#then his unimpressed lil face at the end when he's the one who brought it up anyway baby you will always be famous | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

superfluouskeys · 3 months

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wip whenever ♥

Thank you so much to @myreia for the tag!

It is once again time to bother you with original thing! Up til now I've been posting pretty much sequential pieces but I'm skipping ahead a lil bit this time bc I'm way too excited about the Lore TM.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

It's been awhile since I bothered ppl so let's see I shall tag @eemamminy-art @delirious-comfort @quinnthebard @thepapernautilus @yourlocaldisneyvillain and anyone else who feels like sharing a wip!

===

At first glance, the town of Nodig does not appear so very different from Godsplace. It has the same small, crowded feeling and a similar sort of age-old architecture. But as they make their way into the little town, Tamsin quickly decides that two places could not be more different. There are streetlamps and shops, all of them well-lit and welcoming, and the streets are bustling with people even at this late hour. The people are happy, smiling and laughing and greeting one another as they pass, not huddled together with eyes downcast, afraid to be seen or heard.

The tavern, too, bears almost no resemblance to the one Tamsin knows. That place is well-known as the dominion of lechers and drunkards, not a place anyone who cares a whit for his reputation would like to be seen. This tavern is clean and well-tended, and there are a mix of men and women, most sat at tables and ensconced in their own private conversations. They barely take any notice when Althea and Tamsin enter. Nodig is used to travelers from all over the world.

The only person who takes any note of their arrival is the man standing behind the bar. He is grey-haired and nondescript, and he greets Althea with a curt nod of his head.

“I’ve brought an unexpected guest,” says Althea. “I hope it won’t be any trouble.”

“Of course not, Miss,” says the man with another nod. Then he disappears into the back room.

As the bartender leaves, a man sat at the far end of the bar turns on his stool to take a look at them. He speaks up in a clear, piercing voice.

“Unexpected guest?” he wonders. “Not a soon-to-be initiate?”

Although he is sitting down, he appears to be a slight man, and his sweater hangs loosely upon his shoulders. He has dark hair cut in a simple, clean style and wears thick, dark-rimmed glasses. He doesn’t look particularly young or old, but he lacks Althea’s gravitas.

Althea, for her part, seems markedly unimpressed. “Tamsin,” she says, her gaze fixed upon the wall somewhere behind the bar, “this is Vivius Moonbright.”

Tamsin looks from Althea back to the man, matching the name to the face.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” says Vivius, extending his hand in greeting.

Tamsin takes his hand. “Moonbright?” she repeats curiously. “Forgive me, but I’ve never heard a name like that.”

Vivius laughs good-naturedly. “Yes, it does sound rather frivolous around these parts,” he says. “And in most parts of the world, if I’m being honest. But in my homeland of Almyst such names are quite common, I assure you. Moonbright, Silvermist, Windsong, and so forth.”

Tamsin smiles. “They sound like names out of a heroic tale. What is it like there, in Almyst? Do you miss it?”

Vivius hums. His thoughtfulness strikes Tamsin as markedly different from Althea’s. It is bright and animated, like the overture to an old, favorite song. “It is beautiful there,” he begins. He gestures that Tamsin should sit, and retakes his own barstool next to her. “And the people are largely…how shall I say this? Good-hearted, to be certain, but decidedly serious. The nation has a difficult past, and its people reflect that, in some ways.” With a wink, he adds, “And let me tell you, they would not take kindly to any comments on their peculiar naming conventions.”

“Oh,” Tamsin flusters. “Forgive me, I meant no offense.”

“None taken, I assure you,” says Vivius, waving a hand dismissively. “And you, Tamsin? Where did our Keeper Althea find you?”

Tamsin glances nervously over her shoulder toward Althea, hoping for some guidance, but Althea is still pointedly ignoring them both. After all she has been through in recent memory, Tamsin is not inclined to trust in someone Althea doesn’t seem to like very much, even if he seems perfectly friendly. But Althea does not acknowledge her, and so Tamsin is forced to make up her own mind. She reasons that whence she hails is no great secret.

“Godsplace,” says Tamsin at last. “Have you heard of it?”

“Heard of it, yes,” says Vivius. Even when he speaks severely, there is a certain lightness to his voice. “Not for the best reasons, though. I’m sure it possesses many charms that go unreported.”

“Maybe,” says Tamsin charitably, but she labors to think of any at the moment.

“Not too sad to be taking your leave, I see?” Vivius observes.

“No,” Tamsin agrees with a self-effacing smile. But it feels wrong to speak ill of her homeland without some further explanation, and so she amends, “There’s…not really much left for me in Godsplace.”

“Ah,” says Vivius knowingly. “And so very much to be found for you at the Academy.”

Again Tamsin glances uncomfortably in Althea’s direction. “You know much about it?” she presses hesitantly. “The Academy?”

Perhaps it is her imagination, but Tamsin is sure she hears Althea let out a quiet, derisive scoff.

“Actually,” says Vivius, with the air of barely-contained excitement, “I am nearly as new to the Academy as you.”

Tamsin whirls around to face him fully. “I beg your pardon?”

Vivius ducks his head and shrugs sheepishly, the kind of affected modesty borne of one who is in truth quite proud of his achievements. But before he can say anything else, Althea cuts in coldly. “Don’t bother demonstrating. She can’t see.”

Both Vivius and Tamsin look up, surprised by her sudden interjection. Althea is still looking away from them.

Tamsin’s mind is slow to catch up. New to the Academy, demonstrating, can’t see— “You have the Gift?” she turns back to Vivius.

Her tone is perhaps more openly incredulous than she had intended, but the idea is something of an absurdity. She’s never heard of a man with magic. Why, the people of Godsplace would be in an uproar. She tries to imagine one of those gruesome scenes in the Town Square with the roles reversed, nonmagical women in official uniform dragging unwitting young men up onto the stage to put them to the flame. It would never happen.

Again Vivius shrugs good-naturedly. Tamsin begins to feel acutely embarrassed by her inexperience. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I don’t mean to be rude, really, it’s just that…” It’s just that where Tamsin comes from, women are put to the flame for witchcraft, a fate even the most dreadful man, someone a thousand times worse than Teddy Page, need never fear.

“It’s all right, Tamsin, I’m quite accustomed to the shock,” says Vivius, holding up his hands in a show of surrender. “Men who possess the Gift are exceedingly rare, but we do exist. As I would gladly demonstrate, but the Keeper informs me such a show would be lost on you for the moment.”

“Yes, what a shame,” says Althea icily. “One wonders why you ever left the Academy at all, Vivius, if you’re so fond of impressing wide-eyed idiots with parlor tricks.”

Tamsin winces at Althea’s cruelty, but Vivius seems remarkably unfazed. “Don’t mind the Keeper,” he says to Tamsin. “She’ll be a different person once she gets her meal.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” says Althea.

As if on cue, the bartender emerges from the back room balancing three large plates on his arm, all filled to overflowing with foods that are unrecognizable to Tamsin. She’s been so preoccupied, she barely even noticed her own hunger, but now her mouth waters, and her stomach aches.

The food is rich and heavy, not at all what Tamsin is used to. She cannot identify a single thing on her plate—even the type of grain is unknown to her. The meat is cooked in a way Tamsin could never have imagined—it seems to her to be covered in some sort of bread crumbs and cooked in a heavy oil. When she wonders aloud at this ingenuity, she draws both Vivius and the bartender into conversation with her, and they happily explain the origin and preparation of each of the unfamiliar foods, and many others besides.

Althea continues to ignore them. She eats her food at the other end of the bar in self-contained silence.

In spite of Althea’s coldness, Tamsin finds herself warming to Vivius. He is friendly and forthcoming, and he doesn’t answer her questions with long, weighty pauses or meandering riddles that aren’t really answers at all.

“Keeper Althea mentioned that there aren’t very many new students at the moment,” Tamsin prompts him, attempting to sound casual. To her left, she would swear she can almost feel Althea bristling, but Althea doesn’t say anything.

“Yes, well, it’s to be expected,” says Vivius.

“Why is that?”

“Well, because of the prophecy,” says Vivius, as though this should be obvious. He takes a bite, evidently unaware that this warrants any further explanation.

“Prophecy?” Tamsin echoes.

Vivius looks up mid-bite, his eyes rendered somewhat comically wide by the thick lenses of his glasses. He finishes his food and sputters, “Oh, goodness, forgive me, I really thought even the nonmagical knew about that.”

“Not me,” says Tamsin simply.

“Oh, well, uh—“ Vivius glances somewhat nervously toward Althea. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to explain it.”

When Althea remains steadfastly silent, Vivius amends, “But I’ll do my best.”

He puts down his fork and steeples his fingers while he thinks. “So, how to put this? I think I ought to start by saying that the average person cannot actually confirm whether the prophecy really exists.”

“It does,” says Althea quietly.

“Right,” Vivius falters, “as I’ve said, the average person. It’s important because interpretations vary widely the world over. And of course, like all prophecies, the actual contents are extremely vague and open to interpretation.”

“What are the actual contents?” Tamsin asks.

Again Vivius glances hopefully toward Althea, but she keeps her counsel.

“The story goes,” Vivius continues cautiously, “that a child born at the crossroads of time will set the darkness free of its shackles.”

A moment’s silence follows. “That’s it?” asks Tamsin.

Vivius nods. “That’s it.”

In spite of her stony silence, Tamsin glances back toward Althea. “But that’s hardly anything! That doesn’t answer my question at all!”

Vivius chuckles. “Yes, it is infuriating, isn’t it?”

“Why does that amount to no new students at the Academy?” Tamsin presses, not a little exasperated.

“Well, let’s break it down, shall we?” says Vivius, in the manner of a kindly schoolteacher. “What do you suppose qualifies as a ‘crossroads of time?’”

Tamsin balks at him for a long moment before she even deigns to consider what he has said. Nameless nobodies do not get much education in Godsplace, and it has been a long while since she was a student of anything.

“All right,” she sighs at last. “I don’t know. The start of a new year? The changing of an Era?”

Vivius nods. “Excellent guesses. Also the most common interpretation. Most people believe that this fabled child was born at the changing of the Era, perhaps even at the very turning of the year, right as the clock struck midnight. If so, how old would that child be now?”

“Sixteen,” Tamsin answers easily. The child would have been born in the same year as she. “But then how—“

“And what sort of person do you imagine could manage a feat like breaking the darkness free from its shackles? Someone ordinary?”

Tamsin falters. “Well, no, I suppose not.”

“Almost certainly one of the Gifted, yes?” Vivius nods.

“Sure,” says Tamsin. “But what does that even mean? Setting the darkness free and all that?”

“Now that explanation I shall leave to your teachers at the Academy,” Vivius laughs. “Suffice to say, there is darkness in this world, in a very literal sense. It is a kind of magic not so very different from your own Gift. Very powerful. But dangerous. Unpredictable. It is said that once the darkness finds you, you can never truly be free of it, even if you manage to resist its whispers all the days of your life.”

Tamsin shivers involuntarily.

“No one knows exactly what it means, setting the darkness free of its shackles. How could we? Scholars may theorize, but they are going off of next to nothing, little more than stories almost as old as time itself. But a world plunged into darkness does not sound very appealing on its face, now, does it?”

“Well, no,” says Tamsin uncertainly.

“As I’ve said, interpretations abound the world over, most of them probably wildly inaccurate. But nearly everyone agrees on one thing: the prophecy cannot come to pass. It would destroy the world as we know it.”

Such heady concepts are, for the moment, wholly beyond Tamsin’s comprehension. She is more focused on one simple matter. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she points out.

Vivius laughs, abashed. “No, I suppose I haven’t. There may be many reasons that so few young ladies of your age have made their way to the Academy. Many have likely been hunted down and killed, as, I’m given to understand, is the practice in Godsplace. Many, I expect, are in hiding, hesitant to submit themselves to the Academy’s scrutiny.”

Tamsin considers this, her mind reeling. “Because, what? What would happen? To this…person the prophecy speaks of?”

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” says Vivius with a shrug. “How can they know? Public opinion on the matter is not generous, to say the least.”

“Should I be worried, then?” Tamsin wonders. The idea had not occurred to her.

“Well, I don’t know,” says Vivius. “You were born at the changing of the Era, but when?”

Tamsin shrugs. “Sometime in the summer. I’m not sure exactly.”

Vivius nods, as if that is the end of it. “Well, then, it’s unlikely you’ll run into any problems at all. The prophecy is open to interpretation, of course, but these things tend toward the dramatic. To that end, perhaps we’ll start seeing more new students sooner than later, now that the timing is off.”

They fall into silence after that, Tamsin consumed by her thoughts, and the others concerned with their food. When they have all cleaned their plates, the bartender comes to collect them, and he tells Althea that he has prepared another room for Tamsin.

‘Wonderful,” says Althea, offering the bartender a smile and a nod as she accepts her keys. “Thank you.” For the first time since they arrived, she looks at Tamsin. “I’ll be turning in now. Shall I show you to your room?”

“All right,” says Tamsin, trying very hard not to scramble to her feet. “Good night, Vivius,” she says. “Will I see you again soon?”

“It’s been a pleasure, Tamsin,” says Vivius with a wave. “I’ll be heading out before dawn, but come and find me when you make your way to the Academy, won’t you?”

Tamsin nods, and she feels distinctly relieved to have at least one friend to look forward to at the mysterious Academy. She turns around to find that Althea has just barely waited for her, and quickly scrambles to follow Althea through a small doorway and up a narrow staircase. Outside, the moon is uncommonly bright, and it casts strange shadows through the open window. The stairs shift and creak ominously beneath her feet, and the banister feels ready to work itself loose.

When they reach the second floor, Tamsin dares to speak up. “May I ask you something?”

“You may,” says Althea.

“You don’t seem to like Vivius much,” says Tamsin.

Althea glances over her shoulder. “Is that a question?”

Tamsin averts her gaze, embarrassed. “Well, am I wrong?” she wonders self-consciously. “Why don’t you like him?”

Perhaps Tamsin could have anticipated the way Althea weighs her question with a heavy sigh. She stops in front of a door in the middle of the hallway and produces a key. She ushers Tamsin inside and closes the door behind them before she even begins to answer.

“It’s not exactly that I don’t like Vivius,” says Althea at last. “But have you ever in your life heard of a man with the Gift? Even in stories?”

“Well, no,” Tamsin admits. “It is strange to think of, but…”

“Strange, yes. Almost unheard of,” says Althea. “The thing that troubles me is that no one seems to know how it happens. I mentioned to you earlier that the Gift is hereditary? Not so with men, at least as far as anyone can tell. Which is not very far at all, since there are maybe a handful total, in all of history.”

“Even still,” says Tamsin hesitantly, “you make it sound like it’s his fault.”

“As I’ve said, I’ve nothing against Vivius specifically,” says Althea curtly. “But I do not trust his magic, nor do I support allowing a man into the Academy, no matter his talents. He could just as easily go across the water, where he would be welcomed.”

Tamsin considers this. “Do…others feel as you do?” she wonders. “Other Keepers, I mean?”

To her surprise, Althea chuckles. “You think my views are unusual?”

Tamsin averts her gaze. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”

“But you disagree.”

“Well.” Tamsin doesn’t know enough to agree or disagree. She likes Vivius, but she trusts Althea. She fiddles with the strap of her traveling bag.

“Opinions on the matter are mixed at the Academy,” Althea elaborates at last, with surprising good humor. “Which, as it happens, is another reason for my objection. Vivius’s mere presence at the Academy is the subject of endless debate, all of it a colossal waste of time. There are far more important matters.”

“Like the prophecy?” Tamsin wonders, before she has fully decided to speak.

Althea sighs. Again, she looks a little amused. “It’s not as though I’m keeping things from you on purpose, Tamsin,” she says. “There’s a lot to take in. And frankly, the prophecy is not the sort of thing a new initiate should be most worried about.”

Still, Tamsin cannot help but ask, “You said earlier that…that you know it’s real. You know it exists.”

“Yes, well,” Althea averts her gaze. “I am among the lucky few.” The light from the full moon catches in her eyes, and Tamsin is reminded of the way they glowed when she used her Gift.

Tamsin considers this. “Is that why you came to Godsplace?” she wonders.

Althea quirks a brow at her. “After a fashion,” she says.

“Is that why the burnings happen?” Tamsin presses. “Because of the prophecy?”

“Not exactly,” says Althea. “Godsplace has a long history of archaic practices. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the reason you’ve noticed them happening more frequently.”

“Then…” Again Tamsin fidgets uncomfortably with the strap of her bag. “Then there are people in Godsplace who know about it?” Could Bryce have known? Would he keep something like that from her?

“Perhaps. But this is all pure speculation, you understand. I came to Godsplace because I heard about the burnings and I had a feeling I should go and try to intervene. As it turned out, my feeling was about you.”

“Me?” Tamsin echoes, stunned.

“Well, yes,” says Althea, as though it were obvious. “Following my intuition led me right to you in your hour of need, after all. And I’d have allowed you to stay and say a proper farewell if I felt we had the time.”

“But…” Tamsin stammers. “But I thought you said you came to Godsplace because of the prophecy.”

“I did,” says Althea. “I’ve been traveling trying to find anyone who fits the description.”

“But I don’t fit the description,” says Tamsin.

Althea hums. “No, not exactly. Nevertheless, you are a Gifted who would likely have been put to the flame without my intervention. An equally worthy cause, I should think.”

Tamsin shivers. “But then…why are you looking for the prophecy?” she wonders. “What will you do?”

Althea considers this. “It’s more about what I will not do, if I’m being honest. Many would see the prophesied child dead, as if something so banal would put an end to all the world’s problems. If I can find her, I would spare her from that fate, and see that she is properly trained.”

“Why?” Tamsin asks. “Would it be better? Would that avert the prophecy?”

“I cannot know for certain,” says Althea. “In many ways I am as much in the dark as anyone else. But is it not better to try to avert such a prophecy with the power of reason? With information and preparation? Rather than expecting brute force to unmake the delicate weave of fate?”

Tamsin doesn’t know what to say to that.

“I would not see what is sure to be a talented young lady put to the flame before she can even realize her potential,” says Althea with a small smile. “And I mean that as much for you as I do for the prophesied child, whoever she may be. What happens after that is another matter, best left for when the time comes.”

Tamsin nods slowly. Perhaps Althea is right, after all, and she has asked for more knowledge than she is ready to handle. It is a lot to take in.

Althea pats her shoulder. “Get some rest, Tamsin.“

It is perhaps a mercy that Tamsin is so unfathomably tired. Her head is spinning, and on any other night, the brightness of the moon might have kept her awake thinking until her time for sleep had passed. But almost as soon as she lays down, she feels herself drifting off. In her dreams, she is being led into the Town Square all tied up with heavy rope, but she is not afraid. She knows the flame cannot touch her anymore.

#exciting tag for writing things #personal #now that i've kind of got the school trash fire under control im hoping i can devote some time to this again soon #i got a LOT done via nano even tho my life fell apart toward the end LOL #so school things notwithstanding hoping I can do the mini-nano thing that's soon to move my draft along a lil more #i'd like to be able to share it somewhere in an organized format while im working on it but *waves vaguely at everything*#so we are left with these extremely easy to navigate tumblr dot website posts

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Note

Promp idea: Jaskier finds a new born Griffin and Griffin thinks Jaskier is the mom. It starts to follow him. Like how hard it can be being a mother of a cute but deadly baby.

hello my dear <3 Ahh I am so so sorry it took me forever to get to this prompt! But better late than never, right? *laughs nervously*

word count: 1877

warnings: none

pairing: Geraskier, pre-relationship

AO3

---

Geralt spent more time than necessary brushing down Roach. If anyone had asked for the reason, he would have told a lie, or more likely just grunted noncommittally. Anything but tell the truth, which was that facing Roach allowed him to smile like an idiot without Jaskier seeing it. If the bard were to see that his ramblings made Geralt drop his mask of gruffness, Geralt would never hear the end of it.

“- really is heart-warming how much you care about Roach,” Jaskier said from where he said on the forest floor, something he would never have done when they had first met – or at least, he wouldn’t have done so without complaining about getting dirt on his breeches. “There’s nothing more charming than a man who takes care of animals, wouldn’t you agree?”

Geralt’s hand accidentally brushed against the braids Jaskier had plaited into Roach’s mane, while Geralt had been away on a hunt this morning. He faltered, but then he gripped the brush tighter, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t reacted to Jaskier’s words at all, when really, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier was right.

Each winter, when Eskel brought Lil’ Bleater inside the keep to make sure she wouldn’t be cold, Geralt would feel a new wave of affection for his brother. When he saw a pompous lord drop all decorum and posture to bend down to pet a cat, Geralt would feel an unreasonable sort of respect for the otherwise stuffy and unlikable noble.

And when Jaskier snuck Roach treats when he thought Geralt wasn’t looking, he – well. He was glad that his travel companion was someone who got along with Roach. Her liking him was the main reason why Geralt had let Jaskier travel with them. He couldn’t break Roach’s heart by making her leave one of the few friends she made on the Path. Empathy for Roach - that was all he felt as he thought of her and Jaskier together. Definitely.

“Say, Geralt, how would you feel about getting another pet? Hypothetically speaking.”

Geralt huffed, his lips twitching up.

“I have already enough work feeding and cleaning up after you, songbird.”

“Excuse me?” Geralt didn’t need to see Jaskier’s face to know his mouth was opened with indignation. “Well – I have enough work washing and brushing your hair. Between the two of us, you’re the one who gets muck everywhere, wolf.” There was a brief pause. “But…that means you wouldn’t want another pet?”

Geralt’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and finally gave up on his pretence of brushing Roach. He turned, carelessly tossing the brush to the bags sitting on the ground next to Jaskier.

“Careful!” Jaskier squealed.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calm down. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“Well, no, but –“ A strange noise coming from bags made Jaskier stiffen, his eyes widening, before his smile turned painfully artificial. “As I was saying, it is very rude of you to just throw-“

“Quiet,” Geralt hissed, his eyes not leaving the bags.

Jaskier shifted his weight on the ground and it was obvious he was avoiding looking at the bags. “Now really, I know you just love complaining about my voice, but –“

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s tone made Jaskier’s mouth snap shut.

For a moment, there was utter silence. Then the strange noise returned and the bags began to move.

With slow and silent steps, Geralt crept closer, praying that Jaskier wouldn’t panic and make any sudden movements that would startle whatever was lurking in their bags and make it attack the helpless bard.

With one hand, Geralt unsheathed his silver sword. The other hand he held up in a signal for Jaskier to remain calm.

Jaskier, of course took that as a sign to do the exact opposite. The spiking of his pulse and the sudden scent of nervousness hitting Geralt’s nose were the only warning Geralt got, before Jaskier jumped up. But the bard didn’t run away from the danger into the thicket or to hide behind Geralt. No. He stood in front of the bags, holding up his own hands defensively.

“Geralt, listen. I –“

“Get away from the bags,” Geralt growled, a sudden spike of fear piercing his chest at having Jaskier so close to that unknown thing.

Jaskier only shook his head, a look of determination crossing his face.

“No. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I…uh… might have acquired a pet? While you were off fighting…that ugly thing with the deadly teeth that I wasn’t allowed to get close to.”

Geralt halted, blinking.

“A pet?” he replied incredulously, lowering his sword.

Jaskier swallowed thickly, his eyes darting to the side, revealing that he was about to lie, even before he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. It’s a cat.”

“A cat.” Geralt repeated deadpan.

Whatever Jaskier saw on his face, he must take it as Geralt believing him, for his own expression flooded with relief. “Yes! A cat.”

“And you kept it hidden from me because…?”

“Because cats don’t like witchers! Or witchers don’t like cats. I’m still not sure about that. But anyway, I thought that maybe, if I got Daisy used to your smell first and talked to you–“

Daisy chose that moment to tumble out of the pile of bags, knocking her small head against Jaskier’s shins in the process.

Geralt and Jaskier both stared dumbly down at her. For once, Geralt was the one who found his voice first.

“A cat, huh?”

“Yes?” A furious blush rose in Jaskier’s cheeks. “In my defence, when I found her I did actually think she was a cat.”

Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, while the griffin-baby that could in no way be mistaken for a cat, began climbing Jaskier’s leg until Jaskier took mercy on her and lifted her up in his arms. He groaned with the effort. The griffin was nearly big enough to obscure the sight of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s nose scrunched up adorably – no, there was nothing adorable about an idiot who was snuggling a griffin-baby! – when the griffin’s fur tickled his nose.

“What the fuck made you think that was a cat? Was it the beak?” Geralt lifted a brow, shooting a pointed look at the wiggling beast. “Or maybe the wings?”

Jaskier gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. “It was dark in that cave you left me in! Not all of us have witcher-eyes. And she was alone and happy to keep me company while you were gone on your hunt.”

“Yes,” Geralt said slowly, so that Jaskier couldn’t possibly miss the ‘I-think-you’re-an-idiot’-tone of his voice. “I go on hunts. Where I kill monsters like her.”

Jaskier squawked in outrage, pressing the griffin protectively against his chest. The griffin made a noise not dissimilar to the one Jaskier had just made, but after the shock of being nearly squashed receded, the griffin snuggled contently against Jaskier, chewing happily on the fabric of his doublet.

“She is not a monster! Daisy is a baby and an adorable little darling that would never do anything wrong ever!”

The sound of fabric tearing and a triumphant griffin-shriek disproved Jaskier’s words instantly.

Geralt groaned. He did that far more often since he had started travelling with Jaskier. Life had been so much easier when it had been just him and Roach. No bard who had made it his life’s mission to get in as much easily avoidable trouble as possible.

Life had also been much more boring and lonely without Jaskier. Still.

“She won’t stay a baby forever. Give it two months and she will do more than just tear holes into your clothes.”

Jaskier’s face lit up. “So I can keep her for another two months?”

“I – that’s not – “

“Besides, did you just imply that Daisy tearing holes into my clothes isn’t a bad thing?”

Geralt didn’t dignify that with a response, which Jaskier apparently took as a victory on his side, for he came closer to Geralt, holding Daisy out to him.

“Look at her, Geralt. Look into these eyes and tell me, she isn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Geralt didn’t need to look at her to know that that was objectively untrue. It couldn’t be true, not while Jaskier was standing right in front of him. Still, he indulged Jaskier and reluctantly stared into the little monster’s eyes, glaring at her in the most intimidating way he could. His own eyes reflected back to him from the dark griffin eyes.

An excited noise that almost sounded like purring left the griffin and with her beak, she snapped at Geralt’s hair that had fallen into his face when he had bent down to look at her.

“She likes you!” Jaskier cooed, while Geralt quickly straightened his back and put some distance between his hair and the beak and claws of the griffin. Still, she tried to snatch the strands, not unlike a cat would. Alright, so maybe Jaskier had had a point with that comparison.

That didn’t change the fact that the bard was holding a damn griffin in his arms.

“She’s already practicing hunting,” Geralt said.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “She’s only playing. Tiny adorable griffins are allowed to play, aren’t they?”

“She won’t stay tiny! Don’t you listen to anything I told you about monsters?”

“Of course I do.” Jaskier lifted his chin in a challenge. “Which is why I know for a fact that we have to keep Daisy.” The narrowing of Jaskier’s eyes stood in stark contrast to the gentleness with which he stroked the griffin’s feathers and fur. “Griffins are reliant on their parents’ care until they learn how to fly. And!” Jaskier added, before Geralt could so much as open his mouth to protest, “You can’t leave me to take care of her on my own, because I also know that griffins mate for life and a griffin baby needs both parents to survive.”

A triumphant grin spread across Jaskier’s lips.

Geralt’s brows drew together. “I am not letting you rope me into becoming that griffin’s parent.”

Jaskier huffed. “Oh please, don’t be silly. Of course you’re not her second parent.”

Small mercies. Geralt was already about to release a sigh of relief, when Jaskier added, “That position’s already filled. Her other parent is Roach.”

And Roach, the traitor, took that as her cue to trod over to them and nose at the little creature in Jaskier’s arms that returned the mare’s greeting.

Geralt stared incredulously at the bard and Jaskier…Jaskier’s eyes softened as he watched that display. His fingers buried into the soft fur of the griffin and he pressed his cheek against the griffin’s head, nuzzling into her. He looked…happy.

Something twisted inside Geralt’s chest. He looked at Roach – a last hope of getting the moral support he needed to keep him from making a very very stupid decision.

But Roach payed him no attention. She huffed some warm breath into the griffin’s face, before nibbling on Jaskier’s already ruined doublet affectionately.

Just like that, Geralt’s fate was sealed. After all, Roach seemed to like Daisy and he couldn’t break her heart.

And…well, Jaskier had been right. There were few things more attractive than a man who liked animals.

#thank you for the prompt!#again sorry for the delay #prompt #my writing #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #roach #witcher #the witcher #fic #fanfic

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acciowests · 3 years

Note

For the Elucien Halloween au, could you please do one where Elain is helping Lucien put on his face paint for the night since they've decided to stay in and give out candy to the trick or treaters. And Elain makes a joke about how he should have dressed up as a giant pumpkin since it would match his hair. It also doesn't have to be smut! :)

just some fluff and a lil making out tehe, enjoy!!

Paints and Pumpkins

WORD COUNT: 1234

SUMMARY: It's Halloween night and Elain and Lucien are getting ready to hand out candies to hyped-up children. Only, Lucien is a little stubborn when it comes to his face paint and a little accident, while rather humorous, makes it worse.

"Lucien Vanserra," she cried, holding the paintbrush tightly in her hand. "If you move one more time I'll stop and you'll have a half-done face."

Elain had officially been trying to paint her fiancé's face for 45 minutes. It was Halloween, the artificial lamp light filling the room as she sat straddling his legs, eager to finish the skull face paint that matched his skeleton costume. He let out a sigh, smudging the black paint on his lips as he spoke, "I told you not to bother in the first place, kitty."

