#so ill probably just paint it the same color as my walls then do the thunderstorm ceiling thing over my bed

[batslime]

girls rock

[tinfoilmagician]

Arcane brainrot has brought upon headcanons, primarily of the Meljayvik sort because they all deserve to be happy and I do not care what canon says. (Infodump incoming so as not to take up too much space:)

They’re all autistic. Told me themselves.

Jayce is dating Mel and Viktor and Mel and Viktor have a queerplatonic relationship I don’t make the rules.

There are days when Mel can’t force out any words no matter how hard she tries and it scares her. Her words and diplomacy are where she draws her power form and not being able to access that takes it away. Jayce and Viktor take it upon themselves to pamper her and make sure she doesn’t have to go to the council those days, usually resorting to inane lies.

Oh, did I mention Mel’s the only one who can really lie? But they do their best, even if to an outside perspective said lies are implausible unless Heimerdinger vouched for them. (Because very few people at first believe that Jayce “Hextech Golden Boy” Talis got lost in Piltover IKEA and Mel had to look for him no matter how many times that actually happened.)

Other notable lies include “contagious illness” and “the kitchen is on fire” (where Viktor actually set the kitchen on fire because “eh, it was going to happen eventually anyways.”)

Anyways on bad days Jayce and Viktor spoil Mel with bubble baths and calming music to decompress, Jayce gives her the most incredible massages and Viktor braids her hair until the stress melts away.

Mel and Viktor sometimes tell Jayce stories of their childhoods and he just gets so horrified by what they’re convinced is normal and they don’t know whether they should laugh or go to therapy.

Probably both.

Viktor often Does Not Know How To Person. Yes he can do incredible science stuff but he would burn down the apartment if he tried to make hash browns and often forgets to eat and sleep (cause mood.)

Jayce is also like this but in a himbo way rather than a cryptid way. Look at this man and tell me he has never gotten his finger stuck in the Chipotle wall.

Jayce has a shit ton of responsibilities and often makes lists to remember them all… except then he forgets where the lists are.

They all infodump to each other constantly. Viktor and Jayce talk Mel’s ear off about the newest Hextech ideas, and then Mel does the same about her painting. She has on multiple occasions tried to teach them perspective and color theory even though they still draw like children. She finds it adorable.

Mel and Viktor are ABSOLUTE GREMLINS together and blow off steam by playing small tricks on Jayce, and Mel especially loves it because nobody would ever believe it was her.

Occasionally Viktor listens to the same song over and over again for weeks until whatever he was using to listen “mysteriously breaks.”

Anyways I love my himbo, cryptid, and girlboss, they’re absolutely magnificent and the best part of Arcane and I don’t care who I have to kill to give them happiness.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎. | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by @raeganlolz <3

∘ requests: I tried to use as many as I could that made sense! Hope you enjoy!

“the things i’d do to meet edgy karl’s parents.”

“ok but next time you want to write smut for edgy!karl...post pregnancy scare...karl having a fixation on readers tiddies...like the whole time. -🧚🏻‍♀️”

“i stg this is my last thing ill send in today about edgy!karl but karl letting reader dom him completely.-🧚🏻‍♀️”

“CONSIDER edgy!Karl saying ‘that's my girl’”

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader 

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of underaged sex, asphyxiation, domination, this being 4k

∘ word count: ~4000 (im so sorry)

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ disclaimer: I made up all the dynamics and Karl lore. This is also an au and I do what I want so

You rolled your shoulders, twisting your back to alleviate some of the stress in your back as your mind raced at the possible outcomes of spending the weekend at Karl’s parent’s place. He seemed to deal with the situation in his own way, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips as he scrubbed the nail polish from his fingers. You wondered if his parents were sticklers for order, then again, knowing Karl, there was no way they weren’t crazy strict. You thought about your own family and what would happen if Karl were to meet your mother.

Karl seemed almost absent-mindedly going through the motions of visiting them like you had nothing to worry about. There were occasions when he even made it clear that you had your life more intact than he did, so it was doubtful they would hate you.

You peered over at him, taking your eyes off the road momentarily as he paused to blow smoke out of his window. “Why do you have to take it off?” You asked, gesturing to his hands.

He scoffed slightly, sitting up and throwing the dirty cotton ball into the small bag beside him. “My mom hates the dark colors,” he murmured, flicking his cigarette bud outside. He moved a hand to settle over your thigh, wrapping his fingers around the flesh. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint them again when we get back,” he chided. “I know it’s the only reason you keep me around.”

You snorted at this, shaking your head at his joke.

The two of you came to a small stop-over town, swapping seats after filling up the tank at the local gas station. Through the crack in the passenger window, you could hear the cashier greeting Karl as if they were old friends, smacking him on the back and walking him out the door with a smile. As Karl sank into the driver’s seat you furrowed your brows. He looked at you with a shrug. “We vacation around here sometimes,” he brushed off, making your mouth twist in disbelief. He was downplaying the extent of his family’s hold over the town.

As the two of you drove through the main street of the town, your eyes snapped to the various stores with his last name plastered on the signs. You nearly asked him about it, instead opting out as you figured he would give you a half-assed answer and only give you part of the story.

His house had its own street, a long winding road that ended in a looped driveway the size of a suburban cold-de-sac. You willed yourself not to let your mouth gape at the sheer size of the mansion as it stared back at you, blocking the moonlight as Karl opened the passenger door for you to climb out. “Stop treating me like the fucking Queen of England,” you murmured, elbowing him as he pulled on his hoodie, shaking out his hair slightly.

He laughed at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth, and pressing his lips to yours in a nearly heated kiss as if to give you a taste of what he had in store of you. As he broke the embrace, his nose brushed against yours. “I can treat you worse if you want, pet?” He offered, causing you to shove him away from you.

“We are literally in your parents’ driveway. Chill out,” you urged, making him chuckle as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the front door. Your heart hammered in your ears as he pushed open the door. You tugged on his arm. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” You whispered, making him pop his gum and shrug.

As if telling you not to worry, he pulled you the rest of the way in the house, only to be greeted with an old man barely reaching over your height. “Karl! My god, you nearly scared the living daylights outta me!” He hooted, as Karl wrapped his arm around the old man, the two chattering away like the best of friends.

You smiled at the warmth between the two, watching Karl blossom. He moved to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the man. “This is my nanny, Leslie. He wouldn’t leave so I think he just dusts the books in one of the libraries,” Karl joked, making the man swat the air in front of Karl.

You raised your eyebrows. “One of the libraries?” You repeated quietly as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

He smirked at you, disregarding your surprise. “This is my girlfriend,” he introduced, rather proudly as Leslie’s face lit up. He grabbed your hands and rambled on about how he had never thought Karl would introduce a girlfriend to the family.

“I thought I heard Karl’s voice. Did he make it?” A feminine tone rang out into the foyer, capturing Karl’s attention a beat before she had started talking as if he had sensed her. You wanted to smirk at the vision, knowing he did the same when he heard you.

A woman came around the corner of one of the walls, her hair and makeup applied to a professional standard and her clothes were cleanly pressed. She looked as if she had just gotten home from an office job with a corner office. Her intimidating aura vanished along with his as soon as she saw him, scooping him up in her arms as he chuckled slightly. She held him out an arm’s length away, pinching his sides and calling him a beanstalk. Another man a few years older than Leslie entered the room, draped in a flowery apron. He embraced Karl as well, the couple fawning over him like they hadn’t seen him in years.

Karl gestured for you to come closer as he showed you off to the pair, introducing them as his parents. Karl’s mom immediately embraced you, murmuring about how Karl hadn’t brought a girl home in ages let alone a girlfriend and you were quickly being to notice a theme amongst the group.

The house was massive, which you had quickly noticed was even bigger than it looked outside, as Karl’s mother looped her arm around yours, giving you the tour and explaining the extensive history of the Jacobs family and their impact on the house. Leslie and she served as some of the most entertaining tour guides you’d ever experienced as they giggling and joked. Karl walked quietly behind the group of you, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the ceilings and pictures as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times growing up.

You peered over your shoulder, making sure he was still with the rest of you. He set you a wink, lips curling at the sight of you getting along with his family members.

After you were finally beginning to lose track of time Karl broke into the charade, and after vaguely mentioning he was tired, his mother when into a mock cuddling mode, cooing to him sarcastically, yet letting the two of you slink away for the night with the promise of finishing the tour before Karl’s brother showed up in the morning.

Soon it was just you and Karl again, him leading you up a flight of stairs. The hallways were lit with small lanterns that at one time had probably fostered candles but were now replaced with electric ones. You weren’t sure where to look as the walls were crammed with painting and photographs. Half of you wanted to admire the architecture while the rest of you was attempting to identify who the artist was that had done most of the artwork.

Karl sighed tiredly, popping open a door and switching on the lights. You bit back a smile at the view of his room in its pristine condition. The various shades of blues and greys accenting the features of his bed and various pieces of furniture. As you looked around, he threw his wallet and keys onto the dresser beside his bed, shutting the door to drown out the faint music coming from the kitchen. You sat in one of the massive chairs beside the fireplace, your mind running blank with disbelief. A fire was already burning in anticipation of his return.

You ran your finger along the seam in the leather. “When you said your family had money… I didn’t picture all,” you paused gesturing around you, “… this…”

He shrugged with a small smile on his face. “Do you wanna know a little piece of Karl lore?” He asked, smugly.

You perked your eyebrows at his words. “You know I do.”

He gestured with his fingers for you to come towards him as he walked closer to one of the massive windows. He settled his hand in the crook of your neck, turning you to look across the pond at a few of the other massive properties. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pointing at one directly in front of you. “I lost my virginity in that one,” he stated, making you chuckle.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “And to whom?” You queried, as his teeth nipped at your ear.

You could practically hear him smirk. “Her name was Ms. Scarlet back then, but I think she’s been married again,” he answered, making you freeze in his hold. “I think she was between husband two and three.”

“Wait, what?” You turned around to face him.

He brushed his lips against yours. “You jealous?”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling out of his touch. “Were you of age?” You questioned, voice coming out in almost a winded laugh.

He shrugged, plopping down on the bed behind him, leaning his weight back on his hands. “Not the first time.” He smiled up at you. “She’s a friend of mine’s mom. I cut her grass that summer.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Did you hook up again after that?” It was like he had opened Pandora’s box, a mass of questions echoing like bees within your mind.

He looked at the ceiling. “We stopped before my sophomore year of college, I think.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, so almost five years.” Your mouth gapped slightly. “But only when I came back for breaks.”

“You were seventeen?” You stressed. “And when you came back from where?” You sat beside him, attempting to decide if you should be worried or not. Obviously, it wasn’t a fact you could change, but the fact that a woman had him at so young-

He hummed slightly. “Boarding school,” he mumbled, trying not to seem smug. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “I know it sounds bad now, but she wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything,” he assured. “I think you’d like her, honestly.”

“You think I’d like a woman that preys on little boys?” He snorted at your comment and you smacked his chest, making him laugh louder.

He dug his face into your neck. “Age of consent is lower here,” he continued to assure. “Baby, I’m okay.” His teeth nipped at your skin. “Plus, I don’t think I’d know how to make you feel so good without her.” That made you green around the gills. You attempted to put the thought of Karl and an older woman out of your mind. “How did you lose yours?”

You swallowed your questions, deciding to save them for another day. “In a treehouse before I left for college. With my roommate’s twin brother,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “Oh, shit. We’re both bad friends, aren’t we?” He jested.

You shook your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I was dating him, actually. It was really brief.”

“The sex or the relationship?” He asked, making two gesture two fingers into the air. He pulled away from you, sending you a small smile. “And what’s his name? I need to know who you’re comparing me to.”

You scoffed. “Clay,” you answered, the image of the boy flashing into your mind for an instant.

Karl’s demeanor changed. “Clay?” He repeated, sounding like you earlier as you wrapped your brain around the extent of the Jacobs fortune. “What does that seem so familiar…” he trailed off in thought. You perked your eyebrow at him, knowing full-well the two could have unintentionally crossed paths on campus.

The next morning, you could have sworn you were on the set of a period piece if it weren’t for Karl’s father’s golfing attire and his mother’s tight black dress as they welcomed various family members into the house. You had finally met Karl’s older brother, an accomplished man with a good job and an even more impressive education, yet each time he attempted to boast about his earnings or the progress he was bringing to the family business, he was swatted off only for his parents to gloat about Karl’s fraternity connections and grades.

You peered over Karl’s shoulder as he showed you Todd’s Instagram post, the two of you scoffing before you liked his picture from your account, making Karl roll his eyes as you snickered.

“… And that being said, renting cars is no longer a strenuous task,” Karl’s brother finished.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head slightly. Karl had mentioned the family joke of disregarding what his brother said, even if it was impressive or you were interested. It had been a running gag since Karl was in high school and they weren’t planning on letting up anytime soon. “Yeah, that’s neat. Did you hear Karl learned how to do his own laundry?” His mom boasted with a small chirp to her voice as if Karl were the best thing on the planet.

You bit back a laugh as his brother grumbled to himself, his wife patting his arm reassuringly. “He was also one of the most expensive at KA. Very impressive son!” His dad added, sending him a thumbs up.

You stood with Karl in the living room; his arm draped around the top of a bookshelf you were leaning against as you both listened to one of his cousins talk about a new boat they had just paid off.

Your heels felt tight on your feet as you switched the weight from one ankle to the other, leaning closer to Karl. He moved so his lips were near your ear. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s a hollowed-out log with a rudder,” he chided, making the corner of your mouth twist up.

“It’s not much, but it’s honest,” you mockingly defended. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Inexplicably,” he murmured back, making you laugh quietly. He let a beat of silence pass between the two of you before wetting his lips. “Say the word and we’ll find a random room and I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered.

You scoffed, inching closer to him while your eyes remained on the center of the room where everyone was talking. “How can you be horny around your family?”

You could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Because I’m more focused on you in that tight little dress than Kevin’s boat.”

You took a sip from your cup. “Dirty boy,” you joshed quietly.

Karl smirked at you before his eyes drifted to the front door, a new flow of people filing into the house. You noticed him grow quiet, following his gaze to a woman and a boy around your age. They greeted Karl’s parents happily before integrating into the living room with the rest of you. You could tell by the way his face twisted smugly that the woman was Ms. Scarlet. You drew in a breath as she neared the two of you.

Karl stood up a bit straighter and you bit back a laugh, making a mental note on having to tease him about his MILF. The woman smiled brightly at Karl, pinching his cheek. You attempted to piece together who the boy was and if Karl had mentioned him before.

Karl cleared his throat after they shared their pleasantries. “Uh, this is Nick, but everyone calls him Sapnap, and this is his mom… Ms. Scarlet?” He questioned the last part as she charmingly laughed.

“Oh, no darling. I’m Mrs. Donahue now.” Sapnap rolled his eyes slightly at her words, taking a sip of his drink as she winked at him.

Karl smirked. “Right, congratulations. Anyway, they’ve been our neighbors for years-”

She cut him off, squeezing his arm. “Oh, come on! We were trying to marry Karl off to one of Nick’s cousins and finally join the families, but it’s just funny how things work out,” she stated. You wracked your brain, attempting to figure out if it was a dig at you or Karl. The two of them went off on a tangent about the array of Sapnap’s cousins that Karl had had to take on dates and whatnot.

“So, you’re dating Karl then?” Sapnap asked you, more of an aside as they had seemed to forget about you.

You nodded; the fact still rather foreign to you when given the chance to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll claim him,” you joked. “Did you guys go to the same high school?” You asked, attempting conversation.

He looked at you tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been classmates since we were little.” You hummed in interest. “I mean, since he fucked my mom we haven’t been hanging out or anything,” he added as if you had been itching to ask.

You had been.

You snorted at his words as he smiled slightly. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” you apologized, covering your mouth.

He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, it definitely is, don’t worry.”

“How did, uh… that affect you guys?” You asked, biting back your humorous response.

He seemed to relax from his stiffened introduction a few minutes prior. He wet his lips. “Honestly, there’s no going back from that, you know?”

You giggled. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed at your answer, covering it with a cough as Karl seemed to remember you were standing beside him. Sapnap’s mom suddenly spotted an old friend of hers, the two parting from your life almost as quickly as they had entered. You leaned against Karl’s arm.

“I like Sapnap,” you hummed, watching the two leave. “He seems quiet.” Karl shrugged beside you. Your mind wandered to whether Sapnap knew Todd. Part of you wished you had asked him, but you were struggling to remember Todd’s real name anyway. “Did you have fun with your lady friend?” You mocked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, biting back a smirk. “You’re my lady friend.”

You chuckled. “Oh? I thought you’d forgotten.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against Karl in a coat closet in a remote part of the house, unable to make it to his room before his hands were up your skirt and his lips were attacking your skin. He pinned you against the door as if he were worried you would slip out of his grasp as he ground his hips against yours. His teeth grazed against your neck in a mess of hands and hair.

You pushed him further into the closet before he plopped down in a chair towards the back. The both of you shared a look of confusion as to why it was there yet shrugged and went back to carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at his lips with your own. He moaned into your mouth as you climbed into his lap, his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs before snaking up to slip into the top of your dress and take your breast into one of his large hands.

Kissing him felt strange without his tongue ring; if you weren’t so desperate to get yourself off, you would have complained about missing it.

You ground yourself on his lap, groaning at your newfound friction as he spread his legs further for you, his free hand dragging you against his crotch. You pressed your lips against his neck, biting at the skin, determined to mark him as yours. You weren’t doing it to ward off Ms. Scarlet, no. This was for you, knowing full well that Karl always wore your hickeys with pride.

Your hands went to his belt buckle, impatience taking over as you nipped at his skin, earning moans of pleasure as he let you have your way with him. He pressed his lips to your chest as you freed his cock from its cloth entrapment, stroking him with your hand. “Give me your panties,” he whispered, breathlessly as he hooked his fingers around your waistband. You obliged before angling him at your entrance and sinking down onto him. The two of you let out moans of pleasure, swallowing each other’s appraisal.

The air grew warm around the two of you as you began to roll your hips against him. Your head tilting back as you tried to quiet yourself down, knowing the last thing you wanted was for someone to walk in… again.

Karl’s fingers moved to unzip your dress, exposing your chest to his mouth as your fingers moved to tug at his dark locks. He ground his hips up into yours, a thankful moan slipping past your lips as his tongue pressed against the valley between your breasts.

You pushed him against the back of the chair, capturing his lips against your and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He completely submitted to your actions, wanting nothing more than to taste you as you began to ride him harder. Your nails dug into the back of the chair, your other hand moving to unbutton the top of his shirt and wrap around his neck. “Is she better than me?” You asked; your breath husky and demanding as his teeth flashed back at you, his leering smirk mixing with his blissed-out expression as he tried not to roll his eyes at how good he felt with you taking all of him.

“N-no. Of course not,” he groaned. His lips were pink from your teeth, cheeks flushed with lust and adrenaline as his blunt nails raked up your body to claw at your back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, voice almost a whimper.

You moved your hand to press your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, loving the pleasured expression on his face as he looked at you like you owned him. “Good,” you answered plainly, swirling your hips and tightening your grip on his neck before you could feel your impending orgasm nearly within reach. He almost smiled up at you. What a little freak.

