#also as my library volunteer’s mother said when I met her there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

worldoffangs · 4 months

Text

Pieces

My return to Lancashire had been long overdue. Last time I visited the area, Frankie Vaughan’s ‘The Garden of Eden’ played in the background while I drained a young woman named Cheryl just outside a pub in Blackburn.

Existential crisis in a vampire’s life happens mostly when we discover new facts from the time before our transformation; and the same goes for heretics. The same goes for me. When I met my great-great-grandson Adrian, in New Orleans of all places, I learned that the love that defined my entire life as a human resulted in the birth of a child. My child. Leaving behind my father and everything I’d ever known, I swore to myself that I would never look back. Of course back then I didn’t expect I would be alive for over a hundred years. But learning that Felicity had given birth to my son and my father chose to raise him as his own, whether it was to ensure he had an heir to carry the Montgomery name and follow in his footsteps, or because he felt like he owed it to us, Felicity and me, to correct a mistake he had made; it changed my perspective on never.

Adrian couldn’t answer my questions. Understandably so; it all had happened long before he was born, before even his father was born. But for the first time in over a century I wanted to know what had become of my family. Something he said about his mother’s passion for family history left an idea in my head that led me to come up with an excuse to browse through the archives of Preston. I grew up in Longridge, our house was just outside of town, near Longridge Fell where Felicity and I had spent most of our childhood and would get in trouble for it, but when it came to official business, we belonged to the town of Preston where they hopefully preserved everything I needed to learn more about my son.

I called ahead, just to be sure. Old documents came with a handle with care warning. Compelling my way into the archives was an option of course, but I knew I would be exhausted after such a long flight and, anyway, there is a certain charm to doing things the old-fashioned way sometimes. My cover was simple: a college student doing research for a thesis paper on Agricultural Developments in a given period of time. I looked the right age and they certainly wouldn’t bother to double-check my story. It was also very boring, who would care?

“Good morning, I’m James Parker. I called about the late 19th century thesis?”

The lady behind the front desk looked up from the magazine she was reading and pushed her glasses back from the tip of her nose. Classic librarian look. Her eyes lit up seeing me and greeted me with the kind of smile that’s contagious.

“Oh, yes! Good morning, we’ve been expecting you! One of our former colleagues offered to be your guide in the archives and find everything you're looking for. It’s quite the labyrinth. Even I would get lost in there. She should be here soon, please, have a seat.”

Before I could, she approached me so I thought it best to stay where I was. Boots, jeans, a hoodie, backpack, typical tourist look. The best way to blend in is to stand out.

“How do you like it here so far?”

“Sorry?”

“The weather is something to get used to.”

“Actually, the weather I am used to. We, umm, have a similar climate in Lexington.”

“I see. Yes, that makes it easier on you, doesn’t it?” she chuckled and glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, there she is! James, this is our lovely volunteer, Alene. She will be the one to assist you.”

Overwhelmed by the cheery welcome, libraries being quiet and depressing places usually, for a moment I was confused why she would call me James. When I turned around, I saw another friendly librarian walking up to me. She had to be in her late fifties, I could tell by the wrinkles left behind by all the smiles she had smiled, but her appearance was youthful and she seemed very comfortable showing me around.

“Hi, thank you so much for coming” I offered my hand and she accepted the handshake. With her other hand she gestured towards the door on my left.

“Shall we?”

“Of course, after you.”

Walking through the door leading us into the less popular parts of the library, it felt like I was about to uncover some secret of the past that would revolutionize the world. It would change my mindset for sure; maybe help me forgive my father, but it was hardly anything that really mattered anymore. Even I couldn’t go back in time.

“I was surprised when they called me. It’s not everyday somebody wants to do research on the Montgomeries. How do you know about them anyway?”

How would James Parker know about them again? That wasn’t a question I was prepared to answer. But it made sense of course, why would I fly twelve hours and sit on a train for a thirteenth just to look up information on this specific family. I’d had my fair share of fake identities to figure it out before the suspiciously awkward silence would set in.

“My, uh, my grandfather used to work for one, back in the day. They were practically family, very close, and his grandfather lived here, originally? I think?”

“Henry, yes. He moved to the United States after marrying an American girl.”

“Loretta” I blurted out without even thinking. Or realizing how little sense it would make for college student James Parker to know that. To me, she was Aunt Loretta. She was something else.

“Yes, you’re correct” from her tone and facial expression I could tell she found it odd that I knew the name but didn’t question it. “So what are we looking for, exactly?”

“Umm… anything related to the cotton mills around here? As far as I know, Henry and his brother came from a wealthy family and they owned a couple of those, and did business with others once the railroads were laid?”

“I’m impressed, you’ve done some reading beforehand.”

“Of course. I wanted to narrow it down, you know, to one chapter if possible. Nothing too detailed.”

“What is the title of your thesis?”

“Still in progress. But it’s mostly about… how industrial innovations changed agriculture at the turn of the century. And since my grandfather was so close to someone whose family was sort of in the middle of it, I thought I’d pay tribute, you know, honor their bond.”

“That’s very sweet of you” she added before moving a cardboard box from the shelf just above her head.

As soon as I noticed, I wanted to help, but she managed on her own. There was a routine in her movements and I could tell she was enjoying this task more than I would have expected. All these books, boxes, binders, dust, poor lighting. She seemed to fit right in, somehow.

“Here, these are some of the now public records from those years and in that box,” she pointed at the one above my head, “you will find some more. Transportation logs, financial records, orders and quotes… They should help you create graphs and diagrams for your paper.”

“Thank you, it’s all very helpful. Uh, do you, are there any documents about the family?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, umm, last wills?”

“Why?”

She was beginning to suspect I wasn’t who I said I was. It gave me two choices: slow down and focus on questions that wouldn’t blow my cover or compel her to go with it. For now I decided to stay in character.

“Oh just, how the mills were passed down the generations. What happened to the businesses, that sort of thing?”

“I see. Sure. They are over there, anything we could find.”

“I’m sorry, we?”

“Yeah, it’s my husband’s family. They didn’t tell you?”

There were a lot of things I hadn’t been told, but compulsion was now definitely out of the question. I could have tried to compel her but if Adrian, her son, knew about vampires, chances were so did she, or at the very least, she was full of vervain without even knowing it.

“No, actually, but that’s cool. So you were the one who sorted these out? Must have been a lot of work” and I wondered if she’d found the few photographs my parents had of me. If so, I had to get out of there before she’d recognize me.

“Most of them. It’s kind of my hobby. I love libraries. Archives. Genealogy, family trees.”

“So you know everything about them?” “As much as possible, I guess?”

“Mind if I ask you a few questions? Probably faster than reading all of these, but I will, of course, browse them.”

“Sure,” she said with a smile.

An American kid wouldn’t bother with documents if he can ask for the CliffsNotes. Right back on track.

“What happened to the mills after Henry left?”

“Well, his brother Joseph continued the business, although he had to sell one of the two mills they owned because it was too much work alone. Then his wife became ill and he had a hard time dealing with that. There was a time when he partnered up with someone from Preston who would do all the traveling for him because he didn’t want to leave her side.”

Except he did, repeatedly, to spend hours at the pubs in town because he couldn’t bring himself to watch her die. The sudden realization that I did the exact same thing when Cassandra died hit me like a truck. Apples and trees. But that wasn’t why I was interviewing Alene. That load of guilt had crippled me for a decade already; it was time to find new reasons to hate myself a little more.

“Did they have any children? Who did the mill go to?”

“They had a son. Nathaniel, according to his last will.”

He included me in his will? Possibly a footnote. But... what if he left me something of my mother’s and it was now forever lost to me? My heart forgot to beat for a moment. Odd sensation, I don’t recommend.

“What happened to him?”

“Nobody knows. One day he left and… never returned.”

“That’s… weird.” What else could I say to that quick summary of how it went down?

“Then there was his other son, James, from his second marriage. He inherited the mill at the age of twenty when his father died. He didn’t really have his neck for business, but he tried. For a few years anyway. Then he sold the mill and there ends the Montgomeries’ connection to your thesis, I’m afraid.”

James. He really wanted a son named James, didn’t he?

“From a second marriage? Wasn’t Joseph, like, fifty years old at the time?”

“He was. Why?”

“No reason, he’s just lucky he had another son before he passed. You know, to inherit his business.”

“Well… He wasn’t really his son.”

“He adopted an heir?”

“Not officially. There wasn’t a legal way to adopt him until after Joseph died. He was born to one of his maids, in fact, but Joseph raised him as his own.”

“Why?”

Why indeed. Was it guilt? Remorse? The sudden inclination of a father to do right by the daughter he had kept a secret? To do right by the son he’d ignored? Did he become sentimental as he got older? Or was it purely a business decision, to keep the mill in the family?

“You’re asking a lot of personal questions.”

“I’m sorry, I got a little invested. You see, my father and I, we never really got along too well. We never really had that father-son relationship, you know? So I think it’s great that Joseph would adopt a son and actually love him.”

“He married the maid’s mother a few years after the child was born. He treated them both like his own family.”

A decent move. Nora deserved better than to be someone’s dirty little secret. The shame she must have felt when she found out she was pregnant with my father’s daughter. She was a good person, from what I gathered as a child, and later, growing up. She had become the mother I’d lost, and I had no idea how close that was to the truth.

“What happened to James after leaving the cotton industry?”

“He found love and had a family in Blackburn. Then they moved to Lancaster for work and we have lived there ever since.”

That would’ve been enough for me but James Parker had to pretend he was interested in the documents he was carrying to a desk in the dusty cardboard boxes he asked for. So I spent the next two hours taking notes and making photocopies to play the part and convince everyone I was but an ordinary kid doing homework. My father used to tell me I should show more interest in the industry that put food on my table. It only took me a hundred and twenty years, but here I was, learning everything about cotton mills… There weren’t many photos and the ones I did find were of the mill, the workers, or shipments. Any pictures of family members would be collected in a very organized, properly labeled album, sorted by decades, courtesy of Adrian’s mother. An album I wouldn't mind getting my hands on.

The fact that she didn’t recognize me suggested that my father disposed of the few photographs he had of me before he died, or she simply never bothered to memorize my face since they probably assumed I died soon after leaving. Not lost, not undead, just dead. The prodigal son, who never returned. Still, part of me wondered if my father had tried to find me, if he’d expected me to come home eventually, tail between my legs, admitting I’d been wrong to leave. And I should have. When the coven locked away the heretics, I should have returned. Four years apart might have softened my father’s heart, we could have reconciled. I could have watched my son grow up. And I would’ve come home, knowing he existed. I would have found it in me to forgive my father for betraying my mother and letting me down when I needed him the most, but the problem with should’ve, could’ve and would’ve is by the time they occur to us, it’s already too late.

Having learned everything there was to find, I wanted to treat Alene to lunch and thank her for helping me with my research, but she refused. Said she was running late. Too bad, I replied. Too bad; I could have used the distraction. Because now that I stood there, alone, in the middle of Preston, I felt lost. Not physically; I still knew my way around town, but emotionally. Completely clueless as to how I should process what I’d heard. And there was so much still that I wanted to know. About my son, Felicity, hell, even my father. But the records ended there like a cliffhanger: he moved away and lived happily ever after, or maybe he didn’t, but anyway, the end, sequel teased, announced, then abruptly canceled.

Now what?

First and foremost, I needed a cigarette, so I found myself a lonely bench where it wouldn’t bother anyone else. Nasty habit, I know, I know, but it was either nicotine or narcotics, and my head already felt like somebody had removed my brain and thrown it into a blender, only to pour it back into my skull. There was nothing I could change about the past, and dwelling on the things I never had would have been pointless. My girl got pregnant and my son was raised by my father. His descendants, my descendants, had no idea I was still around and that was for the best. Well, except Adrian now, I realized. He would hear about my visit to Preston for sure, his mother would tell him about this “peculiar young man from the United States who chose our family for his thesis, can you believe it?” and he would not. He would not believe that I’d gone to see his mother and risked being found out and revealing the existence of vampires to her. To dig deeper, I knew I’d have to contact his family, my family, for god’s sake, or ask around in Lancaster, but that would be suspicious. I’d already risked too much with Alene.

But there was something I had to do before returning to the States, even if it was risky. And my feet carried me back to the bus station without making me work for it.

“One ticket to Longridge, please.”

A hundred and twenty years had passed but the time finally arrived and I returned to the green plains and hills I used to call home. Not much had changed; at least that was my first impression. Renovations had been made of course, new buildings had been built in place of the old, but it barely looked different from my memories. New shops, new benches, roads, cars, and unfamiliar faces. Other than that, the only thing that was strikingly different was the size of the cemetery. It had grown twice as big over the decades, so I had to ask for directions to find my mother’s resting place after buying her favorite orchids near the main entrance. The guard gave me a strange look of course, asking about hundred-year-old graves on such a beautifully raincloudy April afternoon, but it wasn’t anything a bit of compulsion couldn’t fix. Once I spotted a familiar sculpture, I remembered the path. Last time I was there, I was still human. The realization made me feel uneasy and ashamed, stopping in front of my mother’s headstone. Drafts are common in open spaces but one of them gave me a shudder, as if my mother’s cold hand had brushed over my spine. Who knows; when one’s half witch and half vampire, nothing seems too absurd or impossible. If it was supposed to prompt me to say something that would eventually make me choke on my emotions, I had to disappoint.

I wanted to keep it together, for her sake and my own, out of pride, because my father was buried right next to her as if they’d lived together happily ever after, and died holding hands in their eighties. It had to be in his will, the will I hadn’t read back at the library but photocopied for later when I would be alone in my hotel room, otherwise he would have been buried next to Nora. The thought of that bothered me for a reason I couldn’t wrap my head around. They got married so my son would grow up in a semi-functional family with a heritage and to protect Felicity from public humiliation and shame. All because of me.

Staring at my father’s name on his headstone, the years he had lived, privileged to watch my son grow up to be a young man, two words started forming in my head: thank you. I didn’t say them out loud. I couldn’t. Deep inside I still blamed him for everything, even if I knew how hard it hit him when my mother died. It changed him to the point where we became strangers. He always kept himself busy with work to take his mind off his grief but it only resulted in him being absent most of my life. I lost both my parents: one to the inevitable, and one to business trips. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d tried to make up for his mistakes by raising my son the way he should have raised me. I also wondered if I could’ve been a good father myself. Would I have matured enough to be a good husband?

With a heavy sigh I pulled an orchid from the bouquet meant for my mother and lay it on his grave.

“Thank you,” I said eventually, but my voice sounded like someone else’s. Had to be the lump in my throat, honestly. “Thank you for taking care of them for me.”

Forgiveness is a strange thing: one semi-selfless act can erase decades of disappointment or make it easier to see past the mistakes someone had made. And, as heavy as those words felt on my soul, I felt relieved. The rest of the flowers I placed on my mother’s side. It was time to go. I had one more stop to make.