"Stop calling me that," she hissed, holding his jaw tightly with her other hand. "And you can't be a skeleton without the face to match so hold still."

Halloween wasn't her favourite holiday, not when there was Christmas and birthdays to celebrate, but since being with Lucien, she'd learned to love the spooky season. Their house was decked out properly in black and orange decorations: pumpkins, spiders, fake cobwebs and witch's cauldrons. They'd practically bought the whole Halloween section in Target. While Elain usually liked to dress up as a princess or mermaid (something overly feminine that made her older sister roll her eyes) she'd gone with a classic black cat this year—hence the nickname kitty which she already despised. She'd gotten the tight, black leather suit from Nesta, adding a tail and ears, and painting on the whiskers and nose. She'd gone for sexy, seeing as this was her first Halloween whilst engaged, but she'd ended up still looking rather innocent. Lucien hadn't seemed to mind though, had pressed a kiss to her hair and moved to slip into his costume for the evening.

"A skeleton is basic anyway, and I don't think kids care about face paint," he replied, remaining still despite his unimpressed tone.

With her sister heavy in her first pregnancy, the annual Halloween party that Feyre and her husband hosted had been cancelled. Elain had been more than happy to skip the night, but when Lucien had brought up his trick-or-treating idea, she couldn't say no. Not when they'd likely have tons of candy and chocolate leftover in the morning, plus she was excited to see all the children in their costumes. She was going to be an aunt soon after all.

"Of course they do, face paint is the coolest thing to them. They're going to love you, baby," she grinned, content in her work as she leaned back and added the finishing touches.

She'd painted his whole face white to match the bone colouring, adding black contour, blacked-out eyes and nose, and stitch-like marks across his lips and out slightly onto the cheeks. She grabbed two cans from her bag, one a black hair spray and the other dry shampoo. "Black or white hair?" she asked, setting the cans on the table behind them.

Lucien had already tied his long hair back into a tight bun. He settled his hands on her thighs, rubbing his large palms up them as he titled his head. "Black? It will hide my natural colour more."

She nodded in agreement, taking the hair spray and beginning to shake the can. She loved his red hair, the natural orange colour had been the first thing she'd noticed about him. She remembered wanting to run her fingers through it and considered herself lucky that she got to do it every day now.

"You know," she started, chest brushing his as she lent up close, holding one hand over his forehead so the spray wouldn't ruin the paint she'd just done. "You should have been a giant pumpkin for Halloween, you have the hair to match."

The house fell into silence, the subtle playing of a horror movie leaking from the front room being the only noise. She lent back slowly, looking down at her fiance who had raised his eyebrows and looked at her with such a grumpy face that she couldn't help but laugh. "What?" she giggled, beginning to spray the black into his hair.

He wrapped both arms around her waist, tugging her closer. "You think you're so funny, don't you?" he muttered, breath warm against her neck.

"I don't know what you mean," she grinned, happy he couldn't see the smug look on her face as she finished spraying, brushing some strands with her fingers and staining them black. "You'd make a very hot Jack-o'-lantern."

"That's it."

Before she could lean back and see what he'd meant by that, he'd stood up, her thighs slipping around his waist automatically as he lifted her. He simply turned before putting her back down, butt against the table as he pressed her gently against it. She dropped the spray from her hands with a small squeak as Lucien pressed his mouth to hers. She'd be more worried about the stain possibly on their floor if he hadn't brushed his warm tongue against her mouth, tasting the chocolate they had snacked on before getting ready.

"Lu," she muttered and wrapped her hands around his shoulders as he began to kiss down her neck. Her thigh wrapped around his back, feet rubbing his leg as he felt his way down to her hip. He had begun to unzip her suit, lips kissing the softness of her breasts when he looked up and laughter spilt uncontrollably from her.

His eyes went wide as he sat back, looking at her with utter confusion before he realised. She imagined her face somewhat matched his. Face paint was all good and well, that was until you smudged it. He slowly sat back completely, collapsing into the chair as she sat up, leaning on her palms. "I look ridiculous don't I?" he sighed, reaching for one of her hands.

"Afraid so, babe," Elain chuckled, giving him her hand, despite the black spray that was sure to transfer to his own hands. She now noticed the fingerprints she'd left along his neck and couldn't help but blush.

"All your hard work," he pouted, and she wanted nothing more than to squish his cheeks together. "We should wash this off before—"

The doorbell rang and the light laughter of kids flooded through the open porch window. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh and failing terribly. She slipped from the table, walking toward the front door and reaching for the pumpkin basket that held all their trick-or-treat snacks. "What are you doing?" Lucien whispered, coming up behind her.

"Our first trick-or-treaters of the night require their candy, dummy," she whispered back, reaching for the handle.

He pressed a palm against the door frame and circled the other around his face in question. She only smirked, leaning up close to brush a chaste kiss to his lips. "I thought kids didn't care about face paint," she replied with a wink, repeating the words he had said to her only moments ago.

After rolling his eyes, he stepped away with slight reluctance and turned as she opened up the door wide. Three kids stood on the step, their parents at the end of the driveway. There was a princess, the little girl adorable in her golden dress, and what seemed to be two knights on either side with cardboard swords on their backs. Lucien complimented their costumes and she offered them the basket, happier than ever that they hadn't just decided to spend the night in front of the tv.

* * *

if you want to be added to my acotar taglist just send me a dm or an ask!

@sjm-things @dayanna-hatter @anne-reads @sayosdreams @swankii-art-teacher @gracie-rosee @noorismee @anyblinding @story-scribbler

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #sarah j maas #sjm #writing #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elucien domestic #elucien au #elucien fluff #elucien fic #elain x lucien #lucien vanserra #request #prompt #halloween #elain archeron

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scorpiwrites · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 | 𝐽𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑂𝐶

Part 1 | Part 2

Desc: this part delves more into James n Scorpeia’s past, Lil mention of James n Lily’s life, Sirius and his gut feelings, Sirius being a grown-up (for once), and reactions to the letter.

Warnings: implied infidelity, a little language, mentions of panic attack, minor Lily bashing, dark thoughts, alcohol, drunk violence ( lmk if I’m missing anything )

A/N: I was not expecting to make the sequel of the parting letter but... I kinda like where it is going and one of y’all asked for this.

Let me just tell you that the timeline is a bit longer than the canon. So Harry’s birthdate is still following the canon, but the prophecy hasn’t been said, and I want to make Halloween’81 to be the day when Reg and Scorpi are doing the deed. I’m sorry for any misspellings, I’m still struggling with grammar and such for English isn’t my main language.

Taglist: @areomalfoy

It was just another day, James thought while his feet took him to his flat.

Godric, how did it got so messed up? He thought while his nimble fingers absentmindedly open the lock with muscle memories, his thoughts flying everywhere around his head, trying to figure out why,

Why?

Why wasn’t he at home with his wife?

Why?

Why did Lily do it?

Why?

Why did it not hurt enough?

Stumbling on his feet, he snapped himself out of the reverie and the dangerous parts of his brain. He sighed hard, screwed his eyes shut, and dragged his palm across his face. It has been a long year, and he’s so tired of the never-ending screw-ups in his life.

He went to the kitchen, silently thankful for his decision of keeping the flat clean and stocked up, and reached the fridge to take a couple of bottles of firewhiskey and took off to his study, not acknowledging that there was an owl perched on his window ledge, watching his every move.

Who

James abruptly stopped and swiveled around. He cocked his head to the side when he saw a familiar owl on his window. Eyes wide with recognition, it was like fuel burning in him and he sprinted to the owl, cannot wait to see what the owner has written to him.

Scorpi! Scorpi wrote to me!

He then couldn’t help but wonder — not for the first time— about her since they parted. It was a bittersweet goodbye, and he knew it was nobody’s fault but his.

He remembered the first time he saw her, she was sitting under the infamous raging whomping willow—what she did to the willow for it to stay still, he didn’t know— but what he did know is what she did to him, the feelings that were raging inside of him at the sight of her. He was 12, back then. Everything was so simple. Except, the girl that he fancied and sent longing looks to was a Slytherin. He contemplated this, maybe.... just...

maybe not all Slytherins are bad?

He remembered the euphoria of chasing her, the joy of being loved by her, the memories of being hers.

What he didn’t remember, was the catalyst of their downfall.

Was it the constant arguments?

Was it his possessiveness?

Was it the way he bullied her housemates?

But what he does remember was the feeling of elation and blurriness when he snogged Lily in an empty common room.

But what he does remember was her, walking into his common room with Remus, holding a basket of Honeydukes chocolates and the brightest smile on her face—only to freeze on the doorway, eyes zeroed to her boyfriend who was snogging another witch.

And that was 4 years of love, hope, and happiness went down the drain.

James rarely felt regret, but for the longest of time, all he felt these past few years was regret. And his thoughts were always filled with what-ifs...

The sudden pain he felt on his fingers brought him back to the letter in his hands, and an unimpressed look of an owl — Disha— who was waiting on her treats.

``'m sorry, my lady. Please tell Scorpi that I’ll write to her later “ the Myna bird only cocked her head and stared at him with a look that very resembled pity. But why?

After giving the treats, he walked slowly to his study, carefully eyeing the gentle penmanship. Why the sudden letter? His intrusive vile thoughts are jumping around his head as he grips the letter harder, the thought of something happening to her sets his magic off and he doesn’t like it one bit. As he sat down on an armchair, he was startled to notice that Disha didn’t go back to Scorpi, instead, she was perched on top of his coat rack. He took a deep breath and opened the letter.

—————————————————————

Sirius Black is a proud young man.

He’s proud of his job,

He’s proud of his reputation,

He’s proud of being a godfather of a cute little tyke,

And mostly, he’s proud of his intuition ( which never fails him, to the surprise of everyone who knows him).

Today has been an odd day for him. From the first second he opened his eyes, he felt heavy. With every step, every breath, and every muscle that he moved. It was heavy.

And the clench of his guts doesn’t help anything.

He contacted his family. James, Remus, Peter. Everyone is fine, hell, he even contacted Lily— which he was not close with— in the desperation of finding out what has been bothering him. He thought of contacting Regulus, but with the way they broke off any family ties the year before, he doubts that Regulus would answer his floo anyway.

For a while, he managed to ignore that heavy feeling on him and go on with his day. Worked here and there, apparating from house to house for new tips on death eaters, still, the feelings lingered in him. It was at the edge of the day when he felt the sinking feeling overwhelmed him— nearly swallowing him in whole. He stumbled to his feet, papers of reports and notes that he took today fell onto the cold tiles but he couldn’t care less. He just gotta know.

He raced to the floo, and with shaky hands managed to call him, the rising biles of guilt and anxiety manages to be broken by sheer needs to protect what was his,

no matter where they stand now.

—————————————————————

If anyone ever asks James if he ever took a swim in the Black Lake, he would’ve told them no.

But he could’ve sworn the cold that gripped right on his whole being right now would have surpassed that of the lake. He felt like he couldn't move. With his hand still gripping on the letter, he made an attempt to walk to the floo, only to fall on his knees from the amount of shaking his body made.

This is wrong, this shouldn't have happened. This is my fault. She was there with him because of me.

He managed to crawl his way to the fireplace in his study, reserved specifically for emergencies and connected only to several floo, including Scorpeia’s. Because that’s how it was supposed to be, isn't it? He and her. James and Scorpeia against the odds, “ ‘till forever falls apart.” he somberly whispered the password only he and Scorpeia knew. He waited with bated breath, sobs threatening to break out of the confines of his body but there was no answer, there was nobody home.

With his last clear memories, he remembered the way he slumped down the wall after taking his previously abandoned bottle of firewhisky and he remembered plunging the empty bottle to the wall across him, resulting in the blood prints that he left behind when he walked to snag more of said alcohol.

He did not understand why, then. He did not understand the way his heart broke at that moment. He did not understand why the thought of losing her forever hurts him more than the sight of his cheating wife. He did not understand the way his heart clench with the thought of never seeing her again,

What he did understand was that he never once swam in the Black Lake,

But at that moment, he felt like there was a force that tugged him down the cold lake and he couldn't breathe.

☼︎𝒇𝒊𝒏☼︎

#james potter angst #james potter x oc #James Potter #regulus black #regulus black x oc #sirius black angst #james potter imagine #regulus black imagine #marauders era oc #first wizarding war #scorpi.fic #scorpiwrites

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glacecakes · 3 years

Text

Slowly Led up From the Deep

Despite what anyone else (Lance) said, Eugene wasn’t a mother hen. He wasn’t! There was a distinct difference between being cautious and prepared for the worst due to living on the streets, and mother henning the shit out of everyone.

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian.

(Or: the Baron tries to kidnap Varian to get back at Eugene.)

Weeee another project! This one is a lil different tho Basically I have ideas for four (maybe more? Debating whether or not to expand to 7) angst oneshots with each oneshot pertaining to an element. So this is water, I have a plan for earth, air, fire if I decide to go thru with this. Poor Varian, sorry not sorry

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian. Following the events of… well, yknow, life , Eugene was a bit nervous about letting the kid out of his sight. After all, he got kidnapped, drugged, assaulted, imprisoned, and flung out a tower. And that was all in one day! So excuse him for being concerned about his friend's health. The guy had a death wish, and clearly someone had to watch over him or else he would die from falling, or forgetting to sleep, or setting himself on fire, and then Eugene would have a very angry beef-tittied man at his throat.

Since his redemption, Varian had quickly weaseled his way into the man’s heart, not unlike how Rapunzel did. He’d always wanted a younger sibling as a kid, and Varian fit the bill. His tiny frame and nervous demeanor made him a prime target for Eugene to try and instill life lessons into, no matter how much Varian protested. So long as he worked in the castle, Eugene saw to it that the kid got three square meals a day.

And when he’d failed to keep Varian safe...

Being trapped in unbreakable rock, helpless while Varian slid across the floor, the fading screams as he plummeted to what should’ve been his death…

Let’s just say Eugene has bolted awake to those sounds more than once.

And now he was Captain of the Guard, on top of being a big brother. Which meant that he had to oversee the Royal Alchemist’s (aka Varian’s) more… delicate experiments.

As of this moment, Varian was mixing a glowing red liquid, goggles pulled over his face. Eugene had tried to peer over his shoulder and watch, but the younger pushed him away, grumbling something about not spilling it all over.

Gloved hands wrapped around a pipette as he worked, mumbling scientific jargon under his breath. Rapunzel was able to follow along a lot better than he was, which meant Eugene had no clue what was going on.

“Hello, Allo, Varian?” He waved a hand in his face, startling Varian and nearly causing the liquid to slosh out its beaker. “Hi. Yea, I’m still here and I would like to know what’s going on.” He gave the kid an unimpressed eyebrow raise when he turned, sheepish. Clearly Varian forgot about his “lab partner”.

“Right, sorry.” Varian coughed, setting aside the pipette to hold up his substance. “So, the thing with the water tanks is that… they’re really hard to work on once they’re up and running. Right? You can’t exactly go into the tankers,” he snorted. “I mean, you could, but you’d boil alive.” His brows furrowed and he brought a free hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Actually, I don’t know what would happen… maybe…” His brain was off to the races, already miles away from the current conversation.

“Varian,” Eugene snapped, crossing his arms in frustration. Not that he didn’t want to be here, but he really didn’t want to hear about Varian’s new plan to throw someone into a vat of flynnolium to see if they’d survive. “Royal Engineer, more like Mad scientist.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Varian said, turning back to his lab table with a grin. “Aaaanyway, this stuff should, if my calculations are correct, and they are,” He added, knowing Eugene had already opened his mouth. “This stuff should dissolve stuff like rust, but only when exposed to water. So basically we’d just throw a vial of this into the tankers, wait a few minutes, and drain it. Then, tada! Sparkling clean tanks, good as new.” His voice floated with each step, bouncing around his workspace with eagerness and joy. Varian hummed under his breath, grabbing a pitcher and filling a small cup with water. Water from the nearly full pitcher sloshed around, nearly spilling onto the table as he sang along to the song in his head.

“Hey, kid, isn’t that the jug you use for drinking?” Eugene asked, walking over.

“Hmm?” Varian glanced back, not really caring, too in the zone. “So it is.”

“And it’s full, even though I gave it to you this morning?”

“Yeah?”

“Which would mean…” He circles his wrist, expectant gaze meeting Varian’s confused. The boy lifted up his goggles to reveal eyes bluer than any sky. “...That you haven’t had anything to drink?”

“I had some juice at lunch.” Varian said.

“That’s not the same.” Eugene responded.

Varian shot him an annoyed gaze. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?” He asked, a hand moving to lean on his desk. He missed, sending him stumbling, but he kept his gaze trained on Eugene.

Eugene simply hummed, walking over and plucking the red vial from it’s test tube. He placed it in his coat pocket. “Yea, we’re doing this now. No experimenting on that glass, you are to drink it right now.”

“What?” Varian’s face turned slightly green. “This thing hasn’t been properly washed in who knows when! I use it as my paint cup!” He gestured to the wall, covered in notes, writings, and the odd Rapunzel doodle. The one Varian was pointing to was a doodle of his pouty face, perfectly matching his current expression.

Eugene didn’t miss a beat. “Fine. Drink from the pitcher.”

“No!”

“Right now, chug it! Come on, you won’t do it, pussy.”

“I’m not going to chug it,” the alchemist pinched the bridge of his nose. “And didn’t Rapunzel tell you to stop calling people that?”

“No experimenting until you drink it. Captain’s orders.” Varian threw his arms up in frustration. “Why are you so against drinking right now? Come on, I know you’re thirsty!”

“I need the water for the experiment! If I drink it, I’ll have to get a refill!” Getting a refill meant going upstairs, disrupting his thought process and ruining the zone he had been in all day. It was hard to get into that state of absolute concentration, and leaving the lab would surely cause his bubble of productivity to pop.

“Oh no, a refill! The absolute horror!” Eugene fake gasped. The younger’s face burned red as his older friend draped his hand over his forehead in mock distress. “Whatever shall you do, cursed to go get some fresh air by… going upstairs!?”

Varian growled. He wasn’t going to win this argument, they’d had it often enough. But between his excitement over his invention, and Eugene’s teasing, and pulling rank… his ears burned as he took a long swig from the pitcher. He’d be dead before he told Eugene how soothing the cool water felt on his throat, how it spurred him to gulp down half of the pitcher in one go. “There.” He bit out, eyes narrow as daggers. “Are you happy?”

Eugene’s eyes, which had closed in his mock despair, opened to see the teen’s melancholy. Honestly, he was so moody over drinking water , it was ridiculous! All he was doing was making sure the kid didn’t die, oh how wicked of him.

“Yes, quite!” He grinned. “See, wasn’t that hard! I swear, you give me more grey hairs every day. How your dad kept you alive, I’ll never know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Varian asked, eyebrows raised in offense. Did Eugene not think he could handle himself?

“Well, y’know, the guy always ignored you for hours on end, the fact that you didn’t die of dehydration or starvation is a miracle,” Eugene snorted.

The atmosphere grew tense in a heartbeat. Varian froze where he stood, fingers outstretched towards the cup quickly retracting. "What did you just say?" Varian hissed, eyes narrowing as he turned.

“Just that your dad wasn’t there for you like I am.” Eugene couldn't stop the words that escaped his throat. Jealousy clawed at his mind, sinking sharp talons and cutting his common sense to ribbons. He’d been looking after Varian during his stays at the castle, both before and after he’d become Royal Engineer, and yet he was the bad guy here? He was the one who risked falling off a tower to crawl out to Varian while his dad, who was well versed in the moonstone, had decided he’d rather play with his pumpkins then get involved, despite his son being asked to translate a death spell.

“You did not just say that,” Varian growled, trying to keep himself in check. He hated getting mad, especially at his friends, seeing as he didn’t exactly have a good track record with it. “You did not just suggest that you’re better than my dad.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is that he literally let you cause earthquakes with no supervision when you were fourteen and then got mad when it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“At least my dad didn’t abandon me for three months.”

“At least I came to save you when Cass kidnapped you.”

Varian slammed his fists on the table. “Did you even tell him about that? Or did he not know I was missing, just assumed you were taking care of me until I came home with broken ribs!?” The alchemist whirled around, marching up and planting a finger on Eugene’s chest. “He thought you guys were keeping me safe, but no ! So what, now you’re trying to make up for it by breathing down my neck? I’m not a little kid, Eugene! It’s one thing to look out for me, but a whole other to smother me and insult my dad!”

The man huffed. “I’m not smothering you, I’m concerned for you! What reasonable parent is ok with their kid forgetting to eat or drink?”

"Well I’m sorry he trusts me to! You’re just a control freak who can’t accept that not everyone needs his input! You don’t trust my judgement at all!" The anger in Varian's eyes... Eugene hadn't seen it since the battle of Old Corona. He couldn’t stop himself from what came next; it was like a reflex, some leftover anger from before.

"WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU!?" Eugene screamed, before quickly covering his mouth in horror.

Varian's eyes widened, filling with tears. Then he carefully schooled his face back to impassive and cold.

Eugene faltered, guilt boiling red hot in his stomach. He really messed up, didn't he? It wasn't that he didn't trust Varian, far from it. From his sassy remarks to dorky antics, and the way he was so passionate about everything, it was clear that Varian put his heart and soul into everything he did, and he only shared that with the people he trusted. Eugene was honored to be one of those people. Now, he might have just lost that.

He trusted Varian with his life. But Varian's life? He couldn't trust anyone with that. It was too precious to him. He'd failed to protect Varian so many times, he just wanted to do it right from now on.

Eugene tried to reach out. "Kid, I didn't mean it like that," he began, but Varian ignored him. Instead, he shouldered past, marching up the stairs towards the main castle, pitcher in hand.

"I don't know, Eugene," Varian spat as he walked, words as bitter as the feeling in Eugene's gut. "Why should you? After all, I'm just a traitor to the crown. I could be a spy for the Baron or Saporia, you never know."

"Come on, I know that’s not true," Eugene stepped forward, moving to follow, but refrained. He could see the quaking of Varian’s shoulders, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him as well as he did. "Varian, you've come so far, you're an amazing kid, I just.."

Varian whirled around, showing that sure enough, his eyes were brimming with tears. "You just what? Fear me? Like everyone else? It's fine, go ahead! Just next time," he sniffled, brushing away an angry tear. "Next time, don't pretend to care. Don’t pretend that you are monitoring me just out of the goodness of your heart. Just treat me like the criminal you think I am.”

He left the lab, leaving Eugene alone with his still untested compound.

About a minute after Varian had stormed off, a guard poked his head in.

“Hey Captain… is now a bad time to tell you a prisoner escaped?”

He groaned.

You could practically see the steam coming out of Varian’s ears as he stomped through the castle, to the point that all the maids and guards gave him a wide berth. His cheeks puffed up as he stomped. Stupid Eugene, stupid pitcher, stupid rules, stupid stupid stupid!

“Ugh!” He cried, kicking at the ground and delighting in the scuffing noises. What did he know anyway? Varian was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he had been for years! He’d been fine on his own in the months he’d been abandoned, after all. He didn’t need Eugene then, and he didn’t need Eugene now.

Never mind the fact that his descent into madness had been because no one was there.

He burst into the supply closet with all the fury of a thousand suns, thankful that no one was in there at the moment. His hands shook as he placed the pitcher under the pump, letting out his frustration at each up and down motion of the lever.

“What does Eugene know,” Varian hissed. “He was on his own for-fucking-ever, and yet here he is thinking that I can’t handle myself? Says he doesn’t trust me to not die, I survived just fine without him!”

He was so focused on his task, on letting out his anger and ignoring the tears that fell into the pitcher, that he didn’t hear the muffled yelling, or the shuffle of guards, or even the heavy groaning of iron on wooden floors.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and Varian frowned. So much for being left alone. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face who he assumed was looking for him. For a moment, the only sound was the other party’s heavy breathing, and Varian’s sniffling.

“What do you want, Eugene?” He hissed. “Come to yell at me for not taking a break?”

The other person doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, a gruff, and decidedly not Eugene speaks. “Are you talking about Flynn Rider?”

Varian startles. He glances up to see the buffest man he’s ever seen (and considering his dad that’s saying a lot) is bent over, fiddling with something on his shoe.

“...yea. Eugene.” He says, turning back to the pitcher. Odd, no one in the castle called him that anymore. Maybe this guy was a visitor? A tourist who got lost? Ambassador, even? He wasn’t sure. Despite his technically high status, he wasn’t exactly welcome in court. Which meant he was often invited to royal balls only to not know a single person or anything about the current politics. It sucked.

There’s a clink as the man unlocks something. He smirks, turning back to where Varian is distracted. “So, you know him?”

“ Know him?” Varian scoffs. At the silence, he realizes the guy is serious. “Yea, I do. He’s annoying.”

“Tell me about it.” The man gruffs. Unfortunately for him (or, more accurately, unfortunately for Varian), the boy takes the invitation.

“He’s like a big brother to me, which is nice… except for the fact that he treats me like a baby brother instead of a younger one. Constantly hovering, always worried about me. I get that he means well,” he goes on, completely oblivious to how the man’s face lights up in a wicked grin, before shuffling around the closet, searching for rope and linen. “But god, it’s so frustrating when I’m trying to do something and he’s just yelling at me to take care of myself! He just wants to, to keep me locked away or something! And then today, he-he insulted my dad, tried to imply that my dad didn’t care. I get that to him it seems that way, since he’s only ever seen my dad a few times…” he let out a sigh. “I just… I appreciate what he’s doing, but he needs to chill.”

“I don’t know,” the man hums. “I’d argue he’d be valid to be concerned at this exact moment.”

Varian furrowed his brows, eyes glancing back and forth as he tried to make sense of the statement. “What does that…?” His eyes widened as the man turned around. Long blonde hair… rope in one hand… a ball and chain in another.

The Baron smirked.

Eugene kept a brisk pace, anger and annoyance growing by the second. Of course the one time he needed to be looking for Varian, he was stuck instead looking for a maniac. Leave it to Stan and Pete to mess up a prisoner transfer.

“Any sign?” He calls as he passes a guard, who turns to keep in step.

“No sir, but we have reason to suspect he hasn’t left the kingdom.”

“Good. I want all units on the lookout.” The guard saluted and ran off to execute. Their forces would be spread thin, but it was their best bet. He just hoped no one else would run into their convict.

Especially considering his past with the bastard.

No sooner does he make that wish, there’s a loud crash, akin to glass breaking, and a scream.

An all too familiar scream.

“No no no…” He breaks into a sprint, following the source of the noise. Please, for the love of god, let this not be the case. Let him be wrong, it’s just a scared maid, he just spooked him, let him be ok…!

He skids around the corner, and his heart stops dead in his chest.

Varian was strewn over the Baron’s shoulder, violently thrashing. His arms were bound behind his back, and a cloth tied into a gag over his mouth. Tears of desperation budded as his eyes were screwed shut. Strewn at his kidnapper’s feet were shards from a vase. Said man turned, and he saw how it was broken. Varian’s legs had been tied together, with one also chained to the iron ball that had been used to keep the Baron contained. A lot of good that did.

“How on earth are you still fighting?” The giant hissed. “That chain should keep your legs from moving!” Varian glared daggers down at his kidnapper, no doubt spitting fire through the cloth the likes of which would make Lance faint.

Eugene’s shock quickly morphed as he drew his sword with shaking hands and leveled a glare. He couldn’t protect Varian the last time he was kidnapped, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this time.

The Baron smirked. “Ah, Rider. How nice of you to join us.”

Varian’s eyes snapped open, trying to look over his shoulder to see his brother. Large, tear-filled eyes met dark brown in a silent plea. Their previous argument no longer mattered. All that mattered was keeping him safe.

“Let him go. Now.” Eugene’s voice was deadly level, no longer filled with its usual charm and life. “And maybe I’ll be lenient on your sentence.”

The baron hummed, readjusting Varian in his fireman’s carry. “I have an alternative idea. See, I know you, Rider. And I know how weak you are for your friends. Your family.” The last bit caused Eugene to briefly glance up at Varian, before returning his glare to the Baron. “You’re going to let me walk out these halls, and out of this kingdom.”

“And if I don’t?” He really didn’t want to ask, he knew the answer. But he needed to know. How much danger was Varian in? It was one thing to hurt Lance, an adult who already was disliked by the Baron. But an innocent kid…?

The Baron smirked. “Let’s find out, shall we?” With that, the man thrust his fist into the giant window beside him. Glass spewed from the wound, splinters causing both Varian and Eugene to flinch, the latter taking a step back. It was all the advantage the Baron needed, climbing out and into Corona’s sprawling streets.

“Fuck!” Eugene hissed, leaping after, but it was too late. The man had vanished into the maze. He only had one option left, he realized, his gaze turning to the mainland.

“I wasn’t planning on taking hostages, but you’re the Royal Engineer, hm? And Rider’s little brother. I’m sure I can fetch a pretty penny… though I’m not opposed to just killing you,” The Baron hummed, moving through the city’s alleys at a speed that really shouldn’t be possible when the man had a squirming teenager on his back. But the words had stunned Varian into submission, helpless to do anything but try and kick his chained leg. If he could just get the damned ball to move, he could potentially use it as a weapon.

Maybe then Eugene would actually trust him to take care of himself.

The main bridge was fast approaching, unguarded, with nothing stopping the criminal from making off with his prize. Wait… there! Straight ahead, a lampost. Varian didn’t need to move the ball, just get the chain stuck around it, and that should buy him some time!

