#that helps me know what he wants and needs though so I won’t complain except when he tries to wake me up for food and play before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebetawolfgirl · 10 months

Text

We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Umm… Friends to lovers? Smut!

A/N: New Fic!

We’re Just Friends

Timothée and y/n had been friends since they were 10 years old. They knew nothing else but each other, they could spot each other from opposite ends of the school yard.

She could find him in a room full of people.

The point is they were close. Closer than siblings, except when they argued it wasn’t like siblings would argue, and it never lasted very long.

Y/n and her friends were getting ready for a party at her apartment, she was trying on dresses in her walk in wardrobe while one of her friends, Daisy was telling her about this guy she had met at one of her mom’s dinner parties.

‘He has a younger brother y/n, I could set you up?’

‘Y/n doesn’t go for the business type, they bore her to death.’

She heard Timmy step into her bedroom and smiled knowing her friends would be rolling their eyes.

‘Timmy, come and help me with this dress please? The zip is stuck again!’

Timmy sighed and opened the doors to the walk in and saw the dress she was wearing, the one with zip on the front ‘Why are you wearing this dress? You know the zip always catches?’

‘Because it’s a nice dress and it’s sparkly.’ She smiles at him as he slides down the zip slowly trying not to catch it again.

She stripped herself of the dress and hung it up before walking over to get something else.

She was walking around in her underwear in front of Timmy and though they were used to their odd behaviour this was new.

Y/n never stripped in front of anyone let alone walking around in her underwear. She didn’t even get undressed in front of her own mother, but here she was walking around half naked in front of her only guy friend.

‘Okay I need to go. As much as I would love to stay for your fashion show I have to get ready.’

Y/n frowned ‘Where you going?’

‘I’m going to be at that party tonight. My sister was invited so I’m going with her.’

Y/n smiled widely and jumped into his arms hugging him tightly, ‘YOURE GOING TOO????’

He chuckled wrapping his arms around her waist tightly and nodded. ‘Yes I’m going too. So I will see you there.’

She let him go, smiling and kissed his cheek before he buried his face in her neck swaying with her before letting her go ‘Get dressed before you catch a chill.’

She turned and squealed as he slapped her ass and turned round to smack his chest scolding him ‘Timmy. Go!’

He smirked as she clicked her tongue and walked out the door while her friends were whispering to each other glancing at them.

‘Y/n why haven’t you and Timmy gotten together?’

‘We’re just friends, and he’s with Stephanie now.’

‘Timmy doesn’t act like that with Stephanie.’ Daisy said raising her eyebrow.

‘In fact I don’t think he’s even touched her in that way.’

Y/n’s head snapped up looking over at her friend ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean Stephanie has been complaining that Timmy still hasn’t slept with her. They’ve been going out for weeks!’

‘That’s impossible.’ Y/n shook her head and went into the bathroom to begin her makeup.

Later after her friends left to get ready themselves y/n heard the door open and close and footsteps come toward her room

‘Timmy?’ She called from the bathroom ‘Is that you?’

‘Yeah, sorry. I know I said we’d meet at the party but can I just arrive with you?’ He came into the bathroom and leaned against the door watching her as she nodded in confirmation.

‘Of course. What’s wrong?’ She asked buttoning her dress jeans and walking over to him.

‘Stephanie found out I’m going to the party after I told her I wasn’t going. Now she wants to go with me, but I already said I was escorting my sister. But Pauline is going with someone else so she doesn’t need me to escort her.’

‘Now Stephanie is pissed because you won’t take her.’ Timmy nodded resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back as he lay his head against her neck as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

‘Why haven’t you slept with Stephanie yet?’ Y/n asked against his shoulder.

‘It doesn’t seem like the right time.’

He mumbled back, his voice muffled against her skin. ‘You smell good.’

She smiled playing with the curls at his neck.

‘Thank you, it’s cinnamon scented lotion.’

He moved his head, sliding his hand to hold the back of her neck and bit down sucking hard.

‘Ow! Not edible lotion you freak!’ She shoved him playfully, letting him hit the wall as she looked at her neck in the mirror and glared back at his smirking face ‘Im telling everyone you’re a vampire and you tried to eat me!’

He continued to smirk as she grabbed her jacket and bag walking out with him. ‘Come on.’

He followed obediently and walked down to the cab she had ordered in advance and told him to get in with her ignoring his insistence he could walk ‘Timmy get in, you’re not walking anywhere, it’s New York and it’s freezing.’

‘Fine!’ He slid in beside her and they made their way to the party together.

Halfway there she grabbed his phone and got some pics together in the cab and even got a cheeky one of her grabbing his face and kissing his cheek.

He posted one to his social media captioning it “Party time with bestie” and tagged her.

When they reached their destination they paid the driver and quickly got inside when it began to rain. Neither of them considered Stephanie would be attending so Timmy stayed by y/n’s side during the party.

Some of the older guests assumed they were a couple but they always denied it saying they were just friends and they grew up together.

Stephanie arrived an hour after them and sought out Timmy and found him getting cosy with y/n with his arm around her waist nuzzling her neck.

Y/n saw her entering the party and nudged Timmy pointing to his girlfriend and y/n heard him sigh against her neck and she patted his back ‘Go. Now.’ He left with a peck on her neck and she sighed as he approached Stephanie and watched the way he held her and kissed her in greeting.

Her friends were right, Timmy was completely different with Stephanie than he was with her. It was as if he was touching something nasty, y/n knew from just watching them he didn’t like touching her. Wether they were like this in private, she didn’t know. But this interaction was painful to watch.

She watched as they left the room to go out into the garden so y/n decided to subtly follow them when she was stopped by Daisy and some guy.

‘Y/n this is Tanner, Andy’s younger brother who I was telling you about.’

‘Oh hello, it’s not a good time right now. We’ll catch up later Daisy.’

She walked off sighing. She knew she had just been rude but she had to check on Timmy.

Y/n walked out into the garden and heard someone arguing as if they were trying to keep their voices down.

‘I just don’t get it, Timothée. We’ve been together for weeks and we still haven’t even had sex yet.’

‘I’m just not ready yet Stephanie. I’ve told you that!’ She heard him sigh, and took a peak around the corner and saw him sitting on a stone bench while Stephanie stood over him her arms folded across her chest looking upset.

‘But you won’t even touch me. Whenever I try an kiss you you turn your head away and right now when I tried to sit on your lap you pushed me off.’

‘Because you’re obsessed with sex! I’ve never met anyone so obsessed with fucking the way you are!’

‘I’m not obsessed with sex, I just want to have sex with you.’ She shouted.

Y/n had heard enough she came out of the shadow of her hiding place saying Timothée’s name ‘Timmy. Pauline is looking for you. Hello Stephanie, you look lovely as always.’ Y/n smiled nodding her head slightly in acknowledgment. Stephanie was glaring at y/n until she complimented her and she returned her smile in thank you.

Timmy stood up and followed y/n inside leaving Stephanie standing alone with her thoughts.

‘Thank you for rescuing me.’ Timmy whispered walking with y/n indoors.

‘You’re welcome, I saw you walking out with her and knew she would start something with you.’ He nodded grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray being passed around and took a sip before pulling y/n to his side by her waist and kissed her exposed shoulder, lightly nipping the skin making her turn her head towards him and wrapped her arm over his shoulder, when she saw the guy Daisy brought over make his way through the crowd towards them and sighed ‘Daisy isn’t gonna let this go until I give this guy a moment of my time.’

Timmy looked over and smirked ‘Very business type.’ He sniggered but y/n whispered his ear. ‘If you don’t come and get me in 15 minutes no more cuddles.’ He choked on his last chuckle and went pale at the very serious threat and nodded as the guy approached with a million dollar smile and y/n had to stop herself from gagging in disgust.

‘Hi, I’m-‘

‘Tanner, yes I remember. Nice to meet you.’ She held out her hand which he took and kissed her knuckles.

Oh so he was this type of guy, goodie. She could feel Timmy coming closer to her in a protective manner and smirked.

‘Would you care to dance?’

‘Sure, why not.’

He guided her to the dance floor as Timmy looked on burning a hole into the guy’s skull and walked over to Daisy pointing to his best friend’s dance partner ‘Who the fuck invited James Bond?’

‘I did, i wanted y/n to meet him.’

‘Why? He’s not her type.’

‘I thought he was handsome and cultured.’

‘He’s a shmuck and slobbering all over someone’s hand doesn’t make you cultured. It makes you look like a baby with no teeth.’

Daisy glared and stalked off while Timmy looked on counting down to 15 minutes when he could drag her away from this moron.

He didn’t know why he was acting so jealous, but he knew this guy was not y/n’s type. She liked the goofy type of guy who she could boss around but who could equally take charge when called for.

And he knew this because she ordered him around like a puppy. This guy was the type of guy that would order her food for her at a restaurant, who would feel threatened by her independence and her strength.

He looked at his watch and saw it had been 15minutes and walked over to where they were standing at the bar and was close enough to hear their conversation and knew it was not going well, for him. The guy was trying to order for her at the bar, and she was telling the bartender that she didn’t want that. He was also insisting that he would like to buy drink for her but y/n had already handed the guy her money paying for her own drink.

‘I pay my own way, I don’t need anyone’s charity.’

Timmy smiled approaching hearing the guy huffing exasperated ‘It’s not charity, it’s called being gentlemanly. A lady should never pay for her own drink at a party. Especially if a gentleman is offering to pay.’

She turned seeing Timmy approaching and tilted her head asking him ‘Timmy am I a lady?’ Timmy scoffed shaking his head ‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘And do I always pay my own way?’

‘You paid the cab ride over here.’

‘Exactly. So let this chivalrous crap go. I’m not into it. It’s more Daisy’s thing than mine.’

The guy shook his head disapprovingly and left as Timmy and y/n smiled at each other.

‘So do i still get my cuddles?’

He asked taking a sip of the very unlady like beer she had ordered for herself.

‘Yes of course you do.’ She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her back holding her tight against him before sitting on the bar stool pulling her back against him by her waist and watched the party going on around them. The music was louder now as the older guests had retired earlier and only the guests their age remained.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and played with the waistband of her jeans, touching her skin there. She lay her hand over his and entwined their fingers together as he leaned forward and nipped her shoulder. She leaned into him and nudged his nose with hers and kissed his cheek.

‘Is there somewhere we can go?’

He whispered against her neck and she took his hand getting up and dragged him out of the door and up a set of stairs looking for a room.

Every time she stopped to open a door he would grab her hips and nip and kiss her neck until they found a bedroom and she dragged him in behind her as he ran his hands up and grabbed fistfuls of her breasts through her waistcoat, she kicked the door shut and he slammed her against it and began sucking on her neck while turning the key in the lock behind her as she tugged on his hair trying to get him closer to her as possible. She pushed her knee between his legs and pressed against his groin causing him to bite down on her neck hard.

He grabbed her waist picking her up and tosses her on the four poster king size bed crawling on top of her when she pulled his shirt over his head as he tore the buttons off her waistcoat and wrapped his hand around her throat squeezing gently making her gasp.

She grabbed him by his head and slammed her mouth against his in a hungry kiss. He kissed back with equal hunger sliding his hands down her body before sliding her jeans down her legs, breaking the kiss he removed his own jeans before climbing back over to her, he made quick work of their underwear and he slid into her slowly, taking his time as y/n reached up and placed small kisses along his shoulders before he began thrusting into her at a steady pace as she held onto his shoulders.

Y/n gripped onto his shoulders digging her nails into his skin as he began to slam into her harder making her gasp and drag her nails halfway down his arms.

He groaned and collapsed on top of her pinning her beneath him and rammed into her wrapping her legs higher around his waist causing her to moan and jerk higher up the mattress and the bed frame to rock.

She flipped them onto his back and began to ride him and felt his hands run up her torso and grab her breasts roughly. She slammed her hips down on his making him grunt and rut his hips upwards to meet hers causing him to go deeper inside her.

He rolled them to the other side of the bed pinning her down on the mattress and slammed into her as her head hung over the side of the bed and carved his hips into hers going deep again making her groan.

He pulled her up by her neck and kissing her roughly as they came together in a sweaty panting mess as they fell back landing at the bottom of the bed tangled in the sheets.

He kissed and nipped along her collarbone and throat before burying his face against her neck clinging to her and breathing shakily.

Y/n caught her breath and ran her fingers through his hair wiping his damp curls from his face.

She listened and realised the music had stopped downstairs and everyone had left.

‘It’s gone quiet downstairs. I think everyone is gone.’

She felt him move against her neck and wrap his arm tighter around her waist cuddling into her.

‘I’m not moving. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.’

She nodded and lifted his head placing an open kiss against his lips and turned onto her stomach letting Timmy kiss her back and shoulder before laying his head on her mid back closing his eyes as they drifted off to sleep!

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timothée chalamet #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet smut #friends to lovers

486 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 6 months

Note

Happy Valentine's! Dealers choice, though I love SIAT

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Naruto knows when Itachi is due back from his mission because, as always, she’s spent years sneaking into her father’s office and going through his paperwork. She’s still split on whether he genuinely hasn’t noticed (unlikely) or is just letting her snoop on highly classified files (also unlikely) but as long as she keeps being able to get past his seals, she’s going to take advantage of it.

Itachi doesn’t even have the decency to act surprised to see her sitting on his kitchen table and eating his chips. Probably because he sensed her from a literal mile away, but still. “Hello Naruto,” he says, dropping his pack on the floor and heading straight to his fridge for the disgusting weird protein health drinks he gets from the Inuzukas.

Tsume forces those on them semi-regularly and they taste like dirt. She doesn’t understand how Itachi drinks them willingly. “I need a favor.”

“Okay,” he says, tilting his head back and chugging.

She frowns. “It’s a big favor. You’re not going to like it.”

He finishes the bottle and throws it into the trash across the room without looking. “Okay.”

She throws up her hands. “Seriously? Are you really planning on letting me cash in on helping expose Madara for the rest of your life?”

“Yes,” he says.

Unbelievable. She balls up the bag of chips and throws it at his head. He lets it bounce off and fall to the ground.

He does shit like this because he knows it pisses her off. She’s sure of it.

Shikamaru like Naruto well enough, but tends to tune her out a lot of the time, because she’s very loud and high energy and likes to do things that end up getting everyone in trouble except her. It’s not even like she’s using the fact that she’s the hokage’s daughter to get out of it – she’s just that much better at outrunning Anbu than they are.

There’s a joke in there about her avoiding Kakakshi, but since he values his limbs and also his quiet, he never makes it.

When Naruto’s quiet, that’s when they need to worry. Naruto was really quiet around the time she unearthed the almost rebellion of the Uchiha that he’s supposed to know nothing about. She’s quiet now too, blue eyes dark and voice low as she tells them what the first two sections of the chunin exam are going to be like and that they have to be careful.

“Why are you so worried about this?” Ino asks.

Naruto trades a glance with Sasuke then, surprisingly, Sakura. Shikamaru hadn’t been sure those two could untangle from each other enough to make room from the girl from a civilian family, but it doesn’t seemed to have tripped them up too badly. “It’s need to know. For now.”

Considering all the things Naruto talks about loudly and unrepentantly, that’s very, very concerning.

“You’re telling the others this?” Chouji asks.

Sakura nods. “We’ll be waiting in the forest. We won’t go to the tower until you’re all there.”

It sounds arrogant said like that, but Sasuke’s a prodigy in his own right, and the only reason he hadn’t graduated early was because he and Naruto had wanted to be on the same team together.

The reason Naruto hadn’t graduated early was partially due to sabotage – man, had their teacher before Iruka hated her – but also because she refused to correct them, to complain, to make a big deal out of her abilities.

Naruto plays things closer to her chest than even he does.

So if she’s being this transparent and upfront, they better listen.

Troublesome.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #naruto

363 notes · View notes

clarisse0o · 2 months

Text

Camp Wiegman - Part 4

Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Monday, October 12; 9:20 AM - In Class

Exactly one week ago, I left Barcelona to join this school. I am slowly getting used to this new environment, even though it's not easy every day. Right now, I'm in my second hour of class, chatting quietly with Alexia. She is no longer as uptight and serious as she was at the beginning. We laugh and talk a lot. It's become a bad habit since we tend to lose focus on the lessons and get scolded by our teachers. Our laughter mingles with the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway. The thick walls pick up every sound when the door is open. No one pays attention until there's a knock at the door. Silence reigns, except for my laughter, which I can't suppress. This earns me a stern look from my teacher, who walks towards the door to invite the unknown visitor in. He wouldn't have needed to bother when I see that it is my furious supervisor. Everyone shrinks back as she visually scans the room until she locks eyes with me. Her eyes narrow and turn black with anger. Alexia has to nudge me to stop my hysterical laughter.

“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Smith,” she begins without averting her eyes. “I just need to take a student who won’t be returning for the rest of the day. Could you inform your colleagues?”

“Oh, uh... Yes, of course, Miss Bronze.”

Even my teacher is intimidated by her. Pathetic. I understand better why my reputation has skyrocketed in just one week. Most people already know me as the brave student who dares to stand up to the commander. I am tired of this charade. I look to my neighbor for support, but she seems paralyzed by what’s happening. She recoils when Bronze slams her flat hands on my desk, making me jump. Our faces are just inches apart when I turn my head towards her.

“Hey!” I exclaim indignantly. “Be careful with the school property, come on!”

“Shut up, Ona. Just shut up if you don’t want to make me even angrier,” she threatens. “Pack your things. Now!”

She’s really fired up today! I’ve never seen her this angry or heard her use such a disdainful tone. I smile as I gather my things. I must not have been quick enough for her because she grabs my bag from the floor and starts packing my notebook herself while I collect my pens in my pencil case. I barely have time to close it before she snatches it from my hands and throws it into the bag. She shoves it against my chest so hard that my chair slides back from the impact.

“I hope you're ready because I won't spare you today. Move it, let's go.”

I barely have time to put on my camo jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder before she pushes me down the aisle to lead the way. I don’t resist and, more importantly, I don’t talk back. I barely dare to when she’s calm, so doing it now would be like challenging the devil himself. I’ve spent enough time with her last week to know her coldness and strength. I clearly don’t measure up, mentally or physically. I wait in the hallway while she apologizes for the disruption to my teacher. When she rejoins me, I instinctively lower my head to avoid her eyes. I might have pulled off the best trick of my life, but facing her imposing presence, I already dread what’s coming next.

“I don’t know how you managed to do what you did, but you’re in deep trouble!” she scolds.

The thought of denying it crosses my mind, but it wouldn’t help. My silence prompts her to pull my arm to move forward. She still holds me the same way, but this is the first time she’s hurt me this much. She’s really furious. I struggle to keep up with her pace. I say nothing, fearing she might speed up if I complain... But then, damn it, I shouldn’t just take it!

“It’s not like I didn’t warn you that I’d get revenge.”

She stops abruptly, making me instinctively step back after bumping into her. I regret my words the second her icy green eyes pierce through me. I swallow hard.

“You’re really just a poor idiot!” she spits. “You don’t understand anything! You want to play the one who’ll face the worst revenge? Fine, let’s play then! Now I don’t want to hear a word from you until I say so!”

