#but some mornings he wakes up and he’s still that fourteen year old boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

summerlycoris · 2 months

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Late Night, On A Couch.

Part of ggyweek 2024- nightmare. @ggyweek2024

Early Saturday morning, Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory will be sneaking into the Pizzaplex.

It’s eleven-fifteen on Thursday night. Vanessa can’t sleep. And, from the noises she just heard from Gregory’s room, he can’t either.

What do you do when you can't get to sleep? Well, Vanessa watches old cartoon movies. Gregory joins in, as they try to avoid the issues scaring them.

Fic also under the cut. About 3800 words iirc.

It's been a massive change.

Over the course of one bittersweet night, Vanessa had gone from living by herself practically out of her car, to living with a talking bear head, and a fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old roommate.

And it was still a little hard to deal with, if she was being honest. Because she'd never exactly been what anyone could call a… maternal woman.

Luckily, Gregory hadn't really asked that of her. If he wanted fatherly advice- he seemed to ask Freddy for it. It wasn't that he hated her or anything. (anymore?) He was just an independent boy. They'd chat and joke around sometimes. About games or movies, or whatever was going on. They could plan together, about what to do regarding… their problem under the Pizzaplex.

It was the kind of plan that takes time. Something like that… they needed to get it right the first time. Because there wouldn't be a second chance to trap it if they failed.

But their hard work would (hopefully) be paying off soon. They had a plan that should be watertight, should work perfectly.

They'd be heading back to the Pizzaplex early Saturday morning. Around one am.

It was Thursday night. Around eleven fifteen pm.

And Vanessa was totally not on edge about it. Totally not awake after struggling to sleep not long ago. Totally not watching an old cartoon movie she remembered her Mom showing her.

…

She was watching it at a low volume, in the small living room of her new apartment. All snuggled up under a blanket she’d stolen from her bed. And leaning sideways against one of the cushions that she'd bought recently, to make the secondhand sofa feel more like theirs. It wasn't a cold night, by any means. She just wanted something around her. She had the volume nearly all the way down, and subtitles on, because it was late and the walls were thin. Because Gregory was asleep for school tomorrow. Because his room was right next to the living room.

… Because the walls were thin, she could hear the sharp gasp, the creaking of springs under him, and his quiet footsteps, before she saw him open his door and stick his head out.

“Hey kiddo. Sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked. He shook his head. Looking at him, while he looked down at the ground, she could see him shaking but trying to hide it.

She hadn’t known him for long, but she did know him. He was still… hesitant around her sometimes. The best way for her to describe what she’d noticed about him was he prefers to approach on his own terms. Which she understood- after a night of being chased by her (and her evil alter ego), it made sense to want some control back.

Besides- theyd been strangers not too long ago.

Because of this, she knew that asking him about it would probably just get an ‘I’m fine’ out of him, before he’d retreat back to his room.

So she didn't say anything, and focused her gaze back on the tv. Keeping an eye out for him with her peripheral vision.

After a bit, she could see him coming over to stand by the couch, and look at the tv. “What are you watching?” He asked.

“Just something I used to watch as a kid. Plenty of room, if you want to watch too.”

After a few seconds, she felt the couch shift a bit, and could see him up the other end. Sitting cross legged, watching intently. Like usual.

He would shiver occasionally. Which wasn’t usual. The night was too warm for that. She grabbed the longer edge of her blanket, and pushed it over, closer to him. After a few seconds, he took it, and pulled it over his lap.

The cartoon went on for a while, as they sat in silence. There was a song at the very end, about how ‘you are a princess, too.’ And then it rolled to credits. She could hear Gregory scoff at that line. And she had to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

Vanessa didn't want to get up. But she also didn't want to go to bed. It was quarter to twelve. But the credits ended, going back to the main menu. And the main menu of this release had a very short loop of music that drove her batty.

So she forced herself up from the couch, narrowly avoiding taking the blanket with her, and popped the dvd out of the player.

“Anything you'd like to request?” She asked him, looking back at him while she put the dvd away in the racks.

“I dunno, something a little less girly and saccharine?” He said, holding up his fingers to show what he meant by ‘a little’.

“Huh. I thought you liked sweet things.” She joked.

“There’s a difference between sweet and saccharine.” He said, before grinning and crossing his arms. “I guess you wouldn't understand, Princess Of Bad Taste.”

“Wow, okay. Rude much?” she jabbed back. “Keep that up, and I'll be the Princess Of Sending You Back To Bed.”

He fought back a laugh, and leant against a cushion, uncrossing his legs under the blanket. “That’s sad. You'll need a new title now. How about… Princess No Fun?”

Now she couldn't help grinning. “You're giving me a new title? Before you even have one of your own? How about, Prince Of Melting My Spatula While Cooking Last Week?”

He sat up properly. “Hey! I only left it in the pan for ten seconds! I don’t care what you say- it was not made of silicon.”

“Sure, buddy. It was totally the spatula’s fault that the omelets were ruined.”

He rolled his eyes, before pulling the blanket completely up over himself. Only his face and a little bit of hair was visible, in the strange little nest he had created for himself. “Geez, Can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Giving me grief about a spatula? After a nightmare? You’re the worst!” He grumbled.

That could've been a legit complaint, except that she knew him. If he was really angry at her, he would’ve cussed her out already and gone back to his room, slamming the door on the way through. He was just doing a bit.

She got the feeling he was messing around, to distract himself from something bigger. Or maybe she was just projecting.

Either way, she didn’t feel guilty about continuing the bit.

“Maybe I am the worst… or maybe, those are the words of some kid who can dish it, but can’t take it.”

His eyes were wide, and he didn't respond for a bit, before sticking his tongue out at her. “Yep! You really are the worst!”

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Even though it was late, and the walls were thin. She burst out laughing, and she could hear him groan and pull the blanket over his eyes, before mumbling “It’s not funny.”

Playtime was over. Maybe she was being too complacent?

She cut her laughter off. “Sorry, Gregory. I thought we were still goofing around.” she remembered what she’d originally been doing, and tried looking for a dvd that was neither ‘too girly’, or ‘too saccharine’. Which wasn't easy- most of these dvds were from when she was a little girl. And when she was little, she loved all that stuff.

While she was searching, Gregory spoke up. “We were, it's just- tonight hasn't been very good. And Freddy needs all the charge he can get. So I can't talk to him right now…” She knew why- they'd only just managed to build up a body for him, so he could help them with… their problem under the pizzaplex. “... Sorry for kinda ruining the mood. What movie are you thinking?”

“Hey, don't apologize. It’s all good. I’m a little tense too, to be honest.” She grabbed one. Possibly saccharine. Probably less girly. An old Rugrats Movie that her Mom had watched when she was little. And then shown to Vanessa when she was little. Maybe when she was three? She turned back to Gregory with it- seeing he now had his face out of the blanket again.

She showed it to him. “I've never seen that one before. What's it like?” He asked.

“It’s a pretty good movie. I can't remember much about it, but don’t worry- it shouldn't be too girly or anything.”

He tilted his head, but didn’t object.

So she put the dvd in. Letting it load, while she made her way back to the couch. She sat down and absentmindedly reached for where she’d left her side of the blanket… which was no longer there. Because of Gregory’s nest. He chuckled as she turned to him with her hands on her hips. “You gonna share my blanket with me at all?”

He put his arms outside his nest, and pulled the blankets closer to him. Almost possessively, with a cheeky grin on his face. “I dunno... finders keepers Nessa.”

She grabbed the nearby cushion and threw it at his head. He caught it easily.

“Sweet- an extra pillow! Thanks Ness!” he tucked it beside him, on top of the previous pillow, before laying on his side.

She rolled her eyes. “Consider it an early Christmas present- and don't expect anything else!” It was an empty threat, and she knew that Gregory knew it. Otherwise he would tell her off.

They probably would've kept chatting and making light, except the movie started. And it caught both of their attentions pretty fast.

Vanessa hadn’t remembered just how sad this one could get. She’d only partially remembered the hijinks, really.

So the scene where Chuckie didn't have a mom to dance with, really got to her. And she felt a little pathetic. For shivering. For wishing she had that blanket back. For holding herself tightly. For wishing she had her mom to talk to, right now. About everything that happened to her. About everything that could happen to her. About saturday- two days- no, one day away now-

I don’t want to die.

…

She was supposed to be an adult. So why was she feeling so childish?

She was jolted out of this trail of thought, by feeling a soft weight against her side. A warm weight, with a pulse and heartbeat she could feel against her. Gregory- now leaning against her, and trying to wrap the blanket around them both. He looked up, realizing she had started looking at him. “You looked cold. So…”

He looked so tired up close, with bags under his eyes. And honestly? A little miserable, too.

“... Is this scene getting to you too?” She asked.

He shrugged.

… He had never really talked about his parents with her before.

It was probably a touchy topic. Because if it wasn’t, he’d be living with them. Instead of with his previously possessed potential murderer.

She didn't know what to say. And she wasn't even sure what to do.

All she knew was that she could feel him shivering, too.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in a little closer.

And for a second, she thought she had messed up- because he tensed up beside her.

Before she could move or apologize, he sighed and relaxed, closing his eyes.

“I like Freddys hugs more, but they’re not warm.” He whispered.

They were silent for a while.

What was there to say?

Gregory opened his eyes back up after a bit, and watched the movie again. So she did too. The clock ticked onward, until it was nearly twelve-thirty.

She could feel him shift slightly against her, and looked down at him. “I… I had a bad dream.” He whispered. Eyes wide, looking down at his lap. “It should've been a nice dream- my friends were all there. It was my birthday. I turned fifteen. Mom brought out a cake, and everyone cheered. Dad hugged me tight, then brought out presents-” he choked up, and couldn't finish the sentence.

…

They’d had his fifteenth birthday not too long ago. Her and Freddy had thrown it. There were no other guests. She and Gregory had worked together to make a (somewhat dodgy looking) Freddy face cake. And Freddy had suggested some presents to buy, while Gregory was out at school one day. He’d looked happy enough, at his little party. Had a smile on his face. But it hadn’t reached his eyes. She’d theorized on why, but now she knew it.

And he still couldn't say what he wanted to say.

“Hey, it's okay if you can't talk about it right now. We can try again in the morni-”

“No.” He shook his head, for emphasis. “I just. I just need to get the words off my tongue.” So she waited. And paused the movie- no one was watching it anymore. She didn't want to distract him.

It looked like he was trying not to cry. “Maybe you don't get them, but I've had these dreams before. Dreams where people I've… lost, are okay again. And everything’s great again! And they’re weird dreams- because I know they’re dreams. But it’s like I… choose to forget that? And that's when they become nightmares- Because when I wake up, for a moment I still think it’s real.” His voice cracked at the last bit. And she could see his eyes get shiny, with tears, before he turned to her, and buried his face into her shoulder.

She thought she knew him.

But the Gregory she knew wouldn’t cling to her and cry quietly against her shoulder. Because he was too independent for that.

Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought.

She still had one arm wrapped around his shoulders. He looked like he needed a hug. A real one- not just a sideways one. So she shifted, until she was twisted enough to face him. And she held him tight, while they sat on the couch. She could feel the shoulder of her sleepshirt getting a little damp. She ran her fingers through his hair- her mom had done that for her, years ago. And she tried to sooth him. Not very well- she wasn't nearly as good at this as Freddy was.

“I think I get what you mean. I’ve had some dreams like that, too.” Dreams where she was doing something mundane with her mom and dad, who still loved each other… even household chores felt special in those dreams. “It's okay, it’s okay…”

He shook his head. “No, it’s really not.”

Pulling away from her, he wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeves. And looked up at her. With eyes that were trying to look determined.

He couldn't hide the fear in them.

“No matter what- no matter what- it won’t get me again? Right? Because I’m fast, and older, and I know it’s tricks now.”

… She got what he was really trying to ask.

You won’t let it get me again? Right? I won’t be it’s puppet again? Right? You won’t let me be him again? Right?!

…

She made a promise she desperately hoped she could keep.

“I promise it won’t get you again. Or me. We’re gonna trap it for good, so it can’t hurt anyone else. Just like we planned.”

She squeezed him tightly, and he practically melted into her hug. Sighing, and just thinking for a while.

She could slowly feel his heartbeat slow down, back to its normal pace. Could hear his breathing get a little easier. Could feel the wet patch on her shoulder slowly dry.

When she next checked the clock, it was nearly one am.

And when she turned back to him, he was looking up at her. She could practically see the gears turning in his brain.

As he loosened himself from the hug slightly. Staring up with big puppy dog eyes. “So, I did that thing Freddy tells me to do...”

Sometimes, she can hear Freddy telling Gregory that he needs to ‘Open up to people.’ and ‘Not bottle up your feelings, Superstar.’ Because the walls were thin, and Freddy couldn't be quiet if you paid him.

“... So you won’t send me to school tomorrow, right?”

Back to the usual Gregory, for the most part. Two can play at that game.

She hemmed and hummed over it, exaggerating it for the bit. “Well… I could keep you home… but then you might miss math! And english! And P.E! The wonderful class of physical education- isn’t it baseball season right now?” She sighed, and shook her head, while he groaned. “What kind of a guardian would I be if I let you miss out on such a fun day at school?”

He thought for a moment, a cheeky grin on his face. His eyes were still a bit red, but he was starting to feel a bit better, clearly. (She hoped.) “You’d be the best kind of guardian?”

“Really?” He nodded. “Because a little birdie told me earlier… that I was the worst!”

She quickly ruffled his hair, somehow making it look neater than it usually looked. In response he squeaked out a “Nessa!”, and tried to shake it back out.

“And another little birdie also told me… that I was Princess No Fun!” she jabbed him in the ribs with her fingers, making him squeal with laughter.

“Wha- what If I told you those birdies were liars?” he wheezed out after the giggle fit, clutching his ribs.

She pretended to be deep in thought about it. “Hmmm, well… if the little birdies were lying… I might consider it. But if they were lying… then what’s the truth?”

“The truth is… you’re the Princess Of Warm Hugs.” He whispered, before flushing red with embarrassment and stammering out- “Wait, that’s saccharine! I take it back! Umm- you’re the Princess Of Being A Pain!”

“Aww- see! I knew you could be sweet if you tried!” She joked. Holding him close again, as he tried to squirm away. “No take-backsies- I’m the Princess Of Warm Hugs now.”

“No you’re not-” He whined. And they probably would’ve continued- if an angry neighbor didn't slam something heavy against the nearby wall.

“Would you two shut up?! Some of us have work in the morning!” Their voice came through, loud and clear. Because it was late, and the walls were thin.

“Sorry! We will!” she said, fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. While Gregory flipped off the wall.

“... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that.” She whispered at him.

He just grinned. And whispered his original question- “So, can I have the day off tomorrow? Please?”

She kept him in suspense for a few seconds, before responding- “Okay. But only because you used the magic word.”

In response, he flipped her off. She flicked his ear. “Andddd, that’s your cue to go to bed, you little ratbag.” Because despite the cheeky grin, he had huge bags under his eyes. And because she felt exhausted- she wasn't going to be able to stay up much longer- which meant he needed to be in bed before she started turning off the lights.

She pushed him away from her, and towards his room, getting up from the couch to follow him. The blanket fell down to the floor, and they both barely avoided tripping on it. “Shoo! Scram! Get going! Before I change my mind about school!”

And he did shoo, scram, and get going. At least until he got to his bedroom door, snickering and grinning at her. He turned completely, and saluted her- “Ma’am, yes ma’am!” He opened up the door, while she rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Princess Drill Instructor.” He whispered, before running off to bed, leaving the door open.

Like usual- well, except for the ‘drill instructor’ comment. She knew what to do now.

She stood in the doorway, and saw Gregory sitting in bed, pulling up the covers. Freddy was standing nearby. Still on charge- except now with his eyes open. He must’ve woken up, hearing Gregory go back to bed.

Freddy looked out the window through a gap in the curtain. “Hmm, Superstar. It is still very dark outside. Is everything okay?”

He turned, and looked over at Freddy. “Should be now, I think. Sorry for waking you up, Freddy.”

She could feel Freddy's eyes meet hers.

Now that she was here, it felt like she was intruding- this was usually Freddy’s job.

But she needed to know that he'd be okay overnight.

“Hey, you feeling a bit better now?” she asked Gregory.

He turned back to her and nodded, before continuing. “But if I’m not, can I come wake you up?”

“Yeah, of course. Though, it’ll probably be Fairytopia on next time. So be prepared for the most girly and saccharine thing you've ever seen.” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure to bring a bucket then.” he joked back, before laying down, facing Freddy.

”I’m going to start getting ready for bed- I'll see you in the morning, okay?” She said, turning off the light and grabbing his door.

She went to shut it, until he interrupted her- “Hey, Ness?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

She could see him glance at her before looking away, in the light still coming through the open door. “... Thanks for listening. And being there.”

With the warmth she felt in her chest, it was almost like she was still hugging him. “You too, Gregory. Goodnight.”

She shut the door and backed away, hearing him saying “‘Night.” back to her. If she hadn't, she would've been there all night. And she couldn’t. She was too exhausted.

Instead, she went back to the couch. She needed to turn off the tv and dvd player, as well as grab her blanket off the floor. She’d need that, shortly.

With her blanket back, she turned off the living room light, the room now only illuminated by the crack of light through her bedroom door.

When she got back to bed, and snuggled into her pillow, she could hear faint and unintelligible words from Freddy. Because he couldn’t be quiet if you paid him. So they were chatting together.

But she couldn't hear crying, or the creak of springs. Even though it was late, and the walls were thin. She couldn't see his face peering in and asking if she was asleep yet.

So, they were probably just chatting.

She rolled onto her side, and held herself close. She was still scared, about how they’d go with their problem under the Pizzaplex.

But, she also felt braver about it too. She had to be braver- she had someone else counting on her.

And as she heard Freddy fall silent, she knew she could be brave.

She would be keeping that promise, if it was the last thing she did.

********

Authors note- Gregory’s just chilling in the Bad Opinion Zone in this fic lol. (Princess Promenade is great fight me.)

Also, Gregory’s right about the spatula lol. Melting point is WAY too high for a silicone utensil to melt. Vanessa just didn't realize she had a placcy one. (If she had, she would’ve felt ripped off.)

Didn’t manage to keep this under 3000 words, but did keep it under 4000- brevity won! Maybe? Whoo!

#five nights at freddys #ggy fanweek 2024 #gregory fnaf #vanessa fnaf #fnaf fanfic #im not sure about this- its really goofy in places #but i hope i got across that these rwo are goofing around- because they are trying to distract themselves from their problems #while im not sire abput this- i had a lot of fun writing it #the monstrosity has a lot of angst and drama. and i need to add more goofy shit to it honestly for tonal variation i tjink #so this was a good pallette cleanser #edit- i thought i posted this but think i just saved the draft #if its double posted im sorry ill fix it #Summerly writes

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insomniacwriter17 · 5 months

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Saved from the Flames - Chapter Thirty-One

"When you’re born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it’s not.” –Richard Kadrey

Billy Hargrove is 9 years old. He tries his best to be the son his father wants him to be - quiet, respectful, and obedient. But Neil just pushes harder and harder, all in the name of raising a “strong man”. When Billy is removed from his father’s custody and placed in foster care, it takes some time for him to realize his world is no longer burning around him. New experiences, new people, new opportunities all make Billy realize there’s a whole lot more to life than respect and responsibility.

AKA: The story of how Bob Newby became a real life superhero for one little boy who needed saving.

Inspired by this post I saw from @connordax

read on ao3

Twenty days quickly became fourteen, then ten, then seven…and now, Bob was laying out Billy’s outfit for the next day. “Red shirt or blue?” Bob mused in the doorway of Billy’s closet.

“Red!” Billy replied almost immediately from where he was curled up in bed, a book on his lap. It wasn’t Hardy Boys this time, but Bridge to Terabithia.

“Red it is,” Bob agreed, pulling out the red button-up shirt and a pair of khaki pants. “I’m going to hang these on the back of the bedroom door for you so you can just get dressed in the morning. We have to leave a little bit earlier than we would for school so I’ll wake you up earlier than normal.”

Billy nodded his understanding as he scooted to the side so Bob could sit on the edge of the bed. “We can still read a chapter, right? I’m really excited to start this book,” Billy said with a small pout.

“One chapter, then we’re going to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day,” Bob replied, settling against the headboard and smiling as Billy snuggled against his side. “Are you reading or am I?”

“Um, you,” Billy decided quietly, resting his head on Bob’s shoulder. So Bob took the book from Billy’s hand and opened it to the first page, dropping his voice low as he started to read the first chapter to Billy.

Billy fell asleep somewhere after Jess saw the U-Haul at the Perkins’ farm, but Bob finished the chapter anyway. He knew they’d be reading the chapter again tomorrow night, but it’d be different then.