Slowly, so as not to alert the Baron, he began to swing his leg, letting the ball’s momentum begin to carry. He couldn’t swing very much, its weight too much, but his timing was just right. The ball swung around the pole as they passed, hooking on. The Baron was not prepared for the jerk, and so he stumbled, Varian slipping down his grasp and tripping him further. He fell to the floor, grunting slightly in pain.

He only had one shot. If he didn’t get himself back up now , his attempt would fail. Nimble hands twisted around in his bonds, trying to slide out of the rope, but they were too tight.

Come on Varian, he thought to himself. Eugene taught you how to escape this stuff! Think! How do you get out of ropes?

His mind trailed to the post-Cassandra “Hostage 101” seminar Eugene had given (read: forced onto) him. Something about using your elbows to create a space in your wrists? No wait, that was for when your hands are in front of you! Gah!

Despite it all, Varian can’t help but let frustrated tears prick at his eyes, slicing down his cheek and cutting open his soul, leaving it raw, exposed to the elements, to this bastard. He couldn’t even get his binding undone! At least with his last kidnapping, he could not escape because it was literally unbreakable. Here, he was just too weak. Too naive. Too oblivious.

If Eugene was here, this wouldn’t be a problem. Eugene would never let anything bad happen to him on his watch, it was his job, after all. And he was damn good at it.

If only Varian hadn’t stormed off.

He squirmed forward, trying to drag himself away from the Baron and buy himself more time. But it didn’t work. The man grabbed onto the ball, and yanked hard , dragging the teen over rocks that slashed at his skin.

“I will admit, that is exactly what I should’ve expected from you,” he growled, his massive form towering over Varian. With one smooth motion, he hauled the alchemist up by his shirt collar, forcing their eyes to meet. “But you won’t get away that easily.”

“Neither will you!”

The Baron turned, a feral smirk crawling over his face as he saw Eugene’s panting form. “Rider. I thought I told you not to follow?” He clicked his tongue, more akin to scolding a small child.

Eugene didn’t back down, sword drawn and pointing straight at his prey. “Let him go. Now.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but an order.

The Baron raised an eyebrow, hand still tightly gripping Varian. “You took everything from me. My daughter, my legacy, my empire. You really think I should let him go?”

“He has nothing to do with any of that!” Eugene barked, protective rage racing through his veins and spitting out of his mouth like flames. “Release him. Or I will engage.”

The Baron teeth were bared, canines flashing. “Good.”

He turned and threw Varian off the bridge.

Time moved in slow motion. Wind whistled in Varian’s ears, ruffling his hair and sending it spiral above his head, filling his vision with raven edges. The sky seemed to shrink, growing farther and farther away.

Eugene’s horrified face from high above was the last thing he saw before he hit the water.

Water rushed up his unprepared nose, spilling into his soul as he choked and tried to spit and cough it out. But he couldn’t, gag remaining firmly in place. He thrashed, trying something, anything, to stop his rapid descent, but the heavy ball on his ankle prevented any success. Blue overtook his vision, rays of sun fading more and more along with his loss of oxygen. His ears ached with increasing pressure, more and more until finally the ball hit something, vibrations rocketing up his leg.

He tried desperately to think of something, anything that could help him, but as the fog of unconsciousness creeped ever closer, the haze growing stronger and stronger, all he could think of was Eugene .

It was his last thought before darkness overtook him.

“VARIAN!” Eugene shrieked, watching as his little brother hit the water with a splash . His horrified gaze whipped around to see the Baron calmly walking away. “Get back here!” He yelled, running forward with his sword prepared to strike the man down once and for all. It hit its target, slashing the Baron’s shirt open and his form onto the floor. Blow after blow, he whaled on the large man with fists so fast his enemy had no time to strike back. The Captain raised the sword with both hands on the hilt, preparing for the final strike in a fit of fury…

“Sure,” the Baron grinned through a split lip. “Kill me, go ahead. But you’ll be killing him too.”

Eugene froze mid air.

He had a choice to make.

He could fulfill his duty, keeping Corona safe… at the cost of his baby brother…

Just like during the blizzard, just like in the months after…

The Baron cackled, seeing the emotions flicker across Eugene’s face. “Tick tock, Rider!” He yelled, laughter ringing in the captain’s ears and drowning him in panic just like how Varian was drowning now-

He dropped his sword in horror, sprinting over to the bridge’s edge, barely able to make out a familiar shape down below.

There was no more hesitation; he dove straight down, teeth gritted as he took a deep breath and fell down into the murky abyss.

There was one small blessing, and that was that the bay wasn’t terribly deep. It didn’t exceed beyond 20 feet in depth, and while that wasn’t much, it was still enough to cause a problem when you’re fucking drowning .

His boots hit dirt level, eyes straining in the freshwater as he tried to make out Varian’s face. It was slack, no emotion, no open eyes… he was running out of time.

Think, Eugene, think! He’s dying! His panicked mind screeched. In theory, the gag and hands could wait, but the ball and chain needed to go. Where were his lock picks, he thought as he rifled through his pockets until he landed on a vial.

His eyes widened as he took it out, the red glow illuminating Varian’s rapidly paling face. Of course! The kid’s alchemy! Thank god he’d listened, god his brother was so smart!

Please, please work, he prayed, smashing the vial on the ankle chain, watching with delight as it dissolved like paper in water. Immediately, Varian started to float. His big brother wrapped his arms around him, pushing up off the floor to propel them to the surface.

He gasped, lungs aching as he treaded water, Varian’s head lolling against his chest as the captain struggled to keep them both afloat. Thankfully, the mainland was right by, and in no time he was pulling Varian onto a grassy bank.

He wasted no time, starting chest compressions the second they were both on shore. “Come on kid, come on, don’t die on me!” Eugene hissed, water dripping from his hair onto the teen’s face. “You survived fucking Zhan Tiri you do not get to die from this-”

He was cut off as Varian began to cough violently, rolling over onto his side as he threw up water. A soothing hand ran over Varian’s back, consoling him as the kid slowly came back to life.

Finally, he stopped gagging, only panting heavily as each breath felt like heaven. Clouded blue eyes glanced back at his savior, melting into relief when he saw who it was.

“Eugene,” he sighed, letting the older man pull him into a hug he quickly reciprocated.

“Fuck,” Eugene breathed, laying his chin on Varian’s head. “You ok, kid?”

“...I think I drank enough water for today.”

Eugene laughed, tightening his grip just a bit more. “Yea, ok, you got me there.”

The walk back to the castle was slow going. By the time they both got there, they were shivering like crazy, so much so that the maids took one look at them and tossed towels their way.

For now, they were settled in the infirmary, letting the doctors check Varian over to make sure he wasn’t at risk of secondary drowning. A fresh fire crackled nearby, permeating the room with a comfortable atmosphere as Varian laid his head on Eugene’s shoulder.

“Did…” Varian was the first to speak. “Did you catch the Baron…?”

“...No. He got away.” Eugene sighed, defeated. He was not looking forward to writing a report.

“I’m sorry,” Varian whispered.

“Don’t be.”

“But I am!” The teen leaned back, frustrated blue meeting confused brown. “If I had just remembered any of the stuff you taught me, I would’ve been able to escape on my own! I shouldn’t have to rely on you for everything…!” His face burned red at the admission, guilt overpowering.

Eugene frowned. “Hey, whoa. You were panicking, it’s ok to not remember! If you want a refresher I can give you one.” His eyes glanced elsewhere. “Or maybe. Someone else should. Don’t want me hovering after all.”

Varian was quiet for a moment, eyes looking anywhere but his brother as the words evaded him. “No. I… I don’t really mind hovering. Sometimes,” he added, holding a finger up. “Sometimes. It’s nice to remember you guys care. But… you need to trust me to not fall over at the smallest push.”

“You mean like this?” Eugene joked, poking Varian in the side, smirking when the kid leaned heavily and fell onto his back, resting against the cot.

“Not fair,” Varian grumbled, but sure enough, there was a small smile on his face. It faded slightly. “I’m sorry for blowing up. You were just trying to help.”

Eugene smiled, slightly pained, but still a smile. “Nah, I deserved it. I’m sorry for all the stuff I said, kid. You know I trust you with my life, right?”

Varian nodded, grabbing Eugene’s arm and pulling him down till he was resting beside the younger. “And I trust you with mine,” he said.

“Well, I would sure hope so.” Eugene snickered. “So, we good?”

“We're good.”

“Excellent. Now, I don’t know about you,” the man wrapped an arm around Varian, till he was resting his head against Eugene’s chest. “But I am exhausted. You exhaust me, you know that?”

“Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” Varian teased, but didn’t argue as his eyes slid shut.

“Grey hairs, Varian. Grey hairs.”

#varian #tangled the series #tts #tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #eugene fitzherbert #tts varian #tts eugene #team awesome

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bastardtetsu · 3 years

Text

{day 09} vanilla ice cream | tsukki x reader

pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, secret pen pal, mutual pining a lil bit?

wc: 1.5k

warnings: sick reader (hangover/cold), mention of drinking, some swearing, tsukki showing human empathy

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

somehow it all reminds me of doctor jekyll and mister hyde for right before my eyes, a man that i despise has turned into a man i like

—vanilla ice cream; she loves me (music by jerry bock, lyrics by sheldon harnick)

the first thing you notice as you wake up is your pounding headache. it’s hard to be surprised at your state after the amount of alcohol you consumed last night - not without good reason, of course. as awful as you’re feeling now, it’s nothing compared to the hell that was last night.

it wasn’t supposed to go like that - it was supposed to be a magical, maybe even romantic evening. you had been looking forward to meeting your mystery friend ever since the two of you started messaging each other online, but you hadn’t expected to develop a full-blown crush on this person without even finding out what they look like.

but the more you got to know their personality, exchanging playlists and talking about your similar tastes in music, the more your messages to each other became fonder, even flirty at times. perhaps it was the level of anonymity that made you both so comfortable talking to each other, but you quickly became each other’s most trusted confidants.

when you started working at the record store, things became a little more stressful as you adjusted to your schedule becoming tighter, having to handle the occasional nasty customer, and dealing with one coworker in particular who must have being rude to you written into his DNA. talking with your anonymous friend is a much-needed escape, a distraction from the mundane, a hidden treasure that only you get to enjoy.

so as you sat waiting in the cafe last night, a rose laid out on the table as you had promised your dear friend, nothing could’ve killed your vibe faster than the aforementioned rude coworker - tsukishima kei - showing up and ruining everything.

you could tell he was only there because you’d insisted on leaving work early to make this date, and he wanted to see if you were lying. he only proved his intentions more when he had the audacity to sit down at your table and make jabs at you for meeting up with someone you met online.

“you’ve been waiting an awful long time haven’t you?” he taunted.

“tsukki, if you don’t leave this table—“

“and you’ve never even met them? this is how people get murdered, you know,” he sneered condescendingly. you almost got thrown out because of how loudly you screamed at him. thankfully you didn’t - although you did seem to strike some nerves with tsukishima, which you felt a bit bad about - but even though you waited at the cafe until closing, nobody showed up, leaving you alone with a single rose and a full bottle of wine.

needless to say, you have every reason to feel like shit this morning. not only are you hungover and heartbroken, having heard nothing but radio silence from your friend, you’re starting to feel lightheaded and stuffy-nosed too. you waste no time calling in sick, burying yourself in your blankets as you try your best to shut out the pounding in your head and the salty tears beginning to sting the backs of your eyelids.

suddenly, a knock at the door jolts you back to reality. “who is it?” you call out weakly.

another knock. you drag yourself out of bed with a quiet groan and go to answer the door, only to be met with a familiar lanky blond.

“what do you want, tsukishima,” you demand dryly, “did you have something you forgot to say last night? if you do say it fast, i don’t feel well today.”

“yeah i know, you called out of work,” he replies ambivalently, “that’s why i’m here.”

“oh, so you’re here to check up on me again, make sure i’m not slacking off?” you taunt him, your temper rising.

“that’s not—“

“you gonna go back to work and tell everyone i’m lying? that i just don’t care about my job?”

“no i’m n—“

“well joke’s on you, four-eyes, ‘cause guess what? i’m not giving you the chance.” you immediately start gathering your belongings, preparing to go to work.

“what?”

“i won’t be that late,” you mumble to yourself, throwing a coat over your arm as you hurriedly grab your keys, “fuck— where the hell is my other shoe??”

“oi,” tsukishima says firmly, “y/n. you need to lie down.”

“fuck off,” you bite back at him.

“no seriously, you look like you have a fever.”

“i don’t care,” you snarl, “help me look for my shoe, i know it’s here somewhere—HEY!!!”

there’s not much you can do but continue screaming at him as tsukishima scoops you up in his scrawny arms - which are evidently way stronger than they look - and carries you to your bed, dumping you unceremoniously on top of the blankets.

“THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?” you shout. he just shrugs.

“what was i supposed to do? you wouldn’t get back in bed.” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. arrogant prick. you slump down into your blankets, feeling too depleted to pick a fight anymore.

“i brought you something.”

your head shoots up as a plastic grocery bag lands next to it. opening it up, you find a tub of vanilla ice cream inside. “it’s the best thing to eat when you’re sick,” he states.

“a-ah,” you stutter hesitantly, “thanks.” is tsukishima being… nice to you?

“did that uh… friend of yours ever show up?” he asks cautiously.

“no,” you mutter bitterly, “i waited til closing. guess you were right, meeting some stranger from the internet really was a stupid idea.”

“hm,” he grunts awkwardly, looking away from you.

“i mean,” you continue, “the least they could’ve done was give me some sort of explanation. instead they just fucking ghosted—“

“they didn’t ghost,” tsukishima interjects suddenly, almost defensive. “i mean— it hasn’t even been a day, they’ll probably hit you up later.”

“and how do you know?”

“because—“ he stops short, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “i saw the guy last night. on the way out of the cafe.”

“wait—what??” you exclaim, “you saw them? how do you know??”

“they were supposed to be holding a rose, right? like the one you had?”

“yeah— wait, how do you know about that?”

“it wasn’t hard to figure out. people usually don’t sit at cafes with loose flowers on the table unless it’s something dumb like that.”

“shut up, you wouldn’t know romance if it bit you in the ass,” you snap back, “so he’s a guy? what did he look like? did you talk to him? what did he say?”

“yeah, uh— he asked if i knew you,” tsukishima recounts, “and he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry for bailing, but something else came up.”

“anything else??” the eager glow in your eyes is suffocating as you stare him down, hungry for more details.

“yeah. he— he was kinda ugly.”

“…seriously?” you respond, half unimpressed with his attempt at a joke and half nervous that he isn’t joking at all.

“what, does that matter?” tsukishima replies mockingly, “i thought you liked him for his personality.”

“i do,” you jab, “and you know what, i don’t care what he looks like. and i certainly don’t care about what your salty ass thinks of him. i’m gonna message him right now, actually”

“have fun,” he says dismissively, turning to make his way out before pausing to pull a record from the vinyl collection on your shelf. “you like this album?”

“yeah, duh. it’s been one of my favorites for years.”

“huh. me too,” he replies, “it’s crazy how it stays with me. sometimes i swear i can hear it in my head while i’m asleep.”

“that’s funny,” you say, “my friend does the same thing. he hears it in his sleep.”

“heh. that is funny,” he mutters quietly as he turns to leave.

“tsukki—“ you stop him before he exits, “thanks for today. you’re not as awful as i thought.” a tentative smile graces your lips.

“whatever,” he mutters, quickly turning his face away from yours, “see you at work tomorrow.” as he retreats out the door, he prays you didn’t notice his blushing cheeks.

once tsukishima is out the door, you waste no time crafting a new message to your friend - but you find yourself struggling to piece together sentences as you snack on the ice cream tsukki brought you, the cold sensation easing your aching throat. was that really the same guy who’s been an asshole to you since the day you started working with him?

it’s incredible that the two of you even spent 2 minutes together without being at each other’s throats like usual, and even more so that someone as harsh and bitter as tsukishima would do something as kind as show up at your door with ice cream when you’re sick. he even said something to make you feel better - and it worked.

realizing that you’ve zoned out, you quickly snap your attention back to your message. but as you continue typing, you find your thoughts continually drifting back to the tall, bespectacled blond and his uncharacteristic kindness.

by the time you manage to write what you have to say and hit send, tsukishima is safely out of earshot when the new message pings on his phone.

he smiles and hopes that you figure it out soon, too.

a/n: i hope the ending for this one is clear addsdsdf,,,, i watched the entire roundabout she loves me revival to get inspired for this (and by get inspired i mean remember the plot details of she loves me bc i had only seen it once before lmao) tbh the narrative of this fic actually covers like 3 different songs, bc old musicals are weird and thought it was necessary to make looking for a shoe an entire number. anyways, all I have to offer you today is laura benanti being utter perfection and all of my love <3

taglist: @izagraceee @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp

#haikyuu!!#tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukki x reader #haikyuu x reader #25 days of ficmas #e writes #.txt

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teruthecreator · 4 years

Note

Hey... let’s play in the chaos Fitz space... I’m so curious how magic lessons with Festo would go now Fitz is aware of Chaos in relation to his magic...

anon idk what u were expecting when u sent this, but im sure it wasn’t a 1.7k drabble of fitzroy and festo having a lil chit-chat. that being said, though, this was incredibly fun to do so thanks for the suggestion!!!

_______________________________________________________________

“I don’t want magic lessons anymore,”

The question makes the fairy halt in their fluttering, staring at their pupil with a curious stare. Fitzroy hasn’t been the same since the centaur assignment, they knew that already. Word has made its way through the faculty about the barbarian’s outburst on the field; hushed whispers of concern that never seem to make it to either headmaster’s ears. Althea Song even came in to discuss with Festo about the future of Fitzroy’s lessons; what might be the safest approach to controlling his wild magic.

Festo is well aware, though, that “control” and “wild magic” tend to not mesh well.

This is the first time they’ve managed to get Fitzroy to come to a lesson since his return over a week ago. Usually they meet three to four times a week, practicing simple spells and focusing on how to channel the energy for larger ones. He used to be adamant on his distaste for magic, but after a while he began to warm up to the idea of understanding the arcane abilities he was granted. Snippers seemed to help with that warming, becoming less of a familiar and more of an emotional support crab when Fitzroy’s feelings would go haywire and seep into his magic. But, after the centaur assignment, they were advised to postpone a few of their lessons to give Fitzroy the space to recoup after being cursed (and whatever triggered his outburst).

After that grace period, though, Fitzroy just became a no-show. No matter how many cheerfully threatening letters Festo would send, Fitzroy never came to a lesson.

That is, until today, when they came into their class to find Fitzroy already seated in his usual spot; twiddling his thumbs anxiously as he looked down to the floor. Festo was hoping this meant Fitzroy was finally ready to get to work, but...it would seem that’s not the case.

“...Is this why you’ve been hiding from Festo?” The fairy asks, seating themselves atop a stack of books so they can face the half-elf properly. Fitzroy refuses to meet their gaze, nervously scratching his neck as he nods. “Ah...I see…You do not believe in Festo’s teachings.” Fitzroy perks up at that, turning to them and vehemently shaking his head.

“I-It’s not that, Festo, really! It’s just…” Fitzroy trails off, looking frustrated and caught between words. “I just...When I came to you first, Festo, it was because I didn’t know why I had been given my magics and, therefore, was unable to control the outbursts. O-Or, that’s why I felt these lessons were good--I know they’re required, given my schooling track, but--”

“--Festo gets your point.” Festo finishes, not wanting Fitzroy to get lost in the semantics before getting out what needs to be said. He nods his head bashfully and continues.

“Right, yes. B-But now that I...I feel like now--or, I know now why I have magic. When...When I got cursed? I-I, uh...I met someone…”

“You met Chaos, yes?” Festo asks, simply. Fitzroy buffers for a moment, mouth sputtering as he attempts to grapple with the knowledge, and Festo snickers. “Fitzroy, did you think Festo did not understand where your powers came from upon first meeting you?” Fitzroy’s cheeks are tinged red as he opens and closes his mouth to try and retort. “Festo knew your magic was wild from before Festo even saw you! There are not many schools of magic that manifest in catfish transformation.”

“I...suppose so. B-But Festo, if you knew where my magic came from this whole time, why did you never tell me anything?”

“Because you never asked!” Festo answers cheerfully. Their response makes Fitzroy’s shoulders sag as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Also, it would not have been wise of Festo to give you such an answer when you were first learning your magic. Knowledge is not always key to understanding.”

“I’d say it is!” Fitzroy bites back, his hand dropping from his face. “These powers were imparted on me to do evil, Festo! A deity has been watching over my every move, cheering me on whenever I goofed up severely and got people hurt!” The air begins to crackle with static electricity as Fitzroy gets riled up, anxiously running both hands through his hair and lodging them there.

“I ripped a man’s hand off, Festo! That’s fucked!! I struck fear into innocent bystanders! A-And the worst part of it is th-that...I didn’t feel bad for doing it! The hand part, at least--I felt awful once I noticed how everyone was...was looking at me like some sort of monster. It’s terrible! I can’t sleep because of it, I don’t have an appetite anymore because anything I look at just becomes a hand or a shitty magic apple, a-and I can’t...I won’t do magic anymore.” He looks to Festo pleadingly, hoping they see his anguish and understand. “I-I can’t even summon Snippers anymore because I’m paranoid about him being a direct line for Chaos to watch me mess up! I-I don’t--I don’t want my magic anymore, Festo.”

Festo sits there, watching as Fitzroy huffs and puffs on the verge of a meltdown. Then, after Fitzroy seems to have regained a little bit of his compuse, they get up and fly over to him, grabbing his right hand with both of theirs and flipping it over so it’s palm-side up.

“Make a flame for Festo,” they command, not even bothering to look up and see the utter confusion and hurt on their student’s face. “Just do it, it will be fine. Have faith in Festo.” Fitzroy sighs, deep and long, before shutting his eyes and concentrating. In a few short moments, a small blue flame appears in his hand. Festo makes an affirmative noise as they study the flame. “How did that feel for you to do?”

“Um...Fine? I guess?” Fitzroy replies, sounding unsure.

“It did not hurt?”

“No…”

“Did not feel forced out of you?”

“No.”

“You feel confident that it was by your will that this flame came to your hand?”

“Y-Yes, Festo, what does that--”

“Then you are fine!” Festo states matter-of-factly. They push Fitzroy’s palm closed, thus extinguishing the flame. “You should not feel worried about Chaos’s influence!” They look up in time to see Fitzroy’s eyebrows furrowing. “You said yourself that the magic felt natural to you--it was not forced out of your hand or influenced by a force that was not your own brain, yes?”

“R-Right…” Fitzroy responds. Festo flies up to his face and pokes their forehead with maybe a bit too much force than necessary. “Ow! What the heck, Festo!?”

“Your magic may have been bestowed upon you by a being of influence, but it is you who controls how that manifests.” Festo explains, suddenly sounding wiser than normal. “Chaos can only influence your magic if you let them; other than that, they cannot control how you choose to use the gift they gave you. From Festo’s experience, they actually hate doing that, so you should not worry about being ‘controlled’!” Fitzroy’s eyes widen and he guffaws for a moment.

“W-Wait, Festo, you’ve had experiences with Chaos?” Festo twirls around in a circle and giggles mischievously.

“Not in that way, silly! Fairies are creatures of unpredictability; Chaos is one of our patron deities! Festo has had quite a few communes with them in Festo’s lifetime!” Fitzroy’s face scrunches up in disgust at the implication of their first sentence, making Festo laugh again. “You were the one who said ‘experiences’, not Festo!”

“Right, but I was not implying you had sexual experiences with a deity, Festo. I really don’t want to be thinking about...really anything like that ever, thank you very much.”

“You brought up sexual! Not Festo!”

“Ahhh! I am covering my ears until this conversation ends!” Fitzroy screams as he slaps his hands over his ears. Festo rolls their eyes and kicks Fitzroy in the nose. “OW! Are you even allowed to hit a student?!”

“Festo has tenure, remember?” Festo chides, letting out a snarky “teehee” before flying a little further back so Fitzroy can look at them properly. “Now, do you still want to stop your lessons? Festo won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” Fitzroy stares for a long moment, brows furrowing once more as he thinks. He doesn’t think for too long before squaring his shoulders and sitting a little more confidently in his chair.

“Y’know what, Festo? I think...I think I’m going to keep at this magic thing! Show that Chaos who’s boss!” Fitzroy announces, his usual bravado back. Festo claps their hands as a shower of sparkles rains around them.

“Hooray! Festo is proud of you for conquering your fears!” Festo cheers, making Fitzroy flush a little with the praise. “Now, to make up for your missed lessons, Festo wants you to come here every day for the next two weeks after your classes! This is non-negotiable!” At this, Fitzroy deflates, just as Festo expected.

“Alright, I suppose I...deserve that for ghosting you for so long…” Fitzroy groans.

“Correct!” Festo chirps, causing Fitzroy to roll his eyes. “Now, to pick up where we left off, show Festo how you’re doing with Mage Hand…”

---

It’s later that night, when the school has settled and all the students have gone to bed, that Festo returns to their office. They pull a set of small candles from one of the drawers in their desk and lay them out in a pattern on the desk’s surface. With a flick of their wrists, the candles are lit in an iridescent flame, and they close their eyes to pray.

Coming to, they find themselves in a familiar woodland clearing, looking unimpressed at the figure seated across from them. The figure, on the other hand, looks positively delighted to see them.

“Festo does not want you meddling with Fitzroy anymore,” Festo says, their voice uncharacteristically serious. Chaos smiles and shakes their head.

You, of all the beings in my court, should know I cannot do that. They reply. I have a special mission in mind for him, and I do intend on seeing it through to the end~

Then, the wind blows, and Festo wakes up back in their office in a circle of smoking candles. With a sigh, they put the extinguished candles away and leave.

Futile as it seems, Festo is determined to give Fitzroy control over his powers, Chaos be damned.

#taz graduation #taz grad spoilers #(kinda)#taz fitzroy #taz festo #taz chaos #taz sir fitzroy maplecourt #sir fitzroy maplecourt #festo #chaos #ignorance cloud on #this was really fun to do anon!!! thanks!!#i forgot how fun doing requests were yall should send in some if the spirit moves u

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daemour · 3 years

Text

Title: Find You

Genre: Angst, Fluff, a ‘lil Smut

Pairing: Jinyoung x Jaebeom, minor Jinyoung x Youngjae, for 5 seconds a side of Ten x Yugyeom

Summary: Jinyoung’s kinda a dumbass. Jaebeom’s even more of a dumbass, but he’s also kind of an asshole (in the best way possible.)

Warnings: Jinyoung suxxs a dick; the smut scene is just under 600 words out of 13k

Word count: 13482

CRIS CRIS CRIS @limjaeseven I LOVE YOU!! thanks for all the stuff you do for me; i hope this can somehow repay it!! :)))))) love you broskiiiiiii lets hope for many great times~! also heres ur dumb gays :)))) <3333

I struggled with this A L O T so i hope you guys like it owo~

When Jinyoung walked out of his room and saw Jaebeom in the kitchen, that wasn’t unusual. The older one did tend to use the spare key whenever he didn’t want to cook. What was unusual, however, was the fact that Jaebeom had no shirt on.

As much as Jinyoung would like to ogle Jaebeom’s fine ass, he had more questions than wishes. “Hyung? What are you doing?” Jaebeom spun around, a sheepish smile on his face, and Jinyoung repeated the mantra, don’t look at tiddies, don’t look at tiddies over and over to himself. It’s a hard battle, and Jinyoung lost it almost immediately. Jaebeom was amused.

“My eyes are up here, Nyoungie. Not on my nipples.” Jinyoung would like the floor to swallow him up, please. “Anyways; I left my keys at home when I went to work, but I found your keys in my car. I left them in there by accident,” Jaebeom explained, laughing. “I borrowed your couch if that’s fine.”

Yes, that’s so fine. Always fine. You could even use my bed. With me still in it, of course. “Yeah, go ahead. Next time, just text me. I have your spare set of keys, remember?” Jaebeom’s mouth opened, and Jinyoung could tell he forgot.

“Yeah.” Jaebeom drew out the diphthong and smiled. “Do you want breakfast?”

“God, yes please,” Jinyoung groans. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. God, you’re literally the perfect boyfriend.”

Jaebeom offers a sheepish smile, leaning across the counter and poking Jinyoung in the cheek affectionately. “Not perfect, but I made rice pudding and toast.” He slid a plate across to Jinyoung, who thanked him gratefully. “I’ll be out of your hair then.” He started to leave when Jinyoung frowned.

“Where’s your shirt?”

Jaebeom shrugged.

“I don’t know; I think some girl at the club stole it when I spilt a drink on myself and went to wipe it off.” The older left without another word, and Jinyoung could feel his heart hurt. He forgot Jaebeom was painfully straight, and that he was painfully gay. He was once again reminded that his crush was indeed one-sided. And yes, his crush did just walk out of his door with no shirt on.

When Jinyoung used to think he was straight, he remembered feeling romantic feelings towards Jaebeom and passing it off as wanting to be best friends forever. And now that he knew for sure he’s into boys, he found out the hard way that best friends just wasn’t what he wanted to be. But that couldn’t be helped. Jaebeom would never want to be with him, and Jinyoung would just have to suffer.

Alas, he couldn’t wallow in self-pity today. His brother, Yugyeom, was flying in with his best friend BamBam, and Jinyoung had to go pick them up. He pulled on some clothes he knew would only just barely match, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door. He’s going to be early, so he would stop in a coffee shop near the airport and pick up some drinks.

The coffee shop, Ars Coffee, was busy, but not too busy that Jinyoung would be late, so he stepped in and waited in line. As he looked around the cute shop decorated in pictures of puppies and kittens, he noticed a corner of the shop that reminded him of the first time he had met Jaebeom. The older had been frantically studying and Jinyoung was hustling to find an open seat, tripping over Jaebeom’s backpack and landing in the older’s lap. The older had delivered the line, “you’re not my type, but nice ass,” and the two ended up talking until the shop closed. They exchanged numbers, and the rest was history.

