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jadedxrealityw · 3 years

Text

-Found You- Dean Thomas x Reader

☼-♥-☼

Kody: (SHORT STORY) using gender neutral pronouns for the first time with my first ever Dean Thomas reader, tell me what you think. Also made sure to include androgynous type clothes.

Movie/Show: Harry Potter

House/Year: Gryffindor, 7th year

Summary: after being abandoned by your friends in your first year of Hogwarts, you meet a weird lot of boys who fill the void the others had left, some more then others and when you almost kiss one of them, it becomes more then awkward.

Pronouns Used: They/Them

Possible Triggers/Warnings: suggestive flirting, gen z humor, cursing, the fluff, no voldy au, slight golden trio slander with redemption, reader staring off into space.

☼-♥-☼

first year

the day you were placed in house Gryffindor you had become close to a few choice people, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Your four were as close as close could be in the beginning of your first year, playing pranks, studying in the common room. All of the things friends would do.

towards the end of the year you had caught them hanging out without you on mutiple occasions when they said they were all busy on other occasions. It didn’t bother you at first, thinking a was a one off- multiple one offs. Then it got a bit worse.

study groups turned into you waiting for hours for them to show up, only for you to fall asleep on top of your textbooks waiting. Getting breakfast together now was just you sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table only for George Weasley to tell you they had already ate and left.

you weren’t stupid, you knew when you were being avoided. You also were never one for confrontation, so you made the executive decision to stop making an effort to hang out with any of them, just to see if they would and maybe everything you were thinking was just from your paranoia.

alas it was the end of the school year and you couldn’t do much hanging out with anyone since your mother was strict, only allowing friends to come over to your place, not the other way around. It was embarrassing at times, but you understood all her rules came from a place of love and experience.

not that they had ever come over before, even for the winter holiday. Though you understood that as all of you went home to your families. (Yes, James and Lily are alive), but since you all had two months out of school, you figured there would be enough time to at least meet up once.

you had each of there mailing address’s and they had yours. It was the first ‘gift’ you had given to each other and at the time, you were excited to have them. Now when you looked at the the ripped piece of parchment, it’s mere existence mocked you.

as you predicted, nothing came. No letter from your so called ‘friends’ nothing at all. It was disheartening to say the least, but at the same time you saw it coming. The rest of those two months you spent with your mother, which was actually pretty nice.

☼-♥-☼

second year

as you stepped off the train, the cold air of Hogsmeade Station hit your face, causing the hairs on your neck to stand up. You looked around, watching students as they walked with there friends or hugged them tightly. You’ll admit, it made your expression turn dark.

so you stood, just watching. As people passed, they gave you strange stares and made snide comments about how weird you looked, staring off into nothing. Most students had dispersed when your shoulder gets knocked, bringing you back into the moment.

“Oh sorry!” you recognized the voice. Once your head turned your met with the familiar face of Neville Longbottom. “Oh Neville! Sorry was i in your way?” you quickly apologize, a sheepish smile on your face. Neville copies your smile, shaking his head “No, Seamus just shoved me too hard”

“Did not, your just weak“ Seamus argued, crossing his arms in a huff. You weren’t too familiar with Seamus Finnigan or the taller boy next to him, Dean Thomas. “Both of you, shut it“ Dean shook his head, a playful smile on his face as he pushed past the two boys to stand in front of you.

“You alright? You looked as if someone used body bind curse on you“ he jokes, a light laugh escaping his mouth. Oh jeez, how long have you stood there “Um- i was waiting for my friends, but i think they left me behind“ you confess, feeling more stupid then you already had been feeling.

Dean didn’t skip a beat as he shrugs his shoulders “Forget them, walk with us” he offers. You were a bit taken aback as you didn’t know this fellow Gryffindor well and he already seemed so friendly towards you. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother?”

a laugh came from both Seamus and Dean while Neville chuckled nervously “Impossible, the only bother here is him. Now let’s go before we miss the boats” Dean points to Seamus, who’s expression drops “Your rude” he scoffs.

Dean smiles at him before using his hand to gesture to you to follow him as he led the small group through Hogsmeade.

the entire walk was Dean and Seamus trying to tell embarrassing stories about each other to make the other seem better. Neville would tell you all about what he wanted to learn in Herbology this year.

after awhile they eventually asked you questions about yourself, like- your name and who had ditched you. They were surprised to find out that the golden trio had ditched you. Seamus on the other hand wasn’t, saying how “No one is really golden”

☼-♥-☼

seventh year

fast forward to your final year at Hogwarts and you were still best friends with Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas. You all were no golden trio by any means, more like ‘Menaces To Society’ as Mcgonagall called you.

you weren’t a well behaved student to say the least.

speaking of well behaved “Shut up, shut the hell up!” Seamus whisper shouts as points his wand at Neville who is looking into the dark “But this is such a bad idea!” he whines, rubbing his arm to create some warmth as the night was cold.

“It’ll be fine, only if Dean hurries the hell up“ you say, placing a hand on Neville’s shoulder. He looks at you and nods once, shivering slightly. Smiling, you open the greenhouse door and peak your head inside “Dean, i’m getting frostbite out here!“

you watch as Dean’s head pops up from behind the large table, holding a potted mandrake “Oh i’m so sorry, but your not the one doing all the hard work!” he argues. You roll your eyes “You lost rock, paper, scissors. Maybe stop choosing paper dipshit”

Dean opens his mouth to say something back when you here Seamus groan loudly “Both of you can flirt later, hurry up! Filch will be back around in a few minutes” he snaps at both of you. Holding up a finger to Dean, signalling you could finish your argument in a second, you peak your head back out.

“In what universe was that flirting, Finnigan?“

“You were flirting with your eyes“

“....right, anyway-“ you slowly turn your head back into the greenhouse as Dean walks out, holding two pots of mandrakes, young ones to be exact. “Alright let’s go“ he says. You jump up in your place and clap your hands together “Oh this is going to be beautiful“

“I just hope we don’t get in trouble like last time“ Neville shudders, following behind you all as you made your way through the grass. “Will be fine“ you wave your hand, standing beside Dean as he held the potted mandrakes. “Shit, these are heavy“

“divide and conquer“ Seamus suddenly says as he takes both of the mandrakes from Dean, tucking one under his arm and handing the other to Neville, who happily held it tightly between both of his hands. Dean smiles and stretches his arms, until he hears a pop noise in both.

as you walked, a gust of wind hit all of you, making you shiver. Your dumbass shouldn’t have worn your pajamas out, which was only a black t-shirt with thin dark grey plaid pants. You had shoes on of course, you weren’t that stupid. “Told you to bring a jumper” Dean says in a sing song voice.

you turn your head to your side, scoffing “I’m not cold, i’m perfectly fine” you look him in the eye while he gives you a ‘really?’ look, which meant he knew you were lying. You hated that cute, dumb, knowing face. Without another word, you look forward once more.

Dean moves closer to your side and wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you flush against him as you both walked quietly. You suddenly felt very warm, but most of that warmth came from your own face. “Better?” he whispers, his hand rubbing your arm.

honestly, how did this tall freak not expect anyone to fall for him? For two years you have had a crush on Dean Thomas, but it seemed to always be platonic on his side. He was nice to everyone though, so it was hard to tell if there was any romantic intent behind his actions.

“Much better“

“Hey! Who’s out they’re?! No students out pass curfew! You are in big trouble!“ looking ahead you see the familiar shape of Filch in the distance. The bright lantern covering his face, so you were sure he couldn’t see you all as well. “Scatter!“ you yell and in an instant you all pull away from each other.

this isn’t the first time running into Filch, so you already knew what to do. All of you would run off separately until you couldn’t be seen and just apparate back into the common room. You had been doing it for years and were honest to Godric disappointed he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Hey you get back here!“

as you pull away, you feel Dean’s hand travel down your arm until his fingers slide off yours. You would have loved to have bathed in that moment longer, but the fear of expulsion was too heavy on your mind at the moment. You spotted a pillar and ran for it.

once safely behind said pillar, you pull your wand out that you had safely in your.....i don’t know and apparate away.

☼-♥-☼

you stumble a bit as your transported into the Gryffindor common room, the calming sound of fire cracking on the wood in the fireplace. You were safe. Looking around the dark room, you don’t see Neville or Seamus, but you do see the back of Dean’s head as he’s sat on the sofa in front of the fire.

your eyes narrow as you walk over to the sofa, placing your hands on his shoulders “Hey Y/n” he says, not even taking a glance as you as he chuckles to himself. “How did you know?- Nevermind, where’s Nev and Seamus?” you ask him.

“There setting up the mandrakes, remember?” he explains before reaching up to grab your hands with both of his, pulling them down so your forced into resting your chin against the top of the sofa. He released only one of your hands and brought the other to his mouth, placing a kiss on your palm.

what the fuck?-

“Also I've had your hands on me before, not hard to forget“ he explains. The way he said that made it sound so suggestive if anyone else had been in the room. You were also stunned by the fact he just kissed your hand. This was one of the moments you couldn’t tell if he was being friendly or not.

you could feel his eyes on you, practically burning holes into the side of your face, but you just didn’t have it in you to look at him. Heart racing and your stomach feeling lighter by the second, you felt utterly and completely swooned by the tall Gryffindor boy once again.

“Can you look at me?” you hear him ask, feeling his free hand gently force your face in his direction so your E/c eyes meet with his. “What?“ you ask, trying to mask the fact that you were putty in hands at the moment. Dean didn’t respond, only smile widely as his eyes flicker from your eyes to lips.

he couldn’t be asking to, ya know..right? Before you could question it further Dean began to lean in and you found yourself doing the same “We did it!- whoa, what’s going on here?” you almost snapped your spine at how hard you threw yourself back, moving a good five feet away.

“Nothing!“ you and Dean shout at the same time. Dean folded his arms over his chest, coughing awkwardly into his hand. You watch as Neville steps out from behind Seamus, who’s grin is wider then ever before. “As much as i want to indulge in whatever this is, we have to get to our dorms- like right now“

“What, why?“ you ask, giving him a questioning look. “Neville dropped his Gryffindor tie back at the greenhouse so Mcgonagall and Dumbledore are coming to inspect in the house to see if anyone’s awake“ Seamus sighs, walking forward.

“Good thing it didn’t have my name on it or anything“ Neville smiles sadly before following Seamus to the hall where the dorms were at. “It’s alright Nev“ you send him a warm smile, trying to reassure him. You decided to follow them as well to the dorms “Y/n!“ you hear Dean call out.

thinking fast and stupid, you stretch your arms, letting out a fake yawn “Damn, i’m super tired. I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you push past both Seamus and Neville and speed walk down the hall. You made a beeline down to your dorm and almost ripped your dorm off of it’s hinges trying to open it

but once you do, you take a large step and shut the door behind you

what the fuck just happened?

that night you had laid in bed for almost an hour, thinking about your almost kiss with Dean Thomas. You felt shame, like you had someone forced this situation upon yourself. You liked Dean Thomas yes, but did you imagine that he was going in for a kiss?

eventually when your brain started to hurt too much, you fell asleep without any interruptions that night.

☼-♥-☼

you awoke to the sounds of awful birds chirping outside and roll onto your side, unfortunately though you were already on the edge of your bed and rolled right of the thing, collided with the hard wood floor that made up the ground of your dorm. You knew you should have gotten a damn carpet at that muggle store.

using your elbows, you prop yourself up and push yourself into the sitting position. What a glorious way to start the day you thought before standing on your two feet. Its saturday, which means you didn’t have to get too dressed up just to eat breakfast.

you yawn, not bothering to cover your mouth as you trudge slowly to your closet, swinging the door open. Taking into account that the weather had bit cold recently you pick out a multicolored jumper consisting of brown, beige’s, purple’s, dark blue’s, and whatnot. with a pair of brown overalls.

removing your clothes, you place them in a woven hamper next to the closet, you had taken a shower the previous night before going to bed, but you just ended up sneaking out. Eh- still counts. Once the clothes are on, you walk over to your dresser where your mirror was on the wall and looked in.

you looked tired and like someone who wanted to go back to bed, perfect. Reaching your hand up, you run your hand through your hair, untangling a few knots with your fingers before shaking your head, your hair now looking like in had been through a gust of wind.

also perfect

after that, you go over to the door slipping your shoes on with your feet before turning the knob and opening it. As soon as that wooden door unhinged you remember all the events from last night and internally cringed. God, today was going to be awkward as hell.

stepping out, you shut the door behind you, not bothering to lock it as you never had a reason to before. Gryffindor house was pretty chill with privacy and whatnot, so you weren’t worried about people coming in and taking your things.

☼-♥-☼

walking down the stairs to the dungeons, you had a gleeful smile on your face. See, the whole reason you stole mandrakes is because you currently were in a prank war with the Slytherin house, or to be more specific Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson.

Draco said he could pull better pranks, you said otherwise and that’s pretty much how it started. It had been going on for a few weeks and the mandrakes were your big finale since you knew that ferret couldn’t do anything better. “Oh shit, Theo!” you heard as you took the final step.

you could hear screeching for a few moments before its quickly shut up. Speeding up, you turn the corner to see a group of Slytherins surrounding four passed out students, one of those students being Theodore Nott. “How did mandrakes get all the way down here?” Pansy crossed her arms.

“I don’t-“ Draco spoke, his head turning to spot you with a shit eating grin on “Nevermind“ he exhales before standing up straight and walking over to you “L/n“ he greets, a deadpan expression on his face while you look like you’ve won the lottery.

“Malfoy, i see you got my gift“

“Oh yeah, my friend Theo was just blown away“ he said, rolling his eyes which only makes you feel more victorious. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. It was meant for you” you smile innocently at him. He lets out a bitter chuckle before extending his hand out to you “You win L/n”

you gladly take his hand into yours and shake it “pleasure doing business with you, Malfoy” you say. Draco crack a smile, shaking your hand for a second before then letting go “Surprised to see Thomas isn’t following you, he usually is” he points out.

and there goes a reminder. Your expression visibly dropped “That’s- well, complicated at the moment” your reply spiked Draco’s interest as he leans against the wall “Do tell“ he gestures with his hand to continue. You eye him up and down, your nose cringing.

“Since when did you care about my life?“ you asked, the question sounding a bit harsher then you intended it too. Draco only shrugs “I’m bored, humor me L/n“ you chuckle at his words and shrugged as well. No harm in telling him anything.

☼-♥-☼

“Wow“ Draco breathed, his grey eyes slightly widened as you finished retelling the embarrassing events of last night “And you just ran off? Don’t think that was a good idea” he adds, turning his head to face you as you both leaned on the wall.

you exhale, a solemn look on your face “I know, i’m just not good with confrontation. I curl up into a ball and clam up, like i can’t speak” you explain. Draco nods along, listening to what you had to say “He’s your best friend, been your best friend for years. Talk to him, avoiding it will make it worst”

“Wow, that actually was helpful. You’ve surprised me Malfoy” you give hi a mock astonished look, making him roll his eyes. “Yeah whatever, now go away. I have to help them carry Theo back into the common room“ he pushed off the wall, standing straight.

“Tell Theo i’m sorry when he wakes up“ you turn on your heels and begin to walk down the stone hall, taking in a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine, no worries. Nothing at all.

☼-♥-☼

your first thought was to check the courtyard, it’s where you, Blaise, Neville, and Seamus hung out between classes. It was a good place to start. Stepping outside, you feel the gentle cold breeze nip your face causing a light shiver to run up your spine.

wrapping your arms around yourself you walk along the grass until you spot the familiar tree you all sat under. It instantly brought you back to the first time you had sat under it.

second year

“Found you“

your head snaps to your left where the voice came from. Dean, out of breath and wiping sweat from his forehead. You looked confused as he took a step towards you “You were looking for me?” you asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side.

Dean looks at you like you had just asked a silly question, chuckling “Of course, you seemed upset a lunch as well so i wanted to check up on you” he said, taking a seat next to you in the grass. You avoided looking at him by pulling out blades of grass and ripping them apart.

after an awkward amount of time of silence, mostly on your part, Dean reach for the grass next to your hands and began to pull it out of the earth as well “What’re you doing?” you ask, still looking at the ground. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. We can just sit here if that makes you feel better too”

weirdly enough, it did. Just having him sit there made your bad day feel slightly better. You couldn’t explain it, but his presence alone was comforting and made you feel more at ease. “If that’s what you want of course” he adds, his pinky extending out to tap your hand, just light enough not to make you tense.

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond verbally and nodded a few times. You hear Dean hum as he continues to copy what your doing. You both sat in silence and stayed there for an hour or so, just soaking up each others company.

that was the moment you knew Dean Thomas was a true friend

“Y/n!“ you hear a shout, bringing you out of your wholesome memory and back to reality. Seamus and Neville were running up to you with confused looks on there faces “What?“ you say, meeting them halfway. As soon as you were grabbing distance, Seamus places his hands on your shoulders and shakes you

“What are you doing here!?“ he shouts while you feel as if your brain is about to knock off of its stem and kill you “What’re you talking about? and stop shaking me!“ you yank his hands off of you. Seamus rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath like he’s about to talk a lot, and talk a lot he did.

“So after your almost kiss with Dean he told us by the way, he wanted to talk to you so we told him you’d most likely be in the dungeons giving Malfoy a tongue lashing“ Seamus explained before gasping for air. Neville puts a hand on his mate’s shoulder “He kind of thinks you don’t like him. Never seen him so upset before“

processing on the information you were just given, you thank the both of them and run back into the building. This school was huge, no wonder you didn’t run into Dean on the way back or even see him once. Nonetheless, you were determined to find him.

(Filled with determination- get it? Undertale reference)

☼-♥-☼

it took you a good ten to fifteen minutes to get back to the dungeons. You walked fast paced against the cobble ground until you reached the Slytherin portrait. There stood the familiar faces of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They noticed you instantly giving you a confused look.

“Your boyfriend is looking for you“ Pansy snickered, clearly amused by something. You let of a sigh, a hand running through your hair “Yeah i know, do you know where he went?“ you asked, already tired of walking around this shit school.

just kidding, Dumbledore if you could here there thoughts, they’re kidding

“We told him you were going to potions“ Draco said which floored you because why in Godric’s name would he say that. The Slytherin boy seemed to catch your confusion and gave you a ‘are you dumb?’ look. “Yesterday, in class, you offered to help Snape organize the stockroom?”

oh shit

you let out what can only be described as a sound of frustration as you realized you were going to be murdered by Snape before you could ever find Dean. You wished that you could apparate, but it was against school rules to apparate inside the school, aka as soon as you would do it, it would teleport you to Dumbledore’s office instead.

funny enough you could apparate from outside to inside the school with zero repercussions. The rule was ancient and so was Dumbledore, you had a feeling it wouldn’t change in your life time. “Right, thanks. I have to go” you say and give them a lazy wave.

“Go get your man Y/n! Then tell me all about it!“ you heard Pansy shout as you walk away.

☼-♥-☼

twelve minutes to get to potions. As soon as you pushed open the door you let the string of apologies fly “I’m so sorry Professor Snape, i completely forgot about helping out- Today has been super stressful and-” you were cut off by Snape himself.

“Silence, your....friend already told me all about your little issue as much as i didn’t want to hear it. Your free to deal with your teenage drama as long as it’s away from my classroom” he lifts his hand up, gesturing for you to go away like he requested.

he was surprisingly understanding, which was weird

“Oh um- Thank you, professor. May i ask where Dean said he was off to?“ You asked, fully knowing you might be pushing your luck and his sudden kindness. Snape sighs, dramatically you’d like to add “He didn’t say or he did and i didn’t care enough to listen“

“Right uh, thank you anyway. Goodbye Professor“ you laugh nervously. That quick kindness had run out. Snape only grumbles and you take that moment to walk out the classroom, feeling that little bubble of stress you usually got from talking to Snape fade away.

taking a few steps back you look at the potions door, god you’ve hated that class since first year. Potions were never your strong suit, you were more into astronomy or herbology. Snape never made it any better with his attitude,but he had always been like that.

fifth year was probably the worse

fifth year

it was the beginning of your fifth year and one of your earlier classes was potions. What a dreadful way to start the morning. Today you were instructed to brew a draught of peace, which was currently bringing you anything but peace at the moment.

you just couldn’t understand the instructions. Like at all. It was supposed to be a turquoise blue color when finished, but kept turning a dark purple instead. You only had about half an hour to get it right or you were going to fail your first potions lesson for the year.

at one point you got so frustrated, you slammed the ladle on the table but it was already pretty noisy, so no one really turned there head at the noise. “Someone’s cranky” you heard a snicker beside you, which you knew well enough to know it belonged to Dean Thomas.

“Try frustrated, i have to be the dumbest wizard in the entire wizarding world to not get this“ you sigh, crossing your arms as you stare at the dark purple liquid, the mere sight of it mocked your livelihood. Dean shook his head, stifling some laughter as he grabbed the handles of your cauldron.

“You continue to pout while i go dump this”

pout? you weren’t pouting. You rolled your eyes as he comes back, placing the cauldron back down onto your work space “Alright so you added all the ingredients right, but your stirring it to much and the wrong way“ he spoke as he added all the ingredients back in.

once he tilts the mortar and pestle, pouring the crushed unicorn hair into the liquid he smiles warmly “Alright now grab the ladle” he instructs and you, begrudgingly do so. Dean nods and moves to step behind you. As you go to turn around Dean places his hands on your arms, keeping them in place.

you tense almost instantly as his hands travel down your clothed arms until they rest on your own hands. He’s literally pressed against you, not rough or anything like that though. His head moved off to the side a bit “You stir like this” he begins to move your hand with his in the correct motion.

you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

as he slowly stirred the magical liquid he says something else to you “It’s okay to get frustrated, it’s also okay to ask for help. I’m here if you need me Y/n” he spoke and let go for hand, which suddenly felt a whole lot colder then it did a second ago.

Dean returns back to your side and smiles proudly once he looks into the cauldron “See, easy” he says. You pull out the ladle and look in to see that beautiful turquoise color you had waited to see the entire class period. Thank Godric, actually thank Dean. Speaking of that.

“Thanks Dean, i was about ready to pull out my hair“ you joke, placing your hands on the table. Dean chuckles and places on of his hands on top of yours. You tensed again, feeling light and warm as the pad of his thumb rubs the skin of your hand. “Like i said, i’m here for you, in any and every way possible“

his words made you feel even lighter if that was possible as you tried to contain a bright smile

that was the moment you knew you liked Dean Thomas

you sigh, pulling yourself out of your happy memory. How were you going to find Dean?

☼-♥-☼

late evening

after leaving Snape’s class you, funny enough, kept running into Seamus and Neville who kept pointing you into different directions or places. You were quite literally running around the school like a lunatic. Your current location was the library and library you went.

since you were absolutely terrified of Madam Pince, you made sure you cautiously open the door as you walk in as well as closing it. Looking around, you don’t see any familiar faces which had you already feeling doubtful, but you still had to look behind the tall bookshelves.

you decided to take the left side first and begin to walk through the middle isle with haste as you look around. No, nope, nothing, and disappointed. Jumping off the astronomy tower looked appealing at the moment. Alright, other side. You walked with the same fast pace, checking behind each shelf.

after about four rows, you come face to face with a freckled boy, causing you to jump back “Godric” you put your hand over your heart like an old man about to have a heart attack. “Ron, your ugly face is scaring students” you heard a male voice say.

wait, did he just say Ron?

you take a few steps back, yeah that was them. You first friends at Hogwarts. You saw them almost every week, but haven’t talked to them since your first year at Hogwarts. This was gonna be awkward, you could already tell. “Sorry ‘bout him, I’m Harry and these are my friends Hermione and Ron”

Ron steps back to stand next to Hermione. They all looked at you like your a new person they have never met before. You honestly didn’t know how to react. On one hand, it was kind of funny they didn’t recognize you. On the other hand, it felt kinda shitty.

you force out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I- I’m floored that you don’t remember me and as funny as it is, i’m looking for someone” you say, about to excuse yourself from this mind numbing situation. “Wait! We know you?” Hermione cuts in, raising her hand a bit.

exhaling, you nod “It’s me. Y/n, Y/n L/n” you introduce yourself, like all those years ago. Watching there eyes widen one by one almost made you laugh “Oh my, Y/n. It’s been so long” Hermione smiles nervously. As evil as it was, you were kind of enjoying the awkwardness.

“Yeah it has, lovely to see you lot. Lets get together next decade where you can forget me all over again“ you had to admit, it was kind of mean but you were busy at the moment. “Wait Y/n, can we talk?“ Harry steps towards you, a look of shame on his face. Good.

did you really want to hear some shitty apology? You didn’t want them or blame them either. You were eleven year olds and children loose friends all the time. There wasn’t any deeper meaning, at least to you there wasn’t, but some part of you wanted to know why? Why were you abandoned?

“I have a lot going on right now, so make it quick Potter“

Harry smiles as he gestures for you to sit down at the table they were currently residing in. You follow him and take the seat across from the other three. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all sit down, looking as nervous and anxious as ever while you were tapping your foot against the ground, impatiently.

“We wanted to say we were sorry, for how we treated you in first year“ Harry starts, the other two nodding along. “Can i get a reason? If you didn’t want to be my friend you could of just told me. Instead you left me alone“ you fold your arms over your chest, already wanting this to be over with.

“You changed“ Hermione said. You expression shifted to confusion, scoffing “I changed? How?“ you asked. Godric it was a bad idea to listen to these guys. “You started hanging out with Malfoy, he turned you into some kind of menace. All you two did was pull tricks on each other back and forth“

okay so maybe this wasn’t the first prank war you’ve had with Malfoy

and it wont be the last either

“Seriously, you dropped me because i hung out with Draco? Yeah he’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s just all bark no bite“ you shrug your shoulders, maybe you were bias since you guys had been ‘friends’ for awhile now if you could call each other that.

“He’s a Slytherin“ Ron chimes in, looking as if he’s disgusted to say the word. “Ron” Harry warned, whacking his friends arm. Oh you were so not doing this house variably bullshit. Okay, maybe you had a ‘house prank war’ but that was all in good fun.

“I’m done here, i think i dodged a bullet with avoiding you guys all these years“ pushing off of your chair, you stand up ready to leave. Harry stands up the second you do “Sorry about them and they both can have there own opinions, but i know what we did was wrong and i just wanted to say i’m sorry“

looking at Harry, you could tell he was being genuine. Well at least one of them was. “Thanks Potter, now i have to go find someone” you try to make your escape again when you hear footsteps behind you. Stopping you see Harry at your side “Yes?”

“Who’re you looking for, maybe I've seen them?“ He offers. You assumed he was trying to be helpful as an apology. “Dean Thomas, know him?“ you ask, watching as his eyebrows furrow “Yeah but haven’t seen him- wait, it’s curfew in twenty minutes“

“Yeah, so?“

“He’s a Gryffindor, which means he’s heading back to the common room right this moment“ Harry points out, a light smile on his face. Your eyes widen and you throw your arms around the boy. You feel Harry tense, but still wrap his arms around you “Your a genius Potter“

“It’s common sense?“ he looks confused as you pull away from him. You tell him goodbye and that you two could catch up on a later date.

☼-♥-☼

you push through students on the staircase who were trying to the Gryffindor common room as well. Once you make it to the top, a student in front of you whispers the password “Dilligrout” the portrait opened and a wave of students filed in.

someone shoulder checked you when you made it in yourself, but you were to preoccupied with finding your friend? Crush? Person you had a crush on...yeah that works. All the students who came in had immediately filed down the hall to go to the dorms.

silence took over and once again you were in a empty room, your shoulder dropping a bit “Found you” that familiar voice breathed out. You spin on your feet to see Dean Thomas leaning against the wall, huffing as he reached to wiped sweat that had gathered on his forehead.

“You were looking for me?” you quipped back, obviously joking. Dean seems to catch on rather quickly and flashes a grin “Of course, you seemed upset after last night” he tells you, your expression dropping at the mention of the night before. He notices.

stepping forward, he takes your hand in his, gently leading you to the sofa. That cursed sofa. Once you both take a seat Dean clears his throat, his hand still intertwined with yours “How’re you feeling?” he asked, a worry glint in his eyes. Of course that’s the first question he asked.

“Nervous, anxious, something like that, but also scared“ you admit, while your free hand scratches the side of your neck. “What would you have to scared off?“ Dean had a sympathetic smile on his face, one that you had seen many times before.

you chuckle, thinking that what you were going to say had been the most obvious thing in the world. “That your going to stop being my friend because we almost kissed?” you said, but it sounded more like a question instead of a statement.

a, what you would call dramatic sigh escapes Dean’s mouth “I’m the one who initiated the kiss Y/n. I wanted it because i hoped you wanted the same thing, you do, right?” his voice wavers a bit, his confidence dropping with every word.

“Yes, i have for a long time” you confess. Dean’s smile was a mile long as he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles “I wish we told each other this last night instead on running around to find each other all day” you both laugh at the situation.