Billy would be adopted. Billy would no longer be a foster child, he would be Bob’s child. Billy would finally get the childhood he’d always deserved. If that meant Bob re-read the first chapter of Bridge to Terabithia every night for the rest of his life, then he’d be happy.

~~~

“You ready, Billy?” Gabby asked, looking over at the blonde boy. Squirming excitedly in the uncomfortable plastic chair, Billy offered her an energetic nod. “Good,” she smiled. “It’s almost time for us to go in,” she promised. “Just a few more minutes.” Billy nodded obediently, looking around the waiting room of the court house. Bob had gone in first, leaving Billy to wait with Gabby.

Behind the solid oak doors was the family court room. Bob stood at his podium in front of the judge, nervously tapping his papers against the wooden surface. In his peripheral vision he could see Joyce sitting to his left; her quiet show of support left him feeling just a bit calmer.

“Mr. Newby, I’m sure that Ms. Maynard has made it clear that the circumstances you are in are very unusual,” the judge started. Bob felt like his brain flatlined as the judge referred to Ms. Gabby by her “real” name, but he recovered and nodded quickly.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“It’s not often that we are hearing adoption proceedings less than a year after a child enters foster care, and we are barely about to hit the six month mark in this case. But I think we can all agree that this case is not one we see often.”

“Thankfully,” Bob replied with a quick nod.

“But it has also been made abundantly clear, Mr. Newby, that the care and attention you have provided to Billy has been stellar. From the day Ms. Maynard placed him in your home, there have been nothing but positive reports from all on his care team. Even people not officially on his care team, like teachers, have reported the many different ways that Billy has grown since being placed with you.”

Bob simply nodded since he wasn’t sure what to add to that.

“That, paired with the fact that Mr. Hargrove showed no interest in reunification, even going so far as to relinquish his parental rights, made the court decide that this was a situation where it would be appropriate to start the adoption process early. So, without further ado.” The judge sat up straighter, stacking his papers and then continuing. “Mr. Newby, could you please confirm for me that you are interested in becoming Billy’s legal guardian?”

Bob swallowed thickly. It’s go time. “I am, Your Honor.”

“And you understand that if you adopt Billy, you will be solely responsible for his physical, emotional, and educational needs until he reaches the age of eighteen.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“If you choose to move forward with this adoption, Billy will continue to receive state-funded medical insurance until he is eighteen years old. However, Billy will no longer be considered a ward of the state – he will, for all intents and purposes, be your child. Any restrictions currently in place not allowing for travel outside the state or country will be lifted; in addition, you will no longer have to comply to state licensing standards as a foster-adoptive home. You will, however, be required to provide Billy a safe, healthy environment and raise him to the best of your ability. You have been chosen as a potential adoptive parent for Billy because we believe you can give him that. My question for you, Mr. Newby, is if you believe you can offer that.”

The courtroom was silent, waiting for his answer. Waiting for him to say yes or no. “I do believe that, Your Honor.” Bob didn’t anticipate his voice to shake as much as it did, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it but hope that the judge hadn’t noticed.

But based on the sympathetic, knowing smile that the judge had on his face, Bob figured he hadn’t been that lucky. “Mr. Newby, you understand that if you agree to do this, this is a permanent decision. If you, for any reason, decide to terminate your parental rights, you will be punished to the full extent of the law.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bob told the judge, strength back in his voice. “I understand, Your Honor.”

The judge nodded. “Alright, then let’s bring Billy in and get this show on the road,” he sat up straighter and motioned to the bailiff standing at the back of the room. “Will you grab Ms. Maynard and Billy for us, please?”

Bob turned around when he heard the courtroom door open, and Billy appeared a second later with Gabby by his side, looking absolutely tiny in that doorway. The boy smiled at him, and Bob felt the smile pulling at his own lips.

Bob gestured for Billy to come to him, and Billy wasted no time. His sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor as he ran to Bob, hugging the man’s arm. “Is it time?” he asked excitedly, his hushed voice echoing through the largely empty room.

“Just about,” Bob nodded, nodding toward the judge. “Judge Collins wants to talk to you.”

Billy turned his attention to the judge, seemingly noticing him for the first time. “Hi,” he offered in a soft voice.

“Hi, Billy. My name is Judge Collins. Do you know what we’re doing here today?” The man’s voice had taken on a softer tone than it had with Bob, and he’d traded his tight, straight posture for a more relaxed one, leaning on his elbows on the bench in front of him.

“I’m getting adopted!” Billy exclaimed with a grin. He squeezed Bob’s arm tighter, looking up at him, and Bob smiled back. He elected not to say anything, afraid he’d start to cry. And that definitely wouldn’t be a good look.

“That is what we’re here to talk about, yes,” Judge Collins agreed. “Do you know what it means to get adopted, Billy?”

Billy nodded proudly. “I talked about it with Ms. Gabby and Dr. Marcus. It means that Bob will be my dad, even if he wasn’t the dad that I was born to.” He recited the words easily, still hugging Bob’s arm. “It means he’ll take care of me and I’ll live with him until I’m a grown up.”

Judge Collins smiled and nodded. “That’s right. It means that Bob will be your family now, and Neil won’t be. Has Dr. Marcus talked to you about that?”

Billy nodded, though Bob could tell some of the boy’s confidence deflated. “Yes, sir. Because Neil signed the papers with the parental rights and gave them away, he’s not my dad anymore. He doesn’t want to be my dad, so I won’t get to see him anymore.” The way Billy said it was matter-of-fact, but Bob could tell the boy was upset by it still. So without consciously thinking about it, Bob moved to pull his arm out of Billy’s grasp, so he could wrap his arm around the boy’s shoulders instead and pull him close.

“That’s right,” Judge Collins replied carefully. “Now, one of the most important parts of this is we want to know what you want, Billy. Do you like living with Bob?”

Billy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Judge Collins nodded, shuffling through the papers in front of him. “What is it that you like about living with Bob?” he asked.

Billy shifted on his feet and his hands twisted together nervously. “Um,” he started after a moment. “A lot of things.”

“Like what?” Judge Collins pressed gently.

“Um, he has a lot of board games that he likes to play with me,” Billy offered, looking up at the judge. After a reassuring nod from the man, Billy continued. “He reads with me and makes sure that I go to school and he takes care of me when I’m sick. He doesn’t make me eat food that I don’t like, and he lets me help him cook! When I’m scared of something, he tries to help me feel better.”

Billy paused before he added one last sentence. “And he lets me sleep with my door open.”

The room went silent enough that you could’ve heard a pin drop, and Billy looked up at Bob nervously. The man offered him a reassuring smile and hugged him a bit closer. “You’re doing great, kiddo,” he whispered.

Judge Collins’ face softened as he looked at the duo in front of him. “Is there anything you don’t like about living with Bob?” he asked. “Anything you’d change?”

“My bedtime,” Billy replied seriously, and there was a smattering of chuckles from the adults in the room. “Dad and I read at night and he always stops too soon and says it’s bedtime.”

Judge Collins smiled and looked down at Billy with amusement. “Well, that seems like an easy enough thing to fix. What time do you go to bed?”

“Like nine,” Billy said with a sigh. The judge nodded and contemplated something for a moment.

“Well, then I’ll put it in the paperwork that he can’t make you go to bed until 9:05 each night. How does that sound?”

Billy giggled and nodded. “That would be good,” he replied with a serious nod. Judge Collins gave the boy a thumbs up and wrote down a few things on a piece of paper, the room going quiet for a few minutes more.

“Well,” Judge Collins cleared his throat after a few minutes and looked out at the room in front of him. “Now, this is the fun part for me.” He turned his attention to Billy and Bob, smiling. “It’s been made very apparent that Mr. Newby has been taking excellent care of Billy, and I think we can all agree that Billy likes it where he is currently. So, I have just a few questions before we go any further. Robert Newby, do you agree that you are requesting full guardianship of William Hargrove?”

“I am, Your Honor,” Bob replied, and he felt a slight tug on his shirt. He looked down to Billy, who was giving Bob a confused look.

“Your real name is Robert?”

Bob couldn’t help but laugh. “Your real name is William?” he teased gently before nodding. “Let’s focus, pal,” he redirected Billy’s attention to the judge, and Billy nodded quickly, offering an embarrassed smile to the judge.

“And you, Mr. Newby, are pursuing full guardianship of William Hargrove of your own free will, and you are not being influenced by an outside party or family member to complete this adoption?”

Bob nodded. “Correct, Your Honor. My choice and mine alone.” He hugged Billy closer to his side, his heart beating so fast in his chest that he was sure it was soon going to just stop.

“So, my next question is for you, Billy. It sounds like you enjoy living with Mr. Newby. Would you like to continue living with Mr. Newby permanently?”

“Yes, sir,” Billy replied surely. “I want that a lot.” His tiny arms hugged Bob’s arm against his chest.

Judge Collins had a few more questions for Gabby and Bob, but Billy tried to wait as patiently as he could. Finally, the man straightened and put the papers down in front of him. “Well, I think we’ve strung this along long enough. Mr. Newby, Billy, would you please approach the bench?”

Bob looked down at Billy and reached for his hand, squeezing reassuringly as the two of them approached where the judge sat. “Well, this is the point of no return,” Judge Collins smiled at the two of them. “You guys ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Billy replied eagerly. “Is this the part when my dad gets the parental rights?” he asked curiously, and the judge gave Bob an amused look.

“Indeed, Billy, that is what happens next,” the judge smiled. “Now, it is my honor to grant you, Mr. Robert Newby, full and complete guardianship of William Hargrove, date of birth March 29, 1967.”

The next few moments were a blur. Bob felt like he could finally breathe. After all this time, it was finally over. Billy was no longer in foster care, no longer in danger of being moved somewhere else.

Billy began to bounce excitedly beside Bob, and it brought the man back to the present. He looked down at Billy, at his son, and Bob thought his heart was going to pound out of his chest. The moment Billy’s eyes met Bob’s, the boy jumped up to hug him, and Bob caught the boy easily, hugging him close. “We did it, buddy,” Bob whispered as he squeezed the boy tight. All Bob could hear was a ringing in his ears as he hugged Billy tight against him, and he could feel Billy’s muscles trembling as he hugged him back.

“You’re my dad now?” Billy asked, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “For real?” He didn’t pull away from Bob, but only seemed to hug him tighter as Bob nodded. Bob was looking at the judge through tear-filled eyes, who seemed to be giving the two of them a moment, waiting patiently to say something else.

Finally, Judge Collins cleared his throat and spoke. “Congratulations, you two,” he told the duo softly. Behind them, Bob could hear Joyce clapping as well and he was pretty sure Gabby was still back there, too. “Now, are we ready for some housekeeping stuff?” Judge Collins continued, and Bob used one hand to swipe at the tears on his cheeks before he nodded.

The man wasn’t ready to put Billy down yet, so he simply shifted Billy’s weight until the boy rested against Bob’s side. Billy’s arms wrapped around Bob’s neck and his head rested on the man’s shoulder after a few more moments. “So, Billy,” Judge Collins smiled at the boy. “Mr. Newby is now officially your dad, he’s got the parental rights, and the rest of this is just details. But I do have one more question for you.”

Billy lifted his head, eyes curious. “What?” he wondered.

“Nothing is truly official until I hit the desk with my gavel. But, I think it would be more exciting if you wanted to do it,” Judge Collins smiled, picking up the aforementioned item and offering the handle to Billy.

“Yes, please!” Billy grinned, already reaching for the gavel. Bob stepped forward so that Billy could grab the item, and the judge pointed to an empty spot on the desk.

Judge Collins nodded. “Right there, kiddo. Give it three good whacks.” The first tap was light, and the judge urged Billy forward. “Come on, you can hit it harder than that.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Billy needed, and the next two times Billy hit the gavel to the desk, it echoed through the room. “There you go!” Judge Collins praised. He took the instrument back and Billy grinned as he rested his head back on Bob’s shoulder.

“It’s now officially official,” Judge Collins smiled. “Now, we have to move onto all the boring grown-up stuff. You going to stay up here with us, Billy?”

“Can I?” Billy asked, hugging Bob’s neck even tighter. Judge Collins nodded and then launched into the next steps with Bob.

Billy was listening to conversations about a new birth certificate, a new social security card, and something about medical insurance and college tuition, but all of that was stuff for Bob to know.

Billy had nothing to worry about now. He and Bob were officially a family. Bob was his dad, his real dad now, and everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay. With that knowledge, Billy closed his eyes and fell asleep against Bob’s shoulder. Against his dad’s shoulder. Safe, warm, and wanted.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #ao3 #insomniacwriter17 #fandom #bob newby #billy hargrove deserved better #bob newby deserved better #adoption #foster care au #cw: child abuse #sftf #saved from the flames

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silvfyre-writings · 10 months

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Learning About Ranpo (BSD Fanfic)

Hello, welcome back to another Fukudad fic! This one is connected to "What Don't I Know" but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! And in case you were wondering, yes I have read 108 and no, I am not okay. But anyways!

This fic has dark themes and I wasn't sure what exactly to tag, but I will have a content warning, so please be mindful. There is nothing graphically described, but I will still list what is mentioned.

With that being said, I hope you enjoy, and that if you enjoyed, you'll leave a like or even reblog (or both!) :D

Happy reading!

CW: Disordered eating, references to child prostitution ((at the very end) if I miss something you feel needs a warning, please, let me know!)

It had only been three days, and Fukuzawa was more tired than he’d ever been before in his life. Before that night at the theatre, he’d been tired, moving from job to job, protecting the lives of others; and even before that, he’d been tired, ending the lives of those that he had been asked to kill. Of course, there’d been other times when he’d been tired—what adult hadn’t been tired at least once in their life?—but for some reason those two were the only thing that came to mind when looking for a comparison with his current state. Although it seemed right, to compare his current exhaustion to the kind that his jobs usually gave him.

Because looking after a fourteen year old boy was nothing if not difficult, especially when one had never interacted with children in such a way before now.

Not that Edogawa Ranpo was a normal child, not in the slightest.

When he’d first met the teenager only a few days ago, Ranpo had been loud and confident, and even a little arrogant at times, making demands regardless of how out there they were; for example, when Ranpo had demanded to be carried by Fukuzawa after he’d fed the boy at the restaurant, who had been nothing more than a complete stranger at the time. Yes, he’d given in in the end, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, that Fukuzawa was at a loss in how to proceed with taking care of this child.

Fukuzawa watched Ranpo carefully from his spot in the kitchen, being mindful as to not burn the food he was cooking. The teenager was sat on the couch, staring at nothing in particular as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt like he had been since Fukuzawa had come into the kitchen. He had to wonder, just what it was exactly that Ranpo was thinking so hard about to produce such a look on his face, and whether or not it was a good or bad expression. Fukuzawa tried not to linger on it, and turned back to the food on the stove, stirring the pot a few times before the noodles he was boiling could stick together or overflow.

It'd been three days since Ranpo had come to live with Fukuzawa, and two days since that dreadful shopping trip that had shown Fukuzawa just how unprepared and unequipped he was to raise a child. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try his damn best of course; he’d promised Ranpo a safe place to stay, and there was no way he was going to go back on it now. It would be cruel and heartless of him to do such a thing, especially when Ranpo was so obviously attached to him for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

Yet, since that shopping trip, Ranpo had grown distant and quiet, taking up residence on the couch and only getting up to go to the bathroom, or when it was time for sleep—regrettably, still in Fukuzawa’s room since there wasn’t really anywhere else for the boy to sleep, although Fukuzawa had started to look at apartments with an extra bedroom so that Ranpo could finally have his own space. He was starting to get used to waking up in the morning with Ranpo clinging to him, but he was starting to miss his room being his room, so the sooner they found somewhere more suitable, the better.

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa called out as he pulled the noodles off the stove, now fully cooked, and set about preparing the rest of their lunch which was nothing more than a simple soba noodle dish. His reasoning behind the dish was that it was Ranpo’s first proper meal since he’d started to live with Fukuzawa; he’d noticed that Ranpo didn’t really eat outside of his snacks, and that whenever Fukuzawa offered to cook the boy a meal, he was politely rejected. He didn’t know why that was, considering that when he’d first offered food to Ranpo, back at that first murder case, the boy had agreed to it instantly without any hesitation. Fukuzawa had an idea that it was something to do with Ranpo not wanting to feel like an annoyance or a burden, so he’d figured that if he cooked the food beforehand, and then offered it, that Ranpo might be more willing to eat it.

Ranpo looked up when his name was called and hummed to show he’d heard.

“I have made some soba for lunch. Would you like some?” Fukuzawa asked, even as he carefully split the dish apart into two servings. Even if Ranpo didn’t end up eating all of the meal, the dish that Fukuzawa had cooked was chosen for that specific purpose since it could always be reheated later on. But he was still hoping that Ranpo would actually eat all of it; he was so scrawny that Fukuzawa was actually worried about the boy’s health.

Ranpo’s eyes—closed by choice as far as he knew for yet another reason Fukuzawa wasn’t aware off—flicked open to look from the bowls in Fukuzawa’s hands to Fukuzawa’s face before slipping closed again. The silence between them extends for another minute as Ranpo just sat there before the boy is smiling wide, sliding off the couch to sit at the low table in front of it. “Sure thing! I’m so hungry I could eat yours as well!”

Fukuzawa blinked at the sudden change in attitude; he’d almost gotten used to the silent Ranpo, as unnatural as it was, but even though Ranpo looked happy, there was something tickling the back of Fukuzawa’s mind that not everything was okay, that maybe the young teen was trying to force that smile in order to reassure him. Stop looking for problems that aren’t there, Yukichi, he told himself, trying his best to push his concerns away, Ranpo is clearly just adjusting to a new environment still, and probably recovering from that disaster of a shopping trip.

He’d expected lunch to be a quiet affair, like every other meal had been the past few days, but it seemed that whatever thoughts or worries that had been plaguing Ranpo’s mind were gone, because the boy was chatting away, so fast it was amazing he still had enough air in his lungs to keep talking. And it wasn’t even about anything important, like what was going to happen next, or complaints about the new living arrangements like Fukuzawa had been expecting; it was literally about mundane stuff; the birds that had been perched on the balcony that morning, the lack of sweetness in the soba—Fukuzawa had to wonder that if he stuck straight sugar in front of Ranpo, whether the boy would just eat that instead—and the tiny size of the apartment.

Which gave Fukuzawa the perfect opportunity to butt into the rambling.

“The apartment being small is something I intend to rectify in time.” Fukuzawa swallowed the last of the noodles in his mouth and set his chopsticks on top of the bowl. “But first, we need to figure out what it is that you are doing.”

Ranpo froze in his seat, good mood vanishing completely, as he continued to swirl his own chopsticks around the bowl in front of him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve already told me you wanted to stay here, but you haven’t seemed very happy to be here the past few days. I am simply wondering if you’ve changed your mind?”

“I haven’t.” Ranpo nibbled on the noodles. “I do want to stay here, it’s just… new.” The boy shrugged and pushed his food away from him. “I’m just adjusting to all this still.”

Fukuzawa can read the unspoken words in the way the tension lined Ranpo’s shoulders, and the way that Ranpo refused to lift his gaze from where it was focused on the table. “You fear that this is temporary, and that I will grow sick of you, and throw you out just like others have done to you before.”

“I don’t fear, I know.”

“I have no intentions of throwing you out, Ranpo.” Fukuzawa frowned at the way Ranpo sounded so certain that he was going to return to life on the streets despite Fukuzawa already promising not to do that. “I meant what I said when I said you were welcome to stay, and I will continue to mean it. I refuse to be like those adults that you despise so much, who rather than take the time to help you, just threw you out onto the streets.”

His words caused Ranpo to draw his knees to his chest and hide his face into them, but he couldn’t see any signs that Ranpo was crying so he stayed where he was and just waited patiently. “You don’t know me.” Ranpo said after several minutes. “You say all these things now, but once you get to know me, you won’t be saying those things.”

Fukuzawa’s frown deepened, and Ranpo curled up even smaller.

“Adults always say they care, you know? But it’s all lies. They put on a smile and talk to you even though they just think you’re some stupid kid not even worth their precious time. They promise you food and a safe place to sleep and a job, but then a few days go by and they’re throwing you out onto the streets because you did something they didn’t like. And before you say ‘not all adults’, it is. It’s why I know that if I’m not careful, you’ll grow sick of me too and just throw me out, and… I don’t want to be discarded again. It’s tiring.”

It made sense to Fukuzawa in that moment, why when he’d met Ranpo, the boy had always made comments about hating the adult world, and not understanding adults when they spoke to him. For so long, Ranpo had been failed by the adults that were supposed to help and support him. He recalled the moment at the restaurant where Ranpo had told him he’d only come to Yokohama in the first place was because the director of the police academy had been good friends with his father. And instead of being cared for, Ranpo had found himself on the streets in a city he was unfamiliar in, with no one to rely on but himself. And it made sense now, why Ranpo was so skeptical and annoyed when other people didn’t just say what they meant to begin with, because why drag out the pain to begin with? Why not just say the cruel words and be done with it regardless of how cruel they actually are?

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa waited for Ranpo to acknowledge him. “You are right, I don’t know you, but you also don’t know me despite what you may have already deduced. And you may not trust my words, but they are the truth. I will not throw you out. I do care about your wellbeing. If someone you do annoys me, I will tell you so. And if something I do annoys you, you can tell me as well. I understand your mistrust, it is well deserved after everything you have been through, and I don’t expect you to trust me right now, but when you are ready to trust again, you can trust me.”

Ranpo nodded, and returned his head to his knees. “Communication, huh… I’m not good at that.”

Fukuzawa shrugged. “And neither am I. We’ll just have to figure it out as we go, alright?” He leaned over and pushed Ranpo’s half-eaten bowl back towards him. “But first, finish your lunch. You haven’t been eating.”

Ranpo gave him a look, but dragged the bowl closer and began to nibble on the noodles once again whilst Fukuzawa stood to dispose of his own bowl. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ranpo eat, well sort of eat really since all Ranpo seemed to do was take a bite or two and then push his food around a bit, and then repeat. It worried him a little, but Fukuzawa wasn’t going to say anything right now, not until he was certain it was something he truly needed to worry about in the first place. He reached into one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out some clingwrap. “If you can’t finish it, Ranpo, just cover it and put it back in the fridge. You can eat it later.”

“Thanks.” Ranpo sighed as he pushed the bowl away once again, this time standing and coming to stand beside Fukuzawa while he wrapped his lunch to put it away.

Fukuzawa was about to leave and get started on finding his next job, when Ranpo spoke. “What’s… happening now?”

“What do you mean?” Fukuzawa asked.

“When you agreed to take me in, you said you’d give me work and that we needed to do things. You know, like shopping.” Ranpo looked up at him. “And we’ve done the shopping part, so what’s next?”

“That is what I am going to figure out.” Fukuzawa explained as he made his way over to his laptop that resided on the low table in the living room. “The important part for that trip was getting you some clothes and food, but now that you have those, we can slow down and take things one at a time.”

Ranpo followed him over and returned to his spot on the couch, grabbing the glasses that Fukuzawa had given him and just holding them. “Okay, but what are you planning?”

“Well,” Fukuzawa angled the laptop so that Ranpo could look over his shoulder. “I am looking at a bigger apartment so that you can have your own space—”

“And so you can have your own room back?” Ranpo interrupted with a grin on his face. “Not used to sharing space are you, old man?”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes. “I am not, and sharing my room is not the issue. I am getting used to waking up with you drooling onto my sleepwear. The issue—”

“Hey, I don’t drool!”

“—is that you are a growing teenage boy that needs space of your own.” Fukuzawa looked over his shoulder and levelled Ranpo with a stare. “Besides, I am only renting this apartment so we will have to move eventually anyways. So I will start the search now.”

“Okay, okay, fine, but that’s not all you’re doing are you? You’ve got other tabs open. I can see them.” Ranpo leaned closer, almost falling off the couch to do so if it weren’t for his grip on the arm of it.

“I am looking for a suitable doctor to take you to.” Fukuzawa said, and before he can say anything else, Ranpo shoved himself into the back of the couch, that guarded look from a few days prior slapped onto his face.

“Why?”

“Because you have lived on the streets for over a year without any kind of medical care.” Fukuzawa answered carefully, on edge himself from the way that Ranpo had drawn away from him so fast when only seconds ago, they’d been bantering. “It will be nothing more than a simple health check, Ranpo.”

Ranpo was silent, body tense and eyes glaring, not from anger, but from fear. Fukuzawa made sure to keep his expression neutral even though he wanted to frown at the boy’s behaviour. It’s normal for people, especially children, to be fearful of doctors. The memory of what happened in the grocery store crossed his mind, of Ranpo shutting down and yelling because too much was going on around him. Maybe the sensory issues are the reason?

“Do you fear that the doctor’s office will be like the grocery store?” He asked, just to be certain.

