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manifestations-of-mythology · 2 years

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Cynocephali, Live Más

The harsh light of morning woke me, rudely. It was such a fine dream I was having, and I found myself looking forward to my day far less than I was last night. I could be angry, but at whom? The sun? I only had myself to blame for not mounting the shades in the windows of my new bedroom the night before. I resolved to do that tonight, no matter how tired I might be from my first day at work. I also resolved to move my feet and arms, which preferred the warmth of my bed, for several minutes before my mind won out over my body.

I arose, and shambled into my bathroom after setting off the coffee maker. At least I had not forgotten to set that up. As groggy as I felt, I’d be in real trouble if I had. It was clear to me that I hadn’t adjusted to the time change, either. I splashed water over my head, and went about combing my curly locks into place, as well as I could. There were so many times I’d wished that the hair on my head blended in better with the rest of it, but mom liked it. I wish more people did; I’m not picky. But that was hardly my only deficit. I took my short brush, and worked the rest of the hair on my face, ridding myself of pillow swirls and loose guard hairs. I looked up and grinned in the mirror: a tired brown dog with a blonde clown wig on. Wonderful.

After three hard boiled eggs and three cups of coffee, I gathered the tools of my trade, and the inescapable accessories of my speech impediment. This talking board was a gift, and was a big step up from the plastic one I’d used for so many years. It was thin, and made of very solid aluminum. It also had many more of the tiny glass beads filled with iron oxide under the writing surface, which meant the text you could write on it was much cleaner. And images, as well. I had spent the evening sketching on it instead of installing my shades, as I should have. I erased my line drawing of a lamp with a push of a button, and it vanished in a flash. But, not before saving it with the push of another button in the row there at the bottom. This one could store hundreds of notes. Dad must be proud of me; this board was much nicer than the one that took me through school. I knew this thing wasn’t inexpensive.

I could have walked to work, but I decided to show up a bit early. Thankfully, I wasn’t late for the trolley, and I hopped aboard just as it started off. I took a strap, and was thankful there was another person like me, towards the back of the car. She was an older woman, scarf over her ears, with groceries in tow in a folding rolling cart. We exchanged a friendly glance, but not a smile; bared teeth weren’t always welcome in mixed company. The hair on her cheeks was not unlike the color of the hair on my head, but a glance under her scarf was enough to confirm that the hair on her scalp wasn’t some wild other color, like red or something. Though, women often dye their hair… men too, nowadays. Should I dye my hair?

I almost missed my stop, thinking about what color to go for. I hopped out, and walked confidently into the construction site. I was new here, but I was a master of my craft. By training, at least. My confidence was also bolstered by the fact that I knew most of my fellows would be worth talking to. It’s always easier to feel at ease amongst your own, especially when your differences are so apparent.

“Ah, the new hire!” An older man barked out. He pulled down his dust mask, to reveal a vast bush of black hair about his snout, marked by streaks of grey. “I’m Tan-Kat, the foreman. Your dad is an old friend of mine, we, uh, trained together before he got it into his mind to be an architect.” I knew this much, of course. This connection was why I was here; dad had sent a letter to his old friend about me, and my recent graduation into the craft. I was hired after a phone interview, which was very flattering.

Now, the burly old dog was clapping my back, and adding a nice coat of light grey stone dust to my jacket, which was thankfully made of the traditional undyed white cotton. That tone matched fine with any type of stone dust; it was convenient for this work, and I knew where I’d be working. I thought I had dressed well for the day, but the foreman did not share my opinion about my outfit. “You’re gonna hate that jacket, though. It’s way too hot today, especially working over basalt, and you’ll have no protection for your waist without that jacket. You’ll be down to that shirt in no time, I guarantee it.” Tan-Kat was bare chested, with a cape about his shoulders that went down below his waistline to keep the dust out. The front was protected by the traditional apron. It was a very old fashioned outfit. Hardly anyone went bare chested any more, at least not outside the homeland. “Now, your dad put that thing down, for the square; how did you happen to pick it up?”

“Well, I love music, and I got to playing with the stoneworkers who dad used to hire for his projects… and I got good at the instrument.” I shrugged. “I prefer the oboe, though.” This phrase did not rhyme nearly as well as a series of barks and chirps. I also did not mention that I had taken to a weird plastic sax-oboe-thing in recent years, just because it was easy to keep and use. I had one in my bag, along side the instrument I was obligated to carry. I could easily tell that a geeky conversation about music wouldn’t do with Tan-Kat, and we were right down to business.

“Well, we’re not here for easy listening. We’re here to be better than a tone generator that any fool can use.”

“Oh, if you work the thing right, it has a musical… aspect?”

“Not with this stone, kid; get ready to make some harsh noises.” He wasn’t wrong, the ribbons of quartz in this basalt made it hard to carry on the level. I almost tipped the first block on its side, before I regained control. But I smoothed out my performance by mid-day, and my playing had more of a pleasing warble than a harsh overtone. The other player was taking notes from me by lunch. It was flattering, and I enjoyed the attention, but she might have just been trying to be friendly to the new guy.

This sort of work arrangement wasn’t unusual; immigrants from the home lands still stuck out in this country, and it was easier to communicate and work harmoniously this way. Of course, people thought we were keeping secrets, which was easier to believe with our unique language and religion. And our faces, which we could hardly hide. It could be worse, and we all knew it. Past immigrations of this sort had, at times, gone horribly wrong. But, our skills were in demand here. And we had the same rights as any other person, here. In theory. I also remembered how often that theory would be tested back in my home state of Wyandote. We dog heads usually kept to ourselves, even the ones who were born and raised here, as I was.

“Hey, new kid.” A very large and rather good looking hound, in white and black furs, had interrupted my lunch and my reverie. The practical and protective white zip up jumper he was wearing under his apron looked very good on him, and I was torn between admiration and envy. “Uh, Bart-Ao? Right? I’m Tao-Cha. I think you met my wife, she’s the other player.” Darn, and also darn. Maybe I wouldn’t be a home wrecker if… no, I’m not that daring. “You’ve got a call. You can take it in the back office.” He shot me a huge grin, which was welcome, and also didn’t help. “It’s your dad. Making sure Olympia hasn’t killed his son, I recon.” I wanted to groan, but that wouldn’t be giving off the air of mature professionalism I was aiming for, so I just thanked him and walked off to take the call.

•••

“Son! How’s the apartment?” I wanted to answer, but he didn’t let me. I was in the ‘back office,’ which was an air conditioned trailer the Foreman would retreat to for doing the maths and the billing. I was amused that he seemed to have no embarrassment at his preference for the standard model woman, judging by the swimsuit model cut outs pasted on his filing cabinet. Though, I noticed one of them was our own hometown beauty, Chae-Ka. She was blessed with a flat face, as we sometimes are, but still had the full fur coat. I guess some people like that.

I could take or leave her face, or her furs, but having heard her speak I knew I was jealous of her voice. She had no trouble speaking the more common languages, lucky girl. I would give half my teeth to be able to speak Albionese, as most of the people in this country did. But I would have to deal with merely understanding, reading and writing it. It felt like a curse. I returned from my thoughts to find my father had gone on, but I don’t think I had missed anything yet. “… I know, it was sight unseen, but Khit-Ao, she’s your cousin, right? She said that place was great, and the views are nice, so…”

“Yeah, the place has good views.” I interjected. The sun sure had a clear shot at my face this morning. “And, the appliances are new, that’s really nice.” They weren’t top of the market, but they were new. I didn’t mention this, because I didn’t have a chance. Dad must be really excited for me.

“Ah, great, and Tan-Kat, he’s not giving you any shit, is he?”

“Dad, I’m literally in his office, and…” Dad laughed, and continued.

“As if he would give a shit, he’s an old friend.”

“OK, fine, and no. He’s been fine. And… I’m alone in here too.” It felt like almost a lie to suggest he was present, and I knew better than to lie to dad. He always just… knew. It was terribly frustrating. “Tan-Kat seems to like the flat faces.”

“Don’t call them that around him, and don’t insult his wife when she shows up by using your board.” What could this mean? I took note, and moved on as fast as my father did. “Olympia isn’t like Wyandote, Bart. Try to fit in. With everyone, OK?”

“Sure, dad. I seem to have a good start? Look, I should get back to work. Love you.”

“Love you, too. I’m so proud of you, you’re so much better at the art than I was. Or Tan-Kat; he does math ever since he broke someone’s legs real bad with a foul note. Be careful!” And he hung up.

The rest of the day went without incident, and I got a warm send off from everyone in my new crew before we left for the day. It was a ritual of back clapping and happy chirps I’d been through a few times before, but it was welcome. I felt welcome. At least, here amongst my own kind. I took a moment to ask Tao-Cha about his neat jumper, and did my best to not make it seem like a flirt, since his wife was right there. It was an honest question; Tan-Kat was right about my attire. I had to ditch the jacket almost immediately, and by lunch I already had basalt and quartz dust in my underwear. By the time we hit the showers at the end of the day, it was agonizing.

I had a fresh set of clothes in my bag, so I changed into them in the locker room after my shower. The jacket didn't fit in my bag, so I would have to wear it home. This facility was in the other set of trailers, with the lockers and the break room. Everyone had their own stall to wash and change in, which seemed almost extravagant, but we did get paid well for our work. No one else could lay a foundation that would last for centuries in a few days, like we could. The whiz kids with their tone generators would have to move much faster if they wanted to really compete with our well oiled machine, but we did feel their breath on our necks some days. Slow, steady and cheap might really win the race, if we aren’t careful. It often does, even against the most confident of opponents.

I was so distracted with this train of thought as I walked out, I almost ran right into a lovely middle aged woman, in a red and black sun dress. She was of the standard model, and had yellow nail polish on to compliment her dark brown skin. In my confusion, I spoke without thinking.

“Oh, sorry!” I barked out. I realized my mistake, and started to sign with my hands, before I was interrupted.

“Oh, don’t you worry, young man. Have you seen Tan-Kat?” She said his name so well, and she understood me! And… she called me a man, without a moment of hesitation. I instantly understood my father’s warning, from earlier. I suppose a preference for differences can go either way.

“I haven’t seen him since I hit the showers.” I said this slowly, but I said it. It felt weird.

“I have no talent for your language, but I understand it just fine.” She smiled. “Are you the new player?” I nodded, an ever useful universal word, and she continued, “Oh, Tan was so excited about you. I’m Jade.” I thought I had misheard, but I had no way of checking. Jada seemed more likely. But then I saw her green eyes, and I understood. “Productivity has been nearly halved since old Kaon-Ah had to retire. You’re Kut-Ao’s son, right?”

“Yeah, he got me this job, through your husband. I’m still getting used to Olympia, I’ve hardly had a chance to see it yet.” Switching languages from side to side was starting to feel natural, already. This must be how the two of them converse every day. It seems romantic, actually.

“Oh, it’s lovely here, be sure to check out the overlook park… Powell’s Butte, I think. If you have a chance. Go early, there’s always a crowd. Yeah… your dad.” She flashed me a sly grin, “Do you know how close the two of them used to be? If Tan hadn’t run into me, I’m sure he’d still be a bachelor, and I’m sure the two of them would have somehow ended up back together again. You’d have missed out on that deal, I think.” And we laughed. I had no idea, but it made sense; there was hardly a sliver of light between the two of them in all of the old photos I’d seen. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

•••

On the way home, I skipped the trolley and took a walk. The autumn evening was fine, and I felt the need to see the city a bit before I got a bite to eat… and put up those blinds. As I passed one of the many parks here, I admired the crowd of people there picnicking and playing music under the trees. There were four bands I could see, spread about, trying their best not to break each other’s beat. The one nearest to me was lacking a horn player, but I kept walking. But then, I broke my stride and walked back. I may never know why.

I had my horn in hand before I arrived, which silently answered my reason for appearing. But, I knew this wouldn’t be enough, so I wedged it under my arm and pulled out the tablet, scribbling down a few things quickly before replacing the pen in its magnetic field on the side of the device. That was so much nicer than the pen clip I was used to.

“Hi! I play. You’re between songs? Want to jam?” I gave them a few moments to read, before I tried to judge their faces. Moments later, I was relieved to see they liked the idea, even before they opened their mouths.

“You’re a new face. Hey, I’m Nikita.” Nikita was a woman with olive skin, who had a face I couldn’t quite pin an age on. A very fine face, though, and it radiated a sort of warm hospitality. Or perhaps that was her smile. Her hair was an unnatural shade of pinkish red, and she was dressed in a mix of sports clothing, adorned with pins, patches and paraphernalia. Most everyone in the park had on a similar outfit, which took the form of either a silky half cape with a t-shirt and a sports wrap, or a light poncho with shorts. Either choice of garment seemed so much more comfortable than the jacket I had on. I was reminded that I was overdressed even for work, and I felt the hair on my cheeks stand up with embarrassment. In that moment I felt terribly out of place, but Nikita smiled, and then I did not. “Kosta is on the harp, Simon is on the kalimba…”

“Synths dead. Piles are dead.” Simon interjected. They were a lanky person, about my age I’d guess, with pale skin and short brown hair. They were either a tall somewhat masculine woman, or a slim man with an unnaturally gorgeous face and a delicate voice. In either case, they looked like a rock star. Especially posed as they were, upon and surrounded by three large black musicians bags that probably contained those various electrics. The tiny fingerboard instrument in Simon’s hands seemed like an afterthought.

“Yeah, he does fine on that, though.” He, ah ha! OK, good to know. “Ithicus has the drums.” Ithicus seemed cut from the Norse pattern I was very familiar with, back in Wyandote, which led me to wonder how he got a name from the Mediterranean. I suspected his parents worshiped different gods than most of my neighbors back home. He was so stocky that he reminded me of a cornerstone, which was only emphasized by the comfy looking blue and green poncho he was wearing. This reached to the ground about where he sat, and served to make him look like a very colorful boulder. He had pale skin, like Simon, but his coloration couldn’t be more different otherwise. The hair on his head was not unlike mine; blonde and wavy. It laid down his back nicely, instead of rudely standing at attention like mine did. The hair on his skin was considerably less dense than mine, except atop his lip, where he wore an impressively thick mustache. All of it matched his head. Blonde looked so much better on him, but before I had time to be jealous he smacked the transparent skins of his travel drum set, joyously. Then, I was smiling along with him without a care. I noticed my mistake, and I quickly corrected.

“Dude, I’ve seen that before. Don’t hide your smile.” Someone who had not been introduced was better at reading my face than I expected, and I took note of him. He was dark skinned, but not that dark. Perhaps Egyptian? His hair was black and dense on both his face and chest. Not that much less dense than mine, though I’m sure he had no undercoat. “My ex-girl used to hide her smile all the time, bugged me.” He extended his hand, over his guitar, “I’m Adio. Some people call me Adios, if they are leaving.” We all laughed, again. I took his hand, briefly, and we shook vigorously. I found his smiling face was too fine to look at. It was breathtaking, and the rest of him wasn't bad either. His outfit did little to conceal his body, and it was very well formed: broad, muscular and taut. I had a hard time judging his height, but perhaps a bit taller than I? Better than 180 cm, at least. “But man, you can smile, go ahead. Tell me your name, though. You know all of us now.”

“Bart-Ao” I scribbled out, quickly. I turned my board and gave them a moment.

“Oh! Hi Bart.” Simon said. I started to write a correction, but Adio beat me.

“They usually go by the whole name. First and last, unless you’re real close.”

“Oh, uh… Bart-Ow?” Simon corrected himself. It was close. Close enough, really; our vocal equipment was not at all the same. I responded with a smile, and a few quick riffs on my horn, as I made sure the fingerboard was in order. It wasn’t my intention to start a song, but there we were, moments later, joined in a… sloppy first run improv jazz piece. It was immensely joyous, and everyone had a smile on their face by the wandering ‘end’ of it, even I.

“OK, so… what’s that?” Ithicus had a question about my horn, and I wrote out my answer on the board, with a cute little illustration because I’m fast on the thing.

“It’s from Nippon. It’s kind of a sax / oboe. It’s also plastic and tough.” That I can ‘speak’ a slash is a nice time saver. Under this I had dashed out a quick illustration of the rising sun, which they are so fond of on those islands.

“You don’t need a different reed or anything for… uh?” Nikita was trying her best to be polite, and I appreciated this. I shook my head in response, and started writing again.

“Our mouths are perfectly talented, it’s our vocal cords which are lacking.” This might be interpreted as flirty, but I didn’t care. Maybe it was. Everyone laughed, so if it was a flirt I might have hit everyone. I still didn’t care.

“The pig people of the steppes have more talented mouths.” Oh my, Adio is an adventurous soul! Pig people is the name everyone had arrived at, in Albionese at least. It seemed perilously close to an insult, but they took it well, so long as you didn’t call them pork or bacon. They didn’t differ much from the standard man, except in their noses and teeth. I suppose they have a bit of a snout, too, but not like we do. Sometimes they have pointy ears, too, but never a speech impediment. They came from the steppes of Rus, but now they are all over the Turtle Island too, in pockets here and there.

“Oh, like your last squeeze?” Simon played two chords on his kalimba, and I could almost see Eros stringing his bow. “He’s been giving you eyes across the park all evening.” Simon motioned with his eyes, and I was treated to an impressively large specimen about 40 meters away, in an open topped pair of overalls. His darkly tanned skin matched the color of his hair nicely, such that they blended together a bit, and his musculature was very pleasant to gaze upon. So many people complain that the pig people are ugly, but I was thoroughly convinced otherwise, in that moment. The impressively beautiful standard woman who was sitting next to him seemed nonplussed that his gaze was in our direction, and even less so when he winked at our group, as we conspicuously looked back. Apparently, a taste for differences was somewhat common, around here. Adio shrugged, we laughed, and we played a few more songs.

Looking around as we played, I saw the rainbow of humanity before me, joined together in such joy, and I felt something fall away that I had never known to have a grip upon me. It was like my heart breaking, in reverse. Every type of human was there, and every face as well. Even a family of the Clan of Wukong were present, having a nice picnic and listening to one of the bands. I wondered if they were immigrants, or visitors from China. You could hardly tell they weren’t just another regular human, besides the fact that the wife and child also had beards. And the tails, of course. We, sometimes, would be so blessed, but more rarely. They are rather proud of their tails, I hear.

My revere was broke just as we concluded another improvised tune. My mouth and hands had done well, even if my mind was elsewhere. Or, perhaps I had played out a bit of what was on my mind, and what no longer weighed on my heart, as there were tears in the eyes of everyone present. The mood passed with an exclamation.

“Gods, I’m hungry.” Ithicus seemed to be speaking for my stomach, as well, which replied with a loud growl. Not the sort of sound a dog head cares to make in a group of those not of their kind, but they didn’t seem to even notice.

“We could hit the Taco Bell, round the corner?” Simon said. This was a great idea, that all of us clearly loved, except for one of us which had another feast in mind.

“Uh, I think… I might…” Adio slung his guitar over his back as he arose, and then tossed his cable and his tiny amp speaker thing into Simon’s electrics bags. They must play together, most of the time. Then Adio walked right over to his last squeeze, like a man on a mission, and with a few words made him his current one once again. The mountain of a man leapt to his feet and followed him out of the park, hand in hand. If there hadn’t been such an intense look between them, there, I might have run after them. I’m not usually up for a fling, but that looked like fun. However, I know better than to step on Love’s toes, even if I worship no god. The young lady who was by his side flipped her hands into the air, in disgust, and proceeded to converse with the woman next to her. She was a good bit away, but they were both facing me, and I’m good at reading lips.

“Did… my date just walk off with the cute guy?” She said.

“You’re the one who pointed him out.” Her friend was very amused.

“No, they knew each other…”

“Yeah, did you see that look? I’d say they’ve known each other a lot.” Now her friend was laughing, but the jilted date wore a mild look of shock.

“Wait, was I the bounce? He was bouncing back from ‘cute guy’?! I’m not the bounce! I’m the bouncer, not the bounce-e!” Her hands were doing a lot of talking here, even in front of her face, but I’m sure I got that right.

“Girl, you didn’t even get a bounce. You were the awkward ‘I still love him’ date.” In response to this the one pushed the other over. Not hard; they must love each other like sisters, to talk like that. I, too, was very amused.

•••

“Do you… know Taco Bell?” Simon was trying to be kind, but it was a silly question. The ringing bell, which I could see in five different directions from our place in line, was as familiar a symbol to me as the basket of fruit on my underwear. Was it my stupid jacket that made me seem like such an outsider?

“I came from Wyandote, not the moon.” I wrote. I also drew the moon, real quick, along with a goofy face on it. This was to soften the blow, since sarcasm is so hard to convey with text alone. I turned the board, and a beat later everyone let out a few guffaws, and Simon got a strong pat on the back from Ithicus. The underlying joke, about the bull-shit story our sailors used to tell men who got too curious about where we lived, was for me alone.

As I ate my burritos, tacos being far too awkward to eat in a crowd of standard humans, I had a few moments to digest my thoughts from earlier. I was shocked to realize that I had never really been at one with people who were unlike me, before. Sure, I’d gone out to eat, or engaged in social events, but where we were in the minority I’d always felt like an outsider. Sitting here, and sharing this meal with these wonderful people I’d just met, I felt the weight of everything I’d been missing. I must have stopped chewing for a moment, because someone noticed my inner turmoil.

“Are you… All right?” Ithicus seemed genuinely concerned. Now, outside of the glaring light of Adio, I could see that he was quite handsome, himself. If you like block shaped people… Do I like block shaped people? Looking back at his concerned face, I felt like I easily could. But then, I almost choked, and had to awkwardly swallow the half bite I had in my mouth. He was on his feet before I was done, and I waved him back into his chair. That was sweet, of him, even if he was the cause of it. I took to my board to explain.

“I’m not used to this. People mix better here than back home. It’s nice.” Writing out your thoughts forces you to be direct, sometimes.

“Yeah, I’ve been to Wyandote. Lots of people there are… a bit cold?” Nikita took a swig of Pom and Lime Mt. Dew, as if to wash down her words. “They take after their gods. You probably didn’t get to see them cut loose, since y’all tend to keep your own faith.” Nikita knew more about us than I had anticipated. If it was from that stupid documentary five years ago, I’d have to correct a few things, but I appreciated the curiosity.

