#they dropped let it shine in japan a couple months ago and it sounds really good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dweetwise · 3 years

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some fluffy adamkate for @neilusgrey because this ship is adorable <3 i used some prompts from this post while writing. it fit them too well!

word count: 3320

Adam X Kate: Turn your face to the sun

“So? What do you think?” Kate asked.

Adam looked around their surroundings. They were attending a folk concert held in Kate’s hometown, and even though it wasn’t Adam’s usual scene, he’d been quick to accept when Kate had invited him.

The sun was shining bright in the sky and nearly everyone was smiling, the sound of music getting louder but nowhere near unbearable as they approached the small stage in the middle of the park. There weren’t as many people as Adam had feared, only a small crowd forming in front of the stage.

“It looks nice,” Adam said. “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

“Of course!” Kate said. “It’s about time we—”

“Kate! Over here!” someone shouted from behind them, effectively interrupting their conversation.

Adam watched as Kate turned around to face a group of people, her face cracking into a brilliant smile once she seemed to recognize them.

“Hey, y’all!” Kate beamed, hugging one of the women. “Long time, no see.”

It was strange to see Kate so in her element. Just walking across the park and to the event area, they’d been stopped several times as people wanted to catch up with Kate and a few even asked for her autograph.

“It’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” one of Kate’s current admirers asked.

“Oh, I did a bit of soul-searching,” Kate explained. “Kinda needed to drop off the grid for a while.”

Adam could tell Kate was struggling with the lie. It had been a couple months since their escape from the Entity and they were only just now getting used to the normalcy of the real world. Standing here, being alive and well and surrounded by happy people with the sun shining down on them was almost too good to be true.

“This is my date, Adam!” Kate introduced him.

But the best thing about the situation was that Adam was here with the most incredible woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, giving a polite nod to the group.

“Likewise!” one of Kate’s friends said. “We’ll leave you to it, but let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

“That sounds lovely!” Kate agreed, before turning to Adam. “Come on, let’s find a good spot!”

Adam followed Kate closer to the stage, almost transfixed on the way her long dress swayed in the gentle breeze. With her flowy sundress and the daisies in her hair, Kate looked like a personification of summer, and Adam was honored to be allowed to bask in her warmth.

It also reminded Adam how overdressed he was for the occasion. He’d chosen to wear a suffocating button-up and stiff chinos that already felt too warm for the weather. Hopefully he’d manage a few hours in the Pennsylvanian summer.

“You wanna stay farther away from the stage?” Kate asked.

“Yes, please,” Adam said with a grateful smile.

Kate knew how much of an introvert he was and she had never appeared to see it as a big deal. The concert was already out of Adam’s comfort zone, so getting some relative privacy would be very welcome.

They found a spot away from the commotion but with a relatively unobstructed view of the stage and Adam pulled out the picnic blanket he’d packed earlier and spread it over the soft grass. All the while Kate kept looking at him in intrigue, making Adam wonder whether he’d done something wrong.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You have a really good smile, you know that?” Kate said, making Adam realize he’d been smiling the entire time.

“Oh. Thank you,” Adam said, scratching at his neck self-consciously. “I guess I don’t tend to smile that much. Especially after…”

He didn’t need to explain further. Kate nodded in understanding, knowing they all had their own demons to battle after their capture and subsequent escape from the creature that still haunted their nightmares.

“Let’s make some better memories together,” Kate said with an adorable, soft smile.

Adam felt his face heat up and he merely offered a stiff “yes” as they started unpacking their bags.

They’d never officially decided what this was between them. For what felt like years, they’d been closer than friends but not quite lovers. None of the other survivors had batted an eye when Kate sought comfort in Adam’s arms by the campfire every time the trials became too much. There were jokes about them being a couple, sure, but to this day nothing had actually happened between them. Adam had never wanted to push and regardless, a world of violence and death wasn’t exactly the best setting for romance.

But now they were free and Kate had wasted no time in asking him on a date. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he was certain that it had to mean something.

“I brought snacks!” Kate's triumphant grin snapped Adam out of his thoughts.

Adam watched as she retrieved a small box of strawberries as well as a packet of cookies from her beach bag.

“I wanted to have a picnic but didn’t know what you liked, so…” Kate explained.

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Adam said. “I didn’t realize to bring anything…”

“And I didn’t expect you to!” Kate reassured. “Come on, have some!”

They sat down to enjoy the snacks together, catching up on the brief period of time they’d been apart. Adam had been busy with a pile of paperwork about his disappearance in Japan and Kate had temporarily moved in with her parents. It became clear that neither of them were certain what the future would bring.

“There’s so many opportunities!” Kate said. “We can do whatever we want. The freedom is amazing.”

“It is,” Adam agreed. “But also a little overwhelming.”

He had no idea what he would do or where he would even go. All he knew was that he wanted to be near Kate; she was his rock and no matter what happened, he was sure he’d be okay as long as they were together.

Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. They weren’t a couple and it was a little too intense to place so much importance on their friendship.

“We’ll figure something out,” Kate said, and just her smile was almost enough to reassure Adam.

They sat together and finished the snacks while enjoying the music, until the crowd seemed to get even more invigorated as people got up to dance. Adam watched a small group form in front of the stage with people twirling, jumping and laughing as they danced to the upbeat music.

"Let's join them!" Kate suggested almost immediately.

Adam shouldn’t have been surprised. Kate’s love for music knew no bounds, and even now she was nearly shaking with the boundless energy she always seemed to possess.

"We can't just leave our things," Adam tried to reason. "You go on, I'll stay here."

"Aw, you can’t get rid of me that easily! I wanna dance with you!” Kate said. “Nobody's gonna take anything.”

"I'm not much of a dancer," Adam protested, abruptly feeling the nervousness start to kick in.

"You'll be fine, hun—I promise!" Kate smiled at him and extended her bracelet-clad hand.

Before the fog had swallowed him all those years ago, Adam would have declined in a heartbeat. But he wanted to believe he had changed. During the last few years, he’d learned he was much more capable than he could have ever imagined—a little dancing surely wouldn’t kill him.

So he grabbed Kate’s hand and let himself be briefly pulled into her world of sunshine and spontaneity.

While they approached the stage, Adam tried his best to learn the choreography by observing people dancing. To his mortification, there didn’t seem to be choreography, all of the dancers seemingly able to effortlessly improvise a professional-looking routine.

By the time they reached their destination, Adam’s hand was sweating where it was holding Kate’s. She didn’t seem to care, only turning to him with a bright smile before settling closer to him in a dance position.

"Don't worry hun, just follow my lead!" Kate said.

Kate started leading him into a dance and Adam followed the best he could. He stared at her feet to try to get the hang of her movements, focusing too hard and completely ignoring the beat—

It was only a matter of time before his foot landed on Kate’s much smaller sandal-covered one.

"Sorry!" Adam apologized, embarrassed over his mistake. “Did I hurt you?”

"Don't worry so much," Kate said. "Look at me and just go with the flow."

Adam lifted his gaze to Kate's face and some of his tension melted away under her familiar smile.

Gradually, he got the hang of it. The song changed but the rhythm of Kate's movements stayed the same, and eventually Adam's clumsy steps got more confident and mirrored the spring in Kate's. He learned to read her ques, changing directions when she did and twirling her around when she wanted to. Kate laughed and giggled while they danced, the smile never leaving her face, like this is what she was made to do.

Adam realized she might not have gotten the chance to dance with anyone before this, not since their escape. Kate was never meant for the dull grey world of the Entity; she was meant for this, sun and music and dancing without a care in the world. And Adam was honored to be able to give it to her.

He lost count of how many songs they danced to. Previously, he might have been embarrassed of letting Kate lead, but any worries about arbitrary gender roles had disappeared during the years where their lives were nothing but survival.

Worrying about the past was the last thing on Adam’s mind as he followed his ray of sunshine into another dance. He was sweating something fierce but he didn't care, absently popping a few buttons on his shirt and rolling up the sleeves to try to cool down. Kate seemingly didn’t tire of dancing, but Adam spotted the redness on her cheeks and the more pronounced breaths she took as they picked up the pace and the exertion started to kick in.

At some point, people started forming a ring in some sort of group dance, and Kate didn’t hesitate to guide them to join in. The choreography was easy to understand this time, Adam effortlessly keeping up as everyone danced in a ring, before partnering up and switching every so often. Even though he stumbled a few times, Adam had always prided himself on being a fast learner.

When Kate twirled herself into being his partner for the finale, Adam found himself laughing. He was having fun.

"See? I knew you'd like it!" Kate said.

“Only you could convince me to do something like this,” Adam said.

Kate laughed with him, the sound radiant and inviting. She was beautiful and so full of light, turning heads even on the makeshift dance floor. He didn’t think he’d ever quite understand what she saw in a nerd like him.

Once the song ended, Kate let out a sigh.

"Whew, I'm beat!" she said.

Adam couldn't agree more. No matter how much he enjoyed the dancing, he was starting to get winded and his shirt was now drenched in sweat.

"Let's go drink some water," Adam suggested.

They returned to their spot and, to Adam's surprise, everything seemed to be exactly the way they left it. He'd completely forgotten about his worries while they danced.

Adam got out his water bottle from his backpack, when Kate's voice interrupted him.

"Aww, no!" Kate said, clearly disappointed when she peered into her bag.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I didn't close my bottle properly," Kate said, pulling out her wet, empty water bottle. "It's leaked all over."

She showed her bag that contained some now-soaked cookie crumbs and her keys bathing in water.

"I'm so sorry," Adam said. "We should hang it to dry somewhere—"

"It's not a big deal," Kate said with a smile. "It's just gonna smell like soggy cookies for a bit. That's what I get for being a klutz."

Adam's full water bottle felt heavy in his hands.

"Here, have some of mine," he said, extending the item.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked.

"Absolutely," Adam said. "We need to stay hydrated in this weather."

"You're the sweetest," Kate said and Adam felt his face heat up from the compliment.

Kate accepted the bottle, and only took one prim, small sip before holding it out for him.

"Come on, take a proper drink," Adam encouraged. "We’ll split it in half."

Kate gave him a sheepish smile, before tipping her head back and taking big gulps of the beverage, drinking nearly half of the bottle.

"Whew, that was refreshing," Kate said with a happy sigh. "Thanks, doll."

"My pleasure," Adam said.

He followed Kate's lead and emptied the bottle with similar gusto. The water felt heavenly in his dry throat and overheated body.

Afterwards, Adam insisted on setting up Kate's bag to dry in the sun.

"It should dry in no time," Adam said. "It's really hot today. I wish I was dressed for the weather."

"But you look so snazzy," Kate smiled. "Feels like I'm with royalty."

"I don't know about that. You look incredible today. I mean—err, you always do, but..." Adam floundered. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate said with a shy smile, doing a little twirl. "It's good for dancing."