The guard I compelled to help me find my parents also helped me look into old funeral records. We found four Montgomeries. My mother, my father, Nora and Felicity. She took my family name, after all, just not the way we’d imagined. Come to think of it, it was her family name too, from the start. Could've been. Everytime I thought of her I remembered her young and beautiful, her eyes large and blue as the sea, her hair dark blonde, almost brown, with red tones that came out best in the summer. Never had I imagined her married to somebody else, raising children of her own, or surrounded by grandchildren later. But I always hoped she had a good life and ever since I’d found out we had a son, I hoped he had a happy life as well; despite growing up without his father. As curious as I was to find out what kind of lies he’d been told about the circumstances of his birth or whereabouts of his real father, I didn’t want to know.

One last time, Felicity took me on a walk. She wasn’t buried in town, but on Longridge Fell, a hill where we used to spend a lot of time together as children, then teenagers. We fell in love there. The oak tree she loved was already large back then and it’d only grown larger since, one of the few trees I still recognized. There were younger trees, pines and larches, lots of them, but the paths leading up to the old oak were still good to walk.

The swing I’d hung up on one of the branches for her as a welcome home surprise when she returned from boarding school was gone and I wondered if she’d shared our spot with our son when he was little. If she’d pushed him on that very swing before it was removed. But the oak was still there, keeping her company, and I greeted my old friend with a gentle pat on its trunk. Her headstone was facing west, not far from where we used to lie in the grass and watch the clouds and sunsets together. Whoever buried her there must have known her well. Coming up behind it was hard enough, but when I walked around it, my feet felt rooted to the ground.

A picture of her was attached to the headstone, and it wasn’t something I was prepared for. There was a thick layer of dirt on the glass and I could have left it there to save myself the heartache, but, after some hesitation, I wiped it clean. And there she was. Staring into my soul from an oval cameo. A hundred and twenty years later it still affected me. I’d picked some wild flowers on my way up, so I placed them in front of the headstone and sat down on the ground to face her.

The picture didn’t do her justice but she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Graceful and respectable. Felicity Montgomery... She had to be in her late thirties in the photo, although she only died two decades later. Ideally I would have had the guts to talk to her, to tell her about all the wonderful and incredible things in the world she was missing out on, but I couldn’t find my voice. Perhaps it was better that way. Otherwise I would have told her I still loved her, deep inside, and missed her, how sorry I was about leaving her, but then I wouldn’t have been able to walk away. For hours I’d sat there, staring into her eyes. I could recall their color, even though the picture was in black and white; I remembered them staring into mine when I first kissed her. The oak was our only witness.

When the sun was about to set, I moved to sit next to the headstone so she could watch the sunset with me, like we used to, and I imagined her sitting next to me, her head resting on my shoulder while we would hold hands, her fingers between mine. I hoped she knew I was there, all these years later. I hoped she knew she still mattered to me, and I would never forget her, even if I moved on. But the sky was soon turning from orange and pink to gray, and I knew it was time to go. One last glance at her picture and a kiss on her headstone, then I got back up on my feet.

As for my father’s will: I never read it.

1 note · View note

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

---------------------------

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

---------------------------

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #gremlin trio is protective #they're like #you're not cool enough for our mom #hey tumb please stop fucking up the order of my tags #this is the second time you've messed up my attempt at being funny

307 notes · View notes

ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years

Text

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

#robin #red hood #robin jason #robin jason todd #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

121 notes · View notes

alkaysani-archived · 3 years

Note

You had an assigned seat next to them at a wedding for a mutual friend. + andromaquynh

oooh thank you for the patience on this kayla! this also has some joenicky in it, i hope you don’t mind!! you can also find it on ao3 here

the setup

“Nicolò, I am so happy for you.” And Quynh was, to the point that she couldn’t stop grinning that her face hurt so much. And her lovely Nicolò smiles at her, and leans into her arms, pressing close and she squeezes him tight, burying her face into his shoulder. “The ceremony was so beautiful! I can’t wait for the reception—” she starts, and Nicolò pulls away then with a smile, then a slight grimace.

“I’m sorry again for the mix-up. I know I said you’d be with my Nona, but then my aunt showed up, with my uncle, and—” Nicolò rushes out, and Quynh just snorts and squeezes him.

“It’s one table over, and it’s going to give me a chance to get to know Yusuf’s friends,” she says, just as said man wiggles his way in between the both of them, an arm on each of their shoulders.

“Oh you’re going to love them, Quynh. They’re almost as terrifying as you,” Yusuf tells her, with a small kiss on her forehead that makes her feel warm. He glances at Nicolò and finds her best friend staring at his newly minted husband with the softest look in his light eyes, a small, crooked smile on his face.

A look of utter adoration. She couldn’t be happier for him. Quynh puffs up her chest and tugs down her suit jacket with a proud smirk at being called terrifying, nodding.

“Maybe I’ll meet my match,” she says with a grin, making a soft noise when her ring catches on her shirt, missing the sly wink Yusuf gives his husband, before looking down at her hands, and reaching over to help. “Here, don’t tug,” Yusuf says softly, and Quynh drops her other hand to let the man do his thing. In the four years she’s known Yusuf, she’s learned the two most important things that she can learn about the man:

One, he loves Nicolò with everything that he has, and has loved him since they started competing for study space at the library in their last year of college, that more than once have ended with Quynh making her way to campus to pull them apart. It reminded her of all the times she’d have to pull Nicolò by the back of the shirt when they were so much younger, away from any fight that he was willing to get into. Except that time, he didn’t end up dating them, or eventually marry them.

And two, Yusuf makes everything he touches, better. That included his art, his writing, the people that he helps through his voluntary outreach, Nicolò’s life as a whole, especially his relationship with his family, Quynh’s appreciation for her job as the lead art curator at the university museum, and now delicate chiffon shirt, that her ring is most definitely stuck on. How did she even manage that? Yusuf takes his time, making sure not to tug and ruin her shirt, and Quynh waits, impatiently, because that’s who she is, and Nicolò moves to wrap an arm around her shoulders, squeezing.

“Keep still, Quynh.” “No. I can just pull it, and if the shirt is ruined, take it off.” She definitely can. Quynh has a cropped, black tank underneath that’d still look great with her dark red suit.

Nicolò makes a soft noise the same time as Yusuf lets out a soft “Yes,” and puts up the ring, smiling at her then. Her shirt looks completely unharmed. “No need to for a wardrobe change, though I still think you’d kill it,” he says, giving her the ring, that she slips through her finger with practiced ease.

“Yusuf, do not encourage her.”

“She’s not gonna be with Nona anymore, beloved,” Yusuf says with a wave of a hand. “I’m sure her new table companions would appreciate it,” he says, and Quynh squints at him then. What did he mean by that?

“Either way, Quynh looks lovely. And her shirt is fine, so there’s no need to change,” he says, taking her hand then and pulling her along. “Come on, we need to get to the venue now. I’m sure they’re all waiting for us.”

***

Quynh gets to the table at the reception hall first.

The rest aren’t there yet. According to Yusuf, they couldn’t make it to the ceremony, and are looking to celebrate thoroughly when they all get there.

“Have you met them before?” Quynh asked Nicolò softly, just before he left her, and Nicolò just gave her a smile, and a nod.

“Remember those few years after college when Yusuf was away? When he was still volunteering overseas?” he asked, and Quynh nodded, remembering the two years after their graduation that Yusuf had left. “These are the friends he made from that. So, I’ve only ever met them when I was on video calls with Yusuf, and then when they’re on with Yusuf now. They’re still doing the same thing, even after Yusuf came home.”

Came home to Nicolò, to build a life with him. When Yusuf had first left, Quynh had been angry, because how dare did Yusuf leave Nicolò to do this? To do good work, yes, but she was home to see how sad Nicolò had been, even though he himself was doing his own good work back home. He had missed Yusuf something terrible, and was never angry at the man. “He misses me just as much, for we love each other just the same,” Nicolò would always say to her when she’d get too upset. Still, it didn’t stop her from reaching out to Yusuf once or twice, asking him to consider coming home. And all he ever said was that he was working on it. And he did, and now he keeps his voluntary outreach at most, at a national level.

“They’re good people then,” Quynh said, after a beat, and Nicolò smiles, nodding. “I think you’d get along with them, you know. You have something in common,” he replied, and Quynh blinks, tilting her head, just as they got to her seat. He smiled, and kissed her forehead.

“They told him to come home to me, then helped him do it.”

Yeah, that’s definitely going to be a plus on Quynh’s book.

She’s fiddling with her ring and turned on her seat, conversing with one of Nicolò’s aunts when she hears the chairs on her table move behind her. Particularly, she feels the chair beside her move, and so she turns. And finds a tall woman pulling out the seat, in a sleek white suit, her dark hair stark against it. Quynh stares up at her and her breath hitches.

Fuck, this woman is gorgeous.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” the woman says to her, and Quynh blinks, wondering if she had said her words aloud, her face heating up, a smile creeping across her lips.

“Smooth, boss,” she hears, and she glances at a tall blond man looking at the woman with a shake of his head, slipping into his own seat with a snort, a black man sitting beside him, then, flashing Quynh a bright, gleaming smile.

“Her name is Andromache, and she’s got no filter,” the man says, reaching over the table to shake her hand. “Lykon,” he says, nodding.

“Quynh,” she says softly, taking his hand into a firm shake. The first man smiles at her then, taking off his sunglasses. “Booker,” he says simply, and Quynh gives him a soft nod, before turning back to the woman, standing up now.

“Andromache?” she says, voice soft, and the woman smiles, tilting her head.

“You can call me Andy,” she says, extending her hand to her, and Quynh smiles then, taking her hand, and shaking it.

“Quynh,” she says softly, and smiles when Andy starts to seat, and she does the same, facing her completely now.

“You’re Nicky’s best friend,” Andy says, and she feels her back straightening at the fact that she knows that. “Joe tells me you’re scary,” she says, and Quynh tilts her head before leaning over, raising an eyebrow.

“Only when I have to be,” she says, and Andy smirks, then laughing.

“Oh, I love a challenge.”

Damn. Quynh joked about finding her match, but this definitely feels like she has. Andromache feels different, already. She commands the room, but more importantly, she tugs something in Quynh.

Probably her loins.

Andy smiles at her then and winks at her, and Quynh feels like she’s going to melt into a puddle.

Most definitely her loins.

“Ugh, I can’t believe Nile wins the bet,” Booker groans, after a moment and Quynh turns to her then, Lykon laughing and already taking out what looks like a 100 Euros. Quynh raises an eyebrow.

“What bet?” “The bet that Andy was going to make a move on you the moment she saw you in person. Joe’s been hyping you up since we met!” Lykon exclaims, and Andy shakes her head then, rolling her eyes.

“That’s why Nile’s taking over for me, because she’s smarter than the two of you combined,” she says, before looking back at Quynh. “Nile’s going to be here in an hour or so. She’s finishing a call with her mom and brother,” she says with a smile, and she sounds soft-hearted at the whole idea. Quynh feels like she’ll like this Nile too.

However, that’s when it hits her what they had just revealed. This has been a setup. She then looks over to where Yusuf was, currently holding two of his nephews in his arms, dancing around with them, while Nicolò rocks their baby sister in his own arms gently, conversing with their mother, Yusuf’s cousin.

“That little shit,” Quynh says with pure affection in her voice, and when she looks back at Andy, she’s grinning, extending her hand gently to her.

“This was a setup!” she gasps, and Andy just smiles at her still.

“You interested?” she asks, bluntly, and honestly? Quynh adores it.

She takes Andy’s hand then and nods, squeezing it, letting herself be tugged forward, standing with her then.

“I most definitely am,” she says, and Andy smiles, before nodding to Lykon and Booker, who both stand to flank them. Lykon snorts, putting up a fist for Booker to bump, Andy and Quynh looking at the two of them now.

“The al Kaysani-di Genova setup, complete,” Lykon says, and Booker nods, as they bump fist.

“One for the books.”

Andy snorts, and shakes her head, but Quynh can see that she is fond, and happy as she turns back to her.

“Good,” Andy says with a soft smile. “I can’t wait to get started, but first, introduce us to your best friend?” she says, grinning. “They’ve no idea we’re here yet,”she reveals, and Quynh grins, then she’s moving back to go the other direction. Lykon and Booker make a soft confused noise, but they still follow, and Andy looks at her then.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re just going to go around. Go from behind, scare the crap out of them,” she says, and they all cheer in glee at the idea, but all Quynh can see then is Andy’s beautiful smile as she throws her head back in laughter.

“You’re something else, Quynh,” she says, and Quynh laughs when Andy starts to take off her heeled boots, just as Quynh’s start to take off hers.

“Seems like you are too, Andromache,” Quynh says, smiling at how easy her name rolls off her tongue. She squeezes her hand, before letting go, taking her shoes and leaving it at the hallway, before re-entering the banquet hall through the other door, Andromache right behind her.

“Booker, Lykon, flank,” Andy says.

“Got it boss,” Quynh hears, and she sees Lykon and Booker moving forward, still hidden and honestly, she’s impressed.

Quynh looks back at Andy then, and smiles.

“Our first mission together?” she says, and Andy smiles, iridescent and beautiful even in the low light.

“The first of many, Quynh,” Andy says simply, nodding.

“We’re just getting started.”

80 notes · View notes

spaceasianmillennial · 3 years

Text

Part 5: Home

Summary: Alucard and Sypha give Trevor Belmont a bath... with soap.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The sun shimmered and he awoke to the sound of her breathing, a warm wind upon his cheek and jaw. When he yawned and fluttered his eyelids, there she was, eyes crinkled with exhaustion but her lips curled into a smile, a deep relief that she was not dreaming and Trevor Belmont was there. Minutes passed between their gazing. He wanted to say something, something to light up a bigger smile and assure himself that he was real as well. If he could lift his right arm, he'd twirl his finger in her hair.

"Sypha, I've been thinking."

"What, Treffy?"

"What if I'm not Trevor Belmont?"

"Hmmm?" She paused. "Well, I did wonder if you were a beastie in disguise."

"What if I'm an incubus?"

Now her face wrinkled into playful disapproval, as if processing this as yet another one of his crude joke that hadn't sunk into her Speaker brain. She would know of incubi, they went through a rundown of beasts in the Belmont library before they hit the road together.

"What if I'm an incubus who shapeshifted into the form of Trevor Belmont and was sent to seduce you and infiltrate this human village?"

She seemed to be in on the joke, but the way her brows lifted indicated that she was trying to dissect some hidden meaning.

"If you're an incubus come to seduce me, well, you're doing a good job dressing up like Trevor Belmont and being all crude and getting on my nerves. I have to hand it to you. If you keep up this ruse, I might not mind spending the rest of my life with you. Keep up the ruse and I won't kill you, incubus." She patted his jaw.

But there was something he did not tell her. That incubus thing was a joke between his mother and father. "Your father never touched me. He had to have been an incubus. He must have killed Gabriel Belmont, took his shape and skin, and came to the Belmont Hold to seduce me. And I didn't care. Your father never touched me so I rather an incubus love me than not. It took having human children to convince me that it was Gabriel."