“Yeah, we don’t call out to gods, we worship the four principles of the universe as concepts. It’s pretty dry, actually.” I wrote out. I then wiped it, after everyone nodded, and continued writing. Ithicus had a point to make in the mean time.

“I see a few dog heads at the Temple of Dio. You don’t all hew to it.” Ithicus had a good point, so I deleted what I was writing and wrote something different; a minor advantage of this form of communication.

“Our lack of a god is no more jealous than Dio is. He throws a good party, I hear.” I almost wrote out his old name; that would be a faux pas. He had manifested some thirty years ago at the after party in every single temple, and told everyone assembled that they were all, really, his friends, and they should just call him Dio from now on, like his friends do. They gave up changing his monuments after a bit, and just took to underlining the first three letters of his name on existing depictions of the god.

“Oh yeah, it’s a great party.” Simon was, apparently, also familiar with the temple. “Only at the evening service, the one in the morning has kids and the afterparty is… There is cake?” Everyone laughed again. “I mean, the parents are usually smoking out back in the woods during the cake, they need a break.” Oh, that’s true, he was more or less the god of all intoxicants. That’s convenient; alcohol was going out of fashion, since it wrecks you so badly if you drink it in any quantity. Well… non-hallucinogenic drugs. I suppose Hecate gets those. Though, all the gods are pretty trippy. “Oh, and don’t go to the Freyday service by accident, that’s the cult of the Nazarene. They’re kinda dry. I mean, you might like that.”

“Who?” I wrote out. It was so fast it was barely slower than actually saying it.

“Who?” Nikita said, just as I turned my board. Nikita was, apparently, not so familiar with the temple, or this figure of worship. Well, not that temple. There were a lot of them, and she had cute pins depicting half a dozen gods on her purse. So, she might not be too picky, like the gods.

“It’s fun.” Ithicus said, “So they have an incarnation of Krishna, you’re probably familiar with that concept.” One great enclave of my people was in the land where that name was frequently spoken. So yes, of course. I nodded in response, as it was much quicker than writing all of that out. “Ok, they say he was born in the Mediterranean, around Palestine, in a town called Nazareth. Everyone was trying to kill him his whole life, but not for any good reason. He only went around telling people to be kind to each other, and to try and see things from each other’s perspectives. Oh, and healing people and stuff. Eventually, after even the King failed to kill him, Dio’s grandpa had a try at it." Simon was clearly confused by this point, and he interjected.

"Wasn't that his dad?” Simon said.

"He thought he was everyone's father, he was nuts. But, their family tree… it looks like a circle. The priests were arranging all of that, and they were also nuts back then.” Ithicus thought this to be funny, and he stifled a giggle. It was probably less funny at the time. Nikita had a keen observation to share, in this moment.

"So, it's a compromise… just to make it easier to preach about?" Nikita may be unaware of the particulars of Dio's local temple, but she certainly understood how a religion works.

"Yeah, a compromise. I mean, Dio says he's pretty sure Apollo was his father. We generally take his word, despite the tree." Ithicus shrugged, and we all had a sip of soda before he continued. It's nice when the gods themselves manifest to clear up a liturgical dispute. It’s hard to imagine how a silent god could keep his flock from flying to pieces, honestly. They'd probably end up killing each other. "Well, 'grandpa' fails, and the Nazarene flees to the east with his disciples, where old thunder and lightning can’t get at him. He tried to kill Dio, too. His grandpa. They have that in common.” As I recall, that god tried to kill almost everyone, and managed it rather often. No one worshiped him anymore; not in public, at least. I had a question for the table, so I wrote it out.

“So. Dry. No wine?” This was a better joke than I had thought, and when the table recovered Simon had a surprising answer.

“Oh no, Dio and the Nazarene have that in common, too. Wine. Diluted for the kids, of course.” Of course. We took the chance of this natural pause to eat more of our meal before it got cold.

I could tell something was bothering Nikita, though. Eventually, she put down her… what is that thing? A cheesy hexagon? I knew the logo well enough, but maybe not the menu. She put it down, wiped her mouth, and spoke. “The people in Wyandote, how cold they are… I’m sure they knew you are human.” Nikita was more confident than I. I took a moment, then wrote my reply, which took a few more.

“I wish I could be so confident. Every time some group of people decided we aren’t human, they murder us. It’s pretty consistent.” It’s a good thing there was never been some central authority to declare us as ‘not human.’ That would have been the end of us. [Note: The Etymologies of St. Isidore of Seville: Book 11. Chapter 3. Sections 9-15, Regarding the ‘Monster’, and the ‘Unnatural Being’ ]

“That’s… heavy, man. A lot to carry on your shoulders.” Nikita’s sentiment seemed to be shared by everyone. We had all stopped eating, as there was too much to digest in that moment. Thankfully, we were mostly done. I nodded, and wrote out a few additional thoughts.

“We’ve always had to fight to be seen as men, but when we raise our fists you call us beasts.” Or, when we try to talk, even though it is very clearly speech. There was no reply to this, so I wrote a quick follow up, "I’m guess I’m putting down that weight. Trying?”

“Well, if you need friends, here in Portland…” Ithicus was so kind.

“Yeah, we’re here for you, you seem to be pretty great actually.” Nikita seemed pretty great, too, as was her glorious smile.

“Next time, I’ll have some extra charged piles. Thorsday, same time same frequency?” Simon was so kind, as well. I smiled and nodded; it was a date. “Oh hey, I always get too many tacos, you want one?” This seemed improper, but it was as if Ithicus had read my mind.

“You already sat yourself with your back to the restaurant,” Ithicus had noticed that? I’d done it without thinking. “We’re not afraid of your teeth, come on.” I took a taco. When I was done, Nikita had another observation.

“Your mouth doesn’t look like a dog’s. Not at all, and your ears… they’re kinda right, but they are on the sides of your head. At least the pig people look like pigs, who named you?” I always thought we looked more like the tree kangaroos that live in New Holland, but we are definitely not marsupials. I pondered my answer for a moment, and wrote out my reply as Simon cleaned up the wrappers.

“Some people in Hellada thousands of years ago called us dog heads and it stuck. We used to do a lot of trade in the Mediterranean. Mostly jewelry. We’re still good at that. We call ourselves the Lost Children of the Solar Empire.” I shrugged; the name looked incredibly goofy written out in Albionese.

“That doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.” Simon was right, but he was wrong. Quickly, and at a controlled volume, I spoke out the name of our people in our language. It was much quicker, and a bit like a brief tone poem.

“I kinda want to clap, but I won’t.” Nikita was using a practiced tone of boredom, that she was clearly using to mask her delight. In fact, everyone was delighted, and this filled me with with a weird mix of shock and joy. I was even more shocked when Kosta spoke, for the first time that day.

“You’re great on that horn thing.” Kosta said, her voice lightly accented by the language of the Rus. “I thought it looked like plumbing, and then you made me cry.” Kosta was an older woman, with more than a few lines on her face, who had a talent for the harp, and for fading in to the background. Every band, even impromptu ones in the park, needs an older person to keep them from acting like a bunch of fools. Everyone knows that. She was wearing a lovely knit hat with floppy edges, and a heavily embroidered blue silk suit which looked comfy enough to sleep in. “Don’t you miss that date, or I’ll bite you!” She snapped at the air, viciously, and it was adorable.

“Auntie, I can’t take you anywhere.” Nikita threw her arm over her shoulder. “Mom says I’m babysitting her.” I waited for Kosta to laugh, before I joined in. I didn’t want to harsh this feeling, with these wonderful people. Whatever it is, it’s intoxicating, and I’m sure it wasn’t in the food. Maybe I can ask Dio about that, later. All of this gave our hasty goodbyes a rosy, dream-like quality, after I helped them load their things onto the trolley for the trip. I couldn’t let Simon carry all three of those bags, again. It was painful to watch. I was so out of it, I’m glad I didn’t load up my own bag. I’m also glad I wasn’t run down by the bicycle race I almost missed, as I walked the last few blocks to my new home.

•••

I had barely cast off my burdens when the phone rang. I had a feeling who it would be, so I put the thing on speakerphone and fell back into a chair. I didn’t care to hold the handset, and the neat trick that other men could do, with the phone in the crook of the neck, doesn’t work at all with us.

“Oh, Bart… You ok? I was expecting you home hours ago.” It was Dad, of course. Mom didn’t tend to worry like he did. Also, I was right. The neighbors would just have to deal with the sound of yapping dogs while we spoke, if the impressive sound insulation in this place didn’t stand against our words. I wondered, in that moment, whether that was one of the reasons my cousin had selected this apartment.

“I walked home… ended up playing with a band in the park. We went and got a bite to eat.” This really drained all of the color out of the experience, but I was talking to my dad.

“Oh… great!” Father seemed to be delighted. “People like us, or…”

“No, they were all flat fa… standard people. I mean, there were dog heads in the park. Some pig people too, and the monkey people from China. And all the other hues of man, that don’t stand out so much. It was neat.” I guess I was delighted, as well.

“I’m very happy to hear it… what did you think of Jade?”

“She seems to be real nice, she… Wait, how did you know that I ran into her?”

“Hah, Tan-kat gave me a call. First time we have talked in years, actually…”

“Since you two broke up?” This was fresh, but I had been shocked to find out about this bit of family history, and I wanted to tease him a bit.

“Uh…” This is one of the few words that we share with Albionese. It’s too bad that it means literally nothing.

“Jade said something about it… It came as news to me. I thought that you only had eyes for women! I didn’t know we had so much in common.” My parents knew about my wandering eye, of course. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Oh, not like you. No, I… only ever had eyes for Tan.” Familiar enough to refer to him by but one name! Duly noted. “He picked up the instrument so he could play by my side, and then I ran off to be an architect…” I could hear his voice catch, as he choked up a bit. I gave him a moment to compose himself and continue, “I’d think I broke his heart if Jade hadn’t picked it up so fast.”

“Did that cause some stress?” I was pretty sure I knew.

“Jade? Yeah, the old rules… about sexual relations, had only been voted out a few decades back. His dad’s side of the family did not like it. Most everyone knows what we are now, and there is less chance of a loose child being treated as an animal, or a monster. But, that side was old fashioned, and they made a lot of noise about traditions and propriety.” He laughed, “Jade’s family was surprisingly supportive, and that helped a lot. I guess they had a pig person, way back in their family tree? I didn’t know that, at the time. Tan said there was no trace of it on any of their faces. It seems like weird folk are everyone’s family secret, here on Turtle Island.” Living my life out in Wyandote, I’d had no idea to what a degree that was true. But, around here, it seems like people had given up on secrets. We had some ugly secrets of our own, which this conversation brought to mind.

“It’s really rich, for the traditionalists to be all up in arms about propriety. As I recall, the traditionalists used to bait sailors with our…” It was impossible not to use the slur, in this context, “… flat faced women, to keep our blood fresh. Relations were never the problem, it was relationships. They just don’t care for love.”

“Men were more restricted, son. It’s harder to keep track of our children…” It’s true, men tend to jump at opportunities for such amusements, and it’s far too easy to leave behind an unexpected gift. “Yeah, well… You’re right, and Love be. Can anyone doubt the two of them love each other? I don’t. Tan-kat says two of their kids take after their mom, except the ears. The third, more the dad. It sounds cute… I want pictures?” It was good to hear there was no bad blood between them, now. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of my boss because my dad didn’t squeeze him right, back in the day. “But all that aside, I’m so glad you are getting along well in Olympia, already. We were a bit worried… that you were getting some hard feelings towards the standard model men. People around here can be so cold, if you don’t worship with them.”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today, and I can’t believe I missed that detail until now.”

“Look, son, if they looked down on us… like that, I couldn’t work with them like I do. Like we do. We have philosophical differences, and that’s fine.”

“I mean, if their gods don’t like us…”

“There are a thousand gods, none of them have the time to be too jealous, or too picky.” Can you imagine? That would be terrible. “But, you know, it’s a community: a temple. And we were never in that community.” This brought to mind another question.

“A few people in the band mentioned the Temple of Dio. I know some dog heads attend, would it be…” My mom interjected. The other side must be on speakerphone, too.

“Oh gods! I told you. Ten minutes in a new city and he’s up to his neck in gods.” I couldn’t tell if mom was annoyed, or amused.

“Eh, I’m not shaking hands with him or anything.” But, I do like a good party.

“If Dio shows up then shake his hand, don’t be rude.” Dad seemed genuinely concerned. That was unlikely… Less so if I started having some faith, I suppose. “I don’t have a problem with it."

“Dio’s fine, smoke and wine, just don’t get too lost in your time.” That also rhymed very well in the original language. Mom was quite a poet, often without even trying.

“Yeah, have fun.” I could tell by dad’s tone that this was wrapping up, but there was one more point I wanted to hit upon.

“So, uh, dad… Call him back, eh? You two shouldn’t be so distant. I always wondered about that guy in the pictures.”

“I don’t mind if you two get close again. If Jade’s not jealous, that would be fun to watch.” This was not what I meant, and mom knew it, she was just trying to embarrass me. She had succeeded, and I was at a loss for words. Apparently, so was my father, so mom continued. “Wow, got you both, how often do I get this much peace and quiet?”

“I have a few things to do around here, so maybe I can give you some more? Love you two.”

“Love you!” my parents barked out, in unison, before they laughed and disconnected the line.

I looked up, upon my kingdom of boxes, and knew that I had days of work ahead of me before this place was really my home. But, I already felt at home in Portland, and it was a good feeling. I unpacked my stereo, placed it atop my boxes of clothes and art supplies, and set off a jazz record that I was fond of. So accompanied, I installed those blinds in my bedroom. I’d have to rest well tonight, if I had so much living to do.

#classical mythology #mythologyart #New Mythology #cynocephaly #alternate timeline

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either…

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon…

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash.

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops.

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

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anxioussweasley · 3 years

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Helpless||G.W

Chapter 4: I’m Glad You’re Here

Series Masterlist

Warnings: drinking,,? That’s it I think idrk

A/n: Hey guys. Here’s a little bit longer chapter! As always let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Sorry this took so long to post, and sorry it’s unedited😬

93 Diagon Alley, London

June 19th, 1996

Y/n,

I promise that your letter will never cross George's path. C’mon Y/n/n you know I’m not good with all that emotional stuff. But if you insist I guess there is only one thing I can say: I’m sorry. None of this would have ever happened if it weren’t for me. I’m so sorry about the way this went down. I know you said you don’t think things can ever go back to normal, hell maybe they can’t, but I still want to try and fix it. Just come visit. If things go sour you can leave at any time. Please y/n let me try to fix it.

Your Best Friend,

Fred

3 days went by before y/n wrote back her reluctant agreement. And then another week before she was standing in front of the storefront in Diagon alley. Finally free of Hogwarts but faced with a whole new world of problems.

Y/n took a deep breath. She knocked on the door.

“Y/n!” Fred shouted as he pulled the door open immediately wrapping his arms around the girl. Y/n let out a loud laugh, as Fred spun her around in the door away.

“Hi, Freddie.”

“Well come on in then,” Fred ushered as he took your bag from your hand and directed you into the shop.

“George is already upstairs, we ordered take out. Should be here any minute. How was your trip?”

“It was good. I just apparated from the train station. The shop is amazing. I’m so proud of you guys. The rest of the street looks pretty dead.”

“Things have been slowing down out there for a while now. A couple of shops have closed up.”

“This bloody war.”

“I know,” Fred sighed. “C’mon let’s get you set upstairs.”

“Alright.”

Fred directed y/n up a set of colorful stairs as he carried her bag behind her. Once they reached the top Fred banged his hand against the door. “George! Open up, guess who is here.”

The door swung open immediately, and y/n didn’t have a second to think before George was pulling her into a hug.

“Bloody finally! We’ve been waiting all day for you.” George beamed at the girl.

“Well I do apologize for keeping you waiting,” y/n giggled as she and George separated.

George laughed, “It’s good to see you. It feels like it’s been months.”

“It has, George.”

“Oh.”

Fred laughed loudly, before pushing George out of the doorway and inviting you inside.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” George made a dramatic gesture, “ it’s not much but it’s our own.”

Y/n looked around the room. Directly across from her stood a short hallway with 3 doors. The living area was a fair size. An old couch sat in the living area to the right, and a small circular table sat directly across from the kitchen to the left. It was quite homey. It reminded Y/n alot of the burrow but this place was distinctly Fred and George. the small coffee table had random items, pranking prototypes, and several pieces of paper with various writing splayed across them. A Gryffindor scarf was thrown haphazardly across the couch and a Weasley Christmas sweater lied crumpled on the floor.

“It’s perfect.” Y/n smiled. George watched the girl as she examined the room. A feeling of content settled in his chest. Fred walked into the living area swiping everything lying across the coffee table into a large box.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess. We were up late working on stuff for the shop and well you know me I’ve never been one to clean up after myself.” The older twin joked.

“It’s fine, Fred.”

“So,” the word was long and drawn out, “how have you been?” George inquired.

“I’ve been good. Passed all of my NEWT’s with flying colors. I talked to Tonks. I’m not going to put my life on hold for this war. At least not yet. I’m going to start my apprenticeship. Ange thinks it’s a good idea, we are gonna get a flat together. Did she tell you that she is coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she said she would be here around noon,” Fred answered. “But in the meantime, we have some muggle movies, popcorn, firewhiskey, so don’t worry about being bored.”

“Bored? With you two? I think that’s pretty much impossible.”

“HOLD ON! HOLD ON! HOLD ON!” Y/n couldn’t breathe. George was on the floor. An empty bottle of firewhiskey was tipped over on the coffee table. Fred was standing in the middle of the room his cup was empty but he continued to try and drink out of it, getting frustrated every time he brought the cup to his lips just to find it empty. He was ranting about god knows what, as Y/n and George rolled on the floor laughing.

“Fred I’m going to stab you.” George huffed out through a laugh.

“YOU’RE GOING TO SIT THERE AND TELL ME I’M WRONG!” This tore another loud laugh from Y/n.

George had finally caught his breath. The younger twin was considerably less drunk than Fred. And it amused him greatly to poke the bear. “Well, I’m certainly not going to say you’re right!” This sent Fred into another spiral of yelling as he argued incoherently. Y/n finally pulled herself up from the floor moving to sit up against the couch next to George.

“Do you even know what he’s yelling about?” Y/n questioned with a giggle.

George scoffed with a chuckle, shaking his head, “No.” They both let out another laugh before trailing off into silence, watching Fred as he paced the small room mumbling to himself.

It suddenly struck Y/n how normal this felt. She had nearly forgotten how much had changed between her and George in the last few hours. Everything had seemed to go back to normal. She wasn’t nervous to be around George. She didn’t feel hurt. It was all incredibly normal. And as Fred continued his rant George through his arm around the girls shoulder. Y/n found herself leaning into him. She thought that this should be weird. Thought that her friendship with George would be ruined because of her feelings. Maybe it was the alcohol making things easier; making sure that she wasn’t overthinking. Or maybe it was the very real effort George was putting in to bring them back to normal. Whichever it was, Y/n was happy, because she got her best friend back.

“I’m glad you’re here.” George breathed.

“Me too.”

Taglist:

@just-trashs @babydidoy @lunacurlclaw @this-congressdoesnotspeakforme @rexorangecouny @them-cute-boys @floralmeltdown @lyricalstreams @fancy-pantaloons @gryffindorgirl @holybeanjuice

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george fabian weasley #george weasly imagines #hp imagine #fred weasley #weasley twins #weasleys #fred and george #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x y/n #anxiousweasley writes #Helpless Series

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drxwsyni · 3 years

Text

doubts and desires︱albedo x f!reader

summary: letting go of the past is hard, but losing what you have now would be harder. leaving albedo is neither something you can do, or something you really want, it’s simply taken you a while to understand that. word count: 2k warnings: implied dubcon, stockholm syndrome, past kidnapping

Even with how Albedo had bundled you up in a hat, scarf, gloves, and coat―it still failed to ward off the chill that seemingly sucked the warmth right from your body. Yet you said nothing about it, the unwanted attention it would draw from him inevitable if you made your discomfort known. And, you were almost certain he would drag you back to the cabin if he knew how the cold was treating you.

You didn’t enjoy the biting temperatures, but you didn’t want leave. Not when it’s been so long since you descended the mountain, that you barely even remember the feeling of snowfall against your skin.

The whole situation he’s placed you in is really quite foreign―confusing.

In how he’s letting you accompany him in his research, not far from his―your home. A safe distance, so to speak. Or that’s what he said, at least.

You realized that the way he spoke of this outing, how it’d just be the two of you, and that you wouldn’t venture very far; they were words of comfort. Not said to reassure himself that things would go smoothly, but to calm the look of trepidation in your eyes from the mere suggestion of going outside.

Now, seeing Albedo’s nonchalant demeanour while he studies the petrification of a fallen tree, it puts your mind at ease. Sure, if you look closely you’ll be able to see the way his eyes flicker to your form every few seconds or so, making sure you were right where he left you, but generally the alchemist is calm.

It makes you calm, for a moment it feels like you’re able to settle down and appreciate the intricate beauty of the snow swept mountain you stand upon. Best to do so now, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he would lead you home, sheltered safely away from the danger of the mountain’s climate.

“Oh―I didn’t know you were to be researching today, Albedo sir.”

With your back turned to the newly appeared stranger behind you, the cold that had seeped into your bones no longer posed as the only thing holding you in place―it was also now an icy fear.

You watched unmoving from your spot as Albedo gave pause, a hint of contemplation flashing across his face before standing.

“Timaeus. I thought you were studying back in the city.”

The man, who you had yet to properly address, responded with a somewhat nervous laugh.

“Yes, well I was, but it led me to do my own research out in the field…”

Always in a strangely graceful manner, Albedo dusted off his pants and straightened his jacket. A look of unashamed disinterest painted his expression as Timaeus rambled on about his findings.

Truly, you don’t recall Albedo ever showing such emotions with you―a detail not necessarily heartwarming, but still reassuring in an indescribable way.

Perhaps it was due to you being so sure that he’d rid himself of you when you no longer proved useful. Which made the swirling of affection and enamour in his eyes when he gazed upon you settle your nerves, even in just the slightest.

