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what-a-weird-rose · 7 months

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Jegulily: The Things I Want to Do to You (And for You to Do to Me)

Pairing: Regulus Black / James Potter / Lily Evans

Rating: E

Prompt: Threesome

Word Count: 5.6 k

The town is quiet as the morning begins; Regulus can hear the bakers calling from the open windows as they instruct one another to complete various tasks. It's on mornings such as these that Regulus remembers why he relishes working alone- why he was overjoyed at the prospect of owning the shop himself.

He recalls the day clearly in his mind’s eye as he slips his tunic over his head and stuffs his woolen-socked feet into leather boots. Sirius had finally succeeded in escaping the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and he’d offered Regulus the chance to flee with him to a neighboring kingdom willing to harbor two runaway lords. He recalls as he walks down the spiral stairs the face of anguish that overtook his brother’s features as Regulus denied him, though it would be for the best. Regulus was scared, of course that was a factor to his staying, but he also was prideful, perhaps even more so than Sirius. Regulus refused to allow the House that had burnt them so badly to stand strong after him- if he was to leave, he was going to burn everything down around him first.

He’d started by ensuring safety for his allies, family that had protected the brothers when their mother’s rage consumed her and their father’s drink consumed him. Then, he focused on friends that the House would pull down with; there were certain people he was willing to let burn, others he spent long nights tracking safety for.

In the end, Regulus managed to tear the House of Black down from the inside. Over the course of two years, he planted seeds of doubt in his paranoid father’s head as to the loyalty of his advisors; he used Orion’s drinking against his mother, and Walburga’s rage against his father. Regulus had proven what so many had known for so long: the only thing that could permanently destroy the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was itself. There was nothing left within the rubble. His cousins were married off -both Bellatrix and Narcissa safe behind the walls of houses Lestrange and Malfoy, respectively, and Andromeda had found a farm boy to love somewhere far enough where the family couldn’t track her. All Regulus had left to do was find his brother, which was far easier said than done.

He had half expected Sirius to show up as the House imploded on itself, to watch the desecration of their family from the outside as he’d always wanted. But Sirius never came. For a long time, Regulus wondered if he was somewhere so far that he was unable to receive news as to the outcome of his blood- or worse, he could receive it and simply chose not to. Not until three years after the fall of House Black did Regulus hear news of the brother he’d lost. Sirius was living in the neighboring kingdom he'd once spoken about, living the noble life without the responsibility. Regulus had kicked himself, of course Sirius had stayed close!

It was a week-long journey from the old family home Regulus had taken to staying in -just because he’d desecrated his family didn’t mean he gave up all their funds- to the outskirts of the kingdom, Gryffindor. Sirius did not receive him when Regulus arrived, as he was informed by the kindly staff, the man was in the heart of the kingdom with the prince -likely causing mischief, one of the maids had said ruefully.

Regulus arrives at the bottom of the stairs and surveys the shop- nothing out of the ordinary, not that he’d expected much. For the first few years after the fall, Regulus had become almost as paranoid as his father, constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop hard. The retaliation he’d expected never came, likely because all the House’s friends were also its greatest enemies, and seemed content to lap at the rewards which came from staying far out of Regulus’ way.

He'd had the forethought to stock the shelves last night before turning in, and he thanked himself for it. Something about the way the shop smelled as the fresh herbs and spices, pages and ink, and bubbling cauldrons, mixed in the air gave him a wonderful feeling of safety. Regulus takes pride in the way the space looks; he thinks it's only natural after he spent so long carefully renovating the inside.

He walks languidly over the door, where he flips the sign and opens the two curtains over the giant stained-glass windows. He stares for a moment at the light that refracts through the yellow and orange glass onto the floor; the sun design was created by Pandora, and it floods both the room and Regulus with warm light.

Customers come and go in waves, Regulus found early on, he’s especially busy near the holidays -particularly busy near the holidays for the old religion. People want spices and herbs for medicine, they want colorful ink and carefully creased parchment for letters and notes, and they want specially made tonics for various specific ailments. Regulus likes being needed. He likes knowing that Madam Fulk will come in every other day to get a tonic for her husband’s bad knee, and he likes knowing that she still wants Regulus to come to their Sunday dinners, even though her son came back from traveling over a month prior. He likes knowing that his life has an impact on others’.

Today isn’t much different as he sets aside a book on pediatric medicine for Missus Lhun, who can’t afford the prices of the physician’s medicine -which Regulus can make better and for significantly less. He hears the chime of the little bell Sirius had installed, and makes a vague greeting as he continues to scour his shelf for a book that he knows is there.

“Hello, excuse me,” he hears a quiet voice say. And, he’s heard that voice before- or, rather, he’s heard that tone before, desperately wanting to be heard, but being too fearful to say anything too loud.

Regulus turns around to greet this person properly before dropping The Matron’s Guide to Pediatric Care by Madam Pomfrey on the ground, his jaw following quickly after.

Lily Evans is, by far, the most beautiful woman in the kingdom of Gryffindor. Fiery red hair and piercing green eyes- she puts all other women to shame. Or so Regulus has heard.

He isn’t quite sure what to make of her at first, of course she’s beautiful, she wouldn’t have made it half as far as a woman on stage without being beautiful, he hears his drunken-father say. But there is more to her, he gathers quickly as she scowls at him as he lifts off the floor, book in hand. Evans wears a large sunhat, which is made to cover her hair, yet fails to conceal anything else about her, frankly, recognizable figure. Her clothes are clearly too nice for the area, fitting more to the high society, grand houses nearest to the castle proper; her wrists are adorned with gold bands encrusted with emeralds and peridots. Regulus can tell she isn’t meant to be here, and she obviously is aware of it too.

“You’re Black, yes?” She says suddenly, with an air of urgency. Before he has the mind to reply she says, “Regulus Black? A friend of mind said you might be able to help me out.” Regulus nods dumbly, playing with the fraying corners of the pediatrics books.

Evans stares at him for a moment, as if expecting him to read her mind, before scoffing and setting a small box on the counter.

“What is this?” Regulus asks finally after a few moments; Evans sighs, as if deeply put upon.

“My engagement ring.” She lifts the lid of the velvet box to reveal a large gold banded ring with several large gemstones encrusted into it.

“You must like green,” Regulus adds airily, trying desperately to recall if he ever advertised ring resizing, or recoloring, or anything in relation to jewelry at all.

“He left it in my post box- my post box!” She hisses, digging her nails into the wooden counter before her, “and he knows damn well I can’t return it! How exactly does one walk up to the crown prince and say, ‘hmm actually, I don’t quite feel like marrying you, here you are.’?”

Regulus stutters to a stop, suddenly filled with too much information to handle at once. “The crown prince? James Potter?” Evans nods solemnly, as if close to becoming resigned to her fate. “What exactly do you want me to do with it?”

Evans sighs before becoming incredibly stiff and turning toward the door, “for now, hide me!” She shouts, throwing herself behind the counter and crouching down near Regulus’ feet as her pretty white and pastel pink dress flared out.

As Evans looks up at him with a look of desperation, Regulus hears the sharp chime of the door again.

He feels the energy within the shop shift dangerously as his eyes meet with one James Potter.

Regulus thinks he is certainly going to die. He can feel Evans’ hand pressing on his foot as she shifts silently to sit against the counter with her dress puffed up around her. And he can feel, and see, as James Potter, crown prince, rakes his eyes over Regulus, as if analyzing some great mystery.

“You’re Sirius’ brother.” James says with finality, as though the truth of it matters less than his perception of the matter. “Told me about you, said you didn’t want to come here, we’re ‘too airheaded,’ here in Gryffindor,” James suddenly gets very close to the counter, and Regulus realizes with great clarity that he was doomed the moment he woke up.

James scoffs then, smacking his belt with a hard hand before surveying the shop, “quite the place you’ve got yourself. Gryffindor must not be too bad, huh?” He asks, and Regulus thinks for a very long second that his head is about to be forcibly removed from his neck, before James Potter, crown prince, turns back to him with a broad grin and gleaming eyes.

“What?” Regulus asks dumbly, almost as confused about this as when Sirius asked about what women felt like during sex.

James Potter, crown prince, laughs fondly, as if he’d known Regulus all their lives, and says jovially, “you felled the great House of Black, and for that,” he steps back two paces before dramatically bowing, “I am in your debt.”

Regulus thinks -which he is certain he needs to stop doing- and wonders if he’s actually about to die, because he feels really close to it.

James walks all about the shop, calling out loudly when he finds something interesting -dye for one’s hair, long needles for weaving large bundles of herbs, and the old book that Regulus keeps in the back of non-specialized tonics he can make within the day. He wanders and points things out and carries things back to the counter when he realizes that Regulus is planted at his station -Lily keeps a death grip on his ankle through the whole ordeal, he isn’t sure if its for his sake, her’s, or the both of them.

James wanders about like a small child allowed free-reign in a candy shop, except somehow worse, because James Potter, crown prince, brings forth small trinkets and books from the shelves and asks in depth questions about them.

Evans remains huddled by Regulus’ feet, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth as she listens intently to James’ pattering around the shop.

An hour later, James Potter, crown prince, leaves, exclaiming, “I’ll be back Regulus Black, mark my words!”

Evans sighs deeply as the door shuts behind him, she reaches up and Regulus has the good sense to grasp her wrists to aid her. He pulls her as gently as he can and feels his heart stutter as her face blooms red.

“I’m so sorry- I- He- damnit,” Evans stumbles over her words, like a fawn that hasn’t gotten used to its legs yet. She tries again, “I didn’t realize he’d followed me here, I’m sorry.” She makes her way back to the other side of the counter, biting her bottom lip. “You probably want an explanation, don’t you.”

Regulus nods, and watches dumbfounded as she places the velvet box back onto the counter.

“I got this in my post box last night, I suppose I could’ve thought nothing of it, except its so. . . specific, here, look,” Evans pulls the ring out of the box and allows him to peer into the inner curve where the distinct carving of Evermore could be seen in the dim glow of candlelight. “It’s a thing- sort of hard to explain that part, but I know it's him. Especially now.” She sucked in a deep breath before returning the ring to its box and continuing, “he was outside the theater when I finished my last show for the afternoon; he was asking me if I got his proposal, what I thought, the whole thing, and I just. . . I got overwhelmed, James isn’t a bad guy by any means he’s just. . .”

“A lot.” Regulus finishes for her, gathering enough courage to lay a gentle hand over-top of her's. “I think I can only imagine,” he says cheekily, feeling his face flush as she grasps his hand.

“I tried to tire him out by running about town, but that man has more stamina than brains, I fear,” they chuckle, and Regulus’ stomach swoops as her thumb swipes gently back and forth on the back of his hand. “I’d never seen your shop before today, and I thought that maybe it could provide me enough cover to ward him off for now.” Regulus shrugs noncommittally and Evans laughs heartily. “You did help a lot, Regulus. Even if you think you didn’t. You could’ve given me away and faced no consequence, but you help your tongue.” Evans pulls back and tucks the velvet box into the pouch by the waistband of her skirt, “for what it’s worth, thank you, Regulus.” She places a peck on his cheek before scampering out of the shop, looking left and right out the door before darting down the road.

Regulus is absolutely certain he’s finally dead.

Once the sun is low beneath the horizon, Regulus trudges upstairs on aching feet, thinking back on the day’s events.

His regular customers came in as scheduled, greeting him cheerfully and making polite conversation. But there was something so off- so consuming about the Evans-James Potter, crown prince, situation.

The interaction replays in his mind’s eye as he pours hot water into the porcelain tub. He ignores the slight stinging to his skin as he sinks down into the warm depth of the bath, resting his head on the lip of the tub, and recalling every detail he possibly can.

Regulus wakes the next morning more exhausted than when he’d fallen asleep. His mind was muddled with confusing narratives that contradicted and pressed against his skull, leaving him with a blinding migraine that he could do little for. As much as he was able and willing to sell medicinal tonics to others, there was something -likely deeply ingrained in him by his mother- that shot down any implication of taking medicine, especially for pain.

So, Regulus suffered. Through the long day, even as the sun began to lower along the horizon, his migraine remained, steadfast in its intrusion. He was more careful than ever, double checking ingredients, rereading written orders, and reconfirming every detail thrice before acting on anything.

He’s wiping down his cutting board when he hears the bell chime once more. Regulus doesn’t have to look up to know that it's late- too late to be coming in expecting anything grand from him, his mind supplies begrudgingly. He feels slow, like he’s wading through thick honey, trying desperately not to drown in it.

Eventually, Regulus is forced to look up at the guest as he literally feels their eyes bore into him like a blade, sharp and unwavering.

“Hello again, Evans,” he says slowly, trying to ignore the intense smell of her perfume, which wafts in his direction and seems hellbent on suffocating him.

Evans seems pleased to finally have his attention, and begins her visit by dropping the small box back on his counter, “I know it's late, but I was wondering if there is any way you can. . . I don’t know, ward him off, he’s very persistent.”

Regulus laughs despite himself and shuffles up to the counter, peering down at the box, “I’m no wizard, Evans, unfortunately I am only capable of relatively modern sciences.”

Evans sighs, but she seems hardly displeased. If anything, she seems to have done it to keep up a front.

“Tell me, Miss Evans, why exactly do you refuse him?” Regulus implores, and sets to work grinding cinnamon and dried holly.

Evans stares at him, and Regulus wonders how she became so renowned for her acting when she was so obvious in her face. Then, she clears her throat, leans over the counter slightly, and speaks: “He’s arrogant, that for starters, he thinks just because he’s the prince that he can get anything- anyone he wants. He’s crude, I’ve heard his ‘jokes’, his commentary on the castle maids.” She sniffs, and Regulus is reminded, oddly, of Bellatrix, before she went bonkers and was married off to the highest -re: most tolerable- bidder. Evans holds the same haughtiness, the same unshakable pride, the quick-wit, but, perhaps most disturbingly, they share the same glint in their eyes as they recall the sins of those that have wronged them.

Regulus shudders.

“I see,” He says eventually as the room fills with tense silence, “he certainly seemed villainous when he was in here just yesterday,” Regulus continues, and Evans narrows her eyes, as if completely aware of where he intends to go. “I do say, I suspect the crown prince must be. . .” He pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice and looking around the shop, “a puppy-slayer.”

Regulus expects Lily to roll her eyes and scoff, to huff and leave him to the mercy of his -ever growing- migraine. Instead, she laughs loudly as one of the cauldrons behind him gives a loud, crude-sounding, burp.

“I suspect the crown prince may have something to do with that, too.”

James Potter, crown prince, enters Regulus' shop three days after his original visit. He enters quietly, save for the chime of the bell, and shuffles to the back of the parlor to unsubtly watch as Regulus tends to the only customer in the building.

Leila Strong was not living up to her name, as it goes. She had developed a horrible cough over the spring that still had worn even into the late summer. Regulus had gone through every remedy, every medicine the physician had prescribed her -discounted until he could prove it would work- and had seen no results. His pride was almost wounded, and would be in shambles had he prescribed the too expensive medicines to her. Now, she sat in front of his counter, cane resting on the leg of the chair he’d pulled up for her, asking what to do next.

“There aren't many other options, I can always tell you to go to Madam Pomfrey, but other than that, any stronger brew would be subject to investigation by the Crown. And you know how they are.” She laughs, though it's breathy and deprived of real joy.

“I’ll see if I can’t make the trip over, but you know how it gets. . .” Regulus nods, and, even though he has never really struggled, not in the way the people in the lower town have, he’s seen it. He’s seen true desperation, he’s felt the fear that comes with knowing death is following you, waiting for you to misstep. Leila nods, grasping his hand in her own before fiddling with her cane and standing, hobbling toward the exit.

“A gentleman would’ve offered to escort the lady out.” James Potter, crown prince, states proudly, and Regulus wonders if James is about to run off to make the offer himself.

Regulus pushes the chair Leila was just in into the corner, “I tried once, she threatened to beat my skull in with her cane if I ever implied she was incapable of walking by herself again.” Regulus almost revels in the shock that registers on James’ face. James Potter, crown prince, he mentally adds.

“Oh.” James says, though it seems distant, as if he’s lost in thought, “has she not gone to see the physicians?”

Regulus snorts, and James looks thoroughly offended, “of course she has,” Regulus says, pulling two books off the shelf, “they go to the physicians, get prescribed something or other for whatever their ailment is, and bring the prescription and problem here. I figure out what exactly it is they are being given, I make it better than the physicians could dream of making it, and charge less than the physicians would ever be willing to make it.” Regulus rolls his shoulders, sitting on his stool and flipping through pages, “that’s what I do here.”

James nods slowly, as if taking small bites of the information while trying desperately to digest it all.

“You know Lily Evans, don’t you?” James Potter, crown prince, asks suddenly.

“I’ve certainly heard of her, never been to one of her shows.” Regulus lies about both things; he’s very good at lying, or so he’s been told.

“She came in here a few days ago, I think.” James says without any of his usual bravado or confidence.

“I think I’d remember if Lily Evans came into my shop.” Regulus replies haughtily, and he finds himself sniffing, not unlikely Lily had.

“I suppose you would, wouldn’t you.” James replies, though he sounds slightly more suspicious than before. “Are you certain, though?”

Regulus nods, and resents the clenching of his heart as James’ face falls.

"Er Regulus?"

“Yes?”

“Uh- nevermind, I’ll just- well, I-” James grabs his hand, placing a gentle kiss against the soft skin on the back of it, before dropping it and making a mad dash for the door.

Two days after the utterly confusing encounter with James Potter, crown prince, Regulus experienced the most odd, strange, and baffling thing he’d ever managed in all his days.

The morning started normally, mind. He’d woken without a headache for the first time in days, and felt thoroughly energized through the early morning and into the mid-afternoon. By supper, he had attended to seven separate customers who all intended to order specialized tonics, which Regulus was all too pleased to agree to.

Then, in the most bizarre fashion. The door to his shop was slammed open while he was in the midst of battle with an aloe vera leaf- viciously clawing at each other until Regulus eventually got the upper hand. Only to find both Lily Evans and James Potter, crown prince, trying to crowd into his shop at light speed, talking over one another at impossible paces.

Both were speaking to him, he gathered as he tried to -very subtly- remove his greasy, frilling pink apron -which Dorcas had gotten him- while the two seemed to battle against each other through sheer volume alone.

“Oh, and Regulus you’re just too-”

“Wonderful, and I thought I was in love with her-”

“But there is something about you, and I can’t help but think-”

“What if it was you all along?”

Back and forth, over and over, the two sparred, desperately trying to gain his attention.

Regulus’ eyes bounced back and forth between the two, never lingering longer than their portion of the conversation -if you could call this a conversation- called for.

“Hold on, hold on! What are you two on about?”

Lily spoke first, her voice loud and clear enough to subdue James Potter, crown prince, for a half-second, “I want you, Regulus, I wish to court you properly, starting tonight with supper.”

James recoiled, sending a glare that didn’t at all fit his features to her, “no, that cannot happen! Regulus, I wish to court you, starting tonight! Come to the palace, I’ll show you everything I can offer you.”

“Oh, please! Regulus, refuse him and come with me, we’ll have supper at Benjy’s.”

On and on, they continued, seemingly unaware of Regulus’ swaying back and forth.

His mind reeled as he half-heartedly listened to their bickering.

“What if-” He pauses as they silence immediately, and he is suddenly reminded of growing up in the silence of Grimmauld Manor, of whispers that were always too loud, of never being quiet enough. “What if I don’t want one of you?”

They both seem to deflate as they take in the words, and Regulus is left to backtrack to the best of his ability.

“No, no, I mean- damn- both! What if I want both of you?” James’ head snaps to stare at him as if Regulus were the most brilliant person to have ever walked to the earth; Lily’s eyes widen as she looks James up and down before turning back to Regulus.

“I’ll accept it, if only because you’re worth it.”

James laughs from deep with his stomach. He takes two long strides forward toward Regulus and lifts large hands to his cheeks, “I’ve waited so long for this; say yes?”

Regulus thinks he’s ascended, “yes.”

James presses his lips against Regulus’ softly, deepening the connection after Regulus relaxes.

“James Potter, you whore!” Lily yells indignantly, yanking the taller boy off of Regulus.

The next thing Regulus is aware of is Lily's soft, plush lips against his own and her lithe fingers threading through the short little hairs at the base of his skull. Somewhere in the background he can hear James scoff unhappily, and Regulus thinks desperately for a solution. He figures, eventually, to reach a hand out and allow James free reign of his neck and shoulders. This, of course, meant he’d have to remove his tunic, interrupting Lily’s flow and-

“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” Regulus says, ending their bickering for a moment as he leads them, Lily in front, James behind, up the spiral staircase and into his private chambers. “Now,” Regulus says, placing a finger over James’ lips to pause him, “no arguing, if you want to be here, you have to play nice, and-” his brain short circuits as he watches James lift his own tunic over his head. “Um- well, be nice, and all that-” Regulus moans loudly as James continues his ministrations on Regulus’ neck, making quick work of marking fair skin.