“Yeah, now that i think about it. I could of sent you a howler” you say, exhaling loudly. How come you didn’t think of that sooner “Yeah, i guess we both didn’t think much” Dean then scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hand still holding your gently.

not having the courage to speak, you simply sit there as Dean lets go of your hand and cups your face instead. Your breath hitched as you feel his thumbs moving up and down each temple on the side of your head. He still had that dopey smile on his face too.

after what feels like forever, Dean closes the gap between you both, kissing you softly. His head tilts to the left as he continues to kiss you. You swore you could feel everything in you become as light as a feather. Kissing Dean Thomas was something else.

a couple more seconds pass by before he pulls away, a smug grin gracing his face “can we take this to my dorm? We’ve gathered an audience” his eyes glanced to the right of you. Turning your head in his hands, you see Neville and Seamus

“Do you all mind?“

“No, keep going“ Seamus waved with his hand, smiling at you both. Dean rolls his eyes as he stands up from the couch, grabbing your hand to drag you along with him. “We’re so happy it worked out“ Neville had a gleeful look on his face as Dean dragged you past them.

“Try to keep things quiet in there lovebirds!“ Seamus calls out as you and Dean walk down the hall. You scoff, shaking your head. Seamus was something else. Once you both reach Dean’s door, he opens it, allowing you to step inside “No promises!“ he yells before stepping inside himself and shutting it.

covering your mouth, you laugh into the back of your hand until what he said registers in your mind “Wait what?”

☼-♥-☼

Kody- It’s been a hot minute ngl. Um- i’m trying to find a regular schedule update every month, but honestly something called sleep and depression has been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy this fic..requests are open. Anyways, peace.

☼-♥-☼

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sunlightwoo · 3 years

Text

maybe in another life

☀︎ pairing: soulmate!jeonghan x g.n reader x soulmate!wonwoo

☀︎ genre: soulmate au, best friends to lovers au, there is some hints of fluff, but there is like really heavy angst cause of warning major character death,,, but there is hints of a love triangle going on, and twinge of slow burn in terms of lovers to exes to also strangers to lovers

☀︎ wc: 7.1k

☀︎ plot: you think that it’s strange that your soulmate bond is based on the colors that you are able to see. the more that you’re with them, the more present the colors are said to be. however you notice that the color in your life drains more and more away your life and know that it only happens when someone is falling out of love with the other. could that be the reason why you stopped seeing color with him when you thought that you were soulmates?

☀︎ a/n: hey guys!! i know i said that money talks was gonna be my last svt work but i decided to post this cause i was honestly interested in seeing what you guys would think in the seventeen version of this :) but the original version was posted on my birthday with my ults and you can read it right here if you want!!

[ gina is listening to : pinwheel by seventeen ]

“He still hasn’t picked you up yet?”

Your head whipped over to look at Jihoon, your coworker that was finishing up wiping down the last of the tables of the restaurant and you gave him a small smile as you shook your head in response. It had been over an hour since your shift had ended, and usually on days that you’ve had a long shift like today, your boyfriend Jeonghan would have picked up since the busses would not be running that late at night.

“It’s Saturday, he’s probably running a little late at the dance studio today with practice and stuff.” You whisper softly and continue to glance outside the window to see that the rain didn’t want to stop at the fast race it was pouring at.

It wasn’t the first time that your soulmate had been running late from picking you up at work, but you couldn’t blame him. He had been practicing a new choreography that he had been creating with his friends these days and you knew that he was a perfectionist, one that was willing to practice until all of his limbs fell off to make sure that he had gotten all of the moves down in one go.

That was how you met him in the first place, since a mutual friend of yours had introduced you both to one another. It didn’t take long for you both to realize that you were each other’s soulmates until you noticed that your soulmate mark was color, since your life had always been monochrome until you spent more and more time with him. He was the one person that had brought the vibrant colors into your life, and you knew that you were soulmates.

Even though he had often been busy at the dance studio that he was often found at, he always made time for you to go on the little, but meaningful, dates that you always treasured. You remember falling in love with Jeonghan slowly, but surely, as he had been nothing but caring and acting as though you were close to one another long before you had realized that you were soulmates.

And you loved him.

The sound of a car going off brought you back to reality as you notice the car headlights shining past the window and you recognize it to be Jeonghan’s car. After bidding your goodbyes to Jihoon and grabbing your stuff, you tried to outrun the rain that poured as you had gotten inside the car to see Jeonghan holding a bouquet of flowers in front of himself towards where you were looking at him with a surprised and curious expression.

“What’s the occasion, Yoon?” You teased as you took the bouquet into your own hands, raising your eyebrows at him while he was already giving you a playful look on his face.

“I can’t spoil you once in a while?” He playfully retorts and you jokingly shake your head in response, just as he lets out a quiet laugh and held your hands into his before gently kissing your knuckles, “I just wanted to get them for you, because I know we haven’t been spending, much time together even if we are under the same roof.”

He wasn’t wrong; these last few weeks have been more off than you had felt it where it was days like today that made you think about how distant you were with Jeonghan, compared to when you first started dating. You remember the vibrant colors that flew in when you first met him, remembering that the colors of the sky when it rained were gloomy, but still more colorful than you had imagined with monochrome, and since then you remember all of your colors being more and more full of love and illuminance.

“I love you, Jeonghan.” You say with a small smile on your face, hand still in his as he started to drive once again while you were on your way back home and the three words that were reciprocated from his own lips made you feel full of love.

“I love you, too.”

Or it should’ve, as you weren’t sure what to think of it as you drove home in comfortable silence with your hand being held in his on the gear shift and your other holding the bouquet of flowers. However, what you didn’t notice until that night was that the starry sky looked a little dimmer as you looked out the car window, the moonlight that you had grown loving for its brightness became more dull than what you remembered seeing at night.

You were currently sitting on your couch with your phone in one of your hands, humming to yourself as the other was brushing through the soft locks of Jeonghan’s hair in your lap. The two of you had decided on a lazy day and were currently waiting for your takeout that you had earlier to arrive as today was one of the few weekends that both of your schedules had synched up for a date night at home, and you were excited for it.

Despite the fact that you had thought about the idea of the color draining from the night weeks ago from the sky when you looked outside, all of the remaining colors of your life remained vibrant as you weren’t as worried as you thought it to be. You continue to go through your phone and hum when suddenly a giggle erupts from Jeonghan that you look at him confusedly for a moment, when his eyes locked onto yours in a split second as a small smile paints his face.

“Is there something on my face?” He muses and makes a weird expression that made him look too exaggerated to you as you playfully hit his chest in retaliation, shaking your head in response as you smiled back at him.

But he had never giggled around you like that, not in a while and you were confused as to what might’ve initiated it now.

“No, but I’m guessing one of your friends texted something funny to you that you giggled?”

You watched as his face reddens for a moment at your words, and you were even more curious at what he might’ve been looking at on his phone that made you wonder what he might’ve been giggling about. However, it seems as though he might’ve caught onto your thoughts when he shakes his head in response and suddenly shows you a picture of who you recognized as some of his friends, Wonwoo and Mingyu from the stories that you’ve heard, messing around at the studio they danced at.

“They’re just being dumb again,” He chuckles and sits up for a moment just as he mentions the both of their mere existences, “Reminds me, Wonwoo is actually coming over to give back the spare clothes that he borrowed the other day because he tore one of his other clothes the other day.”

For almost a split second you were nervous; you had never met any of Jeonghan’s friends except for Jihoon since you worked together, but in the three years that you had dated and been soulmates with him, you had never met all of his friends that he’s mentioned before. You were pretty sure that they knew of you, considering there were moments that he had come home playfully complaining about how they teased him about your existence, but you were also amused and confused at the very thought of never introducing you to his friends.

Was he embarrassed of having you as his soulmate?

Just as you were about to speak up, the sound of the doorbell rings as you close your lips shut, watching Jeonghan leave from his spot on the couch to grab the front door as it leaves you with your thoughts once more. It drowned out the loud chatter that came from the duo that must’ve been at the door and the more that you had thought about him never introducing you to his friends, the more you wondered how much of your relationship was actually real considering the fact that these last few months, or almost an entire year, you had been having dates in your own home when you were able to have the time to.

“Prove it that your soulmate is real, Jeonghan.” You hear someone say at the door, and you could only assume that it must’ve been Wonwoo, when suddenly the view of the two entering your living room is present in your line of vision.

You smile at the new individual that you had yet to introduce to and let out a small wave, when you notice how he had stood there with a nervous, but also an unknown expression on his face. On the other side of the spectrum stood Wonwoo with his mind suddenly in places that should not be in the areas that they were in.

When he had first heard about his best friend having a soulmate of three years, he wasn’t sure if they were even real because even though they had been friends since high school, never had Wonwoo once seen a picture, or even met the said soulmate that Jeonghan speaks so highly of. However, now that he was standing in your living room seeing that you were real, he feels like he had been struck with cupid’s love arrow mixed in with all the possibilities of soulmates even existing.

All because his mark of the red string was tied to your pinky finger, even though you were already someone else’s soulmate.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Wonwoo, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You softly say and he nods in response, just when he hands over the bag that was slung over his shoulder over to Jeonghan, before turning back towards where you both were standing.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too. Y/N, right?” He reiterates, making you nod in response and think about how you feel just a twinge of guilt from the fact that maybe you overthinking it all earlier and doubt Jeonghan shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

“I shall take my leave, since I am assuming you guys are having a night to yourselves, but don’t let me stop you.” He chuckles awkwardly, turning to greet his friend goodbye and leaves out of your apartment before you could even let out a goodbye, however you thought that maybe you should get to know him more considering that both him and Jeonghan were well friends.

It was one of your goals that you plan on accomplishing and you could only hope that maybe you could understand why the color that was draining from your life was becoming more and more evident.

“Hey, where are you heading out to?”

The sound of Jeonghan’s voice ringing out from behind you makes you turn around from where you were standing at the front door and you noticed how the colors that were in your vision were duller as his neon pink hair that you knew he had recently dyed became more monochrome. You didn’t want to jump to any more conclusions since the last time that you did had ended up where you both didn’t talk for almost a week and it was because you were scared of what was yet to come.

“I’m just going to grab some lunch with Wonwoo. I thought you had to help Hoshi with the choreography today?” You ask as there was a small hum that escaped his lips when he closed the water bottle in his hand with its cap and you wondered why the small glance that he was giving you sent chills down your spine.

“I was going to get ready, but you’re going to hang out with Wonwoo again?” He replies to your question, and you nod in response just as you stood your ground from where you were still standing at the door.

For the past several weeks, you had been hanging out with Wonwoo on the days that you knew Jeonghan would be busy on your free days as you wanted to be friends with him, given the fact that he was Jeonghan’s best friend. However, with the price of somehow spending time with Wonwoo apparently had the cost of the other being more distant, as you found him staying at the dance studio longer than he usually would stay, even if it was later into the night.

Along with the distance that was created between you and Jeonghan, the colors that you once adored while being with him continuously became duller and you knew what it was. You could tell that something was wrong with your soulmate bond with him, and you didn’t want to make the same conclusions that you made the last fight you both had, but who were you to judge when all the color in your life was slowly draining out?

The sound of a car horn brings you out of your stare down with Jeonghan and you watch as he disappears back into the kitchen without another word, leaving a small pang in your heart that left you unsettled just as you decided to walk out the front door. You notice how Wonwoo was giving you a small smile by the time that you had reached his car and mumbles for you to seatbelt just as he starts up the car again.

From Wonwoo’s end, he knows that you were soulmates since he could never ignore the red string that was connecting his pinky to yours. However, he also feels guilty knowing that you were oblivious to that information, along with the fact that you were also somebody else’s, his best friend’s. He doesn’t know when he would ever confess to you that you were soulmates, because he knows that you would probably pick Jeonghan anyways because of how long you’ve been together as a fated pair.

He never would’ve wished it upon himself to be the person to break a soulmate bond, even if it was for his own selfish needs.

Until then, the red string felt like a burning reminder that he almost could’ve had a happy ending, if he had met you sooner. The thoughts of him constantly practicing how to tell you that your soulmates haunted him, as he could never find the right words to say them, which was why his first resort was to ignore and push you out of his life, if you weren’t so insistent on wanting to be friends in the first place.

That was something that he had regretfully, but also selfishly took upon himself. He didn’t want to get close to you because he’s scared of the heartache that comes with being rejected by a soulmate. He knows that those heartaches are known to be deadly to people that yearned for a soulmate, like him, and there were ways for him to get rid of his bond before it was too late, but he also knew that it was unfair to both you and him if he were to sever the red string, being warned that he would never have a soulmate again if he cuts it.

Which was why he chose the selfish way out and continued to get closer to you just as friends, knowing that you were Jeonghan’s soulmate and not his as the two of you were currently grabbing some lunch at a nearby burger and boba joint.

The two of you had planned to come here for days, since the minute that you both heard that it opened closeby to where you worked. Despite the fact that it was raining outside again, you still made sure that today was the day that you got lunch together, because it was the only other time that you knew that you were free before you were swamped with life responsibilities once more.

“The boba is really good here, I think I have a new favorite place now,” You smiled as the cold cup in your hand filled your taste buds with a delicious sweet flavor from the drink in your hands, “You didn’t have to pay for today though. I’ll have to owe you for next time.”

Wonwoo shakes his head at your words with a smile on his face just as he puts down the burger that was in his hands, taking a moment to finish chewing before he could speak again. If anybody were to look at you both from the way that you were unknowingly looking at the other, they might assume that the two of you were on a date, and you couldn’t help but think about Jeonghan again as there was a flash of a frown that appears on your face until you remember that you weren’t out with him right now.

“It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to pay me back, today’s my treat, remember?”

You do remember, as the last time you guys talked about grabbing lunch was the day that you and Jeonghan fought as he walked out the front door to cool off. That night you had called Wonwoo to see if the latter had arrived at his best friend’s apartment, in which he did, making you relieved as he had asked you for your side of the story when Jeonghan had fallen asleep in his guest room. You had fallen asleep to reassuring words from him that the two of you would figure it out in the meantime, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Wonwoo’s words left a warmer feeling in your chest more than usual knowing he still has yet to meet his soulmate.

Was it normal?

“Wonwoo, what’s your soulmate bond, if you don’t mind me asking?” You say while crossing your arms on top of the table, curious as to what the latter’s bond was because he had never once mentioned it in your presence whenever you two had met.

“It’s the red string.” He replies, suddenly growing nervous at how you were already asking about his bond, unsure of how he was going to go at it now that he was caught off guard at your sudden question about it.

“By any chance, do you know where they might be?” You ask, now even more curious about the possibility of him finding his soulmate pretty soon if he was connected to his soulmate by a string that is known to appear if they’re closeby, however Wonwoo knows that he shouldn’t bluntly say it.

“I do know where they are, but I found out too late, because they already found their soulmate that isn’t me.” He grimaces, noticing how the sudden curiosity that was in your eyes reduces to now an expression that left questions in both your minds as the two of you now sat in complete silence.

And maybe the both of you realized something that you shouldn’t have known, because the rain outside that was downpouring became louder than the ringing that was in your ears from your pounding.

Maybe this was a mistake.

You were now living in constant fear, but not for the reasons that you had thought it would be because of. It was another rainy day, but this time in mid-August as the colors of your life around you almost matched the grey and gloomy clouds that were storming above you. The sound of your heart constantly pounding in your chest was making you nervous every time that you woke up next to Jeonghan, unsure of whether or not the breaking point of your relationship will actually end.

You couldn’t even remember when you had last exchanged I love yous.

Your stomach churns at the mere thought of an empty feeling that used to be so filled with love and care, but now all you could ever feel around Jeonghan was the constant worry of whether or not he still loved you. Did he even still love you, you think to yourself as the reasons why the colors draining from your vision erupted in your mind.

They would only leave if one of you had lost the love for the other, but you didn’t want to think that Jeonghan didn’t love you anymore. You knew that he always loved everyone, platonically and romantically in your case, with his entire being to the point where he would always be willing to put their needs before his own. Could it be any different that he stopped loving you as the distance between you both grew deeper and farther?

The sound of the front door being opened and slammed shut makes you look away from where you were working on a new menu for the cafe, only to see an upset Jeonghan walk straight past you and into the kitchen as you were suddenly confused at the sudden act.

“Is everything okay, Jeonghan?” You called out to him quietly and just as the words had left your lips, he reappeared from the kitchen with an exhausted look on his face before speaking up.

“Can we seriously not do this tonight? I’m really not in the mood to argue or talk about it all.” He snaps and you felt taken aback from the sudden anger that was clearly evident in his words and at the tip of his tongue as you crossed your arms in front of him to stand your own ground.

“What’s your problem-”

“You, you’re my problem and I hate it.”

The three words that left his mouth leaves a heavy feeling into the atmosphere as the feeling of your heart grew heavier by the minute. There were definitely words that were waiting to be said as the two of you stared at the other, one with frustration in their eyes and tears filling the other. However, you weren’t sure what else to say, because you had never thought that you would suddenly hear him say that you were a problem to the burdens in his life.

“What problem am I to you, then, if all I’ve been doing is try to save the dying relationship that we’ve been avoiding?” You press, already hearing the rising tone of your voice from the fact that you were growing hurt from what he was saying, unsure where all of his thoughts had come from but you were also almost sure of where it was going to go, and you wanted to wait for the right moment to ask him.

“Everyday when I wake up next to you, the colors from my life start to drain and I know that it’s the living guilt that I created for the both of us-”

“Then when did you stop loving me, Yoon Jeonghan?”

It’s silent again as his throat suddenly becomes dry at your question, his frustrated expression from earlier suddenly falling short as his eyes were now starting to avoid your pained ones. He knows he had started the fire this time around, not knowing how to deal with the almost monochrome vision that he had been experiencing the last few months, but he couldn’t let it go if he were to lie to you about when he had first stopped loving you, because that night was when he felt it that you also stopped loving him as well.

“The first downpour, when I gave you those flowers.”

Neither of you talked as you felt your heart pound even louder than it was earlier in your chest, but you weren’t even sure what else to say when you suddenly think of all of the fights that have piled up and climaxed to this exact point. The signs were all there, and you felt as though you were foolish enough to not realize that it wasn’t even healthy to stay knowing that there was something wrong in the first place when you first noticed the first wave of colors vanish.

Rather than saying anything, you grabbed your phone from where it was sitting on the couch and put on your shoes before leaving past the front door with a slam behind you. Despite the fact that there was a heavy rain outside, you didn’t care as you felt like you were being suffocated if you were to stay in that room with him any longer, and you allowed for your legs to let you run to wherever they wanted you to take you to.

That place somehow ended up being Wonwoo’s apartment after running in the rain for almost half an hour.

Your hand was raised to knock on the door, the thought of him possibly being busy past your mind as he opens the door with a confused look on his face, until he realizes that you were shivering drenched from head to toe. After dragging you inside, he takes it upon himself to grab some extra clothing and blankets so that you could dry off, but he was concerned at the way that you had stood in the middle of his living room with no words leaving your lips to explain why you had run in the pouring rain.

“I think me and Jeonghan just broke our soulmate bond.”

With those words hanging in the atmosphere of Wonwoo’s living room, there was a broken sob that already slipped past your lips as your knees buckled from beneath you, making you kneel with your head low crying with your arms hugging yourself. You were definitely feeling the immense pain that came with the slight sever of your soulmate bond and you weren’t sure what was even worse, the fact that you might never have another soulmate again or the actual heartbreak itself.

“I-”

“Can I wash up in your bathroom, Wonwoo? I don’t want to get sick in your own home.” You mutter almost inaudibly, not wanting to talk about it with him when you notice how he nods just slightly, before handing you an extra towel and the spare clothes that he had earlier for you to wear.

By the time that you were alone in the bathroom with your thoughts in the shower, you could feel the tears from earlier still stream down your face, but there was nothing else except for a numbing pain that came with them as you washed up. You hated the feeling of the heartache that came along with the fact that the person you had thought was your soulmate wasn’t the person, and now you weren’t sure what else to do.

It was when you finally dried yourself off and got dressed that the little bit of color that you once still had suddenly became monochrome and your heart sank into your stomach. A life that was once filled with color, that you were so used to in the past few years was now so easily gone as you were now greeted with the shades of blacks, whites and greys again, and you thought that maybe it was finally concluded that your relationship from fate was finished.

You walk out of the bathroom and head back to the living room to where you last saw Wonwoo, but it sounded as though he was in the middle of a call with someone, making you wonder who might’ve been calling since it was close to midnight. It wasn’t until you had gotten closer that he finished up the call and made eye contact with you, however there was a solemn look on his face that made you feel uneasy, since you had never once seen him in this scenario where he had looked like he was hit with bad news.

And it was.

“Hoshi called from the hospital,” He whispers quietly as you noticed that there were tears in his eyes this time around, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and you could feel a lump in your throat with newly fresh tears that were already threatening to leave your eyes once again.

“Jeonghan passed away in a car accident.”

A little over a week passes by.

You were currently collecting your thoughts and leaving the funeral home where Jeonghan’s funeral was being held, heart feeling heavy as you were slowly walking back to your car in silence. There were many things that you wanted to say to his family, ones that made you want to apologize a million times for not being enough for him, but you also have heard his side of the story from Hoshi the night that it all happened, because he was on the phone with Jeonghan seconds before the accident.

There was something that made you feel sick as you sat in the passenger seat of your car, waiting for Wonwoo as you noticed something out of the corner of your eye; a speck of color. You weren’t sure how it could’ve gotten there as you were pretty convinced that the universe wouldn’t be able to give you another soulmate so soon, and why would they when you had lost touch of all color as soon as Jeonghan passed?

The sound of a car closing beside you makes you turn to see Wonwoo, who had the keys in his hand, in which he was already looking back at you with a curious, but also concerned look.

“Are you okay?”

Those three words felt heavy like a lump in your throat as you wondered whether or not you should answer it with the utmost sarcasm that you can spare, or the truth. In the last week of mourning, Wonwoo had always been the one to check up on you despite the fact that he had also been mourning in his own time, the loss of his best friend feeling unbearable, but he didn’t want to go through the pain alone.

It was cruel of the universe to take him away from you, Wonwoo thinks as he remembers holding onto your shaking figure the day that Hoshi had broken the news to him and his heart aches at the memory of you looking helpless. He hated how much you were in pain for the last few days, where it was hard for him to get you to eat meals and sleep during proper hours when you weren’t crying, but he knew that you also felt bad for having him around; yet somehow he didn’t mind it.

“I can see a bit of color today,” You whisper quietly, turning away to look out the window of the car and it stops, just in time as there was a slight hue of red that you were able to see from the traffic light that makes you not want to meet his eyes.

Wonwoo’s heart was now pounding in his chest and there was a feeling of dryness that was suddenly in his throat, words caught up in it as he wasn’t sure where he could even step in to tell you what he had been dying to tell you the last few months. The red string on his finger felt like it was tightening by every second that he was with you, but he wasn’t sure how you would feel about it, especially after the events of today.

However, it was you who had started to connect the dots, seeing as though the more that you have been spending time with him, the more hues of warmer and eventually cooler colors start to show up again in your vision. The only thing was that you knew about the various types of bonds, where the same person would not get the same bonds twice for different people, making you question what the actual bond might be.

“Wonwoo, I want you to tell me the truth… Are you also my soulmate?”

The light turns green and Wonwoo drives again, this time the tension that was between you both growing heavy as you were waiting for his response, when all he wanted was to buy some more time. He didn’t want to tell you the truth now, not like this as you were regaining color into your sight again, but it was almost like when you had asked him that question, his pinky had burned from the string that made him almost flinch at the pain it had inflicted onto him, which was why he had pulled over to the side of the road so that you can talk, without any other distractions towards any of you.

“Are you able to see where my red string ends?” He whispers to you quietly, in which you shake your head in response, wishing that you could in order to ease your stumbling thoughts, but there was nothing as he takes a couple moments to collect his thoughts and takes a deep breath to himself.

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth when we first talked about it, Y/N.”

There was a small smile on your face, one that was on your face that expressed both pain and almost relief that his soulmate was nearby and that you weren’t going to be soulmate-less. You remember the one day that you had lunch with him when he mentioned who his soulmate was, but you didn’t think that it would be you, making your stomach churn at how guilty you felt knowing that you actually had two soulmates that existed right in front of your eyes.

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s not your fault that all of this happened. If it was meant to be, then I guess everything leading up to now was meant to happen…” You breathed out, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes when he suddenly reached over to hold your own hands into his, “But I’m going to need some time to just let this sink in. I want to be sure that it’s you, okay?”

He nods in response, feeling almost as if a weight had lifted off of his shoulders and there was the urge that he was holding back to just hold you into his arms right then and there in his arms. Time, he thinks to himself as he knew that it was also a big block as to whether or not your possible relationship could continue to blossom into something more, which was why when he had started the car back up and started driving again, he can only think of the best thinking to make sure that you two could keep going with what you had, and to him it was to bring laughter and teases to make you at least feel better for the time being.

“Wonwoo, what if we did this-“

“We say that we’re soulmates right now and kiss.” He teases, making you look at him with an amused look but shake your head in response with your hand still in his as you wonder where the sudden burst of energy had come from despite the moment that you had earlier.

“Wonwoo, no-“

“We officially become soulmates eventually,” He jokes and watches how there is a glint of sparkle in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed present before when he glances over to look at you, but he doesn’t push it as he decides to just keep your distance temporarily, “You’re not saying no, love, you have to say something.”

You thought about it for a moment, thinking that maybe playing the long game with him wouldn’t be too bad as you knew that maybe this was a sign that could test to see if he was actually your soulmate. Colors may be one thing, but would you also eventually see the red rope that he has been seeing the past few years of dealing with it?

“How about we play the long game?” You propose, looking at him with a small smile as he raises an eyebrow at your words of waiting a bit with him, “We see how the next year or so goes, and if more color appears on my end, then we’re soulmates. If not, then we can just overthrow the universe and see what happens then.”

“So it’s not a rejection then?” He whispers hopefully, suddenly feeling nervous at the fact that you weren’t opposed to the idea of him being your soulmate and feels his heart pound louder in his chest as he watches you nod in response.

“I think I knew back then that I was connected to you at some point, Wonwoo, with or without the red string visible to my eye.”

There was a shaky breath that left your lips as you finally felt a sudden weight lifted off your chest, seeing as though you were somehow finding your own way to move on from Jeonghan’s passing. It wasn’t ideal, considering it was by testing the waters to see if Wonwoo was actually your soulmate, or if it wasn’t real since you weren’t even sure of what was happening in the moment, but you knew something was there.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks almost teasingly, and there was a smile that coats your lips, one that you haven’t been able to express in the past few days but somehow with him it almost came naturally because of how calming his aura came to be around you.

“Maybe during another downpour, we’ll see what happens.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me head out early it means a lot.”

You look up from where you were currently cleaning up behind the counter of the glass case that was once filled with delicious sweets, giving Jihoon a small smile in response as you waved him off.

“It’s not a problem, Jihoon. Besides, you better not be nervous because anybody who says no to marrying you will regret it.” You teased, watching the male stand at the closest table to the counter of your co-owned cafe blush a bit at your words.

“Yeah but… it’s raining hard out there tonight. Will you be able to get home dry?” He asks in which you nod in response, just as another individual has entered right on cue like it was meant to happen.

“He’s here to take me home, just go propose to your soulmate already.” You grinned, watching as Jihoon gives you a soft smile and leaves before he can get caught in the rain tonight.

With an amused look on the latter’s face, your eyes met with Wonwoo’s, who had been standing against the counter that you were currently cleaning. There was an umbrella in his hand, along with a familiar jacket that you must’ve forgotten to take with you, but he brought it anyway because he knew that you would’ve gotten cold from the rain.

“You could’ve gotten sick, you know. That wouldn’t be good on any of us.” He teases and you give him a playful look, not wanting to be bothered with the jacket when in a split second, you felt his arms wrap around your waist swiftly, chin on your shoulder as he was swaying both of your bodies side to side.

Two years have passed since you remember talking about the effects of a downpour with him, the sight of it making you feel various emotions as you stared at the red string tied at the end of your pinky of your left hand that was almost parallel to the ring on your ring finger on your right. After opening up your new co-owned cafe with Jihoon months after you and Wonwoo decided to play the long game, the rush of colors came along with that new success as you knew that it was for all the times that you have spent with him.

Every downpour and daylight that led to the very moment made you feel grateful that you made the decision to play the long game, because the promise ring that came with the downpour the night you both kissed felt like sparks. You probably would never forget how realizing that he was your soulmate felt, because it was the same electricity and love that overwhelmed you like you had when you first found out about Jeonghan.

“Okay, let’s go home you big baby.” You giggled, shaking your head at his playful banter and took the jacket from his hands over your shoulders, before grabbing your keys to lock up the cafe for the night.

The two walk into the city with peace on your mind, the gentle downpour highlighted perfectly the illuminated city buildings that were around you both as you walked to your shared home together, and you wouldn’t want to have it either way. Whether it was a day with rain or sunshine, you knew that it couldn’t be too bad as long as you had someone with you with their hand in yours.

“Do you think he’s watching us, from up there?” Wonwoo suddenly mumbles softly, your hand in his as the sound of the soft drops of the rain hitting your umbrella resonates from on top of you guys and you hummed in response, nodding as you smiled and kissed his hand gently.

“I think he’d be happy that his best friend is the one to save me from being soulmate-less for the rest of my life, instead of someone that I could be with that might hurt me.”

“I don’t think I could ever want to intentionally hurt you, Y/N, or in any other life. You know that, right?” He says, joking slightly to relieve the small tension that was starting to rise, but you knew it was both of your worries that were talking and you couldn’t blame him.