“...which I unfortunately have yet to procure. But―ah, I’ve gotten ahead of myself again. My apologies, how is your research coming along. And...who might you be?”

If Albedo recognized the look of severe anxiety flashing across your face, he paid no mind. Instead giving you a small, somewhat warm smile. As if to say, “Go ahead.”

The few seconds that passed were done in silence, you desperately trying to read Albedo’s face for ulterior motives, and the man behind you shuffling awkwardly in place while he waited for a response.

By some miracle, your body moved on autopilot, turning around to finally acknowledge the cause of your newfound distress. Only, you couldn’t even look him in the face.

Your mouth was dry, mind foggy and unable to think of a response that was anywhere near being coherent.

“...I―uh…”

“This is my new assistant. Please do forgive her, she’s quite shy.”

A shaky breath escaped your rigid body at the sound of Albedo’s voice, and the feeling of his hand resting gently upon the small of your back.

The blatant lie that only you and him recognized echoed inside your head.

Timaeus had no clue who you were, or what you meant to Albedo. But if he did know, you wondered what he would do.

“...Ah, it’s strange we’ve never met before.”

You could tell without looking that Timaeus was studying your form. With the way his tone shifted to something a little more unsettled, a pit grew in your stomach knowing how he had picked up on your questionable nervousness.

The hand resting on your back felt a little more heavy.

Albedo showed no signs of botherment, “That’s likely because she’s not from here.”

For some ungodly reason, the less experienced alchemist took this as an opportunity. “Oh, if that’s the case then we should show her around. Sucrose could use someone like herself to―”

“Actually, we were just leaving. I’m afraid I’ve kept her out in the cold too long, and descending the mountain any further is quite a reckless task in this weather―” His head turned to look at you, no longer addressing his student, “―right?”

If Timaeus was told of what his teacher had done to you, would he help? Even if he looks up to Albedo, even if everyone does, surely they would step in.

Only, the issue remained that first you’d have to prove to them you were in danger.

...And really, you weren’t. Not anymore.

The tender bruises around your wrists and ankles had healed long ago. Your health was in near perfect condition, what with how Albedo saw to it that you never did anything to put it at risk. A single and quick glance would show that you were so pristinely taken care of, complexion shining now that you no longer spent nights sleepless from fear.

What were you to even say?

Moreso, it remained true that you didn’t quite want to say anything.

Timaeus wouldn’t believe your truth, and Albedo would likely spin the scenario so that your words weren’t reliable anyways.

It dawned on you that Albedo knew this fact well, why else would he bring you with him if he wouldn’t still be entirely in control of the situation?

A simple movement, his hand drifted to your hip and gripped it firmly, urging.

Your voice, barely a whisper met his ears.

“...Of course…”

That was all he needed, sending an impatient, yet still neutral glance towards Timaeus, the smallest hint of self-satisfaction lingering in it.

His student took the hint.

_____

“I have to say, bringing you with me was quite...productive.”

After dinner, Albedo has you keep him company in his study. You, occupied with a book in a chair across from his desk, while he goes over his findings from the day’s outing.

“Research wise, I was able to study you in a foreign situation.” He continued, conversation one-sided, “The results were to my liking…”

Although construed in his ever sophisticated manner, his words told you that you did something right. He was proud, and that notion made the swell of a strange warmth in your heart grow.

The alchemist’s gaze remained downcasted at the papers strewn about in front of him while he spoke. “...I suppose you should be rewarded for such good behaviour.”

Your eyes flitted up, the story on your lap abandoned completely.

Albedo has never spoken of such a thing, not once entertaining the idea of rewards when he saw no reason to ever extend such gratitude. Even after all this time.

He must be especially pleased, you thought.

Perhaps, enough to grant you back even a small semblance of independence...that would most certainly be your wish.

You’d long grown used to his suffocating personality, the intense interest he paid you often resulting in little to no alone time. Albedo made sure you stayed in eyeshot, and in those inevitable times he needed to leave, he made them quick, and you were to be safely tucked away in the bedroom, door locked from the outside. There wasn’t a single detail he missed, no stone left unturned when trying to improve your security.

Unfortunately for you, it left little autonomy.

Just the smallest taste of self-reliance would be fine. You’d love to cook a nice meal, like the ones you used to make. Or perhaps to pick your own outfit one morning, something more your style than the things he put together for you. Any break from his constant guidance, no matter what shape or form, you’d gladly take―

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then, I’ll meet you upstairs soon.”

Albedo neglected to look up as he spoke, and so he missed how the glimmer of anticipation in your eyes faded away. The way your shoulders dropped slightly, the look of disappointment flashing across your features in understanding of his words.

What he had planned, it was a reward...of sorts.

An excuse, as far as you saw it.

Albedo was known for testing the limits of living beings after all, and in certain ways, such studies extended to how he treats you. It’s a win win for him―he thinks it’s a reward, since he knows he can make you feel good, and doing so just shows him all those little things he can’t learn through idle observation. What makes you squirm or shy away with innocent embarrassment―information just as important as everything else he knows about you.

It doesn’t dissuade Albedo when he finally glances up to see what his offer has done, though the sight does make him feel as though he’s deceived you.

Still, he remains unapologetic. “While you gave me some good insight on how far you’ve...adjusted, I still can’t completely trust you. This merely turned out to be a good opportunity for satisfying your other needs―nothing more.”

Flipping open a nearby textbook, Albedo conveys wordlessly, a difficult habit of his, that the conversation has ended.

You, however, have yet to heed his words. Still seated, the once flickering of hope subsiding with each passing second. Call it grief, but you were sincerely expecting a different outcome. Though, knowing Albedo, and his constant need to grow more knowledgeable, you should’ve seen this coming.

“...I’d rather not have to force your compliance tonight. So, please―” He gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand, focus trained and brows barely knitted while he skims over his readings on the desk.

Honestly speaking, you once thought Albedo was a deeply confusing man. So too was the life he’d meticulously prepared, and swiftly forced you into. Yet, looking back, things may have been more simple than you once perceived.

Your only real job is to exist and comply. And you both know you’re not going anywhere, not going to say no. Especially now, given how effortless it feels to fall into routine, going through the motions of his request and carrying yourself upstairs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s too late for you, what feels like an eternity spent at Albedo’s side having just about rendered your fighting spirit useless. It’s been long since replaced with what you’re coming to know as a certain fondness. You want to see the compassion in his eyes that’s sparked by your willing compliance.

It was a single, tangible goal. Not complex and unobtainable like those tasks of your past life. Attempts at obtaining those desires are futile, when today's events proved you genuinely no longer want them anymore.

It’s much easier to make Albedo proud. You don’t realize that you do it everyday, and that he’s just poor at conveying his own emotions...

Drawing yourself a bath, you wash away past doubts, settling with what your life has turned into.

Distantly, you hear Albedo make his way up the stairs and towards your bedroom. You like knowing what’s to come, which is always something you’ll have with him. You can’t say the same if you leave, and so you finally resolve that you never will.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere x you #albedo x you #tw dubcon

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

Hello! This is the first time I'm ever requesting something 😂

What do you think of Captain Levi taking the weak cadet reader under his ~very~ protective wing?

Thanks!

Aw thanks for sending this in! 🥺 Personally I think that at first he’d be reluctant to get close but eventually he’d feel responsible for their safety.

Here’s a little something sweet for the kids.

Summary: Levi can’t bear to watch another kid die under his care.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: mentions of past abuse and malnourishment

When the group of teens wandered into the courtyard, Levi knew that they were no different from the previous bunch. Wide eyed, heads in the clouds, loud boisterous laughter. All the innocent traits that they should’ve possessed, being only fifteen years old. So as he leaned against the stables with Hange at his side he began to wonder which of the young soldiers would come out on top.

There was a sturdy boy with bright blonde hair and a dazzling smile. He seemed strong, and just from looking at him Levi could tell that he was well versed in social cues. If he could prove himself strong enough to make it through the expeditions, he stood a chance at rising in the ranks. A girl with red hair and sharp brown eyes was looking around her new environment with a certain cagey manor that Levi recognized all too well. He figured that at least she was unlike most of her peers, more focused on the here and now, something that was vital outside of the walls. A brunette boy walked in along with the throng of kids, but his shoulders were pulled back and chin cocked upwards. It was clear that he was confident in his skills, more so than most of his peers. He noted the cuts on his knuckles and how his fellow soldiers granted him a wide berth, Levi figured that he must have been strong enough to demand the respect of his comrades.

It was only Levi’s second year with the scouts, yet he could recognize these traits with ease. Cadets were chewed up in training, spat into action and then digested by titans, well of course not literally since titans don’t digest. He hated that he could recognize those who would not make it apart from those who would.

And when he saw you, he knew that you would not be one of them. Frail and silent, almost an apparition, barely standing apart from the crowd. Levi was thrown right back into the darkest parts of his memory when he took in your malnourished state, the bones that jutted from your wrists, the way that the clothes looked too big on you. It was all too familiar, hunger had been a pain he had endured for the worse half of his life.

He couldn’t fathom why of all the regiments, you had come crawling into the corps. Your eyes were glazed over and your face held no emotion. You jumped when the blonde boy clapped you on the back, his hands rubbing your shoulders almost mockingly. If Levi strained his ears, he could just make out the boy’s words. “-I’m still surprised you came here (Y/n)! Thought for sure you’d drop out and work in the fields.” He teased as he steered you towards the red head who was glaring daggers back at the blonde and you.

“I’ve told you....I’m no quitter.” Your words were strained and clearly you had dealt with this tormenting perviously as well.

“Ah but you see I’m proud of you! Our own little runt rising in the ranks.” He clapped your back once more, causing you to stumble forward and smack into the red head who whipped around and glared at the blonde.

“Knock it off Jake, I’ll break your damn ankles if you keep messin with the lass.” Her accent surprised Levi.

“Oh come on Red, you know I’m right.” Jake pressed as he kept a domineering hand on your shoulder, guiding you forward. Levi couldn’t tell if the banter between the three, or well two of them was friendly or hostile as they marched past the stables.

“Interesting batch this one...” Hange commented as she angled her head down to speak to Levi in a somewhat hushed tone.

“Hmph, I suppose.” Levi agreed, eyes still locked on the retreating cadets.

“Since I’m a squad leader now, I think that I’ll take the blonde, he looks like he possesses a good mind.” Hange brought her knuckle to her lips to nibble the skin as her cheeks flushed with excitement. Levi rolled his eyes, he was still working directly under Erwin as a regular soldier, but he hoped to have his own team as well soon.

“You do that.” Levi grunted, pushing off of the wall to tail the cadets into the dining hall for dinner. Hange huffed in disappointment but still followed after Levi, easily catching up to him and matching his stride.

“And what about you? Erwin mentioned giving you some kids to watch, which would you like to have under your care?” Hange asked as she smirked down at Levi.

“The ones that know how to properly clean their asses.” Levi grunted as he pulled the doors open and marched straight towards the veteran’s table in the back of the room, where Nanaba, Gelgar, Mike, and Ness were already gathered. He grabbed a tray of food before dropping into an open seat next to Mike, Hange falling into the seat to his right.

“-She’s to thin I can’t believe she can even function-” Gelgar was in the middle of a rant when Nanaba smacked him in the back of the head.

“That’s no way to speak about her! God knows what she’s been through.” Nanaba’s voice was hushed and carried an edge of scolding on it as she spoke. Levi followed their gaze back to you, sitting between Jake and the red head, their shoulders brushing against yours as the three or you scarfed down the food. Directly across was the brunette, his eyes were dull and constantly roaming across the room, almost as if he was on look out duty.

“Come on Nan, look at the poor runt! I’m only speaking the truth.” Gelgar argued, your back was to them, jacket strewn across your lap, meaning that your spine could be seen, even from nearly across the room.

“Who’s going to want that responsibility? It’s like sending a lamb off to slaughter!” Gelgar continued and Mike gave a grunt in agreement.

“I’ll take her.” Levi’s voice surprised himself, the table fell quiet as they all stared at him in awe.

“What? Clearly she has some talent if she’s made it this far.” Levi grunted, lifting his tea to his lips in hopes of deterring more questions.

“How bold of you.” Hange said with a wide smile.

“Shut up shitty glasses.” He scoffed and stood, eager to find Erwin and request for the mangey runt to be in his mini squad.

Your feet kicked out in front of you, tapping harmlessly against Casper’s shins. You were eating slower than usual, feeling pressured by Jake and Carina on either side of you. Casper was dutifully keeping watch, something that he had done since you were children, the threat of loosing dinner to rabid street dogs or other children. The inner walls were only kind to those of status, you were examples of that. Casper and yourself had met on the streets and been inseparable ever since, picking up Jake and Carina in the cadet corps. Now you had a happy little family.

“What squad are you assigned to?” Jake prodded your boney ribs, spitting crumbs on you as he spoke.

“Erwin’s.” You answered, taking a chunk out of your own bread as well.

“Ahh for real? I’m with squad leader Hange.” Jake’s chest puffed out proudly and Casper rolled his eyes.

“I’m under Erwin as well.” He said, looking to Carina expectantly.

“I’m under Mike.” Carina said with her mug pressed to her lips.

“So we’ll be splitting up...” You said with a dark look on your face.

“Seems so.” Jake agreed in a light hearted manner.

“We’ll be okay.” Casper said to the group, but his eyes were locked on your own.

As it turned out, you weren’t exactly under Erwin Smith’s care. Instead you were standing in front of his prickly subordinate, shivering in the cool morning air.

“You lot will be working alongside me, when I say to do something I mean it. I don’t like repeating myself.” Levi paced up and down the row of cadets, only about five kids in total.

“You want to live, train hard and trust in your comrades.” He continued, pausing in front of a girl with blonde hair.

“Study the formations, keep your gear pristine, and care for your horse as if it was your own child.” Levi’s boots crunched on the gravel as he stopped in front of you. You were tense and your eyes were more alert than he remembered.

“Got it?” He growled and all the cadets nodded eagerly and gave him a flurry of ‘yes sirs’ .

“Yes sir.” He noticed how your jaw was locked and your shoulders were pulled back. Already he was seeing improvements.

“Good, let’s get started then.”

In the few months that you had to prepare for the expedition, you made slow progress. Putting on weight and muscle alike, all thanks to Levi. He often requested you to help him with his paper work and re shelving the books in the scout’s library. As a reward he would often gift you extra rations, you were grateful of course. But as the expedition neared it became obvious that he was not going to sign you off.

“-Captain I have to go, it wouldn’t be fair to my comrades! They need me!” You begged, hands splayed out on his desktop as he leaned back in his chair.

“Quit whining, I’m trying to spare your pathetic life.” Levi scoffed as he glared up at you.

“But sir, it’s not fair. It’s like you said, my life isn’t worth more than my comrades’.” You argued, surprised by your own stubbornness as you glowered at your superior.

“You’re right....but every human life is special in its own right. If you were to perish under my care....I’d never-”

“It’s part of the job. I signed up knowing the risks, I’m sure you did too. So....let me do what I signed up for.” Your voice mellowed out and you averted your eyes, embarrassed by the outburst.

“I won’t let you die out there. Sit this one out, work harder, gain some strength and then you can join us on the mission. If there’s one thing in this world that I hate more then filth, it would be a pointless death.” Levi rose to his feet and met your gaze once more. You couldn’t deny that you were weak, he was right, if you were to go out there now, you would surely perish.

“Fine, just this once.” Levi felt his heart float with relief, even if it was just one mission, it was still more time that he could spend on training you.

“Thank you, now get the fuck out of here.” He pointed at the door and you saluted him one last time before leaving him alone in his dimly lit office. He promised himself that he would do his best to prepare you, keep you safe, keep you alive. That was all he wanted, he knew that this was a dangerous wish, but he was determined to see it through, no matter what.

#levi squad #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #hange zoe #erwin smith #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader insert #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #aot fandom

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

“Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

“And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

“Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much.

Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me.

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

“I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian.

I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap.

Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well.

“Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal.

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow.

“Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down.

I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me.

Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish.

I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said.

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,”

“Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes.

Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,”

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?”

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked.

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled.

I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...”

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed.

“What do you-”

“Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled.

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me.

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

“I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed.

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it.

Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out.

Relief that I could finally be happy.

Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more.

Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before.

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444 @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas @fangirl125reader

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi #bts hybrid au

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tokyotokoyami · 4 years

Text

MHA Character Reaction: Getting You Pregnant

Aizawa, Bakugo, Hawks, Kaminari, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, + Tokoyami

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Warnings: 18+, unplanned pregnancy, brief mentions of abortion, profanity and obscene language

A/N: not really anatomy neutral but doesn’t use pronouns so still gender neutral

“we’re having a kid?”

notice how he says ‘we’

heart melting

pretends to be upset but really isn’t

“great now i have another rugrat to take care of”

kind of stoked to have a mini him running around

really wants a boy just because he really does want to see a tiny version of himself

if he had a girl he wouldn’t be mad though

would spoil his little princess

the type of guy to buy cheesy matching outfits for the kid

tries to help out in his own special way

“go sit down. i can do it myself dumbass.”

cooks for you a lot more

just wants to take care of you and your little prince/ss

if you ever complain about being pregnant, don’t

he’s going to complain right back

“the hell are you complaining for, you’re the one that wanted me to knock you up.”

he’s going to try even harder to be the #1 hero

that dumbass tsundere wants nothing more than to be the best for you and your baby

so excited

“i’m gonna be a dad? i’m gonna be a dad!”

you’ve never seen his face light up that bright

smothers you in kisses, picks you up and spins you in circles

immediately becomes what i like to call a helicopter husband (even if you’re not married)

“sorry was that too tight? did i hurt you?”

he’s gonna nag you ALL. THE. TIME.

“hey babe, are you eating enough? are you getting lots of fluids?”

“you’re not drinking coffee are you? don’t it’s not good for the baby.”

“don’t stand for too long or you’ll-“

ALL. THE. TIME.

if you’re thinking about doing anything just don’t

if you’re a pro hero he will demand you take off work for the next nine months

of course he didn’t want you getting hurt before but now he really doesn’t want you hurt

he wouldn’t necessarily want you to stop working completely but he’ll suggest you stay in the office

he’d never force you to stay behind though,, he doesn’t think it’s manly to force anything on you

but he cares a lot and wants you as safe as possible

buys baby shoes for the hell of it

“they were cute! just like our little angel inside of you.”

his brain is blank

nothing you’re saying is going through to him

“YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?!”

needs time to process

when his brain finally stops short circuiting he’s going to panic

“i’m not ready yet! what are we going to do?”

he’ll come around after like a day or so

and when he does oh boy are you in for a treat

super proud

brags about it non-stop

“hey did you hear? y/n is pregnant with my baby. we’re starting a family.”

“yea denki we know you’ve told us twenty times already”

super excited even though he has no idea what he doing

thinks pregnancy is hot

starts calling you mama

“hey mama, lookin’ good”

in the end he’s excited to be a dad even if he has no idea what he’s doing

"cool”

isn’t worried at all really which is weird considering he hasn’t thought about having kids

doesn’t even consider getting rid of it

the type of guy to take parenting classes because he wants everything to be perfect

comes home one day with tons of bags

“i bought this for the baby”

he’s got clothes, shoes, toy, stuff for a nursery, EVERYTHING

he’s got stuff for you too

he’s spoiling you more than before

gives you some of the those good old icyhot massages to make you feel better

holds your hair back when you get morning sickness

goes out of his way to satisfy your pregnant cravings no matter how disgusting or bizzare they may be

makes sure you have a good doctor which a lot of people tend to really overlook

the perfect partner really

now why the hell would you tell him this

he’s going to freak the fuck out

his head is going a thousand miles a minute

does that little deku mumble thing

will ask all might what to do

does his research

wants to learn everything about pregnancy

and when he does

he’s mortified

thinks of all the pain you’re going to be in nine months from now

tries to make up for it by babying you

waits on you hand and foot

you could breathe in a certain direction and he’s in butler mode

“what is it? your breath changed. do you need something. i can get it for you. just tell me what it is i got it.”

“well this is unexpected.”

immediately assumes you don’t want this

“your body your choice.”

isn’t going to tell you he wants to keep it

he doesn’t want to influence your decision

he doesn’t want you to feel like he thinks you’re a incubator or something when that certainly isn’t the case

if you tell him you’re keeping it he’ll be so relieved

he’s thanking all the gods at once

if you’re not married already he’s going to propose

isn’t super traditional but he thinks you might as well seal the deal if you’re just going to start a family regardless

he had decided a while ago that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

his plans just got a little sped up

but he’s happy

his dream come true

“are you serious right now? if you’re joking i won’t forgive you.”

since he had his childhood stripped away from him he’s wanted nothing more than to have a kid of his own to show the world how it’s done

i think he’s another one that wants a daughter but i also see him wanting a son

and for that reason i think he’d want the gender to be a surprise

he doesn’t want to know until that thing comes out of you

he buys a tiny version of his hero costume for the kid to wear

he would expect the kid to have his quirk

so he mentally prepares for that

and brags about it

“they’ll be flying around the city in no time, isn’t that right kiddo?”

did i mention he talks to your stomach constantly

gets off on the fact that he’s the one that got you pregnant

constantly tells you how much he loves your pregnant body

lets you know that fun time does not stop just because you’re pregnant if you know what i mean

very calm

why should he panic anyways

he already has a kid,, what’s so bad about having another

he cares more about how you feel

“are you willing to go through all the pains of being pregnant?”

tells eri she’s getting a sister

and yes he says sister

does not hide his desire for a daughter

just another princess for him to spoil

he does consider the possibility of eri feeling differently about him now that he has a biological kid otw

so he’ll go out of his way to show her that he still loves her the same

will buy cat themed items for the child

goes to the doctor with you and holds your hand the whole time

honestly he gets super protective of you,, way more protective than before

someone on the street could look at you the wrong way and he’d think about suspending them from a lamp post in his scarf cocoon

also quite a bit more touchy

whether it be in public, at home in the kitchen, on the couch, or laying in bed with you in his arms

hes always got a least one of his arms wrapped around you because he wants to feel closer to the little monster inside of you

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

Text

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗲.