You moved your hand to fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him up to press your lips against his as you bounced on top of him. He let out a deep moan before you felt him release, making you scoff sardonically. His fingers moved to grip your hips, thrusting against you harder, determined to get you to follow him. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, his teeth digging into your skin.

Shamelessly, you let him drag you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with a flash of heat and relief. Karl kissed you roughly, desperate to taste your moans as if looking for your approval. "That's my girl," he moaned, smiling against your lips.

As the two of you straightened your clothing and cleaned up your appearances, you went for your underpants in Karl’s pocket, but he grabbed your wrist, drawing you to his chest. “You got to be on top, that means I’m in charge of foreplay for the rest of the night,” he answered, pressing a brief and sultry kiss against your lips to wipe away your shocked expression.

“Fine, then I’m in charge when we get back and I’ll send lewds to Todd,” you threatened with an empty conscious on the matter. “Just to make it spicy. Stir it up a bit,” you joshed.

He groaned, making you smirk. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

[le4ftea]

Don't look! Pt.2 IzukuxMale!ReaderxKatsuki

Smut, bakudeku(cuz why not.), blow job, tears,creampie.

This is part two of "Don't look!" This is for a male reader. It has highschool Bakugou and Izuku, and middle school Bakugou and Izuku. Hope its good. PS: when it says there last name, it means younger bakugou and Midoriya. Also ill just call the older ones by their first name.

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"Oooh Fuck! I'm-I'm CUMMINGS! God cuMMing~!" The green haired boy screamed out in pleasure, his head thrown back as his hips stayed balls deep into your soft insides. His body trembled as his intense orgasm made his vision white.

You had let go of the bed sheets, your upper body laying on the bed as your ass was up and spilling Baby Dekus seed. The boy had pulled out yet his dick as still spilling white liquid from his swollen slit.

Still moaning. His childhood friend was staring at him with a burning intensity.

Baby Bakugou was confused to why watching Deku spill cum from his dick, turned him on the same as you begging to be fucked did.

You slowly sat up, whining at the emptiness you felt.

"Now its my turn to show you a good time." Kastuki smirked down at your quivering state. Your eyes looking up at him like you were a puppy begging for food.

He unbucked his green pants and pulled his underwear down, his dick stood infront of you. His tip red and precum beaded at the slit.

You wanted to taste it. Saveur the flavor and drink his warm cum, feeling your stomach warm up. You grabbed it and took it all in your mouth till it was deep in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head as a long moan rumbled around his cock.

He groaned letting a shaky curse escape his lips.

Izuku covered his mouth at the sight of you sucking his friend with pure delight. His dick getting hard once more, he bit his lip to keep a moan from being heard.

While the two older boys fonded over you, the two younger ones had plans of their own.

Baby Deku was still panting, a dark blush covering his freckles cheeks as the adorable tears pricked in his eyes.

Baby Bakugou had moved in front of Deku and slowly leaned into his gasping lips, placing a passionate kiss onto them. Causing Deku to come down from his high. Slowly melting into his touch.

Bakugou started to gently stroke Dekus dick, drawing muffled moans to be heard. Deku weakly tried to push is arm away from his sensitive cock, yet had no energy to put more effort.

You had been sucking harder and harder on Katsuki cock, yet you wanted more. You need more.

Releasing his cock with a wet pop and string of saliva, twitching with want. He looked down at you annoyed yet caring, since he did love you for years on end and dreamed of this day to come.

You looked at Izuku, wiggling your ass to his direction. Eyes pooled with lust and body shivering with excitement, you started to beg.

"Izu-kun. P-Please nha.. fuck me.." your voice was a rough yet a silky song to his blessed ears, his size leveled up at the simple demand.

Swallowing his spit, he nodded in a shy manner. Slowly placing himself behind you and digging in his pants to pull himself out. Until he felt a rise of jealousy as he saw how lovely Katsuki felt as you devoured his throbbing cock.

He glanced up at him, signaling his classmate that he would like to switch spots.

Chuckling while shaking his head, completely confused to why he would want your mouth( not saying you don't give good head.) Instead of your preciously silk tight walls that would suck you back in for more.

Not complaining you watched them change spots, either way you would be sucking someone off and being filled with a nice firm dick. When the two placed themselves at your wholes.

Eyes half closed and tongue hanging out to let room for Izuku, you could sense his desire just based of his heavy breathing. His face already dripping with sweat and a heated blush coloring his soft cheeks.

He gently placed the tip on your tongue, shivering at the sudden wetness and hot air coming from your soft puffy lips.

Katsuki stroked his wet cock a couple of times as he glared at the whole that was clenching itself every once in awhile. Clicking his tongue at the roof of his mouth he bubbled with glee. His vision already getting hazy as he only put the tip into your whole.

In one full move, Katsuki had shoved his cock into you, the sudden movement had forced the timid green hair male to have his cock inhaled in a matter of seconds. He squaled at the dripping hot cave that had a lovely muscle already swirling to taste him. Izuku unconsciously bucking into your mouth as his nerves sang in joy, his eyes dilated as he could only watch the roof. Bones heating up, and shock waves running through is brain in a fantastic way.

Katsuki moving in a mix of slow and faster pace to edge himself at every moment he could. Gripping your hips in place. He saw how your thighs shook with each thrust, cute moans that sent vibration to Izukus slimy dick.

Senses crying out, your mind was pulsing with bliss with every thrust and moan leaving the older boys mouths, sweet pain feeling like a message by the Gods in every quivering inch of your body. A cute virgin, now a hungry monster.

"Wait K-Kacchan! You can't just-!"

"Why not.. fuck you are just turning me on more you damn nerd! Just let me..." Bakugou and Midoriya had been busy as well, slowly finding out that they were also attracted to one another.

Bakugou had prepared Midoriya for his whining cock, that was begging to messy up his childhood friends insides. His face was turned to a lovingly kind yet toughness painting. He slowly pushed himself inside the green hairs boy.

Both moaning at the sudden feeling.

"F-fuck! Kacchan!" Midoriya cried out, blood running cold and hot at the stimulating shock.

The clenching and sucking of Midoriya's inside drove Bakugou wild. He found it werid how he wanted to also pretend he was inside of you but you and Midoriya found you both every attractive all of a sudden.

The two young boys stared into eachothers eyes with a spark they never saw before.

"Damn Deku... why do you look so hot.." Bakugou leaded into his friends soft lips, digging himself deeper into Midoriya.

A muffled moan is eating as Bakugou refused to pull back, roughly yet slowly thrusting in and out of his friend.

Moving to the three of you, Katsuki and Izuku seemed to sparkle with a change of heart. Izuku stared at Katsuki who pounded into your ass with no mercy. You legs twitching with each thrust and mind fuzzy with the taste of Izuku.

The two older males leaded in for eachothers Lips and kissed of the first time. Heat rising around them they sucked on eachothers tongues, their saliva dripping into your back.

Flinching and quivering you loved the sounds and smells, the feelings and the taste.

You were losing it. That fantastic bomb about to blow as is seemed everyone was getting louder and louder.

The two males shoving you with their dicks pulled away and told you they were about to cum.

"Oh! God I'm gonna cum in your MoUth! Oh God oh GOD!"

"Yea! Take my cum! Oh yea yea YEA NhA!"

You gripped izukus hips and pulled him deeper into your throat. While your legs wrapped around Katsuki and pulled him in deeper.

Screams and moans filled the room as it seemed that everyone came at the same time. A hot liquid filled your mouth and scarred hands gripped your hair as his hips weakly thrusted the rest in.

Katsuki and gripped your hips hard, you swore you were bruised as his dick throbbed and splashed his seed in you.

Little explosion are heard as a couple of groans fall from the two younger boys. Bakugou had lost control of his quirk but thank God he was gripping Dekus cloths.

Your vision was spotting with black as you had no feeling in your body.

Fainting in Izukus lap you were left with a lovely warm feeling. Darkness consuming you.

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"Hey (L/N)-kun!" Midoriya ran up to you as you walked side by side with Bakugou.

He blushed at the up coming male. His heart skipping a beat yet he did not know why.

You smile tiredly as you let out a yawn.

Only to whine in pain.

"Are you okay (L/N)-kun?" Midoriya asked worried.

Bakugou sighed in annoyances as he looked at Midoriya.

"His throat hurts. He doesn't know why but he is probably sick or something." He mumbled with he walked slightly ahead to hide his blush from the sight of both you and Midoriya.

You nod and whine when you swallow your spit.

Midoriya chated with you for a bit till he ran up to Bakugou asking him God knows what.

The two males in front did not know or remember the heated time they all shared.

But you for sure, remember every minute.

[butteraway]

when time runs out | iv

⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none

authors note: I wanna say im so sorry for lying to yall about that extra chapter KJDFFF😭😭 ALSO @chibiiichann I APOLOGIZE FOR SPAMMING YOU WHENEVER I REPLIED TO YOU💀 A DIFFERENT ACC WOULD POP UP BUT THE FIRST CHAPTER WAS AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER EXPLAINING THE OC'S CONDITION JFJDJD

"HAHA! I GOTCHU NOW LOSER!" Y/N smashed the buttons on her controller, basically on the edge of her bed. A grunt was heard through her headphones, then a loud bang with laughing in the background. Y/N felt her stomach turn at the sound of this, feeling a little left out, but smiled nonetheless.

"HOW'D YOU EVEN DO THAT?!! YOU’RE DOING SOME HACKING MY GUY!" Denki yelled through the laughing in the background, hands pulling at his hair. He seriously couldn't believe it!

"I'm not! I just wanted to show Sero I'm way better at this game than you are. And turns out I am!" Y/N let out a loud laugh, falling backwards onto her pillow. After finding out that 'Tape Dispenser' went to her cousin’s school by hearing his voice in the back of Denki's room, she got to learn more about this Sero dude. She already knew this after their last game a few nights ago, but he was so chill. It was still insane for her to find out that her cousin and online friend went to the same hero school. The coincidences in this world. Y/N thought as she grinned.

"It's okay Kaminari, you still lasted a long time! But you did get brutally beat by Y/N at the end though..." Sero said, trying to raise Denki's low spirits, but only succeeded in making him more miserable. Rustling was heard through Y/N's headphones, making it obvious that there was movement happening.

"You don't understand Sero! THIS IS THE ONLY GAME I COULD FULLY BEAT THIS GIRL IN!" Denki shook Sero by the shoulders, quickly doing the action. Cackling was heard through the speakers while the girl wiped a tear from her eye. Sero laughed along, as he was pushed to the ground by Denki. His arms were crossed as he looked away, upset that Y/N managed to finally beat him in every game they played.

"It's okay Denki, not everyone can be as good as me!" Y/N exclaimed, getting up from her bed to start taping specific parts of her room. Kaminari continued to complain about his defeat to Sero, who only chuckled in response. As she finished taping the bottom of the walls, Y/N sat back on her bed, sighing in content.

"So, how are you? I'm doing terribly after being utterly destroyed by you, by the way." Said Kaminari, opening his water bottle and taking large gulps from it. Y/N felt her face light up as she remembered to tell Kaminari of her future activity.

"Bro, you won't believe this! So, basically, they're actually letting me paint my room! All by myself! How fricking cool is that?!" The girl laughed out loud, jumping on her bed in excitement. Kaminari's eyes widen, in surprise and slight fear, sitting up and taking in the new information.

"Wait, really? But isn't that like extremely dangerous? Cuz of the chemicals and what not??" He tried his best to keep his voice leveled, not noticing Sero look at him weirdly. That guy had no idea what was happening.

"Well, they said that they were gonna do something to the paint so it won't hurt me or anything, I don't know what, but-" Y/N was cut off by an extremely confused Sero. "Wait wait wait, hold on. I don't understand what's happening. How can paint harm you? Besides like...eating it. And what do you mean by 'finally getting to paint your room?’ Silence was the only answer he got. Sero gulped in embarrassment, thinking he asked a really personal question.

"Um, it's nothing du-" A loud 'shhhhhhh' was heard from Y/N, who let out a shaky breath. She never really told anyone, it's not like she could either way, being confined in the hospital room for a long time. She pushed a loose strand of her away from her face, preparing herself to tell Sero.

"Well, the reason is because I basically live in a hospital. I can't go outside, or have 'unpurified' air, as the doctors like to say, meaning my interactions with people and the outside world are extremely limited. That means anything that's not cleared of dust and germs, I guess, can be extremely harmful for me? As pathetic as it sounds, it could actually kill me, haha." It was quiet as Sero took in the information, a large wave of emotions crashing on him. A person shouldn't have to be locked in a room for the rest of their life. Especially someone who is such a sweet person like Y/N.

"I-I'm so sorry to hear that Y/N. If you don't mind me asking, how...how long have you been in the hospital?" The young girl answered with a quick 'Two years', and that's when Sero felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Kaminari abruptly got up and headed towards his door.

"I'm gonna get something to eat, you want something dude?" Kaminari's voice was low and trembling. It didn't take a genius to see that the blonde haired boy needed some time alone. "No thanks." Kaminari let out a hum, quickly exiting his room and closing the door shut. Sero heard the loud sniffs that slowly faded away, as he hung his head down.

"Hey, you good Sero? That was probably a lot to take in, sorry." Sero shook his head, letting a sad smile adorn his face. "It's fine, really. I actually feel honored that you're comfortable telling me. Feels like we're getting closer, to be honest." He smiled happily, meaning every word he said. And Y/N knew that. "Ha, we are though!" The air was tense, despite the two teenagers being in different rooms.

Y/N went to clear her throat, but was interrupted when a light knock echoed throughout her room. "Someone there?" Sero asked, noticing her silence and hearing the very faint knocking.

"Yeah, um Sero, I'll call you guys later, my doctor wants to talk." Y/N quickly replied, seeing Receen open the door and walk in with his thin suit on. Sero let out an ok and they hang up. Y/N finally took in how the doctor looked, noticeable eye bags under his blue-grey eyes, from lack of sleep. His dark hair slightly tousled, probably from putting on the protective helmet that came with the suit, and a small smile on his welcoming face. And a large container of paint in his left hand. Her eyes immediately lit up.

"What’s up doc? I see you have something in your hand, can I see it closer?" The small girl asked, getting up and making a grabbing motion with her hands. Receen chuckled, lifting up the paint for Y/N to see. Even if he were to hand her the container, she wouldn't be able to hold. She was just too weak. Said girl let out a high pitch 'OOOO ' in excitement.

"I'm not sure if you wanted more, but we managed to get you your favorite color! This should be enough to paint the room, you can even put a second layer if you want." Receen walked over to where Y/N put all the equipment, opening the container of paint. And with a low grunt from him, the lid was opened. Y/N watched with amazement as the doctor poured the soft looking paint into a tray. She picked up a roller near her, and drowned the roller in paint, the white fluff getting covered in color.

The two began painting, Y/N's hand shaking every now and then. After painting half the room, they sat in silence, resting for a while. Receen seemed to be tense, though Y/N didn't seem to notice since she was too happy to speak. Receen let out a breath, breaking the silence, causing Y/N to look towards him.

"I didn't get to ask you how you were, did I Y/N? How are you?" Said girl let a beaming smile spread on her face, causing Receen to slightly squint his eyes from the intensity of her smile. "Honestly, I haven't felt this happy in a very long time! I actually still can't believe you guys really let me do this! Thank you so much!"

Receen gave her a small smile while rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not a problem, you could’ve asked sooner and gotten this done a long time ago. You've been here for two years, so please don't be afraid of asking for things!" At the mention of her time spent in the hospital, Y/N lowered her head, causing Receen to wince. Well, might as well tell her. The doctor cleared his throat and began to talk.

"Y/N, as you are aware, I, along with many other doctors and scientists, have been working hard for you to be able to go outside again. To see your family, hug them, be a normal kid again." There was a pause and that alone caught Y/N's attention. She looked up at him. "There is a way for you to finally do that, Y/N."

Shock evident on the girl's face, she abruptly stood up and faced the doctor. There was absolutely no way anyone could have found a cure for someone like her. Someone who had an incurable sickness. Someone who was too sick, to even have medicine. He's lying. Y/N narrowed her eyes at the grown man sitting in front of her.

"With all due respect Doctor, I highly doubt that ​​that's possible. Cuz, y'know? I basically have an incurable disease? I mean, like, even if you did manage to find a way for me to leave this place, how do you even know it's gonna work? I don't think you've tried this medicine since no one in recorded hospital documents in the past have had people like that checked in before-"

"How do you even know that?"

"-so how do you truly know it'll work?" Y/N quickly finished, completely ignoring his statement. Receen sighed, scratching his head. "We live in a world where quirks exist. Would you believe me if I told you centuries ago that the human race would evolve to have super powers? It's kind of like that, but not really." Y/N eyed him suspiciously. He's avoiding the question.

Receen looked straight at the girl standing in front of him. He felt slightly intimidated by her piercing gaze. He quickly looked away and got up, towering over Y/N's small frame. Then he smiled. "Y/N, you are a very sweet girl, no doubt about it. I know how much you want to get out of here, and I want to help you. My team has created this almost perfect pill, especially suited for your sickness. I know you're very cautious, just like your mother, but I can only reassure you, that these are your ticket out of here." He pulled out the bottle from his protective suit, shaking it in front of [Y/N].

Her eyes widened as she restrained herself from reaching out and snatching the bottle. Her eyes slightly narrowed as she pulled herself together. Crossing her arms and slightly tilting her upwards, she looked into the doctor's bright eyes. "There's always a catch when it comes to these kinds of things. What's the price if I take these? My lifespan shortens, I only have five hours to go outside, it drugs me or something?"

"I'm hurt you think I would just give you these without setting out the consequences." There was a slight glint in his eyes before it quickly disappeared. Y/N hummed, urging the doctor to continue.

"There are exactly 15 pills in here. And consuming just one of these bad boys right here, would allow you to go outside! Though, time is very important when taking these. You'd have 10 hours before the pills effects wear off. These would dull your hypersensitive senses, but not to a point where you can't feel, smell or do anything. No no, it'd just be like how you were before. You'd feel slightly dizzy and be a little itchy, but besides that, nothing too extreme. It just dulls all your body senses down." Receen gave Y/N a small smile. She looked a little weary, unsure if what he said was true. She looked at the bottle then back to Doctor Receen, fingers twitching every now and then. Breathing in and letting it out slowly, Y/N stared straight into the doctor's eyes.

If I take these, I can finally go out. I can hug mom and dad, I can be around Denki again. I can meet Sero face to face and feel the grass again! I can be... happy again. But if these don't actually work, I'd immediately die on the spot. I'd be able to go outside though. Aah, so much going outside, I can meet new people! I don't wanna spend the rest of my days slowly rotting away in here anyway.

"So Y/N, are you going to take them or let all our time go to waste?"

Sero looked at his hands solemnly, thinking about what Y/N had told him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, then lightly slapped his cheeks to stop the wave of emotions from spilling out.

"Yo, you good dude? It's not everyday I see someone willingly slapping themselves." Kaminari chuckled, walking in and closing the door with his foot as he carried a soda bottle and a bag of chips towards the boy sitting on his bed. Sero grinned, feeling the sadness of everything wash away.

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. But what about you though? After we had that conversation, you were, well, umm... kind of out of it." Kaminari froze, letting a dejected smile appear on his face. Dragging a hand down his face, he let out a sorrowful laugh.