"Belmont, can you chew, or shall I spoonfeed you?" Alucard opened the cover, releasing the steamy scent made Trevor's mouth water. Trout with some lettuce leaves. Finally, something that wasn't broth.

"I'm not letting you spoonfeed me. Let Sypha spoonfeed me."

"Suit yourself, Belmont. By the way, Greta, the headwoman, wants to speak with you later this evening. So there's something we need to do with you. Just, don't panic."

"What?" He was expecting more experimental painkillers leaves to chew on.

"Belmont, as he said, don't panic," Sypha added, her expression mildly sour as if preparing for the worse.

"You're going to react," warned Alucard.

"Ok."

"We have to give you a bath, Belmont."

"Ok."

Alucard's expression remained unmoved. "With soap, Belmont."

"Ok."

Alucard lifted his brow. "You're not... repulsed? I figured you were so comfortable in your own filth and stink for eons that soap repels you the way silver and close-up crosses do to a vampire." Even Sypha seemed to raise her brows with skepticism. Trevor Belmont, not repelled by soap.

"Oh haha. Soap is not my weakness, hahaha."

"Belmont, will you be okay with me carrying you into the tub?"

Trevor finally pegged down what Alucard was implying, what the vampire did not want to say out loud. That the task of bathing Trevor Belmont would involve Alucard carrying said Belmont--naked--into the tub.

It was not the most ideal situation, to be carried naked by a man both your vampire adversary and your battle compatriot, but the benefits of not lying in his stink and unwashed wounds outweigh the cost of subjecting Sypha--and himself--to his scent. It would be as practical as your war comrade needing to tear your clothing to tend to a wound. Sypha had to endure weeks without him, so she deserved a less scruffy Belmont to make love to her.

"Whatever you need to do, Alucard. You're the doctor."

There was even one attribute of Lord Dracula that the Belmont family respected as they deemed Dracula Tepes as a serious threat. Lord Tepes was a man who understood that technology was magic in itself.

There sat a large porcelain basin standing on four golden lion-claw legs. A tube and knobs protruded from a wall. Sypha turned on these knobs and water-- "captured rainwater," Alucard explained--poured out. Sypha snapped up sparks of fire onto the coals beneath the basin to heat it up.

Sypha helped loosen the drawstrings of Trevor's trousers.

And so Alucard lifted him. The gesture was a clinical affair for a man raised by a doctor and far from the manners of a man who lifts his lover to the bridal chamber, yet Trevor swore he saw some tints on the vampire's cheeks as he lowered him into the warm water but the thought washed away as the warm water wrapped and sloshed him in its warmth.

"How do you feel?" Sypha asked.

"Better." The hot water embraced his numbing arm and he flexed his stiff fingers. When was the last time he bathed? He fondly remembered those times climbing into the cool lakewater with Sypha. He could detect that memory in Sypha's sly eyes and the curve of her lips whenever she wanted him badly. She took a soapy washcloth and began scrubbing his arm, his pits, his neck. She squeezed the water onto his hair and scrubbed it with sweet-smelling soap in circular motions. She winked at him before she reached deeper to draw the cloth at his pelvis and electricity shot up against his body.

"I sure miss looking at that body of yours, Trevor. I was wondering how I was going to live without that body for the next decades of my life."

He was aware that Alucard was sitting right there, just idly reading a book.

"You could join me," Trevor offered, loudly, to pester Alucard.

She smirked. "Another day, Belmont."

When she judged him pristine enough, she yanked the plug and the water drained into a pipe connected to the floor. He dried himself and she slid on him a long nightshirt that went down to his knees. Alucard carried him out and they helped him back to the bedroom.

This nightshirt, satin and smooth, felt so comfortable that it didn't feel right.

Greta sat in an armchair, uptight and professional.

"We've met, Trevor Belmont, but now's a great time for a proper reintroduction. I had a great deal of time to get to know Sypha. She's wise. She's very eager to help out. She's been great help sorting out the preserved herbs in the castle. So if there's anything you need or any suggestions you have or anything you want to contribute, you can go to me--or send for me. After all, you are a man of knowledge. We might have to consult you for many things."

"Well you got the books for that. Centuries worth of research down my family line, down from Leon Belmont."

"Yes. And you yourself must have knowledge that wouldn't be documented in the books."

Knowledge. It felt gratifying and he reminded himself to boast about it to Sypha, who was sitting by and observing the conversation. That someone came to him for knowledge, that word, as if he were a scholar.

Alucard, the bastard, must have clocked his thoughts and had to chime in, "Careful Greta, I don't think Belmont gets these kinds of compliments, let alone earn them."

Trevor continued on, "I understand your people of Danesti have grown fond of the libraries."

"A lot of them were excited to explore through to their hearts' content. They even asked Alucard if they could take some of the books home to Danesti. Some volunteered to stay back and be transcribers as well to bring it back to Danesti. Then it became clear that our lives would improve if we stayed around. For one, they didn't want to leave the graves of their loved ones and there were bodies to move, but two, they didn't want to leave behind knowledge that could very well save their children's lives."

"Which one do they seem to like better? The boring books about medicine and cosmos in Dracula's castle? Or the books about monster-slaying in the Belmont hold?"

The headwoman smirked at him. She seemed to have figured that he wanted something to rub in Alucard's face.

"I say the adults like them both equally but the kids look through the Belmont books more." Alucard gave her a furtive glare. "I think I'm more preferential to your books, Belmont. But anyway, I also wanted to meet with you because, while this is my village, this is also your land, and your library, as well and you should have input in how you want your home to be respected."

Home. Trevor felt tempted to slump down. He never quite wanted to go back and felt disconnected from the idea that this was his land. While he would technically be its heir, he never harbored real ownership when he bequeathed the lands to Alucard. It had been taken from him and that was that. It made a nice visiting place, or a place to restock weapons or retrieve research, but living among the ghosts and ruins was another weighty matter. Once something had been stolen by the zealous and bloodcurling priests, it could never be given back.

"We look forward to having you in our new town of Belmont, Trevor Belmont."

Having you. No one really asked him to stay. He was just expected to stay. He simply nodded.

"Great, as long as you don't name it Treffy."

Greta's eyes darted at Alucard and Trevor was sure that bastard vampire suggested that dreaded name to her.

She gave a head bow. When she and Alucard left, Trevor clocked the way Greta touched Alucard's shoulder, reminding him of the way his mother danced her fingers on Father's shoulders or when married relatives would rub their significant other's shoulder.

Sypha stroked his hand. "Greta likes you. That's good."

"She's trustworthy?" He liked Greta at first sight, had her pegged as a dutiful leader and someone who worked for her people. But God, anyone these days could be playing nice. God, they didn't want to get ensnared in a Judge situation again.

"She brought her people there to the castle to protect them. She listens to them. She... doesn't talk cheerfully about flogging her people. She and Alucard founded this village so they can have better things, including books and schools." She smiled, as if sensing his caution. "She... checks out."

Glad to know she's likely no child murderer. "If I doubt Alucard's judgment, then I trust Sypha Belnades's judgment," he announced. He wanted a moment to talk to her, about the idea of staying, but he decided that would wait, perhaps when his body no longer ached.

His eyes followed the seams. His finger traced over the patched area. He had finished mending his tunic. He figured that steadying a needle and thread could bring back some precision to his still numbing right arm. Alucard and Sypha brought him clothing from the Belmont hold, where he once acquired the meteorite-dark utility tunics with his knife-wielding cuffs. Now he had nothing else to do but to swat at any passing gnat.

His eyes fell on the open books at the nightstand, books that Sypha had been reading.

And then he reached for a book. He flipped idly around the text and illustrations of the sun, moon, and stars. He liked illustrations. Usually, he'll look at them and his mother would read to them. He already knew which creature tends to appear in a full moon or a dark moon or a crescent moon, which creature is powered by daylight (ironically), and which came out during certain constellations. But for the first time in eons, Trevor Belmont read about the stars.

–

Next up: Trevor *gasp* reading.

–> PART 6

COMMENTS OR REBLOGS APPRECIATED

The more refined version of this story is developing on Archive of Our Own

Check out my other fanfic on AO3

Tip me on Ko-fi or leave a comment

#trepha #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #castlevania #trephacard #greta

38 notes · View notes

startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Enough nerve

Summary: “For nearly five years the thought of his father had been a source of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone had told him he was like James he had glowed with pride inside. And now . . . now he felt cold and miserable at the thought of him”. - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry deals with the effects of what he saw on the Pensieve - this time, with his parent's help.

Part of my Jily Lives AU because I just love the idea of Harry having time with his parents.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

----------------------------

The house is quiet. There is one more person there than usual and still the house is so quiet that James can hear the sound of his own heartbeat. It’s disconcerting, actually.

Something is wrong and he knows it. Lily knows it too; she had glanced worriedly at him before leaving hurriedly for a mission for the Order, and then they had both looked in Harry’s direction - his head was bent down, playing dismayingly with the eggs in his plate, barely whispering a bye for his mother when she waved to him.

Not hungry and quiet. That is a bad sign.

The thing about Harry is that he is usually very easy to read, especially because he always looks out for his parents when he has a problem - except if it involves doing some saving-people thing, when Harry jumps first into danger and thinks later of warning his parents. Harry never had any problem talking about things before.

He certainly said loudly and with very colourful words what was on his mind during last Summer, when James and Lily were once again involved with the Order and then they had to keep secrets from Harry. It had not been pleasant, but then again that could be Harry behaving like a teenager - a scared, traumatized, full of nightmares teenager that had dealt with things an adult wouldn't dream of, but still. Teenage rebellion phase is something they can deal with.

And when Harry had been angry, at least they knew what his problem was, but now he is… apathetic? He didn’t say anything to his parents - not even to discuss school, complain again about Umbridge or comment anything about Dumbledore leaving school. He spent all week locked in the library, saying something about studying for his OWL, only coming out for meals he wasn’t even eating and refusing to meet either parents' eyes.

In fact, James doesn’t know why Harry even bothered to come home for the Easter Holiday, because it is evident that Harry’s mind is elsewhere, in a place where, for the first time, Harry doesn't seem to want to talk to his parents.

Except Harry usually shares with him and Lily what’s bothering him, so this new silence treatment is different. Maybe it is also part of his teenage rebellion phase? He thinks Moony had been like that - no, Remus was always the quiet one anyway, the one who least wanted to talk about his problems as if he didn't want to burden others. Maybe Harry is like that…?

The fireplace in the living room burns brightly green and he raises his head just in time to see a redhead coming out of the fireplace.

‘Oh, hi, Mr. Potter!’, Ginny says brightly and slightly out of breath. She looks windswept as if crossing fireplaces has been a challenge. ‘Sorry to burst in unannounced like that’.

‘No problem, and it’s James’, he says in a false chastening, making her grin. No matter how many times he asks, Ginny always calls him Mr. Potter, even though she has no problem calling Lily by her name. ‘What’s up?’

‘Mum forgot to send our Easter eggs, so I volunteered to bring them here, though I may have crushed them a little in the way. Your fireplace is hard to find now'.

James nods gravely. Ever since Voldemort came back, their house has been overly protected. The only magical way to enter is through the Floo Network, whose access is limited to a few houses, and owls can’t find the place. It's annoying, but if it helps keep Harry safer, he doesn't mind.

‘Also’, Ginny adds, smiling unabashedly, ‘any excuse to be away from Aunt Muriel is valid. We are at her house for the holidays and it’s been a nightmare’.

‘Oh, dear Aunt Muriel. I’ve met her once. “Thought you’ll be more handsome”, she said. “Your wife is much prettier than you”, which it's not false, but still -'

‘Unkind, I know. She always tells me that I should be taller, as if I could control it’, Ginny agrees, rolling her eyes. ‘Anyway, Ron left with Dad for a trip to the market down the village, leaving me alone, that bastard, and I grabbed the first opportunity to get five minutes off. So…’

She delivers him three boxes, and points to the biggest one.

‘That’s Harry’s, of course’, she says fondly. ‘Ron told Mum he seemed down lately, so she thought he could appreciate more chocolate’.

‘Kind of her… so Harry’s been down?’

Ginny bits her lips, suddenly unsure.

‘I don’t know. Hermione said something like that too, but it may be just the exams or -’, she stops herself, her face flushed.

‘Ginny?’, James asks quietly. ‘What's wrong?'

She raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms.

‘I think that’s Harry’s business’, she says loyally, and James wishes she had spoken in a different way.

He can argue with a lot of things, but not with someone wanting to be loyal to Harry, no matter how much he is dying to understand what’s going on with his son.

He watches Ginny more carefully now. There is a stubborn expression on her face and he knows she won’t tell him anything, but maybe her stubbornness could help Harry in some way. He remembers Harry confessing to him how he’d been confused and worried after overhearing people discussing how he might be possessed by Voldemort (that’s the thing about Harry, he does the wrong thing but he eventually tells), and how Ginny had helped him see things clearly.

Harry also told him guiltily of completely forgetting Ginny had been once possessed by Voldemort, and James thinks he understands why Harry forgot it. Ginny is so bright and lively, especially now she is not quiet around Harry, that it would be easy for Harry to forget she had been involved with dark arts when she was younger. Harry never thinks less of anyone for their worst - he only sees their best.

But maybe Ginny can tell him off again - or, as Harry put it, talk some sense into him.

‘Why don’t you deliver the Easter eggs to Harry?’, James suggests casually, returning the biggest box to her. ‘He’s in the library. He’s been there all week’.

‘Oh’, Ginny whispers, her eyes big, and he can see she understands that something is really off with Harry. ‘Like when he barely talks to anyone and just has that look like someone ate the last piece of treacle tart?'

'And he refused my invitation to fly also', James adds and they both share a grimace.

Harry had been absolutely crushed for being forbidden of playing Quidditch and the fact that he had refused any chance to fly, especially when they were allowing some time off the house (which had been mainly off-limits ever since dementors almost got him during Summer), clearly was a sign of how bad things were.

'I will just give him those Easter eggs then', Ginny says. There is a determined look on her face that almost makes James feel sorry for his son.

‘Whatever gets you out of Aunt Muriel’s way, right?’, he asks teasingly, and Ginny grins, both knowing that is not really the reason she is staying a bit longer.

She goes to the library and, when she is at the door, she turns back to him.

‘I won’t tell you anything he says’, she warns, and James nods respectfully, watching her vanish inside the library with the Easter egg in her hand.

-------------------------------

If Ginny was able to tell Harry off so easily during Christmas, James expects her to help solve things with Harry quickly. Instead, she doesn't come out of the library for thirty-five minutes, all of which James keeps stealing glances to the door instead of reading the Alchemy Manual he was supposed to study.

Lily comes home in the meantime and she just blinks when he tells her what had happened.

'Hope she is luckier than us', she says, and James can hear the hurt in her voice. She is worried about Harry, and she is also sad that he isn't confiding in any of them this time.

It's a feeling James shares. How can he be there for Harry if his son doesn't want him?