My eyes widen in surprise. I already regret my unnecessary provocation. We reach the first floor of the instructors' dorms. She releases her painful grip only when we arrive at room 7. She roughly pushes me into the room I’ve recently become familiar with. I barely avoid falling headfirst due to her strength. It seems I deserve it now that I see the state of her place. Her room has the same furniture as mine. The only difference is the layout. She has a double bed – which looks more comfortable than my single bed – and her wardrobe stands next to the window. As for the desk, it’s on the opposite side.

“You’re going to tidy up this mess!” she exclaims. “I want everything back in its place! Not a single thing out of order, understood?”

“Don’t you like your new room? I think it’s pretty nice.”

“Don’t push me, Batlle. You don’t even realize what a slippery slope you’re on.”

Oh, I realize it, but it’s worth it. It’s all her fault. I warned her I would get revenge for what she made me endure.

“You shouldn’t have taken my phone and computer!” I retorted.

“And you shouldn’t have disrespected your superiors!” she raises her voice. “Clean up this mess!”

She drags the desk chair to the entrance and sits down. I watch her for a moment, quickly understanding that she will stay here until I finish. I sigh as I assess the extent of the damage. Her anger is justified, but so is mine. I rummaged through her stuff as much as she did through mine to find my hidden electronics. I am proud of my revenge idea.

Our relationship has deteriorated since the shower incident. She hasn't stopped punishing me for the slightest infraction. The first was for being late to my sports class on Thursday morning. As expected, I was sent to Bronze's office. Her decision was radical... I had two hours of personal training doing laps around the field.

Add to that my morning delays, which my bed continues to cause. For that, I got dishwashing duties in the cafeteria on Thursday and Friday after every meal. The upside was being assisted by Leah, who received the same punishment from Engen, Bronze's partner, for skipping classes. Time passed faster. We even ended our last day with a water fight that Bronze interrupted. I thought we would extend our punishment, but in the end, she just scolded us for being soaked and told us to clean up our mess.

I accepted all of this without complaint because it was expected. What I couldn't tolerate was her confiscating all my electronics behind my back just before the weekend. It didn’t take me long to notice and tell her what I thought. She justified her action by keeping her cool. It turns out she had learned about my inattentive and provocative behavior in class. She wanted to make me reflect over the weekend when my outing pass was denied. However, my cheekiness made her change her mind, and she decided to return my things at an unspecified time, more precisely when I had calmed down, according to her.

Because of her, I was irritated all weekend to the point of conducting my little investigation during her absence. My first idea was to find her room to recover my belongings. The problem was, I found nothing while searching it. I then changed my plans, not wanting to waste the opportunity. I knew it would drive her crazy to know I was here, so I emptied her wardrobe and all her drawers, scattering everything around. Surprisingly, I discovered nothing valuable. I expected her to look for me earlier this morning, but she must have been absent since it was Engen who checked our room. It’s a shame because Bronze missed my first-ever achievement of being ready on time. It takes me a good hour to finish cleaning her room. I intended to collapse onto the desk, but she stops me in my tracks.

“Uh-uh. Change the sheets on my bed while you’re at it.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“I’m sorry, OK?” I grumble. “I get it, I crossed the line! I just wanted to get my laptop and phone back!”

“You don’t get it at all,” she says in a dismissive tone. “You’re just trying to weasel your way out. If you really understood the lesson, you wouldn’t be talking back!”

I stay silent, faced with the truth. Her words won’t make me regret my actions. I step back as she gets up from her chair. I expected her to do something, but she just walks past me to get new sheets. So she wasn’t joking. I don’t hide my boredom.

“Come on, make my bed,” she encourages. “Then we’ll leave.”

“Again?” I sigh.

“You’re mine for the day. I plan to make you endure things that will make you think twice before pulling your next stunt.”

I go to her to get a sports uniform that she hands me. It's a new one that she must have picked up from the stock. I lock myself in her bathroom, a room I hadn't even thought to check. It's newer than mine. It has a sink with a larger countertop and a big mirror. My small shower cubicle doesn't compare to her huge walk-in shower behind the toilet. I stop making comparisons and place the clothes I'm wearing next to her sink to replace them with sweatpants, a t-shirt, and my jacket. I might need it if we stay outside. I don't linger and rejoin Bronze, who hasn't moved from her spot since earlier.

"What should I do with my uniform?" I asked.

"Where did you put it?"

"Folded next to the sink."

"Leave it there; you'll put it back on later."

I nodded, and she jumped off her desk. We headed out to the multi-sport fields. I didn’t wait for her orders to go to the edge of the field, ready to run. Her grip finally stopped me.

"We’re not starting with that today. First, you’re going to do fifty push-ups," she ordered.

"What? But there’s mud everywhere!"

"So what? At least next time, you’ll remember not to mess with me."

"Please-"

"No, Ona. Stop arguing! I’m already very patient with you, so don’t ask me to be even more patient because it’s not possible!"

"I can't do them..." I finally admitted in a whisper.

"Pardon?"

"I’ve never managed to do them," I said louder, avoiding her eyes.

"Well, you’re going to learn now. Come on, get on the ground, I'll help you."

I sighed but obeyed, looking for a spot with less mud. I could only blame myself for this punishment. My knees weren’t spared, but at least I avoided stains on other parts. I fell onto my hands and extended my legs to stay elevated. It was hard to hold. Even more so when I felt my supervisor's hands on my waist. I tensed, but I held on to avoid making her pull back immediately.

"Relax. I just want to position you correctly, okay?" she said.

I nodded at her explanation. I tried to relax, but it was hard. Her presence was unsettling. One of her hands slid under my belly while the other was on my shoulder to straighten me up.

"Don’t move your back. I’m going to reposition your legs, so try to hold your position."

She unexpectedly grabbed one of my ankles. My body reacted by keeping it on the ground. Again, she asked me to let go. Once I did, she brought my ankle closer to the other until they were almost touching. When she announced I was good, my arms gave out. I ended up flat on my stomach in the mud, growling in frustration.

"It’s okay. You’re just not used to working your arms," she explained. "Try to get back into position like I just showed you."

I nodded and got back on my hands and feet. My position must have been correct since she didn’t have to adjust much. Just my back, which was rounded again.

"Do them with motivation. I’d like you to find a regular rhythm if possible."

"It’s going to be hard," I mumbled.

"That’s the point. I want you to feel your body heating up tomorrow and think of me, remembering why I made you do this."

"I get the lesson, Bronze," I tried.

"No, you don’t. Do something like this again, and it’s going to be worse for you. It won’t just be push-ups and laps around the field next time. Do we agree?"

"Yes..."

Throughout this, I was still holding myself up on my arms. They started to shake from lack of strength. Bronze was no longer angry, but her voice remained firm. She wanted me to submit, and she was getting it. I was at her feet in every sense of the word. I was on the verge of giving up, but she ordered me to hold on. I really had to dig deep mentally to manage it.

"I want you to understand that if I give you a sanction, it’s not for my pleasure. Every punishment has its reasons."

"I understand..."

"No, not yet," she replied. "But it will come."

"I’m telling you I un-"

"I said no," she cut me off harshly. "Do you understand that I’m not against you?"

My silence spoke volumes about my thoughts. No, that I didn’t understand. To me, she was holding me back, so she was against me. I just wanted to be left alone and live my life. Bronze did the opposite by always coming down on me.

"Then you don’t understand," she concluded. "You’ll understand the meaning of your sanctions when you accept that I’m not the villain. Anyway, let’s get back to where we were. Start your push-ups. You’ll even count them out loud for me. I’ll reduce them to thirty since it’s your first time. Okay?"

"Yes, Bronze."

"Let’s go. One!"

I groaned at the sound of the first number. I bent my arms and pushed to try and lift myself. In vain. I fell pitifully to the ground. If I had been in Bronze’s place, I would have laughed at myself, but she didn’t. Instead, she encouraged me to try again with more effort. I’d like to see her try! If she had my body, she’d understand my struggle. I didn’t doubt hers was very athletic. I tried again, putting all my strength into it. I shouted the number in a victorious cry when I managed the push-up. I was back on the ground the next second. I felt my morning was going to be very long...

Monday, October 12; 1:10 p.m. - Bathroom.

I was washing my hands for the second time to remove the dried mud that was hard to get off. The sky had been clear this morning, but yesterday’s rain hadn’t spared me. I had just finished my punishment. Bronze was leaning against the sink next to me, watching me with a mocking smile. I didn’t see what was funny. I was covered in mud, both my clothes and the few inches of visible skin. Don’t even mention my face. I had fallen countless times during the push-ups. My record was probably three in a row.

"Are you okay?" she asked cheerfully. "Let me help you."

"No, it’s fine."

"Oh, stop being a killjoy and let me help."

She tore off a piece of paper towel meant for drying hands and wet it. I tried to take it, but she slapped my fingers. I realized too late that she had trapped me between the faucet and her. I grumbled as she wiped the wet paper on my face.

"I could have done it."

"I’m trying to be nice; can’t you tell?"

I smiled slightly, averting my eyes. I let her continue, crossing my arms. She might be nice in real life, but not with me.

"Stop pouting."

"I’ll pout if I want to."

"Child."

I looked at her indignantly. I doubted an instructor had the right to insult a student. She probably allowed herself because it was unlikely anyone would believe me if I reported her.

"I give myself every right with you, and you’re probably right. No one would believe you."

"Did I speak out loud?"

"It seems so," she smiled. "Don’t move; I’ll be right back."

It was hard to leave with my face dripping water. She got another paper towel to dry my face before throwing it away. I looked in the mirror to admire her work. I thanked her as she washed her hands. I would have liked to change before eating, but Bronze had made it clear it wasn’t possible if we still wanted to be served. It would be the last straw if we couldn’t eat when she planned to keep me this afternoon. I wouldn’t last without something in my stomach. We arrived at an empty cafeteria. Fortunately, the cook offered to reheat a meal for each of us. He probably felt sorry for my appearance. I went first in line and greeted the staff I had recently worked with. They were all super nice. Once served, I went to my usual spot among all the empty tables. I flopped down on my chair, taking a deep breath. This break would finally let me relax. The soreness was already setting in. At the same time, she hadn’t gone easy on me. She had pushed me to the limit, though she admitted holding back. It was a good lesson. I wasn’t going to anger her anytime soon.

"Can I sit?"

I swallowed my bite with difficulty, nodding. I hadn’t expected her to join me. After all, it was just the two of us. It would be ridiculous to eat at two different tables. My break would be less restful than I had imagined.

"I’m here if you ever feel the need to talk," she said, surprising me.

I look up at her two emeralds that disturb me so much. She shows no hint of joking. This isn't the first time she's told me she wants to help. It seems she still doesn't understand that I don't want it, that I can't. It's beyond my strength.

"No, it's okay, thanks. It's not my thing."

"But it would do you good."

"You don't know me, you have no idea," I retorted coldly.

"You're right. So tell me about yourself."

"I don't see why it matters to you. It's been a long time since anyone's taken an interest in me. It's not going to change now."

"I care about you. You owe me that much after what you've put me through. Let's start with something basic. Do you have a passion, perhaps?"

She never gives up. I just found someone even more stubborn than me. I didn't think it was possible. I relax my shoulders and resign myself to answering her.

"I like art. Sometimes I draw."

"Draw?" she repeats, surprised.

"Yeah... It lets me express myself on paper and clear my head," I argued.

"But you don't have any drawing supplies in your room."

"I knew you searched my room!" I exclaimed.

"I didn't search, she rolls her eyes, exasperated. I just looked for your devices."

"You searched!"

"Okay... I searched if you want. Now answer me. Why don't you have any drawing supplies?"

"I thought I'd have access to downtown, but that's not the case."

I've only been here a week, but I admit I miss my pencils. It was my way of clearing my mind before sleeping. Now I listen to music or go on the computer. At least... I used to.

"When can I get my things back?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replies. "We could make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah, we've made one before. I'm ready to give them back to you in exchange for something."

"It depends on what you're proposing..." I said, skeptical.

"Okay. Hmm... How about I give you your things back on Friday if you're on time every morning this week?"

"Really?" I asked enthusiastically.

"It's not the end of the world, is it?" she asks, tilting her head. "I'm not even asking you to stop your other nonsense. Just to be ready in the morning."

"Deal," I agreed, extending my hand.

She looks surprised at my quick response. She shakes my hand firmly. I wouldn't have agreed to the deal if I wasn't sure of myself. I know I can do it.

"And if I fail?"

"We'll extend the deal to the following week. Again and again until you succeed."

"I'll succeed."

"You seem very confident," she says with a smile.

"I practiced making my bed perfectly this weekend," I tell her. "It shouldn't be a problem anymore."

"Well, we'll see if your training pays off. In any case, keep it up, I prefer this behavior."

I smile shyly, lowering my head. I'm not used to being praised. It was quite the opposite in recent years.

"Miss Bronze, I've finally found you!"

I straighten up as I see the director approaching us. Bronze was her entire focus until she saw me. She furrows her brows and turns back to my supervisor when she reaches us.

"Ona has been causing trouble again by not being in class at this time?"

"You could say that," she replies. "Nothing too serious."

Why is she lying? I turned an instructor's room upside down - hers, to be exact. I don't think Wiegman would call that "nothing too serious." She just sighs.

"Fine, if you say so. Are you busy this afternoon?"

"I decided to keep Ona with me," she admits. "Do you need me?"

"Actually, we're missing quite a few things for tonight's meeting. A buffet was supposed to be arranged, but nothing is going right. I'd like you to make a trip to town."

I observe the exchange attentively. My supervisor seems annoyed. She has a habit of running her hand through her hair when something displeases her. She must not appreciate Wiegman changing her plans at the last minute.

"Alright, but I have one condition."

"Which is?"

"That you allow me to take her with me," she says, pointing at me.

I'm as surprised as Wiegman by her request. Nothing would make me happier than for her to take me to town. All I want is to get out of this place, even for just five minutes. The director doesn't share my enthusiasm judging by her expression.

"Is that necessary?"

"Yes," she says, crossing her arms. "I want to keep an eye on her."

"Fine, but you'd better be careful. This is the first time I'm allowing a student to leave the establishment in the middle of the week."

"That's my intention, mam," she replies promptly. "I prefer knowing she's with me rather than leaving her alone here, unsupervised."

"Alright, I trust you anyway. Here's the list of what we need," she says, handing it to her. "Thanks again."

She turns away without waiting for a response. I can hardly believe what just happened. Bronze asked for me to accompany her to town. I can't believe it. I'm going to be able to leave this place! I thought she wanted to skin me alive after what I did to her.

"Wipe that smile off your face," she says, which makes me lose it. "I just don't want to leave you alone. You lost my trust the moment you entered my room."

"I promise you I regret it. At least... Not at first, but now I do."

"Whatever. You've just earned having me more on your back. It's time you got used to my presence, Ona, because you and I won't be parting from now on."

I swallow hard. If she intends to make me regret my mistake, she's already succeeded. She lets me finish my dessert before we clear our trays. Not knowing what to do or where to go, I follow her. We first return to her room where she asks me to put on my uniform.

"Put the one you're wearing in my laundry basket. I'll have it washed."

"When will you stop giving me orders?" I muttered under my breath.

"When you stop doing things your own way."

I thought she wouldn't hear me... I was wrong! She surprises me by giving me a kick in the butt to prompt me to enter the bathroom. I don't hesitate to go. I can finally take off these clothes. I put everything in her laundry basket, as she asked, then I put on my uniform. I come out fixing my messy hair. Bronze is waiting for me patiently on her bed.

"Can we go?"

"Yep."

We head out, passing the cafeteria on foot. I discover a place behind the gym hidden by trees. It's a large parking lot. Bronze unlocks a car from a distance with the key. I think I'm dreaming when I see the orange lights flashing on a black Audi A5.

"Is this your car?"

"Whose else would it be?"

"Well, I don't know... Maybe your boyfriend's."

She smiles slightly, shaking her head. I get into her car, forgetting her answer. I'm in an Audi! I've always had a soft spot for this brand. It has an undeniable class. To think my supervisor owns one. I'm jealous. The interior is equipped with black leather seats more comfortable than my own bed. It has just the right amount of space. I love it! She drives without exceeding second gear to reach the entrance. I'm sure she has a sports package given how the car purrs. I have no doubt when she takes off furiously down the street, leaving me completely pressed into the seat.

"It's mine," she snapped.

"So, no boyfriend then?" I asked playfully. "Not surprising, given your commanding attitude."

"Shut up," she retorted with a slight smile. "I might not know much about you, but you know nothing about me."

"Exactly, I told you something about me. You could do the same."

"No. I don't trust you anymore, and anyway, the rules forbid me from talking about my private life."

I sighed in frustration, settling into the seat. The trip continued in silence as I distracted myself with the scenery. Only houses passed by. It’s always better than the dilapidated walls of the camp. I'm seeing Manchester for the first time. I was so on edge when I arrived that I didn’t pay attention to the outside. We arrived at the supermarket parking lot, where she parked with a view of downtown buildings in the distance. She got out of the car while I looked at the supermarket. It seemed huge, almost double the size of the one I'm used to in Barcelona. I jumped when Bronze knocked on my window.

"Move it, we don't have all day."

Always so friendly... I unbuckled the seatbelt that still held me hostage as she opened the door for me. I grabbed what I recognized as a shopping cart token.

"Where should I get this?" I asked.

"We're going together; I’m not leaving you alone."

The opposite would have been strange. We grabbed a cart at the entrance, and unsurprisingly, I was the one tasked with pushing it. We entered the supermarket. I discreetly observed Bronze, who was busy reading the shopping list.

"Are you from here?"

"None of your business."

"You seem to know the place..."

"Stop."

"You're not funny," I sighed, leaning on the cart.

"I'm not particularly trying to be. Stand up straight, you're not a pasha."

I groaned in frustration. It seemed she decided to go back to being the unpleasant officer. I observed the environment I missed. I hadn't had any social contact for a week. It was mostly old people, but it was still better than the annoying faces of the camp students who kept staring at me. I was brought back to reality when fingers snapped in front of my nose.

"Stop daydreaming, Batlle. Let's go."

I sighed, walking beside her. She kept my pace, giving me time to notice that there were a lot of people for a Monday afternoon. We went aisle by aisle, as they came. We stopped whenever we found something on the list. The cart gradually filled up with towels, plates, drinks, snacks, and biscuits. The guests for tonight's meeting would be well-treated. I wished I could be in their place.

"Wait here, I forgot something in the next aisle."

I nodded. Anyway, I couldn't go anywhere without her. She was driving, and even if I wanted to leave, I didn't know the city and had no money or phone. I wouldn't get far. I watched Bronze until she was out of sight. I sighed in boredom. Shopping with an instructor was far from fun. The worst part was that she hadn't spoken since I insisted on getting information about her. That was stupid. I took advantage of her absence to lean on the cart and scan the surroundings. My gaze stopped on two young people in particular. They were the only ones I'd seen since the beginning. One of them was covered in piercings and tattoos. Nothing too extreme, just enough. I observed their hands seeking each other. I straightened up suddenly. I couldn't believe it! How could they do that in a supermarket! It might have gone unnoticed by others, but not by me. I felt suddenly shaky. Damn... I should never have seen that. The young man who had grabbed the merchandise continued his route as if nothing had happened. The other must have felt someone watching because he turned his head towards me. It was now or never. My hands were trembling. I stood up from the cart. I needed to talk to him, to negotiate to get some too! Just as I decided to go, a strong hand on my shoulder dissuaded me. I turned to see Bronze with a disapproving frown.