"She's my best friend. My first real, true friend. She's basically my sister at this point. So when she collapsed that day, I felt my whole world crashing down. She is the sweetest, the most kindest, person I have ever met. She never let me degrade myself, alway cheered me up when people called me stupid." Kaminari rubbed his eyes, opening the bag of chips and plopping one of them into his mouth.

"It hasn't been the same ever since she left, her parents barely come over anymore, and they're always so sad whenever I see them. My own parents aren't the same either, they treated her like their own daughter. I can't even begin to imagine how Y/N feels about this all. She was the top in our grade, highest scores in our test. No one could compare to her. M-my heart breaks for her. She lost everything." Sero let that information sink in, thinking about how she was before. He smiled as he saw Kaminari's shoulders begin to shake. He cares so much for her.

He put his hand on his shoulder, watching Kaminari slowly lift his face towards him. "Come here you emotional ball of feelings." Being the friendly guy he is, Sero gave the sobbing boy a hug, cuz hugs fix everything.

"No homo though bro." And with that, they both laughed out loud, continuing their bro day.

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Booklet 1

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Index || Next →

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case.

   Ann Magnolia and Her Nineteenth Birthday

   There was a number of things I had to do on the special day called today.

I would wake up in the morning and check the weather. As if a tale were beginning, I would turn the curtains over and look outside the window.

The radiant daylight shone on my eyes. Today was sunny. Knowing that made me happy. That I had woken up enveloped in sunshine. That I didn’t have to worry about my letter getting drenched in rain. It was almost as if the truth of these facts was blessing the day.

——I’m happy.

Very happy.

I didn’t usually say this, but I felt like saying it today, so I whispered as I laid back down, “Good morning.”

Husky with wake, my voice echoed through the quiet bedroom. I wandered around in search for someone to have a conversation with from the words “good morning”. However, I couldn’t find anyone to hear them, so they pointlessly vanished somewhere.

If you were just by yourself, words would die as soon as they were born. I knew that as the truth of this world. Like flowers that withered without changing colors, like small birds that couldn’t endure the coldness of midwinter, my words would promptly die. After all, words were tools for people to communicate their intentions. So if there was no other party, they would all but die. That was evident.

There was no one who would reply to me with a “good morning”. There was no one in this house that would do a morning greeting, so if anyone were to say that this much was obvious, it sure was. But in my memories, someone whose voice I had already forgotten would return my words. In a warm and soft voice that was probably how my mother sounded, they would be returned to me.

“Good morning, Ann.”

——Good morning.

“Today is a special day, huh.”

——I know; I’d been counting them with my fingers.

“Your long-awaited birthday.”

With a nod, I stood up.

Today, I was turning nineteen. Twelve years had passed since I had been left all by myself when I was seven years old. I reflected thoroughly upon that reality alone and proudly.

I left my bedroom still wearing a negligee, heading to the spiral staircase. There were portraits hanging in rows from the staircase’s wall.

“My, you’re going outside dressed like this just because you’re at home?”

Decorated with pictures of family members, the wall used to be terrifying for me when I was a child, but it became less so after my mother was added to them. I would go up and down those stairs countless times every day, but the only spot that I would end up directing my gaze to for a few seconds was the portrait of my mother and my childhood self.

If, by any chance, there was strength to the thing called “love”, I thought, if there was a force residing within love, wouldn’t this image start moving one day, since it was the only one I looked at as if I were yearning for something?

I would end up embracing such fantasies.

“I won’t change, no matter how much you stare at me. By the way, doesn’t my complexion look a little bad in this portrait? I should have had more paint put over it.”

Of course, it was just a fabrication.

Having come down the stairs, I went to the front entrance, its door a little worn-out. I should call a repairer. The house was a living being just like me, and since it was already quite old, it was always broken somewhere.

“I also want you to tend to the garden. When was the last time you held a broom?”

As I came outside, I could see this place’s whole scenery. There was nothing but lush grassland and tree-lined roads. The idyllic sight was awfully boring, but above that, it was beautiful, so if you made a frame with your fingers, you would immediately have a scenic picture. In this entire area, there were no other houses in sight. Of course. This territory was under the control of the Magnolias, hence this view belonged to me, the family head.

As long as I didn’t sell or give it away, this landscape would never change. And, same as the previous family heads, I didn’t wish for it to change. Neither did I wish to leave this place. Even if I was all by myself.

“Ann, let’s take a look inside the mailbox.”

I took a look inside the mailbox. Perhaps because it was still early in the morning, there was nothing in it yet.

“It’ll surely be coming soon.”

Today was the day when I, Ann Magnolia, was born. Every year on my birthday, I would get letters from my late mother. Letters from my mother, who by now had become a portrait, would be delivered to me.

“There is no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

To be precise, letters with my mother’s feelings blown into them and ghostwritten by an Auto-Memories Doll would be delivered to me. It was a strange story, but a true one.

“Auto-Memories Doll”. Long had passed ever since this name caused a stir.

The creator was an authority in the field of mechanical dolls, Professor Orlando. His wife, Molly, was a novelist, and all had begun with the posterior loss of her eyesight. He then invented a machine to perform ghostwriting for his beloved wife and named it Auto-Memories Doll. Nowadays, people who worked as ghostwriters were also called Auto-Memories Dolls.

When I was seven, my mother, who was plagued with a serious illness, summoned a beautiful blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll to our manor. She made her write several letters and hired a postal company to deliver them to me even after her death. She had been secretly planning out a few decades worth of birthday messages for her beloved daughter.

The person who had made this request was an oddball, but the ones who had accepted the job were quite odd themselves. Had they not imagined that someone would abandon it at some point? Had they sealed the contract for such a heavy, troublesome work without any refusal because they were horribly bad at their business, or was it because they were too nice? Having grown into a creditable lady and come to understand the world to a certain extent, I would ponder about such things. Surely, it was because they were nice. Thanks to them, even though I didn’t have a single relative now, at least on my birthday I could recall what being loved by someone felt like.

Just like that, I stood fidgety in front of the mailbox. Closing my eyes, I cleared off the dust on the box of my memories.

——I remember. That she had come around. That she would be over there, quietly writing letters. I remember the figure of that person and of my smiling mother. Surely, until I died...

That few-days’ time had been seared into my mind. Back then, my... Back then, Ann Magnolia’s frizzy hair was still short, and she was selfish and pretended to be taller. She was a helpless child. A very young one. How old she was? Seven years old. An age where one would still long for their mother. Her mother was the center of the world. If her mother died, she wouldn’t even be able to breathe. She was that kind of child. She was aware that her emotions were unstable and that she tended to act a little rashly.

Most people would treat someone like me nicely, and that was it. People who had their eyes on my fortune attempted to get close to me, but once they noticed that I had no intention to let them do so, they never showed their faces to me again.

That person—that person... Violet Evergarden. That Auto-Memories Doll was a bit different from other people, I thought...

Whenever I wondered what was so different about her, I would find myself thinking.

Back then, Ann Magnolia had fallen in love with a mysterious girl who had come around all of a sudden. It was a little girl’s romantic love out of adoration. She both hated and liked the Auto-Memories Doll who had come around out of the blue and stolen her time with her mother.

——What was it that I liked about her?

She was a taciturn and unsociable. A silent porcelain doll. She seemed extremely adult-like. But looking back, she often reacted like a child who knew nothing. Even when I gave her dolls, she didn’t know how to play. Neither did she have any knowledge of how to solve riddles. Even when I made her touch bugs, she never ran away like my mother or our maid. Whenever I invited her to join hands and spin around, we would do it to no end.

“Fufu...”

She was a weird person. Yes, a weird one.

Children would look at adults and measure them by whether they were scary or foolish, would be their allies or enemies, would give them candy or not, and other such things. They would stare very, very fixatedly and judge the grown-ups.

She... that beautiful Auto-Memories Doll... Violet Evergarden was not an adult.

——Yes, she was... how should I put it? She was Violet Evergarden.

Which was why I had snuggled up to her, the same type of person as myself, just like two cats nestling close to each other, I thought.

She was a beautiful child. A beautiful beast. I found her eccentric self to be cool, so I liked her.

Where was she now and what was she doing, I wondered.

I was turning nineteen, but back in the day, she must have been younger than I am now. For her to have prosthetic arms, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened to her at the time, when the war had just ended. But surely, there was no doubt that her life had been full of many more ups and downs than the story I had in mind.

Did she not express her emotions enough because she was carrying some sort of wound in her heart? She was such a beautiful person, so she must have won over the heart of some wonderful person by now...

I shook my head left and right. I mustn’t have unjust suspicions of her. I shouldn’t prod into how I was back then – into the Ann Magnolia of back then – and taint it. Even if it was just me with myself, I mustn’t do that. Because all of the joys and sorrows from that time belonged to the old me, who had endured those days. Having become an adult, I shouldn’t have any say over the mental landscape of my old self, as a third party.

Having grown up, I observed my own land, which spread out endlessly. The scent of gently swaying grass and flowers, the chattering of birds, the clouds that moved slowly in the blue sky. It felt like they would be here just like that for a hundred more years.

“It’s not coming, huh. Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Since the postman wasn’t showing up, I had no choice but go back into the manor.

I had been working at home lately. I used to go outside and enjoy the world when I was a student, but I realized that, in the end, I liked being in my house. Maybe this was a Magnolia bloodline thing.

As for my from-home job, I worked with legal counseling. When I was little, I had experienced disputes amongst my own relatives over me and my assets. That was the reason why, if I had to give any.

My mother had left me with a talented legal advisor. A person of outstanding character, who still concerned himself with me even now. As a young child, I excelled at catching insects that I had never seen before, but I didn’t have the means to oppose to the people who wanted to steal this land from me one way or another.

I had started off working at the city’s legal information center, introduced to me by the legal advisor, who had taken me in, and only recently had I become independent. Living in the city had made me realize many things. That there were many people in this world who weren’t protected like me. And that this wasn’t something those people themselves wanted, but things had turned out in such a way due to the environment they were in.

The ascension of the ghostwriting business had a similar background. Children would be made to work like adults, unable to go to school, so when they grew up and had to sign any documents, they couldn’t even write their own names.

People like that, who had been raised in environments where no one helped them, weren’t a rarity. I had heard that the literacy rate was currently rising, but it would still take a long time for this to become something unusual.

Just like with ghostwriting, one could become somebody’s ally through the law. It was especially necessary for children who had been thrown out like me and younglings who were about to enter the world of adults, I believed. Because they could earn completely different futures as a result if they acquired knowledge.

“The law is a weapon,” my legal advisor would say. I agreed with that. My property had been protected by this weapon many times. Some people would say that education was the weapon, but the situations for putting it to use were too limited. Weapons exerted their true value exactly when you had to protect yourself from falling victim to unjust acts or insults.

If possible, I wanted to be someone who could protect others. I wanted to tell people who didn’t know what to do and had become incapable of even walking on their own, “It’s all right; I’ll be your ally”. Because I wanted someone to do that for me back when I was alone.

My reason for choosing law was rooted in this kind of self-righteous way of thinking.

Since I worked from home, I didn’t earn much. To be honest, people would think that being a professional was a pastime for a landowning wealthy lady. I was fine with that.

The people who came to visit me in this remote place were generally in critical situations and had nothing. Those who had something would go to the city. They would go to the city, bow their heads to some famous person, be served a fine brand of tea... and have a graceful conversation while drinking it.

If I could, I wanted to get close to people, just like her. Just like the Auto-Memories Doll who had told me on that day that it was okay to cry. Even if for self-satisfaction.

Speaking of which, I thought as I checked the calendar. Today was my birthday, so I intended to wait for the postman the whole day and hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but a client was coming tomorrow. I should clean up the reception room at least a little.

“Hey, Ann. It is your birthday, so how about going outside with your friends and having a meal with them?”

I had to sweep the floor, take the garbage off the carpet and dust the dirt on the furniture.

“Even just eating something tasty is enough, Ann.”

Right, I should bake some sweets to serve to the costumer tomorrow. It could also be used as celebration for my birthday.

“Ann, aren’t you lonely all by yourself?”

If I was certain, that person had eaten the sweets I baked when we first met with relish. He had a sweet tooth.

As I recalled the figure of that young entrepreneur eating, looking embarrassed and delighted, a smile surfaced naturally. Out of the people that I was currently engaging with, he might be the one whose visit I looked forward to the most. I did think that men were frowny and sullen creatures, but he was adorable.

I rolled up my sleeves with an “all right” and headed to the kitchen.

   “Delivery.”

As the front door’s bell rang and the voice of a visitor ensued, I frantically flung away my bowl and whisk and ran. This is what happens when you distractedly make sweets for about an hour. I was covered in flour and looking unbecoming, but there was no helping it.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

I opened the door in high spirits, and standing there was a postman wearing the uniform of the city’s post office, which I was familiar with. I was disappointed enough that even I myself would think it was a bit childish of me. The other didn’t see my facial expression as he requested my signature for the express delivery without looking at me, but I wound up having an impolite attitude.

——It wasn’t the CH Postal Company.

My mother’s birthday messages were being kept by the CH Postal Company, a mail company that had its main office located in Leiden – the capital of Leidenschaftlich, a southernmost military nation. Therefore, if a different company had come, then the mail wasn’t from my mother.

“Thank you very much.”

I had received three packages. One was a table clock from my legal advisor. The others were accessories and a shawl that were trending in the city from my friends.

There were people getting married and having children upon turning nineteen. All of my closest friends had been quick to marry. Both my opinion that secluding themselves in their homes was a waste in this era of professional women and my envy at the fact that they had found themselves a partner in an early stage of their lives coexisted in the depths of my mind.

“You don’t have to hurry; if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

Having lost my mother, with this vast land and this manor of excessively elegant exterior in my possession... I couldn’t think that having a family wouldn’t be a good thing.

——Family... family... family, huh?

Did I want a family? Did I really? Those genuine questions surfaced in my mind first-thing.

Welcoming a family would mean welcoming that person’s life. It was an extremely heavy choice. “In health and sickness,” people would lightheartedly say. I believed there were actually few people who properly understood it.

My friends who had married. The people who walked around the city. Lovers and family members from all over the world – everyone. Did they all truly understand? They only looked on the happy side, so could they endure it when a sad scenario arrived upon them? Wouldn’t they end up thinking that not loving the other person would have been better?

“Human beings are creatures that love others in pursuit of happiness, Ann.”

In my experience, since I had seen off the person who was most important to me, the truth was that I didn’t want to go through it ever again. Being told to do it one more time was too hard. Even twenty years later, painful things would be painful.

I brought my consciousness back to reality.

Colorful ribbons, extravagant wrappings and wonderful gifts. As my social disposition was coming to a slight halt, those people were irreplaceable to me. I had to write thank-you notes right away. For these kinds of things, the faster, the better. Because it conveyed sincerity.

I should go back to my bedroom and look for the stationery and envelopes. They were surely somewhere there.

“Ann.”

——Aah, but was it a pretty stationery?

Maybe I should choose a different one, fitting of these wonderful presents.

“Ann, listen.”

They were surely items that took a while to be picked, so I should respond to the other party’s feelings the same way. There were many things to be watchful of here. I had to do it quick. I had to do it soon.

“Please listen.”

Nobody else was going to do it; I was the one who had to. No matter what, I had to do it. I had to taste joy and sadness all by myself and end it fast. Because I was alone. Hurry. I had to hurry and do it.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t move.

“Ann.”

I was in the middle of making sweets, and writing thank-you notes required some preparation. Above all, I couldn’t calm down until my mother’s letter arrived.

Giving several reasons, I made up several excuses not to move.

“Ann... it’s okay.”

I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything became a bother. Even though hands were covered in flour and I was still wearing an apron, I lay on the couch, rolled into fetal position and scrunched down.

Although I had received such marvelous gifts, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. Even though it was something to be grateful for to the point I could be in a good mood the whole day, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. It didn’t last.

“Ann, it’s okay.”

Today was that kind of day.

“Ann, don’t force yourself; I’m sorry.”

——I’m sorry.

“Sorry...”

——I’m sorry.

“Ann, I’m sorry...”

To me, my birthday was...

“...for leaving you behind when you were so small.”

...not my day. It was my mother’s.

——Mom. Why? Just why? Why, Mom? Why did you die sooner than the mothers of the other kids? What is it that went wrong? Did the fact that I was born itself become a burden to you? If so, then I shouldn’t have been born.

I loved you, Mom. Did you know that? I liked you a whole, whole lot. Tired of hearing this? But you didn’t know it, right? Even if you knew, you probably didn’t understand how much I liked you. I’m sure you had no idea how much.

When I realized it, I had more time seeing you in a grave than otherwise. But you’re everywhere in our house. On the sofa that you often sat on. In the music that you enjoyed. On the bed that still smells like you. In myself, who resembles you more and more with each day.

Mom, Mom, Mom – you keep reminding me of how much I loved you. When I was little, you were the world itself.

Mom. You loved me. I know that. But I loved you too. I was the one who... I was... I was... I was the one who...

Aah, Mom. Mom, there are so many things I want to tell you. But if I can say it, there’s just one thing.

Mom, you died without knowing how much I loved you, right?

I loved you much more than you could’ve imagined. I really, really suffered when you died. Enough that I couldn’t breathe.

People often say that time heals all wounds. But I really hate that saying. Rather than things being solved, we forget about them, don’t we? People’s voices, facial expressions, gestures – we forget these kinds of things. Yet I remember them in unexpected times. Like, “Oh, yeah, Mom used to like this”. “Oh, yeah, Mom used to hate that”. And then I blame myself vehemently for forgetting them. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your whole world”. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your only family”. The loop of agony has no end.

I adored you, Mom. I loved you. I loved you, so for just as much love as I had for you, it feels like my heart will break. It feels like my heart will break every time my birthday comes around. Feels like it will break. It’s painful and there’s no helping it.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I laid on my side. I was looking forward to today so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and yet I wound up crying again this year. I would’ve been great if I could welcome it with a smile.

A birthday was a special day.

It was nothing to the rest of the world, just an ordinary day, but it was a special one for me. Because... Because it was a day when I could feel Mom coming back to me. I looked forward to it so much that I couldn’t help myself, but at the same time, I was also helplessly sad. Because I felt my mother’s absence more than anything. Because the truth that she wasn’t here was thrust onto me.

Destiny spoke to me. Either that or God did. “Hey, your mother’s already dead. How long you gonna be crying? Stand up. If you’re alive, stand up.”

Since the world was so merciless, all I could do was nod at those words and say, “Yes, yes, true.”

By entrusting my body to hecticness, I was able to remain as someone who could stand on her own feet, just like Destiny and God wanted. I normally didn’t feel loneliness. I didn’t cry. After all, twelve years had already passed. It was weird to cry like this on and on forever. It was weird, right? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t cry too much. That would make me a bad girl. A girl wasn’t suitable to be the family head of the Magnolia household. I had to become a person who my mother could be proud of from within that portrait.

Wasn’t that right? I couldn’t prove the worth of my existence by doing anything else.

But on this day when I was aware that my mother loved me, I was no good. No good. I’d turn into a mess. The seven-year-old Ann Magnolia would come back to me. She’d say it all. She’d end up saying it. Always, always, always. She’d say what I was holding back from saying.

“I’m lonely”, that is.