'I'll take a quick shower, ok?', she adds, her hand touching his hair fondly and James can’t help but smirk at her.

‘Is that an invitation?’, he teases, making her chuckle.

‘For a quick shower? I deserve more time, you know’.

‘Oh, I know’, he agrees, pulling Lily into his lap to kiss her on the lips. He is feeling more and more inclined to offer her a long shower when the doors of the library open.

They break apart in time to see Harry and Ginny coming out, both looking serious. But James watches Harry's expression: he is frowning at his parents together as if somehow that bothers him.

'Hi, Lily', Ginny says with forced joy after there is an awkward moment of silence. 'Mum sent you Easter eggs. I'll just be going now, she is probably wondering where I am'.

'Thank Molly for us, Ginny', Lily says, raising up, her eyes going from James to Harry and back again.

'Yeah', says Harry, his voice hoarse. 'And anytime you want to escape your Aunt, you can come here'.

It's the most complete sentence James has heard Harry say all week.

Ginny smiles more naturally at him now - a smile that Harry almost returns - before waving around and vanishing in the fireplace.

There is another moment of silence, before Lily says in a voice too casual to be natural: 'I'll take a shower. Why don't you two start dinner?'

They both nod. James watches Lily go, before turning to Harry, with a forced smile.

'What do you think? Chicken pasta and salad?'

Harry shrugs, agreeing, as they go to the kitchen.

'I'm not really hungry', he says in a small voice, taking potatoes to chop without really paying attention. When James looks in his direction, thinking that Harry hasn't been hungry all week, he sees Harry is blushing faintly. 'Ginny and I ate all the Easter egg'.

'Chocolate in the library? You know you are not -'

'I know, no food in the library rule. It just happened'.

'Okay', James says slowly, taking more time than reasonable to say these two syllables. 'At least you ate something'.

His eyes meet Harry's then. This is the first time James is openly acknowledging he knows something is wrong, and this is also the first time Harry is looking at him directly with the most peculiar expression James has ever seen on his son.

He has already seen Harry’s green eyes shining with anger, desperation and hurt, but the emotion there is something new.

Disappointment.

As if James let him down somehow.

'Harry -', he begins, just as Harry starts talking too.

'There is something I need to tell you', he whispers, sounding miserable. 'I broke the mirror'.

'What mirror? The two-way mirror?'

'Yeah. About a week ago. I thought of calling you, but I was so mad that… I just broke into my hands'.

James just watches him with concern.

'We can fix later', he assures, but that still doesn't seem the reason Harry has been upset. ‘Were you hurt?’ Harry shakes his head. 'Why were you mad, Harry?'

Harry closes his fist and takes a deep breath as if gathering courage

'Because of what I saw on Snape's pensieve'.

James raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't say anything as Harry recounts exactly what memory of Snape he has seen. There is a heavy feeling on his chest that just increases with every word Harry says.

But he feels at his worst when Harry finishes his tale and he looks at James with a kind of desperation that seems to beg for an explanation, an alternative point of view of those events, any reason at all for the fact that his father was just as arrogant bullying toerag as Lily had called him then.

And he knows there isn’t.

'I wish you wouldn't judge me for what you saw, Harry', whispers James at least. 'I was young -'

'You were my age!', Harry cries, angry tears shining in his eyes.

'And still I was younger than you', James counters quietly. 'You faced too many things for a fifteen-years-old whereas… I was stupid and young and didn't think of anyone else other than myself'.

'But…', Harry blinks at him, as if even when he is upset he can't hear criticism against his father. 'You were good, I mean, you always told me how you became an animagus for Uncle Moony and how you were Head Boy -'

'It was for Remus, yes, but back then I thought of him already as part of my family. And that was my problem. Anything that was out of my own personal bubble… I didn't care. I wasn't selfless like you'.

'I am not -'

'You literally stayed behind last year during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament because you couldn't think of leaving a young girl alone in the Black Lake'.

'I was just stupid enough to -'

'You care for others. You are so much like your mother in that'.

This compliment doesn't make Harry smile, and James understands another problem Harry had with watching that memory.

Things with Lily had been so complicated then.

'I know that doesn't excuse me, Harry, and I am not trying to defend myself. I was everything your mother complained I was back then, but only because I didn't know better. I had the perfect life. My parents loved me and always gave me anything I wanted. My friends loved me and they trusted me. I was good at school without much effort. I was amazing at Quidditch and I knew it. People admired me. I never had any concern at all'.

Harry blinks at him, and James knows his son cannot fathom how it's like to live a life without any worry.

'So I was a bit conceived, yes, I thought the world revolved around me'.

'You… you and Sirius, you both… Snape…'

'Things with Snape were always difficult’, James admits, his hand messing up his hair nervously. His relationship with Snape was one he never wanted to fully disclose to Harry, even when Harry asked him once why Snape disliked them so much. 'We hated each other from the beginning and our ways were very different. But, yeah, it was four of us and Snape was mostly alone, so he almost never won'.

'Almost?'

James hesitates.

'Snape was - and he was also young, Harry, so I try to not hold against him - he was too invested in dark things, in dark spells, in… the wrong company. And I promise you, no matter what you saw, I always hated Dark Arts, always despised those who would use it. And in the few times he managed to get the upper hand… things got ugly'.

'So he did get back to you? He wasn't just…'

'Harry', James cuts him off, hating to crush the small hope that is glistening in Harry's eyes. 'Whatever happened other times between me and Snape, I can't say it justifies what you saw. That time, that day, I jinxed him for no other reason than I was bothered and…', James takes a deep breath. 'I wanted to call your mother's attention'.

'Mum was decent', Harry says in a small voice.

'She was. She never complied with injustice'.

'Mum - she said she would never... She disliked you so much'.

'Yes'.

'How could - did you somehow - she hated you'.

'Nah, she didn't. Not really. She just thought I could be better and I did become better, Harry'.

'You told me you had asked her out and she had refused you'.

'Yeah, she did. Twice. We only started going out in our seventh year'.

'But - why?'

'Why?'

‘Why did she accept to go out with you?’

There is a sigh from behind them.

‘I think that’s better if you ask me, Harry’, Lily says softly, and James turns to see his wife.

She is fresh from her shower, her auburn wet hair falling dark over her shoulders, and as always when he sees her James' heart skips a beat.

Their eyes meet and James can see she understands partly what has been bothering Harry all week. She approaches him, taking his hand and entwining their fingers, so they can stand side by side. Lily has a soothing presence no one else has for James and he breathes easier now.

Harry frowns, but he stays silent as he looks at Lily. James can easily read his son’s need for a sense for everything.

‘A lot of people were idiots when they were fifteen’, says Lily. James chuckles fondly.

‘You weren’t’, he says. Lily shrugs.

‘I was, just differently. I refused to see things that were in front of my nose and I thought only my opinion mattered. But I grew out of it, just as you did. Sirius grew up. Remus did too. We all did’.

‘Come on, Moony was fine’, James defends. She shakes her head.

‘He never said anything, right? I was more friendly with him than with any of you, and still he would never say a word against you. He worshipped you too much’.

‘Well - he made me and Sirius feel guilty - kind of at least, more than anyone else’. James looks back at Harry. ‘But, yeah, that stopped. Remus doesn’t have any problem saying what he feels now’.

‘Of course not’, Lily agrees. ‘People change, Harry. Sometimes for worse, sometimes for the better, and that was definitely your father’s case. Do you know how we told you we were friends before we dated?’

Harry nods, thoughtfully. Back at Christmas, when Harry had let slip something about the fact he had kissed someone, Lily had reminded him of the importance of getting to know someone better before getting into any relationship.

‘Well, things between us started rocky, but when we were in our sixth year… the world was changing and so were we. We became friends over shared concerns, shared beliefs and shared night talks. Your dad had his problems, but… his heart was always in the right place’.

When Harry looks confused, Lily grimaces as if she wishes she doesn’t have to continue this conversation too.

‘If I got it right, you saw -’

‘That day over the lake’, James says, his hand messing up his hair once more. ‘After the defense OWL’.

Lily nods gravely.

‘Well, then you know what - you heard what Snape called me’, she says in a low voice, and James wonders if Harry can hear the pain in Lily’s voice. Twenty years later and it’s clear that day still bothers her. He puts his arms around her shoulder, in comfort, and Lily throws him a grateful look. ‘Well, whatever faults your father had, he would never say what Severus… James was good. He was not prejudiced. That thing he does of seeing the best in people, no matter what - like with Remus and Sirius and…’

‘Peter’, James adds heavily when she stops herself, and now it’s Lily that is embracing him for support.

‘You helped people’, she says, looking at him with only affection on her bright green eyes. ‘And when you deflated your head a little, that became obvious. You didn’t care just for you or for those around you. You care for everyone. You cared about doing the right thing. And that’s one of the things that drew me to you’.

‘And here I thought it was my incredible ability to make you laugh’, he murmurs in a fake self-confident voice, and just as he expects, that makes Lily let out one of the amused giggles, accepting the kiss that James gives warmly on her forehead.

Lily sighs then turns to Harry, who looks at them still thoughtfully. ‘So, you see, I fell in love with your dad when that fifteen years old boy you saw had evolved into a very nice man. When he became Head Boy, I wasn’t even much surprised’.

James throws an incredulous look at her.

‘You are so lying, Evans’, he says. Lily chuckles.

‘I said "much", Potter. Come on, I saw you being all responsible the year before, helping young students and protecting people and not standing up to prejudice and bigotry. You deserved that badge', she paused before giving him a sly smile. 'It matched your eyes nicely too’.

‘I always knew you were only interested in my good looks’.

‘In how good you looked next to me, you mean?’, she teases, and James can’t help but to pull her towards him, kissing her softly on the lips.

When they break apart, Harry is avoiding looking at them, but James recognizes his embarrassment at his parents in the gesture, more than any kind of nuisance.

‘It’s safe to look now’, he tells Harry playfully, and Harry rolls his eyes at him, but he seems more at ease than James has seen him all week.

‘You love each other’, Harry says and the certainty and relief in his voice arepalpable.

‘Of course we do, Harry’, Lily says, exchanging a glance with James. ‘You know that’.

‘I just thought -’. He shakes his head. ‘Nothing. Ginny said I was being stupid, and she was right'.

'What did you talk about anyway? You stayed there for a long time'.

'She told me you were going to ask and that I should tell you it's my business', Harry replies grinning. 'But I don't mind... She just helped me remember something important. I was - afraid, I guess, of talking to you. She helped me remember anything is possible if you got enough nerve, so -'

'I am sorry, Harry', says James earnestly. 'That what you saw made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I just want you to know - it's important you know this - that you can always say anything to me - to us, no matter what'.

Harry nods quietly; the dark cloud that had hung over his head seems to have vanished.

'Now, what about a pizza? Since dinner hasn't even started?', Lily asks brightly, glancing at Harry. He smiles.

'From that old place in Main Street? Can we go there?'

This makes Lily's smile falters and Harry adds hurriedly: 'We can just order, no problem'.

'No, I think we will survive one night out. But take your wand with you, just in case'. Harry nods seriously. 'Go on'.

'Actually, Harry', James calls before Harry leaves, as a thought crosses his mind. 'Did Snape say anything about what you saw?'

Harry blinks at him.

'Snape wasn't happy', he says neutrally.

'Professor Snape, Harry… How is your occlumency?', asks Lily, exchanging a concerned look with James. After what happened over Christmas…

'The same. But -', Harry sighs as if he wishes he were saying anything else. 'I don't think we will continue the classes. He was really upset because of the pensieve'.

'What?', James cries just as Lily jumps.

'I will talk to him', she says. 'He can't possibly -'

'I don't mind, it is a relief actually -,

'This is really important, Harry, if -'

'Dad', Harry cuts him off, his hand going automatically to his scar as if it's bothering him. 'Can't we talk about this tomorrow? The holidays are almost over, and I was already too much a prat for most of it… can we just have a nice dinner?'

There is a pleading look on Harry’s eyes. James bits his lips, but after a second Lily nods with a small smile.

'Ok, but don't think we will forget it. Go take your wand'.

Harry smiles gratefully. Lily turns to James, touching his face softly when she sees he is frowning.

'We'll talk to Dumbledore', she says quietly when Harry is gone. 'He will intervene with Severus. Let's just have a nice dinner with our teenage son tonight, shall we?'

James sighs.

'Ok... I'm going to change then'.

When he is at the door, he turns to her with a smirk already on his lips.

'Do you know where our old school things are?'

Lily looks curiously at him.

'At the attic, I think, why?'

'Thought of using my old Head Boy badge. See if it still goes with my eyes'.

------------------------------

If you enjoyed, I have this oneshot of James and Lily finding out Harry’s a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry asking James’s help for inviting someone for the Yule Ball.

#Jily lives #James Potter #Lily Evans #Harry Potter #Jily Fanfiction #Eyes glistening #James Potter is a Good Parent #Lily Potter is a good parent #t: fanfiction

69 notes · View notes

valhallanrose · 3 years

Text

Canary in a Coal Mine

When Senga Canonach takes the mantle of Baroness, eleven-year-old Catriona receives the first true explanation of what it means to be the oldest of her cousins.

Some notes: Catriona/Astoria uses both she and they pronouns (she throughout this particular fic), while Avery Maollosa is strictly they/them. Both are nonbinary.

Edrine (she/they/he), who is only mentioned in this fic, is genderqueer (referred to with they/them pronouns here) and will make a full appearance in the next fic.

4.3k. I am unsure how to best label this, but for now, Cautionary CW for feelings and imagery of entrapment as a result of particularly controlling parental behavior.

Fic Title: Canary in a Coal Mine by The Crane Wives

One thousand, two hundred and twelve.

It was the number of individual pieces in the stained glass window above the stairwell, the one depicting their ancestor, Cliamon - their blade raised high overhead in a moment of triumph in they and their compatriots claiming of the territory that would become home to the Canonach family and all the relatives in between. Cliamon had been a force to be reckoned with, and for all the reading they’d done in their lessons, Catriona adored the stories of such a massive figure they could find such a connection to.

Catriona also thought Cliamon would laugh at the prospect of one of their descendants waiting like a loyal puppy at the top of the stairs for someone to fetch her.

Ever since Astor’s death, their mother had grown fearful, the leash tightening so much that Catriona felt she could have choked. Even though his death had been somewhat anticipated, it had left a shadow on Senga Canonach, and left Catriona to deal with the fallout.

Which was why she was left alone, at the top of the stairs, waiting for someone to pass by that could escort her down. It was her mother’s rule that she were not to walk up or down the stairs alone, so that someone might catch her if she slipped, and it was her mother’s rule that she could never leave the estate without an approved escort. The group of approved escorts was extraordinarily small, even though the majority of the family had volunteered, which left Catriona within the boundaries of Castle Kintyre and the gardens beyond the doors.

She was pulled out of her reverie with the familiar sound of what she knew was a silver-tipped cane on tile, and beamed down at her grandmother as she approached the bottom of the stairs.

“There you are, granny! Mother said you were coming home for the ceremony, but I was getting worried! When did you get here?"