However, Jinyoung was brought back to the present with an ‘ahem’ coming from behind the counter. It’s his turn to order. “Ah- yes, sorry. I’ll take a vanilla latte, an iced choco, and an iced Americano.” The barista laughed, his smile too wide for his face, and marked down the order.

“I hope all that isn’t for you. That’s a lot of sugar, not to mention caffeine.”

Jinyoung smiled back. “Who knows? I could be a college student frantically studying for last-minute exams.”

The barista, Youngjae judging by the nametag, laughed again. “The second semester just ended; you’d be on break. So I’ll just assume you’re apologising to your three girlfriends since they just found out you’ve been double- no, triple-timing them.”

“Boyfriends,” Jinyoung corrects without thinking, and then his head snapped up, eyes wide. “What I mean is- I don’t- I-”

Youngjae offered a sympathetic smile. “It’s all right. I am too,” he reassured, adding that last bit in a lowered voice. “That will be 9,321 won. Which drink is yours?”

Jinyoung fished the bills out of his back pocket, offering it to Youngjae who returned the change.

“Mine is the vanilla latte,” Jinyoung answered, stepping to the side to let the next person come forward to order, and waited patiently. After a few people from ahead of him received their drinks, he saw Youngjae prepare his three drinks, and he felt a twinge of guilt when he realised Youngjae was the only employee at the store.

When he moved to pick up the drinks, he opened his mouth to offer apologies for ordering such a long list of drinks. However, Youngjae rushed off before he even could, just to tend to another customer. Jinyoung left, and when pulling out his drink, noticed a “call me, 2-747-5143 - Choi Youngjae” messily scrawled right under the drink’s label. Cute. He input the number into his phone and took off for the airport.

He’s running late; the coffee shop took longer than he thought, and Jinyoung rushed into the terminal Yugyeom had texted him. He saw his brother, slouching as always, with BamBam, just as skinny, standing up straight next to him. At least his friend had good posture; Jinyoung had been trying to fix his brother’s bad habit for years. “Yah, Kim Yugyeom, straighten up!”

Yugyeom’s head jerked up, and a smile spread across his face. “Hyung!” The tallest bounded over, BamBam following, and enveloped Jinyoung in a tight hug. “How are you?”

Jinyoung laughed. “You act like you haven’t lived with me for twenty-four years. I’m doing well. How are you, Yugyeom, BamBam?” Yugyeom, as expected, immediately launched into a monologue about how his time in Thailand with BamBam’s family was. The fact that he didn’t really like durian was the only bit that stuck in Jinyoung’s head. But he didn’t mind; as much as he would never admit it to anyone’s face, he did miss his younger sibling. Jaebeom just didn’t fill in the gaps Yugyeom had left.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung, did you hear?” Jinyoung snapped his head toward the younger. The younger was telling him something but as mentioned, Jinyoung wasn’t really listening.

“Sorry, Gyeom, what is it?”

“Jaebeom hyung’s roommate is coming as well, you know? Jackson Wang? From when Jaebeom hyung studied in Hong Kong.” Ah. Jinyoung remembered the loud kid he met when he visited Jaebeom during their summer break three years ago. The memory that stood out the most was Jackson immediately declared himself Jinyoung’s best friend. It would be nice to see him again, Jinyoung guessed, but it’s sad Jaebeom would be spending more time with Jackson and Jinyoung instead of just Jinyoung.

Wait, what the hell was he doing?

Has he really gotten so deep into his crush that he’s trying to break off Jaebeom’s friendships? Jinyoung tonks his head on the steering wheel.

“Hyung?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…forgot how to drive.” Jinyoung came up with the lamest excuse, and Yugyeom stared at him for a second.

“Are you drunk?”

Instead of gracing him with an answer, Jinyoung started the car and stepped on it (as much was deemed safe).

Yugyeom cackled in his ear, and the oldest of the three aimed a slap on Yugyeom’s chest.

“There are drinks in the back for you,” Jinyoung said, and Yugyeom went for the latte. Before Jinyoung could stop him, Yugyeom noticed the message. To Jinyoung’s relief, however, the younger didn’t mention it, only raising an eyebrow and glancing at Jinyoung’s side profile.

“Hyung, how’s Jaebeom hyung doing?” BamBam broke the silence.

“Jaebeom hyung? He’s doing fine. Same old same old. Doing whatever he pleases. He went to a club yesterday and ended up half-naked on my couch and left to go who knows where and I’m definitely not suffering from an unrequited crush on him. Can’t he just not be so blatantly straight? I’m literally dying because he can’t handle not being hot every second of the day.” With each word that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth, his pitch rose.

BamBam and Yugyeom were quiet for the rest of the ride, and Jinyoung refrained from jumping out of the car lest they would crash. They finally pulled up to the building, and BamBam left the tense atmosphere as quickly as he could. Yugyeom ready to leave, turned to Jinyoung, opened and closed his mouth as if deciding on what to say. “Hyung…maybe you should go on that date.” With that final sentence, Yugyeom exits as well, leaving Jinyoung in the car to ponder over when his life suddenly turned into such a mess.

After concluding his life became a mess once he was born, Jinyoung headed inside to find Yugyeom and BamBam had already made themselves at home and were currently trying to set up the ancient Wii.

“Have you two unpacked already? That was fast.” Jinyoung commented, unimpressed, and Yugyeom looked up at him.

“Yeah, we unpacked…”

“…the Wii.” BamBam finished Yugyeom’s answer and Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Go unpack and then play Wii. I don’t want to trip over any of your bags.” Yugyeom groaned but got up obediently and BamBam followed like a good friend. Once they disappeared from sight, Jinyoung headed into his own room, with the coffee cup from Ars.

Jinyoung plopped down on his bed and opened the contacts on his phone. He stares at the number on the cup. After a moment of deliberation, he inputs it into his phone, saving the contact as ‘Ars - Choi Youngjae” and stares at the empty profile before finally tapping on “message.” He waited again, then sighed, throwing his phone onto the bed and leaving to get something to eat. Youngjae was still probably working and Jinyoung didn’t want to bother him.

Once Yugyeom and BamBam finished unpacking, they, predictably, connected the Wii and coerced (read: threatened) Jinyoung to join them in a Mario Kart championship.

In the middle of Rainbow Road, the door unlocked, and Jinyoung forfeited Yoshi to answer the door. Jaebeom and Jackson stood behind the door, and Jinyoung paused for a minute before letting them in. “Jackson! It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

Jackson grinned, slapping Jinyoung on the back.

“Hey, Park Gae!” God, Jinyoung forgot about the cute nickname Jackson gave him back in Hong Kong. Jackson waited expectantly, and Jinyoung sighed.

“Sorry. Wang Gae, it’s good to see you again. How have you been?” Jinyoung complied.

“I’m doing well; I’ve actually recently gotten a job here teaching fencing, so I’ll be seeing you guys more often!” Oh. Jinyoung didn’t think Jackson would be staying for that long.

“Hyungs!” Yugyeom finally got up from the couch, having beaten BamBam by a hair and Jinyoung by a mile. Jaebeom grinned endearingly as always, hooking an arm around Yugyeom’s neck and ruffling his hair. “Jaebeom hyung, don’t mess up my hair!”

“What, are you trying to impress the ladies?” Jaebeom teased, and Jinyoung stiffened slightly.

“Yugyeom, have you been trying to impress any ladies-“

Jinyoung started to narrow his eyes, and Yugyeom squawked, pulling himself out of Jaebeom’s grip.

“What- No!” Glancing at Jinyoung’s unwavering glare, Yugyeom immediately looked away and up.

“Kim Yugyeom.”

“Really! Seriously, hyung, no way! No girls.” Yugyeom whined. “I haven’t!” He emphasized the last word.

“No girls?” Jaebeom took this opportunity to tease him further. “What about guys? Any hot men in Thailand who caught your interest?”

Yugyeom glanced back at BamBam, and Jinyoung caught the sly movement.

“There are?” Jinyoung almost screamed, feeling like he might die. His baby brother? Having a crush? Unheard of. Yugyeom had always put dancing first, rejecting everyone. “Who? I must protect my baby brother from them!”

Jackson laughed. “Protect him from them? More like the other way around-“ Yugyeom smacked Jackson on the back.

“Hyung!” The fake tension was eased, and Jinyoung grinned at his brother, ready as always to tease.

“So? Who is it? Do I know him?”

“Well-“ Yugyeom started, and Jinyoung’s jaw dropped. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet?” Jinyoung frowns.

“He’s coming to Korea next week to study dance like I am. You’ll meet him then! Ten hyung is a year older, and BamBam knows him.” The Thai friend nodded.

“He’s a year older? Yugyeom, you’re into older men?” Jaebeom gasped in mock shock, and Yugyeom cackled, shoving the older lightly.

“Hyung, what the hell? He’s only a year older, not like Jinyoung and his young barista love.” Eyes turned to Jinyoung, who immediately began to smack Yugyeom.

“Kim Yugyeom-“

“What’s this about your young barista love?” Jackson was immediately interested.

“He’s not- I’m- How do you know he’s young?” Jinyoung stammered out.

Yugyeom cackled. “Choi Youngjae from Ars Coffee Shop? He tutors me in piano. He’s two years younger than you.” Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open.

God, this was mortifying. Jaebeom’s laughter brought him out of his funk, however. The older man (only by six months, Jackson liked to stress) slapped Jinyoung on the back. “Good for you, Nyoung! You’re finally going for your mans!”

Jinyoung choked something akin to ‘God, I hate you all’ and Yugyeom cackled at his older brother’s misery. However, he noticed Jinyoung’s pained look, and Jaebeom’s hand on his brother’s back, and quieted. “Jaebeom hyung,” the youngest called, “can you play Mario Kart with me? Jinyoung hyung sucks, and I beat BamBam. I wanna play you since you’re basically a grandpa.”

Jaebeom fell for the bait, hook line and sinker, glowering and grabbing the remote BamBam handed him. “All right, brat. Let’s go.”

Jinyoung almost heaved a breath of release and moved to the kitchen to get some water. BamBam followed him, and Jackson sat to watch Yugyeom and Jaebeom compete.

“Hyung-“ BamBam hissed, and Jinyoung tried to ignore him. But BamBam was nothing but persistent. “Hyung, why do you do this to yourself? It’s only hurting you, and in the long run, hurting Jaebeom hyung. This can only end up in two ways. Either you draw away from hyung when it gets too much, and both you and Jaebeom hyung get hurt; you both lose a good friend. Or you don’t and Jaebeom hyung finds out on his own. He’s going to feel bad, Jinyoung hyung. Guilty; he’s going to hate himself. You need to stop this.”

“You think I don’t know?” Jinyoung almost yelled but restrained himself. “God, BamBam, I love him, yes, but he’s also my best friend. I don’t want to just tell him, ‘Hey, I have a crush on you, I need you to never talk to me’, that will just make him sad as well. My best bet is to go out with Youngjae and try to forget.”

BamBam frowned. “Hyung, if you don’t then Youngjae-ssi will get hurt too.” Jinyoung sighed, dropping his head onto the counter. “You don’t have to leave him forever.”

“I know. But it’s not something I want to do. Call me jealous-”

“Am I interrupting something?” Jinyoung turned his head to face Jackson, standing in the kitchen doorway awkwardly. BamBam looked at Jinyoung, who shrugged.

“Might as well tell him, Bam,” Jinyoung sighed. “It’s pointless to hide it.”

Jackson was still confused and Jinyoung was still moping, so BamBam took it upon himself to save them from their misery. Or at least, just explain. After doing so, Jackson’s mouth is agape. “Damn, are you living in a k-drama or something? That’s insane, man.”

Jinyoung almost rolled his eyes, but he’s too tired to do so. Instead, he just got up, drank a glass of water, and smiled tightly at Jackson. “Yeah. I think I’ll go to bed early. Eat whatever, or order something. Don’t let Yugyeom cook.”

As he trudged back into his room, Jaebeom, having just been defeated by Yugyeom, glanced up and saw his best friend leave. “Yugyeom, play against Jackson, okay? I need to ask Jinyoung something. Sounds good?” Yugyeom nodded, engrossed in the game, and Jackson came to play for Jaebeom.

“Jinyoungie, I’m coming in, all right?” Jaebeom knocked gently on his best friend’s door, and he can hear a muffled groan. Jaebeom opened the door and saw Jinyoung lying face down in the bed. “Jinyoungie, what’s wrong?”

“Nuthin’,” Jinyoung mumbled, turning his head off the pillow and away from the door.

“That doesn’t look like nothing, Jinyoung.” The older sighed, stepping forward and sitting in Jinyoung’s desk chair. “Is something the matter?”

Jinyoung didn’t respond, and just pulled a blanket over his head and rolled over some more, enough to wrap himself up like a mummy. Jaebeom sighed again, shifting the chair closer until he’s almost right next to the bed. Jinyoung didn’t move, so Jaebeom reached out and smoothed Jinyoung’s hair. “Hyung-”

Jaebeom’s heart leaps into his chest. He had never heard Jinyoung sound so pitiful ever since the younger had broken his knee cap in middle school. “Jinyoung? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, I think maybe you should leave me alone.”

With those words, Jaebeom’s heart dropped. Never had he thought he would ever hear Jinyoung say that. Through thick and thin, the two had always stuck together. It was just two years ago Jaebeom found Jinyoung crying alone in his closet and seeing Jinyoung like this again made Jaebeom hurt. He ignores Jinyoung, moving to sit on the bed instead, and wraps an arm around Jinyoung. “Nyoung, I won’t make you talk to me, all right? But I don’t want to leave you alone, and I’ll sit and stay in here. I don’t want you to hurt alone.”

He lay beside Jinyoung, enveloping the younger in his arms, blanket burrito and all, and listened to Jinyoung’s breathing heightened…and then fell as the younger fell asleep.

As much as it hurt Jaebeom to see his best friend like this, he didn’t know what he did hurt Jinyoung more.

When Jinyoung woke, he knew Jaebeom was still there, feeling the older’s arms caressing his arms subconsciously. God, why is Jaebeom like this? Nice one minute and then the next running out the door to meet some girls.

He carefully slid out from between Jaebeom’s arms and adjusted the sheets to cover Jaebeom. As he tiptoed out of his room, he came face to face with Yugyeom, wringing his hands. “Gyeom?” he whispered, “What is it?”

“Hyung-“ Yugyeom was obviously distressed. Jinyoung reached up to brush his bangs out of hair. “ hyung, are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad, baby?”

“I’m gay.“ Jinyoung almost laughed, if not for the look on Yugyeom’s face.

“Baby, I’d never be mad. Look at me and my gayness. Why on Earth would I be mad?” Yugyeom shrugged, still obviously worried. “The only thing I’m unhappy about is the fact you didn’t tell me. But not at you, Gyeom-ah. I’m just worried I failed something as your brother.”

Yugyeom shook his head. “No, hyung. Of course not. You’re the best big brother I could wish for.”

Jinyoung laughed. “Maybe you should get upset more often. I could get used to hearing that.” Yugyeom finally smiled, shoving his brother lightly.

“Hyung, don’t be a dumbass. Come on, let’s eat.” Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open in fake annoyance.

“Yah, respect your elders. Brat.” Jinyoung patted his pockets, before realizing he accidentally left his phone inside the room. He almost groaned audibly, before turning around and opening the door as quietly as he could.

However, that was unnecessary as Jaebeom had already woken, and was seated on the bed and rubbing his eyes. “Hey, hyung,” Jinyoung greeted him almost casually but got the words out slightly too fast.

“Jinyoung, you know you can always talk to me, right?” God, Jinyoung did not want to get into this talk.

“Hyung, I know. I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” Jinyoung sighed. “Maybe one of these days I will, but not right now. Have you seen my phone?”

Jaebeom, knowing that the conversation was over, nodded. “Yeah, it’s on the bed. You were sleeping on top of it.” Jaebeom grabbed it, but before handing it to Jinyoung, smirked. “I texted Youngjae for you.”

“You what?” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “Hyung, come on. I was going to get to it.” Jaebeom frowned.

“Really? I distinctly remember multiple times you almost failed a class because you “going to get back to your superiors,” Jinyoung.”

“Hyung, seriously. Maybe school was something, but this is my own business. Stop poking your nose into it. I’ll text Youngjae if I want to, and if I forget, I forget.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes, and Jaebeom’s temper flared.

“Yah, respect your elders, Park Jinyoung. I just wanted you to get out and talk to people. All you do is stay in here all day or work.”

“I’ll respect you once you respect my personal affairs, Jaebeom. And are you saying I’m not exciting because I like to stay inside? Jaebeom, come on. Don’t be daft.”

“I’m just saying-” Jaebeom raised his hands in mock surrender “-going out is fun. It’s an experience.”

“Im Jaebeom, just because you sleep around like a whore-“ Jinyoung slapped his mouth closed, eyes widening, and Jaebeom got up. He was mad. “Hyung, I didn’t mean it.” Jaebeom ignored him, brushing past Jinyoung’s shoulder and leaving the room immediately. Jinyoung sank down onto the floor and almost curses.

He lay there for who knows how long, or at least until his stomach growled, and BamBam pokes his head in. “Jinyoung hyung, are you all right? Jaebeom left in a huff thirty minutes ago and Jackson followed him. What happened?”

“I called him a whore, BamBam. I’m so stupid.” Jinyoung whined, slapping himself. “God, I’m such a dumbass.”

BamBam sighed. “Hyung, what did Jaebeom do? You don’t usually get this angry.”

“It wasn’t his fault-“ Jinyoung tried to defend, but BamBam shook his head.

“It was your own fault you said that, but he must have provoked you.” Jinyoung just groaned, patting the space next to him and BamBam joined him as the older man explained.

Sometime in the middle, Yugyeom joined in and Jinyoung had to explain all over again, getting almost choked up. “Hyung, I think you both were in the wrong. Jaebeom should have let you do your own thing. He’s not that much older than you, and even if he was, you’re an adult,” Yugyeom said.

“When did you two get so wise?” Jinyoung laughed wetly.

BamBam cackled, loud and clear as day. “We’re only wise when it comes to someone else’s affairs. Ours? Not so much. You should’ve seen Yugyeom flail in front of Ten hyung.”

Jinyoung’s eyebrow rose sky-high. “That’s right. Yugyeom, what is this…Ten like?”

The tips of Yugyeom’s ears turned red. “Ten hyung? He’s great. He’s loud and friendly. He likes cats, and he doesn’t like fruit.”

“He doesn’t like what now?”

“Fruit. I don’t know why, but it’s cute,” Yugyeom grinned to himself and BamBam gagged, causing the youngest to reach across Jinyoung and smack his best friend. “But enough about Ten hyung, what did Jaebeom hyung say to Youngjae hyung?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really look.” Yugyeom leaned over and grabbed the phone.

“Well, let’s check.”

Jinyoung grabbed the phone after a moment of hesitation and unlocked it. (The password was Jaebeom’s birthday but no one needs to know that.) The text, glaringly bright, just said a simple ‘Hey, how r u’ and there’s a moment of silence before Yugyeom burst out laughing.

“Jaebeom hyung thinks he’s slick but he’s just as bad at texting as you,” Yugyeom teases.

“Nah, at least Jaebeom hyung uses slang. Jinyoung hyung sounds like he’s texting a business partner.” Jinyoung smacked both of them, eliciting a few more laughs when Yugyeom gasped.

“Hyung, he’s texting you back-” Jinyoung’s head snaps to the phone where lo, and behold, Youngjae had just responded with a ‘hey, im good, how r u?’

At the prodding of the two youngest, Jinyoung replied, and he and Youngjae ended up starting a conversation. Yugyeom and BamBam exchanged looks before quietly leaving Jinyoung with his new beau.

‘What are u up to?’

‘Not much, I’m just lying down. How about you?’

‘LOL ur so formal. And you asked that already. But Im doing the same haha’

‘Sounds fun. I’m sure we are very exciting.’

‘How’s life?’

‘Boring. How’s yours?’

God, Jinyonug could feel the awkwardness oozing from his texts, and he resisted the urge to smack himself. Before he could, his phone rang, Youngjae was calling him. Jinyoung almost dropped the phone, but answered it quickly, pressing the phone to his ear.

“I think it’d be less awkward if we talked on the phone, yeah?” Youngjae’s bright voice sounded, not dulling even through the phone.

“Yeah, that might be best,” Jinyoung laughed. “How was work? It wasn’t too busy, I hope.”

“No, not at all.” A moment of silence when- “Hey, are you busy today?”

Jinyoung’s heart picked up. “No, not at all. Are you?’

“No.”

More silence, when Youngjae burst out laughing, and by default, so did Jinyoung. Who could resist laughing after Youngjae does, after all? “God, we’re embarrassing,” Jinyoung choked out through giggles.

“No, I think it’s all you. You just enable my awkward ability,” Youngjae teased. “But seriously, do you want to hang out today? I’m done tutoring.”

Tutoring reminded Jinyoung. “Yeah, that sounds good! Speaking of tutoring, I’ve heard you tutor my younger brother, Kim Yugyeom?”

“Wait, seriously? Kim Yugyeom is your brother?” Youngjae sounded flabbergasted and Jinyoung laughed once more.

“Yeah. I took our father’s last name and Yugyeom took our mother’s.”

“That’s neat. Yugyeom is such a cute kid, and he learns well.”

“Yeah, but he’s a brat.” The two of them snicker, and Jinyoung can hear Yugyeom sneeze twice.

“But seriously, do you want to meet up?” Jinyoung nodded, but then realised he’s stupid.

“Ah, yeah. Sure! When and where?”

“Does lunch at Ars Coffee work? I have a worker’s discount...and I own the place so the discount is not needed.” Jinyoung snorted.

“Wow, successful and handsome. I sure hit the jackpot. That sounds good.”

“Oh, haha, very funny. I’ll see you at noon.” Youngjae hung up, and Jinyoung stared at his phone for a few minutes, a stupid grin on his face.

God, he’s excited. He’s probably a little too excited. God, he can’t wait to tell Jaebeom. Jinyoung is brought back down from his emotional high as fast as Yugyeom buying an ice choco. Should he text Jaebeom or let the older cool down? Why did he have to run his mouth? Jaebeom was just trying to help and Jinyoung ruined it.

Unfortunately, today is still not a good day to wallow, Jinyoung has to get ready for his date. Date? Is it a date? Dear LORD Jinyoung’s going on a date. Jaebeom be damned (and thanked), he was a bit overeager and ran straight into the doorframe. “Hyung?” Yugyeom poked his head around the hallway corner. “Everything all right?”

Jinyoung beams. “I have a date.” Yugyeom snickers at Jinyoung’s face.

“God, hyung, you look stupid. But congratulations.” Jinyoung suddenly wiped the smile off his face, straightening up and sending the fear of God into Yugyeom’s heart.

“Kim Yugyeom, I may be going on a date with undeniably the cutest man to exist. But I am still your older brother and will not hesitate to kill you.”

Yugyeom cackled and ran into his room with BamBam, locking the door, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes. When his beloved “Ten hyung” comes around, he’ll have to answer to Jinyoung if he ever hurts Yugyeom.

But look at the time; Jinyoung needed to eat and change if he wanted to be at Ars Coffee at noon. Cereal is the fastest option, but BamBam finished the last of that (damn his sweet tooth), so Jinyoung just got a piece of bread and toasted it. He’s excited about his first date, he’s allowed to rush. By the time he had to leave, he had already tried on five different outfits, deciding on a simple black turtleneck and jeans. “I’m heading out, you two. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Get that dick, hyung!” Jinyoung heard Yugyeom and BamBam chorus from in their room, making a mental note to kill them later. But for now, he had a date he needed to go on.

Due to his excitement, he ended up arriving thirty minutes early, and Jinyoung just ordered and waited. Youngjae came barrelling in twenty minutes later, all smiley and Jinyoung could feel his heart melt. “Jinyoung! Hi!” Youngjae slid in across from him. “I heard you arrived really early; the co-owner and my friend told me.”

Jinyoung laughed, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “Damn, if I ever need to commit some shady business, remind me not to do it here. Your co-workers will just snitch on me.” Youngjae guffawed, the sound echoing in the shop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll vouch for you.” Jinyoung laughs as well.

“Thanks, I’m glad I now have a confidant for all my misadventures,” Jinyoung says, poking Youngjae’s arm.

“How many misadventures have you been getting into?” Youngjae raises a brow. “Last time we met, you were three-timing your boyfriends.” Jinyoung snorts.

“Oh, you have no idea. I rob banks and kill my best friends all the time.” Youngjae laughs once more, and Jinyoung could hear it all day, every day.

"You sound like someone my mother would warn me against," Youngjae teases. "I should stay away from you if I want to keep my reputation up."

Jinyoung chuckles. "Well, what's the fun in that?" He leans across the table slightly. "I say damn your reputation, let's go murder someone."

"I don't think that would fly over very well with my friend Mark, but alright. Tomorrow at seven? Who should we start with?"

Jinyoung snorts, all the possibilities going through his head. "Jaebeom," he says without thinking, and almost takes it back. But Youngjae doesn't know the argument; so he'll live with it.

"Who's that?" Youngjae cocks his head and Jinyoung resists the urge to coo.

“He’s my best friend.” Thankfully Jinyoung’s voice didn’t waver. “Everyone has the moment where you want to kill your best friend, surely.”

“No, I am an angel, couldn’t you tell?” Youngjae teased, and Jinyoung refrained from saying ‘yes.’ He liked Youngjae already; they have a lot in common and Jinyoung forgot all about the ordeal with Jaebeom as he spends time with the younger.

However, his glee was soon cut short when he arrived home and he saw Jaebeom’s shoes kicked off to the side. “Yugyeom-ah, is Jaebeom hyung here?” he asked the younger on the couch. Yugyeom looked up, shock registered on his face.

“Hyung, you weren’t supposed to be home ’til later,” Yugyeom stammered, and Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Kim Yugyeom, what is going on?” Jinyoung dropped his book bag onto the floor. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, you know this-“

“Jinyoung, it’s not Yugyeom’s fault.” Jinyoung’s head whipped around, Jaebeom having spoken from around the corner of the kitchen.

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Jinyoung left Yugyeom on the couch and entered the kitchen, seeing Jaebeom cooking…something. “Well, never mind that, hyung. I guess since you’re here, I should apologise for earlier this morning. What I said was out of line and-“

Jaebeom waved him off. “No, just forget it, Jinyoung. We were both at fault. Let’s just put it behind us, hm? We can’t not be best friends over such a petty fight, right?”

“Yeah, best friends,” Jinyoung chuckled almost lifelessly. Time to shove yet another problem under the carpet. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“What, can’t I visit my best friend?” After a moment of silence, Jaebeom sighed, giving in. “I need to learn how to cook Italian dishes. I invited this girl over for dinner next week, and I want to impress her.”

“Can’t you order Italian takeout?” Jaebeom snorted.

“Takeout can’t cut it.”

“Have you forgotten the Great Noodle Incident, hyung? I don’t think I want you cooking weird recipes in my kitchen.” Jaebeom looked up from the pot to glare at Jinyoung.

“Wasn’t that your idea, Nyoung?”

“Well, I think it’s time for me to go. I’m a little tired, you know?” Jinyoung tried to make his escape, but Jaebeom is nothing if not petty.

“No, no, Jinyoung, please refresh my memory. How did the Great Noodle Incident start?” Jinyoung opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, before he was saved by the doorbell.

When he enters the living room to answer it, it appears Yugyeom had already opened the door to whoever it is standing outside. “Youngjae ah? What are you doing here?” Jinyoung blinked once, twice, thrice.

“Ah, you just forgot your phone at Ars.” Youngjae held up the device. “I texted Yugyeom for your address; I didn’t know he lives here too.”

“Oh, thanks.” Jinyoung smiled, walking over and taking his phone. “I appreciate it, Youngjae. Would you like to come in for a little? Jaebeom is here and you could meet him.”

Youngjae steps forward a bit. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude, but I would love to meet our murder victim once.” Jinyougn laughed out loud, covering his mouth again.

“That’s right. He’s in the kitchen, cooking who knows what. Maybe you could help him out; you work in the coffee shop so you’re bound to be a better cook.” Youngjae laughed.

“I only know how to make pastries, really, but I could try. What is he attempting?” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Some weird Italian recipe, and I don’t want the apartment burnt down.” Jinyoung led Youngjae to the kitchen, gesturing towards Jaebeom. “Youngjae, Jaebeom. Jaebeom, Youngjae.”

Jaebeom turned around, beaming and bowing. “It’s nice to meet you, Youngjae. I’m glad Jinyoung finally got out of his shell and met someone. Lord knows how long I’ve been trying to get him to go on a date.”

Yeah, cus I want to date you. “Well, how does it feel to have Jinyoung ssi finally go on a date then?” Youngjae saved Jinyoung from his thoughts, and Jinyoung poked Youngjae in the side for the comment.

Jaebeom snorted, slapping Jinyoung on the back. “God, I’m so relieved. I definitely would have thought this kid would become an old miserly man who yells at kids.”

“You are only seven months older than me, hyung. Don’t call me kid,” Jinyoung snapped playfully.

Jaebeom gasped. “Now, where has this attitude come from? Don’t talk back to your elders…kid.” It’s Jinyoung’s turn to chuckle.

“God, you’re so annoying.” Jinyoung turned to Youngjae. “See why I chose him as my first murder victim?”

“I don’t know…I think I like him,” Youngjae teased, and Jinyoung pouted.