Lily follows suit, taking Regulus’ hands in her own and tracing the gentle curve of her breasts with his hands. She slips from her skirts and unties her corset until she is left in only her slips, of which she pulls off as easily as James had.

Lily continues to grope herself with Regulus’ hands as James makes use of Regulus’ mouth, shoving his tongue into Regulus’ mouth as though he’d die otherwise.

James kisses him like nothing else- as though there were nowhere else he’d rather be; Lily seemed to be in agreement as she breathily moaned Regulus’ name as she squeezed her breasts with his hands.

James separated from the kiss, running his hands up and down Regulus’ sides, looking at Lily and communicating with her via only eye contact. James’ hands were suddenly under his tunic running flat against Regulus’ torso.

“Yes?” Lily asks, kissing up Regulus’ hand to his forearm. Regulus nods, not trusting enough in his voice to say anything.

James yanks up his tunic, exposing Regulus’ upper body entirely to the chill of the room. His nipples harden and his skin breaks out in goosebumps.

Lily giggles as she grasps his cheeks within her hands, pulling him down slightly to kiss.

If kissing James is like a hurricane, fast and wild, kissing Lily is like a tornado, fast and wild, yes, but for very different reasons.

Her fingers find purchase in those same small hairs at the base of his skull, providing her ample leverage over the tilt of his head. She uses her newfound control to lean his head backwards, and subsequently onto James’ shoulder, to provide space on his neck for her to mark -at least where James had not already been.

James holds onto Regulus’ waist and hips, running large, calloused hands up and down Regulus’ sides, and pulling him back just enough to feel James’ hard cock pressing against his pants.

Regulus wonders for a moment if Lily is as wet as he -and he suppose James- is hard; he considers until he realizes that he is allowed to check that sort of thing.

His hand shoots out from his side and slips between Lily’s legs to find a considerable wetness. Regulus almost smirks as Lily whines before realizing that James has burrowed into the crook of his neck as he humps lazily against Regulus’ ass.

“James, up.” Regulus instructs, and he is instantly aware of how much control he has. Jame rises from the bed, where he’d been kneeling on the mattress. Regulus points towards the end of the bed, and waits for James to get situated before arranging Lily at the pillows.

Lily lays on her back, head resting comfortably against the mountain of pillows as Regulus leans down and gives a solid lick to her cunt. She gives a mixture of a giggle and moan as Regulus licks again and again, hand reaching up at some point to begin twisting and pulling and playing with her nipples.

James watches, kneeling at the end of the bed, as Regulus licks Lily’s cunt viciously. He strokes his cock slowly, observing every motion either body makes as they are absorbed by their pleasure. He worries his lip for a moment, concerned they’d forgotten him, before Regulus daintily lifts his ass off the mattress and pushes up against James’ cock. He groans, and forgets immediately about any doubt he’d had.

James uses the small vial of lube -he loathes thinking of another man using it for Regulus- to stretch Regulus’ ass. He works his middle finger in first, listening intently as Regulus moans against Lily’s clit, sending her into a frenzy of almost-orgasm. She grasps Regulus’ hair and pulls him off her while she pants.

“Not yet, not yet.” She breathes over and over, as if she were trying to convince herself. Regulus submits to her, though he does slyly continue in the form of licking and nipping at her thighs and hips.

James presses another finger into Regulus’ tight hole once he thinks the first is ready. He burns the image of Regulus biting Lily’s inner thigh to stifle the volume of his moan.

After a few minutes of scissoring and allowing spit to fall from his tongue and onto the crack of Regulus’ ass, James decides he’s ready to add a final finger in.

He pumps desperately, trying to stretch Regulus quickly and thoroughly. Once Regulus believes himself ready, he swings his free hand behind himself, as he continues to suck at Lily’s cunt, and gives a nice loud smack to his ass cheek.

James blushed a violent crimson as he stroked his cock with the lube-he-didn’t-want-to-think-about and began stuffing Regulus’ ass full with his cock.

Regulus lifts his head slightly away from Lily’s cunt as he focuses entirely on James’ cock filling him from behind. He whines as he feels Lily’s fingers on those short strands maneuvering his face toward her left breast, when she petted his cheek while he sucked her nipple.

“Pretty, pretty boy.” Lily says softly, eyes peering over Regulus’ shoulder to watch James’ cock push in and out of Regulus’ hole.

James grunts his agreement, hands finding stability resting on Regulus’ hips as he rocks them back and forth.

Regulus whines as he focuses on the sensations: Lily’s fingers running through his curls, James’ hands on his hips holding him steady, James cock balls-deep in his ass, and Lily tit in his mouth. He sucked like his light depended on it, pulling her nipple between his teeth and sucking it less-than-gently.

He feels a sharp slap to his ass before he realizes what he’d done.

“Bad, bad Regulus.” Lily admonishes, pulling him by the hair away from her breasts -which were red- and back toward her cunt, which he would hardly protest.

James tutted, hand smoothing over the skin that he’d smack, squeezing and pinching Regulus' ass.

James thrusts again and again into that wonderful, tight heat, lost in it as the world fades to leave only Regulus, Lily, and himself. He feels his balls tighten in that wonderful way they do when he’s about to cum.

“I’m- fuck- I’m cumming.” James says before pulling his cock out of Regulus and tapping aggressively on his ass check before cumming hard and fast across Regulus long, pale back.

Lily cums not long after him, toes curling as her thighs snapped shut around Regulus’ head, which he didn’t seem to mind. James watches happily as Lily curls in on herself before stretching out, moaning very loudly.

Regulus cums last, immediately after Lily as he’d taken to dry humping the mattress for some reprieve. His cock hangs heavy and low under him as he shoots cum on the bed sheets.

#(smutty) tales from the hogwarts broom closets #tales from the hogwarts broom closests #marauders #young marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #mwpp #mwpp era #regulus black #james potter #lily evans #jegulily #smut

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 5 days

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Chapter 79 - Corona

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: around every 2-3 weeks

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Not much seemed to have changed; Fabian thought to himself as he walked through the narrow streets of Corona, glancing up at the castle repeatedly. At least some of the high towers with the onion domes were always visible from almost anywhere in the city, making it easier to find the way there. The sun was high and the domes shone in their bright green colour. Some of the castle's side extensions looked so impossibly cramped that you couldn't help but wonder what the rooms behind them looked like. Did anyone live there at all or were they just rooms for storing precious things, with a small window for a view of the city below and to let in some light?

Fabian had never been to the castle himself, not even on the days of civic occasions, for regular audiences with their Majesties or simply for court hearings and other official occasions. However, today would be the very first time this would change for him and he was already quite excited and curious at the thought of it. He walked on slowly and curiously, taking in the impressions of the city and refreshing his memories.

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Here in Corona, no two houses were the same and almost without exception they were all lovingly decorated, had specially shaped windows and front doors and some roofs were covered with tiles while others were elaborately decorated with several layers of thatch and often a small turret in between. In the lower part of the town, where he was currently standing, the buildings were mostly lower, usually with shops of various kinds inside and offering at most one storey above. Further up the hill and on the right-hand side of the island, there were buildings with up to three levels and wider streets, as far as he could remember.

The further Fabian progressed into the town, the busier it became and he often struggled to find his way among all the people. Many of them were carrying their shopping home or were at work in front of the shops, florists lined the paths and offered all kinds of flowers, plants and herbs on artistically crafted carts or in front of the shop windows. Fabian couldn't help but inhale the beguiling scent. The noise level also increased the further he progressed. Laughing children ran towards him, mothers often followed with loud admonishing voices and raised index fingers and, last but not least, the unmistakable music of flutes, lutes, violins and drums once again cast a spell over him.

An old memory suddenly appeared before his inner eye and he saw himself as a child standing with his father in the large market square, with the round fountain in the centre, cheering and clapping to the musicians, even dancing with the other children. That must be where the music was coming from and he followed the sounds in a sudden rush. Above him, garlands of flowers hung down over the street and colourful pennants with Corona's emblem, the sun. He knew this song and would not miss out on the coming experience for the world.

Fabian remembered and now knew exactly where he was going and where to turn. Then he had reached the place where the musicians were playing, but it was not the market square with the fountain on it, but the semi-circular square in front of the church, on which the oversized sun symbol was emblazoned with white cobblestones.

It was almost like back then and he watched with great joy as many people danced and jumped to the sounds of the music in a circle around the sun symbol, while the spectators all around clapped their hands rhythmically. It was a moment of pure joy and Fabian couldn't help but clap along loudly, smiling ear to ear. The next moment, for some unknown reason, he had caught the attention of two young female dancers and, laughing, they pulled him into the circle of dancers. It was a good thing that he had observed their dance steps carefully and, in the end, his training as a fencer probably helped him too; he thought as he joined the circle and danced along. The rhythm pulled him with it and at some point all the dancers raised their hands in the air and clapped to the increasing speed of the music.

Fabian felt free and at home, clapping and jumping around the circle with people he didn't even know and didn't want to stop, it was so much fun. Then the dance got even faster. The dancers ran and jumped through the circle of the sun below them and pulled him along with them, laughing. He couldn't help it and tried to keep up as best he could. The clapping above their heads grew louder and louder. Fabian spun around on his own axis and left no doubt about his joy. The joyful faces that gazed back at him as he spun around even intensified the great feeling inside him. The dance finally ended with loud applause and cheers and many of the dancers even hugged each other afterwards.

When Fabian finally caught his breath, he wondered and hoped at the same time that this hadn't been a dance competition. He laughed out loud at himself as he walked on, but this time to the fountain he remembered. Exhausted, he sat down on the edge, dipped his hands in the cool water and slapped his sweaty face. He still had a broad smile on his lips, which some of the bystanders also returned.

Fabian wondered what would have become of him if he hadn't had to flee back then, if this unspeakable incident with his father's death had never happened. Of course, he wouldn't be alive today anyway, but would he have joined in the dance just now or at least clapped enthusiastically to him? Fabian's expression had changed back at these thoughts and instead showed thoughtfulness. His gaze wandered around and finally caught on a nearby mural. It showed a happy-looking young woman with an equally young man beside her, and standing behind them were King Frederic and Queen Ariana with their hands on their shoulders.

Was this the missing member of the royal family? Fabian remembered a day that was repeated every year and on which the king and his wife had ordered thousands of lanterns to be released into the sky at night. If Fabian was not mistaken, this was supposed to be a sign for their daughter so that she could find her way home again one day. So that there on the wall had to be the missing Rapunzel and apparently she had found her way back to her parents after all. Fabian nodded to himself. If he was lucky, he would be facing her in the castle today.

His stomach grumbled and reminded him at that moment that he hadn't eaten very much during the days on the ship. Moreover, it was no comparison to the food here in Corona. He somehow missed that flavour and even Arendelle couldn't offer him that, the two kingdoms were too different when it came to culinary delights. He looked around and tried to remember the way to a good tavern. But his steps surprisingly led him straight to the Brotherhood's fencing school

Why the heck did I end up here of all places; he asked himself and looked around in alarm. Being discovered and recognised now would not be very helpful, quite the opposite. He walked quickly into the next best alleyway and a good distance further on. However, this path led away from his destination, the royal palace. Fabian was about to turn back or look for another route when a very familiar scent wafted around his nose. He followed it and finally stood in front of what he had been looking for — the tavern. Without much hesitation, he entered and sat down at a free table. Now, at lunchtime, the place should be more crowded, but he had ended up in the east of the city, away from the busy parts of Corona.

Fabian shrugged his shoulders, took the menu that the landlord offered him as he walked past and took the opportunity to order a drink whose flavour he could barely remember — a cold beer. Then he read through the menu and came across a dish that made his mouth water. He ordered sausages with sauerkraut and a portion of grilled pork. While he waited, he looked around. It was a little dark in here but not uncomfortable. Only a few guests were present and he avoided eye contact with them.

Shortly afterwards, the landlord had two plates in his hands, one of which he placed next to Fabian and the other next to a guest at the next table. The aroma wafting towards Fabian was spicy and he guessed it was the chilli dish that was on the menu with a little warning. Well, let's see how that turns out, he grinned to himself.

As he savoured the first few bites of his delicious meal, he heard a startled gasp next to him. Fabian had been right in his assumption, because the other guest was waving air into his wide-open mouth with both hands, panting loudly and his face was bright red. His ears seemed to be burning up and the next moment he drained his tankard of beer in one go. Then, waving desperately at the innkeeper, he croaked for another glass of beer.

“Perhaps you'd better eat dry bread to counteract the spiciness,” Fabian half whispered, “and don't drink anything liquid. That just makes it worse, you know?” Then he had to laugh out loud at the astonished face this guest made, quickly changing his order and asking for half a loaf of bread instead.

One table over, another guest's head whipped round and searched the room for the source of the laughter, as Fabian noticed out of the corner of his eye, but thought nothing of it and continued to eat in peace.

“You! I know you!” suddenly said a dark, powerful voice in front of his table.

Fabian looked up in astonishment and found himself face to face with the person whose attention he had just caught.

“Oh yeah?” Fabian replied after swallowing his bite.

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Both stared at each other inquiringly and thoughtfully for a moment and while an evil grin stole into the face opposite him, which was adorned with an old, long scar, it slowly dawned on Fabian and he realised with horror who was standing in front of him. He knew him only too well from his nightmares! This guy was none other than his father's murderer, whose face Fabian was able to mark with a swipe of his sword tip at the very last moment before he escaped with his mate. Fabian was unable to run after them at the time due to his leg injury, but this memory, which had tormented him for decades, now returned in one fell swoop with elemental force.

Fabian slowly stood up and the next moment the other man had a long dagger in his hand, grinning slyly. At the last moment, Fabian was able to dodge the thrust, grabbed the mug of beer in the process and slammed the glass with full force against his opponent's temple. He collapsed with a disappointed, loud cry and in the next moment Fabian was already standing over him and kicked him with the tip of his boot, right in the attacker's face.

He was about to grab the dagger to finish the job once and for all, but his opponent was still quick and alert enough to kick his weapon under the table out of Fabian's reach and scramble up.

A fierce fistfight broke out between the two in the moments that followed. Fabian landed a targeted and brutal blow on his nose, which cracked loudly. Next, he felt the kick of one of his opponent's boots in his privates as he fell over backwards and the fountain of blood from his broken nose sprayed into his face. Fabian groaned, the other guest fled in a hurry and the landlord shouted at both of them.

However, neither of them had realised that three royal guardsmen had been at the back of the room and were now pressing the brawlers to the floor with all the force they could muster. They had appeared out of nowhere and both of them were both extremely surprised and deeply disappointed. Both could not finish the job and now found themselves in the custody of the royal guard.

When Fabian and the other man were finally interrogated in the castle, which was not entirely without blows to the face, the young captain of the guard joined them. He held a wanted poster in his hand, which he now held under Fabian's nose with sparkling eyes.

“We've finally caught you! After so many years,” he said proudly to Fabian. “You'll be put in our deepest dungeon for life! This is the last daylight you'll see,” he added gloatingly. Then he turned to the other prisoner, “And as for you, you'll end up in a cell and be interrogated until you can credibly tell us what it was all about down in the tavern and why he smashed his beer glass in your face and then kicked you! There must be a good reason for that and don't you dare lie to us, because we'll soon find out the truth.”

~~~

At the same time, a lone rider arrived at the palace gates and caused a bit of a commotion among the guards who were on patrol there.

As the tall rider dismounted from his young stallion, a guard from the royal house came running towards him.

“Good evening, commander. We didn't expect to see you again so soon. Was your mission successful?”

“Yes, there will be no further difficulties with the merchant guild, provided they keep their word to regulate the prices of goods in the city in future. However … was there anything urgent at the palace during my absence? Does Her Majesty require my presence in the throne room immediately?”

“No, we have received no such message from Her Majesty, but …,” the guard appeared somewhat nervous and was noticeably hesitant to continue with his report.

“What is it, lieutenant? Judging by your face, there was an incident while I was away, right? I can smell something like that.”

“Indeed, commander. Something has happened in fact. The recently appointed Captain Ernst has thrown us into quite a turmoil. Two hours ago, some of our men arrested two people who were fighting in a tavern.”

“So what? What's so special about that? When people fight in the Snuggly Duckling Pub, it's not a surprise, it's perfectly normal.” He shook his head reprovingly. “Ernst should know well enough by now that such cases are all too common in this establishment,” the veteran adjutant added coldly.

“You're certainly right, sir, except that this incident didn't happen there, but in the middle of our city centre. The main problem with this matter is that one of these two men appears to be a former refugee of our kingdom. Captain Ernst has therefore assigned two guards to search the archives for wanted letters from the last 20 years, and indeed he can be found in the files; such a person was probably involved in a deadly duel back then. But as if that wasn't enough, the accused claims to be an ambassador from Arendelle - he even wants an audience with Queen Rapunzel!”

The old man turned pale. “Where are Captain Ernst and this supposed Arendellean diplomat now? Take me to them immediately.”

“In the interrogation room, please follow me.”

~~~

Fabian received a slap in the face from the young captain because he could only answer the same thing over and over again.

But before the captain could continue, another commanding voice sounded behind him, “That's enough, you hothead!”

He was undoubtedly referring to the young captain and pushed him aside.

Fabian couldn't believe who he suddenly had before him, but didn't let on.

“I know this man and would put my hand in the fire for him at any time. If there's anything he's guilty of, I'll find out personally. The accusation on the wanted poster is long gone, because the perpetrator was caught years ago and died in the process. Have you forgotten, Captain, or didn't you check the records personally? Furthermore, a foreign ambassador is protected by royal decree, he can't be arrested nor be processed by any means. Now, by my position at the Royal Council, I demand you to set free this man at once!” Then he looked disparagingly at the other prisoner. “You can lock this one up for interrogation later. One more thing, Ernst, you and I will have a serious conversation about this incident and the lack of your performance in this situation.”

The men of the guard saluted him and followed his instructions without a word, only the young captain hung his head in disappointment, nodded and pushed the prisoner very roughly in front of him.

Fabian and he looked after them and then Fabian's shackles were released with the words, “What are you doing here after all this time in Corona, fencing boy?”

Fabian raised his eyebrows because he hadn't heard that nickname for a long time.

“I'm on a very important mission on the direct orders of the Queen of Arendelle, horse tamer,” he replied with a grin, using an equally elegant nickname and pulling a sealed letter out of his boot, which he waved in front of his old childhood friend's face.

“So that's where you've been all these years, I see. I wouldn't have thought of that, I thought you were dead instead. Apparently you made yourself there though, if you have contact with the queen there.”

Fabian nodded, stood up and gave his old friend a pat on the shoulder, “I wouldn't have believed I'd ever come here again either.” Fabian told him what the job was about and how it came about. “But tell me, how is it that you can deal with the captain of the guard like that?”

“Oh, that's a long story. Just this much, I held that position myself for years until it became too strenuous for me at my age. Now I've been promoted to royal adjutant, I'm subject to the direct orders of Their Majesties and my word is just as good on their behalf as if they were giving the orders themselves. But wash your face first. You can't go under the eyes of the Queen like this. Follow me.”

They continued talking in the castle staff washroom while Fabian wiped the blood from his face.

“Didn't you once have a wild horse called Maximus? What happened to him?”

“Unfortunately, my faithful friend is no longer alive, but he has a very lively colt and has passed on his best qualities to him. He's still too young for the hard training, but I love this horse. I call him Magnus now.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know that.”

“How could you, you've been away for how long now, fencing boy? Thirty years or more?”

Fabian nodded.

“We should keep in touch in the future. What's it like in Arendelle? I heard from rumors. It's supposed to be very nice there in summer. Maybe I'll come and visit you with my daughter one day,” he said as they left the room.

“You have a daughter?” Fabian blurted out, visibly surprised.

“Adopted daughter, and now grown up, to be precise. Her name is Cassandra.”

“I can see that a lot has happened in my absence. You need to tell me everything in peace and quiet, and yes, I would really love a visit from both of you. Arendelle is indeed very beautiful, especially the high mountains there. But the old and beautiful memories of Corona have almost overwhelmed me today. I miss my home so much, to be honest.”

“Maybe we can go to the castle gardens later or somewhere else for a beer or two. Then we can catch up on some news, can't we?”

“I'd love to, my friend. I have something very important to tell you about the other prisoner in particular. But before that, I would like an audience with the queen, if possible. I'm a bit nervous about my history, though.”