“Oh, only last night, dear, and I got in late. You were already asleep, or I’d have said hello.” Myrna smiled as she made her way up the steps, surmounting the last and leaning in to press a kiss to Catriona’s brow. “There was some unexpected flooding on the roads through Ardaleith, but they were kind enough to let me stay a few nights at Ironhearth. I actually came with Baronet Avery and the Lady Rima. Little Edrine isn’t feeling well, so they’re home with their governess, but they wanted me to say hello to you. So...hello from Edrine.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask them to say hi for me, too. Maybe I can write Edie a letter. I’ve always liked them.” Catriona giggled as Myrna straightened her collar, laying it neatly against the soft navy wool of her sweater.

“Well, they seem to like you, too. I think they’d love a letter. You can even borrow my signet ring for the seal.” Myrna reached down to carefully smooth out the hem of her sweater, then smiled, one hand drifting up to cradle Catriona’s cheek in her palm. “Don’t you look dashing? Did you have any trouble with the kilt?”

“A little, but I think I got it. I poked myself with the pin a few times, though. Does it look okay?”

Her grandmother indicated loosely with a finger, and when they turned obediently in a circle, they were met with a broad smile and a nod from the woman in question.

“Perfect. Now all you need…” Myrna tutted softly as she dug in her dress pocket, withdrawing a hair comb and offering it to the child. “I’d love to see that pretty face of yours. May I?”

Eagerly, Catriona turned, tracing her fingertips over the comb’s arch - made up of two hands cradling a crowned heart - and, when Myrna was finished twisting her hair up and off the back of her neck, passed it back to her so she could slide the prongs neatly into her hair.

“There we are. Fit to rub elbows with some nobility, I think.” Myrna offered her hand to the child, which she eagerly took, the other hand resting on the heavy wooden bannister out of habit. “Shall we be off, then? We might be the subject of a search party if your mother doesn’t see us in our seats.”

* * * * *

The late spring breeze gently ruffled a few loose strands of hair framing Catriona’s face, turning their face toward the carefully trimmed hedges and the beds of colorful blooms in the butterfly garden. Bluebells and thistle, honeysuckle and heather, lavender and primrose, all only a small fragment of the sprays that covered this portion of the estate.

Sitting through any sort of formal ceremony was painful for a child her age, but what stuck out to her the most was when her mother - in her crisp, emerald suit with the Canonach tartan pinned at her shoulder - lowered herself to one knee, and then the other in the garden gazebo. It made her Aunt Malvina nearly tower over Senga, even though Aunt Malvina was already tall, and made Catriona’s mother seem so small when Malvina raised the diadem before them all and laid it upon Senga’s brow.

After the ceremony, when the guests followed in Senga’s shadow with raucous cheers and excited chatter toward the banquet hall, Catriona found herself drawn to the gazebo as the garden became comparatively empty. At the center of it was a flat stone, one that they knew had been torn from the earth at Mistwatch, with two indentations right beside one another in the exact place her mother had knelt.

Catriona lowered herself to the ground and smoothed a hand over the stone, her fingers dipping into the imprints and smoothing over the echo of dozens of knees before her mother’s had fallen there.

In the same spot as Barons and Baronesses and Baronets many times over, her mother had knelt upon the stone, a fragment of Rosinmoor, and accepted the crown from Malvina as if it had been made for her head.

And in a way, it had, forged in the fires of Ardaleith and delivered by Clan Maollosa upon their arrival the night prior. No two leaders wore the an identical crown, rather, Malvina had given up her own and allowed it to be reforged as an acknowledgement of the new reign to begin. Cliamon had worn no crown - the tradition began with their son, Donacha Carleigh - but their claymore had been passed down through generations, and it had laid in their mother’s hands as she swore to lead Kintyre with the honor and grace of all who had come before her.

She couldn’t help but wonder how many more would come after her mother.

Footsteps drew them out of their daze and made them look up - very far up, they realized, until they smiled with recognition and waved at the person in question.

“Hello, Baronet Maollosa. Am I in your way?”

They chuckled, smoothing a few stray hairs out of their face and lowering themself to sit on the steps of the gazebo.

“No, you’re alright. And Avery is just fine, remember?” They gently nudged her with their elbow, then extended their hand, cupcake carefully balanced on the small porcelain plate. “Saved you a cupcake. Your grandmother said you might be out here, and they were going fast. You like salted caramel, don’t you?”

Catriona blinked once, twice, hesitantly looking between Avery’s gentle smile and the swirl of frosting adorning the cupcake itself. It looked so unassuming, but...when was the last time she’d eaten something without her mother telling her to wait until someone else could taste her food?

“Granny said it’s okay?” She said after a moment, and Avery nodded, dragging the tip of their pointer finger over their chest twice.

“Cross my heart. I’d swear on my mother’s grave, but my mother is still alive, so that doesn’t hold very much weight in regard to a promise.”

Catriona couldn’t help but giggle, gingerly accepting the cupcake and starting to peel away the paper wrapping on the outside. “Thank you, Baronet - Avery. Thank you, Avery.”

They scooted forward slightly so they could set their feet on the steps and the plate in their lap, humming softly as they peeled away the paper and swept a finger through the frosting. Beside them, Avery leaned back on their hands, sighing softly as they looked up at the rare cloudless sky.

“Edrine was all torn up about not coming today.” They mused, and Catriona nodded, making sure to swallow her bite before answering.

“Granny said they weren’t feeling well, so it’s okay. I don’t mind waiting to see them. Maybe they can visit when they feel better? Granny said next time, she’ll show us how we can set up a fort in the library, so long as we put the books back where they belong if we take them.”

“I think Edrine would like that very much.” Avery ruffled Catriona’s hair lightly, a smile playing at their lips when she huffed and tried to smooth her bangs back out.

There were a few long beats of pause as Avery watched Catriona, the way she carefully picked at her hair and adjusted it so it looked presentable again.

They’d always liked her - she was quiet, certainly, but she wasn’t shy. Avery had realized long ago that she chose simply not to speak if she had nothing to say, and if she did, sometimes what came out of her mouth made them bite their hand so hard it left marks for trying not to laugh.

Really, she’d won Avery over when eight year old Catriona called them a ‘lily-livered arse’ at the dinner table for taking the last sticky toffee pudding. It had made them laugh so hard their chest hurt, and in an attempt to form a truce with the child, offered to split it with her instead.

It had been a fair offering, it seemed, as they’d never been called such a thing again.

“You know, I’ve never thanked you before.” They mused, dropping back onto their elbows before lowering themself to lay on the floor of the gazebo. “Edrine doesn’t have any siblings, and their cousins are all quite younger than them, so making a friend their age means the world to them. They look up to you - bloody better than the Griogal boy, don’t tell anyone I said that - and I am happy that they won’t have to walk this path alone.”

Catriona paused, tilting her head as she used the back of her hand to wipe the frosting away from her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Avery raised a brow, fingers lacing together to rest over their abdomen where they lay. “In regard to the Barony. You and Edrine are in a unique position, being so close in age and both with clear claims to your respective titles. It can be hard to live that life, there’s no doubt about that, but thankfully your mother and I are young enough to give you both plenty of time to find your way before that.”

Catriona stopped mid bite of the treat they had been given, their stomach suddenly heavy and the taste soured in their mouth.

Her mother had said something like that, once, a hand placed on either of her cheeks and her rings - one a heavy opal from Catriona’s stepfather, the other the Canonach family signet - cold against her skin.

You’re in a special place, sweet Catriona. One day Kintyre will be at your feet, but you cannot forget the difficulty you will face when it happens. I only hope I can give you enough time to find the way you need to go.

She swallowed slowly, then set the cupcake aside, half finished and suddenly not as appetizing.

“What are you talking about?”

There were a few beats of pause before Avery sat up straight, a concerned look clear on their face as they turned to look her in the eye.

“Catriona...honey, has your mother not told you?” They asked gently, and slowly, she shook her head. Avery sighed heavily, raking a hand through their hair before letting their elbows fall to rest on their knees. Catriona shifted, resting her hands on one of Avery’s arms and giving them a pleading look that made them suck in a breath through their teeth.

“I don’t know, kiddo, I don’t want to upset Senga if she wants to have that talk -”

“I deserve to know.” The child said firmly, even as their eyes began to prickle with tears, even as their lower lip noticeably began to quiver. “It’s my life, too. It’s not fair to keep things from me.”

A part of her knew any child in Rosinmoor would have been delighted to have a life at any of the seven estates, and Catriona wasn’t oblivious to the privilege she had been given. But even if it were gilded in gold, a cage was still a cage, and Castle Kintyre had become hers. She envied her cousins, free to go where they want and do what they please, envied the stories of Rosafearn and longed to explore on her own, but it hadn’t been a part of the hand she had been dealt.

But maybe...maybe if they knew what frightened their mother so much, they could try and ease her worries, and get a little more freedom in turn.

At her desperate yet hopeful expression, Avery let out a frustrated sigh, propping their chin in their hands.

“Your mother should have absolutely told you by now, but that’s a grievance I’ll take up with her. You’re eleven, you’re long since capable of at least understanding.” They grumbled, clearly irate, then straightened, tone softening as they addressed her again. “Catty, what do you know about the line of succession?”

“I know everyone’s names. There were a lot of people before Auntie Malvina.”

“Everyone?”

Catriona nodded eagerly. “Yes, from the family tree book in the library. There’s Cliamon, of course, and then Donacha Carleigh, Muiri Lùtair, Juliet Lùtair, and then -”

“Okay, everyone, I believe you.” Avery held up a hand, an amused look on their face. “Stars, my uncle would have loved you. I couldn’t remember what I had for breakfast when I was your age, let alone the whole family tree. But what I meant was if you know how each leader is chosen?”

She had to pause at that, brows furrowing, trying to recall back to that book - they knew it well, the carefully bound leather and the tattered navy ribbon tucked between the pages - but couldn’t remember anything like that from what they’d read. It was always simply passed from family member to family member, but minimal explanation as to why.

“I don’t know.” She said eventually, and that sinking feeling grew somewhat heavier. “I thought it was because she just got married, I guess. I know when Aunt Malvina became Baroness, she had just gotten married to Aunt Lorraine, and mother just got married to James, but now that I think about it, I don’t remember if that was the same for great grandma Sorcha…”

Avery nodded slowly, setting a reassuring hand on Catriona’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “It makes sense. Don’t stress, Catty, it’s a reasonable conclusion. Would you like me to explain how it works?”

When Catriona nodded, they continued, eyes fixed on a vibrantly colored butterfly bush just beyond where their feet rested.

“I’m the oldest of three, so the Barony was going to pass to me no matter how many siblings I had. But my uncle, the last Baron, was older than my father, so he was the heir. And before him it was my grandmother, the Baroness, who was the oldest, and then her aunt, and so on and so forth. But the one thing they had in common was that they were each the oldest of their generation of the family, and thus, the crown passed to them.”

Catriona felt as if they could have been sick.

“Because they were the oldest.” She echoed, oblivious to Avery’s nod, as the realization dawned on them.

She was the oldest of all their cousins. Sachairi was the same age - eleven - but was a few months younger, born in November to Catriona’s September. That distinction was made clear to Catriona at a young age by their mother, but they never understood why, nor did they particularly care for that exact reason.

Their chest squeezed, and it felt as if they couldn’t breathe, thinking back to all the changes they had witnessed since her mother had been announced as the next Baroness. She had a handful of ladies in waiting, like Malvina, and advisors and guards and never being alone and never leaving the palace without an escort just in case, because it was ‘better to be safe than sorry”.

Catriona hated that phrase. It was the reminder she received every time she complained about any of her mother’s rules, because mother only wanted her to be as safe as possible, and she would rather be overprotective than risk something happen to her because she wasn’t safe enough.

But knowing this, now? They felt as if they had no chance of leaving the cage at all. When she was old enough to choose to leave, she’d have to stay, because being the oldest meant you were supposed to be the Baronet.

“But I know everyone’s name. Malvina wasn’t the oldest, Uncle Ualan was. And Aunt Grace and Cameron are both older than mother, so maybe our family is different? Maybe it doesn’t have to be the oldest, maybe I don’t - I don’t -” Catriona’s chest heaved, and she let out something between a wail and a whimper, making Avery jump as she began to cry. “I don’t want this, Avery, I don’t…”

Quickly, Avery scooped them up, pulling them into a tight embrace and gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her as she sobbed into the starched white collar of their shirt.

“Okay, okay...Catty, breathe, honey, I need you to breathe for me. Deep breath in, deep breath out, okay?” Look at me.”

Slowly, Catriona looked up, and Avery dug a kerchief from their pocket, offering it to her when she dragged the back of her hand across her cheek.

“You like your words, right? I have one I want you to remember. Can you do that for me?”

When she nodded, Avery gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Abdicate. It means to renounce, or give something up. I want you to remember that word, because you have a long time before you need to make the choice, but I want you to know that you have the choice - but abdicate is the word we use for saying we don’t want the title. It means you give it up to the next person, and they get to decide what to do. Your uncle Ualan probably abdicated - you’d have to check, but if he's older, it’s what makes sense - and I know your Aunt Grace and Cameron did. And I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you this, but you’re right, it is your life, and you deserved to know. I know it’s a lot to take in, but I hope that knowing all the options means you can make the right decision later, when the time comes, because you deserve that much. Okay?”

She sniffled quietly, rolling her lip between her teeth, the simple white kerchief twisting between her hands as Avery leaned back to get a better look at her face.

“Do you want to go find your mother?”

“No.” Catriona murmured, their grip almost white knuckled on the kerchief in question. “I don’t want to ruin her day. She’ll get upset.”

The ‘with me’ was unspoken, but Avery seemed to notice, brow creasing as their gaze fell to her tight hands and gently laid a hand over hers to try and ease the tension there.

“What about your grandmother? I saw Myrna just before I came out, she was speaking with the Lord Consort Griogal, so she shouldn’t be hard to find given he’s wearing something of a peacock blue today -”

“I don’t want to go inside.” Catriona blurted out. “I...I’m sorry, Baronet, I shouldn’t ask you to -”

“Avery.” They squeezed her hand again, this time a little more firmly - not harshly, or painfully, but enough to make her look them in the eye as they gave her a comforting smile. “You’re not asking the Baronet to do anything. You’re asking your friend’s parent for help, and that’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do. Would you like me to ask your grandmother to come outside?”

The child nodded, and Avery stood up, ruffling her hair gently before they stepped down onto the path again.

“Stay here, sweetheart, it’ll be easier for her to find you that way. Shouldn’t be long.”

As Avery began the trek back to the great hall, they couldn’t help but glance back, watching Catriona slump against the rails along the gazebo steps and picking up the pace to cross the stones a little quicker.