After a moment, Ranpo gave a slow nod. “They aren’t nice places.” He sounded hesitant, like it was shameful of him to be admitting that he was scared of something. “Bright and lots screaming children.”

“Alright, I’ll see if I can find one that’s better for you.” Fukuzawa said. “Is there anything else you require to make it easier on you?”

“Not going at all would be best.” Ranpo mumbled under his breath, but then louder, he answered Fukuzawa’s question. “A female doctor. One that’s nice.”

“Okay.” Fukuzawa reached behind him to ruffle Ranpo’s hair, smiling softly. “I know you don’t want to go. If it helps, this is the only visit you’ll need to make unless the doctor finds something wrong.”

Ranpo hummed and stood. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Fukuzawa nodded and watched as Ranpo left the room, observing the way that the teen still seemed on edge, and waited until he heard the sound of the bedroom door closing before he let out the sigh that he’d been holding back this entire time. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest against the couch. His eyes opened a second later and he stared at the ceiling. I’m not cut out to raise this boy.

Over the next week, almost two weeks since they’d first met, Ranpo’s mood seemed to improve, for the boy had finally begun to emerge from the shell he’d sequestered himself away in and the Ranpo that Fukuzawa had first met returned. Fukuzawa wanted to put it down to that Ranpo had simply grown comfortable in the apartment, and that he’d realized that Fukuzawa wasn’t going to throw him back into the streets, but that would make him a fool and a fool he was not. Because the past week had taught him a lot, and caused him to realize that he was very much in over his head with this parenting gimmick even though he was doing his best to not let that get to him. But it was hard, when he’d realized that despite the way Ranpo presented himself to others was just for show, and that underneath that mask, lay a very fragile and uncertain boy.

He’d learnt this on the sixth night of them living together, when he’d woken during the middle of the night to find that Ranpo wasn’t in the futon next to him, and that the apartment was deathly silent. Panic had been quick to fill him, and Fukuzawa had thrown himself out of bed and out into the hallway, ready to tear down his apartment to find the missing boy, only to see the bathroom light on, and the door cracked just enough for him to hear the whimpers and sobs coming from within.

It’d torn his heart into pieces, to push open that door and find Ranpo pressed into the corner with tears streaming down his face and a hand covering his mouth because he hadn’t wanted to disturb Fukuzawa with his crying. Not even a second passed before Fukuzawa was sitting on the floor next to Ranpo and drawing the boy into an embrace.

“Talk to me, Ranpo. Tell me what’s wrong?” Fukuzawa asked.

Ranpo cried into his chest. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. But if you don’t want to talk though, that is fine, but if you do, I will listen.”

Ranpo had continued to cry for a while into Fukuzawa’s shirt before he finally opened up about what had brought on the tears, and as promised, Fukuzawa had listened. He’d listened as Ranpo told him about how he hadn’t really been given the chance to process everything that’d happened to him since his parents death, that so much had happened to him in such a short amount of time that all he could do was lock the emotions away until an appropriate time. A time that had decided to come at two in the morning.

Fukuzawa felt like crying alongside Ranpo as he listened, heart clenching at knowing that for almost two years, Ranpo had been holding his emotions back because he hadn’t felt safe enough to let them out, not until Fukuzawa had come along and provided him the safe place he’d needed to just break down. But he didn’t. He just sat there and held Ranpo close, one arm providing a firm and reassuring pressure, and the other running through Ranpo’s hair to soothe him.

The sun had been rising by the time that Ranpo had calmed down enough to drift back off to sleep, so Fukuzawa had taken him back to bed and covered the boy in blankets. He wanted nothing more than to join Ranpo in sleep, staying up most of the night providing comfort was tiring apparently, but Fukuzawa had been called for a job, so instead of getting some much needed rest, he’d woken Ranpo enough to tell him he would be gone, but to call if he was needed, and gone to work after Ranpo acknowledged him.

He'd still left a note, just in case Ranpo hadn’t been awake enough to remember what Fukuzawa had told him.

After Ranpo’s breakdown in the bathroom, he’d taken that as the perfect opportunity to open up to Fukuzawa, apparently deeming Fukuzawa worthy of knowing a few things about him—not much, but enough to make Fukuzawa’s life a little easier.

Not that Fukuzawa had been expecting Ranpo to do that, since he’d come home from work and been dragged to the dining table, and having some tea that had been steeped just a little too long shoved at him. Fukuzawa had blinked, but accepted his fate and sat at the table, tea resting in front of him as Ranpo fidgeted across from him. Twenty minutes passed before Ranpo finally spoke. “I can tell now that you aren’t going to throw me out, and because I know that, I want to tell you some things. About me.”

Fukuzawa sipped the tea Ranpo had made for him. “I’m listening.”

Ranpo took a deep breath, clutching a glass of water close to him in order to still his restless hands. “I have issues with sounds and lights, which you already figured out, but they aren’t all.” Ranpo looked up and waited for Fukuzawa to nod before continuing. “It’s… hard to explain, but food and sometimes clothing… are also annoying.”

“Annoying? How do you mean?” Fukuzawa asked. He made sure to give Ranpo his full attention as he spoke, grateful that Ranpo was finally trusting him enough to open up to him. He wanted to understand the boy in his care better, and knew that whatever Ranpo told him would help, he just had to be open minded and listen.

“I dunno.” Ranpo shrugged. “Clothes are easier to deal with I guess; they just need to be soft and not tight. Food is… harder. I can’t really, I dunno, tell you what I can eat and what I can’t eat.”

Fukuzawa hesitated, before carefully speaking. “Is that because of your time on the streets?”

Ranpo nodded once. “It was either eat what I could get, or starve.”

“And that’s why you snack.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and it was one that had Ranpo nodding.

“Yeah. Snacks are easy, and accessible. And, I appreciate when you cook, but it’s… hard. Right now at least.”

“I understand.” And Fukuzawa did. He didn’t fully understand the reasoning why Ranpo was averse to certain things, and he had a feeling that Ranpo didn’t quite understand either, but he did get why food was difficult for the boy at this point in time; living on the streets for any amount of time was harsh and sometimes cruel, and it one’s next meal wasn’t always a guarantee. And while snacks were easy, like Ranpo said, most were not nutritious enough to be sustainable. “I will stick to simple meals for now; noodles and rice, and you eat what you can.”

“And… what if I can’t eat the meals you cook?” Ranpo asked slowly, dropping his eyes to the table as his hands began to fidget again.

“Then you tell me and we’ll make you something you can eat.” Fukuzawa said.

“Okay.” A pause. “I’m a little hungry now.”

Fukuzawa stood from the table and made his way towards the kitchen. “I’ll cook dinner then. Eggs and rice sound good?”

Ranpo opened his eyes and smiled. “Yeah, sounds great.”

And after those rough couple of days, things were fine.

Until now.

Because it was time to tackle the last thing on his internal checklist; the doctor.

“Breathe, Ranpo. Just breathe.” Fukuzawa placed his hand on Ranpo’s back, feeling the way Ranpo trembled underneath his palm. The doctor’s office was in sight, literally only a few metres away, but Ranpo had taken one look and frozen dead in his tracks, and had been unwilling to move no matter how much Fukuzawa tried to coax him to keep moving. Thankfully, there’d been a bench close by that he’d managed to lead Ranpo to, and now he was just doing his best to try and calm Ranpo down so that they could actually get into the office.

Ranpo took a breath and brought his knees to his chest, hiding his face into them a moment later. “I want to go home, Fukuzawa-san.”

“I know you do.” Fukuzawa sat on the bench next to Ranpo, and frowned when the boy pulled away from him, curling into the corner of the bench to face away from him. He watched Ranpo carefully, trying to understand what he’d done to cause Ranpo—who’d always reacted to physical comfort well from what he’d witnessed—to withdraw when things had finally been getting better between them. There was tension in Ranpo’s entire body, and although his face was turned away, it didn’t take a genius to realize that Ranpo was afraid.

It reminded him of that time in the grocery store when Ranpo had become so overwhelmed he’d lashed out, only instead of lashing out like he had back then, he was withdrawing completely. Only, unlike the grocery store, Fukuzawa didn’t know how to help this time, not when Ranpo had made it clear he didn’t want to be touched.

“Can we please go home?” Ranpo’s hands clutched at the arm of the bench, eyes squeezed shut, and all the air in his lungs leaving in a singular breath.

“You told me not to let you.” Fukuzawa was gentle with his words, reminding Ranpo of their conversation that morning where Ranpo had quietly told him that his fear of the upcoming appointment was more than enough for him to become irrational, and that he would most likely try to convince Fukuzawa to just go back home. They’d sat on the couch for an hour, and Fukuzawa had gone over everything he knew about the office and the doctor; going on to tell Ranpo of his own experiences as a child, because despite it being many, many years ago, he figured the words might help to soothe Ranpo’s fears.

And they had, at least, that’s what Fukuzawa had thought, but apparently he’d been wrong.

“So? I can change my mind. I don’t want to go. I don’t need to go. Let’s just go home, alright?” Ranpo’s grip tightened as he grew more anxious.

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa said. “Take a breath for me.”

Ranpo did.

“Another.”

A deeper breath this time. Ranpo’s hands loosened.

“Again.”

This breath relieved the tension in Ranpo’s shoulders and very slowly, the boy turned to face him, lifting his head to meet Fukuzawa’s eyes, his own flicking open.

“Do you feel better?” Fukuzawa asked.

Ranpo nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry though.”

Fukuzawa reached over with his hand and held it out, leaving it up to Ranpo to decide if he wanted the extra support or not. Ranpo eyed his hand carefully before he slid across the bench and threw himself against Fukuzawa, much like he had the night at the warehouse, only this time, there were no tears involved. And this time, Fukuzawa knew what he was supposed to do, and wrapped his own arms around Ranpo’s tiny frame. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“You’re just trying to help me, and I’m not making it easy.”

Fukuzawa gave Ranpo a reassuring squeeze. “It does not bother me. You are frightened for a reason, and that is fine. If you wish to tell me what scares you so—”

“I don’t.” Ranpo interrupted, pulling away from the embrace, some of that earlier tension returning. “And you can’t make me tell you.”

“I have no intention of making you tell me.” Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow and stood. “Forcing you to tell me would be counterproductive and do more harm than good. I simply trust that in time, you may trust me enough to tell me, but even if you don’t ever tell me, I will continue to support you as best I can with what I do know.”

Ranpo ducked his head and mumbled. “I do trust you…”

“Not fully. We have only known each other for two weeks, Ranpo, and while you may trust me enough to tell me some things about yourself—which I am grateful for—I do not expect you to trust me enough to divulge everything you haven’t yet told me.” Fukuzawa explained, not quite sure if he was making much sense, but if there was anyone that would understand the point he was trying to convey, it was the teenage genius sitting in front of him.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Ranpo nodded and stood. “Okay. Thank you. You know, for not pushing me.”

Fukuzawa nodded and took a step towards the doctor’s clinic, relieved when Ranpo fell into step behind him. The boy was quiet, and remained quiet as they entered the building, only stepping closer to Fukuzawa and grabbing onto his sleeve with a death grip. And he was still quiet as Fukuzawa spoke to the receptionist, and when they took a seat in the quietest part of the waiting room. There were only a few other people in the waiting room with them, which Fukuzawa had expected, considering he’d made the appointment for the end of the day; it was a small attempt to make Ranpo feel more comfortable in an already uncomfortable environment.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Fukuzawa asked.

Ranpo shook his head. “I can do it on my own.”

“Alright.” And just as he’d said that, a nurse stepped out of the room and called for Ranpo, the teen jerking in his seat beside him. Fukuzawa placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’ll be right here if you do need me, okay?”

Ranpo nodded, and slowly shuffled off after the nurse, disappearing into one of the rooms. Fukuzawa watched the door with focused eyes, worried that Ranpo had been putting on a brave face and that he’d only rejected Fukuzawa’s offer to not feel like he was being a burden. But there was a feeling deep inside him that said that wasn’t the case at all; when Ranpo had walked past him, there’d been a look to his eyes, one that Fukuzawa had seen before but not been able to place at the time. And he still couldn’t, but it wasn’t a coincidence to see the same haunted look twice… right?

Fukuzawa fought the urge to get up and start pacing as the time ticked by and there was no sign of Ranpo emerging—it’d only been perhaps ten minutes, but still—yet somehow, he managed to stay in his seat, still as stone as he tuned out his surroundings. The other people in the waiting room went to their own appointments and left, and soon enough, it was just Fukuzawa and the receptionists left in the vicinity.

Worry was starting to grow within him, because the few doctors appointments he’d been to as a child himself, had never gone on for more than a few minutes, no matter how sick or injured he’d been when dragged there by his parents. Although… Fukuzawa had never been forced to live on the streets at any point in his life, so it was highly likely that the doctor was just making sure that Ranpo was okay. Fukuzawa took a breath to try and clear the worry from his mind; it’d only been two weeks and already, he was worrying about Ranpo like he’d known the kid for years.

A door opened and Fukuzawa stood just in time to catch Ranpo in his arms, the boy burrowing himself into his yukata in an attempt to hide. Fukuzawa doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Ranpo to hide him further, lifting his head to meet the eyes of the doctor Ranpo had been speaking to. The doctor is young, and has a kind face, so Fukuzawa was at a bit of a loss as to why Ranpo’s clinging to him like his world has just ended.

“You must be Ranpo’s guardian.” The doctor stopped in front of him, keeping a respectable distance, yet still exuding a friendly aura as she hands him a piece of paper. “Aside from being deficient in several vitamin’s and underweight, Ranpo is quite healthy, considering he’s been living on the streets for as long as he told me.”

Ranpo’s grip tightened, and Fukuzawa moved one of his arms so that his sleeves were almost ensconcing Ranpo entirely. The other arm reached out to take the paper that had the names of some vitamins scrawled onto it, along with a few other things that Fukuzawa would look into later. The doctor continued on, “I’ve written down some supplements that I recommend Ranpo start taking to try and get his levels back up, which you can get at pretty much any pharmacy, and then in, let’s say… three months, come back and we’ll see if he’s doing any better and if we need to do anything more.”

“Okay.” Fukuzawa gently toyed with Ranpo’s hair as the boy tensed further. He wasn’t particularly fond of talking about Ranpo as if he wasn’t right there listening—if he even was in the first place—to them do so, but it also didn’t look like Ranpo would react well at all if they even gave the slightest inclination of trying to include him. Still, Fukuzawa was reluctant as he asked, “And what about the underweight part? How can I help with that?”

“With time and patience mostly, but if you can get the kid eating regular meals, then he’ll put on weight.” The doctor explained. “Any concerns, you can call the office and they’ll put you straight through to me, but if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you back here in three months.”

“Thank you.” Fukuzawa guided Ranpo out of the building quickly once the doctor returned to her office, and crouched before the boy once they had gained some distance. “What’s wrong, Ranpo?”

Thin arms wrap around his neck, and Ranpo buries his face into the crook of Fukuzawa’s neck; he understands immediately what is being asked of him despite Ranpo not saying anything, and lifts the teen into his arms and began to set off for home. “What’s wrong?” He repeated.

“Nothing.” The words are croaked into his neck, and Fukuzawa could feel tears beginning to fall against his skin. Ranpo sniffed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. But I’m here if you do, okay?”

Ranpo nodded, and the rest of the walk home was filled with silence, only broken by the occasional noise that Ranpo let out as he quietly cried. Fukuzawa tried his best not to worry, and focused on soothing Ranpo instead, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened with the doctor to make Ranpo feel this way.

Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

Fukuzawa sat next to Ranpo’s futon, a book in one hand while the other ran through Ranpo’s hair. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was reading, no matter how much he forced himself to try and read more than the same few sentences over and over again. But he couldn’t focus, not when Ranpo was still so upset. The teen was asleep now, curled up underneath his blankets with his face hidden; when they’d arrived home, Fukuzawa had put Ranpo down, only for the boy to collapse and break entirely. For twenty minutes, they’d sat there on the floor in the entryway, Fukuzawa just holding Ranpo and shushing him gently as he cried. But for twenty minutes, Ranpo had continued to cry until the exhaustion became too much and he’d passed out in his arms.

So, he’d taken Ranpo to bed, and tucked him in before sitting beside him, ready to keep watch until Ranpo woke just so the kid didn’t have to wake up alone wondering where he’d gone. And so far, it’d been just over two hours; the sun had set and Fukuzawa knew he should get up and cook something, but he just couldn’t bring himself to, not until he knew Ranpo would be okay. And even then, he wouldn’t let Ranpo out of his sight.

He paused in his ministrations when he felt Ranpo stir underneath his palm and just waited. Ranpo curled up as he struggled back into the waking world, before his eyes blinked open, revealing those green eyes to the world. Fukuzawa was patient as Ranpo tried to gain his bearings, the teen looking around the room, and at him before he resorted to staring at his lap, eyes slipping shut.

Fukuzawa stood. “I am about to get started on dinner, Ranpo. Would you like something in particular?”

Ranpo shook his head. “’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa frowned, the worry that had never truly faded since arriving back at home, returning in full force, especially after the doctor had told him he was supposed to be trying to get Ranpo to eat proper meals again. When Ranpo didn’t answer him, Fukuzawa continued to try getting Ranpo to agree to eat. “I believe I may have some apples. I’ll cut one up for you.”

Still, Ranpo said nothing, and Fukuzawa quietly left the bedroom, leaving the door cracked open while he quickly moved to the kitchen to do as he’d said. While he sliced the apple—just one, like he’d said—he tried to grapple with this new situation he’d found himself in. Ranpo’s silence reminded him of those few days after he’d taken the boy in, where Ranpo hadn’t quite believed that Fukuzawa was going to keep him around; only this time, it felt like a completely different kind of silence, one that didn’t promise anything good.

Once Fukuzawa had cut up the apple and placed it on a plate, he returned to the room and knelt beside Ranpo, coaxing the boy into sitting up. “Take as long as you need, but try to eat it all if you can.”

Ranpo just stared at the plate, before he picked up a slice and nibbled on it.

Fukuzawa felt himself breathe a little easier in that moment.

And that was when the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Five days. That was all it took for everything Fukuzawa thought he knew about Ranpo to become completely and utterly useless. In just five, short days, all the work Fukuzawa had put into learning how to be an effective parental figure for Ranpo over the last couple of months was completely undone, and he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix it.

The first issue was Ranpo’s complete lack of appetite. Gone was the boy who snacked all day; now Ranpo refused to eat anything, no matter how much Fukuzawa tried to convince the boy to eat something, anything. The best he’d been able to do was get Ranpo to eat half an apple, and that had been on the second day, but he still continued to try, leaving apples and other fruits on a plate next to Ranpo’s futon in the small hope that Ranpo would eat at least a little bit. But, it didn’t work, and Ranpo began to lose weight he didn’t have to spare, and Fukuzawa grew more worried.

The second issue was that Ranpo had stopped sleeping, or if he even did get to sleep, it was restless and poor. Several times, Fukuzawa had woken up to find Ranpo awake and on the couch, tired eyes focused on the television, and none of those times had he managed to convince the boy to go back to his futon and attempt to get some rest. The first night it’d happened, Fukuzawa hadn’t known, although he had noticed the eyebags that slowly got worse the more time passed. Now, on the fourth and fifth nights, Fukuzawa had sat at the dining table, just watching Ranpo and providing him with some company. No words were ever said, and Ranpo never told him to leave, but he never seemed to acknowledge Fukuzawa either.

The third issue was the fear. And admittedly, it was the hardest for Fukuzawa to manage, because anytime he tried to approach Ranpo to try and find out what was wrong and whether he could help, Ranpo just froze, and that haunted look emerged from whatever dark corner of Ranpo’s mind it originated from before the boy was fleeing from him, leaving Fukuzawa to stand there awkwardly wondering just what it was that he’d done wrong. There was a feeling, deep inside him, that told him that it wasn’t actually him that Ranpo was suddenly afraid of, but something or someone else that he didn’t know about. And he didn’t know which one scared him more.

With each issue just piling on top of the others, it wasn’t a surprise when Ranpo fell ill. Fukuzawa woke up on the sixth day to find Ranpo curled up in the bathtub of all places, face flushed red from fever, with the shower spraying his body.

“Oh Ranpo…” He sighed, running a hand down his face before reaching over to turn the shower off so to stop the boy from giving himself hypothermia or, even worse, drowning himself. Ranpo shivered the moment the water stopped, and subconsciously curled into a ball. Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to pluck Ranpo from the tub, ignoring the way that water dripped from sodden clothes onto the floor and carried the teen back to their shared room with the intention of getting Ranpo into some dry clothing and tucked into his bed. He only managed to get as far as undoing the first few buttons of Ranpo’s sleepshirt before Ranpo’s eyes flew open and he was promptly shoved away by the boy.

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” Ranpo scrambled to get away, going until his back pressed against the wall where he continued to shake and stare at Fukuzawa with pure, unadulterated fear.

Fukuzawa frowned and stepped forward to place a calming hand on Ranpo’s shoulder, only realizing his mistake too late. “Ranpo, it’s just me. I’m trying to—”

A tiny fist collided with Fukuzawa’s nose and he recoiled immediately, bring a hand to clutch at it. Ranpo curled up, and screamed at him. “Don’t touch me!”

Fukuzawa took a step back and blinked away the tears that had formed from being hit; Ranpo might not have held much power in that punch of his, but he’d landed it in just the right spot to make it really hurt. Once he could see clearly, he began to lower his hands, before thinking better and raising both of them so that they were visible to Ranpo. It was clear that Ranpo was spooked, and spooked bad, so he was willing to do anything to help lessen that fear no matter what it took. He slowly fell into a kneel a respectable distance from Ranpo. “You’re safe, Ranpo. Safe.”

Ranpo shook his head and pressed himself further into the wall. The movement caused his shirt to slip down and Fukuzawa froze.

A scar, long healed but still new, located on Ranpo’s shoulder, but that wasn’t what caused Fukuzawa’s dread. It was the fact that the scar was in the shape of human teeth that had Fukuzawa wanting to hunt down whoever had dared to leave such a mark and eviscerate them, leaving their corpse so unrecognizable that not even Ranpo would be able to solve it. Fukuzawa paused as realization dawned on him, gaining a little more understanding as to why Ranpo was so untrusting of others. Why he’d been so unsure about Fukuzawa’s intentions of taking him in.

And why, after an innocent visit to the doctor, was so scared of him.

The only issue is, while he has a better understanding, it still doesn’t help him understand how to help Ranpo now, not when he doesn’t know the whole story, and he knows that Ranpo will mostly likely never tell him; had probably never ever intended to tell him in the first place. Fukuzawa took a breath and shuffled backwards that little bit further, hands still raised until he sat cross legged and rested them—palms up—against his knees. “Ranpo. Can you look at me, please?”

Ranpo lifted his head just enough from where he was curled up, his eyes hazy from the fever, but still focused on him.

“I’m going to stand, and grab you a towel and some clothes to change into. Then I am going to leave the room. I will wait outside until you are ready for me to come back in. Okay?” Fukuzawa watched Ranpo carefully, doing his best to keep his expression calm. He could see Ranpo thinking, or trying to at least, despite the fever and exhaustion that was clouding the boys mind.

Finally, Ranpo nodded.

Fukuzawa kept his movements as he stood, leaving the room momentarily to grab a towel before he returned to the room. He made sure to move just as slow as he crossed over to the singular wardrobe and pulled out Ranpo’s most comfortable clothes, and carefully placed the clothes and towel in front of Ranpo without getting too close before backing away. And, still moving slowly, he left the room, taking care to shut the door behind him.

He’s just a boy. A child, and someone dared to leave such a mark. He sighed and slid down the wall, burying his face into his hands as he focused on just breathing and calming down from this newest discovery. Because for six days, he’d been so focused on trying to take care of Ranpo that he’d neglected to take care of himself and only just now, he realized just how much it was affecting him. Fukuzawa was exhausted, right down to his bones. It wasn’t an exhaustion like any other, brought on by all the stress and worry that he’d been doing because of Ranpo’s condition. But he tried to push that exhaustion away, because right now, Ranpo needed him at the top of his game, which meant that there wasn’t time for him to fall apart.

Not yet anyway.

The door cracked open after an hour, and Fukuzawa’s head shot up so fast from the light doze he’d found himself in, and stared into Ranpo’s eyes. There were many emotions running across Ranpo’s face right now; fear, uncertainty, acceptance, but mostly fear. Fukuzawa threw the boy a soft smile with the intent of making himself appear as less of a threat. As if I’d ever harm Ranpo in the way that someone else even dared to. If I ever find out who did that, I’ll use my sword on them. “If you’d like, we can keep the door between us for now.”

Ranpo shrugged, and the door opened a little wider. An invitation. “You saw.”

“I did.” Fukuzawa made no attempt to get up and enter the room.

Ranpo fidgeted uneasily.

“How about I grab some medicine for that fever of yours, and then—”

“You aren’t going to ask?” Ranpo interrupted, hands clutching at the door in a white knuckled grip. He was afraid, scared of being forced to talk about it before he was ready to.

“I want to help you.” Fukuzawa began, rising to his feet slowly. “So I would like to ask you about it. But, I am aware that is probably something incredibly traumatic and hard to talk about, so I will not force you to talk. I will never force you, Ranpo.”