🧢 Warnings: Spoilers, language, trigger warning

🧢 Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN9Yqeuo9Fo

Hey Kids by Molina (REALLY slowed down)

((I think that the music really fits the aesthetic of this movie, so like... listen to it while reading?))

- Tom Holland Masterlist

- Masterlist

I don’t think that I’ve ever seen anyone more embarrassed than Emma was that day. I had known the Russels for years. Sometimes they would even invite my mother and I over for dinner.

But watching Rev. Teagardin humiliate her like that. Calling her less fortunate. She looked mortified. He was scarfing down her chicken livers as if it were a burden. Emma looked almost in tears.

But when I looked over at Arvin, I could feel the anger radiating off him. Like the sun shining down on asphalt on a hot summer’s day. I knew Arvin was violent. I had seen it my fair share whenever someone picked on Lenora after school had dismissed everyone for the day.

He wouldn’t fight them then, like anyone usually would. He’d leave. Then come back, picking them off one by one. And after I saw what he did to a few boys the past week, I knew what he was capable of.

He held his grandmother close that day, his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulder, holding her as she buried her face into his shoulder, the unsettled expression on her face no longer seen by the people in the church who were looking her way.

When everyone began eating, I watched as the Russels walked out, their heads almost hanging low. I nearly missed them, their escape was almost unnoticeable. Which was good, considering what had just happened.

I excused myself, my mother giving a quick nod as I stepped away from the conversation.

“Ms. Russel?” I walked quickly to catch up with them, “Ms. Russel??”

The first one to turn around was Lenora, her eyes darting to the ground once hers met mine.

Soon all three of them had stopped, Emma finally meeting my gaze.

“I-I’m sorry about what happened in there, I’m sure the chicken livers were amazing. You truly have a talent...,” I paused, watching as her eyes softened up, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love it if you’d show me how to make them, if you’re willin’,”

Emma reached out and grabbed my hand, a smile on her face as she began to speak, her voice weak.

“Of course. Thank you, [ y / n ], those words really mean somethin’.”

I nodded my head, “Well, I’m speakin’ the truth.”

For a second, only for a second, I looked up at Arvin. And he looked right back at me.

The diner was almost closed, the clock on the wall reading 10:00 pm.

My blue uniform was stained with coffee, among other things. My hair was driving me crazy, and my clothes were wrinkled. My tights looked yellowed and my shoes were scuffed.

God was really testin’ me today, wasn’t he?

The door suddenly opened, the bell above it ringing, making me jump. Everyone else had already left. So it was just me that had to clean up and lock up.

I guess plans changed now.

I knew who it was once I took a good look at him. That denim jacket was somethin’ I could recognize from a mile away.

Arvin sat at the counter, taking his hat off, setting it to his left side, situating himself on the seat.

“What can I get you, hun?” I knew it was cheesy as all hell to put the ‘hun’ at the end, but whenever I added that, I usually got a bigger tip.

“I’ll just have a coffee.”

“A coffee at this time-a night?” I giggled, “You must be pullin’ an all nighter.”

He gave an unreadable smile in my direction, and I got the hint, turning around and pouring the last of the coffee in the pot into a tan mug. But I knew he was watching me. After all, what else was there to look at?

I set the coffee down, and for a moment he watched my hands as I set it down. Secretly, I hoped that he noticed the red nail polish decorating my nails. My mother always said red suited me like a tiger with its stripes.

He then looked up, his golden-brown eyes meeting mine as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I appreciate what you said to my grandmother the other day. The reverend ain’t got no business treatin’ her like that.”

I gave a simple nod, leaning over the counter and locking my knees.

“I agree. What he said wasn’t right. Makes me think he might be better off as one of the men on the radio. But then again, he might be over-qualified.”

Arvin let out a small laugh, a smile on his face, and I could feel my cheeks beginning to turn a light shade of pink.

The music in the background gave a soft atmosphere.

“My grandma wanted to invite you and your mother over for supper tomorrow night. Suppose you can do that?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

The drive up to the Russell’s home wasn’t too far from town, and mother knew her way there like she was the one who lived there. Her and Emma had been friends for a while, meeting in church of course, and she also happened to know Lenora’s mother.

We pulled up, the sun just setting. Emma came outside just as she heard the engine of the car, my mother hopping out the car, hugging her tightly. As I opened the car door, I immediately looked for Arvin in spite of myself.

“Oh, dear, come give Auntie Emma a hug,” my mother called to me.

“Hey, Emma,” I greeted, giving her a big hug. She always smelled like cigarettes and daisies with a hint of peach.

“Hello, darlin, you look stunning,” she enquired, referring to the new top my mother bought for me recently.

I quite liked the pink top. It fit well with my jeans.

“Where’s Arvin?” my mother asked. I secretly thanked her in my head for asking the question, just so I didn’t have to.

“Oh, he’s out there somewhere,” she motioned towards the clear branches of the small forest they had behind the house, “Mind wrangling him in for dinner?”

“Course, Emma,” I smiled, my mother leading the older woman inside.

I gave a small sigh, looking at the expanse of the skinny trunks of trees. I walked out, the leaves crunching under my feet. At least I knew that he could hear me coming.

“Arvin?” I called out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the brown eyes that had been bothering me in my dreams for the past several days.

“Arvin??”

“[ y / n ]?” I heard from behind me.

I jumped, turning around.

“Arvin!” I held my hand over my chest, “You scared the hell outta me!”

“My apologies.” he said.

“Your grandma wanted me to ‘wrangle’ you in for supper,”

“Well, come on then, there’s no use in keepin’ everyone waitin’,”

He grabbed my hand, making my heart jolt as he pulled me along with him, practically dragging me through the sticks.

As everyone sat down for dinner, Emma set down her special dish at the center of the table. It was the chicken livers she had made for the reverend, looking like an exact copy.

“These look amazing, Emma,” I smiled up at her, and in return she gave me a grateful smile.

“Well, what are y’all waitin’ for?” Emma laughed, “Dig in,”

By the end of it, my plate was filled with food. Mashed potatoes, chicken, green beans, and fruit.

Everyone started to eat, and I looked at everyone, my eyes first met Lenora.

“So, Lenora,” I began, Arvin’s head immediately snapping up almost on instinct.

I didn’t blame him. Gene Dinwoodie and his friends always made fun, and eventually, so did everyone else. But I every time I encountered her, I was always nice.

“I heard you did real good in math class,” I smiled, Lenora looking down at her plate, “Must be nice, you really are smart,”

“Thank you,” she muttered, a shy smirk on her face.

I then felt a hand take mine, giving it a soft squeeze. I looked over, Arvin’s face contorted into a thankful expression.

“She is quite the smart one, ain’t she?” Emma smiled, proud as punch of her daughter.

And so we ate, and talked, and ate some more. And when Emma brought out the pie after dinner, Arvin and I found our way out to the porch, both of us sitting together on the stairs.

“I heard what you did to Gene and his friends,” I brought up, Arvin giving a look of guilt, partly hoping I didn’t think lowly of him, “I don’t blame you, he's so dumb, he could throw himself on the ground and miss.”

Arvin let out a full-hearted laugh at that, and I felt the heat on my cheeks come back. He nudged my shoulder as I tried to take another bite of blueberry pie.

“I don’t think the people in this town realize how twisted people are. Everybody loves Gene, even though he’s meaner than a grizzly bear, and not to mention that flashy preacher.”

“Somethin’ about him don’t seem right,” I agreed, looking out into the night, the light behind us on the porch casting a shadow.

“I don’t like the way he looks at Lenora.” he admitted, “He’s a lyin’ son of a bitch, he would tell you an alligator is a lizard.”

“I guess it’ll just be between us, because nobody else will hate the reverend. Maybe we can just... pray somewhere else,”

Arvin looked over at me, a glint in his eyes. Somethin’ told me the idea was familiar.

“Alright then, pray with me,” he set his plate to the side, looking over at me.

“Oh, you mean right now?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

So we sat together, praying for nothing imparticular.

And that night, I saw a different side of Arvin. Not the mean, angry bully the other kids would refer to him as. And I was almost certain that I was falling in love with him.

“[ y / n ]??” My mother called from downstairs, “[ y / n ]!!!”

I rushed downstairs as fast as I could, my mother gripping the phone as she looked destroyed.

“Mama?” I asked walking over to her quickly, taking the phone, and putting it up to my ear. But there was nothing but a dial tone, “Mama, what happened?”

“I-It’s L-Lenora,” she stuttered out, holding her chest tightly, “Sh-She-”

“What, Mama, tell me,” I sat her down, asking her in a soft voice, trying to coax the answer out of her.

“[ y / n ]... Lenora hung herself.”

I held my mama that night. Held her tight. But the only one I truly thought about was Arvin.

Everyone stood at the side of the grave, an oak colored coffin before it would be lowered into the ground. I held Arvin’s hand, his eyes red and puffy. He had been crying for a while. There was no use in trying to calm him down. He needed to mourn.

“Oh lord,” Emma held her chest, my mother’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, “There’s just some things we can’t understand,” she leaned down to the coffin, “But you take her into your arms...” She held her bible close to her chest, sobs leaving her mouth.

“Uh, ain’t somebody,” Uncle Earskell spoke, “Sayin’ prayers or,” he stopped to clear his throat, Arvin giving him a deadly look.

Earskell stopped talking, Arvin helping his grandmother off the ground, her sobs never stopping, my hand lightly drifting across his back, the action encouraging him to do the same to Emma.

The drive home was painfully silent. My mother drove, and I sat next to Arvin. I didn’t know what we were. As far as I knew, we were best friends. But I couldn’t help but want something more.

But I couldn’t be selfish. He was going through a lot right now. I thought that all he needed right now was someone to be there for him.

As we reached the Russell’s house, Earskell helped Emma out of the car, and I moved out of the way to let Arvin out.

“Take care of yourself, Arvin,” I said, giving him a remorseful look.

When I got the little piece of paper on my porch, I thought nothing else of it, putting it with my other mail.

But when everyone began to talk about the preacher and how he was shot and killed, the things left on his corpse including a girl from town’s panties, I knew he had somethin to do with Lenora.

Arvin went missing off the face of the Earth. It killed me not knowing where she was, his family scared sick. My mother went to go help Emma, knowing that if that woman suffered anymore heartbreak, she would die.

When I had gotten home from visiting the church, I opened the piece of paper.

My heart almost stopped as I read it.

[ y / n ],

I am writing this to you because I know that there is no way I can say this to your face. There are things in this world you need to deal with firsthand. I know what happened to Lenora. Our suspicions were correct, he’s bad. Real bad. Just know that what I’m about to do is something I’m not doing because I want to. It’s because I have to. Don’t try and look for me, it’ll do you no good.

But we will meet again, I swear it.

Arvin.

But I was gonna go find him. I felt like I had to. He was my best friend.

I couldn’t do this without Arvin. I was worried sick, trying hard not to think about worst case scenarios.

That night, I packed my bags. I didn’t know where to look first, but somethin told me he would head to his old hometown, Knockemstiff. I packed my bags, and tried my best not to look back, knowing if I did, I would. turn around.

Two days had passed, and if I was completely honest, I didn’t know my east from my west. I didn’t bother to call my mother. I had other things on my mind. All I had was a bag in the back and a wallet full of cash.

It was the middle of the day, and at this point I didn’t know if I was ever going to see him again. I clutched the wheel tightly, feeling my chest contract, tears brimming in them as I felt as if I would pass out.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” I yelled, trying to keep a stready way on the road. It was so hard. What was I doing? Leaving everything I’ve ever known for a boy. My mother had done the same thing, and as much as I loved her, I didn’t want to become her.

I suddenly swerved to the side of the road, getting out of the car, slumping to the ground. I didn’t know what to think. I loved him. I would do anything to have his hand in mine again. Even if it was just for a second.

“Please, please, please,” I found myself sobbing, repeating the same words over and over again.

Everything that had happened. Everything that was discovered. Lenora, her mother, the story of Arvin’s mother and father. Everything built up.

“[ y / n ]?” a soft voice in the distance, and for a second, I thought it was delusion. Something that was caused by the heat. It sounded like him, but it couldn’t have been.

God really was cruel today wasn’t he?

“[ y / n ]!” the voice was closer now. I picked my head up and looked in the direction of the voice.

I screamed on shock, picking myself up, running in the direction of the face that I had been thinking about ever since I left.

I embraced him, sobbing into his shoulder, my body shaking, the boy’s bag dropped to hold onto me tight. I didn’t want to let go, I feared he would evaporate, disappear again. I prayed God wasn’t playing a cruel joke on me.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” I whimpered into his shoulder, my face buried into the crook of his neck.

I pulled back, putting my hands to his face, one on each side, taking in his face.

His eyes were filled with tears as well, his expression unreadable. I then took note of the dirt all over him, “Where did you go?” I whispered.

“Please don’t take me back home,” he started crying, “I can’t face my grandma like this...,”

“I wasn’t planning on it. I wasn’t planning on going back myself.” I admitted.

“Where are you headed?”

“Wherever you’re goin’.”

((Boy oh boy, here we go-))

#arvin russel x reader #arvin russel #the devil all the time #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #lol dont sue me because I'm tagging peter parker even though its about arvin

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 21: Huangshan

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Listen, I am giving myself whiplash with how much I keep wildly swinging between whether I prefer Liu or Lao LOL. Hope you guys are having just as much fun! I missed Liu. Lawd, did I miss him. Also I did not intend for it to take this long to get to the CHOICE. It's coming after the part with Liu and some plot stuff that has to happen to trigger it! Also, I miss Chen, so she'll be back after Huangshan. ALSO have you looked at pictures of this place?? SO PRETTY!! Much love, hope you are all well. <3 Thank you for the love as always. I appreciate you so much.

Next Update on Saturday. New story on Sunday!!

Part 20 Part 22 Chapter Index

Kung Lao was a bruised, bloodied, and pale mess the next morning and much of your spare moments were spent tending to wounds and trying to get him to sit for a damn minute. He fought you at every second, as if taking care of himself would somehow make it worse.

The morning dragged on, and you were grateful to check out and make your way to the roof. Kung Lao closed his eyes, praying, and lightning struck the roof for you to travel through. It was still weird and a little beyond belief, but you’d fought a monster last night, so you had to suspend your inner skeptic and go with the flow. You handed over the carefully wrapped bell which Raiden set behind him on a pedestal that had been added since you left.

He thanked you for your duty and you offered Kung Lao a hug and tried to convince him, again, to take care of himself. He insisted he was fine, of course, but also wished you good luck. You wasted no time. Raiden summoned his magic lightning again, offered you a neatly written note from Liu, and then you were alone.

The weather in Huangshan was gloomy, just the way you liked it. The sky was gray and rumbling with thunder, the slightest hint of sun peeking through to offer warmth between the gaps in the clouds. You unfolded the note as you walked along the tourist filled streets. He’d even started the note with niceties. Oh, Liu. He hoped you were well, he found you a place to stay and took some liberties that he hoped you were okay with. He also left you a time and place to meet him. It was the lobby of the hotel that he had booked for the occasion.

You were early and it felt nice to be alone. Your nerves were shot from the lack of sleep the night before and from Kung Lao’s… everything. A walk alone would do you some good. The small town halfway up the mountain was geared toward tourists. Hotels, boutiques, restaurants, and the like.

You’d missed China. Japan had been beautiful but this was home.

You stopped a man who looked confident in his way around town and asked him for directions to the hotel that Liu had written about. You bowed politely as he pointed you in the right direction. As you turned the corner, you heard a choir of angels in your head. Clothing stores. Real clothing stores. This was how you were going to blow the rest of your money.

You spent the rest of your alone time shopping and afterward you were proud to say you’d had enough clothing for an actual wardrobe. Different kinds of shoes, cute and practical, underthings, things to wear to bed, casual things, dressy things. Things you never would have allowed yourself to spend money on before. Money didn’t seem to matter as much as it had before all this. Then you’d bought a little bag to pack it all in and shoved it away. You’d got some other necessities too, things that had seemed everyday basics had become luxuries.

You’d changed after purchasing your clothing and jeans and a t-shirt had never felt so good. Even though you’d bought a bunch of new things you decided to keep the hanfu and gi that you had been gifted. You liked them well enough. It was the lack of choice that had bothered you.

The Huangshan Yeechoi hotel was more modern than the one in Japan had been and much tidier. You felt out of place, but no one gave you a second glance, so you were grateful. It wasn’t that it was fancy, just that it was different than you had expected. There had been no room number in the note Liu had left you, just instructions to meet him in the lobby.

Thankfully, Liu Kang came from the stairwell moments after you arrived. You’d been just about to ask the clerk behind the desk for his room number and so instead you dismissed the clerk and walked to join Liu. He’d gotten new clothes too! How nice. Not much different from what he usually wore but it was novel to see him in something other than the three gi that he rotated daily. It was mostly black, except for the red sash around the middle, a different shade of red than usual, and the sleeves looked like they had been torn off- as if he had been terribly angry that they existed. There was a subtle pattern stitched in white on the side of the gi. It looked to you like an abstract dragon, but you didn’t linger long on it. As always, his prayer beads were wrapped around his wrist.

He greeted you with a smile and stopped just before you with a respectful bow. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.” His smile faded quickly as he stood upright, and you averted your eyes immediately. Bruises. There were bruises and you knew he was going to hate it. You’d briefly forgotten about them with all the other craziness.

“Good to see you too, Liu!” You tried to save face, but it was too late.

“Japan must have been something.” He furrowed his brow with concern and tilted your chin up to get a better look at your neck. Your face was instantly red. “Are you okay?” That had been the worst of it, but you’d barely had time to think of it that morning because Kung Lao had been so much worse off than you were. You should have worn a scarf. Damnit. It looked bad when you thought about it. Like you were either being abused or had a very specific kink.

“It was an adventure but I’m fine. I promise. It’s obviously sore and bruised but I feel great otherwise.” You were tired, so that was an exaggeration, but it felt good to have accomplished something and to be out of the temple. He continued to examine the bruise as if he didn’t believe you, so you swiped his hand from your chin, gave it a squeeze and then set it down. His disbelief faded and his smile returned. Your nerves about your connection, your friendship, returned screaming into your brain.

“You brought a bag?” He gestured behind you. You realized that probably seemed funny since you had no intention of staying for too long.

“…yes.”

“Well, the woman at the front desk will make sure it gets to our room. We have plenty to do.” Liu rested his hand on the middle of your back and guided you to the front desk. You spoke to the clerk there. She was incredibly accommodating. Liu offered her your room information and you handed over the bag. Then you went on your way. He led you from the lobby of the hotel and walked slowly through the streets of the tourist town. “Tell me about Japan.”

Boy, there was a lot to say about Japan, but you figured he probably meant the artifact and how you’d fared.

“There was a monster which I didn’t think existed so, processing that.” You were surprised to hear Liu Kang laugh. You’d had a lot to process that had been otherwise beyond belief. “It was protecting a dotaku which I now know is a decorative bell used in rituals during ancient times. The monster was very grabby.” You gestured to your neck. At least it hadn’t left a bruise when it had backhanded you across the room. The last thing you needed was people looking at you like you were in an abusive relationship. At least the neck thing could be explained away for the most part.

“Tell me about the monster.”

“Monster is maybe not the right word for it uh… okay, never mind, it’s the only word for it. It was made from tar and stunk to high heaven, and it was huge.” You jumped so you could reach the height of the monster, which was higher than your jump, but Liu would get the point. He was an excellent listener.

“How did Kung Lao handle that?”

“Oh, you know, like Kung Lao does.”

“Chaotically?” Liu chuckled.

“I’ve never seen one man thrown through so many doors.” You drifted off and he laughed again. The sound of his laughter was sweet, not as hearty as Lao’s but more under his breath and twisting his face into the cutest smile. You’d made Kung Lao out of ink to protect you. That seemed important but you hadn’t processed it yet, really. Your brain was buffering.

“Really though, is he okay?”

“Much worse off than I was because of all the doors and walls but I took care of him the best he would allow. I’m hoping he’ll actually keep his promise to go to the infirmary.”

“Raiden will make sure he does.” Liu reassured you. “Trust me, this won’t be the first time he has to be dragged there. Or likely the last.” He stopped, looked you over and then continued, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Was he on his best behavior?”

“Is he so often in trouble that I should have been that worried?”

“Kung Lao doesn’t like to listen to directions, and he was with you and I know how he is so…” He glanced at you curiously again and you laughed in disbelief. Liu Kang was fishing for information! Interesting. Now that you knew they gossiped about you, you wondered what exactly the gossip consisted of. They were up to something, and you were going to get to the bottom of it. Maybe you had spent too much time with Kung Lao. Liu Kang had always been honest with you, you thought, and now you were suspicious of every word. “He has a track record for trouble, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t give you a hard time.”

“If you have something to ask me, Liu, then you should just ask me instead of this little word dance you’re doing. Are you feeling me out for information and what about?”

“I say what I mean, Y/N.” Liu knit his brow in confusion but still smiled at you. You sighed because that didn’t seem right. Something was off. He could be frustrating too sometimes, you supposed. He had a way of saying things without saying what he meant to say and leaving you guessing at what he had meant. You’d had so many close calls between you now romantically. At least four that you could think of offhand that had nearly killed you. But then it was like nothing had happened. You didn’t talk about it. There was no follow through. If he said what he meant to say, then what did saying nothing mean?

That hurt.

And they’d gossiped about you. Kung Lao and Liu Kang had in some way gossiped about you. You clenched your jaw in frustration. You didn’t have time for this. You had work to do.

“We can talk about it later.” You decided. “Have you figured out anything about where we should go?” That had been the reason he’d gone early you’d been told but you had no idea what was true and what wasn’t anymore. Your head was mixed up and your brain was buzzing.

“Yes. One of the areas from your vision is called the Seas of Cloud. Raiden mentioned that you saw images of deceased emperors, so I was looking into that too.”

“It was in quick flashes. I didn’t understand what they were at first.”

“There are tales about this place and the yellow emperor after which it is named. He used the waters of the springs here to gain eternal life in these stories.”

“Is that your way of saying that you think the springs might be related?”