I had as many ways of spending my birthday as I had birthdays. Surely, there were millions of people in the world whose birthday was today. How were all of them spending it? Were they spending it in a fulfilling way? There definitely were also people who lived their lives either not knowing when their birthday was or forgetting about it.

So I wasn’t miserable. Nor was I comparing myself with them. That wasn’t it. Because there were certainly people somewhere around the world who were feeling as lonely as me.

There was another thing that I had learned during the time I worked in the city. That loneliness wasn’t something only I had. Many people would come to the law firm and ask for advice regarding their troubles. Everyone was burdened with problems of their own. And everyone was a bit lonely in some aspect. It wasn’t just me, so I didn’t feel lonely.

That person too, and that one, and that other one. Everybody was sad in one way or another.

“I have to get up.”

I had stopped doing what I would do by accident – stopped throwing myself into a sea of sadness. The sea of sadness in my head was a real nuisance, yet it was also comfortable as it enveloped my body in gentle waves of self-pity. But I shouldn’t go too far. Or else I wouldn’t be able to stand up again. It wasn’t like food and sweets would materialize from my sadness.

I counted the things I had to do. Bake sweets. Clean up. I had a number of torn aprons, which I would remake into rags. And then... And then...

“Madam Magnolia, are you home?”

A real-life happening immediately pulled me out of my reverie. I ran toward the front door, from where the voice had come. As I opened the door with much vigor while making extremely improper heavy-feet noises, I found two visitors.

“Hum?”

One of them was... Aah, I was waiting for you. It was a postman wearing the CH Postal Company uniform. He was holding under his arm a letter and a package with what was most likely the gift that my mother had arranged for today.

“Aah, excuse me. Please go first.”

The other was the customer who had made an appointment reservation for tomorrow. A stray young entrepreneur. His finely tailored clothes were easy to recognize as something not order-made and that he didn’t like but was wearing regardless.

Had he mistaken the appointment day?

“Erm, then...”

The two had bumped onto each other at the front gate and both had some business with me, so they were probably conceding the turn to one another. Having been granted it, the CH Postal Company’s postman stood before me, politely giving me the letter and present with a slightly tensed-up countenance.

“This is the CH Postal Company. I have come to bring your delivery... You might be already tired of hearing this vocal message so many times, but happy birthday this year too, Madam Magnolia.”

That was a postman I had never seen before. It was a different person from last year.

“T-Tired, you say... There’s no way I would ever be.”

Still, the fact he was saying these lines meant that the demands commissioned by my mother were being properly kept and protected by that company. That was it.

“Thank you very much. For every year, truly... truly. Please tell this to your chairman too.”

“Y-Yes! Our president is the kind of person that gets very happy at inputs from the clients, so I’ll make sure to tell him!”

I had never met the president of the CH Postal Company, but for someone so young to be talking about him in such a familiar-sounding way, he had to be a wonderful person.

“I’m taking it.”

I signed the acceptance document. The postman laughed as if relieved. Also relieved, I finally looked seriously at him. He was a very young postman. Perhaps from about the same generation as me. The freckled boy looked even younger when laughing.

“I became in charge of it this year. It’s a big area, so I ended up getting a bit lost... I made you wait a lot, didn’t I?”

“Eh, no, no.”

“But you came running as if you were eagerly waiting for it.”

“Yes.”

Recalling the surprised faces of the two young men the moment I had opened the door, I trembled with shame. I was supposed to behave elegant and beautifully as the head of the Magnolia family. Yet I was covered in flour, my hair was disheveled because I had been lying down and I had showed up with footsteps that sounded like the ones of a large man.

Touching my cheeks, which were most likely growing red, I said, “I apologize for showing you an embarrassing sight... No matter what, I always wind up restless on this day.”

“Absolutely not. I’m the one who is sorry for coming late. I have already perfectly memorized the way, so please treat me well next year too.” The postman bowed with a “well, then” and ran toward a parked motorcycle.

After seeing him off, I directed my gaze at the other visitor that had been waiting for me. He, too, slowly looked my way.

“Hello.”

The morning sunshine had disappeared, a dazzling midday light filling up for it. It seemed that quite some time had passed while I was sulking on the couch. With a season of fresh green colors as the background, he was supposed to be a foreign body for me... and for this world of mine, yet he blended appallingly well into it.

“Hello.” My voice sounded a little shrill. “Isn’t there any flour on my face?” As I said this while rubbing my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, he took a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me.

Not minding me as I stiffened up in shock, he said with an earnest attitude, “There is, right here.”

“Ah, all right.”

“And here too.”

“I’m sorry. I was making sweets...”

Wiping myself with the neatly folded handkerchief, it almost seemed like I had gone back to being a child. It was the second time today that my cheeks were dyed red.

“Well, what is your matter...?”

“Aah, that’s right. I was nearby and... hum, I heard from Mr. Robert, the one who introduced you to me, that it was your birthday today, so... though it’s presumptuous of me, I was thinking about celebrating it...”

Robert was the law advisor who had been protecting me since my childhood. Now that he had mentioned it, I remembered that he was introduced to me by Robert. The budget wasn’t compatible with the case, so it had been passed over to me.

——“Nearby”?

Finding a strange point in a part of his story, I said timidly, “This whole area... is my land... You had business near here?”

Silence.

“You’re also seeing Mr. Robert even though you’re working with me...?”

He raised a hand my way as if to ask me to wait and averted his face, looking embarrassed. Had I said anything bad?

“I take it back.”

“All right.”

“I lied... I wanted, hum, to spend time with you somehow...”

“Haah...”

Perhaps having become unable to look at me in the eyes, he kept his face turned away and continued speaking to the direction of the day after tomorrow, “Mr. Robert is a teatime friend from a café that I already frequented... He introduced you to me as a favor... And I heard from him the other day that today was your birthday. Also, I did not just happen to come nearby. It’s impossible to come here without a car or carriage. I do not have much money, so I ended up walking the way here. But it was no coincidence; I came here because I had an objective.”

As I asked, “What’s the objective”, he turned over the palm that had been telling me to wait and showed it to me. That “it’s you”.

I was perplexed. This kind of thing hadn’t happened in my life very often. When it did, it was usually people aiming for my fortune, so I vaguely wondered if he was the same as them.

“Want to come in? If it’s just drinking tea together, then...”

In any case, as the head of the Magnolia family, I had to entertain the guest. After this thought worked its way to me, an alarm sounded in my head that he might deem this as an invitation. That wasn’t my intention, so what should I do if he believed it was?

——What’s up with me? I don’t know if I’m happy or scared.

Aah, my heartbeats were so loud. My cheeks were so hot it felt like they were burning.

——Anyway, I have to say something.

“Hum.”

As I hesitated to speak, he shook his head. “Ah, no. I will have to come again tomorrow, so I’m going home. I have already accomplished my objective.”

“Is that so?” I was a tad out of tune. A little – very relieved.

I observed him while he didn’t try to look at me even a bit. His hands were trembling. Even though he gave off an easygoing impression, he was the type of person who couldn’t hide what was inside.

“I really just came here because I wanted to wish you happy birthday. Just before coming, I hesitated a lot on whether to go today or not... I also don’t have... any presents worthy of a lady like you, so I wanted to at least say these words.”

That sentence surprised my already stunned self even more. “At least these words”, he said. Were there any words that could make his goodwill more obvious?

“I’m sorry. I should have at least arranged something for you, right? Really, a broke man like me showing up out of nowhere... I’m sorry...”

“No, I don’t want material things that much... I prefer this feeling of... wanting to celebrate because it’s my birthday... much more...”

The words cut off midway. What happened to me? Right now, pain and joy were squeezing my chest tightly. It was suffocating.

The easily perceivable love of this person in front of me, as well as his kindness, his sincerity and all these other soft and warm things were appearing in the lonely parts of me and causing me to feel dizzy.

“Ann, can you hear me?”

I had to regain my sanity; I would surely be sober again tomorrow. I shouldn’t open my heart so easily now.

“Ann, please, listen.”

Because the world was cruel. Even if I fell in love with him, sad things were bound to happen.

“Okay? If you’re listening...”

It might be a calculated love; he could just be pretending and was actually a horrible person.

No, I had to wonder about that. It was indeed true that he came the way here on foot. After all, his shoes were dirty with mud. There was grass sticking to it as if he gone through an animal trail.

“If you’re listening, grab onto it.”

Aah, Mom. From now on, I would surely keep questioning you over and over during times like these. Asking you questions in my mind. “Mom, is this correct? Is this the right path,” I would ask. Because you were the only one who had given me love without second intentions. So please, give me an answer.

“Believe in yourself, Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.”

I was sure that the vision of my mother had whispered this to me.

I reached out with my hand. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his jacket.

“I’m going to bake sweets now. Today is my birthday, but I don’t have any plans, so if you’d like, why don’t we eat the baked sweets together outside? I don’t need anything. If you’re going to give me something, then I want just a bit of time for us to celebrate my birthday together,” I told him.

“Thanks.” He was not unkind to my wheat flour-covered hand, grasping it while his face went bright red. “That’d be great,” he said three or so times. The phrase “I like sweet foods” was probably said five times.

I... I found it so funny that I laughed.

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case. But I put in a little effort. I tried making it special on my own. From this point onward, I would definitely keep doing that. I would. I was all alone in this manor. But I was the most special girl in the world to a certain person. It was okay to indulge myself at least on my birthday. I thought this once again reading my mother’s letter later.

Ann, congratulations on your nineteenth birthday. I can’t imagine how you’re doing at nineteen years of age. I really wonder how you’re doing. Are you well? Aren’t you going hungry? I wonder if you became a wonderful lady. Aah, I want to see it. I truly wanted to see it. You have no idea how much I love you, do you? You see, Mom loves the nineteen-year-old you. I’ll love you even as you turn a hundred years old. I can’t tell you face-to-face, so I’m properly writing it here. I love you. No matter what anyone says, I love you. You have the right to be loved. My Ann, be free. My Ann, laugh with joy. My Ann, be happy. My Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.

—From Mom

   “There’s no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

[the-crows-typist]

Hello! I recently read your azul's ficlet and i'm close to crying at how beautiful it is (its 4am emo hours). If its okay, may I request a ficlet of Jade with a gn!reader with the word 'sleep' or 'rest' (pick whichever suits better!). Thank you in advance! 💖

CW: Spoilers for the movie Your Name (Kimi no na wa), character death, body switching, angst with a happy ending, and slow burn (sort of)

Feedback in greatly appreciated!

Thank you to @opalmaplehibiscus , @jellyfishstuckinwonderland , and @raven-at-the-writing-desk for the input in the making of this fic. I greatly appreciate your help.

The Possibilities are Endless

“My name is..”

“Please remember me...!”

The crowds on the train pushed them apart, a braided bracelet was tossed towards Jade. A lifeline connecting both of them together, a connection between two souls; the face of one that was desperate to keep holding on, they yelled one last time just as the doors of the train closed and their grip on the bracelet wrap loosened.

“My name is—!”

Jade opened his eyes and he was in his room, his very dark room.  To his side was his closet and to the other a white wall. The sound of bubbling water churned behind the window of his dorm room and with one slow blink, he pulled himself up and hunched over.

The same dream, the same voice, the same bracelet tossed to him.

He craned his head to his lamp stand where the colorful wrap lay next to his earring, he doesn’t remember where he got it nor does he remember why he wanted to keep it for so long. He took the bracelet and looked at it and thought back to the voice in his dream.

“Please remember me...!”

Pushing himself off he moved to the mirror to fix his appearance, with his brush and hair gel in hand he let out a gasp when the lights of vanity shined light on a note. A note written on his cheek with a marker, a message he didn’t remember writing.

“Who are you?”

It was during breakfast that Jade began to notice the strange happenings around him, how Azul asked if he was feeling better or how Floyd said he was wearing his earring again. “What do you mean,” Jade questioned. “I always wear it.”

“You weren’t yesterday. And you looked so lost like some little guppy, you even forget how to get to class yesterday morning.” Floyd complained, eating his breakfast with a huff. “Was it a prank? Cuz’ you got me good.”

What was he doing yesterday?

He woke up, went to school...No. That wasn’t what happened. He didn’t recall anything from the previous day. In fact, he remembered being at  a different place.

In a city full of buildings and faraway from the sea, the familiar smell of white roses, the smile of an unfamiliar fellow and a bento box he had no recollection of him cooking or making.

His uniform wasn’t black but a cream with a tint of yellow, his magical pen was nowhere to be seen and was instead replaced with a pen nib brooch.  He touches his cheek, remembering the message written on his cheek. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, you gotta tell me.” Floyd pestered, his arm over Jade’s neck “Was it a prank?”

“Perhaps.” The twins laughed, Floyd pulling close but in his mind he thought of the message, his incapability to remember the previous day. He needed more answers but only questions filled his head.

His notes were a mess and full of sketches. There were sketches of Night Raven’s facade and the students, his classmates. A slew of messy messages on paper, the handwriting worrying as if the person writing was stressed beyond belief.

“The uniforms are black, the gems are pens.”

“Nothing but roses for miles.”

“Wishing well???”

“Where am I?”

“Mr Leech, please read the next line.”

“Yes, sir.”

Trein’s brow raised and he blinked. “Well, today you actually remember your name. Perhaps you were just feeling ill.” A hum of laughter passed through the class. “And your hair is fixed as well; I was beginning to think you and your brother switched places when you came into class with a messy bed head.”

Jade blinked, tilting his head. “I...see. I’ll make sure to not make that mistake again, professor.”

“Good. Continue on reading.”

“Magic transcends all meaning when twilight occurs, when the sun and the moon share the sky for a single moment.” Trein explained, using a magical pointer. “The word twilight means ‘half-light’ when the light of the sun glows and causes refraction in the atmosphere and signaling the end of the morning and welcoming of night or visa versa. At times like this does magic become unpredictable and free-forming and when realities begin to overlap each other for the time twilight occurs. This was used to the advantage of the earliest magician in recorded history.”

Trein faced his students. “Nowadays, these times of day are known as dusk and dawn as the world twilight has fallen out of favor in recent years.”

“It’s probably because of that one book.” A student yelled from the rows behind and Trein nodded his head. “Ah, yes, ten years ago was an odd time for the word ‘twilight’.” Trein blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Who would have thought the human body produced so much diamonds but that is beside the point.” The bell rang and the students began taking their books. “Be sure to read up on your lesson today, we will be having a quiz tomorrow on the topic.”

Jade stayed in his seat for some time and stared at the diagram on the board.

Twilight.

In the back of his mind, a flash of a memory comes to him. He remembers a train stopping by and the droves of people coming in and out. Jade was alone that time, buying something some seeds or fungi. The sun was setting at the time, the yellow sun turning orange and the sky dimming to a nightly violet.

“Jade.”

He didn’t know the person who called out his name nor did he remember what they looked like but he did remember the smile they had, as if they were looking for him for a long time, it was a  face relief. 

“It’s me.”

He didn’t know who this person was nor did he ever remember their face and yet, at that instant he seemed to have known them his entire life. In his heart was a feeling of warmth, of glee, of content and relief; he was confused by it all. A strike of panic pierced his heart when that smile turned into a confused and upset frown. “You don’t...remember me..?”

The next stop came and people began filing out, pushing the two of them away from each other. “Jade, please remember me!” They said as they were pushed out by the crowd. Reaching up, they pulled the braided tie from their hair and threw it out of him. “Please remember me..!”

He caught the braided tie just as the other let go and doors began to close.

“My name is—!”

“Is there something wrong, Mr Leech?” He blinked, looking to Trein with confusion. He had missed the door and stood by the wall of the classroom. “Ah—I’m sorry.” There was a hissy laugh from Lucius as Trein set him down on the table to collect his papers. “You seem to be in deep thought, is there something on your mind?”

“No, professor, I was just thinking about our topic today.” Jade lied through his teeth and Trein took it with a huff. “I know twilight is a regular phenomenon but I didn’t know that it was an important time of day for mages and magicians.” A nod came from his professor. “Many people nowadays don’t see its importance as magical materials and magic itself have grown and changed over time. With the new technology and the new breakthroughs we have, the archaic practices of the past have since then been abandoned.”

Trein looked to the window and Jade followed his gaze, the sun began to set and the color of orange and violet painted the sky. “Twilight has begun.” Picking up his beloved cat, Trein stretched his back and moved to face the student in front of him. “It’s best to get back to your dorm, you might miss the curfew.”

“Professor, have you ever experienced anything during twilight? Like the way you’ve explained it during class?” Jade asked suddenly, his professor’s eyes widened then looking to the side to think for a moment. “I have but they were more of dreams than the otherworldly claims of recording happenings. I would often see myself in another person’s shoes, seeing a world I did not know about, it wasn’t a pleasant experience but...It was interesting, for a dream at least.”

“I see. Thank you very much, professor. I’ll be on my way.”

He stared at his messy notebook unblinking, the messy handwriting and the sketches were foreign to him. He drew a few doodles but he never put any detail to it nor was he able to do sketches of his peers in movement.

“Where am I?”

Taking his pen, Jade wrote a message. What had happened to him wasn’t a dream, he knew that and he knew that what he was about to do wasn’t a sure fire guarantee that whoever wrote this will see it but the unpredictability of the situation allowed him to push through with an eagerness to see the end results.

“You are in Night Raven College. My name is Jade.”

The night loomed over the dorm, the once blue waters a dark purple and tinge of black. Twilight has ended. Jade closes his eyes for a moment and sighed, thinking back about the lesson and to the confused glances of his peers.

“Please remember me...!” The voice begged, the image of a braided bracelet flowing through the air as it flew towards him. Tugging his sleeve, the bracelet was wrapped around his wrist snugly; its design was simple and bright mix of blue, yellow, and red.

“Please remember me...!”

Jade tugs his sleeves back down, only stepping out of to his bed when he felt tired. The bracelet was removed from his wrist and sat next to him.

“My name is—!”

The voice echoed through his mind, he felt that he should remember it,  he felt like he should know who it was, and all he felt was frustration and eagerness to see this unpredictable situation through. He closed his eyes wanting to rest his eyes rather than sleep.

“So this is what Night Raven College looks like. It’s very pretty, your uniforms are very pretty too but I’m not used to the environment there. It’s probably because of the walls or the silence.”

It had been a few days since the messaging through the notebook began with Jade and his pen pal, of sorts.  It seemed that his new pen pal had been observing weird happenings to them too. Their classmates telling them of their weird behaviors, one time all they ate were mushrooms.

“I don’t even like mushrooms and because of you I ate a whole lot of them in just one day!”

It seemed that his odd dreams of seeing another world unlike his own weren’t dreams after all. The white and yellow uniforms, the sweet smell of lilies, and the pen nib brooch all pointed to Royal Swords Academy. Apparently the person he switched bodies with studied there.

“And I was told that I ate eel for lunch and it upset my brother. It seems both of us are even on this regard.”

He always wrote messages on his notebook the moment he got home and he preferred it that way rather than waking up to writings on his face and arms. The marker ink was hard to wash off, even with large amounts of sudsy soaps.

“We have a notebook to communicate for a reason, please use that.”

“I like writing on your hand, Jade.”

There were moments that he expressed frustration with them, even anger but that soon dissipated into childish antics of messages written on skin, eating disgusting foods they came to like, and a bond that transcended physical reality. They were from two different worlds and yet, here they were being friends.