Ranpo let go of the door and disappeared inside of the room, and Fukuzawa made a quick stop to the kitchen to grab some fever medicine and water before also entering. Ranpo was sitting on his futon, arms wrapped around his legs and the hood of the hoodie he was wearing pulled over his head. The boy continued to shake, but it was no longer from cold, but from the coming conversation. Fukuzawa knelt on his own futon and held out a couple of pills and the water. “For your fever.” He explained when Ranpo stared at them.

Ranpo nodded and swallowed the medicine. A silence fell between the two of them, and Fukuzawa waited for Ranpo to be the first to say something. “The doctor made me remember things. About life before you and I met. Bad things.”

“I see. So that is why you’ve been unwell?” Fukuzawa asked.

“Yeah.” Ranpo admitted, and tightened his grip on himself. “I don’t want to tell you about it, but… you’ve been trying to help me without knowing what’s wrong, and, so, you deserve to know.”

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa waited for the teen to lift his head and look at him. “I only want you to tell me if it what you want to do. Not because you feel like you have to tell me.”

Ranpo ducked his head again. “It’s not like you haven’t been able to figure out part of it at least.”

Fukuzawa nodded, because had figure out part of it, but he also didn’t want to assume anything in case he was completely off base, but from Ranpo’s words alone, it appeared his initial thoughts had been correct—as much as he’d wanted them to not be true in the first place. “Then if you want to tell me, I will listen. Would you like to be hugged?”

He watched as Ranpo thought about it before he shuffled over to wrap his arms around Fukuzawa and hide his face into his yukata, letting out a shaky breath. Fukuzawa waited a moment to return the embrace, first laying a hand on Ranpo’s shoulder to make sure that the boy was actually comfortable with being touched before he hugged Ranpo tight. Ranpo tensed underneath him, but relaced into the hug after a moment.

“Winter’s harsh in Yokohama, especially when you have to spend it sleeping in the warmest alleyway you can find.” Ranpo whispered after a moment, although in the silence encompassing the room, it was the loudest sound in existence. “Well, street life is hard in general, you know, lack of food and friends, and there’s a lot of mean people who are also in the same boat as you, but winter is the hardest because you are always cold, and a lot of people die. No one is kind during winter.”

Fukuzawa hummed to show he was listening.

“But you know… I’m a young boy that just so happens to look pretty… pretty enough to attract attention.” Ranpo shuddered in the embrace, and Fukuzawa ran a hand down his back to soothe him. “I saw another street kid once. He went with some rich guy and came back dressed in in proper winter clothes. He was pretty too, so I gave it a try because I was cold and hungry.”

Ranpo stopped talking, and Fukuzawa had to fight to keep himself still, his heart pounding in his chest the longer that Ranpo spoke.

“I just didn’t realize what I’d have to do to get the nice things.”

Fukuzawa couldn’t stop himself from holding Ranpo just that little tighter, struggling to come to terms with how despicable some humans could be. Since the war, the amount of homeless youth had increased drastically, so he wasn’t surprised to learn that some of them had had to resort to such measures just to survive, but to learn that Ranpo was one such youth… it hurt more than it had to see a gun trained on the boy back at the warehouse the day they’d first met. He wished that he could go back in time to protect the boy from ever having to offer himself up just to get food, but he couldn’t. All he could do was listen, and help Ranpo now. “You should never have gone through that. You are just a child, and someone dared to take advantage of that.”

“Yeah, well, it happened. Can’t really change that. It’s not that bad really, all I have is a scar.” Ranpo shrugged, but despite the boys dismissive words, Fukuzawa could feel his yukata starting to get suspiciously damp, so he held Ranpo closer.

“No, we can’t change it, no matter how much we would like to.” Fukuzawa murmured. “But I promise you, that it will never happen again. You are safe here, Ranpo, safe with me, and if we ever run into the person who took advantage of you, he will regret ever doing so in the first place.”

His words caused Ranpo to laugh, and the boy pulled away to wipe his eyes with his sleeves. Ranpo didn’t say anything, but the relief on his face was enough evidence to tell Fukuzawa just how the boy was feeling. And Fukuzawa himself felt relieved after hearing Ranpo laugh, to know that despite all the pain and stress he’d been going through these last six days with the memories he’d been reliving, that there was still hope of him being able to overcome it.

Out of all the things he’d learnt about Ranpo so far, this wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He just hoped that it would be the worst of what he could possibly learn.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #edogawa ranpo #fukuzawa yukichi #dad fukuzawa #fukudad #hurt/comfort #comfort #angst #writing #fanfiction

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tonijpl · 1 year

Text

A Dance of land and Sky

Birdsong through the blackbark trees

summery- The Bronzehorns of blackbark forest are unforgettable, giants of the aristocracy, unbeatable warriors living in the dank dark protection of their inky black ancestral home. There are rumours however, many rumours, Rumours questioning if their family tree stems from giant or bestial blood, that girls born of Bronzehorn blood were rare because of some age old curse, all nonsense of course...

TW- Cursing, general game of throneyness.

This is an OC story with made up people and places within the world of game of thrones.

Hidden by the shadows of the colossal blackbark trees a choir of birds sang to greet the dawn. The rays bursting through the evergreens warming the morning dew shone in such vibrant shades of yellow and orange it surely would have made the lord of light smile.

The hooded figure on horseback riding the trail found little comfort in the birds morning songs, the message, signed and sealed with Targaryen seals, was the only reason he dared venture into the depths of the Inkwood forests. He rode further and further till it grew so dark he started to think sending him in here had all been some cruel jest, like he’d be swallowed whole by some shadowy demon living amongst the black branches above him.

He was about to turn back when he noticed up ahead a banner, tied to a thick branch above him. He could just make out the shimmering shape of a Bull, it looked to be in a charging pose with its head down and one of its front legs up like it had scraped its hoof against the dirt, it glimmered in the growing light like it had been stitched with bronze thread. The banner itself was a deep purple lined with the same shimmering bronze, it was the house banner he’d come to find, to deliver the message, house Bronzehorn.

He stared up at the banner breathing deeply, looking beyond it he realised more banners were strung on branches along the dirt road and in the distance between the trees, the flat top line of a wall peaked through cutting the sunlight short in its wake.

He’d heard stories of the Bronzehorns, Clever and worldly but you’d care very little about intelligent conversations if you got within ten feet of them. “Beasts of men” “Giant blooded” “Huge fucks” was what you’d hear more about, their Lord Jacquard and his two brothers Bastian and Mathis were like marching mountains. They produced mountains too, marrying into Tyrell, Mormont and Arryn they all had boy after boy after boy just as beastly in size as their fathers.

The messenger recalled when the youngest of lord Jacquard’s children was born, he’d thrown a feast unlike any lord of Duskstone ever had before. His wife Mallory, formally of house Tyrell, had given birth to the first girl born into the family name in three or four generations and Jacquard couldn’t have been more proud to say he had a daughter.

The girl, Alora if he was remembering correctly, had been talked about from Winterfell to sunspear, the little lady bull took up the blade just like her brothers, her mothers house had made quite the commotion about it at the time but she silenced them when by fourteen beat her adult cousin, The heir to Highgarden, in a sparring match. She was by all accounts as tall as him, as strong as him and embarrassingly more skilled than him. The few years after that she’d grown taller and stronger and trained with her beloved brothers and cousins religiously, she was a source of immense pride for her father, even if she was unconventional for a woman.

The trees thinned dramatically and suddenly wrenching him from his thoughts as the sunlight flooded into the clearing between the treeline and the curtain wall, it stretched left and right for miles before turning inwards. He tilted back looking for the top of it, but the sun shone too bright, he had to lower his head and blink away the bright spots in his vision. It was taller than the trees and the towers and turrets were taller still, what threats would warrant a wall that big? He thought. He passed through the gatehouse and gazed up in awe at the castle before him.

Duskstone was named after the rich blue stone it was built from, no one not even the Bronzehorns knew from where the stone had come from but its grandeur and beauty was undeniable. Thousands of people lived within the almost perfectly circular wall affectionately referred to as “The Bull pen”, the Lords castle was built high in the centre of it overlooking its people with layered towers and pointed roofs, on one of the lower towers a wisteria tree, the oldest and biggest of the hundreds planted around the keep, perhaps even the mother of them, looked to have grown through the roof and down the walls spreading like vines down the entire building, its willow-like branches dropping purple petals into the air like snow.

He rode up the curving road towards the inner gate flashing the Targaryen sealed letter as reason to be let in, as he got closer he had little trouble pointing out men of Bronzehorn blood as he quickly found the chatter about them to be quite true. Tall and broad young men walking, talking and training amongst average sized nobles and servants, watching the boys training with longswords he made note to never get on the wrong side of this family.

“Watch your footing Alora, cockiness will get you killed!” an alarmingly deep male voice boomed and the messenger whipped his head in its direction. He saw her, a girl of seventeen wearing men's britches and an ill fitted button down swinging her sword at a man much bigger and older than her, smiling brighter than he thought possible of a person.

She and the older man had the same colourings, tanned skin with thick patches of dark freckles, deep auburn hair that in the morning light looked a similar shade to blood, their eyes a shade of pale green that could unsettle a man.

He thought she was beautiful in an odd way and undeniably strong, holding her own and laughing like she was in no danger whatsoever. This must be the famed Alora he thought, he admittedly watched her far longer than he should have holding his letter, he was once again pulled from his thoughts when one of the house guards approached him.

“State your business!”

*******************************************************************************************

“State your business!”

Alora heard ser Lucas call out from nearby, ever the protective body guard she thought, though she hated that her father assigned her a personal guard at all.

“My Lord, it has house Targaryen seals!” he yelled again, Jacquard blocked his daughters swing parrying her blow and knocking her back, she stumbled, shaking her head at her fathers roughness, she sheathed her sword and watched him approach Ser Lucas and the unknown man dismounting from his horse. He tore into the letter sighing loudly, Alora was aware her father wasn't too fond of the dragon lords of kings landing, thankfully over the years him and the rest of the family were able to keep a distance even if they only lived one or two days ride from the walls of the city.

“Oh for fuck sake!” Jacquard exclaimed, so loudly in fact everyone training around her halted their swings and their parry’s some even dropped their swords, it had very suddenly become quiet and everyone's attention was on her fathers sweat stained back. “Every fucking year they make us go to this infernal gathering.” he continued though instead of yelling he just sounding incredibly irritated, he sighed, gruffly, Alora always thought her father sounded like a bear when he sighed, all gruff and nazily. The small smile the thought caused her was wiped clean when he turned, an unusual look of worry on his bearded face. Jallen, her eldest brother strode through the training pairs and bystanders to her side, She and Jallen looked the most alike from her brothers though he was considerably taller with close cut hair and not nearly as many freckles. He touched her shoulder affectionately in passing, something he often did to let others know he was there.

“Father, is everything alright? What does it say?” Jallen had a habit of making himself the leader in situations, the one who asks first, the one who swings first, talks first, put himself in harms way or, in this instance, asks his annoyed father exactly what’s annoying him.

“This.” He held up the letter and shook it as if to strangle it. “We have been invited to their annual ball!” He declared over the crowd, Alora’s other two brothers Braeden and Dantis had quickly made their way behind their brother.

“Why is that such a bad thing?” Dantis the youngest boy only a year or so older than her asked confused by his fathers annoyance at something they’ve had to go to every year.

“Because my boy they’ve asked for all of us, meaning myself and your mother, you, Braeden, Jallen… and Alora.” All three young men visibly tensed, Alora on the other hand upon hearing she was also invited was fighting the urge to jump up and down in excitement. Jacquard straightened the page, cleared his throat and read aloud. “This will be a wonderful opportunity to finally meet your daughter Lord Bronzehorn, I myself and my family have heard of her feats and accomplishments and would enjoy speaking with such an extraordinary young lady. Other lords and ladies of the court would no doubt like to meet her for themselves as well. Signed by the Queen herself.” He held it high. “Her majesty wants to meet our little Lady Bull my boys… she’s not a child anymore.” She didn’t catch the small crack in his voice at declaring his daughter to no longer be a child but her brothers most definitely did.

The old Lord folded the letter silently and is he turned he mumbled, “I must go and tell your mother.” He trudged his way towards the keep leaving his children behind him.

*******************************************************************************************

Alora had wasted little time waiting for her father to disappear into the castle before she burst into loud girlish screams of excitement, she bounced around her brothers exclaiming that she was finally going to see kings landing.

Growing up living as close as they do to the Targaryen's they’d often see a dragon or two flying overhead or in the distance, she’d watch them and dream of flying with them but her brothers would always tell her “bulls like us are meant for the ground” “They’d sooner eat you dear sister”, she hated when they said stuff like that.

“Maybe, maybe ill get the chance to spar with Prince Aemond, I've been told he’s a great swordsmen too!” again all three tensed hard.

“It would be better to keep your distance from any of those lizard riders Alora, especially Aemond, They're as murderous as the beasts they’re attached to.” Jallen ground out before breaking away from them all and marching off towards the gardens.

As he stomped away, Dantis took her shoulders and faced her towards himself, he’d taken after their mother the most, his curls were the most pronounced like the Tyrell’s and he had not a blemish on his skin never mind a freckle. he had such a worried expression on his fair face as he leant forward she could not help mirror it if only briefly. “Mother made a deal with father that she’d wait until you were seventeen before they would start looking for a suitor for you, he’s been putting it off and this ball will be an opportunity for mother to scout out a decent match.”

Her excitement dwindled fast, really fast, marriage wasn’t something she’d ever been interested in, the very idea of marrying a man she barely knows and then being taken away from everything and everyone she loves made her want to run into the woods and never come back. Her mother had called her foolish, told her it was her duty to marry well and produce strong heirs, not dance about and “Act like a man”, they'd been arguing about the same thing since Alora was fourteen.

“Find me a decent match? It all makes me feel like some prized breeding sow, I am more than what I can give a man... Why can’t mother see that?” Her shoulders slouched and the mood soured, Marriage she thought, A cell sounded comfier.

Braedon’s hand cupped the back of her neck, her middle brother, Tallest of the three, wore his curled hair long down his back cuffed and braided in gold same as his immaculate beard, it covered most of the freckles but a few around his eyes and forehead shone through.

“Listen, we will be here to scare off the unworthy, protect you and love you no matter what happens... we will worry about it when that brave soul come forward, for now I’ll let you in on a little secret we keep from our dear brother lord grump.” Braedon had always been the most relaxed, which in most cases meant the most level headed. Alora looked up at him still looking miserable as sin but curious as to what this secret was naturally. “I know Prince Aemond, We write regularly, id even go as far as to call him a friend.” Alora’s eyes widened, she’d never admit it but she was a little fascinated with the Targaryen's, Aemond “One-eye” most of all. “He knows of you, I've told him of your accomplishments and what a gem you are to this family.” She pursed her lips in an effort not to be embarrassed at the thought of Aemond knowing who she is. “They really are interested in meeting you like the letter father received said, I think I had a hand in that interest, If you would like I could message him today, ask him if he’d like to train with us including our mysterious sister.” he forced a giggle from her tickling the back of her neck. Dantis joined in pulling laughs from her before throwing her over his shoulder and bouncing off towards the castle, Braedon in tow.

*******************************************************************************************

Aemond my friend I hope all is well, We have received your family’s annual gathering invitation and I look forward to seeing you again. This year as you probably know my dear sister Alora has also been invited and will be joining us, she is excited to put it mildly and has asked if it would be possible to train with you during the visit, she is in desperate need of a new sparring partner and she has heard of your talents as you have heard of hers. Between you and me I believe she wishes to ask you a thousand questions about your family history and your dragons, I fear I may have to apologise in advance.

P.s I hope Vhagar is well, we see you flying in the distance from our towers, Alora loves to point her out every time, I think she’s her favourite.

Braedon.

Aemond could not help the small smile as he read the letter, He hated to admit it but he did miss his friend, it was refreshing to talk with someone that regarded him such a warm affection, it had been hard to not become friends with the giant bearded bull. Alora had been a topic of conversation a few times, of just how special she was to them all, how quickly she picked up the sword, how she beat the heir to Highgarden in a friendly duel. He had to admit he was intrigued to meet her, another red headed giant for the court to gawk at he only hoped she was prepared for it all.

Braedon, Your letter has warmed me as always, I am well, I look forward to seeing you again and hope we can continue our philosophical discussions. Mother made me aware she would be inviting Alora and I am glad to hear she is Excited, However you must prepare her for the courts scrutiny my friend you know as well as I how vicious they can be, especially for a young woman.

As for your request I would be honoured to train with her, I am intrigued to see just how skilled she is. As for the thousand questions I will answer as best I can, I am proud of my family history and am all too happy to share it.

On clear days I too see Duskstones towers in the distance, when I look towards them now I will smile in the knowledge your sister loves to see us fly.

Prince Aemond

He folded the letter and sent the raven off, Aemond was truly looking forward to meeting this Alora.

His smile grew wider looking out of his window to see a clear sky and it did not leave as he gathered his gear and raced towards the dragon pit. He flew high on vhagar gazing out at the unmistakable black forest, the smile grew ever wider as he spotted the towers his friend wrote of in the distance, he’d never admit it but he hoped Alora was smiling and watching him fly like his friends letter had said.

She was.

#aemond targaryen #Aemond x oc #OC #house of dragons #dragons #house of dragons fanfiction #fantaftion #aemond fanfiction #writing #story #plus size #aemond targaryen x plus size #aemond x plus size

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somedayonbroadway · 2 years

Note

*softly* T-Teenage Race with Jack being his dad? That’s beautiful...-

Isn’t in just?

An Angel Come to Save Me Masterlist

Race knew his dad was exhausted. His dad was always exhausted, though Jack tried not to be. Still, Race couldn’t sleep and something about his own room felt dark and cold. He didn’t like this apartment. It was bigger than their old one. In the last apartment, Jack and Race had to sleep in the same room and that was normal. Now he felt so far from his dad, like any creep could climb up through the window and no one would be there to shove him back out of it.

So Race opened the door to his dad’s room. He watched the man’s chest rise and fall in the dark for a minute. It was nice to see Jack sleeping. He always had a smile plastered on his face as he lied to the boy that he could sit up with him all night to help him with his homework. The boy smiled when he saw that Jack was still in his black button down and slacks. His shoes were still on. So Race tilted his head and he quietly walked into the room, slowly sliding Jack’s shoes off. The boy knew how badly Jack’s feet had to hurt. He sighed, peeling off Jack’s socks and tossing them into the hamper. The fourteen year old dug some sweats out of his dad’s drawers. It had been a long week. Jack was working at two different restaurants right now and selling paintings on the side of it while also making time for Race.

So Race leaned over his dad and kissed his head before carefully undressing him and redressing him in some pajamas. Then he took Jack’s laundry and tossed it in the wash, walking back to his dad’s room and taking a bowl of water and a washcloth to the edge of the bed. He gently began to clean the young man’s feet. He knew his relationship with his father was different than most. People told him it was weird that he’d rather hang out with his dad than go to ragging high school parties but Race always shrugged them off. Maybe one day he’d become the rebellious teenage boy that everyone was waiting for him to become. All Race knew was how much Jack did for him. He saw other dads that expected some much from their kids and all Jack ever wanted for him was for him to just be a kid.

Sometimes, Race would sit with his uncle and ask about Jack’s past. It was neither something Davey or Jack was comfortable talking to him about. Race only had bits and pieces of it. Jack was seventeen when Race was born. He came from a bad home he wouldn’t talk about. And he left everything behind for a little baby he didn’t want to give up. The least Race could do was love him for it.

When Jack’s feet were clean, Race rubbed them, knowing they’d be sore in the morning. Jack groaned in his sleep and shifted a bit. Race figured he could turn the light off to make it a bit easier for him to rest. He bit his lip, turned to go back to his dad before he heard the man’s phone ringing. Race dove for the phone, turning it off immediately. But he wasn’t quite fast enough. Jack sighed. “Race?” he called, blinking his eyes open slowly. He smiled at the kid. “Hey, what’re you doin’ in here?”

Race shrugged. “My room’s too big…” he whispered. “You should go back to sleep.”

Jack smiled sadly. “Come here, baby,” he whispered, opening his arms up for the child. So Race smiled and collapsed on the bed with his dad, letting himself be wrapped up in a blanket. “You know you can always wake me up,” Jack assured. “You have a nightmare?”

Race shook his head. “No. Just, I dunno, felt alone for a minute, like you weren’t just down the hall,” he whispered.

His dad ran a hand through his hair. “I’m here. I promise,” he assured. “I would never ever leave you, kiddo.”

With a small nod, Race smiled. “I know. Just wanted to see for myself. I know you’ve been working like crazy. I missed you.”

Jack kissed his son’s head. “How about we take tomorrow off then, huh? Spend the day together. What do you think?”

The boy grinned. “Okay,” he whispered. “I love you, dad,” he said.

Jack smiled tiredly. “Oh, boy, I love you so much,” he whispered back. “Now go to sleep, my angel.”

Race had nothing left to do but listen. He closed his eyes and curled up with his dad, content and happy in that moment. And that was all that mattered.

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captainmaplesblog · 1 year

Text

Life of Lea Volume 1 Chapter 1: Weirdness Day 1

It was a bit after New Year’s in the new year of 2015, and the activities around the house were dull so far. So as usual, Lea lay in her bed as she watched a rerun episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender. She rolls over to lie on her back as her hair moves off her face when she sees her pet, golden retriever, Cloud, come into the room.

“Are you bored too, Cloud?” she asked her dog as if he would ever respond.

He sighs and curls up onto the floor as he laid on the carpet.

“Yea, me too, Cloud,” She said as she stretched on her small childhood bed.

“Happy New Year’s, Lea,” a male voice said from the bedroom entrance as he came into her room.

Lea looked in the door’s direction as she was still laying on her bed upside down.

“Yea, Happy New Year’s to you too, Dad” she replied with an awkward grin.

“Go and tell that to your mom and sister” he exclaims with a stern look.

She sighs as she sits up, “ok.”

Lea took her time as she left her room and went to find her mom in the living room.

“Happy New Year’s Mom,” Lea said as she approached her mom.

Her mom turned to look at her with a smile, “Happy New Year’s to you too.”

Lea nods then went upstairs to her sister’s room as she wanted to get this all over and done. She then knocks on the door to hear a groaning sound from inside the room. Lea’s sister then gets off her bed and opens the door as she glares at Lea.

“What?” she said tiredly as she looked at her.

“Dad told me to tell you um… Happy New Year’s” Lea said awkwardly.

Alyssa nods and then goes back into her room while shutting the door in Lea’s face. She sighs and goes back to her room downstairs. As she walked back, her head was filled with countless thoughts. Lea then sits on her bed and looks at the stars. She closed her eyes as she made a wish on a star.

“I wish I could have a sibling that I could be close with,” Lea said in her mind as she was pretty sure that it wasn't going to become true. Then after that, she lay on her side and fell asleep as she snuggled into her pink bunny.

As the clock struck nine a.m., Lea then woke up to the sound of groaning on the floor.

“Cloud?” she mumbles as she gains consciousness not knowing what was making the groaning sounds.

“……Yea?” a young male voice replies from the floor’s direction.

“Hm… that’s weird… I thought I heard an unfamiliar voice” she mumbles in confusion as she sat up on her bed.

As she opens her eyes, she then sees a fourteen-year-old blonde naked boy sitting on the floor. Lea stiffens and accidentally slips off the edge of her bed like oh my gods that's a human penis. Cloud flinches and goes to her not noticing that he is human now.

“Lea, are you ok?” he asked as he leaned over her.

“Well, it's not every day that your dog turns into a human or I wake up to see a penis first thing in the morning” she replied as she sat up.

Cloud nods in agreement, ignoring the fact that he is naked in front of her. Lea averted her eyes from the sight as she was trying to register what was happening right now.

“So, um let’s get you dressed before leaving my room,” Lea said awkwardly.

“Huh? Why?” He was a bit confused as clothes on a dog didn't make sense to his dog's IQ.

“Oh, uh well you’re a human now so you don’t have fur to cover up your lower half” she explained as she gestures at his bare ass.

“Oh well that explains your reaction,” he replies as he places it over his lap before noticing his human hands as his eyes light up in excitement.

She nods as she gets up and gives him some old clothes from the donation pile that was in her closet. Cloud blinked for a moment then put on the shirt, pants, and undies.

“Uh your shirt is backward” Lea pointed out when Cloud was clothed.

“Oh,” he replies as he takes off his shirt and then puts the shirt on the right way.

“Now we need to find out how we are going to explain this to my parents” she sighs as she anxiously fixes her bedhead.