“I’m so hurt. I’ve been betrayed,” he cried out, “Yugyeom, you’re the only one I love.”

“Ew, hyung, go away,” called Yugyeom from the other room, and the apartment was filled with laughter. God, Jinyoung was beyond happy Youngjae and Jaebeom are getting along. The two seemed to enjoy each other’s company, Youngjae coming around the counter to read the recipe Jaebeom had left out.

Jinyoung left the kitchen for a little, coming to sit by Yugyeom, who was watching a drama on his phone. “Yugyeom, why weren’t you going to tell me Jaebeom was here?”

Yugyeom didn’t look up from his drama, answering with a, “I thought he would be gone by the time you came back. I didn’t want you two to argue again. You know, hyung is my friend too, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Jinyoung sighs. “I know. I’ll try not to argue with him too much.”

“I’m not talking about that, hyung,” Yugyeom said, finally pausing his drama to look at his older brother, only this time Jinyoung avoided Yugyeom’s eyes. “Hyung, come on.”

“Yugyeom, where’s BamBam?” Jinyoung tried to change the subject, but Yugyeom was having none of that.

“He’s getting picked up from work by Jackson. Don’t dodge the situation.” Jinyoung still avoided Yugyeom’s eyes.

“I know. But we have guests, and I don’t want to deal with this just yet.”

“Deal with what?” Youngjae had just come around the corner, having finished with Jaebeom.

“My friend is coming over next week, and Jinyoung hyung doesn’t want to meet him since he thinks I’m going to elope or something,” Yugyeom lied smoothly. Jinyoung resisted the urge to kick him for that comment in thankfulness.

“Ooh, your boyfriend?” Yugyeom choked at Youngjae’s comment.

“No! Ten hyung is just a friend.”

“For now-” Jinyougn snorted, and Yugyeom whined.

“Hyung, seriously. You’re so annoying.” Jinyoung laughed at that, ruffling the younger’s hair.

“I’m just kidding, Yugyeom,” he laughed, and turned to Youngjae. “Are you leaving already?” Youngjae nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, I have to get back to Ars; Mark co-owns the place with me and his shift is almost over.” Youngjae paused briefly, eyes flicking down to Jinyoung’s lips. Jinyoung catches the sly movement and smiles.

“Here, I’ll walk you down to your car.” Youngjae agreed readily, and the two exited the apartment to the sound of Yugyeom gagging really loudly. Jinyoung swore he’s going to kill Yugyeom one of these days. But not right now.

Right now, Jinyoung was focusing on how he and Youngjae are alone in the elevator, and how the younger keeps glancing at his lips. “Hyung-” Youngjae started to speak, and Jinyoung snapped his head to look at him. “Er- I like Jaebeom and Yugyeom. They’re very nice.”

Jinyoung beamed. “I’m glad I know them. As much as they annoy me, they are good friends.”

The silence became deafening again, and lasted until Youngjae and Jinyoung were standing in front of the younger’s car. “Hyung, thanks for letting me hang out for a little,” Youngjae said, and before Jinyoung could react, leant forward and pressed a kiss to the older’s lips before getting in his car and waving.

Jinyoung barely had the mind to wave back before Youngjae started the car and left. He remained in his daze all the way back up to his apartment, where Yugyeom finally had the sense to leave Jinyoung alone and let his brother go into his room without a hitch. Jaebeom, however, isn’t as kind, leaving Yugyeom with instructions on when to take whatever food he’s made out of the oven.

“So, Jinyoungie-ya! How did your date go?” Jaebeom rested against the bedroom door frame, grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. God, Jinyoung would kiss the smirk off Jaebeom’s face if he could. Unfortunately, for one, he’s on his bed and wrapped up in blankets. And second, Jaebeom might punch him.

Jinyoung frowned with no spite. “It was good, hyung. I really like Youngjae. I’m glad I met him.” Jaebeom nodded once, twice.

“That’s…good. I’m glad, Jinyoungie. You deserve someone in your life.” Jaebeom smiled, but Jinyoung can feel something off about it. He pushes the feeling to the side; Jaebeom was probably still a little upset about the argument earlier.

“Hyung, come here,” Jinyougn smiled lightly, lifting up the blankets, and Jaebeom laughed, walking forward and cuddling up with Jinyoung.

“I forgot you’re so clingy sometimes,” Jaebeom teased, and Jinyoung snoted, kicking Jaebeom lightly in the shin.

“Don’t be mean, hyung,” Jinyonug whined and Jaebeom laughed again, wrapping his arm around Jinyoung’s waist. The younger could feel his heartstrings tugging, but he ignored the feeling, as he’s done all those years. “Hyung?”

“Yes, Nyongie?” Jaebeom was sleepy, and Jinyonug couldn’t blame him. He spent all this time cooking, and paired with the argument this morning, Jinyoung could understand why he’s tired.

“I love you,” Jinyoung whispered, and Jaebeom just groaned, pressing his cheek into Jinyoung.

“Love you too, Nyoung,” he mumbled out a reply before cuddling even closer, and Jinyoung almost cried. Thankfully, he didn’t (how embarrassing would that be) and instead fell asleep against his friend for the second time that day.

They’re woken up an hour later by Jackson, who had returned with BamBam and three cartons of ice-cream and the promise of a movie night. Well, Jinyoung wasn’t going to protest, especially since he didn’t have to pay for either dinner or the ice-cream.

Unfortunately, Jackson chose the movie, and as expected, it was an Iron Man movie. Jinyoung doesn’t know which one; he’s given up on paying attention. Instead, he’s crowded in between Jackson and Jaebeom, the former’s hand slightly uncomfortably high up on Jinyoung’s thigh. Jaebeom looked at the hand on Jinyoung’s thigh unhappily, wrapping his arm around Jinyoung again.

God, it was almost domestic, and Jinyoung could feel the warmth of his crush rise again. Why did he do this? He liked Youngjae; why did Jaebeom have to do this to him?

Jinyoung was suffocating, he couldn't handle this contact. He stood up abruptly, Jaebeom looking up with his eyebrows furrowed and Jackson frowning slightly. Yugyeom stayed silent, as did BamBam.

“Jinyoung-ah, are you all right?” Jackson speaks first. Jinyoung looked at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

At that, Yugyeom stood up, guiding him away from the group. “Hyung, go get a glass of water and go lie down in your room, all right?” Jinyoung nodded blankly, leaving, and as Jaebeom made to stand up, Yugyeom stopped him. “Jaebeom hyung, I don’t think you should go with him. Just enjoy the movie with Jackson hyung, all right?”

Jaebeom glared, but Yugyeom stood firm, and Jaebeom didn’t want to go against the wishes of Jinyoung’s younger brother and so he relented.

Yugyeom found Jinyoung in his room, as he was told, sitting against the bed on the floor and clutching the water in both hands. Yugyeom sighed at his brother’s obviously distressed state. “Hyung, drink the water. Holding it isn’t going to help,” he tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Jinyoung lifted the cup to his lips, taking small sips and Yugyeom sat next to him. “Yugyeom, why did this have to happen to me?” Jinyoung asked solemnly, and the brothers sighed in unison.

“Hyung, I think maybe you should take time off from seeing Jaebeom hyung. It’s doing nothing but hurting you.” Jinyoung finished his cup of water, and Yugyeom took it, putting it on the desk.

“Yugyeomie, I can’t.” Jinyoung’s plea almost broke Yugyeom’s heart. “He’s first and foremost my best friend.” Yugyeom tentatively wrapped his arms around Jinyoung, pulling his older brother into a tight hug, and Jinyoung choked out a sob.

“Hyung, I’ll handle it with Jaebeom, all right? I’m sure he just wants you to be happy.” Jinyoung didn’t respond, crying silently into Yugyeom’s chest.

Sooner or later, Jinyougn was too exhausted, and fell asleep in Yugyeom’s arms, the third time today. Yugyeom didn’t move, too worried to wake up the older, and Jaebeom quietly opened the door and poked his head in.

“Is he doing all right?” Jaebeom walked in further, leaning down and brushing a piece of hair out of Jinyoung’s mouth.

Yugyeom sighed, looking up at Jaebeom. “Hyung, I don’t think he can see you and Jackson any more.” Jaebeom’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“Hyung, it’s not like that,” Yugyeom added hastily. “I just think that he’s been overstressed with work and making sure you and Jackson don’t notice. I’m forcing him to take a few days off. BamBam has to stay since he doesn’t have a place to stay, but I want Jinyoung to indulge in what he wants. Haven’t you noticed he started rejecting you subconsciously?”

Jaebeom’s frown deepened, but he made no comment. Of course he’s noticed the way Jinyoung flinches when Jaebeom initiates physical contact, the way he avoids Jaebeom’s eyes. “I just don’t want Jinyoung by himself.”

“He won’t be alone, hyung. I promise. I’ll keep an eye on him, and so will BamBam.” Yugyeom reassured, and Jaebeom backed off. Yugyeom knows what he’s doing, Jaebeom reminds himself.

“All right. Jackson and I will be going then. Make sure Jinyoung feels better soon, all right? Can’t have my best friend die on me.” Yugyeom nodded and Jaebeom finally left.

Yugyeom stayed in Jinyoung’s room for the rest of the night, lifting Jinyoung into his bed and curling up next to him. At some point, BamBam had joined the cuddle party, and when Jinyoung awakened, he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t for a long while, but the cuddle party overheated him, so he wriggled his way out of Yugyeom’s arms carefully.

As he made his way into the kitchen, his phone buzzed, and looking at it, Jinyoung noticed Youngjae had texted him, asking him if he wanted to come over today. ‘Mark is at a friend’s for the whole day so we could hang out and watch movies or something’ the text read, and Jinyoung’s heart leapt into his throat.

He responded quickly, agreeing readily, and asked for a time. Youngjae responded just as fast, offering five in the evening, and Jinyoung accepted. He poked his head into his room to see Yugyeom and BamBam still asleep, curled around each other.

He didn’t want to wake them up; it must have been the jet lag getting to them, so Jinyoung let them sleep in. They looked so peaceful anyway; Jinyoung would’ve felt bad if he woke them. But when he tried to exit the room, the buzz of his phone alerting him to a new text alerted BamBam as well. “Hyung?” the Thai man groggily opened his eyes. “Good morning.”

Jinyoung threw him a smile. “Morning, Bam,” he responded, keeping his voice low. “Did you have a good night?”

BamBam sat up, Yugyeom’s head on his chest falling to his lap. “Yeah. Hyung, are you doing all right?” Jinyoung shrugged.

“As good as I can do now. Don’t wake up Yugyeom, all right?” BamBam nodded, looking down at the youngest in his lap. “I’ll be going out later on this evening to see Youngjae.”

BamBam wriggled his eyebrows, and Jinyoung restrained himself from hitting his brother’s friend. “Get that ass, Jinyoung.”

“If anything, Youngjae will get this ass,” Jinyoung stated smoothly, and before BamBam could recover from his shock, exited the room smoothly.

As he glanced down at his phone, three missed calls from an unknown number were there, and Jinyougn frowned, swiping the notifications away. It was probably a telemarketer; Jinyoung had been getting a lot of those calls recently. No big deal, Jinyoung just blocked the number without a hitch.

Breakfast is more important than weird phone calls, anyway. He can’t cook to save his life, but Jinyoung does know Jaebeom kept leftovers from yesterday in the fridge. He’s still unsure whether he likes the ziti, or whatever Jaebeom made, but it’s food.

He popped a plate of ziti into the microwave, keeping an eye on the timer to stop it before it beeped and woke up Yugyeom. But he didn’t need to; Yugyeom had awoken and was coming around the corner. “Hyung, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you up.” This was apparently the wrong thing to say, Yugyeom smirked.

“Aw, is my big bro being soft for his favorite brother?” Jinyoung swiped at Yugyeom, who dodged easily.

“Brat.”

Yugyeom cackled at his older brother’s misery, a regular occurence in this household. Jinyoung did his best to ignore him, instead sending a few cat pictures to Jaebeom. Surprisingly, the older didn’t respond right away, but Jinyoung shrugged it off, pinning it down to Jaebeom probably forgetting to charge his phone again.

BamBam needed yet another ride to work, so Jinyoung offered to take him to get his mind off the upcoming date. Yugyeom wanted to tag along, and Jinyoung knew if that happened, they’d be making two different stops to get food. But Yugyeom shot him with the puppy eyes, and Jinyoung could feel himself give in. Damn him and his soft heart. Thank god Jackson would pick them up instead of him.

And, as expected, Jinyoung waited outside a convenience store as Yugyeom and BamBam bought ramen. As he waited, someone came up to him. The man looked vaguely attractive; his features fit each other perfectly and gave him a gorgeous aura. “Excuse me?” Jinyoung pinched himself discreetly to get him out of his funk.

“How may I help you?” The stranger offered a slight smile, and Jinyoung had to focus really hard on his eyes instead of his lips.

“I’m a little lost; I just arrived and I was wondering if you knew where Seoul National University is.” Jinyoung ‘ah’ed in understanding.

“Yeah, it’s a little far from here. Which airport did you come from?” The person ran a hand through his hair sheepishly.

“Gimpo Airport.”

Jinyoung snorted. “Apologies,” he said quickly, covering his mouth with his hand, “you went in the opposite direction.”

The stranger’s mouth opened, but he had nothing to say except a crass phrase, and Jinyoung snorted again. “Sorry- God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, it’s not a big deal. You can take the bus to University; there’s a bus that stops a few miles away. Or, you could take a taxi.” Jinyoung offered, and the man nodded.

“Yeah, thank you. Where’s the bus stop?” Jinyoung pointed out the way and the bus he had to take. “Thank you again, I appreciate it.” The man flashed a smile and Jinyoung could feel his knees shaking, but stood firm.

“No problem. Good luck.” As soon as the man turned the corner, Yugyeom ran up with the instant noodles in his hands.

“Hyung! We got the noodles.”

“Yah, what took you so long, brat?” Jinyoung pinched Yugyeom’s ear. “It’s cold.”

Yugyeom whined, and BamBam laughed at his friend’s misfortune before Jinyoung grabbed his ear too. “Hyung-“ the two youngest groaned, and Jinyoung huffed.

“Eat your noodles, or else you’ll be late, BamBam.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes, and BamBam cackled.

Yugyeom had kindly gotten him a packet of juice from the store, and as BamBam and Yugyeom made fun of each other, Jinyoung sipped on the juice like a mom watching their kids play in the pool. They arrived at BamBam’s work, a dance studio, and as BamBam stepped out, so did Yugyeom. Jinyoung threw him a questioning look, and Yugyeom smiled.

“I’m going to apply to work here,” Yugyeom explained, and Jinyoung nodded in understanding. “Don’t be too loud, Hyung. Youngjae’s neighbors might call the police.”

Jinyoung’s face hardened, and Yugyeom and BamBam ran into the building cackling like the little devils they are. “Yah, Kim Yugyeom,” he muttered under his breath, well aware the taller man couldn't hear him.

But now was not the time to sulk around at his younger brother’s (loving) disrespect, he needed to get home and change for his date. On the way home, he passed by the bus stop he directed the stranger from earlier to, and saw the man sitting on the bench. Jinyoung laughed quietly, the situation was kind of funny once you thought about it.

Jinyoung remembered when he and Yugyeom had first moved to Seoul from Jinhae-gu. The younger had gotten lost so many times, and Jinyoung had gotten lost even more times trying to find Yugyeom. He hoped the stranger would be able to find his way around. Though, with that pretty face, Jinyoung didn’t think he would have any trouble getting help.

The stranger reminded Jinyoung a little of Jaebeom. When the older had first gone to Jinhae-gu to meet Jinyoung’s family, Jaebeom was lost at almost all times of the day. It was adorable, and honestly, Jinyonug felt a sense of satisfaction from feeling helpful to Jaebeom. Hopefully, I can be the same for Youngjae, Jinyoung thought as he pulled into the parking area of his apartment building.

He had about ten minutes to change before he had to leave again, and Jinyoung was too lazy to dress a little nicer, so he just threw on some jeans and an orange sweater that BamBam had tried (keyword: tried) to convince Jinyoug to get rid of. It was a comfy sweater, though, and Jinyoung liked it. Fuck BamBam.

Jinyoung remained proud of his sweater all the way up to when he texted Youngjae, letting him know he’s there. But as soon as Youngjae opened the door and looked at his shirt, Jinyoung could feel his ears turn red. “Hey,” Youngjae laughed. “I like your sweater.”

Jinyoung scrunched his nose, ears turning slightly red. “Thanks. I like it too.”

“No, seriously,” Youngjae patted Jinyoung on the back. “It’s not something that would look good on anyone, but you pull it off.”

“The more you talk about it the more self-conscious I get, you know?” Youngjae didn't respond, just laughed, and led Jinyoung up three flights of stairs. Youngjae’s apartment was comfortable, small enough for two people, with a lot of plants everywhere. The couch was a beige, matching the white rug, which Jinyoung wondered how it was so clean.

If he had a rug like that, Yugyeom would have spilt chocolate on it six times, BamBam would have dropped lipstick just as much, and Jaebeom’s cats would have ripped it to shreds whenever the older brought them over. “Do you like it?” Jinyoung looked up at Youngjae, and nodded.

“It’s very neat. Where did you get your barstools?” Youngjae snorted.

“Yardsale. Mark just repainted them.” Jinyoung chuckled, but Youngjae motioned him toward the couch and made him sit down. “Let me get some water and then we can look for something to watch, sound good?”

Jinyoung nodded again, it seemed like the only thing he could do right now. Youngjae walked behind the counter, and Jinyoung dug his feet into the rug, appreciating the softness of it. “How is this rug so clean?” he wondered aloud, and Youngjae sighed.

“It wasn’t. But I banned Mark from being on the rug with snacks after I got it professionally cleaned.” Jinyoung laughed.

“Is he that messy?”

“Not on purpose, no, but he likes to eat chips a lot, and the crumbs get all over the rug. I wouldn’t have minded if he ate gummies,” Youngjae gripes, returning with two glasses of water. “I brought you a glass too just in case.”

Jinyoung thanked Youngjae, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, not noticing how Youngjae’s eyes moved to his eyes. “What movie do you want to watch?” Jinyoung asked, and Youngjae smirked, eyes moving back up to Jinyoung’s eyes.

“Aren’t I supposed to ask that?” Jinyoung hummed.

“Well, I like most movies. Romance, comedy, and horror are some of my favorite genres. Do with that as you will.” Jinyoung winked at Youngjae, and Youngjae laughed breathily.

“I like romance and comedy as well, but I don't sit well with horror.” Youngjae turned on the TV, scrolling through Netflix’s menus, before the two of them finally settled on some obscure comedy neither had ever heard of.

To be frank, Jinyoung was the only one paying attention to the movie. Youngjae couldn’t keep his eyes off Jinyoung’s profile, especially when the older one laughed loudly. Sooner or later, Youngjae found himself leaning in and Jinyoung turned his head and smiled flusteredly. “Hyung,” Youngjae starts breathily, “may I kiss you?”

Jinyoung whined out a yes, and Youngjae pressed his lips against Jinyoung’s tentatively, both men closing their eyes. Youngjae’s lips were chapped while Jinyoung’s were soft, and the difference was felt almost immediately. Youngjae attempted to lick his lips while still kissing Jinyoung, and as expected, Jinyoung parted his lips slightly. Youngjae jolted slightly, surprised, but got back into the groove of things.

He pressed further, Jinyoung’s back pushed into the arm of the couch. It wasn’t quite that comfortable, but Jinyoung ignored the feeling, instead opening his mouth a little wider. Youngjae took this opportunity and ran his tongue along the seam of Jinyoung’s teeth.

The whimper that came out of Jinyoung’s mouth surprised both of them, and Jinyoung quickly tried to explain himself. He started with a, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, but was quickly cut off by Youngjae leaning forward and kissing him again.

The two kissed for what seemed like hours, but it was only about five minutes before Jinyoung broke away and whined out, “Can I suck you off, please?” The plea goes straight to Youngjae’s dick who nodded quickly and shifted backwards on his butt to let Jinyoung lean forward.

Jinyoung reached for Youngjae’s sweatpants, pulling it down as quickly as he could. However, before he removed Youngjae’s boxers, Jinyoung slid off the couch onto his knees and adjusted Youngjae to sit with his legs on either side of Jinyoung’s body. He then leans in.

“Fuck.” The obscenity spouted out of Youngjae’s mouth as soon as Jinyoung pressed his lips against Youngjae’s covered crotch. “Fuck, hyung.”

Jinyoung laughed breathily, the feeling making Youngjae moan, and Jinyoung pulled down his boxers at last, freeing Youngjae’s cock. “Youngjae-yah,” is all Jinyoung whined before leaning forward and licking a stripe up the younger one’s cock.

Before Youngjae could react, Jinyoung sucked the dick into his mouth and dipped his tongue into the slit. “Hyung-” Jinyoung looked up through his eyelashes at Youngjae and Youngjae almost creamed his pants. “Hyung, if you keep going I might cum right now,” Youngjae breathed.

Jinyoung popped off Youngjae’s cock with an obscene sound, and smirked, his full lips bitten to shame. “Good.” Youngjae swore he saw heaven and hell at the same time when Jinyoung sucks his cock down until his lips wrap around the base.

Youngjae’s hips twitched, and Jinyoung moaned, moaned, and swallowed around Youngjae’s dick. “Fuck, Jae-yah. Fuck my mouth,” Jinyoung rasped, popping off Youngjae’s cock and licking up the beading pre-cum. As soon as Jinyoung slid Youngjae’s cock back into his mouth, Youngjae gave him a questioning look, and Jinyoung nodded to reassure the younger.

Youngjae gave a few testing thrusts, and when all Jinyoung did was relax and open his jaw even wider, his thrusts built up until Jinyoung was drooling all down his chin and crying. It was when Jinyoung brushed his tongue alongside the bottom of Youngjae’s cock when the imaginary band around Youngjae’s cock snapped.

Youngjae cummed. His ears burned; he hadn’t meant to cum like a teenage boy watching porn for the first time, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

“God, Jinyoung,” Youngjae wheezed. “How on Earth are you so good at this?” Jinyoung chuckles, the sound throaty and rough.

“Practice from college...and my three girlfriends,” he joked as an afterthought.

“Do you need any help?” Youngjae offered, but Jinyoung glanced at the TV and then the clock. The movie was over, and Jinyoung would have to pick something up for dinner.

“No, maybe next time,” Jinyoug sighed, throwing Youngjae a wink and a smile. “I have to feed the kiddos.”

Youngjae laughed, bright and loud as always. “Can’t let them starve. Drive safe back.” He leaned forward, planting a much more sweet and much less sensual kiss on Jinyoung’s lips. Something that Jaebeom would do. Jinyoung’s ears burned; he just sucked off Youngjae, why is he thinking about Jaebeom. “Jinyoung?”

Youngjae’s voice brought Jinyoung back to his senses, and he smiled.

“Will do.”

On the way home, Jinyoung couldn’t stop thinking about why Jaebeom suddenly popped into his head. Fuck it.

Jinyoung steered to the side of the road, parking in front of a convenience store, and called Youngjae. “Jinyoung?”

“Hey, Youngjae,” Jinyoung said, voice thick. “Um, I don’t think this will work out. I’m really sorry, I did like you in that way. But I also have feelings for someone else and I don’t want to lead you on. It’s nothing against you, I just-”

Youngjae cut him off. “No, it’s okay, Jinyoung. It’s Jaebeom, isn’t it?” Jinyoung paused.

“How’d you know?”

“I saw how you looked at him, and how he looked at you.” Jinyoung snorted.

“Oh, he’s not gay. But I just don’t think I could date you if I had major feelings for him as well,” Jinyoung laughed shortly.

He could hear Youngjae sigh in the background. “Well, whatever you say. But hey, if you ever want to, my door is open. After all, I am a lonely old man,” Youngjae ended with a joke, and Jinyoung scoffed.

“If you’re old, what am I?”

“An ancient and wise sage. Bye, hyung,” Youngjae snarked before hanging up, and Jinyoung stuck his middle finger up at the phone screen even though he knew it would do nothing. Glancing to the side, Jinyoung decided to pop into the store before heading to Jaebeom’s apartment.

He picked up a few bottles of soju and some packets of snacks before paying and leaving. Before he started driving, though, he texted Yugyeom to let him know he would be late in getting home. For some reason, Jinyoung didn’t tell the younger he was going to Jaebeom’s place, chalking it up to the fact Yugyeom would probably berate him.

He arrived at Jaebeom’s floor, letting himself in with the key given to him when the apartment was leased, and saw something he hadn’t meant to.

Jinyoung was going to confess.

Really.

He was.

But Jaebeom was shirtless, and there was a naked man. Yes, man. Standing next to him. And when Jinyoung says naked, he means naked. The man had nothing but a pair of lace underwear on, and one of Jaebeom’s tank tops. Something he did not want to see. And definitely not next to Jaebeom.

Jinyoung dropped the bag of food and just as Jaebeom opened his mouth in disbelief, booked it out of the apartment. Jinyoung forwent the elevator, just thundering down the stairs and into his car before driving just past the speed limit to reach his home.

When he burst into his door, Yugyeom looked up, shocked at his brother’s face. Before Yugyeom could even say anything, Jinyoung choked out a, “Don’t,” before practically running into his room and slamming the door.

A reasonable reaction.

What wasn’t a reasonable reaction, however, was the fact that Jinyoung stayed holed up in his room for a week. Yugyeom tried picking the lock, but Jinyoung had moved his desk in front of the door. He only took the food left in front of the door once it was cold, and answered no calls.

Worried was an understatement when it came to how his friends and family were feeling. His mother called multiple times at the prodding of Yugyeom, and hell, even Youngjae came over to try to coax him out of his room.

Jinyoung wouldn’t budge, however. He refused to even open the door. It just hurt. Jinyoung didn’t know the exact reason.

Was it the fact Jaebeom never told him he was gay? Jinyoung knew it could have been a one time thing or the older had just found out, but it still hurt. Maybe it was because Jinyoung had finally picked up the courage to tell Jaebeom how he felt, but then...that situation happened.

Jinyoung doesn’t even want to think about it, but he couldn’t. He tried opening his laptop to work, but his mind inevitably wandered to Jaebeom and the stranger’s look of surprise. He tried reading his English dictionary, but he saw the notes Jaebeom doodles in them in secondary school, and his heart wrenched.

He knew he was wallowing, he knew it was insanely and exceedingly unhealthy. But staying in his room and crying just seemed so much safer than going out into the world.

But Yugyeom was not having any of that. He was not ready to watch his older brother decay, and so, forced the door open and pushed the desk forward just enough to get through and into Jinyoung’s room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hyung, talk to me,” Yugyeom pleaded when he sat on the bed next to Jinyoung’s bundled up body.

Hearing his baby brother on the verge of tears and begging, Jinyoung finally released the dam, head buried in the younger one’s lap. He sobbed for hours, Yugyeom just petting his hair. He didn’t know how long he cried, but he did know at some point, he had fallen back asleep. Crying takes a lot of energy, you know.

When he wakes up, Yugyeom is still there, still holding him. “Hyung, do you want to talk about it,” Yugyeom tried to coax Jinyoung to speak, and Jinyoung sighed. He really couldn’t wallow all week about this; this was just sad.

Jinyoung swallowed once, twice, then started to explain. The entire time, Yugyeom kept a neutral face, but Jinyoung could see the pity in his eyes. “So...in conclusion, I’m an idiot,” Jinyoung laughed, voice rasped and tired.

Yugyeom clucked his tongue, sighing. “No, hyung, you’re not. You were just shocked and hurt. We can’t help how we feel.” Jinyoung shrugged.

“I know, Gyeom-ah. I just don’t want it to hurt that much.” Yugyeom nodded and Jinyoung returned his head to his younger brother’s lap.

“Hyung, I’m going to take you out.” Jinyoung’s eyes snapped to Yugyeom’s face, and Yugyeom blanched. “Not like that, dumbass! I’ll take you around town tomorrow; we’ll just forget the past few days, all right? Ten hyung will be in the dance studio as well, and you can meet him.”

Jinyoung just grunted, worn out, and Yugyeom petted him back to sleep, slipping out of the room and into the kitchen where Jaebeom was waiting worriedly. “Is he doing all right?” was the first question out of Jaebeom’s mouth, and Yugyeom shrugged.

“He’s as good as he’ll be, hyung. He’s unhappy, maybe disappointed, but I don’t know when he will be out of his funk,” Yugyeom explained. “I’m taking him to meet Ten hyung tomorrow, hopefully that can get his mind off the fact you never told him you were bi. He must have felt so hurt seeing you.” Yugyeom wisely left out the part where Jinyoung also had a crush on him.

From the tone of his voice, Jaebeom could tell Yugyeom was mad at him. “Look, I didn’t...I didn’t think it was important.” Jaebeom wrung his hands. “Not that I didn’t want to tell him. I just-”

“Don’t give me excuses,” Yugyeom snapped. “You hurt my brother. Unintentional, or not, you withheld it for your own personal reasons. I can’t stay angry for long, but I advise you to get out of the apartment for now.” Jaebeom took a step back, pausing, but left soon after.

Yugyeom slumped over the counter, tired out. He hadn’t meant to snap at Jaebeom; who was he to be angry about Jaebeom hiding when he had done the same thing to Jinyoung? Well, the difference was that Jinyoung hyung doesn’t have a crush on me, he thought.

He really hoped meeting Ten hyung would bring Jinyoung out of his slump, but he doubts that it would happen. But maybe, just for a short while, it would distract Jinyoung.

So, when Yugyeom drove Jinyoung to the studio and Ten hyung was waiting outside, he really didn’t expect Jinyoung to laugh and say, “Oh, the lost guy! I didn’t know you were Yugyeomie’s ‘Ten hyung.’”