The tomorrow is unpredictable and you weren’t sure what could happen to any of you by then.

“I know Wonwoo, and I know that you love me, like I love you.” You reply and suddenly you are pulled into his arms, hands cupping your cheeks as he places a soft kiss on your lips as you kiss him back and smile against his own.

There were small bursts of giggles that came from you at the flustered feeling of him spontaneously kissing you, but the shimmer in his eyes said otherwise as you knew that even though the entire universe was held in them, they were only meant for you to see. A galaxy that was meant to be lost in, but somehow you knew right where you were as you were both standing underneath a shared umbrella on a night of downpour, but this time it was flushed with colors and vibrant illuminations that made you feel ignited especially with him.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

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novantinuum · 3 years

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Words: 1.3K~

Summary: His family’s not present, the third time he runs away. They never see the creature he becomes.

Early corruption AU.

I’m back! Future updates are likely to be slower as I am starting a new job soon, but at very least I have now settled into my new home. I share some writer’s meta on the AO3 version.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

____

“So, I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinking,” Amethyst begins one day, propping her chin against the raised lip of the lava pool as she lounges on the floor at the center of the temple’s burning room, which they’ve started to use as their meeting space again.

Pearl— standing beside one of the lower branches of crystal pipes— tiredly glances her direction, nodding for her to speak. Even Garnet’s head tilts in interest, which is quite an accomplishment given her recent uncharacteristic silence. She suspects that she’s been busying herself scouring through whole galaxies of possibilities, although she’s not sure what good that will do without any reasonable intel to guide that vision. It’s been well over a week and a half since Steven’s gone missing, and beyond the existence of what they suspect is a corrupted Gem and footprints leading towards the water, they have no further clues. No inklings as to where Steven might have disappeared to, no hits from Greg’s posters, not even any leading tips from Homeworld or any of the outlying Gem-inhabited planets. And as for this particular creature... they’ve only met a single eyewitness. A human, who briefly caught its silhouette against the backdrop of sunrise. Perhaps if it ran further inland it would’ve tripped one of their old corrupted Gem surveillance sensors, but they never placed any in the oceans. They barely have any means to survey the oceans.

“I’ve been talkin’ to all sorts of people the past few days, right?” Amethyst says, widely gesturing as she rolls onto her back. “All Steven’s friends. People in town who knew him pretty well. And pretty much everyone agrees that he was actin’ pretty weird these past few months. Sadie described him as overly-tense. I called up Lars on his ship, and he kept saying that he was genuinely worried about his mental health, or whatever. Greg told me the same thing. And Connie. And basically everyone else.”

Pearl rhythmically flexes her fingers in and out of a fist against her side, her features rapidly curling into a scowl. “And what does that have to do with his disappearance?”

“Uh, potentially everything?” she snips back, throwing her hands in the air above her. “Y’guys, you’ve been making so many assumptions, but we barely know anything! You can’t just blindly throw out the idea that the whole corrupted Gem thing and Steven are linked without at least considering it.”

She grimaces, not even bothering to filter out the full intensity of her bitterness in the audience of such a ridiculous, illogical notion. “Amethyst, we’ve talked about your little ‘theory’ already. And everyone agreed that it’s impossible.”

“And yet it’s true that Steven has defied the impossible before,” Garnet comments suddenly, adjusting her visor.

“Are you defending her?” Pearl gasps, turning towards her old friend with her mouth agape with shock.

She crosses her arms, evidently unbothered by the weight of her subtle betrayal as she lounges back against the entryway. “I’m not defending nor rejecting, merely acknowledging a possibility.”

“Yeah, see?” the younger Gem chimes right back in, quickly pushing herself to her feet to rise to her full height. (Which blessedly— if she’s aiming for intimidation— isn’t much.) “Garnet gets it! Steven’s different than us. Always has been. His powers just do what whatever the hell he’s feeling, right? He feels happy, he floats. He feels spooked, bam! Bubble. He feels like an old man, he literally turns into one. And recently, it seems like he’s been feeling pretty crappy, which probably wasn’t helped by us getting all up in his business after he crashed the van.”

She squints. “Is this going anywhere?”

“Yes,” Amethyst stresses, peering right up at her, her eyes flaring with an urgency and passion Pearl admittedly hasn’t seen her wielding in quite some time. “Because I also talked to Jasper the other day. And she gave me the last piece of the puzzle I needed.”

The quartz steps back to address them both, hands nervously fidgeting with the frayed stitching of her missing sibling’s wool jacket.

“I gotta admit, this isn’t easy news, but it has to be shared.” She inhales tightly, briefly closing her eyes as she does so. “I’m pretty sure the reason Steven had her in the bathroom is that he was trying to heal her with the diamond essences he keeps there. Because he shattered her, in a duel.”

Pearl freezes. The kinder reality she’s stubbornly nurtured within her mind ignites and burns to cinders in an instant, hard light thrumming through the thin circuitry of her extremities at such an unimaginable pace that her form barely manages to keep up with the strain. She nearly crumples to her knees upon the sheer anguish of the revelation, only narrowly catching her fall to remain upright. Across the room, Garnet appears to be on the brink of splitting apart. She... shards, her primary instinct screams for her to violently discard every last bitter tasting word Amethyst has spoken into the furthest recesses of her mind, to rot and decay there for the rest of this cursed eternity, and yet still her picture perfect memory chooses to taunt her with details of the recent past... with the hauntingly damning fact that— when she checked the bathroom after watching Steven warp away, the last moment any of them laid eyes on him— the bottles of diamond essence had indeed been sloppily spilled into the bathtub.

“Her words, mind you, not mine,” Amethyst continues, no amount of stabilizing calm in her tone able to mask the slight tremor under the surface. “You can ask her yourself, if you want.”

“No,” she whispers, hot tears budding in her eyes as she presses her hands to her mouth. “That’s not what happened, it can’t be...”

“So, returning to my theory, you have a kid who’s already feeling terrible, someone whose powers do whatever he’s feeling. A diamond. And then he makes the worst possible mistake: he shatters someone. Accident or not, it don’t matter. Because maybe then... he starts feeling like a monster. Becomes a monster.”

“No,” she shakes her head vehemently. “No, no. Corruption doesn’t work that way, you—“

“Like, think about it!” Amethyst interrupts, striding towards her again. “Really think about it! All we know for sure is—“

“Amethyst, you have to STOP, this—“

“—corruption was caused by the Diamonds, but besides tha—“

“—you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking abo—“

“—how it actually works is like a total mystery!”

“NO!” she explodes, plunging the room around her into a dreadful silence. “You weren’t there, but I WAS!!” The burdens of her personal history grow heavier still as she jabs a decisive finger square at the center of her chest, continuing her impassioned tirade with water trailing down her cheeks in thin rivulets all the while. “I watched as that horrid corrupting light slammed against the surface, nearly obliterating any living Gem in its path, I watched as my friends and allies lost all control over their forms and became a twisted shadow of their former selves, I watched all of that!! So you don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t know about corruption!”

Amethyst’s expression sobers considerably in the audience of her outrage. Pointedly, as if expecting rescue, she turns her gaze to Garnet, who has her arms hugged around her middle as if holding herself in one piece. Quite honestly, after the horrid news they’ve just become privy to, she probably is.

“We should move on to a new subject,” the fusion states frankly, once again avoiding any clear stance on the topic. “This is clearly making Pearl very upset.”

The quartz’s eyes alight in clear indignation. “Y’know what? Fine,” she spits, shoving her hands in her pockets and storming towards the doorway. “If both of you are gonna be that sensitive, I’ll take my ideas somewhere else. But just for the record?” she says, whirling back to face them mere inches before passing through the temple’s threshold. “The reason Steven keeps running away is staring back at us in the mirror. You just refuse to see it. And that’s not my problem.”

#su #su future #pearl #amethyst #garnet #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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writing-frenzy · 3 years

Text

Seer!Airplane + Harem AU

Brain: Let’s give SQH a Harem :D

Me: SQH doesn’t know what to do with himself, he wouldn’t know what the fick to do with a harem :|

Brain: :D of course, the man doesn’t realize he even has one.

Me:... wut

Brain: And here is the totally new AU drabbled and noted out for how it happens~

....

So, my brain gave me this, so I hope to infect others with it as well.

Ever since Airplane (Shang Huan), was young, he’s always had strange dreams and an interesting ability with words and languages. Not to mention just how he always seemed to know certain things, simple really, like how he knew to bring an umbrella one sunny day that wouldn’t remain that way, to even what paths to take to avoid the bullies in his life. He’s grown this way, never noticed it was strange or unusual, and with parents more focused on tearing each other apart and ignoring any memories of when they were together, Airplane figures it’s just like the rest of his anxieties and worries, though at least the knowing can get him out of being beaten up or a perfect sale at the supermarket.

(The nightmares aren’t worth it; nameless amounts of people, that if he looks too hard at, he can know their entire backstories and futures no longer possible, cut short for blood and sport and greed.)

It is only one day, with desperation and hunger biting in his being, dreams stolen and ruined by others (And how was it, did he know this was still the best outcome? What could be worse- no, don’t ask that, it could always lead to ruin that question-) that Airplane, with only his little talent for script writing and his nightmares to aid him, starts to write, hoping for just enough money to get dinner eventually.

It... proves surprisingly popular. Just write what he dreams, maybe embellish here and there, take out that part, work around here, and just ignore that certain event and hey, this story is surprisingly coming together well. Are there a few plot holes? Sure, but considering the literal mass grave of answers for those holes, Airplane is content to leave them like that (pleasedon’tmakehimwritethatseeingitwasalreadyhorrifyinghedoesnotwanttoreliveit).

Things are going good; all his hospital bills that his father’s insurance doesn’t cover have been paid, his rent money has already been turned in, and hey, he even has some extra cup noodles. How can life get any better? (thedreamscouldstop-)

And then the world turns strange; weird creatures have started to be discovered, strange flora has been unearthed, and natural disasters seem to not be so natural as once thought.

Not to mention just how people have changed as well; or if they were ever regular people at all. Some seem to turn feral, no mind to think with as they act like zombies all of a sudden, supernatural feats of strength suddenly coming about...

Strangers suddenly flying about on swords, letting loose great shows of light...

Airplane ignores it; it’s all he can do. (Thereisnothingtobedonebutwait.) He codes for his story, makes some noodles to enjoy as he reads some comments, and naturally dies. (right on time)

Airplane is admittedly taken off guard when he actually wakes up, back in his crappy little apartment, terrible bruising all up his arms (therearesomanypathssolittletime), when he looks around and sees the change in the world.

And he knows; his stories are no longer mere words and nightmares anymore, but now combined with his waking world, now and forever.

- Read under for more notes and such on this world~

So, basically, Airplane/Shang Huan has been dreaming of the world where his stories takes place, the PIDW world, and using it to make money because he is a desperate little gremlin. (Now, with his powers, he can see multiple paths, and all, but he doesn’t see everything, especially if he himself changes fate, making the paths shrink and become a little more hazy.)

So one day, his world and PIDW world merge, causing countless calamities and disasters, even as the world heals and blossoms under it all. See, what happens is that when Bing-ge’s Harem finally turned on him and all (I don’t know if this is canon or fanon but it fits), Bing-ge in turn used the Wrath of the Heavens, which is not something even the craziest of Heavenly Demons would do if that says anything, which wreck a whole bunch of shit and mashed a few planes of existence together.

A lot of people died because of this... and yet, a lot of peeps were brought back because of this as well. Airplane did in fact die because of being electrocuted, but because of that, the energy left from the WOH merged with it, ending up kickstarting and powering him up instead of killing him outright.

And it is a very good thing SQH got that power up; he is going to have so many nightmares about it, but being able to manipulate, control, and use electricity and lightening are what ensure him survival for a good month before his city is made livable again. (He would do worse to survive, has done worse, what is a little electrical trauma in the name of his life?)

And look, even his intuition and foresight seemed to have greatly improved! Yay? (Nay so many n i g h t m a r e s)

He’ll be fine, he can walk it off. But as it is, Airplane starts to be rather... lucky with some of his finds.

Ironically, it starts with a man dressed in pale blues, eye tired and ever so dead, blood covering his fancy fantasy robes, a familiar crest/symbol (To Airplane) stitched over where the heart would be. A Traitor abused and used up, nothing left but rock bottom and yet still willing to dig if it meant living. (Oh, how that rings familar~)

Airplane has seen the past of Shang Family’ Honorable Third Son Shang Shaoqing and the future of the backstabing An Ding Peak Lord Shang Qinghua. Airplane knows that this is a desperate man who has done all he could to survive, with the mind like so many steel traps and mazes to dig around in...

Airplane saves them, avoiding a slow death the man would have had, earning him gratitude and suspicion all at once. The Writer doesn’t care, he just knows that having this guy on his side is just a logical choice; the man not only has more insider knowledge then anyone else in the world, but even knows how to use it.

On Shang Qinghua’s side.

With all the karmatic debt I have, I can not avoid this Life Debt... but once I pay my debt, I am gonna blow this popsicle stand.

Huh, this guy is actually kinda useful, maybe I should stick around

OH FUCK WHY DOES HE HAVE HEAVENLY TRIBULATION LIGHTNING?! HE NEEDS TO START CULTIVATING STAT

WHY IS THIS MAN SUCH A DISASTER?!?! NOW I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T GET HURT.

*Airplane tenderly taking care of his injuries, nervous smile on his face even as it is so soft* “You didn’t have to take that attack but... thank you for having my back” SdndejnejdbbhjD no, you have no right looking so cute, fuck why is this happening?!

.... This man is a fucking Seer... Actual, full blown, Doomsayer Seer, Not the Succubus Soothsayers who can just see little things, no, actual, can literally effect the fabric of Fate and Destiny Seer.... Fuck his life, he probably owes this guy even more now...

*Shang Qinghua snarks in response, only to get equally snarked in reply* .... I won’t say I’m in love...

Fuck, if anything happens to his disaster of a Seer he will go on a massacre and then probably become a demonic cultivator to revive him...

So yeah, over the course of maybe a few months, Shang Qinghua has regretsTM and Airplane gets an actually loyal bodyguard... Meanwhile~

Airplane: -Sigh- As nice as it is to have Shang Qinghua around, it won’t last forever; once the man pays back his debt, he just leave (like everyone else).

And then time for drama! The two get separated by unsteady space rips, Airplane having enough time to yell out a safe place for them to meet again before they end up on opposite sides to each other. So now, not only does Airplane have to work on surviving, but on the (hopeful) reunion between the two.

Cue Airplane’s next ‘Lucky Find’

Airplane hears the sound of sword and spell before he ever actually sees anything. Looking over the top of his nice ledge, safe enough from from any ‘friendly fire’, the young man feels his eyes widen when he sees who is fighting.

A beautiful, tall man in cream and tan colored robes, the ashen brunet directing their sword around them, using their other hand to throw out talismans when too crowded. And oh, how the mob surrounds this tired, too kind man, so weary for lost, all his grief stricken love no where to go in the lost of his family. (Oh, how jealous one can be, that someone got that love, no matter how fleeting it was in the end)

Airplane taking in Mu Qingfang, a healer forced to be a killer, a man with so much heartbreak in his soul, even as he determinedly live on, that shattered heart still wanting to help as much as it could. The Seer takes on how the other will die here, nothing left at all of such a heart, and in the end, Airplane helps, letting loose lightning upon the mob as he does.

Just makes sense, to have a Healer with you if you can.

On Mu Qingfang’s side:

This man is terrifying, how does he have tribulation lightning at his command??? but he did save me there, it’s only right I accompany him until I can pay it off (not like I have other things to do)

I am very, very grateful you saved me, but can you for all that is health PLEASE REST?!

Oh to the gods, how is a disaster like you alive? No, don’t eat that!

*Airplane, a tired smile on his face as he shows off some potent healing herbs he found* “I managed to find them, a little tricky but I was wondering if you can make use of them, maybe? I remember you saying you were running low and all.” .... damn his heart for being weak to sincere care and actually thoughtful gifts.

*after a terrifying nightmare, Airplane nearly bleeding from his screams, eyes so haunted and terrified even as he clings onto Mu Qingfang* “Please, I-I I just don’t want to be alone right now... please.” bjhbdjd shit, how can he say no, letting the other cling to them as they finally fall asleep. (Do not think about how cute the other is, cuddled up against him)

...A Seer... a fully realized, Fate altering, Destiny denying Seer... Gods, that explains so damn much... Maybe he can make him a Dreamless Night tea? would at least help with headaches if nothing else.

And so, over the time they have together, Airplane has unknowingly received the care and affection of one powerful as heck healer, who can and will be willing to cut a bitch if it means they have to.

But on Airplane: *le sigh* ah, once they feel like I’m well enough, they’re probably go back to trying to find their Martial Brothers and Sisters.... I’ll at least help them as much as I can...

Now, they don’t get separated: which is good, considering this next er... ‘Lucky’ Find.

They feel the temperature drop before they ever actually see the cause. Warily, the two men look to each other, but with no other way around it, move forward through the incredibly icy landscape.

It does not take them long to find the cause of it.

It is a Demon, Skin pale with a ghostly blue tint to their skin, beautiful snow white antlers branching out from their hand, ice collecting on the ends to make them even more deadly beautiful then before. And yet, for all that deadly beauty, are those ice like eyes, backdropped in the night sky look ever so tired, so betrayed (like always)

Mo Bolin, formerly Mobei-Jun is not one who has nothing left, but his willpower is draining, trapped as he is between the cursed artifact before him, no hope to escape it unless someone is willing to help.

Airplane sees this demon, this man who he greatly admired and aspired to be like, able to stand on their own and keep standing no matter what, no matter what the world came at them with, no matter the misery that had twisted a previously loving and warm child into the hardened, determined Warrior before him.

Letting his Lightning destroy the Artifact, the world weary youth takes the demon’s face in his hands, letting those icy night eyes look into his lightning bright ones, Mu Qingfang quiet but his sword at the ready behind him.

It will not be needed, as his Seer powers go to work.

“You find so much betrayal, just seemingly never able to escape it.

You soul has had so much darkness and hurt just let sit.

You Fate is said to be a cruel one for a cruel being,

Hurt, fear, blood, Ice, and broken bonds and dreams are all I am seeing,

I do Not agree.

So, From this wicked Fate I will set you free.” and as those eyes stare into each other, Mo Bolin can’t stop how he gasps, hand going to his heart, feeling lighter then he has in years.

Meanwhile, Airplane faints, having healed a better Fate for the former Mobei-Jun draining him good.

On Mobei-Jun’s Part

sdhkhbfwkkjdejdehjdehj Why? Just Why? What’s the reason the Seer did that?

Well, considering what he did, Mobei/Mo Bolin will have to find a way to pay the other back.

...Why is this Seer so Cute? He wants to pet it. (note: hitting will make the Healer stab him)

*Airplane, tired out from a long day having to fight through a bit battle, smiling in thanks, help Mu Qingfang with patching everyone up* “You know, I really admire you; your strength and determination to always do your best, no matter how many people try to tear you down... I wish I could be like that.” wait what, no, you’re perfect like you are, you little gremlin seer. (Mu Qingfang agrees.)

*Airplane, suffering from a Fever, which means he has to cuddle with a certain Ice Demon to cool down* “Ah, sorry for troubling you like this, my ideal man, but you are so cool... *snuggles* .... Damnit.

Like, Mobei-Jun/Mo Bolin knows Airplane can kick some ass already, but by the ancestors does he love seeing this little disaster of a man just wreck everyone around him.

So yeah, add one very smitten Demon Lord to the roster~ :D Oh, the loyalty was hard earned, and there is no way Mobei-Jun will be willing to part, even as he has to share with a Healer and whoever this Shang-Er they will be seeing soon.

For Airplane: ah, so cool to see my Ideal Man, but of course there is no way he’ll stay by my side forever, what with all the things he probably needs to do.

and this is all I got for the Harem on my side: now for the dynamics with each other:

Mobei-Jun and Mu Qingfang: the demon respects the healer greatly, and since they are both quiet peeps they don’t have much conflict. as for the Healer, after his sect got destroyed, he’s had to do a lot of things to make sure him and his surviving disciples lived, so he’s not too against demons, and Mobei-Jun is very useful in fighting, so for now they cool.

Both when they see Shang Qinghua; ... D:<

On Mobei-Jun’s side: his little traitorous spy just had to be back and be that Shang-Er close to Airplane. He does not like this, wants to smack the other around, but that would upset Airplane So he just glares. Shang Qinghua is not happy with this arrangement either, fully prepared to curse the other out and everything, but not going to stir the pot up more then he has to.

On Mu Qingfang: .... his backstabing martial brother is alive, but the thing is that Mu Qingfang and his disciples wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for the other; Shang Qinghua had saved them, transporting them away from the bloodshed that was about to happen. On Shang Qinghua’s part, the Healer was the only Peak Lord to give him any damn respect and care, so he of course gave him an out along with his own peak disciples; he pays back debts.

(This is ironically the reason he got killed by Mobei-Jun, because he saved those disciples)

So, there is much drama for a while, the three having big shouting matches and discourse, but these guys will turn into Enemies to Frenemies to Salt Lords and then to the Airplane Protection squad... because when these three get together and agree on something, well, you just combined the only competent people from PIDW together~

And they all love Airplane :D

Thank you all for reading the insanity of this, I enjoyed writing it out~

#SVSSS #Scum Villain Self Saving System #Scum Villain Self-Saving System #Shang Qinghua #Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky #SVSSS AU #Seer!Airplane AU #OG!Shang Qinghua #Mu Qingfang #Mobei-Jun

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euphoriara · 4 years

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The Sign to Your Heart

genre : fluff

pairing : yoongi x reader

word count : 5,050

warning : swear words? other than that none? dogs?

strangers to lovers!au

a/n: finally!! my first piece for the bingo is finished!! it literally took me one month to finish this skdksld. also i was aiming for 2k and ended up with 5k instead,,, f but anyway here it is, enjoy!! also shoutout to miss joonary for sending me the message that gave me the motivation to finally finish this once and for all, miss nary thank you, ily. (and yes i know that’s not holly, yoongi doesn’t exactly take a lot of pictures with holly so,, just pretend skdksk)

The sun beats down on your back as you curse Jimin in your head for dragging you here with him. It's too bright, too hot to be outside today but he had insisted and bribed you with the promise of not one, but two ice creams.

You, a mere mortal, what power do you have to refuse the offer of ice creams, and for free at that?

But right now, sitting at the bench placed strategically around the dog park, you're starting to regret your friendship with Jimin. When you said strategically, you mean whoever placed these benches must hold a grudge for humans. None of them were placed underneath a shade, sun directly hitting your face. Sure there's a shelter in the middle of the park, surrounded by 4, beautiful, large trees that you can't remember the name of.

But the place is crowded right now, due to the fact that global warming is trying to remind you of humanity's sins. There's too many people standing there with their dog, and there isn't a single chair placed there. Besides, do you really have the will to move yourself all the way over there? You'd rather let yourself melt into a puddle over here instead.

You just want to know who designed this park. Do they not know the basics of functionality? Were they not thinking? Did they design this half-asleep after a long day designing the Target across the street?

You also take note of how there's only one gate, making it dangerous if a dog went out without anyone noticing. If you could leave a review on Yelp for this park, you'd give whoever it is a piece of your mind. You also remind yourself to tell Jimin to pick a better dog park to take his dogs to next time.

While you're still busy arranging the speech you're going to give to Jimin, a blur of white zooms in front of you, followed by two smaller blurs of brown and black, snapping you out of your reverie. At least the dogs are enjoying themselves.

Which reminds you, Jimin had asked your help to keep an eye on the dogs, since he's dogsitting 7 all at once.

"More dogs means more money for me." He had said, to which you replied, "More dogs mean more free labor from me."

The bastard had only said "Bingo!" to that, not even bothering to hide his intentions. But you guess he's generous enough to pay you with ice creams instead of letting you evaporate to the sky.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you scan the park to see where the dogs had gone off to, and find yourself sighing in relief when you see all of them playing by the trees. One of them, you think he's owned by Jimin's neighbor, is trying to mount another dog, bigger than his size. "Damn, he's ambitious."

Unfortunately for him, his plan is foiled when another dog owner moves him off every time he even thinks about going near the German Shepherd. Kudos to him for trying though.

You squint while scanning the park, trying to locate where Park Jimin is but you don't see his pink hair anywhere in the park. Had he left you here by yourself? Did he trick you again? Oh he's in big trouble if he did. You know where he keeps his most prized possession and you're not afraid to use the information against him.

It's not like you meant to snoop around his room. It was his fault for leaving the box of- you grimace at the mental image, toys at the bottom of his innermost drawer of his closet. You were just trying to find your missing phone! Which granted, was probably not in there, but you couldn't leave any stones unturned. But even though you certainly did not want to see what's in the box, you're glad you have a backup plan for whenever Jimin screws you over again.

You feel something cold press against your left cheek and hiss, preparing to sock whoever it is with the book in your hand. You forgot you even had it in the first place. "Hey!" However when you turn around, you're momentarily stunned by the bright pink hair in front of you, coupled that with the sun, you have to blink back your vision a few times.

Jimin can use his bright hair to blind his enemy if he was a superhero. His power would be that he keeps changing his hair to bright colors until eventually he goes bald, which will become his ultimate weapon.

"I bought you some drinks," he says as he throws a cold bottle of sprite to your face. You nearly miss, dodging a bruise on your forehead by a millimeter. You look down at the bottle in your hands, face blank and deadpan, "You know I don't drink soda." He pulls his shades down and smirks, "I know."

You scowl at him, throwing the bottle back to him, which he catches easily. Would have been nice if he didn't, maybe the bottle would have knocked his stupidly expensive sunglasses off to the ground and one of the dogs would run off with it. "Where have you been? You're the one dog sitting but you leave all the responsibility to me? I should be the one getting paid then, give me my damn salary or I'll sue you for employee mistreatment!"

He raises one of his eyebrows, "Are you done?" You give him a look. "Like I said, I was buying you some drinks-" "Some drinks my ass, you didn't buy anything I can drink." "And getting you some lunch, but if you don't want it, then I guess I'll-" You snatch the bag from his hand and bolt to the other side of the park, the familiar brown paper bag fueling your instinct to protect your food. You ignore the confused stares of people and the group of dogs following you, they're either trying to steal your food or think you're playing with them.

Once you reach your destination, you immediately regret the decision. Now you're hotter than before, sweating buckets under your clothes. You hate yourself for picking a black shirt, so much for the aesthetic. You breathe in deeply a few more times before remembering that you don't have any water on you. You cursed this park and the other park that brought you here once again.

No matter, you'll just get some on your way back later, dehydration be damned. You see Jimin making his way towards you, looking at ease in his sleeveless silk shirt and basketball shorts, and start to munch on your fries faster. Instinct.

"Finish your food, we're going home, I'll buy you some ice creams on our way home, I know-" Jimin's voice starts to fade as you zero in on someone behind him. The guy is the same height as Jimin, wearing all black, much like you, but what made you stare at him is his hair. His bright yellow hair that almost looks white under the sun. It contrasts his clothes so much you have to stare to take him in.

And his skin is a bit pale, making you question if he had stepped outside and see the sun in a while. Is he perhaps a vampire? Maybe that'd explain his clothes, his hair and his skin? And the fact that he seems to draw you in with his presence? Will you finally be the one to prove the existence of vampires? Will you be famous?

You see him cross the street, now walking closer to the park, and finally get a clearer look of his face. You didn't wear your contacts today, not expecting to find cute boys at the dog park, you just wanted ice cream.

Which is precisely what he is. He has soft features, pouty lips and feline eyes from what you can see from his side profile. His focus is only on his phone and you muse momentarily at how one of these days, that'll get him in trouble. You see that he's allowing his dog to pull him whichever way it wants, thus resulting in him being en route to the dog park.

Jimin waves his hand in front of your face, frowning at your lack of attention, "Hey, are you listening to me?" You move his hand down and continue to stare at the boy. If your brain cells aren't hibernating right now, you'd realize you're being a little creepy by doing it. But you can't help it, you don't think you've ever seen someone with such a cute face before, aside from Jimin? Maybe? Anyway, he's wearing a mask that had been pulled down to his chin, revealing his lips and cupping his cheeks. You squeal internally at the visual, though your face remains blank.

Jimin was about to move in front of you again when it happened. The boy wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and his poor dog was too excited to notice it was leading him straight to the dog park sign. You cringe when you hear his head make contact with the metal, debating if you should go outside to help him. The sound was so loud that a few people whipped their heads around to see, including Jimin who turned to see what you were looking at.

The poor guy had dropped his phone and the leash, clutching his head in pain. You see his dog take one look at him and run into the park. Feeling bad for him, you decide to chase after his dog, leaving Jimin behind with a confused frown plastered on his face.

You catch the little guy just as it was about to run into the crowd of people, bouncing him in your arms and cooing at it, "You sneaky little thing, you just left your owner like that after leading him to his demise? You should apologize for that, but then again, it was his fault for not paying attention, huh?"

The little brown poodle barks as if it agrees, and you continue to coo and pet it while making your way to the guy still crouching outside, most likely from humiliation instead of pain.

Hesitantly, you call out to him when you hear him muttering curses underneath his breath.