"Where were you planning to go?"

I slightly parted my lips, searching for a quick excuse. She looked up at the dealer. I did the same and saw that the guy I was about to approach was fleeing. Damn, he must have been scared!

"I... Well, since you were taking your time... Um... I wanted to see where you were."

"Don't bullshit me!" she snapped coldly.

I widened my eyes, not expecting such an excessive reaction. She understood everything, no doubt about it.

"Walk ahead," she said, pushing me from behind.

My hands clenched around the cart. I couldn't stop trembling. So close to the goal... I was frustrated and had messed up again. Bronze knew. The situation was even tenser than before. We made one last stop to get the final item on the list.

"If you've come this far, you better avoid relapsing," she broke the silence.

"Hmm."

"I'm serious," she frowned. "You don't need that crap to feel good for a short while."

"What does it matter to you? I have the right to do what I want."

"No, you don't have that right since I'm with you. And maybe I care because I'm worried about you!"

"Worried about me?" I scoffed. "Don't bullshit me! No one has worried about me for a long time. I don't need your pity, thanks."

I sped up, trying to find the registers alone. Bronze told me to slow down, but I ignored her. I just wanted her to leave me alone. Unfortunately for me, she caught up quickly.

"You really need to stop being so stubborn! I'm responsible for you, OK? And yes, I worry about you! You'll have to deal with it."

She sighed when she got no reaction from me. I didn't even flinch. I couldn't help it if I didn't believe her. Words are easy to say. It's another thing to back them up. She just guided me to the register when she realized she wouldn't get anything from me. I'd had enough arguments for today. I helped unload the items onto the conveyor belt when it was our turn, then did the reverse. When we finished, she paid with an envelope Wiegman had given her in the cafeteria. We loaded the car, then I returned the cart. The drive back was silent. Thankfully the trip was short because I couldn't stand the situation any longer. It was all my fault, and to top it off, my hands were still shaking.

"Give me your hand."

I shook my head vigorously. I didn't want any contact with her, especially since we were supposed to be on bad terms. But she didn't give me a choice and took my hand herself, slipping hers into mine by force. I hated my body for betraying me. I was supposed to refuse being touched, but I had no strength left. I was mentally disturbed, and my body decided to seek comfort from the person I hated the most at that moment. I hated her for being who she was. I hated her for daring to touch and care about me. And yet, I also hated her when she let go to shift gears. I could have done without her little smile, letting me know she understood that I needed her. I'm so contradictory. My tremors subsided during the ride. We arrived at the camp. She turned off the car after parking.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... Thanks," I managed to get out with a tight throat.

"Let's take it easy for the rest of the day. You'll help me set up the meeting room, and we'll take the chance to talk and lower the tension between us. Okay?"

I nodded, and she smiled back. Maybe my day wouldn't end as badly as I thought. I was grateful she didn't continue with punishments. I couldn't imagine doing anything physical after this episode. Once again, I was mentally and physically drained because of her. She'll be the death of me one day, for sure!

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #barca femeni #ona batlle #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

78 notes · View notes

magicshopaholic · 6 months

Text

A Lack of Colour

Summary: Seokjin realises he needs to have a talk with his girlfriend. Yoongi makes a promise. "i should have given you a reason to stay" - death cab for cutie, a lack of color

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Angst, sort of

Word count: 9K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: Please don’t hate me. Takes place a week after Helping Hands. If you want to yell at me with other readers after you're done , you can do so on the Discord channel.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "a lack of color“ by death cab for cutie

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

The ER is quiet today - too quiet.

Nari tries to ignore the giggles and whispers that are permeating the sanitizer whiteness of the room, and concentrates on the breath sounds of the patient on the bed before her. She’s come in complaining vaguely of “chest pains” but it’s mildly frustrating; Nari can’t hear anything except absolutely normal breath sounds and heartbeats.

“Show me where you’re feeling the pain again?” she asks kindly, watching closely as the girl - a kid probably in her early twenties - frowns and gestures largely at the front of her torso.

“Just… everywhere,” she answers unhelpfully.

Nari frowns slightly, not wanting to alarm her patient while a variety of scenarios start flipping through her mind as to why her chest sounds perfectly normal, not dismissing the possibility that her stethoscope is damaged.

She glances up at the girl’s friends, two similar looking girls who seem least bothered about their friend’s situation. Instead, they’re on their phones, exchanging grins and excitedly whispering, nudging the girl on the bed to look at something on their screens.

“Just - give me a moment. I’ll be right back.” Nari walks away calmly and doesn’t stop until she reaches the front desk of the ER. She leans over to the first year resident who’s manning the desk for the day.

“Hey, have you seen Dr Kang or… Cheon or… anyone else?” she asks. “I need a consult.”

“Oh, um, I think they’re all in surgery…” The resident checks a large board behind her. “Yeah, won’t be out for a while. Anything I can help with?” she asks quickly.

Nari nods, empathising with the annoyance of having to answer phones in the ER in place of practising medicine. “I have a case of chest pain - female, early twenties, otherwise seemingly healthy. Her breath sounds, heart beat and EKG are completely normal and she can’t seem to pinpoint any singular area of pain. Can you do some research to understand what this could be?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah, of course -“ She retrieves a notebook from her pocket and flips through it vigorously. “I’m sure I can find something -“

They’re interrupted momentarily by another sound of furious whispering - a group of medical student interns pass by them, giggling in hushed tones.

“Not to sound old or anything, but I swear we were more professional at that age,” mutters Nari, shaking her head.

“I kind of get it, though,” says the resident, shrugging apologetically. “It’s not every day there’s an idol somewhere in the hospital.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Like a k-pop idol? Here?”

“Uh-huh. It’s all super secret and high profile, though. He’s in the VIP section and has bodyguards everywhere.”

“Wow. That explains a lot. Anyway, let me know if you find something on the chest -“ Nari pauses abruptly, something clicking. She turns around slowly to look at the girl with the mysterious chest pains, sitting up straight on her bed and whispering with her friends.

“You know what,” she says instead, turning to the resident. “It’s a slow day. Why don’t you take over my patient instead?” she offers.

The resident’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Make sure to really ask her a lot of questions,” adds Nari. As the resident hurries away, pulling on her lab coat, Nari stops her. “By the way… who’s the idol?”

“Oh. Nobody knows.” The resident shrugs. “Rumour is that it’s someone from BTS.”

—

Nari waits outside the entrance of the VIP section, watching as one of the bulky bodyguards slips inside the private hospital room, presumably to ask the said BTS member if he knows and would be okay to see a Dr Choi Nari.

It’s a fifteen percent chance it’s Seokjin. If it’s any of the others, it will be a pleasant run-in. If it’s him… it occurs to Nari for the first time that he might not actually want to see her.

Just as she begins processing this possibility, the bodyguard pokes the upper half of his body outside the room and waves at her to enter.

Her heart leaping slightly, she saunters down the corridor silently, ignoring the two surely-vetted nurses giving her bewildered looks as she pushes open the door.

“Hey.” Seokjin, in a hospital gown, looks tired yet relieved. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Yeah?” Nari takes a few steps towards the bed, hands in the pocket of her lab coat, noting that he seems okay, except for an IV in his forearm and one of his feet elevated on a cushion. “You know where I work. Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

He purses his lips hesitantly. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” he says lightly. “I thought… this might one of those times where lack of privacy would actually come in handy.”

She nods, waiting for the heaviness in her chest to reappear, but it doesn’t. “It did. What happened to you?”

“Oh.” He seems to remember why he’s here. “Um… twisted my ankle. And our regular doctor is out sick today. Irony,” he adds in a soft sing-song voice, grinning when he realises they've done it in unison.

“M-hm. Who’s your doctor here?”

“Uh… Park something. Park Naeun.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Head of the department?” She taps his foot with her pen, ignoring his dramatic gasp of pain. “Must be some twisted ankle.”

“That hurt!”

“No, it didn’t,” she says, giving him a look when his face immediately drops to normal. She points at his chart hooked at the bottom of his bed. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. You don’t have to ask.”

“Yeah, I do. Patient information is confidential and I’m not your doctor.”

Seokjin nods slowly but his expression is clear. Nari waits for him to say what she thinks he’s about to but then decides she doesn’t want him to.

She flips through the chart. “Your vitals seem fine. BP is a bit low…” Automatically, she pulls her stethoscope from the pockets of her lab coat and puts it on. “Sit up?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow but obeys. Keeping the chart down, Nari places a hand on his shoulder and gently presses the chest piece to his chest. “Take a deep breath,” she murmurs, listening closely, frowning when his heart speeds up slightly. She moves to his back. “Lean forward a bit?”

He does so, and the hospital gown falls from his chest to his waist. His skin feels warm where Nari places the chest piece on his back. “Slightly tachycardic. You’re dehydrated, Kimbap.”

“Bingo,” he says, sounding tired again. Up close, he looks paler. But his eyes look more full of life than Nari has seen them in a while. She frowns curiously for a moment before realising it’s the first time she’s called him Kimbap in months.

In order to break the silence, heavy with meaning, she places the back of her hand on his forehead. “You’re feverish. And you look thinner,” she adds, stepping away. “Have you been eating properly?”

He chuckles pointedly. “Hello, pot. I’m kettle.”

A smile flits across her face. “Shut up. I’m serious.”

“Airplane food is shit.”

“Even business class?”

“Absolutely. And touring is tiring.”

Nari nods, placing the chart back. There’s nothing much for her to do; rest and fluids are all he needs and both are taken care of for now. She hesitates, wondering if she should leave. A moment later, she takes a seat on the chair next to his bed.

Seokjin doesn’t try to hide his smile. “Don’t have surgery to get to?”

“It’s a slow day.” She nudges his bed lightly with her foot. “How have you been?”

Seokjin’s smile fades slightly, and his eyes fall. Nari bites her lip; it’s only been a week, but it feels like forever ago. Standing inches away from each other, his cheekbones under her fingers, his palpable desperation followed by clear, transparent realisation.

Despite that, it’s the first time in months that she’s been around him without wanting to cry. Talking with him is easier. Being around him feels like it used to. The truth is out there, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest.

“Okay. Been thinking a lot,” he says, glancing up at her.

She nods. She wants to ask more, but looking at his pale face and clammy forehead, she decides not to. Not while there’s a chance of delirious answers.

“Where’s Seulgi?”

His face falls. “Oh, crap. I should call her.” He reaches over to his bedside table and picks up his phone, only to see a black screen. “Damn it.”

“You should let your people know to let her in,” says Nari, taking his phone from him and plugging it in to charge behind the bedside table. “They’re fairly intimidating.”

He half-chuckles. “And yet here you are.”

“The whole hospital’s talking about a famous idol here somewhere. Had to check out the rumour for myself.”

“Good to know.” He turns to check that his phone is charging and sits back. “She’s gone to see her parents in Busan,” he says after a moment. “So I don’t think I’ll see her. I fly out the day after tomorrow,” he adds, answering her silent question.

“Oh. You may not be in a state to,” she tells him, pointing to the IV in his forearm.

“Don’t have a choice.” He sighs and closes his eyes, placing his other arm over them. His chest looks white, not a single bit of loose flesh anywhere. But she knows better than to argue with his schedule.

“Keep a water bottle on you at all times. One with a carabiner that you can hook onto your bag.” She clicks her tongue. “There is no way that this is the first time I’m telling you this.”

“Okay, Dr Choi,” he mutters, not moving.

She slaps his shoulder lightly. “I’m not kidding. You’re making yourself sick. You look like a ghost, Kimbap.”

“On the plus side, my hair game has never been stronger.”

She reaches over and ruffles his hair until he slaps her hand away, laughing.

“Don’t be jealous, Nari,” he says loftily, delicately straightening his bangs along his forehead.

“I’m not,” she says honestly.

He gives her a small smile but says nothing. “Thanks for coming,” he says after a moment. “Truth be told… I don’t feel that great.”

Nari wonders if she’s imagining the double meaning, or if she simply wants to. The look on his face at the restaurant opening when she’d finally told him, in as many words as she could, how she felt; it had simultaneously broken her heart and renewed hope because now he knew.

Part of her had expected their lingering desperation at maintaining a friendship to die a feeble death right then, but Seokjin seems to be genuinely glad she’s here right now. She searches, again, for the heaviness - but it has disappeared.

“‘Course I did,” she says softly, squeezing his hand. He squeezes it back, warm and dry, and Nari feels like crying. Not out of sadness, or heartbreak - but out of relief. There was a lack of colour in her life but it’s back now, clear, beautiful and messy.

“Nari, look… about -”

The door flies open and Dr Park Naeun stands at the doorway, youthful as ever in her late forties, with a sharp frown on her forehead.

“Dr Choi,” she states sternly. “I don’t remember assigning you on this case. Are you cleared to be here?” Without waiting for Nari’s response, she turns to Seokjin and her face softens. “I’m sorry, I was told you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“I’m not,” he says instantly, letting go of Nari’s hand. “Nari - er, Dr Choi,” he amends, glancing at her sheepishly, “is my oldest friend. No disturbance at all.”

Dr Park nods, still seeming a little unconvinced. “Alright. You should rest, though. Dr Choi - the ER isn’t going to run itself.”

Sensing her cue, Nari stands up, her hand brushing Seokjin’s. “Of course. Take care,” she says softly to him before walking past her boss and out of the hospital room.

—

Nari doesn’t stop by again except later that night to inform him she’s going home and checking his vitals once more. Seokjin stays motionless while she presses the chest piece of her stethoscope once more to his torso, soft and familiar fingers brushing against his skin. The medication makes his heart race but he tries not to show it, and he doesn’t exhale until she leaves the room.

He is discharged the next day; a shiny black SUV takes him back to the dorm, where all the members have elected to stay until the tour ends. It’s both convenient yet mildly chaotic; the only time any of them go back to their own apartments is when Dilara is in town, or if Jimin is to meet Sooah, or if Jungkook is entertaining one of his casual lady friends.

As it so happens, the only person in the house when Seokjin returns is Min Yoongi, eating a bowl of cereal at four pm in front of the television.

“Hey, you’re back,” he says unnecessarily. “When did - wait, why didn’t you tell any of us when you were coming back? We could’ve picked you up.”

Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “Not necessary. Everyone has enough going on.” He takes a seat next to Yoongi on the sofa and sighs, gratefully accepting the bowl of cereal and taking a large bite of choco flakes and cold milk. “Oh, God, that’s good,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I can get you a bowl,” offers Yoongi, heading to the kitchen when Seokjin nods. He brings back a plate with a bowl of cereal on it, along with toast and blueberry jam. “I know it’s carbs but you were sick - you need your energy.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about carbs right now,” agrees Seokjin, eagerly taking the plate and going straight for the toast, not emerging until he finishes an entire slice. “Jesus. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days.”

Yoongi nods, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. Yesterday was a bit shit but I woke up feeling pretty okay. Nari’s convinced it was the rest and fluids but I think it was the super comfortable hospital bed and jelly cups that did the trick.”

“You met Nari?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “How, uh, how is she?” he asks, sounding a bit guilty.

Seokjin is sure he’s recalling the disastrous not-date that occurred at the restaurant opening a week ago, but says nothing. Nari’s transparent embarrassment from that night doesn’t need to become public knowledge.

“She’s okay. It was kind of weird seeing her in work mode, but - but it was good,” he replies, realising as he says it, that for the first time in a long time, it actually was good. Maybe it was the fact that he was sick or that he hadn’t actually seen her smile at him in forever, but it was the closest he’d felt to her in months.

Kimbap. And maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t alone in it.

“Why are you smiling?”

“What?” Seokjin stares at his remaining cereal. “I’m -” About to deny it, he stops. “Okay, I need to get something off my chest.”

“Okay.” Yoongi mutes the television.

“I -” He takes a deep breath, not really sure where to begin. “Um… after the restaurant opening, when Nari was leaving…” He swallows, feeling his stomach squirm the same it has the entirety of the last week, every single time he thought about her and that night. “I think… Nari might have feelings for me.”

There’s a few moments of silence. When Yoongi doesn’t answer, Seokjin turns to him to see him looking back expectantly. “And?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Well…” Seokjin frowns.

Yoongi squints. “Please don’t tell me that’s news to you.”

Seokjin opens his mouth then closes it, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s not… news,” he admits. “But it’s confirmation. I didn’t think it was likely, not after the pregnancy scare and with that Jason guy… but I did wonder. Maybe,” he finishes, shrugging tiredly. “Kind of felt wrong to speculate once I got together with Seulgi,” he mutters.

“Does Seulgi know? Wait - what actually happened?” Yoongi asks instead.

“Nothing happened,” he clarifies immediately. “Not like that.” But it could have. Another second and I might have. “But… I mean, I would be deliberately obtuse if I didn’t see it now, right?”

Although it doesn’t answer his question, Yoongi tactfully doesn’t repeat it. “But you said everything was good with her yesterday?”

“That’s just it.” Seokjin pounces on what’s been going through his head for the last twenty-four hours. “It’s been a nightmare for almost a year and then suddenly it’s… we’re back to normal. Kind of.” He shakes his head. “I kept thinking it might have made it worse, having it out in the open. But it isn’t. It’s like a switch flipped.” I got my best friend back, he thinks, and a part of his heart soars.

“What does Seulgi think?” When Seokjin doesn’t answer, Yoongi sits back on the couch, still observing his friend. “Does she know about this new development at all?”

“It’s complicated,” he mutters. “I don’t even know what this development is.” He catches Yoongi’s knowing look. “I’m serious. It was, like, fifteen minutes in total and it was… normal. If anything, the last few months were a development. This is the default.”

Seokjin is mildly aware he’s rambling now, especially when Yoongi conspicuously utters nothing. It’s just as well; he’s run out of ways to explain the situation. There are no appropriate words to describe the wave of emotions he’d experienced since last week, beginning with shock and solace that Nari was finally communicating with him, stress and fear that this may just have pushed her away for good, and a numbing relief when she’d shown up yesterday.

He wishes he’d hugged her. He wishes she’d stayed longer, or that stupid Dr Park hadn’t told her to leave. He wishes he knew what she was going through last week, if she was truly as relaxed as she seemed, if her confession really had been as cathartic for her to make as it had been for him to hear.

“Do you think you can travel tomorrow?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence.

“What? Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Seokjin shifts on the sofa, running a hand over his face. “It should be fine.”

Tomorrow. It seems too soon now, now that there’s so much to leave behind in Seoul. She was happy. It was, at the crux of it, the detail that sticks in his mind. He imagines the weight off her chest, imagines her expecting something from him, imagines telling her what she wants to hear. It could get complicated, for certain, but the thought of it doesn’t tire him the way it used to.

“Hey, you know what?” Seokjin asks, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “That night, when Nari was leaving the party, she said you were… kissing someone?”

Yoongi goes very still. “She told you about that?” he asks, and there’s a bite to his tone.