All this was just like a dream to him.

“Hey, about that braided bracelet...Where did you get it? I had one just like it before it disappeared; I used to wear it on my hair.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that. It just came with me, I suppose. I couldn’t part with it for some reason so I’ve been wearing it ever since.”

“I guess we just so happened to have the same braided tie, huh? Hehehe!”

After class, Jade went to experience the twilight hour for once and see the students filter out of school and run about. It was the end of the week and it was a time for fun, brooms flew overhead and magical swirls of dust were thrown about by fun-loving students.

“What I like about your school is that none of you are afraid to get dirty and have fun.” He remembered his pen pal writing. “I love RSA but the uniforms and the rules we live by stop us from having fun like all of you there in NRC.”

He couldn’t blame them, RSA had some rules to go by and the uniforms really stopped them from having fun too. The chaos that he saw in RSA wasn’t like those in NRC, not by a long shot but he could see the charm it had in it despite the difference in school life.

Jade wanted them to experience this first hand one day. In their own body, of course.

 He went back to his room when the sun had disappeared and the moon stood in its place. Sitting by the notebook, he took his magical pen from his pocket and began writing his response to his pen pal’s recent message. 

“RSA has beautiful scenery, there’s no doubt about it. It’s a nice change of pace from the gothic feel NRC has, I find it rather peaceful. Though the sudden music lessons do tend to throw me off but that is something I will eventually come to get used to.

He tapped his pen on his desk, humming at his short reply. He looked at his wrist; the braid coiled around his wrist and was vibrant under the yellow light of his lamp. Unlike them, he never really gave hints of what his school life was about nor did he give details of what it was like to spend a day in RSA.

“We had a lesson about the magical phenomena known as Twilight. Apparently around that time, magic becomes different and realities begin to overlap...Do you think that’s what’s causing us to switch bodies?”

 “Twilight...I’ve heard of that phenomenon too! It actually makes sense, maybe that’s what's causing it but if it’s really true then that’s some real strong magic!” 

Jade slept that late that night, the braided tie next to his forehead. For once, he didn’t dream of the train station but of a hand coming up to take his own. No, it wasn’t his hand, it was his pen pal’s hand, and it grasped softly then tugged for him to follow. 

He was on a mountain, the sky glittering with millions upon millions of stars. It was a beautiful sight, his eyes widening as the stars grew closer and closer, the heat around him rising and rising; burning his skin and singing his hair. The world around him was destroyed and the last thing he heard was the terrified scream of someone he was beginning to hold dear. 

He awoke with a gasp, his eyes tearful and his lungs out of breath. Next to him were a concerned Azul and his brother Floyd. “We could hear you gasping from the hallway.” Azul explained but Jade kicked off his covers and ran to his desk, his notebook, their means of communication was empty. The messages he had collected with them were gone and only his own remained.

His brother tugged at his shoulder. “Look at me.” He was whirled around, their foreheads touching. “Breathe. You’re gonna give yourself an attack if you don’t breathe.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning against his brother to breathe harshly. A pair of hands pats his back, Azul’s and Floyd’s, in an act of comfort but none of their touches reached Jade. He was too confused, too shaken up, too anxious. “It was just a bad dream.”

A dream...

What he had seen in the eyes of his pen pal was all a dream...?

Pen pal?

“It’s best that you get some more rest.” Azul said, pulling Jade back to his bed. “I’ll explain to the teachers what happened to you.” Floyd nudged him down and pulled the covers up until his brother’s chin. “We need you well rested, Jade. We’ll have the others check on you every once in a while.”

He forced himself to breathe slowly and carefully, his eyes screwed shut and thoughts in a whirlwind. His memories scrambling and confusing, he tries to remember the train station, the lake that was on RSA’s sloping hills and the falling meteorite.

Had there been a meteor shower? There was no news of it, no indication.

A hand caressed his head, shushing his sounds to silence. 

“Sleep, Jade.”

The next day, Jade spent all his time in the library with books about stars and meteors and sleep being the furthest thing from his mind. He poured through the articles about meteor showers, checking online news sites, and pouring through scientific documents.

Nothing.

No recent reports of a meteor shower anywhere near the area of RSA or NRC. 

A frustrated sigh left Jade’s lips and he held his head with a huff, burying his fingers into his hair when a fluffy tail rubbed and pawed against his arm. “Good to see you’re up and about, Mr Leech.” Trein stood over him as Lucius stepped over the articles to sit on one of the books. 

“I didn’t know you were taking a liking to astronomy.” The professor commented, taking an article and reading through it. “Meteor showers, eh? I haven’t seen those for some time. The last one was beautiful but also very tragic.”

“What do you mean, professor?” Jade stared up at his teacher, slightly surprised.

“You weren’t in NRC at the time this happened but there was a meteor shower that passed by Twisted Wonderland, it was a festive time...But that soon became a tragedy when a fragment broke off from one of the passing meteorites.” He sighed, closing his eyes and setting the paper down. “Though NRC and RSA have been rivals for a long time, I can’t bear to think such a catastrophic event would happen to them.”

His heart skipped a beat, eyes wide in surprise. “You mean to say...”

“A meteorite fragment fell on RSA three years ago, specifically on the field just outside the school where some students were watching the shower. Those poor children...” 

The white crystal of his magical pen glowed bright and Jade pushed himself off his chair, figure hunched forward and head hung low. Lucius let out a meow as he scrambled away from the student. “Mr Leech, what are you doing?” Trein demanded but his voice fell on deaf ears, Jade remembers his last dream, the last time he switched bodies. He remembers the falling meteorite, the scream that wasn’t his own, he remembers them.

His pen pal.

In a burst of magic, Jade disappeared from his position leaving a scared Lucius and a confused and upset Mozus Trein.

The landscape around him was heavy, the crater left by the meteorite was massive and no traces of life were seen within the impact zone. The memory of the meteorite fragment falling right on top of his pen pal, killing them instantly played again and again in his head. Jade, normally so aloof and calm, fell to his knees.

They died. 

They died where he stood.

For the first time in a long while, Jade screamed his heart out. A wail of agony loud enough to echo through the empty void that was essentially his pen pal resting place. He sunk to his knees and continued crying until his throat became hoarse and painful.

He laid on his side as the sun went down, the braided tie peeked out of his blazer. 

“Please remember me—!”

The train station...Was that a dream too? What had he been doing when he was in there? What was he there for?

Who was calling out his name.

“Jade...?”

The sun set over him, the sky turning orange and violet. It was twilight hour.

 “Jade..”

“Jade.”

 There was a touch to his shoulder and a soft shake. His head turned, his eyes widened. A student from RSA stood over him. They smelled of white lilies, uniform a mix of white and yellow, and their magical crystal a pen nib brooch. There was a familiar gleam in their eyes, a smile he came to know from the many days they had switched bodies. 

His pen pal smiled at him, offering their hand for him to take. “It’s really you, Jade. It’s actually you.” 

They laughed, pulling Jade into a hug; his tall figure dwarfing them easily as they hugged his chest. Jade sighed, returning the hug soon after and rocking each other back and forth for a few moments the sun shined in the horizon.

“I thought I lost you, y’know?” They said, looking up at him. “I just...I suddenly couldn’t reach you.” 

“I thought you had died. I saw the meteor fall on you.”

They looked at each other for a moment and a laugh was shared, their foreheads linked together soon after. “I know but...somehow, maybe...I don’t really know what happened to me. I just couldn’t reach you to tell you what happened on that day. I nearly forgot about you and I cried for days wondering why.”

Pulling away, they looked down to Jade’s wrist. “Hey, that bracelet...”

“You gave it to me in the train station.”

It was all coming back to him now. This person, his pen pal, was someone he held dear for a long time.

He felt comfort.

“Oh yeah! I did, didn’t I?”

“Do you want it back?”

“No. Keep it.”

The two held hands for some time but were immediately thwarted by them pulling out a marker. “Hey, why don’t we write our names? That way, if we ever forget each other there’ll always be a reminder. Ah, but I don’t have any paper with me...”

Jade offered his palm, his smile teasing and knowing. “You always liked writing on my skin.”

They shared another laugh and the marker’s cap was pulled off, Jade looking over the horizon as they wrote their name on his palm. “Your turn.” 

He took the pen from them and as soon as he wrote the starting strokes of his name, the marker fell from his grasp.

The twilight hour had ended and the moon took over the sky.

“Eh...? What am I...doing...?” 

Jade was found by his peers not long after, taking him in and letting him rest as they descended the crater near RSA. Mozus Trein was their chaperone, explaining to the staff of the rival school and covering his own students.

“Someone he knew died here,” He explained, looking at Jade being covered with a blanket by his brother. Jade’s eyes were closed and he leaned against him, clearly exhausted from the ordeal and exposure to the elements.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, professor.” Said one RSA’s employees, brows upturned and frowning deep. “The meteorite crash was a very tragic event for all schools. I can’t imagine how much grief that young boy has gone through knowing that a friend of his died that day.”

“I hope you can look the other way on this. I know we shouldn’t come into each other’s premises without proper—“ 

“It’s quite alright. I’ll explain the situation to the headmaster once everything has settled.”

Floyd pulled his brother to his chest and stood up, Azul placing a hand on his back. 

“Let’s go home, Jade.” 

Jade wasn’t alone that night, Floyd and Azul wouldn’t allow him to be alone. They slept next to him, keeping him company but while the two slept, he couldn’t. The moon shone against his window and gave his room a very soft blue glow. He raised his hand to his face, the message from someone he held dear was still visible but slightly smudged.

“Thank you.”

Bitterness rose in his chest and to his throat, his brows furrowed in frustration. The tears forming stung his eyes.

“You idiot,” he brought his palm to his face, sniffling. “I can’t remember you this way.”

A year had passed and the dreams stopped coming after that night. Jade had picked up the habit of sitting outside during twilight hour, watching the set and holding the bracelet that never left his wrist for more than a second. He wore it everywhere he went but when asked; he never had a proper reason for it.

“I feel complete wearing it.”

The yearly magical shift festival brought troves of customers and onlookers, Jade and his brother sat on a bench and let their legs rest after a long day. “I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want anything?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll buy some myself.” 

“’Kay.”

Jade was left alone after that and he closed his eyes for a moment, his nose taking in the different smells of food and perfumes.

There was a familiar smell of white lilies.

“Excuse me.” 

A person stood in front of him, holding a brochure. They were a uniform of white and yellow and a pen nib brooch. They smiled at him and familiar warmth bloomed in his chest. “I don’t mean to disturb you or anything.” 

Their smile was sheepish but it felt as if he’d seen it somewhere before.

“Do we know each other by any chance?”

“I think so.” Jade’s smile was easy and suddenly their eyes began to water. “I had a feeling we did.”

“Hey,” Jade reached over and intertwined their hands, the bracelet’s colors were vibrant against his skin and theirs.

“May I…”

“Can I…”

“...Know your name?”

[teaboot]

Hey I just wanted to ask you something I don't know if its personal so maybe I'll start with me, my psychiatrist told me that I have asperger's syndrome and like my mom keeps asking me like what does that means because I think she sees people with autism as stupid and I'm at the top of my class so she feels like it's a mistake, I personally go mute for months sometimes except for like oral tests, and idk I forget about having a body and so I hit onto walls when I'm focused on something but *

"...*is not so exaggerated like I'm pretty functional I just forget that there are walls and doors and that I can't just transport me to the other room or so,I mean I feel like I'm just trying to find what my "weird or autistic" traits are to justify the diagnosis,I didn't asked my psychiatrist to elaborate on that and so I was wondering, what would you say that your autistic traits are?Also just in case,I know that autistic people can be hella smart and I think that you are really wise I admire you"

Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you to say!

Honestly, I'm sort of in a similar situation- My parents' reaction was to say, "you're too smart to be autistic" or, "Everyone of ~your intelligence~ is a little weird in the head, anyways", and then. Expect me to live up to all the positive stereotypes without ever getting bogged down by the negative realities?

This might not be very helpful at all of me to say, but as an adult who grew up in a rather unpleasant environment, there really isn't much help for a number of things except getting old and independant enough to move out, and then just accepting that their perception of reality isn't open to negotiation. You can try debating it, or meeting them on common ground with scientific basis, but in my case....

....well. There's just some things I now know not to talk about at family gatherings.

I'm sorry, I know that's probably not very helpful or heartening to hear. 

As for my personal grab bag of symptoms? I tend to hyperfocus on personal projects. When I'm really invested in an art piece, I often forget to eat or sleep or drink, and the only way I've learned to snap out of that is that if my hands are shaking or I'm falling over a lot, I probably need to eat something and lay down for a while, because otherwise- and yeah, not the healthiest motivator- otherwise I might start fucking up my hard work.

I also get overwhelmed by overlapping noises- if two people are talking at once, even if one is on a radio or TV show, I can't hear either of them and it stresses the shit out of me. White noise, like in malls or assemblies, also tends to burn my energy pretty fast.

Things like leaf blowers, people whistling indoors, and emergency sirens are physically painful. Repetitive noises like a bouncing rubber ball, sniffling, dogs licking things, and low-frequency vibrations from massage chairs, earthquakes, distant bass music, and some fluorescent lighting systems are impossible to ignore, which ranges from irritating to distressing, depending on my headspace du jour.

I hate bland food with a passion. It tends to make me nauseaus. I like lots of spice, lots of sugar, lots of sour and hot and acidic. I love strong flavours, and if I'm cooking for friends and family I often have to remind myself to tone down the seasonings for them.

Some textures make me genuinely ill, too- most types of meat, fat, and other animal bits result in.... Bad times for all. Polyester towels suck ass. Microfiber cloth. Thick cotton knit material. Any fabric covering my forearms. Thin, elastic denim. Vinyl. Polar fleece.

On the flip side, I looooove woven cotton blankets. Cotton sheets, cotton bedding- cold, heavy duvets are good, too. Acrylic, so long as it doesn't get damp. I have.... Perhaps a little bit of a problem here, as I do... Maybe, possibly, get a little impulsive with buying rugs, throws, and blankets when I come across one that feels right.

All my cups and bowls are handmade out of clay. I'm OK with smooth ceramics, but stoneware feels happy in my hands. I think of it as a treat, like packing a bit of chocolate with my lunch, or eating a whole bag of popcorn by myself. Again, I.... May go a little overboard when I come across A nice-feeling piece of dishware.

Basically, from what I understand, a lot of folks on the spectrum are under and over stimulated by various sensory inputs.

Me, I gravitate towards taste, inertia, tactile sensation, temperature, and dark lighting, while I find myself avoiding, limiting, or minimizing sound, light, color, oral texture, and smell.

As for more stereotyped behaviors, I find organizing things such as legal documents, filing cabinets, paint swatches, hardware, coins, stones, or colors to be very soothing and almost meditative. I go through special interests fairly often, and have been 'into' things like animals, insects, natural history, and art since before I could walk. I can't explain why they're such alluring subjects, they just make me happy.

I didn't realize until recently that I do stim, as well- I rock, sway, growl, swish water around, hang upside-down, rotate my thumbs, rub fabric, twirl coins, and flex my hands. I also (rarely) seem compelled to jump up and down in circles very fast when I'm particularly excited, or flap my arms against my sides like a penguin.

When I'm overstimulated, I go.... I'm not sure if you could call it 'nonverbal'. I get the feeling I COULD speak, it's just.... Overwhelmingly difficult. Usually I find a dark space or a corner away from people, put a coat or something over my head, cover my ears, close my eyes... Sometimes deliberate eye contact is hard, or I can't say more than one or two words at a time, or I find myself relying more on a hum or a grunt to communicate that I'm listening.

It... Probably all sounds weird to a neurotypical who may be reading, but I'm perfectly happy with myself as I am. I wouldn't change it if I could, except perhaps to minimize some of the more irritating things.

Mostly, my biggest peeve is being treated like a cool new pet or accessory. "Oh, this is my person with Autism- they're great at cleaning, you should get one!"- yeah, that can fuck right off. I'm right here, I can hear you, I'm a person. A little respect goes a long way.

But, whoops, here I've gone on a ramble- you want the best advice I have, though? Become comfortable with the person you are. Accept and seek out what things bring you happiness. Don't get hung up on the negatives. Love your experience, if you can, and don't worry about validating anything- you are who you are, and the words we use to explain ourselves fall so, so short when faced with the complexity of our individual existence.

The way I see it, the day before your diagnosis is the same as today, you just have one more tool to understand yourself with. The decision of how and if you choose to explain this to those around you is entirely yours to decide! 

I know this kind of went off the rail of your question. My answers are a little limited. I hope I could help anyways! Good luck!!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)

A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.

Word Count: 4K

Summary: When the Emperor’s behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. You’re tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?

Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldn’t resist.

“Come here Sonya! Come here!” Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.

The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.

Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.

“Sonya! Sonya come!” she gestured.

With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.

“Oooo, good girl! Good girl!”

You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherine’s last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.

The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didn’t dare say a word to you. And you didn’t say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.

Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of it’s taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.

“Can she do tricks?” she questioned.

“Almost. She’s getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but she’s better at being obedient.”

“And she doesn’t tear things up?” she asked.

“Only sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,” you answered.

“Ah! She’s such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!”

Georgiana’s eyes went dark.

“Will you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!”

“I’d be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!” you added on.

“Oh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?”

“Well, we read. And we chat…”

“But all that reading!? Isn’t it time consuming!”

“A little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and over…but in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.”

“If you have any gossip about her, please share!”

“I..I, uh, will!” you promise.

“First of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, it’s coming up in about a month!”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” you mumbled.

At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.

“Oh, Y/N…where is Y/N?” he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.

She pointed in your direction and he smiled.

As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.

“Hello, Grigor…” she said with a faded grin.

“Hello, George,” he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.

“How is the party?” he asked, hands placed behind the back.

“Going perfect. We’re being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.” She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.

You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of “…quite bitchy…” It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.

Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.

“George. I can’t control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.”

Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.

“You’re an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. She’s a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.”

Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.

“I didn’t marry her because of you. And she didn’t marry me so she could have my cock when you couldn’t. I did this so that we all- we all-“ he gestured to the people in the room “won’t be fucking ripped apart by Swede’s in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when you’re asleep in the emperor’s bed. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.”

She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.

Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I…I am…” you answered. “But I’m tired, let’s go home and play cards.”

“I agree.”

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

 A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.

Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didn’t walk at her certain time.

“Here you go, I know, Papa can’t be there-but I will,” you assured the dog.

You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.

Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonya’s prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.

Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.

“What is it? Some sort of creature!” you thought, walking forward.

It wasn’t a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.

“G..Georgiana…��

She turned her head to you, squinting.

“Yes…” she grunted.

“What are you doing here?”

She began to laugh a little, bitterly.

“I could ask the same…what are you doing here?”

“I’m walking Sonya…she needs to be exercised so she won’t get into trouble from being bored,” you explained, gripping the leash.

“Huh, I know sometimes…sometimes Grigor goes with you…” her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.

She seemed so pitiful you didn’t have the heart to chafe her.

“Yes, yes he does…”

Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.

“Sometimes we’d walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you know…I even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bed…he…he cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasn’t next to him and now…now he hates me…”

She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.

“No. No, I don’t think he hates you at all…”

“Why did he speak to me that way?”