"I still can't believe you got me to dance," Adam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Admit it. You had fun back there!” Kate was positively beaming at him.

"I did," Adam admitted. "And I never would have tried it on my own. Thank you."

"Thank you for doing it for me," Kate said. “I know this ain’t your thing, and I didn’t wanna push too hard. But I knew you’d be great, and…”

Kate trailed off, and Adam followed her gaze to an ice cream booth at the foot of the hill.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" Adam asked.

"I was just about to ask!" Kate grinned.

They walked to the kiosk, only standing in a short line as most people were still busy dancing. Adam took some time to browse the list of available flavors while they waited.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Adam asked.

"Not yet—there's so many to choose from!" Kate said, almost as in awe.

Adam hummed in agreement and focused back on the list. He was a little disappointed to not find matcha flavor on the menu, as it was his favorite from his time in Japan. Most of the options looked sickly sweet, and Adam skimmed over the cookie and candy flavors until eventually settling onto pistachio.

He glanced over at Kate who was still staring at the menu. If Adam had to guess, she was choosing between some of the more strange flavors—maybe even thinking about mixing them into a daring combination.

"Okay, I'm done!" Kate said once it was their turn to order. "You go first."

"One pistachio, please," Adam said.

"And for the lady?" the vendor asked.

"Chocolate," Kate said.

Adam turned to look at Kate in surprise.

"I ain't that adventurous with food," Kate explained with a sheepish grin.

After Kate's usual spontaneity and boldness, it was incredibly endearing to find out that she was a picky eater. Adam was suddenly eager for an opportunity to introduce her to Japanese and Jamaican flavors in the future.

"You can't go wrong with the classics," Adam assured.

"Here you go," the vendor said, handing over their orders. "That’s $3 a piece."

Kate started fishing out her wallet, but Adam beat her to it.

"It's on me," Adam said, already paying for their orders. “I owe you for the snacks.”

"Well, ain't you a gentleman," Kate said with a mischievous smirk.

Rather than stay closer to the stage, they returned to their spot to enjoy their ice creams.

"How is it?" Adam asked.

"Love it!" Kate beamed. "Do you wanna try?"

Butterflies danced in Adam's gut when Kate extended the treat to him. He nodded and carefully took a bite out of the ice cream. The chocolate flavor was not as rich as he'd normally like, but the texture was creamy and it didn’t taste too sweet.

"It's really good," Adam said. "Do you want to try mine?"

Kate regarded his green ice cream skeptically.

"Sure!" she eventually decided.

Kate hesitantly tasted the ice cream with the very tip of her tongue, before her face twisted into a grimace and Adam found himself laughing.

"Not for you, huh?" he teased.

"No, sorry, it's…" Kate said. "It tastes weird. Why is it salty?"

"Different strokes, I suppose," Adam smiled, digging back into his strange-tasting dessert.

They ate in companionable silence, watching the music performance and the people dancing to it.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Kate broke the silence.

"Thank you for inviting me," Adam said. "It's not my usual type of event, so I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself."

"What are you talking about? If anything, you're too cool for a place like this," Kate said.

"That's definitely not true," Adam protested. "I am not ‘cool’ in the slightest."

"Yeah you are," Kate insisted with a smile. "You're always so calm and polite and know exactly what to do. It feels like I'm just a dumb country girl in the presence of a prince or something."

Adam couldn't believe his ears. All this time, he’d thought Kate was too good for him, and she’d felt the exact same way about him?

"You are anything but dumb, Kate," Adam said. "To be honest, your charisma and talent sometimes overwhelms me. I often wonder what you see in me."

Kate laughed; not a mocking one, but a laugh that told Adam he was being absurd.

"Guess we're both kinda dumb, then," Kate smiled.

Adam returned the smile, feeling immense relief. He now knew that—for some crazy reason—Kate was just as fond of him as he was of her. Neither of them broke eye contact, and for a while they merely looked into each other’s eyes while their ice creams slowly melted.

"Can I kiss you?" Adam found himself asking.

It was barely above a whisper, finally having the courage to ask the words he hadn’t been able to during all these years.

"Thought you'd never ask," Kate said just as softly.

They both leaned into the kiss, and feelings of affection for this woman bloomed in Adam's chest when their lips met. Kate's lips were chilly from the ice cream but there was an underlying warmth in them that spread through Adam's body, like he was basking in the glow of the sun.

Their lips moved slowly against each other’s, hesitant at first and then finding a shared rhythm; just like when they danced together earlier.

When they pulled away, Adam was breathless, but it wasn’t not from a lack of air; it was from everything that was Kate.

"Hmm," Kate said conversationally.

"Hmm?” Adam repeated.

"Guess I don't mind pistachio flavor when it's mixed with Adam flavor," Kate smirked.

Adam threw his head back and laughed, and Kate did too.

They finished their half-melted ice creams while listening to the last songs of the concert. They talked about anything and everything, Adam no longer feeling like he had to hold back or keep up appearances. He placed his hand on Kate's and Kate insisted on trying some more ice cream from his lips.

It was the best date of Adam's life and he couldn't wait to see what their future might bring, knowing that Kate would be right by his side.

#adam francis #kate denson #adamkate #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight

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katrinawritesthings · 3 years

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jonghyun / taemin; runaway; PG

close your thoughts and open your heart // hey love let's run away or you know that part in runaway after the bridge where jonghyun starts hitting in with the ad libs. I felt that in my heart @rollercoasterwrite hi again : )

After a while, a bouncy song worms its way into his head, has his heel tapping on the wooden slat of the train tracks. Taemin is holding his wrist in one hand, poking and pinching at the veins in his hand with the other. Jonghyun twists his hand so he can hold Taemin's instead, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Sometimes I really want to,” he mumbles. He tilts his head away, but only until Jonghyun’s head falls to rest on his shoulder. Then he rests his head back on top of Jonghyun. “Just…” he says. “Pack some shit and... leave.”

Crickets chirp at Jonghyun’s feet as he walks along the dirt side of the road. The sidewalk dropped off about a block ago as he got towards the back of the neighborhood, where all of the big older houses are, the ones that are framed on this corner by the train tracks ahead of him and the creek to his left across the street.

He can hear the creek now, barely; it's summer so it's pretty low, but there's still a very faint trickle of water running through the rocks at the very bottom. He follows it, hands in his jeans pockets, leather jacket over his shoulders, collar popped for style and gay, and alternates between watching where his feet are going in the darkness and gazing up at the starry sky through the trees grown tall and wide by the house on his right.

Soon he comes to the end of the houses, the corner of this block, and faces the train tracks just on the other side of the road. He turns right and starts making his way that way, walking with the tracks to his left now, and keeps going until he hops back up onto the sidewalk in front of the blue apartments that line the road here. There he counts doors, passes one, two, three, four, Taemin’s, comes to a stop, turns left.

There, across the street, sitting lazily on the metal rail of the train tracks, softly illuminated by a street lamp a couple of yards away, Taemin lifts a hand and waves at him.

Jonghyun smiles even though he knows it's too dark for Taemin to see and waves back. He knew he would find Taemin here tonight. Taemin is always out here when he starts posting his emo lonely shit on his blog at 2 in the morning. Looking both ways, hopping off of the sidewalk yet again, Jonghyun jogs across the street and joins Taemin, sitting on the rail opposite him with their feet purposefully close together so that when he gets bored of sitting still they can play footy.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Taemin says back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmh. Buh. You?”

“Yeah. Same.”

“Nice.” Taemin reaches one hand out over the tracks and Jonghyun takes it, a handhold of solidarity over their shitty mental health. They grin at each other in the lamp light, Jonghyun taking in Taemin’s tired eyes and mussed dirty blond hair under his hood and blotchy skin, knowing that Taemin is looking him over as well.

A moment passes like that, and then another where Jonghyun appreciates that moment, appreciates Taemin, appreciates the gay little nut that he always harbors inside of himself for his friend. Then, before he even gets bored of sitting still, he gets bored of not sitting next to Taemin.

So he stands up, just for a second, and moves to sit on the opposite train track, next to Taemin so their sides are pressed together. Swinging his arm around Taemin’s shoulders with enough force that they sway backward and forward a little bit, he smirks when Taemin rolls his eyes at him and leans their heads together. This is good.

“How's work?” Taemin asks him then.

“Oh, awful,” Jonghyun says cheerfully. Taemin snorts, but not in a surprised way; Jonghyun knows that he already knew what the answer was before he asked. He elaborates more anyway: “Hours suck, mr. manager can't decide whether or not he wants to give me none or all of them,” he says, lifting one finger on the hand around Taemin’s shoulders. “Ever since summer started we get way less cool broke college kids and way more entitled Karens, management spent a whole month hyping up a super big raise that turned out to be a whole $0.50, one of the other stockers quit and I got stuck with training the new kid, except the new kid is just the managers son and he refuses to learn how to do jack shit because he knows he won't get fired, and Sekyung transferred to a different store last week before I could even get up the courage to tell her I liked her.”

“Oh, dude,” Taemin says, a disappointed sigh accompanying his words. He turns to Jonghyun with a look that's half exasperated, half sympathetic. “I told you to get on that before you lost your chance.”

“I know,” Jonghyun whines. He knows. Everyone has been telling him to confess to her for like 5 months. “I'm shy around femmes,” he pouts, turning to smush his face into Taemin’s shoulder. They make him all flustered and shaky. It's always been so much easier for him to flirt with everyone else. Taemin’s hand comes up to ruffle through his hair sympathetically, which Jonghyun appreciates.

“How’s school?” he asks into Taemin’s hoodie. He knows the answer to this just like Taemin did when he asked his question, and just like he expected, Taemin groans rough in the back of his throat.

“It sucks,” Taemin says, probably too loudly for how close they are to a line of apartments at 3 in the morning. “It sucks and I hate it. I have too many classes because I need to take so many classes and fucking rich boy mc asshole that always sits next to me in bio always goes," Why don't you just take fewer classes and stay for more years?" and it's like, because I'm not fucking made out of money, asshole, and also, I don't even know why the fuck I'm taking bio, I don't know why I'm majoring in biochem, I hate it, I still can't believe I let my parents bully me into it, and I can't even join the dance club because the fucking dance club got cancelled somehow, and it's like, how the fuck do you--? It’s just a dance club? It's like one of the least problematic clubs in the school? How does that even happen? And all my teachers talk so much big shit about how woke and accommodating they are but they never even let me have one extension on anything, and--”

He stops talking in favor of just curling up his knees and pushing his forehead into them, and then tapping his forehead on them, harder and harder, almost to an alarming intensity. Almost because Jonghyun, knowing to expect it, quickly curls his arm even further around his shoulders and lifts his other arm to push on his chest, keeping him away.