"Hello." He looks up at you and for a moment, you swear you stop functioning. Maybe your eyesight is worse than you thought, you should probably schedule another appointment with your eye doctor because the guy looks even better up close. However, before you could make a fool out of yourself, you hurriedly hold his dog out towards him like you're giving him a box of chocolate, "You- you dropped this."

"I- I meant you dropped his leash and he ran inside without you and, are you okay?" You see the embarrassment on his face in the form of blushing cheeks, "Yeah I'm fine, it hurts a little but I'll be fine."

Damn, his voice. His voice is raspy and deep and soothing and would it be weird if you ask him whether he hosts a podcast and if he does, can you get a name so you can listen to it?

Your last brain cell woke up just to scream "Yes!" so you decide to listen to her for once. Maybe she's on to something.

He stands up clutching his phone and takes the little brown dude from your arm. You see a long crack at the corner of his Samsung Galaxy, and grimace, upset on his behalf because he didn't have a screen protector nor a case. Bold or rich, you can't tell.

"Thanks for catching this sneaky bastard, he probably did that on purpose so he can reach the park faster." The dog barks in disagreement and you coo at it once again. You can't help the baby voice you use, "Nooo, I'm sure he was just trying to tell you to pay attention. Isn't that right? You were just excited for the dog park, weren't you?"

The dog wiggles in his hold like he's trying to reach you, smiling happily at the thought of an ally. "Yeah, I guess it's partially my fault for not looking at my surroundings."

You blink and resist the urge to tell him that it's entirely his fault for not paying attention but alas, you've been in his position before so you stay quiet. A silence passed between the two of you, before Jimin screams out your name to "Get your ass back in here, we're going home."

You don't understand why you need to go back inside if you're going to leave anyway but you don't protest in fear he might refuse to buy you ice cream if you sass him after ignoring him like that. You know how much Jimin hates being ignored. You nod at the stranger before jogging back into the park, shouting out "Be careful next time!"

He nods back, "Thank you!" and turns towards his dog, "No dog park for you today, we have to go home." The dog whines in his grasp but relents, knowing he's probably embarrassed to go in there now that everyone has seen him make a fool out of himself.

Inside, you help Jimin wrangle the dogs, holding four leashes while the prick holds three of the smaller dogs. You want to protest again but you know he'll dangle the promise of your ice cream if you do it. Good thing these dogs are well-behaved. That, or they pity you for having to hold four big dogs at once. Whichever it is, you're thankful to them.

The walk back home is uneventful. Jimin bought you ice cream as promised, watermelon, and you amused yourself with how feral the smaller dogs are acting, clearly trying to give Jimin a hard time. You love these dogs.

Half way through your walk, you remember you didn't ask for the stranger's name and pout. There's a possibility that you'll never be able to see him again. You wonder if he'll show at the same park next time, though you doubt it. Besides, you already pledge to not go into that park again.

Which reminds you once again, you need to tell Jimin about how much his park of choice sucks. And now that he already bought you ice cream, you can go back to nagging him.

You spewed out your carefully crafted speech about how much that park sucks and interrupted him every time he tried to cut you off until he relented and let you speak your heart away.

He finally gives in after your fifth point, screaming out "Okay! I get it lady, now stop talking!" Which caused you to smile smugly to yourself the whole way home.

***

Two weeks later find you sitting on a different bench, in a different park. Thankfully, this time the benches have shades and are scattered with the thought of dogs and owners in mind. This time around too, the weather had cooled off significantly than the last time you were out.

Jimin is sitting next to you, attention fixated on his phone, while you watch over the dogs. You don't know why he needs your help when there's only 3, but looking at him right now, it's obvious he just didn't want to work at all.

You tried to sneak a peek at what he's looking at on his phone, but everytime he sensed you, he'd immediately grab your face and turn you away. You scowl at him every time.

You were about to open your mouth and talk his ear off when you see a somewhat familiar looking brown blob fly past you, running from its owner. You see the guy chasing his dog around the park while screaming out its name, "Holly, get back here! We need to go home!"

And you see Holly, the dog, dodge him like a professional shop-lifter evading mall cops. You silently applaud the dog and its agility.

"Holly, do you know what time it is? We've been here for five hours now!" You see him run for another 2 minutes before he slumps against a tree, panting. You finally catch a good look of him and realize he's the stranger from the previous dog park.

Suddenly you feel a presence next to your leg and when you look down, Holly is happily looking up at you with his tail wagging. You coo at the cute dog before picking him up and setting him on your lap, "Hey little buddy! You're always causing problems aren't you?" He lets out a tiny woof before settling in your arms.

You stand up, making your way to the poor dude by the tree, while Holly happily accepts scratches from you. He's sitting on the ground now, obviously still trying to recover from the sprint.

"Sign guy!" You stand in front of him, smiling when you see him look up. Once he recognizes you, he grimaces at the name, mortified of the incident before. He scrambles to stand up, stuttering out a "He-hey. Hi," and wiping his palms on his jeans.

"Here's your dog! You were trying to catch him right? So you can go home?" You offer the dog to him, not unlike last time. "Oh! Uh, yeah, I was." He scratches the back of his neck before taking his dog from you, and he seems to be having a hard time making eye contact with you.

"Thank you, for helping me again." You see him struggle with saying that and chuckle to yourself. "No problem, your dog seems like a troublemaker, huh?"

He smiles at the mention of his dog, you can see how much he loves Holly. "Yes, he is a little rascal." He's fond and you're endeared by him. "Well, I should get going now, you guys were leaving right?" He straightens immediately, eyes slightly wide while you mock scold his dog, "Don't give him a hard time once in a while, okay? Give him a break." Holly barks an okay and you coo, petting his head once more.

"Well, by-" "What's your name?" He spoke so fast you didn't catch it. "Huh?"

He blinks a few times, "I- Uh. Your name. What's your name?" You blink a few times, name? He's asking for your name?

Oh! Name! Right! You didn't ask for his name too, last time (despite wanting to).

"Oh, my name is (Y/N)! What about you?" His shoulder slumps slightly in relief, "Yoongi, I'm yoongi." "Nice to meet you Yoongi!"

He smiles, a gummy smile, "Nice to meet you too (Y/N)." You're momentarily transfixed on his smile. He has a really really cute smile and would it be weird if you tell him right now? Probably, so you refrain. You see him quirks his head in question when you stay quiet for longer than necessary and snap out of your thoughts.

"I was wonder-" You hear a commotion from the distance, and when you look over, Jimin's dogs are picking a fight with another dog smaller than them. You gasp, looking for Jimin, but that gremlin had disappeared, leaving you no choice but to go intervene. "I'm so sorry, I have to go! Those dogs are mine! Bye!" You hurriedly run to the crowd, helping other owners separate the dogs.

Once all the dogs are calm again, you sit the three dogs in front of you and scold them, to which they seem remorseful. "Do not pick a fight with other dogs again or no park for you for a- no, two weeks! Got it?" They bark a single woof in understanding and you nod, satisfied at how well they listen to you. Maybe this is why Jimin always asks for your help, the dogs won't listen to him but they will listen to you.

After you let the dogs play again, you see Jimin strutting to where you're sitting with a popsicle in his hand, phone in the other. "Jimin!" You get up to scold him, and when he sees you alone, he quirks his head to the side. "Where's the run into a sign boy?"

You pout at his question, ready to talk his ear off. "I had to leave him because your dogs, the dogs you're dogsitting, not the dogs I'm dogsitting, picked a fight with a dog that was smaller than them! Three of them! Against one dog! One, small dog! What, did it owe them lunch money or something, they were acting like a bully trying to steal someone's homework but you weren't there to de-escalate so I had to intervene and now, cute sign guy left and I don't have his number, only his name."

The whole time you were ranting, Jimin just stood there, silently eating his popsicle with a blank face. You think he blocked you out at the second sentence and it's proven at how his eyes are glazed over, mind somewhere else despite staring at you. You frown and snatch the popsicle from him, finally getting a reaction "Hey! That's mine!" And yet he doesn't attempt to get it back.

You stare at the ice treat in your hand and debate on what to do with it, you're not gonna eat it, no, that's gross. You don't want to throw it away and waste food, but you don't want to give it back to him either. You wonder if this is dog safe. You were about to call the dogs when you realized you're holding nothing, popsicle back to Jimin's hand when you weren't paying attention.

His stupid smirking face is what you see when you lift your head, "Don't worry, sign guy will probably come to this park again with his dog."

"I don't know what time he comes here. What, am I supposed to come here everyday and wait for him or something?"

***

You hate Jimin. You hate Jimin with a burning passion. You can't believe he convinced you to go to the park everyday, and maybe that's on you for being Boo Boo the Fool but you hate him because he made you dogsit for him everyday.

"I mean you're going there anyway, right? Surely you can take them for a few hours?" Fool you once, shame on Jimin. Fool you twice, shame on Jimin again for taking advantage of your kind heart and making you do his work for him when you're not getting paid by his somewhat rich ass.

Free labour and hatred aside, you're actually starting to enjoy going out with the dogs. They're mostly well behaved, and this park really is nice, compared to that Target dog park. You needed the sun exposure, anyway.

You cross your legs when you see Pocky runs in front of you, not wanting to deal with him biting your shoelaces off, which Jimin said he likes to do. Pocky is a black Affenpinscher, notorious for being a master of mischief in the circle of dogs Jimin dogsit. You think you heard Jimin muttered "good luck," under his breath when you took Pocky from him but that could be your mind playing tricks on you.

Because Pocky is a very very sweet dog, you just need to get him to stay away from people's shoelaces. You see him zooms around the park and smile to yourself. You actually have a soft spot for the 10 years old dog, despite his age, he's still very lively and agile and his disobedience to Jimin is funny. You think about how nice and kind Pocky is but stop short when you see him next to someone's legs.

He stares at you and you stare back at him, challenging him to try you. He obviously doesn't care, and starts chewing, and when you look to see who it is, it's Yoongi.

Oh no, he's chewing on Yoongi's converse. Oh no.

For some reason, Yoongi only stood there, looking down at Pocky in confusion. When you see him start pulling his shoe, you go to stop him.

"Pocky!" He chews harder. "No! Stop!" You go to scoop him up but it's too late, Pocky already had a small string in his mouth. "Drop it. Pocky, drop it." He only looks up at you, and you gasp at how this is the first time Pocky disobeys you. So you change tactics.

You pout at the dog, giving him your best puppy eyes, "Pocky are you really not gonna listen to me? I thought you liked me better than Jimin? I'll be sad if you don't listen to me." He whines at your expression, dropping the piece of fabric to the ground and starts licking your chin in apology. You can't believe that work and smile to yourself.

You let him down to the ground, letting him play again after telling him to stay away from people's shoes. You see him run to his friends, making a U turn everytime he sees legs. You're proud of him. Wait until Jimin hears about this, he's gonna sulk-

Someone clears their throat next to you and you bring yourself back to the present, mouth agape when you remember who it is. "Yoongi! Hi! Hello! Oh, I'm so sorry about that! Pocky has an affinity for shoelaces and oh shit, he chewed it off didn't he? I'll replace it if you wan-" He waves his hand in front of your face, and you realize you were rambling again.

He smiles at you, and wait, did your heart just skip a beat? "No, it's okay. Holly sometimes chews on my shoes too, I don't mind really."

"Are you sure? If you need a string replacement, I'll pay you some money for it?"

Yoongi stutters, hands fidgeting in front of him, "You, you, uh you can," he coughs, "You can make it up by going to get coffee with me?"

White guy blinking gif, that's how you look right now.

You pull out your phone, offering it to him with no words because your brain is playing elevator music right now and if you speak, Yoongi will retract his offer. He stares at it in confusion, head quirking to the side. You managed to let out a strained "Number."

He perks up, a tiny "Oh!" leaving his pouty lips. He types in his number and you see him hesitate to send a text so he can save your number, but decided against it. When he hands you back your phone, you finally snap out of your stupor. "I'd love to get coffee with you."

He smiles his gummy smile and you have to resist the urge to coo at him again. "You can text me the details? If you want?"

Smiling back at him, you reply with a tiny "Okay!" You wanted to ask him if he wants to go get ice cream right now but before you can open your mouth, you hear your phone ring, and lo and behold it's Jimin. Jimin and his damn timing. It's always him. Bastard.

You pick it up with a sigh, "Hello?" and listen to him nag you, with a hum here and there. It's like when you're calling your mom. He finally hangs up after telling you about his plan for the night and you look at the distance like you're in the office.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, that was my friend and he wants his dogs home in 10 minutes so I have to hurry but I'll call you later!" You're starting to jog away when he calls out "Do you need help?"

You're surprised at his offer, but quickly accepts because you kinda do need help. "That'd be nice, actually." So he helps you round up the dogs and the process went faster than if you were to do it alone.

Once you're outside the dog park, holding all the leash safely, you turn to him, "Thank you so much for the help! That'd have taken a lot longer without you."

He smiles, eyes scrunching into crescent moon, "No problem, get home safely, okay?"

"Gotcha, thanks again, I'll text you!!" You're already being pulled by the dog by the time you finish your sentence, but you're happy anyway because you finally got his number and a possible-date-maybe-not coffee date.

***

And one possible coffee date turned into one actual coffee date which turns into a dinner date, until, "Can I kiss you?" He looks nervous, and this time you don't resist the urge to coo at him, you cup his cheeks between your hands, "You're so cute when you're nervous like that."

Pouting, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, "Can I?" You smile up at him and nod, chuckling at his cute expression.

He bends down slightly to reach your face, slotting his lips between yours. You close your eyes and hug him close to you, savoring the feeling and memorizing it.

You're glad you went to that awful park and you're glad Holly pulled Yoongi to the same dog park all those weeks ago.

You hate to say it but you're glad Jimin convinced you to go to the dog park everyday, you're just thankful the feelings were mutual or else it'd have been weird.

Getting to know Yoongi brings absolute joy to you and learning about him makes your heart beat slightly faster. Just in the course of two weeks, you can feel yourself falling for him. Yoongi who loves writing music and fishing, Yoongi who wasn't a big dog person until he got Holly, Yoongi who can't raise his voice at people, Yoongi who considers piano as his first love.

Every bit and pieces of information you uncover only made you fall in love more and more with him. Every quirks and habits you noticed always bring a fond smile to your face. You pull him even closer to you, hand intertwine behind his neck, and deepen the kiss.

You're glad he ran into that sign all those weeks ago, because here, standing on the rooftop, with the sun setting behind you, Yoongi's arms around you and his lips on you, you feel home. And you hope he feels the same.

#btsghostiebingo #btsghostie #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #dear yoon #writings #im gonna try to be a little more organized with the formatting skjsksdksl

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is: Chocolate

Summary: all you wanted to do was sell your chocolates at the Christmas market. What you weren’t anticipating was finding someone as gorgeous as Jackson – or dealing his competitive nature over who made the best chocolates this Christmas.

Pairing: Jackson Wang x reader

Genre: enemies to lovers / Christmas au

Warnings: none

Word count: 2240

[All I Want For Christmas Is A Got7 Collab Masterlist]

“What can I offer you, ladies? A sweet, sugary delicacy? Or perhaps something more dark and sinful?”

Rolling your eyes as you watched the man across from your stall openly flirt with a group of women, you attempted to keep your reaction to just that. It was the time of year for festive joy and not for murderous contempt.

And yet that’s all you could manage when it came to Jackson Wang.

When you had been setting up your handmade chocolate stall on the first day of The White Miracle Market, you had been excited to finally get your sweet treats circulating further than your friends and family. It had taken some encouragement to even rent a space at the market this year, and some of your decision had been made because you knew a couple of your friends would be there as well. Still, it was a big deal for you since you had never put yourself out there before.

“Oh hey, chocolates, huh?”

Glancing up from the banner you were working on tying to the stand, you stared at the smiling man before you, silently thanking Santa for giving you your Christmas present early. He was gorgeous, and with the way his hair was brushed away from his face, the warmth of his eyes and the pearly smile he still shined at you, it was amazing you didn’t just get lost staring at his face. You had the foolish audacity to scale the rest of his form, deciding when you were done he was nothing more than a God.

No human had ever looked this good to you before.

Noticing the way he arched an eyebrow at your obvious examination and pursed his lips together, you blinked, rapidly instructing your brain to work.

To say anything.

“I love chocolate,” you breathed as you stared at his eyes, your brain catching up with what you had just uttered, sending a flash of colour across your cheeks. “I mean, making them. I love making chocolates.”

He grinned, folding his arms across his chest and you watched the action as if your entire life depended on it. “We have something in common then.”

“W-We do?”

How could you have anything in common with him? He was out here looking like he should be on the cover of every magazine in his cashmere turtleneck and you were certain you had cocoa powder somewhere in your hair from this morning’s mad dash to make several more batches of chocolates.

“Of course,” he replied with an amused chuckle, pointing to the stall right across from yours. “That’s me.”

Eyes now the size of saucers, you attempted to regain a sense of coherency. “Y-You make chocolates?”

“Not any kind of chocolates,” he oozed and you decided his tone was as sweet as the delicacies you were selling. “Mine are organic and made with fair-trade sourced ingredients.”

Oh.

Swallowing roughly, you attempted to smile. “Wow, that’s really neat.”

“I even have some for dairy-free customers. You never know when you’re going to strike someone with an allergy, right?”

Nodding numbly, you half turned, attempting to straighten out your banner that had fallen sideways when you had lost attention on it. The man moved to assist you, startling you somewhat. “You didn’t tell me your name. I’m Jackson. Jackson Wang.”

As you gave over your own name, you were trying to remain optimistic.

But the light was fading out.

You would spend the next month across from the most handsome man you had ever seen. And what was worse than having him so close to you every day was that he was your only competitor.

It surprised you how well your sales had gone on the opening day of the market. You had been hesitant as you continued setting up, taking glances over in Jackson’s direction now and then. Not only did his stall look professional compared to your more farm-style one, he just exuded an energy that made you feel feeble. Still, your chocolates had garnered a lot of interest and you were rushed off your feet trying to keep up.

“Wow, these are really creamy!”

“I can’t believe the quality of these chocolates. Do you have a website I could order some from in the future?”

“Are you sure these are homemade? They’re out of this world tasty!”

These comments had you rising to the challenge. You held your head high, smiling brightly over at Jackson whenever he caught your eye through the hoards of punters approaching your stall. It wasn’t meant to be a silent offering of battle, rather, you just felt you did indeed have more in common with him like he had mentioned.

You made chocolates and you were doing exceptionally well at selling them.

The next day, however, your success had clearly prompted Jackson to come up with a sales pitch. As people wandered down the small aisle of stalls, he angled himself to catch their attention, graciously calling them over to try real, authentic chocolate.

At first, it hadn’t bothered you but when he mentioned he was certain other people used lesser quality ingredients compared to him, whilst staring at you the entire time, well, it got to you a little. When business died down, you marched over the aisle to his stall, placing your hands on your hips. “Can we talk?”

“Do you want to try some, Y/N? I’ll give you a taste that will blow your mind.”

You were too worked up to fully be affected by the way his eyelashes fluttered or that he purposely leaned into you either. You dug your hands further into your sides, making no move to take his offering. “We can co-exist here, Jackson.”

“Of course we can, isn’t that what we are doing? You’re doing your little treats and I’m over here with my organic delicacies. There’s room for us both.”

“You’re acting as if my chocolates are worthless and I’ve heard you say more than once today that mine are poorly made. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I said nothing about you. I merely said other chocolates-”

“Whilst staring at me-”

“Just don’t have the same impact as mine does. That’s all,” he continued as if you hadn’t interrupted him, smiling smugly as he placed down his samples container. “I definitely didn’t mean any hard feelings about it. I’m just selling my products how I usually do.”

“Right, well please try to be more considerate. It’s the Christmas season and we’re all here for the same reason. I’m not going to stamp all over you so let’s share the space together.”

You turned to walk off when he scoffed, hearing the words he spoke under his breath before greeting new customers to his booth.

Like you could even match me.

As you returned to your own stand, you watched on as he worked on his selling pitch, his eyes casting over in your direction.

Instead of shrinking away you squared your jaw, shooting him back a challenging look.

If he wanted to make this personal, you would have no issues in proving just how well you matched up to him.

It was now war.

Over the following week, running your stall at the market had become exhausting. It wasn’t from all the chocolates you made each day to supply the demand for them or even the daily setup and closure of your booth.

It was from dealing with Jackson and his outlandish ways.

Your sales dipped when he started to offer a new caramel flavour to his menu, and when you came up with the idea of bulk bins, you definitely stole the show. Sure, you had people who would buy from both stalls to keep everyone happy, but on a whole, it was a race to see who could get a potential buyer to come over first.

You drew the line at openly flirting to make a sale though.

“Don’t you want to try a line or two on me?” a bored sounding tone wondered and you looked up at the man, noticing he was from the ticket booth. Your forehead creased as you tried to decipher his question. Jerking his head in the direction of Jackson leaning over his stall and talking up a set of women, you groaned, shaking your head.

“I don’t play that dirty,” you answered gruffly and he lazily grinned, picking up several bags of the chocolates.

“Oi, Jinyoung! What the hell?! Get over here!” Jackson called when he saw who was spending his time perusing your chocolates and you blinked slowly as Jinyoung, as you now knew him as, pushed some money into your hand.

He held up the treats. “Thanks for this. Not only will I have something to get me through the hell that is my shift, but I got to piss Jackson off too.”

“Uh, thanks for your purchase!” you called as he trudged off, leaving you wide-eyed and unprepared for Jackson’s approach.

“How many did he buy?”

“What?”

“Your chocolates! How many?”

“Six packs.”

“Six?! That cheap asshole told me he couldn’t even afford to buy two from me!”

“Well, your prices are higher than mine. You know, to cover all those harder to source, fair-trade and less of an unethical footprint on the Earth chocolates of yours.”

Jackson raked an unsteady hand through his hair. “I’m watching you.”

“For what?! This is ridiculous, don’t you think?” you finally announced, gesturing between you both. “We’re making fucking chocolates, Jackson. This isn’t some multi-corporate thing but just a side business for the holidays. I admire your pride in your creations, but we’re acting so pathetic fighting over who does better! I’m done caring anymore. As long as it stops you throwing yourself at women to catch their attention with your handsome face, it’ll make the rest of this market that much smoother to put up with if we stop competing over who is better!”

Jackson couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m handsome?”

“Is that all you got from what I just said?” you whined, shaking your head incredulously.

“Actually, I got a whole lot more from it.” His face now thoughtful, Jackson reached over and gently took a hold of your forearm.

You’d be lying if you said that, even if you had wanted to murder this asshole all week long, Jackson touching you didn’t make you shiver with delight. You were tingling all over when he smiled genuinely at you. “Tomorrow, can I come over to yours? I think I have a great idea.”

Despite being hesitant, Jackson coming over to your apartment to make chocolates had been the best decision you had made. You shared recipes and tricks you had each learned in the process of making chocolates. And you had found a way to come together, creating the best batches of chocolate you had ever tasted.

Of course, they were a hit at the market too.

“Weren’t you two opposite each other last time I was here?” a man asked as he took a sample, his face lighting up with the taste. “And these have improved!”

“We decided we had a lot more in common than we thought and combined our styles. Would you like to purchase any of our chocolates?” Jackson pitched and the man bought ten.

That day you made more sales than you had in an entire week. And you sold out before the market closed that the next day you tripled the amount you made together with Jackson.

As you packaged up the treats and handed them to Jackson to place into one of the storage bins, you smiled at him. “You know, we make a good team.”

“You’re only just realising this now?”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him playfully as you handed him another package. “We should have joined forces earlier than fighting over who had the best chocolates.”

“I’m glad we took our time though,” Jackson replied and you frowned, glancing at him curiously. He grinned, nudging you back. “I can’t lie and say it wasn’t fun.”

“It was fun for you?!”

“Seeing you light up as you tried to out-pitch me was really attractive, Y/N. I sure got to see a whole different side to you that I wouldn’t, had we remained civil.”

“A-Attractive?”

“You don’t think it was just you checking someone out, right?” Jackson wondered with a laugh. “When I first saw you, I thought Santa had-”

“Given you an early present this year,” you finished off for him, and Jackson gaped at you. You giggled. “I guess we both had the same intentions from the beginning.”

“To make the best chocolates and be in the company of someone gorgeous?” Jackson offered as you blushed, handing him another package. He took your hand instead, smiling at you in a way that made you feel as if it was made just for you. All the air was knocked out of you, and you scolded yourself for still falling trap to his charms.

“I mean, making the best chocolates is a given, right?” you managed, attempting to restart your heart by looking away.

Jackson then popped a piece of chocolate into your mouth, surprising you as you felt it began to melt upon your tongue. He then swiftly leaned in to kiss you, this kiss sweeter than anything you had ever tasted before.

When he pulled back, he grinned. “You’re right; we really do make the best chocolates.”

_________________

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ailec-12 · 3 years

Note

Prompt: AU, bored and exploring Malfoy Manor at a social function, young Sirius Black finds an old diary belonging to T.M. Riddle.

Thanks so much for this prompt, Anon! To be honest, at first I had no idea what to do with it, but it would seem Tom’s diary possessed me as well, because once I started, I couldn’t stop. I’ve enjoyed writing teen Sirius a lot, so I hope you’ll also like it.

Shout-out to @mariagvogel for making this one shot better with her comments. It can also be read on AO3.

Sirius hated them all —every fucking member of his family. Nothing could really top his hatred for his mother, who insisted on dragging him to those pure-blood parties no matter how much her eldest son embarrassed her. He was wandering around, sneering at the portraits that lined up the walls of the Malfoy mansion.

Those events were always supremely boring, but Sirius had never felt so utterly alone. Regulus was socialising with their cousins like the good Black son he was. Yet, the only cousin that really mattered, Andromeda, was not present and no one talked about her. Her face still decorated the Black family tapestry, but Sirius did not think it would last long. It was a very odd feeling. When Andromeda talked about cutting ties with her family, they used to laugh about going out in style. He had not seen his cousin in months, though, and, if she had concocted any plans with her Muggle-born boyfriend, she had not breathed a single word about it to Sirius.

The dark corridor he was crossing at the moment threatened to be as dull as the guests downstairs. At least he had managed to slip unnoticed from the party. He could not have shown his distaste as freely there. A somewhat distant crack startled him out of his thoughts. He froze on the spot. That must be Dobby. Although Sirius could not say he liked the house-elf —who was always too overexcited—, he pitied anyone who had to live under the thumb of a prat like Lucius Malfoy. Dobby was also far nicer than Kreacher. Even so, if he saw Sirius snooping around, he would be forced to tell his masters. Sirius would rather avoid angering his mother so soon when there was still a long evening ahead of them.

Thinking on his feet, he walked quickly to the end of the corridor, where a door hid the stairs to the attic. Andromeda and Cissy had discovered that one dragging a very young Sirius with them. He could no longer remember the exact reason, but they had been hiding. It felt like a very far memory.

Sirius closed the door carefully behind him and waited until he heard the second crack that meant Dobby had left. The party seemed not to exist in the absolute stillness of the stairs and Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh. Glancing up, he decided to head for the attic. It was a good hiding place if nothing else.

The room looked dirtier and more abandoned than Sirius remembered. It actually reminded him of their attic at home, full of useless and forgotten pure-blood memorabilia. He stepped around the worn-out furniture, dodging the odd-shaped items scattered in some parts. He could not help thinking that, if the rest of his friends were with him, poking around Malfoy’s stuff would have sounded much more exciting. Alone, however, Sirius did not truly feel like exploring.

Looking round in order to find at least something to distract him from the fact that there was no one to share his findings with, his eyes fell on a small bookcase. The dust made his eyes itch when he got closer and most books did not even have a title on the spine. He gazed at them blankly for a moment longer, trying to decide whether picking them up was worth the effort. His interest was suddenly piqued when he saw a small rectangular item wrapped in fading brown fabric. That time, he took it with no hesitation, revealing a black leather book. It was rather thin and the year on the cover —1942— let him know it was not a recently purchased item. As he opened it, he was disappointed to find there was nothing on the blank pages except for a name on top of the first one: T. M. Riddle.

Sirius let it fall, huffing. An empty diary whose owner did not even have the right surname for the house. He did not really care if it had been someone who had married into the family or if some Malfoy had stolen it. Somehow, Sirius was not able to picture someone staying for a sleepover and leaving their diary behind.

Bored, he sat down on the floor, near the diary. He could already see the others’ faces when he returned downstairs having ruined his new, shiny robes. The mere thought brought a smirk to his face and lifted his spirits lightly. He picked the diary back up. Perhaps no one would ever see it, but Sirius wanted to leave his mark in case someone else found the old thing.

He searched through the drawers and found a couple of broken quills, but no ink. He cursed out loud, remembering the Muggle drawing kit that Moony had gifted him last Christmas. He would carry a pen everywhere if he was not certain his mother would enjoy burning it while Sirius was still carrying it.

Nevertheless, he found a small piece of charcoal and did not hesitate to open the diary at the first page. In big capital letters, just under the name, he wrote, FUCK PURE-BLOODS —SB. He had to admit it looked lamer than it had sounded in his head, so he was trying to come up with another epithet when the words faded away. Blinking, he stared down at the yellowish pages. If it was a means of communication like the two-way mirror he used with Prongs, he might be screwed.