“He just…he got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. He’s every bit as sad as you are for not marrying…”

Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out  a smile.

“But the truth is…in this court, there’s plenty of women who’ve fucked Peter. More than half. That’s just a fact of life. But I… I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?”

“It’s normal,” you admitted. “it’s normal to want to be loved.”

“And the things it gives you. It’s not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man who’s skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. That’s the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I do…”

She finally fell down into sobs.

“And he just...he couldn’t accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I… I love him, I still do, he just couldn’t accept me as I am and this world as it is…I thought he knew me…and that I knew him…”

She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dog’s tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.

“Georgiana…I’m so sorry I yelled at you that first day…I saw you as a threat and didn’t stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoes…”

“Ugh, you’re…you’re as saccharine as…as…I don’t even know, Y/N. I’d put you in my…my mouth and my blood would rush, and they’d have to let it out with slugs.”

Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.

“I’m not the one in tears…but…he used to keep a portrait of you…” you questioned.

“He did…is it there? Maybe….”

“Not anymore…” you explained flatly.

So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.

“I know you really do love Grigor. And you care for him…but loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come here…sometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on from…” you assured her. You aren’t a bad person for wanting those things. You’re a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.”

“I just keep wondering…I keep wondering what would happen if he said yes…if he agreed to the terms…we’d be so happy…”

And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.

You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.

“But there’s no use in that. Here, let’s get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel better…”

“But Y/N, Grigor I think…he’s in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks you…he picks you. And, well, there’s nothing you can do about it…”

Your stomach lurched.

    “Grigor might want a faithful wife. He might’ve thought he got that with you but…defying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, he’s a genius at fucking so it could be worse…”

“You need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then you’ll feel better…” you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.

 But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empresses’s private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.

“Orlo! How are you?”

“Y/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?” he asked excitedly.

His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.

“I was…I was shocked at first. His ideas felt like…like a blast of cold wind. But I…he made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some time…” you explained with a shrug.

“He’s one of my favorites, and tehre’s so much…so much inside there. But I…I wish I could explain it all…”

“Let’s go to my place, I’ll call for a plate...” you offered with a shrug and a smile.

Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.

Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with  a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.

“But out of all of them, I think my favorite is…”

The door creaked as it opened.

His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.

“Hello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?” he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.

“I, uh…” he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.

Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.

“The empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing more…” you explained plainly.

“It’s fascinating. Isn’t it!” you added, throwing back a look.

Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.

“Very.”

“Oh, alright…” Grigor replied quietly.

Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigor’s eyes never left his steps.

 He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonya’s begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.

You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.

With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.

“What is it?” You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong” he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.

“What is it…tell me…” you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.

He turned around.

“I understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes… but I know you didn’t choose to marry me…if you…if you…are in love… then I guess it would make it easier…but you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!”

“In love? With Orlo?!” you added.

His head snapped back at the sound of his name.

“If you love the prick, then that’s fine! It will make you bear being here better- it’s all fine!” He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to me…”

“I’m not in love with Orlo!” you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didn’t turn away.

“What…you aren’t? Both of you always talk together.”

 “I always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. They’re my friends. He’s my friend as well… and…I…I promised you I won’t hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt you…and you’re obviously hurt…” you reasoned.

The clock chimed the hour in the back.

“I…yes, I was…I had memories of when…you know…” he muttered out, looking down.

You folded your arms and turned away from him.

“Well, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like I’m apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?”

“Uh-no! Not at all! We’ve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!” he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.

You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.

“If I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!” you reasoned with a shrug.

Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.

 Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.

“Just dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.” You assured.

Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.

“Ah, hello! Join me!” Peter cheered. “Grigor-make yourself at home! There’s already some food.

You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.

“Here, Y/N…here’s the seat for you!” your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.

Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigor’s arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.

“I tell you- fucked a horse! It’s just a rumor-but can you believe it!” he said.

Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting “no, I don’t!”

Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.

“And that’s what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-“Oh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?”

The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.

“Your highness, of yes, of course we’ve fucked. Several times!” you said.

Where he couldn’t see, you kicked Grigor’s leg to alert him.

“Oh, really!” he said.

“Ah! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! But…”

You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.

“I have an eternally dry pussy, can’t suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so it’s been rather disappointing. It’s a miracle my husband tolerates me. He’s hardly been able to finish the job!”

He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed “play along.” His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.

“Yes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? They’re boring, plain people even when fucking.”

Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.

“Humph. I…I think you’re right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.”

You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.

“Please pour me another drink…” you said, holding your cup to a serf.

“Besdies, Catherine…she’s been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and I…I cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!”

 As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.

“That was brilliant!” He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.

“I knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you don’t have to worry about anything…at least for now…” you said with a shrug.

“Oh, but the party tomorrow…you’ll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he might…get carried away…”

“Just give him a galloon a vodka then, he’ll won’t be able to stand.”

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

As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing them…and supper would be served in an hour.

You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.”

“Come on, you sad bastards!? Why aren’t you dancing!? Dance! I command you!” Peter cried out in joy.

“Y/N! Y/N- we haven’t danced too much-let’s dance! Dance with me!” Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.

“Grigor, that’s the vodka talking!”

The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.

“I…I don’t know the…” you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.

“Oh no-just follow me!” He said with a big smile and his face flushed.

  Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.

“Girgor…do the trick! The trick!” Peter insisted, running up in the middle.

Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.

“Here. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.

He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.

“We need smof practif…”

But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even George’s own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.

He set you down.

“Let’s try it again, put your leg on my shoulder…now your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!”

He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.

“Ha! I knew you could do it good chap!” Peter applauded before asking.

Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.

 He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.

“Grigor…be careful…”

Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.

“Let’s get your clothes off…” you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.

“You wish to see me naked, you could’ve asked, darling…”

Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.

“If you don’t bathe, then you’re sleeping with Sonya…”

He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.

“Oh….hello doggie, cute doggie…good doggie…”

“To bath, Grigor!”

Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didn’t reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.

“None of that tonight with you drunk off your head!”

“Can’t I at least kiss you?” he complained childishly.

“Fine, but it stops at kissing!”

Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when  you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.

“Y/N, I love you….”

You froze solid, your stomach dropping.

“What?”

He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.

“Y/N, my sweet angel…I love you…”

Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.

“That’s the vodka talking, now go to sleep….”

He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m falling in love with you this minute and…I’m fucking terrified…”

You let his arms settle.

“Don’t wanna…get hurt, get shat on…but every day I’m….falling more in love with you…and it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking scream…that was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god…”

“Grigor…you need to sleep. You’re drunk. Only time will wear it off.”

Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.

‘I can’t believe I’m fucking falling in fucking love all over again…never thought after George that I would….never would let myself…thought ”

“But Grigor…you….”

“I’d like to see you…see you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.”

You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Grigor…do you…do you love me….do you really love me…”

You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you too…” you wanted to say.

taglist:  @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joesleee   @grigorlee@itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @rhapsodyrecs @sebastiistan​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @gwiilymslee @isitstraightvodka​ @cherry--coke​

[nctzendreamz]

off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

[ruensroad]

o(≧∇≦o)

another sleep deprivation prompt!!! for rencheng!!! "What? Sorry, I'm having trouble focusing..."

Thank you! sorry for the delay, life got a little crazy!

From this prompt list and from this RenCheng AU :)

He could still hear her laughter, some days. Everytime he sat too straight, poured his tea too perfectly, she was there to chide him in his mind. Lan-xiong, so strict! Lan-xiong, so perfect!

While he could say with true honesty that he hadn’t fallen in love with Cangse Sanren the same way Jiang Fengmian had, a part of his heart still fully belonged to her. Which wasn’t too uncommon. Despite her carefree, chaotic nature, she had been beautiful and bright, and nearly everyone that she’d met had fallen in love with her to some degree - a sentiment that, no doubt, would have amused her greatly.

There had been a time that she’d been the bane of his existence. She was everything he wasn’t, everything he’d been taught was incorrect. She was wild and mischievous, unafraid to speak her mind. She laughed often and loudly and started duels because she could. Knowing now that feelings had formed for her explained some of his early reactions, his quick anger and frustration. 

She always had left him flustered, not only with her forwardness, but also her depth of kindness and understanding. Even when he had nearly gotten her and Jiang Fengmian killed, she had forgiven him. And sure, it had resulted in the loss of his goatee, but their friendship had been strong and forthright forever on, and even now touched his heart in ways not much did.

He felt, most days, like his heart was a house built of different rooms. One room was for his nephews, large and important. One was for his friends and family, whom he guarded like treasure. One was for Cangse Sanren and all other friends he had lost along the way. And one for-

“Shufu?” Lan Xichen asked, and by his tone he had been saying it for a little while. Lan Qiren blinked out of his stupor and realized he’d been stroking his beard, giving the illusion of deep thought. Judging by the concern on his nephew’s face, he must be quite the sight, frowning and thinking in his sleep clothes. He’d just awoken from his rest and lost himself to thoughts, which he never did. No doubt, Lan Xichen was ready to call for Wangji at the first sign of illness in a panic.

The thought made him smile, which probably helped nothing. “Forgive me, Xichen,” he murmured, trying to find some of that containment he was so known for. But he was soft today, lost in memories of a golden time. For they truly were tinted gold, those days where he and Jiang Fengmian had been pulled by their sashes after a laughing Cangse Sanren, who promised adventure and no end of trouble. “I did not hear you.”

Every memory he had in each locked room of his heart was colored differently. For his nephews, it was a somber, beautiful blue, and sometimes he could almost imagine the world actually tinted so when he was with them.

“I simply remarked on how long you slept, shufu,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that let Lan Qiren know he’d worried him. “And that I hope you are feeling better.”

Lan Xichen was kinder than the world deserved. Lan Qiren, soft as he was, took in the beloved planes of his face with pride before his eyes flickered down the root of the issue: an untouched cup of tea. Ah, no wonder. 

He took the tea and warmed it back up with a wash of qi, sipping it gratefully. Lan Xichen’s smile warmed in relief to see it.

“I am rested,” Lan Qiren promised and set the cup neatly back down, which only made Lan Xichen calm down further. It was always in his habits, he’d found, that Lan Xichen paid the most attention to. As did Wangji, and he smiled to himself at memories of a frowning, silent child worriedly pulling on his sleeve because he had not finished his tea. He would make sure to finish this cup for both their sakes, no matter how he truly felt. “Just in my thoughts this morning.”

Lan Xichen nodded and sipped his own tea, the movement graceful and perfect. He looked so much like his mother that the room in his heart where he’d secretly locked Madam Lan away ached. That room was coated in roses and black thorns, and he pushed her memories from the fore of his mind, but it was a little too late. He was already bared open, so the next words hit him like barbs, a thousand arrows to yet another room of his heart, colored in purple and echoing with distant thunder..

“Sect Leader Jiang has been asking about you,” Lan Xichen said and there was a tiny laugh in the words. “As has Young Master Jin. I haven not seen you play with anyone since Wangji, shufu.”

“He is a child, Xichen,” Lan Qiren defended easily, “and his uncle was sick. A simple decision to keep him calm.”

Nevermind that there were nannies here, and other children. It would have been just as simple to hand Jin Ling into the care of one of them and let him play away his worry with A-Yuan and A-Yi, and other boys and girls his own age. But that stubborn room in his heart had not let him, for it was beginning to sprout with golden peonies too, and already he could hear Cangse Sanren’s laughter.

Lan-xiong, so fearsome! If you scowl like that, no one will marry you!

His ears went hot and he sipped his tea to stave off any teasing. Blessedly, Lan Xichen took the hint.

“Of course,” he agreed, because he was a better nephew than Lan Qiren deserved, but his eyes were still going over Lan Qiren quizzically, a look he knew far too well. It was the same face he wore when he puzzled through a game of chess, or a painting, or a new piece of music, an inevitability that it would be solved.

Lan Qiren, for once, didn’t know what to say to dissuade him. Thankfully, a knock sounded before he could try and a young disciple bowed from the door. 

“Old Master Lan, Sect Leader Jiang and Young Master Jin are here to see you.”

He wanted to laugh, almost, because of course Jiang Cheng had wasted no time. A storm opened in that heart room, fluttering with lotus and peony petals, and he realized he was stroking his beard again. It went unnoticed by Lan Xichen this time, given he was politely excusing everyone away, and Lan Qiren could hear her laughing again, goading him on.

Lan-xiong, be brave!

“No,” he said over Lan Xichen and looked up at the disciple. “Let them in.”

“Shufu, you’re not dressed,” Lan Xichen argued immediately, the surprise on his face making his eyes wide and his voice a little high. 

“I am aware,” Lan Qiren said evenly and took a sip of tea just so he could set the cup down in a more final motion. “Leave us please, Xichen. Sect Leader Jiang and I have something to discuss.”

“Of… course, shufu,” Lan Xichen said, and his confusion made him look like a lost little boy. Lan Qiren ached immediately to pull him into his arms and guard him from the world, but the moment was gone quickly and Lan Xichen slipped past the door. 

The very air seemed to crackle with lightning as Jiang Cheng stepped inside, and even with a five year old on his hip, he looked imposing and handsome and all of Lan Qiren’s world tinted to a stormy purple.

“Old Master,” was his greeting, voice low and rough, but full of confidence, if only for the moment. 

“Sect leader,” Lan Qiren gave back, like he wasn’t in sleep clothes with his hair down, like this was just any other meeting between them and not the most important talk of his life. “Young Master Jin.”

“Old teacher!” Jin Ling wiggled to be put down and Jiang Cheng obliged him. The boy hurried over to Lan Qiren with what looked like a mess of paper in his hands, but was actually a folded paper dog that he handed over with happiness. “Are you feeling better? I made this for you. Jiu-jiu showed me how to do the folds!”

The offering was simple, but made him ache. He nodded seriously and took the little dog, setting it on the desk. “I am well, Young Master,” he promised and got a luminous smile for his words. “Thank you.”

“A-Ling, go play with your boat. Old Master Lan and I need to have a talk,” Jiang Cheng said, pulling the wooden toy from his sleeve. Jin Ling grinned and took it, then retreated to a spot near the go board. He might as well not have been there at all with how intensely Jiang Cheng was staring him down and it took all of Lan Qiren’s will not to shake as he poured the man a cup of tea.

It was silent and heavy as Jiang Cheng folded himself into the place Lan Xichen had been, and Lan Qiren felt his mind flicker back to golden days, even as his eyes were entranced by the vision of violet and silver before him. 

Cangse Sanren was as close to a first love as he’d ever gotten, and she had been his opposite in every way. Jiang Cheng, the one whose room in his heart knocked the loudest, was more like himself, strict and perfunct, bitter of the world and tethered only by the love of a nephew. He was a study of what was proper and expected of any sect leader, warrior, and ally. He was fierce and stalwart, a wall all bad things had to break down before anyone else was hurt.

Lan Qiren had been in awe of him a long time and let it show in his eyes as he set down the cup. He knew Jiang cheng expected words, expected an explanation, but like Jiang Cheng himself, he was not a man made of them. The only words he knew were rules, which were armor and guidance. But words from the heart? He might as well have been an illiterate fool.

The only consolation was that Jiang Cheng seemed to be having as much trouble as he. As the silence stretched on, he watched the irritation and embarrassment only grow as they both tried and failed to speak. Finally, Jiang Cheng simply swore under his breath, and though it broke a rule, it lit a fire in that room Jiang Cheng owned in his heart and made him laugh.

Like ice breaking, Jiang Cheng huffed a brief chuckle to join him and his shoulders slumped. “This is stupid,” he said, and Lan Qiren had to agree. “We talk all the time. We should be able to do this.”

Lan Qiren nodded and stroked his beard, a movement Jiang Cheng watched with dark eyes. “I do not speak plainly of what is in my heart, Sect Leader,” Lan Qiren said, and it was the bravest he’d ever been. The heat in his ears trickled down into his neck, plain for the man to see.

“Your heart?” Jiang Cheng echoed, incredulous, and he too looked like a lost child, hopeful and aching for things that were always ripped away. Lan Qiren felt the same instinct to hold him and guard him from the world he felt with his nephews. “That would imply that I am in your heart, Old Master.”

It was a challenge, and a plea. Lan Qiren looked down at his cup of tea and saw his own smile. “You are.”

Simple, could it really be that simple? He met Jiang Cheng’s eye and waited, watched a valiant struggle flicker in those eyes and over his expression. It settled on more of a scowl, in the end, but that was just armor too.

“You… too,” Jiang Cheng swallowed, fought the words out with all the same intensity he gave in every battle fought before, steadfast, yet ready to be struck down at any moment. “For me it’s the same.”

Jiang Cheng went tense afterwards, as though just hearing the words would make Lan Qiren reconsider. He was tempted, in truth, if only because it was so unusual, and that he did not wish for Jiang Cheng to be trapped by someone just like him, but even more unbending. Surely, Jiang Cheng deserved more? Surely this miracle was not meant to last?

Lan-xiong…

He closed his eyes and breathed, then took a sip of tea to settle his nerves. There were so many things he wished to say, but didn’t know how to. He had never been gifted in that way as Cangse Sanren had been. But then, neither was Jiang Cheng, and in that he found his answer.

Love through action, his only method. He prayed it would be enough.

“I expect a proper courtship,” he said sternly. “There are rules for this kind of thing and expect you to heed them all.”

Internally, he winced, because why did he sound like a chiding teacher? But for some reason, it seemed to settle well, and Jiang Cheng sat all the straighter, with an ease that had not been there before, and nodded once.

“So I will,” he promised and that part of Lan Qiren’s heart was utterly lost.

[daisybeewrites]

The Best Medecine

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluffflufffluff

requested? no i just needed to see daisy take care of daniel

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

PART 2!! idr have an authors note today, just enjoy :)

(gif not mine)

Daniel felt like crap. 

He had caught Daisy’s cold, and the effects were hitting him harder than a ton of bricks. 

Daisy had recovered fairly quickly after he smoothly convinced her to take the proper medicine and rest. They had a great few days where both of them felt alive and normal, not like zombie versions of themselves. Going grocery shopping (avoiding the soup aisle, they already had a freezer full), taking a day trip to hike the Eaton Canyon trail and picnic, testing out a new prosthetic Fitz designed, and pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch Grey’s Anatomy completed the week wonderfully.

Things were going great! Almost too great. Things never go this great in their universe. Which is why neither of them were surprised when Daniel shot up in bed at 4am sneezing, waking Daisy and, she joked, the rest of the street. He tried to go back to sleep, only to wake up with a loud achoo! ten minutes later. Daniel rubbed his forehead, the pressure centered between his eyebrows insisting that he was not going to get any sort of true rest that day. 

He told a sleepy Daisy that he felt fine, that he just needed a hot bath. It was probably just the spring allergies, right? Nothing to worry about, Daniel told himself as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, grabbing his crutches and lumbering to the bathroom. He splashed his face with warm then cold water before quickly checking that Daisy was asleep again, her silhouette rising with deep breaths, outlined in diffused blue light from the stars on the ceiling. Maybe he could shake this before it got too bad? Surely, it wouldn’t disrupt his routine too much?

Daniel quietly crutched to the soft couch, grabbing a blanket from the pile on the armchair. The flannel of the blankets and the comfortable give of the couch lulled Daniel into a restless sleep. 