“Well… she was upset,” he says hastily. “I don’t think she knew it was a secret… is it a secret?” he asks hesitantly, not wanting to overstep.

Yoongi is silent for a moment longer. “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” he mutters, and that’s enough to indicate that the topic is closed.

Later that evening, as he drives to the Big Hit building, Yoongi finds himself regretting being so abrupt with Seokjin.

But there is nothing to tell. He didn’t lie. There has been virtually no contact with Miso since that night, and he hasn’t been able to come up with a single appropriate way to begin conversation. Hey, I just want to skirt around the awkwardness of kissing you in a coat closet right after you admitted your psychotic mother has a habit of stealing men from you, so how’s it going? I miss you.

It was variations of this until Yoongi gave up, choosing to give her space and time to process everything and let the ball be in her court for once.

Even when he reaches the floor, he makes sure to only wave at her while she’s standing with Donghyuk and a couple of other people before ducking into his own studio. He stays there for a while, distractedly flipping through his files and trying to remember why exactly he’d come in today at all.

After a few minutes, he decides he needs a cigarette, taking the elevator to the terrace and stepping out into the pleasant evening air.

He lights his first cigarette and takes a deep drag, closing his eyes when the door creaks open behind him.

“They don’t let you smoke on tour?”

Yoongi doesn’t move. “They’d probably have a heart attack if I did. Although my make-up artist joins me for a secret one once in a while.”

“Clandestine smoke breaks feel different,” she agrees, slipping out her own pack and placing a cigarette between her lips. Yoongi reaches forward and lights it for her, and her eyes look brown in the brightness of the flame.

Miso breathes it in and lets the smoke out without flinching. “Didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”

“You didn’t?”

“Yeah… weren’t you in Europe or something this week?” She frowns. “The flying must be playing havoc with your system.”

She means the tour. Yoongi nods a little belatedly. “I guess. I’m used to it. I sleep when I can. How are you?” he ask after a moment.

“Same as always.” Miso takes another drag before giving him a side glance. “Also… I just want to move on from the whole… weirdness of our - of us, you know, kissing in the aftermath of my whole word vomit about my demented mother going after men far too young for her.” She exhales, having said everything in one breath.

Yoongi stares at her, blinking wordlessly before he realises she’s expecting a response from him. “Oh, hey… don’t worry. No weirdness whatsoever.”

She gives him a small smile and leans back against the railing he’s looking over, the city of Seoul lit up under them. Their shoulders brush and Yoongi tries to grasp at anything to keep the conversation going. “Um, so… how are things with - with you and your mom?”

Miso frowns slightly, as though she hadn’t expected this question. “As good as they’ll ever be? We’ve successfully ignored each other all week,” she explains, half-chuckling.

Yoongi doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe; it’s not a common cue to take, so he simply nods. She seems a bit jittery; the last time he’d seen her like this, it was almost a year ago at her house, the first glimpse he’d gotten a peek into her life. He’s about to reach for her hand which is holding the cigarette and tapping absently at the railing, but at that moment she raises her hand to take another drag.

“Anyway, I, uh…” She clears her throat and taps the cigarette, ash falling on the ground, “I’m just glad we didn’t… I mean, you don’t have to feel like… God, it was a weird night,” she sighs awkwardly. “But it doesn’t have to… go anywhere. We can just go back to normal.”

Unlike her, Yoongi doesn’t look away. “Truth be told, I’m not really sure what normal is with us.”

Looking at the ground, Miso half-chuckles again, without humour. She’s wearing full sleeves again, despite a mostly warm day. Beige sleeves and a dark t-shirt on top; her skin looked white against it, like porcelain.

“I know,” she admits, flicking ash again. “But I’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be… anything different. Whatever normal is.” She shrugs and when Yoongi doesn’t respond, she looks up. “I’m just saying… it was a long night. I was on edge, surrounded by my mother and her friends and you… and everyone was hungry because they took forever to serve dinner…” She exhales, and grey smoke comes out of her nostrils. “Nothing… really happened.”

Yoongi stares at her, his face making no movement whatsoever for he finally feels as though she’s reaching the point. “What?”

Miso gazes at him, pursing her lips. It feels as though she’s reading him, trying to gauge what his question is referring to. She takes a last, deep drag and finishes her cigarette. “This is a good thing, Yoongi,” she says at last, stamping out the butt. “You got a look into the shitshow and… you’re getting out ahead.” She gives him a small, forced smile. “You’re off the hook,” she says in English, the unfamiliar accent jarring.

She moves to leave while Yoongi stays frozen to the spot, his stomach sinking slowly. Then, as though jerked out of a trance, he extinguishes his cigarette against a metal pipe on the side and drops the butt, turning around and catching up to her in a few steps.

“I’m off the hook?” he repeats, voice low and sticking to Korean.

She doesn’t look too surprised that he’s stopped her, but her forced nonchalance wobbles slightly. “Well, the proverbial hook.”

“Yeah? What hook is that?”

“The hook that pegged you to kiss me in a coat closet after I… dumped my mommy-trauma on you.” She shakes her head. “There was a lot going on and I don’t… I’m not expecting anything from you. Not for that.”

Yoongi bites his lip. “So… I’m off the hook for the spur-of-the-moment kiss we shared after I assured you that you can trust me.”

Miso’s eyes flicker momentarily but she reverts to her blasé expression instantly. “The words sound like you get me, but your tone is throwing me off,” she says wryly.

He takes a step closer to her. “You are,” he mutters tightly, his hand clenching into a fist, “the single most uniquely frustrating person I have ever met.”

“I don’t understand why you’re getting annoyed with me,” she replies, but Yoongi doesn’t believe her, scoffing and turning away. “You want this, believe me.” When he doesn’t answer, she folds her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you a dozen times not to get involved. I don’t know why you’re still trying to.”

“You know, I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself,” he snaps, walking past her and out of the terrace. He catches a glimpse of her just as the elevator doors close and he bristles; there’s no doubt, guilt or anger on her face. It’s an expression he’s seen numerous times before, annoying him more each time: the one of being proven right.

—

Donghyuk [21:15] Going out with some of the prods in a bit. Drinks on BH. You in?

Yoongi [21:16] Don’t think so. Too much to get done.

Donghyuk [21:16] Sure? Kim Namjoon’s coming too. Probably.

Yoongi [21:17] You asked him?

Donghyuk [21:17] Not yet.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, although Namjoon might just agree to go. Anything to get his mind off his girl.

Yoongi [21:18] Raincheck. In the zone right now.

Donghyuk replies with an irrelevant emoji but doesn’t push. Yoongi locks his phone and stares at the wide screens in front of him. A part of him had planned to return to the dorm tonight to give Seokjin some company; something about how deep in thought the older member had been earlier today was throwing Yoongi off. Seokjin didn’t divulge much, but Yoongi had a feeling he might want to just this once.

There’s also the added bonus of a hot meal most likely awaiting him at the dorm, for when Seokjin was stressed, he tended to cook.

Yoongi [21:25] Hyung. Need me to pick up anything for dinner?

Seokjin [21:27] Not for me. I’m probably going out.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at this unexpected response, his stomach rumbling sadly. But he ignores it, reaching for his half empty pack of cigarettes and debating another smoke break, when his studio door opens without permission and he turns, his heart skipping an automatic beat.

Miso pokes her head in, expressionless. “Donghyuk’s leaving. He asked me to check if you want to schedule the demo with that rookie girl group tomorrow at noon.”

Yoongi turns back around. “Sure. Anything else?”

She hesitates. “That Chinese place you recommended sucks, by the way. Their portion sizes are deceptively huge and now I’m stuck with enough Kung Pao chicken to feed a small army,” she states in mild exasperation before leaving.

The door swings shut behind her. Yoongi scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. Uniquely frustrating. Everything had to be an argument, and every argument had to be won by her, even if it was about an excess of Kung Pao chicken.

He checks his pack to see about half a dozen cigarettes left, when something clicks. He pauses and, on cue, his stomach rumbles again.

Grabbing his phone and the smokes, Yoongi stands up and heads out of his studio, making a beeline down the corridor for Donghyuk's. He can smell the food even before he pushes the door open.

Miso looks up when he enters, not looking entirely surprised, but - he notes with caution - her shoulders relax as though in relief. Four boxes of food are on the console table in front of her while she unpacks the chopsticks. As he takes a seat next to her mutely, she unpacks the last items in the bag: two cans of lemonade. She slides one over to him and he catches it.

“Thanks.”

She nods, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “I’ve heard the food’s not bad.”

“So have I. I didn’t know about the lemonade on their menu, though.” He takes a sip and swallows it slowly, wincing slightly at the tartness. “Not bad.”

Miso, her can unopened in front of her, observes him thoughtfully before bending over the other side of her chair and retrieving two cans of Budweiser Premium. She offers one to him, eyebrows raised.

“Are we allowed alcohol in here?” he asks mildly, taking the can anyway.

“No idea.”

“Not afraid of getting caught?”

She hitches one leg on the edge of her chair and pops her can open, taking a long sip. “What are they going to do? Fire me?”

Nope. Not daddy’s nepo princess.

A year ago, Yoongi would’ve said it out loud. The arrogance of her statement would have struck him in his very core, except now he can only detect apathy in it. What’s the worst they can do? Fire me?

He opens his own can and takes a sip, the cold beer feeling incredible in his chest. “God, I feel healed.”

The corner of her mouth lifts and she reaches over, and they clink their cans together. “Cheers.”

As they eat, Yoongi finds himself more confused than ever. Not only did Miso, in her own twisted way, offer an olive branch and buy him dinner, but for the first time since he’s known her, she is initiating conversation.

“Are you allowed to drink on tour?” she asks him, curiously scooping some noodles into her paper bowl.

“Only as long as we’re not seen. And as long as it doesn’t make us put on weight or bloat or break out…” He shrugs. “So… no. Not really.”

“Is the company afraid your fans will get scandalized if they see you, an adult man, consuming alcohol?”

He cracks a smile. “Something like that.”

“Damn. How do you smoke?”

“I don’t, as much. I wait to come home and do it in peace.”

She grins and his heart catches. “Yeah? Dreaming about the Big Hit terrace while sailing around the world?”

“You have no idea. Sometimes I wake up smelling instant coffee and cornflakes.”

“A man so loyal to his work,” she says dryly, chuckling when he waves a hand in mock-embarrassment. “Big Hit is so lucky to have you.”

“They make me do a lot more dancing than I ever signed up for, so… you know what? They kind of are,” he agrees, smiling when she laughs. “Damn, this is good beer.”

Without being asked, she hands him another one, and their fingers brush on the cold can. Their eyes meet for a fraction of a second before Miso lets go and leans back, busying herself with something else. Yoongi glances at her as he absently bites down on a mushroom, wanting to bring up their earlier encounter today, last week and all the preceding weeks - but it’s not a good idea. Not during this precarious time of… he isn’t even sure what to call it.

“How come you didn’t go out with Donghyuk and the guys?”

“Work,” he answers simply. “How come you didn’t?”

“Work, I guess. And I had all this food to finish,” she reminds him, gesturing to the half a dozen boxes on the table. “You’re only back for a couple days, though. How come you don’t want to, you know…” She does an awkward wave with her shoulders. “... party?”

Yoongi stifles a chuckle. “Someone had to help you finish all this food. Apparently it’s my fault there’s so much of it.”

“It is. But the food is actually quite… not bad,” she adds generously. “How’d you know about this place?”

“Oh, I, uh… I used to deliver for them,” he confesses, nodding when she raises her eyebrows in surprise. “It’s been a few years, but… there was this one apartment over in Hongdae that ordered in from there almost every single day. A couple of roommates, fresh out of college, I think,” he recalls. “I asked them once about it and they said they worked long hours and ordering in from here was what kept them going.”

“Wow.” Miso is quiet for a moment. “So you started eating from here, too?”

“Once I could afford it, yeah.” He catches her eye but she lowers her eyes, almost as if ashamed. “The shrimp fried rice is the best thing on the menu, though.”

She nods, glancing up at him. “Noted. For next time.”

Yoongi’s heart soars unexpectedly before his mind forces their disagreement on the terrace to the forefront of his mind.

“I didn’t know you delivered food,” she says after a moment.

“Mhm. It’s also when I learned to pick a lock, because these kids in one of the Gangnam neighbourhoods would lock people’s bicycles for fun,” he tells her, rolling his eyes.

“What? Why?”

“Who knows.” He tosses his empty bowl on the table and stretches back in his chair. “Dumb, rich kids with nothing better to do,” he mutters, looking up at the ceiling. When he glances back down at her, it’s to see her quietly cleaning up, her hair covering the side of her face.

Yoongi starts to say something but thinks the better of it, instead helping her clear the table.

“Tell me something about you,” he says a little while later, as they share a single serving of chocolate mousse. “Not your parents or your… driver or whoever. You.”

Miso raises her eyebrows, looking a little startled at the question; it’s clear that it’s not something she gets asked too often.

“I don’t know. I’m really not that interesting.”

He gives her a look. “I told you about being a delivery boy. Interesting isn’t the criteria here.”

“Fine.” She purses her lips and frowns, apparently thinking. “Okay, I have one. Ready?”

“On the edge of my seat.”

A smile flits across her face. “Okay… I’m red-green colourblind.” She shrugs hugely, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Huh. Really?” Yoongi wasn’t expecting that. “So, can you…”

“I can,” she confirms. “I wear contact lenses so I can pretty much see everything normally. But, yeah. That’s something about me.”

“Have you - sorry, this might be a stupid question -“ He raises a hand and she waves her own, permitting him to ask. “Have you always had it?”

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s genetic,” she adds. “My mother used to take me to the optometrist in secret, as if she was afraid that my father would explode at a reminder of a weakness,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “Actually, that seems pretty on brand for him.”

Yoongi frowns. “But if it’s genetic…”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have it,” she confirms. “Neither does my mother, which means she’s a carrier.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not something we talk about. Ever.”

She says it in a matter-of-fact way, as though it’s the most understandable thing in the world for her own issues to take a backseat to her egocentric father’s insecurities.

Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “So it’s your little secret?”

“Kind of. Strange to think about,” she agrees. She is quiet for a moment. “She really did seem to care that I had the best possible doctors and specialists and whatnot.” She shudders. “It’s like a fever dream.”

He doesn’t know how to react to this so he follows her cue and returns her wry smile. “I saw a picture of you as a kid at your house. You were a cute kid.”

Miso narrows her eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Where are you going with this?”

“Nothing. Just picturing you holding your mother’s hand, going to the optometrist.” He grins when she rolls her eyes. “You did say she took you in secret.”

“Well, she and Seungkwan,” she amends. “Not that we ever discussed it with him but I’m pretty sure he guessed.”

This is news. Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? And he never told your father?”

A faint smile appears on Miso’s face. “It’s a dangerous thing to be that loyal to my father. Some things are better left ignored.”

He senses something else in her words, but doesn’t ask. He remembers her driver vaguely; somehow, he appears everywhere she is, whenever she needs him.

“Well, I can keep your secret,” he promises her, leaving the last bite of the mousse and handing it to her.

Her smile widens as she takes it from him. “I know,” she says. “I trust you.”

Yoongi holds her gaze for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Miso’s smile fades. “Yoongi…” She trails off when he drops his head, suddenly tired. She begins again. “You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s ever apologised to me,” she tells him.

She waits until he meets her eyes again, and he’s slightly startled at how sorry she looks. He struggles for a moment to recall what she’s talking about, the memories of the aftermath of the launch party crawling to the forefront of his mind.

“That isn’t -“

“I’m just saying… It seems okay now. Now,” she repeats. “But you really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not talking about my parents,” she says quickly when he opens his mouth. “I’m saying…” She sighs. “Yoongi, I don’t think I can give you what you want. I don’t know how.”

Yoongi says nothing; his throat feels stuck and he worries that if he speaks, his voice might break. It doesn’t feel like a rejection, but he also can’t find a way to respond. Once again, she’s won the argument.

They leave soon after that, once they clean up in silence and Yoongi takes out the trash while Miso closes down Donghyuk’s studio. He walks her to the elevator, both of them walking beside each other with just enough distance between them to not touch.

I don’t know how. It bothers him more than he’d like to admit, and he can’t tell if it’s because of her fucked up parents or her general tendency to keep a distance that she believes she’s incapable of genuine human connection.

When they reach the elevator and she reaches up to press the button, his eyes fall on her wrist and he wants, once again, to grab it and push her sleeve up her forearm. The bruise he’d seen all those months ago feels like a siren he’d ignored; it makes him sick to think about another potential one on her wrist right now.

The doors open, Miso glances at him hesitantly. “I don’t know about you… but I actually had a good time tonight.” She nods once. “Thanks, Yoongi.”

He slips his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Thanks for what?”

“You know…” She steps in between the doors to stop them from closing and turns to face him. “Helping me out… with the Kung Pao chicken and everything,” she finishes, her mouth lifting up at the corners. By the way she bites her lip, he knows his own face is betraying at least a hint of humour. Or maybe it’s exasperation, or annoyance, or infatuation, or everything at once.

“Your driver… Seungkwan?” He waits for her to nod. “He’s here?”

“Downstairs,” she confirms.

Take care. Call me if you need anything. Call me if you don’t need anything, too.

“See you around, Miso.” He waves mechanically and it immediately feels ridiculous.

She frowns curiously but mimics his awkward wave. “Bye.” She takes a step back into the elevator and presses the button, and he takes a similar step further back. She gives him a small smile as the doors start to close.

Yoongi starts to walk back towards his studio, noting the elevator only in his peripheral vision. As he leaves, the image of her on the terrace comes back to him; through another set of closing elevator doors, her look of mild satisfaction, almost expectant.

It only takes a fraction of a second; Yoongi turns on the spot and hurries back to the elevator, slipping through just before the doors close fully.

“Whoa.” Miso jerks back slightly, but doesn’t look annoyed “What are you doing?” she asks as he steps towards her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you again,” he assures her dryly, ignoring the look she gives him and reaching over to wrap her in a hug. He waits a moment, and then two, and then relaxes when he feels her arms go stiffly around his waist.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She smells of lilies and cigarette smoke. “But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere,” he promises her, closing his eyes and meaning every word of it.

It takes another moment but she tightens her arms around him. Her fingertips brush his shoulders and - he hopes he’s not imagining this - he feels her smile against his collarbone.

They step away from each other a few seconds later when the doors start to open. There’s a tinge of pink on her cheeks he’s never seen before. She hitches her bag on her shoulders as she exits.

“Don’t be such a sap, Min Suga.” But the blush says differently, as does the small smile she visibly struggles and fails to hide.

Yoongi grins at her, wide and gummy, feeling lighter and taller all at once. He’s made a decision, and now she’s in on it, too.

—

It’s almost close to dinner time, but for once Seokjin isn’t hungry.

His phone stares at him from where he’d tossed it on the futon a few minutes ago, the screen painfully dark. He was trying to spare himself the temptation of checking it every second, but this isn’t any better.

After staring at it for a few more seconds, he reaches for it and replays the voicemail he’d sent to Nari over an hour ago.