The diary answered right away.

Interesting choice of words to write on someone else’s diary. And who might you be?

Sirius looked at the words for a few seconds. It had been quite a prompt answer for an object that had seemed abandoned just a moment ago.

I’m not telling you my name, he decided to write at last. He was not that much of an idiot.

As you wish. Mine is Tom.

Again, the reply was quick. Sirius bit his lip, rolling the charcoal between his fingers.

Are you friends with the Malfoys?

I might be, came Tom’s enigmatic answer. They must not have taken great care of my diary if you have got your hands on it, though.

The calligraphy was elegant, although not as flowery as Sirius’s. For all his faults, the Malfoys were not as exclusive as the Blacks. Tom’s elusive comments sparked the boy’s imagination and he was already picturing Riddle as the offspring of a marriage between a Malfoy and someone of not such a high standing.

Focusing back on the pages, which had returned to their original state, he decided to try his luck.

Do you write to them often?

I can’t say I do.

Sirius could almost hear the playful tone behind those words.

What would you do if I took you with me?

Write to you, what else?

Sirius’s smirk grew bigger as he closed the diary and threw away the charcoal.

II.

In the end, getting away from the gathering had indeed been worth it. His parents had not been able to do much in public, since they knew sending him home would actually have been a reward. By the time they had got back, both of them had been too inebriated to punish him properly. Sirius had got away with just his hurt pride at having had to apologise to the Malfoys plus a quick stinging hex before being sent to bed. Still, his leg hurt like hell from the surprisingly well-aimed spell.

He was lying on his bed, groaning into his pillow and with absolutely no intention of sleeping. He would like to contact James through the mirror —he did not think anyone would hear him despite the absolute silence—, but he did not want to come across as needy. He could wait until tomorrow to whine and tell his friends all his woes.

Turning around, he sat up and examined his leg. He concluded it would be better not to risk asking Kreacher for a pain potion, since it would lead to his mother hearing about it. In a couple of hours, it would no longer sting. Making what felt like an enormous effort, he stood up and started disrobing. It was only then that he remembered Tom. Still half dressed, he hurried to get ink and quill and got comfortable in his bed. It was pretty late, so he told himself he might have to wait until the morning for an answer.

Are you there?

Of course.

Sirius smiled at the immediate reply.

I —don’t— regret to inform you that you are no longer with the Malfoys.

His grin grew bigger as he felt clever. He would keep talking to Tom if it was going to help him forget about his misery for a while.

You sound like more interesting company anyway. I take it that you had fun and the event is over?

Sirius scoffed loudly.

I don’t think a single one in that bloody bunch of old snobs know what having fun is like.

You may be right, but why would you want fun when you already have power?

Reading those words gave him chills and sobered him up. Perhaps it was because Tom’s phrasing urged him to agree at first. He frowned and put down the diary to physically distance himself from that feeling. Almost right away, though, he picked it up again.

Do you believe that blood supremacy crap?

He felt something akin to disappointment and had to rein in the impulse to throw a cruder accusation.

What I believe does not matter. It is a fact they have power, is it not?

Sirius liked that answer even less and he felt his frown deepen. He stared as the ink faded, considering what he should retort. Apparently, Tom found his words sooner.

You benefit from that power, don’t you, S?

An inexplicable, overwhelming anger rose in the boy’s throat and he was scribbling furiously before he was aware of it.

Fuck you. My name is Sirius.

He slammed the diary shut and threw it in his trunk.

III.

I’m a fucking tosser.

It was the first thing he wrote in two weeks and the black letters were blurry.

Do tell.

Tom’s response came at once as usual, but it felt oddly impersonal. It was just what Sirius needed, because the last thing he wanted was a friendly ear. He was determined to avoid thinking about the next letter he would have to write to Prongs.

I was going to spend half the summer at a friend’s, but I crossed my mother and ruined everything. I’m not going anywhere now.

A little splash smeared the ink before it disappeared completely. He wiped his eyes furiously while he waited for Tom to say something.

Oh, boo-hoo. Why would you act out if you needed her permission?

Didn’t plan on it, you twat. Just happened. You’d also scream at her if you’d met her, he added before a reply could come.

I think not. I’ve been told I’m a great actor.

Pretentious prick, Sirius shot back. He was feeling calmer, though, and not truly annoyed.

Tom offered no reaction to that, but Sirius did not want to finish their conversation so soon. It was a very welcome distraction from the pain and humiliation that usually followed an argument with his mother.

I don’t know how I’m to survive an entire summer locked up in this house.

Have you tried to escape?

I’m only 14. The Ministry will find me as soon as I try to do magic.

Of course, living as a Muggle is out of question.

Sirius frowned, not liking one bit the mockery he could feel behind the words.

It is when I have neither Muggle clothes nor Muggle money, he retorted.

And your friend? Wouldn’t he take you in?

James would, he was certain of it. However, that would require detailing exactly how bad things were at home. It was not worth it, Sirius told himself as he had a thousand times before. It was only three more years until he could do magic and then no one, not even his mother, could stop him —after all, his fourteenth birthday was just a few months away.

My family would not allow it, he wrote instead.

Are you important or something?

Again that derisive feeling. Sirius could not explain why he felt the other’s intentions so distinctly.

Or something, he agreed noncommittally. He was about to add something else when a knock on his door startled him.

Swallowing with difficulty, he reminded himself that only one person in their household would knock before entering. Not that his dear brother waited for an answer. Sirius had barely had time to close the diary when the door opened. At least, Regulus was not in the habit of barging in.

“What do you want?” Sirius snapped right away, feeling anger consuming everything within him once again.

Any tentativeness disappeared from his brother’s demeanour and his young face hardened. He closed the door after coming in, but did not step closer.

“Don’t take it out on me. I did nothing.”

“Yeah, I think that might be the problem. You never do anything. The perfect son,” snarled Sirius, in a well-rehearsed course of action.

“What d’you expect to get when you insult the whole family? Couldn’t you just go along with it for once and say what she wants to hear?”

Regulus was frustrated, but his controlled manner paled in comparison to the ire running through his older brother, who jumped off the chair, not caring about the noise.

“I’ll never stand by while she badmouths my friends,” he said, barely restraining from shouting. “But of course you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. You’d need to have some friends for that.”

The jab hit Regulus as hard as Sirius had intended and his pain was plainly visible on his face. He refused to regret having caused it.

“I just came to see if you were all right, you imbecile.”

Regulus practically spat the words before turning around and taking hold of the doorknob.

“Hurry up and move along, then. I’m fine.”

Regulus opened the door and stared back one last time. His mouth was a hard line and his eyes glistened. He looked too old for his age.

“You’re a liar.”

IV.

Have you ever been trapped with no option to escape?

It was the middle of the night of a perfectly ordinary day, but Sirius could not sleep. Luckily, it seemed that neither could Tom.

Most people have at one point or another, came the answer, swift and vague as ever.

His friends were taking too long to reply to his letters and Prongs had forgotten the two-way mirror at home when he had packed for his holidays. Talking to Tom felt just as good, though.

More letters appeared in the centre of the page while he was lost in thought.

What matters is your ability to break free when the time is right.

What is ailing you this time? I can tell you didn’t steal an enchanted diary to complain about your house-elf’s cooking.

Their correspondence was getting more familiar and Tom did not hesitate to cut his ramblings short. Sirius decided not to beat around the bush, either.

Do you come from a pure-blood family?

I have old blood running through my veins, yes.

Sirius had never felt so grateful for Tom’s pretentious nature. He had a feeling the other would understand.

They burnt my cousin Andromeda’s face off the family tapestry. She has married a Muggle-born, so they say she’s tarnished our blood.

And you fear to suffer the same fate?

I’d fear to stay in this house forever, but

He hesitated. Sometimes, he felt as if he were offering up too much information, although nothing he had said so far was truly a secret.

she is my favourite cousin.

The words faded away slowly, as if the diary were absorbing Sirius’s strong feelings behind them, too.

I think she’s forgotten me, he wrote in a rush, feeling extremely self-conscious.

That time, Tom seemed to take an eternity to answer.

Pure-bloods are good at holding power, but their short-sightedness will be the death of them.

The words took Sirius aback and he did not think about his next response.

I thought you fancied that blood crap.

I told you. What I may believe or feel is not important. Ignoring the talent of those who do not fit the ideal perfectly will hardly do us any favours.

Sirius blinked, uneasy at how reasonable Tom sounded. He needed to think, so he wrote goodbye and returned the diary to its safe place. After a while, he realised he could contact Andromeda once he was back at school.

VI.

Sirius skimmed through Prongs’s last letter. He still needed to get back to Moony and Wormtail as well. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake off the feeling that his friends were far too predictable. James told him all about his brilliant family holidays, whereas Remus was as bored and lonely as Sirius. And he really could not bring himself to care about Peter’s latest crush.

On top of his apathy, he was worn out all the time. The bright side of it was that he was usually too tired to pick a fight with his parents. He spent most of his time locked in his bedroom, listening to Muggle music or just staring up at the dark ceiling —or writing to Tom. Sirius could not consider him a friend since the bloke had not revealed much information about himself. Yet, during their exchanges, Sirius did not feel quite so sad or angry, just sort of entertained.

There was only a week and a half until the beginning of the new school year. The rest of the Marauders would not be surprised if Sirius told them he had been too lazy to reply to their last batch of letters. Thus, he picked up the diary, willing to forget about the world for a while.

VII.

You didn’t write yesterday.

Sirius felt a pang of culpability upon seeing the message. In fact, he had felt guilty ever since school had started. Normally, he waited until his friends had gone to sleep to take out the diary and write on it, sheltered by his drawn drapes. At first, he had looked forward to that nightly encounter, even if it made him feel like he was lying to his friends. During the day, Moony and Prongs were set on finding out what was wrong with him. Nothing Sirius told them stopped their nagging. He could admit he was bloody irritable around everyone those days, but it did not truly warrant their insistence. At least with Tom he had not needed to worry about reining in his temper so as to avoid worried looks.

Nevertheless, eventually, even Moony had let the matter of his bad mood drop. It had led to a more relaxed atmosphere in their friend group and, for the first time since their return, the previous night Sirius had gone to bed knackered and happy and, especially not feeling like he needed to seek out someone else’s company. Frankly, he had not thought Tom would care, but now the guilt rose back up and it was not because he was hiding something from his friends.

I was busy.

It was a lame excuse, but Sirius told himself he did not need to explain his reasons to a perfect stranger.

Hanging out with Hagrid again?

Distaste dripped from the ink of every one of those words.

No, planning a prank for a greasy git. He won’t know what hit him. Sirius’s smirk vanished before it fully formed. He frowned, still thinking about Tom’s comment. What have you got against Hagrid, anyway? He is all right.

That is because you do not know what he is capable of.

Sirius rolled his eyes at the condescending reply. He had known Hagrid for over three years and, while the man had his quirks, he was one of the nicest people Sirius had ever met.

Another sentence appeared as the first one was absorbed by the page.

Want me to show you?

He read the question a few times, trying to understand what it could possibly mean. Tom had never implied they could send anything other than messages through the diary.

“Can’t you– What are you doing?”

It was barely a whisper, but he had already jumped when Moony drew the curtains back and so, he ended up spilling ink all over himself and the diary. His wand was knocked off as well, falling to the floor with its tip still lit up. Sirius barely spared a glance at his friend as he attempted to get away from the mess.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry,” Remus apologised right away. Turning around for a moment, he retrieved his own wand from his bedside table. “I’ll clean it up.”

With a circular movement, he managed to summon the ink and get it back into the bottle. The diary was intact, not a black trace on it, although Sirius suspected not all the ink had been collected by Moony’s magic.

“Thanks,” he grumbled, because his friend was looking at him with soft eyes full of uncertainty.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just couldn’t sleep and saw the light from your wand.”

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep, either.” Sirius huffed, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer. “Sit down, for Merlin’s sake. Unlike others, I don’t bite.”

He received a brief, albeit quite powerful glare as expected, which in return brought a grin to his face as he closed the diary and put it in a drawer for the time being.

“Was that… a diary?”

Moony’s incredulity was obvious, so Sirius forced himself to let out a dismissive snort.

“Just brainstorming our next pranks. Prongs and I still have to take revenge on that Seventh Year Ravenclaw prick for laughing at us when Snivellus and Evans dumped us in the lake.”

“To be fair—”

“I don’t want to be fair, Moony. I want to laugh at Mr Brainy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but a long yawn interrupted whatever he was going to add. Right on cue, Sirius also yawned.

“I think I’ll go back to bed now. You should try to get some sleep, too.”

“I will,” promised Sirius, smiling fondly at his always responsible friend.

He drew the drapes and snuggled up under the blankets, having forgotten all about Tom and Hagrid.

VIII.

Guess who is not going home for Christmas?

Sirius was feeling light as a feather and needed to share his enthusiasm.

Did you get your face burnt off the family tree as well?

Not yet, he replied, beaming in the semi-darkness. His penmanship was messier than usual, because his brain was going too fast for his hand to keep up. I’m going to spend the break with Prongs. His parents have invited me to go with them to ski. The entire hols! he added, trying to convey his utter delight, for he felt like exploding every time he thought about the letter he had just received.

My mother will be furious, he kept on, not waiting for an answer. She will have to explain her disgraceful heir has once again chosen blood traitors over the family.

You do realise that, by cutting ties with them, you are only making things harder for yourself, don’t you?

As if I cared. I’m not going to put up with their pompous arses one minute longer than I need to.

Well, perhaps there is something better that you can do at school if you stay.

“What?” Sirius almost yelled, turning it into a whisper at the last moment.

I’m not staying, he wrote quickly.

Why did Tom feel the need to sour his mood like that? He had said he was not upset by the lack of daily updates on Sirius’s part, but he may have lied.

You never let me show you that memory about Hagrid. I could show you things about Hogwarts, places no other person knows about but me.

Sirius felt his hair stand on end. No one should sound so alluring through a written message. Without another thought, he slammed the diary shut and pushed it off his lap. He was suddenly afraid of how much he had longed to accept Tom’s offer.

As if a veil had just been lifted, he realised the diary was an object taken from a family with close links to dark magic and even darker social circles. He had been tired all summer and his bad temper had persisted after getting away from his family. He had only started to feel better once he had stopped writing to Tom every day.

He nearly tossed the diary out of the window, but he stopped when he took it in his hands. Surely, he was overreacting. He had been talking to Tom for months and, even though the other gave him the creeps from time to time, he had felt no dark influences trying to control him. Prongs always said he was paranoid about everything that had to do with dark magic and he reluctantly had to admit his friend may be right.

Tom must be even lonelier than he was to keep him company after all that time, for Sirius would not describe his life as fascinating. He was happier than he had ever been at Hogwarts, certainly, but Tom had put up with his continuous complaints about his family the entire summer. Perhaps it was only fair that he felt ignored since school had begun, because Sirius had indeed been writing less and less frequently as days passed. He felt like a terrible friend —even if they were not such—, so he picked up the quill again, dipped it in the ink and wrote,

Why do you like talking with me?

I thought you were braver. I thought you’d dare uncover Hogwarts’ deepest secrets.

The ink faded away slowly as Sirius found himself unable to tear his gaze away. New words appeared before he could think of an answer.

Let me show you, insisted Tom. It all started when

Sirius slammed the diary shut for the second time that day, although on that occasion his decision was fuelled by blind rage. The urge to know was still there, whispering in his ear that he should continue reading, continue writing. However, another feeling flooded him and he distinguished the sting of something else besides his hurt pride. He was under no delusions that they were friends, but he had hoped —believed— that the other’s interest meant he shared his feeling of comfortable attachment. Sirius had enjoyed being able to say anything without fear of being judged or pitied, but right then, he only felt manipulated.

Truthfully, he had very much longed to know the answer when he had asked why. Instead, Tom had insisted on talking about his own damn secrets and mysteries. In fact, Tom had elegantly sidestepped every personal question and had always sounded more invested in reading about Sirius’s troubles than any good news he brought up.

The hurt cleared his thoughts in the most painful way possible. At that very moment, he could not care less whether he was indeed paranoid or losing his mind. He had itched to know whatever Tom had been about to tell, but curiosity had played no role in it. The pull had been far less innocent than that and, once he could recognise it, he realised it had been there for a while. However, he had never expected that darkness would feel so sweet and intoxicating —so inoffensive.

Damn, he truly was a bloody idiot.

IX.

Sirius had bravely fought the temptation to write on the diary again to curse its very existence and, so far, he had won. Still, he had buried the blasted thing at the bottom of his trunk and only taken it out on their last day before the holidays. He was currently waiting for his brother outside the Great Hall, while the students who had already finished their dinner passed by while animatedly chatting about their upcoming plans.

At last, he saw the familiar pale face and hurried towards the small group of Slytherins.

“Hey, Regulus!”

His brother glared at him, but murmured something to his companions and they promptly left towards the dungeons. Sirius could not help frowning at their backs —if the tables had been turned and it was him asking to be alone with a Slytherin, he would have expected a little resistance from his friends. Focusing his attention back on the younger boy, he saw the scowl was still very much present.

“What do you want?”

Sirius swallowed the urge to snap back, irked by Regulus’s defensiveness.

“I’m not going back home these hols, so I need you to make sure this gets back to the Malfoys.”

He handed out the diary, wrapped in the brown fabric, but his brother made no move to take it. Instead, he asked,

“You aren’t coming home?”

All of a sudden, Sirius felt his mouth dry at the vulnerability clearly present in the question.

“Um, I’m… I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that bad, though, is it? Mother will be in a foul mood when she finds out, sure, but I won’t be there to aggravate you all every day.”

His light tone was weak and did not get a reaction from Regulus beyond a renewed glower.

“So what, you want me to deliver one of your funny pranks to Malfoy now that he no longer attends Hogwarts?”

“Don’t be daft, I’d never let you take the blame and steal my spotlight.” Regulus refused to say anything and so, a tense silence ensued. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius noticed they had drawn the attention of some students. He pushed the diary against his brother’s crossed arms. “It’s something I took from them at the beginning of the summer. I’m not interested in it anymore.”

Finally, Regulus took it and started to unwrap it. Sirius hurried to still his hands. Physical contact between the brothers had become rare nowadays, but neither seemed to realise.

“Nuh-uh. Everyone’s always going on and on about how you’re so much smarter than I am, so show a bit of brains. It’s one of those diaries you can’t stop writing on. Took me a bit to figure it out.”

It was not all the truth, but he did not know what the diary was exactly and hoped it was enough to deter Regulus from giving in to his own curiosity.

His brother was still looking back at him with plenty of mistrust in his clear eyes, but he would not keep an item like that —Sirius was sure of it.

“You can give it to Cousin Cissy,” he joked, breaking the silence once more. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted to have a reason to call on the Malfoys and insult the white sheep of the family at the same time.”

He wanted to add something else, either wish Regulus good luck or happy Christmas. In the end, the right words never came to him and his brother walked away after uttering a curt, ‘Goodbye, Sirius.’

It turned out that getting rid of that diary was the best decision he had made in a while. James’s parents had also invited Remus and Peter to their winter house for a week —carefully chosen by the boys so that Moony would not have to deal with any furry problems.

Not even Walburga’s Howler managed to shatter his happiness. It had arrived one morning, while they were all having breakfast. Sirius had prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole when he had seen Euphemia’s and Fleamont’s faces as they heard the usual string of slurs and threats —fortunately, Prongs was used to those Howlers by then. For a very long moment, Sirius had also feared what they would think of him after learning he was a thief.

In fact, he had barely dared look up when an ominous silence had returned to their table. However, it had soon been broken by a new string of voices, only that time there was a mix of indignation and reassurance and it was all in his favour. Sirius’s eyes had been suspiciously wet when his friend had clapped him on the back and he had had to talk the adults out of seeing Walburga Black before they went back to school.

Even if he did not manage to find an excuse to stay at Hogwarts during the next break, he would not have to face her in months. It was a very freeing, hopeful thought. He knew that his little stunt would bring other, more serious consequences eventually, but he was not very worried about whatever hell his mother had promised. Hell could not scare him when he already knew what it was like to live in it.

#Harry Potter fanfiction #HP #Sirius Black #Young Sirius Black #Marauders #Prompt #My fics #100 Followers Celebration #*

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douxie-casperan · 3 years

Note

[✂, ↕?]

The prompt below was specifically requested to be the Heart of Glass AU and features the Bad End! The second prompt will be done at a future date.

↕ - A memory that may or may not have happened

Looking back on it the signs were there of something being wrong that couldn’t be seen being blind as they had been. Things like how Nari slowly began to close herself off haunted with sadness that they couldn’t remember seeing there before but it was evident in her eyes. She must have been hurting so much but kept putting on a brace face anyway to not make them worry and always brushing off any attempts to ask until the questions simply stopped coming. Everyone deserved privacy right? They just figured it was something that would sort it’s self out but within days of the last time they ever spoke to her she simply vanished into the night almost as though she was simply holding on that little bit longer for one of the erratic visits to come. It didn’t make the sting any less painful when word came months later when even Skrael and Bellroc began to worry over her absence. There have been more than a few sleepless nights spent wondering where she is, what she was doing, if she was simply okay that were left unanswered.

They have three reminders of the trio of beings who took him in that they always carried with them, one is etched in ink, there is the staff they love dearly even when keeping the existence of it a secret and finally the left hand which had been the first gift from Nari herself which had been carried for so many centuries of their life. This one let them be something more than useless that they would have been condemned to be otherwise making it was worth all the stares, the snide remarks and any problems it caused hundreds of times over. Now down to two, these almost felt haunted.

The other thing should have been a red flag right from the start but when you’re so traumatised and barely able to hold a thought together for more than a few seconds everything is taken at face value because beyond that is simply too much to bear. Archie confirmed she had been there to see them before Killahead while at the time they had been passed out with barely more than a handful of waking hours since it happened. She said that the Order had promised to keep the two of them safe and that she would return after ensuring that all of them would live without being in fear ever again. She wouldn’t of course, thanks to him they wouldn’t see one another again until they were living in the far-flung future of Arcadia not knowing that she was being held right beneath their feet plotting her own freedom with or without help.

Nothing comes for free; they knew that better than anyone yet never once thought to question what the price that had to be paid for such a promise to be had. It was spun to them as a means to prevent the extinction of magical beings at the behest of a mad king but it was far more than that wasn’t it? It was the ability to live without persecution being bought on the back of conquering the other to ensure it, never about restoring a balance already upset by the actions of one old man. It was so obvious and yet, and yet.

The blindfold was ripped away with a few simple words of clarifying truth and the anger it causes is barely contained any more than the magic desperate to lash out in retaliation against their own sister who stands there with helmet held in hands and a pleading expression in emerald eyes that he would somehow see her reasoning. A familiar dragon is perched on their shoulders glaring just as much bristled with a twitching tail and both can hear the echoes rattling about their brains repeating again and again of what led them here.

All of this was for you, all of it to make a world where nobody would have to suffer like you did! Gunmar is merely a means to an end for that paradise to finally come forth into reality.

At the cost of everyone else you mean, did you think for a second I'd ever want that?! Just because I suffered never meant I wanted anybody else to as well!

That was our deal, Douxie. If they would keep you both safe I would accept their power and become the Champion of Magic and right what my brother wrought against us, it was only a matter of time before we were all put to the sword and this was my one chance to finally make things right.

He's long gone! Bellroc felled him at the battle didn’t you know? His era is dead and the legacy he left drove everything underground but having a bunch of trolls running around eating people isn’t exactly going to fix everything. That’s not balance that’s genocide!

“… I’m gonna ask them myself, I want to hear the answer from them directly and if you really do care about what I think you’ll help clean up this mess you gave an open invite to instead of yanno going after the actual problem who is probably waiting for his grand moment,” is hissed whilst summoning their own staff to hand ready to use for a very specific spell reserved only for emergencies. What could be a bigger one than knowing?

“You’re older than me and I kinda liked to hope you would know better, Morgana. In case you missed the memo there’s only one person I have it out for and it sure as heck is not an entire planet full of people.”

The base is tapped and with a few whispered words a shimmering crack appears beside them that is barely visible except where the light catches the edges.

“Be better, please? Not exactly asking the world here but if I can avoid becoming jaded despite literally everything that has happened to me then I can’t see why you’re so determined to swan dive into it. I wanted you back so much, I’ve been trying so damn hard for so long to have that but right now I can’t really stand to even look at you if you can think this is remotely okay.”

“Douxie, please we can still fix this.”

They say nothing, merely giving her a soft smile before the two of them disappear beyond her reach with all the consequences she has wrought.

It was all true, Skrael said so himself. Oh it was attempted to be played as somehow being a mercy that they’d been kept in the dark this entire time, of how despite so much time there had been to tell the truth that went by wasted, the same amount that could have been used to change their minds and work towards a better solution they had instead sought out something even worse than what she’d unleashed on the world fancying a bit of annihilation on a far larger scale instead. It made their heart hurt so much, why did everyone think for even one second they’d be okay with it? Any of it? That somehow being allowed to pick favourites would somehow make it magically acceptable despite knowing people that mattered to them personally could be spared while the rest would be damned?

They said culls about us too remember? All for the greater good, just a few sacrifices and spare the lot, send them forth and you’ll go free. You sound like he did.

He was… cruel, and he used you, Hisirdoux. We kept you safe; we protected you. We didn’t force the weight of the world on your shoulders- you were a boy! A young boy! You never should have had so much pressed upon you! I was only ensuring that you wouldn’t have to feel that again! You do not deserve what happened to you. Not again. I will not take part in doing that to you, not like he did.

Why were they the only one who wasn’t completely blind to what they were all heralding?

And yet didn’t stop you lying to me did it? You can’t pull a greater good on me I’ve heard it all before. Different century and it’s the same garbage. I’m tired.

Just… Let us make this right, Hisirdoux. Please. You can rest, here, Hisirdoux. You can rest, now. And in the morning, we can make it right. I can make it right.

Just tell us what we need to do and we will do it! We can’t lose you too.

It was almost ironic that this was the one time it wasn’t his fault; really it was their own if anything for believing anybody could be better than that instead of being a simple flip of the same coin. If people ended up suffering for the greater good well now that was worth it for the result because they didn’t matter, not really being little more than unnamed masses. Even Nari, one of their own, was somehow seen as an acceptable bit of fallout in the name of a false balance despite knowing she would feel each and every one of those lives being wiped out… It must have hurt to look at them, an example of both why it had to be done and why it should never be, she might have even hoped their being there might convince her siblings to change, to realise the same thing too.

They would not it seem and continuing was slowly taking everyone else down with it. Douxie did tell them both that they hoped they might yet see reason, the why, and realise why they never should have been contemplating it in the first place, of not wanting to leave and how unless they change, well they might never see one another again so please don’t try to follow. Nari was not the only one who could disappear after all as was the downside of having a very good teacher in how to do it properly and took the lessons to heart. It was probably only Archie’s presence that gave them the strength to walk away without looking back instead of breaking down crying right there over the bitter losses that were totting up one after the other though admittedly the final hug very nearly pushed them over the edge. It felt like the picture-perfect description of bittersweet.

After that things are barely held together by the thinnest of threads while the apartment is cleaned out. Nothing of importance was ever kept there but there were some things that needed to be held onto and were added to their most precious belongings taken from their room at the fortress before the argument began as an unfortunately correct precaution. Afterwards there was a key to be handed in with the words of it was simply time to move in, one place would have a notice and an apology for the suddenness while the other gained a sign saying closed until further notice knowing that the coven would likely pick over the best bits like vultures the second permission is given but they won’t mind particularly because at least anything dangerous will be removed. Right now all they care about is getting out of Arcadia and as far away as possible from the life they’d carved out there and all the traces he had tainted it with. He who had swept in taking them from their first home offering a new beginning with a home and family just to back a tyrant a few years down the line leading them to their second one just for history to repeat it’s self again and leave them in complete free fall. No lost limbs this time though, a small upside if forced to find one.

After removing the card and destroying their phone to lessen any chance of being tracked the two of them took the motorbike that was as battered and bruised as they are and rode silently through the night not caring where they would end up because anywhere else would be more than they could hope for. It’d been a while since they were last forced to rough it but they’d manage because if Douxie and Archie were anything it was survivors in a world that hated them for it and there was a lot of practice between times able to settle for any length of time. It would take three days before they felt there was enough distance to feel safe enough for risk a temporary break. The place was cheap but private having no problem with a cat companion and they were surprisingly fine about the request for a few more pillows in their room. That might have been the charm offensive and sheer exhaustion helping sell the need for it mind, was hard to tell.

Piling them up in a circle on the floor with a few blankets that had been pilfered including a few special ones that were very old, they simply flop onto them and then finally, finally allow the tears come that are without any sign of being able to stop. Within a few choked breaths a purring shape manoeuvres himself into their arms only to become louder from how tightly he’s being squeezed while a face is buried into his fur. They miss how the brand-new phone bursts into life until a voice that they felt they hadn’t heard in forever comes from it.

“Doux? Hey is that you? The hell are you I’ve be- There’s a pause upon catching the sound of someone trying to cry their heart out and her tone instantly becomes an awful lot more worried.

“Hey, hey are you okay did something happen?”