Early morning turned to late morning turned to afternoon, Daniel only waking up from tossing and turning when Daisy shook him and offered a sinus pill, which he gulped down with an entire cup of cool water. Three ice cubes shaped like half moons knocked into each other as he tipped the cup back, letting the smooth liquid drown out the scratchiness in his throat.

A glance at the clock alarmed him, mentally calculating how long he slept. He noticed the second quilt that had been laid on top of him, the fleecy textile one Daisy frequently curled up with when she had a bad day. He could faintly smell her coconut and lavender conditioner. It tickled his nose.

“Sweetheart?” Daniel called weakly.

“Mmm?” Daisy hummed.

“I slept for fourteen hours?” Though he asked a question, his tone was almost a statement.

Daisy nodded, slightly smiling. “I think you caught my cold. Maybe cuddling so much wasn’t a good idea.”

Daniel chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw the flicker of worry in her eyes. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t regret any time spent helping you feel better, Daisy.”

She smiled, mirroring his expression. Their eyes both crinkled at the sides, happy gazes taking in the other. Daisy’s eyes still furrowed though, and Daniel cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the frog there before speaking. The action only scratched his throat, a string of coughs interrupting the couple’s staring contest. 

“Hey, could you bring me som—” Daniel was cut off by more crackling coughs. Daisy threw him a concerned glance. He could hardly keep his eyes open, hands clammy and forehead burning, body shaking with hacks. He could feel the dip in the cushion as Daisy moved to sit down beside him, resting her hand on his forehead. Her cool skin felt incredible on his. He understood why she liked it so much when he had done the same. 

He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the dry, itchy feeling and opting to focus on Daisy above him. She looked beautiful, like an angel, with airy morning light surrounding her and two messy braids running down her back. She was his angel. His angel was smirking at the way he leaned into her touch. 

“These?” she asked, as she held up a small, blue box of tissues. He nodded, swallowing thickly before sitting up and scooting back to lean against the rounded arm of the tan couch. Daisy laughed quietly. 

“What?”

She continued giggling, her small laugh growing a little.

“What’s funny?”

Daisy leaned forward and rested a hand on his thigh for balance. 

“You’re wearing those pajama pants I got you for Christmas,” she explained. He glanced down, recognizing the tiny planets of their solar system dyed into the plush fabric. “They’re cute on you.”

He smiled, gazing at Daisy. Then he sneezed. Luckily, he picked up a tissue and covered his face in time to not sneeze in Daisy’s face. Daisy leaned back, laughing. Daniel started to, too, a low rumble in his chest diffusing the nerves he had felt. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen him sick. There was that one time in space when he had almost gotten (unintentionally) poisoned by alien coffee, but that was an unpleasant memory he didn’t want to dwell on. Other than that, not a single sniffle had popped up. 

Daisy suddenly stood up and slid to the kitchen in sock feet, a large grin on her face.

“Dais, where’re you going?” he wondered out loud. 

“The kitchen, duh,” she replied as she slid to the soapstone countertops, grabbing a red and white box out of the counter. 

Daniel recognized it as Daisy’s favourite tea, she had bought it on a mission in South Africa and became enamoured with it. Sometimes Daniel would catch her up at odd hours of the night, when she couldn’t sleep, out on the back patio drinking a steaming mug of Rooibos. He knew it was her favourite, and it had slowly become his, too. Lately, they have made a habit out of winding down from long days at work with mugs in their hands, on the couch or in the backyard, red-amber liquid relaxing their minds and limbs. Those were some of his favourite times with Daisy, spent talking and drinking their tea and laughing at reruns of sitcoms.

The sound of hot water trickling into a mug pulled him out of his thoughts. The mug in question was one he had made for Daisy—large and hand painted, artsy flicks of white and yellow and blue serving as reminders of their time in space. That was a modern invention he was particularly fond of (paint your own pottery, not space). It was mesmerizing to watch the colored, chalky paint glide onto the ceramic surface. He often went to this local hole-in-the-wall café that let you paint one of their mugs and bring it home, for an extra charge. Their coffee and ‘old-fashioned southern’ biscuits were delicious.

Daniel stared as Daisy danced around the kitchen, her fishtails swishing and hips swaying. There was no music, just her. She dunked the tea bag in a couple times and let it steep. When the tea was ready, she poured in a squeeze of honey and grabbed a shiny green bottle of cough syrup, carefully walking over to the couch. Daniel gently took the mug from her, using the corner of the blanket as a barrier so as not to burn his hands. Daisy sat on the coffee table across from him, smiling as Daniel took a sip. 

“Hot!” he exclaimed.

“I know I am, you don’t have to tell me,” Daisy teased. “Do you want some ice cubes?”

“Jemma would disapprove,” Daniel shot back.

Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jemma has put up with my odd tea-drinking since 2013. I already made the tea wrong, might as well make it so that you won’t burn yourself trying to drink it.” 

Daniel watched Daisy laugh. As ill as he felt, Daisy just being there helped tremendously. The tea soothed his scratchy throat and her laugh sped up his heart. He knew the pink dust on his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to fever alone. 

The pair sat in silence for a while as Daniel finished the tea, thankful for the warm beverage. His headache was slightly dissipating, due to the tea or Daisy’s light aura he wasn’t sure. He sat the mug down on the table and leaned up to peck Daisy’s lips. She leaned in a bit putting her hand on his chest to pull away.

“How about that bath?”

“Only if you come, too,” Daniel whispered.

Daisy chuckled. “You, lover boy, are sick. If we keep this up, one of us is always going to be sick. And plus, I need you distracted while I make a surprise!”

Daniel perked up, his slight pout disappearing. “A surprise…?”

“Yes, Danny-boy, a surprise. Which means I can’t tell you, so sit here and I’ll go fill the tub and then you can feel the full effects of that chill pill.”

Daniel leaned towards Daisy, confused. “What chill pill?”

“This chill pill,” Daisy said, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his. Daniel’s head swam with the scent of her silky blonde hair and vanilla lotion. She gently rubbed her hands up and down his arms and over his shoulders. He took a moment to watch the twinkle in her eye, the warmth resonating through him. He felt the tension from staying on the couch all day slowly release, his arms coming to wrap loosely around Daisy’s back in an attempt to keep her there. She shook her head with a grin and sat up, easing off the couch.

Daisy kissed Daniel’s forehead before walking down the hall to the bathroom. Daniel watched her leave, conflicted. Shouldn’t he be able to take care of himself? He had for years, why stop now? It isn’t like he couldn’t fill up the tub, or cook or grab tissues, no matter how light headed he got. Why did she want to help him? ‘Because I love you, you stubborn square!’ Daisy would say. He could practically hear her protest, ‘Just let me take care of you! It won’t hurt!’

 If he was honest with himself, that’s all he wanted. 

So, he did.

Daisy came back into the living room, the faint sound of water rushing creating a comforting ambience. He didn’t have his leg on, as laying around all day didn’t require it and he was more comfortable without the prosthetic cramming against the back of the couch. He reached back and grabbed the pair of crutches that were leaned against the arm of the sofa. Daisy walked with him back to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t lose his balance due to dizziness from dehydration. Apparently, that was one reason Daisy had felt so horrible after her mission, she had been so busy taking down bad guys that she almost took herself down, too. Even knowing that dehydration isn’t contagious, neither of them wanted him falling into décor à la Daisy. 

They reached the bathroom, Daisy running to their room to grab an extra set of sweats for Daniel to put on once he was done. 

While she was rummaging through drawers, Daniel carefully undressed and got into the deep tub.

The bath felt incredible. He could smell the lavender from the fancy epsom salt that Daisy had gotten him wafting up from small waves he created. The water was warm, but not so hot that it burned and not so lukewarm that it would go cold in a few minutes. 

“Dais, this is first-class,” Daniel called. 

Daisy giggled a bit before responding. “First-class?”

“I know you’re poking fun, but thank you. It feels amazing.”

Daisy peeked her head around the corner, nodding. 

“I'm glad you like it. Now I'm gonna go fix that surprise. Yell if you need anything, k?”

Daniel nodded and relaxed his head back, muscles slowly easing their tension and his eyes softly closing. 

“Oh, shit!!”

Daniel startled, bath water dripping over onto the towels lining the tub. Daisy’s exclamation didn’t seem pained, but he couldn’t help his brow from creasing. He felt fairly rested, he wasn’t sure how long he had been napping in the water. It had gone from pleasantly warm to tepid, he guessed around thirty minutes at the most. 

“Dais, everything alright?”

Daisy paused before responding, “Yep! Got it all under control!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head, figuring it was probably time to get out and troop back to the living room, anyway.

He grabbed the grip-bar beside the tub and eased up, sitting on the edge before swinging his good leg around and stepping onto the floor. He grabbed a towel off his hook on the wall and started to dry off. Daisy had set a pair of comfy pants and a shirt on the counter, which he pulled on before grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen. Something smelled… burnt. 

He rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks. 

“Uh, Dais?”

“It’s burned, I know,” Daisy said, disconcertedly.

“Are you okay?”

Daisy was staring disappointedly at two bowls of seemingly okay soup. She gestured loosely to the sink, Daniel’s eye following. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I see.”

There was a large pot sitting in the sink, filled with greyish water, black bits glued to the bottom. 

“I’m sorry. I know cooking isn’t exactly my thing.”

Sousa smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. Daisy’s hands fidgeted, rubbing at her neck.

“Is the soup in the bowls good?”

Daisy looked him up and down, a twinkle of mirth in her eye, like she knew something he didn’t. She shrugged, “The char adds flavour.”

At that, Daniel grinned and stepped forward a little, leaning against the counter next to her. “I’m up for some extra flavour.”

Daisy looked over at him with an odd expression. “Even sick, never fails.”

Daniel responded immediately, “Through sickness and health.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide. 

“Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Daisy’s posture slumped a little as she hit his bicep. “Funny. You’re a funny, funny man.”

He nodded and felt a deep laugh in his chest. “I am very funny, yes.”

Daisy squinted her eyes at him, turning and picking up their bowls of soup to set on the kitchen island. She slid onto one of the backless bar stools that served as seats for when she didn’t feel like being fancy and eating at a table. Sousa took a moment before following, leaning his crutches against the cabinet after sliding onto the stool across from Daisy. He picked up a spoon and tasted the soup, swallowing down a grimace and giving her a thumbs up. 

“It's great!” Daniel exclaimed.

Daisy pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, tasting a spoonful. She was not as great at acting as Daniel was, and could barely keep herself from spitting it out.

“Oh, god, that’s awful!” Despite her wry expression, she was giggling as she picked her cell out of her pajama short’s pocket. Daniel eyed her, perplexed as Daisy hit a button in her .

“Yes, hi... Thank you. Can we get six egg rolls, a small veggie fried rice, a plate of crab wontons, and a small shrimp lo-mein?... Yes! Thank you!... Alright, we’ll be there in ten. Have a good evening!” Daniel watched as Daisy hung up, a bright grin slowly spreading across her face.

Daniel mirrored her, smiling wide. “Chinese food?”

“Yep,” Daisy nodded, popping the 'p'. 

Daisy slid lithely off the seat, grabbing the bowls of blackened soup and trashing them. She felt bad, throwing away food. She never got rid of food unless she absolutely had to. Old habits die hard. 

She turned around and gave Daniel a smile. She noticed that he wasn’t as pale, his face wasn’t as flushed and he wasn’t swaying like his head was full of air. Maybe she had helped more than she thought. They walked out to Daisy’s car, a metallic dark grey crossover with slightly tinted windows. Daisy got in on the drivers side, Daniel climbing into the passenger. She cranked the car and turned up the radio, checking that Daniel was okay. It was a slightly chilly evening, and the windows were rolled down just enough to let the air in. 

The evening felt great, the cool air and orange-pink sky refreshing their senses. Daniel’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Daisy. Even though he caught her cold, he had the feeling that Daisy was the best medicine. Lucky him.

Maybe things do go this great in our universe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

awwwwwww, cuuuuuuute! as always, feel free to drop a request in my ask box (linked in the bio) or comment any thoughts!! thanks for reading!!

[avversiera-writes]

try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Then 

Summary: continuation of chapter 4, Tobirama finds out that your copulating sessions have been successful. 

Word Count: ~4k

A/N: welp, here we gooo. almost done tbh. if you prefer to read on ao3, then go ahead since most of the chapters have been posted there. 

available on AO3. 

Chapter 1 - Now | Chapter 2 - Then, part 1 | Chapter 2 - Then, part 2 | Chapter 3 - Now | Chapter 4 - Then | 

When Tobirama is determined, he is very tenacious. He does not let up until the results are up to his satisfaction. Which would probably explain why the moment he comes home, the two of you are rushing upstairs to make it to the bedroom to fuck and not on the stairs, or the hallways, or anywhere else where you could get caught in an embarrassing way. You’re probably already pregnant from the first time, but since there is no way of telling at the moment, Tobirama has taken it upon himself to make sure that the deed is done well and good. He comes home earlier than usual, despite the heavy work that has to be done for the peaceful treaty with Kumogakure, and then if he still has some work to do, he goes back to the office and leaves you satiated. 

 You can tell that Tobirama is excited, despite not showing it. When you tease him about it, he only says that it is part of his duty to bring a new generation of shinobis into the village, especially as the Hokage, but when you look away, you can feel his gaze on you and practically feel his wonder at the prospect of having children. Of course, the both of you have that duty to parent children, but you trust Tobirama to be a good father and a teacher, because he had a huge hand in fostering young children into good shinobis. 

You can tell that there is also a lot on his mind, and he seems to be a bit worried about how he will be as a father. It is on the way his brows knit whenever you mention the small things you want your children to experience or whenever you see something on the street, like a toy or a nursery crib for sale. 

 You cannot get anything out of him though, so you can only guess for now. 

Today is one of those slow days, so you take it upon yourself to look for Kimiko, so that the two of you can plan ahead for your pregnancy. You are still not sure what steps to take or whatever supplements you might have to take because you never bothered to take those things seriously. Now, you wish you had because you hate bothering people for help, even though it was offered to you. 

 You chuckle silently to yourself. You preach about things people ought to do, like asking for help, but sometimes you fail to do just that. However, this is something you are trying to change about yourself. You still have a lot of growing to do. 

You head to the kitchen, accidentally startling the servants that are there. 

 You smile at them kindly, and take your time to inquire about them. You share a few laughs, and then, you ask if there is something you can do to help out, hoping that there really is something, but they refuse your help and reassure you that they can take care of everything. Not being able to say anything else, you leave them be and you go on for your search for Kimiko. 

 Finally, you find her outside, hanging up bedsheets on the clothesline. 

 “Kimiko-san!” You call with relief. You jump over the steps leading to the ground and jog to her. 

Kimiko stares at you worriedly. “My lady, you must not hurry like that. You could get hurt.”

 You shrug, and you help her spread the next sheet over the clothesline. You give her a small smile. “My husband says the same thing.” 

 Kimiko chuckles as she places a pin over the blanket. “He is very protective of you.”

 “Too much, at times,” you giggle and you hand Kimiko another clothespin. 

“He means well,” Kimiko replies and the two of you finish the rest of the laundry in silence. 

After hanging all the laundry, Kimiko leads you towards the dining room and asks you to wait there. You look towards the wall, where you and the other servants have hung some tapestries that Tobirama had received as gifts for becoming the Hokage, and to the painting of a snow mountain range on the wall. The house is minimal and almost spartan, but it is comfortable and pleasing to look at. You want the decorations to be practical, and because at times you couldn’t make yourself care about such things, you decided to make do with the collections of arts that Tobirama and the other Senju clan members have curated and given to your household. 

 Some are kept in storage as you have no idea where to place them. There are rooms in the house that remain empty, but you know that your husband may need those spaces for his growing library and his multiple journals, or his unfinished inventions that may never see the light of the day and your combined weapons. 

 And the rest of the rooms upstairs can be the rooms for your future children. 

 You smile at the thought and tuck that inside your mind for later entertaining. 

You light the incense burner propped on a stand and then you go back to your seat, feeling a bit restless. You wish you could put your extra energy into training or being a shinobi, but those days are over. If you decide to defy your husband and continue to take missions, the people of Konoha may talk, and you do not want them to speak ill of your husband. They already concern themselves with your reproductive capabilities. They cannot be privy to any of your marital matters. 

You sigh tiredly, but Kimiko walks in and you immediately compose yourself and shoot her a smile. 

“Let’s begin!” You say excitedly. 

 Kimiko lays out several herbs and medicines on the table, some in vials or jars, and you are drawn to the colors, like a little kid. She sits down in front of you and gives you an amused smile and you give her your full attention, like you assume how good students do. 

“Do you know whether you’re pregnant yet?” Kimiko inquires. 

 You shrug, and give her a meek smile. “No. I am assuming that I will have to wait and see next month.” 

 Kimiko sits down in front of you, unsure of how to react. “Well, do you feel any different? Do you feel nauseous? More tired than usual? Light-headed?”

 “No,” you think back and reflect on this hectic month, but you come up with nothing. “I don’t have any problems with fertility, do I?” You feel some dread creeping up your throat. The thought of it almost brings tears to your eyes and you’re not much of a crier. 

 “No, my lady,” Kimiko immediately reassures. “Sometimes it takes a while. It’s different for women, not all experiences are the same across the board.” She smiles and reaches for your hand. “Besides, it’s a bit too early to tell. I was just asking because I don’t know how long you two have been, well, you know.”

You blush and stare at her, dumbfounded. “Oh.” 

 “Do not worry too much,” Kimiko squeezes your hand. “Besides, that is not good for you. You don’t want your body to be stressed.” 

You nod and then gesture at the small apothecary that she brought with her. “So where do we start?” 

 “Well, since you are not pregnant yet, we’re just going to make sure that you’re eating healthy and that you’re taking care of yourself,” Kimiko says. “You need to take some supplements, and I can prepare those with every meal you have.”

 “What kind?” 

 “Like, when you’re pregnant, sometimes a woman’s body will be depleted of iron, so you’ll have to take more of that. You’ll need to eat lots of vegetables too, to get your source of vitamins. Ginger tea as well.” 

 “For?”

 “Morning sickness, and the like.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you tell her, but you have already noted down the important details in your mind. “It sounds like a lot.”

 Kimiko nods. “You need not to worry, my lady. It will be part of your daily routine, and I will help you.” 

Kimiko begins to point out the herbs and the tea leaves, and some of the medicines that she brought with her, and you do your best to follow. You memorize the vials for treating certain symptoms that do not sound all good to you, and the jars with the ginger roots and the honey citrus tea, and other pleasant smelling green leaves that she presented. 

 Then, she tells you all about what to expect in the coming months. They do not sound delightful, especially when she tells you about the swollen legs and your muscles loosening and the gaining of weight or the crazy cravings, but then she tells you about what to look forward to, such as the first kick of your baby, and that you can even talk to them while inside your womb. 

“Do you have any questions?” Kimiko asks as she notices that you have grown quiet. 

 You shake your head. “No, not really. I’m just…”

 “Overwhelmed?” Kimiko supplies a gentle smile.

 You chuckle. “Yes. A little. I’m scared and excited.”

The doors of the dining room slides open, and they reveal your husband, dressed in his training clothes, the blue wrap-around shirt and trousers and his mesh under armour, and the green sash tied across his waist. Sweat covers his neck and his chest, and you observe his collarbones, finding yourself pressing your lips together. 