Cloud nods in agreement and then looks at Lea after he thought about how they could explain to them.

“You could just tell them the truth you know,” he suggested.

“Oh yes like I’d listen to a five-year-old,” she replies sarcastically.

“Uhuh in dog years I’m thirty-five so you have to listen to me” he corrected her.

She rolls her eyes and nods like Uhuh yea sure you're right without actually listening.

“Well let’s get this over with now,” Lea said as she went to her bedroom door.

Cloud gets up and slowly follows Lea to the living room to see her Aunt Nancy and a fourteen-year-old albino with brown eyes.

“Um… hi,” Lea said as she was still registering what was going on today.

“Lea… this is B.J. or your Aunt Nancy’s toy poodle” Mom explained as she noticed Cloud beside her.

“Oh, um ok, and this Cloud, our golden retriever,” she said as she pointed to Cloud awkwardly.

Her mom blinks her eyes a bit as this was another thing for her as well to register.

“Well, this is weird…” Alyssa says as she holds onto her glass of milk.

“Agreed, the dogs have become humans but the question is how?” Aunt Nancy exclaimed as she was sitting beside mom on the couch.

“Well last night before I went to bed, I made a wish to get closer to Alyssa but I guess the star twisted it” Lea explained as her head was like this a lot first thing in the morning.

“So, it’s your fault that this happened,” Alyssa said with a sigh as she was leaning against the wall.

Lea averted her eyes in shame but then Cloud walks over to Alyssa and looks directly into her eyes and says, “Play nice no need to point the finger.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes and took a sip of her glass of milk. Lea looks down as she remains quiet as this feels so awkward and not normal.

“Well now that the drama is established, how about we get down to business and check for anything else that has changed,” B.J. said with utter annoyance in his voice.

“B.J. is right, let’s go out through the garage,” Dad implies as he gets up from his big brown rocking chair.

Lea nods in agreement as she follows the others to the garage down at the end of the hallway.

As they approached the garage, Lea did her best to stay whelmed with all the sudden changes. As for Alyssa, she was feeling the opposite even though her face didn’t show it. Dad presses the button to open up the garage door. As it opened up, Lea and her family then walked out of the garage and onto the driveway cautiously.

At first, everything seemed normal as far as they could all see.

“Hm… looks normal,” Mom said as she stayed with Dad.

“Yea but let me check in with Vanessa to see if anything changed from the side of town,” Lea said as she got her phone out of her pocket.

“Yea… sounds good,” Dad replies as he keeps looking for something unusual.

Lea then calls Vanessa and she immediately picks up.

“What’s up dude?” her voice sounded a bit on edge.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing,” Lea said as she was going to start the topic slowly.

“Oh well let’s see, I ate my breakfast and then my two birds became human,” Vanessa said bluntly.

“Oh? Rocky and Snowball” Lea asked hesitantly.

“No, it was my other two birds that I’ve kept in secret. Of course, I’m talking about Rocky and Snowball!” she said as she raised her voice.

“Ok, I see your point so please try not to freak out” Lea advised.

“Kind of hard to do when Leo is asking them a bunch of questions,” Vanessa explained.

“Fair enough, do you want me to come over?” Lea asked.

“No, meet me at the park ok?” Vanessa suggested.

“Alright I’ll tell my dad” she replied.

“Ok see ya dude,” Vanessa says before hanging up.

After putting her phone back into her pocket, Lea let out a sigh.

“What did she say?” Cloud asked as he looked at her.

“Well her two birds are now human and her brother is asking them a lot of questions so we need to go see them at the Rowits Park” Lea explained.

“Alright while you do that B.J. and I will go check on Mama, Ashley, and Sugar” Aunt Nancy explained.

“Alright please call us if things have changed when you get to Cornea,” Lea’s mom said.

“Right,” Aunt Nancy said as she took B.J. to her car.

“Well time to go meet Vanessa, Leo, Snowball, and Rocky at the park” Lea exclaimed.

"Wait, do I need to have my leash on my neck for this?" Cloud asked curiously.

"Ha-...No your human now it's fine just buckle up in the car" Dad replied as he got the van started.

Dad looks over to Alyssa in curiosity about why she has been quiet since they got outside. Alyssa was busy thinking to herself as she tried to think of the situation in a logical way which was hard since the things that have happened are illogical.

“Are you ok, Alyssa?” Cloud asked her as he pouted at her, obvious to him how she feels by her smell.

Alyssa looks at the person who was once her birthday gift five years ago.

“I’m fine, Cloud,” she said calmly when in her head she was not calm at all.

“Everyone, let's stay calm and get on the road,” Mom said as she helped Cloud into the van and buckled him in for him.

Alyssa could not believe her ears what her mom just said.

“How can we stay calm now that magic is real? There must be a logical and scientific reason for this. I mean even if it is Lea’s fault for wishing for an unrealistic normal relationship, there must be a reason” Alyssa said as she had finally exploded from her calm state.

“Alyssa just please take a deep breath, we will figure this out, ok? No need to overthink things yet” Mom said as she tried to help Alyssa to relax.

“Oh, yea like that would be easy for me to do in this situation” Alyssa complained as she got into the back seat of the van.

“Just try, ok?” Mom said as she sighs.

“Mhm…” Alyssa said unpleased as she rubbed her forehead.

Once everyone got into their white van, they then make their way to Rowits Park. Lea and her family were all quiet for the ride as they weren’t sure what things will be like now that magic was real. After driving for fifteen minutes, they finally arrived at the park. As soon as Dad parked the van, Lea walks over to Vanessa, who was waiting by the swing set.

“Hey,” Lea said as she approached her at the swing set.

“Hi dude” Vanessa replies as she turns to look at her.

Lea looked towards the bench that was located on the grass area and noticed two unfamiliar figures. There was a male with black hair and orange eyes as well as he looked to be 36 years old. Sitting next to him was a small girl with white hair and gray eyes, who looked to be 3 years old.

Lea blinked for a moment then looked at Vanessa, “Is that… Snowball and Rocky?”

Vanessa nods and then scratches behind her head.

“Hm… so do you have any clue on how this started?” Vanessa questioned.

“Eh? Oh uh … well last night I wished upon a star for me to have a better relationship with Alyssa but somehow my wish gave me a new sibling, then thus waking up to a naked human or Cloud I should say” Lea explained.

“Oh, a wish with a twist, but why has it spread?” Vanessa asked.

“I don’t know, if I knew then I would’ve told you” Lea explained.

“Fair enough, so what should we do?” Vanessa asked skeptically.

“Hm… probably ask your birds if they know anything about this phenomenon, right?” Lea asked as she tries to think of something.

“Yea we could do that” Vanessa agreed.

They both then walk over to Rocky and Snowball as they did their best to stay calm. Snowball and Rocky look at them once they heard them coming toward them.

“Yes?” Rocky says as he looks at Lea up and down as this was their first-time meeting.

“We’d like to ask you some questions” Lea exclaims.

“Alright, what are your questions?’ Rocky asks.

“Yes um… well, do you know how or what caused the pets to become human?” Vanessa asks.

“Nope!” Snowball said with excitement.

“Not sure,” Rocky said as he had Snowball sit on his lap.

“Hm…odd” Vanessa mutters softly.

“Maybe I can be of assistance,” a female voice said in the distance.

Lea and Vanessa turn in the direction of where the voice came from.

There was a small fairy floating in the air.

“Who are you?” Lea asked a bit confused as she looks at this being.

“I am Mimi and I am a fairy," Mimi explains.

“Hm… then do you know how the pets became human?” Lea asked but in her head was like oh my gods a real fairy.

“What do you mean? Animals have always been able to turn into humans.” Mimi said confused.

“No, they have never been able to do that…” Vanessa replies puzzled.

“Of course,… did magic not exist in this world recently?” Mimi asks.

“No, it didn’t exist until this morning,” Vanessa says as she leans against the bench.

“Huh? The last time I visited there was magic everywhere” Mimi said a bit surprised.

“When was that?” Lea asked.

“About 19 years ago, I was a child back then” Mimi replied as she became puzzled too.

Lea flinches at her statement as this whole situation was overwhelming.

“Your joking right? There’s not a single piece of evidence of that” Vanessa says a bit shocked as she nearly fell over.

“Hm…now that is odd” Mimi replies as she was confused still.

“How so?” Lea asked.

“Well, there must be some evidence left somewhere if Miss. Mimi said there was magic here” Rocky says as he fixed Snowball’s hair.

“I guess so but it must be impossible to find,” Vanessa exclaims.

“Perhaps we can find it back in my world where magic is more common” Mimi suggested.

“Hm… let’s talk to our family first before heading off” Lea suggested.

“Fair enough,” Mimi says.

Lea and Vanessa walk over to Lea’s parents, Alyssa, and Cloud as Mimi followed them from behind. Mom turns her head in their direction. She looked at Mimi in complete confusion.

“Who’s this?” She asked Lea as she had another mind blow.

“This is-…” Lea gets interrupted as Mimi flies straight to her mom and she looks closely at her face.

“Noemi?” Mimi says as she looks at her like a fan to a role model.

“…Yes?” Mom answered in confusion.

Mimi’s eyes sparkled in absolute joy, “It’s been years since anyone has seen you! So, this is where you’ve been all this time!”

“What are you talking about? I just met you” Lea’s mom became more confused.

Mimi’s smile disappeared just like that after hearing what she just said.

“Huh… so you don’t remember after all,” Mimi says with a pout.

“Whatever you are talking about, I guess I remember it,” she said politely.

Mimi looked at her skeptically before speaking again.

“Well we can talk about this situation more in my dimension, we need to find my wizard friend, Sergean Herrera, so he can open up a big enough portal for all of us” Mimi explains.

“Hm… alright, well lead us to him then,” Vanessa says a bit unsure of what this mysterious wizard man is.

Mimi then leads the way to the light post behind the tennis court. Leaning against the light post was a six-foot blonde in a brown cloak. He turned his head a bit to look at the group of people.

“I see you found them… good let’s get back to our dimension to solve this situation,” he said in a low husky voice.

“Of course, Sergean” Mimi replied.

Lea looks at him in curiosity as she looks him up and down. Sergean noticed her staring at him.

“Something wrong, princess?” he asked her with a smug look.

She shakes her head in disagreement as her head was starting to spin from how overwhelmed she was at this moment. Sergean shrugged and leads the nearest neighborhood before he put his hands in a prayer-like position. He takes a deep breath before opening his hands as a big blue portal appeared in front of them.

“Alright, ladies go in first” Sergean exclaims as he stood beside the portal.

Mimi goes into the portal first, then Lea’s family, Vanessa, Rocky, Snowball, and Cloud. Lea looked at the portal nervously.

“There’s nothing to be scared about, princess” Sergean sighed as Lea hadn’t budged from her spot.

“I know this day has just been overwhelming for me” Lea replied as she slowly made her way to the portal.

“Understandable but I can’t keep this portal open forever, so please hurry up,” he said getting impatient.

“Yea…ok” Lea sighs as she walks into the portal and then Sergean follows her afterward, closing the portal once everyone walked to the other side of the portal, Lea could see a forest covered in snow.

“Welcome to our dimension, everyone, the fairy dimension,” Mimi said with a bright smile on her face as her brown bangs moved over her eyes as she was now 5'4 Ft tall.

#LifeofLea #original story #original characters

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tartt9 · 6 months

Note

she’s not only waking him on his birthday with a kiss—on the lips and maybe even making their way lower—and a bottle of champagne, but the house downstairs has been transformed: decorated with enough balloons and streamers in shades of blue, red and gold to fill several children’s parties! there’s a cake waiting for later too, but keeley lights the candles for him in the morning for his birthday wish to have a chance of coming true today. “ happy birthday, jj ! ” 🥰

Jamie’s wake up isn’t just pleasant; it’s lovely. Birthdays have never been his favourite thing — aging is an inevitability to any footballer, but there’s also the fact that he never thought he’d make it to 26. Looking at himself in the mirror recently has brought plenty of shocks to his system. He’s old enough to have little crinkles by his eyes when he smiles. He’s not stuck in the body of a scared fourteen year old anymore, a boy who thought his life was over. He’s aging, and he’s better now than he was then, and he’s happier now than he was then. He’s fucking lucky.

And Keeley’s making it so much more special, as she always does. He can’t believe his luck, some days. Keeley fucking Jones, his. As he gets downstairs, wrapped in his robe, he’s genuinely taken aback. “When did you have time t’do all this…?” he asks with a laugh of disbelief. Sure, he’d slept hard last night - he’s still not sure how she managed to convince Roy to let him have a morning off of 4 AM training, but he won’t complain. “Jesus…” he laughs, smiling as he reaches for her. “I love you. This’s- this’s great. Thank you, Keeley.”

@bekeeley | jamie’s 26th birthday !!

#bekeeley #answered !#verse: season v !

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redheadjustin · 2 years

Text

Alpha’s little mate

WARNING!!!! this contains mentions of past abuse of a child. I have in no way expreanced abuse. however I am using this as a way to show those have can find love after they are out of the abusive environment. If anyone needs to talk please do so. I am here for you. Oh and some Bella bashing.

Jacob had always had feelings for you. Long before the wolf. Long before his mom died. He had loved you since he met you when you were 2 and he was 4. He had always been protective and you adored it. You relished in the fact that someone loved you enough to deem you worthy of protection. You Y/N L/N were born in Forks Washington on MM/DD/YEAR to Y/F/N and Y/M/N L/N. The first three of your life were perfect. Your mother was a successful lawyer who worked from home. Your father worked at Seattle general hospital and would make the hour commute both ways. They loved the small town fell of Forks but your father was the chief of surgery and didn’t want to downsize to Forks general. Then on your fourth birthday is when your life went to Hell.

You were in the car on your way home from your birthday dinner. Your father and mother were conversating and you were trying your darndest to not fall asleep. Then a truck ran into the car. The next thing you remember was waking up in the arms of one Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He held you as both your parents were in surgery. Your mom made it. Your father however, died on the table. You Became numb for a while. The only one who could get through to you was a six year old Jacob Black. You spent many a day in Jacob’s arms. At home your mother became abusive. You didn’t tell Jacob. you became very good at hiding your bruising and scars.

When Bella moved back to Forks your life went off the rails. Being fourteen you knew you were gay with a giant crush on Jacob. Then Jacob’s fever hit. The next time you saw Jacob imprinted on you and told you everything about the supernatural. Once the mess with the volturi had been dealt with you and Jacob married. And through the years you kept your abuse secret. It’s not that you didn’t want Jacob to know but you had internalized your feelings about your abuse and never told anyone even after Victoria killed your mother. If you had your way Jacob would never find out. But fate had other plans.

Jacob had taken to running a morning patrol with Seth. Relations between the wolves and the Cullens were better but still tense and Bella hates you with a passion. Jacob had started these patrols when a coven of witches moved to Forks. The wolves trusted the Witches even less than the Cullens. You were a wizard and a very powerful one at that so Jacob didn’t see the problem with leaving you alone a bit. After all, you were more than capable of defending yourself. What Jacob didn’t know is that one of the new witches in town has a blood feud with your family and is powerful enough to bypass the protective wards around your home.

When Jacob arrived home he made his way to your shared bedroom. It was about 9:00 A.M. and it wasn’t unusual for you to sleep in. So, as he walked to your side of the bed he didn’t see your sleep pants and boxers on the floor. When he pulled back the covers Jacob was expecting his nineteen year old mate. But, where his mate should be was a five year old boy in your Batman T-shirt. To say Jacob was shocked was a complete and utter understatement. For a second Jacob thought that you somehow had a son. But, one look at your H/L H/C and the pack tattoo told him it was you. It was then at this point Jacob noticed the note one your nightstand. As he picked it up Jacob snarled at the feel of someone else's magic.

Dear mutt,

You by now have no doubt found your mate quite younger than you last saw him. You see mutt, my coven and the L/N’s have a blood feud. And when I found out the last of the L/N’s was in town and the mate to the alpha of the wolf pack? I couldn’t help but have some fun. However, when I managed to enter your mate’s mind I found some things that concerned me. So, I decided to show you those things. You’ll probably try to rip my head off but the spell will wear off tomorrow.

Have fun being a father for a day,

The Nickjewl coven.

Carlisle Cullen was many and had seen many things. He was a doctor, a vampire, a husband, a father and he had seen the worst of humanity and the supernatural. He smiled as Edward feeds Renesmee her breakfast. He was proud of his children. Edward more than any other. He went from believing he was a monster to loving himself more than he had in 109 years of life. Carlisle was happy to see his son doing well and he thanked every God he could think of for his granddaughter. The one thing he was less than pleased with was his daughter in law. Carlisle was pulled out of his thoughts by the door bell. Confused at how someone managed to approach the house without anyone smelling them. As he walked to the door he heard Bella mumble at how her makeup was ruined due to the noise spooking her. Carlisle rolled his eyes opening the door. What met his eyes was something that despite what he has seen that many find to be impossible found himself blinking at the sight before him.

At his front door was Jacob Black and in his arms a little boy no older than five. Jacob looked absolutely panicked with the sleeping boy in his arms. Carlisle ushered the alpha into the living room.

“Carlisle you’ve gotta help me. The new witch coven in town, one of them turned Y/N into a child.” Carlisle was both surprised and pissed. He knew that there was a new coven of witches in Forks. They’d been peaceful…at least to them. however when Y/N was mentioned the head of the coven had a snarl on her face. “Jacob, you mean to tell me that it’s Y/N in your arms?” Carlisle had a special place in the hearts of the Cullens(no matter that they’ve been as still as statues for centuries). Carlisle had been the one to treat you on the day of the car crash.

After that Carlisle had kept tabs on you. So, to hear that the witches turned not only the mate of the alpha wolf but someone with the protection of the Cullens into a child? This was essentially an act of war. “Jacob, how on earth did she get through the wards?” It was inconceivable to him. Y/N was one of if not the most powerful warlocks in history. “Carlisle, they brute forced the wards while Y/N was sleeping and read his mind.” The growl in Jacob’s voice got louder till it was a snarl. While the witches and warlocks were not governed like the vampires or wolves there were unspoken laws. To brute force the wards around a warlock’s home and to read their mind and then to turn them into a child? It was one of if not the most serious crime one could commit.

Carlisle led Jacob and a very groggy Y/N up to his study to check on Y/N’s health. It was then that Bella stormed out of her room and stopped short at seeing Jacob. She was all smiles until she smelled Y/N. Bella hated Y/N. She saw Y/N as stealing Jacob away from her despite the fact that she could not make up her mind between Jacob and Edward and the small detail that Y/N was Jacob’s imprint which he could not help.

“Why’s the whore small?” Bella asked with nothing but loathing and contempt in her eyes. At Jacob’s little growl Carlisle sent Jacob and his little mate into his office.

“Isabella, I know you blame Y/N for losing Jacob. But, That boy has been through more than anyone should. If it weren't for the fact that we are vampires I would have adopted him. I will no longer tolerate your hatred for that sweet boy. Now, why don't you help your daughter get ready for school and send Edward up here?” Carlisle had never spoken to Bella like this before and everyone that had heard it, even Edward, agreed with him. She went downstairs tail tucked between her legs as Carlisle walked into his study.

Carlisle smiled as he saw Jacob bouncing you in his arms pointing to every animal he could see in the forest. Carlisle was one of two people in the Cullen family that knew of your abuse. Edward heard your thoughts when they first moved back to Forks. Edward had a soft spot for you. Unlike when Jacob was with Bella, Jacob and Edward teamed up to keep you safe. So, It was no surprise when he told Carlslie what he saw in your head. Before Carlslie had time to do anything about it Your mother was killed by Victoria and you moved in with Jacob. Carlisle was vaguely aware of Edward standing next to him. Edward heard Carlisle’s thought of “Please go retrieve supplies for Y/N and Jacob.” Edward nodded and left quietly as Carlisle got his supplies ready.

“Y/N? Do you remember me?” he asked as he got ready to check the boy’s heartbeat. Y/N looked at the kind blonde man before him, Jakey seemes to trust him. “Docta Cullen?” Y/N asked, tilting his head. Carlisle gave a small, sad smile. “You were dare da night Daddy died.” What Y/N had said made Jacob do a double take. He knew next to nothing about your past. He just knew you had a connection with the Cullens.

Carlisle nodded with a sad smile. “That’s right, little one. I helped your boo boo’s.” Carlisle said as he ran his hands through your hair. Y/N giggled at the feeling, having missed his daddy doing the same thing daily. Carlisle knew Jacob was confused and sighed in relief as Edward and Emmet walked in with bags of clothes. “Y/N? Would you go with Edward and Emmet so we can get you out of that big shirt?” Carlisle asked as he kneeled in front of Y/N.

You nodded reluctantly and followed Edward to his room. Carlisle turned back to see a confused and almost hurt look on the alpha wolf’s face. It made Carlisle’s nonexistent heart break. But, it made sense that you wouldn’t tell Jacob. You refused treatment when Carlisle first offered. You were a proud person.

“Jacob, Y/N obviously never told you about his past. I will tell you but you cannot be mad or upset at him. He has his own reasons for not telling you And once he’s back to normal he’ll tell you. But, to be able to care for Y/N you need to know, understand?” Jacob growled a bit at the obvious command but nodded; He needed to know about your past. Carlisle took a deep breath as he began to tell your mate about your past.

“Y/N was born and raised here. His mother was a senior partner at the biggest law firm in seattle. She was the perfect mother for a time. Y/N’s father was chief of surgery at Seattle general hospital. He was one of the best to ever pick up a scapael that I met. Y/N’s life was perfect. On his fourth birthday Y/N was in a car accident on the way home from his birthday dinner. He and his family were sent to Forks general for treatment. Y/N was very lucky he only had a very minor concussion and a few cuts. His parents were rushed to surgery. His father died on the table.” The way Carlisle spoke as if it was yesterday made Jacob flinch. To him it was fourteen years ago, but to you it had only been a year.

“Y/M/N was devastated. She had lost the love of her life. She became cold and closed off. She barely flinched at Y/F/N’s funeral. She dove into her work. And into alcohol. She blamed Y/N for Y/F/N’s death and became violent. Y/N kept it quiet. He lost his father and somewhat lost his mother and didn’t want to lose her completely. I only found out when we moved back and Edward heard his thoughts. Even then he protected her. Then Victoria killed his mother.” Carlisle finished and the sight of Jacob sitting on one of the sofas with tears welling up in his eyes was one of the saddest things Carlisle had seen in centuries.

“H-he didn’t tell someone?” Jacob asked, Praying that his mate tried to get help. He knew that his mates' reasons were noble. If he were a born Quileute he would be honored for his loyalty. Jacob was saddened even further when Carlisle shook his head.

Jacob gave you the best day a kid could have. He took you to the beach and swam with you in his wolf form. You were spoiled by both the pack and the Cullens. Seth was happy he wasn’t the youngest at least for a day. Leah, Rosealie, Alice and Esme were all mama bears. Emmet loved teaching you different sports. Jasper….tried and everyone was grateful for that. Edward played all your favorite songs and Billy even let you sit in his lap. You flinched whenever someone hugged you but they all were paistant and understanding.

The next morning you were back to normal. And the look on Jacob’s face told you that he knew about your past. “I’m not mad. I just want to know why you never told anyone ?” The look on your mate’s face hurt. But, you knew a way to make him understand. “If in your car accident, you lost your dad but your mom lived and was changed, would you risk losing her all the way?” your voice was soft. Understanding filtered into Jacob’s eyes. “When you put it that way. No, I wouldn’t. But, I still wish you told me.” Jacob wrapped his arm around you and you leaned into the embrace.

“I love you Y/N Y/L/N. Now how bout we show those witches what happens when you mess with the wolves and Cullens.” Your cackle could be heard from Carlisle’s office and one thought passed through both the pack and the Cullens at the same time. ‘Those witches are so screwed.’

#male!reader #male reader #male reader insert #x male #x male! reader #x male reader #twilight x male reader #jacob black #jacob black x male reader #deaged reader #deaged male reader #bella swan bashing

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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 years

Text

Temporary - Oscar Diaz imagine Part 6

Previously...

"De nada princesa." He winked before stepping out into the yard, a chorus of 'spooky!' coming from the Santos as he closed the door behind him.

A cough from beside me brought me back to earth, turning to see three sets of eyes on me, Ruby and Jamal looking as though I'd killed somebody right then and there and Cesar with a knowing smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked innocently.

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

"What did you do?" Jamal asked, still stood staring at me with wide eyes.

"I have never, ever, seen an actual smile on that guys face." Ruby muttered, watching the front door as though Oscar would magically walk through it any second.

"He's got a point." Cesar added making my eyes move to him. "He's my brother and I've never heard him call anyone 'princesa' before, let alone offer to let a girl stay over with no repayment, if you get what I mean." He smirked as he looked at me, his eyes holding a knowing glint.

"Maybe I just have that effect on people." I shrugged with a slight laugh. "Anyway, what's this about a school dance?" I asked in attempt to change the subject.

"It's on Friday and we're gunna get freaky with it." Jamal sung as he moved his hips in what I think was supposed to be a 'sexy' way.

"Okay, that's gross." I stated pointing at the younger boy as he slowly stopped dancing, crossing his arms before flopping down on the couch besides me.

"What is with you people and throwing water on my flame?" He groaned to himself.

"Jamal, baby, you need to have a flame for someone to put it out." I spoke with false sympathy, laughing as he rolled his eyes and mimicked me.

"How were the school dances in Cali?" Ruby asked leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched me.

"Uh, I didn't actually go to any." I shrugged thinking back to how me and Jess would just take a couple bites down to the beach and drink the night away.

"You didn't go? Like, to any?" Cesar asked with a surprised look on his face.

"Not that I remember no, I used to just go down to the beach and get drunk." I shrugged with a small smile.

"You should come." He continued making me look up to him in slight confusion. "To our dance." He clarified with a smirk.

"Oh, well in case you haven't realised I finished school a couple years ago, and I didn't even go to yours." I smiled at his offer.