“Hyung, you know him?” Jinyoung nodded.

“Yeah, when I was driving BamBam to work, he asked me for directions.” Yugyeom’s mouth dropped open.

“No way,” he laughed. “Hyung, you literally know everyone.” Jinyoung snorted, pulling Yugyeom’s ear, and the three of them headed into the dance studio.

“Ten hyung, did you know Jinyoungie used to be a dancer as well?” Yugyeom began to say, and Jinyoung groaned, attempting to swat at Yugyeom.

“Kim Yugyeom, I swear-” Yugyeom dodged him, cackling. Ten watched, amused.

“Well. I’m sure you will be able to keep up with me and Yugyeom, then?” Jinyoung shook his head.

“Oh, no no, I’m not going to dance.” Yugyeom smirked, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Seriously. You can’t make me.”

Jinyoung flopped on the ground, sweaty and tired. “Love you too, hyung,” Yugyeom teased, poking Jinyoung’s sweaty forehead. Jinyoung grabbed the younger’s hand, pulling him down to wrestle, and Ten laughed.

“Okay, you two kids, no more fooling around,” Ten jokingly reprimanded. “Jinyoung-ssi; I didn’t expect you to catch up to me and Yugyeom this easily.”

Jinyoung snorted, flicking his hair out of his face. “I’m not that old, you know. I’m only, what, two years older than you? It’s only been three years since I graduated, too.��

Ten’s head cocked. “Really? I didn’t know that. Somehow I thought you would be older.” His lips pulled into a sweet smile, and Jinyoung could see Yugyeom mirror the smile. He laughed internally at his brother’s obvious crush. It was wholesome, cute, and not like his own trash bin of a love life. He winced at the memory of Jaebeom’s face when he caught him at his apartment yesterday, and the motion didn’t go unnoticed by Yugyeom.

“Hyung, do you wanna get us something to eat? I want to ask Ten hyung something.” Jinyong nodded quickly, eager to get his thoughts out of the dumpster.

“Yeah, I’ll just pop over to the convenience store a block down, do you guys want anything specific?”

After Ten and Yuyeom threw their dozens of orders at him and Jinyoung forced them to write it down, he slipped out the door and studio, walking down the road in the brisk and cool weather. Unfortunately, Jinyoung had forgotten his jacket. The sun was out, though, so Jinyoung wasn’t too unhappy. It was just a quick walk and the store would probably be warmer than outside.

Inside the store, Jinyoung was in the middle of a purchase, when he heard his name being called. “Jinyoung-ssi!” Ten was waving to him from outside the store. Jinyoung finished up his purchase, taking the plastic bag and meeting Ten outside as the two of them began the way back.

“Hey, Ten. What’s up?”

“I wanted to return your jacket; it’s a bit windy.” A pause, and then Ten opened his mouth, “Jinyoung-ssi, does Yugyeom have a crush on me?”

Jinyoung choked on the juice pack he had opened on the walk. “You should ask him that yourself, Ten-ah.”

Ten ignored him, going on with his thoughts. “I like him, but not in that way. And I don’t want to let him down; he’s a good friend.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Ten, seriously. You need to ask Yugyeom yourself, and tell him yourself. He’s a good kid, and sensible. He won’t take it to heart.”

“I suppose so.” They’re quiet until they reach the building, where Yugyeom was waiting in the lobby.

“We’re not supposed to eat in the dance room, so we gotta eat here, hyungs,” Yugyeom said, taking the bag from Jinyoung and rifling through it for his tteokbokki chips. “Ah, hyung, you forgot my sweet potato snacks.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Yugyeom, you consume an unholy amount of those at the apartment, you can deal with me forgetting them this time.” At Ten’s look, he added, “I’m running to the bathroom. Don’t touch my snacks.”

While in the bathroom, Jinyoung debated listening in the hallway to hear what Ten and Yugyeom had to say, but he decided against it. Yugyeom was old enough to make decisions himself.

As he waited for a reasonable amount of time for Ten and Yugyeom to stop talking, his phone binged with a text from the unknown number from earlier. The text read, ‘This is Mark, Youngjae’s roommate,’ and Jinyoung paused.

He took a screenshot, sending it to Youngjae, but the younger didn’t respond. He’s probably busy at Ars. As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, he stepped into the hallway where Ten was waiting. “Hey, Jinyoung-ssi. So. Would you like good news or bad news first?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ten smiled awkwardly, “Yugyeom felt like he needed space to get over me, so he went home. The good news is he still wants to be friends as well. The bad news is that I take the bus and can’t give you a ride home.”

Jinyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. Of course Yugyeom would do that. “It’s fine, I’ll just call a friend to take me home,” he bit out, not quite angry but not exactly happy either.

He called Jackson almost immediately. “Hey, Park Gae, what’s up?”

“Jackson, I need a ride home. Yugyeom left me at the dance studio.” Jinyoung ripped his phone away from his ear. Jackson had yelled into the phone with excitement.

“Dance? I didn’t know you danced, Jinyoungie-ah! I wanna see you sometime!”

“Yeah, no,” Jinyoung said almost immediately, “but I do need a ride home.”

Jackson laughed. “About that...sorry, no can do. I’m out of town for the weekend. I know you’re not on speaking terms with Jaebeom, but you could try to ask him. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. But I’m sure he’ll be fine with driving you.”

“...Yeah.” Jackson hung up, unaware of Jinyoung’s hesitation. Looks like he’s out of the option. Jinyoung rang up Youngjae next, but he didn’t answer again. Looks like Jinyoung needed to take the bus. As he pocketed his phone, that unknown number from earlier claiming they were Mark called, and Jinyoung, at his wit’s end, answered.

“Is this Park Jinyoung?” The voice on the other end was deep, especially through the phone, and Jinyoung felt like if he wasn’t so obsessed with Jaebeom, he might fall in love with this voice as well.

“Yes, why?” The voice laughed.

“I’m Youngjae’s roommate. Youngjae, say hi to your ex.” Jinyoung choked, and he could hear Youngjae in the background.

“Why are you calling Jinyoung? How’d you get his number?” Jinyoung couldn’t not laugh at the confusion laced in Youngjae’s voice.

“Anyways,” Mark, Jinyoung presumed, continued on, “I texted you because I have something I need to clear up with you. Can we meet up?”

Jinyoung frowned. “What do you need to clear up? I’ve never met you in my life.”

“You’ve met me once. At Jaebeom’s apartment.” Jinyoung’s heart raced.

“I’m not sure I would want to meet up with you, then. For one, you slept with my best friend when I didn’t even know my best friend liked men,” Jinyoung took a deep breath. “And for two, I saw your dick hanging out some lacy underwear. I don’t think I could look at you straight in the eye after that.”

Mark laughed loudly, and if he strained his ears, Jinyoung could hear Youngjae in the back laughing just as loudly. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. That...was not what was supposed to happen. Look, man, I promise I’m not evil. Ars is closed today; I’ll even bring Youngjae along. Is that fine with you?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Sure. I guess so. You’re going to have to pick me up though, Yugyeom left me at Easy Dance Studio.” Mark snorted.

“Is this your super secret plan to use me as a chauffeur?” Jinyoung finally laughed at that, agreeing between breaths. “I knew it. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

They were five minutes late, but Jinyoung didn’t think about it. He was too busy trying to avoid Mark’s eyes as he slid into the backseat and fiddled with his fingers. “Hey, Jinyoung,” Youngjae leaned around the passenger seat, offering Jinyoung a soft smile. “How was your week?”

“Shitty-” Jinyoung said without thinking, and both Mark and Youngjae laughed.

“Sounds like it,” Mark said, and paused for a split second before words came tumbling out of his mouth. To be honest, half of it was in English and Jinyonug only understood the words ‘sorry,’ and ‘Jaebeom,’ and ‘never.’

“Hold up, Mark-ssi. Can you speak in Korean?” Jinyoung asked, furrowing his brows, and Mark laughed, albeit a bit more strained.

“Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t sleeping with Jaebeom. That’s the first thing I should start out with. I had sex with Jackson, and I wasn’t aware Jackson had a roommate. But when I woke up, Jackson had left for out of town, which was kind of dumb. Who leaves a stranger in their apartment?”

Youngjae prodded Mark. “Hyung. Off topic.”

“Sorry, sorry. But Jaebeom was there, and he had lent me a tank top, though none of his pants stayed up. Apparently Jackson had thought Jaebeom would get rid of me if I tried anything. That was when you walked in. And you entered. Though correctly, you had assumed Jaebeom was not straight and hadn’t told you. But we never fucked.”

Jinyoung sat in the backseat in complete silence for the rest of the ride, and both Mark and Youngjae felt they shouldn’t say any more. But when they reached his apartment, before leaving, Jinyoung spoke. “Thank you for telling me, Mark. I’ll have to talk to Jaebeom soon. But I appreciate it, and if I could ever get the image of your penis out of my head, I’d love to be your friend.”

Mark chuckled. “That sounds great. Please do not think about my penis, even if I know it’s great.” Youngjae choked, slapping Mark on the back.

“Hyung! Don’t praise your dick in front of me and Jinyoungie hyung.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and smiled, getting out of the car and waving at the two friends as they drove off. Once they were out of sight, he stood in front of his apartment building for a few minutes before heading up.

Yugyeom was out, having left a note dictating he was hanging out with BamBam, so Jinyoung took this opportunity to text Jaebeom and asked him to come over. Jaebeom had replied almost instantaneously with confirmation, and Jinyoung waited in anticipation.

Jaebeom didn’t live too far, so he only had to wait fifteen minutes, though they felt like hours. The sound of the door unlocking caused Jinyoung to whip his head toward the kitchen entrance, locking eyes with Jaebeom as he rounded the corner.

“Hi.” Jinyoung broke the ice first, and Jaebeom immediately added a hyung to the end of that, as per habit, before he started crying. “Oh, hyung.” Jinyoung immediately came around the island, wrapping an arm around Jaebeom.

The two stayed like that in silence save the refrigerator humming. When Jaebeom finally got all his tears out, he whispered out an, “I’m so sorry,” and Jinyoung’s heart broke once again.

“Hyung, don’t be sorry.” Jaebeom shook his head, and Jinyoung quieted.

“No, Nyoungie, let me finish.” Jaebeom took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry I never told you I was bisexual. It sounds stupid of me, but I was scared how you would react. I know you are for the LGBT+ community, but when I found out I was, I didn’t know. And then I just kept it a secret for so long; I never felt like it would ever be the right time to tell you. I’m sorry I hurt you and lied to you.”

Jinyoung laughed through his own tears. “Hyung, I haven’t been completely honest with you either.” Jaebeom quieted, and Jinyoung took the opportunity. His heart hurt from pounding so hard against his ribcage, but it was now or never. “I’ve been in love with you for years, since before college.”

Jaebeom says nothing for a minute, and Jinyoung can feel his heart drop. When Jaebeom shifted, Jinyoung kept his eyes trained forward until he felt Jaebeom’s breath on his jawline. The younger turned; confused, when Jaebeom leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jinyoung’s.

“Jaebeom hyung?” When their lips part, Jinyoung asks the only question on his mind.

“We’re both idiots, huh?” Jaebeom snorted, and even with the tears running down his face and the wet noise, Jinyoung had never seen someone more beautiful. “I love you too.”

Jinyoung’s mouth dropped open, and Jaebeom laughed again. “Hyung, please don’t joke around like that,” Jinyoung pleaded, but Jaebeom shook his head.

“No, Jinyoungie. I promise. I’m not. I know it may not have seemed that way, but I promise I do. I do. I love you.” Jinyoung cried again.

He’s never cried so much over the span of ten days, much less a year. But somehow, this seemed worth it.

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marwritesgood · 4 years

Text

Secrets | O. Diaz

Pairing: Oscar x Martinez!Reader

Timeframe: Season 3 Episode 8

Summary: He tells her he’ll call, and he’s never broken a promise to her.

masterlist

A/N: I have too many thoughts on Season 3. So now I have too many fic ideas.

My parents and youngest siblings were out of the house, and my grandmother was on her own adventure somewhere via here station wagon. I took this as the opportunity to call my brother and his friends over and get them to spill the details about what they had been up to for the past few months.

Ever since Ruby came home at 11 o’clock at night, they had been acting secretive, Spooky included. After sticking my neck out for them when they were trying to clean the rollerworld money, I felt offended that they were hiding things from me again.

I was ready to bribe and torture them until they talked, but it was only a few minutes into the investigation and Ruby and Jamal were already squealing.

“- So now we have until July to find Lil’ Ricky before Cuchillos gets mad.”

Ruby and Jamal were breathing heavily after detailing everything that happened. Meanwhile, Monse and Cesar were glaring at them both for having such little will power.

“You mean to tell me,” I began, crossing my arms and knitting my eyebrows together. Ruby shrunk back down to his, knowing what was about to happen. “That you’ve been in the middle of a gang-affiliated vendetta for the past few months and I’m just only hearing about this now?! And after I helped you with the rollerworld money and convinced Spooky to help Cesar.”

Guilt washed over all four of their faces because they knew I was right. They recruited Jasmine and Oscar’s help almost as soon as they were tasked with the job, but left me in the dark until the very end. Ruby, having looked significantly more flushed than the others, stared down at his shoes as he spoke to defend the four of them.

“Oscar made us keep it from you,” he stated, voice trembling with fear, because he knew the kind of conflict this would create. Perhaps he hated the idea of me being mad at him more than he hated the thought of me being mad at Spooky.

“He did what?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just as his name was brought up in the conversation, a loud knock on the front door sounded throughout the living room area. Ruby’s eyes widened with horror, having become familiar with sound of Spooky’s knock from all the times he’d come over when my parents weren’t around.

It wasn’t until I opened the door that the other three caught on and sunk into their seats in terror. I was glaring at Oscar the moment I opened the door to him, but he was clueless, smiling like a fool because we hadn’t seen each other in a few days. When he glanced over my shoulder and saw the kids, however, he began to piece together what had happened.

“You have some explaining to do,” I stated bluntly, making my way back to where I stood in the living room- leaving Oscar to follow me inside without the traditional kiss we’d share as a greeting. “All of you do... So start talking.”

“You told her?”

“It was Ruby!” Jamal held his hand out and pointed at my brother, whose eyes somehow grew wider than they already were. I saw Oscar inhale deeply, flaring his nostrils while doing so, in the corner of my eye.

“She tortured it out of me! I’m not made of stone,” my brother retorted.

“All she did was yell at us,” Monse stated.

“Oh, you do not know my sister,” Ruby said defensively, holding his finger out in Monse’s direction. “The last time I made her that angry, she shaved one of my eyebrows off in my sleep, I wasn’t gonna take my chances-”

“Hey!” Spooky was glaring at all four of them, still unimpressed that they told me about what happened. “You four have done enough. Cesar, take ‘em and leave.”

One word was enough for Cesar to know what Oscar wanted him to do. He lances over at the other three, before getting up and heading towards the front door. They stood and followed him out, most likely to meet up again at Spooky’s house to discuss more plans behind my back.

I had grown tired of trying to avoid being kept in the dark, so I let them leave. Not to mention, it was Oscar who kept them from telling me what was happening, so it was him who I was mostly angry at.

“I can’t believe you, Spooky,” I scoffed, a beat after the door slammed shut and the kids were out of earshot. “You told them not to tell me? What the hell?!”

“I didn’t wanna get you involved,” he reasoned.

That was his reasoning for almost everything. I understood matters concerning the Santos. I understood the deals that went down between them and the prophets. Each of the jobs he had to do here and there because of it. But this wasn’t like that, and he knew it.

“So you don’t think I have a right to know when my brother’s in danger?” I placed my hand on my hip and waited two seconds for him to say something. When he didn’t, I beat him to it. “Since when do we keep shit like this from each other?”

He sighed when I brought that up. I knew that wasn’t what he meant to do, but that didn’t change the fact that Ruby was in danger and he kept it from me. He shoves his hand in his pocket, and I could already sense that he was about to say something stupid.

“You took Cesar in last summer without telling me.”

My eyes grew wide in frustration, and my mouth fell open. Spooky caught on almost instantly that bringing that up was doing the opposite of helping his argument, but that didn’t stop me from making it absolutely clear to him.

“So what? Because I didn’t want Cesar to sleep on the streets, it makes it okay for you to hide things about my brother from me?” Again, I waited a few seconds for Spooky to response, but there was nothing he could say. On the other hand, I still had a lot to get off my chest. “How would you feel if Cesar was in danger and I made sure you didn’t know about it?”

“Okay,” he sighed, his cheeks flushed because this was a rare moment; me scolding him. And about the protection of our brothers, of all things. “I get what you’re saying.”

“Oh do you?” I said sarcastically.

“Y/n,” Oscar reached for my hand, and I knew what he was doing. My boyfriend had so much charm. It had gotten him out of a lot of grudges and arguments, but not this one.

“Don’t,” I shrieked, yanking my hand away from him and stepping back. “- touch me. I’m really mad at you right now, Oscar... And I am so sick of you keeping shit from me. I’m so sick of watching the people I love be put in danger, and have no clue about what’s going on.”

He keeps his head down, and I know he’s caught on. This wasn’t the first time he kept important things from me. When Ruby was shot, I had no it was Latrelle who did it until Jamal told me at the hospital. When Mario was getting targeted by a group of Prophets, I didn’t find out until he came home bloody and bruised. When he was sent to prison, I didn’t find out until Cesar came knocking on my door with tears streaming down his face.

“I know you do it because you’re trying to look out for me,” I cried. As much as I enjoyed winning an argument, I didn’t scold Oscar to make him feel bad for doing what he genuinely thought was the right thing. “But it hurts more when I have to find out this way.”

Silence fills the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. I watched Spooky stare at the ground as he thinks something through in his mind.

“I’m handling it today,” he began, as finally looked up at me, his expression less stoic than its natural state. “Cuchillos... she’s taking a meeting she’s not walking out of. I’m gonna make damn sure of it.”

I could help but let out a sigh of relief. Even after the kids told me about their task to find Lil’ Ricky, they wouldn’t budge on talking about the rest of the plan. It felt good to know what was happening for once.

However the danger of the situation became alarming aware to me as I continued to process. I was beginning to empathise with Spooky as to why he kept things from me. The hurting was inevitable.

“Hey,” he whispered, after noting the tears brimming in my eyes. He took hold of my face as he closed the distance between us. “Look at me... Remember when I called you that time? Before I closed the deal with the prophets? I promised you I’d come home. And what did I do?”

“You came home,” I answered, after sniffling as I wiped my tears away.

“And when I did time,” he added, this time lifting his other hand to caress the other side of my face. “I promised you I’d get out early, and what happened?”

“You got out early,” I sighed.

For someone who had just lost an argument, and had put his life on the line several times beforehand, he made a really good point about keeping his word.

“Exactly, mi vida,” he smiled, gazing into my eyes until I began smiling back. It was hard staying mad at him. “I promise you I will handle this, and I promise I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

He gently pulled me closer to him, and kissed my temple, before hugging me close to his chest. I placed my hands on the backs of his shoulders and buried my face in the crook of his neck. I wanted to believe his promise, but I couldn’t help but savour the smell of his shirt... just in case.

***

“Y/n, c’mon I went to the mall just to get this for you.” Ruby was whining about buying me my favourite combo from my favourite food joint at his least favourite place- the mall. “He’s gonna call, Y/n... You having something to eat isn’t gonna affect that.”

My eyes had been glued to my phone for most of the three days in which Spooky was gone. And with passing moment, my anxiety and fear grew exponentially.

“Look, I gotta go,” he sighed, placing his hand on my shoulder. “We’re gonna hideout somewhere until it’s handled... but please eat something.”

I exhaled and put my phone down for the first time in several hours.

“Ok,” I breathed, before pulling the food closer to me. Ruby smiled and began heading towards the door. Before he reached it I called out to him. “And Ruby?... Be careful.”

He came back to me, and kissed me on the forehead before leaving with his duffel bag on him. It was difficult eating my dinner alone, with two of my favourite guys gone.

My abuelita came home after an hour, by which I had made myself comfortable on the living room couch. She sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand and her sewing job in the other.

I had began drifting to sleep, by the time it was nightfall. My grandmother must have took notice, because I had my eyes closed for a few minutes and by the time I opened them again, she had placed a blanket over me.

Then, just as I was about to call it a night, and head to my bedroom for yet another night of half-sleeping and half-staying alert for Oscar’s call, there was a knock at our front door. I sat up instantly.

Turning to my grandmother who looked just as I confused as I did I concluded that the only person who would be knocking at the time of the night would not be good news. Ruby had his own key, and so did my parents.

With one hand on Mario’s ld baseball bat, I slowly made my way to the door. As I pulled it open, I gasped in horror.

“Spooky?” I had never seen him with so many cuts and bruises. Without hesitating, I swung his arm over my shoulder and helped him inside. “Abuelita? Abuelita, get your sewing kit.”

After sitting him down at our kitchen table, I held his hand and winced while my grandmother stitched his wounds up. Even in the state he was in, Spooky still had the nerve to chuckle at how squeamish I was. I wasn’t typically faint-hearted, but something about these wounds being on Spooky made my skin crawl.

“Thank you,” my abuelita whispered to Oscar as she finished stitching up his last wound.

“For what?”

“You know what,” she replied, smiling at him. I squeezed his hand and he lifted mine to his lips. Even beaten and bruised, he was still charming as ever. “So... what are you gonna do with the money?”

He turned his head to my abuelita, and he smiled. She nodded, as if she understood exactly what he was trying to communicate, but I was still clueless. Silently, she stood up and walked into one of the bedrooms to give us privacy. I finished placing a bandage over Oscar’s neck, when I noticed him staring at me.

“What?” I asked softly. He reached for my hand and interlocked our fingers together. I put my hand on his lap and gave him my attention.

“You still mad at me?”

“No,” I smiled, before taking the bottle of booze he’d been drinking and taking a gulp of it for myself. I needed it after watching my grandmother stitch him up. After putting the bottle back onto the table, it dawned on me what he had done. “... Is it really over?”

He took hold of my face and pressed our temples against one another. As I gazed at him with worried eyes, he smiled- more confident than ever.

“I handled it, baby.” He chuckled lightly, like getting it done didn’t cost him a few days of getting beaten and battered. “And I can finally get out... We can finally get out.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that one of his motives, aside from saving the kids, was finding a way out. Ever since his affiliation with the Santos became explicit involvement, we fantasised a life away from Freeridge. It was finally becoming and option for us.

That’s what he was gonna use the money for.

I leaned closer to him and kissed him softly. He stroked my cheek, while I held onto his wrist, too afraid to hurt him by touching one of his facial cuts accidentally. As I pulled away, I thought back to our last argument.

“No more secrets?”

Spooky shook his head before, lifting his head to kiss my forehead. He made sure to lift my chin and grin at me before shaking his head once more.

“No más.”

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that-one-bi-wizard · 3 years

Text

I wrote a lil Komagami one-shot cuz it’s such and underrated ship that there’s hardly any fics for them. Here’s the link to it on ao3 if you wanna read it there.

It’s also here, so I hope you enjoy it :3

Byakuya knew what he was doing was dangerous.

He knew all too well. If his father found out, he could be disowned by the family.

It was hammered in his head at a young age that this was wrong. That he was only meant to couple with women to produce the next heirs to inherit the family business. He was under no circumstances allowed to develop romantic feelings for them. And with this being the case, it was even worse if he developed feelings for a man.

“Not only will it ruin the Togami family image,” his father had said, “but it’s not right for two men to be together. It’s unnatural.”

To Byakuya, that seemed a bit hypocritical to say when, not even a week later, his father introduced him to a handsome young man that he was to get close to. He was a part of the Komaeda family. Another wealthy family who had ties to the Togamis.

The young man was around Byakuya’s age, give or take a few years older. As mentioned, he was the heir to the Komaeda’s family fortune, so he and Byakuya were introduced to get to know each other to keep the ties with each other's families.

The first time they spent time alone was when they were young teenagers, and Komaeda’s father had a meeting with Togami’s.

Byakuya sat on the couch across from the young man. He sat with his back straight and tried to look as uninterested as he possibly could, despite his curiosity. He gave the other one of his signature glares with his piercing blue eyes, and the other just smiled.

It was the Komaeda boy that broke the silence.

“Hi! My name is Komaeda Nagito, but you already knew that,” the boy said with a smile. “Byakuya, correct?”

Byakuya nodded solemnly.

Nagito got up and sat next to Byakuya. “I must say, it’s an honor to even be in the presence of someone such as yourself.”

Byakuya said nothing. He blinked slowly and kept his unimpressed expression.

Nagito continued going on about how he wasn’t worthy of even meeting him and how highly he thought of the Togami’s.

Byakuya had heard it all before but eventually cut Nagito off when he started talking down on himself.

“What are you going on about?” Byakuya said. “You’re no less important than anyone else in this room, so stop that.”

Nagito seemed a bit surprised by this. He tilted his head. “But it’s all true. I’m a nobody-”

“Shut up!” Byakuya said, raising his voice slightly. “If you were nobody, then I wouldn’t be giving you the time of day. You're much more important than you give yourself credit for.”

Nagito seemed to stiffen. He had an expression as though no one had ever told him that before. “Y-You think… I’m important?”

Byakuya realized what he said and looked away. “In an objective sense… yes.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Thank you.”

Byakuya turned back and almost jumped when he saw Nagito only inches away from his face. However, he kept his composure.

“What?”

“Thank you,” Nagito repeated. “That means a lot coming from someone with as high a status as yourself.”

“Yes well... “ He looked away from Nagito’s gray eyes. “We might not be on the same level, but you’re certainly close.”

Nagito smiled.

It was actually quite cute. Along with how strands of his messy, white hair fell into his face and how some stood on end as though they had a mind of their own…

He mentally slapped himself.

No. He thought to himself. Father said it was wrong to think of a man in that sense. Don’t go falling for him. He’s just an associate. Nothing more.

Needless to say, this way of thinking diminished the older they got.

Byakuya let himself bend his father’s rules just a little bit.

Would he be mad if he found out? Absolutely. But Byakuya was careful enough to not get caught up to this point, so he let himself get a little more daring.

When they were in their late teens, Byakuya found himself with his lips on Komaeda’s.

And the rest was history.

Now, as young adults, Byakuya found himself lying next to the Komaeda boy in bed.

He had his arms wrapped around Byakuya’s waist, his head resting on the taller boy’s bare chest. His breathing was soft. Byakuya could feel the warm breaths on his skin.

He had an arm around the other, holding him close. His grip on Nagito was tight, like if he let the other go, he’d disappear into thin air.

It was almost like a dream to him.

The dim moonlight coming in through the window. The quiet noise of crickets from outside. The handsome young man cuddled up next to him.

This couldn't be real.

Byakuya checked the clock on his nightstand and let out a sigh. He reluctantly let go of the white-haired boy and stood up.

The dream had to come to an end at some point. It always did.

Nagito opened his eyes and blinked tiredly. “Togami…”

He rubbed his eyes and watched as the young man picked his clothes up off the floor and began getting dressed. Byakuya gave him a look.

“You better get dressed,” Byakuya said solemnly. “My father will be home soon, so I suggest you gather your belongings and help me clean up.”

The older boy sat up with the blanket covering his lap. He ran a hand through his hair.

Byakuya noticed him sitting and not doing as he was told. He buttoned up his shirt and walked over, noticing the look on Nagito’s face. “What are you so down about? It’s always been like this. I don’t see why tonight was any different.” He handed Nagito his shirt.

The other held it in his hands. “It’s just…” He trailed off.

“Just what?” Byakuya asked.

“Don’t you wonder how much longer we can keep going like this? Someone is bound to find out sooner or later.”

“Not with how we’ve been,” Byakuya answered. He sat next to the boy and continued buttoning his shirt. “I’ve taken every precaution to make sure no one finds out about what we have. It’s all planned-”

“Oh no, I understand that,” Nagito said, playing with the sleeve of his shirt. “I would never question your intelligence, but I wonder…” He stared Byakuya in the eyes. “...will we ever be able to do this without having to sneak around?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say, Komaeda?”

“I mean that I don’t want to be sneaking around anymore,” he said. “I want to be able to be by your side in public, not just after dark. I don’t want to have to wait until no one can see us to be able to even just hold your hand.”

Byakuya bit the inside of his cheek. His leg bounced as he thought for a moment. “One day, perhaps.” He stood up. “But not to today. I’m not ready to face my father’s wrath just yet.” He leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on Nagito’s lips.

Nagito kissed back lightly, but the other pulled away all too quickly.

“It’s our little secret for now, okay?”

Nagito nodded. He reached out to touch the other’s face. Byakuya held the other’s hand to his cheek for a moment. As if realizing what he was doing, he immediately let go of the other’s hand.

“Now get dressed,” Byakuya said, throwing Nagito's pants at him. “We don’t want to get caught.”

Nagito pulled on his clothes and met the already dressed Byakuya outside his room.

“Ah, perfect,” Byakuya stated. “Come along. We still have time.” He held out his hand for Nagito to take.

Nagito took it and let Byakuya lead him through the gigantic mansion. They passed a few rooms until they got to a balcony that overlooked the city.

They walked out onto the balcony still holding hands.

Byakuya leaned on the railing to look down at the city while the other stared up at the stars. Byakuya smiled.

“Enjoying the sight?”

Nagito smirked. “I’ve seen better.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Mm-hm.”

Byakuya let out a puff of air. He turned his head to look at Nagito and noticed how his gray eyes shimmered in the moonlight. The light breeze pushed the hair from his face. “I feel inclined to say the same thing.”

Nagito chuckled. “Oh really?”

He fully turned to face Nagito and brought his hand up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on it. “Yes.”