“Rough day?” You ask with a sly smile. 

 Kimiko clears her throat and she starts to gather the things from the table. The servants of the house are probably tired of the two of you flirting and fucking around. 

“Are those opiates?” Tobirama inquires, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He glances at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is she alright?” 

 Kimiko lets out a strained laugh, and you take note the way her voice changed. “Ah, my lord. Those are for pain-numbing concoctions. They can be used in small doses, and should your wife need it for the pain that comes with giving birth…”

 Tobirama nods. “I see.” His forehead wrinkles. “I need to talk to my wife.” 

You roll your eyes at Tobirama’s abruptness and you jump up to your feet. You quickly walk up to him and push him out of the dining room, and usher him towards the hallway that leads to upstairs. 

“You are so rude,” you scold playfully. You bump your shoulder against his arm. “I forgot to ask her how I can find out if I’m pregnant. I’m sure there's, like, some mystical way of doing it. Like tracing the stars on the skies, or like, a lunar eclipse.”

Tobirama crosses his arms and he rolls his eyes. “Just take some wheat or barley seeds and proceed to urinate on it. If it grows, then you are pregnant. If not, then, we’d have to keep trying.” 

 Your jaw drops open. The idea of it is embarrassing to even think about doing.

 Tobirama glances at you indifferently. “I have many nephews. The Senjus did this to confirm pregnancies. Barley for boys, wheat for girls.” 

 “You’re joking, right?” 

Tobirama raises his eyebrows and stares at you pointedly. You are not sure whether he is kidding or not, and it makes you a little peeved. 

“Why would I?” Tobirama asks in a tone that makes you think otherwise. 

 “The Senju and their plants,” you roll your eyes and let out a small sigh. 

Tobirama shrugs, and you press your hand against his chest, and you push him towards the wall. 

“What are you doing?” Tobirama suddenly looks alarmed. 

 “A service.”

 “I beg to differ,” Tobirama looks offended. A harsh, red blush begins to creep up his neck and his ears. 

You pull him against yourself using the sash around his waist. 

 “Our Hokage’s been hard at work,” you whisper on his lips. “It’s only right that I reward him for it.” 

 Tobirama leans his head  away, but there is nowhere for him to go. 

You stand on your tiptoes, and you lean forward to catch his lips. Tobirama stops, and when you pull away, he looks at you, bewildered and suddenly speechless. 

 “What?” You ask. “What were you thinking?” You give him a cheeky grin. 

Tobirama’s face pinks and his hands grasp the sides of your arms. “Nothing.” 

 “Hm-hm. That’s what I thought.” 

Tobirama’s jaw tenses, and you cannot help but smile wider. 

“You do this on purpose.” 

 “Whatever do you mean, Lord Nidaime?” You feign innocence. You lean closer to his face. “What did you want to talk with me about?” 

Tobirama stares at you, at a loss. 

 “I’m listening–”

Tobirama seals your lips with a kiss, so quick that it does not register to you that your back has hit your bed. The seal that Tobirama plasted on the bed recently does have its perks. 

“Let’s use that bratty mouth of yours to good use, shall we?” Tobirama growls into your ear, and your breath catches in your throat. 

 Tobirama slips two fingers into your mouth, the pads of his fingers brushing against the roof of your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and you begin to suck at it, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow with lust. 

 “Good girl,” he whispers. 

//

Sweaty and panting, you and your Senju husband lie side by side on the bed. Your body is still trembling from the ecstasy of being filled over and over again by Tobirama’s seed, and each touch and movement makes your shudder and moan. Tears stream down the side of your eyes, and you are sure that you have drooled yourself, but none of that registers yet. Your mind is still frayed, and you remember the sensation of Tobirama’s cock pulsating in your mouth, the way his aroused flesh just feels so rubbery and slick, and the way it throbbed and hardened inside you until he had emptied his load in you. 

 You touch your tongue to your lips, and you close your eyes, still seeing stars. 

You feel his rough hand on your waist, and you whimper, unable to bear any slight movement at the moment. Tobirama gathers you into his arms and you tense up. It takes a moment, but finally, you relax and melt into him. 

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Tobirama states. 

 “Hm,” you say, or what you think you have said. 

You share another moment of silence with each other, and you are content to listen to his racing heartbeat, which you have familiarized yourself with. You know every inflection and startle of his heart, and whether they mean he is calm or stressed. 

 Finally, your bones have settled into a pleasant feeling of fatigue, and you turn to your husband slightly. 

 “Something on your mind?” 

 Tobirama takes a minute to answer you. “Yes.”

 “What is it?” 

 “The peace negotiations with Kumo are successful. We will have the peace ceremony in six months.” 

 “That is good,” you comment, your eyes flitting close. 

 “I hope so,” Tobirama says. “I will have to go.” 

 “Do you want me to come with you?” 

 “No, I’d rather you stay here, knowing that you will be safe,” Tobirama answers. “Besides, if all things go well, you’ll be pregnant, and the trip to Kumo will not be suitable for your health.” 

“All right,” you acquiesce. 

 “That easy?” 

 “You know best.” 

 “I thought it’d be hard to convince you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Believe it or not, I actually do listen to you.” 

 Tobirama lets out a low, amused chuckle. “I see.”

 “You laughed,” you yawn. 

 “I beg to differ.” 

 “Chuckled,” you dreamily correct. “I’ll pull more laughs from you, Senju. Mark my words.”

Tobirama brushes your hair from your face and plants a kiss behind your ear. “I am counting on them.” 

//

A new month begins, and you anticipate for the week of your menstruation. You find yourself alone again, as these days Tobirama does not want you to concern yourself with any of his Hokage duties. He has been mostly focused with Kumogakure, and while you want to do everything in your power to help him, you know that this is something that he may have to do alone, as he is the best in delegating. Inserting yourself into his manifested but fragile chaos may not let him give his full attention to it. Besides, this is the first outside project that Tobirama has taken on as the Second Hokage. The best you can do for now is to support him. 

 In your alone time, you pick up on reading again, whether they are about parenthood that Tobirama brought into the house at one point, or books of poems and fiction that he had curated over the years. 

 And in that alone time, you ponder the idea of what Tobirama had told you a while ago. 

If it does not work, then I’ll have a good laugh, you tell yourself as you go into the kitchen. 

You rummage through the kitchen, being careful not to make any noise so that no one will come to hear your lame excuse of being here. Finally, you get your hands on wheat and barley seeds and a humongous amount of snacks because you are hungry and these snacks look delicious, and just thinking about how its flavors make you look forward to eating them. 

 You feel silly just holding on to these seeds, but you make it quick by stuffing a pot with soil, planting the seeds there and doing the rest in your bathroom. Then, you hide the pot in the inner garden downstairs, and you stay the rest of the day in your room, eating and studying. 

Time goes by so slowly when you are not doing much, and pretty soon, you find your eyes growing heavy, and before you know it, you are sleeping in the comfort of your bed. 

 When you open your eyes, it is nighttime, and your husband is peering at you with concern or maybe disapproval because you remember leaving some snacks on the bed. He touches your forehead and his cool palm makes you flip your eyes close. 

“The servants tell me you have not come down to eat lunch and dinner,” Tobirama states. “Are you unwell?” 

 You yawn and stretch, and you blink blearily at him. “No?” It takes a moment for his words to register. “Wait, I missed dinner?” 

 “It is almost midnight,” Tobirama replies. 

“Oh,” you deadpan. 

 Tobirama sighs. “Let’s get you something to eat.” 

 “Did you just come home now?” You ask as you follow him down to the dining room. 

“I got held up at work,” Tobirama replies vaguely. He makes sure that you are seated on the table and he disappears into the kitchen for a while. 

 When he arrives, he brings a whole entree of food with him: the rice, soup with vegetables and meat, steamed sweet potatoes, fish and a few side dishes to go with it. 

 Tobirama silently sets up your plate and utensils, and you thank him and begin to eat the rest of the food in silence. When the rice has run out, Tobirama stands up to get more without saying anything, only choosing to comment about making sure to slow down and chew through your food. You shrug at him, still hungry despite devouring the last of the sweet potatoes. 

Tobirama narrows his eyes, but he keeps mum for the rest of the night, and leaves you to your own thoughts. 

//

You peek from the threshold of Tobirama’s study. Your husband of almost three years is hard at work as always, with his jutsu inventing or just general Konoha policy work. You observe him for a moment, and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way his eyebrows knit together the deeper his concentration gets. His lips press together in a tight line, but you sense no bad tension from him. Right now, he is currently reading one of his notes–probably from one of his current experiments–and then transcribing it on another blank paper. 

 “Is there something I can help you with?” Tobirama finally asks and he puts down his pen. 

 You walk into his study and towards him. You gingerly take his face with both of your hands, and you study him. Your thumbs come up to caress his cheeks and then, you plant a soft kiss on his forehead. 

 “You look tired,” you comment. “You should get some sleep.” 

 “I need to finish this,” Tobirama replies, but whatever focus he has woven before you came, it is now gone and replaced by the tender attentiveness he offers to only you. 

 “Is it urgent?” You murmur. You bring a hand to his forehead and brush his hair up to reveal his pale forehead. “Can I help?” You kiss his forehead again, and then his lips. 

A smile flits through Tobirama’s face but it is gone before you can even process it. 

“It is urgent, but it requires about nine months of waiting,” Tobirama replies, and he places his hands on your waist. It seems like he is willing to be more affectionate these days. “Go rest.” 

You roll your eyes. “I have been resting a lot these days, Lord Nidaime. Why do you keep making me rest, hm? I’ve had ample rest time.” 

 Tobirama looks down at your stomach, and then at you. He does not speak, and he squeezes one side of your waist reassuringly. His face softens as an affirmation takes place on his face. 

“Do you know why?” Tobirama murmurs. 

 “No,” you start. “I thought you were just being your neurotypical, paranoid self.” 

 Tobirama sighs. “How are your meals? Do you find them agreeable? Do you tire easily?”

 You stare at Tobirama as if he had grown another head, but you know that if you do not answer, he will keep pressing you. “My meals are fine, and agreeable. I find it impossible to get tired these days since you keep micromanaging my sleep.” 

Your answers bring relief to Tobirama and you stare at him, confused. “Is there something that I should know?” 

 Tobirama takes both of your hands, and holds onto them tightly. “It feels strange that I am the one breaking the news of your pregnancy for you.” 

Your mouth drops in shock, and the two of you stare at each other, one in disbelief, and the other smug. 

 “H-How?!” You stammer. 

 “I sensed a disturbance in your chakra, and...I realized that it has the same signature as mine. Yours flare stronger than usual, too.” 

 “Since when?” 

 “I confirmed it just now. Besides, it was just a theory.” 

 “Dammit, Tobirama,” you reply, more out of habit, but you are not exasperated with him. 

Tobirama presses a kiss into your palms, and then your wrists. Warmth travels through your chest, and when you find your husband’s eyes, it is easily perceptible that he shares the same feelings as you. 

 “Now, go rest,” Tobirama orders, but the softness in his voice is so palpable, you are reeling from it. 

 You roll your eyes, and start to exit the study. You hear the shuffling of papers behind you, and you feel relief in your heart that he is not pushing himself as much.

 Tobirama suddenly calls your name and you turn to him, expectant. 

 You watch as he takes a few seconds to steel himself. He is looking down at his hands, which are slightly trembling and he starts to pick at the corner of papers he stacked himself.

 “Thank you, for making me a father,” Tobirama finally looks at you, and his voice is unexpectedly soft. The usual hardness in his tone is gone, replaced by this man, that is all soft tight-lipped smiles towards you. He is without the cold exterior that you experience from time to time. 

 This is Senju Tobirama, the man that you have always seen in him. Here in front of you, he is not the Nidaime Hokage, not the fastest shinobi in this generation, not the hailed politician nor his brother’s keeper. 

 He is just your husband right, here. Now. 

“I know I impose on you a lot, but I also hope that you can depend on me some more. I am your husband,” Tobirama quietly says, his eyes set towards the ground. “I cannot promise that I will be a good father, but I must try. My own child cannot experience the cruelty I grew up with.”

 “I know you will,” you tell him, and you give him a grin. “I know that you will protect them and fight for them, and that is what a good father does.” 

 Tobirama meets your gaze, and he nods. “Go. I will meet you in the bedroom in a moment.” 

You smile, and you almost break out into a run, but Tobirama quickly reprimands you. 

 “Walk, do not run,” you hear him say from his study. 

You walk, but you hurry towards the inner garden where you hid the pot of wheat and barley seeds. You pull it out from its hiding place, and you stare at it, joy bubbling deep inside your chest. 

 Tears prickle your eyes, and you blink them away. 

 The wheat has begun to grow, and you let out a breath that you have been holding. 

 You are with a child, and the realization makes you want to jump from excitement. You laugh to yourself, and decide to tell Tobirama your findings later, when the pregnancy is well on its way.

To be continued...

Chapter 6 - Now >>

[ddaehyeon]

– ♡; FIRST FALL ; KANG MINHEE

pairing: kang minhee + reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.5k

summary: the question kept running in your head and maybe, you didn't want an answer. >> star tears au

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this one aaaaa i have a part two idea. if you want a continuation of this one-shot let me know! (´｡･v･｡｀)

do you like minhee?

like a broken record the question kept on spiraling in your head. after it was asked by your best friend, the words became attached to your mind. at some point, it would even make you space out.

a sigh left your lips as you leaned to the railings. located on the fourth floor of the apartment building, your new unit gave a good view of the busy city. during the day, it would give a fair scenery of the people pacing around, most were university students who were to attend their classes. during the night, office workers who had been trampled by exhaustion would be trudging on the sidewalk, wanting nothing but be comforted by their beds or if they have enough energy, drinking would be their go-to.

you retrieved your phone from your pocket, swiping it unlock as soon. minhee should be here by now. in his last text, he said he'd be there in ten minutes.

a few days ago, minhee agreed to go with you to buy some indoor plants. you just moved into a new unit and as per your mother's wish of keeping you former plants, you ended up budgeting this week's allowance to buy yourself another batch of flora companions. there was something in having plants decorating your room. seeing the greens gave a good amount of serenity. something that you needed as a break from all the piling homework assignments your major was throwing you.

"hey, y/n. did i make you wait?" minhee's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, your head turning to him.

straightening your composure, you shook your head. it was a lie. you've been waiting for him... rather impatiently, but you didn't want him to know. at least he was already there. a faint smile came to your brim. "let's go?"

the walk was a silent one. judging from the dark circles that were painted under his eyes, he probably didn't get much sleep last night. his major was as taxing as yours, having to deal with numerous code under the dim lights of his computer screen. there were a lot of things that he had to remember and the midterms examination was just around the corner. minhee was dealing with codes as you were dealing with numeric equations. he could've just told you that he was to rest today, but then again, you can't blame him for wanting a break off the bustling student life. if given the opportunity to, getting outside the dormitory was far better than lying on the bed. a single turn to the side and you'd be seeing your study table where all the school-related works were waiting.

this wasn't so different from your first encounter with minhee. a quiet walk as he carried the rubber plant you purchased. seeing you struggle on the sidewalk, urged him to lend you a hand. minimal words were exchanged. few questions uttered to learn something about the stranger who was walking beside you. he was attending the same university, the only distinction was he was under the department of information technology, while you were in the engineering department.

his own dormitory was farther than yours and sometimes when you were to attend your morning classes, he'd end up bumping to you. the previously solitary walk altered by his presence as he treaded with you. without noticing, it became a routine for the two of you whenever your schedules match.

once again, the question came knocking in your mind, anticipating an answer. however, you denied it, pushing it to the back of your head.

with the bells chiming, the florist welcomed you with a warm greeting. the smile coming from the old lady was vibrant as usual. something that could easily pull the same expression from you.

your feet immediately brought you to the location of the indoor plants.

minhee followed you, eyeing each plant curiously. he lifted a kalanchoe. "this looks pretty. the small blooms would suit your window sill."

humming, you took a mental note of picking that one up. you reached for a peace lily, a beam gracing your lips as you do so.

"you gifted me that plant last year." a soft chuckle was heard from the male as he moved closer to you. standing behind you, his hand was extended to hold the same pot. his fingers brushed by the back of your hand, bringing a pale hue of red to your cheeks.

there was an awareness that coursed throughout your body, resulting in you being conscious of your senses. your ears enclosed by the rapid beating of your heart. cheeks growing hot each passing second. butterflies were in chaos as they flutter in your stomach. his presence alone was taking your breath away.

no, you told yourself. refusing to submit to the query that had been plaguing your mind ever since it was spoken.

"you still remember it, huh?" gaze fixated to the plant both of you were holding, you asked. it was an attempt to distract yourself, to put your mind to another topic.

but his answer immediately pulled you back to your best friend's question. "of course, i still have it by my study table. it's such a nice plant."

yesterday, your best friend joined you in the aimless staring by the balcony. legs propped together as you leaned to the wall. the wooden bench holding the two of you as you silently stared at the night sky. the stars were glimmering above, making you wonder how it was possible to see its light when it was a million miles away from you. the celestial canvas gave way for comfort to wrap around your figure. it was one of the nights where the sky was clear, offering a wonderful view of the black ocean with smothered sparkles.

"hopefully none of us will have those stars slipping out of our eyes," your best friend said.

for a moment, you tore your gaze away from the sky to look at her. "what do you mean?"

"star tears disease," she replied, pausing for a moment. "the result of unrequited affection."

it was a known illness in your place. people day by day were losing their gift to see colors, the saturation decreasing each passing day of their unreciprocated feelings. at extreme, some even see the world pitch black-- all colors snatched from them.

cruel. how come the universe would take away your ability to see the beauty of the world and still leave you with a broken heart?

the serenity that surrounded you shattered by a question that came out of her lips. "do you like minhee?"

four words. four words that were punctuated by a question mark came penetrating past your ears down to your stomach, making it flip in a terrible manner. you never asked yourself such. all you knew was you enjoyed the male's company. you froze in your place, unable to voice out a reply. you were unsure of what to answer.

or perhaps you knew the answer, but you were reluctant to succumb to it.

you declined to fall under its spell that would bring nothing but worry to your veins. as if the question sitting by your brain wasn't enough to intensify such feeling.

"thank you for today, minhee," you said after he placed the last pot on your table. different kinds of flora would be your company tonight.

the male let out of a chuckle. "no problem. it was fun." a beam became visible on his countenance as his gaze landed on your figure.

"you should go and rest now. seems like you didn't get much last night as well." among the group of plants, you lifted a pot of echeveria. you walked toward the male, handing it to him.

"what is this for?" minhee tilted his head to the side, a brow raised. he accepted the plant without much thought anyway.

you hunched your shoulder up. "nothing. a thank you gift, i guess?"

"oh-" nodding his head, the smile he had on his lips became brighter. too much for your liking. if he keeps on having such a vibrant smile, you might end up giving him all the plants you bought. "i'll take care of it then."

few more exchanges and minhee finally bid goodbye, wishing you a pleasant evening. there was a smile that spread on your lips, the answer you've been searching for coming to you in a single hit. its wave strong enough to make your knees grow weak. minhee left the room, the door closed cautiously. it also served as an answer to your unspoken confession.

along with the jingling sound that came to your ears as a soft music, a star cascaded down your cheek.

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