* * * * *

Once Myrna had slipped from the great hall, Avery couldn’t help but drift toward the broad windows overlooking the garden, following the small shape of the older woman until she came within sight of the gazebo and Catriona’s even smaller form leapt up and raced to meet her halfway. Myrna scooped her up and carried her further into the garden - and Avery found themself staring at the point where they disappeared, away from the gazebo and away from the castle to somewhere unknown. They were only broken from their reverie when arms wrapped around their waist, and had it not been such a familiar

“Hello, darling.” Rima murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of their shoulder and lacing her fingers together over Avery’s abdomen. “You were gone for a while. Did you get lost in the gardens?”

“No, I was talking to Senga’s bairn. She wants Edrine to visit when they feel better.”

“Well, hopefully it’s soon.” Rima hummed softly, pressing her cheek to Avery’s back and giving them a squeeze as the music in the hall shifted to a new melody. “We should probably stop in Rosafearn before we travel home. They’ve got the candies Edie likes in one of the shops down there, it might cheer them up about missing the party.”

When Avery didn’t reply, Rima frowned, slipping around their side and tucking herself under her partner’s arm to get a better look at their face.

“What’s wrong, Ave? You have that...face.”

Avery chuckled, turning their head to kiss Rima’s temple. “What face? You like my face.”

“I do like your face, but this is the ‘I’m having a crisis and maybe my dear wife can help’ face, and I am the dear wife.” She smiled cheekily as she pinched their side, glancing out the window briefly to see if she could find what they were fixated on and coming up with nothing. “Spill, spouse.”

After a few beats of pause, Avery sighed, leaning their cheek against Rima’s forehead and closing their eyes. “How much do you know about Senga?”

“Not much, she’s a little more than simply closed off. New Baroness, obviously. If you want to know about her, you might have better luck with Myrna or her husband. Or maybe Malvina, if you’re wondering about politics.”

“Mm. I thought so. Perhaps we should invite Myrna to stay with us again. I have questions, but...I’m not sure I should ask Senga, or I might make something worse.”

Rima pulled back slightly, brows furrowing and earrings tinkling as she tilted her head in curiosity. The wordless question made her spouse nod, glancing around to make sure they had no eavesdroppers before they continued.

“Earlier, when I was talking to Catty...I mentioned that Edrine looks up to them because they’re in the same position. And she had absolutely no idea what I meant, but essentially I explained that I meant because they were both heirs, and she just...completely panicked. I think if I’d gone much further than I did she’d have a full panic attack right there in the garden.”

“She had no idea? We started talking to Edrine about it when they were eight for just that reason, so they weren’t blindsided by it.”

“Not a clue. And the way she reacted when I asked if she wanted her mother, it just…” Avery blew out a frustrated sigh. “Something doesn’t feel right, Rima, and I know it’s not my business, but -”

“If it were Edrine, you’d want someone to look out for them, too. I know.” Rising up on her toes, Rima kissed Avery’s cheek. “Myrna already asked to travel back through Ardaleith with us. Let’s get through the night, and tomorrow, we’ll figure out the next step.”

“Alright…alright.” Avery was quiet for a few moments before they spoke again, warm smile on their face. “What would I do without you?”

“Suffer, more than likely.” Rima lifted a hand as if to inspect her nails, her wedding bands flashing in the low light. “Or at the very least be bored out of your mind at formal functions. Admit it, I’m the life of the party no matter where I go.”

With a laugh, Avery pulled Rima into a tight embrace, ignoring her playful protests and peppering the top of her head with kisses before they set their chin on her head. Their gaze eventually drifted out the window again to the spot where Myrna and Catriona had disappeared, thinking of that white-knuckled grip she had had on the kerchief.

But she’d be okay. She had Myrna, now, and Avery couldn’t think of anyone the child would want more for comfort considering how close they were.

Avery just hoped Catriona would be okay long enough for them to do something.

#astoria fenharrow #today on i write fic and i want to beat up senga

12 notes · View notes

guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

---

Title (tentative): Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither. He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

#linzin #linzin fanfic #legend of korra #lin beifong #tenzin #jinora #ikki #mako #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip

51 notes · View notes

trh-thesussexes · 4 years

Photo

#Duchess of Sussex #Meghan Markle #bellaedit #royaltyedit #RCS20

676 notes · View notes

hearteyesbowen · 4 years

Text

breakdown ☆ ricky bowen

ricky and y/n are best friends, but when y/n is in need of a savior, ricky does what any other best friend with feelings towards the other would do.

warnings - fluff, slight angst, kinda long

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Come on, you know the second was the best movie!” Ricky argued.

“It’s good, but the third movie has some of the best songs.” You countered.

You and Ricky were best friends since fourth grade when you moved to his elementary school. Your earliest memory with him was when he pushed you on the swings when you were all alone. Through thick and thin, it was always you and Ricky (and Big Red, of course). You hated to admit that you managed to develop feelings for him, but you couldn’t control it.

When you both went to high school, you thought that things might be different. Maybe he would felt the same as you; you did both harmlessly flirt with each other for almost a year.

Then he dated Nini. Although you don’t hate her (in fact, you two are great friends), you couldn’t help but feel envy inside you since she asked him out before you could gain the courage to. Eventually they would break up during the summer after the whole Instagram video and summer camp. You two stayed up late to facetime or binge movies as he got over her, and a part of you thought maybe that spark you once had might light again.

“Maybe we should have another movie night. I can make those cookies you like and we can stay up all night.” He offered as you both walked to your lockers, conveniently next to each other.

“Maybe I would like that” You smiled.

He gave you a smile, making your heart melt.

You felt your phone buzz inside your pocket. You took it out and saw a message from your dad.

Come home immediately after school. If you go out anywhere you’ll be in more trouble.

Your face dropped. You tried to hide it as best as you could from your best friend, but you both knew it wouldn’t be that easy to hide such a large change in emotion.

“Hey, are you ok?” He asked worryingly. He placed his hands on your arms and stood extremely close to you. He wasn’t significantly tall, but he did tower over your shorter figure.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You spoke softly. You gave him a small smile.

He let out a small sigh, his hot breath fanning over you.

“Talk to me.” He demanded.

The bell for first period rings, signaling you to both go to class.

“I’ve got to head to class, Ricky. We can talk later” You said, breaking from his grasp and slowly walking backwards towards your class.

He was quick to grab your hand, pulling you back to him, your breath hitched in your throat.

You both stood especially close to each other. Your faces were only inches apart.

“I don’t want you to lie to me. What happened, Y/N?”

“We’ll be late to class” You mumbled.

“I don’t mind being late, now you’re going to tell me what’s wrong or I’ll be worrying about you until lunch.”

Your gaze was stuck on his eyes, a rich brown that became more glossy as he waited for you to respond. His cheeks had a faint flush of pink, and his lips seemed partially chapped.

“I’m fine.” You whispered. You managed to let go of his hand and quickly walk to your first period.

➢➣ ➢➣

Once the last bell rang, your heart started to race. Ricky had been texting you all day but you kept avoiding them. Even Big Red texted you, trying to see if you would answer him. You hid in the library where you knew Ricky would never think to find you during lunch, and intentionally took longer routes to your classes where you knew you would pass Ricky. You couldn’t handle talking to him about what’s been going on at home without breaking down. You couldn’t handle knowing what he would think of you being so vulnerable to him, you have never done that.

You shoved your chemistry notebook in your backpack and tried to speed walk out of the class without seeming suspicious.

Just as you exited the door, your face was met with a stronger body. You were slightly pushed back, and looked up to see the curly-haired beauty you had been trying to avoid.

You both looked at each other in awe, as if you hadn’t seen each other in years. You quickly pushed passed him and tried to leave school. You tried to take sharp turns and corners where Ricky would lose you, but he was smarter than that.

When you found the door that led to the back of the school, you thought you were safe from him, but you were quickly grabbed and pulled into the janitor’s closet.

“Ricky! Are you out of your mind?” You screamed.

“Nice to see you too, babe.” He mumbled.

Your cheeks heated up at his nickname. You never got used to him calling you babe.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s wrong, because clearly it must be important if you can’t even text me back.”

“You’re being a child.” You spat. He stood very close to you again, and you couldn’t help but stare at his pink lips. and if you weren’t going crazy right now you thought that he was going the same to you.

“The only immature one is you.” He argued.

“I really need to go home, Ricky. My dad will get mad if I’m not home in ten minutes.” You pleaded, trying to reach for the door handle but be blocked by his strong figure.

His face softened when you mentioned your dad. Although you never really liked to talk about your home life, he always knew you were terrified of your dad. He also knew that you mother was never in the picture, leaving you and your dad when you were two years old. It explained why your dad was so strict, but didn’t justify it.

He grabbed your arms and put them around his neck as he went to wrap his own around your waist, pulling you into a soft hug. You let out a small breath and hugged tighter, wanting the moment to last.

“Text me when you get home, ok? Drive safely, and if you need me, just text me. I can be at your house in no less than five minutes.” He mumbled softly.

You simply nodded your head, trying not to speak knowing you would only cry.

He let you go and you quickly grabbed the door handle and sprinted to your car.

➢➣ ➢➣

As you pulled into your driveway, you could practically imagine the conversation you and your dad would have.

You pushed your keys in the lock and opened the door, placing your keys on the small porcelain plate in the center of your coffee table.

You sighed and slowly walked to the kitchen, weary of how angry your father might be once he sees you.

You enter the kitchen and see him sitting on the dining table, a small white cup of coffee in his hand and he scrolled on his phone. You gently pull out a chair next to him and sit down, your legs slightly shaking at the anticipation.

“Hi dad, what happened?” You asked frightfully, your fingers playing around with the bracelet Ricky had given you for your birthday.

“Why does your report card say you have two c’s? I told you that if you don’t focus on school then you can’t go to a good college. I can’t have you become a disappointment to this family like I fear you will be.” He explained in an angry tone.

You sat shocked. You always questioned why you always suffered to try and make your dad proud but nothing ever worked. A part of you snapped, and you sat up straight, ready to argue with your dad.

“I don’t get it.” You scoffed, “I do everything for you. I study for hours after school, I volunteer at schools and hospitals every free weekend I get, I bust my ass for you and nothing ever satisfies you. I’m fucking sick and tired of trying to please you when you are never happy for me. Have you ever been proud of me? Have you ever asked what I wanted? Do you even care about me or are you just trying to watch me explode?” You screamed at your dad.

Suddenly his whole demeanor changed. His face stayed monotone throughout your speech, making you scared.

“Go to your room. I don’t want to hear from you again until you learn to fix your attitude.” He said calmly.

You got up, tears burning down your cheeks, and ran to your room.

You slammed the door, locking it before you screamed. Your knees became weak, falling to the carpeted floor. All the pent up anger and sadness broke free, and you could do nothing but slam your fists on the ground.

You got up from the ground and slumped to your dresser, staring at the small picture frames you placed of you and your dad from years prior. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks, and the anger kept rising from your body. You quickly pushed the frames off the dresser and onto the floor as you continued to yell.

You did the same to any picture of him left hanging on your wall or taped to your mirrors. You were an absolute mess.

Suddenly you heard the repeated buzz from your phone, indicating you had a call.

Ricky 💕

You stared at the name and the photo showing as he called; it was when you went to Disneyland together for the first time, and he practically begged for you take a picture with him. You jumped on his back and he held your legs as he asked a random lady for her to take the picture.

You pressed the button that sent a prewritten text saying “Sorry, I can’t talk right now.” After the message was sent, you saw another text from you dad saying he had a call from work and he would be home later that night. You proceeded to throw your phone at the wall, climbed on top of your bed, bringing your legs to your chest and gazed at your destroyed room.

Ricky saw your text and instantly knew something was wrong. He was quick to grab his skateboard, yelling at his dad that he was going to visit you, and sped to your home as fast as he could.

He reached your driveway and kicked his skateboard to your yard, not caring if it were to get stolen or not. He grabbed his keychain and pulled out the key you had secretly given him for when he wanted to come over, and fumbled with the lock, trying to reach you.

He opened the door and quickly locked it. Immediately, he heard a faint sound of music coming from up the stairs of your house. He got even more worried when he knew you were playing your sad playlist and nearly tripped as he ran straight to your room.

“Y/N?” He screamed through the house.

He ran up the stairs, the music getting louder and louder. He got to your door and tried to turn the knob, but it was locked.

“Y/N open up! Don’t scare me like this babe!” He screamed through the door as he tried to push the for open.

You gave no response, nearly making his heart stop.

He got out his wallet and pulled out his i.d., sliding it through the slit of the door and forcing the door open.

He gasped as he saw you; blood-shot eyes, prominent eye bags, and your shaking figure on the floor.

You met his eyes, seeing the tears well up from trying to open the door. All you could do is let out another breakdown.

Ricky practically jumped onto the floor and grabbed your weak body, pulling you onto his lap, either of your legs around him. He tried his best not to squish you, knowing how fragile you might be right now, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved knowing you weren’t hurt.

“What happened? Why didn’t you just talk to me today? I shouldn’t have let you leave so easily. I’m so sorry Y/N I’m the worst best friend in the world.” He rambled. You could practically hear the cracking in his voice and the quivers in his words. He was almost as much of a mess as you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck like you did earlier in the janitor’s closet. He rubbed small circles on your back, kissing your head and you cheek, trying his best to calm you. He lightly rubbed the bottom of your ears, knowing how much it calmed you when you had anxiety. You tried to catch your breath and relax, and it was going well with how Ricky treated you.

Once he felt you calm down more, he moved his arms to under your legs and carry you to your bed, remaining in the same position as you were on the floor.

You couldn’t bare to look at him. You were so weak and vulnerable and you could only imagine he would pity you. He brought his hand to gently grab your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“What happened?” He asked, barely audible.

“My dad has just been giving me the most awful stress these past months and I can’t handle it anymore. All he does is set high expectations and expects me to achieve them but he doesn’t realize that I can’t handle all of it and I’m so tired of hearing him call me a disappointment.” You cried.

Ricky caressed your chin, grazing his thumb along your jawline. He tried his best to hold back his own tears, hoping to look strong for you. In reality, he was as broken as you.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to you to have to worry about me. I’ve always tried to stay tough for you when you needed me, but i can’t hold in these feelings anymore.” You cried.

You got up from his lap and stood on the floor. You paced around the room, trying to catch your breath and calm down. Ricky was quick to get up too.

“Everything is stressful, it’s all too much for me to-“

Ricky gently grabbed the sides of your cheeks, bringing you into a soft kiss.

You froze, surprised at the action.

He was quick to pull away, leaving you both speechless.

“I-I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t stop freaking out, I needed to shut you up.” He stuttered nervously, giving a small, scared laugh.

You glanced at his lips before leaning in again. Your hands snaked around his neck and his arms went to your waist, bringing you closer. Your hands moved to his cheeks, and you pulled away slowly.

“Shut up, Ricky.” You whispered, giving him a small smile,

He let out a breath of relief, “I’m here for you, ok? There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to let you feel so scared and depressed.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, gripping your waist tighter. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss. Your hands found his hair and softly tugged at his curls. He walked backwards until his legs hit your bed, making him sit down and bringing you along, straddling his waist. His hands went to your hips as you two continued your session.