"So? We can bring dates from other schools, or not from school at all, this is freeridge, it's a pretty relaxed deal." He shrugged, the smirk still on his face.

"I'm not sure that's going to a school dance with a fourteen year old is such a great idea." I muttered unsurely.

"You're overthinking things here Lia." Jamal said loudly as he pushed himself up and stood next to Cesar and Ruby. "God, you're definitely related." He spoke to himself as he looked up to the ceiling.

"Hey!" Me and Ruby yelled at the same time making Jamal raise his eyebrows in an 'I told you so' style. "But he's right." Ruby shrugged. "It's nothing serious just a dance, besides, I thought you'd be up for some fun after whatever just happened." He continued.

"Ruby's right." Cesar nodded, all three boys stood watching me and waiting for an answer.

"Fine." I sighed in defeat. "You're on." I smiled.

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

"Thank you again." I smiled as Oscar grabbed what he needed from his room before spending the night on the couch.

"Ain't nothin'." He shrugged as he headed towards the door, fresh shirt and shorts in hand.

"I'm going to the school dance with your brother." I blurted out stopping him with his hand on the doorknob. "Oh my god that sounded so much stranger out loud." I groaned as I flopped back onto his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Why?" He snorted as he turned round, dumping his stuff on a set of drawers before he stood at the side of the bed looking down at me in a mix of confusion and amusement.

"They was talking about the dance and I mentioned I'd never been to one, then Cesar offered to take me." I shrugged before sitting up and looking up at him. "It's not that strange right?"

"You're 19 and going to a school dance with my brother." He said matter-of-factly as he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it's so weird." I half groaned, half laughed as I thought about what I had agreed to. "You know you don't have to sleep out there right? I'm more than happy to, this is your bed after all." I mentioned, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

"A princesa should sleep on a bed, not a couch." He gave me a small smile and a shrug.

"And what about a caballero?" I asked making him look at me in confusion. "Well, you were my night in shinning armour." I teased with a smirk, and I'm sure, I saw a hint of pink lining his cheeks before he cleared his throat and it was gone. "Oscar Diaz get your culo into the bed before I tell all your little home boys that you cried at Marley and me." I smirked knowing that seeing Spooky Diaz crying earlier was going to come in handy, not that he'd admit he was.

"A) I wasn't crying, and b) even if I was you wouldn't dare." He muttered narrowing his eyes at me although the small smirk on his face let me know that he wasn't quite 100% serious.

"Try me." I smirked.

I let out a laugh as he sighed loudly throwing his head back before huffing his way over to the opposite side of the bed, pulling his top over his head before throwing himself down dramatically.

"You're such a drama queen, you know that?" I laughed as I lifted the cover and settled down on the pillow.

"Let's remember who's bed this is yeah." He muttered, both of us laid on our backs and watching the plain white roof.

"Was you close to them? Your parents I mean." I whispered remembering Ruby saying that the Diaz brothers had been alone for the majority of Cesar's childhood.

"My mum died when I was younger, couple years after Cesar was born, I don't remember much about her other than she was a jumped up crackhead." He muttered, my eyes widening slightly at how blunt and open he was being about it. "Me and my dad were kinda close when it came to gang business, I guess, but other than that I barely knew the man personally." I felt him shrug from his place besides me. "What about you?" He asked making me scoff quietly.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed or not but me and my mum don't exactly have the greatest relationship. She's constantly on my ass trying to put me down, she tried her hardest to make me into the housewife that she's always been, and that's just not me." I shrugged laughing slightly. "But my dad." I trailled of with a sigh, a small smile on my face. "He's the greatest man I've ever met, I mean sure, he's had some troubles in the past but he's always put me and mum above it all. Even when it costs him more than he has, he always finds a way to make sure we're alright." I smiled at the thought of the hero that was my dad.

"He sounds like a good man." Oscar whispered making me turn to face him only to realise that he was already watching me.

"He is." I whispered with a small smile, my eyes captured by his as the familiar butterflies from earlier suddenly reappeared, his eyes moving between my own and my lips.

Not risking another interruption he quickly leant forwards and captured my lips with his own, moving our lips against each other's slowly, the cliché of butterflies and fireworks never really making much sense to me until this moment, when I felt it all.

I kept my eyes closed as we slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against mine as he released my bottom lip with a slight pop. Taking a deep breath I opened my mouth to speak before I was interrupted by a quick kiss on my lips before he pulled back completely.

"Sorry, I uh, I shouldn't have done that." He said quietly, looking into my eyes briefly before reaching over and playing with the small 'D' pendant that hung around my neck. "I know you got a boyfriend." He muttered scowling, dropping the necklace as though it had burned him.

"It's alright Oscar." I smiled slightly, bringing my hands up to the sides of his face my thumb rubbing his jawline gently. "I'm done with him, enough is enough, right." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"It's okay." I smiled bringing my hands to the sides of his face, my thumb rubbing over his jawline gently. "I'm not with him anymore." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"Good." He smirked, placing his hands on he sides of my face forcing me to let go of his and hold onto his wrists instead. Giving me one more smirk he leaned in placing his lips against mine as his hands disappeared from my face, reaching behind my neck as I felt the weight of the necklace disappear.

Pulling away I couldn't help but laugh as Oscar threw the necklace towards the drawers opposite his bed, the small chain sliding across the surface before dropping down the back. Letting out a chuckle of his own he laid himself down pulling me towards him do that my head was resting on his chest, his arm wrapping around me waist from behind while his other was folded under his head.

"Night Lia." He mumbled, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

"Goodnight Oscar." I whispered into the otherwise silent room, placing a brief kiss to his bare chest before drifting off into the darkness.

——————

"Aye Spooky! Where you at?" Accompanied by a know at the door make me jump the next morning as I was getting myself a glass of water in Oscars kitchen the next morning.

Since I'd always been an early bird, as my mother would put it, it was no surprise that I had woken up before Oscar and Cesar, my head resting on Oscars chest with his arms wrapped around me tightly.

"Spooky man, open up!" A different voice called from outside again accompanied by a know that was more like banging.

Sighing to myself I debated whether to go and wake Oscar or to just answer the door myself, yet another knock on the door answering my question for me.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door to be met with the same Santo that had stepped up to Diego yesterday along with another one that I recognised from the Monse and Cesar fight, the one who tried to step up to me, bitch.

"Where's Spooky?" The bitch asked as he looked me up and down with smirk, only then did I remember that I was in the same clothes I'd slept in, a pair of Oscar's boxers and my tank top, luckily I had remembered to put my bra back on when I'd gotten up this morning.

"How 'bout you show me a little respect before I slam this door in your culo feo." I smiled sarcastically crossing my arms over my chest before the other guy got my attention.

"Hey, uh, Lia right?" He asked with furrowed brows like he was trying to remember. "I was there when your boy came for you." He smiled slightly.

"Right." I nodded. "Thank you for that." I smiled sincerely, genuinely thankful that he had stepped in.

"I'm sad eyes by the way." He smiled as he stuck his hand out for me to shake. "And that's Johnny." He nodded over to his companion.

"Lia." I smiled putting my hand in his and shaking it lightly. "But you already knew that." I laughed.

"Is spooky here or what?" Johnny huffed against the door frame, once again letting his eyes roam my half naked body.

"Spooky's gunna kick the shit outta you if you don't stop looking at her like that." Cesar's voice made me jump as he came to the door with a glass of juice in one hand. "Here." He smiled as he handed me the juice while taking the water from my other hand.

"Oh, thank you C." I smiled as I took a sip. "Oh shit yeah, you guys wanna come in?" I asked quickly remembering the two Santos stood waiting in the doorway.

"Thanks." Sad eyes laughed as he made his way in, fist bumping Cesar on his way.

"Apologise." I said, putting my arm across the doorway before Johnny could walk in, looking up at him with a smirk as he glared down at me. "Apologise for acting like a jackass or you can wait for Spooky out in the yard." I shrugged as he looked at me in disbelief. "Oh, and it rained last night so the couch is slightly damp." I shrugged again as I went to close the door before his hand stopped me.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He smiled sarcastically as he tried to take a step inside.

"You're sorry for what exactly?" I smirked as I stepped in his way again, getting a kick of amusement at the scowl on his face. "Well, I'm waiting." I sighed tapping my invisible watch on my wrist.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass." He groaned rolling his eyes. "Happy?" He sighed as he looked down at the smirk on my face.

"Very." I smiled as I moved out of his way to let him in, closing the door behind him.

"Aye spooky! Where you been man? Damn hyna trying to make me wait inside." Johnny cheered as Oscar appeared from the hallway in nothing but the pair of shorts that he'd slept in last night.

Sure, Oscar Diaz wasn't exactly rocking an eight pack and abs of steal, but my god was he something to look at first thing in the morning. I couldn't help but blush as his eyes landed on me, scanning me up and down quickly before he looked back to Johnny, giving him an uninterested look before shaking his head and heading into the kitchen.

"Lia." He called looking over his shoulder at me. "Come here a second." He added, motioning for me to go over to him.

"What's up?" I asked standing next to him as he opened the fridge only to from when it came up empty.

"I was gunna ask if you wanted anything but I gotta go to the store." He groaned rubbing a hand over his tanned head.

"I can take a walk to that cafe down the street, mama coco's is it?" I asked recalling seeing the small cafe a few times since I'd been back in town.

"Nah." He muttered shaking his head, closing the fridge and heading back into the living room. "Johnny, go down to mamma coco's and grab me a coffee and one of those roll things I like." He told him before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a twenty and throwing it onto the Santos lap.

"Do you normally sleep with cash on you?" I asked amused knowing that he had slept in those very shorts. "My bad." I giggled as he turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Nah, the girl just offered man." Johnny shrugged as he picked up the cash and held it out for me to take.

"I don't care." Oscar muttered as he pushed his outstretched hand away. "What do you want?" He asked looking over his shoulder at me.

"I'll have a tea with two sugars please." I smiled at him. "Oh! And a blueberry muffin!" I added excitedly, smirking when Johnny rolled his eyes.

I laughed as Johnny stood up with a huff before making his way out of the house, with one last laugh I made my way back to Oscars room to put on my clothes from yesterday since the rest of my stuff was back at Ruby's.

"Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" Monse's voice made me jump as I made my way back into the living room that was now occupied by Oscar, Sad eyes and the core 4, plus Olivia. The core 4 was dotted around the room, Sad eyes was laid back on the recliner in the corner while Oscar and Olivia was on the couch, their thighs brushing slightly, a wave of jealousy washing over me before I shook it off, he wasn't mine, I had no right to be jealous over silly little things like that.

"Uh yeah, I haven't been back to Ruby's because, well, ya know." I shrugged slightyl before turning to the blonde girl. "You must be Olivia." I smiled over at the young girl, I'd never met her before, or even heard of her before mum and Geny told me about he staying.

"That's me." She smiled. "You're Lia right?" She said, crossing one leg over the other subconsciously pushing hers and Oscars legs closer together.

"And my date to the dance on Friday." Cesar grinned as he came over to where I was stood and out his arm over my shoulders.

"Strictly friends only, got it." I raised my eyebrows as I looked to him, making him chuckle and nod in agreement.

"Since when are you taking her?" Monse asked confused, ignoring the looks that the rest of the crew was giving her instead opting to keep her attention on me and Cesar.

"Since last night when she told me that she'd never been to her own school dances." He shrugged casually, to him it was no big deal but I could see I'm Monse's eyes that she was hurting.

"You know I don't have to go, not if you two were planning on going together." I said quickly, not looking to be in the middle of a teenage love triangle or whatever this shit was.

"Nah, we're just friends, right monse?" Cesar shrugged as he pulled me close to his side, Monse not missing the gesture.

"Right." She mumbled looking at the ground just as Johnny stormed in and threw a paper bag down onto the ktichen counter before putting the drinks down considerably gentler.

"Oh food!" I grinned as I pulled away from Cesar's hold, jumping up on the counter and opening up the bag, immediately pulling out my blueberry muffin and digging in, sending a muffin filled smile in Johnny's direction. "Gracias." I smirked as he shook his head and leant against the wall.

"Aye where's mine foo'?" Oscar piped up, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched me finish my muffin, throwing the wrapper to the side before taking a sip of my tea.

"I'm the bag." I shrugged with a smirk, watching as his eyes lit up with amusement while Ruby and Jamal watched with horror on their faces.

"Is that right?" He asked smirking at me with an eyebrow raised.

"That's right." I nodded as I blew into the lid of my tea before taking another sip.

"You not gunna bring it here?" He asked tilting his head to the side slightly like a confused puppy.

"I'm sorry, remind me how much you're paying me to be your waitress again?" I asked sarcastically, laughing as Ruby and Jamal's eyes widened that little bit more.

"I'll get it for you Mr Spooky Sir." Jamal said quickly getting up from his seat and rushing towards the bag only for me to grab the bad and hold it behind my back.

"Nu-Uh." I muttered shaking my head with a chuckle. "I'm gunna need the owner of the bag to come and collect it thank you." I smirked looking from Jamal to Oscar who was watching me with an amused smile on his face before he pushed himself to his feet and walked over.

"I'm right here." He smirked making Jamal jump as he appeared behind him. "Can I get my food now?" He asked as Jamal scurried back to his spot making me laugh.

"Of course." I grinned handing the bag over. "What do I get for keeping it safe for you?" I asked quietly, knowing that the other people in the room were watching the interaction.

"I could think of something." He muttered, a smirk on his face as he stepped closer.

"Oh yeah?" I smirked back as he took another step so that we were basically chest to chest only having to look up at him slightly from where I was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah." He mumbled before taking my head in his hands and bringing his lips down on mine in a slow but butterfly filled kiss.

The joint "Oh my god." From Ruby and Jamal making us pull apart slowly with small smiles on both our faces.

#on my block imagines #cesar diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #ruby martinez #monse #spooky diaz #Oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz imagines #Oscar diaz series #on my block series #temporary part six #temporary #temporary series #spooky diaz imagine #spooky diaz imagines

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

edge of the devil’s backbone

pairing: knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader

word count: 4,918

summary: Your knight has sworn to protect you always, even if that means committing a grave sin.

warnings: Smut, cussing, violence, murder, angst with a happy ending.

a/n: Lol I really hope you enjoy this. Bucky is kinda dark but?? Not really??? Also, I suggest listening to Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars while you read this.

It’s midnight when he slips into my room, Selene’s soft light guiding him to the bed where I lay, dozing peacefully amongst my mountain of pillows.

A slumber he hates to disrupt, but knows that he must.

To leave me without a word, without a goodbye and a promise to return one day when he can, would be the utmost betrayal to the delicate heart he holds in his hands.

“Princess,” he whispers. Slinking through the room like a cat, he manages to not make a single noise loud enough to wake me. It is not until his fingers gently brush against my cheek that my eyes flutter open.

“James? What’s going on?” I ask, brows furrowing as I slowly push myself up on my elbows. One hand holds the blanket to my chest, as though it’s anything he hasn’t seen before.

James is… familiar with my nightgowns, to say the least.

“I have to go,” he whispers, his hand shaking as he cups my cheek. “I have to go before they catch me.”

“What?” I lean into his touch instinctively, not even thinking about the strange wetness on his fingers that I feel. “What do you mean? What did you do?” When my eyes adjust to the light, I realize what he means.

James’s white undershirt is stained with blood, the hot liquid smeared across his cheek like it is on mine now.

Letting out a squeak of alarm, I rush to look him over, trying to find any injuries to speak of. “What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I killed him.”

I freeze, my hands pressing against his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Despite the chill of the oncoming winter, he is so, so warm. Even with the knowledge he has given me, there is nothing I want to do more than drag him closer and make him cocoon himself around me to keep the cold away. There is nothing that could ever make me not love him anymore. Even murder. I would still run to his embrace and spend the rest of eternity in his arms.

A foolish dream, considering our stations.

Even though James does love me the way I love him, my father would never allow a union between the two of us. James has been my personal guard since I was young, barely five years old. A peasant boy granted the honor of training to be a knight because he had found me after I had been kidnapped by bandits and kept for a ransom. He’d just been fourteen at the time, and braver and smarter than my father’s entire army.

But no, none of that matters. According to father, princesses must marry princes, who will make good kings.

Anyone with any sense could see that James was worth more than every prince and king put together.

“You killed him? What him?” I ask, rushing to get out of bed to grab a rag. I wet it carefully before moving to his side to gently clean off his face. Even though I want answers, that doesn’t matter as much as getting him presentable again.

But he pushes my hand away, his sea blue eyes glimmering with something that causes a pit to form in my stomach. “My princess… My love… I have to go,” he says, taking my hands in his and squeezing. “I killed Prince Brock, and they will know it was me come morning. I have to go…”

“James, don’t be ridiculous,” I scold as I try to start cleaning him off again, tugging to get his ruined shirt off. “You need to change. We’ll make it so they’ll have no idea it was you.”

James whispers my name, his bloody hand coming up to cup my cheek as though I am made of glass. “They will know it was me, and regardless if they didn’t, the king would still pin it on me… My affection for you is not exactly the world’s best kept secret… And we both know how the maids like to gossip…”

Tears prick my eyes, and I shake my head desperately. “No. No. You cannot leave, I forbid it!” I say, clutching onto him desperately. “James, you cannot leave me. Please, don’t leave me.” My throat is suddenly dry and tight, my heart pounding within my chest so hard that I am sure I will not make it out without a few broken ribs.

A small price to pay if only my knight will stay by my side.

“You have stayed by my side for sixteen years, do not leave me now,” I order, trying to put on my most commanding voice. I have been practicing for when I eventually become queen, but it has never ever worked on my most precious knight.

A choked laugh tears from James’s throat. It’s harsh and broken, a far cry from the usual melody that I chase after. “My love… If I do not leave now, they will have me in the gallows by noon,” he says quietly, his forehead pressing against mine. “Or worse, on the chopping block like a hen ready for the feast.”

I try to push the images from my mind, tears freely flowing down my cheeks. “No. No, they won’t know it was you. Please, don’t leave me… Or at least take me with you… Please…”

“I need you to promise me something, princess,” he says as both his hands hold my face, his calloused thumbs rubbing against the tender skin under my eyes to get rid of wayward tears. “If they catch me… If I am sentenced to death… Do not watch. Do not watch them hang me or draw and quarter me or behead me, whatever it is, I forbid you. Do you hear me? I said, do you hear me?!”

“They can’t kill you, I won’t let them,” I sob, still somehow trying to get him to stay. “I’m the princess, they have to listen to me.”

I have not gone a single day without seeing him in over sixteen years, and I do not plan to now.

But it seems as though there is nothing I can do to stop him.

The silk of my nightgown slides against my skin as I trace his features with my fingers. “Will you come back to me?” I ask desperately after he denies my request another time. “Once it is safe, will you please come back to me? Come home? I cannot live without you, without knowing you will come back to me one day…”

“I will,” he says reassuringly as he takes one of my hands and presses kisses over each fingertip, each neatly trimmed nail, each line in my palm. “I will… I swear to you… But I could not let him live after today in the garden…”

“I am not angry with you,” I whisper reassuringly as I watch him, trying my best to memorize even the smallest of details. “You swore to protect me… from anyone and everyone…”

“And I shall always keep my promise.” He says it with such conviction, with such a fire in his eyes. He always had, which is partially why I am not surprised that he punished the prince for his crimes against me.

When it comes to my safety, my happiness, James is the judge, jury, and executioner.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A growl rumbles in his throat as he pulls me closer, letting his eyes shut as he allows himself the comfort of knowing that Prince Brock had not gotten far enough to truly hurt me, to permanently mark me. “I told him that nobody who touches you without your permission gets to keep their hands. He didn’t believe me until about an hour or so ago,” he grumbles.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t fight the giggle that erupts from my lips. “My hero…,” I murmur as I look up at him. As my eyes meet his, I am reminded that he needs to leave. “I will miss you… Please… Try to find some way to write to me…”

“I will,” James says, his nose nudging against mine. His blue eyes sparkle with tears as he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Steven knows I am leaving… He knows what I have done. He is the one you can trust with your safety now, the only man I trust with your life, and he is outside your door now.” Chapped lips press against my forehead for a lingering moment. “I will write to him, and he will get the letters to you. I swear on my life, princess.”

“Before you go…” I take a deep breath. “Before you go, will you grant me a kiss? Just one…”

It is a request he does not think hard about, grabbing my face and kissing me so gently I think I may wither away from the sheer tenderness. “I love you,” he says, stealing another kiss from my lips, over and over again.

It seems that now that he has started, he cannot stop.

Or will not.

I will not argue either away.

“I love you… I love you more than words can say, James,” I say, fingers tangling in his long hair.

“I must take my leave, my darling… my dearest,” he breathes out. “Before dawn comes and the lark sings…” He stands, his weight disappearing from the bed, and a pang hits my heart. “You must get sleep, my sweet nightingale. Once they realize what has happened and that I have disappeared, they will question you for hours, I am sure, if not all day. But rest well knowing that when you wake, I will be safe and waiting until I may come back for you.”

Tears roll down my cheeks as I hold onto his hand for as long as possible. “I cannot watch you leave,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You don’t have to, my love,” he says soothingly, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Rest… I will be home to you before you can even miss me…”

His hand slips from mine, and I do not hear him leave the room. “James, please don’t leave me!” I say as I open my eyes, thinking he was still there.

But he had slipped through the door without a sound and left me alone in my cold bed.

My dearest,

It has been a month since I left you, and it has been the hardest month of my entire life. I did not have the time to write to you until now because I was unable to get my hands on some parchment and a quill, and I had some trouble finding some place where your father and King Alexander could not reach me.

I cannot risk telling you precisely where I have had the luck to find myself, on the off chance that the letter is intercepted. I cannot see why it would be, as it is carefully hidden with a letter written to Steven, but considering the man that I know your father can be…

Well, I am aware that I shall not need to explain more than that.

What I can tell you is that the sea here is beautiful. The journey here was hard, filled with storms and a tumultuous sea, but it was worth it. Though, it would be much better if you were with me to see it, my love, but you already know that. Seeing the sun rise on the blue water—Water clearer than any I have ever seen before!—made me hopeful for the first time since I left your side. In fact, the dress that you wore to your father’s last birthday feast is the exact shade of the sea here. The soft sand reminds me of the gold trim, the white diamonds embedded in the leather…

Do you see what you have done to me, my love? I miss you so, my heart longing to see you again, to hold you, that I have started to wax poetic about your gowns.

I cannot start on the way the flowers here remind me of the scarlet rouge you use to stain your cheeks and your sweet lips or I shall never stop. But, I have dreamed of your lips each night, of the way that my name falls like a prayer, of the way you told me you love me… I dream of kissing you again. More mornings than not, I wake with tears on my cheeks because of the need I feel to have you close again. I had waited for so many years to finally tell you how I feel, despite knowing the way we both felt it, and the night that I did, I had to leave.

It feels like a tragedy from one of those books you like to read so much.

One of the sailors on the ship guessed that I had left a woman behind that had broken my heart, and he told me that time would heal the gaping wound. It was all I could do to explain to him that I had been the one to break both of our hearts, and that time could do nothing because I am counting the days until I may run to you again.

Time may also do nothing because of the depth of my adoration for you.

I wish that I could tell you where I am so that I may receive a letter in return. I hope you do not regret what happened the night I left, the kiss.

I hope you will still want me, still love me, when I return to you.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been a year since I have seen you last, since I left your side, and I fear I am on the verge of dying if I cannot get a glimpse of your sweet face soon.

Despite writing to you every few weeks, I feel as though there is so much more I can say. Every tiny little thing that occurs during my days, I wish to tell you. I wish to tell you so you do not think that I am at the taverns, flirting with every wench that I set my eyes on. Despite the way they bat their eyes, they can do nothing to even catch a glimpse from me because I am always picturing you.

Have you thought of me since that night? I imagine you have had to, since I am writing to you and I am sure that Steven is getting these to you. He may be a dunce in some things, but he is generally a capable man.