He leaned in to close the space between their lips but noticed a bright light flash out of the corner of his eye. He recognized it as the headlights to one of his father’s cars.

Byakuya pulled away before their lips could collide. Nagito seemed to notice the lights as well and nodded. “I guess I’ll be leaving then.”

“That’s probably a good idea. He won’t see you going out the back.”

Nagito nodded. “Got it.” He hesitated then quickly pecked the taller boy’s lips. “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you…”

But Nagito was gone before he could hear Byakuya.

Byakuya’s face fell back into its regular stone cold expression.

He had confidence that Nagito would make it out without being seen. They had done this countless times that he knew the routine already.

Byakuya left the balcony, closing the doors behind him. He made his way downstairs to greet his father.

And with that, he fell back into reality.

#danganronpa #byakuya togami #nagito komaeda #Nagito x Byakuya #byakuya x nagito #komagami #danganronpa au #danganronpa fanfiction #jay tries to write

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

Text

13. Close Your Eyes, Ivy

"We had a visitor, it seems," Erik muttered returning to Ivy's side in a smooth unhurried stroll. He was home free at least until the next threat, which he figured.. would be a while. He had days before he needed to worry about it. With a spray bottle of water and a black towel in hand, he looked on the young and delightful Ms. Stevens strapped by red rope to his french chaise. She had gotten a bit of blood on it, but it was a nice contrast. A nice picture in totality. He covered the ornate work on her thigh with the black towel and pressed down, holding her thigh firmly to stop the bleeding.

"That officer," he sighed. "The one you called?" Her eyes brightened briefly with recognition. "Yeah, her. She's a idiot."

The roll of her eyes showed that she agreed and Erik smirked.

"Can you believe... the bitch came here to investigate me, yet she actually drank what the fuck I gave her?"

He had to laugh at that. Ivy didn't laugh, but she had to have found it as funny as he did. The whole thing was ridiculous. The police come just to end up captive by the nigga they came to question.

"You can't write shit like this," he laughed, his weight still on her thigh.

"Tell me, who does that shit? Oh yeah.. You."

Her eyes stared ahead. Though verbally she was unresponsive, her body could not block its reactions and neither could her face. He put a little more pressure on the towel not missing her expression as she tried her best to control it. Pain was what she felt.

"Hold on Little Ivy," he smiled. "Almost done."

After putting pressure on her thigh for a few minutes, he lifted the towel. "Typically, I'd suggest stitches for cuts like these but nah.. these are too pretty. Let's let it air out a minute," he said walking slowly to take a seat on a couch facing her.

She didn't look well. Her face, it looked tired as though she were exhausted, dehydrated, low in energy. He decided to let her rest a few minutes more, saying nothing as she stared at him. He simply stared back as he sat on the couch.

Her eyes began to droop as he stared, wide awake. After another minute, her eyes shut and held. He counted one, two, three, four.. before her green and red eyes popped open again focusing warily on his. They struggled to stay, even crossing, and he sighed, not getting enjoyment from it at all.

"Close your eyes, Ivy," he commanded standing to his feet. She needed a few hours of rest at the least. He much preferred her to be awake and aware for their games. In the meantime, he could be starting on another set of custom grillz.

Heading out of his living room, he shit the soundproof door leaving her in there. Should she call, he had the monitor on where he could see and hear her. Until then, he had another creative hobby to attend to.

---

"Oh.. Look whose finally coming to," a thick Carribean accent came through the haze as Trinity's head pounded and pulsed.

"Where the hell am I," she blinked noticing that she was on the floor on her back looking up at a ceiling. She wanted to panic, but training had taught her to remain calm in uncertainty. Turning her head, the ache was like a mallet pounding ice, but the ice was her head. There was an older woman sitting proudly on a couch with a glass in hand, legs crossed and staring in disapproval.

"Funny how the tables turn," she glared taking a sip before waving her hands in anger. "If you'd just done your job to start with wouldn't NONE of us be in this mess! You put my daughter at risk," she pointed. "And now Lord knows what's happened to her." Her face turned glum as she rolled her eyes looking away.

Trinity rolled herself onto her side gingerly and hoisted her body, resting on her arms. Finally upright, she was able to right herself completely and stand, wavering on her feet. She sighed before addressing the angry older woman. "Mrs. Stevens..," she recalled feeling the back of her head. She checked her hand. No blood. The woman's green eyes were memorable. The family resemblance was strong.

"You shoulda died right on that floor."

"The way I feel, Ms. Stevens, I might have," Trinity retorted. She felt horrible like she'd been hit by a bus. Groaning, she held the sides of her head tightly. "I always knew liquor would be the death of me.."

"You're a damn addict."

"No, Mrs. Stevens, I'm an alcoholic. My job is very stressful... As you can see," she gestured to the room they were enclosed in. Though clean and stocked, it was indeed a prison.

"No, officer. You're a glorified idiot with a badge is what you are and your damned reckless stupidity is gonna get us all killed."

Trinity glared. The woman didn't seem so Christian with all the venom she was spewing, but Trinity could understand. She was angry for good reason. That's as far as Trinity planned to go down that train of thought.

"Attacking me isn't gonna solve the issue. We need to find a way out of here." Checking her sides and pockets, she patted her body down for some sort of communication. Some item. Anything that could be useful. She came up empty-handed, sighing as she looked at the unimpressed Mrs. Stevens, who did nothing but take another sip of whatever liquid was in her cup.

"You think I didn't try that already," Mrs. Stevens scoffed. "Gal, I searched your tall behind hours ago. That lil nappy headed boy done took everything ya got."

"What can you tell me about what you've experienced with him? Any weaknesses? Accomplices? How often does he come back here? How long have you been here?"

"If you think.. I'm counting on you for anything.. you are out of your wretched mind."

Trinity looked at Mrs. Stevens face that was set in stone. She was on her own in figuring a way out. She needed a way to make it to her vehicle.

"Look," Trinity's chin dropped. She was serious, catching Mrs. Stevens eyes to make sure she understood. "When he comes in here, I need to get out of here and get to my cruiser. If I can do that, I can call backup and then we can save your daughter."

"Now why wouldn't you call backup when investigating an abduction and claims of attempted murder from the start? Hm? Ask yourself that, Ms. Hot in the Pants? What type of police work is that?" She kissed her teeth. "Oh, what, you thought you'd somehow dazzle him with your rugged looks? Turn him somewhat-normal? The foolishness in this girl, Lord," she whispered, eyes shut.

Trinity looked down briefly out of respect.

"Yeah. I could've brought backup initially.." She made eye contact again. "But-"

"There is no but. You should've brought backup! You were cocky and thought you had it. Ain't no further explaining need to be done. Now I'm sick of hearing from you. If I see an opportunity, I'm taking it."

"Ain't no opportunity," Erik announced through the speaker he'd installed in the room. The both of them jumped looking about the room. Meanwhile, he shook his head. They didn't understand their predicament but they'd be well cared for. As long as they didn't fuck up. Particularly, Mrs. Stevens. She had produced a fine specimen afterall. The officer, he had to think about.

#dentist #original #erik x oc #killmonger fic #erik killmonger #black panther killmonger

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knives-out20 · 3 years

Text

KISS And The Buddies - Cliff Booth x Male!OC

Fandom: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)

Pairing: Bobby Brightside (OC) x Cliff Booth

Warnings: KISS, Swearing, Faggotry, Expecting homophobia, Fanboys being fanboys, My interpretation of real people,

Notes: Yea....Yea. It lines up, before anyone asks; OUATIH was set in 1969, KISS formed in 1973. That’s a pretty small year gap. My buddy’s going through a KISS phase and dragged my willing ass into it (I remember ogling KISS as a kid when they were on Fairly Odd Parents) so...yea. Hey, at least it gave me motivation to write for Clobby, right? Enjoy!

Dedicated To: @mori-ohs

Bobby, the Buddies, and Cliff stood on stage, looking around in absolute wonder. “Holy shit...” He breathed, stars in his eyes.

Then, four stars appeared in front of him: Gene, Ace, Peter, and Starchild.

Cliff eyed each individual member of the new band Bobby loved so much. “So...this is KISS?” He inquired.

“Mhm, aren’t they cool?” Bobby hummed, smiling slightly. He was absolutely thrilled that KISS was letting Bobby and his Buddies open for them. It would gain them more exposure, and hopefully more fans!

Cliff was silent for a moment. “Which one’s Starchild?”

“I- what do you mean which one’s Starchild?” Bobby scoffed.

“Well, that one-” Cliff pointed at Starchild, “has a star over one eye. And that one,” he then pointed at Ace. “Has silver stars over both of his eyes. So...” Cliff shrugged, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his pocket. He offered the members of KISS a quick smile. Cliff’s gaze turned to Peter, “he looks like a cat.”

Peep, Deep, and Beep snickered from where they were.

Cliff turned his attention to Gene, the tallest of the group- certainly because of those boots, it made the man look massive. “Lemme guess. Gene?”

“Yessir” Monte nodded as he passed by.

“What’re all their names, again?”

Bobby purposely listed them out in the order they stood in, hoping Cliff would catch on. “Gene, Ace, Peter, and Starchild.”

Cliff nodded slowly. He pointed at the members in that exact order, “Gene, Ace, Peter, then Starchild.”

Bobby grinned up at Cliff, “yea.”

Cliff looked back over at Gene, sizing him up because he’s the biggest.

Silence ensued.

Cliff chuckled. “He’s not that sca-”

Gene grinned, lunging forward and sticking his tongue out.

Cliff swore under his breath, jumping back and clutching his chest.

Bobby’s smiling jaw dropped as he looked up at Cliff, amazed. He’s never seen Cliff get scared of anything, before! Bobby’s only ever seen Cliff be the scary or intimidating one.

Damien snorted by the drums, turning away. This was too funny.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Shut up-” Cliff groaned.

“You got scared...of Gene.”

“I didn’t man-”

“Yes, you did, oh my god, did you guys fucking see that?” Bobby asked, turning to his Buddies, who all held back smiles and laughs. “Oh, I’m never letting you live that down, b-” he quickly caught himself, “Cliff.”

Cliff rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “So you said Gene, Ace, Peter, and Starchild. What, do Gene ‘n’ Peter get stage names or are Ace and Starchild just...special?”

“They do, actually” Maria piped up. “Demon and Catman.”

Cliff looked unimpressed. “Bobby said sum’n about Gene making caskets as merch?”

“You want one?” Gene smirked.

“No.”

Bobby pat his arm. “If it’s any help, Cliffy, if you had died right then and there, then I would’ve, like, sworn off of KISS forever. I swear!” He put his arms up.

Cliff looked down at him, suspicious.

Bobby giggled. “I would’ve buried you in the KISS casket-”

Cliff nudged him.

“Caskets? As merch?” Damien exhaled through his nose.

“And toilets, my idea” Gene put his hands on his hips, as Peter walked over to his drums. “Pretty cool, Bobby?”

Damien tilted his head. “...Bobster, can we-”

“No, Damien” Bobby shook his head.

Deep sighed, “rats!” He cursed to himself, Beep playfully shoving him.

“Any of you got stage names? Bobby?” Starchild questioned.

“No, Bobby’s very much my real fuckin’ name. Uhm...Those three over there are Peep, Deep, ‘n’ Beep. Their real names are Penelope, Derek, and Benji. When they’re not in my band, they’re a comedic trio” Bobby explained.

“Oh, really, Bobby?” Ace snorted. “Tell us a joke.”

The Sweeney triplets exchanged glances.

“Why are bananas like people?” Peep started.

“What the f- why?” Deep asked back.

“You peel the skin and eat them, they die” Beep brought up the punchline, throwing Bobby and his Buddies into a fit of hysterics.

Cliff arched a brow, chortling softly as he noted a couple of the members of KISS trying to fight back smiles and failing.

Starchild quickly calmed down. “Also, you said there were eight of you in your lil’ band.”

“He called us a band-” Peep squealed.

“I know!” Damien whispered back to him, the two giggling in excitement as Bobby counted heads.

“W-Where’s Frankie?” Bobby stuttered, looking around. “Wait, no, there he is” he sighed in relief, catching Frankie in quiet conversation with Peter. “I knew those two would click” Bobby smiled, remembering how it was Peter who found them and introduced them to KISS earlier in the month.

Starchild brought Bobby and the Buddies on stage, showing them around. “And this is where-”

“Where’s Ace?” Bobby inquired.

Starchild blinked. “Eh?”

“Where’s Ace?”

“Where’s Ace?” Damien repeated, followed by Maria, Peep, Deep, Beep, and Monte.

Not Frankie, though. Frankie was just happy to be there and have that opportunity.

Ace appeared from backstage, already drunk off of two wines. “Hello?” He called, having been summoned.

Bobby and the Buddies shared frantically excited giggles and balled fists, chanting. “Space Ace Space Ace Space Ace Space Ace-”

Ace hiccuped, nudging Starchild with his elbow. “Well, what do ya know? They like me.”

Bobby chuckled, glancing down at the stage floor. He pat Cliff’s hand, leaving the blond’s side to go help the Buddies set the stage.

***

Fast forward a bit, the bands were nearly ready to perform.

Bobby walked past KISS, to the east end of the stage, having spotted Cliff. “Hey, babe, who’d you leave Brandy with?” He harmlessly asked, hand flying over his mouth as soon as the question ended. Bobby’s brown eyes went wide, his face filling with nothing but pure, unadulterated fear. “Shit.” He shakily whispered, the most genuinely afraid he’s been in ages,

Cliff looked back over at him, just as surprised but not as scared.

Bobby’s mind began racing. Shit, shit, fuck, shit, goddammit. Did he just lose the world’s greatest gig, did he actually? The thought brought him close to tears, the tension filling the air could be cut by a guitar shred.

His Buddies all darted their heads in his direction, then at the four members of KISS. The Buddies stood, ready to seriously jump KISS in order to protect Bobby if it came down to it.

Cliff slowly rose from his seat, eyeing the four men. He stepped closer to Bobby, neither he nor Bobby nor the Buddies knowing that in actuality, Bobby’s way of life was completely safe.

No one said anything or made a move for fuck knows how long, Frankie practically choking on the silence.

Then, Ace spoke up.

“Okay, uhm...” Ace started up. “That is- that’s clearly none of OUR business” he gestured vaguely towards his fellow KISS members, then himself. “But uhm, if you’re worried that we’re gonna call you a slur or something like that, then don’t sweat it, Bobby.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “Yea, Bobby. I mean...you love who you love, God made you with the best intentions in mind. You dating who you do was no mistake” he encouraged, tapping his drumsticks together.

Ace continued, getting hyped up with what Peter put down. “Yea! I mean, I’ve kissed GENE before, but even still, but no one cares who you sleep with, man! A score is a score, isn’t that right, Demon?”

“Yea, Ace’s right, Bobby. All that matters to us as a band is that you get the crowd pumped for our show, you got that?” Gene pointed at him, Starchild warmly nodding along.

Bobby and Cliff stared back in silence.

Monte turned his head, hearing a noise. “Are you...crying-?”

“No- shut up-” Frankie denied, clearly crying.

Bobby opened his mouth to say something, but he was clearly speechless. He raised a finger to speak on that ‘God’ thing, since he firmly believed that Cliff was God.

Cliff pushed Bobby’s hand down, “not right now, baby.”

Starchild tapped his foot. “Plus, Cliff came t’pick you up when I first showed you around stage. We all saw him kiss ya” he smiled.

“Oh my god-” Bobby buried his face in his hands, embarrassed.

Cliff pulled Bobby closer, smiling softly down at him. “Give him a minute” he teased.

#ouatih #ouatih oc #Once Upon A Time In Hollywood #once upon a time in hollywood oc #Cliff Booth #cliff booth x male #cliff booth x male!oc #cliff booth x oc #johnny depp oc #young johnny depp oc #male oc #oc #male x male #male x oc #male x canon #oc x canon #oc x male #canon x male #canon x oc

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fourangers · 4 years

Text

Kakashi’s exposé

Dedicated to @rivaille-plisetsky that suggested the prompt:

Post-War shenanigans with Kakashi being the only one with knowledge of their relationship

So here it is! I hope you’ll like it. SNS, with a tiny bit one-sided Sakura --> Sasuke, and sex insinuations. Comedy and it’s a lil to the side of crack.

AO3 link

==.==.==

Somehow, some way, it just clicked. Maybe it was due to exhaustion, or Sakura's confession still fresh in his mind but Kakashi witnessed the way Sasuke was looking at his best friend/rival/nemesis, how affection warmed his black eyes mixed with longing and burning intensity and it was just…oh. Oh. OoooooOooH.

Everything made sense now. It's no wonder he was so desperate to cut off his bonds with Naruto and why it brought him so much pain to do so.

Kakashi just stood mildly shocked as his eyes followed his previous students' behavior, from Sakura's relieved smile, Naruto's wide beam and Sasuke's gaze constantly trained towards the blond nin.

Ah…to be young and naive.

⏤.⏤

Kakashi had a hard time feigning surprise when he saw both boys tucked together, blissfully sleeping on the small bed at the hospital. Sakura, on the other hand, was so happy about Sasuke's return that she didn't connect the dots yet.

The next few months was a cumbersome process of finding solid proofs about the Uchiha's massacre tying with Konoha's higher office corruption, since the elders were eager to throw Sasuke in jail while he was still recuperating from his wounds. Fortunately Naruto called Shikamaru for help as they searched in the archives with Tsunade's permission.

Soon enough all the guilty were charged for conspiracy in ethnic cleansing and thrown behind bars. Sasuke also spent some time in jail for multiple attempts of murder against the 5 kages, but thankfully due to his contributions in ending the latest ninja war and Naruto’s constant nagging with Tsunade, he was set free.

Naruto and Kakashi both expected that Sasuke would bolt out of Konoha the second he was unchained. However, much to their puzzled astonishment, the last Uchiha had decided to settle down. He even took the chuunin exams with Naruto as some sort of proof that he desired to get back being a Konoha citizen. As if there was something(someone) that rooted him to the ground.

When Sasuke reached 18 years old, Kakashi gifted him a special Icha Icha book with prim pride.

Sasuke glanced at the title, glared his ex-teacher with his face bright red, and promptly hid when they noticed Naruto’s chakra close by. Several comrades joined in afterwards, some were part of the rookie nine, other were Sasuke’s current teammates, all gathered to celebrate his birthday.

Through the course of that night, wherever Sasuke would go, Ino and Sakura were on his toes once again, vying for his attention. It was a confusing realization for Kakashi, that even if Sakura was now an accomplished medic-nin and jounin, she would revert to her pre-teen self once Sasuke was around. Kakashi simply observed in between sips of sake while Sakura fussed over Sasuke with her doe-eyed expression, and Sasuke tolerated her presence with the smallest furrow on his handsome face. Black eyes flickered towards Naruto’s back, before he exhaled a heavy sigh, calling Sakura much to Ino’s annoyance.

On the next day, the news about Sasuke and Sakura dating was the talk of the whole town. Or rather, how Sakura was running behind her beloved wherever they go, emerald eyes glimmering like a little girl winning the affection of her idolized popular boy.

This is bizarre; Kakashi concluded watching the one-sided interactions. Those youngsters were just too much for him sometimes.

Naruto swore that he welcomed this new development with open arms, really, like…really. He’d accept no one else but Sasuke, if he was going to lose Sakura’s hand to another man. But Kakashi could notice the tightness of his grins whenever team 7 would reunite, but whether he was jealous over Sakura or Sasuke, no one would ever know.

Months have passed and Sasuke was slowly entering a dangerous territory, returning to his personal darkness that few could reach. Maybe it was due to Sakura’s impatience that their relationship got stuck since day one, or how she finally broke the illusion that her idol was just a regular man, so she was currently much more content spending her time with Ino nowadays. Maybe it was because his friendship with Naruto was becoming strained over the days. Maybe the Hyuuga’s heiress bold approach towards his best friend was grating Sasuke’s nerves.

Kakashi sighed. They were so much cuter back when they were little genins.

But Kakashi was; he hoped, wiser now. The accumulated experience he built up all over those years brought him a wider scope about how he should handle human emotions and its complexities. He wouldn't make the same mistake he had done before, unlike last time when he failed talking some sense to pre-teen Sasuke.

He stood up, hopping on the direction towards Naruto’s house.

⏤.⏤

One year later…

Konohamaru cleared his throat, knocking on the door. He heard grumbles, quiet steps and then the door was pried open with a pair of glaring eyes.

He gulped. “Good morning. Is Naruto-niichan nearby?”

Sasuke thinned his lips, turning around. “Cooking breakfast.”

Konohamaru gave a brisk nod, striding towards the kitchen and being greeted by Naruto’s wide gin.

“Hey Konohamaru! ‘Sup?”

“Naruto-niichan! It’s your first day in the Hokage’s apprenticeship, are you excited?”

“Sure am! Man, can’t believe that Tsunade-baachan is going to pass the torch to me, I thought for sure they were going to choose Kakashi-sensei that⏤”

“Oh? Talking about me?”

Konohamaru and Naruto shrieked when they heard Kakashi’s sudden chime, Sasuke stood leaning on the wall unimpressed.

The older man said. “Ah, here I was coming here to congratulate my former protegée, and all I hear is Naruto-kun talking behind my back. You’re hurting my fragile heart.”

“Can’t you knock on the door like a regular person? You almost gave me a heart attack dammit.” Naruto complained, rubbing his chest.

“Another reason why I’m questioning Konoha’s decision to make you the next Hokage. I assumed the prerequisite for such an important job was to master basic moves like noticing someone’s chakra when they are close by, dumbass.” Sasuke scoffed.

“Say what, you asshole⏤”

“As much as I’d love to get down the memory lane watching you boys bicker, I’m here to give you a gift, Naruto.” Kakashi placed several books on the table. “My entire Icha Icha collection. All signed by Jiraiya-sama.”

Naruto stared wide-eyed once the information sank in, picking up one book as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He leafed through pages, smiling fondly when he read Jiraiya’s message. They let Naruto take his time browsing through the books, even Sasuke curbed his usual teasing barb too.

The Uchiha nin seemed to realize something, coughing. “Well, since Kakashi already gave you his present, I suppose I should also give you mine.”

Naruto’s eyes were narrowed and suspicious. “And what exactly you’re gonna give me, bastard?”

Sasuke smirked, throwing his arm around Naruto’s shoulder and directing to their bedroom. “You’ll enjoy it, for sure.”

Konohamaru and Kakashi watched as Naruto was dragged by Sasuke. Konohamaru muttered. “Well, I guess I’ll wait here until they are done. I was also gonna give Naruto-niichan my gift.”

Oh. “Ooooh, there’s no need for you to wait this long Konohamaru-kun. You can give him once we’re in Konoha’s headquarters.”

“What? I can wait a little, I mean⏤”

Kakashi patted the younger nin’s shoulder as he hurried them to the exit. “I have a feeling they are going to take a while, so we better go.”

Several months had passed and Naruto was beginning to get used to the hectic schedule of being Tsunade’s apprentice. The assistants were also smoothly adapting with his working style too, most comfortable with his friendliness.

The rare exceptions were when Naruto’s best friend would go to a long term mission, and the sunny personality will cloud to a petulant pout.

“Naruto.” Everyone jumped startled from the familiar baritone voice, swiveling their heads to see Sasuke perched on the window.

Naruto instantly brightened up, turning back to face their assistants as he declared. “Hey guys! Sasuke is here so I’m gonna go ok, ‘s gonna be really quick I swear. Be right back, be right back!” Both Naruto and Sasuke disappeared in a cloud of poof.

The assistants shrugged, some even rolled his eyes while they resumed their work.

⏤.⏤

How odd it was that whenever Sasuke was around though, Naruto would always blink out of their eyes. For someone who wore neon orange outfit and had bright golden hair in midst of an ocean of dark heads, Naruto could disappear without an effort.

Saeko rubbed her shoulders while she searched the aforementioned blond nin, seeking his signature. She’s way past her prime to be able to find a strong shinobi like Naruto-kun.

Fortunately for her, she spotted Kakashi from afar, calling him. “Kakashi-kun!”

Kakashi acknowledged her with a nod.

“Have you seen Naruto-kun? I really need his signature to authorize a new mission.” She sighed.

Kakashi chuckled. “Well…in case you can’t see him, I guess you could look around and try to find Sasuke instead.”

“Ah right…Uchiha-kun right.” Saeko shook her head. “They are almost attached to the hip.”

“Right.”

“Such a beautiful friendship between those two boys, right?”

Kakashi stared the old lady before settled with a hum.

“They need to settle down and find a good ladies in their lives though.” She quipped with chiding tone. “Why are they taking so long to get married, I wonder. Youngsters those days are in no hurry to build a family, they are exactly like that Yamanaka girl; living with her best friend Haruno-chan.”

Kakashi hummed absentmindedly once again.

Almost as if he was reading their minds, Sasuke exited the toilet in front of them, licking his lips as his finger wiped his mouth.

“Ah, Uchiha-kun!” Saeko tightened her steps, approaching him. “Have you seen Naruto-kun anywhere?”

Sasuke glanced at her back, then gazed Kakashi’s amused eyes, shrugging. “Behind me.”

“Behind y⏤?” Lo and behold, the future Hokage opened the door a little breathless and disheveled, hand combing through his golden hair.

His cheeks were tinged red but he soon recomposed himself when he saw the old lady. “Oh hey, Saeko-san, Kakashi-sensei! Why are you⏤”

“Naruto-kun, you’re going to be the death of this old woman, I swear!” Saeko interrupted him, shoving the papers on his face. “I know that Uchiha-kun is your best friend but do you really need to have him next to you 24/7?”

“I’m sure that Naruto-kun would happily perform his tasks as the Hokage apprentice, normally…” Kakashi muttered. “But I guess Sasuke just missed him too much.”

Sasuke glared, rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you soon Naruto.”

Saeko concluded that their friendship is really one of a kind, watching Uchiha-kun’s back as Naruto was signing her papers. Gossip around town said that a female shinobi might disrupt such cozy relationship, even though Sasuke kept turning down every date request. There was a bet about which man would find a girlfriend first, however, Kakashi almost zeroed his bank account with the belief that his former students wouldn’t find any girl whatsoever.

Every female shinobi dedicated their time to seduce either the last Uchiha or the future of Hokage of Konoha. This also meant that they were thinning Sasuke’s very limited patience, their constant pestering wouldn’t give them some time for themselves.

⏤.⏤

“Naruto-niichan! Wow, you lucky dog!” Konohamaru chirped when he spotted his friend in the corridor, punching the tanned arm playfully. “I can’t believe this⏤!”

“Believe what, Konohamaru?” Naruto questioned.

“Haven’t you heard? Tomoko Saiyuri, the most gorgeous woman of all Konoha is actually going to ask you on a date!”

“He’s not interested.” Sasuke grunted.

“Oh, c’mon Sasuke-niichan, I know you might be sore because she chose Naruto-niichan instead of you, but there’s no way Naruto-niichan wouldn’t be interested because⏤”

“But he’s not interested, he’s not available, he won’t do anything with her.” Sasuke hissed.

“Uh, yeah…Konohamaru, why would I be interested?” Naruto squinted his eyes puzzled. “I’m honored, honestly, but where did you get the idea I would⏤”

“You know that this is your fault right.” Sasuke snapped towards Naruto.

“What?” Naruto grumbled.

“You give too many openings, people are still thinking you’re available.”

“Uh…wait, Naruto-niichan, does that mean you’re actually seeing someone⏤?”

“Wait, don’t put the blame on me, asshole. Where in the hell did I show that I’m available?”

“Well, you’re such an oblivious dumbass, that you wouldn’t realize yours and anyone’s feelings even if it’s right under your nose.” Sasuke muttered under his breath. “Maybe this is the reason why everyone is also blind about us.”

Naruto stared for a while with his jaw slacked, before blurting out. “We live together, I thought everyone knew.”

“Most think we’re just roommates, some still believe that you’re guarding me while I’m on house arrest.”

“What? We share a bed.”

“They think we didn’t find a good house with two bedrooms.”

Konohamaru interjected tentatively. “Um, Naruto-niichan, what exactly are you talking about⏤?”

Naruto however, couldn’t listen to him, blue eyes still trained towards Sasuke. “I don’t get it, we haven’t seen anyone else so far ever since we decided to live together, I thought⏤”

Sasuke sighed. “They think we’re just taking our time to find a girl to settle down.”

Naruto nodded numbly, scratching his head. “Oh. Is that why Momiji-san wanted to cook me some obento?”

Sasuke grunted, his glare darkening. “And you almost fell for it, hook line and sinker.”

Naruto gazed back, studying the Uchiha’s activated Sharingan. Everyone was staring with growing confusion until Naruto snorted. “Are you jealous Sasuke-chan?” He laughed.

“No, absolutely not.” Sasuke promptly defended himself, raising his chin. “I’m staking my claim, that is all, since someone else is not making any effort over this relationship.”

“Awwww⏤you’re really jealous!” Naruto grinned.

“I’m not jealous, usuratonkachi, I just feel like you should have made everything clear to everyone so I can avoid all those troublesome harpies and⏤” When Sasuke saw the determined blue eyes, he tensed but all of a sudden, Naruto grabbed him and hoisted over his shoulder. "Naruto, what the hell are you doing, I swear I'm going to fry your sorry ass if you⏤Naruto⏤!" The door slammed shut.

Then, silence. All ninjas on the vicinity didn’t know whether they should intervene whatever skirmish because Naruto was going to be the Hokage, but still, since he’s the future Hokage, he didn’t need anyone to defend him, right?

Their thought process was interrupted when he heard a moan. But not any moan, it was specifically Sasuke’s moan. Every face was colored red. As the moans and groans were increasing in speed and volume, the shade of their blushes were darkening, and everyone froze on the spot.