You pulled away to look at him. His lips were a little swollen, matching the bright tint on his cheeks. His eyes were still red from the tears.

“I adore you, but I need to clean up this mess before my dad comes home.” You mumbled, twirling his hair around your finger.

“It’s a date.” He smiled.

A/N - hi !! this is my first imagine so go easy ! if u have any requests go ahead and send me some, i’ll try and get through them if i like them or if i even have time :)

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett #joshua basset oneshot #hsmtmts imagine

664 notes · View notes

theheartsmistakes · 4 years

Text

The Last Night Part XIII

More author’s Notes at the end because it may contain spoilers!

But if you’re just joining us... where the heck have you been?

Here are the previous parts vvv:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

They had moved Cordelia to the best guest room in the Institute, small but comfortably furnished with a narrow oak bed and a simple writing desk, but pleasantly decorated with blue striped wallpaper and flowery chintz curtains. A lace-skirted sink, with running water, occupied one corner, and a large window stood open to the night and the fragrance of the garden. In the distance, a shimmer of silver indicated the sun on the Thames.

James walked in carrying an impressive stack of literature he’d taken from the library under his arm and in his free hand he carried a lantern illuminated with the soft bluish glow of a witchlight. He saw Cordelia first, her red hair vibrant against the white pillow case. Color had returned to her skin and the thick black veins that ran underneath it were now gone. The thick top quilt was pulled up and tucked around her chest so that her shoulders and arms were out and rested by her sides. She was modestly covered by an ivory cotton gown. Every once in a while, her fingers would twitch against the fabric of the top quilt and it felt as if the weight of the stack of books weighed on James’s chest.

He set the books on the foot of the bed and sat on the wooden stool beside Cordelia. Wishing more than anything, that miraculously, she would open her eyes and turn towards him with a smile.

“Dickens, Chaucer, Wilde, Homer, Sophocles,” said Jem as he sifted through the books James had brought. “Interesting choices.”

“I brought things that might encourage her through the darkness,” said James.

“Nothing like a good epic to encourage one through dark times,” said Jem, as he set The Iliad back on the stack. “She was administered medicine not long ago, so she is peaceful and still, but do not be alarmed if she cries out. If she begins to sweat or claw at the blankets, come and find someone immediately. If you find yourself growing tired and in need of some rest, you will also need to find someone to take your place.”

James remembered his father and the fierce devotion he had shown his mother when she had fallen ill after transforming into her clockwork angel during the war. He never left her side, not even to eat or drink, or so James was told by relatives and maids. And any time Tessa would fall ill, succumb to an injury, or give birth, Will remained by her side until she made it back on her feet again. His parents remained his highest example of love and devotion. After nearly twenty years of marriage, they still seemed to illicit in one another the emotions of young love: a bit reckless, always public, possessive, but demure, and full of endless patience. James hoped to one day find a love as eternal as the one his parents shared, and he thought he had when he met Grace Blackthorn. To learn that his feelings were simply the product of an enchanted piece of jewelry left a sinking feeling in his chest. Not because of the loss, his feelings for Grace always felt burdened, troublesome, and lonely. He grieved for the love that had the potential to burn as brilliant as his parents.

A sharp pain burst across the center of James’s forehead. He leaned forward, his eyes shut tight, and tried to rub the pain away.

“James?” Jem came beside him and placed a light hand on his shoulder. “What is it? Are you all right?”

“Yes,” said James. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of head pain is all.”

“How long have you had it?”

“It comes and goes,” said James, and waved his Uncle’s concern away. “Thank you, Uncle Jem. For allowing me to be here with her.”

“It is what is best for Cordelia,” said Jem. “She needs the familiar voices of the people she is closest to in the world. Your sister was in here not long ago. While I admire Lucie for the incredible talent that she possesses, someone should warn her about her overuse of adverbs.”

“Are you volunteering?” asked James.

Jem scarred mouth twitched.

“Coward,” said James and turned to look at Cordelia. “Can she hear us talking? Even now?”

Jem nodded. “Yes, I believe she can.” Jem placed a hand on James’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “When I return to administer her medicine, I will bring you a vial for your headache. I’d also like to examine you tomorrow, to be sure it’s nothing serious.”

Jem left with a quick click of the door when it closed behind him. Now alone with Cordelia, James felt as awkward as he had when he was a fourteen year old school boy attempting to speak to his crush.

With a sigh, he moved the stool closer to Cordelia and the witchlight that flickered on the nightstand. Her fingers twitched against the bed cloth. He picked up the hand closest to him and held it in both of his. Her skin felt so soft. Had it always been so soft, he wondered. Memories of her finger tips grazing his skin in the orange light of the Whispering Room made his mouth run dry. Unsure what possessed him to do such a thing, he brought her hand up to his face and pressed his cheek into her cool palm.

“Daisy, my Daisy.” The name he’d given her didn’t seem to match her anymore, but there was a familiarity in it that he clung to. He hoped that maybe she could cling to it too. “If you’re able, will you grant me the smallest reassurance that you’re alright in there? When we were young, Math and I would communicate through small signals in class when our Instructor would be droning on about the history of runes, which I should have paid closer attention to, but my mind was otherwise detained on some personal dilemmas at the time… Forgive me, I’m rambling.” He brought her hand down.. “Squeeze my hand once if you can hear me?”

His eyes went to her face and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He waited for the coveted pressure of her fingers gripping his with the desperation of a sinner languishing for forgiveness.

When it never came, he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “That’s all right. Your focus should only be on healing. I brought some books to share with you. Personal favorites from the library that I thought you might enjoy. Mostly classics, because I thought you might like something familiar and those damned contemporary authors and their quest for enlightenment; squandering on about transcendentalism.

“I thought we could start with…” When he reached for his father’s beloved copy of Great Expectation, he caught a vibrant red leather bound book with gold lettering on the spine that glistened in the light beside the bed.

Layla and Majnun

He picked up the copy and stroked the letters with curiosity. He recalled Sona and Alastair calling Cordelia, Layla, but never understood the reference; being so enamored with another woman and his personal throes, he didn’t think to ask.

Cordelia expressed a desire to read it together some day, but under the circumstances, he didn’t think that she would mind.

James kept Cordelia’s hand in his own. With his spectacles perched on the end of his nose, he propped the book against his thighs and opened the cover and found a small inscription on the left hand corner. It read:

Dearest Layla,

I hope this book brings you pleasant company during your travels. You have always wondered and asked why I call you by the name that this most divine tale is titled after, this may bring you some clarity. Please believe that my absence from your life is in no shape your fault and do not burden yourself with trying to understand it. Please know and forever keep in your mind, that I love you and your brother and your mother. Nothing is forever, my darling, we will be together again.

Be omide khodâ,

Bâbâ

The words were slightly smudged in some spots, as if water had dropped onto the ink. The pages were all wrinkled and torn in some places. For a moment, it felt to James like he was opening something sacred: a journal, a personalized letter, a love note, but he couldn’t help himself from turning the page. He turned until he found where one should always start a new story— at the very beginning.

As he read, he smiled to himself when he approached the part about when Layla and Majnun first met. It reminded him something of the first time that he saw Cordelia. When he really saw her. Away from the blinding manacle around his wrist. She was beautiful, but more than that, she was pure light. When he approached a passage, his tone slowed:

[His soul was a mirror for Layla’s radiance: how could he keep such reflections to himself? She shone in him like the sun at noon in a cloudless sky: how could such light be concealed? How could he turn away, even for a second, from the only thing that gave meaning to his life? Kais’* heart was out of step with his reason, and however hard he tried to hide his love for Layla, he failed miserably. Without her, he felt the arrows of reproach from a thousand bows; without her, the pain of separation cut into his heart like a knife.]

When he finished reading it aloud, he felt the faintest flutter from Cordelia’s hand against his, and when he looked up, her mouth was slightly open. The book nearly tumbled out of his lap as he leaned closer to her.

“Cordelia?” He picked up her hand in both of his again and tightened his hold, bringing it to his chest. “Cordelia, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered back and forth underneath the hoods of her eyes.

“I’m here,” he whispered and climbed into the small space on the bed beside her. Carefully, he tucked her head underneath his chin and straightened the quilt around her again. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

___________________________

The cottage of Cecily and Gabriel Lightwood was a low, thatched building standing amid the fields in an arrangement of a perfectly tended garden. Ivy grew on the green-painted windows, and the eaves and the plastered walls. The front gate hung open, slightly distressed on its posts, and a bicycle lay carelessly toppled against the porch, where two large glazed pots, of the most intense blue, foamed with flowers in hues of Mediterranean pink, orange, and red. The cottage should have inspired only disdain for its tumbledown air, but instead Grace Blackthorn, who was raised to despise her adopted uncle and aunt, found it strangely romantic.

From the rough stones of a back hall, she emerged into the kitchen where a most egregious ruckus was coming. Since arriving at the Lightwood cottage, she’d spent most of her time either in the garden reading or in the kitchen talking to the housemaid who seemed to be the most interesting individual in the house and who didn’t seem to mind Grace’s presence especially after recent truths had risen to the surface like bloated dead fish. The kitchen was always orderly. On a wooden table in the center, a tea urn hissed above its small burner, a stack of old blue and white china teacups waited to be filled. A cake stand held an assortment of the usual small sandwiches and the plain rock cakes that were popular now. Only today, atop the counter, kneeled someone in tweed trousers, one leg bent on the counter and the other outstretched for balance as they reached for something in the cupboards above. She quickly recognized him as the young, illusive Christopher Lightwood.

She leaned her shoulder against the door frame and crossed her arms over her chest.

Since her arrival at the Lightwood’s, she’d rarely seen Christopher. They’d pass each other in the hallways or sit across from each other at meals, but he would be scribbling in a notebook, his face covered in some type of grime. She never attempted a conversation with him considering her relationship with his friend and cousin James. She had the impression that he didn’t care for her so much.

She could hear him whispering to himself. “Where are the damn tongs?”

“Bottom drawer,” said Grace, “to the left.”

There was a terrible clamber as Christopher looked over his shoulder at Grace, resulting in his leg slipping off of the counter. He reached for a ceramic bowl for stability but ended up taking the kitchen utensil down with him. She could not prevent a cry of fear as he hit his back upon the impact.

“Are you all right?” she cried as she ran around the wooden table. “I’m terribly sorry.”

His glasses were askew, as were the dark brown tendrils of hair that mirrored his father’s, fringed at the ends as if burnt. “Fine,” said Christopher after shaking ceramic out of his hair. “I’m fine.”

“Allow me to help you,” she said. Christopher, she had noticed, had the kindest eyes out of all of his friends. She reached her gloved hand out to him.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” said Christopher, not unkindly, but rather sheepishly. He grabbed a hold of the table’s edge and hoisted himself back to his feet. He brushed his hands off on his trousers, but seemed otherwise unscathed. “Sorry if I disturbed you. I was looking for the—“

“Tongs?” Grace pointed to the drawer by Christopher’s left hip. “They’re in the top drawer. And there is no need to apologize. I was the one who startled you.”

“Not at all.” He turned and opened the kitchen drawer, moved things around a bit, and finally retrieved the tongs from the far back. “A-ha!” He clapped them together several times. “Wonderful. Thank you. Our housemaid likes to hide them from me.”

“Why is that?”

“Possibly because I’ve melted the last several,” he said, and though she could not detect any note of humor, she couldn’t help but laugh into the back of her gloved hand. Christopher looked at her perplexed, his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

“Melted them?” she asked. “How on earth did you manage something like that?”

He examined the tongs in his hand. “Uh, it’s difficult to describe.”

“Could you show me?” she asked, shocked by her own bravery, or her desperation to escape her lonely isolation. “I’ve heard so much about your experiments and I really admired your discovery of the cure for demon poisoning.”

“I conduct most of my experiments in my Uncle Henry’s basement,” he said. “He’s not really my uncle, but I’m close enough to Matthew that he might as well be. I have a few experiments in my bedroom, but I don’t think that it would be appropriate for us to be alone in that regard.”

Grace hesitated, but there was no hint of condescension in Christopher’s tone, and his blunt face showed worry in a single vertical crease between his eyes. He was trying to treat her well. She understood that in the past couple of months, or years, she had lost some trust in how people would treat her. She blinked her eyes and nodded once without a word.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m embarrassed for suggesting it.”

“That’s quite all right,” he said, as he examined the tongs. “You must be terribly bored here.”

She was, but she felt it rude to say it. “It was very kind of your parents to allow me to stay in their home considering the grief my dear mother has brought to them.”

“Lucky for you my mother does not share my father’s grudges.” He meant it in fun, but he noticed the dubious look on her face. As she ran her finger through a spilt pile of flour on the counter, he wondered how all of the time he could have mistaken Grace for being so cold and plain when she looked saddened and lost. “Perhaps you could help me with something.”

Her gray eyes lit with curiosity. “With what?”

“I need an assistant to conduct one of my experiments,” said Christopher. “Since Thomas is spending time with his family after their recent loss and the four of us are not meant to be spending too much time together as punishment, but perhaps we can conduct some sort of arrangement for you to be my assistant of sorts. If it’s not too forward to ask.”

Grace fought to keep her emotions respectful, but inside she felt the quick bubble of anticipation that she had not felt in some time swell in her stomach. “As long as I wouldn’t be in the way and your comrades wouldn’t mind us spending the time together.”

“There’s no need for them to know,” said Christopher, straightening his glasses up higher on his nose making his eyes appear abnormally large. “Besides, they don’t seem to take much interest in my experiments anyway. Thomas is with his family. Matthew is under Charles’s watchful eyes, and James is—“ Christopher flushed.

“Is what?” she asked.

She already suspected that they all knew the truth behind the bracelet that she had given to James, but no one cared to ask for her side of the story. Why she did what she did? It was probably for the best. She wasn’t entirely sure she could tell them the truth of it anyway.

“James is with Cordelia.”

“It’s all right.” She pressed her lips together, and began to wonder if it was a mistake to have entered a conversation with him. “What I did was terrible and I won’t pretend to see it otherwise. I understand if you are disinclined to trust me.”

“Can I ask how you did it?” he asked. “How did you enchant the bracelet?”

The question took her off guard. Most people that have approached her with the question asked her why she felt the need to do it. James Herondale was more than inclined to give her his affections on his own; there was no need for an enchanted bracelet. Her answer was often some variation of the same lie.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t ask me that question,” she said. “Only because I cannot answer it. But would it help to know that it wasn’t me who did it?”

“It would,” said Christopher. “It does.

Grace folded her hands in front of her and felt a strange weight removed from her shoulders; grateful that while her truth remained hidden, some of it could be shared with someone else. And while she didn’t believe herself to be entirely innocent, there was some relief in not being entirely guilty either.

The housemaid entered through the swinging doors from the servant’s quarters, humming a Irish melody, which was cut short when she found the two of them in the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed as her watery eyes drifted down to the tongs in Christopher’s hands.