“Anything is possible, but I figured it was worth looking into. There were springs in your vision too if I recall.”

“Yeah. I saw a bunch of dead emperors and a spring, but it wasn’t… it was different than I expect the ones here to be? It was in a cavern. It felt secret.” You admired the gray sky but still felt tense all over. You had to breathe and let it go but the more you tried the more frustrated you became. “So, we’re narrowing it down to the springs and the Cloud Sea?”

“Yes. We aren’t too far from either of them but it’s still an endeavor to explore. Yet, it is less than the whole of Huangshan.”

“Probably somewhere between if I had to guess. I followed him in my vision through the mountains up to the clouds and into this cavern that had a spring inside it. Oh! Do they have maps of the mountain? Sometimes with places like this they will list caves on the little brochure to explore.”

“I thought of that. Regrettably, the caves are not mapped out and most are off limits without a tour guide.”

“What if we told them that we lived in a cave. Do you think that would help or cast aspersions?” You considered. There you were, trying to defer your frustration and inner struggle with sarcasm again. Liu chuckled.

“Probably the latter. We know what we’re looking for at least and it shouldn’t take terribly long to hike the area. If we don’t find it then we can start to worry.”

“I have a feeling that it’s secret. I don’t think it’s going to be easy to find. Maybe we should try to feel around for information instead of wandering blind?” You stopped walking, trying to take things more seriously. That was hard.

“I suppose that we can play tourist. We’ll stop at the springs and ask an attendant if they know anything about a secret or hidden spring in the caves.” Liu suggested. At least it was a better lie than fake date.

“Fine.” You said flatly and were annoyed with yourself almost immediately. This would be so much easier if your visions weren’t all over the place and fuzzy.

“You seem irritated.”

“Oh?” You bounced on your heels and shook it off. You were sulking. You had to cut it out. “No. I’m sorry, Liu. I didn’t mean to come off that way.”

“Are you sure, Y/N? Because you seem… annoyed and that’s not like you. If I’ve done something to offend you then we should discuss it.”

Oh no. He was good at confrontation. Damnit. “No, you didn’t do anything like that, Liu.” He had but not on purpose, you were sure. You were just touchy after the day before and overthinking. You had to stomp out that inner voice, but it was so loud. Your anxiety hadn’t been this bad since you were a kid. “I’m annoyed with myself. I’m sorry it’s coming out at you. It’s not intentional.”

“Y/N, you…”

“Don’t tell me not to be annoyed with myself, please. If I could navigate these visions in a way that made sense, then we wouldn’t be so lost on where to look and having to spin ridiculous tales and theories of where to go and what we might find. I could just lead us there and that would be that. And if my brain would just calm down, I wouldn’t be so annoyed. It’s a perpetual cycle.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Besides, I don’t mind spending a day or two in Huangshan with you, Y/N. It’s a nice change of pace from Raiden’s Temple.” He smiled sympathetically.

“It’s just like you to put a positive spin on everything.” You scoffed.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“No!” You huffed defensively and then pouted. “I’m coming off grumpy, aren’t I?”

“You are.” He smiled, but amusement danced in his eyes. He thought that your frustration was either funny or cute. You supposed you were grateful for that.

“I don’t mean to. I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’m surprisingly sore from the whole monster thing too so there’s that.” You rubbed nervously at your neck.

“That is a pretty bad bruise, Y/N.” He tilted your chin up again and you grabbed his hand and pushed it away.

“I really should have worn a scarf so you wouldn’t keep pointing it out.”

He laughed and led you through town and along the path that went to the springs. Liu had picked the perfect location for you to begin your search. It was a short walk from your hotel. There were buses that offered transport, but it seemed such a short walk that it was likely for those who were elderly or drunk.

“This is a popular tourist spot. It was difficult to get a room. I don’t usually stay in places like that, but it was the only vacancy that would accommodate us both and be close enough to where we needed to look. I figured that we didn’t know how long it would take us so the luxury would be a nice break.”

“Makes sense.” Why was he trying to justify his selection to you? You liked the hotel. It was nice.

“Grumpy,” he whispered, leaning close on one foot with his hands clasped behind his back.

“I’m trying so hard, Liu.”

You reached the gate to the springs. You couldn’t see the water beyond it, but you could hear people within, and you could feel the steam and heat even from outside. There was a large building with two doors separated by male and female for changing. In front of that was a booth where a young man sat reading a magazine and looking extremely bored.

“Should I meet you inside? We can see if anyone knows anything?”

“Or we could try the attendant first.”

“Him? He’s a distracted kid who has no interest in our questions, Liu. Look at him.” You nodded discreetly toward the young man. He was likely in his early twenties and doing this just for a paycheck by the look of him.

“Yes, but you’re well… you.” He gestured to you, and you looked down at yourself, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You laughed in disbelief.

“You know what it means.” He turned his gaze away from you, hiding his smile but you saw his cheeks turn pink just enough. As quickly as you had noticed it, it had passed. “Now, go be charming and ask that kid about a private spring in a cavern closer to the Seas of Cloud.” He grasped your shoulders gently and turned you toward the booth then gave you a gentle nudge forward. You stuttered on your words and stared forward in complete awe. What the fuck?

Fine. You’d try but he was biased, at the very least. You weren’t built for this kind of thing. You’d always been awkward and terrible at flirting. Gah, you were blushing now too. This was the worst. Okay, deep breaths. You could do this. You didn’t have to be flirty or cute. You could just ask the question. Liu waited behind you, but you didn’t think he was far enough away to be as subtle as he thought he was being.

“Excuse me,” you began politely.

“Just you? Or your friend too?” The attendant didn’t bother looking up at you from the magazine that he was reading.

“I have a question for you, actually.”

“I’ll try to help if I can. Go ahead.” He closed his magazine and finally looked up at you, looked you over, and then was still clearly disinterested. He was working. You knew he would be!

“I heard some stories that there’s a spring in a cavern offsite. Further up the mountain and closer to the Seas of Cloud. I think that it’s considered private. Maybe even off-limits. I was curious if you knew anything about it.” You did your best to sound curious and charming, but you had no idea how it actually came off since you’d been so damn grumpy. The attendant looked from you and then peered around you to Liu. He closed his magazine, folded his hands, sighed heavily, and gave you a knowing look. Oh no, he’d immediately misinterpreted your intentions.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you.”

That was a bad start.

“Oh, I think you maybe…”

“I’m just filling in for my sister today. I needed the extra cash, and she has a date this afternoon.”

You laughed nervously and looked back to Liu since that was where the attendant kept looking suspiciously. “I think that you misinterpreted my intentions. This doesn’t have anything to do with him. I just had heard a story and was curious. A private spring sounds really beautiful.” You were the world’s worst liar. You couldn’t even come up with an excuse other than you thought it might be pretty.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Do you not know then?” You were grumpy again. Damn.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t help you.”

You were flustered beyond recovery now. He had misinterpreted your desire to see a secret spring and the only thing you could think to do was stutter that he had done so. Then Liu was standing behind you, one hand on your back, the other on the counter.

“Is there a problem?” Liu sounded curious and offered a smile, but the attendant rolled his head back and groaned.

“I am not making enough money today to deal with this.”

Liu straightened his posture in surprise and looked to you for further explanation. At least you weren’t the only one flustered. That made you feel a bit better. You turned toward him and he placed his hand on your arm gently. That was probably not helping your case, but it felt nice. “I asked him about an off-limits spring closer to the Seas of Cloud and now he seems to have confused my desire to see this beautiful spring with something…” You stuttered in a frustrated whisper and couldn’t seem to find the word, the obvious word. Instead, you smooshed your hands together in front of you.

“Oh?” Liu tried to interpret your hand motion and then laughed in realization. “Oh. Intimate.”

“That’s it.” You pointed at him. “That’s the word.”

Liu let go of your arm and leaned against the counter with a sigh. “How much would it take for you to give us an answer?” You snapped your head back to Liu so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Look, dude, I don’t even work here usually and…”

Liu Kang placed some yuan on the counter and you stared at it in horror, mouth hanging open. Then you had to close your mouth tight to keep from bursting into hysterics. Your eyes were burning, trying not to cry with tears of laughter. Liu Kang was bribing a stranger to give you directions to a romantic hot spring instead of just explaining himself. Of all the possible outcomes you had expected this was the funniest one.

“Whoa, man… look I…” The attendant stared at the money on the counter and Liu tapped the bills before sliding them toward him. You were dying. This was where you died. RIP. Tears. You blinked them away. Your cheeks hurt from keeping it together. This was amazing. “If you take the main path up it branches about an hour in. Take the left fork and then walk for a bit. As you get close to the Seas of Cloud there’s a few caves. One of them has a spring in it but it’s hard to find with all the trees and not exactly safe. Gives me the creeps. That’s all I got.” He scooped up the bills. “Have fun man and if you get caught it wasn’t me who told you.”

“Thank you.” Liu bowed his head politely and then, hand on your back, led you away from the booth. You started up the hiking trail that had been pointed out to you and then you burst into hysterical laughter, practically hyperventilating from having held it in for so long. Liu pulled his hand back and stared at you with some concern as if he didn’t understand why this was hilarious.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He gently brushed his hand over your shoulder.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh. I guess it was funny. He was going to think whatever he was going to think, Y/N. Sometimes we have to use other resources to get what we need.”

“Oh my god, does that mean you bribe people often? I didn’t expect this. I’m sorry. I wasn’t emotionally prepared for how funny that would be.”

“Only when they’re more convinced by money than words, Y/N.”

You took deep breaths to get yourself together and cleared your throat.

“How very Zen of you.”

“Come on, now.” He chuckled and placed his hand again at your back to lead you along the path that would start your hike. “We have private springs to find.”

“This day keeps getting weirder by the second.” You blinked away the remaining tears from your fit of laughter.

“Was it really that funny?”

“Liu. My stomach hurts from laughing.”

He shook his head with a smile as you continued on your way.

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anomia-sama · 3 years

Text

Dazai x Reader | Midnight kiss

Pairing: Osamu Dazai x fem!Reader

Warnings: suicide references (Dazai’s fault!), probably uncorrect english.

Notes: This is just my way to wish you an amazing, pure, cheerful, and energetic new year! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

◈ ━━━━━━━━ One-shot ━━━━━━━━ ◈

Your eyes are silently running along the skyline of the light-studded buildings as you look at the vast and chaotic Yokohama from above. The city is…eerily quiet, even if it’s New Year’s Eve. There is nobody on the street, it’s surreal, scary and amazing at the same time. You’re all by yourself on the roof of the Armed Detective Agency, slowly breathing the cold winter air; your head is full of memories and thoughts while you mentally retrace what happened this year.

Downstair the Agency members are making noise: not a big party, of course, but when a half-drunk Kunikida meets a perfectly sober Dazai chaos is guaranteed. You have no idea how he made him drink so much, it’s probably one of his hidden (but not too much) talents, he can make people do what they don't really want to do. You just laughed until you cry, but now you need some time to breathe and think in silence.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

« It’s cold outside, Belladonna. You should cover yourself. »

That whisper at your left ear makes you jump and you suddenly turn in Dazai’s direction. You didn’t hear him coming…

« Woah, did I scare you? Sorry sorry. »

He chants with a sly smile on his lips, exhaling a warm and all but innocent laugh. Mpft… that dummy. That annoying, lazy, foolish dummy you have a crush on. You open your mouth to reproach him, but right in that moment you notice something: he holds your scarf in his hands and suddenly he wraps it around your shoulders, slowly and with an unusual care.

« Much better. »

He murmurs, now looking at you with a soft smile.

Sometimes you really hate him, especially when he acts like this, making difficult to hide the effect he has on you. You always ask yourself if Dazai knows. If he, with the brilliant brain of his and that hazel brown and detail-oriented eyes, ever noticed how you look at him, how he makes your day when he jokes around, how you blush when he teases you.

« Thank you. »

You softly murmur, avoiding his gaze and returning to look at the city. A deep and intimate silence surrounds the two of you, suddenly broken by Dazai’s sigh.

« It’s almost Midnight. This year is finally over. » He affirms, crossing his arms on the roof railing.

« Yes. It’s been a difficult year. » You say back, and Dazai nods in response.

« You got that right, y/n. »

Looking at him you can see a nostalgic light in his irises and a sad smile on his lips. That vision silently kills you inside but…how can a human being be so beautiful and graceful, even wearing that expression?

« So. Do you have any New Year’s resolution? »

Dazai’s question sounds inquisitive and yet legitimate, that kind of curiosity he usually addresses to a client or a suspect. He looks at you, patient and calm, while the cold wind runs through his brown hair. It’s such a distraction, you need almost ten seconds before an answer come out of your lips.

« Yes, I definitely do. I want to be stronger, sharper, braver, happier… » You start listing, touching your own fingertips. « …I want to eat more exotic food, be more proud of myself, better protect my friends and I want to be a better me. What about your New Year’s resolution, Dazai? »

His visage is a soft yet funny mask of surprise. Your list impressed him and he looks at you with sparkling eyes and a smile full of admiration.

« Y/n, you’re soooo inspiring! » He chants again and you’re not sure if he’s joking or not, then he leads a hand to his chin with a theatrical brooding air. « Mhh…I use to live day by day, so I don’t have proper resolutions or long-term plans. Except for one. »

A sudden scream come from downstair.

Ten seconds left!

You’re paralyzed by Dazai’s gaze. The young detective is right in front of you, closer than you can handle. His scent is addictive…it’s hypnotic.

« Please, don’t say suicide or I’ll kill you. »

He laughs.

Nine.

« Is it a proposal, y/n? »

« Dazai! »

« Okay, okay, sorry. »

Eight.

Before you can say anything, his cold hand softly touches your cheek. His fingertips slowly caress your red cheekbone in a delicate touch that makes you violently shiver. Why is he so close? Why is he smiling in that way you secretly love?

Seven.

« Let’s say so, y/n: I’m a simple and undemanding man. I don’t know what to expect from the new year and I don’t want to make resolutions. »

Six.

His hand gently slides under your chin, except for his thumb, tenderly caressing your lips. You feel like the whole world is fading away.

« I just want to start it in the best way. And I think I need your help for it. »

Five.

Maybe it’s a dream, or maybe not…

Four.

…but your shaking right hand reaches his chest.

Three.

You can feel his breath on your lips. Dazai’s other arm slowly wraps around your waist in a silent request for consent.

Two.

You instinctively close your eyes and rise your body on tiptoe.

One.

Dazai gently presses his lips against yours. Pure chaos surrounds the both of you, celebration screams, fireworks, breaking glass toasts, Yokohama awakens from its silence to welcome the new year, but you can hear none of this. Nothing else matters but you and the young man tenderly kissing you.

His lips are so soft you’re afraid to ruin them, his arms hold you tight making you feel safe, warm…home.

You know he’s a mess. You know he’s a broken man, even if he never says a word about it.

But, well, you won’t complain add another New Year’s resolution: to take care of Dazai and his inner demons.

When, now breathless, he moves away from your lips there’s a big and genuine smile on his face, that smile you would die for, and two lovely pink circles on his cheeks. His left hand carefully places a lock of hair behind your ear, then he presses his forehead against yours.

« Happy new year, y/n. »

« Happy new year, Dazai. »

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spices-and-cherries · 3 years

Text

Faster Than a Kitten on Parade (Benoit Blanc x Reader)

Okay, not to toot my own horn, but this is actually kind of good? Like I’m kinda proud of myself... I spent a large amount of time trying to figure out southern accents and their corresponding regions that I kinda gave up and said Mississippi. Louisiana is another safe bet? Anyway, to all Bostonians reading this, I’m sorry. I wrote what I wrote for the sake of plot.

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: brief description of near car accident and reckless driving

***This is pure fluff with not even a hint of angst***

Every day you take the bus to and from work. While it’s thankfully a straight shot from where you live, Boston’s public transportation leaves much to be desired. The buses rarely run on time, the traffic is miserable, and in the winter it’s living hell. Snowy, cold, wet... It makes you wonder what made you think of moving away from your hometown to this. Was the career move really worth it? Yes.

But that doesn’t mean that your commute lacks any perks. The bus stop you wait at in the morning is right outside a coffee shop, people keep to themselves (unless there’s a game coming up), and it provides you with the time you need to reflect on the day. Most of all, however, is the new guy.

One of the things that comes with riding the same bus everyday is that you tend to ride with the same people as well. So of course your curiosity is piqued when you first saw him. Everything about him seemed so different from the usual folk you see walking around Boston: kind, gentlemanly, smart...

That being said, you have yet to actually meet him...

Normally, that would be completely fine, but you have to admit something’s going on when a fellow commuter has continued to make your day more than several days in a row. Was it his smile? The way he holds himself? That time he gave up his seat for an older lady? Is it just because he’s so clearly not from Boston?

You’ve been trying to build up enough confidence to actually say something - literally anything - but you always chicken out. The first time it was because he was reading a book and you didn’t want to disturb him. The second was because he was standing barely a foot away from your seat and you blanked because that ass. The third and fourth (and admittedly fifth) time ended in a similar fashion.

That is until one glorious and blessed day.

It was snowing hard, but as usual, the city chugged along without a care. So, you had left your apartment with several layers of sweaters and more handwarmers than you could count (That’s a lie. You were carrying ten.). The bus was unusually full and by the time his stop came around, there weren’t a lot of seats left.

Did you forget to breath when you watched him look at the seat next to you?

Were your hands getting sweaty even though that shouldn’t be possible considering the temperature?

Was your heart running faster than a kitten on parade?

Yes, yes, and yes.

“May I take this seat?” His accent somehow prevented you from speaking so you just nodded and smiled. “Thank you kindly.” You shift slightly to give him some space and to try and get rid of sudden spike in adrenaline that his unexpected (and totally welcomed) accent caused...

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, trying really hard to not look weird or creepy. He has on this grey pea coat and a deep maroon colored scarf. His blue suit pants stretch just a tad over what looked to be some muscle. And his aftershave...is amazing to say the least. But all these fine details aren’t what really catch your eye. For what ever reason, this man has no gloves on. His finger tips are turning purple! Hurriedly, you look in your work bag for one of your spare handwarmers. You find it at the bottom, still in it’s packaging.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t have gloves...” You hand it to him. He looks at you with surprise.

“Oh, no...! I couldn’t possibly...” His voice sounds like honey...

“I insist. I buy so many, I won’t miss one.” You push it into his hands.

“That’s mighty kind of you.” He smiles again. It’s very soft. Like marshmallow clouds kind of soft.

“Oh, not at all!” And in that moment, you did something very daring: you introduced yourself. “Um, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), by the way.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mx. (L/N). I’m Benoit Blanc, but please, call me Blanc.” He offers to shake your hand and you take it. You can feel how cold his hands are through your gloves, but it barely even registers. You’re far too busy trying to memorize his name.

Benoit Blanc.

“Is that French?” Oh. My. God. Really?

“Yes.” He chuckled a little. One side of his mouth went up, scrunching that side of his face. It was a hella cute scrunching. “On my father’s side. Immigrated several generations back.”

“I was gonna say that you don’t really look French...”

“I take after my mother.”

“Ah. That explains it.” You smile, genuinely amused. “Sothen, where are you really from then?”

“A small town in Mississippi. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You nod slightly. “I bet that it’s super different than here.”

“Heh, yeah it is.” Mr. Blanc holds the handwarmer up for a second as emphasis.

“I, uh, I’m from (hometown) - (region) - so I know where you’re coming from. Boston sure is something else, isn’t it?”

“Never have I ever - and I mean ever - been in a town as - as - as unique unto itself as Boston!” A few people look up. You don’t care. You had no idea that a man of his age could look so cute. “Apologies.” He lowers the volume of his voice - not that he really needed to. “Now, comin’ from the South, I’ve had my fair share of human nature, but the drivers here are a whole ‘nother species. It’s like the jungle out there.”

“Did you ever make the mistake of taking a taxi when you first came here?”

“Much to my chagrin, yes, yes I have.” He shakes his head disapprovingly, but you can see a little twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Not too long ago, in fact. The man was speakin’ on the phone and nearly drove us off a bridge... Nearly had a conniption of the heart.”

“That is pretty bad. In my first ride I was this close-” You bring up your thumb and pointer finger, the pads barely a millimeter apart. “-to getting run over by a cement truck because the driver ran a red light. He got mad at me too ‘cause I didn’t tip him.”

“Good lord, that is quite the experience...” His brow furrowed slightly.

“I saw my life go past my eyes.” You say dramatically. “But hey, that’s Boston.” You sigh heavily. “Anyway, how long have you lived in the city?”

“Jus’ a couple of months.” Aha. Just around the time he first started taking the bus... “Yourself?”

“A couple of years. I feel more and more like a true Bostonian every day that passes.” You chuckle. “The plus side though, is that I can show you where all the good food is. I can be your personal tour guide!” It takes a couple of milliseconds for your brain to register what you had just said. “Well, if you’d like that... The offer, uh, stands?” What are you talking about?

“I think I jus’ might take you up on that, if you wouldn’t mind.” This man. Bless this beautiful man. God, that smile. “That bein’ said, I do believe this is my stop.”

“Already? Time flies when you’re having fun.” You smile.

“Yes it does. It was a pleasure meetin’ you, Mx. (L/N),” He stands up. “And thank you very much for your kindness.” He waves the handwarmer a little.

“You can call me (Y/N) and you are very welcome.”

“Then call me Benoit, if you please. Now you have yourself a good day.” He smiles, waves a little, and hurries off the bus. And just like that, your whole year has just been made.

Did you pass your stop a while ago?

Were you smiling like an absolute idiot anyway?

Was your heart running faster than a kitten on parade?

Yes, yes, and yes.

I hope you all like this! I had so much fun writing it and it just flowed out of me. Side note, the title is inspired by Trixie Mattel’s song, Gold. She’s a country singer, but it’s actually good, so check it out! If you have any constructive criticism or requests, please let me know! I am also a big fan of comments - they make my week every time! See you all in the next one! - Simpy

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rizumary · 3 years

Text

Like A Soda Pop (part.2)

This was the highest peak of Hajime Iwaizumi’s delicate springtime of life—according to Tooru, who definitely didn’t have any say in Hajime’s love life. At all. (Or, the one where Iwaizumi got overwhelmed by a kouhai’s not-entirely-unwelcomed romantic advances and Oikawa did have any say in his love life, after all.) [Iwaizumi/OC; confession fic]

Writer: nutteu | AO3 version [part 1] ー [part 2]

There were days that felt like Akeno; soft, airy cotton candy days filled with wondering eyes and quick-silver heartbeats. Where his hands trembled with the confusion of wanting to hold Akeno’s hand or to punch the wall because he was too overwhelmed by her.