“Hey. It’s me. Seokjin. Er, Kim Seokjin. I got discharged and I’m home. I hydrated, too, like you said. Still am, in fact. You may have been onto something, Dr Choi. Anyway… thanks for coming yesterday. It really meant a lot and I’m… God, I can’t tell you how good it was to hang out with you again. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it. And… I do want to talk about last week. I know things have been really weird with us for a while but I don’t want them to be anymore. I’ve been thinking a lot this last week - I can’t help it, I’ve tried to stop, believe me. I’ve been way too afraid to lose you as a friend. I’d be lost without you, Nari. But… I may have been overcompensating on that front. I don’t know where this leaves us, but I want to figure it out. With you. Not in my own head, the way I’ve been doing it this whole time. I’m flying out tomorrow, but do you think we could talk tonight? Coincidentally, I have everything needed to whip up jajjangmyeon, too. Just throwing that in there. Let me know. Oh, this Seokjin.”

There’s a click to signal the end of the message, but Seokjin’s stomach churns more than ever, though not necessarily in a bad way. He’s officially entered the ring, albeit to do what, he isn’t completely sure. All he knows is that there’s no ignoring this anymore, the uncomfortable distance with Nari, the subtle hostility between her and Seulgi, the distaste with which he thinks of Kang Jason at the oddest times.

Nari hasn’t replied or called him back yet, but he tries not to stress about it. Most likely, she’s in surgery, or the ER, or even catching up on sleep in an on-call room. He’s determined to stay up all night, though; he can sleep on the flight tomorrow.

Automatically, his eyes fall to the last message he’d sent to Seulgi. Hey. I was hoping we could talk. Call me when you’re free?

She had replied a little while ago. Sure. Everything okay?

Seokjin didn’t have a response to that, so he’d sent her a skull emoji instead, hoping that would do the trick.

He wishes he wasn’t touring right now. There’s a better way to do this: with Seulgi, in person, thorough and rational - and then with Nari, slow and gentle, giving her space and control.

But he has one day - no, one night - before he leaves once more for weeks, with all three of them left to stew in their own thoughts for that time. Sure, he can call - but calls can be ignored. So can messages, and voicemails, and then before he knows it, he’s back in Seoul, tired and jet lagged only to find out that the situation has progressed, leaving him completely out of the loop.

After considering it for a minute, he picks up the phone and calls Seulgi. Fortunately, she picks it up on the second ring.

“Hey,” she says, panting slightly. “I went out for a run; I was just about to call you. What’s up?”

“Um -“ He bites his lip. “Not - not much. How are you? How are your folks?”

“They’re good. Mum’s asking when she can meet you but I deflected that,” she adds, but there’s a knowing lilt to her voice. “You have enough going on right now.”

Do I ever. “I appreciate that. I just wanted to talk before I fly out tomorrow.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could’ve been there. You barely get any time off as it is and even when you do, I’m not in town.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He picks at a loose thread on the corner of the sofa. “You don’t have to accommodate your family plans around my crazy schedule. And I’ll be back again soon.”

“Can’t wait.” She pauses. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asks, apparently done with small talk. “You seemed serious.”

It’s not serious, he’s about to say, but stops himself. “It’s… it’s about Nari. We kind of… ran into each other.”

There’s another pause, a longer one this time. “Okay. When?”

“Yesterday, when she visited me at the hospital. I wasn’t expecting -“

“You were in the hospital?” She interrupts him, tone suddenly anxious.

He freezes. “Yeah, but it - it wasn’t serious. I was dehydrated, that’s all. I don’t even know why they took me to the hospital, honestly. I’m back home now.”

Her next response is instant. “But Nari knew?”

“I - only because it was her hospital. And I didn’t tell her - she found out.” He waits for her to respond. “Seulgi, it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t here - I didn’t want to worry you. I’m perfectly fine, really.”

There’s another pause and then she sighs deeply. “Okay. Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

Oh, boy. “Kind of. Well, no. I…” He sighs. “God, I really wish we were doing this in person,” he mutters.

“Wait. Are you -“ She scoffs, but it breaks slightly. “Are you breaking up with me? Over the phone?”

“No! No, I’m not. Look, I think I need to talk to Nari,” he says quickly before he loses his nerve. “It’s been a long time and I… I really need to know what’s going on. But I want you to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Where do I start? “I mean, you know what it’s been like. But it’s just been too long - and I think she might be ready to talk to me, too. I have to try and fix it with her… I hope you understand why, Seulgi,” he adds, meaning it and already feeling horrendous.

“But I thought she was mad at you.” Seulgi is calm - too calm, and it’s worrying. “Or something. What’s changed?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” It’s not a complete lie. I think she might have feelings for me based on a moment we shared a week ago, where neither of us actually spoke. Not only did it sound insane, it didn’t actually clarify anything. There was no point bringing it up when he wasn’t sure of it either.

“So…” She takes a deep breath on the other end. “Let me get this straight. She’s been evasive and distant and - let’s face it - sort of pissed at you. And then something changed… and suddenly she’s nursing you back to health during a hospital visit that I’m finding out about now.”

Seokjin closes his eyes. “I know it sounds bad,” he murmurs. “And I know it’s my fault it’s so messed up. I don’t… If I think back, I don’t know where I went wrong, but I’m sure I did something. You know?” He bites his lip, suddenly glad he’s flying out tomorrow, far away from his girlfriend and his best friend where he can’t hurt them anymore. “I don’t want to be unfair to you,” he admits.

“Why do you think you are?” she asks quietly.

“I don’t know…” He runs a hand down his face tiredly. “There’s a lot of history there and baggage and stuff…” There's no telling what we’ll find.

“You know what I think, Seokjin?” she says after a few moments. “I think you’re not fully sure of what you want. Or you are,” she guesses, “and you just don’t want to admit it because if you do and you don’t get it, you’re afraid it’ll devastate you.”

Seokjin swallows. His vision blurs without warning and he blinks rapidly, a distinct memory threatening to surface, of hope being crushed in his chest, a life he’d dared to imagine disappearing before he’d even fully wrapped his head around it. He’d repressed it as best as he could, figuring there was no one to blame but himself for this lapse in judgement, but it had inadvertently set actions in motion that he will regret for a long time.

He’s taking too long to respond, he realises, but he’s afraid to speak. It might all boil down to that one night and the thought of what it meant - of what it might still mean - is too overwhelming to think about.

“I’m glad you don’t want to be unfair to me,” she states, and there’s finally a bite to her tone. “So call me when you figure it out.” She hangs up.

Seokjin stays frozen for a minute before he sighs, tossing his phone back on the sofa and dropping his head in his hands. Suddenly, everything about his relationship with Seulgi feels tainted, now that his mind is involuntarily tracing the timeline of events back to the day he met her, and then ran into her again. She was lovely and calm and straightforward and put together - and he was so tired.

He needs to talk to Nari. He needs to. His mind is blocked and so is his heart, and it’s occurring to him now that it all comes to Nari. Everything comes down to Nari.

He’d been vague but he can’t imagine she would simply ignore his message, not unless she absolutely hated him. She didn’t, though, his brain reasoned.

She’d visited him, actually talked with him, and she’d called him Kimbap. She would call. Even if she couldn’t meet him, she would call, or text. All he has to do is wait.

—

Nari takes off her lab coat and shakes her hair out, glad to be done with the day.

“See you tomorrow, Nari,” says one of her friends, a perky first year resident with the kind of confidence Nari could only dream of. “Say hi to your famous friend for me.” She winks and leaves.

Nari rolls her eyes but scoffs in humour. Somehow, the other residents in the surgical wing had caught wind of the fact that she knew the elusive celebrity idol that was admitted to the hospital yesterday and while she’d neither confirmed nor denied it, the story spread anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” comments Hyeri, her friend, changing out of her scrubs at the locker next door. “What did you take and can I have some?”

Nari frowns curiously and laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“That. The laughing and the smiling and the… being nice to first years and interns.” Hyeri raises her eyebrows. “We haven’t had the mental capacity for that shit in years.” She raises her eyebrows. “Is it actually because of your famous friend? I mean -” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “We’re talking about Seokjin, right?”

“I - yeah. He was here,” admits Nari. “Nothing serious, though. He got discharged today.”

“Oh.” Hyeri sounds surprised at the admission. “That makes sense. You’re relieved.”

Yes… and no. She’s certainly glad Seokjin’s okay, but despite how selfish it makes her feel, she’s even gladder that for the first time in a long time, she was able to be herself around her best friend. It’s definitely relief - Hyeri isn’t wrong about that.

“I can’t believe we’re actually out early enough to have dinner,” remarks Hyeri as they head out of the locker room, out of scrubs and in normal clothes again. “I’m going to get in the tub with a glass of wine and fall asleep in there. Obviously I’m not serious,” she adds quickly, catching Nari’s eye.

“Hey, no judgement. Add some candles while you’re at it and it’ll look like a Madonna video.”

Hyeri chortles. “I’m out of wine, though. Can you send me the number to that liquor store? The one that delivers?”

Nari nods, fishing her phone out of her bag. “Shit. My phone’s dead. Daeun has it, though - she’s the one who sent it to me.”

“Okay, let me - oh, there she is!” Waving hurriedly, Hyeri jogs towards the entrance to catch up with Daeun, another of their resident class who’s leaving for the night as well.

Nari smiles as she watches her friend dash away, and catches herself. The laughing and the smiling and the being nice to interns. It’s not a mystery, the origin of this brand new version of herself. It took a long time and a lot of frustration and courage, but a week after the fact, she knows she’s at a place with Seokjin that she was only hoping she would eventually reach.

It’s a start, she tells herself. It’s a start and irrespective of what happens next, at least it’s a start. She’s lighter and she’s calmer - sometimes, there are moments where she feels freer, as though the invisible chain that kept her tethered to her suppressed feelings has been cut through with a chainsaw.

She stops by the pharmacy in the lobby of the surgical wing to pick up some antiseptic for her first aid box. While the cashier rings up her purchase, she turns absently and spots Jason at the reception, still in scrubs and handing in a couple of patient charts. As he clicks his pen closed and tucks it in his pocket, he grins at something the nurse says and responds, making her laugh.

Grabbing her antiseptic, Nari walks over to him, smiling when he spots her.

“Hey.” He takes in her clothing? “Leaving already? I thought you were helping Dr Park with her trial research.”

Nari shrugs. “She gave me the night off.”

“Wow. Is she okay?”

“I’m not going to ask; I’m just taking the night,” she tells him. It’s a start. “What about you? Are you, uh, free tonight?”

Jason raises his eyebrows casually. “Uh, yeah. I have a couple of things to close out, but I can head out in a bit. Or I can meet you back at my apartment, too, if you want.”

“No, um…” She shakes her head and bites her lip. She hasn’t done this in… ever. “I meant, are you free… for a drink.”

He clearly notices the change in her tone. “A drink,” he repeats. “Just you and me. Like a…”

“M-hm.” Nari nods, but she doesn’t think he’ll say no. Familiarity builds over time, and Nari is suddenly seeing the world - and the people in it - in a newer light.

After a moment, Jason nods. “Absolutely. Just give me fifteen minutes?” He waits for her to nod as well and smiles, touching her elbow as he leaves.

She watches him go and her heart beats pleasantly fast with a small risk that’s paid off. She’s definitely lighter, brighter, calmer - and she can only route it back to the night of her confession to Seokjin. It felt like a start but maybe - just maybe - it was closure.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#seokjin x oc #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jin fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts suga angst #bts jin angst

64 notes · View notes

exrellian · 7 months

Text

MC Replaced AU

My first tumblr fic so please let me know if there is something I can do better or fix!! I will get better with time but I would love some advice! This will start like an average replaced AU but it will have a twist that I haven’t seen in any other fic

The first part is third person but it won’t remain that way! Also it is male MC (there aren’t enough male MC fics out there and it makes me sad)

TW: None for this one except some REALLY minor angst at the end!

Part 1

———————————————————————————

Welcome to the Devildom

A normal day, as normal as a day can be in the Devildom, the only slightly different thing was a meeting with Lord Diavolo scheduled for the first period at RAD.

“Do we all have to go to this meeting? Can’t MC just give me the rundown after school?”

“No Leviathan, Lord Diavolo made it clear we all have to be there.” Lucifer shoots a glare at the sulking envy demon. A mandatory meeting that required not only all the brothers to attend but also the exchange students, it must be something relatively important to require all the attendees.

The walk to RAD was average, mammon talking to MC, Satan reading as he walked and getting distracted by any stay cats he saw on the way, Leviathan playing a game on his phone, and Beel chowing down on some extra snacks.

Barbatos greeted the group at the door, welcoming them into the Student Council room where the angels already waited

“Hello everyone! I’m glad to see you all made it! I have a very special announcement to make today” As Diavolo started MC tilted his head

“I’m sorry to interrupt but you said we all made it but… Solomon isn’t here?”

“Solomon had business in the human world so he has returned for a few months and won’t be attending this years exchange program” Barbatos explained

“It is unfortunate but there is nothing we can do about it, work is work!” The lord gave his normal, joyful smile as he spoke “His absence does bring some good news though! We have accepted a new human exchange student!” As if purposely timed, a portal opened up and out shot a human girl, immediately MC noticed just how beautiful she was, long blonde hair, a perfect slim body, and the most beautiful blue eyes MC had ever seen.

“Where am I? Who are all of you!?” She looked around frantically, her eyes landing on MC, quickly running over to him “You look normal! What’s going on? Where am I!?” Her arms flung around MC, hiding from the demons

“Haha, please calm down hun, your not in any danger” MC smiled, trying to reassure the new girl

“I’m am glad you already seem to trust MC!” Diavolo laughs, crossing his arms “Welcome Amelia, to the Devildom, you have been chosen to participate in our exchange program at RAD. I am Diavolo, the prince of the Devildom, it is a pleasure to meet you” The new human, Amelia, seemed to relax a slight bit, enough to come out from hiding behind MC but still tightly grasping his hand

“Is this… hell? Are you all demons?”

“Technically, yes, this is hell and yes, we are demons” Lucifers replies, his presence intimidating as ever

“MC, Amelia will be staying in the House of Lamentation with you for the time being, keeping her with you may help her get accustomed to living here quicker, do you mind sharing a room with her?” Diavolo asked, but MC knew it wasn’t really a question, there was no answer other than yes

“Sure, I don’t mind, my room is definitely big enough for both of us” MC smiled, glancing over to see if Amelia was okay with this arrangement, by the small smile in her face it seemed she was content

“MC, Mammon, I want the two of you to show Amelia around and get her used to RAD and the House of Lamentation” Lucifer said, looking back and forth between Mammon and MC

“What? Why me!? Can’t MC do it alone? They have been here for like… two years! They know the place well enough!” Mammon complained, not really wanting anything to do with the new girl, he had MC! Why would he need another human?

The tour went… well

Amelia really likes Mammon

And it seems like he likes her a lot too.

Tags: @cutest-tenshi

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me angst #replaced MC #obey me x reader #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me Diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me Beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me Simeon #obey me Luke

132 notes · View notes

heiayen · 2 years

Text

helping you cheat on an exam - various x reader

tags: short headcanons, more comedic style, implied modern au? characters; kaeya, diluc, childe, zhongli, venti, scaramouche, itto, albedo

summary: would genshin characters help you cheat? or let you cheat from them? and if yes, should you even accept their help?

a/n: i don't know what to say except that this idea happened while talking in a server. and ayato was meant to be here but full offense to this guy i don't know how to write him lol have fun <3

Kaeya, despite all the rumours about him, is actually a great student! Very polite, good grades, it’s hard to not adore this boy. And he would never, ever cheat on an exam, simply because he just knows it all.

But he would let you cheat. Or help if you have different class or can’t sit close to each other. It would come with a price of having to deal with his teasing and other foolery.

Yes, he will tell you the answers. Yes, he will help you make the cheat sheet right before the exam. Yes, he will make fun of you (lovingly) and even give you wrong answers sometimes. Deal with it.

As the gentleman, Diluc would not help you cheat. It’s bad to cheat on exams and you can get into troubles if you get noticed. It’s just not worth it.

But he would help you study before the exam however! One complain from you in the morning about the tomorrow’s exam and the moment you finish classes, Diluc is right beside you, ready to study with you. And trust me, he really would try to make sure that you understand the material and can easily pass the exam without the use of cheats.

If you fail, however… that’s on you!

Look, don’t get me wrong, because Childe will gladly help you! But are you sure you want his help out of all people here? Because, really, he’s not the best person to cheat from.

He’s an average student with average grades but those grades are often just a lucky strike. Cheating from his in class is rather risky because, yes, he might just make a very good guess and answer the question right.. or he might pick the worst answer ever and earn not only himself but also you a scolding from the teacher who probably realized that you cheated anyway.

So the best thing you can do is to combine your knowledge and simply prepare some cheat sheets before class– or even better, the day before class so those sheets has actually good answers.

Zhongli is the class president, he can’t help you cheat. Sorry. Something something about rules and being responsible, about being caught, you know…

But just like Diluc, he will also help you study. He has all the notes you need, written with perfect handwriting, not a single topic missing. And he also has a very good studying plan! Literally the best person to study with! He will also review the topics with you before the exam, so he can be sure that you will pass. Just make sure you complain earlier than an hour before the exam.

And if you don’t pass… then it’s really on you.

Venti’s a good student unless it comes to exams. He’s just somehow… so bad at taking exams that no matter how many good grades he will get from all the essays and additional work and homework– all of this is shadowed by his exam grades.

But he’s good at distracting people! So while it won’t be wise to cheat from him, he will gladly distract the teacher somehow so you can take your tiny little cheat sheet and write down everything you need. He will even help you prepare it.

As for himself, he doesn’t care about cheating that much… if he manages to cheat, great! If he doesn’t, well, happens. Look, he just wants to pass…

Yeah, no. Scaramouche is not going to help you cheat. You’re on your own. Have fun!

He’s a good student so he doesn’t himself cheat much and he’s a good person to cheat from because he usually has most of the answers right, but… no, he just wouldn’t really let you. Or he would give you the wrong answer for fun. He can help you study though if you ask nicely… Different thing is how much you will learn from this study session.

He called the teacher on you once. It wasn’t an important exam– rather, a simple test but still. A tragedy. Really.

Please don’t ask Itto for help. For your own good. He’s… a student for sure and willing to help you cheat but, just, you see…

Most of the time he’s getting caught. The teacher saw him trying to read from behind his pencil case, from a shoe, on his arm… Asking him to help you cheat is like a death wish. Or a failed exam wish!

A good thing is that you can always use the distraction he created by getting caught to cheat yourself. At least this.

Albedo is a another very good student who needs no cheats to pass with flying colors. But in comparison to other good students, a bit more willing to help you cheat.

Yes, he will tell you that you shouldn’t cheat. Yes, he will help you study and trust me, studying from his notes is really an amazing experience. And, yes, if you really need the answer to this one question or two then… maybe?

Honestly, if he knows that you studied hard and are trying your hardest, he probably won’t mind much helping you a little. He knows you can do it, after all.

#heia's writin'#genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #itto x reader #venti x reader #albedo x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #THREE DIFF NAMES #genshin impact imagines #gender neutral reader #twilight-theatre

484 notes · View notes

microwave-core · 11 months

Text

Carmine Fluff Alphabet Thing

For all intents and purposes, this is pre-Kieran Joker Arc.