She switched her basket of fresh veggies over to her other hip. “Are you doing the cooking for supper tonight, boy, or are you just polishing the silver again?” she asked. “Because I know you’re not taking my good pair of tongs to use for your little experiments.”

(Author’s notes: Hello! Thank you for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you for indulging me through this quarantine while I pine and wait for Chain of Iron to be released. So a few things, I think everyone knew the book James reads to Cordelia would be Layla and Majnun... it would have been insulting if it was anything else. If you’re not familiar with the story (here is a link if you want to check out a preview), Majnun’s name at the beginning of the story is Kais. SPOILER: when Layla and Kais separate, he becomes mad with sadness and the town people call him Majnun, which means ‘madman’, so that’s why in the passage he is referred to as Kais... in case you were wondering. It’s such a beautiful story. I highly recommend everyone to read it. It gives me strong Romeo and Juliet vibes. There are so many variations of the story, but I really liked this one, and I believe it’s mostly accurate to the original source-- correct me if I’m wrong.

Also, I’m not sure where that Christopher and Grace scene came from. I wanted to experiment with their characters in a friendly way and I wasn’t mad at it, so I thought I’d share. There is a purpose for it in the story. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, if you liked it, please give it a heart, give me a follow, pop in with some comments about what you liked and even what you didn’t. I really appreciate you all. Next update will be Sunday, 7/26. Cordelia is waking up and things are about to get messy.)

68 notes · View notes

fundielicious-simblr · 3 years

Text

💕 Love Day Love Story Series 💕

(AN: These two have my entire heart 🥺 I also deviated from the original question format for this one because it was necessary for storytelling purposes - also, this one is LONGGGGG cause there was a helluva lot of information to tell, hence the deviation from the OG question format.)

Reece & Stacie

How did you meet?

[Reece] “I was really young when I realised my love of programming after volunteering to help with the A/V team one year at Family Bible Camp, when we got back I enrolled in a programming course through my home church. After certification I was able to take on jobs and help around more at camp, I even became the official family technician with my main job being installing and maintaining different censorship software onto our computers at home. At camp I was also made an official member of the A/V team, and helped out at the different, smaller conferences that my parents travelled to. I first met Stacie at a conference in Windenburg that my parents were speaking at, she was volunteering with both the admin team and the children’s program at the time. For me it definitely was an immediate crush, but I had to focus on my work at the conference meaning that we didn’t get much time to talk during the program itself, but I did snag a chance to meet her parents and introduce myself as they were talking to mine. I think my mother saw right through me, cause on the way home she was ‘informing me’ about the Shelton family; she’d heard that different members of their (very small) home-church and others in the area were praying for the father to get a job so that they wouldn’t be in so much financial distress, for her father to be guided so that he can lead their family back into harmony. Basically, the deal was that the family was struggling quite a bit, but I didn’t want to judge Stacie on her father’s actions since what I saw was all very good, so I convinced my parents to let me ask her dad to court her and they agreed - but if they felt the Lord was leading us elsewhere then they had the power to end it, we were both teenagers at the time so it made sense.”

[Stacie] “So, to be brutally honest, life at home growing up wasn’t so fun. Dad had a horrible gambling problem and so we struggled basically all the time, he wouldn’t allow my mother to get a job so she had to be creative with ways to make money by baking goods to sell, selling things she grew in our garden and other things so that bills (and various loan sharks) could be paid - all while homeschooling us because dad said so. We went to church every sunday where dad would put on this show that made it seem that everything was alright, when in reality he did everything that the pulpit preached against - he drank and smoked in addition to his gambling, and when he wasn’t at the bar he was at home yelling and just being plain mean. My sister and I would always volunteer at church events just so that we could be out of the house, and so when we heard about a conference being hosted by a local church we volunteered right away. I put my name in for the children’s program, but then I heard that the admin team needed help too so I volunteered there too, and that’s where I first met Reece. Whilst it’s probably every girl's dream to get married, if my father was to be the one picking my husband (the way he said he would) then I think I would’ve preferred to remain single, and my father was very big on us and “not besmirching his good name”, so my sister and I had little to no interactions with guys. Reece was so nice, and it definitely was an instant crush for me too, but everyone in the local area already knew about our family so I knew that the Collinses eventually be told, meaning that by the end of the conference Reece would want to have nothing to do with me.”

How did you end up courting?

[Reece] “The hard part was getting my parents to agree, the easy part was asking Stacie’s dad if I could get to know her more. He was all for it, but like my parents, he said that if he didn’t feel right about it then he had the power to veto. On the last day of the conference I got the chance to ask her dad if I could spend more time with her, and he agreed on the condition that there was no physical contact between us - I didn’t mind it, because at least he agreed. Since Windenburg is so far away, we had to really plan out trips to see each other, but we did start emailing each other and writing each other letters right away (which were read by both our parents, and we cc’d them in on the emails) When we did get to see one another (my parents had me pay for half of their airplane tickets), her sister always came as a chaperone meaning I didn’t need to bring my own [laughs]. Since Maggie started courting a bit before I did, we’d double date whenever Shane and Stacie were in town at the same time, which was fun as it gave Stacie a chance to get to know more people.”

[Stacie] “When Reece asked my dad if he could get to know me, my dad was ecstatic - the Collinses are so well known by everyone that he was over the moon to have a chance at being linked with their family. But he’s the kind of person that always needs to feel like he’s in control of the situation, so for the entirety of our courtship we couldn’t have any physical contact. I didn’t mind that though, the fact that Reece was such a nice person and actually wanted to get to know me meant that I’d agree to whatever my dad said (as if I had the option to disagree but anyway)

Ever since I was young I’ve loved being on the computer, our mother would take us to the library for our homeschool lessons that needed a computer, and every time I was allowed a turn on the computer it was so much fun. Volunteering at the admin office for the conference gave me a chance to use the computer too because we don’t have one at home, Reece telling me about his love of programming was like an answered prayer because then I could pick his brain for information about tech since I had no real way to access it. And what’s even better, is that he wasn’t even annoyed by it! Reece gladly told me everything I wanted to know, but we did have to wait for conversations in person since my dad didn’t think that a girl should be learning “useless things that won’t help you get a husband” - looking back at it, the irony in that statement is not lost on me.”

What was it like when you got engaged?

[R] “Eventually (not that long in reality) I realised that I loved Stacie, and that if we wanted the relationship to progress then the only was was marriage - not that I minded. One day when I was in Windenburg with my sister Zoe as chaperone, I sat down with Mr. Shelton and asked him if I could propose to Stacie, that’s when he told me that in their family, engagement was essentially a ceremony where you asked the girls father in front of everybody and he gave you the go ahead to put the ring on her finger, so we planned for it to happen at a dinner at my house with both of our families there. I had been hoping to propose while in Windenburg, so I had to rethink my plans, but i did manage to make it special for us. Whilst my parents raised me to be obedient to my elders, I realised a few weeks into our courtship that Stacie’s dad didn’t always have what was best for her in mind, she’d mentioned her parents relationship to me and told me that she’d always dreamed of having a proposal rather than the engagement ceremony - so that she could be the one to say yes herself rather than her father.

So, this next part of the story has a teeny tiny bit of deceit in it.

Since I was already there, I said bye to Mr Shelton to make him think I’d left and was on my way home, and by this time I already knew his evening schedule, meaning that he’d be heading out to the (what I now know to be) the bar and wouldn’t be back until late. I had Nina come out and light a lamp in their garden to let me know when it was clear to come back inside the house, so I went in and surprised Stacie when she was on the couch reading a book - I was able to propose to her in the way she had always dreamed of, and it was actually a surprise to her which I loved being able to do too. I couldn’t leave her with the ring because that would be a dead giveaway, but we did get to hold hands whilst I did the proposing which is something that we kept as ‘our secret’. Her mother then came in and said that I had to go because Mr Shelton sometimes had his ‘friends’ from the bar watch the house, and she didn’t want anything to jeopardise our relationship. I went home after, but I told my parents about the ‘engagement dinner’ and they were alright with it, so we went ahead and planned it. The dinner turned out okay, her dad gave us a one-off to hold hands in the moment which was great, but we knew we had the ‘real’ proposal to cherish in our hearts. Planning the wedding was done by my mother and sisters in collaboration with Stacie, her mother, and her sister. They did a great job I have to say, but you’ll forgive me if I was focused on something else [laughs]

[S] “Well, I’d explained to Reece the whole ‘engagement ceremony’ and how I wasn’t keen on it - the whole thing started with how my parents met and got married. My dad approached my grandfather (my mother’s father) about courting and then marrying my mother, and my grandpa accepted on her behalf. Whilst I recognised that I was under my father’s authority, I did want to at least be able to say yes to a proposal, which is something I communicated to Reece. What I didn’t know is that he’d actually manage to make it happen. He was in Windenburg for a visit and I thought he’d left to head home after saying his goodbyes to all of us at the house. My usual routine in the evenings when dad is out depends on what work I’m doing at the time, and on this specific night I was sitting on the couch reading a library book as I was trying to finish my schoolwork for winter break, when Reece walked in. I was surprised cause we’d already said bye and everything, so in my head I’m trying to draft the next email I would send him when he walks in and music starts playing in the background, he then sits next to me, and asks me:

“Remember how you said you wanted a proper proposal?”

And in my head I’m still trying to comprehend the fact that he was still here, so it took me a while to answer; he then grabs by hands (queue internal shrieking for joy), repeats it again and he says:

“Stacie, I asked your dad if I could marry you earlier today, but I wanted to ask you now before we meet at my house for dinner. So, Stacie Shelton, will you marry me?”

I turned to look around trying to confirm if I was seeing things, but when my mother and sister started mouthing at me to say yes is when I came back down to earth and said yes! I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I was speechless for a bit after; he put the ring on my finger to let me see how it looked (and whether it fit) but he obviously had to take it back with him so he could ‘officially’ give it to me later on. I couldn’t tell you what happened between that night and the engagement dinner, but I was riding an emotional high that nothing could phase me - I couldn’t show all my emotion though because I didn’t want to give away our secret to my dad. After the dinner we dove headfirst into getting me all done with school and wedding planning, and boy was it stressful. Even though went to a home-church, and have churches in our area that we could have used, my father saw this as his chance at the spotlight, so he insisted on us having the ceremony at this massive church in the (what I call) ‘rich people neighbourhood’. Reece’s dad knew people on the board for the church, so we were graciously allowed to use it, my dad was annoyingly determined to be involved with the wedding planning to add his own demands that it took everything in me not to melt into a puddle - but if it got me to the end of the aisle with a ring on my finger, I tried not to dwell on it too much. Our wedding was a magical day, even though a blizzard happened to rip through the city meaning that we couldn’t take any pictures outside, everything was a dream from beginning to end.”

How’s married life?

[Reece] “Well, it’s pretty different for the both of us. I work as a freelance programmer, so we moved to the city to be closer to job opportunities. It's great for us as we get to go to the same church as my aunt Harley and her husband, as well as Shane and Maggie, so we aren't lonely. When we were still courting, the subject of children came up, and we said that we’d be open to any that the Lord felt necessary to bless us with, but when we didn’t have children for the first year or so we decided to not wait around and be productive with our time. Stacie had mentioned always wanting to properly learn how to program, so she enrolled in a course and loved it. We were married for a while before Stacie got pregnant with Liam, so we got some time to ourselves before we expanded our family. It was when she got pregnant that we learnt that she needed injections twice a day, for every day of her pregnancy - it was definitely a steep learning curve as I learnt how to give her the shots she needed. Since the pregnancy was high risk I also evolved to become her nursemaid, I didn’t mind it though, gave us even more bonding time before the baby came and changed everything. I definitely didn’t think that this was going to be my future, but now all I can do is thank the Lord for his goodness and for my determination. I don’t even mind the bumps in the road, I’d do it all over again if it meant that I could marry Stacie at the end.”

[Stacie] “Everyday I wake up and thank the Lord for everything he’s done in my life, growing up we didn’t have much money to travel but now I live in the city and have seen more of the world, and I realise that I would never have this if Reece hadn’t thought to take a chance on me against all oddswhen I wasn’t even willing to give myself a chance. A while after we got married, I guess my father kept doing his thing - the drinking, smoking, gambling - and he wasn’t careful one night when walking home and fell into a frozen lake windenburg one night, and was unable to save himself. Whilst it’s sad that he’s gone, I won’t pretend that the lives of my mother and sister haven’t changed. Now that my mother doesn’t have to homeschool the both of us, she has so much more time for baking, and since we own our house she only needs to pay the mortgage and utilities, which is easier for her now that she doesn’t have several loans of my fathers’ to pay back. In the first few years of our marriage, Reece was gracious enough to pay for me to do a programming course, so I was able to do projects and send that money home to help them out. My sister Nina was able to save up and go to college, so she’s now working as a teacher at a local preschool after getting her degree in education. Getting pregnant with Liam revealed the need for daily injections, which were painful but I appreciated because they kept him safe and healthy whilst he was in my belly. The pregnancy also made me fall in love with Reece all over again, he was so eager to learn how to give me my shots, and basically banned me from doing any work that required me lifting more than a plate [laughs] He’d talk to me belly sometimes early in the morning when he didn’t think I was awake, and he was the one to bug me when it came time to decorate the nursery [giggles] He carved time out of his day to make sure I got the recommended amount of exercise every other day, and seeing him as a father shows me everyday that I am so blessed. I can’t wait to see what the rest of my life brings, as long as I’m with my boys I don’t think I’ll mind too much.”

14 notes · View notes

vanaera · 4 years

Text

Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them. For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

“Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

“Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

“Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

“And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

“First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

“Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

“In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

“And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

“But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

“What’s that got to do with this?!”

“—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

“Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

“Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

“That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

“Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

“That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

“Like what?”

“You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

“But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!”

“Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

“That’s science and faith!”

“Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

“Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

“No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

“Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

“According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.”

Y/N slaps his hand away.

Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.”

Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.”

Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

“Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

“No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

“You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

“I just decided I want to go home.”

“Why?”

Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

“Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

“It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

“Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

"Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

"I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

"But you already got lots of friends.”

Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.”

Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true.

Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

“Do-do you really mean that?”

Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

“Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

“No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

“It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said."

"But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

“If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures. Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

“Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

“Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

“No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right? I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

“Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

“Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures.

Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes.

Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

"And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

“Y/N, I like you.”

YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

“I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

“W-what?”

“I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

“Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today. And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it.

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

“No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“W-what is it?”

“I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

“What?”

“I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

“Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

“I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

“I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that.

Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

“Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

“No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

“Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

“I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

“H-Hobi–”

“S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

“Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

“What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be. How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

“No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere. In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

“Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well. He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

“Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

“It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

“What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

“Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

“Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

“But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

“W-what?”

Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

“Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

“Is it that bad?”

“Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

“I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

“When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

“I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

“No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life. Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

“You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering.

Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship.

Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”). Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day.

Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

“Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

“Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

“Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

“O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

“Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

“No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

“What plans?”

Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

“Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

“Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

“Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

“Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.” She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

“Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

But it does not.

For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar.

Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks.

She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

“W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

“R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.”

Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands.

Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color. Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss.

Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two.

And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time. After all, Hoseok is right. She is Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

335 notes · View notes