But, there were also days when Hajime felt like he ached so deep within his marrow. The cramp from their latest bout of harsh practices, the looming threat of competitions, the painful anxiety of losing, of not being able to play a little bit longer—just a little bit more—

For people like Tobio, like Ushijima, even Tooru, the ache must have been filled to the brim with growth and potentials. But for Hajime, it felt like bone deep weariness and fear. That it wasn’t enough, that he didn’t try hard enough, that eventually, he wouldn’t be able to catch up no matter how hard he worked for it. He was neither the gifted nor the talented. All he had was his love for volleyballs, and the stubborn, unmoving desire of reaching the pinnacle of championships with his team.

On those days, he smiled less, hit the balls harder than ever, took every cramp and ache in his muscles. He came early, went home the last. On those days, there was nothing he would like to do but scream, and practice until his legs give out; nothing but staying away from everyone and curl up and cry. The juxtaposing needs made him tired, so tired.

Tooru knew, of course he knew. On those days, he gave as good as he could; teased less, and pacified the other members when they were worried about Hajime’s unusual walls he erected around him. They all got used to it, in the end, letting him vent out his frustrations instead of coddling him. Joked around and acted like he didn’t run himself to the ground just the day before. They didn’t ask, because there were certain things that couldn’t be shared unless they were awake in the middle of the night, or too tired to pay attention properly after a rigorous training camp.

Akeno Hana brought a change to that—abruptly, with her brand of awkwardness and earnest intention.

When everyone else had left, she waited in the gym for him, sitting on the polished floor with a terrifying focus on her delicate face. Hajime almost jumped in surprise when he realized that he wasn’t alone. The irritation was fast to catch up to him. Tooru really needed something to gag his stupidly big mouth. A fist, preferably.

As if reading the hard lines on his face, Hana shook her head and talked first to soother his fraying nerves. “No one told me, they wouldn’t. No one sells you out, Iwaizumi-senpai. Although, they’re as worried as I am. I just—“ she hesitated, and Hajime let out a long sigh. It wouldn’t do anything to snap at her just because she was on the wrong place, at the wrong time.

He reached for his bottle of water and towel, and sat next to her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t mad at you. Things are just… difficult for me sometimes,” he said. He didn’t know why he bothered explaining this to her. He never did, not even to Tooru; not even to his mom, though she probably understood anyway. Maybe it was the way Hana just showed to him that she perceived and paid attention more than anyone thought, maybe it was the patience he saw in her eyes, maybe it was because—

Oh, God, he thought, heaving a deep sigh that suspiciously wavered at the end. He was tired, he was so tired. Worrying about his passion, the continuation of his education, his career path—it all built up inside his chest, and in days like these, he couldn’t rationalize it, couldn’t clear his head enough to control his mind and emotions.

Hana nodded, and took the box of something that he assumed was a bento. She unwrapped the cloth covering, and he noticed, out of his will, that her hands was delicate, pretty. Acutely in contrast with his calloused, blistered hands. He wanted to try holding her hands, he thought, and shook his head to banish the thought away. Hana didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.

“I, uh, I made this,” she started, sounding shy and proud. “I remembered that you mentioned you like these, and—and you made me chicken karaage too when I was sad. I wanted to help you too, senpai. But I don’t know if I can do something that actually counts, so I thought—maybe at least I can cheer you up with these?”

Hajime looked over, and was stunned to silence. On the red bento box, alongside the regular assortments, were agedashi tofu that glazed so beautifully Hajime was reminded of his hunger. But above the dish, and the fact that he hadn’t eaten since lunch, the fact that she remembered, that she cared enough to try to cheer him up with this—Hajime swallowed, his throat felt dry all of the sudden. He forgot how to speak, for a moment.

“I—“ he croaked out, and was startled to realize that his eyes were watering. She must have been puzzled as to why he looked like he was about to cry right now, because she suddenly rambled in frantic manner, gesticulating with her hands as her small face scrunched up in worry and panic.

“Of course you don’t have to eat these if you don’t want to, senpai!” she hurried to explain. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude or to patronize! I swear, I just—“ she bit her lip, and looked at him with pale, pleading eyes. “I just wanted to help. Please, let me help, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

He managed a small smile, and took the bento from her hands; felt an electric current ran through his fingers when they brushed against hers. “No, this is more than enough, Akeno. Really,” he said, when Hana still looked unconvinced, “you’ve helped a lot by just being here.”

And that might be too honest, contained more implications than what Hajime would be willing to admit right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it back or play it off as something mundane when Hana flashed him the most brilliant smile, happiness etched into the creases around her eyes. He smiled back, stronger, more sincere this time. They were silent after that, but it didn’t feel stifling. Just a comfortable silence to fill in the scant inches of distance between them.

On days like these, Hajime usually wore himself out until he couldn’t think, couldn’t stay awake long enough to let the fear consumed him. But this, he thought as he looked over to Hana’s still smiling face, it felt nice, too.

Hana confessed, out of the blue. Or not so much out of the blue for literally everyone.

It seemed like, Akeno still had one last surprise for him. The biggest, most unexpected surprise that actually felt like a massive, enormous bang in Hajime’s heart: a confession.

(Or maybe, just maybe, Hajime was too busy being conflicted with himself, too busy being enamored by Akeno Hana’s soft, sunny, enveloping charm, to notice that once again, Tooru was right. Hajime really was too dense about romance.)

At first it was like any other day. Of course, it wasn’t any other day. In his defense, Hajime rarely ever got the chance to marvel and enjoy the full extent of Valentine’s Day. Mostly because Valentine had no business at all in the volleyball court. It didn’t matter whether the whole school was in tizzy from the hormone buzz, if coach said lapped until they collapsed, then they’d lapped until they collapsed—Valentine’s Day or not.

Which was probably why Hajime didn’t suspected anything when Akeno walked alongside him, wrapped in her winter uniform and a pink scarf. It suited her, he thought, glancing down at the top of her head. She seemed… nervous. Or maybe she was just cold. She insisted on coming with him to the club, and it was pretty early in the morning. Maybe he could offer her his jacket, too? Yeah, he could do that.

When he opened his mouth to offer, however, Akeno ran ahead of him, before stopping, and extending something on both hands. For a moment, the world stopped. Hajime lost the words forming on his lips as he stared, open-mouthed, at the small, blue box in her gloved hand. She was bowing, her hair falling into curtains and hid the majority of her face, her voice though was as clear as the sun after a rainy day.

“I like you, Iwaizumi-senpai!”

For a heart-stopping second, there was nothing but the faint sound of the students in the distance; the echo of Akeno’s confession ringing in his mind; his accelerating heartbeat beating drums in his ears. He stood there, stock still, too shocked to wrap his head around the situation. Did Akeno… just say that she liked him? Like, the girl who had been charming him left and right and leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy, was actually here, offering him a box of chocolate, and confessing to him? What?

Unfortunately, his mouth only caught up with the last part. “Uh,” he croaked out, hesitant, bewildered, overwhelmed. “What?”

Akeno looked up then, and Hajime suddenly had the epiphany that her reddened face since they met this morning wasn’t just from cold. But because she was holding this in. She looked—afraid, but determined.

“I fell in love with you since the first time we met, senpai,” she said, her voice wavering for a little bit, before strengthening. “I have heard things about you from Kyoutani, but the first time we met, I was immediately taken by your charm. You were so kind even when I was embarrassing myself, you were patient with me, you helped me a lot, you paid attention to me, and you—“ she stopped to take in a breath, and powered through, as though if she didn’t get this out right here, right now, she wouldn’t be able to let out everything in her chest. Her eyes were bright with affection and determination and shyness, but her next words carried on without a hitch.

“You made me feel welcomed. You made me feel accepted and protected, cared for and cherished. I’m so happy when you asked me about things I like, when you mean it, when you hold me as I tripped, when we played together in the arcade. Every day we ate our lunch together, I felt the happiest because I could sit by your side and get to know you more. I’m thankful, that you let me know you in return, and that you trust me enough to open up to me.” There was a small smile playing on the curve of her lips, almost shy, full of happiness as she recalled her memories of them together. “I—I know that there are other girls who you like better than me, but senpai, I, too, wanted to shine in your eyes because in mine, you are the only one I’ve ever had the eyes for.”

Their breaths puffed out in small rush of fog, eyes wide as they stared at each other. Hajime, every so slowly, took the box of chocolate from her hands, and stared at it in amazement. Akeno’s previous words played in continuous repeat inside his head. He was—surprised, extremely so. But his chest felt so warm, despite the weather. It was just that he didn’t know what to say, didn’t trust himself enough to talk properly.

Akeno must have translated his silence into objection, because she seemed even more flustered than before, and her words started to jumble together. “And! I just thought—I thought, I wanted senpai to know about my feelings. Because they feel like they’re about to burst from my chest. Like—like a soda pop! I just wanted you to know, that I like you, senpai! And that you are very precious to me, and I’m thankful for all your helps as well, and that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. So—so um—oh my god, what am I doing—“ she squeaked at herself, and looked up at Hajime with pleading eyes. “so—I just want to say—I like you so much, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

When Hajime still didn’t move, or say anything, Akeno visible gulped, and grinned stiffly. “Um, anyway. That’s all I wanted to say.” She laughed, awkward and very much still high on nervous energy. “Have a nice valentine!”

As she left him, he could faintly hear her murmur, “a nice valentine? Does that even make sense? Stupid Hana!” as she hit her head with her hand. Hajime took a long ass minute standing there, looking at her retreating back, and back to the box that he was pretty sure contained chocolates on his hand.

Everything was happening too fast for him to comprehend, and it almost felt like a dream. But it wasn’t. It didn’t feel so. Because the weight of the box was real, and Akeno’s swaying hair was still in his sight as she left, and the warmth that slowly spread inside him despite the coldness on his face was very much real. This wasn’t a dream. Akeno had actually confessed to him. As in, she liked him.

“Oh my Gods,” he whispered out brokenly after long minutes just staring at the spot where Akeno disappeared. “Oh my Gods she likes me too. Holy shit.”

The revelation, the sudden intensity of happiness, the giddiness that made him lost his breath. Hajime laughed, in disbelief and slightly hysteric because—he just couldn’t believe it. She liked him, as in liked him. . A romantic type of like, the one with fast heartbeats and the unbearable urge to hold their hands, or spend time with them, or smiling when they talked excitedly about their passion. The type of like that now had become one of the spotlights in his delicate springtime of life.

And then, he realized that for the entirety of the confession, he just stood there looking like a dead fish. “Oh my Gods,” he groaned, frustrated and panicked. He hoped Akeno didn’t make the wrong assumption. But then again, she might have. He didn’t even deign her with any answer whatsoever. Which, was fair. She didn’t ask him out or anything back there. So… so it was fine right? Right, it was fine that he didn’t answer because there was never a question to begin with. She just confessed her feelings, and then—and then Hajime could talk to her about his feelings too, and maybe then, he could ask her out. Yeah, sure, he could do that. He just needed to calm down first, and tried to wipe the giddy grin on his face.

(He didn’t meet Akeno for the rest of the day, but Tooru had seen the box of chocolate in his bag, and was so insufferably smug that Hajime had to punch him. He ate the chocolate at home. It was a tad bitter—she probably took the wrong type of chocolate—but it warmed his heart nonetheless.)

Akeno didn’t come to the club anymore after that. She avoided him in the hallways, didn’t come to their usual lunch time, didn’t reply to his messages, didn’t pick up his calls, even Kyoutani was at loss. Hajime was, to say the least, panicking. No, it wasn’t right, he was an absolute wreck.

He was worried about it to the point of considering just ambushing her after classes, but she would just squeak and run as she did these past few weeks. The other players had been asking about her, too. “Did you guys get into a fight?” they asked, or something like, “There’s finally a problem in the paradise, huh?” which would get a glare from Hajime, typically. He couldn’t exactly tell them that it wasn’t a fight; it was a confession, which was mutual, but they both were too dumb to deal with it properly.

It went on for about a month, before Hajime finally snapped, and turned to Tooru.

That motherfucker laughed. Of course he did. He spent his sweet ass time rolling on Hajime’s mattress, after eating Hajime’s cookies, laughing at Hajime’s misery. It hadn’t even been five minutes and Hajime had regretted this decision, very much so.

“So, in conclusion, she confessed to you, but was too nervous to ask you out and just hightailed it out of there?” Tooru asked, after calming down and wiping tears from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied curtly, frustrated and was five seconds away from throwing Tooru out of the window.

“And you were so shocked that you didn’t even say anything? And then you just stupidly thought she’d come around after that?”

He wanted to punch Tooru for that, but in the end, he just conceded with a defeated, “Yeah.”

Tooru exploded into another bout of obnoxious laughter. “Oh my Gods!” he wailed, “oh my Gods, Hajime, this is precious! I can’t believe it!” he dissolved into another giggle, as Hajime groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. He should have never asked Tooru, this just increased his blood pressure and made him consider murder.

Finally, though, Tooru took a pity on him, and said, “Iwa-chan, hana-chan is a simple girl, you know? She likes cute and cool things, she forgets anyone else is in the room when she talks to you, she cries eating your bentos, and she makes you handmade chocolate on valentine. You don’t need grand gestures, just give back what she gave to you—sincerity and clear affection.”

Hajime was stunned for a moment. He actually half-expected Tooru to joke about this and didn’t actually give a useful advice. But he was surprised yet again. He considered it for a moment, and Tooru left him to it after some more teasings.

Something simple, something she liked, and something he knew meant a lot to her. For the first time in weeks, Hajime might have a clue about what he should do. He just hoped that he was right, that it would be enough to win Akeno back.

It was almost six in the morning, and Hajime barely slept a wink last night. He stared at the ceiling in his room hard enough to make himself dizzy, as if he could drill a hole through it. After spending ungodly hours at the arcade yesterday, and quite possibly losing his pocket money for two weeks and several blood vessels from anger and frustration at the crane machine, he finally got the god forsaken thing that thought—wished—would help him and his ironically comedic, disastrous, wonderful crush on Akeno Hana.

He managed to sleep at ten, and then woke up at one am, thinking about ugly things that might transpire when he confessed. He tried to calm himself down, but the thoughts of what if she lost interest, what if she got heartbroken, what if she—kept him wide awake until 4 in the morning. Finally, the memories of spending time with her, the soft curve of her smile, the shine in her eyes when she talked about arts and her dream, the way she looked so sincere, so pretty on the day she confessed, calmed his nerves down. Enough to catch a little bit of sleep.

It didn’t last long, though. He was sleep deprived, was running on nervous energy, and his stomach felt like a knife had been twisted into it. When he finally couldn’t take it, he took his phone from the charging station, and, before he could lose the short burst of bravery, dialed Akeno’s numbers. He knew that girl had a habit of running late to school. This might the only time when she wouldn’t be aware enough to reject his call.

As he predicted, the call connected, and Akeno’s groggy voice greeted him from the other side. She sounded like a child abruptly woken up from a nap. It was cute, but Hajime wasn’t going to be distracted by cute things. Regardless if the said cute things came from the very person he liked. Whom he was going to confess to. Today. In just a moment. Oh Gods, he wanted to throw up.

Instead, he strengthened his resolve, and said, “Go get ready. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Akeno sounded more awake then, cautious. “But… why, senpai?”

Why indeed. But Hajime couldn’t just back off now. He didn’t want to. A month filled with uncertainty about their relationship and the abrupt absence of Akeno in his life, was enough to fill his courage. He didn’t want to go through that again. “I really need to see you, Akeno.”

There was a soft hitch of breath, and then Akeno’s trembling voice. “Y-yeah—uh, I mean, yes, I’ll get ready. Um, take care on your way here, senpai.”

Akeno was already waiting on the front porch when he got there. She looked nervous, but there was a hesitant happiness that peeked through her pale eyes. Her mom waved at him from the door jam, and he bowed, nervous and awkward all at once. They parted with a knowing look from her, and walked to the nearest bus stop that Akeno usually took.

They walked side by side in silence, the both of them too nervous to break the tension between them. It was as if they were waiting on the edge, and Hajime felt like throwing up again. Even playing in tournaments didn’t feel nerve-wracking, even if both the tournaments and Akeno Hana were just as important to him.

Akeno was the first to break the silence, however, by tripping on the side of the road, over nothing. Hajime’s quick reflexes prevented her from falling over and scraped her knees on the pavement, and she shot him a grateful smile. “Thank you, senpai.”

And maybe it was the familiarity, of holding her like this when she was about to fall, of the words he hadn’t heard in a month, of the smile he hadn’t seen much these days, that he just blurted out, “you’re so clumsy. If you got any clumsier than this, you might trip and lose your head, you know?”

Akeno, affronted, choked on air and replied, “Hey!”

He chuckled, and straightened her up. He started walking again, and Akeno followed his lead. Still looking ahead, he started pouring his heart out, so his gut could finally stop twisting, and his heart could finally calm itself down, and he could breathe once the truth was out.

“You’re so clumsy, and you easily got lost if someone didn’t hold your hand. You’re such a crybaby, and sometimes you’re either embarrassed too easily, or entirely too shameless. You look adorable either way.” Next to him, Akeno let out the trademark squeak of protest.

“You have no sense of personal space, and yet I like it when you’re close. Your eyes look the prettiest when you talk about your art; I just realized that you give your whole attention to me when I talk—and I like that as well. You always wake up late, you got these crazy eyes whenever you’re playing crane games, you cook well but you suck at making confectionaries. You are such a mess of genuine feeling and wonder, and I like you too much to even think about a proper confession.”

Next to him, Akeno had stopped walking completely, and instead was staring at him with wide, wide eyes. So he turned, and smiled, and said, “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure this out,” he pulled out the item from his pocket, and keeping his fist close around it, he offered it in front of her. “Happy white valentine,” he said. “I got this for you, and you better like it because I didn’t just spend my time torturing myself in that cursed machine, and not getting a wink of sleep because I was too nervous.”

“Too nervous for what?” Akeno finally spoke after being shocked still for so long.

“To ask you out, of course,” he said, and it felt so easy, sliding off his lips in light cadence. It felt alarmingly natural on his tongue, like it waited his whole life to reach this delicate springtime of life to finally say it. “Instead of, you know, running away after the confession.”

At that, Akeno finally snapped out of the trance and pouted at him. Even pouting like that she still looked unfairly cute. Hajime was indeed going insane. Simp, he faintly heard Tooru’s voice whispered viciously in his head, complete with the shit-eating grin.

“Hey! It’s not nice to embarrass people like that!” she yelled, high pitched and patting her cheeks to alleviate some heat. They looked appropriately reddened. “I was nervous, okay. You know I do stupid things when I’m nervous, senpai,” she whined, and he chuckled low.

He stepped closer to her, and slowly, carefully, brought his hands to where Akeno’s were and wrapped them around bunny plushy he had tried so hard to get, her soft smiles in mind every time he failed to get it. Hana’s eyes widened, pale irises recognizing the object in her hands immediately, and held back a sob as she realized that Hajime remembered. “So, how about it? Will you go out with me? I promise I’ll make you karaage any time you like, and I made really good confectionaries, and you can steal all my jackets as you like and we can get you all the bunny plushies in the world and—“

And Akeno was laughing, crying, taking the bunny plushy from his hands and rushed forward to envelope him in the tiniest, warmest hug he had ever received in his whole life. “Yes,” he heard her saying, then, more clearly than ever, like a ringing bell in the foggy morning, “yes, I’ll go out with you, Iwaizumi-senpai!”

And really, if people looked at them weird because they were hugging on the side of the road, crying and sniffling and giggling like middle school girls, Hajime could honestly give less than half a shit, because he was too busy wrapping his head around the unfathomable happiness that filled his heart to the brim. Oikawa was going to be insufferably smug, Hajime was too happy to even feel frustrated though.

Because they were shyly holding hands on their way to the bus stop, the bunny plushy safely strapped to Akeno’s bag, and her smile was bright enough to light the whole world. Hajime’s world, at least. And as he looked at her, smiling softly at the radiant joy on every line of her face, he felt his heart beat so loud he could hear it in his ears. Like his feelings and happiness and sheer force of affection for Hana was about to burst.

Like a soda pop.

#iwaizumi hajime #akeno hana #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x oc #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haha couple #iwaizumi fanart #iwaizumi fanfic

185 notes · View notes

dallonm-archive · 3 years

Photo

[image description: three monstera leaves. The leaves and wall are tinted purple by string lights behind the plant. In the middle, in a white serif font and all caps, reads “LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS”. At the bottom, in the same font but smaller, reads “update #1″ /end id]

LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS | UPDATE #1

Before I start, this is an autistic OwnVoices novel and it’s Autism Acceptance Month! Remember that awareness is passive and acceptance is active. And whilst this book is autistic OwnVoices I want to stress that it doesn’t cover the full autistic experience; autism is so individualistic and this story only stems from my experience. Make sure you to listen to all autistics, not just those who can speak and live independently and present in a way that suits neurotypical society. Support autistic creatives and if you’re also a creative, include autistic characters in your work! Autism is not a disease. It does not need to be cured.