“You don't need to worry about that any more. Not even about the Brotherhood, who withdrew their accusation after a witness who knew your father well and knew you were his son turned up. He witnessed the fight and exonerated you by credibly confirming that you acted in pure self-defence. The death of one of the attackers caused by you was in the heat of the moment and was therefore not a deliberate murder, he said. It's just a pity that you fled afterwards to an unknown destination and we couldn't tell you about it now that I know.”

Fabian sighed audibly and his relief was clear to see. The former captain patted him on the shoulder encouragingly. “Follow me to the throne room, I'll announce you with Queen Rapunzel and you can now meet her without any worries.”

He was back a short time later. “She's expecting you now, Fabian.” This was the first time he had addressed him by his real name, but he was deep in thought and didn't even notice.

Instead, he asked, “What's she like? Down in the city, I saw a mural of her when she was young, with her parents and—”

“—her husband and saviour, Eugene Fitzherbert,” his friend added with a smile. Well, she had an eventful past and has matured a lot since she reappeared in Corona as the daughter of the old regents, which was on the morning of the annual Lantern Night. She also had quite a turbulent time afterwards as a newly minted princess, but now she has two children, a son and a daughter, who have even been to Arendellle for the young queen's coronation.” He interrupted briefly, “Well, you'll meet her yourself in a moment and I'll see you afterwards. Good luck with your mission.”

Fabian entered the enormous hall and walked slowly and with dignified steps towards one of the two thrones, the other was empty. In the background, he could see several men of the bodyguard in splendid uniforms. He bowed deeply to the queen and inclined his head before speaking, “Your Majesty, as your adjutant has no doubt already explained, I am Master Fabian from Arendelle on behalf of Queen Anna.”

“Welcome to Corona, Master Fabian. Rise to your feet. How can I help you?”

~~~

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Far north of Arendelle, in the Northuldra region…

A small sailing ship with a small crew and Yelana on board dropped anchor off the southern sandy beach. Also on board were the Arendelle's master builders, who had the royal commission to inspect the Norting building and meet with the descendants of the builders to rebuild it in Arendelle.

A small dinghy ferried the group of three across and Yelana led them past the four monoliths, illuminated by the afternoon sun, and into the camp. Neither of the two men, who were loaded down with measuring equipment, had ever been to this area before, but of course they knew all the stories about it. They stopped briefly at the tall stones with the symbols of the four elements and looked up in awe. The uncovered fifth monolith, whose actual mass was deep underground and only showed its smooth upper side, also attracted their attention. In the meantime, a wooden fence had been erected around it so that nobody, especially children, would accidentally fall into the pit and nobody would think of entering it.

There was something striking about the fifth monolith that the two men didn't quite understand: in contrast to the snow-covered surroundings, its surface was clear and dry. It seemed to radiate warmth that immediately melted away the fresh snow. Yelana explained its meaning, making the connection to the nature spirits clear and thus also to Elsa, the fifth spirit.

“We've heard a lot about it, including the four nature spirits. Is there any chance that we will see them? We've already seen the water horse Nokk when Arendelle was rescued, but not the fire and wind spirits, let alone one of the earth giants,” asked one of them on the way to the camp, looking around with interest.

“There's no guarantee of that,” she replied, “certainly not for the earth giants, but maybe Bruni, the fire spirit, who often helps us with the firelight in winter, will turn up.”

“What do they actually look like, these earth giants, how big are they?” asked the other.

Yelana had to laugh, “Terrifyingly big and so heavy that you can hear their footsteps and feel them in the ground before you even see them.”

A little later, they reached the first huts. Yelana was greeted and surrounded, beaming with joy. She explained the purpose of their being here, introduced them to the master builders of Arendelle and asked that the two old Northuldra master builders come to the norting house later for a chat.

“Yelana, will you stay with us? Since you and Honeymaren left, our people have been without leadership,” said one of the Northuldra and others echoed his sentiment.

Yelana pondered, for this was indeed a valid question.

“Let me think about it in peace. I'll let you know later at dinner.” Then she continued on her way to the secluded meeting place.

The two master builders were very impressed by the construction and the almost magical sight. They talked and gesticulated, then one of them took out his sketchbook and began to draw, while the other made comments and pointed out certain details. Yelana found herself somewhat superfluous, they were already so engrossed in their work, but as soon as her own masters arrived she would leave and go back to camp.

She pondered the question from earlier. Actually, there was nothing wrong with her staying here for a few months. She would help with the planning of the new building in an advisory capacity, but construction couldn't begin until spring anyway, if not later. The new royal council also had to be formed first, so she had no official duties in Arendelle at the moment. Besides, winter had only just begun and would last for several months. The two Arendellians could sail back on their own and she didn't need many personal items that weren't already in her travelling bag. She got everything she needed from her people.

She was leading the master builders inside the building when the two elderly Northuldra men appeared. She introduced them all and then said goodbye, telling them that dinner would be served soon and that she would organise a hut for them to sleep in in the meantime. Everything was now underway and her plan for Arendelle seemed to be taking shape. Yelana was satisfied.

In the camp, she called some people to her and announced that she had decided to stay here for a few months. Everything else would follow. She also learnt on this occasion that the reindeer had recently moved to lichen meadows. Yelana suggested that perhaps they should also explore the eastern region for new grazing grounds, after all, they were no longer trapped under a magical bell of fog.

Everyone was happy to hear the good news and agreed to her suggestion. Finally, Yelana took possession of her old kota again and threw her personal belongings inside before sitting down by one of the cooking fires and relaxed.

~~~

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Anna became increasingly anxious and could hardly concentrate on her daily duties after she and her sister returned from Vesterland. There was still no news from the dispatch rider who had been tasked with finding out Kristoff's whereabouts. Kristoff had never behaved like this before and that could only mean one thing - that something must have happened to him.

Elsa couldn't comfort her any more than Olaf could, and even Olina's chocolate couldn't cheer Anna up. Hadn't someone once claimed that chocolate would make you happy? Anna was far from it and paced up and down her study, restless and brooding.

She reviewed the last three days. First, as Mari had promised, four supply wagons arrived with provisions for humans and animals. After everything had been distributed, the sisters sat together in the evening and read Lord Peterssen's diary. It was a fascinating read, but they left most of it aside and focussed mainly on preparing for the conversation with King Jonas. They saved the rest of the diary for later, as time was pressing.

Peterssen's handwriting was pleasant, accurate and detailed, which said a lot about his character. His records went back to King Runeard's time, including mention of Vesterland and his plans to involve that kingdom in the financing of his dam project. But the Southern Isles and the royal house of Westergaard were also mentioned. There he wrote about facts and rumours of the time, as well as the king's marriage plans for his sons. Hans had not yet been born at the time, but some of his older brothers were already married or engaged to princesses from other kingdoms.

Peterssen drew conclusions about the kingdom's expansion plans in preparation for possible trade relations and to inform his king in good time of possible dangers and political entanglements. Anna and Elsa also learnt about Rudi Westergaard and consulted another book from the library, which contained information on other kingdoms. They looked at each other in amazement. Apparently this Rudi was the only one besides Hans who had not yet married. He was also not considered to be particularly intelligent and King Jonas certainly didn't want someone like that on his daughter's side.

The next day, they travelled with Mari to Vesterland. The talks with her father went quite well with the help of this information and the descriptions of their personal experiences with the Westergaard royal house, and King Jonas promised to give them serious thought. He had also promised to come to Arendelle's winter ball with Mari. All in all, the sisters were quite pleased with themselves and Mari thanked them warmly with a big hug.

That had been yesterday and now Anna had time to think about other things again and couldn't help but be very worried about her Kristoff.

There was a knock and she rushed to the door to open it. Surprisingly, Kai was standing in front of her and she could only stare at him for seconds in surprise. He looked rested and smiled at her, completely relaxed. Kai must have only returned from Snoob in the last few minutes, Anna surmised. Then she simply took him into her arms in an unkempt manner, casting a worried glance left and right into the corridor. But there was no sign of Kristoff.

Kai stiffened at this extremely unusual greeting from his queen and cleared his throat.

“Your Majesty, … er … is something wrong?”

Anna let go of him and shook her head. Then she invited him in and closed the door behind him.

Once they were both seated, she said, “I'm so glad you're back, Kai. To be honest, I've missed you. But please don't think wrongly about it now, because you really deserved your holiday with your family. But tell me, do you know where Kristoff is? He didn't come with you, did he? Did something happen to him in Snoob?” Anna looked at him worriedly.

Kai shook his head in amazement. “Isn't he here already? I thought that after he travelled on to the royal naval base on the advice of the Baron of Snoob, he should have been back by now. A messenger from Arendelle was in Snoob yesterday morning and also enquired after him. He followed his travel route.”

Anna replied in the negative and shared her concerns with Kai.

“It will be all right, Your Maj … er, Anna. What could happen to him there, or on the way there. He was probably just delayed and is already travelling back with the messenger. Do not worry.”

Anna nodded, “I'm sure you're right, but still, it's so unlike him to keep me in the dark all this time.” She paused for a moment and realised that it was actually a bit rude to Kai to just ask him about Kristoff. “What do you have to tell? I'm curious, how are Karl and his wife — what's her name?”

“Hanna,” he replied, “they're both doing really well.”

“Oh yes … her name almost sounds like mine, how could I have forgotten that,” she said with a soft giggle, “and what else have you been up to?”

Kai talked about long conversations, the pleasant atmosphere in Snoob, even while Kristoff was still there, before he left after the talks with the Baron, long walks and the refreshing of old memories in his homeland. In the end, he told Anna about the outcome of the talks with the baron about the candidates for the new royal council.

“That sounds very promising, Kai. Thank you for your efforts and I'm also pleased that you had such a pleasant time with the family. You look refreshed.”

“Thank you, Anna, it was—,” he began, as someone knocked energetically.

“Come in,” Anna said and stood up expectantly.

It was the messenger, who bowed low as he entered, but left the door open. Anna began to hope and expected to see Kristoff at any moment, but then why had the messenger knocked and not him and left the door open? Except … Anna turned pale.

“Your Majesty, I have just returned and can bring you the following report. Your fiancé, Kristoff Bjorgmann, arrived safely at the naval base, but he left the peninsula on a ship. After that, his trail was lost and I could not be informed of his destination due to a lack of written instructions from you. Unfortunately, despite my assurances, I was refused this information. I'm sorry.”

Anna could say no more than, “I see…”

Then he bowed again and left the study. This time, however, he closed the door behind him.

“What the …,” she began, but then changed her mind because of Kai's presence, who had also got up and was now looking at her very sadly.

“Would you please leave me alone, Kai? I need to think. Oh, and please send Elsa to me when you see her, but there's no hurry.”

“Very well,” he said and left her study with an understanding nod.

~~~

Three days later …

The first ship to moor in Arendelle's harbour was the ARN Voyager. Elsa and Anna made their way to the harbour to meet Master Fabian in person. Both were quite curious to see if he had been successful and what else he had to report about Corona. After all, it had been a while since they had been in contact with this kingdom.

Fabian's news was extremely positive and Voyager's cargo hold was filled to the brim. Reason to celebrate. They invited him to the castle for dinner and a cosy evening in the fireside lounge. He obviously had a lot to tell them and they were both eager to learn more.

“You look different somehow, Fabian,” Anna realised. “I can't put my finger on it, but the way you talked about your old home, the almost rapturous descriptions—,” she left the sentence open.

Fabian exchanged glances with both sisters, who were sitting cosily on the sofa in front of the fire with a cup of hot chocolate. He had made himself comfortable on an upholstered chair near the fire so that he could look them both in the eye as he spoke.

“Well, it's true, the visit to Corona has changed me in some ways after such a long absence and … well …,” he paused a little before continuing, “I miss my old home very much and since an old matter was finally resolved there, I'm seriously considering whether I should return.”

The sisters were silent for a few moments and just looked at him.

“We would miss you dearly, Fabian,” Elsa finally said, “but I can understand your feelings.”

Anna nodded, “That's true. But tell me, what old thing were you talking about? I mean … I don't want to be too nosy and you don't need to tell us about it … um.”

Elsa giggled, “You bet you're nosy, Anna!”

“Sorry,” Anna grinned back.

Fabian waved her off, “No problem. I'm so relieved about it myself and to be honest, it was me who was mistaken.”

Then he began to tell his long story and the sisters, who hadn't known nothing about it before, hung on his every word. It ended up being a long and satisfying evening full of surprises for everyone.

~~~

The following morning, another ship arrived in the harbour. An elegant schooner brig headed for the berth right next to the Voyager, which would be completely unloaded today. Nobody knew this ship and it looked as if it had just come from the shipyard, with brightly shining sails, a long, waving banner with the crocus symbol on it and a hull that had certainly not often seen the seas. Curious onlookers formed on the quay wall, some pointing their fingers as they chatted with their companions and some even waved to the deck crew. Eyes were squinted to recognise the ship's name. ARN Draba was an unusual name for many and undoubtedly the newest ship in the Arendelles Royal Fleet.

Commands rang out on deck and the sailors hurried to carry out the orders. Slowly the Draba glided closer and when she was moored, a blond mop of hair appeared at the railing with the antlers of a reindeer beside him. Next, a wagon was hoisted over it and the gangway lowered.

Only minutes later, Anna had also been informed of the arrival by Kai in her study. She was almost on her way to the dining room to have breakfast with Elsa, but stopped in the middle of the room. While Kai left again, she was confusingly torn between two completely contradictory feelings. On the one hand it was a great relief that Kristoff was still alive and would probably be knocking on the door any minute now, and on the other, anger that he had let her down so badly and caused her so much worry without a single bit of news.

She clenched her fists and slowly the second feeling took over. Anger was building up inside her. Should Kristoff come to her himself, she would not run into him this time. Anna was eager to hear his excuses and at the same time extremely curious as to where he had actually been all this time. Had he simply come on board for the ship's maiden voyage? Had he not given a single moment's thought to the consequences of his actions?

It was another half an hour before there was finally a knock. Anna, who was now sitting back in her armchair with an annoyed expression, recognised him by the way he knocked and instead of simply saying 'Come in' she walked slowly to the door and finally yanked it wide open. It was indeed Kristoff and his broad grin vanished instantly when he saw Anna's annoyed face. He carefully entered without taking his eyes off her.

Anna slammed the door behind him so loudly that he was startled and visibly flinched. Anna slowly stepped towards him, pleased with his reaction and the look on his face, until he had to back away a little and slumped into the armchair in front of the table.

~~~

youtube

Nobody slammed any doors in Arendelle Castle, especially not at this time of day! Elsa flinched just as she was about to shove a spoonful of boiled egg into her mouth and the yolk dripped down onto the table.

The sound seemed to have come from above. Elsa stood up to clearly reprimand the person responsible, left the dining room and walked along the corridor towards the stairs, where she could see a few running feet scurrying up.

What was going on today, she asked herself with furrowed eyebrows and followed those feet upstairs. Once there, she couldn't believe her eyes because she saw several girls from the castle staff listening at the door and whispering to each other. But it wasn't just any door, it was the door to the royal study!

Elsa quietly stood behind the group, crossed her arms in front of her and then asked loudly, “What's going on here?”

Everyone in front of her flinched violently and turned to look at her with wide eyes.

“You're listening at the Queen's door? Are you completely nuts? Where are your manners! Troll yourselves and get to work, but fast! … shoo, shoo …” Elsa made a gesture with both hands as if she wanted to chase a pigeon away from the windowsill. “And not a word to anyone, understand?” she called after them.

The girls fled with bright red faces and Elsa had to shake her head in disbelief. She was already putting one hand on the door handle when an angry tirade rang out from behind it — from Anna! Elsa immediately hesitated and couldn't help but listen at the door herself.

She couldn't hear much through the thick door, only that Kristoff was in the room and had to listen to a first-class lecture. Were they having their very first marital quarrel? Not that Elsa had ever witnessed one herself, but she had heard about it. She didn't want to be in Kristoff's shoes right now. But she had never experienced Anna like she was now. She screamed at him and was beside herself with rage, that much was clear.

Should she just burst in and try to save what could still be saved, or should she let things take their course? It was a difficult decision and she first had to think about what would happen. But no, as queen, Anna was not allowed to overreact like that and she could only feel sorry for Kristoff.

Elsa knocked loudly three times and it became quiet inside. Only then did she open the door and quietly pushed it shut again behind her. Her eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them. Anna was standing in the middle of the room with a bright red face, her expression furious. Kristoff, on the other hand, sat facing Anna in the armchair in front of the table and hung his head. Elsa crossed her arms.

“I don't want to disturb your full-blown marital quarrel, but never before has anyone in the castle slammed a door so hard that you can hear it all the way down to the lowest floor. I've just had to shoo five of the new maids away from your study because they were eavesdropping, Anna. Eavesdropping! Honestly, what's got into you?”

Her sister rolled her eyes and pointed at Kristoff with an outstretched arm without looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Elsa instead. “Because of him!”

“Anna, you can't be in your right mind to behave so childishly. Have you forgotten that you are the Queen of Arendelle?” Elsa had become a little louder, but didn't want to start an argument with her sister. She was old enough to realise her own mistakes. “Well … I realise what this is about, but you can't treat your husband like this just because he didn't send you a message and came back later than expected, can you?”

“Well, then let him tell you where he was.”

“Kristoff?” Elsa looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He sighed, “In Weselton, with the Duke's nephew.”

Elsa's jaw dropped and Anna just said tersely, “See?”

“Uhh … I hope you haven't arranged any new trade treaty with the Duke, Kristoff, have you?”

“Not that, but … well, let's put it this way … I promised to put in a good word for them for helping me, er, Arendelle.”

“Wait a minute … I …,” Elsa was speechless. Then she grabbed a chair from the wall, placed it in front of Kristoff and sat down. “You should sit down as well, Anna. Let's talk about this bit by bit, calmly … all right?” She looked at her sister encouragingly and she finally complied with her request.

”All right, let's take it in turn and start from the beginning, Kristoff. Just tell us everything.” Elsa spoke in a reassuring tone and looked at Anna admonishingly.

While Anna sighed and nodded, Kristoff began to talk about his idea, his desire to help in the current kingdom emergency, his experiences at the naval base, the sea voyage and everything that happened there. He also said that it was ultimately not his fault that the return journey was delayed, but because of the captain's decision. Next he came to the experiences on Weselton and ended with the two people who were mainly responsible for the help and, above all, why they did it.

”So, … Leopold and Lutz, I remember them well,” said Elsa, “don't you too, Anna?” She nodded with a somewhat confused expression on her face. “You see, if you'd only let Kristoff explain, it wouldn't have come to the situation we had earlier. I guess we're even with those two now.”

“But still, Elsa, a little message to me and I wouldn't have been so worried.”

“Well, if you were so worried about Kristoff, then there must be love behind it, so please make up with each other, all right? But please promise me that you won't slam any more doors like that, and you, Kristoff, should perhaps think a little more about Anna on your next excursion.”

“As for that, I did think about her a lot and brought something special,” Kristoff replied and stood up.

He walked round the table towards Anna and reached into a small shoulder bag, which the sisters only just noticed.

“I'm really sorry, darling. It won't happen again, I promise. Look what I've carved for you on the Draba. It was only finished today.” Kneeling down, he handed Anna the love spoon. “Strictly speaking, we're already married, but I wanted to make up for this gift before the official wedding anyway. After all, I had plenty of time to do it on the ship.”

Instead of saying anything, Anna knelt down to him with a smile and simply hugged him tightly. Then she said, “Thank you, honey. It turned out really nice and this traditional gesture is really sweet of you. I forgive you.”

They both stood up and kissed.

“Oh, and I have a further little present for you that I saw in a shop in Weselton. It looked familiar to me somehow, but I don't know where it came from. But I thought it was cute and immediately thought of you.”

When Kristoff pulled out the little felt bird and held it out to Anna, she wasn't the only one with wide eyes.

“It looks almost exactly like—“

“Sir JørgenBjørgen!” Elsa added in surprise and immediately joined the two of them to compare the stuffed bird with hers. Kristoff looked back and forth between the two, somewhat perplexed.

“You already know the puffin and have even given it a pet name?”

“Elsa has one that she inherited from Papa. It's a long story,” explained Anna.

“It looks a bit different and without the same beady eye. That's nice. Now you've got one too, Anna. I wonder what name you'll give him.”

“Hmm…” She looked at Kristoff, pondering. “I think I already know … now that you've told us about the tour with the duke's nephew and that he supposedly has two talking magpies. I'll call him Sir Rupert, then I'll always know where he's from.”

Everyone laughed and Elsa said, “Good choice, sis.”