“Hey! Hey... Hey,” he says quietly, close to Taemin’s ear. He drops a tiny little smooch to his temple as well, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Be gentle with yourself,” he chides. He can't keep banging himself up every time he gets all worked up because of all of everyone else's bullshit. Taemin sighs through his nose, whole body sagging into Jonghyun’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He sounds a mix of tired of how often Jonghyun says that to him and tired of how often he needs to be told that. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Jonghyun hums back and then lets it be quiet between them for a little bit. That's what always helps Taemin. Just sitting with someone that supports him and thinking through his brain stuff on his own. Jonghyun likes the comfort of quiet snuggling as well. He didn't walk four blocks in the middle of the night just because he was worried about his friend getting lost on the train tracks 10 yards in front of his own apartment. He was feeling emo and lonely and couldn't sleep, too. And Taemin has to know that, because he shifts closer to him and takes his hand to hold in both of his, rubbing warmth into his skin.

Taemin looks into their laps, at their hands, scuffs the pebbley ground with his foot. Jonghun looks up, to the sky, at the moon and all the stars that twinkle down at him. Both of them are getting lost in the same way, lost in their thoughts, lost in their surroundings, lost in each other's comfort. It's a familiar and easy escape to settle into and Jonghyun rests their heads together gently again.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Same,” Jonghyun says. The allure of it is so strong that sometimes he only has his executive dysfunction to blame for not actually doing it.

“Yeah?” Taemin asks, turning to him with a raised eyebrow, so close that Jonghyun can see up his nose. He fights down his giggle in favor of nodding simply. Yeah. “Where would you go?” Taemin asks. Jonghyun grins. This at least is a question he can answer easily.

“Ideally?” he says, and then points a finger straight up at the stars. “Infiltrate NASA, steal a spaceship, blast off, explore the cosmos and find a universe where everything doesn't suck.” He lets his hand fall back down into Taemin’s. “Realistically?” he asks quieter, and then he shrugs. He's never really done more than daydream and he doesn't really have any actual plans. “SHINee is doing that free little concert on the beach this weekend,” he says. That would be fun to go to.

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” Taemin hisses. “I was going to say Japan, but, fuck, I love SHINee.” Jonghyun chuckles. Japan sounds fun too, but, yeah, a chill acoustic beach concert a couple of hours away sounds much more doable. “One time, in high school,” Taemin says. “When I didn't feel guilty about asking for shit like concert tickets or whatever, I went to go see them. And this was, like, before they were popular, so I got front row seats, and Taeyeon did one of her spins, you know?”

He looks at Jonghyun like he expects Jonghyun to know what he means; Jonghyun does. The kind of spins that Taeyeon does when she's dancing, where she winds herself up and then nuts herself around like a top.

“And some of her sweat dripped on me,” Taemin continues dreamily. He taps a spot high on his cheek, next to his nose. “Right here. It was so great.”

“Lucky,” Jonghyun sighs wistfully. “2 years ago I got Junghee to sign a guitar pick for me,” he says. He blushes just thinking about her crescent eye smile, her sharp teeth, her buff babely arms as she handed him back the pick. He still has it in a tiny little glass frame on his headboard. “Do you think she would sign my bass for me, if I took it to the concert?” He asks.

“Probably, if we got up close to the front,” Taemin says. Jonghyun feels his shoulder shrug under his cheek. Then he feels it shift and move more, and sits up a little bit so Taemin is free to dig in his hoodie pocket for his phone. “How far away is that concert, even?” he asks, pulling up a map app and entering in two addresses. Jonghyun snorts as the directions and distance pop up. It's even further away than he thought; about four hours drive. Taemin doesn't snort, but he does sigh in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes and stuffing his phone into his pocket again. “Fucking. Hundred fifty bucks worth of gas,” he mutters.

“I forgot how awful your car is,” Jonghyun says, the words coming out as half of a laugh. He knows he can't talk because he doesn't have a car, but Taemin’s car is a piece of shit. He loves that rusty little bug. Taemin laughs too, embarrassed, probably a little offended. Then he sighs again.

“Plus hotel costs,” he mumbles. “You know I can't drive at night. It's scary.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun says. He can't relate, but he understands. “Train tickets are only like, eight bucks each,” he says. “$30 round trip, that's not bad. Still would have to find a hotel, though.” The trains stop running too early around here.

“Does it even have to be a round trip, though?” Taemin says absently. “I thought we were running away.”

“Oh yeah,” Jonghyun says. He yawns into his popped collar, and then smiles as a wild thought appears in his brain. Leaning back on his hands so the pebbles skittered all over the ground dig into his palms, he says, “What if when we get there and I get Junghee to sign my guitar, I show her some of the songs I've written and she's so impressed she hires me to be like, her roadie slash groupie slash songwriter?”

“Dude, yeah,” Taemin grins. “and Gwiboon wouldn't be able to resist my super cute face,” he says, poking his own cheek proudly. Jonghyun snorts, giggling into his shoulder.

“Please, she has standards,” he says, elbowing Taemin in the side. Taemin just shrugs lazily.

“Not high ones, you've seen how soft she is for Taeyeon.” and Jonghyun can't argue with that, so he doesn't. He just shakes his head fondly as he thinks about his 5 favorite ladies. Looking up at the stars, he finds his favorite one and smiles at it while Taemin yawns into the back of his hand. “We could pick up jobs with them, if we tried,” he says quietly. “You know they've talked about needing more help on their tours. We could just... Go. right now. Just us two. We could do it.”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says, just as quietly. It really could happen. If they went. If they tried. He turns his head to his left to look at Taemin, to say something, but before he can, something behind Taemin catches his attention. Further down the track, way further, down on the main road, red lights blink slowly back and forth. And one big bright yellow light in the middle of the track slowly approaches. Faint dinging from the train crossing reaches his ears now as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles, and stands up. When Taemin blinks at him in question, he reaches both hands out to help him stand. “Train’s coming,” he says, nodding down the track.

“Oh,” Taemin says, looking down there himself. He pulls Jonghyun off of the track, to the little metal fence on the other side of it that separates them from the ditch between the track and the high soundproof walls that encase the fancy rich people apartments.

They hoist themselves up and sit on top of the fence, Jonghyun slipping his arm behind Taemin to hold on to the railing on his other side, keeping him safe. Together they watch the train slowly draw near, chugging it's way along steadily, thick clouds of smoke puffing from the front. It moves slowly; it's one of the usual supply trains that runs on this track, not one of the fast public transportation trains. Jonghyun watches the line of cars on the main street pile up behind it, amused.

It takes at least five minutes for the train to actually come near them, the scent of metal and grease and rust and smoke thick in the air. As it draws near, Taemin raises a hand in a lazy wave. Jonghyun smiles, then is filled with a sudden impulse.

Slowly, hesitantly, with all of the same hope in his heart that he had when he was 8 years old, he lifts his hand next to his head and pumps it up and down twice. Then he waits, other hand gripping tight to the railing in anticipation. He can't see the conductor in there; it's too dark, and the headlight makes it too bright in all of the wrong places. The train chugs ever closer, almost passing them, and Jonghyun starts to lose hope, but then--

The train whistle sounds, 2 long notes, just as the front cabin passes them.

The sound blasts through the night air, no doubt annoying everyone except Jonghyun, who does his biggest and loudest woohoo!, both hands raised high in the air, fists pumping back and forth triumphantly, and Taemin, who has one hand on the fence and one hand on Jonghyun’s thigh as he doubles over laughing.

It's exhilarating; Jonghyun feels ecstatic, rejuvenated, alive. His heart beats against his ribs, his lungs expand with huge breaths of air, his cheeks almost hurt from how wide and hard he's smiling, his body tingles, the warm summer breeze feels extra sharp against his skin. He watches the train go, gratitude and excitement in his soul, feeling so light and so bright from that small favor from a friendly stranger that he feels like he'll burst into a million elated pieces.

It's overwhelming, almost. How happy he is right now, in this isolated moment, how intense the emotion is. He never gets emotions this intense anymore. He loves it, loves feeling so much so suddenly, so hard, so positive. It fills him up all the way, starts in his chest and expands to every single part of his body, and Taemin’s continued laughter next to him only makes him feel better.

He turns around, takes in Taemin’s wide open mouth and round red cheeks and scrunched up eyes and feels like with him, he could feel this happy all the time. His heart, already so full and so happy, beats even faster, feels so good, so good that he reaches up and cups Taemin’s face in both hands and presses a kiss firm to his mouth.

Taemin makes a noise into his mouth, not surprised, just a little muffled exclamation. Jonghyun keeps kissing him, shallow, simple, just to feel their mouths together, to prolong this moment of happiness, to share it with his friend. Taemin, after a moment, kisses him back, a breath of a laugh puffing over Jonghyun’s upper lip. His hands come up and cover Jonghyun’s, not to move them away, but to hold.

“Yeah?” he asks between two kisses. His voice is a little incredulous, but mostly resigned, and a little enamored. Jonghyun nods, moving their hands down together to rest gently around Taemin’s neck and angle him better into the kiss.

“Yeah,” he smiles. He loves this, loves kissing, loves kissing Taemin, loves feeling this good. He wants to feel this good all the time. He wants to be with Taemin, to go with him, run away with him, he wants to--

He pulls away for just a moment, and in that moment, looking at Taemin’s closed eyelids, his chapped skin, his softly parted lips, Jongyun’s elation fades away. Reality creeps back in, slowly, a trickle of disappointment. A thought comes to him. A real thought, not an emotion. A thought of responsibility. He sighs, sliding his arms down to hug Taemin around the arms instead, pulling him close and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“We should... Call someone to be our voice of reason and not let us run away,” he mumbles sadly. If he's feeling impulsive enough to want to kiss Taemin and be with him forever, and Taemin is feeling desperate enough to drive to the coast and never come back, then the two of them together really shouldn't be left alone. In his arms, Taemin expands and deflates in his own heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess you're right.” It's awkward when they're sitting next to each other like this on the fence, but he slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and hugs him back. “Jinki?” he asks. And despite how little and sad Jonghyun is suddenly feeling, he snorts and giggles a little bit.

“Are you kidding, his Sagittarius ass?” he asks. “He'd drive all the way over here right now and pick us up. Minho too.” he wouldn't trust either of them to stop a runaway impulse if his life depended on it, and that's him speaking as an Aries. Taemin scoffs quietly next to his ear.

“Astrology hoe,” he teases. Then, before Jonghyun can grump at him, says, “Key would murder us if we woke him up this late.” Jonghyun chuckles a little more. That also is true.

“That's the Libra in him,” he says slyly.

“Excuse me? He's a Virgo.”

“He's a cusp.”

“What the fuck is a cusp?”

“If you were an astrology hoe, you would know.”

“God. Shut up.”