Hey y’all! This has sure been a week! I gave myself the goal of 15,000 words for Camp Nano and somehow hit that in 5 days? I have literally never written at that pace before so I’m a little shocked lol. I don’t intend to keep that pace but the momentum has made drafting very fun and? drafting this has been a literal dream. I was really worried because March was a month long slump I expected to carry into April. I want to disclaim that I’m currently out of school and work because of the pandemic so I have all the free time to write and that definitely contributed! But also as a neurodivergent and disabled writer, free time does not always equal writing, so to know that I am capable of writing like this, even if not always, it is Such a gamechanger. Also this story makes me miss University so much I actually can’t take it :(

LCOMS has been a dream so far because the protagonists are all characters I’ve had for 5-8 years, and | spent those years struggling to figure out their stories. Even when I settled on this story, originally Patchwork, there was like 4 versions of it before I landed on this - none ever drafted beyond a couple thousand words because they just Never Worked. But the wait was worth it because holy shit I feel like I struck gold. This story feels so me, it’s so much fun to write, and I don’t think a story has come to me this easy before. It’s given me such a zest for storytelling again that I didn’t realise was missing. I’m slowing things down now because creative boundaries and self care >>>>, but I just passed 19k words - though some of the chapters are very unfinished because my priority has been mapping out the story’s skeleton as far as I can, then filling in the gaps based off what I learnt. I wanna put a passage before the cut so it’s not just me rambling about bullshit and no content, but it’s hard to pick just one, so here’s a non-linear scene that I :) cannot elaborate on :)

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: the side of a ferris wheel against black sky. The wheel is lit white, but at the bottom it’s coloured a mix of pink, blue and green. At the top, in a white serif font, reads “The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. “ /end id]

Picture this: December 17th. End of term. End of year. Cloudless night, stars winking. Fargate glows, market stalls lit by yellow fairy lights line the street like candle stubs, gently burning. It’s raining. It has all day. Dampened your new beanie and scarf but you’re not mad, even if you’ll cringe at the texture when you take them off later. The ferris wheel lights blur between turquoise, magenta, mint, lavender, casts the puddles into technicolour. Your eyes and feet ache, but you’re not mad. And the mulled wine that buzzed warm in your bloodstream now coils in your stomach, but you’re not mad. You’re queuing for the technicolour wheel, even though you know it’ll be underwhelming and a waste of £4, but you’re not mad. Chocolate is usually too sweet for you, but he bought a pack of snowflake shaped ones - each carved with their own design - and when he passes the paper bag over you don’t say no. They taste like raspberry. He grins at you.

I have once again written a long update because I am autistic and have no self control; more excerpts and chapter-by-chapter rambles are as usual under the cut!

(content warnings are specific to the respective excerpt, but as a general warning there’s a lot of alcohol mentions!)

Originally I wanted 3 parts for 3 semesters, but I might do 2? Especially because in the UK at least the spring and summer semester kinda blend into one. The chapters are grouped by 3 - one for every POV character - but that’s more to help with writing because I get more done if I break it down like that, but I also like how it’s shaped the story structurally.

Sometimes the three chapters will be each of the character’s POV on a single event, sometimes they’re more individual but still follow a general idea (for example, one of them is how each character’s first three weeks of the semester goes). As usual for me the plot here is ~non-existent, especially at this stage, but everything is still connected and threaded together and thats all we really need. The chapters are also pretty short at the moment, none of them are over 3k and only tackle 1-3 scenes. This is something I feel is working really nicely now but I’m not gonna commit to it for the entire novel. I like chapter length variety! But right now we are just going with the flow :)

The most unexpected part is this being in second person, which I decided impulsively the night before Nano because I have :) zero self control :). I was unsure if it’d work in Multi POV, but it’s created such a unique tone that I can’t imagine the story without anymore, even if it’ll need tweaking over drafts. I think it suits the story so well! I’m just torn about it being in past or present, so if you see tense jumps in the excerpts no you did not <3 I’m not naming chapters right now beyond the character’s name, but part one is titled Growing Pains.

[image description: photo of a city at night. To the left are skyscrapers with lots of lit up windows behind a chain-link fence. To the right is an unlit building. Near the middle is a bright streetlight. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “growing pains”. /end id]

1: Tomas

We start in the most overrated part of Uni, fresher’s week <3 The drinking and clubbing culture of UK university is a big part of this novel but in a way that’s like “hey this can be fun sometimes but sometimes it’s really not and it’s also really not for everyone.” Our three POVs go to a club night and really don’t care for it. Tomas does not want to be here, is in a weird as shit mood, and instead of looking for his friends he goes to the smoking area with a man he just met called Damiano. I really wanna rewrite this because I wrote it with Zero Idea of where the story was going, so here’s the one part of it that I consider salvageable <3

Damiano shoves his phone in your hands, brightness puncturing darkness. You hadn’t noticed the dimmed lights until then, but the room blued, music and time slowed. Though his notes are on dark mode, his phone brightness is on two fucking high. Your eyes sting. Cracks travel up the screen like veins.

Each character also has a specific image they keep seeing in things that are never actually there and they all make me like 🤠 hey besties what do these mean are you okay?? I Do Not know what they mean yet, but Tomas’ is veins. (Also shout out to me for finally settling on a spelling for his name after 5 years and by that I mean thank you to my friends for peer pressuring me into choosing Tomas lol)

My absolute favourite part of this story is the character voices. They are all SO fun to write, and I feel like I settled into a good combo of My Literary Prose Bullshit and they’re very specific, often very sarcastic voices. They also say fuck like, so many fucking times. RIP to me if I decide to query this <3

2: Kristen

Okay first off Kristen is THE funniest character I’ve written. He is SO fun. I wish I was his bestie but he’s also been my bestie since 2013. We meet him in the gender neutral bathrooms being annoyed by a very rich and very tone deaf girl. Classism and the UK class divide is one of the biggest themes of this novel, and Kristen is a very proud working class Northerner (the North is massively underfunded and unsupported by the Gov compared to the South) and cannot stand the Tories (Conservative Party). Extremely fucking valid of him

(CW: blood)

“I’m Floss. Florence.” Of course she was. Fucking Florence. “Where are you from?”

You don’t look at her. Eyes on your reflection, the glittered cheekbones. You busy yourself with your eyeliner, gliding the pen over gaps and smudges that don’t exist. “Barnsley, babe.” It’s only a half lie this time - if you tell her you were born in Liverpool she’d probably look at you like you’re a dead rat on the side of a dodgy alleyway. But maybe that’d be better because then she’d leave you the fuck alone.

“Oh! That’s like well close isn’t it. I’m from Reigate.” Her voice breathes trust fund and Waitrose, tries to speak like it doesn’t. You try not to laugh.

“Reigate! I bet your parents are right little Tories, aren’t they?”

She playfully slapped your shoulder. She thinks you’re friends. "Not every rich person is a Tory!” Don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes don’t roll your eyes. “Is that blood on your hands?”

“Huh?” You look: faded red dye dried to your palm, blotted on your fingertips. It is dye, because your hair is as of four hours ago a fierce “Real Red”. But it could be blood. “No, it’s hair dye.”

If you think he’s being harsh, she literally calls him a slur like 3 lines after this <3 Fuck rich people half of this book is me clowning on them.

Kristen’s recurring Imagery is blood, except sometimes it’s less clear if it’s actually blood or not. Once again, besties are you okay ????

3: Junie

Junie my beloved <3 love her so much. She finds Kristen in the bathroom, and they agree to look for Tomas, until Tomas texts to say he already left. But the biggest part of this chapter is the absolute crisis she has over kissing for a girl for the first time to ABBA :)

(CW: alcohol)

[image description: a disco ball against a red-purple background. The disco ball casts dots of light against the across the ceiling. At the bottom, in a white serif font, reads: “Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass.” /end id]

You don’t listen to 80s music, or 70s, but this room is smaller than the main floor, not claustrophobic, less freshers. Yet, even without the mask of a crowd, nobody notices the girl in the corner kissing the other girl. A girl you don’t know. You’d only gone up to her because she has purple hair and you had to tell her how much you love it - what dye is it? Professional or homemade? Did you have to bleach your hair? Professional or homemade? Will your hair fall out if you bleach it at home? If you dye your hair purple, do you become part of the Milky Way or part of Andromeda? She turns and sticks her tongue out to display her fresh tongue piercing, like a silver bullet lodged in flesh. “Dance with me, you look lost.” She has an allure to her, the Andromeda hair, the bullet in the tongue - do you want to pull it out with your teeth, or lodge it in your own skin? But she asks you to dance, and you fall into her orbit, if only for a few songs. Dancing Queen bounces against the walls. The disco ball casts specks over the ceiling, floor, walls, your skin, hair, eyes like broken glass. Her tongue in your mouth, yours in hers, bullet grazing against your lips. She tastes of vodka and cherries and metal.

I really, really feel for Junie. She’s recently out, and she’s only just navigating what it means to exist as a lesbian. She kisses a girl and immediately regrets it, because she’s a hopeless romantic and was hoping her first kiss with a girl wouldn’t be in the back of a club, but she also doesn’t regret it because it was a good kiss and they’ll never see each other again lol. Junie’s recurring imagery is glass and once again, besties are you okay

4: Junie

I don’t know how I feel about back to back POV chapters but that’s just how this set worked. The next 3 are immediately after the events of the first 3, after they’ve all left the club. Kristen and Junie walk home together, and most of this and his subsequent chapter is establishing relationship dynamics and <3 this story made me love writing dialogue y’all. This story has a lot of dark elements, so it’s really refreshing to be able to have the light-hearted moments as well. Like these characters are all going through it but they’re also Gen Z 20 year olds who grew up using humour to cope like what else are they meant to do

“We should’ve got that flat on Brunswick. It’s literally down the street from the SU - we’d just have to walk down a hill and then we’d be home.” He complains.

“Kristen, that flat had a rat problem. I saw one scurrying behind the oven.”

“Yeah, and we live with Tomas Meijer now, so what’s the difference?” He faces you, walks backwards, grin plastered on his face.

“That was mean.” You feign annoyance. You sound like a schoolteacher.

“It’s just how we are, you know. The love hate relationship. Like night and day or some shit. I’d kill for that boy but like, he’s still a rat. He’s the same to me - did he tell you he called me a malnourished ferret once in first year? In English and Dutch. Don’t even remember what it is in Dutch but he really came at me with two knives like that.”

Kristen and Junie don’t really know each other well - Junie is Tomas’ friend from class and Kristen and Tomas met in dorms, and a series of shitty housemates in second year brought them all together. It’s funny because I really worried Junie would end up with no clear place in the group and more like a third wheel to Kristen and Tomas but as I started writing I realised that her and Kristen are gonna become besties like. Instantaneously. Love this for them <3

5: Kristen

Essentially mirrors the last chapter. Him and Junie arrive home and have a heart to heart in the living room about gender <3 I love this for them <3

6: Tomas

Tomas goes home with Damiano and they hook up, which is very out of character for Tomas so it’s like his I Am So Random. I Can’t Believe I Just Did That moment. Damiano is a really sweet dude though it’s all good, but he’s here to stay and I can just tell it’s gonna get messy :/ I actually really love how this chapter came out but whilst I have no problem with reading or writing non-explicit sex scenes I’m also like a would rather die than put that on tumblr dot com oops

7: Kristen

we’ve skipped a week ahead to the day before semester starts, and the next three chapters are basically like a character study of where each of them are mentally. It’s not the best :/ This is also the point where Day 1 Of Camp me had literally no idea what I was doing. LCOMS is different from the way I pants Revelations, Revelations because with the latter I find it much easier to brainstorm scenes in my head but with this one, it really is a surprise until I open the doc. It’s created some really interesting moments though.

Kristen visits an amateur photographer friend named Kasia to model for her. I struggled to find anything that included info I’m fine with sharing, but I learnt a LOT about Kristen and his mental state, which was surprising since he’s lived in my head rent free for 8 years now. It’s messy <3 The summary: he sees himself as a mannequin, and he decides that he likes it that way, but he also doesn’t know who’s moving his joints into poses. Bestie???

8: Junie

Junie unpacks her room a week after moving in. Autistic queen <3 This is one of the unfinished chapters, and I have zero motivation to finish it because there’s a scene missing and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. The gist of it though is she FaceTimes a friend from secondary school that definitely was her gay awakening that she only realised was her gay awakening in the last year. Messy <3

9: Tomas

One of my favourite chapters. It’s split into two halves, a light-hearted moment of all three housemates at a superstore because <3 grocery store scenes my beloved <3 and then Tomas’ Everything Is Bad exploration at the end. There’s a moment in the first half where Tomas and Kristen have a heart to heart in the candle aisle, and Tomas asks Kristen where he thinks they’ll be in their thirties. I winged this in a sprint and I’m obsessed with it, it’s all about the ~dynamic~

“Well, he has student debt for one. But that’s not on him. That’s on the Tories. But I like to think they’ll be out of power by then. Boris might even be dead, if we’re lucky. But again, not on me.” He’s quiet again. You watch him think. “He’d be a music teacher probably, or an English teacher. But like, a cool one. He doesn’t teach secondary school because he doesn’t hate himself. Maybe a Sixth Form, or even better a Uni. His students would love him because he’d be able to take a joke and also like, not hound on them for having mental illnesses or life struggles?” Neither of you look at the aisles anymore, just circle the home section of Big Tesco. “He’d also do a lot of charity work. He has a foundation-charity-thing for queer and autistic kids to get accessible music lessons, because creative therapy is like, the best thing - besides Prozac but I digress - and it’d be better than the old white men from CAMHs who act like you don’t exist by your eighteenth birthday. And he’d have a cool little flat in Sheffield where the landlord lets him paint the walls so every room is a different colour. Turquoise kitchen. Magenta Living room. Lavender bedroom. Mint bathroom.” He looks at you like he forgot you were there. “You really let me ramble like that in the middle of Big Tesco, huh? That felt like a fucking therapy moment.” He laughs a little, like he’s nervous.

“Nah, it was a good answer. Maybe if Tomas-in-his-thirties doesn’t move back to the Netherlands, he’ll rent the apartment next to Kristen-in-his-thirties.”

Kristen pouts. “Aw, you don’t wanna be my roomie anymore?”

“No, you called me an animal for eating pineapple on pizza.”

“Deserved. And you called me a malnourished ferret.”

You smile. “You’re not gonna let that down, are you?”

He smiles. “Of course not.”

Kristen tells Tomas he knows Something Happened to him over summer, and gets him to promise to tell him when he’s ready. The second half of the chapter takes place back at the house. Tomas is grieving, and it’s starting to creep into all elements of his thought. In this one specifically, he’s reminded of his top surgery and his memories in the hospital for that starts to blend with his memory of being in the hospital to grieve. Tomas is interesting as trans rep because like, he is trans rep curated for me specifically <3 Tomas was a huge comfort character for me when I was younger and when I realised I was trans, I looked at him and was like oh. He had a very smooth coming out and transitioning process (bc mine is the opposite and I need to project :) ), but right now he views his transness as like, a chapter of his life that was important but is now closed, so he doesn’t think about it a lot anymore, but the combo of grief and its mental impacts causes him to think about it more and he realises he has a very unhealthy internal relationship with his transness. Whilst the big idea at the start of Tomas’ arc is to show trans peace, I really wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the grieving process that comes with being trans. Literally the moment that made me realise “oh god, this is real and I can’t ignore it” was googling “im scared i might be trans” and realising how normal those tangled feelings are. Tomas’ experience of it is only fleeting, but I wanted to show that it’s normal. That being said, there’s no transphobia in this story. It is ultimately a Trans Peace story but also a trans story that, for me at least, is realistic. And the thoughts don’t last long, because his mind circles back to the grieving process.

(CW: graphic surgery and hospital imagery, vomit mention, death)

[image description: a darkened picture of an empty hospital room. The only light comes in through the window through thin white curtains. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “ Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy? “ /end id]

Picture this: The hospital room. Clinical lights like exit wounds in the ceiling. Everything hurts. Haven’t slept properly in weeks. Can barely eat without it coiling and tangling in your stomach only for nothing to come up when you heave over the toilet. Messy hair, sunken eye bags. Dull eyes. The hospital room. The hospital halls. The hospital waiting room. The hospital car park. The drive to the hospital. The sleepless night before the hospital visit. The locked in the armchair next to the phone waiting for the hospital to call. The silence shrills harsher than the phone’s ring. But ask yourself this: who’s in the bed? You or him? The memories are different but the same. Oil and water. Shouldn’t be mixed. But it’s hard not to. Picture the two of you on the operating table and on the metal slab. Too far from reality to feel skin slice. Scalpel gliding across the chest; were the cuts they made as thin as the line between surgery and autopsy?

There’s a lot of paragraphs in the story that start with Picture This:. I have no idea what it means, it just reads cool lmao

10: Junie

we skip around 3 weeks now to see how the kids are dealing with the start of semester and well. They’re managing! Junie actually has a good chapter here, because she experiences Baby’s First Queer Class Crush

[image description: a purple sunset with a large pink cloud. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you “ /end id]

You listen, touch type your notes without properly processing the words yet, but instead of studying the PowerPoint, you study her: how she tucks a strand of black hair - free from her messy bun - behind her ear. The three studs in her earlobe, three little gold stars. The way her eyebrows furrow when she’s confused, and the way her face relaxes when she figures it out. How she touch types like you, how her two brass bracelets jangle and how you’re the only one that hears it. She minimises Word briefly, and you notice her background is of a purple sunset. You wonder if purple is her favourite colour like you and if she took it and if she likes photography and if she’d take photos of you. Lavender polo shirt, lavender perfume. She doesn’t wear make-up, but a tiny black heart sits under left eye.

Junie’s dreams of a photographer girlfriend are quickly shattered when she admits the photo’s from Pinterest, but otherwise this is so <3 the sapphic crisis of it all.

You walk out together, and she tells you she only got into Sheffield that weekend, and it was a nightmare to explain to the tutors why. “It’s like, they forget we have lives sometimes. Lives we can’t control.” She shakes her head. “It’s okay now though, I’m here now.”

You almost trip on the stairs up to the main floor, and her hand is warm against your wrist. Your cheeks redden, but she just asks if you’re okay, smiles when you are. Tells you she’s late for a seminar, but it was lovely to meet you. Thanks again for the lecture notes. Calls you a lifesaver. Fades into the between-classes rush. You’re glad she’s here now.

again she is so <3 i get it babes i get it <3

In other news, at the end of the chapter Kristen drops the most relatable line of the entire fucking book:

“You know how like, when it rains, all the worms come out and do a funky little dance? Yeah so basically: the rain is LIT3001 right. And the worms are all of my mental illnesses.”

11: Tomas

Tomas turns 21 on October 13th so naturally like anyone in his early 20s he has multiple crisis’ about it. I still haven’t figured this chapter ~out yet but it sure exists! It just sucks the same way it sucks to be a young adult in the late 2010s. But here’s Kristen being the most relatable character in the book again and getting bullied for it :/

(CW: alcohol)

"I still can't believe you both do a science. Like, it actually baffles me - I could not be more further from that." Kristen refills his glass, measures the vodka level with his index. "Just a babe and his silly little BA against the world."

"You know if you wanna be a BA babe you have to actually, like, graduate."

12: Kristen

Kristen is personally like I will pretend my degree does not exist and honestly? I get it King. He visits his Dad, since he only lives 30 minutes away, but most of the chapter is him thinking about Tomas and their messy friendship and the fact that Tomas is kinda ghosting him despite literally living together :/ Anyway here’s Kristen’s cat :)

Mar snoozes on your pillow, half curled like a croissant. Orange fluff against grey sheets, and you’re not mad at the fur debris she’ll inevitably leave. Her head pops up when you sit next to her, “you forget about me yet?”. You scratch her head and it’s like you’re 12 again and you don’t have to worry about rent or degrees or masters applications or careers or groceries or housemates and you haze through Sundays snoozing in bed with your new kitten. Technically she was a birthday present, but dad couldn’t wait an extra month to adopt her. Said he saw it in her eyes at the shelter, that she belonged here. You named her Marmalade because you were a dumbass eleven year old and also thought marmalade was the shit back then. She stretches her legs and yawns. Plops her head back down, back to sleep. “Yeah, me too.”

13: Tomas

The next three chapters centre around each character’s Halloween, because <3 Halloween my beloved <3. Tomas’ starts off with him and Kristen being ~homoerotic and him being a ~disaster about it.

w[image description: a photo of a blue planet - Neptune - against a black background. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air.” /end id]

When you sit in front of him, your knees press together. When he tilts your head up, thumb on chin, nail grazing the curve of your lip, his hand is ice on your skin. He studies your face, you close your eyes. When he pulls back, you swear you still feel his thumbprint on your skin. You don’t know which palette he’s using, but you remember his favourite is space themed: Mars red, Neptune blue, Jupiter orange - you try to guess which planet he thinks looks best against olive. He taps the brush against the palette. Imagine the planets. How they dandelion in the air. He holds your head in place, hand sprawls over you cheek like veins. Brushes colour into your eye socket. Underneath the radiator, your phone buzzes twice. Don’t say anything. Ignore your heartbeat.

(before this Tomas threw his phone at the radiator because someone texted him :) yeah okay mood :) )

this story is really about the ~gay disasters and also the ~dialogue

You flop onto your bed, arms crossed over your face. “I dunno. I might just print off all the emails Uni's sent me about my dissertation. Staple them to a jacket and tell people I'm going as mental illness."

"Tomas, if you want to go as mental illness then you don't need a costume at all."

Unfortunately the rest of the chapter is not as fun because plot had to happen but this first scene was :)

14: Junie

Junie is not a fan of Halloween so she gives up halfway through the night and invites the girl she met in her lecture over to bake cookies at 1am instead. Fellas is this gay?

(CW: alcohol)

The girl in the kitchen brought cookie cutters in pink Tupperware. She explains she’s had them since she was eight, but she hasn’t had a chance to use them this Autumn. She has seven: cat, butterfly, crescent moon, heart, three stars matryoshka’d together. “I have more, these are just my go to ones. I’m a bit of a collector.” She lines them up on the counter, you trace the outline of the cat. She says she didn’t want to bring too many, but she likes having the options with no plan, the potential. You want to tell her that, after you invited her over, you spritzed the counters with lavender surface cleaner twice and tucked the discarded vodka and raspberry liqueur bottles in the cabinet you can barely reach. You piled unfolded laundry into your closet and hid drooping plants behind your closed curtains when you had zero intention of her inviting her to your room. You want to ask her why she said yes, why she replied in two minutes at one in the morning, and you want to ask her why people feel the need to cookie cutter themselves into a false potential. She asks if you want to bake with coconut or chocolate chip.

she is actually such a disaster around girls i love her so much

The girl in your kitchen clears up glass that isn’t hers. You drop the measuring jug and it fireworks against tile. No shards lodge in your skin. Whilst she cleans, insists that it’s okay, you brew peppermint tea because you insist it’s the least you can do. The girl tells you a story about how she did the exact same thing, when she was nine, and her mother shrieked so loud the neighbours banged at the door a minute later. She laughs, muted. You apologise again. She insists it’s okay again. Rain hardens against the window, looks like TV static. You breathe in the peppermint steam.