Activities- What does she like to do? How does she spend her free time?

Carmine’s favorite thing to do with you is just laze around. She likes to splay out on the couch, tangling her limbs in yours, as you chat mindlessly. Makes Kieran bring in food and drinks from the kitchen or the drug store down the road. He grumbles about it, but he gets to hang out with you for a bit after doing so (he looks up to you a lot). Other than that, she likes showing you the many sights and scenes of Kitakami, especially the Festival of Masks. She’s very proud of her home (except for the whole casting out Ogrepon when she did nothing wrong thing, but I digress).

Beauty- What does she admire physically and mentally?

Physically, she likes your eyes. It’s not in a “eyes are the window to the soul” poetic type of way, though. She just appreciates their color and shape. Also really likes thighs. In terms of personality, Carmine really values courage. Even if you’re on the shy side, you’ve got at least some in you to stand toe to toe with her. She also really admires the ability to admit when you’re wrong, as it’s something she struggles with herself.

Comfort- How would she help when you’re feeling down, having a panic attack, etc.?

To be honest, Carmine’s style of comfort is a bit unconventional. She helps you settle down normally enough-instructing you to take deep breaths, to talk things out, and to let her hold you closely-but then she starts threatening whoever did this to you. She will make sure these bastards never see the light of day for hurting you, regardless if they hurt you on purpose or not. It’s up to you to reel her in if you think she’s going too far, because her threats are far from empty.

Dreams- How does she picture her future?

Hmm… Honestly, I don’t know. I could see her wanting to stay in Kitakami, continuing to live in her hometown out of habit, but I could also see her branching out and going on a journey to bigger regions and cities. She’s very prideful, though. She won’t easily admit that she likes a certain town or city or region, instead playing up how things are back at home. She wants you to come with her, obviously. What’s the point of going on a journey alone when she has you to do things for her to rely on?

Equal- Is she more dominant or passive in the relationship?

Definitely on the dominant side. She’s used to dealing with Kieran, who’s too shy to stand up for himself. Taking the reins comes naturally to her. She wouldn’t try to order you around all the time or speak on your behalf, but it’s obvious that she seems in control. She’s very vocal about what she does and does not like, and has a hard time dealing with push back. That being said, she does try to think about your needs and wants and changes to accommodate them, but that does not come easily to her.

Fight- What’s it like to fight her? How easily does she forgive?

Carmine is easily agitated, but she tries to keep her temper under wraps for your sake. She tends to get snippy with other people over small things, but she doesn’t want to be mad at her lovely girlfriend for something petty. That being said, when it’s a big fight, she’s a nightmare to deal with. She needs at least a week of space before she’s even willing to be on speaking terms again, and she complains about what happened during most of that time. Also has a hard time admitting her faults, which doesn’t make things any easier. She’ll come around eventually.

Gratitude- How grateful is she in general? Is she aware of what you do for her?

She’s very grateful for all you do, but doesn’t always vocalize that fact. Carmine doesn’t outright order you around, but she does ask you to do things sometimes. Can you bring me this, could you run to the store and grab that, would you be able to fetch Kiki for me, stuff like that. She’ll thank you after the fact, but it doesn’t show the depths of her gratitude.

Honesty- Does she keep secrets or hide things, or does she share everything?

Doesn’t usually hide things. You’re her closest confidant, so she has to reason to lie… Okay, there are certain things she doesn’t vocalize, like just how grateful she is for all you do, but she’s not normally going to lie. Unless she thought hiding something for the moment would be the best for you (just like how she hides meeting Ogrepon from Kieran), she’s going to be pretty honest.

Inspiration- Did you inspire her to change in some way?

You make Carmine want to be a nicer person, in a sense. She’s a bit prickly and snippy with people she doesn’t know or doesn’t like, but she doesn’t want to be like that with you. She really cares about you, and really wants to keep you around, so she tries her best to be kinder and softer with you, but not with anyone else… except maybe with Kieran. She also tries to boss him around less.

Jealousy- Does she get jealous easily? How does she deal with it?

Yes. Absolutely yes. She doesn’t like most other people, so she obviously doesn’t like when they’re around you. How dare they have the audacity to think they know you better then she does? Carmine knows you better than anyone, no questions asked! She also doesn’t really deal with it, she just holds you close and glares at her opposition. Doesn’t really acknowledge her jealous streak, but she doesn’t try to deny it, either.

Kiss- What’s she like as a kisser?

She’s above average, I guess. A bit rough with them, but puts just enough passion in to leave you wanting more. She tends to soften up a bit when you kiss her, pouting until you give her another, then another, the another, so on and so forth. She’s a bit greedy with your affection, honestly. She wants to be showered in your love.

Love Confession- How does she confess?

Carmine doesn’t confess. Or rather, she doesn’t want to. She’d much rather be confessed to. She’ll drop hints constantly, hoping that you’ll pick up on her feelings and just spill yours already. The more hints she drops, the more obvious they get. Should you take too long, she’ll confess in a rather aggressive manner, basically just telling you to kiss her already.

Marriage- Does she want to get married? Does she want kids?

I think Carmine wants to be married, but I don’t see her as a person who’d want kids. She’s more of an aunt figure in my mind, in a “when your double-income, no-kids, lesbian aunts show up to unleash the gift reckoning on christmas” way. Of course, she waits for you to propose, but will begrudgingly take up that mantle if you take too long. Her ideal wedding is a small one, just being surrounded by family. Listen, she’s a sap but she doesn’t want anyone to know.

Nicknames- What kinds of pet names does she use?

Typically just sticks with babe or baby. If she’s in a teasing mood, she’ll use an overly sweet nickname that makes other people cringe. Could also use a short form of your name if that’s applicable.

On Cloud Nine- What’s she like when in love? Is it obvious to others? How does she express her love?

She’s noticeably happier and softer when she sees, or even just thinks, about you, but she only smiles smugly when asked why she’s in such high spirits. Her main love language is acts of service. She usually just orders people around to do her bidding, so going out of her way to do things on your behalf means a lot coming from her.

PDA- Is she upfront about your relationship and affection?

Very upfront. Carmine wants everyone around to know that you’re her girl, just so they know not to mess with you unless they want to deal with her wrath. Has no issue with being affectionate with other people around, but tries to hold back with Kieran. She’ll tease him if he thinks her affection towards you is embarrassing, telling him off for still believing in cooties, but she does tone things down. She cares about him, really, she’s just an older sister. It’s how it be.

Quirk- What’s an ability she has that’s beneficial in a relationship?

She won’t hesitate to fuck someone up. Now, I’m not saying you should indulge in her violent tendencies and sick her on those you don’t like as if she’s a vapid dog, but you could if you really wanted to. Just know that you’ll likely have to take some of the responsibility if she clocks someone unprovoked.

Romance- How romantic is she? What does she do to make you happy?

As previously stated, she tries to do things for you. Again, it’s not much, but it means a lot coming from her. She’s not super romantic, but she is pretty passionate. As much as she likes sitting back and basking in your love, she will at times turn the tables and instead shower you in affection, peppering you with light pecks, telling you how much she loves you after each and every one.

Support- How does she help you achieve your goals?

Carmine can, and will, weed out anyone standing in your way. Is someone harassing you, or scaring you off, or in general just bringing your spirit down and making your job harder? Sit down babe, Carmine’s just gonna have a little chat with them real quick. She doesn’t always resort to violence, sometimes threats are enough to scare them off, but she will use force if she has to. Again, you might need to step in before she takes things too far.

Thrill- Does she feel the need to try new things out to spice up your relationship, or does she prefer stability?

Honestly, I’m a bit conflicted here. I think she does spice things up in, um, plenty of ways if you catch my drift, but she doesn’t do anything too extreme to your relationship as a whole.

Understanding- How well does she know you?

Carmine knows a lot about you. It’s like she’s got a little memory bank in her brain just for you. She’s pretty perspective, too, and tries to keep them in mind. She’ll do normal things like pick up your favorite snacks and plan dates at your favorite locals, but then she’ll do things like claim no one can sit in a specific spot because that’s your favorite seat and you deserve to have it.

Value- How important is your relationship to her?

Incredibly important. Honestly, Carmine doesn’t have too many close relationships outside of her family, so you mean so much to her. When she knows that things between you are getting serious, she genuinely sees you as a part of her family, and they think the same. Her grandparents love you and think you’re a great influence, and Kieran thinks you’re ridiculously cool. So don’t break her heart.

Wild Card- A random headcanon.

She absentmindedly plays with your hair when she’s not doing anything else. She’ll twirl it and untangle it and wrap it around her fingers. If it’s too short to play with, or if you’ve styled it in a way where she can’t, or shouldn’t, mess with it easily, she’ll settle for scratching gently at your scalp.

XOXO- Is she affectionate?

Pretty affectionate. She likes to hold you closer, or lay her legs across your lap, or vice versa, or… or anything, really. Carmine just likes to be close, both in public and behind closed doors.

Yearning- How does she cope when missing you?

Perfectly fine, then not at all. If you’re gone for a while, she can deal with it. You can’t be around all the time, she gets that. She still has Kieran to hang around with, so she’s not lonely or anything. But when days turn to weeks, she suddenly breaks. She becomes incredibly dramatic, lamenting about how much she misses you, about how you’ve been gone for so long. Practically jumps you the next time you meet.

Zeal- Is she willing to go to great lengths for your relationship? If so, in what ways?

I already stated that she would deck a man for you in a heartbeat so I’d say she’s willing to do a lot. If someone is clearly bothering you, she won’t ask any questions, nor will she hesitate. If you're not uncomfortable or in distress when asking her to do something, though, she might complain about it. She’ll still do it, even if she doesn’t really want to, but she does ask to be compensated in affection.

#pokemon x reader #carmine x reader #fem reader #the gif looks scrunged because i had to scrunch it #twas too big :*<#i have no idea why im on a writing kick but i am i guess #anyways carmine and klara are very similar me thinks #the difference is that carmine would murder you whereas klara would frame you for murder #differences people differences #also tweaked the prompts a bit bc formatting purposes

78 notes · View notes

lovvecherrymotion · 7 months

Note

For the kisses, 25 and/or 29, Jance

this is a little silly/soft, but i can't help myself when it comes to them! i hope you like it ✨💕

Jance: ... as a promise.

Nace isn’t surprised to find Jan waiting for him in the living room, pretending to pay attention to whatever paper he’s supposed to be reading, with Igor and Oli both cuddled up on his left side, resting. He looks like he’s almost pouting and Nace can’t help but think he looks adorable, but he knows he’ll have something to apologize for.

“Hi love.” He greets, bending down to kiss Jan, and then he can barely hold back a mile as he pulls away and he sees Jan is actually pouting. “Hey, I come back and give you a kiss and this is the reaction I get?”

“Don’t even try, Nace Jordan.” Jan complains and Nace really has to try hard not to laugh and kiss his boyfriend all over. “Not after today’s betrayal.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says, taking a seat right next to Jan, seeing him roll his eyes at him. Between this and the full name treatment? Oh, Nace will really have to apologize.

“Bojan made sure to send me a photo of the delicious lunch you both got after going to the gym.” He says and then he takes his phone out of his hoodie’s pocket, turning it to Nace so that he can see the screen.

It’s the selfie Bojan took of the two of them at the restaurant they’d gone to, followed by three texts.

ur boyfriend just took me on a date

it was amazing btw the food was 10/10

and so was the company ;)

“Janči, baby, I can explain…”

“You said we’d go there first, Nace!” Jan whines. “I can’t believe you took Bojan there before me!”

And Nace can’t help but bury his face in the crook of Jan’s neck, holding back laughter. His boyfriend might be the most adorable person ever when he’s upset over something so small.

“Janči, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re laughing! You took Bojan on a date to the thai restaurant we said we were gonna try and you’re laughing!” Jan complains, but Nace knows it won’t last long. Still, even though it’s nothing serious, he feels the need to reassure him it’s okay.

“Hey, the only reason I took Bojan there first,” he starts, lifting his head up and looking at Jan. “Was so that I could try it and make sure it’s nice enough for you. Wouldn’t want to take you somewhere shitty on date night.”

Jan looks back at him, the mild annoyance in his eyes gone. Nace is well aware this little complaint isn’t actually about having lunch with Bojan at the place they both wanted to try – he’s acting up about minor things because he’s been struggling to sleep again and he’s been determined to finish his thesis after getting an email from his professor (except it’s nearly impossible when they’re so busy with touring). Still, if complaining about small things helps in any type of way, Nace is more than happy to deal with that.

“Fine. I’ll let it pass this time.” Jan says and Nace can see how their little fight has been enough to calm him down just a bit. “But you have to promise you’ll take me there next time.”

“I promise. It’s a date.” And as he wraps his arms around Jan, kissing him again, he feels his boyfriend melt into his embrace.

#jan peteh #nace jordan #janace #jance #joker out #my fic #kissing requests

26 notes · View notes

randomthefox · 18 days

Note

I’ve been thinking a lot about how angry Tails gets in Sonic Lost World lately.

I think Tails is the type of person who loves to do everything he can to help people constantly, especially the people he’s closest to, because he desperately wants his feelings to be reciprocated. But Tails doesn’t want to directly ask for what he wants because he thinks that would be selfish. He always tries to present a kind and nurturing persona to the rest of the world so that people will feel like they can depend on him, and if they do, they’ll never leave him. This is also why he doesn’t know how to say no to people. The only way that he feels he can make sure he doesn’t accidentally drive away the people he cares about is by being as useful as possible. He clearly thinks that his worth is only measured by how useful he by how he asks Sonic in Frontiers whether he’s being a burden on Sonic for not doing enough to help him save the world.

I think that’s why Tails’ anger in Sonic Lost World seems to come out of nowhere. He’s felt like he’s been underappreciated for a while now, and Sonic wanting to team up with Eggman was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. If you pay attention, Tails’ rant is foreshadowed by him being more prideful than usual. As a way of him trying to communicate to Sonic that “you should be grateful for everything I do for you” before Tails has a full meltdown, because Tails doesn’t want to sound selfish by directly saying it.

Tails doesn’t get emotional very often because he’s always repressing his feelings to not be a bother. Tails still doesn’t say no. He never says that he refuses to work with Eggman, he just complains about it. He also still doesn’t properly convey what he wants. He just says that he’s angry about working with Eggman, but that’s clearly not the entire truth because he brings up how he thinks that Sonic doesn’t think he’s good enough. Another way of him indirectly saying “you should be grateful for everything I do for you”, except more aggressively. He still doesn’t want to come off as selfish so that people won’t abandon him. So instead he expresses his repressed anger by complaining about everything all of the time while never addressing the source of exactly what’s making him so volatile because he still doesn’t want to seem like a bother by sounding selfish, even though he’s being a bother anyways by being a passive aggressive jerk because he won’t just say what’s wrong. Tails is so fixated on not being a bother by not being selfish that he doesn’t consider how he could be being a bother in other ways. Such is the contradictory nature of an unhealthy coping mechanism. It fits with Tails’ habit of fixating so hard on the complicated stuff that he misses the simple things. Like how he built the Tornado 2 to do something as amazing as transform but forgot to add in something as simple as landing gear in the second form.

Tails’ arc in Frontiers seems to be the beginning of him learning how to properly advocate for himself and how to become a more self sufficient person.

What do you think of this analysis of Tails’ psyche? Do you think this sounds about right? Or have I completely gone off the fucking deep end? Also, thank you for reading my 700 word essay on Miles ‘Tails’ Prower lol.

I think you're spot on. Like, no notes.

Tails might have self actualized in SA 1 and 2 but the problems of his self esteem issues didn't just go away. That shit is sticking around forever. It's like being an addict. You don't ever stop being an addict. Even after twenty years of being sober, you'll still be an addict. Deep rooted psychological dependence doesn't ever go away, you just get better at managing it. Pain doesn't go away, you just make room for it

Tails primary character flaw has always been his self esteem. His theme song was called "Believe in Myself" because that's what he needed to learn how to do. And the lyrics of the song include "Many friends help me out In return I help them Certain things I can do, and there's things that only I can do No one's alone."

Which, yeah, speaks to me of a pretty cut and dry case of "Tails doesn't think he's good unless he's useful." So Sonic thinking they "needed" Eggman instead of deferring to Tails would absolutely trigger that sensitive reaction from him. And like I mentioned when I was playing through the game - Sonic accepts Eggmans suggestion for them to team up unilaterally. He doesn't even ask Tails if he'd be okay with it, let alone consider that Tails could reprogram the machine himself. Sonic did cede to Eggman's suggestion so easily because of the baggage he was dealing with himself in that game, but it absolutely just resulted in Tails feeling slighted and developing some resentment which quickly boiled over into their argument. Which I've already analyzed myself.

Tails definitely strikes me as the kind of person who wouldn't understand that It Isn't About The Nail

youtube

Or the Parks and Rec way portraying it

youtube

aka as you described "so fixated on not being a bother by not being selfish that he doesn’t consider how he could be being a bother in other ways." The story he had in Frontiers definitely seemed oriented around confronting that element of his character and trying to take corrective steps towards it.

I agree 100% with all of it.

#miles tails prower #miles prower #tails #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic lost world #sonic frontiers

13 notes · View notes

luckyricochet · 1 month

Text

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Eilidh learns how terrible the night can be.

A/N: Cèlidh (KAY-lee) - A traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering usually involving dancing and Gaelic music

Eilidh Hamilton’s Diary

Mum and Dad say I need to keep on looking after Granny. They both asked if they could take different shifts now that the attacks are at night, but they’re both needed during the day. I expected as much, so it wasn’t so surprising when they told me but it seems like I won’t be getting much time to myself for the foreseeable future. It’s not as if I was getting much of that in St Andrews, but…I’m not sure how to express what I feel. Maybe because I don’t have any opportunity to actually work it out, all my time it seems is focused on Granny. And maybe instead of writing here in this diary I could think instead, but even that time wouldn’t be enough. I need more.

I keep telling myself everyone has to make sacrifices in war but I can’t help but complain anyway. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do anything anymore, except be by myself. I know it’s a selfish, horrible thought. Mum, Dad, and Granny deserve so much better than me, and I don’t want to give it to them.

I keep hoping one day I’ll wake up and I won’t be such a bitter pill and all of this will go away. But that only happens after some time. And like I said, I don’t have much of it right now.

A hand on her shoulder. Soft, but with a little pressure. Eilidh frowned in her sleep and then turned over, rolling the hand off of her. She opened her eyes and saw in the dimness the shape of her mother, dressed and carrying a bag.

“I’m sorry to wake you so early,” she whispered. “But we’re leaving now, so it’ll be you and Granny until we get back.”

“When?” Eilidh groaned, still half-asleep.

“We’ll try to be back before eight tonight,” her mother answered. “If anything happens, we’ll telephone.”

“Is Granny up?”

Eilidh’s mother glanced out into the hall. “Not yet.”

Eilidh forced herself awake enough to catch a glimpse of her clock. She probably had another hour of rest before she would have to rise.