Taemin shoves him away, but he's smiling when Jonghyun leans back and smirks, smiling and shaking his head. He pulls down his hood, runs his hands through his messy dirty blond bangs a few times, and pulls his hood back up. Jonghyun elbows his side gently, wiggling his eyebrows when Taemin glances at him just to make him shake his head again. Then he just grips the railing on either side of his hips, looking back up at the stars. Taemin holds onto the fence too, his right hand so close to Jonghyun’s left that their pinkies overlap, and looks down at the earth.

“I guess if we can't call anyone to stop us then we have to find some shred of responsibility between the two of us and do it ourselves,” Jonghyun says to the sky. He’s sure that between the both of them they can find one small nugget of good mental health and adult skills to keep them from making a bad decision at 3 in the morning. Jonghyun rolls his head to the side to nudge Taemin’s shoulder. “Want to go back to my place and just sleep?” he asks. Taemin breathes out a laugh, feet kicking against a lower rail of the fence so Jonghyun can feel every hit of contact under his thighs.

“I don't want to fucking.” he lifts one hand to rub over his face tiredly, smile still wide behind it, then gestures it vaguely over the neighborhood. “Walk, like, over a mile in the dark, that's so much work,” he says. He nudges Jonghyun back. “You just come sleep with me in my place.” he nods his head forward, over the track, across the street, at his apartment door. Jonghyun raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“I thought I wasn't allowed in your house?” he says. “Because your parents hate me, because I'm a bad influence and I turned you gay and I filled your head with awful horrible thoughts like, free healthcare is a human right and capitalism is inherently evil and no one should have to work for a living.”

Taemin snorts into laughter, ugly adorable little giggles that crinkle his eyes, then shakes his head. Shrugging, he says, “I convinced them that it was actually college that did all of that, and you couldn't have done it because you didn't go to college, so now they just hate you because you didn't go to college.”

“Oh, well, that's so much better,” Jonghyun says sarcastically. Taemin just shrugs back again, looking completely unbothered.

“They're both asleep right now and they'll both be gone in the morning anyway,” he says. “Besides, I bought myself a lock for my door and pulled the I'm a 24 year old adult and I deserve privacy excuse for it. It'll be the easiest thing in the world to sneak you into my bed. Come on.” He hops off the fence, straightens his hoodie around his hips, and then holds out his hand.

Jonghyun looks at it, his weird little fingers, his bony wrist peeking out of the sleeve. Then he looks up at Taemin’s face. Acne on his cheeks, bags under his eyes. He feels nice in his heart, the way he did earlier, but less intense, more familiar. Taking Taemin’s hand, he resists the pull in favor of tugging Taemin close to him instead, pulling him to stand between his legs. Even from here he has to tilt his head up a little bit to look into Taemin’s eyes. He cups Taemin’s face again, rubbing his thumb over his bumpy cheek, and smiles, leaning in to softly peck his lips.

Taemin makes the same kind of not surprised but just amused noise as he did before. His hands slide up to rest on Jonghyun’s thighs. Jonghyun appreciates that Taemin lets him just do this a whole lot.

“Hey, not to be impulsive emotional gay and also genuine soft gay in the same ten minutes, but,” Jonghyun says, resting their foreheads together, letting their lips brush as he speaks. “Thanks for being my friend,” he says. Then he kisses the little humming noise that Taemin makes in response to that.

“Don't mention it,” Taemin says. “Come on.” He gets his hands around Jonghyun’s waist and tugs him off of the fence. Jonghyun pretends to stumble and leans all of his weight on Taemin, clinging to him, smiling against his ear when he staggers for real and makes a surprised, disgruntled little noise. Then, before Taemin can get mad at him, he just swings his arm around his shoulders, steadies him on his feet, and bumps him gently to start walking back to his apartment.

Taemin bumps him back even harder, but he also slips his arm around his waist, so Jonghyun doesn't mind.

Their shoes crunch over the gravel around the train tracks, clink against the metal of the rail, thud against the planks. Jonghyun tilts his head to look up at the stars, thinks that would make a good picture, pauses as that thought stirs something in his memory. Tightening his hold on Taemin so he stops too, Jonghyun puts his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone.

Opening up Instagram, he leans back and snaps a picture of the sky. Then he takes another with the moon in it, his favorite lesbian, and then he lowers his phone and takes a picture of the train tracks disappearing into the darkness. Then he flips it to the front camera and smushes his cheek against Taemin’s, smiling pretty and watching him roll his eyes on the screen.

“Why?” Taemin asks, even as he lifts a hand to mess with his bangs and make them look nicer.

“It's this thing I read online one time,” Jonghyun says, waiting for Taemin to close his eyes and smile tiredly for the camera. He takes the picture and then continues, “to help with, you know, not being so mean to myself all the time. I'm documenting all the times that I feel like it's pretty okay to be me.”

As Taemin hums quietly in approval, Jonghyun raises his phone and tilts it to give them one of those funny face selfie angles. Taemin catches on very quickly, raising both hands in little v signs and pushing up his cheeks. Jonghyun giggles, muffling them in Taemin’s shoulder, before popping back up and tilting his head and opening his eyes super wide so they look gigantic in the picture.

Once he takes it, he pulls his phone back close so he can look at all of the filters and everything. He lets Taemin pull him across the street and up onto the sidewalk as he does. He plays with it, putting filters on all of the pictures except the selfies while Taemin quietly jiggles his key into the lock and sneaks him through the apartment and to his bedroom.

When they get there, Jonghyun snorts at the fact that Taemin purchased a whole ass electronic fingerprint lock instead of a key or combination one. That must have been one hell of a conversation with his parents. Taemin opens his bedroom door and gestures Jonghyun inside with a silent flourish and a huge grin, one Jonghyun returns as he curtsies gratefully and flounces inside like a delicate princess.

Then he tosses his phone onto Taemin’s bed and shrugs out of his jacket and jeans, doing his best not to stumble around and curse when his foot gets stuck. Taemin isn't doing much better; Jonghyun hears more than sees him bang his knee on his dresser as he makes his way to the bed.

Still, they manage to fall into bed together without making too much noise, and Jonghyun gets comfortable with his right arm under Taemin’s head. He picks up his phone and goes back to his Instagram post, typing out a summary of his night so he'll be able to look back on it another time when he isn't feeling as good. Taemin grumbles at the brightness and turns his face into Jonghyun’s shoulder, pulling his blankies up high over them.

Ruffling Taemin’s hair gently, dropping a tiny kiss to the top of his head, Jonghyun finishes his post, sends it, and then puts his phone on power save mode so it doesn't die during their little snooze. Then he curls up on his side, wrapping his other arm around Taemin’s waist and tangling their legs together. He always likes sleeping with Taemin. It's so easy for them to be comfortable next to each other.

“I hope you dream about playing guitar with Junghee on the pier at sunset,” Taemin whispers to him. It takes a moment for that sentence to process in Jonghyun’s brain, but when it does, his heart swells and he squeezes Taemin that much closer, that much tighter. That's so sweet.

“Thanks,” he whispers back. “I hope you dream about dancing with Taeyeon and then you both have the sweatiest hug imaginable.”

“Hell yeah,” Taemin giggles. “Nighty-night.”

“Nighty-night.” And Jonghyun isn't feeling particularly sleepy, actually, but here, with Taemin, he can still close his eyes and let his brain turn off for a little bit, maybe doze for a little while, and that's more than he gets with anyone else.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #jjongsmonth #rollercoasterwrite #fluff #oneshot #pg #ydw #I didn't write the sequel but I do think about it a whole lot #but long story short jung sees his Instagram post and sends him $1000 and is like hey come see our concert:-)#he wakes up to it and nuts and when taemin wakes up he shows Taemin and Taemin nuts #th go see the concert and then like 3 years later theyre roadies : )

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skyflicker · 4 years

Text

always with me (amasai week day six)

written for @amasaiweek2020 hosted by @toxicisnotapineapple and @storyflight! last fic i have for the week and the last installment in the ‘shuichi gets over rantaro’s death’ series (lmao). questionable ships ahead-

but seriously, i can’t write fluff lmao. and it’s another pretty narrative piece but i hope y’all still like and enjoy it! my ao3 is @silveryyy and this fic is up there, as are all my other ones, and i’ll be posting other fics of mine up there soon, so do stick around and stay tuned, there’s a lot of me y’all haven’t seen yet!

Shuichi’s hand lingers on the doorbell as he waits for someone to answer.

The mansion is huge, and as big as the family is, there are only two maids, so it takes quite some time until anyone comes to open the door. It’s quiet all around- the house is in the suburb areas of Sapporo, and not many people of similar status come out at night. At this time of the night, Shuichi is the only one on these streets, alone.

Moonlight smiles down at him, like a gossamer veil of pearl-like periwinkle silk hanging over the area, stray strands of the light winding around the lamp posts and illuminating the rooftops of the mansions. It casts a soft ivory sheen over the greenery lining the streets, the daisies shining a lilac colour as Night’s onyx cloak of darkness attempts to camouflage it. The tar-like fog of Night reaches towards Shuichi, clouds of billowing obsidian mist flooding towards him, starting to fill him with anxiety and doubt, but he’s barely affected- he knows that his best friend is always with him no matter what, and the thought alone comforts him and strengthens him against the attacks of darkness.

Snow is falling from the sky as the ever cold and unforgiving wind whips around Shuichi with its iced daggers and snowy blades, beating relentlessly at his face, and he holds his coat closer as his scarf spins around, tossed by the wind. Despite the cold it brings, the snowflakes are graceful, twirling in an elegant dance as they land lightly on the flowers, on the grass, covering the cobblestones on the pavement, leaving piles of alabaster fluffiness on the sides of the road: it leaps everywhere, coating the roofs and falling, like dimmed meteors, the spears of the stars, onto Shuichi’s hands. He shivers from the contact- it’s freezing cold, and he’s not wearing gloves- but he smiles at the serenity of the moment nonetheless. It’s cliche, but he likes watching the snow fall. There’s something mesmerizing about how the droplets of softened ice sway to the rondo of the wind, how they fall almost uniformly but there’s a natural irregularity to it that makes it ever so interesting to watch. People normally think of snow as something beautiful and soft and lovely until they come into contact with it and dismiss it as annoying, but Shuichi doesn’t. He just loves it, loves the silence it seems to naturally bring, loves the tranquility of its nature.

There’s a poem he really likes, Quieter than Snow, by Bertie Dorherty, that he heard when he was in school. It’s a poem he always thinks about when he sees snow (which is rather often after he moved to Sapporo), even though he knows the poem isn’t actually about snow and is actually rather eerie. He’s never been much of a literature person, being more of a science kid than language, but Kaede, and surprisingly Maki both studied the subject as an elective, and the latter taught him the poem during one of their study sessions with Kaito. It’s somewhat creepy, in his opinion, and sends shivers down his spine, but it’s beautifully written, portrays silence and the strange feelings of feeling alone in somewhere that shouldn’t be, perfectly. The same silence always comes with the falling of snow, and even though Shuichi knows snow absorbs sound and that’s why everything seems so quiet around it, he can’t help but think of the poem.