~~~

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Remark: I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @true--north @annaofthenorthernlights @dronning-formynder05

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 79 #bigfrozenfan #Youtube

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writtenonreceipts · 8 months

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Rowaelin Month Day One: Song Fic @rowaelinscourt

Back by no one’s demands but my own: a part two and conclusion to “Annie” the song fic I wrote for last year. This one does end happier, I pinky promise. Inspired by Mat Kearney’s song “New York to California.” If you’ve been around for a while, you know Mat is one of those artists that I adore and his music means so much to me. I also just really wanted to conclude “Annie” and NYtCA just hits different…anyways, I hope you enjoy? You technically don’t need to read Annie if you don’t want to.

Rowaelin Month 2023 Masterlist Main Masterlist Annie—Part One

Warnings: she’s a touch angsty, nothing worse than how I usually go. ~3k words

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New York to California

Before

She doesn’t know if it’s late or early when sleep takes her. For weeks now she’s been trapped behind a gray haze. It falls over her mind and tries to convince her that nothing really matters anymore. It’s far too easy to fall victim to that mindset, and usually she does better at chasing the demons away. Usually it’s easier.

So as she drifts off, she’s just glad for a taste of some relief from the day. It’s been hard lately, too hard. And she doesn’t know how she’ll break free from it.

Maybe, for that reason alone, it’s better that she falls asleep. It can be the reprieve from her foster father and the ways the world has a way of crashing down around her.

The problem is, she forgets how easily the dreams find her. They invade this quiet space she’s tried to carve out for herself so easily that sometimes she doubts her sanity. Because the dreams are full of shadows and screams, pain and panic. She wants to escape them. More than anything if she could fade away into the gray haze of dawn and linger there—she would.

She’s in the middle of one of those terrors when a gentle hand glides down her cheek and she can hear his voice calling to her.

Fireheart. Fireheart.

When her eyes open it’s to find him staring down at her, green eyes flickering with the light of the TV, his hoodie drenched with rain. She can see the worry reflecting in his eyes as he brings his hand back to her cheek. His thumb runs in soothing circles along her skin.

“I had one of those dreams again,” she whispers. She doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to cause him more pain. But it’s Rowan. And he’s always been a part of her. “I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright,” he says, easing onto the couch beside her. “Everything’s alright, I’m here.”

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, but she snuggles into his side nonetheless. He smells like pine and rain and earth and it’s the most comforting thing she can imagine. So she leans into him and wraps her arms tight around him so he won’t disappear on her again.

She knows they shouldn’t do this. Knows he shouldn’t even be here. If Arobynn finds out Rowan showed up at the house Aelin knows there will be hell to pay. The only thing that gives her hope is that her foster father is gone on a work trip. He won’t be back until Thursday. But Aelin lives in a constant state of fear as her mind lingers on the “what-ifs” of it all.

“It’s alright, baby,” Rowan says. He presses his lips into her forehead and pulls the fleece blanket over them. “I’m right here with you.”

She lets his words wash over her and soothe her own worries. He’s never steered her wrong before, never left her unless he had to. And even than he lingers still. Because that Rowan, her Rowan, can temper any storm raging in her mind.

As he holds her close, she can make out the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes. She knows he was singing at the bar again tonight, trying to earn some cash for the two of them to finally breakaway from this damned town.

“Don’t leave,” she says, slurred with sleep and exhaustion. His warmth is all she needs to drift back off to sleep, missing what he whispers to her next.

…

After

The coffee shop is the same as it always is: loud and hot.

No matter when Aelin comes, there is always line out the door and every table is occupied by no one that actually has to be there. She has decided it is a ruse designed by society in general to make coffee shops more appealing. Supposedly they can offer you a sense of peace and comfort and delude you into thinking that you’re right where you belong—mixed up in a mess of people just as desperate for connection as you.

So yes, the coffee shop is always full. Single patrons take up tables for just themselves and their selfies and little cookies that they won’t actually eat. And straw liners are somehow strewn about the floor even though straws have been banned in the city for almost a year now. And somehow the heater is always going even in the middle of summer but no one ever comments because it is a coffee shop so therefore everything is perfect.

But it’s not. Everything is so far from perfect that Aelin has more than once found herself stumbling through life. She’s lost in a world that has passed her by all because her foster father beat her down. All because she stayed behind and let the one good thing in her life leave.

She doesn’t blame him, of course. She can’t. He was always too good for this place anyways. He always had a way about him that said he wouldn’t step back from a fight.

It’s what she loves most about him.

Because of course she still loves him.

Rowan Whitethorn was, and still is, the best thing to ever happen to her. From the time they were kinds to the inevitable night that finally pulled them apart—Rowan had been all she ever needed.

He left the city the second he could after his music managed to get him free. He’d tried to take her with him, tried to say that he’d take care of her and that everything would be alright with just the two of them.

But Aelin knew then that it wasn’t that simple. It never would be.

Except now, Arobynn is dead. Dead and no longer tormenting her daily. Instead, he’s just another terror in her dreams.

They’ve gotten better though, the nightmares. They don’t come every night and even when they do, it’s easier to chase them away now. Because she’s free.

And sometimes, if she’s lucky, Rowan will be there. He’s always had a way of climbing into her dreams and staying right where he’s needed. Even though he’s not physically here he’s still the greatest source of comfort to her.

She tries to shake the thoughts of him away. They won’t do her any good. No matter how badly she wishes they could, that he was there with her. Instead, any and all thoughts of him haunt her and remind her of what could have been.

So she opens her laptop, navigating to the article she’s supposed to be editing.

Somewhere along the way, she managed to pave a small road for herself. She was even the lead editor on this new addition of Kingsflame, an up and coming magazine. It took her a while to find her way here, to find something she liked and was just for her. But she was good at writing, she was good at picking up on details, she was good and weaving a story together.

Just not her own.

Aelin works for a little, trying to give all her attention to the document. The intern that wrote it is promising and Aelin wants to make sure to nourish a love of writing for her. Aelin knows first hand what just a taste of approval can do for someone and she wants the girl to grow in her love of words. Writing is what saved Aelin herself after all.

Sitting back in her seat, Aelin sighs and sips at her coffee. It’s something dark and bitter—not at all what she usually likes. She prefers sweet and sugar and all the extra bits but the poor barista behind the counter looked one pumpkin spiced latte away from quitting so Aelin got a simple black coffee. She added extra packets of sugar herself.

It’s disgusting.

But she has to admit the caffeine is definitely going straight to her brain.

She takes another long sip when it happens. The song on the radio changes and she hears a voice that has only been a part of her dreams. It’s low with the barest hint of his accent. He’s accompanied by a piano which is different—he’s always preferred the guitar, saying that he’ll leave the piano to her.

Only…she never got the chance to play with him.

And now he’s singing a ballad of love and hope over the speakers of her coffee shop. And no one notices. And no one realizes what it means to hear him now.

He’d always promised he’d find his way back to her. She just thought it was going to be different.

…

Before

There’s a storm billowing through the trees and lashing the windows with rain. The gray sky is endless as it grows darker with each passing second. This isn’t any regular storm. It’s been raging on for over an hour now, bringing in a few rounds of thunder and lightning with it.

Aelin finds she doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

Because beside her on the couch is Rowan. He has an arm wrapped around her as he drifts in and out of sleep. It’s been a long day of sneaking about, hiding, and worrying. Now, they just have an hour. One hour of just the two of them before she has to go back home.

“I miss you,” Rowan says, quiet.

Aelin isn’t sure she’s heard him properly. Or maybe he’s talking in his sleep, he does that sometimes. She runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the silvery locks back from his forehead.

“What did you say?”

Rowan twists, his chin resting on her stomach. Green eyes stare up at her, dark with longing.

“I miss you,” he repeats, just as quiet.

“I’m right here,” she says. She doesn’t stop running her fingers through his hair, can’t stop more like it. It’s grown longer recently and she loves it.

He doesn’t say anything. All he does is watch her. A flash of lightning snaps from outside illuminates his face, turning the shadows beneath his eyes lighter for once. They’re just kids but it feels like they’ve fought wars already.

Tightening his hold on her, Rowan lets out a small sigh.

“I know,” he says, “but it never feels close enough, does it?”

“You’re just talking,” she says with a low chuckle. Sometimes, words take on more meaning. Sometimes, words mean more than they usually do. And sometimes words are promises that bind you to more than a moment.

He grunts. “No I’m not.”

Her heart thuds at his words, at the feel of him as he sits up slowly, still pressed close to her; only now they’re chest to chest. He’s so much bigger than Aelin that his frame practically engulfs her. His broad chest and thick arms are enough to keep her from fidgeting too much though. Because where else would she rather be?

“No matter what happen, I’ll be here, you know?” he says. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Arobynn situation and how Aelin can’t leave. No matter what hopes and dreams she might have and share with Rowan.

She’s trapped.

“Rowan,” Aelin begins, she can’t let him say things he doesn’t mean or make promises he can’t keep.

“I’ll never be far enough away that I can’t find you again,” he says. One finger curls beneath her chin, causing her to look up. “I’d crawl back to you if I had to.”

“I guess I could get used to you being on your knees for me,” she replies. She wants to ease the moment, to find some levity that doesn’t make her feel like her heart is about be cut open and left to bleed out.

Rowan leans forward until his nose touches hers, until they’re so close that it would be so easy, so easy, to kiss him. To taste him. To have a small part of him that she’s wanted for so long.

“Only for you, Fireheart.”

…

After

California bleeds neon lights and smoke on the horizon.

At first, Aelin can only stare at the skyline and bustling streets and the myriad of people passing by like they’ve got all the time in the world. At first, Aelin can only breathe in the smog that coats the air like a second skin and the underlying musk of sea water.

She flew into Los Angeles on nothing but a whim and her last paycheck. Elide told her not to go. Aedion insisted she at least wait for him to come with her. Lysandra gave her an extra hundred dollars for an emergency.

Now, she’s wandering the old boardwalks by the ocean, watching waves crash and crowds swarm various popular spots. She doesn’t know where she is exactly. All she knows is that she’s nowhere near Hollywood or all the fancy places that she’d always imagined California to have. But that’s alright. She’s always found her way in the unknown and unpredictable. Even if it has been hell.

It's getting late and all she has guiding her is an old news letter she found online. There’s supposed to be an old grunge bar around here along the downtown scene. A place that supports those small artists with dreams bigger than reality.

The late fall light fades into the horizon, bringing a chill to the air. Aelin hadn’t expected it—cool air and gentle breezes. But she doesn’t mind it. She’s full or energy and worry, which may as well be a good thing as the combination has kept her from spiraling out of control.

When she enters the bar she already things she’s in the wrong place. The low lights and heady scent of cigarettes is enough to tell her so. But she pays a cover fee for the musicians playing and works her way to the front.

A part of her mind screams that she should have gotten here sooner, that it’s nearing the final acts and she’s missed her opportunity. Another part of her is convinced that she shouldn’t even be here to begin with. Afterall, it’s been five years.

But Aelin knows she would wait for any length of time; she’d always find a way back to his side. She got out of her own nightmares even if it did take her years. Maybe she should have called. She even has his number and has listened to every voicemail he’s left on repeat as if its her own lullaby for the darkest nights.

It takes some effort, but Aelin makes it closer to the stage. She’s still two rows back, but it’s close enough, she thinks.

On stage a woman finishes a ballad with her guitar. The music’s simple and her scratchy voice doesn’t hold the song together—at least in Aelin’s opinion, but she’s so far detached from this world, maybe she doesn’t know anything.

As the woman exits, a young college kid steps up to the microphone. His hair falls in his face and he’s trying to layer flannel and an old-style t-shirt that doesn’t quite work for him.

“Next up we’ve got our regular,” the kid announces, already pulling away to make room for the final act. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

All around Aelin, the audience erupts into cheers. They’ve all come for him, she realizes. All eagerly awaiting the one person Aelin’s been waiting her entire life for. She wants to cheer, wants to clap, wants to do anything but stand there and stare. She can’t.

Because walking across the stage to the electric piano set up in the corner is Rowan. Rowan with his hair too long. Rowan with an unlit cigarette behind one ear. Rowan with his da’s guitar case by his side, even now. Rowan with tan skin and tattoos reflecting in the pale light of the bar. Her Rowan that she’s loved for longer than she can say.

He doesn’t look up as he adjusts the settings of the piano and strikes a few keys. He messes with the microphone next, making sure it’s lined up the way he likes it.

When he does look up, it’s as though he’s always expected to find her there. It doesn’t take long at all for their gazes to meet, for his green eyes to burn under the yellow bar lights. His lips part in silent surprise and Aelin feels her skin heat when he cocks his head to one side before finally, a small smile kicks up one corner of his mouth.

He leans in to the microphone—eyes never leaving hers.

“Fireheart,” he says. “I promised we’d find each other again.”

…

After

She’s lost again.

But not in the way she once was.

Because instead of being surrounded by her nightmares, she’s tangled up in strong arms that haven’t let her go in hours. She’s lost in him like never before.

She doesn’t mind of course. Because she’s lost in him this time. Skin to skin, soul to soul. And there’s no place she’d rather be.

Aelin sighs and burrows in closer to his side. He smells of pine and snow just like always. It’s better than her memories, being so close to him. Better than anything she could have hoped for. She never thought it would come to this.

For so long she’d wandered through her life trying like hell to find her ways. Too often it felt like she was drowning, scrambling for air, for salvation.

And then she’d met Rowan.

She doesn’t blame him for leaving. She told him as much when he tried to apologized. Silenced him with her kisses, in fact.

Somehow they made it back to his apartment—small and tucked above a Thai restaurant. It didn’t take them long to rediscover each other. For Rowan to find the new scars along her back, for Aelin to learn the paths of his new tattoos. It didn’t take long at all to fall together into bed and spend the night whispering promises into the neon lights that filtered through the bedroom drapes.

“Fireheart,” Rowan whispers, his soft voice enough to pull Aelin from her thoughts.

She looks up into his eyes, already smiling. “Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan runs a hand up her bare side, the calluses on his fingers catching her skin. It’s enough to cause her to shiver which lights a new fire in Rowan’s gaze.

Whatever he was going to say is lost as he leans in and kisses her. She reacts instantly, not that she can help it. Everything about Rowan draws her in. His mouth is insistent and teasing and his hands leave hot trails against her skin as he pulls her on top of him.

It’s only when they’re both gasping for air that they break apart. Rowan brushes Aelin’s hair from her face, his large hand running across her cheek.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Their next kiss is slow and languid and sends sparks shooting through Aelin’s entire body.

They don’t speak again until morning when dawn breaks and scatters sunshine across the bed. But when they wake it’s with the knowledge that never again are they going to come apart. They’ll be together across every mile, side-by-side.

end.

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taglist is a joke will reblog soon

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth23 #song fic #writtenwrites #fanfic #throne of glass #tog #mat kearney song

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ellewritesandrants · 2 years

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I know a few people have done the Billy has an allergy AU but here’s my take on it. Just a warning that I have no experience with peanut allergies, only seasonal based ones so I may not have the most accurate interpretation of it.

Billy Hargrove’s always been just lucky enough to count his blessings but never lucky enough to consider himself blessed. Case in point, his mom left him but he still had his dad. However, his dad was an abusive piece of shit who didn’t believe in anything science said which meant that every time he got sick after his mom left, the only thing he had to heal him was the power of prayer.

Neil was the kind of bastard who believed that him getting sick was a punishment for being bad so Billy didn’t get to take any rest days, didn’t get to take any medicine unless it was in secret and he didn’t even get to go to the doctor unless he absolutely had to and even then, it was a battle and half before, during and after.

Neil was also the kind of bastard to believe that allergies didn’t exist and that they could be trained away if Billy wasn’t such a pansy. From the moment his 1st grade teacher sent him home with a note about an allergic reaction he had to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich his mom had packed him, Billy had been doomed to a life of exposure therapy, with Neil going so far as to use it as his favorite form of punishment. It might have even worked had it been done right but the way Neil weaponized his allergy made it into a form of torture instead.

When Susan and Max came into his life, Neil was quick to say that peanut butter was one of Billy’s favorite spreads and that he loved peanuts. Every time Susan made something with peanut butter, Billy had to be polite and respectful. He had to eat his portion to respect the effort Susan had put in even if it made his eyes itch and his throat swell. Billy was just lucky that it wasn’t deadly or else he’d have long been gone.

Billy had gotten used to it, even daring to find some tricks that helped it be easier for him to deal with it but unlike the others, he never outgrew his allergy even with his somewhat constant exposure to peanuts. Over time, it never got any easier but life had to go on.

All in all, if asked, Billy would say he has a pretty good handle on it on a day to day basis. He managed to avoid them whenever possible outside of the house and he lives after every time Neil forces him to finish whatever peanut butter filled abomination Susan made for dessert under the guise of pleasing everyone since Max unironically loved anything peanut.

Things got a lot easier when he was able to move out and support himself because even if he was poor, at least he didn’t have to be in pain anymore. He even managed to cook all of his own meals now that he had control so he wouldn’t trigger his allergies. When he and Steve had moved in together, he’d made sure to take over cooking and Steve never noticed the lack of anything peanut related in their house since Billy also did the grocery shopping.

Billy had never felt the need to tell anyone else about his allergies because he was able to avoid it anyway plus Neil would tan his hide if Billy spread that he had an allergy like a wimp. Even after he moved out, he just graciously accepted whatever peanut filled thing was given to him, all too used to pretending he didn’t feel his throat swell and his heart start to pound.

It had been a good year and a half since he moved out and for the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had his allergies triggered. He was feeling good and happy and with his birthday coming up and with Neil long gone out of town, Billy was looking forward to it for once.

It all came crashing down as soon as he had his first bite of the cake. Steve and Joyce had gone all out, even deciding to bake the cake instead of buying it. Billy could taste the staggering amount of peanuts crammed into the cake and the sheer amount had his allergic reaction going on overdrive.

He didn’t have the time to control his choking or gasping for breath and be could only watch as the faces of joy and laughter turned into terror and panic. He could vaguely hear Joyce asking Will to get his Epipen but even that was fading in and out. His ears were buzzing and his head was spinning. He hadn’t had such a bad allergic reaction in years and of course, it would be to a homemade cake made by the people he loved who had no idea about his allergy.

Thankfully, he was just lucky enough to survive even with them bringing him to the hospital as soon as possible. The EpiPen Will had gotten had possibly saved him from going into anaphylactic shock and Billy had woken up to a completely filled hospital room full of worried and tired faces.

“Mom, look! Billy’s awake!” Will exclaimed.

Joyce startled awake, clutching his hand, tears building in her eyes.

“Thank God you’re alright, Billy.”

“How long was I out?”

A warm hand fell to his shoulder but it was a familiar warmth.

“It was just a day but you had us all worried, son.” Hopper said.

“Why?”

“Why? You almost died, Billy. If Will hadn’t gotten his EpiPen when he did, you might’ve been dead. Why did you tell us you had a peanut allergy, babe? Especially one this bad.”

“Neil believes that allergies are for pansies and that you can train them away with constant exposure so he told Susan and Max that I loved peanuts.”

“That fucking bastard!” Joyce snarled.

“What? How did you get through mom’s desserts then?” Max wondered out loud.

“Ice water, a prayer and a few tricks from some books I read. I haven’t triggered it in a year or so since I moved out so it must’ve been detrained or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“Well, we won’t know until I ask the doctor. When’d they say that I’d be free to go home?”

“The doctor said you could go today if they finish running the last few tests to make sure you’re fully recovered, but not without an EpiPen of your own.”

“It’s not like it was my choice, Joyce!”

“Still! That Neil Hargrove better stay away from me because the next time I see him, I’ll give him a good kick in the balls and see how he likes that.” Joyce declared.

“And I’ll pretend I heard nothing. Now, I don’t think this was the birthday you were hoping for but once you’re free, we can have a do-over. Does that sound good to you, Billy?” Hopper asked.

“Sure! I’d never say no to another party.”

“Yeah, but this time peanuts are strictly banned. Out of curiosity, is there anything else that you’re allergic to?”

“Well, I don’t really do all that well with dairy if you get my drift. Sometimes, gluten makes my stomach hurt so I tend to eat pretty healthy as a result.”

“We’ll take note of that for the party. Focus on your recovery for now, baby. Don’t think I can’t see you struggling to keep your eyes open. Go to sleep, Billy. We’ll all still be here when you wake up.”

“M’kay. Love you and everyone too. Thanks for being here.”

While Billy is asleep, every peanut product in the Byer-Hopper and Hargrove-Harrington household was summarily thrown out by the Party and Steve put Dustin to work researching gluten free and dairy free recipes for the party they’d be throwing. Everyone was once again made aware of everyone’s allergies just to make sure they didn’t accidentally trigger anyone else.