When I saw you in your bed that night, slumbering so peacefully, my first thought was that you looked like an angel. I had been worried that I would be scared to touch you, to even set my eyes upon you, after what I had done. But all I felt was reassurance that I had done the right thing.

I still cannot apologize enough for leaving you alone in that garden for so long. Despite knowing that it technically wasn’t my fault, considering that the king had called for me to discuss the journey back home, I am wracked with guilt. I should have had a servant fetch Steven to take my place while I was gone before I left. But, I was naïve enough to assume that the palace guards that were present in the garden would protect a princess, even from their prince.

Coming back and seeing you so upset, panicking as he gripped your soft, sweet body hard enough to bruise… I had realized when I looked at you that you thought I had abandoned you.

I hope you know that no matter where I am, I have not abandoned you. I could never leave you forever, my dearest.

Your handkerchief no longer smells like you. I had swiped it from your room as I left, needing something to comfort me on my journey. I sleep with it pressed to my nose so that I may see you in my dreams. But now it has lost your scent, and I have been on a search to find the perfume that you wear so that I may buy a bottle and need not worry about it losing your scent again, but alas, I have not been able to come across it.

I fear it would not smell exactly like you anyway, my love, and I would simply be disappointed.

I have pressed a few more flower petals to send to you, but I may not be able to send them again for a while, as winter will be here soon. Even in this warm kingdom, it brings a chill that withers the flowers and crops. Until then, I shall send you as many as possible.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been two years to the day, and I can only pray to whatever gods that I will be able to be with you forever soon.

Did you get my present? I snuck into the palace after deciding that I couldn’t wait much longer to see you. Even if I was not able to speak to you, just seeing your angelic face as you slept gave me a moment of peace. My heavy heart was lightened.

You may need to hide the letters I write you better, it only took me seconds to find your hiding spot. Of course, your father doesn’t know you as well as I do, so he most likely won’t think to check behind your mirror.

The necklace I left on your pillow is inlaid with pure opals and diamonds. I had never heard of opal, I must admit, until I found my way here. It is a great source of pride in this kingdom. I knew the second I saw it that you would look absolutely stunning in it.

Perhaps you will wear it on our wedding day.

Every day I grow fearful that your father will find another suitor for you and force you to marry him before I can make it back to you. I know how adept you are at avoiding the princes and lords that he shoves in your direction, but what can I say? To see you with another man, even if you did not truly wish to be with him, would kill me.

I have been on a ship again for the last few weeks, so unfortunately there is not much to write to you about. But please, know that you are in my thoughts every moment of every day.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

I have just gotten the news of your father’s passing.

I am on my way home to you.

All of my love,

Your James

I sigh as I sit on the throne—my throne. Mere hours before, I had been crowned as the new queen of my kingdom.

The scepter is heavy in my hand, the cold metal seeming to burn my skin. How can I do this on my own?

My father raised me to be a queen, a wife, but not to rule. I was raised to be the queen to a king, to support the man I end up marrying as he rules the kingdom.

But the only man I will ever marry is not here.

Steven is standing beside the throne, his hands clasped behind his back. He has been good to me the last few years, as I have waited desperately for the day that my love, my true knight, will come home to me. “You are troubled,” he says quietly as the both of us watch the nobility dance in magical patterns that draw the eye and lift the spirits. “You should be excited, Your Majesty. Today is a day of great celebration.”

“He isn’t here,” I say. It’s all I need to. His last letter is pressed against my breast, hidden inside my gown. The necklace he left for me is heavy around my neck, the precious jewels glinting in the light. “He said he was coming so where is he?”

The prince that had been seeking my hand before my father died is present, his gaze continuously finding me as he slowly works his way closer. Over the past weeks, I’ve been able to avoid his advances with claims of my grief.

As if I could ever truly grieve a man as cruel as my father.

“It is possible his ship may have been caught in a storm,” Steven comments, trying to soothe my anger. He has seen how unstable my emotions can be when James is not close by. “He will be here. You know he will, my queen.”

I am growing more and more annoyed as I realize that I will soon be expected to join the dancing. But dancing is the last thing I want to do without my love there.

Beside me, Steven tenses, and I watch as his blue eyes flit around the room. “Interesting…,” he says under his breath, almost too low for me to hear.

“What is it?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

“It appears that your latest suitor has disappeared.”

What? Brows furrowing, I look around the room, pointedly searching for Prince Quentin for once. Sure, he is a handsome man, but his blue eyes are forgettable when I compare them to James’s. “Well, perhaps he found some maid to consort with in the gardens,” I say with an eye roll, quickly giving up on the search. “It is not as though he is getting any sort of connection from me. Let him have his fun.”

Steven snorts, his head dipping for a moment. “I think it is time for you to join the dancing,” he says simply, in a tone that makes me wonder what he has up his sleeve.

He knows something that he is not telling me.

“Fine,” I say with a glare in his direction, getting to my feet. I hand my new scepter off to the servant who has immediately rushed to my side, the song currently floating in the air coming to an end. A new one begins as I step into the fray, easily joining the dance.

I am so swept away in the swirling skirts and joyous laughter of the crowd that I do not notice the man that had joined the dancers on the other side.

Passing from partner to partner, I keep a fake smile plastered on my face and absentmindedly nod with everything that is said to me.

“It has been a long time, my love.”

My eyes snap up to focus on the man whose arms I have just been passed into, and my heart stops inside of my chest. “James?” I breathe out. My eyes well up with tears just at the sight of his loving face, his sea blue eyes sparkling in the bright light of the ballroom. “James, is it really you?”

His smile is almost blinding, and I realize that his own eyes are glassy as well. “It is me, my princess. Or should I say, my queen?” Despite the rest of the people around us switching partners, he refuses to let me go, his hand tight on my hip and the other holding my hand firm. “I saw your coronation this morning. You looked radiant. You still do, my dearest…”

I barely notice the world around me as I watch his tongue flick out between his teeth to wet his chapped lips. “You were there?”

“Of course I was,” he chuckles, his large hand squeezing my hip. “Do you really believe that I could ever even risk missing your coronation, sweetheart?” Feeling the crowd’s stares, he leans in a little. “Meet me in the garden in a few moments. By the gazebo.”

Twirling in time with the music, my heart sinks as I am passed to the next partner and the next. My hands are trembling with the fear that he could disappear again. Logically, I know that he won’t. But after spending so many years away from him…

“Go,” Steven says after I finally break away at the end of the dance. “He is waiting for you.”

I don’t need to be told twice. As I make my way to the corridor to slip out to the gardens, I have to reassure several servants that I am alright, but just escaping for a fresh breath of air.

The gazebo he told me to meet him at is further back in the garden, out of view from any of the palace windows. His dark figure stands at one of the railings, looking out at the ocean. The necklace around my neck burns as I take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair is longer than it was when he left, and stubble lines his face.

Did he shave just for me?

I like the thought of him preparing to see me, nervously checking his appearance in the mirror. Perhaps he bought a new jacket and waistcoat in his excitement.

“James?”

He turns to look at me immediately, a smile brightening his face, and I feel as though I am a teenager again, fresh with the feelings of love and adoration. “My dearest…” He does not waste any time as he pulls me close, his lips slotting against mine and his hands roaming over my body. “I have missed you… I have dreamt of you each night.”

And I know that anyone could come out and see us at any moment. And I know that the gossip would run rampant and the possible alliance with Prince Quentin’s kingdom could crumble.

But I do not care.

I have been craving his touch for years, praying to the gods he would come home and hold me just as he is doing now.

“I need you. I need you, James,” I say as my hands tug at his jacket and push it off his shoulders, going for his waistcoat next.

Thankfully, he does not argue. “You’ve dreamt of this as much as me,�� he says in relief as he unties my corset enough to tug it down to reveal my chest to him. James chuckles as he catches his letter as it falls. “You kept this so close to your heart, my love.” Seeing the letter only makes him more ravenous, his lips attaching to my neck as he works his breeches down.

Pain runs through me as he sits and pulls me on top of him, finally joining our bodies together, but I don’t take the time to care. The glory of finally being with him is far greater than any pain I could ever feel.

We are so tangled that you cannot tell where one of us ends and the other begins as he moves me, taking his pleasure and granting me my own.

“You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at my neck. “That sorry excuse for a prince thought he could touch you. Thought he would ever be worthy enough for you.”

It suddenly occurs to me that his arrival and Prince Quentin’s disappearance were correlated, and I see a drop of blood on his white undershirt.

It tears a moan from my throat.

The knowledge that a man as powerful, as strong, as my knight would protect me in such a dangerous manner, so desperately, sends a jolt down my spine. The fact that he is willing to go to the ends of the earth, to commit such a sin…

It is delicious.

The dagger he must have used glints in the low light of the moon as it rests on the stone floor, having fallen from his breeches when they’d been torn down. The sharp edge is crusted with a dark red, almost brown substance.

“I am all yours. I have always been yours, my knight,” I say as my fingers tangle in his hair and pull, our lips locking. “I love you. I love you so. I cannot breathe without you.”

“I am never leaving you again. Never.” His teeth grab onto my lower lip as he picks up the pace, grinning as he glances down to watch my body. “Fuck… It’s even better than I dreamed of. I love you so much, my queen.”

My release is fast and hard, knocking the breath out of my lungs as I cling to him, my nails scratching at his back and creating a rip in his shirt. “JAMES!”

James is quick to follow, his hips jerking as he reaches his peak and spills inside of me. “Perhaps you will become heavy with my child,” he whispers as he steals another kiss, tenderly fixing my dress before helping me stand and dressing himself. “Perhaps we will have a little prince or princess on the way.”

“Well…” A smile spreads over my face as I cup his cheeks, running my fingers over the dark stubble. He would look so delectable with a beard. “In case you have not been informed, I have been made queen… And I decree that you are to be my king.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest as he pulls me close once more, dipping me low and kissing me something fierce. “Your wish is my command, my dearest.”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes royalty au

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atths--twice · 3 years

Text

Break in the Weather

As they wait for the ability to fly out of Kansas, Mulder and Scully decide to go to a special feature at the drive-in. Conversations lead to confessions which leads to more…tagging @fictober-event and @today-in-fic

Fictober Day 19

Word Count: 3490

Rated: M

Prompt: Why are we whispering? + an ask for a drive-in MSR story from @exposure2025

Fandom: The X-Files

Kroner, Kansas Movie View Drive-in August 1999

“Here’s your change, sir,” the girl at the concession stand said, handing Mulder his money.

“Oh, thanks,” he replied, taking it and dropping it into his pocket.

“Sure you don’t want a carrier for all of this?” she asked and he shook his head.

“Nah. That’s one of the bonuses to this jacket: lots of pockets.” He smiled and slipped the bottles of water into them, along with the pack of licorice and box of Junior Mints, before he picked up the two containers of popcorn and walked out of the snack shack.

He passed children running around in the fading sunlight, yelling to one another and laughing. Parents were paying them no mind, no doubt happy for the rain having finally let up, though the town had desperately needed it. There were still large puddles drying, which Mulder expertly maneuvered around, smiling at the children who darted past him on their way to the playground, hoping for a turn on one of the three squeaky swings.

The wind picked up, an odd cool wind that belied the area and time of year. He smiled as he took a large step over a puddle and thought of Holman. He must be feeling awfully good tonight to be sending out this cool August weather.

“Oh,” he muttered to himself, as he thought exactly what that might mean, making a face as he remembered Sheila’s lips on his own. “Well, he obviously doesn’t mind it.” With a shudder, that waxy taste and feel of her lipstick not disappearing from his memory anytime soon, he continued on toward the car a few rows ahead.

When he got close, he saw Scully pacing off to the side, away from their car, talking on her cell phone. Her head dropped back and she paused in her pacing, a hand on her lower back. She shook her head and then resumed pacing.

She was wearing jeans, something he rarely saw her wear, and he had a hard time not staring at her ass. Not gazing as Holman said, because he knew he did not do that like some lovesick puppy, but actually staring as he watched the way her hips swayed when she walked. It was almost hypnotic.

Stopping again, her back to him, she lifted the back of her sweater slightly and scratched above the waistline of her jeans. A strip of her skin showed and he let out a deep breath with a shake of his head.

They had spent the last two nights in the same bed, one in which they had ended up entwined. He had woken up first, her leg between his and just beneath his growing erection, his fingers under her shirt and running softly across that particular spot on her back. Her breathing had been deep and peaceful as his brain registered the position they were in, demanding he pull back and disentangle from her. As he rose from the bed, he had committed the softness of her skin to his memory as he walked into the bathroom.

But god, he had wanted to stay in that bed with her. Wanted to wake up with her, kiss her good morning, ease his ache for her with her and not quickly, silently, and on his own, as he had done in the shower.

He could not think that way however, not unless he wanted to allow his body to betray him, embarrassing him with a public boner like he was a fourteen-year-old boy. He shook his head as she dropped her sweater and turned around, slipping her phone into her pocket.

“Hey,” he said, meeting her halfway. She sighed and smiled at the popcorn he carried.

“Two, huh?”

“Yeah, two. You insisting on eating popcorn with no butter is just wrong. I can’t abide it and I will not eat subpar snacks while at the drive-in.” She laughed and licked her lips as she crossed her arms.

God, he wanted to kiss her, to try it sometime, as Holman had said. Take that chance and kiss her as he had wanted to months ago… without a virus carrying bee to interrupt and threaten her life.

Instead, he smiled as he handed her her container of popcorn and turned to head back to the car.

“Was that Skinner on the phone?”

“Yeah,” she said, eating a few pieces of popcorn. “I told him we’d be back tomorrow afternoon, weather permitting of course, and if the plane was able to leave the runway.”

“Okay. Good.”

“And then my damn brother called.”

“Ohhh… fun.”

“Yeah. He’s in town, something I don’t remember hearing about. He’s leaving tomorrow and wanted to know if he could expect to see me this time,” she said with a sigh and he smiled. “He acts as though his visits are as important as the Pope coming over and they are not.”

He laughed as they opened the doors and got into the car, getting comfortable and settled before the movie began. Handing her the bottles of water, he set his popcorn on the dashboard and took out the candies, laying them beside it.

“Mm, licorice,” she said, smiling as she set the waters in the cup holders and picked up the pack, ripping it open with her teeth.

“Don’t eat all of them,” he warned. “They’re to share.”

“How dare you suggest that I would eat all of them on my own.”

“Not suggesting, reminding. As in reminding you to not eat all of the snacks this time.”

“There were only a few M&M’s left when I ate them.”

“More than a handful?” he asked pointedly.

“Whose hand?”

“What?” he asked with a slight frown.

“Well,” she said, setting the licorice down and taking his hand, comparing it to hers. “A handful of them in your hand would be more than enough to share. In mine, however, well…” She gestured between them and he laughed softly with a nod as she smiled. Taking out a piece of licorice and laying it in his hand, she gave him a look and he smiled.

“Thank you so much for sharing,” he deadpanned, taking a bite of the licorice.

“You’re absolutely welcome,” she said with fake sweetness, leaning back and staring at the blank screen ahead of them, chewing on her own piece of licorice.

Music suddenly began to play from the box hanging from the driver's window beside his head, startling him and causing Scully to laugh.

“It’s too bad we aren’t in a truck or something with a larger backseat,” she said, adjusting her seat and sitting cross legged.

“To watch the movie more comfortably or… did you have other ideas? Because…” He looked over his shoulder at the backseat and then back at her. “There’s quite a bit of room back there.” She made a face and then smiled.

“This time, I meant to watch the movie.”

“This time? Have we been to a drive-in together before? Or in the backseat together? Did I somehow forget?”

“Depends on your definition of in the backseat, I suppose,” she replied, removing another piece of licorice and taking a bite, looking at him with a smirk. “We’ve been in the backseat of a car together many times.”

“But not “in” the backseat,” he said, making air quotes to distinguish the difference. She smiled, raising her eyebrows, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her again, tasting the sweet licorice on her lips.

“I was just thinking about when I was younger and we would go in my dad’s old truck. All of us riding in the bed, no seatbelts, laughing as the sun was going down,” she said, with a far off smile. “We had blankets, sleeping bags, pillows… us kids all ready to lay down squished together to watch a movie.”

“And your parents? What were they doing?”

“Oh, they were hardcore making out in the cab.”

“What?!”

“Oh yeah, the entire movie.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” she said, laughing as she shoved at him. “They sat beside the truck in lawn chairs, drinking beer and watching or talking.”

“Well, at least they were responsible,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“They were. It was just a couple of beers,” she said, smiling that same far off smile as she shook her head. “The smell of beer always makes me think of those nights. Well, that and Bobby Rylan, the first boy I ever kissed. His sister drove us and she was drinking beer as we watched the movie, but had left the car to use the bathroom. We were in the backseat and he kissed me before she came back. It was quick and I remember the smell of the beer from the front seat more than the actual kiss.”

“So not a good kiss then?”

“Eh... I was twelve, he was thirteen. I was over the moon about it at the time of course, but it wasn’t really much of a kiss, being as we were so young. We held hands through the majority of the movie, which I remember more. He had nice hands, and I always notice hands, even at that age.

He glanced at his own hands, wondering what she thought of his, if she found them to be nice. Letting out a sigh, she took out a piece of licorice and offered it to him.

“Thanks,” he whispered and she looked at him.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back, her eyes dropping briefly to his lips.

“Why are we whispering?” he asked in a whisper as he looked around and she laughed.

“I don’t know, you started it,” she whispered back and as he made to respond, the screen flashed to life and the speaker crackled loudly, causing them both to jump. People around them began cheering and they smiled at one another before turning their attention to the screen.

There were not any previews as the movie being shown was not a new one, but a special feature of The Princess Bride. As it started, Mulder watched Scully out of the corner of his eye.

He watched her breathing, the way every few quiet breaths she would take a deep louder one. Watched how she rubbed her top thumb over her clasped hands. He could smell her shampoo, the one she always used, and he had borrowed yesterday when his own ran out, having not planned accordingly. The scent of popcorn and licorice was also heavy in the air, and he smiled.

He thought of his own nights at drive-ins, with friends or on his own, sneaking in and sitting off to the side, not able to hear everything, but needing to get away from home for a bit. He remembered bringing Sissy Powell to a movie one night, nervous the entire time, knowing what he would have wanted, but not sure what she expected. They had kissed, he had actually gotten to second base, somewhat, when she had stopped him, telling him her blouse was new and she did not want to crease it. It had been enough for him at that moment and he had grinned for the rest of the evening.

“What are you smiling about?” Scully asked and he shook his head as he looked at her.

“What?”

“You’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat,” she said with a grin of her own.

“Am I? I didn’t realize.”

“Thinking about your own memories?”

“You could say that,” he said, smiling at her.

“Backseat memories?” she teased, but he saw something in her eyes that caused him to pause and think of his answer.

“Uhhh, not exactly. More like… backseat happenings in the front seat.”

“I see,” she said, looking at the screen before looking back at him. “Good memories?”

“Mmm… decent. Especially to a seventeen-year-old boy.”

“Hmm…” she hummed with a smile. “Understood.”

Looking back at the screen, she sighed and he watched her again. She seemed to hold herself more rigid now, her breathing measured. He wondered what she was thinking about and he desperately wanted to ask her, but knew he would not.

Westley and Buttercup were now saying goodbye and he remembered the first time he and Scully had watched this movie together. He thought of Scully’s analogy about Westley leaving being unnecessary as they had all they needed up on that hill away from the rest of the world.

“You were right, you know.” he said softly and she turned her head to look at him.

“About what?”

“Them,” he said, gesturing to the screen with his chin. “He didn’t need to leave.”

“No, he didn’t. It still annoys me, no matter how many times I see it. I know that it’s the plot of the movie, but come on. He loves her, always has, tells her every day in his unique way. She loves him too, just more… unsure or afraid to show it, keeping her heart a little closer, afraid of being hurt.”

“Hmm…” he hummed, digesting her words as he watched the screen, witnessing Buttercup’s sadness when she learned Westley had died. “If only he’d stayed…”

If only…

If only Holman had spoken to Sheila sooner, he thought. So much suffering and sadness could have been avoided.

He looked at Scully as she watched the movie and he shook his head slightly.

If only there hadn’t been that fucking bee. What would have happened? he wondered. Where would we be right now? Still here, tiptoeing around this thing between us, or facing it head on and admitting how we feel for one another?

Letting out a sigh, he shook his head again, and clenched his jaw as he looked back at the screen. He had pushed Holman to take that chance, but there he sat: a coward unable to speak his mind.

“It can be scary,” Scully said quietly and he looked at her again, wondering if she could read his thoughts. “No matter the situation, the time in which a story is set… putting feelings into words… stating how you feel…” She laughed softly and shook her head. “Look at Holman, keeping his feelings locked up so tightly, he caused a tornado, ice hearts to fall from the sky, a flood of rain when his heart was breaking.” She looked at him, smiling almost sadly.

“If it didn’t almost kill me, I’d say it was quite romantic,” he said with a soft smile.

“A cow flying through the air, nearly crushing you, killing the cow… that was romantic?” She raised an eyebrow and he chuckled softly.

“He was, is, a man in love. Seeing his chance with the woman he always wanted being threatened once again by the type of man he had been envious of his whole life…” He shrugged and she frowned with a smile.

“What type of man did he mean?”

“It’s what he said to me- that men like me he was always jealous of, but…” He stopped, remembering where the conversation had led and he shook his head.

“Men like you?” she asked quietly and she turned her body to face him more.

“Yeeeah,” he said, his heart racing as he realized he had really stepped in it now.

“What kind of man did he mean?”

“I don’t know. It was just what he said.”

“What else did he say?”

A beat. A pause. Her eyes holding his, open and waiting. Time to be honest. In a rental car, at a drive-in, as a movie’s dialogue played through a tinny speaker box. No time like the present to be brave.

“He said based on my physical bearing,” he began and she gave him a half smile. “Based on that, he thought I would be more experienced.”

“More experienced,” she said flatly.

“Mmhmm. That I… I spend every day with a beautiful woman, no, a beautiful, enchanting woman and yet…” He spread his hands out, smiling awkwardly with a shrug.

“Yet, what?”

“Scully… you know what,” he sighed, giving her a look.

“Yet we aren’t lovers,” she said softly and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…” she hummed, looking back at the screen and he stared at her profile, the slope of her neck. “Sheila said something similar.”

“What did you tell her?” he asked, watching her closely. She smiled and glanced down at her lap.

“She said she’d never envisioned Holman in that light. Never thought of him as a potential mate. He was her best friend, someone she loved, but not in that way.”

“And what did you say?” he asked again, swallowing hard. She looked up and let out a breath, her eyes traveling across his face, a small smile on her face.

“I said the best relationships are rooted in friendship. That… something from the day before changes and the person you love as your friend… is suddenly the only person you could see yourself with… see yourself loving. Like a switch was flicked and now it’s different. The same, but different.” She stared at him and he drew in a breath, aching to touch her, to kiss her. To show her how he felt.

“And… what did she say?”

“Well, then the storm drains started filling up and we had to leave the bathroom.” She smiled, though her eyes seemed sad, making light of a serious moment. She started to turn back to face the screen and he stopped her with a hand on her knee, knowing if she did, they would not discuss this topic again.

Not them. Not the ones who pushed away and ignored how they felt.

She stared at him, halting her movements and waiting for him to speak, but words were not coming. His thumb stroked her knee as his eyes dropped to her lips, then raised back to her eyes. She smiled slightly and he leaned forward, taking a deep breath.

He pressed his lips to hers and he felt her exhale through her nose. His grip on her knee tightened and her mouth opened slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his tongue touching her bottom lip, before sliding into her mouth, her arms going around his neck and pulling him closer.

She moaned into his mouth and his body responded to the sound, his hand sliding up her leg to grip her thigh. Moaning again, she pulled back and stared at him, his fingers opening and closing on her leg. Her eyes were dark and she was breathing hard, her nails scratching at the back of his neck, causing him to shiver.

“Are you interested in staying for the movie?”

“Hell no,” he breathed and she laughed, rising up to kiss him again, her hands moving to cradle his face, thumbs running across his lips as she smiled.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered and he nodded, kissing her once more, staring at her as he shook his head.