It takes two minutes until the doorbell is answered. The oakwood doors creak open as Shuichi looks over, and lets a smile spread across his face as Sora opens the door, her face lighting up along with the porch, which is immediately submerged in the light streaming out from the entrance hall.

“Shuichi!” the young woman exclaims, and walks forward to pull the man inside. “We’ve been waiting for you! Sorry it took so long and sorry for leaving you in the cold, Akira was crying and everyone was fussing over her and all…”

“It’s no problem,” the man assures her, and her face relaxes. Shuichi changes into his indoor shoes- he smiles as he sees the shoes with his name clipped on them. He doesn’t live here with Rantaro’s sisters, but he’s over so often that they’ve prepared everything for him in case he drops over anytime.

“Everyone else is in the living room, I think, you’ll probably find whoever you’re looking for there.” Sora smiles at him, and then disappears into a corridor, no doubt off to the sewing room- Shuichi remembers Rantaro describing her as the most creative person he knew, and Shuichi completely agrees. Sora is an avid fan of textiles and sewing, and works as a fashion designer- she’s rather famous here in Japan, actually, and her designs are always popular. He’s seen some of them himself, and found himself extremely impressed- it’s like she weaves her outfits out of strands of moonlight and threads of sunlight. Naoko told him once that she recognized the necklace he wears upon seeing him because of the string the sea glass is strung on, and that it’s one of Sora’s special designs, woven out of the finest silks into a durable pearl-coloured string, and simply was irreplicable.

Despite how large the mansion is- Shuichi finds himself constantly surprised with the vastness of the Amami fortune no matter how many times he’s seen it in action- he’s been around enough times to know his way around. He finds his way to the living room easily, knocking lightly on the oak doors.

This time, his call is answered fairly quickly. The doors open to someone throwing their arms around him tightly. “Shuichi! We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Minori,” he smiles as he greets Rantaro’s youngest sister, the girl a whole eight years younger than he is. She was three when she was lost, according to Rantaro, and was only found four and a half years ago when she was sixteen. She’s an adult now, and Shuichi feels a pang of guilt in his stomach for not finding her earlier, but he pushes the thought away. “It’s great to see you, too.”

The teenage girl smiles happily as she releases him, and lets him into the room. The living room is vast, with dark chocolate coloured glossy floorboards, and beige pillars with gold swirled in them extend to the tall ceiling metres above him, arching to the middle of the ceiling. On the ceiling itself is a mural of the night sky and all the constellations, which glow in the dark when the lights are off, and a large light shaped like the solar system dangles from it. Further down the room, a carpeted spiral staircase, its handles painted gold and embedded with topaz stones that fracture the light and project tiny rainbows everywhere, leads up to a balcony overlooking the living room, connecting a few rooms together. It’s a gorgeous design, and even if Shuichi’s been here many times over the years since he’s found half of the siblings, which was when this mansion was bought, he still marvels at it every single time.

Rantaro’s sisters are scattered all over the room. In the middle, Ena and Akari are pouring over some drawings as Akari, ever the artist, adds small details to a painting, and in one corner of the room, Hanako is playing Mario Kart with Shiori and Inori on a large screen, and Shuichi watches, smiling, as Shiori crosses the finish line first, letting out a cheer, and her eyes turn to him. She laughs as she waves at him, and calls for her youngest biological sister, who is still behind Shuichi. Minori gives Shuichi’s hand a squeeze before she heads on over to her two biological sisters, who welcome her with hugs, and her second oldest sister. In another corner, Yuki is lounging on the bean bag chairs in the reading corner, back against the shelves overflowing with books, a pile of novels on the ground next to her, and typing away on her computer- Yuki’s a writer and poet, and Shuichi likes talking to her about plots and stories, and her books are always really beautifully written and interesting. She’s talking to Naoko as she types, and the other girl is finally smiling and laughing again, like Rantaro told him she did when she was small. The young woman had been through countless hardships and was even forced to help with numerous kidnappings, and it’d taken them ages to persuade her to come back to Japan. Initially she’d refused, and Shuichi and Amaka were forced to leave without her, but two months later, she’d appeared on the mansion’s doorstep, seeking refuge after deserting her slavers. Amaka had taken her in without a single moment of hesitation, and Shuichi was beyond relieved it had worked out okay. Naoko’s now studying translation, and she’s truly talented in the subject- Shuichi finds himself constantly impressed by her ability to speak fluently in so many different languages.

He’s an only child, Shuichi is, but being with Rantaro’s sister lets him in on the feeling of being an older brother to these lovely young women. They seem to treat him like an older brother too, and even though Shuichi wouldn’t dream of ever replacing Rantaro (and he’s sure the girls won’t either), he feels welcome with them. Like they’re family. Akari calls Shuichi her brother in law, and so do a couple of the others, and even though Shuichi feels vaguely uncomfortable with it- after all, he never had the chance to confess to Rantaro when he was alive- but he grows used to it after a while.

Some of Rantaro’s sister, like Ena and Hanako, aren’t always home- they stay in where they were lost for half the year or so, reunite with the family they built there while lost, so Shuichi especially enjoys and cherishes these times when they’re all home and the family is (almost) complete. It’s also why he loves the autumn and winter seasons so much- it gives him time to spend with his newfound family. He spends as much time as he can spare with them, gives them what they want, does everything he can for them, for Rantaro’s sake, for their brother who never got the chance to reunite with all of them.

“Shuichi!” he turns to see Kaede appearing at the top of the staircase, her signature bright smile on her face as she rushes downstairs and forward. He does the same, and they meet each other in the middle, Kaede reaching to embrace her childhood friend, the closest thing she ever had to a brother in her childhood days, and vice versa.

He’s always found it rather interesting and surprising that Kaede found love in one of Rantaro’s sisters- Amaka, in fact, who’s probably in one of the children’s rooms right now (probably Akira’s , their adopted daughter). It’s like fate always meant for Rantaro and Shuichi to become family, in one way or another. He remembers Rantaro telling him the meaning of the name ‘Amaka’- heaven’s song, and that’s probably what she is to Kaede, who’s a pianist and adores music. She loves her wife a lot, after all- that much is evident, by how Kaede’s eyes light up at the mere sight of Amaka, how she caters to her every need, how she looks at her wife with nothing but adoration.

“Kaede,” he greets her. “What did you call me here for? It’s past nine already.”

She frowns a little, and gestures at one of the rooms that connect to the balcony. “Your godson wanted to see you. He’s refusing to sleep until you come by.”

Shuichi sighs, but a smile is on his lips. He loves his godson, adores spending time with him. He isn’t surprised this happened, actually- with his mother, Rina, off on a week-long exchange trip to Korea (she’s a teacher in a primary school) and his father accompanying her, and his mother’s twin Riku staying the night at her girlfriend’s, the three year old’s bound to feel scared. He gestures to Kaede to leave it to him, and as Kaede beams and thanks him before heading up to her daughter’s room, he makes his way towards the one of the far left, with its door ajar.

He knocks, and enters his godson’s room. It’s painted baby blue, and photos are hung all over one of the walls, of different countries and the young boy’s twelve aunts, and a few of Shuichi and Kaede and Rantaro. Toys are littered all over the floor, and a white bookcase is built up against one of the corners of the room.

The small boy is curled up in a nest of pillows and blankets, and as Shuichi enters, he looks up, and his face brightens. “Shuichi!” he says in greeting, and he sits down on the bed, smiling.

“Hey, Taro,” he strokes his godson’s hair softly. It was incredibly sweet of Rina to name her son after her deceased brother, and even sweeter of her husband and her to name Shuichi godfather when small Rantaro was born. The boy has his mother’s silky blonde hair that looked just like the manifestation of sunlight, and the cerulean blue eyes Shuichi found ever so familiar (Riku and Rina has the exact same eyes), and even though he doesn’t look like his namesake, Shuichi can see the Rantaro he knew in the young boy, in his quiet thoughtfulness and love of adventure, and Shuichi loves him for who he is. He knows, that up above, in Heaven, Rantaro’s looking down on this child, and smiling.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” the boy says, and Shuichi can see the terror in his eyes, the fear he carries of sleeping without his parents by his side for the first time ever. “I can’t sleep, not without Oka-san here, Shuichi, I want her here with me-”

Shuichi ruffles Rantaro’s hair as he says soothingly, “You know your mother can’t be here with you tonight, Taro… she’ll be back very soon. You know, she’s probably looking at the sky right now, where she is, and wondering if you’re asleep yet, worrying if you’re too scared to sleep alone, or if you miss her too much. Your mother loves you a lot, you know that.”

Rantaro’s cerulean eyes are large, and beautiful, as if they hold miles and miles of oceans in them, but at this moment the waters inside are wild and rogue, waves splashing and crashing down from high up, and they look into Shuichi’s desperately as he leans into his godfather and hugs him tightly. Shuichi hugs back, trying the best he can to comfort the terrified boy.

At last, Rantaro says, his voice muffled by Shuichi’s clothes, “Shuichi, tell me a story.”

He complies, starting to rise to get a storybook from the bookshelf, but Rantaro clutches onto him tightly. “Taro, I can’t get a book if you don’t let go,” he tells the boy softly, but the three year old still holds on tight.

“I don’t want just any other story, Shuichi, I’ve heard most of those books before,” he says, “you read them to me, remember? I want a story about you. About- about Uncle Rantaro.”

Shuichi widens his eyes in surprise, but he smiles, giving in to his godson’s request. He finds himself talking about Rantaro (the one who is his best friend) and him meeting, laughing slightly when he reaches the point where Rantaro waited for him for the entire night just to apologize for something his father did; he talks about how they met up every week at the coffee shop, how they had unintentionally gotten into the same secondary school; he talks about their trips to find Rantaro’s sisters, about his first kiss, about the one time they succeeded and brought Rina home; he finds himself smiling bitterly as he goes onto talking about how Rantaro had died saving Rina in the bus crash, laughing briefly at how he shut himself in, and he tells his godson about how he found his closure. But most of all, he talks about Rantaro as a person, and as he talks he sees his best friend in his mind, with his comforting smile, the constant sadness present in his pretty lemongrass eyes, his windswept, tousled hair, and how he was always so selfless and kind and caring. He finds himself unable to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek as he tells small Rantaro how his namesake cared for his sisters, for everyone around him, and tiny Rantaro listens attentively, engrossed in Shuichi’s stories.

“He died so your mother, and you, could live,” Shuichi tells the boy. “He’d be so happy to see you living today, he’s probably smiling down at you and watching everything you do. He’s always with me, and he’s always with you.”

Rantaro (the young boy, that is) is silent for a moment, and then he says, “why’s the ending so sad?”