The party was a huge success and Billy found out what it was like to have a family that cared enough to take his allergies into consideration and to find people who wanted him to be happy and healthy even if it meant they’d have to do more work for it. For once, Billy felt loved and treasured and cared for by the people that surrounded him and he couldn’t be any happier.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #billy deserved better #billy hargrove au #billy hargrove deserved better #steve harrington #ellewritesandrants #billy x steve #billy hargrove redemption #stranger things rewrite #billy and joyce #joyce byers #billy and hopper #jim hopper #joyce x jim #tw allergic reaction #tw allergies #soft billy hargrove

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frogs-with-tea · 6 months

Note

What is the Sound Au about?

*cracks knuckles* I'm so glad you asked!!!! I've been waiting for an excuse to lore dump about my silly AU!!!

So the name of the AU comes from a kind of body of water. A sound is a body of water that goes inland but leads out into the greater ocean. One Piece Sound, OR, is the name of the town where the AU takes place. It's a modern One Piece AU where the straw hats all live in a tourist coastal town on the Western Coast of the United States. Since it's a pirate manga I thought a coast setting would be the most fitting. I live on the East Coast and grew up going to coastal towns a lot, and a lot of this AU has been inspired by me missing the beach. I considered placing it on the east coast cus we are the better coast (that's just facts the water is freezing over there), but I thought the atmosphere of the West Coast would fit better. They have big ass rocky cliffs over there, as well as big evergreen trees. The West Coast also has a larger Asian diaspora because they share an ocean with Asia. And so it would be easier to keep the Japanese roots of one piece.

The name of the town came from the myth of gold rogers' treasure! If you've ever been to a tourist town before, a lot of them have some kind of gimmick to try to get tourists to come in and visit. (see: Point Pleasant West Virginia with Mothman) And a legendary pirate hiding their treasure all in one piece along the coastline sounds exactly the kind of story you'd find in an American tourist town.

So that's all the setting stuff, the real meat and potatoes of the AU is really just: what if One Piece was a slice-of-life manga instead of a pirate manga. It's also a way of projecting my 20s ennui onto the straw hats. They're all 20-somethings who still live where they grew up and feel like they're just going through the motions of life.

Nami tried to go to college but had to drop out for financial reasons, and now works at a bait shop. Usopp is that one friend who's always bouncing from one job to the next to try to find something that fits. Sanji could have gone to college, but much like manga Sanji, he's committed himself to spending his life working as a chef at the Baratie. Zoro is a kendo instructor and is trying to pursue Kendo professionally. He works at the dojo he grew up going to and his boss is his teacher, Shimotsuki.

Luffy doesn’t have a job. It just doesn’t make sense to me that he would. He’s not clocking in anywhere. He doesn’t have a W2. He’s that dude on the board walk selling tie-dye t shirts out of his van. Luffy fully believe’s the one piece is real, and that he’ll find it and become king of the pirates. I think luffy could totally still be a menace to society in a modern AU. So he lives in his van with chopper (who is his dog.)

And this AU, isn’t just a modern AU. This also an a/b/o AU, and most of the plot stuff I want to do revolves around that.

Cus another reason I made this AU is that I really wanted to write an mpreg story with Zoro, but it didn’t make much sense to me to set it in canon. Like as an mpreg enjoyer I need to know when to take the L and realize when a character wouldn’t want to be pregnant. I feel like canon Zoro fits that description. He wants to become the world’s greats swordsman, he wouldn’t want to put his life oh hold for a child, not until he achieves his dream. And it feels wrong to do that to him. Also one piece is an adventure manga, and I want it to stay that way!!! The setting and the story doesn’t fit the kind of domestic soap opera story I want to make so hence the new setting.

Zoro is such an interesting character, and so much of his character is based around his strength and his masculinity. So him having to deal with a situation that puts him out of his depth, makes him vulnerable in a new way, and makes the people around him call into question his strength; is really the thing I want to dig into.

So the rough plot of the story is that Zoro and Sanji have been hooking up with each other in a “friends (enemies) with benefits” type situation. And due an unfortunate slip in their use of birth control (zoro forgot to take his pill the day he had sex with sanji without a condom) Zoro gets pregnant. The plot primarily is about Zoro and Sanji figuring out this new normal between them as they prepare to become parents together, and an agonizing slow burn as they go closer of the months. ZoSan is the focus, but I plan on the other straw hats to have plot focus as well. Idk what it’ll be yet, but know that I am thinking about the other straw hats and arcs for them.

Even with Zoro and Sanji I’m super interested on exploring them as individual characters, and how this will put pressure on their insecurities, just as much as I’m interested in them as a ship.

I’m also thinking about the social nature of the town as well. Because as a small tourist town, everyone knows everybody and everyone has an opinion. I’m going to try to fill out the town with with all one piece characters cus the cast is so huge, and create plot points based off of intertown dynamics. The straw hats already have a reputation in town because they hang out with Luffy and are seen as those no good kids who aren’t doing anything meaningful with their lives. That attitude gets worse when word travels that the Zoro Roronoa, state kendo champion, has found himself knocked up by a line cook.

The biggest like element I want to focus on is the way the straw hats are ride or die for each other. And how they’ll support each other no matter what. Like when there are people who expect you to be a certain way, or judge you for decisions, they’ll be there for one another. They’re each other’s safety net in a world that expects us to leave our neighbors out to dry.

This post was incredibly long, but yea!! That’s my One Piece Sound AU!!! Basically convoluted way for me to knock zoro up, have it make sense, and project my 20s struggle and trans feelings onto him. Thanks again for giving me an excuse to talk about it!! :D

The end goal is for this to one day be a web comic, which would most likely be posted onto AO3. But idk if I’m there yet with my art to make that kind of commitment, so for right now I just want to make some fan art for it, and some non plot comics (as well as some long form concept comics :3)

#non art #ask box #one piece #one piece sound au #zosan #a/b/o #mpreg #omegaverse #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d. luffy #nami one piece #usopp one piece #long post

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bekkathyst · 1 year

Text

A question with backstory

Backstory: my village doesn’t have a real post office anymore, so all there is now is a small business that’s also a “post partner” that represents the post office and offers their services. It’s conveniently right across the street from my apartment, whereas the next real post office is about a 25 minute drive away.

Because of all the issues I had trying (and ultimately failing) to set up a business account with the post office, I still can’t pre-print shipping labels at home, which means this tiny little post partner shop has to print labels for every single one of my packages. There’s only 1 person working there at a time so as you can imagine when I have larger batches to drop off, it takes them a while.

Because this is a small town and they know I live right across the street, they very graciously let me drop my packages off when they first open and let me go home and just text me when they’re all done to pay at the end. Whereas a bigger post office would have me stand there and wait for the few hours it takes for them to print all the labels. I’m so grateful for that, it has made all of this so much easier. I think it also helps them distribute the load - they can work on my packages more slowly and help other customers in between. But it’s been so great and I’m really glad they do it this way.

Question: Tomorrow I have another batch of orders to drop off in the morning, and I decided I want to give both the ladies who work there a Christmas gift. I’m just not sure what to give them. I trying to decide between making them wire wraps or just gifting them each a nice crystal.

On one hand I know handmade gifts are generally pretty loved by people here, but wire wraps are a particular style that isn’t for everyone and they may not like it. And on the other hand if I just give them rocks I’m afraid they may think it’s weird and not know what to do with them lol 🫣 I also thought I’d maybe buy some tea and chocolates to throw in there too.

I’m probably overthinking this but I want to make sure I end up giving something they like and I have very little to go on 😅

#original

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

An Unambiguous Love [1/10]: First Day Out Front

:: 1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 ::

alternate AO3 link

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Your favourite customers really make it easier returning to the town you never went to school in. If only your friends at work would stop trying to play matchmaker between you.

Chapter 1 word count: 2428

A/N: Ahh, here it is! The thing I keep saying has been kicking my ass lately!! I really hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I've ultimately enjoyed writing it. Also big big love to @denim-mixtapes for beta-ing/de-British-ing the things I write.

“Heads up!” You look up at the source of the command you just heard to witness a paper ball leave your colleague Jesse’s hand, swing through the air as though in slow motion, and collide directly with your forehead. You give him a stern look, and he smirks while shaking with laughter. “I mean, I did warn you.”

You flip him off, “Way to kick off my first day on the shop floor.”

“I am your mentor out here, I need to prepare you for anything. Be grateful it wasn’t a figurine, that would have hurt,” Jesse points out. “Nah, it’s easy enough out here. You’ll even be able to run shifts all by yourself in no time.”

You hold up your index finger this time, “Correction, you could in no time. You know how many dirty looks I get just from saying the word comic in front of most men?”

He pulls a face. “I’m sure most of our customers are just like me, and I’m one of those female-ists! I let you join my D&D campaign, remember? That was great!”

You think back to the group containing mostly your fellow employees, and a couple of other guys around your age from Jesse’s past, who may not have directly said anything against you, but who certainly treated his poorly-written female NPCs far worse than his mediocrely-written male ones, constantly trying to pursue them until Jesse would throw a tantrum and refuse to “flirt'' with his players. Instead of arguing, you simply opt to look down so he doesn’t see the resigned expression that so badly insists on creeping along your face.

As you’re looking down, you notice the crumpled up paper isn’t just plain, it’s a half-written Dungeons and Dragons character sheet. Curious as to why it was abandoned, you unfurl it and read the first box.

Name: Steve Harr Bashemall

You chuckle at a half-orc fighter being essentially called "bash them all". You never really made any lasting friends before you moved out of Hawkins in your elementary years, and you and your family moved back just after you graduated high school, but this town's small enough that you know who Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High is. He works at the Family Video right opposite your store, with the clumsy girl who you once literally bumped into on one of your trash runs after you had to deal with a delivery of misprints. She had at least helped you run around the blustery parking lot collecting them all back up again, and you'd sworn you could never show your face in front of him again after seeing the silhouette of his broad shoulders and swooping hair in the store window, clearly watching you run around like a headless chicken.

Jesse sees you reading the sheet and chuckles. "Ah, is that Harrington's garbage? Yeah, I was here when he came in with that, uh… Trailer boy. Munson."

"You say that like I'm just supposed to know them," you retort.

Jesse shrugs, "Anyway, Munson got his wires crossed, thought it was last week that we were launching D&D supplies. Brought in his own blank character sheet to, what was it he said? 'Keep Stevie busy', or something." You allow yourself a small laugh at the nickname. "But obviously that was pretty short-lived. He kept trying to name his character real boring names like Brian until -" Jesse makes some kind of unintelligible groan. "Until I said it might suit him to play an unassuming human rogue with a deadly secret, but he called that “pretentious” until he started yelling "Bash 'em! I wanna bash 'em all! That's my character!" so Munson told him to write it down. I don't think they got too much farther with it. I only found it 'cause I realised just now I hadn't thrown it away, it was just trash."

You fold it away and tuck it into a drawer in your desk. There's a very brief character description, if it gets quiet you could always use some extra drawing practice.

The morning goes by pretty smoothly, the register is easy enough to use, the clientele haven't been too harsh. Which means Jesse has “decided” to let you fly solo until someone else takes over. "I can’t stay anyway, I, uh… I’ve told Cam already that I’ve got a migraine coming on.” If he’s telling the truth, he’s weirdly unaffected for someone whose symptoms are so bad he apparently can’t work any longer. “It's not like you're on your own, Tiffany's just dealing with this week's delivery out back, you can call on her if you really need anything!" he calls over his shoulder as the door hits the bell that dangles just above it.

Sighing in resignation, you shout out, “Tiff?”

“One second, hun!” The other female player in Jesse’s D&D campaign calls out.

“Oh, it’s all good as long as you can hear me. Just thought I’d tell you Jesse’s gone for the day. Says it’s a migraine.”

You hear the clatter of something being dropped and soon after, Tiffany rushedly appears at the back room door. “What a jerk! You want me to put a word in with the big guy about him?”

You shake your head. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. Cameron’s in the office today, and I don’t want him to think I need my hand held all the time. Just wanted to check that you were within shouting distance if I needed you for something.”

Tiffany pads over and reaches around behind your back to give you a quick squeeze of encouragement. “I’ll always have your back here! Especially over my lame-ass brother,” she pulls a face and you laugh. Fresh into high school, Tiffany has all the nerdy know-how Jesse does, and thankfully a far more palatable personality. “And don’t be scared of Cameron. He’s cool when he wants to be.”

“Yeah, I know. I just spent… So damn long in that back room. I don’t want to cause trouble on my first day out.” You sigh.

“I’m gonna miss having my behind-the-scenes sister with me!” Tiff pouts.

You grin, “Just makes us the dream team now, right?”

“The face and the brains!” She mirrors your expression, pointing at you and then herself, and runs off before she can see your borderline offended look.

A little while after noon hits, after a dull enough morning that you’ve been spending your time absent-mindely drawing, the doorbell tolls. You look up to see the familiar silhouette of a stocky man with perfect hair, but this time you can see his warm eyes and chiselled jaw. He at first goes straight for the comic section, thumbing through different boxes with his tongue poking his cheek out and looking confused.

“Need some help?” You offer, and he gets snapped out of his trance to look at you for the first time. His expression when he locks eyes with you is so much softer than you were expecting from the charismatic reputation that has preceded him.

“Uh, yeah, actually, sorry. Friend of mine wanted me to pick him up a… number 200 Lantern? Said I should get here nice and early in case it sells out fast. Apparently it’s a big one?” he asks, blowing air through his lips in a rasp and holding his arm out in a half-shrug.

For a moment, you understand the power trip that knowing more than someone else can have, but you’re no Jesse. Instead, you nod understandingly. “Got it, Green Lantern #200. Yeah, it’s literally a big one. Poor Tiff’s been fighting with them all day back there,” you gesture with your head to the back room door. “They came in this morning, but they don’t hit the shelves until tomorrow. Same day the D&D stuff gets out, too. Sorry.”

He groans, “Stupid Dustin, getting the date wrong… Sorry for wasting your time,” he states as he wanders up to your counter. He notices that you’re drawing something and leans over to look. “I’m Steve, by the - oh,” he stops suddenly when he recognises the crumpled up paper you’ve been using for reference. “Is that -”

You don’t usually embarrass easily, but your cheeks do tint pink. “Uh, yeah, one of my colleagues used this sheet as a missile and I figured since I haven’t had much practice drawing orcs - or half-orcs, in this case - I could give it a go.”

“So this is what Bashemall looks like, huh?” he asks, swivelling himself around to angle his point of view to look at it from your perspective. “That’s amazing.”

“Well, ultimately only you know that. I’m just going by what little is written here, and some reference of my own knowledge of orcs’ anatomy. Um, you haven’t really said anything about hair, though, so I’m not sure what would look best on him…” you study your sketchbook page, tilting your head from side to side as you try to imagine different hairstyles on him.

“Well, I mean, I put enough effort into my own hair that I’d like to think it would look good no matter what kind of face I had, so… Maybe he could have hair like mine?”

You look back up at him, eyes narrowing as you study the way his hair looks for a moment. “Sure, I could do that,” you nod. “Mind if I use you as reference, or do you gotta head back?”

“Ah, Robin can cope without me for a few minutes,” he waves off before snorting a quick chuckle out of a half-smile. “She, uh, she’s the one who helped you whip the parking lot back into shape a couple weeks back.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Wow, so you are the one who just stood watching in the window! How heroic,” you smile sarcastically and he laughs harder. “Alright, well, I’ve been drawing this guy at a ¾ view so if you could just move your head…” you try and gesture with your hands how you want his head positioned, but he doesn’t seem to be getting it. Instead, you opt for using the end of your pencil to push his jaw up slightly, then across slightly until it’s angled just right.

“You need me to make a face for you?” Steve asks, immediately cycling through an array of facial expressions.

You giggle, “Not for the drawing, but for my own entertainment, sure!” He continues pulling faces until you’ve sketched a full head of hair. You hold your sketchbook up and he finally breaks pose to look at it in full.

His face is filled with admiration. “This is so good! Almost makes me want to pick it up. Almost,” he points at you, eyes wide. “But not totally. It’s still very much Munson’s and the kids’ thing,” he shakes his head. “I can’t wrap my head around it all.”

“Well, then, I’m super honoured that you entertained the idea of me drawing a D&D character that’ll never see the light of day,” you smile, before having an idea. Holding a single finger up, you ask, “Please hold just a second,” before slinking back to the back room.

You open the door to find Tiff backing away, far closer than she should have been if she were at her post. “Is that the Steve Harrington out there I hear?!”

“Yeah… Yeah,” you nod, half-distractedly. Despite the fact he’s only a door away, part of you just wants him back in your field of vision as soon as possible. Looking over at the manager’s office’s closed door, trying to stay out of its earshot, you ask in a hushed tone, “Uh, hey, I don’t suppose you could slide me a copy of Green Lantern a day early? I’ll make sure it all gets paid for, I jus-”

“Say no more,” Tiffany singsongs as she presses a copy into your chest. “Just remember to ask me to be your maid of honour.”

You roll your eyes at her as you head back out to the shop floor. You toss the issue onto the counter and gesture to it. “There you go. For being such a good model. Don’t go telling anybody you got it a day early, though.”

Steve gasps deeply, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna be Henderson’s favourite for this! Thanks, I seriously owe you!”

You narrow your eyes, “I literally just said this makes up for letting me draw your hair! You don’t owe me shit now.”

“Oh no, trust me, you have no idea what this is going to do to my reputation. I still owe you so hard,” Steve picks the issue up and tucks it beneath his jacket.

“Just… Maybe come back every once in a while? It’d be nice to have a friendly face around every now and again to chat to,” you suggest.

Steve salutes, “You got it…” He leans in to read your name badge and calls you by name. Huh, guess you forgot to introduce yourself. Maybe you should be doing that more.

He rushes out of the store, back to his own workplace, and you step back to rap your knuckles against the back room door. “You can come out now, Tiff,” you murmur just loud enough to be heard on the other side.

Sure enough, Tiffany opens the door just enough to poke her head through the gap. “Oh my god, he is so into you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Please, he’s just being friendly. There was nothing flirty about anything either of us said.”

“Exactly!” Tiffany hisses. “If I know anything about Steve Harrington, from what I’ve heard, he usually flirts so hard! You clearly make him nervous, he’s obviously intimidated by you. Trust me.”

“You want me to ‘trust’ what you’ve ‘heard’ about someone who graduated last year, before you were even at that school?” you ask in disbelief, shaking your head. “He just seemed like he was being nice. I dunno. It’d be cool to have a friend outside of here, too.”

“Well, I’m still gonna have hope,” Tiffany shrugs as she sneaks back to her work.

When your shift finally ends, as you get to your car you look up at Family Video one last time to see Steve at the window. He lifts his hand to just in front of his chest to give you a small wave goodbye with a soft smile to match. You wave back, feeling a sensation of warmth emanate all through your body.

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x you #steddie x you #steddie imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #fluff #aul #*myfics

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pochipop · 11 months

Text

＃IKEMEN PRINCE !! ♡ — THE WAY HE LIES (YVES X READER).

#. synopsis! — yves frequents your family owned bakery in the city, and he's such a pretty liar .

#. characters! — yves .

#. warnings! — very slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.6k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — is this really the content anyone wants from me? probably not! but hello ikeseries fandom, i've come to join the tumblr ranks !

There he sits again in one of the worn-out wooden chairs of your family’s bakery, —his hair glistening like little strings of golden sunlight in the dying evening rays. Many moons ago, you’d have been nervous to approach him, smoothing your apron down, dusting flour off yourself haphazardly before making your way over to take his order, minding your posture like a single slump in his presence would have set the world ablaze. These days, you know better. . . Yves may look much too sophisticated to let yourself be true around, but underneath that perfectly polished appearance, there’s a young man much like yourself.

A young man who is also painfully uncertain of it all, who yearns for a place to belong.

With two servings of strawberry mousse in either hand, you place one before him, letting the little ceramic dish clink against the table. His clear, powder blue eyes draw to your face, and he bites back a smile, forcing that same neutral arrogance to remain even as you take a seat across from him.

“Back again, I see,” you grin a bit, shoveling a spoonful of the creamy dessert into your mouth, letting it melt on your tongue.

He hums in acknowledgement, taking his own spoon between his fingers to gracefully scoop an appropriate sized bite from the top.

“I had some business to attend to in town,” he replies evenly, pausing to taste the mousse, and then to swallow it down. “I’m sure I missed dinner at the castle and was feeling pekish on the journey back.”

You know he’s lying, but you don’t ask why. You never ask why he’s often so dishonest; both with himself and others. . . It’s easier to assume that Yves has his reasons and to leave it at that.

“I trust everything went well enough then?” You inquire.

His eyebrow raises in confusion, and you’re quick to clarify: “With the business you mentioned having in town, that is.”

If you hadn’t been sure he was lying before, you certainly were after seeing his face drop for a moment as he realized he’d slipped up in his charade.