“Well, okay,” she muttered. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Footsteps padded softly out of the room, followed by a shuttering of the door. London was awake even though it was still early, with the cars passing on the streets and a newspaper boy hawking the headlines on the corner. Eilidh pulled her blanket higher, trying to enjoy the warmth of her bed for as long as she could. When she finally sat up to change, she didn’t feel like she had taken advantage of the extra time.

As refreshed as she could be, Eilidh stopped outside her brother’s room. He hadn’t spent much time here, as she recalled. If he wasn’t at school, he was on the street playing football or riding his bike. He wasn’t someone content to stay at home.

She knocked. “Granny? Do you need help getting dressed?”

Some muffled noises answered her. “No, I don’t think so…”

A minute later, the door opened. Eilidh’s mouth fell open slightly. Her grandmother stood before her, not wearing the type of sensible dress and hose that she normally donned, but Will’s slacks, a woolen jumper, and church jacket. Everything was too large her but also too frumpy to all be layered atop of each other, rendering Granny some bizarre model for Will's school uniform and a Sunday service at the same time.

“Granny, these aren’t your clothes,” Eilidh said. “Do you have your luggage in there? Why don’t you take those off and we’ll pick something that fits you.” She gently pushed Granny back into the room. “What about this?” She pulled out a blue dress, cardigan, and stockings from the suitcase that was at the foot of the bed.

“Hmm…” Her grandmother appraised the outfit Eilidh proposed, skeptical.

“You love this dress,” Eilidh said. “We can’t go out with you dressed in boys’ clothes, can we?”

“Boys’ clothes?”

“Yes. Boys’ clothes,” Eilidh said firmly. She began to take the mismatched garments off. “Don’t these feel more comfortable?” She wrangled her grandmother into her own clothes and then let out a breath. “Isn’t that better?”

Her grandmother examined her arms, like she had never seen what she was now wearing. “I supposed it does.” She laughed a little, as if she was surprised with herself.

Eilidh almost joined her, and then the memory of last night returned. Her smiled faded. “Granny, I’m sorry I was sharp with you yesterday evening.”

Her grandmother also stopped smiling, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“When we arrived, I got frustrated with you. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to yell. It wasn’t your fault.”

A moment passed, while Eilidh wondered if Granny actually remembered what had happened. She shrugged, and then pointed at her, somewhat devilishly. “That’s that temper of yours, isn’t it?”

Eilidh looked down sheepishly. “Yeah, it is. Should we go on a walk?”

“Walk” was a generous label for what they really engaged in, just a brief constitutional down the end of the road and back. But there was plenty out there to keep both Eilidh and her grandmother stimulated, even at the slow pace in which they moved. Blooming flowers, sounds of the street, people to watch, the feeling of the sun. The world continued on. And it had been so many years since Eilidh had appreciated this area, she took her time to take it all in before they returned back to the house—which felt decidedly empty when Eilidh closed and locked the door again.

As the days wore on, Eilidh soon realized that her thought about the empty house was not to be an anomaly. Her parents left for the hospital early in the morning, and didn’t come back usually until after Eilidh had made dinner. In between then, Eilidh wandered the halls of her childhood home, mulling how it no longer seemed as comforting as it once had.

She saw pictures of herself and Will on the mantle and bookshelves. His shoes were still by the door, his coat on the rack. Even in the bathroom, his razor sat unused in the cabinet, his toothbrush in the cup on the sink. He had been buried now for a week but everything about the house seemed to indicate he would come walking through the door any minute, alive and well. Eilidh couldn’t help thinking that he would whenever she heard footsteps.

As different as the house now felt, though, it was still her home. Eilidh made an effort to notice the things that reminded her of this fact. The sheets were still a little scratchy like they had been when she was little. One of the legs of the dining room table sported a few scratches from where Eilidh and Will had dug the tines of a fork over the wood in a moment of foolhardy childishness. Things that her parents could have changed or fixed over the years, and didn’t. Constants that Eilidh now saw as signs that this was indeed her home, and not just another house in London.

She tired to vary her days with other activities she could take advantage of with her grandmother. All of her art supplies from her school days were still here, so Eilidh dug them out of the drawer and they painted for a few afternoons. Eilidh peeked over at Granny’s paper every once in a while, impressed to see that even in its somewhat garbled state, her grandmother’s vase of daffodils was a better attempt than her own botched depiction of the Swilcan Bridge on the Old Course. When they grew tired of painting, they went into the yard and tended to the small garden in which her parents had begun to grow vegetables. They turned on the radio and and danced to whatever was playing, one of Granny’s favorite pastimes from the old days; she had always been able to last the longest at a cèilidh. Glenn Miller wasn’t exactly the same, but it filled the void at least. Anything to keep Granny occupied.

If she wasn’t occupied, her grandmother asked a lot of questions. Why they were in London? Because of Will. Then where was he? Underground, he was killed. When they could leave? Not for a long time. Where were her parents? At the hospital. Would they be attacked? I don’t know.

Within a few days of her arrival, Eilidh’s father had showed her the bomb shelter in the yard. It had been added when Eilidh had been in Scotland, so she never saw how it had been installed—a metal shed-like structure with a domed roof, tucked into four feet of earth. Inside were rough wooden bunks, torches, canned food, bottles of water, and other essential items her parents had stockpiled away. Once Eilidh saw it, she immediately made sure to put some things that would appeal to herself and Granny in it, but it was still a depressing sight. If there was one place where a person could get bored and restless, it would have been in there. She fervently prayed the Germans would soon grow bored of dropping bombs on them.

The high-pitched whine of the air raid siren woke Eilidh with a start. Her disorientation only lasted a minute, though; the sound was unmistakable. “Mum? Dad?” she shouted from her room, struggling to find her coat and shoes in the dark. She abandoned them hopelessly and wrapped herself in a quilt instead.

Her parents were already out of their bed, waking up Granny in the next room. “Mum, we’ve got to go, now!” her father was saying, urging her out of bed and into a jacket. But Granny moved slowly on the best of days and now, with the loud commotion of the bombs and the siren, was obstinate.

“You’re mad, James—you want to go outside—in this?!” she argued. The sentence came out in pieces, barely audible above the din. “I’m staying here.”

Outside, the bombs fell. BOOM. BOOM. The windows trembled from their impact. Flashes of yellow light crept through the curtains that had been drawn for the blackout, illuminating the room with fire for a second. In the brief moment when she could see, Eilidh noted the unmistakable worry in her parents’ faces.

“Mum, this whole house might be flattened!” Eilidh’s father shot back. “Now come on, we’re going! The shelter is right in the back—” As he spoke, the house shuddered violently. Eilidh crouched down instinctively, glancing up at the ceiling with terror, which was now sprinkling dust on them from the force of the blast. She glanced back at her parents and grandmother, biting her lip until it bled so she didn’t panic. Granny wasn’t going to be moving any time soon; they all knew it.

“Eilidh, get to the shelter,” her mother muttered to her.

“But—”

“We’ll be right behind you, now go!” Eilidh’s mother glared at her so fiercely Eilidh acquiesced without further argument, tripping over her own feet in her haste to fly down the stairs and into the garden.

Even the short sprint from the door to the shelter was exhilarating—the world seemed to be collapsing around her. In the open air, Eilidh felt every bomb dropped through her entire body. They shook the ground she ran on and electrified the air she breathed, sparking her insides with energy and making the hair on back of her neck stand up. The RAF was doing its job and anti-aircraft weaponry answered each Luftwaffe plane with a blast of flak, but it did little to calm the adrenaline that pumped through Eilidh’s blood, so galvanizing that she hardly acknowledged the pricks of pain on the soles of her socked feet from the gravel path leading to the shelter. She kept her eyes trained on it coming closer and closer, not daring to peek to the sky even for a second. She threw the door open finally after fumbling with the latch, ducking and scrambling inside. She turned around, hoping, expecting, to see her parents and grandmother close behind like her mother had promised.

But the yard was empty.

Eilidh froze in disbelief—Surely they couldn’t still be inside?—and then collected herself enough to climb halfway out of the shelter, alarmed. It was dark and she had to strain her eyes between the intermittent flashes of light, but there was no one coming toward her in the gloom, and it was impossible to try and see what was going on through the windows with the blinds shut. Eilidh knelt on the steps of the shelter, half-exposed, her mind racing. What to do. What to do!? As far as she knew, her parents were still in the house, trying to convince Granny to leave its safety and brave the outdoors to reach the shelter. They’ll never convince her, Eilidh thought wildly, She’s as stubborn as a mule, she won’t go, not unless they drag her out kicking and screaming—

Some manic force nearly took over Eilidh then, imagining the scene inside. I’ve got to go help them, she thought. Of course she won’t go with them, but me—I’ve been the one with her all these years, I’m the one who’s been taking care of her—She forced herself to do what she had been too scared to do a minute before and looked up, watching the shadowed aircraft and clouds of smoke in the sky, a futile attempt to guess when would be safest when she knew in reality it was all up to chance, but she readied her feet anyway, steeled her mind—

NOW—!

And the world exploded. The sky seemed to split and a deafening CRACK ripped from the tear in the air, accompanied by a blinding flare somewhere not far from the front of the house. Eilidh cowered and felt herself being thrown by the blazing hot force of a shell back into the shelter. She landed haphazardly on the hard floor but ignored the bruise she felt on her shoulder, and, for a moment, the thought of her family that had just gripped her a moment earlier, scrambling to cover her head and make herself as small as possible. The roof shook and the air was filled with the screaming siren, whirring engines, deep ack ack bursts, noise Eilidh was dimly amazed to register at all now that her ears were ringing so loudly her head ached. She pressed her arms against them and held her eyes shut tight, trying to block the sounds out and not see the fire, but when she tried to ignore the present, her mind drifted, to the past, to Will. Is this the last thing he had heard, the last thing he had felt? The thought tormented her, and she contorted herself into a ball, wishing she was anywhere but here and that her memories were anything but what they were.

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #jack kidd #jack kidd x oc #masters of the air oc #mota oc #my writing #rrr

9 notes · View notes

batfsm · 8 months

Text

I had a thought that they, basically it was Barbara, wouldn’t. I know they had left and then came back but so you think they would leave for good?

Idea below:

It and basically happens during/before Blockbuster/Tarantula/Bludhaven/The Earthquake. (I think they all happened around the same time, if they didn’t they do here.)

An OC, maybe even one of the kids I don’t know yet, gets the future in their head/comes back in time and calls Talia & Ra’s. They tell them what happens and the League comes to Gotham. Talia tears into Catalina, this is before Jason comes out as Red Hood but he remembers (I don’t know if he’s the one to remember because Damian also remembers), and Jason complains because he wanted to do so but got told he was not allowed near her or even Blockbuster. (Talia had called Bruce and got him to get Dick home before she left for Catalina Flores which he did by telling him he needed him since Jason and Damian had shown up.)

Ra’s goes to Gotham and talks to Bruce and Alfred and they bring over who they can of Bludhaven and start getting Gotham ready. The bridge is not used, Ivy and the other Rogues that can be a little trusted are allowed out of Arkham and put to work, Crime Alley is the first to be emptied, Jason gets them to leave by getting the Working Girls/Boys to help, and put with families or in Manors that can hold them. Bristol is quickly filled with even the smallest Manor/Mansion being used and all the other houses holding who they can. Basically Gotham City itself is soon emptied, except for who won’t leave.

Ivy makes food and water is brought over by the assassins who are the ones who get in and out of Gotham itself. No one else goes there (not even the family who have a lot of the GPD and their families in the Manor.) if they don’t have to.

Duke and his parents come to live with the family as does Steph and Crystal. So do Colin, Cullen, Harper, Matt, Terry, (who shouldn’t be born yet, I don’t think, but are for reasons), and their parents.

The earthquake and etc happens still but not as bad as it did in the past/future. More are saved and more people ban together and decide to stay when offered to leave.

There’s a bit more in between but the one thing that stands out to me is that Dick asks Barbara to leave with the family, they decided to leave Gotham and only come back to visit for a reason I can’t think of right now, and live with Talia and Ra’s.

Barbara gets mad at Dick and tells him no and he should stay in Gotham. When Dick points out that she had left and come back, she told him it was different because he was leaving for good, even though he told her that they would be back to visit. He got angry and said it wasn’t that different and they fought and broke up.

Selina…Selina got mad at Bruce because he and Talia were taking. They weren’t together, just talking and getting to be friends again, but Selina didn’t like it. When Talia pointed out that she and Bruce would be talking because of the children, Selina blew up and she broke up with Bruce for good.

I don’t know if they would get back together, either couple but maybe they would work it out and maybe they wouldn’t. I just had the thought of Barbara getting mad at Dick for leaving Gotham/Bludhaven for good.

(Oh, I kind of have a thought that Bruce tells Gotham/the world about being Batman and the kids follow before they leave. I don’t know if I would include it if I ever did write this.)

(Yes, Steph, Crystal, Duke, his parents, Terry, Matt, their parents, Harper, Cullen, and Colin do go with them.)

I don’t know what else I would add, if anything else, but here’s the start.

#polls #batman #my fanfiction #just an idea #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #batfam #barbara gordon #selina kyle

20 notes · View notes

jaimeslanisters · 2 years

Text

the pawn in every lover's game (part six)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

When you're ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 5.5k notes: sorry for the kinda slow update! i got caught up in the holidays and also the world cup (argentina lo hizooooo) but here it is! lady lannister gets to flex her wordplay in this one (:

When you race into the gardens, slightly frazzled from having to slip away from your cousins’ gossiping, hands tight around a meticulously wrapped package, you don't exactly know what you’re expecting to walk in on but it certainly wasn’t this. The gardens are a wonder, utterly transformed, with soft blue flowers littering the pathway up to an extravagant table that’s intricately decorated with even more flowers and ribbons. It smells divine, more bakery than a garden, and you can catch a whiff of the honey fingers Helaena favored so much coming from a side table that the servants were slowly filling with food meant for the tea party. Queen Alicent is fluttering around, looking anxious as she makes last-minute arrangements, wringing her hands. It looks exactly how a tea for a royal wedding is meant to look like.

That all makes sense. Aemond and Daeron, sitting by Helaena’s side as she obsessively pours over sheets of paper, do not.

You furrow your brow as you approach the table. None of the royal siblings notice you, too invested in whatever it was they were reading, and when you get close, you can just make out sigils with names written next to them. Helaena is muttering under her breath as Aemond patiently quizzes her, Daeron encouraging the two of them.

They’re helping her memorize who is attending you realize and you feel a rush of warmth and affection.

“I can just whisper the names of all the ladies to you if that makes it easier,” you say, laughing slightly, and Daeron and Helaena startle, looking up at you with wide eyes. Aemond doesn’t jump like his siblings do, simply shaking his head with a barely there smile, leaving you with the distinct impression that he had seen you approach.

Helaena shakes her head almost instantly. “I need to learn,” she insists, nearly buzzing with nervous energy. “I know them all - mostly - but I just… I needed a refresher. Mother also asked me to arrange the seating and I kept putting it off since there were a million other things to do and now I’m trying to finish it before it starts except I’ve completely forgotten the relations between all of the ladies and who shouldn’t be seated with who and who it is insulting if they’re too far and who I’m insulting if they’re too close an-”

You shake your head, settling into a seat across from the three of them, placing your present to the side. “You should start with taking a breath, Helaena.”

Daeron lets out a loud groan, slamming his head on the table hard enough that Alicent shouts a warning at him. “It’s been impossible with these two.” He complains, rolling his head over so he can stare at you with eyes that belong more to a puppy than a Targaryen dragonrider. “I didn’t think this much effort went into tea parties.”

“That was your first mistake,” Aemond drawls, shooting his younger brother a droll look. “You’re lucky Mother isn’t near to hear you say that.”

You let out a laugh, leaning over the table to peer over their work. Though Helaena’s handwriting is absolute chicken scratch when she doesn’t have time to focus, you make sense of it easily enough. “This isn’t bad…”

Helaena lets out a noise that can only be described as a whine. “But?”

“Just grouping by regions won’t do you any favors,” you reply. “It’s an easy approach but it might be better to mix it up through other means. You want people to think you’ve thought about it rather than just thrown it together at the last minute.”

“I wonder where they would get that idea from,” Aemond muses, completely unaffected when Helaena shoots him a glare.

You smile at her, trying to comfort her. “To be fair, I wouldn’t expect you to know this information, Helaena. Or you two, my princes. Seating arrangements are meant to be the expertise of women, I’m afraid, and we’ve rarely had the occasion to make any here. You just haven’t had the chance to practice is all.”

The siblings all frown in response and you almost regret bringing up the elephant in the room. Queen Alicent had done her best to educate her children but the King was a distant figure and the court had shrunk as his health had waned. The family still commanded plenty of influence but there had been no chance to throw extravagant feasts or tourneys while King Viserys was so ill, and no chance to build bonds with any houses not within the royal court.

This wedding was meant to be to fix that. If all went according to plan, it would be a loud reminder that the power of House Targaryen remained firm even as the cracks in its once-strong armor grew ever wider. House Targaryen still had friends even if a succession crisis loomed over the Iron Throne.

“Did you get to work on organizing seating charts while you were at Casterly Rock?” Helaena asks, watching you with a hint of desperation even as she reaches to snatch the paper that Aemond had been studying so intently.

You nod, moving back to sit properly in your seat. “There were plenty of feasts in the lead-up to Loren’s birth and plenty after. Tyshara and I split the work between us since my mother was obviously occupied and Cerelle was kept busy helping her before she left for the North.”

“She’s been there for at least a moon and a half at this point, hasn’t she? How is Lady Cerelle finding the North?” Aemond asks and when you look over at him, his eye seems to be glinting knowingly in the sunlight.

He must recognize that we sent her for a reason, you realize. Lannisters have never had much to do with the Starks before. In the past years, we haven’t had much to do with any houses not within the Westerlands.

You tilt your head, wondering how much you should play of your hand. “This morning, Maester Rodrik gave me a letter from her that she had sent ahead of us. She left for Winterfell a good bit before the rest of our House left to travel here for the wedding and arrived there before we ever arrived at the Red Keep. Cerelle says she finds the North cold but beautiful and trade negotiations are difficult to say the least but progressing well enough.”

Cregan Stark is very handsome, she had written in her letter. He seems inclined to agree to my proposition and hopefully, all will go smoothly when we enter discussions with Lord Regent Bennard.

When you, Cerelle, and Tyland had discussed it with Lord Jason, he had been hesitant to send his eldest daughter to the frigid North, away from allies and on her own. No Lannisters had ever ventured there, he had warned. In response, however, you had brought up that, before Tyland had risen to be Master of Ships and you had become Helaena’s companion, there was no Lannister presence in King’s Landing. If Lannisters only treaded where other Lannisters were, the entirety of your house would be trapped on the Rock.

A marriage with Cregan Stark would bring the North under Lannister influence. Tyshara’s overeager Lord Tarly would give the Rock a not insignificant sway in the Reach. Your own potential marriage with Aemond would bring the Crownlands and the throne itself to add to your house’s power. In order to accomplish this, however, a quick marriage would be needed for Cerelle to claim Cregan Stark as her own. Betrothals could be broken, you had reasoned to him, especially if it was against a would-be usuper’s interests. Lord Regent Brennard would never agree to betrothing Cerelle to his nephew, not when it would bring significant power and force to Cregan pressing his claim. Better a quick marriage that would give Cerelle protection than a broken promise that would put her in danger. It was a risky move but, if your older sister could secure herself the Lord of Winterfell, she would give House Lannister a foothold in the North and a strong ally moving forward.