At first there is little more than the sound of snivelling and a mumbled nonsensical apology repeated over and over. She waits patiently, trying to soothe as little as she can while trapped on the other side of the speaker not even able to see what’s going on. There’s a few hiccups and stuttered starts before she finally gets the answer and of all the things in the world she could have expected this was not one of them.

“I- It happened a-again… Zoe, I, I’ve lost everything. You, you are Archie a-are all I’ve got left.”

#flamekeeperbellroc #No facts truer than a good meme #Heart of Glass

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bangtan-madi · 4 years

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Interlude: First Life

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 3.4k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 3.5 / 15

Warnings — relatively none, minor language, brief mention of death in childbirth

Previous — Next

{Paris, France — 1789 a.d.}

If there's one place on earth that you feel safe in, it's the garden surrounding the Chateau. With the large trees giving shade from the afternoon heat, the overgrowth of flora that attracts a variety of birds and insects, and the expansive maze of roses that covers the remnants of the grounds, it's a magical wonderland that's kept private for your family alone. When your father is away on his lengthy excursions around France, and the staff is busy keeping up with his home, you're left in utter peace to recline amongst nature and contemplate the state of the world.

You've concluded that there are a lot of things that have gone terribly awry in recent years. The citizens of Paris go hungry every day. Children are left without parents. Families are torn apart by famine and war. Endless war. Fear, anger, and hopelessness run rampant through the streets like gutter rats.

Even in the modern year of 1789, the aristocracy to which your family line belongs has refused to do anything but suck the lifeblood of your country dry. They consume and destroy and tear the meat off the bones of your beloved France.

And your father is one of the worst there is. Your grandmother, the one who raised you, always told you to trust in yourself and in her family's power. She promised you that no matter how cruel or unkind your father, or the world, might be, you can always count on yourself.

"You have magic inside you, mon cherie," she would tell you every night. "One day, that magic will lead you to love."

"Why didn't it lead Mère to love?" you'd asked one day.

Your grandmother merely stopped what she was doing and laid her leathery hand on your head. "It led her to you, did it not? To you...and the garden outside your window."

Ever since then, the garden has been the place where you feel your mother's presence, but it's also the place where you harness her family's magic. The power that flows in your bloodline grows stronger every day, and when you reach your early twenties, it multiplies ten-fold.

Without control, your grandmother warns that your only escape will start to wilt and wither. And though you never intended, she's right.

One morning, you awake to a shriveled garden outside your balcony.

And a very angry father.

"What the hell happened here!" he shouts, storming out of the doors below your perch and into the supposed greenery. His eyes are wild and angry, nostrils enlarged as he fumes at the groundskeeper for not doing his job properly for a full five minutes.

You'd been on the end of that rage yourself. Not wanting to be caught in the cross-fire, you pull back the curtain and shield yourself from his view.

"Sire, it's become a terribly dry year," the groundskeeper says, giving one last attempt to console your father. "Everyone is suffering. It's part of the reason that the Third Estate is so restless."

"I don't care about the peasantry!" he bellows. "The Third Estate is the scourge of France. The only reason they exist is to keep the wheels greased and the treasury full. Drought or not, my garden should be blossoming. You find someone else that can properly do your job and you make yourself scarce! I never want to see your face again!"

Your grandmother finds you on the floor next to your balcony window, partially shielded by the curtains. She gives you a soft expression, extending her hand to you to help you to your feet.

"It's growing again, Grandmère," you whisper. "My spells are getting more powerful. I—I almost killed the garden this time. If Père ever found out..."

Your sentence trails off, and Grandmère puts her palm against your cheek. "Mon cherie, if you ever get the chance to leave this place, promise me that you'll take it and never look back."

"But I wouldn't leave y—"

The elderly woman shakes her head, moving a single finger to your lips. "—Never look back. Promise me."

Despite yourself, you nod once, and your grandmother places a kiss on your forehead.

True to his word, before the week is over, the usual groundskeeper is nowhere in sight and a new one has taken his place. You meet him while in the garden, though the last thing you expected was for a boy your age to sneak up on you while you were collecting a few herbs for your next spell.

"You must be Princess [Y/n]?"

Jumping back, you turn and face the strange man with wide eyes and hands clasped tightly around a handful of Mimosa blossoms, Yucca leaves, and Life Everlasting blooms.

The person standing in front of you isn't bad looking. Quite the opposite. He has an alluring aura about him that goes beyond the wavy black hair and honey skin. Behind his warm eyes and boxy smile, there's a uniqueness to him that you've never seen before. Even with a mother that wasn't French, you'd never seen someone like him.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man smirks a little before responding. "I'm the new groundskeeper? Your father hired me this morning. I hate to think of what happened to the other one. I saw him leave through the front gate when I arrived. He didn't look the best."

Your eyes soften, and your guard drops. "If you knew this job was going to be hard, if you knew my father was cruel, why did you take it?"

"We all have our reasons, right?" He gestures to your hands. "Such as why you're holding all of the living things left in this place?"

You shove the flowers and herbs into the pocket of the white apron, laid over your casual dress. "This is my garden, Monsieur..."

"Kim. Kim Taehyung."

"You're not from France, are you, Monsieur Kim?"

"What gave it away?" You gesture to all of him, which makes Taehyung laugh.

"Well, if we were going by appearances, I never would've known you were the lord's daughter. You're dressed like a servant."

"You called me 'princess.'" Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows pulling together. "I have no such title...but how did you know I was his daughter?"

Taehyung shrugs and nods to your open balcony door. "I saw you this morning while you were reading on the balcony."

Your face pulled into a scowl. "Why you—"

Taehyung raises his hands in mock surrender, the smile never faltering. "Calm down, Princess. All I'm saying is that you might want to keep your doors closed. You never know when someone might be peaking in."

From that day onward, an unlikely friendship blossoms between you Taehyung. The man is odd, there's no doubt about that, but he's just about the only normal person in your life. The only one you've ever known, actually. He's real and kind and lovely in every possible way.

He comes to the Chateau several times a week for the next several months in an attempt to get the garden back to normal. The winter had been cruel, and the drought unforgiving, but Taehyung brought with him knowledge from other lands, especially from his homeland of Korea. If you hadn't had him explain the science behind his tricks of the trade, you would have thought he had magic in him, too.

"You have to irrigate them well, starting at the upward slopes so that the water can drain back down. Use gravity to our advantage. Then the new system I created will take the excess and bring it to the herbs, which tend to be more resilient than Mimosa, Yucca, or Life Everlasting."

You stare at him with wide eyes of curiosity, watching him as he takes water from the well and pours it into the starting container of the extensive irrigation system. The pipeline crawls all over the garden, out of sight as to not distract the eyes from the beauty. The precious liquid flows and forks into the various braches, giving lifeblood back to the garden.

"I've also been adding phosphorus to the soil," he tells you, placing a hand on his hip with a pleased expression. "That should aid the root systems so that water can be absorbed easier."

You shake your head, amazed and awestruck at what he'd accomplished in a short few months. Turning to Taehyung, you throw your arms around him and hold him tight.

"You're magic, Taehyung. Just magic!"

He laughs at your sudden outburst and embraces you tightly to him. "It helps when you're from a family of farmers. Not magic, Princess, just practice."

Spring comes with thunderous applause and unconfronted feelings. The rain stays, but Taehyung's ingenuity has all but brought the Chateau's surroundings back to life.

Your beloved garden blooms, as does your love for its savior—both of which despite your magic, not because of it.

As spring marches forward, you find yourself spending more and more time together. And while it was as friends or mutual curiosity before, these days you spend in the garden are more than that. There's an underlying yearning for each other, but for reasons you both know, neither of you moves on it.

"Isn't your birthday coming up?" Taehyung asks, out of the blue, one afternoon. He's sorting through the various seeds that he'd purchased using the allowance your father gave him, kneeling down beside the arrangements on the ground.

Reclining against one of the Mimosa trees, you place the pen and paper on your lap. You'd been messing around with a spell idea for a few weeks now, but it's been difficult to get it onto paper. Being with him in the garden aways brought about inspiration, so you came prepared today.

"I overheard some of the staff discussing it," he adds, seeing the question on your face before you verbalize it. "How old will you be?"

You sigh, "Twenty-one."

Taehyung sorts the rose seeds from the marigolds, ensuring that the two plants don't end up in the same soil, which he says will ensure both of them die early on. "Why do you sound so glum about it? Isn't your birthday worth celebrating?"

The side of your mouth tugs into a tiny smile at the sweetness of his last sentence. "Not when your father's insisting that he find a suitable groom for you once you turn twenty-one."

The dark-haired man's hands halt suddenly, his eyes transfixed on the layout in front of him. He slumps back, resting his weight entirely on his knees and lower legs. "And you're not happy about that."

You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself. "Not at all. Especially since I have a sinking feeling I know who his selection will be. He's a son of a wealthy lord on the other side of the Seine. It would be a strategic marriage, completely in my father's favor."

"You don't love him." His observation is not a question.

"Of course not," you scoff. "I hardly know him. I've only met him a few times. He's the last person on earth that I would pick to marry."

Taehyung finally shifts his gaze from the seeds to your face, meeting your eyes. "Who's the first then, Princess?"

His question catches you off-guard and brings heat into your cheeks. "I—I hadn't thought about it, didn't have anyone in particular in mind. Only for love. That's my only requirement."

The foreigner nods once then relinquishes his intense gaze, seemingly satisfied with your reply.

There's a pause before you continue. "This is exactly what happened to my mother. She wasn't French, a foreigner who married my father because it was beneficial. She was forced into this marriage and died in childbirth."

"That's terrible," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

You offer a grateful nod, turning your eyes to the clear blue sky. "Taehyung...have you ever thought about running away?" The question comes out of you, surprising you with your honesty. It's as if it has a mind of its own.

Taehyung cracks a smile. "Princess, I've been running my whole life. I ran away from my hometown to travel the world, to see it all. Never thought I'd end up stuck in France, in Paris of all places, and yet I'm still trying to run towards the New World."

You turn to stare at him in awe. "You're so brave. I don't know if I could do that."

"Do you want to?"

"Of course. I want to be free from this place, free from the future my father has set up for me. My greatest fear is becoming my mother, engaged to a man I don't love and dead after giving birth. My mother wanted the same thing, but she died before she could arrange it. I was lucky to survive being born. Grandmère tells me that I lived because of—"

You catch yourself before you continue, knowing that this story goes into a secret that only you and your grandmother carry with you. You've never told another soul about your magic, not one. Not even your father knows. What would he think if he did? Or worse, what would Taehyung think? Would he think you a freak, something wicked, a pawn of the devil?

"Because of...?" Taehyung prompts. He sees your hesitation in your bit lower lip and shifting gaze. "You can tell me, [Y/n]. Whatever it is, you can trust me."

Taehyung almost never calls you by your real name. It's almost always "Princess." That little bit of reassurance pushes you to continue your story. If this relationship is going to go forward at all, it's time.

Now or never.

"Grandmère tells me that I survived because of my mother's final...final spell. A spell of love."

The brunet tilts his head curiously, obviously not expecting that continuance. "A spell?"

You nod, trying to keep your nervous voice even and controlled. "My mother's family has a secret, one that's passed down from generation to generation. We're witches. Magic runs in our veins. I've been magical all my life, but the past year or so, my power has grown a lot. I've been practicing and trying to get a handle on it, and Grandmère has been teaching me, but sometimes that power is...too much."

His gaze softens as a smile of realization tugs at his mouth. "Hence the garden suddenly wilting overnight. I thought there was more involved than the drought."

Your breath catches in your lungs as Taehyung puts the pieces together. "You're not freaked out? You don't think I'm evil?"

"No," he laughs, scooting closer as to sit in front of you. "Why would I think that? Back home, we have soothsayers and card readers and all kinds of magically-inclined people. I don't think you're evil or anything of the sort."

A wave of relief washes over you, and you slouch back against the tree. Your companion gives an amused chuckle at your state, but you're too drained to make a comment."But if there was magic involved, then the garden shouldn't have come back on its own, even with my help. Did you, I don't know, cast a spell to heal it?"

You shake your head and sit straight once again. "Nothing of the kind. I think...I think it had something to do with you."

"Me?" he asks, surprised.

You nod. "The more time I spent with you, the better you made me feel, the more of a friendship bond we created, the more I felt my magic wane. In a good way! I felt balanced, for the first time in my entire life, and then the garden started to bloom again. I can't explain it. It's like you made me feel like I was safe enough to express magic in a healthy way, not just in a way that could destroy."

Your heartfelt confession makes Taehyung lift his hand to your cheek, cradling your face in a tender way that only your grandmother has. "And you said I was the magical one. Princess, I've got nothing on you." He leans in closer, his warm breath brushing against your face. "Can I kiss y—"

"—Yes."

Taehyung chuckles and closes the distance between you. His lips graze yours, hesitant at first. His are soft and delicate, just as you'd imagined they would be. The hands cupping your face pull you closer, and yours move to his shoulder to balance yourself. Though gentle, the gentle push and shove causes you to smile into the kiss.

It doesn't take long for the gesture to shift from shy to needy, from sweet to passionate. All the pent up emotions you'd both kept inside these past few months come pouring out in the form of hands on waists and hips, fingers desperately gripping clothing and grazing skin, teeth greedily nipping at lips and elsewhere on the face. Taehyung is a passionate individual, but you never really knew how much until now.

Moving closer to you, he pulls you into his lap, adjusting your dress as to let your legs slide to either side of his hips. Pulling you ever closer, he continues to fight for dominance. One hand shifts from your waist to your neck, tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You slide your fingers through his hair, inadvertently tugging at a few curls and dragging an unconscious sigh from Taehyung.

After a few moments, the brunet pulls back. Both of you come up for air, breathing heavily and feeling dizzy. A euphoric feeling rushes through your body, something much closer to magic than you've ever felt. All around you, new flowers begin to bloom. Taehyung's gaze flickers from you to the new flora around you, watching in awe as the flowers grow taller to encase you both in a cradle of spring.

And it's there—in Taehyung's arms, sitting in the middle of a revived garden—that you realize you've fallen in love with him.

His next words come out softer and more tender than anything you've never heard. "Come with me."

"Tae..."

He shakes his head, resting his forehead against yours. "Don't do that."

"Where could we go?" you reply. "France is falling apart. The Third Estate is going to rebel before summer's end; it's all anyone can talk about. There's not a place on earth that my father won't find me. Find us. You know what becomes of us both if that happens."

Taehyung brushes the tears away from your eyes with his thumbs. "He can't follow us across the sea."

The weight of his offer hits you. The sea. The New World. America. Could it really be true? Could it really happen? Freedom and love and life, all at once?

"What about Grandmère? I couldn't just leave her here with that monster."

"Then we'll take her, too!" He presses another kiss to your mouth, pulling back after a brief moment. "I'll have the money by the end of July. That's not too far away. I will do anything to keep you safe, Princess. Anything. Run away with me. We can start over. I've fallen in love with you over these past months, and I know you feel the same."

You nod fervently. "I do, but..."

"But what? But nothing. You said it yourself: if you stay here, your future is that of your mother's. Wouldn't she want you to spare yourself of it?" His hands cupping your face tighten ever so slightly as he sees his argument making an impact. "Come with me. I can protect you. I love you, magic or none. Don't make me lose you."

"I love you, too."

"Say you'll come. Say you'll run away with me."

Heaving a heavy sigh, your place your hands over his and look him in the eyes. "I'll go anywhere with you."

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battletowered · 3 years

Text

Commemoration

Headcanon Drabble in Leon’s “ more severe darkest day au ” verse which I’m reposting and bringing forward to this blog from the archive for the anniversary.

TW: Deals with mourning and major character death.

One year.

It’s hard for him to believe. Leon still fully expects that one of these times when his phone buzzes that his face is going to flash up on screen. That he’s going to get a call and hear him asking to want to meet up and battle or grab some lunch together. He knows it’s impossible. He knows that’s never a call he’s going to get. He could delete the contact. Give himself some kind of finality but… there’s a photo that he’d taken himself attached to that contact. Smiling wide and bright– a genuine one and not just one for the camera. One of the ones that had too much teeth because he was laughing as Leon tried to get his phone back.

His phone has never been so quiet as it has in the past year. It’s been a hard adjustment.

He’d visited this morning. Left two huge bouquets of mixed flowers because there was too much slate grey. Boring, Raihan would have called it, and Raihan deserved something as vibrant as he is… was. The headstone is modest, situated between two cypress trees. It was hard to believe they were already getting so big. Leon had spared no expense on his flowers– sweetpea, rainflowers, carnations, tulips, canterbury bells and most importantly snapdragons, because he knew that the ones named after his favorite type would have made him smile the most.

He’d gone early because Leon doesn’t think he can bring himself to face Raihan’s family. He knows they don’t blame him. They must have told him a thousand times the day of the funeral, though he can’t say he really remembers all that much from that day. Those two weeks following Eternatus’ capture were encapsulated in an ugly grey smear in his memory.

He remembers searing pain in his ribs. Feeling hollow– like something had dug a hole through his stomach. He remembers feeling like he was going to collapse a lot. He remembers the way that his head pounded to the beat of a deafeningly cheering crowd the day he lost his title.

But he barely remembered his own best friend’s funeral. What a joke. How fitting that the self-absorbed champion would have been more concerned with himself and his title during the time he should have been saying goodbye. He’d heard a million reasons why it wasn’t his fault– as if he didn’t already know that. That there was nothing Leon would have been able to do to stop Raihan from trying to protect Hammerlocke because it was his home. It’s still his home.

It feels like one failure among hundreds. Sometimes he still wonders, though, if maybe he could have. If he had just said something different. Would anything have changed if Leon hadn’t stubbornly insisted that he would be fine, but Raihan’s duty was to protect the people of Hammerlocke because they needed him.

They still need him. But he wasn’t here anymore.

That was why Leon was here, actually. At least that’s why he’d lingered after visiting the grave.

He’d assumed that the city would hold sour memories for him. Sure, it did, but not nearly so severely as Leon had expected they’d be. There was something almost inspiring about it, actually, because Hammerlocke had come together and healed the physical scars left by Eternatus. They had held on and healed, and it gave Leon the hope that he would be able to do the same. His mother had always told him that he was named after Dandelions for a reason. There was nothing more stubborn than a weed, the little plants that would keep existing in spite of everything in the world working against them. Perhaps if Leon could do that– just keep existing against everything going against him– then maybe he’d be able to shake that feeling that something was missing.

It would work. He’d made it work before. It had to work. He had no other option. The world wasn’t going to stop and wait on him to piece himself back together. The world didn’t end just because Leon felt like it was.

Still, Leon can see the city is in mourning. Or he might be projecting his own, soured mood. Either way people have been giving him space, and the streets have been so quiet. He appreciates it, honestly. It’s hard to put on a strong face, even on a good day. He won’t let himself cry in public, though he knows his face is red and swollen from doing just that earlier this morning. His eyes and head hurt, but his tears seemed to have dried up for now.

That’s a good thing anyway. He doesn’t want people to worry about him. He’ll be fine.

There’s a huff of breath, and Leon suddenly is reminded that he’d let Charizard out of her ball to help him along. She ceases his forward motion with a gentle, broad wing. He’s so glad she’s good at not getting turned around. She knows the right direction– something Leon can’t manage when he’s not spacing out and irritated. Leon looks up, relieved to see the battlements of the castle already repaired, though just the sight gives him a woozy feeling.

He hears rather than sees it coming as he looks up toward the top of the battlements, the sharp, melodic sound of wings splitting through air just a fraction of a second before he’s slammed into bodily. He teeters, barely managing to keep his footing as he struggles with the momentum, laughing breathlessly.

“Flygon!” There’s the panicked call of Sebastian as he winds his way down the staircases of the castle as fast as his legs will take him. Camilla and Aria follow in tow, though pause to wave at Leon as Sebastian rushes to come help pry the excited Pokemon off of Leon. Leon’s still laughing, though. He can’t help it with the way the large dragon type is nuzzling against him and demanding he pet along it’s head.

-_-_-_-

For a while it’s hard to bring himself to be sad– he’s buried in Pokemon who want his attention. Raihan’s team were always excited to see him, even if he’d just visited them less than a month ago. He likes to come check on them, mostly because he knows how hard it can be for any Pokemon to adjust to sudden change but especially so dragon types. It goes unsaid, of course, that there were other reasons he liked to see them. It always pleased him to see them happy and relaxed.

For a while Leon had been chatting with the Gym Trainers about nothing at all really– at least it was nothing at all to him anymore. Mostly about the league– trying to figure out what to do with the Gym and the adjustments and whether the gym would be capable of returning to the major league or if it should be stepped back while they searched for a new leader.

It’s not hard to tell they miss him. No one has said it, but Leon is perceptive, so they don’t have to. They skirt around outright saying what they know is true– that he’s gone and that it’s been hard to make the adjustment to move on because they’d lost such a force of personality. He knows because he’d seen them mirror his shock and fear and sorrow a year ago. He’d seen them mourning, too.

Now that they’d run out of safe topics to talk about, they’ve lapsed into silence. They just share their spaces on the pitch while they watch the Pokemon mill about. Sandaconda has curled up in Leon’s lap to sleep and Goodra has become a fixture at his side. She’s soaking his coat through with her goo, but Leon doesn’t mind it because she’s coddling him in a way that’s frighteningly similar to the way people do to baby pokemon.

“You should take them with you.”

It was like it all shattered in an instant. Just with those words. Leon’s head jerks upwards in Aria’s direction, blinking slowly as if the statement had confused him. As the realization sinks in, his eyes widen the way a wild pokemon’s might. Aria merely adjusts her glasses on her nose and averts her gaze.

“…You mean Raihan’s pokemon?” Leon lingers on each word. He wants to clarify it even if it’s perfectly obvious what she’s referring to.

“Yes”

“Are they…. Really being that rowdy here?” Leon ventures, meaning for it to sound like a joke. As if to punctuate his discomfort, a nervous laugh slips through his mouth. Sandaconda stirs in his lap because he’s halted his stroking over the Pokemon’s scales.

“That’s not what I… what we mean.” Aria sighs, sounding resigned already. She seems to consider her words carefully before she continues. “We’ve… The Gym Leaders and I have been speaking about it. We’re not trying to just pawn them off on you but… they really do seem to be their happiest when you’re here Cham– Leon.”

Leon would like to keep staring at the grass on the stadium field, but he finds his gaze being drawn up to where Flygon and Charizard are play-fighting with one another. Then to where Duraludon and Gigalith have taken advantage of the warm weather to nap in a patch of sunlight. To where Torkoal and Turtonator are quietly crunching on some snacks just outside of Leon’s direct reach. He can’t say that they look particularly happier than they do any other time he’s seen then, but he supposes he wouldn’t know because he’s only ever seen them in his own presence.

Still… It feels wrong in a way. Those are Raihan’s pokemon. His rival’s pokemon. His stomach twists at the realization that it’s not like he can ask Raihan because he’s not here to say. The idea hurts.

“I shouldn’t.” Leon’s voice is so thin that he doesn’t even recognize it as his own. His throat is tight around this lump that’s forming, and he can feel the pressure at the bridge of his nose that happens right before he’s going to cry. He can’t– not here.

“Why not?” Camilla answers this time. Her tone isn’t condescending or judgemental or goading, just an honest question. Leon doesn’t answer, and so she continues. “You’ve had plenty of experience raising dragon types. They know you well. Just… look at them? Goodra has been sitting with you since you got here and Flygon nearly bowled you over because he was so excited to see you this morning.”

Tight. His throat is so tight it hurts, and ever so slightly Leon’s begun to tremble with the effort to keep his emotions wrapped up within his body.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can. I love them… I’d love to raise them but…” Leon hesitated, not sure what words to use. Speaking about his feelings had never been his strong suit. What is he even trying to say?

That bringing them in means finally having to accept that he’s gone? That there is no more Rival’s team because there was no more Rival. That it feels wrong to take his Pokemon because some deep part of him thinks that he’d never be able to be as good to them as Raihan was because he adored them. That he’d spent years and years watching Raihan with them to know they loved him just as much.

He knows what it means. It means realizing that the Pokemon that he’d watched Raihan raise– some even from eggs– had lost so much a year ago too. They’d lost their guide. They’d lost their best friend just like Leon had. Leon could take them but he didn’t think he’d ever fill those shoes the way that Raihan did.

“I don’t think I’m ready yet. If… I take them in, I want to make sure I can give them the life they deserve.” It’s raw. Entirely too raw the way the words come out, and it feels like something is digging thorns into his chest as he manages to force them out. He leaves ‘the life Raihan would have wanted for them’ out because he knows it doesn’t need to be said. Somehow Leon would have guessed that if anyone could relate to his feelings, it would have been the gym trainers.

They’d been kind enough to give him space the first time he’d come to see Raihan’s team. When he’d cried helplessly and clung to Flygon and Duraludon for an hour while the tar has wormed its way out of his system and the realization sunk in that he was actually gone and that it wasn’t just a bad dream caused by the pain medicine from the hospital. He was sure they knew.

“I’m… planning on moving. I would want to move first, to make sure they have the space they need to run and play. I don’t have that luxury right now in Wyndon. They need exercise. I want to make sure I can take care of them properly and do right by them.”

“But… you’d consider it?”

“Mmm.” Leon hums because he can’t talk anymore without the dam breaking. Leon nods, though, so they know he will, indeed, consider it. There’s more than what he’s said too. So much more. He wants to feel stable. He wants to know that he’s not going to look at Raihan’s team and feel the urge to cry as much as he does now, because he misses him. He wants to make sure they don’t come into a home only to be stressed by Leon’s own baggage. Sandaconda presses it’s snout into the warmth of his hand, and it’s enough to shake loose the somber laugh that’s caught in his throat. “I don’t think I could ever actually add them to my team. I’m pretty sure Raihan would come back and haunt me for stealing his weather strategy.”

They lapse back into silence for a long moment. The quiet is deafening even around the sound of Goodra cooing and the soft crunch of Pokemon eating. Even around the groans of Charizard and the song-like beating of Flygon’s wings and the two wrestle around each other. Leon sighs, and leans back a little more against Goodra.

“Thank you.” Leon’s gaze darted up again toward the others. Aria mumbled it, but the other two nodded their agreement. “It’s been… hard on them being separated among the three of us and… We really do think it’s what he would have wanted for them.”

It’s those words that do it. Leon could swear he feels his frayed emotions snap as he raises a frantic hand to try and stem the flow of tears which are already coming. Goodra, finally picking up on his trembling now that he’s leaned against her more, fusses with him, tucking his body under her neck and letting out a bubbling coo.

Leon’s heart wrenches in his chest and he feels sick at the stressed flipping of his stomach. He hiccups to try and breath around the rock that’s sitting in his throat but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to will the tears away this time so he’s left to feebly wipe at them with the sleeves of his coat. He’s a cup that’s been overfilled, and now that the tension has given out his emotions are leaking out.

“I know.” It’s all that Leon can manage before his throat tightens too much for him to speak.

#ooc || off the clock #Drabbles || Written Histories #queue #Verse || Mourn with the moon and the stars up above

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sunlightwoo · 3 years

Text

Maybe In Another Life

☀︎ pairing: soulmate!eric x g.n reader x soulmate!sunwoo

☀︎ wc: 7.1k

☀︎ a/n: this is now... my longest fic up to date and i’m impressed with myself these last few weeks since january when i started this idea but also concerned,, however: IT IS THE 18TH OF MARCH SOMEWHERE IN THE WORLD SOOOO happy 19th birthday to me hahaha :) i decided to celebrate my birthday with this painful love triangle i wrote for myself with my ults and to be quite honest guys, no i am not okay HGUSEOGJNAEHSOUGJ anyways, i wrote this based on these two tiktoks : TT TT2 | and i hope that you guys liked reading this as much as i liked writing this!!

[ gina is listening to: daisy - pentagon ]

“He still hasn’t picked you up yet?”

Your head whipped over to look at Haknyeon, your coworker that was finishing up wiping down the last of the tables of the restaurant and you gave him a small smile as you shook your head in response. It had been over an hour since your shift had ended, and usually on days that you’ve had a long shift like today, your boyfriend Eric would have picked up since the busses would not be running that late at night.

Even though he had often been busy at the dance studio that he was often found at, he always made time for you to go on the little, but meaningful, dates that you always treasured. You remember falling in love with Eric slowly, but surely, as he had been nothing but caring and acting as though you were close to one another long before you had realized that you were soulmates.

And you loved him.

The sound of a car going off brought you back to reality as you notice the car headlights shining past the window and you recognize it to be Eric’s car. After bidding your goodbyes to Haknyeon and grabbing your stuff, you tried to outrun the rain that poured as you had gotten inside the car to see Eric holding a bouquet of flowers in front of himself towards where you were looking at him with a surprised and curious expression.

“What’s the occasion, Sohn?” You teased as you took the bouquet into your own hands, raising your eyebrows at him while he was already giving you a playful look on his face.

He wasn’t wrong; these last few weeks have been more off than you had felt it where it was days like today that made you think about how distant you were with Eric, compared to when you first started dating. You remember the vibrant colors that flew in when you first met him, remembering that the colors of the sky when it rained were gloomy, but still more colorful than you had imagined with monochrome, and since then you remember all of your colors being more and more full of love and illuminance.