“Oh, —yes,” he answers, giving a quick, unconvincing nod. “All’s well, thank you. And I assume business today went smoothly as well?”

“As smoothly as it can go, I suppose,” you laugh, —and ah. . . There’s that funny feeling again, the one Yves has been having in his chest as of late.

The kind that mimics a dastardly mixture of palpitations and the fluttering of insect wings.

He’d really like to fix this. There’s gotta be a way to pass this over, let these feelings pass him by, —because this can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t ever work, and he knows it. You live in a world so completely different to his own; one that isn’t tainted by royal politics and all the gossip of bordering kingdoms that always lingers around the corners, threatening to swallow him whole. There’s no place for love when it comes to people like him. Not when any compassion you could ever show him would only prove to marr your reputation. It’s why he never picks the seat by the largest window anymore, why he only comes here when the shop is about to close, and why he’s never allowed himself to sit with you without telling a lie.

So yeah. . . Maybe it is for the best that you never ask why he isn’t as honest as he could be when it comes to you. Or to anyone else.

“You seem a little down today,” you comment. “Is everything really okay?”

It’s just the way his frown seems deeper, and the way his brows seem so set in their furrow. He never looks outwardly happy as far as you’ve ever see of him, but usually there’s little flecks of joy that swim through his eyes, whether it’s over the sweets, or the peacefulness of the establishment, or over the way you smile at him so reassuringly, as if flashing one at him for just a second should be enough to soothe his deepest hurts.

His expression drops for a moment, like he’s surprised you were paying enough attention to notice the smaller details of his sour mood. Yves does his best to wear his heart beneath his sleeve, keep it hidden away, but you. . . He fears you see him for exactly who he is, and the thought of it terrifies him. Nobody should have to see that.

“Everything’s fine,” he nods after a few moments of silence. “The mousse is quite good today. Did you make it yourself?”

You fear the compliment is little more than a distraction, a way to change the topic without having to dwell on the previous one. But that’s okay.

“Mhm,” you nod. “Just a few hours ago, actually. We’ve been tweaking the recipe a bit as of late, and I think this might be the best one so far.”

“I agree. The sweetness is balanced with the slightly tart flavor of the fresh strawberries on top, and the texture is so decadent and creamy,” he answers, words emphasized by the spoonful he ushers into his mouth much less elegantly than before.

Something about it makes you smile. Sure, he’s a liar, but his eyes are so honest, and you can always tell what he really wants to say when you read between the lines. You imagine it must be hard to be a prince in such a small kingdom. . . To have so many eyes on you at all times, to be judged both at your strongest and weakest points. The riches of it all must be nice, and that’s all well and good, —but there’s so obviously a price to pay for living under that kind of scrutiny. You can’t help but wonder if Yves ever stops to let it all wash over him, or if he goes about each day pretending to be alright for everyone else’s sake.

At the very least, you hope he feels comfortable being himself here, with you.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Silence falls between you for a bit. The sound of horse drawn carriages padding over the gravel outside and the soft clinks of your spoons against the little ceramic bowls echo in a playful chorus.

You’re happy he stopped by today.

“There’s some leftover honey cake, if you’d like to take it back with you,” you note. “I know you took a slice to go the first time you came in, and you mentioned your brother was a fan of the flavor.”

He blinks, lips parting slightly, as if he just can’t believe you cared enough to remember an interaction from so long ago. It makes him wonder what else you’d be able to recall about him, and he looks down at the strawberry mousse sitting on the table (though it’s mostly eaten by now.)

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he answers, voice softer than before.

Yves tacks on a quiet ‘thank you,’ to which you offer him another smile. He wishes he could see that everyday, feel the way it lights him up from the inside. . . But that’s a fool’s game to play, and Yves is no court jester. He’s a prince, —a cowardly one, and he’s not the kind of man you deserve. He’s not the kind of man anyone should truly care for.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you answer. “You’ve been very generous to myself and my family’s bakery. . . Really, it’s the least I can do. I’m afraid I’m not sure how else to repay the kindness.”

Perish the thought, honestly. He’d do anything just to see you every now and again, to reach out and remind himself that not everyone in this kingdom thinks him to be some kind of humanized betrayal. You look at him with such kindness in your eyes, and it’s a welcome change from the harsh, judgemental stares he often receives on his way anywhere at all. At least with you, he feels content; like there’s no shackles keeping him glued to a place of constant scrutiny.

You see him as he is, —and you ignore everything he isn’t. And he loves you for it.

You pack up two slices of the honey cake, thinking maybe if he really hadn’t eaten that much today, he’d be able to enjoy it at some point or another. As you hand the little box over, you don’t bother to insist he keep his coins in his pocket. He’s already fumbling around in his pockets for payment likely double that of the actual price.

“We’ll have macarons on sale this weekend, if you’d be interested in stopping by,” you smile, handing him the box of honey cake slices. “I can save you some.”

Even if he didn’t want them, (which he most certainly did), he would have accepted your offer anyway. If it means he has a valid excuse to come see you for a bit, then count Yves in without question.

“I’d like that,” he answers, his fingers brushing oh so gently against your own as he takes the box from your hands.

You swore you could see the faintest smile pull at his lips, but it was gone before you could be certain of it.

The time comes once again for him to leave, and you watch him go with a newfound longing. From the window of the bakery, you watch as his lean frame eventually turns the closest corner, and he disappears for the time being. . . He’ll be back soon enough, you’re sure, but a part of you always hates to see him go.

Maybe one day he won’t have to, but for now, you resign yourself to closing shop, the thought of him dancing around in your head.

#yves #yves kloss #yves x reader #yves kloss x reader #yves kloss reader insert #yves ikemen prince #yves kloss ikemen prince #ikemen prince #ikeseries #ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince x you #yves kloss x you #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikepri yves kloss #ikeseries x reader #ikeseries yves kloss

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aredheadedmess · 2 years

Text

Pied Piper || JJK [8]

Summary: Y/N L/N, an investigative journalist for the Daily Bullet, usually doesn’t see much out of the ordinary; A missing person’s case gone cold, an old case reopened and solved with updated technology, the thrilling excitement when another puzzle of one of the biggest serial killers is cracked. But when an old file resurfaces, she brings back a past that should have been burned with the file a long time ago.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: One swear word, talks about disappearing children, allusion to the paranormal and unexplainable things, this is also a very dialogue heavy chapter. let me know if I missed anything

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Strangers to Friends

Chapter Rating: Pg-13

A/N: I'm back! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out 😓 I lost motivation to do a lot of things, and when I finally got back to writing this, I scrapped my original idea and rewrote. I can't tell you guys how many times I rewrote this haha... and then uni started up again so I unintentionally pushed this to the side. BUT now I'm back and I hope to finish up this series soon! There's a couple of major things that I want to happen before it ends, so look forward to a couple more chapters! I hope you like it! 😊

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6 September, 20XX

It shouldn’t have taken you as long as it did to get here; standing on the front porch of the most recent disappearance victim. After your talk with Jungkook, you knew there was no easy way of approaching the subject with the woman. The questions you needed to ask demanded so much from the person answering. So you kept to yourself.

For the past two days, you kept yourself tucked away in your room. You paced the floor, thoughts running a mile a minute about everything that had happened so far. From when you first drove into town, to the heavy conversation with Jungkook a day prior. You tried to find the best way to ask the questions to get enough information in return without hurting the victim even farther than they already were. But there really wasn’t an easier way.

The front door slowly opens only far enough to peek outside; the chain on the top of the door restricts it from opening any more. Martha peeks through the crack. You smile gently at her, hoping she will recognize you from when she saw you a couple nights ago. She offers a small smile in return.

“Hi, Martha,” you begin slowly. “Is it alright if I come in and ask you some questions?”

She nods, almost frantically. She shuts the door, and you can hear the frantic movements of the deadbolt being shifted around before the door swings open again.

“Sure, sure.” She waves you in. “Yes, come on in. Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is just fine, thank you.”

As you enter the house, Martha nods towards the living room seating. You make yourself comfortable as she grabs a glass of water for both you and her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Please, get comfortable.”

You gesture to the couch opposite the one you are on. Waiting until she gets settled in, you review the notes you’ve already made in the file you brought along with you, preparing your pen to take any more notes. You take a deep breath. Hopefully you can get all the information you need to get your foot in the door in this investigation.

“I was hoping to ask you about what exactly happened two nights ago?” you ask slowly.

“Of course.” Her face hardens into a look of determination. “I am willing to answer anything to find my daughter.”

“Thank you. Now, can you describe to me how you found out she was gone?”

Martha sighs, leaning back into the couch. She clasps her hands in her lap and fiddles with her thumbs.

“Well, it was two nights ago, as you said. I had been home after work for a little while, preparing to make dinner for the two of us.”

You nod and tilt your head in curiosity.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m an antique dealer at a pawn shop in the next town over. I work eight to four on the weekdays.”

Martha smiles at the thought of her work. She must seem to really enjoy what she does.

“Okay. And you mentioned ‘the two of us’. Is it just you and your daughter?”

“Yes,” she hums, nodding. “Her father left us when she was little. It’s been her and I since she could walk.”

She looks up at you, waiting for you to ask another question. Instead, you gently nod your head, letting her know she can continue her thoughts. Martha glances back down at her restless hands. She clears her throat, licks her drying lips, and takes in another breath before speaking again.

“Well, I went upstairs to check in on her, and know her plans for the rest of the night. When I made it to her room, she was at her desk, working through the most recent packets for her classes. We had talked for a few minutes before I went back downstairs to continue working on dinner.”

“So you had seen and talked to her before she disappeared?” you ask.

“Yes. She seemed completely fine.” Her brows furrow as she shakes her head slightly. “She never mentioned anything alarming. Her and I have a really good relationship where we try not to hide anything from each other.”

You nod. There is a moment of silence between the two of you as you write down some of the key notes. The only sound being the scratching of the pen against the paper. Your eyes lift up as you finish, nodding again for her to continue.

“I was in the kitchen in the middle of cooking when I heard the radio suddenly playing.” Her head tilts in the direction of the kitchen. Your eyes follow, catching a glimpse of an old radio, weathered from the many years of use. “I thought it was just Ayesha, but when I looked over, the room was empty. I thought it was odd at first, but the damn thing is so old that it will sometimes turn on by itself. I didn’t think anything of it until I realized what it was playing. It was something that I’ve never heard before. We always leave it on one station, so when it does turn on, it’ll play that station. It’s never once changed to a different one.”

Your eyes never leave the radio. Standing up, you walk towards it.

“Is it this one, here?”

“That’s the one.” Martha’s voice is close behind you. She must have gotten up herself as you made your way to the radio. “I had walked over to it to turn it off, but when I got to it, it wasn’t even on in the first place. But, it still kept playing this odd tune. Something like a flute playing through the speakers.”

You study the radio. The bright red paint is wearing off most of the antique. The knobs on the front have been used so much that the sides are worn down enough to see where your fingers should hold them. The glass covering the frequency indicator is slightly scratched when the light hits it just right. You glance around to the back, noting that it had been modified to use the house’s electrical system to stay powered. Though, when you look down at the wall socket, there is nothing plugged in.

“Did you unplug it?”

You glance up at Martha, an eyebrow raised in question. She nods as she looks at the outlet herself.

“Yes. I was trying to get it to stop playing. But nothing changed even after unplugging it.”

“That’s odd.”

Your brows knit together trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe the radio has a backup battery for when the power is out, to keep it playing. But when you glance at the back of the radio again, you realize there is no way a battery with enough power of any size could be hidden away.

Leaning down to plug the radio back in, you wait for any sign of electrical problems. Perhaps there was just a short after having it plugged in for so long. You aren’t an expert of the topic, by any means, but maybe if you could find where the problem might be, there would be at least one thing explained away.

“I remember hearing the stories that the folks around here would say about the disappearances,” Martha utters. You lift yourself back up to face her. “You know, the old tale of hearing faint music drift through the air, something that no one else hears but the person that will disappear. I didn’t believe it all at first. Mostly because it was all of the elders saying it, which you know, sometimes they aren’t always in the right space.”

You hum. Even from the short time working on this case, you read and heard most—if not all—the folklore surrounding the disappearances. Martha meets your gaze, a stone cold shiver running down her spine, and a flash of fear in her eyes as she begins to recall what she experienced.

“But there was something that just clicked in me once I realized that I couldn’t turn it off. I knew that it was the Piper’s music. The same music that was in the stories. I can’t tell you how fast I ran back up to Ayesha’s room. I opened her door, hoping that she would still be in there, at her desk. But the room was empty. As if she had vanished into the air. Everything was left like she had just stepped out to use the bathroom or something. The only weird thing about the room was her window.”

“Her window?”

“Yes.” Martha’s voice is stern. “She never has it open during the night. It gets drafty in her room, and the open window doesn’t help. Especially on cooler nights like that night.”

You glance up to the top of the staircase, as far up as you can see from the position you’re in. In the darkness of the upper floor, you can make out the beginning of a door frame just past the top of the last step.

“Is it alright if I took a look in her room?” you ask.

“Yes, of course. Follow me.”

Martha leads you to the staircase, flipping the lightswitch on the wall beside it to light the way. She takes a hesitant first step. Grabbing onto the railing, Martha ascends the stairs with you in tow. The boards creak under the weight, and one stair in particular screeches loudly as if it were shouting in agony. You glance around once you make it to the landing. There are three doors, one of which is wide open, showcasing the simple hallway bathroom. Martha pushes open the door nearest to the stairs.

“This is her room.”

The bedroom is just about as big as the studio apartment you use to live in during your college days. A twin bed is situated in the corner beside the window, its purple sheets crumpled slightly from someone sitting on the edge of the mattress. The closet doors a foot or two away from the foot of the bed. A small desk, papers and books scattered across the surface, sits up against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the window. The chair is pulled out and twisted as if someone had just stepped away from the desk. Your eyes glance over to the window where a light breeze is gently tossing the light purple curtains towards the center of the room.

You take a step into the room, skimming through the contents of the papers on the desk before making your way to the window. You lean down to scan the frame and stick your head outside, memorizing the view. You can see the top floors of the school several blocks down, and the old general store is just down the street from where they live. Pushing yourself back into the room to face Martha, your eyebrows furrow. One brow lifting in question.

“And this is exactly how you found it?”

She nods. She plays with her fingers as she avoids any eye contact with you, barely even looking at any of the things in the bedroom.

“Yes. I didn’t touch a thing. When I saw she was gone, that’s when I came running over to find you.”

“How did you know about me, anyway?” You tilt your head as you ask.

“It’s not that hard to find a new face roaming the empty streets.” Martha shrugs. “My daughter had mentioned about a woman who looked to have been collecting information about the town, so I had assumed that you must have been a reporter or something. And the Jungkook boy has the only place that would make sense to hold a new visitor.”

“I see,” you hum, glancing out the window one last time.

You step closer to Martha with a gentle smile resting on your lips.

“I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. I hope that I can give you the answers you need,” you speak with sincerity.

Martha shakes her head, stepping toward you herself and takes your hands in hers. A hopeful look takes over her features.

“No, thank you. I know that you will be able to help this town. I have a good feeling about it.”

“We will find her.”

“Thank you.”

You shove your notes and dead laptop into your backpack. The duffle bag for your clothes lays open on the bed, a couple of items still lounging about.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s sudden presence startles you slightly. He’s very quiet, you’ve come to learn, showing up out of the blue when you least expect it. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble, still preoccupied with packing to give him anything more than that.

A scoff rings out in the air. You furrow your eyebrows and glance up to where Jungkook stands. A strained smirk is painted on his face. His tongue pushes into the inside of his cheek. “I knew it. You’re just like the rest of them. Promising that you’ll help, only to leave this town in the dust once you get confirmation that we are just a bunch of hopeless cases.”

You quickly stand up from your crouched position on the floor. Getting up in Jungkook’s face to tell him your thoughts has become a lot easier the longer you’ve been here. So when he stumbles back slightly from the sudden close proximity, you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Though, you don’t focus much on it as you briefly explain why.

“I need back up. I’ll only be gone for the rest of today, so stop jumping to conclusions. You don’t know how hard I’m trying to keep the promises I’m making.”

Jungkook must have sensed your tenacity as he steps back, raising his hands in surrender before turning away towards the living room.

He wishes you a safe trip back into the big city.

The closer you drive to the town’s borders, the heavier the air feels. It’s as if there is an invisible force field over the town and the energy from it continuously affects you negatively. It doesn’t help that there is a dark storm rolling in over the mountains as you drive away. You can hear the rumbling of thunder from the inside of your car. It’s going to be a big storm.

As your car creeps up to the town boundary, you catch a glimpse of something dark from the corner of your eye. You turn your head to see what it is. Your eyes grow wide. Standing behind the welcome sign to the town, a dark figure seems to wave at you in the shadows. Though it has no distinct features, it looks as if it is grinning widely at you as you pass by. A cold shiver runs up your spine.

“What the f- Shit!”

As you turn back to face the road, a small herd of deer sprint across right in front of you. You have to slam on your brakes to stop you from knocking through the innocent animals. You manage to stop inches away from an unsuspecting dear. It’s frozen in the middle of the lane, staring your frantic form down. Too close for comfort. After taking a moment to catch your breath, you honk, sending the deer into a slight frenzy, and scaring it away. You glance through your rear view mirror at the sign as you start back up again, but there is nothing there.

“Yoongi!”

A head of shaggy brown hair whips towards the sound of your voice. Yoongi’s face lights up as he recognizes who you are. He rushes to stand in front of you, a look of worry taking over his face. He eyes you up and down like a worried mother, looking for any kind of injury.

“Y/N? Where have you been? It’s been a month. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Yoongi spits rapid fire questions at you. You both have joked in the past that he should have become a rapper with how fast he speaks sometimes.

Confusion is written all over your face. A month? You had only been working on the case for a week and a half at most.

“No it hasn’t? It’s only been like two weeks.”

“You’re kidding, right?” he scoffs.

“No? My phone’s been dead, but there’s still no way that-”

“Ms. L/N?”

Your eyes light up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice. Turning to face him, you rush out what you needed to ask of him.

“Perfect. Mr. Kim, I need all the help I can get.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a strong gaze watching your every move.

“Are you still working on that case? We have tried everything we can to help that town.” He shakes his head absentmindedly. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“No.”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi look at you like you’re crazy. Did you just say no to the boss? Taking this case changed you quite a bit. Before, you would have never faced Namjoon the way you are right now. Before, you would submit to whatever Namjoon had told you to do as he would take over and close up most of the cases you worked on. Some of the surrounding employees must have heard or felt the shift in the air as they stare at the three of you without even trying to hide.

“I won’t take that as an answer,” you continue. “I need anybody that I can get. Forensics, paranormal, literally anyone.”

“Look L/-”

“Mr. Kim,” you interrupt.

Your voice is unwavering. Your feet are planted into the floor as if he is trying to knock you down with his words. Your eyes bore into his, trying to get your message through his thick skull.

Namjoon takes in a breath. He closes his eyes, bows his head slightly, and raises one hand.

“Fine. It won’t be very many, since most departments are busy with their own cases, but I’ll let them know. Min, go with L/N.”

A smile creeps up onto your lips.

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk up to the door of Jungkook’s Bed and Breakfast, bags in hand, and Yoongi on your tail. Before you step up to the porch, you turn to Yoongi.

“Be aware that you may not get the warmest of welcomes.”

Yoongi’s brows crease and a small pout forms on his lips.

“What do you mean?”

Without another word, you face forward again and walk up the steps. The front door swings open before you have the chance to ring the doorbell. Jungkook looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You call your boyfriend your backup?”

You push through the door, forcing Jungkook to move out of your and Yoongi’s way to get inside quickly. The sun is beginning to set and you didn’t want to stay outside any longer after what happened earlier in the day.

“One, he’s not my boyfriend,” you call out as you walk through the house to get to your room. “He’s got a fiance. Two, there will be others coming tomorrow. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You glance back to see Jungkook grumble out something under his breath at your last few words. He takes one quick look at you, then Yoongi, rolling his eyes before speaking at you rather than the person he is referring to.

“He can take the room next to yours.”

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92 notes · View notes

quil12 · 1 year

Note

if i may request another (and ur into the concept heh)……. souyo + role swap?

Sorry that this took so long lmao - I had to think a while about what I wanted to do for this - mostly about Yu and how his Shadow would fit into everything. It also ended up being pretty long (almost 4k words), so it took me a little while to write.

That being said, here it is!

Yosuke yawned, stretching as he woke up. He could have sworn that he just had had a really weird dream, but he couldn’t remember much about it - just the faint memory of something blue.

He glanced out the window of the car, biting back a groan. It was just fields, and grass, and trees as far as the eye could see. He hadn’t even been out of the city for half a day and he was already missing it.