Aemond nods and you idly wonder when he had gained the ability to see right through you. You wonder if all your intentions were clear to him and, unwilling to sit on that thought much longer, you clear your throat. “Cerelle will manage. She always has. Regardless of that, Helaena, I can help you reorganize your seating arrangement slightly. I know more about the relations between the ladies of the Westerlands but I’ve heard some about the Reach from Tyshara and, of course, the court gossip reveals much.”

You lean over the table, taking Helaena’s quill from her hand to scratch out some names and rewrite some others. Helaena leans with you, her long white hair spilling out over her shoulders, nearly covering some of the sheets you were working on. Aemond and Daeron sit quietly for the most part though, in the middle of your’s and Helaena’s hushed debates about which ladies in the Crownlands hate which ladies in the Riverlands, you hear Daeron get up and steal some lemon cakes to eat as he and his brother wait for the two of you to finish, the two talking amongst themselves. Somewhere else in the garden, a lyre begins to play and you know the musicians must be practicing for when the tea actually begins but, for now, you pretend that it is for the four of you only. There was no wedding. There was no need for allies to press Aegon’s claim. No need to maneuver the lords of Westeros like pieces of chess on a board. There was only this calm and peace, safe from the outside world and its ugly games, with all of you warm under the afternoon sun.

Finally, you and Helaena land on a final seating arrangement that pleases the two of you and you settle back in your chair, letting out a quick laugh of relief as you reach to squeeze Helaena’s hand in comfort. She beams at you happily, eyes glittering in the sunlight, and you glance over to where the Queen had been standing earlier, meeting her gaze.

For a moment, Alicent looks haunted as she stares at the four of you seated around the table, eyes wide and vulnerable, looking as if she’s seen something she’s long since lost and has found once again just barely out of her reach. It is only for a second before her expression clears and she smiles placidly, erasing all traces of longing from her face. You blink, bewildered.

“Have you finished the seating arrangement, my dear?” she calls, her voice calm and serene, and you turn to look at Helaena, shaking away your confusion to smile at her encouragingly.

Helaena looks nervous as she nods, walking over to present the seating arrangement to her mother. When the Queen nods in agreement, pulling her daughter to the side to discuss it more in-depth, you let out a sigh of relief, giving yourself a moment to relax, before you straighten up and look over at the royal princes only to find that they are already watching you.

Daeron looks as innocent as a nearly grown man can be, small crumbs spattering his tunic. Aemond looks better off than his brother but, if you look closely enough, you can see his lips slightly shine from the lemon glaze. He must have indulged in some of the treats with his brother and you find yourself grinning at the idea of the stern and proper prince you knew stealing a lemon cake from his younger brother’s stash.

“I did not think I would have to warn two princes away from the food,” you teasingly scold and Daeron turns red, looking flustered. Aemond gives you absolutely nothing except for the mischievous glint in his amethyst eye.

Daeron clears his throat. “They were right there and no one stopped us.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re princes of the realm. I can’t imagine there are many who would dare to order the two of you about.”

“I imagine there’s a few,” Aemond smoothly cuts in and you look over to see him smirking knowingly at you.

A short laugh escapes you and you shake your head as you reach for the present you had brought for Helaena. Before you can grab it, however, a maid descends upon you to take it away, full of apologies for not having noticed earlier.

“It’s alright,” you wave her off, smiling gently at her. The maid nods, more out of trying to please you than actually agreeing, before she whisks it off to an empty side table you know will be filled with gifts within the next hour. For now, only your present sits there, neatly wrapped in light green paper.

“I can’t see many ladies getting Helaena things she likes,” Daeron says after a moment, voice morose, and you sigh, nodding.

“She’ll either receive enough smallclothes to clothe the entirety of Flea Bottom or she’ll be so completely swamped with so many Targaryen-themed accessories that she’ll be able to ensure the next few generations of Targaryens won’t have to commission any new pieces,” you grumble, fighting the urge to pick at the petals littering the table. “The more extravagant gifts will happen during the wedding itself. Right now, it’s only ladies giving out presents that they think other ladies will like - even if they themselves wouldn’t enjoy receiving them.”

Daeron snorts, laughing a little. “Seems a mess. At least the tourney tomorrow promises to be more entertaining than this tea.”

Aemond shoots his brother a look. “Perhaps for you. Helaena doesn’t care for tourneys either.”

You clear your throat, frowning. “Will either of you be participating?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Even before he had come of age, Aemond had never shown any interest in participating in any tourney, even as invites had rolled in from other kingdoms. I ride a dragon he would say if pressed, shaking his head. Why should I ride a horse to entertain careless nobles instead?

Aemond doesn’t answer, simply giving you a look that tells you exactly what he thinks. You fight back a giggle, even as Daeron lets out a mournful sigh.

“I’m to serve as Lord Ormund’s squire. I haven’t gotten the chance to squire during an actual tourney seeing as he mostly stays in Oldtown studying under his father and he wants me to gain that experience before I participate in one myself.” Despite his grumpy tone, he can’t quite hide the spark of excitement in his eyes and you bite back a grin. Daeron Targaryen may ride a dragon and he may be a royal prince but he couldn’t escape his childhood desire to be a proud knight.

“I’m sure you’ll serve him admirably,” you readily praise, grinning wide when Daeron sits up straight in pride.

He smiles back, looking at you carefully before his eyes flick over to Aemond. In an all too casual tone, he asks, “Will you be giving a knight your favor during the joust? I’ve heard that Ser Victor Florent seems eager to ask.”

Aemond looks over to you, face perfectly blank, and you almost want to reach out and kick him, if only to coax out a reaction. Instead, you take a deep breath and shake your head, letting your smile drop. “At this moment, I have no suitors so I’ll likely be giving my favor to my cousin, Ser Tygett of Lannisport. If I have any luck, he’ll draw the first listing and I’ll be able to give it to him rather than having to give it to whichever lord asks first otherwise.”

“Perhaps I should ask Ser Criston to watch the drawing carefully,” Aemond muses, tapping his fingers on the table. “Ser Victor may grow desperate otherwise.”

“I’m lucky he didn’t quite work up the nerve to speak to my father,” you reply, sighing. “I think he was rather put off by something.”

While you couldn’t be entirely sure, according to Uncle Tyland, Victor had seemed determined to pull Jason aside to discuss a possible meeting in the future until Aemond had bumped into him. Their conversation hadn’t been long or even heated but, when Aemond had walked off, Victor hadn’t taken another step closer to the Lord of Casterly Rock. If Tyland was to be believed, Prince Aegon, at this point well into his cups, had found the entire thing terribly amusing and had had to be scolded by his mother into being convinced into ceasing his laughter.

It was a sweet story but your uncle had also been into his cups that night. Apparently, he and Lord Ormund Hightower had entered a drinking contest and this morning, he was still suffering the ill aftereffects. Even Lord Ormund hadn’t recovered fully. When you were leaving, you had seen him creeping about the apartments from the direction of Tyland’s quarters, seemingly determined to not be caught even though he hadn’t noticed you watching him.

“Pity he wasn’t scared off entirely,” Aemond murmurs and Daeron laughs loudly, disrupting the otherwise peaceful tranquility of the garden. Queen Alicent gives him a sharp warning and you can’t quite suppress your giggle at the way Daeron ducks down in shame.

He bounces back easily enough though, looking like the mischievous little brother that Helaena had always told you he was. “Perhaps your cousin will win the joust and crown you Queen of Love and Beauty.”

You grimace at the thought. “Perhaps though I’d really rather he not. That might send the wrong impression to the rest of the court. He’s unmarried like I am and I’d really rather people didn’t think he was keen on me.”

“Is he keen on you?” Aemond asks and you turn to frown at him. He doesn’t relent, watching you with interest.

“I’m fairly certain he has a mistress back in Lannisport that he wants to marry. His father isn’t too keen on the marriage but she’s a powerful merchant’s daughter. He’ll relent eventually even if she isn’t of noble class,” you say, shrugging carelessly. “Unplanned children have a way of forcing reluctant fathers’ hands. Tygett also isn’t particularly skilled at jousting either. He’s better at archery and there is no crown in those competitions.”

Daeron laughs at that. “Perhaps if he fails during the joust, he can succeed during the melee. There is a crown there. His mistress can’t mind if he wins you a crown. You’re his blood even if you are unmarried. She can’t find any fault in that.”

You smile tightly. “We’ll see, my prince.” While a small girlish part of you that you could never quite repress wanted to be crowned Queen of Love and Beauty in front of the royal court like in the songs, you couldn’t see Tygett being the one to give it to you. He wasn’t terribly unskilled but he also wasn’t a grand warrior that would dominate the competition. More likely than not, he would place somewhere respectable in both the joust and the melee and focus more attention on the archery event where the prize was gold rather than a crown woven out of flowers.

Your best chance of being crowned would come from, unfortunately enough, Victor Florent. He was a skilled warrior and he had won a few tourneys in other kingdoms before he came to King’s Landing. The thought of Victor Florent being the one to place a crown on your head, however, in front of everyone (and most importantly, in front of Aemond) made you shiver and you glance over at the Queen and Helaena, willing them to finish their conversation quickly so you could escape this one.

Your wish is quickly granted and, after a few moments, Alicent sends Helaena over to the three of you with a nod and a more than awkward pat on the back

Smiling in relief, you turn to the princes. “While, contrary to someone’s belief, I would never dare to order around two princes, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask both of you to leave. Unfortunately, the tea is ladies only.”

Aemond nods, rising to his feet as he nudges his brother to do the same, and you stand up as well to give your farewells. “Well then, my lady, I hope you and my sister enjoy yourselves at the tea.”

You beam. “I imagine I will, my prince. Lady Baela will be sitting by my side. I can only expect that we have much to catch up on.”

Aemond doesn’t smile but the look in his eye sharpens and you know that he is pleased.

——————————–

Baela Targaryen walks into the gardens like she’s walking onto a battlefield. Her head is held high and her glowing eyes scan the gardens, looking for allies where you know she will find none. This is the Queen’s court, after all, and a daughter of Daemon Targaryen will not have an easy path to forging alliances. You watch her for a moment, trying to gauge her. There’s little hint of her father in her features. In looks at least, she’s Laena Targaryen’s daughter, from her smooth dark skin to the halo of white curls that frame her face. Her stance, however, seems to be all her father’s. She stands awkwardly at the entrance of the garden, tense and ready for a fight if the occasion were to call for it.

You don’t think her father prepared for the type of battles most common in King’s Landing, however.

A friendly smile pasted onto your face, you walk towards her and bow your head, dipping into a curtsey. “Lady Baela,” you greet and Baela looks startled to be approached so early, before she’s had the chance to settle herself. Her father and Princess Rhaenys have kept her far from court. She doesn’t know how to hide what she’s feeling. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your time at King’s Landing thus far.”

“I have, yes,” she says slowly, eyes scanning you carefully. She recognizes you - there’s no way she doesn’t - but she doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know how to fall in step with the dance you’re coaxing her into. Prince Daemon’s daughter must be all fire and blood - she wasn’t made for the niceties of court. She’d be a better successor to the Sea Snake than little Luke Strong could ever be. “It’s been so long, my Lady Lannister, since we’ve seen each other last. It was at Driftmark, was it not? During my mother’s funeral and that night after?” She phrases it like a question but her eyes make it clear that she’s not asking.

No subtleties, no nuances. She goes straight to the point, bringing up the elephant in the room. You almost want to applaud her for her boldness but instead, you simply sharpen your smile. “Yes, it has been. You’ve been at Driftmark for several years now, haven’t you?”

Baela eyes you, clearly suspicious. You wonder if she remembers the night in the great hall as clearly as you do. She must remember you fighting back tears as you held Helaena’s hand and stood by Aemond’s side. She doesn’t trust you, someone who clearly allied with the enemies of her father.

She’d do well to hide her true intentions, you think. King’s Landing is the home of liars and tricksters. Prince Daemon could not last long here - not with his reckless nature and rash impulses. She will suffer the same fate if she’s not careful.

As much as you long to see that thoughtfulness culminate in her and her family’s fall from grace, now was not the time for it. Not now and not soon.

“Yes, it’s been nearly six years since I moved to Driftmark.” Baela finally responds, twisting her hands in front of her. “It’s been nice to live with my cousins.”

You nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Behind the two of you, a dutiful maid follows to place Baela’s, or rather the Velaryons’, present on a quickly growing stack of gifts. You briefly wonder if anyone other than yourself bothered to try and get the Princess something she would like rather than what was traditional. “It must be so nice to spend time with your kin - meaning your mother’s, of course. I recently got to travel back to Casterly Rock for the birth of my brother. I’ve grown to love the Red Keep but it is quite different to be somewhere surrounded by only your own house and family.”

“Congratulations on your house’s new heir,” She responds, more out of instinct than truly meaning it and you fight back a laugh at her less-than-enthusiastic tone. “And yes, I do enjoy spending time with my kin. I grew up in Essos, in the city-state of Pentos, and only met the rest of my house when I was ten.”

As you near the table, you spot Helaena, looking quiet and anxious by her mother’s side as she greets the ladies as they enter. She’s not quite as drawn and pale as she had been at the feast the night before but she is still far from comfortable addressing new people she has never spoken to before. You pray to the Seven that everything will go smoothly before turning back to Baela.

“I’ve read much about Pentos,” you reply, smiling honestly now. Years ago, you and Aemond had devoured all the books you could find about the Free Cities and had talked about visiting them with the kind of earnestness that only children could have. You’ve both grown past those childhood promises but even still, there’s a little girl in you that wants to see more of the world. “Is it as beautiful as the books say?”

Baela looks relieved to be moving on from dangerous conversation and a true smile blossoms on her face. “It is. The Narrow Sea is kinder there, not as treacherous and cold as it is by Driftmark. My mother used to take me and my sister down to the shores to play in the water. We would always explore the city whenever we had the chance. It was so… free.”

“That reminds me of the Sunset Sea,” you softly say, resisting the urge to play with the Lannister necklace lying against your chest. “My mother would sometimes take me and my sisters down to the beaches to picnic. Sometimes, when he wasn’t busy with other things, my father would join us. He’d always swim deep in the water and dare us to swim after him. All of us were too scared - the water was calm but we had seen how it could turn during the summer storms. None of us wanted to risk it, even on clear and sunny days. Eventually, I grew brave enough to join him and, with the way he had cheered, you’d think I had swum straight through the Sea and discovered what was on the other side.”

You laugh and after a moment, Baela hesitantly joins you. You hadn’t meant to push her, genuinely sharing a piece of your childhood with her, but you had seen the flash of jealousy on her face when you had mentioned your father spending time with you and your sisters.

He didn’t go to comfort her and her sister that night at Driftmark you recall. In your mind’s eye, you can still see so clearly the Targaryen twins huddled by their grandmother’s side, their father on the other side of the room and only moving to defend his future wife and niece rather than his own children. Your own father wasn’t nearly as involved as your mother or even your uncle but he still tried even if he was terribly clumsy in his attempts. You had never doubted whether or not he loved you, never doubted if he would rise to defend you. You’d rather a Jason Lannister as your father than a Daemon Targaryen and for that, you feel a flash of pity for her that you’d rather not feel.

You let her go to greet Helaena and the Queen, watching with a critical eye as she curtseys perfectly and greets her kin. When she finishes, she moves to sit in her assigned seat and you slide in next to her, smiling politely at her again. For a few moments, you both sit in silence before Helaena and Queen Alicent finish greeting everyone and move to sit at the table, Alicent at the head and Helaena at your side.

Alicent gives a pretty speech about thanking the women of the court for being here to help usher her daughter into the next stage of her life and, when she finishes, servants begin to serve tea and small dishes as the musicians play soft, tinkling music in the background. Conversation starts as all the ladies turn to their companions sitting next to them, voices loud and merry.

With Helaena distracted next to you by some small toy you vaguely remember Aegon gifting her years ago, you turn to Baela to continue your conversation.

“How do you find Driftmark then, my lady? I can’t see it being much like Pentos even if it is located on the same sea,” you ask, reaching for a cup of tea to have something to distract your hands.

Baela tilts her head. “It is very different but it is, like you said, comforting to have family around. My grandfather’s brother Vaemond has always been kind and he has two daughters around my age. They keep me company. It is not quite the same as having my sister, however.”

Vaemond Velaryon.

You fight the urge to immediately pounce on that. You vaguely remember his speech in High Valyrian from Lady Laena’s funeral though you mainly remember not understanding a single word of it. What you do remember is that, in the weeks after, Aemond had explained to you that the speech had served as a thinly veiled insult to Princess Rhaenyra, essentially attacking her in the open for having had bastards that were so clearly not of the Velaryon line.

Baela talking about her uncle fondly meant much even if she had not intended it to. She always referred to her house being House Velaryon, rather than Targaryen, and she didn’t seem to consider Rhaenyra a family member even if she was married to Prince Daemon. That, coupled with the resentment she couldn’t quite hide at the mention of fathers, revealed much about the current state of the alliance between House Velaryon and House Targaryen.

Fighting to hide a smile, you reach for another sip of your tea. “No, cousins can never quite fill in for sisters - no matter how much you may long for them to do so. Do you speak much with your sister? Or your step-brothers?”

Baela looks at you carefully, her amethyst eyes weary. Whatever she is looking for in your face, however, she is sure to not find. Years in the capitol have taught you how to hide your emotions and, for right now, you’re only the perfectly innocent lady asking typical questions at a tea. “I write my sister as often as the ravens can fly. I… I sometimes exchange letters with Jace if the occasion calls for it.”

It’s a shame the Sea Snake is at war. He’d teach you how to better hide your own feelings, you think, nodding your head at Baela. “How is Prince Jacaerys? It’s been so terribly long since he and his brothers and mother last visited the capitol. Does he miss it?”

Her face seizes at the question before she manages to wipe it clean. “He is fine. He is training to be a king at his mother’s side, training to be a son worthy of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon.”

You bite back a laugh. He may be a son of House Targaryen but he is not a Velaryon. You and I both know that.

Baela eyes you, clearly weighing her words as she considers who you are in relation to the royal family, and you can see the exact moment the wild nature that Aemond had warned you about kicks in. “Jace will make an excellent king,” she says, voice so firm that you almost believe that she believes it. “It’s an auspicious sign to be born with a dragon, after all. He did not have to claim or steal one.”

It’s clear enough bait.

Still, it’s one you’re willing to take.

You grin, raising your tea cup at her in a toast. “Of course, my lady! I would never dare to imply otherwise. Prince Jacaerys has always been strong since birth. Let us drink to his education! May he, and your house, grow ever strong in the future.”

A glimmer of begrudging respect flickers onto her face before she smothers it down in favor of mockingly raising her cup in return, her eyes flashing in warning.

You only grin wider before turning to join Helaena’s side.

#aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #a tourney is coming up soon babes and i wonder how THAT'LL go (:

185 notes · View notes