Shuichi’s caught off guard, “Huh?”

“Why couldn’t Uncle Rantaro have lived?” the boy asks. “Why did he have to die in the end and make everyone so sad? Why can’t he and you just, I don’t know, live happily ever after?”

Shuichi laughs a little as he pats his godson on the head lightly. “Rantaro, but it is a happy ending.”

The three year old tilts his head, confused, “But he died! You were so upset, and Oka-san was upset, and everyone was sad over it…”

“Happy endings come in all shapes and sizes,” Shuichi says quietly. “Rantaro may have died and left us, but he died protecting his sister, one of the people he loved most. He died protecting your mother, and you, and he achieved his purpose perfectly- look, you and your mother are leading a life that’s full of happiness, see? Your Uncle Rantaro would’ve been so happy if he was here now. Besides, his greatest wish was to find all his sisters, and even if he died before he could see everyone back, they’re all safe and sound now, aren’t they? His death isn’t the end of the story, just the part that shocked everyone, the plot twist that makes the story worth reading. We’re living out the end of the story now. We’re living out his happy ending.”

Shuichi touches the sea glass around his neck. He doesn’t need it anymore, not now, for now, he’s finally letting go, letting the guilt and grief and everything stay in the past. His memories of him are dear, and are important to Shuichi, but Shuichi now knows, now realizes, that he doesn’t need the sea glass to prove to him that Rantaro is there with him.

Because Rantaro isn’t only in the sea glass. He’s everywhere, in his sisters’ smiles and laughter, he’s there in Shuichi’s happiness and there to guide him when times are rough. Rantaro is in his heart, a lamp to guide his way in the dark, the path of moonlight on the sea so Shuichi can pass through safely. Rantaro is there with Shuichi no matter what.

He hesitates, and then unfastens the necklace around his neck. Reaching out to take his godson’s hand, he puts it there and closes his hand gently. “Take this, Rantaro. It belonged to your uncle, to someone I loved very much, and when I was wearing it, I felt his presence with me, and it comforted me and gave me strength when I needed it. But now, it’s time to pass this on. Put it on, and your uncle will always be with you, and he’ll guide your path when you need help, and you’ll never be alone. Remember, when you touch this, that you aren’t alone, and you have me, and your mother and father, and all your aunts.”

Rantaro looks at the necklace, seemingly touched, and he looks up at Shuichi. “Could you help me put it on?” he murmurs, and Shuichi smiles, taking it and easily clasping it around Rantaro’s neck.

“Now go to sleep,” he tells his godson, who smiles and nods.

He stays there after he turns the lights off, watches his godson drift off into the land of dreams, and places his hand over where the sea glass used to be. It feels strangely empty, without the necklace he’d worn for years, but Shuichi’s no longer afraid of the dark.

“You’re much braver than I remembered,” a voice whispers from the doorway, and Shuichi turns to see Kaede standing there with a smile on her face. “I’m proud of you, and Rantaro would be, too.”

Shuichi stands, and walks out to meet Kaede. They stand on the balcony, overlooking Rantaro’s sisters living out the childhood they lost with each other. “I’m just doing what Rantaro would’ve wanted me to do,” he says. “I’ve found all of his sisters, brought them all home, finished his last wish. Rantaro wouldn’t have wanted me to be stuck in the past, or to never move on after his death. He’d want me to live his ‘happily ever after’ for him, and that’s what I'm doing now.”

Kaede laughs. “And to think that this is the same person who yelled at me when I tried to get him to move on all those years ago,” she teases him.

“Hey! I was busy being traumatized back then!” he protests, and Kaede ruffles his hair as he ducks away, laughing.

He looks out over the handrails again, and can’t help but smile at the sight of Rantaro’s sisters- his sisters- as they mingle, and live, and write out their own happy endings. They were all once lost, torn apart by fate, but they all rewrote their destinies and managed to reunite.

Now, it’s Shuichi’s turn to rewrite his destiny, to live out his happy ending for Rantaro. He touches the spot where the necklace used to be again, and smiles,

and knows in his heart that Rantaro will always watch over him.

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa fanfiction #rantaro amami #shuichi saihara #rantaro x shuichi #amasai #amasai week 2020 #silveryyyy's fanfiction

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years

Text

Birthday Boys

Chapter 2: The reunion

Warning: Angst, mentions of Blood, past abuse and street violence.

Chapter 2 of 4? (I honestly don’t know how long this shit might end up)

Read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/53109988?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_275346271

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The week had passed too fast and not fast enough. The three sibbling felt like they were going up on a roller coaster and when they reached the drop, they knew it could either go great or bad.

Fuyumi, always the optimistic, was basically shaking with excitement since Saturday. She had watched every single video Tomura had uploaded ever and sent to their group chat a couple of videos of Touya appearing in the background. She also checked constantly on their instagram account. She was acting like a teenager with a new phone.

Natsuo, on the other hand, was looking more scared as the days went by. At first, he was mad. Why hadn’t Touya came himself? Why did he have to send his roommate? Did he even want to come back? He stopped being mad after, surprisingly, a call with Shouto. Apearently, Fuyumi had voice her concerns to Shou about him and the little shit called him. Shouto just told him that if he didn’t want to go, he didn’t have to and him, being the loving and caring big brother that he was, told him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. The conversation ended with Shouto asking him if he was really ready to lose Touya again.

After that, Natsou sucked up his pride and decided to copy Fuyumi’s actions and learn everything he could about “Dabi”. Unlike Fuyumi, he found a lot more than her. He found out he presented his new art every friday on the bar from the card and you could book an appointment with him; that he knew a make-up instagramer by the name of Toga-chan; and that he had made some graffities around town under an alias.

His life had been pretty decent. And when he arrived at that conclusion, he knew his answer.

No. He wasn’t ready to let him go again.

But what if Touya didn’t want to come back? What if, he didn’t want to be found?

The youngest sibbling was trying to hold it together. Unknown to his other sibblings, he had had a relationship with Touya. It was based on secrets, yeah. But it was their secret. It was a secret, that Touya hid him everytime he could. It was a secret, that Touya would tend to his wounds when Fuyumi and Mom couldn’t. It was a secret, that every night Touya would stay with him till he fell asleep. It was a secret, that everytime they were made to train together Touya would never hurt him even if it meant receiving father’s hate afterwards. It was a secret, that one morning, as he woke up, he saw Touya grab his thing and walk out the door and did nothing to stop him.

When Fuyumi dropped him at UA, he felt like he could breath again. It was like being back on their father’s house. His relationship with Touya was secret from his father because he didn’t want to get hurt and it was secret from his sibblings because he didn’t want to hurt them. How would they react if they knew that he was the reason Touya left? (He was pretty sure if Touya hadn’t cared so much about him, his father would have left him alone) What would they think if they learnt that he just let him walk away? That he said nothing to stop him? That he didn’t cry for him to stay or even asked him why he was leaving?

He just recently started to spend time with his sibblings, he didn’t want to lose them, too.

On Friday, when Fuyumi came to pick him up. He couldn’t hold it anymore. He didn’t want to keep secrets from his sibblings. He wanted them to be a happy family. So he told Fuyumi on the car and then Natsuo on the apartment.

Fuyumi took it well albeit sad, she told him she knew what Touya did for him and that she was happy he had happy memories to remember him by. Natsuo took it better, he reasured him that it wasn’t his fault Touya left, their dad was the problem and that he knew Touya visited him at night since he was look out for dad.

The next day, they were tense all the day. At eight, they were all showered and ready to go to the grill. They all got in the car and went in silence. The place looked like a ‘50′s dinner from western movies, and not many people were there. There were only a car and a motorbike parked outside, not including theirs.

Entering the place, they saw them on the third booth, Shigaraki and Touya were sitting together. He was there. He was really there. All tattooed and pierced and brused. Wearing a white t-shirt and black pants with a black jacket. And when he noticed them he chocked on what he was eating which made Tomura turn and see them.

There was a sort of pause between them, as if that exact moment became trapped in time. They were realizing now that all this time there was this invisible leash tied around the three younger sibbling that prevented them from reaching their big brother, but now, it was broken, cut. It wasn’t there. There was still a sort of tension. One that screamed danger and worriness.

“TOUYAAAA!!!!”

Fuyumi moved first. She threw herself at the older man and started full out crying and repeating his name. That snapped the other two out of their trance. Natsuo and Shoto followed Fuyumi and went to Touya´s other side, Shigaraki had moved to let them into the booth. Touya didn’t move, nor did he return the hug back.

With Fuyumi on his left, Shouto on his right and Natsuo sandwiching all of them together, the first thing they heard their brother say after 10 years of not seeing him and beliving he was dead was: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

They all let go of him and Fuyumi answered him. “Your roommate, Shigaraki contacted us...”

“What!?” Touya shouted at Shigaraki.

“Touya, It´s fine.” Natsuo said as he tried to calm him. “Dad is...”

“Shut up!” He screamed again looking at Natsuo for a moments to then turn back to his roomamate. “You called them!? Contacted them!?” Shigaraki nodded slowly while the other three only watched as their brother lost it. “And in what fucking moments did I ever showed any sign of wanting to see them again? IT’S BEEN TEN YEARS, TENKO. IF I WANTED TO SEE THEM AGAIN, I WOULD’VE DONE IT MYSELF!”

With that, he stood up and forcefully left the booth. He grabbed two helmets that were in the seats behind them and stormed out. Shigaraki followed him, calling his name. “Touya, WAIT!”

Fuyumi was crying, Natsuo too and Shouto looked through the window as his brother and Shigaraki screamed for a while until Touya left in the motorbike they saw on the parking lot.

Shigaraki returned to a table with three crying sibblings. The girl was crying heavy tears, the young one rubbed a couple of drops before they had a chance to fall and the middle one was covering his eyes but you could notice the wet path of tears going through his face.

“Sorry” Shigaraki said. “I didn’t know he would react like that.”

Fuyumi took a deep breath and turned to Tomura. “It’s fine. Thanks to you, we know he is alive and...”

“Why did you contact us?” Shouto interrupted her and rudely asked the grey haired man. “He is obviously okay without us... so why call us?”

Shigaraki sat in the booth again and signed the waitress for the check. “Even if he wants to deny it, he does want you back in his life. A couple of years ago, your brother needed money to open up his tattoo shop and he asked a... very bad guy for a loan. He ended up in a gang and did a bunch of crimes for it. The guy is in jail now, but he is afraid that if he gets out and seaches for revenge, or if any other enemy he made wants to hurt him, you wil be in the middle of the crossfire.”

The waitress gave Tomura his check and after paying, they all went out of the dinner. Fuyumi, that noticed her brother had left Shigaraki stranded, offered to drive him home. After a little of convincing, Tomura accepted, and they all got in the car.

Shouto, that was in the back with Tomura broke the silence after a while.