“I love you, Eric.” You say with a small smile on your face, hand still in his as he started to drive once again while you were on your way back home and the three words that were reciprocated from his own lips made you feel full of love.

“I love you, too.”

You were currently sitting on your couch with your phone in one of your hands, humming to yourself as the other was brushing through the soft locks of Eric’s hair in your lap. The two of you had decided on a lazy day and were currently waiting for your takeout that you had earlier to arrive as today was one of the few weekends that both of your schedules had synched up for a date night at home, and you were excited for it.

Despite the fact that you had thought about the idea of the color draining from the night weeks ago from the sky when you looked outside, all of the remaining colors of your life remained vibrant as you weren’t as worried as you thought it to be. You continue to go through your phone and hum when suddenly a giggle erupts from Eric that you look at him confusedly for a moment, when his eyes locked onto yours in a split second as a small smile paints his face.

But he had never giggled around you like that, not in a while and you were confused as to what might’ve initiated it now.

“No, but I’m guessing one of your friends texted something funny to you that you giggled?”

You watched as his face reddens for a moment at your words, and you were even more curious at what he might’ve been looking at on his phone that made you wonder what he might’ve been giggling about. However, it seems as though he might’ve caught onto your thoughts when he shakes his head in response and suddenly shows you a picture of who you recognized as some of his friends, Sunwoo and Hyunjae from the stories that you’ve heard, messing around at the studio they danced at.

“They’re just being dumb again,” He chuckles and sits up for a moment just as he mentions the both of their mere existences, “Reminds me, Sunwoo is actually coming over to give back the spare clothes that he borrowed the other day because he tore one of his other clothes the other day.”

For almost a split second you were nervous; you had never met any of Eric’s friends except for Haknyeon since you worked together, but in the three years that you had dated and been soulmates with him, you had never met all of his friends that he’s mentioned before. You were pretty sure that they knew of you, considering there were moments that he had come home playfully complaining about how they teased him about your existence, but you were also amused and confused at the very thought of never introducing you to his friends.

Was he embarrassed of having you as his soulmate?

Just as you were about to speak up, the sound of the doorbell rings as you close your lips shut, watching Eric leave from his spot on the couch to grab the front door as it leaves you with your thoughts once more. It drowned out the loud chatter that came from the duo that must’ve been at the door and the more that you had thought about him never introducing you to his friends, the more you wondered how much of your relationship was actually real considering the fact that these last few months, or almost an entire year, you had been having dates in your own home when you were able to have the time to.

“Prove it that your soulmate is real, Eric.” You hear someone say at the door, and you could only assume that it must’ve been Sunwoo, when suddenly the view of the two entering your living room is present in your line of vision.

You smile at the new individual that you had yet to introduce to and let out a small wave, when you notice how he had stood there with a nervous, but also an unknown expression on his face. On the other side of the spectrum stood Sunwoo with his mind suddenly in places that should not be in the areas that they were in.

When he had first heard about his best friend having a soulmate of three years, he wasn’t sure if they were even real because even though they had been friends since high school, never had Sunwoo once seen a picture, or even met the said soulmate that Eric speaks so highly of. However, now that he was standing in your living room seeing that you were real, he feels like he had been struck with cupid’s love arrow mixed in with all the possibilities of soulmates even existing.

All because his mark of the red string was tied to your pinky finger, even though you were already someone else’s soulmate.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Sunwoo, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You softly say and he nods in response, just when he hands over the bag that was slung over his shoulder over to Eric, before turning back towards where you both were standing.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too. Y/N, right?” He reiterates, making you nod in response and think about how you feel just a twinge of guilt from the fact that maybe you overthinking it all earlier and doubt Eric shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

“I’ll go and take my leave, since I am assuming you guys are having a night to yourselves, but don’t let me stop you.” He chuckles awkwardly, turning to greet his friend goodbye and leaves out of your apartment before you could even let out a goodbye, however you thought that maybe you should get to know him more considering that both him and Eric were well friends.

It was one of your goals that you plan on accomplishing and you could only hope that maybe you could understand why the color that was draining from your life was becoming more and more evident.

“Hey, where are you heading out to?”

The sound of Eric’s voice ringing out from behind you makes you turn around from where you were standing at the front door and you noticed how the colors that were in your vision were duller as his neon pink hair that you knew he had recently dyed became more monochrome. You didn’t want to jump to any more conclusions since the last time that you did had ended up where you both didn’t talk for almost a week and it was because you were scared of what was yet to come.

“I’m just going to grab some lunch with Sunwoo. I thought you had to help Changmin with the choreography today?” You ask as there was a small hum that escaped his lips when he closed the water bottle in his hand with its cap and you wondered why the small glance that he was giving you sent chills down your spine.

“I was going to get ready, but you’re going to hang out with Sunwoo again?” He replies to your question, and you nod in response just as you stood your ground from where you were still standing at the door.

For the past several weeks, you had been hanging out with Sunwoo on the days that you knew Eric would be busy on your free days as you wanted to be friends with him, given the fact that he was Eric’s best friend. However, with the price of somehow spending time with Sunwoo apparently had the cost of the other being more distant, as you found him staying at the dance studio longer than he usually would stay, even if it was later into the night.

Along with the distance that was created between you and Eric, the colors that you once adored while being with him continuously became duller and you knew what it was. You could tell that something was wrong with your soulmate bond with him, and you didn’t want to make the same conclusions that you made the last fight you both had, but who were you to judge when all the color in your life was slowly draining out?

The sound of a car horn brings you out of your stare down with Eric and you watch as he disappears back into the kitchen without another word, leaving a small pang in your heart that left you unsettled just as you decided to walk out the front door. You notice how Sunwoo was giving you a small smile by the time that you had reached his car and mumbles for you to seatbelt just as he starts up the car again.

From Sunwoo’s end, he knows that you were soulmates since he could never ignore the red string that was connecting his pinky to yours. However, he also feels guilty knowing that you were oblivious to that information, along with the fact that you were also somebody else’s, his best friend’s. He doesn’t know when he would ever confess to you that you were soulmates, because he knows that you would probably pick Eric anyways because of how long you’ve been together as a fated pair.

He never would’ve wished it upon himself to be the person to break a soulmate bond, even if it was for his own selfish needs.

Which was why he chose the selfish way out and continued to get closer to you just as friends, knowing that you were Eric’s soulmate and not his as the two of you were currently grabbing some lunch at a nearby burger and boba joint.

Sunwoo shakes his head at your words with a smile on his face just as he puts down the burger that was in his hands, taking a moment to finish chewing before he could speak again. If anybody were to look at you both from the way that you were unknowingly looking at the other, they might assume that the two of you were on a date, and you couldn’t help but think about Eric again as there was a flash of a frown that appears on your face until you remember that you weren’t out with him right now.

“It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to pay me back, today’s my treat, remember?”

You do remember, as the last time you guys talked about grabbing lunch was the day that you and Eric fought as he walked out the front door to cool off. That night you had called Sunwoo to see if the latter had arrived at his best friend’s apartment, in which he did, making you relieved as he had asked you for your side of the story when Eric had fallen asleep in his guest room. You had fallen asleep to reassuring words from him that the two of you would figure it out in the meantime, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Sunwoo’s words left a warmer feeling in your chest more than usual knowing he still has yet to meet his soulmate.

Was it normal?

“Sunwoo, what’s your soulmate bond, if you don’t mind me asking?” You say while crossing your arms on top of the table, curious as to what the latter’s bond was because he had never once mentioned it in your presence whenever you two had met.

And maybe the both of you realized something that you shouldn’t have known, because the rain outside that was downpouring became louder than the ringing that was in your ears from your pounding.

Maybe this was a mistake.

You were now living in constant fear, but not for the reasons that you had thought it would be because of. It was another rainy day, but this time in mid-August as the colors of your life around you almost matched the grey and gloomy clouds that were storming above you. The sound of your heart constantly pounding in your chest was making you nervous every time that you woke up next to Eric, unsure of whether or not the breaking point of your relationship will actually end.

You couldn’t even remember when you had last exchanged I love yous.

Your stomach churns at the mere thought of an empty feeling that used to be so filled with love and care, but now all you could ever feel around Eric was the constant worry of whether or not he still loved you. Did he even still love you, you think to yourself as the reasons why the colors draining from your vision erupted in your mind.

They would only leave if one of you had lost the love for the other, but you didn’t want to think that Eric didn’t love you anymore. You knew that he always loved everyone, platonically and romantically in your case, with his entire being to the point where he would always be willing to put their needs before his own. Could it be any different that he stopped loving you as the distance between you both grew deeper and farther?

The sound of the front door being opened and slammed shut makes you look away from where you were working on a new menu for the cafe, only to see an upset Eric walk straight past you and into the kitchen as you were suddenly confused at the sudden act.

“Is everything okay, Eric?” You called out to him quietly and just as the words had left your lips, he reappeared from the kitchen with an exhausted look on his face before speaking up.

“What’s your problem-”

“You, you’re my problem and I hate it.”

“Everyday when I wake up next to you, the colors from my life start to drain and I know that it’s the living guilt that I created for the both of us-”

“Then when did you stop loving me, Eric Sohn?”

“The first downpour, when I gave you those flowers.”

That place somehow ended up being Sunwoo’s apartment after running in the rain for almost half an hour.

Your hand was raised to knock on the door, the thought of him possibly being busy past your mind as he opens the door with a confused look on his face, until he realizes that you were shivering drenched from head to toe. After dragging you inside, he takes it upon himself to grab some xtra clothing and blankets so that you could dry off, but he was concerned at the way that you had stood in the middle of his living room with no words leaving your lips to explain why you had run in the pouring rain.

“I think me and Eric just broke our soulmate bond.”

With those words hanging in the atmosphere of Sunwoo’s living room, there was a broken sob that already slipped past your lips as your knees buckled from beneath you, making you kneel with your head low crying with your arms hugging yourself. You were definitely feeling the immense pain that came with the slight sever of your soulmate bond and you weren’t sure what was even worse, the fact that you might never have another soulmate again or the actual heartbreak itself.

“I-”

“Can I wash up in your bathroom, Sunwoo? I don’t want to get sick in your own home.” You mutter almost inaudibly, not wanting to talk about it with him when you notice how he nods just slightly, before handing you an extra towel and the spare clothes that he had earlier for you to wear.

You walk out of the bathroom and head back to the living room to where you last saw Sunwoo, but it sounded as though he was in the middle of a call with someone, making you wonder who might’ve been calling since it was close to midnight. It wasn’t until you had gotten closer that he finished up the call and made eye contact with you, however there was a solemn look on his face that made you feel uneasy, since you had never once seen him in this scenario where he had looked like he was hit with bad news.

And it was.

“Hyunjae called from the hospital,” He whispers quietly as you noticed that there were tears in his eyes this time around, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and you could feel a lump in your throat with newly fresh tears that were already threatening to leave your eyes once again.

“Eric passed away in a car accident.”

A little over a week passes by.

You were currently collecting your thoughts and leaving the funeral home where Eric’s funeral was being held, heart feeling heavy as you were slowly walking back to your car in silence. There were many things that you wanted to say to his family, ones that made you want to apologize a million times for not being enough for him, but you also have heard his side of the story from Hyunjae the night that it all happened, because he was on the phone with Eric seconds before the accident.

There was something that made you feel sick as you sat in the passenger seat of your car, waiting for Sunwoo as you noticed something out of the corner of your eye; a speck of color. You weren’t sure how it could’ve gotten there as you were pretty convinced that the universe wouldn’t be able to give you another soulmate so soon, and why would they when you had lost touch of all color as soon as Eric passed?

The sound of a car closing beside you makes you turn to see Sunwoo, who had the keys in his hand, in which he was already looking back at you with a curious, but also concerned look.

“Are you okay?”

Those three words felt heavy like a lump in your throat as you wondered whether or not you should answer it with the utmost sarcasm that you can spare, or the truth. In the last week of mourning, Sunwoo had always been the one to check up on you despite the fact that he had also been mourning in his own time, the loss of his best friend feeling unbearable, but he didn’t want to go through the pain alone.

It was cruel of the universe to take him away from you, Sunwoo thinks as he remembers holding onto your shaking figure the day that Hyunjae had broken the news to him and his heart aches at the memory of you looking helpless. He hated how much you were in pain for the last few days, where it was hard for him to get you to eat meals and sleep during proper hours when you weren’t crying, but he knew that you also felt bad for having him around; yet somehow he didn’t mind it.

Sunwoo’s heart was now pounding in his chest and there was a feeling of dryness that was suddenly in his throat, words caught up in it as he wasn’t sure where he could even step in to tell you what he had been dying to tell you the last few months. The red string on his finger felt like it was tightening by every second that he was with you, but he wasn’t sure how you would feel about it, especially after the events of today.

“Sunwoo, I want you to tell me the truth… Are you also my soulmate?”

The light turns green and Sunwoo drives again, this time the tension that was between you both growing heavy as you were waiting for his response, when all he wanted was to buy some more time. He didn’t want to tell you the truth now, not like this as you were regaining color into your sight again, but it was almost like when you had asked him that question, his pinky had burned from the string that made him almost flinch at the pain it had inflicted onto him, which was why he had pulled over to the side of the road so that you can talk, without any other distractions towards any of you.

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth when we first talked about it, Y/N.”

“Sunwoo, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s not your fault that all of this happened. If it was meant to be, then I guess everything leading up to now was meant to happen…” You breathed out, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes when he suddenly reached over to hold your own hands into his, “But I’m going to need some time to just let this sink in. I want to be sure that it’s you, okay?”

“Sunwoo, what if we did this-“

“Sunwoo, no-“

“I think I knew back then that I was connected to you at some point, Sunwoo, with or without the red string visible to my eye.”

There was a shaky breath that left your lips as you finally felt a sudden weight lifted off your chest, seeing as though you were somehow finding your own way to move on from Eric’s passing. It wasn’t ideal, considering it was by testing the waters to see if Sunwoo was actually your soulmate, or if it wasn’t real since you weren’t even sure of what was happening in the moment, but you knew something was there.

“Maybe during another downpour, we’ll see what happens.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me head out early it means a lot.”

You look up from where you were currently cleaning up behind the counter of the glass case that was once filled with delicious sweets, giving Haknyeon a small smile in response as you waved him off.

“It’s not a problem, Haknyeon. Besides, you better not be nervous because anybody who says no to marrying you will regret it.” You teased, watching the male stand at the closest table to the counter of your co-owned cafe blush a bit at your words.

“He’s here to take me home, just go propose to your soulmate already.” You grinned, watching as Haknyeon gives you a soft smile and leaves before he can get caught in the rain tonight.

With an amused look on the latter’s face, your eyes met with Sunwoo’s, who had been standing against the counter that you were currently cleaning. There was an umbrella in his hand, along with a familiar jacket that you must’ve forgotten to take with you, but he brought it anyway because he knew that you would’ve gotten cold from the rain.

Two years have passed since you remember talking about the effects of a downpour with him, the sight of it making you feel various emotions as you stared at the red string tied at the end of your pinky of your left hand that was almost parallel to the ring on your ring finger on your right. After opening up your new co-owned cafe with Haknyeon months after you and Sunwoo decided to play the long game, the rush of colors came along with that new success as you knew that it was for all the times that you have spent with him.

“Do you think he’s watching us, from up there?” Sunwoo suddenly mumbles softly, your hand in his as the sound of the soft drops of the rain hitting your umbrella resonates from on top of you guys and you hummed in response, nodding as you smiled and kissed his hand gently.

“I think he’d be happy that his best friend is the one to save me from being soulmate-less for the rest of my life, instead of someone that I could be with that might hurt me.”

The tomorrow is unpredictable and you weren’t sure what could happen to any of you by then.

“I know Sunwoo, and I know that you love me, like I love you.” You reply and suddenly you are pulled into his arms, hands cupping your cheeks as he places a soft kiss on your lips as you kiss him back and smile against his own.

There were small bursts of giggles that came from you at the flustered feeling of him spontaneously kissing you, but the shimmer in his eyes said elsewise as you knew that even though the entire universe was held in them, they were only meant for you to see. A galaxy that was meant to be lost in, but somehow you knew right where you were as you were both standing underneath a shared umbrella on a night of downpour, but this time it was flushed with colors and vibrant illuminations that made you feel ignited especially with him.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

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stillebesat · 4 years

Text

Meeting Romeo

Sanders Sides: Virgil, Roman. A Prequel to: A Work of Art Blurb: It was unfortunate really, but someone had to tell the Romeo standing on the street that his Juliet he’d come to listen to day after day no longer lived in the apartment complex. It might as well be Virgil. Inspired by: An Anon who asked: okay, I ADORE "A Work of Art" but I have questions. Like... how did Ro and V meet? What was the start of their relationship like? Fic Type: General, Human!AU Overall Fic Warnings: None.

In a smooth, well practiced movement as he approached his apartment, Virgil perfectly framed the familiar handsome figure standing on the sidewalk in front of the building on his phone’s camera screen and snapped a quick picture.

Romeo’s back and about to be heartbroken. He captioned the image with a quirk of his lips, posting it online before he’d taken two steps.

It would be unfortunate really. The poor fool had been standing outside his complex for the past month and a half like many other love-struck simpletons had over the years, his heart obviously captivated by the demonic angelic voice of Virgil’s neighbor, famous Broadway Singer, Mary Lee Foster.

Well. He supposed her last name wouldn’t be Foster anymore since the singer had gotten married last week and moved out to some mansion with her new husband, Lee.

Mary Lee and Lee. That wouldn’t be confusing at all to people.

Virgil slipped his phone into his pocket, pulling his hood further over his head, exhaling.

It was unfortunate she’d chosen to move out now. Romeo had been a great source for his Cryptids in the Big City vlog because the dude never showed up in the same outfit twice, even if he did keep that same dreamy-eyed love struck look on his face every time Virgil caught him staring up at the complex while Mary Lee’s constant singing wafted down to the street below.

Because of her marriage, this would probably be the last time he’d see Romeo and Virgil would have to find another source to keep his followers entertained since he’d had to put his My Roommate is a Cryptid posts on hiatus with Steve, the now Master Chef, moving out four months earlier.

Well, it wasn’t like Virgil couldn’t easily find another roommate. With the constant inflow of people moving into the city to follow their dreams there was a never ending flow of applications coming his way whenever he posted the Room for Rent sign in one his windows facing the street.

But so far...none of them had had that IT factor that Virgil was looking for. The right combination of characteristics that would keep his followers online entertained...without stressing Virgil out sharing his living space with them. It was a tricky balancing act.

“She’s gone you know.” Virgil remarked as he approached, fighting to keep from laughing at how Romeo, dressed today in a prince’s uniform of all things, jumped at his voice.

He had that effect on people.

“By Odin’s Eyepatch.” Romeo swore, his ears turning pink as he placed a hand over his red sash. “Where in the blazes did you come from?!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, shooting a thumb over his shoulder. “From up the street, Princey. You so captivated by her that you forget other people exist?”

Romeo blinked. “Her?”

It was his turn to frown. Surely the dude wasn’t that dense. “Mary Lee? Famous singer. Girl you’ve been listening to? She moved out a week ago, Romeo. Got married.”

“Oh. Uh.” Romeo raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, ears growing nearly as red as his sash. Which judging by how the color was creeping over his eyebrows meant that this guy was wearing some sort of foundation to hide his full on blush.

There was a good reason to be embarrassed, Virgil supposed. It probably wasn’t everyday Princey here got called out for staring.

Romeo shook his head, looking back up at apartment complex. “The girl who misses her High C half the time? I--I wasn’t here...for her.”

Virgil scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets. “Mhmmm and I’m Batman.”

Romeo made a face. “Did your batcave burn down then, Bruce Wyane? I didn’t think your hideout was in the middle of a city.”

Oooh. Virgil smirked. Getting touchy. “No need to be embarrassed, Princey. Lots of guys have stood where you’re standing--”

“I said I wasn’t here for her, Dr. Gloom! I was---” Romeo gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he turned away, loudly exhaling. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

Oh, no way was this guy leaving now without giving him an answer. If it wasn’t for the girl then why-- Virgil moved in front of him holding out a hand. “Can’t be stupider than what I thought you were doing before, Romeo. Come on. Tell me.”

Princey scoffed, trying to step around him. “Why does a gremlin like you want to know?”

“This gremlin, which thank you for the compliment by the way, lives here and is very curious. So you can’t blame me for wanting to know after seeing you pining away day after day after day after day--”

Romeo groaned, throwing up his hands. “Stop. Geez! It was the the sign, alright? I was staring at that.”

Huh? Virgil pushed his hood off his head in case the fabric had distorted the Prince’s voice. “Come again? A sign?”

Romeo let out a defeated sigh, gesturing towards the complex. “The For Rent sign up there. I was staring at that, okay? Just--” He shook his head, lowering his voice. “Daydreaming about living there. It’s just a--a perfect location. Close to school, my job, most auditions--” He trailed off, struggling a shoulder. “I told you it was stupid.” He muttered.

Of all the things he expected, Virgil would never have thought that Romeo was staring at his For Rent sign this entire time. “Well…have you applied at all?” He asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept. Surely he would have noticed--he couldn’t have missed an application submitted by this guy--had he?

Romeo gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Like I can afford to live here on a waiter’s paycheck, Bats. The landlord would kick me out faster than I could move in.”

A waiter? He’d been to dozens of restaurants in the city and none of them had the variety of costumes Virgil had seen this guy wearing. “And your job requires all these--” He gestured to the Prince costume. “Outfits?”

Romeo shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “No--auditions. I’m an actor. I just got done with one.”

Actor. Virgil fought the urge to roll his eyes. He should have known. He’d had his fair share of applicants say they were aspiring actors. It never turned out well. “Ah.”

Princey gave a polite smile that didn’t suit his face at all. “Mhmm. Hope to make it big one day, get my name in the lights.” He waved a hand vaguely around. “Yadda yadda, it’s not an uncommon dream here, so you’ve probably heard that before.”

Virgil gave a low chuckle, nodding. “Oh, only a thousand times or so.” Yet he found himself intrigued anyways. Here he’d been lamenting that Romeo would no longer be coming around...only to find out that the guy was more interested in his For Rent sign than in Mary Lee. “Is that what’s stopping you? Just the rent?”

Romeo raised an eyebrow. “I just told you I’m a waiter, Count Woe-laf. Of course it’s the rent. What person in their right mind would feel comfortable living with a guy who may or may not have the money ready by the first of the month when most of my paycheck is dependent on tips? They’d have to be-”

“Crazy?”

Princey nodded, looking up to the sign. “...Yes.”

It was crazy. Virgil could feel his heart rate increasing at the mere thought of the guy missing a payment.

And yet.

His posts about Romeo had been some of his more popular ones with his followers. To have this guy as his roommate...it had some potential. A lot of potential actually. It would mean he could finally resurrect his cryptid roommate series.

But seeing Princey on the street was one thing, living with him would be a completely different monster to tackle. Virgil tugged at the strings of his hoodie. “What if money wasn’t an issue? Like...the landlord wouldn’t mind it being...late, so long as you paid by the end of the month or something? What else would stop you from applying to be this guy’s roommate?”

Romeo frowned, raising an eyebrow as he turned to Virgil. “Stop me?”

“Like...things you think would annoy him? What do you do that you think others would hate?”

Romeo ran a hand through his hair, giving a half shrug. “I don’t know, man. I would--” He shook his head. “I would have said singing as I do have to practice for auditions and roles that I get, but if they’ve lived next to--”

“Mary Lee.” Virgil supplied.

“Yah her. I doubt they’d have a problem with me doing the same. Especially since I’m barely home as it is, what with my classes and my job and all my auditions.” He ticked the points off his fingers. “I’d be more of a ghost roommate than anything honestly.”

Well...that upped his cryptid status for sure. Only seeing this guy at odd hours would make it interesting, especially since Virgil didn’t keep normal hours himself. Plus if the dude was barely ever home...there would be less of a chance of him getting annoyed by Princey’s...antics.

“I see. So you’d be the leaving an empty jug of milk in the fridge, rotting dishes in the sink, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor sort of ghost roommate?”

Romeo wrinkled his nose. “What?! No!--okay the milk one maybe, but I’m working on that! But it’s not like I...I---” His eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger to Virgil. “Why do you even care, Bats? I answered your question about why I was staring, why would you--”

Took him long enough. Virgil drew in a breath. Time to bite the bullet. “Well…it’s my For Rent sign.”

If only he could pull out his phone and take a picture at how big Princey’s eyes got. Because he was sure no human’s eyes were supposed to grow that large. Virgil’s fingers twitched in his pocket, tempted to snap a picture anyways. The guy would find out soon enough how often he used his phone...if he still wanted to apply that is.

Romeo licked his lips, chocolate colored eyes darting between Virgil, the apartment, and back to Virgil again giving him a quick once over. “...oh.”

Virgil smirked, fighting to keep his own uncertainty hidden from Princey. He knew he wasn’t much to look at compared to this guy. But their conversation had gone well enough up to this point. He didn’t dislike the dude...yet. Was intrigued with--well what living with Romeo would be like. “Still interested in joining the batcave, Robin?”

Roman ran a hand along his sash, biting his lip. “You...wouldn’t say no?”

Virgil tilted his hand back and forth. “I mean, you still have to pass a background check.” He wasn’t naive enough to trust the guy flat out just because he put on a Prince costume. “Sign a contract. You’ll probably want to first see the inside of the place and your potential room. Oh. And--” He gestured to himself. “Not mind having a gremlin as your roommate.”

Princey’s ears went dark red at that comment. “I didn’t mean--”

Virgil tugged his hoodie back over his head, hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake in giving this guy a chance. “I said I was cool with the nickname, Romeo.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t been nicknaming the guy right back without Princey throwing a fuss. He turned for the front doors, pulling his keys out and jangling them as he moved away. “So you wanna come inside and check out the place or are you content to keep this dream of living here just a dream?”

He jumped, barely stopping himself from hissing as Princey suddenly appeared right beside him, bumping his shoulder. “Well if you’re offering, Batsy.” He winked, a bounce in his step as he raced up the stairs to the main doors. “I wouldn’t mind checking out this secret hideout of yours.”

Taglist in Reblog.

#Meeting Romeo #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Virgil #Roman #A Work of Art #Anxiety #Creativity

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astxlphe-fics · 4 years

Text

Atsukyou Week Day 1 // Roleswap AU

@atsukyouweek

There is a boy with a bomb on the train, and if Kyouka can save him, then maybe she can save herself too.

(Platonic atsukyou)

Word Count : 4 296

Content warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence

Basically the train scene with Kyouka and Atsushi swapped. It was pretty fun to write uh.

“Thank you for your help, Kyouka-chan,” Yosano says as they carry the groceries on the train platform.

Kyouka doesn’t say anything, glancing up and nodding quietly, but Yosano doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll hide some of the sweets for you, so Ranpo won’t snatch them away,” Yosano continues with a quick wink. They walk onto the train and take their seats.

She eyes the man from earlier, who is carefully avoiding their gazes. When he bothered Kyouka about bumping into him, Yosano sent him groveling at her feet and he ran with his tail between his legs.

In Kyouka’s opinion, considering Yosano’s anger, he was lucky to have kept it, the tail.

“...Thank you,” she says quietly. “About earlier.”

“Don’t worry about such trivial things.” She waves her hand dismissively. “So, I heard you knew Dazai before you joined us?”

“Not really.” She thinks back about Dazai, whom she dragged out of the river just a few days ago. “I’d heard about him.”

She knew him only by reputation — Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia executive turned traitor, the one the boss still refuses to replace.

There isn’t much talk of him, unless you managed to pull Akutagawa or Chuuya into a rant, and what information she gathered during her past six months as a Port Mafia assassin was enough for her to recognize him as soon as he told his name.

He looked at her, eyes wide and round, before he laughed, recognizing her as a fellow turncoat.

“I killed 35 people,” she said that day— she ran away from the Mafia with the full intent of killing herself, at some point, but she ended up saving a man instead.

“So what?” he answered, and gave her a chance.

Or maybe it was him who saved her, the lines have blurred since then.

And so, she’d been hired, passing the agency test, though no one but Dazai — and probably Ranpo, smart as he is — knows of her background.

She is snapped out of her recollection as the loudspeakers let out a high-pitched sound.

“ An announcement from the driver's cabin ,” the loudspeakers sputter out. “ I apologize for the intrusion! Now, I am about to conduct a little experiment!”

The voice is familiar, one Kyouka has encountered several times before. She blanches, hand closing tight around Yosano’s arm. “That’s—”

The voice keeps going, enthusiastically announcing the passengers would be the subject of the experiment. Then, the train churns, shaken by a sudden explosion.

“Do you know who that is?” Yosano asks, having noticed her reaction.

"Did two or three people just die~?” the voice continues. “The next blast will do better than that! I have installed bombs at both ends of the train — enough to blow everyone up!”

“Kyouka-chan?” Yosano insists.

“Motojiro Kajii,” Kyouka answers, trembling.

Yosano stills, recognizing the name. Kajii, despite being in the Mafia, is still a bomber and explosive specialist well-known of the authority and, as a result, of the agency.

That Kyouka is able to recognize him by voice is a whole other can of worms.