His dad had just gotten a promotion, although was it really worth it if they had to move all the way out into the middle of nowhere?

They looked to just be reaching the town. Inaba. It was such a tiny little place - almost anywhere else would have been better. Why couldn’t they have at least been moving to another city? If he couldn’t live in Tokyo, he would have taken Sendai or Osaka or Kagoshima. Hell, he would have even taken Sapporo, moving all the way up to Hokkaido. But no, he had to be trapped in this tiny rural town with nothing to do for the next who knew how long.

He took a deep breath.

Maybe it would be fine. Maybe he would be able to make friends and find things to do. He didn’t have any reputation here yet. Maybe he could figure out some way to give himself a positive first impression and really make the most out of his time here.

They quickly got into the town, driving through the tiny shopping district. There were a few people walking around, but not a lot of them.

“I’m going to stop and get some gas before going the rest of the way,” his dad said from the front seat.

Great. That meant longer sitting in the shopping district. At least there was some amount of excitement in getting to see their house for the first time, but now he had to wait to even do that.

They pulled into the gas station, parking next to one of the pumps. An attendant came by quickly, greeting them.

“I’m going to get out and stretch my legs,” his mom said, opening the door. “Yosuke, sweetheart, why don’t you join me.”

“Okay.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, opening the car door, and stepping outside. It was starting to get into fall, so the air was brisk and chilly. Even in the middle of town, it smelled so much cleaner than any place in the city ever was.

“How are you feeling?” his mom asked as soon as they were outside the car.

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to have happen, but I know that you’ll make lots of friends here and you’ll be able to make the most of it.”

Yosuke nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. They had talked about this before, but it never got much easier.

“I’m actually going to go walk around for a few minutes. Feel free to join me.”

“Okay.” He considered following her, but instead just leaned up against the side of the car, looking at the street beyond the gas station. So this was it, huh. The place he was living.

“So, you’re just moving here from the city?”

Yosuke looked up to see the gas station attendant standing a few feet away from him.

“Oh, yeah.”

“There’s really not a lot of things to do out here compared to the big city. You’ll probably either be hanging out with friends or working a part time job. Speaking of which, we’re actually hiring here if you’re looking for one.”

He gave a small laugh. “Unfortunately, I think I’ll have a job already working at the Junes that’s about to open up. My dad’s going to be the manager.”

“Ah, well, either way, it was nice to meet you.”

The attendant reached out his hand. Yosuke reached out almost instinctively, shaking his hand.

“Uh, yeah.”

Almost immediately, a flash of dizziness passed through him. He let go of his hand.

“Yosuke-kun? Are you feeling all right?” His mom was just walking back toward them.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just felt kind of dizzy all of a sudden.”

She frowned. “All right. We should probably get going then. You can lay down when we get to the house.”

He nodded, getting back in the car. He was probably just tired.

- - -

Today was his first day as a second year. It was going to be a good year. He knew it.

People hadn’t been too thrilled to have him in town, and really, he couldn’t blame them too much. A lot of the shops in the shopping district were going under because of Junes, and he, by association with his dad, had become the sort of face of it.

He tried to not let it get to him though, being as kind and pleasant to people as possible. He had even made a few friends - kind of.

There was Chie, who had been in his class the last year. She had leant him a movie that he was going to return that day. She seemed like fun to hang out with.

There were also Kou and Daisuke. He had hung out with them a few times after school when he had had nothing to do and one of them had been practicing. If he had more time, he would have joined one of the sports clubs, but he really couldn’t do that and work.

There was also Saki-senpai. She had really been his favorite of the friends that he had made. She was outwardly kind to him when almost no one else was. She had every right to hate him - her family’s liquor store was one of the businesses struggling to stay afloat with Junes in town - but she treated him kindly, telling him that he wasn’t responsible for what his parents did.

Really, it was boring there, but he could feel that it was going to get better.

- - -

There was a new transfer student.

His name was Yu Narukami.

He had helped him, pulling him out of a trash can when he had crashed into it. He wasn’t proud that that had happened, but at least he didn’t seem to be judging him for it.

“Thanks for the help, dude. I’m Yosuke Hanamura.”

“Yu Narukami.”

“Oh, yeah. I actually sit right behind you in class.”

“Right.”

The two of them started walking, heading in the direction of the school.

“So, why exactly did you move out to Inaba? There’s not exactly a lot to do around here.”

“My parents are overseas on a business trip for the next year, so I came to live with my uncle while they’re gone.”

Yosuke hummed. “I can kinda relate. I’m here because of my dad’s job.”

The two of them talked a little bit more about living in the town as they headed to the school. He seemed cool.

- - -

Yosuke stared into the turned off TV, his arms crossed.

This was dumb. Why was he even actually trying to do this?

Earlier that day, Chie had told them about the rumor of the Midnight Channel, saying that if you looked into a turned off TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’d see your soulmate.

There was no way that it was true, but he had promised to try it out.

He glanced toward his clock, watching as the time ticked from 11:59 to 12:00.

All of a sudden, there was the sound of static as the TV in front of him flickered to life. He stepped back in surprise, staring with wide eyes at the screen.

There was a girl on it with long, wavy, brown hair. She looked familiar, almost like Saki-senpai. Did that mean that she was supposed to be his soulmate…?

All of a sudden, an intense flash of dizziness followed by a severe headache went through him. He groaned, holding his head in his hands. Words flickered from deep inside his head.

I am thou… Thou art I

He took a deep breath, looking back toward the TV. He had the sudden urge to lay his hand on it. What would happen if he did that?

He walked closer to the TV, reaching his hand out, touching the flat surface.

Almost immediately, his hand slipped through the screen. He yelped, immediately pulling back as the image flickered, then disappeared.

He scrambled back, away from the TV, watching it with wide eyes, but it had apparently turned itself off.

Had that all just been a dream?

He looked down at his hand - the one that had slipped through the screen.

A dream. That’s what it must have been.

- - -

It wasn’t a dream.

That fact was made clear to him as soon as he had taken Chie and Yu to the electronics department at Junes, wanting someone else to be able to witness what had happened.

Neither of them had believed him until he had stuck his hand straight through the screen. He hadn’t even quite believed it himself until he had gone tumbling through and into the almost limitless space beyond.

Both Yu and Chie had fallen with him, all of them bearing witness to this unbelievably strange world filled with yellow fog.

They had been looking for a way out when they had wandered into what seemed to be a bedroom.

It seemed like it somehow belonged to the announcer, Mayumi Yamano - a woman who had just been found dead in Inaba. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

After a while of wandering around, they had come across this weird bear… thing, who had given them the means to get out of that world.

He had gone home early that night, so confused, but also feeling so exhausted.

- - -

Saki-senpai was dead.

She had been found in much the same way as the announcer - strung up upside down on a telephone pole.

He wanted to do something about it. He couldn’t just stand by and let someone get away with killing her.

She had appeared on the Midnight Channel. Maybe that was somehow linked to that other world they had gone to. Maybe there were answers in there.

He had asked Yu to come with him, wanting someone to be there to help, before going to Junes after school, both of them heading inside.

They met the bear thing again, who introduced himself as Teddie. He also accused them of being the one who had been throwing people in there. They had denied it, but he still seemed suspicious of them.

That being said, that meant that Saki-senpai really had come into this world. That meant someone had murdered her. He was going to find out who.

Teddie had given both of them glasses to help see through the fog. Putting them on had instantly minimized the oppressive feeling the whole place was giving off. He wasn’t sure how they worked, but he was grateful to have them.

They had asked Teddie to show them where she had been when she came in, and he had led them to a place that looked like some weird and twisted version of the shopping district. They walked until they found the liquor store.

All of a sudden, Teddie got scared, cowering. “They’re coming.”

“What’s coming?” Yosuke asked, frowning.

He looked toward the liquor store, watching as three black shapes materialized out of it, forming into monstrous shapes. They moved, coming toward them as if to attack them.

Teddie was still cowering while Yu was staring at them, fear apparent in his eyes. He needed to do something. He needed to protect them. He wasn’t going to let them die to these things.

All of a sudden, a voice rang loud and clear in his head.

I am though. Though art I. The time has come to open thine eyes and call forth what is within.

He held his head in his hand as a headache started pounding against his skull.

He looked down into his other hand, blinking as he saw he was now grasping tightly onto a card. He flipped it over, furrowing his brow as he saw that it was blank.

As he stared down at it, the headache slowly subsided, replacing itself with an almost tingly sensation. It filled him up, power coursing through his body. There was a blue light coming from around him, engulfing the whole area in the color.

One word entered his mind as he crushed the card in his hand.

“Persona.”

The power rushed through him, forming itself into a shape behind him. It was such an amazing feeling. He didn’t even really know what it was, but he really liked it.

The figure fully materialized. He somehow knew what it was called - Jiraiya.

A strong wind blew through the area, messing up his hair. He didn’t care though.

The monsters - or whatever they were actually called - seemed to be struggling in the wind, backing off from where they were standing. He kept it up, continuing to batter them in it until they began melting into puddles of black goop.

As soon as they were gone, he let the figure disappear, almost collapsing onto the ground. That had taken a lot out of him.

Yu was immediately by his side, grabbing hold of his arm, keeping him upright. “Are you all right. What was that?”

“I’ll be fine. And… I… Persona?”

“Persona?”

“I think that’s what it’s called?”

“Oh wow, Sensei, that was so cool. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to the shadows like that before.”

Yosuke looked over to see Teddie a few feet to his other side, speaking excitedly.

“Sensei…? Are you talking about me.”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

Yosuke shrugged it off. He didn’t suppose that it mattered.

“Come on. Let’s go inside. I want to find out what happened to Saki-senpai.”

He started walking toward the door, heading inside the building. Yu and Teddie walked in behind him.

He looked around the room they had ended up in, walking over to a table off to one side, gaze locking on to a familiar picture. It was one that all of the part time employees at Junes had taken. He was standing there next to Saki, smiling widely at the camera.

As he set the picture back down, a very familiar voice sounded from seemingly nowhere - Saki-senpai.

She started talking about how she hadn’t actually liked him and how she was just being nice to him because he was the manager’s son. Hearing those words said to him in her voice hurt, but, on some level, he had known that there had been part of her that had felt that way.

All of a sudden, another voice started speaking.

“‘Is she Yosuke’s girlfriend?’” the voice said, as if imitating someone. “Well, very clearly not.”

That sounded like Yu. It was a little bit off though. He looked over toward him, but he was standing there, staring with wide eyes at something behind him.

He turned, blinking in surprise. It was Yu. Another Yu. He looked practically identical to the one standing beside him, except for the yellow eyes and the smirk that he had on his face.

The other Yu started speaking again. “She kind of hated him, then, didn’t she? Isn’t that great?”

“What are you…?” Yu said from beside him.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Now that it’s not some tragic love story, maybe I’d have a chance.”

Yosuke frowned. What was going on? Have a chance at what?

Yu’s eyes widened. “That’s not…”

“That’s not what?” He took a few steps forward, toward them. “Yosuke. I’ve been thinking since I met you about how hot you are. About all the things that I want to do with you. About all the things that I want to do to you.”

Yosuke took a step back. He looked toward Yu, who was standing there, staring intently at the floor. He wasn’t even sure how to react to that.

“Dude, what is it saying? Are you…?”

Yu looked up, gaze locking on to the other version of him. “I don’t know why you have my face, but whatever you’re trying to imply isn’t true.”

The other version of him let out a loud laugh. “Don’t try to play dumb. I know how you really feel because I am you.”

“That’s not-”

“And you didn’t want him to find out, now, did you? You finally found someone that you thought that you could be friends with, but he’s definitely going to abandon you after this. But that’s par for the course, isn’t it? You’re always going to be abandoned by people. Why would anyone actually want to hang around with you.”

Yosuke didn’t really understand what was going on, but it seemed like whatever it was, it was putting Yu on edge. Were these his real feelings about things? He could relate on that front of feeling abandoned by people - none of his friends from the city had even once tried to text him since he moved out here.

And then there was the other part. The part implying that he might be into him. The thought of that should have freaked him out, but for some reason, it made his heart start pounding in his chest. Yu was hot, so the fact that he, of all people, might be interested in him was insanely flattering.

Yu’s eyes were locked on this other version of himself, his fists clenched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t… Whatever you are, you’re definitely not me.”

At those words, the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift.

The other version of Yu began laughing - a laugh that he could never have imagined coming from his mouth, dark energy swirling all around him, electricity popping and flashing through the air.

“That’s right. I’m me now.”

Yosuke watched with wide eyes as he transformed with the energy, turning into something he could only really describe as a monster.

Yu had fallen back, staring up at the thing, his mouth open.

Whatever was happening, he knew that he needed to protect him. He wasn’t about to let him get hurt or die to this thing. He hadn’t been able to protect Saki-senpai and he wasn’t just about to sit back and let something happen to Yu now.

In the corner of the room, Teddie was cowering, also looking up at the monster.

“Teddie, do you know what’s going on?”

He looked up at him. “It’s his Shadow. It’s gone bearserk. If someone denies their Shadow, it becomes like this.”

His Shadow…? He would have to ask what that meant later, but for the time being, he would just have to deal with it himself.

He took a deep breath, thinking back to what he had done when he had summoned his Persona before.

He successfully summoned the card in front of him, crushing it.

“Persona.”

As soon as he summoned it, he had it batter the Shadow with wind. That had worked decently before. It seemed to be a good move as it tumbled back a little, seemingly stunned by the gale force winds that were rushing toward it.

He could only keep that up for a few seconds though, the effort exhausting him.

As soon as the Shadow stood back up, electricity began crackling through the air, making the hair on his arms stand up.

There was a flash of light. Completely on instinct, he jumped to the left, just barely making it out of the way as a bolt of lightning hit the ground where he had been standing mere moments before.

His heart was pounding. That had been close. He definitely didn’t want to get hit by one of those.

That was how the rest of the fight went. He tried to hit it with wind whenever he was able, but that was broken up by him having to dodge the lightning strikes it was trying to hit him with.

After what seemed like an eternity, he hit the Shadow with one last strong blast of wind and it collapsed to the floor, the same dark energy surrounding it, warping it back into a form that looked a lot like Yu.

He was breathing hard, but he turned to Yu, who was still sitting on the floor, where he had apparently been watching the fight.

“Yu.” He walked over to him, crouching beside him, and laying his hand on his shoulder. “I know that you probably don’t want to admit it, but what it was saying was true, at least partially, right? I know what it’s like to feel abandoned by friends. I’m not sure I know about the other stuff.” He bit his lip. “But I’m not going to abandon you over it, okay? We’re friends.”

Yu looked down at the ground before standing up, walking over to where his Shadow was standing. He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m scared of being abandoned. I’m scared of losing friends and making people hate me. I’m scared that people won’t like me for who I am. I’m scared that Yosuke would hate me if he found out how I was actually feeling about him. I… You are me. I see that now.”

His Shadow seemed to smile at him before disappearing in a flash of light, a new form taking its place. It slowly faded, getting replaced by a card that Yu immediately clutched in his hand.

“Izanagi,” he whispered.

Was that his Persona? It certainly seemed like something similar to what Jiraiya had been.

Yosuke walked over to him, grasping onto his arm - it seemed like he was about ready to fall over. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be all right.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Yu nodded, and the two of them started heading toward the entrance, Teddie not far behind them.

He still had questions regard Saki-senpai, but he wanted to make sure that Yu was okay first. He didn’t know all of what was going to happen, but he thought that it would all work out so long as he was by his side.

#souyo #fanfiction #i did break the lore a little bit here lmao #if izanami was responsible for giving yosuke a persona #then his should have been izanagi #but that felt really weird #and then what would yus have been?#so he just got jiraiya #its fine lmao #i also mildly forgot about teddie during the shadow scene #but i dont even know what i would have him do #so hes there #just not talking lmao

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— reparations 01 ⟢

a man walks into a bar— no, smashes his bike into your shop: what do you do?

★ FEATURING; arataki itto x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.3k words

★ TAGS; modern au, flower shop au, slow burn, idiots to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, no smut, sfw

★ NOTABLE CHARACTERS; arataki itto, kuki shinobu, thoma, kaedehara kazuha

★ WARNINGS; motorcycle accidents, blood imagery, hospital visits, but nothing too gory or violent

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

“Thank you for your patronage!”

The elderly woman, who’s also your first customer for the day, grins as she receives the bouquet from your grasp. “No, thank you, dear. Your arrangements are always so lovely.”

You managed a soft laugh, the ping of the cash register resounding in the air. “You flatter me too much, Amane-san! I’m just like any other florist out there.”

“Any other florist wouldn’t dare put up shop in this part of town, though,” she chuckles, gentle fingers caressing a patch of baby’s breath rather fondly. “Though you make it much easier to bring flowers to my husband, aren’t you afraid? You know who runs this district, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” you say, tearing off the receipt printed out by the register before handing it to her. “They’re the ones who own this complex after all.”

Amane nods, smile not faltering. “Then you’ll be just fine. Most folks from the city are quick to judge little Arataki’s gang. Bunch of troublemakers, they said, but what they don’t know is that they’re the ones who keep Hanamizaka the way it is… Oh, never mind me! This is just an old lady’s rambling.”

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “I don’t think the, uh, Arataki Gang’s all that bad. At least their secretary isn’t. Oh, here she comes now.”

The chimes on the front door tinkle softly at the entrance of a new customer that you receive with a kind smile. Kuki Shinobu is not your everyday right-hand woman to Hanamizaka’s band of thugs. For someone managing a rather…unorthodox organization, she seems a bit more put-together than you would otherwise assume gangsters should be. When Shinobu walks into your flower shop, she looks like any other straight-laced college student you’ve come across in the city—looking around as if she didn’t drop by every morning.

“Oh, Shi-chan!” Amane gushes. “I didn’t know you were looking after our newcomer here. The boys didn’t cause any trouble, I hope?”

Shinobu sighs. “The last tenant packed his bags and left because they scared away all his customers. I explicitly told them not to bother the next one that tenders a lease with us.” Turning to you, she spares a small smile. “Speaking of which, good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Shinobu,” you chirp. “Is it gonna be the usual for today?”

“Yeah. Oh, wait, no. Do you have anything more fragrant? Specifically something that calms the nerves?” she asks, reaching into her backpack to hand you an ornate vase that seems more expensive than it looks. “Our boss has been feeling off-kilter for the past two days, and his mood swings aren’t doing anyone favors.”

“How about you fix her up with some silk flowers, dear?” Amane suggests, gesturing to the bouquet in her hands. “My husband adored them, and we always ordered some seeds from the old flower shop in the city back in the day. I’m sure little Arataki will snap out of it once he gets a whiff of them in that cramped office of his.”

“Does that work for you?” you ask Shinobu, and she nods. “Alright, give me…fifteen minutes to prep, and we’ll be all set!”

This is how your mornings usually turn out.

For a quick backstory: after living in the capital of Inazuma City for the past twenty-four years, you decided to move out of your old childhood home and live independently. It was a decision that neither of your parents were happy to agree with at first, but you managed to meet the conditions they’d set once you graduated from college. Those being: 1.) Have a stable source of income; and 2.) Don’t move too far away.

It took you a couple of months to survey whether a flower shop would flourish in the neighboring district of Hanamizaka. But once you’ve confirmed that the business opportunity was too good to pass up—the elderly living in this area seriously had a green thumb or two—you decided to hunt for a good apartment and commercial space as soon as you could. That’s how you ended up meeting Shinobu, the secretary (or was it deputy?) of the so-called Arataki Gang. Apart from their supposed claim over this district, they also owned a two-floor building that they rented out for extra revenue.

You’ve only heard about the gang in passing during your college days, when one of your friends accidentally waltzed into their territory once. They took his presence as a threat, apparently, and the boss was quick to issue a challenge in the streets of Hanamizaka. Needless to say, the tall tale only made you more curious with the things that go on outside the city. Now here you are, about three weeks into your new lease in a place legally owned by the Arataki Gang.

But…despite all the stories told by Amane and some of your other customers, you haven’t seen any members lingering around. It’s mostly just Shinobu that gives your shop the time of day, and if you did happen to spot anyone that resembles a gangster, they were quick to scat. As if they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

And with all the countless complaints you’ve heard about the boss from Shinobu (“Little Arataki”, as Amane liked to address him), you’re yet to meet the man in the flesh.

It’s not like you want to be introduced to someone who can potentially be a yakuza, but…

“Meow.”

As you clean up the leftover stems on your work table, your tabby, Mikan, hops onto the counter behind you, tail swishing with imminent curiosity. You toss the plastic bag containing the disposed remains of Shinobu’s most recent purchase into the bin, clapping the residue off your hands. When you reach out to scratch under her ears, Mikan purrs out a delightful little sound.