The biggest thing I’ve learnt since drafting is that, at it’s core, this is a love story. And that makes me so excited because so many people, especially in mainstream media, still think that autistic people are incapable of love - or even worse, undeserving.

15: Kristen

Kristen’s favourite holiday is Halloween so naturally on his special day I had to make him go through it :) I can’t share a lot of this, but it feels right to end this beast of an update on this beast of an excerpt because it came to me out of absolutely nowhere and it is one of my favourite passages I’ve ever written OOPS

(CW: death, parental death)

[image description: a cluster of stars against a dark blue, almost black sky. In the middle, in a white serif font, reads “You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.“ /end id]

You’ve mapped Sheffield’s streets since 13 so you know you’re walking the wrong way. This isn’t the way to Crookes. This isn’t the way out the city centre. You should order an Uber. You keep walking. You stop at a crossing. There’s no cars. You don’t cross. The traffic light flashes red and bleeds on your face. The stars are out tonight, and now it’s 2004 and you’re in the lounge with Lion King in the VHS. You’re off sick and your neighbour - Mel, recently retired, recently widowed - nurses a glass of brandy in your dad’s armchair because you don’t know it yet, but he can’t afford to miss work. You’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug when Simba and Mufasa sprawl in the grass and Mufasa tells Simba that all the stars are the Kings of the past and they are watching over him. You ask recently retired, recently widowed Mel if that’s true; her smile is happy but her eyes are sad and she says “yes, and not just Kings. Nobody leaves Earth, they just move to the stars.”

Ten minutes later, Mufasa is flung off a gorge’s edge; you haven’t studied storytelling yet, but you understand those two moments are connected. And when you relay this to dad over ready made pasta that evening, you ask him if people really live in the stars: Sometimes, when they can’t live here anymore. Then you ask if they can come back from the stars: No, but people remember them. They’ll tell stories about them, so people don’t forget. Then you ask if memories and stories are like stars: A little. Then you ask why they can’t live here anymore: It’s hard to explain, Kris.

After dinner, he lets you play on the plastic slide in the garden as he scrubs the dishes. You climb to the top and try to see faces in the stars, but it’s too cloudy. And after that but before bedtime, you’re sprawled on the dusty-red rug again, and Lion King is in the VHS again, and as Simba and Nala are bathed by their mothers again, your five year old mind connects what’s different about you. You go to ask dad about it, but he’s asleep in his armchair. It’s 2018, you’re stood on a phantom street in Sheffield. You want to ask your dad how something can end if for you it never began, but he’s asleep in his armchair back home. You look at the stars. You wonder if any of them are her.

And I usually don’t do this, but I think the playlist for this wip is absolutely fucking elite, so here’s a handful of the songs that I think encapsulate the story the best:

The Wombats – Greek Tragedy

Duncan Laurence – Arcade

FKA Twigs – Two Weeks

Peach Pit – Alrighty Aphrodite

Khalid – Saturday Nights

Alfie Templeman – Stop Thinking (About Me)

Rina Sawayama – 10-20-40

If you read this far, then I love you and we shall have a platonic wedding this summer. But I cannot express how excited I am about this story and to see where it goes!

#atlastracking #LCOMS #writing update #amwriting #seriously though i have had the best week but also my brain? a fried egg #sfoidhfsdf even before the cut this post is long i hate it here #long post

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airi-p4 · 3 years

Text

Miraculous escape - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

I wasn’t planning to post this yet, but it’s Lukadrien June and today prompt is ‘escape’ and, even if it’s only Lukadrien friendship (bc it’s Lukanette & Adrigami endgame), it fit so well that I couldn’t stop myself from posting this. Chapter 1 and the final chapter have been finished for months, but I don’t know when I’m going to continue with the rest...

This fic is based / inspired by Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Some like it hot’ film.

Thank you @alittleshycat for the header and wanted posters pic! ( I hope you’re doing well... I miss you... 🥺💙 )

Thank you @brickercupmasterx3 for proofreading! 💙

Summary:

Luka helps Adrien escape from his prison-like house and his strict father but Gabriel Agreste is not planning to let them go away easily. They become fugitives and ask Juleka for help, who offers them a very unconventional escape plan: joining a girl band/orchestra to flee the country.

Easier said than done, especially when they find something unexpected in that band: the two most beautiful women they've ever seen.

Warning: includes art

AO3

_________________________

Chapter 1: Fugitives

"My father is going to kill me."

"Your father is going to kill us."

One carrying a guitar on his back, and the other a piano keyboard case on his hand, two musicians were being chased by multiple cars around Paris. Turning corners, going up and downstairs, hiding behind trash containers and cars, the chase seemed far from an end anytime soon. Panting for air, the pair continued running after they turned the corner, just in time not to be seen- a close call. The loud sirens never seemed to stop, coming from all directions.

"I can't believe I finally escaped from home!", the young blond man exclaimed excitedly. "Thanks, Luka. I wouldn't have made it without your help. You're a real friend."

"Don't mention it, Adrien. That's what friends are for, right?", the blue haired man laughed and patted his back. "It would have been perfect if we hadn't broken half of your father's statue collection while escaping your bodyguards, though. Now he's gonna kill us for sure. We can't let them catch us!"

"We need to run away from Paris. And fast! My father is the devil itself! You don't want to know..."

"I don't!"

Jumping down a wall, and turning another corner, the two friends hid in the back of a funeral car and waited until the police sirens got further away. They had been scolded for being disrespectful with the dead, but it was worth it: they were safe- at least for now.

"We need to leave the city and find a place to stay. Knowing your father, he must have all stations, roads and airports under his control." Luka said, stopping Adrien from crossing the street to firstly check their surroundings.

"How are we going to do it? Our car became 'inoperative' during the chase and our friends and family must be monitored!"

Adrien's panic made Luka grab his shoulders to reassure him of their plans.

"No, look. They know you, but they don't know much about me. Not many people know I have a sister who lives here, in Paris."

"You do?"

"Yes. We need to make it to her apartment and then we’ll figure out how to proceed. Are you ready to run again?"

"More than ready. I'm excited!" Adrien grinned back at Luka, feeling an adrenaline rush.

"Let's go!"

__________________

When Juleka opened the door of her apartment, she wasn't expecting to meet her dumbass older brother and Adrien Agreste, the young man who had been on the news non-stop for the last two hours. She raised one eyebrow and Luka knew she was looking for a reason not to shut the door on their faces.

"Juleka! We need your help! We have to get out of the city. Could you lend us your car?"

"What the heck is wrong with you!? It's been two years and that's all you have to say? What kind of trouble are you involved in now? This flower boy has been in the news for hours! They are even offering a reward for whoever finds him! And one for you! A dead or alive one in your case! They're saying you kidnapped him! So you better have a good explanation or I'm kicking you out."

"I do, I do! Listen: remember dad? I know you were little, but do you remember what being trapped is? That's this man's, Adrien's, everyday life for you. I couldn't bear to see my friend like that anymore so I offered to help him escape" Juleka's eyebrow sank deeper towards her nose, meaning Luka knew that wasn't good news. "I had to help him get his freedom! Can you believe he has never had a burger? Or been to a drive through? He can't even drive a car! He literally crashed my car at a streetlight after mistaking the gas and brake pedals! Have some compassion and help us escape Paris. Please?" he finished, pleadingly.

Juleka's eyes moved to analyze Adrien before answering: blond rich guy, well dressed and innocent looking. The way he was trying to figure out her front door and how his green eyes curiously examined his surroundings made him look like a playful cat, and Juleka had no doubt that he was as dumb, or probably dumber, than her older brother. Which meant Jukeka wanted them out, but also that she couldn't refuse to help- otherwise they would surely not make it out alive.

"Fine. What do you need?" She resigned.

"A car or anything that takes us away from Paris! No, better! Out of the country!"

Adrien was still examining Juleka's old and untidy room when she noticed his eyes paused on a paper on the table. She knew that paper: a girl band/orchestra called "Miraculous" was looking to recruit experienced musicians to perform around Italy for three weeks. Suddenly, she knew what to do.

"Join that girl band, the one in the pamphlet", Juleka suggested, pointing at said paper.

"What? A girl band? We're men, Jules! We can't join a girl band!"

"Luka is right!" Adrien quickly agreed.

"No, it can be done. I'm good with makeup and I'm tall enough for my clothes to fit Adrien. We can use some of Mom's clothes for you. ‘Old style’. Oh, and I have some wigs too.” Juleka continued. "Can this blondie play any instrument?"

"Well, yes. He's a pianist," Luka answered.

"Perfect! I'll find a way for you to cover for the pianist and the guitarist of the band: Chloe and Lila. Nobody likes them anyway, and the band members probably don't even remember their faces well, since they joined recently. Nobody will miss them. And it's perfect that you're blond, just like Chloe. I have the perfect wig for you"

Juleka disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a pair of scissors, two wigs and a box of makeup- oh, and wax. The two male friends could feel cold sweat down their backs.

"Wow, you have such a pretty face!" Juleka exclaimed, taking a closer look at Adrien's facial features. "I'll cut your bangs a bit so they don't show under your wig. Luka: do yourself a favor and go shave meanwhile."

"Are you serious about this, Jules?" Luka asked, moving towards the bathroom sink.

"Of course I am", she glared confidently at him. "Do you want to flee the country or not? I'm getting you out, but you need to trust me."

"Is this really necessary…?" Adrien asked in a trembling voice, seeing how Juleka's scissors were close to his eyes as she was cutting his long bangs.

"It definitely is! The band orchestra is leaving midday tomorrow and we have a lot to do!" Juleka ordered. "I can't wait to wax those hairy legs of yours" she murmured. Adrien could only gasp in fear.

When Juleka finished, she was proud of her results. The disguises were perfect: a long blond wig on Adrien, tied as a long braid, his big green eyes standing out with the mascara on his lashes, and he had pink colored cheeks and cherry lips. His face and hair were perfectly complemented by a white dress to his knees and a short jacket over his shoulders, covering his strong forearms. He also used some pads to simulate not very large breasts. The final touch was a pair of elegant high-heels with diamond looking glass studs on them. He looked beautiful, prettier than many women. So pretty the Couffaine siblings blushed a little at the sight.

As for Luka… well, he was tall, big and manly, and with sharp features: definitely not easy to pass him as a woman. But Juleka was almost a professional and she did an incredible job. He had his hair cut short so his blue hair didn't show under the long dark haired wig - good for covering his wide muscular back. He was advised to wear a hat and sunglasses most of the time, but he was also wearing lots of makeup. Using a full palette of skin tones, Juleka managed to hide his strong jawline and make his cheekbones, chin and nose look smaller and rounder. He wore black eyeshadow and mascara, brownish red lipstick and natural blush. He looked like an unfeminine lady but that could pass as genetics, right? People would maybe look away, but they would understand. As for his clothes: he wore a long wide purple dress tied with a belt and some brown pirate-like high boots (the only ones that would fit him because they belonged to himself). The bottom half of his outfit was complemented by a grey knit poncho. His fake breasts were bigger than Adrien's and he wore a wine red scarf to cover his neck- especially his pronounced adam's apple. He looked… pretty good, considering the base product. And that alone was an amazing accomplishment.

"You're perfect. Ready to go. I've packed a pair of party dresses too. You'll need them for your performances" Juleka said, admiring her amazing work. "Oh, and just so you know. I'm also part of the band, so I'm coming too."

Later that night, just before sunrise, Juleka sneaked to Chloe and Lila's apartment to steal their accreditations and sent them fake cards about the train being delayed so they wouldn't appear at the last moment and ruin everything. Juleka smirked victoriously for having at last taken her revenge on the two women she hated the most.

___________________________________________

After nervously passing the first frontier of the train station- the ticket man, Luka and Adrien, who were disguised as women, moved towards the platform, happy for not having been recognized after the first control. Adrien had trouble walking in heels, so Luka lent him his arm to help him keep his balance.

"Remember: your name is Chloe now, and my name is Lila", Luka reminded his friend as they walked towards the train platform.

"I don't like those names", Adrien complained.

"I don't like them either, but it’s better that we don't stand out". Luka sighed.

Grabbing their baggage and instruments, the two men approached the train car written on the ticket. They were stopped before they could get on the train- just next to one of their 'wanted' posters. The two men didn't notice it, but Juleka did and rushed them to get on the train fast.

"Hey, who are you?" Asked a middle aged woman, the one in charge of the band, they assumed. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"I- I'm Adri- My name is Noirette”, Adrien said, receiving equally surprised and annoyed glares from both Luka and Juleka. Before Luka could speak, Adrien continued. “And she's Lucia. We're the new pianist and guitarist of the band".

‘What. the. heck?’ Luka couldn’t believe his friend as he stared at him in annoyance and shock. His high pitched voice acting was hurting Luka's ears too. 'We're dead', he thought.

The middle aged woman showed orchestra at Adrien’s words: she clearly didn’t like last minute changes. Scanning them under her glasses, she questioned them again. "What happened to Miss Chloe Bourgeois and Miss Lila Rossi?"

While the two men were taking too much to come up with an excuse, Juleka, who was sick of their bad acting, stepped into the conversation.

"The talent agency sent them somewhere else. These two are here to fill in for them."

Still unconvinced, she raised her glasses. "Hmmm... you know them, Juleka?"

"They come from the same talent agency as me", Luka’s sister confidently said.

"Hmmm... that should be enough then..." It seemed like she was convinced at last and the two men could finally breathe. “I'm the band's director. You can call me Madam Mendeleiev. And that man over there is Mister Damocles, the manager. You can introduce yourselves later. Go to your seats now.” Before they could take a first step, the middle aged woman stopped them again and called for someone. "Yves! Come here and carry these ladies’ instruments to the train! Be useful for once!"

Luka and Adrien exchanged looks when a young blond man approached them quickly. "Yes, Madam!" He shouted, approaching the disguised men to get their instruments. He stopped in front of them, intensely staring at Luka’s pupils before trying to complete his job.

"Oh. Hello, there. XY at your service! Can I help you, beautiful? Fancy a drink sometime?" He raised his eyebrows twice, shamelessly flirting.

Luka's face went white in disgust. Juleka's chuckle and Adrien's big eyes made him snap out of it.

"Oh, Just carry this, thank you!" Luka answered, annoyed, as he shoved his and Adrien’s instruments and suitcases into XY’s arms, making the blond man lose balance from the pile of weight on his arms. “And take good care of them because they’re… fragile”

"A- As you wish, beauti- Ah!…" He stumbled, losing his balance and almost falling down. “But later that drink-”

"Yves!! Stop the crap and do your job!" Mendeleiev scolded him.

"Yes, Madam!" He straightened his back. "See you around", he winked at Luka before leaving, having trouble walking properly. The guitarist could feel shivers all over his body, while Juleka snorted, having real trouble trying to hold her laugh in.

"C'mon, hurry up!" Juleka pressured them, adding in a whisper "you better not expose yourselves before leaving."

"Thank you for saving us, Juleka." Luka whispered to her ear while getting on the train.

"You better stop acting stupid if you don't want to get caught!" Her response showed her annoyance and the men gulped in response.

The seats were arranged in pairs, so the two fugitives could sit together and relax a bit. They were also grateful for the lack of contact needed with the rest of the band.

The ‘Miraculous band’ was a dancing orchestra. Similar to a big band, but with vocals, a spectacular stage and completely fine for all ages to enjoy. In this case, its main particularity was how it was formed only by women. The band formation included: a rhythmic section (electric bass, electric guitar, drums and electronic piano), a wind section (saxophones, trumpets and trombones) and two singers. Many of the members were usually multi-disciplined in those bands, which meant they could play more than one instrument, just like Luka with the Lyre. Some of the side instruments were the violin, the flute, the maracas or the tambourine. Another particularity of these kinds of bands was the big range of styles in their repertoire: from rock and popular national or international hits to swings, waltz, salsa- anything that could be danced to.

If it weren't for the all girls' rule, Adrien and Luka wouldn't have minded joining them for real. But they had something more important to think about now- running for their lives.

"Is everyone here?", Mendeleiev asked, standing at the train car passage.

"Marinette and Kagami are not here yet, Madam" A dark skinned, red haired lady pointed out.

"Those two again… if they weren't so talented and popular I would have fired them already!"

"There they come!' A small blond short-haired lady screamed, startling Juleka in the process. "Sorry! I didn't want to startle you. My name is Rose" she introduced herself.

"Juleka…" and that's all she could say as she lost herself in that petit woman's eyes.

"What do you play?", the little woman innocently asked. "I play the trombone!"

"The electric bass…" she answered, hiding her blush. ‘Cute, sweet and with lungs of steel?’ Juleka gulped. ‘I’m screwed’.

"Finally!" Madam Mendeleiev said, as the ladies arrived, panting from their run there. "You're late! Go to your seats quickly!"

The two ladies who got in the train, bowed their heads in apology for their tardiness, as they walked to the empty seats of the back of the car. And when their faces looked up for a moment, it was the exact moment Adrien and Luka reached heaven. Their eyes couldn't stop staring at the most beautiful ladies they had ever seen, following them with their eyes and faces as they passed just beside them, moving to sit a few rows to the back. They couldn't take their eyes off them until Juleka called for their attention, warning for their discretion. But it was too late: the boys had lovestruck grins on their faces that didn't plan to go away anytime soon.

The two ladies had black hair and asian features. The short haired one was taller, had brown eyes and wore a beautiful white blazer with a red skirt. She looked elegant and confident, while the other woman looked cute, clumsy and innocent, and was shorter. She had blue eyes and dressed in a pink coat. Her hair was long and tied in two curly twin-tails. Their beauty stood out even more when they were together.

When the train started moving, Madam Mendeleiev gave the girl band some instructions- something Luka and Adrien would ask Juleka what it was about later. Later, Rose suggested an introduction game for the new members after the explanation had ended. The ladies excitedly agreed.

"I start!" said the same blond girl. "My name is Rose Lavillant and I play the trombone! I studied at a conservatoire in Paris for 3 years before joining this band recently. I like pink and unicorns and my favorite food is strawberry shortcake. Nice to meet you!"

After a round of applause, Rose signaled Juleka to continue, and she passively proceeded. "I'm Juleka. Bassist. Nice to meet you"

Next to continue was the red-haired woman from earlier, Alya, flautist and trumpeter; the drummer, Mylene; another trumpeter, Alix; and one of the saxophonists, Sabrina. It was Adrien's turn next.

"Hello!" He started, with his high-pitched voice. "My name is Ad-" he paused for a second at Juleka's deathly glare, gulping once before continuing. "My name is Noirette. I play the piano! I'm from Paris Classical School and I'm very pleased to meet you all!" He squealed, moving his arms along.

Adrien's excitement for freedom and new experiences was contagious to the rest of the ladies who energetically (almost hysterically) responded "Nice to meet you too, Noirette!".

It was Luka's turn next. He gulped, nervous, and with his fake high pitched voice and under Juleka's death stare, he started.

"Hi... My name is Lu- Lucia". 'I'm killing Adrien for giving me that name' he thought. "I play the guitar. Nice to meet you"

With their introductions over, Juleka finally relaxed. The rest of the ladies' introductions followed but, to be honest, neither Luka nor Adrien were listening: they were just patiently waiting to know more about the ladies that captivated their hearts. Their turn finally arrived, and the short haired one started:

"Hello. My name is Kagami. I sing and play the violin. I've been in the band for a few weeks. My favorite color is red and my favorite food is katsudon. Nice to meet you" a silence followed Kagami's introduction, so she called for her partner's attention with her elbow. "Marinette, your turn!"

"Oh-! Sorry… I was distracted… He-ello… My name is Ma- Ma- Marinette! I'm a singer but I can also play side instruments like the tambourine, the maracas or the castanets. I've been in this band for a few weeks and I studied in Paris Music School. My favorite color is pink and my favorite food is macarons. It's nice to meet you-", she ended with a nervous high-pitched voice.

Luka and Adrien exchanged excited lovestruck grins: the ladies' names and voices were just as beautiful as their faces. They were going to enjoy their outing with the band better than they could have expected.

______________________________

When the car got loud from the ladies chit-chat, Luka and Adrien found their moment of peace to share their thoughts.

“Luka, did you see that?” Adrien started, signaling at the end of the car, towards the singers of the band.

“Yes…I saw.” Luka answered, with a lovestruck grin on his face.

“That beautiful face…”, Adrien continued.

“Sweet voice…”, Luka added.

“Asian features…”, their mumbles continued.

“Dazzling eyes…”

“Dark shiny silky hair…”

The two men reacted at their exchanged words and looked at each other, surprised and nervous. Adrien gulped, worried.

“Wait- who are you talking about?”

“Who are YOU talking about?” Luka threw his question back at him, slightly aggressively.

“That girl, Kagami, of course!” Adrien exclaimed as if it was the most obvious response.

“Oh, that's good. I was talking about Marinette.” Luka sighed and showed him a relieved smile.

“Oh...” Adrien blinked, sighing and smiling in relief too. “I'm glad we weren't talking about the same girl. I wouldn't have liked to steal a girl from you.”

“What makes you think I wouldn't win her over you?”, Luka confidently grinned.

“Oh- anyway- It's better this way.”

The two men laughed together, trying not to be too loud for their manly voices to destroy their cover-ups.

“Will you help me with Kagami?” Adrien asked his friend.

“Only if you help me with Marinette.” said Luka, offering him a handshake he excitedly returned.

“Count on it, my friend!”

#my fic #fic: miraculous escape #lukanette fic #adrigami fic #my art #airipyon #airip4 #lukadrien friendship #endgame lukanette #sorry for the ugly art #It's OLD and I cringe #but you get the overall idea I guess?#silly comedy #This idea was from last year OMG #Idk when I'm going to continue it but I hope I will...#I'm super slow to finish my WIPs...

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