“How did you meet Touya?” He asked.

Shigaraki answered without looking at him, still staring out the window. “The same way we met all of our friends. We were all part of the gang. I was there first.”

“Who did you work for?” He asked again

Tomura looked at him for a moment and then went back to the window. Without blinking, he answered “One for all”

The car stopped abruptly at a red light, making a screching sound. Natsuo and Shouto were staring at him with their eyes wide while Fuyumi apologised and started moving again when the light changed to green.

One for all was the ruler of all the underground and black market of Japan. He had been for many years since the name One for all was a tittle passed down from one person to the other. He was the most dangerous man alive. You had to be desperate to seek him out and once you owed him something, you were in his net forever. And a couple of months back, the current holder was arrested. He took down almost all of down town Kamino with him, but he was lock down for good.

“Wha...How did you ended up with him?” Natsuo asked this time. His voice barely a whisper, as if afraid the man itself would be summoned by saying his name.

“Nothing. I was his heir.” They all gasped. “My grandmother came closer than anyone to bring him down. So, he killed my whole family as a message and took me to become the next One for all.”

“Shigaraki...”Fuyumi started to talk but he stopped her.

“It’s in the past now. I moved on. Touya helped me a lot with that. He showed me how to live and let me see how much I was being controlled by him. I still can’t belive he’s my boyfriend. For now” He whispered the last part. The sibbling didn’t know what happened when he was outside with Touya, what they said to each other, but by his tone, it was not good.

They arrived at Tomura’s home. Fuyumi thanked him again for what he did for them, and asked him if he could please take care of Touya. Shigaraki nodded and left the car. He noticed that once he came out of the vehicole, the light from their bedroom turned off. Touya could act as a hardass all he wanted, but on the inside he was a softie. He waved the Todoroki´s goodbye and watched as they drove away.

‘Well, that ended expectacularly’ He thought as he climbed the fire escape. He sent Kurogiri a text, telling him that they weren’t going to make it to the bar and that they would explain to the gang tomorrow.

As he stood in the hallway, he noticed the couch had a pillow and a thick blanket. He tried to open the door to the bedroom and found it locked. Sighting, he knocked on it but got no responce from inside.

“Are we really not gonna talk about this?” He asked as he leaned into the door. He didn’t get a responce again. “Fine.”

He grabbed the pillow and the blanket and went to his filming room. He could understand not wanting to see him and vanishing him to the couch, but that thing was torture to sleep in without his boyfriend´s warm body there.

That night was a long one for both of them. Tomura trying to sleep with guilt and without his personal heater (A.K.A his boyfriend) and Dabi crying himself to sleep. Because right now, he felt like the guy that couldn’t do anything against his father to save his family, like the kid that ran away to save his skin and only his, like the teenager that spent his first night as a runaway sleeping in the train station’s bathroom. That night he felt like Touya again.

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The three sibblings, after dropping Shigaraki, went to a drive-through nearby and then went home. They food was flavourless. Or at least it felt that way.

This Saturday, Natsuo went back to campus. He didn’t care about the time and Fuyumi didn’t make a fuss about it. She understood that he needed time. They all did. So while she cleaned, Natsuo took his things and left. Fuyumi only told him to text her when he got there.

Shouto went to his room and simply laid in his bed starring at his ceiling. He used to do this when he waited for Touya when he was a child. The moment Touya came throught his door, he used to belive everything was going to be okay, better. It was now a habbit of his. He remembers, the first night after Touya left, he waited all night for him.

He never came.

After what felt like an eternity, Shouto got up and went to the kitchen to... he didn’t know what for. But he needed to do something. Anything.

The kitchen wasn’t empty though. Fuyumi was sitting in the floor crying against the fridge while she holded a small muffin with a lit up candle. She was sobbing, tears falling heavily onto the floor and her clothes. It was a quiet cry. But the Todoroki family had long ago learnt that was the best way to cry in a house so cold and deathly quiet like theirs. Guess moving out of there didn’t exactly stopped it.

“Happy Birthday, Touya” Fuyumi said between sobs and blew out the candle.

Shouto enterred the kitchen and sat down next to his sister, pulling her into a hug. The two cried together and for the first time ever since they moved to the apartment, the two, brother and sister, felt like they were chocking.

They felt as if they weren’t in the apartment anymore. They were back in that house, where all family dinners were awkard and silent, where the walls had screams stucked on them, where blood and tears had stained the floor permanently.

The place where in the end, only Shouto and Fuyumi were left. No family, no happiness, no hope. Only them and the echoes of boots stomping on the tatami floor.

They were there crying, alone, scared. For that moment, they felt as if they were waiting for the inevitable. For Enji to appear through the door.

#birthday boys #bnha fanfiction #bnha #todoroki shouto #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki natsuo #todoroki touya #todoroki family #angst #dabi is a todoroki #Shigadabi #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #modern au #bnha au #why do i keep doing this #i cried so much #poor kids

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cheesytoucans · 5 years

Text

Starlight Supernatural AU: Meeting the Pawrents

Maya was trying to get her nerves hidden, which was difficult considering her girlfriend has been freaking out for days now. The vampire was also more than a little hurt. You see, she’s been dating Claudine for over a year now (closer to three years, if you count all the time they spent mutually pinning and then not-dating), and in all that time Kuro has tried to keep her as far away from her parents as possible.

At first she thought it was just Kuro being independent and trying to keep their relationship as their own business, but as time went on she started getting worried. Would kuro’s parents disapprove of her and that’s why Claudine didn’t want to tell them? After she found out the blonde did tell her parents, she only got more worried, convinced that they were against the relationship and Kuro just didn’t want to tell her. Then, about a month ago, Claudine reluctantly told her she was formally invited to France after graduation to spend a month with her family.

“It’s about time!” Banana exclaimed, to Maya’s confusion. “Your mom has been asking me about Maya all year!”

“I told you to stop talking with my mom!”

While Nana scolded Kuro, Maya was frozen. It was sounding more and more like Kuro’s parents had wanted to meet her for a while, but Kuro has refused.

Why? Was something wrong with her? Was her Claudine not as serious about this relationship as Maya was?

Maya quickly hid her feelings and accepted the invitation.

She would have talked to Kuro about it, but her girlfriend had been so stressed about this meeting that Maya didn’t have the heart to tell her. Besides, she’s been pretty busy with graduation and preparing for the trip (her parents thankfully didn’t need her for anything clan-related so she had gotten their permission quickly. They had actually seemed happy on their own way as soon as she told them it was to meet Claudine’s family. Maya wasn’t very surprised. Her parents probably loved their own donors more than they loved each other, since their marriage had been arranged. They even wanted to meet Kuro too, but Maya managed to do some fast talking to get her girlfriend out of that for a while. She’ll worry about it if she survived her own meeting with the parents).

And now here she was, about to arrive at France, and her girlfriend looking more and more as if the world was about to end.

Luckily, they managed to find their baggage quickly and didn’t have time for anything else before they heard an excited shout.

“Puppy!” Kuro pretty much ran to hug the couple waiting for them. Maya had seen pictures, and seeing how gorgeous her girlfriend was it didn’t come as a surprise, but Claudine’s parents were really attractive. Kuro took after her mother a lot.

After letting the family have a moment to reconnect, Maya came closer.

Kuro nervously introduced her and Maya said her greetings in both French and Japanese. She was going to do everything she could to get Kuro’s parents to like her. Including acting as formal as possible to hide her nerves.

She barely came out of her deep bow before she was attacked by a hug and kisses on the cheeks courtesy of her mother in law.

“We’re so happy to meet you dear, our pup won’t stop talking about you!”

Her senses tingled, trying to tell her something, but she was so caught off guard by the effusive greeting that she couldn’t tell what it was. Then came a handshake with Kuro’s dad, who insisted she call them “mom and dad”. Maya resisted a bit, she was supposed to be formal and courteous but she also didn’t want to go against her in-laws’ wishes, so they reached a compromise with “mother and father”.

The whole car ride to the house (it was more like a beautiful villa, but who cares about semantics?), Kuro’s parents kept her off balance by being so damn welcoming and warm. Maya spent so long thinking about worse case scenarios that she wasn’t prepared to deal with how downright friendly and supportive of their relationship Her Claudine’s parents were. Complimenting her on how beautiful, smart and well-mannered she was, congratulating Kuro for such a catch, telling her just how much Kuro talked about her. Kuro loudly complained about how embarrassing they were being.

Maya was floored to find out they had even asked Kuro in advance about her favorite food, so they had a big feast prepared to celebrate their graduation that had both Kuro’s and Maya’s favorites. There were several gourmet dishes involving potatoes, and crab. Maya probably ate more than was polite, but in her defense, mother and father kept pushing her to try everything and have seconds and even thirds.

After stuffing themselves, Maya and Kuro were ready to drop. The flight was catching up to them. Mother insisted on Maya sleeping in Kuro’s room (Father just gave a long-suffering sigh in the background, resigned to this fate).

Mother gave them both a hug goodnight, and that’s when the feeling at the back of her mind that had been bothering her clicked. Still, Maya didn’t say or do anything about it until the next morning when Kuro and her weren’t feeling like zombies.

Maya woke up spooning Kuro. She was pretty sure her girlfriend had been awake for a while now but had decided against getting up because she was too comfy to move. They both stayed like that, cuddling in silence until Maya worked up the nerve to ask.

“Your mother is not a werewolf, is she?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Maya regretted it because her wolf tensed up immediately. Still, the damage was already done so she pressed forward. “Is that why you didn’t want me to meet them? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Who would want to tell their girlfriend that they are a freak of nature?” The words and the bitterness in Kuro’s voice surprised Maya. She made Kuro turn to face her and lifted her chin to make eye contact. Claudine had that defiant look on her face that was mostly bravado, since her eyes were shining with tears and here lower lip was pouting more and more every second. It broke Maya’s heart.

“Don’t you EVER say that about my girlfriend. Ma Claudine is a beautiful gift, and I won’t let anyone believe otherwise. Especially not you.”

That’s all it took for the waterworks to start. She held the blonde tight to her chest as she cried and let all the fear out. It turns out, Kuro had also been worrying herself sick all this time. For some reason that Maya couldn’t fathom, Claudine though she would be disgusted if she learned the truth.

Maya would NEVER be disgusted by or reject her girlfriend for something outside of her control, and she repeatedly reassured her of this. But she had to admit Kuro’s whispered explanations were a little surprising.

You see, when two supernatural creatures of different species had kids (IF they could have kids), said children would take after the species of one parent, never a mix of the two. Sure, there were tales of mixed offspring, but Maya thought those were myths. Until now.

Kuro’s mother was a weredog (and Maya would bet a lifetime supply of blood that she knew exactly what kind, considering how Claudine’s wolf form looked) and her father a werewolf. At most, Kuro said, she should have been a wolf with golden colored fur or a dog with a fur coloring pattern similar to her dad, not… Whatever she was.