“Well then, hello Kyouka-chan~" he calls in a sing-song voice. “ We’re here for your head, and if you you’re careful all those passengers may not be blown up all the way to heaven...it’s up to you!”

So, the Mafia is coming for her already? She joined the agency barely two days ago, how did they find her so quickly?

“We don’t have a lot of options,” Yosano says, deciding the aforementioned can of worms will have to wait. “Either we let them take you, or we jump out of this train with dozens of passengers. Or—” she sets her hand on her hips.

“We fight them?” Kyouka suggests. She doesn’t want to face Kajii, she would need to use Demon Snow to beat him, and right now this is the last thing she wants.

“I’ll got at the front and take care of the bomber. You go look for the bomb at the back.”

“Kajii has a special ability too.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes.” At Yosano’s questioning glance, she elaborates. “He is immune to lemon shaped bombs. He uses them to fight, especially if he is fighting up close. It allows him to stay unarmed while doing a lot of damage to his opponent.”

“Thank you,” Yosano says. “This information is precious; I’ll keep it in mind.”

Kyouka nods. “Be careful,” she tells her, because she knows Kajii and how dangerous he is despite appearances.

“Don’t worry.” Yosano pats her head with a smile. “We’re the Armed Detective Agency.”

Taking that as a reassurance, Kyouka takes off, running towards the back of the train.

If Kajii is the head of the squad behind this attack, then maybe he’s the only one with an ability. The bomber at the back, hopefully, isn’t as strong, ability or not, and she may be able to take him without using Demon Snow.

She pushes past the crowd pressing around her until she reaches the second to last carriage, fully expecting a group of black-clad, armed men to ambush her at any moment. Instead, she runs straight into a teenage boy.

“S-Sorry!”

“You shouldn’t stay here,” Kyouka tells him. “You heard him. There is a bomb.”

“I know— I—”

Her instincts tell her something is wrong. The boy is a few years older than her, white haired and golden eyed, and she doesn’t recognize him at all. He is pale and looks just as scared as everyone else, but something is wrong.

He is dressed in black.

There is a gun strapped to his belt.

Then, he starts running past her, further towards the back of the train, and she runs after him until he’s cornered in the very last carriage — one the civilians have already evacuated.

“I— I’m Atsushi.”

“Kyouka.”

“I know.” He gulps, and his hand closes around the handle of the gun at his belt. “I’m supposed to keep the bomb safe,” he says, “and kill you.”

Atsushi doesn’t look like a mafia operative, but neither did Kyouka in her days. He is obviously a newbie, but it doesn’t make sense. Kyouka, before being a traitor, was regarded as a competent and powerful assassin, so why give this kind of task to a newcomer?

It doesn’t matter. Two days ago, she would have welcomed death gladly. She doesn’t deserve to live — she has killed 35 people in six months, her ability exists for murder, and her skills revolve around assassination.

But now her wish has changed.

“You’ve killed 35 people, so what?” Dazai said. “Does it make you unsuitable for the agency?”

She thought so, but Dazai is suitable for the agency despite having been an executive, and she passed the test — a test of character, for them to see how willing she is to help people in need.

Glancing back, she looks at the civilian in the next car. If she doesn’t find the bomb, they’ll die.

If she can save them, with her own skills, maybe she can truly believe Dazai.

Maybe she can give herself a chance. Maybe it’ll be okay for her to continue living in the light, to help people in the hope that one day she’ll earn her right to be alive.

Clutching at the phone, at the only thing she’s left of her mother, she shifts her position, moves herself in front of the open door and draws her blade, standing ready to protect them.

Atsushi’s hand shakes, and so does his gun.

Getting him to tell her where the bomb will be easy. He’s so scared of her it’s a wonder he hasn’t spilled his guts yet.

“Where is the bomb?” she asks.

“It’s—” He winces, and his free hand flies to his ear — an earbud, she notices. Someone is giving him orders from afar. Maybe Kajii? But if Yosano is keeping him busy... “If you try to escape, I’ll set it off.”

Someone on the other side shuts him up just as he goes to say something else, giving him more orders, and Kyouka takes advantage of his distraction. She adjusts her grip on her blade and moves. Her blade slashes through the teen’s shoulder, sends him sprawling backward on the ground with a scream of pain. He clutches at the wound, gasping, and she moves again, cutting his cheek.

She doesn’t want to kill him; she just wants him to talk.

“Where is the bomb?” she asks again, more forcefully.

The cut on Atsushi’s cheek heals before she can blink. So, he does have an ability — a healing power, then? Those are quite rare, but not suited for battle, making the fact that they sent him even stranger.

Pinching her lips, Kyouka attacks again, and he reflexively raises his arm to protect himself. She tries to hold back before she cuts through it too deeply, to avoid cutting the limb off, but her blade suddenly comes to a stop.

The teen’s arm has changed shape, stopping it before it could make damage. It’s now covered in fur — white and stripped with black — and his fingers have elongated in long, sharp looking claws.

He stares up at her, wide eyed, and they have changed too, now bright yellow with slit pupils.

“Oh—” His breathing becomes even more erratic. “It’s coming,” he says quickly, agitated, “I’m really sorry.”

And his whole body shifts. His skin boils over, his muscles distort and he lets out a pained grunt, killing intent rolling off him and Kyouka has to take a step back, fear only now starting a crawl up her guts.

A giant, white tiger stands in front of her, snarling.

“We are looking for a beast ,” Kunikida explained as he joined Dazai and her for dinner the night they met. “A giant, man-eating white tiger. The military police asked us to find it and dispose of it.”

The tiger the agency is looking for belongs to the Mafia.

All of Atsushi’s fear seems to have faded now that he is in his tiger form. He looks at her, eyes full of rage, and pounces.

Its claws rip through her clothes and sink into one of her arms, and she is thrown backwards, back hitting the train seats. Pain throbs through her but she doesn’t scream, merely grits her teeth and takes it.

Kyouka is a fool, sometimes. Underestimating the scared-looking teen was a mistake — has he been biding his time, camouflaging his killing intent, waiting for the moment he could transform and take her by surprise?

It attacks once more. She tries using her blade to fight back, but a single swat of his paw is enough to break it. Her body screams in pain as he hits her, and the severed half of her weapon clatters uselessly upon the floor.

She may need Demon Snow for this one. She grits her teeth, closing her eyes.

Her ability is good for nothing but battle, and she used it to murder 35 people under Akutagawa’s orders. Even before then, it killed her own mother. She doesn’t want to use it. But as the tiger looms over her, teeth bared, she knows she doesn’t have a choice. If he kills her, it could go after the civilians, and Kyouka will have been unable to save anyone .

The ghostly woman appears behind her, now bound to her will by the president’s ability. She takes in a deep breath, shoving aside her hate and disgust for it to focus on the fact that she is using it to save innocents.

It’s coming. I’m sorry .

She still can’t shake off the wrongness of the situation as Demon’s Snow cuts through one of the tiger’s legs. The suddenly missing limb throws him off balance and he collapse, but it doesn’t take long for it to grow back.

This Mafia newbie is a giant, regenerating tiger.

She doesn’t understand.

Why not set off the bomb like he threatened? Why keep up with the act until last second? Why is there still something wrong?

She thinks about the last six months, about Akutagawa’s orders coming from the phone and her ability reacting to it, outside of her control. She didn’t really want to kill anyone, but her ability had still obeyed.

It’s coming. I’m sorry .

It's not an act.

“You don’t control it,” she says out loud, staring up at the tiger. It stares back — there is nothing of the scared Atsushi in its eyes. “And you don’t want to kill me.”

The Mafia must have taken in another person with a destructive ability to make murder his life purpose, just like they did for her. She feels a twinge of sympathy for him — maybe, if she could convince him to show her the bomb earlier...

It doesn’t change a thing. Atsushi can’t hear her now. She closes her eyes, gripping her weapon tight. She doesn’t want to kill him either. But the civilians are her priority, she has to do everything in her power to keep them safe.

This isn’t Atsushi anymore.

The beast charges, and Demon Snow meets it heads on. Blood sprays around them as she cuts the tiger again, trying to slow it down. It heals fast, and she needs to be faster.

Distracting it with Demon Snow, she runs towards it. Another hit from the beast has her bones creak and protest, but she can’t give up. If it goes on a full rampage, bomb or not, everyone on this train is dead.

She slides between its legs and stabs its belly with what is left of her weapon. The beast roars and trashes, it tries to claw at Demon Snow, who avoids it. The metallic door bends and shatters under the blow. The people in the next carriage scream.

Before it can heal, she stabs it again and rolls out of the way. Demon Snow catches her and helps her as she jumps, grabbing onto the fur, until she’s on top of it.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You’re just like me. I wish — I wish I could help.”

Her halved, jagged blade sinks deep into the back of the beast’s neck.

It shakes, and throws her off, stumbling. Its legs folds from under it, and she sees the strange, eerily glow of its eyes fade as its body shifts again.

Leaving Atsushi curled up on the floor, groaning in pain.

Atsushi coughs, one of his hand massaging his nape. It’s already healed, just like the cuts on his stomach. He looks up at her as she presses her blade to his throat, eyes roaming all over her, taking in each of her injuries.

She’s still standing, and there is something like relief in his eyes when he sees it.

“Why,” she asks, breathless, “do they send someone like you against me?”

“It’s—”

The ear bud has fallen off and he is now palming around, trying to find it, until gaze fixes itself on something close to Kyouka’s feet.

When she glances down, she sees it. The communication device has fallen there. Careful not to move her weapon and cut his throat by accident — though she now doubts it’ll actually kill him — she steps on it, crushing it under her shoe.

No orders will come for him anymore.

“It’s a test.”

She almost lowers her weapon in surprise. “A test.”

He nods. “I am — a beast,” he tries to explain. “A beast of calamity. I bring misfortune to everyone around me. My life has no worth at all if I can’t be of use to someone—” he licks his lips. “Akutagawa said—”

Akutagawa. Of course, it’s Akutagawa . He must also be the one who convinced him he is a calamity.

“Akutagawa said, that if I kill you and protect the bomb, I will have proven useful to him, and they’ll keep me and show me how to control the beast.”

“And if you fail?”

“They’ll sell me — there is this organization looking for me, the Guild? Or the military police, he said they will put me down. But—” he shakes his head, and his voice’s pitch rises. “I don’t want to hurt you, or anyone! ”

She almost asks why he didn’t just say so — but the answers come to her by itself as she remembers the earbud she just crushed. If Akutagawa was on the line, Kyouka doesn’t doubt that, at the slightest hint of Atsushi trying to explain, he would have blown all of them to kingdom come.

First, they need to defuse the bomb.

“The bomb,” she says instead. “Tell me where it is.”

Paling, Atsushi tugs at his white tie, undoing it, before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it open to reveal part of his chest — and the bomb strapped to it.

She can’t, for a few seconds, breathe. Her knuckles turn bone white as she clenches hard around the handle of her blade.

The bomb is on him. Akutagawa put the bomb on him.

She doesn’t expect the sudden rage bubbling under her skin.

“Okay.” She says, trying to stay composed. “We will take it off.”

She can still save him. She can still keep him safe. She can save the passengers and Atsushi.

Kneeling besides him, she takes a look at the way the bomb is attached. It would be more prudent to carefully undo the strap than try to cut it with her weapon.

“He’s wrong,” she suddenly says. It’s been bugging her since Atsushi said it. “You’re not a calamity.”

“What?”

“Akutagawa is lying. He told me that my life only had value if I killed people. So, I did. But—” she shakes her head, looking for the straps holding the bomb to his chest. “I'm working on changing it, which means he was wrong. He will make you into a calamity if you obey him, but you don't have to. You can still get away.”

“Kyouka-san, I brought a bomb in this train.”

“So what?”

Compared to 35 people in six months, one bomb they’re working on defusing is nothing.

She looks at him in the eyes, serious. She wants this point to get across, to show him what Dazai showed her.

Unlike her, he hasn’t truly harmed anyone yet. If people like Dazai and her can have a chance at something different, at giving their lives the value they want instead of the one others want to give it, Atsushi can too.

“I put all those people in danger—”

“So what?” she says again. “Do you wish to hurt anyone?”

“No!”

Her fingers close around his wrist, steadying his trembling hands. “Then what do you wish for?"

“I want—” He choked on his own breath. “I want to fix this.”

“We will,” she promises and he looks at her doubtfully. “I’m from the Armed Detective Agency. It's my job to help now.”

It seems to calm him down, and he smiles at her tentatively. "Thank you."

She is just about to resign herself to cut through the straps when the speakers come to life.

“Announcement from the driver’s cabin!”

Yosano’s voice echoes through the train, and both Kyouka and Atsushi look up to the nearest loudspeaker

“Is Kyouka-chan alive? ” Yosano asks. “ That bomber wasn’t actually that much to deal with. According to him, the bomb on your end is set off remotely. It’ll blow fast if not defused properly too— is that right?” A soft mumble is heard through the speaker — Kajii sounding very out of it. Yosano hums in approval at the reaction. “The only way to defuse it is with the emergency button, that the Mafia member on your end has.”

Turning to him, she extends a hand without a word.

“Ah—” Atsushi stands and dusts his pants, before taking a remote out of his back pocket. “Yes, I have it.” He holds it out to her, allowing her to take it. “Here.”

Kyouka studies it. It’s a simple remote, with a single button at the center, but there is a gnawing suspicion in her guts. It’s too easy.

Akutagawa would never let them get away so easily — send a newbie so obviously unwilling to harm anyone with the only mean to defuse the bomb? That’s practically asking him to disarm it and make a run for it.

Was he counting on her to kill Atsushi swiftly and try to defuse it on her own? Did he think the prospect of being caught and killed — or sold to whoever gave the Mafia the most money — would be enough of a deterrent? Did he believe the promise of acceptance, of giving his life worth, would have him cave in and obey?

Atsushi looks at her expectantly, biting his lips, twisting his fingers. He tries hard not to show how terrified he is, and Kyouka nods at him, attempting to be reassuring.

She presses the button.

Her phone rings.

Heart pounding in her chest, she freezes.

The phone — Akutagawa used it to control Demon Snow, but she didn’t want to get rid of it anyway. It was what she had left of the mother her own ability had killed, and he couldn’t take that away from her.

With a shaking hand, she flips it open, and Akutagawa’s voice echoes from the other side. “ He pressed it, didn’t he?”

Her eyes fly to Atsushi, who is trying very hard not to move, and she makes herself sound more confident for his sake. “Leave him alone.”

Atsushi slowly backs away from her, but her focus is back on the phone.

“How cute, ” Akutagawa says dryly. “Don’t take it off, weretiger. Kyouka decided to take all the passengers with her.”

“Kyouka-san—”

She whips around. The bomb makes a ticking noise, and she drops the phone. It clicks shut as it bounces on her chest.

“Take it off,” she orders, but Atsushi takes another step back instead, towards the gaping hole left by the tiger’s claws earlier in the fight.

“It’s too late. I’m sorry — I— It’s my fault everyone here is in danger.” He’s speaking fast, words almost mixing with each other. “They’re right, I only bring trouble and bad luck but— it’s better if I —” His jaw clenches, and the fear fades from his eyes. “I want to fix it. It's the only way.”

He is getting closer to the edge. The train is passing over the river and the drop, on top of the explosion, would probably kill him, the explosion too close for the regeneration to kick in fast enough.

He’s going to jump, and it’s like she can’t move to stop him.

"I made this mess and my life has no value anyway, so if I can do something right—” His heels come to the edge of the drop. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t—”

“Thank you, Miss Detective.” Atsushi smiles at her. “You helped a lot.”

He falls.

Kyouka runs.

She jumps after him, Demon Snow materializing in front of her, pulling her downward until she can wrap one of her arms around him. With a quick work of her weapon, her ability cuts the bomb free, and Kyouka grabs it with her free hand, flinging it away from them.

It blows in a jumble of unbearable heat and ear-piercing sound and a burning sensation on her skin, and Demon Snow embraces them, taking the brunt of it.

They hit the water hard and the cold makes her skin tingle where the heat burned her. She can’t see straight, can’t tell up apart from down.

When her head breaks the surface, she takes a large gulp of air and coughs. She stays there for almost a minute, refusing to move, her muscles aching but still holding onto Atsushi.

Then, she kicks her feet, trying to swim, though a kimono is probably not the best outfit for it. In the end, Demon Snow reappears on its own, gently wrapping its arms around them and pulling them towards the riverbank.

After being hauled there, Kyouka pulls Atsushi up on the dry ground, never once letting go of him. She breathes in deeply, the adrenaline fading, and her shoulders slump. Her kimono sleeves are charred, but thankfully she wasn’t burned in the explosion.

Atsushi still unconscious, she gives him a once over, making sure he’s not hurt. One of his sleeves is ripped and the slight burns are already healing, but he otherwise looks fine.

“We made it,” she whispers, holding him close, fingers running through his hair.

She will have Akutagawa’s skin if he harms him again.

Demon Snow sits by them, and one of her translucent hands rests on Atsushi’s shoulder. Kyouka pointedly looks away.

She did it. She used Demon Snow to help and protect, but still, she can’t forget that it’s her ability who murdered her mother, the ability she used to kill so many people.

But it saved them.

If she keeps using it to save people, maybe one day she’ll have earned her right to life, the same way Dazai is earning his own.

“Kyouka-chan!” The clacking of heals on the cement draws her attention to Yosano, hurrying in her direction. She stops once she reaches them. “Any injuries?”

“I’m fine,” Kyouka answers. The cuts the claws left in her arms sting. “But I’m not sure about him. I want to bring him back to the office.”

Yosano pauses, considering the tight grip Kyouka has on the boy, and the way Demon Snow looms over them protectively. The translucent woman’s head snaps up towards her, blank face evaluating her until Yosano is deemed harmless and she fades away.

“He is from the Mafia, isn’t he?”

Kyouka shakes her head no. “He is not an enemy.”

“Very well.” Yosano straightens up and fishes her phone out of her bag. “Let's take him home, then.”

#atsukyouweek2020 #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakajima atsushi #izumi kyouka #bsd atsushi #bsd kyouka #cw violence #writing

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thearvariblues · 4 years

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The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter Seven

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

AKA me desperately trying to catch up my Tumblr with what’s already been posted to AO3. ;)

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

7 – You Stop This, Jaskier

All eyes turned to the door when Jaskier entered the rehearsal room, a big paper cup of coffee in one hand, a paper bag in the other.

“Fifteen minutes late with Starbucks,” Renfri smirked.

“I have two things to say to that, dear heart,” Jaskier said, taking a sip of his coffee. “First, I’m merely three minutes late. And second, I would never ever in my life set foot in a place as wretched as Starbucks, so don’t ever accuse me of something so horrible again!”

“Did you stop for a coffee or not, Jask?” Geralt chuckled.

“No. I stopped for something to eat. The coffee was an afterthought.”

He placed the cup on a little table next to the couch, sat down right next to Geralt and reached into the paper bag, pulling out a big sandwich which he immediately took a big bite of.

“Wow. Your night must have been really taxing,” Lambert laughed.

“Is Ciri around?” Jaskier mumbled.

“She’s walking Roach,” Geralt said.

“Good. In that case, my dears, I can tell you that my night was exquisite. I spent most of it in the middle of a very lovely, well… sandwich. Our fans really do get enthusiastic after a good show!” he grinned, but then he frowned. “Wait, who’s Roach?”

“What do you mean, who’s…” Renfri blinked. “Oh, of course, you haven’t met her yet. Roach is Geralt’s dog. Technically, she’s Roach number two.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said. “Right.”

“She’s a husky,” Eskel added.

“Of course she is. And… She’s coming here with Ciri?” he beamed.

“Yeah. In a few minutes,” Geralt nodded. “But don’t touch Roach. She doesn’t trust strangers. I adopted her a few months ago when Roach number one died. She wasn’t even one year old, but her life must have been really shitty before, so…”

“Poor little thing.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely not like Roach number one,” Renfri sighed. “That was such a sweet girl. This one is like a tornado.”

“But of course Geralt still adores her,” Eskel said.

“Yes. I seem to have a thing for totally unpredictable and crazy individuals,” Geralt smirked. “Jesus, Jask, are you seriously going to wolf down the whole thing? This must be the biggest sandwich mankind has ever seen. How does it even fit in your mouth?”

“Lots of practice.”

“Eating sandwiches?” Lambert said, cocking his eyebrow. “Or stuffing large things into your mouth?”

“The latter,” Jaskier grinned. “And stop giving me that look, Geralt. I’m hungry and I refuse to look like a starving bag of muscle like some of us do.”

“Some of us, Jaskier?” Geralt asked.

“Come on, I saw you getting dressed before the gig yesterday. I mean, yeah, big muscles, ripped body, it’s meant to be sexy, but it only means you should definitely eat more. A little layer of some nice, protective fat would do you good.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Renfri muttered. “He keeps his body like that because Yennefer liked it.”

“I keep my body like that because I like it,” Geralt growled.

“Well, don’t mind me then,” Jaskier shrugged, getting another bite of his sandwich. “I just tend to like men who are strong and a little bit soft at the same time. Like Eskel here. But that’s just my problem. If you want to look like this, go on. Hey. Hey! That’s my sandwich!”

“You said I should eat more, didn’t you?” Geralt smirked, effortlessly wrestling Jaskier’s snack out of his hands.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean my sandwich, you ass!”

“Too bad,” Geralt said, biting into it. “Oh, this is delicious!”

“So glad you like it,” Jaskier muttered. “I’m hungry over here, you know?”

“Shut it. You already have that layer of nice, protective fat,” Geralt mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t use to, you know?” Jaskier sighed, grabbing his coffee. At least something to soothe his hunger. “I used to be really thin. Always hungry. Because Valdo always used to tell me Oh, Julian, look, those tight pants would look so nice on you, too bad you’re not a size smaller. Oh, Julian, sweetie, look a this guy’s thighs, they don’t even touch each other, isn’t that beautiful? Julian, is that a tiramisu? Yeah, it’s a fucking tiramisu, you ass, and I’ll have as much as I want. Ugh. Can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with that bitch.”

A complete silence fell in the rehearsal room and Jaskier suddenly saw everyone was staring at him with mouths agape.

“I’m sorry,” Lambert finally said, after a few long moments. “Did you say Valdo?”

“Mhmf,” Jaskier muttered, trying to hide his face behind his coffee cup.

“As in Valdo Marx?” Eskel specified.

“Might have,”Jaskier peeped.

“Are you telling us that you dated fucking Valdo Marx for two years?!” Renfri yelled. “And you starved yourself for him?!”

“We broke up three years ago!” Jaskier said, throwing his arms open and nearly knocking the sandwich out of Geralt’s hand. “I was an idiot, okay? I thought I was glad to have found him, thought no one would be ever able to love the real me, blah blah blah. Took me way too long to realize I was being a total idiot and break up with him. He’s hated me ever since and my mother’s yet to speak to me again.”

“Your mother?” Eskel frowned.

“She thought Valdo and I would get married, adopt a kid and I would become a perfect housewife for him,” Jaskier sighed.

“Wow. She doesn’t know you at all, does she?” Renfri chuckled.

“Not in the slightest, honey.”

Lambert shook his head.

“Honestly, I’m still trying to process that someone like you would spend two years fucking that insufferable prick. Valdo Marx. Fuck.”

“Could we maybe stop discussing Valdo fucking Marx?” Geralt grunted. “Has anyone read the reactions to the gig yet? Because I haven’t.”

“Yes. Thank you, my lovely white wolf. Absolutely. Let’s focus on the reviews, because I kind of haven’t had the time yet to...”

The door swung open and a large husky came barging in, heading straight for the couch.

“Roach! Stop!” Ciri yelled behind the dog.

Roach stopped in front of Geralt, sniffed at his sandwich, and then turned her head to Jaskier.

The bard, remembering that the dog didn’t like strangers, avoided her eyes and merely offered her his hand. The next thing he knew, he had a massive dog in his lap and a wet nose was enthusiastically sniffing at his face.

He yelped when a broad tongue licked his nose.

“What was it you said about her not liking strangers?”

“I’ve never seen her do anything like this before, I swear!” Geralt chuckled, taking a coffee cup from Jaskier’s hand so it wouldn’t spill. “Roach, get down. Bad girl.”

The dog gave a tiny, desperate whine.

“I said get down,” Geralt repeated.

Roach turned her body to Geralt, eyed his sandwich and whined again.

“What did we say about begging for food?”

She lowered her head and looked pleadingly at her owner.

“Oh, I love her already,” Jaskier laughed. “Will love her even more when she stops crushing my crotch. Hi, Ciri, by the way.”

“Hi, Jaskier,” the girl replied. “Sorry, dad. I didn’t think she would do that. Where did you get the sandwich?”

“Stole it. Shamelessly!” Jaskier huffed. “Geralt, your dog is heavy as hell, you know it?”

“Roach. Get. The fuck. Down.”

Another whine.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier chuckled. “Well, can someone at least read me those reviews and make me happy before I die?”

“Don’t you have your own phone?” Geralt asked.

“I do. In my pocket. Underneath your dog.”

“Right. Ciri?”

The girl already had the phone in her hand.

“On it.”

“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “And give me back my coffee, Geralt, because if you decide to steal that too, my chances of survival will grow even lower than they are now!”

“You really are such a drama queen, Jask…

“The Bard and the Wolf? What the hell is that?” Geralt frowned after the third (very positive) fan review of their gig. He had already finished Jaskier’s sandwich, and even managed to get Roach down from Jaskier’s lap. That seemed to be a mistake, as the dog clearly decided to hate him for that – judging by the fact that she was currently sitting on the floor by Jaskier’s leg and tapping his hand with her paw every time he had the audacity to stop petting her. She was completely ignoring Geralt’s very existence.

“Oh, that’s a new hasthtag. My creation,” Renfri said. “I needed to tag a pic with you two, and I thought of this...”

“What, instead of The Witcher and the Witch?” Lambert asked.

“And what’s that?” Jaskier asked before he could think better of it.

He should have expected the answer, of course.

“The hashtag people used to use for Geralt and Yennefer,” Eskel explained. “It was her character. A witch.”

“Oh, good,” Jaskier muttered. “Shouldn’t it have been The Witcher and the Bard, then?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Renfri shrugged. “Besides, Geralt’s more of a Wolf, really.”

“True,” Jaskier nodded. “But to be honest, I don’t think it’s gonna stick.”

“You’re probably right,” Renfri nodded. “I’ve seen it used like… four times. But everyone calls you The Bard.”

“Perfect,” Jaskier grinned. “What do you think, Roach, isn’t it perfect? No, no, no! Roach! My coffee!”

He shrieked as the dog suddenly turned and jumped back onto his lap, knocking the cup out of his hand.

“Oh, dear, even dogs adore him,” Lambert sighed. “How is that fair?”

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled. “Geralt, would you help me instead of fucking laughing?!”

“So sorry, dear heart,” Geralt chuckled. “But I think Roach has found her new favorite human.”

“I’m really glad to hear that! Oh, Geralt, you’re so gonna pay for this shirt!”

A few hours later, Jaskier was sitting on the couch in his living room, sipping wine and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling through his social media.

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that it was narcissistic and, well, stupid. But he had to see. Had to convince himself that it hadn’t only been his imagination that afternoon.

He had to convince himself that yes, Kaer Morhen’s fans really did like his mad, cheeky, queer self. There were even a few who claimed that he was an improvement on Yennefer. An improvement! It was a dream come true.

He forced himself to stop and he put his phone down. Took a sip. Picked his phone back up.

He couldn’t help himself.

He gulped when he saw that Ciri had posted a new photo from the rehearsal room. A photo of Jaskier and Geralt sitting on the couch, with Roach on Jaskier’s lap. It must have been shortly after Roach knocked the coffee out of Jaskier’s hand, because Geralt was clearly laughing and Jaskier was just starting to.

Roach meeting @jaskierthebard for the first time. In case you couldn’t tell, she really hates strangers... #thebardandthewolf #andawolf #loveatfirstsight #husky #dogsofinstagram

Jaskier smiled and liked the post, and then kept looking at the picture a little longer.

He really loved Geralt’s expression there. It was so open, so happy and so damn beautiful.

Jaskier sighed, forced himself to put the phone down and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from seeing the white haired man’s face.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he whispered to himself. “You stop this, Jaskier. You stop this right now, because if you don’t, you’ll only get in trouble.”

He could stop his thoughts, yes. But he couldn’t stop his heart from beating a little faster.

Geralt knocked on his daughter’s door.

“Ciri, it’s eleven already. Lights out.”

He waited, but she didn’t answer, so he opened the door carefully.

The girl was asleep on her bed, dressed in her pajamas, with her laptop next to her.

Geralt took the laptop and the screen lit up. He stopped and blinked. Ciri had a new wallpaper – of Geralt, Jaskier and Roach in the rehearsal room.

He looked at the picture and smiled. He really had never seen Roach fall for someone so fast, but here she was, sitting on the bard’s lap, happy as ever.

And Jaskier…

Geralt shut the laptop and shook his head to clear it.

No. He wasn’t going to go there. No way.

He placed the laptop on a table, covered Ciri with a blanket and kissed her forehead.

“Good night, honey,” he whispered to her. “Sweet dreams.”

He turned off the light and closed the door behind himself.

Continue witch Chapter Eight

#geraskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #the bard and the wolf #my fics

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