A constant thumping noise joined in, eliminating whatever doubt they might had out of the window, in concern with the activity they were doing in the Hokage’s office. The banging grew faster and louder, that at this point everyone in the building could hear it out.

A guttural scream ripped from Naruto’s voice, that made all women fan to themselves and all men shuffle uncomfortably. Another pregnant silence reigned in the building, until Naruto opened the door beaming ear to ear, holding Sasuke’s hand while the latter was scowling, limping his steps.

“So!” Naruto proclaimed cheerfully. “As you can see, Sasuke and I are unavailable for any possible dates at the present and future moment. We’re pretty busy screwing each other, after all.”

“I am screwing you next time, usuratonkachi.” Sasuke grumbled darkly.

Naruto chortled, unaffected by his threat. “He’s so sweet right. I can’t ask for any better boyfriend.”

Sasuke kicked his legs. Naruto retaliated by slapping hard his back. As their skirmish was growing more violent, everyone scurried away from the couple.

Those two are insane.

(Kakashi later appeared in Konoha’s headquarters, ready to collect his money from the bet. It’s more than enough to secure a very nice retirement. The news about Naruto and Sasuke’s relationship reached to Tsunade’s ears but she was wholly unimpressed. She did punch her protegée to seven foot below ground for soiling her office though.)

#NaruSasu #SasuNaru #snstext #sn fic #drabble #snsourced #nssourced #a lil bit of lemon

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darks-ink · 4 years

Text

Absurdism Chapter 11

Danny antagonizes Vlad, Valerie shows everyone why she is Amity’s best ghost hunter, and then promptly as A Regret.

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

“Have you seen?” Jazz asked the moment she joined Phantom in their clearing.

“What, the bounty?” He shrugged, far too casual for her comfort. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? It’s a million dollar bounty! The world’s best known ghost hunters are all coming to Amity, just to hunt you down! How can you not worry about that?!”

Phantom blew out a breath. “Chill, Jazz. They’re the world’s best known ghost hunters, not the best. They’re a bunch of phonies who couldn’t catch a ghost if it waved at them.”

“But—” Nerves curdled in her stomach. Why was he so dismissive?

“It’s nothing,” Phantom said, more comfortingly, like he’d finally caught onto her concern. “Really, Jazz, it’s fine. I got away from all of them when I was your age, and I could do it again now. Not that I would have to, because the bounty isn’t real.”

She blinked at him. “It’s not?”

“Nah. Or, well, in my universe it wasn’t, so I bet it’s not in this one either. Vlad set it up to lure me—you—us away from the Fenton Portal so he can steal it. And I guess I make a better target than you.” He shrugged.

“He’s probably still trying to get you out of the way,” Jazz pointed out, crossing her arms. “Since you ‘stole’ his mentorship position, and all that.”

Phantom made a face. “Ugh, yeah, probably. Really, though, I’ll be fine.”

Jazz shuffled her feet uncertainly, watching her glow flicker slightly. A reflection of her emotions, she now knew. “Are you sure? I mean, it just takes one slip-up…”

“I’m sure, Jazz.” He smiled at her. “I mean, really, the only reason why I got caught in my own universe was because I felt bad for Dad and let him catch me. And you obviously haven’t hurt his feelings like I did, so…”

She snorted, startled. “Oh my god, you let him catch you? How did you even survive your first year as a half-ghost?”

“Well, some might argue I didn’t.” Phantom winked, his grin growing more wide. “But for real, he found out that the bounty was a trap, and the ghost who put it out was going to target our family. Or, well. Jack’s family. I offered to free him from the trap if he freed me from the Fenton Weasel, and that’s pretty much how it went.” He shrugged at the end of it, like it wasn’t a big deal that their ghost-hating father caught and then released a ghost of their caliber.

“How can you act like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, Dad caught you and then let you go?”

“His family comes before ghosts,” Phantom pointed out, humor leaching out of his voice. “Always.”

The mood was clearly broken. Silence fell, strained and uncomfortable.

Jazz cleared her throat uncertainly. “Right, so, uh. What are we working on today?”

---

Now, Danny usually doesn’t go out looking for fights—not counting his patrols—but he figured he would make an exception this one time. Vlad was still in Amity somewhere, lurking.

Besides, he fought the elder half-ghost in his own universe. If he didn’t come to Vlad, the man would surely seek him out. Better to catch him off-guard and engage on his own terms, right?

Finding the older ghost was easy enough. Even though half-ghosts were harder to detect—thanks, ghost sense—Vlad wasn’t alone; he’d brought the three vulture ghosts along. And those? Those were easy to track down, as long as you were looking for them.

Danny glanced downwards, quickly making sure that they were high enough up that no one could overhear. Assured of this, he flew up to Vlad’s level, even though the other half-ghost hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Hey, Plasmius!” he yelled, drawing even with the four ghosts. “What the fuck are you doing in Amity?”

Vlad whirled around, his red eyes briefly blown wide open—startled. Danny had actually startled him.

The expression was quickly wiped away in favor for Vlad’s usual smooth blankness, of course, but Danny was counting it as a win anyway.

“Phantom, I presume?” Vlad hummed, as the vultures spread out behind him. An attempt at intimidation, or were they getting out of the way for a possible fight?

“Oh please, like you don’t know exactly who I am.” He rolled his eyes at Vlad. “Seriously, man, you’re not welcome here. Haven’t you caused enough trouble yet?”

“Me?” Vlad pressed a dainty hand against his chest, eyes wide and blinking innocently. “Why, Phantom, what are you accusing me off? I haven’t done a thing.”

Danny shot Vlad the flattest, most disbelieving look he could manage. “Uh huh. Sure, old man. Nothing about this bounty is sketchy at all, and it certainly has nothing to do with you. Now, for the last time. Leave this town, or I’ll make you.”

The vultures behind Vlad squawked, a dead giveaway that it was Vlad’s fault. Not that Danny had any doubt about that, but it was always nice to have proof.

He grinned at Vlad, knowing the other half-ghost hated that cocky smirk. “So, now that we’ve established that… Leave, Vlad. I’m not above fighting you.”

“What, all on your own?” Vlad quirked an eyebrow at Danny. “I didn’t know you fought without your dear… sister.” The last word, he said carefully, measured.

Danny snorted. “I’ve fought more without her than with her. But don’t you worry, I’ve got more than enough power to deal with you.”

“Big words for a ghost who hasn’t even met me before,” Vlad scoffed, flaring out his cape in a (weak) attempt at intimidation. His fists flared up with pink ectoplasm. “But if it is a fight you want so dearly, I suppose I give you that much.”

“I would prefer if you just left,” Danny bit back, firing off two quick but low-powered ecto-blasts towards Vlad, “but I’ll settle for kicking your ass.”

Vlad summoned a minimal shield, small and glass-like, reflecting the blasts. “Oh please. Bold words for a little ghost that can barely form an ecto-blast. It’s a miracle that Specter would even consider you a mentor, when you have so little to offer her.”

“You’re just jealous that she didn’t want you,” Danny countered, smirking at Vlad. His core thrummed eagerly, flooding him with energy. It had been far too long since he’d been in a serious ghost fight. “But don’t be jealous, Vladdie, because she wouldn’t have accepted your offer even if I hadn’t been around!”

He underlined the statement with another ecto-blast, bigger and more powerful than the previous two. Vlad swore, ducking underneath it—barely.

Vlad shot back a blast of pink ectoplasm in retaliation. “Don’t call me that!”

The blow petered out against a hastily formed shield, and Danny blinked innocently. “Call you what, Vladdie? Don’t you like it when people use your name?”

Vlad snarled, the ectoplasm whirling together into pink flames. “Who do you think you are, you little pest!”

Danny opened his mouth to snark back, but Vlad lunged at him and he discarded the attempt in favor of protecting himself. He dodged the first swipe, used a shield to block the second, and then blasted Vlad in the side to push him away.

“Why do you even care about Specter?” Vlad asked, once he’d recovered from the unexpected counterattack. “You say she’s your sister, but you can’t be. It must be something else.”

Oh, Vlad. For an expert of all things half-ghost, he could be incredibly oblivious. “Why can’t I be, hm? Is there some sort of limit on half-ghosts, or do you just feel threatened by the possibility that someone could’ve managed without your help and expertise?”

He could see Vlad’s brain grind to a halt at that. The man froze in mid-air, the ectoplasmic flames around his fist dying off.

“You… You can’t be,” Vlad mumbled. His voice was quiet, like he was just thinking out loud. Danny would feel bad about listening in but, hey, Vlad has done far worse. “It makes sense, but— surely I would’ve noticed? He acts like he knows me, and he’s close to Jasmine, but— no. Surely not?”

“You’re rambling, man,” Danny interrupted, leaning his chin on his hand and rattling the fingers against his cheek. “You wanna leave to have your crisis somewhere else, or are we still gonna fight?”

Vlad whirled around to him, his aura flaring brighter. “Would you shut your mouth, Daniel?!”

Immediately, Vlad snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. His cheeks colored—an inhuman teal—and Danny realized that Vlad hadn’t even meant to say his actual name.

“You know, I usually ask people to call me Phantom or Danny, but I’ll give you a pass for this once.” Danny lounged backwards, his spine clicking as he stretched. “Seriously, though. Are you gonna leave, or what?”

A pink ecto-blast whizzed by him, and Danny raised an eyebrow. “Well, alright then. If that’s how you want to play this.”

The next blast, he intercepted with a shield. It lasted through several more shots from Vlad, before Danny suddenly dropped it, following it with an ecto-blast of his own. It caught Vlad right in the arm, breaking up the steady rhythm of firing.

In the newly made gap, Danny darted closer, angling low and bypassing Vlad entirely. Electricity crackled over his arms, and he discharged it right against Vlad’s unprotected back.

The older half-ghost was blown forward, tumbling heels over head, but he managed to straighten himself quickly. He snarled, baring his fangs, flames licking over his arms.

Danny rolled his eyes, looking as unimpressed as he felt. “You’re not that scary, man.”

He waited until Vlad opened his mouth to snark back. When he did, Danny launched a pointed icicle, swiftly followed by several more.

Vlad swore, throwing his ectoplasmic fire in front of him. Once the flames had faded, Danny could see that Vlad had gotten soaked, but he seemed unharmed.

“You’ve been underplaying your skill,” the other half-ghost commented, his voice strained. “You didn’t need Specter’s help for any of those fights of yours, did you? But why else would he train her…"

“Yo, fruitloop, I’m right here!” Danny shot another ecto-blast, but it was halfhearted, and Vlad easily shielded it. “And I think you know the answer to that last question already, don’t you?”

“It can’t be!” Vlad snapped back, aura flickering wildly. “You’re obviously experienced, and I can’t have missed— missed another for so long!”

Danny scoffed dismissively. “Clearly you can. Seriously, man, it’s been years. You’ve missed your shot by miles, and Jazz will never take you, because she knows she’ll always have her actual family. Give up, Vlad. Or learn to do better, and maybe I’ll let you help.”

Vlad snarled, vicious and animalistic. “I don’t need your pity, boy, nor your advice! I’ll get what I want sooner or later, and you’d be wise to join me before you pick the losing side.”

“I’m already with the winning side, Vlad.” Danny crossed his arms, staring Vlad down impassively. “You’re free to join us if you clean up your game, you know? But nobody wants this, Vlad. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can find happiness yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vlad sneered, eyes narrowed into bright red slits. “You’re, what, sixteen? You have barely an ounce of the life experience I have. But, nevertheless, I am done here.”

Vlad caught the edge of his cape, bowing deeply. “Goodbye, Daniel. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

And, with that, he swept the cape over himself, disappearing in a swirl of pink smoke.

Danny cast out his ghost sense, confirming that Vlad had actually left. Him, and those vultures too. Uh, whoops. He’d gotten so caught up with Vlad that he forgot about the minions.

Well, they couldn’t have gotten that far. He would just have to keep an eye out during patrol.

Actually… maybe he could take Jazz out with him. That would assure her that the bounty wasn’t dangerous to him, right?

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

---

“Wanna join me on patrol?” Phantom asked, completely out of the blue. Jazz jerked her head towards him, frowned.

“Why?”

He shrugged vaguely. “You’re worried about the ghost hunters, yeah? If you come along on patrol, you can see first-hand that they’re no danger to me. Besides, they won’t go after you—they’re only interested in the bounty.”

“Well…” She made a face. He was right, she supposed, but still… “Are they really only going to chase you, though? That seems…”

“Sketchy? Kinda shitty? Just overall a really awful thing to do? Yeah.” He shrugged, lounging in mid-air. “There’s a reason why they held off on coming here until now. They don’t care about the actual ghost hunting, they care about the money.”

“That… sucks.”

Phantom shrugged again. “It also means that they have very little experience dealing with actual ghosts, so. Not very threatening. Want to join me for patrol?”

“I guess. Are you that worried about ghosts?” She frowned at him. “I mean, won’t the ghost hunter’s presence scare off other ghosts?”

“It’s possible,” Phantom admitted, easily. “But Vlad tends to drag his vulture minions along with him, and he’s not above having those guys cause trouble just to lure us out. So I’m gonna go on patrol and find them, make sure they can’t cause a ruckus later.”

“Isn’t that exactly what he wants, though?” She sighed. “But, yeah, sure, I’ll join you on patrol. Give me a second to finish this bit of homework, and I’ll meet you outside.”

Phantom grinned, wide and bright, and saluted her. Then he was gone.

She rolled her eyes—he was definitely running head-first into a trap—but did as she’d said. Her homework was almost done anyway, and she had plenty of time for the rest later. For now, she had to make sure that Phantom wasn’t doing anything stupid.

And, yeah, in some way he was her older brother. Maybe she was a bit too worried about Phantom. He was, after all, both older and more experienced as a half-ghost. He was way stronger than she was, could beat her easily if they fought.

But he didn’t always make good decisions. And that? That wasn’t a Phantom thing. That was a Danny thing.

Besides, they both knew that Phantom wasn’t happy to be here. No matter how hard he tried to be cheery, to help to the best of his abilities… He missed his home. He wanted dearly to go home. It was clear, so clear.

So, Jazz was glad that he was staying around anyway. That he was helping her with all this, instead of looking for a way home. Sure, he said that there was no point in looking for portals back, but there must be other ways. And even if he didn’t know about them just yet, he could’ve done tons of research in the time he’d been here.

But, no. Instead he’d stuck around in Amity, helping her. Training her, mentoring her, teaching her.

With her homework swiftly finished, Jazz pushed herself away from her desk, out of her chair. She bit her lip, hesitating for just a second… Leaving with Phantom to patrol would be sneaking out, wouldn’t it? But as long as she returned before it was too late her parents wouldn’t miss her, and Danny definitely wouldn’t.

She easily shifted to her ghost form, turning invisible and intangible so she could sneak out unnoticed. From her room it was just a short flight to the rooftop where Phantom was waiting, and she dropped her invisibility almost immediately.

“All done?” Phantom asked, pushing himself to his feet. With a quick flash of light he returned to his usual ghost form—he must’ve shifted back to avoid ghost detectors.

“Yeah. Lead the way, Phantom.”

He nodded, pushing himself off of the rooftop. Jazz followed him, taking a moment to remember the first they’d met. When she could barely fly up to meet Phantom’s height, never mind follow his steady flight.

She still couldn’t match his grace in the air, but, well. Danny had always been aiming for space. It made sense that he was better at flight, at disregarding gravity, than she was.

They found the vulture ghosts faster than the ghost hunters found Phantom, which either said worrying things about the hunters, or great things about them.

Unfortunately they weren’t that much faster, and the cacophony from the human hunters distracted her and Phantom long enough for Vlad’s minions to get away from them.

“Just follow my lead,” Phantom told her, a grin on his face, before he turned a full 180 degrees and flew back over the ghost hunters chasing them—him—them. She scowled, but did as he asked.

The hunters, in four clearly-uncoordinated groups, got tangled up in each other when they tried to give chase. Only a single shot was fired in their direction, and it went so wide that Jazz was almost embarrassed for the hunter who had fired it.

With their tail thus thrown off, the two of them managed to track down one of the vultures.

“Must’ve split up,” Phantom mumbled under his breath. They were hidden from the ghost around the corner of a building, ready to chase it down. “I’ll come from the front and freeze it, you catch it in the Thermos.”

“Gotcha.” She nodded, pressing her feet against the wall so she could push herself off.

Phantom nodded back, and off they went. He shot straight at the vulture, legs immediately melting into his spectral tail, hands glowing blue. He didn’t even fire the ice beam from the distance, like she knew he could, but held off until he was practically touching the vulture before releasing the shot.

It was effective, though, she had to give him that. The ghost was frozen solid, and the Thermos sucked it up easily.

“One down, two to go,” Phantom said, rejoining her. “Let’s keep up the pace, before those suckers catch up again.”

They returned to their sweeping loops over Amity, both turning invisible when they passed the ghost hunters again. Jazz thought they had ghost detectors, but they either didn’t have them, or didn’t use them, because the hunters didn’t even notice them. Suckers.

The two of them used a similar tactic on the second vulture, once they had found him. This time, though, Phantom scared the vulture by flying at him from the front, while she caught it off-guard—and in the Thermos.

“Just one more.” She grinned at Phantom. “Are you sure you didn’t ask me along just to make this go faster?”

He laughed, holding up his hands. “Guilty as charged. But, really, do you still think those guys are a threat to me after this?”

“I guess you’re right,” she allowed. “Come on, let’s go catch that last vulture.”

Just then, both their ghost senses went off.

“Well, I guess that he’s making it easy,” Phantom said, twisting his head to look upwards. “Oh, yeah, there he is.”

Jazz followed his pointing finger, and indeed, there the third vulture ghost was. Way up high, and actively flying around.

“What are we waiting for?” She smirked at Phantom, Thermos already in her hand. “Let’s get him.”

He grinned at the challenge, and before she could move, he launched himself upwards. Jazz laughed, quickly flying after him, even if she couldn’t match his speed.

The vulture squawked when Phantom hit him, apparently forgoing ghostly tactics to just body-slam the vulture at top speed. Jazz worried for a moment about how she was supposed to catch him in a Thermos, but Phantom was already turning around, arms still wrapped around the ghost.

They leveled out with her, stopping abruptly, and Phantom released the ghost. Apparently the maneuver had disoriented the vulture, because he didn’t even try to fly away.

Jazz uncapped the Thermos, held it up, and captured the ghost in its vortex. Satisfied with a job well done, she capped the Thermos again, clicking it back on her belt.

“And that was the last of them,” she said, a satisfied hum to her core.

Phantom dusted his hands, grinning at her. “Yeah. Thanks for the help, it really made things easier for me.”

“Not that you needed the help,” she countered with a shake of her head. “Seriously, those ghost hunters are just sad. I know that people don’t like it when we protect the town, but we have to be better than that, right?”

“The Fentons aren’t that bad either,” Phantom pointed out with a shrug. “And there’s always Val.”

“There sure is,” a familiar voice answered, and Jazz’ eyes snapped upwards. Red, and a lot of it. The whine of some sort of technology, and a blinding flash of light.

Jazz clenched her eyes shut, slowly opening them when the light faded again.

Valerie stood on her hoverboard, a knock-off Thermos in her black-gloved hands. It was nigh impossible to read her expression thanks to her mask, but Jazz thought she was frowning down at the device.

Wait.

Where was Phantom?

She looked around, but there was no trace of him. It was like he… disappeared.

Oh.

“Did you just catch my brother?” she bit at Valerie, twisting back to look at her. “I thought you were alright with us!”

Valerie scoffed, shoving her Thermos in a holster on her thigh. “There were more important targets. It’s a thing called prioritizing.”

“What, and we suddenly pushed to the top of your priorities?” Jazz asked, but cold realization seeped in. “Oh, no, of course. It was the bounty, wasn’t it?”

“Oh please.” Valerie huffed, her tone of voice making it sound like she rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a ghost to understand what that money means to me, to my family.”

“There is no money!” Jazz snapped back, feeling her glow flare out, ectoplasm sparking around her fists. “It’s a trap, Huntress! Just let Phantom go. Don’t do this.”

“Or what?” Valerie bit back. “You’ll attack me? Not good for your status as protector, is it?”

“I’m serious! It’s a trap, alright, and you won’t get the money.” Jazz darted around to block Valerie’s path. “The bounty isn’t real, some ghost put it out because he wants Phantom out of the way, I swear!”

Valerie scoffed, pushing Jazz out of her way. “Yeah, I don’t believe you. Leave, Specter, or I’ll shoot you.”

“Fine.” Jazz moved aside, crossing her arms. “Go, then, prove me right. But don’t blame me if this comes back to bite you in the ass, Huntress.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Valerie murmured, shaking her head. Her hoverboard roared to life, and away Valerie went—with Phantom captured in a Thermos.

“Ugh,” Jazz sighed, immediately dropping her stern posture. “I can’t believe— Of course she would be out here too, hunting for the bounty.”

She knew she should go out after them, should free Phantom, but… there wasn’t all that much she could do. Valerie would probably release Phantom sooner or later herself, once she discovered that it really was a trap. And Phantom wouldn’t want her to follow, either. Would want her to keep her house, and the ghost Portal, safe.

So she reluctantly turned around, flying back home.

No ghost hunters bothered her.

---

Danny had some experience with getting captured with ghost hunting devices, but the Thermos always remained one of his least favorites. The Weasel, at least, allowed him to overhear the outside, to still feel like he existed. The Thermos was… was nothing. From the moment he went in to the moment he was released again, it was like no time had passed.

It wasn’t… uncomfortable, or something. It just… didn’t exist. As long as he was in the Thermos, he was completely and utterly unaware. It was like no time passed at all; he was just suddenly elsewhere, and also it was three hours later.

He tumbled back into awareness—literally—staring right into Valerie’s mask. It was creased heavily around her brows, a clear sign of her frowning at him. And glaring, probably, knowing Valerie.

They were inside a cage of sorts, the bars made out of pink ectoplasm. Ah, yes. Danny remembered this part.

“I hate your sister,” Valerie told him, leaning right into his face. “I want you to know that.”

“Duly noted.” He rolled his shoulder, grimacing at the sound of it crackling. “She warned you about the trap, huh?”

Valerie hissed, low, and Danny raised his hands. “Chill, it’s fine. Specter can be a bit of a know-it-all sometimes. She’s clever, but she’s not great at conveying that knowledge.”

“I don’t care,” Valerie growled, then took an audible breath. When she continued, her voice was calmer. “Look, I just… I know you and Specter aren’t actively causing trouble in the city, so you’re not, like, high on my shitlist or anything. But that bounty went out and… it seemed too good to be true, but I just… wanted it to be real.” She shrugged. “My family and I… we really could’ve used that money.”

“It’s fine, Red. I get it.” Danny caught himself halfway through lifting a comforting hand, freezing in place. Valerie probably wouldn’t be receptive to that sort of thing, not from him. “I know everyone thinks that ghosts don’t remember anything from their lives, but… I know I do. And I… I remember what being poor can do to someone. How much it sucks, and what kind of weird shit people might pull just for some money.”

Valerie cocked her head slightly, her mask crunching together slightly. “Like what?”

“What, is this a cross-examination now?” He rolled his eyes, huffed for dramatic effect. “I might have sold stuff from my parents’ shed to make some money, hoping that they had hoarded enough stuff that they wouldn’t notice.”

“That’s nowhere near what I just did,” Valerie pointed out, crossing her arms.

“Well, no, but it’s not like I had ghost hunting equipment or potentially dangerous ghosts to chase down.” Danny shrugged, loosely. “Seriously, it’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been caught, and you, at least, had a pretty valid reason to catch me. If I had to get captured for this bounty stuff, I’m glad that it was you and not one of those other hunters.”

She made a face. Or, well. He thought she did. “Are those… seriously the best money could buy? Because, uh, yikes. I had no idea ghost hunting, as a profession, looked like that.”

“Yeah, you made a poor career choice.” He grinned at her. “But, hey, you’ve got plenty of time left to change stuff around. Or to better the name of ghost hunting. Either or, really. Up to you.”

“You sound like a motivational speaker.” Valerie scoffed. “Seriously, I thought you were bad during battles, but this? This is worse.”

“Aw, Red, I didn’t know you cared.” He pressed a hand against his chest, blinking lovingly. It was just… too easy to fall back into his easy banter with Val. He knew he shouldn’t, but, well. Banter was better than fighting, yeah? “But, for real, I get it. Specter and I, we try our best, but we’re not perfect. We can’t catch every ghost the moment they look like they’re up to anything malicious, unfortunately. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“I don’t think you are,” she said, shaking her head, but Danny recognized that tone. It was her “I’m starting to acknowledge that you’re actually kind of human-like but I refuse to accept it” tone.

And, yes, Valerie had a tone like that. It was rare, but the few times he’d heard it had been memorable enough to stick.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He reached out a hand towards the bars, but they didn’t shock him. Ah, yeah, just like last time. Not phase-proof. “You want me to apologize by phasing you out of this?”

“You can do that?” She jerked her head back towards him. “I thought— It looked like ectoplasmic energy, I figured it would zap you if you tried.”

He wrapped a hand around the bar, tugging it meaningfully. “Doesn’t look like it. Besides, isn’t that why you let me out of the Thermos again? Or did you just want to vent about my sister so badly that even I would do?”

“Oh, shut up,” she grunted. “Just let me out and we’ll ignore this ever happened.”

“Sure thing, Red. The closer you are to the bars, the shorter I’ll have to make you intangible, so…” He gestured vaguely. “I’m assuming you want that time to be as short as possible, anyway.”

She inched closer, keeping her head turning towards him the whole time. “Why do you keep calling me that, anyway?”

“What, Red?” He shrugged. “Specter and I needed a name to refer to you, and, well. You’re a ghost hunter, dressed almost entirely in red. So, the Red Huntress.”

Valerie stopped next to the bars—and him—and stared him down. “I would comment on your naming skills, but I feel like that’s a lost cause, since you’re two ghosts called Specter and Phantom.”

“Believe me, I’ve heard it before.” He offered her a hand. “The worst part is honestly that we didn’t even coordinate that. We didn’t know the other had become a ghost until we ran into each other.”

“So shitty names are a family trait?” Valerie asked as she took his hand. Hers was warm even through her gloves.

Danny paused, thinking of literally every single one of his parents’ inventions. He shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.”

“I… I really don’t know how to feel about that, Phantom.”

He laughed, and used the moment of distraction to turn the both of them intangible. He stepped backwards through the bars, tugging Valerie along with him. Released both the intangibility and her as soon as they were through.

“That’s fair,” he ended up saying with another shrug. “My family was… a lot.”

“At least Specter still is,” Valerie said. Then she froze, seemingly startled by the fact that she’d just said something comforting to a ghost.

“That, she is,” he agreed with a nod. “Speaking of, I should go check in with her. Tell her you didn’t re-kill me or anything. Will you be alright from here on out?”

Valerie scoffed. “I don’t need your help. Yes, Phantom, I’ll be fine. Go worry over your sister.”

“I will. Stay safe, Red.”

He pushed off before she could answer, darting upwards too fast to hear anything she might shout afterwards. After that, however, he lowered his speed for the flight back home. Or, well. Back to FentonWorks. His dad could deal with Vlad fine on his own, and Jazz was around in this universe, too.

Still, even a casual speed brought him to FentonWorks quickly, and he landed on the same rooftop that he’d started the patrol on. He only had to wait for a few moments before Jazz appeared next to him.

Danny opened his mouth to greet her, but suddenly a body was pressed against him, chilly arms wrapping around him.

“Hey, Jazz,” he said, voice soft, as he wrapped his own arms around her. “It’s fine, I’m alright.”

“I was worried,” she admitted quietly. “I… I knew you’d be okay, but I couldn’t stop worrying.”

“I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through her hair, as strange and gravity-defying as his own. “I didn’t realize you’d be so worried, or I would’ve stopped talking to Val sooner. I promise, I’m fine.”

She huffed a breath in his neck, then pulled away a little. “You were talking to Valerie?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah. Warming her up a little to, well. Ghosts in general, I think, but mostly to us. How’d things go here?”

“They went fine. I didn’t have to do anything.” She pulled away entirely, but still didn’t look quite settled. “Dad beat up Plasmius with some of the inventions, and Mom and Danny just kind of shouted encouragements at him. I didn’t even have to do anything.”

“Good, good. That’s pretty much what happened in my universe too.” He nodded, rolling his spine and grinning at Jazz’ disgusted face. “Well, not the encouraging part, but Dad defeated Vlad on his own. In my universe, the vultures had grabbed Mom and, uh, Jazz, and trapped them in the weapon vault.”

Jazz blinked at him for a moment. “We have a weapons vault?”

“Yeah? It’s got a circular door and a keypad?” He shrugged. “It’s also not phaseproof, so it’s kind of worthless against ghosts. Well, it isn’t phaseproof now. They improved it when too many weapons disappeared but, well. Not much point to it if they kept telling me the password.”

“That’s ridiculous. How did I not know that it existed? You should show me where it is, later, just in case.”

“Sure thing.” He yawned. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Shouldn’t you head to bed soon?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah, I… Wait a minute. You talked with Valerie! Danny!” She jumped forward, suddenly, crowding him. “You need to tell me what you two talked about!”

“Woah, chill, Jazz.” He gently pushed her away again. “Now?”

“Yeah, now!” she snapped at him. “You tried to change the topic so I would forget! I need to know what you two talked about so I know how to approach her tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He shook his head. “Alright, so, it started like this…”

#danny phantom #dp fanfic #phanfic #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #fanfic #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jazz phantom au #halfa jazz au #valerie gray #dark writes #absurdism

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