“It’s about time we ate some brunch, yeah?”

The next morning, you open up shop like usual. Checking up on plants that need supplementing, calling in for another order of clay pots (your stock is rapidly depleting), and entertaining orders from customers that step inside the store. The clear glass of the display windows makes it fairly easy to spot anyone that might harbor an interest in all things botanical, so you always manage to greet everyone with a sunny disposition.

Well, almost everyone.

“So when do you plan on telling her again?” Your eye twitches as you put together a very extravagant sweet flower bouquet. “We’ve been friends since freshman year, and you’ve liked her since freshman year. That was, what? Six years ago? And you still haven’t told her?”

Thoma pouts at you. “Hey, you talk like admitting your feelings for someone is a walk in the park.”

“It’s not, but keeping quiet for six years is so uncool, Thoma!”

“Not like I’m trying to be cool,” he mumbles. “Oh, do you have any of those cherry blossom designs, by the way? Do you think they’ll look nice with the bouquet?”

You shoot him one last condescending look before rummaging through the cabinets near the windows. Each level contains different flower-arranging paraphernalia. From scented wrapping paper to customized wicker baskets—everything you need to fashion one creative bouquet to another is readily available; artificial embellishments like the one Thoma wants included.

… if they’re in stock, that is.

“Hate to break it to you, but I forgot someone placed an order that used up all my cherry blossom stems last week,” you sigh. “I think I can get my hands on some new stock later in the day, though. I’ll just have someone deliver it to your place or something… Unless you’re finally going to confess to Ayaka for real. I can definitely improvise if that’s the case.”

Thoma laughs, but the sound is a bit dry. “It’s just a little congratulations for securing a partnership with Watatsumi University. You know how serious she is about her job, right?”

Kamisato Ayaka is, indeed, the overachiever in your old college friend group. After graduation, she was offered a distinguished position in the Faculty of International Relations & Culture—something everyone agreed she deserved and more. You haven’t been able to keep in touch with Ayaka since you moved out of your parents’ house, but Thoma is thankfully here to update you about their goings-on.

“Fine, fine. Just have it delivered,” Thoma tells you, pulling out his wallet only to inevitably frown at it. You heave another sigh. “Uh, put it on my tab for next time?”

“This is a flower shop, not a bar, asshole,” you mumble, and when you return back to the counter, Mikan chooses that exact same moment to pop her head out—mewling in delight when she sees Thoma.

“Oh, Mikan, if only your owner is as kind to me as you are,” he fake-sobs, carrying your cat in his arms as she snuggles into his grasp. Damn traitor. “I promise I’ll pay you once I get this week’s payroll. But I’ll be taking my leave now because you know that being here gives me the jitters.”

Right. The friend that got challenged into a duel by the Arataki Gang? That was Thoma.

Once he steps out of the shop, you sink into your little swiveling chair behind the counter—head tilted listlessly towards the ceiling. The greens growing on your plant hangers are looking a little dull, and you wonder if you should move the rack closer to the windows. But despite your attempt at distracting yourself, the exasperation from Thoma’s inability to be honest eventually catches up to you. Mikan hops onto your lap in the next second, as if sensing your distress, and you run a hand across her orange fur with a sigh.

“When I get a boyfriend, I want him to be as straightforward as a man can get.”

“Mrow.”

“If he ever skirts around his true feelings, I’m never going to accept him.”

“Mrow.”

You let out a soft chuckle, lifting her by the waist as she flashes you a disgruntled look. But before she can let out any mewls in complaint, you pull her closer to your chest with a long breath.

“You’re the only one who gets me, Mikan. Even if you like Thoma more than me sometimes.”

“Meow.”

“...Did you just agree with me?”

“Mrow~”

Half an hour before closing time, your usual delivery boy arrives on the dot to receive the order. Kazuha greets you warmly when he walks into the shop, and of course, Mikan bounds into his arms just like she does with everyone but you, it seems.

“Someone’s looking quite chipper today,” he comments before setting your tabby back onto the floor. “Where am I delivering your package again?”

You hand Kazuha the neatly wrapped bouquet—complete with Thoma’s requested specifications—and check the virtual map of the city from your phone at the same time. “Um, the apartment complex right next to Uyuu Restaurant. I texted you the exact floor and unit.”

“Got it.”

Forgetting that you’re supposed to pay him for his services, you hobble back to the counter to retrieve enough mora to cover the delivery costs. Kazuha thanks you kindly when you hand over the payment, and he drops the money into the cute little fanny pack he wears all the time.

“The app is going to let you know once the delivery is complete as usual,” he tells you, already halfway out of the shop. “Thank you again for trusting our services.”

“I wouldn’t dream of switching couriers at all,” you chuckle.

Kazuha humors you with a soft laugh, but just when you thought he’s going to end the exchange right there—

“Oh, you best be careful, by the way.”

Your brow quirks. “Pardon?”

He sighs, casting a worried look your way. “I heard that the tensions have been a bit high between the Arataki Gang and another organization I’m not familiar with. It seems that the dispute has been stirring things up not just in Hanamizaka, but the capital as well.”

It takes you a moment to fully absorb Kazuha’s words, but when you do, your curiosity only festers. Is that why Shinobu’s boss has been on edge lately? Because of the dispute?

“You don’t need to worry about me,” you reassure him with a smile—picking Mikan off the floor as you set her down on the counter. “I live on the second floor anyways, so there’s no reason to go out unless I need to get some groceries. Or visit my parents.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to be more cautious, right?” Kazuha laughs. “Well, see you soon.”

Closing time isn’t as really as lonely as you thought it would be. Despite Mikan’s indecipherable habits, she often helps clean up because the faster you can take care of things in the shop, the faster she can eat dinner. You don’t blame her for the strange source of motivation, though. If anything, you’re feeling a bit famished yourself, too.

“Hmm… I wonder what I should cook for dinner,” you wonder aloud, resting your chin on top of your broom. “Tonkatsu sounds really neat right now, but it’s kind of a pain to make the batter and everything. Ugh…”

Eventually, you continue sweeping the floor just to get your hands moving. You make sure to check your phone every now and again for some texts from your parents, as well. They did like asking if you’ve already eaten dinner at this hour. But ten minutes into your final clean-up, you notice that Mikan has gone stock-still on the counter—green eyes wide and staring out like she saw a mouse scuttling across the windowsill. You make a puzzled face before glancing over your shoulder, but the only thing that greets your sight is the early evening traffic of Hanamizaka.

“Anything the matter?” you ask, but Mikan doesn’t even mewl in response. Your usually hyperactive tabby is just transfixed on the bustling nightlife in a way you haven’t seen before. But you read somewhere that animals often have bouts of odd silence every now and again, so you decide to brush it off.

Just when you're climbing up the stairwell that leads to your actual apartment, Mikan doesn't follow you even if you’re about to switch off the lights. She remains seated on the counter, tail swaying rhythmically like she’s waiting for something to happen.

“Mikan, come on.” You cross your arms. “Don’t you want dinner?”

What is up with this cat today?

However, the next second, an ear-splitting roar shatters the silence of the evening—cleaving through you like an axe through sturdy bark. The sound rattles you enough that you nearly fall off the stairwell, but when you spot a speck of blinding light in the distance, speeding closer and closer in a way that seems like they have no intention of stopping—

“Mikan!”

You know very well that cats have the most graceful reflexes out there; that Mikan can jump out of the way of imminent danger the moment it strikes. But she’s been by your side for a good few years now, so you guess it’s natural for you to develop a strange maternal instinct, of sorts.

Without putting another thought into it, you sprint off the stairwell and leap in front of the counter. An unknown vehicle smashes through the windows a split second later—sending shrapnels of glass flying everywhere. The screech of an engine makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you squeeze your eyes shut, shielding Mikan as you turn your back towards the commotion. In the back of your mind, it clicks to you that whatever dickhead ran their ride into your shop, they probably ended up destroying the Sumerian dracaenas you put up on display. But you’ll give them an earful for that later.

You only realize your heart is threatening to break out of your ribcage once Mikan starts mewling in your arms—pawing at your shirt. A shuddering sigh flees your lips as you hug her closer to your chest.

“Thank gods you’re alright,” you murmur, patting down her fur.

But the next thing you take notice of is the feel of the warm, evening breeze drifting into the shop. When you turn around to survey the situation, you take note of several things at once: the gaping hole in your shop, the passers-by stopping to take a look, the huge, extensively modified motorcycle lying on its side next to a ruined shelf, and—

“Shit.” You immediately let Mikan hop out of your arms as you shakily stand up—mortified at the crimson liquid pooling beneath the head of an unfamiliar man. Under the fluorescent lighting of your shop, you can safely assume that this is definitely blood.

For a moment, you panic—unsure of the protocol for when a reckless driver crashes his bike into your shop. You can’t exactly yell at him for doing that, since he was obviously out cold. So, the next thing you try to take into account is the state of his motorcycle.

It’s one of those variants with lowered seats and longer handles. The kind that you imagine the local thugs use to show off in groups. And just beneath the single, jewel-encrusted headlight is a golden sigil that slightly resembles a…dragon? A demon? You’re not entirely sure, but you’ve watched enough action movies with Thoma back in the day to know that you should switch off the engine to avoid further casualties.

As you step over the large man lying unconscious on the floor of your shop, you twist the key in the ignition slot, taking it out with a bated breath. You notice that it’s attached to a crocheted plush of a tanuki, and that makes you stare at the man in disbelief.

This time, you’re able to get a better look at him.

It occurs to you a bit too late that the huge motorcycle is just appropriate for a guy that’s both ridiculously tall and has the broadest shoulder-span you’ve ever seen. His shaggy, ivory hair is sprawled all over the place, and some of it’s getting dyed in the bright red of his own blood. Grotesque details aside, he’s wearing nothing but a purple patterned haori— giving you an eyeful of the strange red tattoos inked into his impressive chest. But you have enough decency not to ogle someone who’s passed out, so once you pocketed his keys, you crouch down to lightly pat his face.

“Sir?” you call out. “Are you conscious? I’m going to call an ambulance, okay?”

That seems to make him stir.

He opens his eyes—squinting at the bright lights of the shop. From the way his blood red irises keep drifting in and out of focus, you assume that he definitely has a concussion. But before you can even get up to look for your phone, the reckless driver tugs you back down by the wrist. You cry out in surprise but you’re reflexive enough to plant your palms on the ground before you fall into the man’s chest.

Your breath hitches when you find yourself staring deep into the red of his eyes, and you can’t even flinch away when he raises a large, calloused hand to cup the side of your face.

“You’re so pretty.”

And that's the last thing he says before slumping back to the floor.

You don’t really remember the last time you stepped inside Inazuma General Hospital, but each one only left a bitter taste in your mouth. Today’s visit to the emergency room is no different.

You fidget with your phone—chewing the inside of your cheek as you try not to let the scent of disinfectant get to your nerves. There aren’t a lot of people inside the waiting lounge with you, and you aren’t really in the mood to strike up conversation with anyone at the moment. So it’s just you and the messy haywire of thoughts currently fogging up your brain. You can’t even bring yourself to give Kazuha’s usual 5-star rating once he completed your delivery earlier because you feel that antsy.

To be fair, you’re not really bothered by the prospect of bringing an injured man to receive the medical care he direly needs. Even if he destroyed plants and display cases worth over a hundred thousand mora, you’re not so heartless that you’ll leave him to bleed to death in your shop out of spite. You even left Mikan and your shop in the care of your next-door neighbor out of the urgency to bring that guy to the hospital.

But the thing that’s unnerving you the most right now is…the man’s identity.

On the ambulance ride here, the paramedics managed to procure some ID from a wallet he kept in the trunk of the motorcycle. Lo and behold, you’re finally given a name to the careless prick who gave you a hassle and a half as a present for your first meeting.

Arataki Itto.

You tried not to jump to conclusions at first (maybe this is a different Arataki). But the paramedics seemed familiar enough with the guy that when they loaded him inside the ambulance, you could tell that this might not be the first time they brought this specific person to the hospital under the same degree of injury.

The sound of your name being called from the entrance snaps you out of your musing.

“It’s good that you brought him in as soon as you could,” says one of the doctors that oversaw Arataki’s first aid and treatment. “He seems to have suffered blunt head trauma, and I’m assuming it occurred before Arataki-san crashed into your shop. Is that right? The nurses get the stories mixed up sometimes.”

Blunt head trauma? So he ran your shop over because he was already injured beforehand?

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “Um, is he going to be okay?”

He nods. “We’ve administered the medication he requires right now, and he should be out cold for the next few hours. I also had the folks from the front desk reach out to his emergency contact. You’ve done enough, so we’ll be taking Arataki-san’s situation out of your hands now.”

Unable to contain your own curiosity, you decide to ask, “...Does this happen often? You guys seem awfully relaxed about having to deal with a gangster.”

“Oh, once you’ve spent enough time tending to those boys, you’ll come to realize they aren’t as bad as people make them out to be,” the doctor laughs as he goes over the clipboard in his hands. You wonder if he’s talking about the rest of the Arataki Gang. “Arataki-san frequents this hospital a lot—not as a patient, but as a companion. When one of his gang members gets into a violent squabble, he patiently sits in this same waiting room until they’re all patched up.”

The information makes your lips part in equal parts disbelief and admiration. You never would’ve imagined a big, hulking man like him showing an ounce of compassion for the men he’s in charge of. But when you recall how gently he caressed your face earlier—red eyes shining with honest sincerity as he says, You’re so pretty—

“Shinya-sensei,” a nurse calls out from the hall, effectively yanking you back to reality. “Kuki-san just arrived. She wishes to talk to the one who brought Arataki-san in.”

Oh, right. It would make sense for Shinobu to be Arataki’s emergency contact. When Doctor Shinya glances at you for your confirmation, you nod at him and follow the nurse out of the room.

You find Shinobu with a chair pulled up next to an unconscious Arataki’s bed in the emergency wards—staring resentfully into space until she catches wind of your arrival. Her eyes widen with disbelief as she gets back to her feet.

“It’s you,” Shinobu murmurs before groaning into her hands. “Why did it have to be you…?”

You feel a prick of offense at that. “I’m sorry?”

She sighs, and you realize that Shinobu’s backpack is lying at the foot of her chair. Did she rush from school to the hospital immediately after hearing the news?

“No, no. I’m grateful that you brought in our boss,” she explains, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just that… Gods, Master is going to kill us.”

“Master?”

“It’s nothing!” Shinobu insists, and you startle a little because she’s always been a bit soft-spoken. Right now, she’s the epitome of a stressed college student that has more pressing problems outside of her bachelor’s degree. “Forgive me, my thoughts are just…all over the place. I was consulting some revisions for my thesis when I got the call and—ugh! Why does Itto have to go overboard every. Single. Time?!”

You can see the nurse that came with you scuttling out of the scene when Shinobu starts to complain aloud, and you understand the sentiment. You aren’t sure what to make of the outburst she’s laying off on you at the moment, but you decide not to comment on it. Being a college senior and the deputy for a gang are two very different things. It’s amazing that Shinobu can even handle them both at the same time.

“Hey,” you call out, rubbing a hand on her shoulder. “If you need to sort out your stuff with that thesis of yours, I could always just watch over him for the night.”

Shinobu’s face falls. “What? But your shop got trashed by this guy, right? The nurse told me so.”

“Well, yeah, but Shinobu, you look like you’re about to short-circuit any second,” you point out. “I had my neighbor watch over the shop and my cat earlier, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Even though someone could rob the cash register and I might end up bankrupt.”

You punctuate the words with an uneasy laugh that makes you realize that you really did just leave your incredibly vulnerable shop in the hands of a neighbor that you haven’t known all that long. Shinobu is quick to pick up on your split-second epiphany though, and fishes out her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll have some of the boys watch over your place in the meantime,” she sighs, tapping away at the screen. “If someone tries to rob you, they’ll have to answer to the Arataki Gang— What’s so funny?”

You hide your soft chuckles with the back of your hand. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re so quick to do a complete one-eighty degrees. Earlier you’re a lamenting college senior and now you’re back to deputy-of-the-Arataki-Gang mode.”

“It’s important to keep these aspects of my life separate from the other,” Shinobu sighs before bowing in front of you. This shocks you a little, because no one in modern day Inazuma still does that right? “I’m terribly sorry for the inconveniences our boss has caused, and for calling in a favor from you at such short notice. Rest assured, the Arataki Gang will make up for it however we can.”

“Uh…” you draw out dryly, unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. “It’s really not an inconvenience, Shinobu. I’ll be more worried about you if you end up missing deadlines because you had to look after your boss.”

Shinobu rises back to her full height, tears glistening in her eyes. Um…

“Thank you so much,” she nearly sobs, throwing her arms around you in a hug. “I promise I’ll rush back here first thing tomorrow and discuss the reparations with you and our idiot boss.”

You relax into her arms, patting her head affectionately. “Take your time. I won’t go anywhere.”

When Shinobu takes her tearful leave, you end up staring at your impromptu patient with a desolate sigh. True to Doctor Shinya’s words, Arataki is out cold—the only indication that he’s alive being the steady rise and fall of his broad chest. They managed to change him into a loose hospital gown, but you can still see the heavy outline of his tattoos under the thin fabric.

You decide to take a seat in the same chair Shinobu was just having a midlife crisis in earlier, checking your back pocket for your wallet. Thankfully, it was still there, and you can at least afford to buy yourself some convenience store sandwiches and a coffee. Archons know you can’t exactly stomach a full meal after everything that transpired tonight. But you decide to linger for a while longer before heading out to grab something to eat.

The circumference of Arataki’s head is wrapped in a sterile white gauze that makes his hair look more cream-colored than ivory, and you notice that his arm is hooked up to an IV at the other side of his bed. Your forehead creases with how hard you’re thinking about what must’ve happened for him to end up in this state. If Kazuha’s earlier warnings had any real weight to them, you’re willing to wager that it has something to do with his gang’s current disputes. But Doctor Shinya also mentioned that Arataki rarely comes into the hospital as a patient, so why…?

Your phone buzzes in your lap, startling you out of your reverie.

Thoma [21:15]: Got the flowers! Heading over to Ayaka’s rn

You roll your eyes, the dread from your earlier musing immediately dissipating from a single text from Thoma.

Me [21:15]: Confess or ten years bad luck.

Thoma [21:16]:

Me [21:18]: I’m not even trying to make you reblog shit! Just confess!!!!!!!

Thoma [21:19]: Maybe next time 😌

“Ow, fuck.”

Once again, you jolt in surprise when another distraction greets your vision in the form of a very conscious Arataki trying to pull the needle out of his arm. Your eyes widen and you immediately shoot back to your feet, pinning his meaty arms to his sides with your hands. You try not to pay attrention to how the girth of his muscle dwarves your fingers. When the hell did he even wake up?!

“Hm?” Arataki stares at you, just as baffled. “As much as I like a lady that can hold me down, I gotta get outta here, nee-chan. Can’t you help me out or something?”

“Shinobu asked me to watch over you for the night,” you tell him through gritted teeth—not liking how he’s not even struggling to shake off your grip. “So please don’t cause her any more trouble than you already have. Just stay here and let yourself recover like a good little gang boss.”

Arataki’s eyes widen slightly. “Whoa, I’m totally not discovering inappropriate things about myself in the most inappropriate times.”

“Just go back to sleep!” you groan. “If you rip out that IV, I’m calling the nurses.”

“Jeez, alright, alright,” he surrenders, even making a show of lying back down on his pillows. “Who are you anyway? The last time I had a lady fuss over me this much was when I…”

You don’t know why, but the fact that he just forgot who you are kind of stings a little. The realization makes you want to slap yourself. This is the man who ran his bike into your shop. He deserves no form of sulking on your end! Who cares if he forgot that he called you pretty in a post-concussion delirium?!

“Whatever,” you tell him, bringing your hands back to your sides with a huff. “I’m going to grab something to eat. You better not pull an escape act while I’m gone.”

“Nee-chan, the more you discourage me, the more I’m inclined to do it,” Arataki points out as he rests his chin on his free hand. You then notice that he painted his nails stark black. “But fine. Can you bring me some yakisoba bread when you come back though? Oh, and a Pocari, too? Hospital food tastes like ass.”

You gape at him. Is he serious? Is he really this shameless?

“Whatever!” you repeat more firmly before stepping out of the ward—not caring how many times Arataki calls out for you.

It wasn’t obvious at the time, but if you intended to lead a quiet, independent life, the last thing you should’ve done is to get involved with the Oni King of Hanamizaka.

★ UPDATE SCHED; every thurs & sat (12 nn gmt+8)

#genshin impact #genshin #arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto fluff #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #arataki itto genshin #cryoculus #reparations

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