Thankfully, she smelled like a wolf (or at least similar enough), so she managed to pass as long as people didn’t meet both of her parents and saw her transformed form. Somehow, no one in Japan had put two and two together. Probably because her parents spent a lot of time in France, or because people put anything weird they noticed about her own scent down to her being half-french. Claudine was just thankful the vultures of the press never got wind of it. Being so different was a sure way of ending your career if you’re not well established.

Maya just listened and tried to reassure her when she could. They quietly discussed very important topics, like the fact that Kuro saw herself as a wolf regardless of her unusual biology, and how much it freaked her out whenever people compared her to a Golden Retriever and she had to pretend to be angry to deflect any possible suspicions (Maya decided to subtly interrupt any future teasing by their friends, since they didn’t know any better). That this secret was the reason why she tried to keep herself apart from the other wolves at the beginning until they became friends. That she was afraid they would reject her, even now that she knew them better and was pretty sure they wouldn’t do that, you can never be completely sure and there was no way to take it back after telling them.

(Although she was convinced Nana already figured it out somehow. Maya agreed).

The vampire promised that everything related to this was Kuro’s secret to tell, and that she would support her in whatever she decided, even if she decided to never tell another soul.

Then Maya confessed her own insecurities and Kuro apologized profusely for giving her the wrong idea. The blonde insisted she was more than happy with Maya meeting her parents. Even if they shared embarrassing details about Kuro.

After this long overdue talk, they both could finally relax. Kuro especially looked like she had taken a huge weight off her shoulders, so Maya decided it was safe to do a little gentle teasing.

“You know, I really wasn’t lying. You’re truly adorable when you cry.”

“Shut your mouth right now, Tendou Maya!”

~~~🌟~~~

Notes: And that’s why Kuro-chan is so tiny. I’ve been saving this for a while lol

Sorry for any typos, my tablet’s keyboard is acting weird for unknown reasons.

#oh my god #curly this is the best shit #thank you for these gifts #kuro is a werewolf!#she's small and we love her and she's doing her best #and all the other puppies love her too #she's a member of the pack!#that means she's family #supernatural au #long post #shoujo kageki revue starlight #submission

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cwebberphotography · 7 years

Text

Two New YouTube videos: https://youtu.be/ipOWwYufwa4

Holi is the festival of colours. It’s also the day I chose to take a break from Pokhara. After breakfast I got a ride on Nirmal’s motor bike to the bus stop. I didn’t get a seat for about 20 minutes so I bumped around in the isle. Then I walked four hours up to Panchase. Got lost, stopped a lot. I asked directions a couple times and when I got to Green Village I was pulled in for a tea and dal baht. Arjun said if I stay a week it would be 700 NPR/night for a room and three meals a day plus all the tea I can drink. Now I have lots of time to meditate explore, photograph, sit with the cats and watch them make food in the Gurung kitchen.

There are no decorations in this place. Mud walls and floors a fire on the ground some pots and pans and stools five inches off the ground. Somehow everything is possible in the kitchen. They have a big pot that acts as the sink/compost which they feed to the buffalo once a day. And running water outside that comes out glacier cold. After lunch I walked the trail to one of many Shiva Temples. Lots of good view points and half way up stopped in a secluded spot to meditate on a rock. Found a tree and put my hand on it to see if it would speak to me. It just said he was old as time immemorial. When I came back at sunset it was raining and hailing so I went by the fire and the cool cat warmed my lap while they made dinner. Eventually my legs fell asleep and thankfully the cat moved off. Then slowly the life blood came flowing back again. They hired a carpenter from the next village to stay there and make 20 bee hives and furniture. He was treated like a second class citizen the entire time, he ate last, only millet and dal, usually outside or on the floor away from everyone else and had his own plates and cup…I thought he was a slow neighbour at first as he chatted on about god-knows. While eating he was striking all sorts of poses he was also drinking lots of local wine.

Soon I’m off to bed. Shuba raatri. What stars aren’t clouded over are completely over taken by the brightness of the full moon. Made even more powerful by the lack of power on top of the mountain.

A letter to the man who just arrived: This place will eat you alive. If you let it. You may leave a different person. You may not like the long cold nights and the silence of the days may cause a blissful malaise. Bamboo forests and fires in the distance. Dusk in the meadow. Hermits who don’t wave back, abandoned foundations and empty river crossings. Cow bells hidden by mountain passes. Himalayas tower over me tall with white clouds blown over, smeared across time from day break to now, they stand watch in the North over tiny galaxies in the leaves.

The higher I get the better I feel. Nepal is the top of the world. This place just got a road in 2012 and electricity is also new. I can take an evening stroll and see nothing but the view. The stars shine bright and the food is fresh within a few feet. There are no preservatives no refrigerator and the air and water are clean. The only voices I hear are miles away.

The sun emits radio waves through the vacuum of space. Exactly two months into this trip. Two months ago I left home now I’m in a cave in Nepal in a mountain in the forest with my feet up. I see maybe three or four people everyday. Wake with the sun. Ma lights two incense and makes tea and I stretch and gaze at the Himalayas. Wash my face and eat breakfast then walk into the mountains to find Shiva temples and small caves. Pink and red rhododendron trees line the path. Sit in the sun. nap on a stoop, my jacket packs into little pillow. Smell of wet green forest and only the sound of birds and falling leaves occasional bees and far away single engine airplanes. I’ve had too much dal baht. Probably eaten my weight in rice. Singing Om with John Lennon listening to Let It Be the sun dries my tears as I descend the mountain. Several Beatles references this week have brought back the thought that as time goes on coincidences and synchronisities will grow as well. The song Across the Universe has new meaning for me now as Lennon sings the mantra Jay Guru Deva and then says Om.

Fog straddled the mountain and caressed it from all angles. As I pass flowers after flowers and my path is lined with red pedals the smell of a woman enters my nostrils and I know it’s no woman but the fragrance of God and it’s he who makes all the beautiful women smell as good as they do. Without flowers there would be no perfume.

Green Village guest house is at least 25 years old. Arjun’s grandma’s older brother lived in town and lost everything in a card game so he came here where there were only a few buffalo farmers. He built the original place and lived here 50 years before he was robbed and returned to town. Slowly his family moved up the mountain and started the first tea house and added to it as others came to make a full-fledged ‘hotel’. I had a lot of questions for Arjun, he said they go to town once a month for supplies sometimes less sometimes more. Sometimes they’re without power for months at a time and before the road his aunt would walk both ways.

Today I was caught in the rain. Turned hail storm. I sat under a tree to stay as dry as possible then continued to shoot. Someone who knows Nama the Mother is here now. He’s my age and working in England and is home visiting for a funeral. He says he’s Buddhist and could not do vipassana because he’s not strong enough.

Bishal left this morning after another good talk. Also my phone is dead and there is no sign of power coming back on. We had breakfast around 6:30 and lunch after 10 a.m. Between we chatted about London, meditation, smoking, family, LSD, books, music and getting together in Pokhara. His family caste is from Himalayas, the Gurung warrior caste, and have been with the British Army for 200 years. He told me two stories of vipassana he’s heard. One was his friend ran away early on the third day and another friend did it and told his long time girlfriend after that he had been cheating and also has a wife. Today I saw Ma with a pile of buffalo shit in her hand walking down the path.

Woke at six and had a millet pancake which includes five teaspoons of sugar, water, eggs and honey on top. The moon is still high in the sky as the sun rises. Mountains are invisible and the sky is blue. The dew and condensation drops from the roof and ceiling as the local news plays on the radio and the dude hammers away at bee hives. I went to a part of the mountain with no birds or bees or breeze and felt complete silence. It’s fleeting and actually deafening. After it disappeared I was happy to hear again. Ok with the radio, the birds and bees the chatter in any language was welcome. Here I’m able to meditate all day and stretch and read and be 100% in nature all the time. Best of all I have no worries. No worries of the future or present. All my food and shelter are taken care of, my toilet, clothes, TV time at night when there is power. Even without power or electricity I’m fine and happy.

Occasional sense desires come but that’s why I’m here. To get away from cake and chips and jungle talkies and tourists because soon enough my life will be turned upside down in Japan and Kathmandu. Monday of this week like the last 10 at least have come and gone without a whimper. Just a smile if I realize which day it is. It truly is your job you hate not a certain day of the week.

After an hour sit in my room I walked the path to Arthur and found a spot to sit in the sun. Stopping every 10 feet to smell a new smell or listen or stare far away and regain my long distance sight which dissolves in the confines of a city. Seeing people on these trails is as rare as seeing a moose in Canada. I heard people have around 60,000 thoughts (conscious and subconscious) a day and 95% of them are the same as yesterday. We are all writing our stories day by day. I would like for mine to have no repeats.

It’s Thursday, yesterday I had a hot water bucket bath and today I did my laundry which may never dry. As I walked the ridge I could hear two women in the bush and figured they were pruning trees for buffalo like the woman I came across on the way up, way up in a tree. After sitting I heard them closer, then saw four human size bunches of leaves go down the path laughing and chatting along. These people are masters of camouflage.

After an afternoon nap, out my window a man and Ma were carrying wood on their foreheads and dumping it. She’s old and he’s older and I found myself watching thinking maybe they’d let me stack the wood. I asked Arjun and he said go ahead and grab a basket. If she can do it so can I. Now she’s stacking and he’s carrying so I grab a basket and start. After 1.5 hours working bare foot the pile disappeared. It’s hard work, and if you stop paying attention to what you’re doing for one second you can really hurt yourself. That night I had two roxies (local wine) and watched the Waterboy until her Hindi soaps came on.

Pani is water. Jaro is cold. Basa means sit. Chiya is tea. Chiini is sugar.

Second last day a man from Vancouver came and we talked most of the time. He’s 44 has a house and family. Works for the city as an engineer and micro-doses LSD and mushrooms for ideas and to stay fresh. He said he couldn’t live without meditating before bed. I said I also enjoy it. On the walk down Ram Dass said meditation is a method and a trap. You need to become trapped in it for it to work but ultimately it is a method and should be dropped. The goal is not to be a meditator but to be free.

The days are long and life is short. I take it one hour at a time. I love laughing with Nama and Arjun. I could live in this area but it’s changing fast. The road is starting to be used more and people searching for solitude are all coming here. Today a picnic bus came with people crammed in and over flowing onto the roof.

After a long walk I went to warm up and watch the festivities. As soon as I sat down two guys grabbed me and forced me to dance a fast song. I danced with an old man who looks like Gandhi with foggy glasses and missing teeth. My reward was some of the best food I’ve had to date.

Thankful to be traveling alone and for strangers who dance.

Seven days in Bhangjyang Two New YouTube videos: Holi is the festival of colours. It's also the day I chose to take a break from Pokhara.

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