______________________

Sheets were tangled, pillows on the floor, as he kissed her shoulder, down her spine and back up to her neck, as she laughed softly. She turned her head to face him and smiled as she moved to lie on her side. His eyes traveled down her naked body and he let out a deep breath.

“You are so beautiful. Every inch of you.” He pulled her toward him, a hand on her hip, his thumb stroking a freckle he had discovered as he had mapped out her body with his eyes, lips, tongue, and fingers.

“You’re just saying that because I’m naked and made you scream my name a few minutes ago,” she teased, kissing under his chin, sucking the point of it into her mouth, before burrowing into his embrace.

“True, but I already thought that before I made you scream my name.”

“Hmm,” she hummed as she laughed and he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

“The same, but different,” he mused, his fingers now running up and down the skin that had previously aroused him and forced him to leave the bed. His ache for her had now been fulfilled together.

Twice.

“Yeah, this is very different.” She laughed again, kissing his neck and slowly raking her nails down his chest to his navel, causing his stomach to twitch, his mind willing but his body needing time to recover.

The abnormally cool August breeze blew in through the open window and Mulder smiled, appreciating the weather more than ever.

“You should try it sometime,” he whispered, with a soft laugh, and a shake of his head.

“Aren’t you glad you took that advice?” Scully teased and his hand slid down to her ass, pulling her flush against him, her gasp and deep exhale close to his ear the most erotic sound he had ever heard.

“Best advice I could have ever received,” he breathed and she moaned as his leg caressed hers and she peppered his throat with the softest of kisses.

#Fictober21 #The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Post Rain King #Drive-in #Movie Date #Popcorn and Snacks #Conversations #Memories #Relationship Discussions #Confessions #Kissing #First Time #Happy #Love #Switch Flicked

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lexosaurus · 3 years

Text

Going Angst Week 2021: Birth

I wrote a short five part fic for this year’s Going Angst Week! Fair warning as the event suggests, no one in this fic will make it out on top.

Chapter One: Birth

---

“Don’t think of it as a death, think of it as a sort of rebirth.”

That’s what Vlad had told him anyhow, after he discovered who—or rather what—Danny was at their college reunion.

“Who were you before this? A nobody, right? Just some little hormonal fourteen year old from the weirdo family, unpopular and bullied. No real hobbies or activities to speak of, aside from…” Vlad’s red eyes pierced down at him. “Video games, am I correct?”

Danny diverted his gaze to the floor. Vlad’s aura only increased in amusement.

“But now,” the ghost continued. “Now you’re something else. Something different, more powerful. The world is your oyster, and all you have to do is reach down and take it.”

“I don’t know,” Danny finally spoke up. He had been hoping that speaking to the older halfa would begin to patch things up between them, but so far every word out of Vlad’s mouth seemed coated in poison.

He knew that deep down he shouldn’t trust a damn word Plasmius said, but Vlad was the only person in the world who he could relate to. And according to the Vlad, there was no one else like them in the Ghost Zone either.

“What is there to be afraid of, Little Badger? You’re a half ghost, you can do whatever it is that you want and nobody, nobody can stop you.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid.” Lies, lies, all lies. “It just doesn’t seem right, is all.”

Plasmius leaned down, forcing Danny’s eyes to meet his. He grinned, bearing his fangs at the boy, as if he could see through all the fear that Danny was desperate to mask.

“Oh Daniel,” Vlad said. “Your parents will never accept you. No good you do in your ghost form could ever convince them that ghosts aren’t all evil, that some are good, that you are good. Don’t you see?”

“No, you’re wrong. My parents will accept me. I just have to—”

“Oh, will they?” Vlad laughed. “Your parents? The same ones who’ve dedicated their careers, their lives to developing ecto-weaponry meant to kill our kind? The people who have written countless academic papers as to the dangers of ecto-life on Earth?”

“If I can show them that we’re not all bad, then maybe they’ll see.”

“Ah, so I bet that explains why you haven’t told them about what really happened in the lab, right? You just wanted to wait for the ‘right time’ to tell them. Foolish boy, don’t you know?” Vlad’s cocky tone died down, as did the power of his aura. In the first moment of sincerity Danny had witnessed from the older man, he turned to Danny and warned, “Your parents are too blinded by their ignorance to ever see the truth.”

---

Danny had been alone the day of the accident. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he strapped on the hazmat suit (not before ripping off the Jack sticker), why he stepped in the portal, why he tried to figure out how to turn it on. Was it boredom? Teenage rebellion? Curiosity?

But delving into his reasoning was too little too late. Because the moment he tripped over the wire and hit the misplaced power switch, his life ended.

Literally.

Dying hurt. It was terrifying, waking up as something else entirely, and passing out all over again.

At first, he could almost pretend that he was okay. But then he woke up the next morning and felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

And then he fell through his bed, hitting the wood floor below his bed frame.

And then he dragged himself out and saw the extensive scarring on his arm.

And then he knew. That what had happened in the lab wasn’t just a fluke, that whatever the portal did had changed him forever.

That he wasn’t okay.

Still, he tried to carry on as normal. Eventually, the lightning scars snaking across his arm faded (even though they remained when he transformed), and the aching of his muscles subsided (but the coolness in his chest never went away), and his relative anonymity at his school meant that people hardly noticed a change in him (even though his two best friends seemed to hover more now than before).

Everything was going to be normal. Even if he wasn’t okay anymore. Even if he wasn’t human, even if he was...some monster.

What even was he?

“Danny?” Sam poked his shoulder. “Hey, space case? You haven’t touched your food. Are you okay?”

The world snapped into focus, and he realized that he was in the cafeteria at school with his untouched lunch tray splayed out in front of him. He couldn’t even remember getting out of bed this morning, much less making it all the way till lunch.

Regardless, he picked the cardboard excuse for pizza from his tray and took a bite, chewing slowly, and tried not to choke as he forced the food down his parched throat.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He’d been saying that a lot lately.

“We’ve been trying not to pry, but…” Sam looked helplessly at Tucker. “Danny, is...is something going on with you? You’ve just seemed off lately.”

“No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You sure dude?” Tucker asked.

Danny set his school-issued pizza back down on his tray. “Guys, seriously. I’m your best friend. If anything happened, I promise you’d be the first to know. I’ve just been stressed about school, it’s nothing.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, evidently not looking too convinced. Regardless, Sam gave him her best fake smile and a, “If you say so. Just know we’re here if you wanna talk.”

But he didn’t want to talk. They were human, he...wasn’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’d think he was a freak, they’d stop talking to him, they’d tell Jazz who would tell his parents who would kill him trying to save him.

No one could help him.

They finished lunch in silence, and then it was back to class where Danny managed to fall out of his chair twice and drop his pencil too many times to count. In biology class a glass microscope plate flew past his fingers, shattering against the tiled floor, and in English class when Lancer handed him papers to pass out he dropped those too, sending them scattered along the ground.

He saw the way Lancer peered at him as he stumbled to the ground, hands shaking as he desperately tried to grab the papers while everyone laughed at him. He felt cold—he was always cold since the accident—and he was sure that he looked just as much of a mess as he felt.

Mr. Lancer sent him down to the nurses office after that.

But he couldn’t go to the nurse because his heart rate was slower than a human’s and he didn’t need to breathe as much and he was so cold.

And he was fine.

So he took the hall pass and hid in the bathroom for the rest of the class period.

“Think of it as a rebirth,” Vlad had told him.

Except Vlad was wrong. Danny wasn’t stronger now, he wasn’t more powerful. In fact, Danny Fenton had never felt more powerless, lost, and alone in his entire life.

If this was the start of a new life, then he was terrified to see what would follow.

---

next chapter>

#danny phantom #going angst week 2021 #birth #the life cycle of a half ghost #phicc #my writing

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royallyjoon · 3 years

Text

nephilim (quatre)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violence, manipulation

undoubtedly, the boys have opened their arms and hearts to you. but have you done the same? life has only gotten more stressful for you, and the closer you find yourself getting to them, the more you feel as though you are changing, and the more you push yourself away. you refuse to break. never forget: one’s hubris could be their hamartia. forge your lonely path with conviction. after all, it may not be yours for much longer. the victor or the fallen--exactly who is it that stands to lose the most?

——————————————————————

For a long time now, you had feared that your relatively peaceful days in Ichabod were coming to an end, and recent events only further proved your point.

Mana’s forewarning carried its weight well, as Aemilia seemed dead set on making an enemy of you. She went from hardly acknowledging your existence to cursing it.

She would never lift a finger to do her dirty work, oh no, for how could the delicate Augustus princess stoop so low as to take the garbage out herself?

No, she used her puppets Brooklyn, Constance, and whoever else she managed to sink her claws into in the student body to torment you.

They tripped you in the halls, stole your belongings, and essentially made it difficult for you to bleed into the background like you used to.

Luckily for you, you happened to gain some formidable allies.

Mana was there to tell Aemilia’s lackeys to back down, and they wouldn’t dare approach you with Jimin around. And he happened to be around more often than not, strangely enough.

The three of you managed to form a strange alliance during this time. Your best friend was still extremely cautious around Jimin and his siblings, as were you, but they had gotten somewhat closer, which made you glad. You didn’t want to be the bridge between them, as you thought that would be tiring and more than you could already handle.

Still, the two were only human. They wouldn’t always be there to defend you. Nevertheless, you were quite capable of defending yourself.

You didn’t give Aemilia the satisfaction of breaking under her pressure. You held your head up high despite the amounts of rumors flying around the school about you, even if they made you want to split your own skull open.

The student body, in part, was divided. Half of them wanted nothing to do with you, considering how you were associated with both the Augustuses and the Kims. They were wary of your actions, claiming you were steps away from meeting Wylynne herself.

The other half whispered about how tired they were of Aemilia’s antics and tantrums, given that this was not the first time she had behaved like this toward another student.

Two weeks passed by, and neither you nor Aemilia was giving in. The strawberry blonde was beside herself, and so were her poor friends. Every day that she failed to teach you a lesson was another day she went raving mad in private.

Soon enough, her patience would snap. She would find herself going over the tipping point, but the question remains: Who would stand to lose the most when she got there?

It was another stressful day for you at Ichabod Academy as you sat in your lively homeroom.

Mana rested on your desk, laying their head on their arms. You figured they would be uncomfortable, considering the way their body was twisted around in their seat, but your friend was drifting off without a care in the world.

You slumped in your chair, looking every bit as done with life as you had recently felt. There was so much you had to be on the lookout for, and today was no different.

You blinked tiredly and looked at your best friend. You then decided to lay your head on top of Mana’s, who did nothing more than let out a grunt, and closed your eyes in an attempt to get some rest as well.

When Jimin returned from the restroom, he internally cooed at the sight.

Your head started rocking back and forth as it tilted dangerously on top of Mana’s. Ensuring he wouldn’t wake you, the boy sat you up and leaned your body on him so that your head was resting on his shoulder.

He smiled down at you in relief. Your classmates took note of his treatment and started to whisper about the two of you, but one look from him and the room quieted.

Unfortunately for you, the peace was short lived. There was a loud crackling over the intercom that shook both you and Mana awake.

They sat up and glared at their surroundings in annoyance. You opened your eyes in a flash, desperately hoping it wasn’t your first period teacher.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Diivi isn’t here yet.” Jimin reassured you. “It was just the intercom.”

You nodded in thanks and covered your yawn with the back of your hand.

There was some more crackling and finally, your principal began to speak.

“Good afternoon, students. I apologize for the interruption, but this is urgent. Constance Pierre is to report to the principal’s office immediately. I repeat, Constance Pierre to the principal’s office. Thank you for your attention, and please continue about your day.”

You squinted in confusion.

Constance has never been called to the principal’s office before in her entire life. Even when she was causing trouble for you and other students, the teachers paid no mind and others were too afraid to report her. What could have happened?

The sound of feet pounding against the floor got closer and closer until you could hear it outside your classroom door. A blonde blur passed the room, disappearing as fast as it had come.

“Pierre...why does that name sound familiar?” You murmured to yourself.

“It’s the name of the freshman that went missing.” Mana said as they stretched. “Chance Pierre, I think.”

Your eyes widened in understanding.

“He was-is Constance’s little brother.” They corrected their statement.

Jimin glanced at your shocked expression and suppressed a dry laugh.

Quite frankly, he could care less about the Pierre family. Constance has been nothing but a nuisance to him and his brother.

He’d been willing to overlook the rumors of how annoyingly outstanding and clever the freshman was because he knew his little brother would always be better.

But after the blonde went so far as to start pestering you, he used the information he’d gathered against Chance in its opportune moment. And he had no regrets.

You snuck a peek at Jimin and saw a familiar, cold decisiveness plastered on his face. It was the only expression you’d been seeing from him for a while now. Any time someone brought up the missing student, Jimin would go frostily silent.

It reminded you of the difference between the two of you, just like his reaction--or lack thereof--the morning of Chance’s disappearance had.

You figured he was just uncomfortable talking about the situation and was carefully avoiding it, just as he had with you and Mana that first day you spent lunch together.

At least it wasn’t Mom or Mana, you thought to yourself.

“They must’ve finally found him.” You commented, distracted by your incoming thoughts.

Aemilia’s family is specifically in charge of hunting down anyone who can be perceived as a “threat” to the Kim family. Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre, however, acquired social immunity for themselves and their families as the girls are so close.

Or so you thought.

Constance’s disheveled appearance the morning Chance went missing made much more sense, then. She was worried sick about her little brother, and one of her closest friends didn’t even bother warning her or her family.

You shuddered. Just how many people would Aemilia sacrifice? How far would she go, just for her sick sense of what was right?

You had no intention of finding out.

By lunch time, the rest of the school had heard exactly what happened to poor Chance Pierre.

The fourteen year old boy was deposited in the family’s living room, returned out of the blue just like all of those who came before him.

His mother had stepped out for a short moment to go grocery shopping and returned to find her bloody mess of a son, who she then quickly rushed to the hospital.

He was covered in bruises, had a broken arm and leg, several broken ribs, and permanent blindness in his left eye. All things considered, he is one of the lucky ones.

His family was just grateful that he was returned to them still breathing.

Whatever the message was, the Pierre family had received it loud and clear. And so had the rest of the town.

No one is allowed to leave Ichabod. Not without being stopped by Death herself.

Another school day had come to an end, and you walked out the building with Mana and Jimin at your side.

Seeing how the end of the month was coming up, you and Jimin decided that it would be best if you went over to his house to work on the project again. The beginning of the presentations were not far off and it was about time you completed your research.

It didn’t take long to convince your mother. The both of you found it easier for you to go over to the Kim residence than to ask Jimin if he could come to your home.

You sat on a granite bench outside of the entrance. Mana stood on your left, leaning up against the wall and Jimin sat to your right, perched on the bench.

You were waiting for Driver Bin and Mr. Waye to show up when you heard a familiar voice call out.

“(Y/N)! Jimin hyung!” You watched as Taehyung came running out the school doors, Jungkook trailing calmly behind him.

You waved at the two and gave them a tired smile. Taehyung made himself comfortable on Jimin’s lap as Jungkook stood along the wall near Mana.

“Did you have a good day, (Y/N)?” Taehyung hummed, eyes teeming with concern.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You said, struggling to actually mean that statement.

Mana gave you a knowing look and huffed out a laugh under their breath.

It’s not as though you almost had your things stolen twice in one day.

This morning, Hoseok saw you chasing a junior who was running away with some of your notebooks and folders in hand.

His charming smile dropped and he gave her a grim look. All he had to do was extend his hand and she placed the items in his palm, which he then promptly returned to you.

Then one of your classmates stole your laptop while you were at lunch in an effort to wipe the thing. Had it not been for Namjoon walking into the library and catching them in the act, you surely would have lost all of your information.

Thankfully, he safely retrieved your laptop from your classmate. You made a new password for all of your devices and resolved to never let your bag out of your sight again.

“I’m glad you’re coming over again, though! Maybe we’ll get to watch a movie or play some games together.” He flashed you a boxy grin and you sent him a small smile in return.

“Jungkookie’s got loads of games,” Jimin added, peeking his head out from behind Taehyung. “He’s such a hoarder, he rarely lets us play with him. I’m sure he’d let you, though.”

Jungkook punched Jimin in the shoulder, looking at the ground in embarrassment. “Hyung, what are you saying...”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You sighed absentmindedly. “I could do with a break from school and homework for like, the next month.”

The youngest brother flushed, peeking up at you through his bangs. “If you wanted to, I’d be happy to play with you.” He mumbled as he smiled.

“Oh, there’s Driver Bin!” Taehyung called, hopping up and pulling you and Jimin to your feet.

You hugged Mana goodbye as the black van pulled up to the curb. Just as you turned to follow Jimin, however, someone knocked their shoulder into yours.

“Oh, sweetie. You should really watch where you’re going.”

Brooklyn stood in your path with her arms crossed. Over her shoulder, you saw Aemilia and Constance standing a short distance away. They looked as though they were about to make their way towards Aemilia’s family’s car.

Of course, she could have just walked around you, but why would she ever let you off easy?

The strawberry blonde wore a satisfied smile and she leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a haggard Constance. Constance merely blinked and nodded in response.

You smiled at the girl in front of you. “Of course. It was all my mistake. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.”

You stepped closer as though you were going to confront her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward you before she could step back.

She fought against you but that only made you grip her arm tighter. You could feel your nails start to dig into her skin.

“I’m sorry that you’re nothing more than a means to an end.” You murmured in her ear.

The brunette stilled.

“I’m sorry Aemilia couldn’t care less about you or your family.” You continued, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry that your so called friend sees you as mere disposable goods, or should I say...a useful little puppet?”

You released your grip on her arm, bringing your hand up to her shoulder instead and giving it a few consoling pats. “Didn’t your little sister just get the lead role in the school play? I would hate for you to be the next Constance...”

You looked toward the blonde just to emphasize your point and Brooklyn’s eyes followed your gaze.

Constance was staring, unseeing, at the ground, nervously clinging to Aemilia like a lifeline. She was strangely quiet and obedient...like a dog in fear of disobeying its master.

Brooklyn looked back and forth between you, Aemilia, and Constance in utter shock. You sent her one more sympathetic look before moving around her to follow the Kims into their car.

The remaining students whispered, wondering about what you said and in the corner of your eye, you saw Mana tilt their head inquisitively. You knew they had questions, questions you would have to answer later.

You bowed in greeting to Mr. Bin and entered the car behind Jimin like last time, Namjoon going in after you.

Mr. Bin closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle in preparation to leave.

“I’ve never seen Brooklyn look so shocked,” Taehyung said from the backseat. He put his hands on the headrest behind you and poked his head around it. “What did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “Something that could hopefully put her life in a different perspective.”

“I don’t know how you deal with those girls, (Y/N).” Jimin said. “Aren’t you tired of the tricks Aemilia’s playing?”

“Don’t you just want to get rid of them, once and for all?” Taehyung asked, tone darkening.

You shrugged. “For whatever reason, she’s currently obsessed with me-”

The reason being all of you-

“-and of course I want her to stop, but I would never give her the satisfaction of letting her think she won. She’s petty, and a bully.”

You texted your mother an update on your location and locked your phone, looking up at your classmates. “She just needs a reality check. I’d be happy to give it to her every now and then.”

Part of you felt like trying to care for Brooklyn was pointless, especially after the way she treated you. The other part of you felt you were killing two birds with one stone--you were opening her eyes and isolating Aemilia in one go.

While Namjoon and Hoseok nodded in understanding, the rest of the boys couldn’t help but worry.

They all followed Namjoon’s advice religiously in fear of scaring you away. But what if your independence only made it harder for them to be able to be there for you? What if you never came to them on your own for assistance?

...They would simply have to make it so that you had no other choice, would they not?

But the circumstances were not yet that dire, so for now, you had nothing to fear.

——————————————————————

The ride into the woods was pleasantly silent, and this time you made sure you didn’t fall asleep.

All too soon, Mr. Bin drove the van past the wrought-iron gate and up the impressive driveway. You weren’t as nervous as you were your first time visiting their residence, but you still had your guard up.

The boys bound up the wooden steps and opened the front door, piling into their home. You entered last, quietly closing the door behind you.

As you were taking off your shoes, you spied a pair of nude slides next to all of the black ones.

Jungkook noticed you looking at them and smiled. “Mother prepared them for you. She saw you wearing hyung’s pair the last time you came over and ordered them after you left with your mom.”

“That’s so kind of her,” you said, slightly in awe. “I’ll be sure to express my thanks.”

You never thought you’d reach the day where Mrs. Kim would welcome you so readily into her home, but here you stood corrected.

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Jimin called to you from the stairway.

“Coming!” You lay your shoes at the door, slid your feet into the slippers, and went to catch up with him, climbing upstairs.

The library had hardly changed since you were gone. The shelves were just as dusty and dilapidated as before, and the couch was just as comfortable.

You maintained a safe distance away from Jimin this time as well so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to pull any tricks.

You spent the majority of the afternoon on writing the paper together, as you both had agreed. A few hours later, you finished and decided to get a head start on the presentation.

“‘The strength of a Nephilim depends on which angelic order their parent hails from,’” You read out to Jimin as he added to your shared document from his laptop.

“‘The sheer majority, however, were parented by those in the third sphere. This was the lowest order consisting of the angels most concerned with the affairs of humans: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.’”

“Got it.” He claimed, typing out a couple more sentences. “I think we have enough for the background information, but Mrs. Hargrove also wants us to discuss the religions they come from, their abilities and their weaknesses.”

You hummed. “Angels are mentioned in a multitude of religions, but Nephilim are really only mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, according to sources.”

“So that question shouldn’t be so difficult to answer,” He smiled, marking it.

“Nephilim are really strong,” you said from behind the book cover, fascinated by the information it held. “They appear as ordinary humans on the outside but possess celestial powers bestowed upon them by their angelic parent. They’re faster and stronger than ordinary humans, and are excellent at reading people.”

Jimin took the book from you and glanced further down in the book to see if he could find more specific powers for your project.

“Oh, I found something here.”

You opened your laptop and prepared to type as he read.

“It says Nephilim possess super strength, longevity, the power of flight, healing abilities, teleportation, telepathy, angelic wrath, illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and telekinesis.” He raised his eyebrow in awe.

You chuckled as your hands raced to keep up with his words. “Illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and what?”

“Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind.” He said.

“I could use that all the time--like, the other day, I was waiting in front of the student council room to return the uniform I borrowed.”

You recounted the story for Jimin as he peeked up at you. You were too engrossed in typing, however, to notice his gaze. “I could have sworn the door was locked, but then Namjoon appeared and it unlocked without him pulling out a key or anything. He just flicked his wrist and open sesame.”

Jimin unabashedly stared at you, a small smile on his face. You always noticed the littlest things about them and it made his heart pound for you a little harder.

“Namjoon hyung always comes in at the coolest moments,” he replied, looking down at what you’d managed to gather so far. “So, we have the powers and where they come from. I think we found a section on their weaknesses the other day.”

“Yeah, it sounds like their main weakness is original sin, or the innate tendency to sin, all humans receive once they’re born.” You thought back to the section you and Jimin read before. “Because they’re part human and part angel, they are constantly at war with themselves and the human side typically wins.”

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Jimin asked.

You closed your laptop. “...What do you mean?”

Jimin shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean, they’re celestial beings. They have cosmic powers at their disposal, access to the heavens, and everything they could have wanted. But they have a choice to throw it away, to sin, for...whatever the reason may be.” He muttered, glancing aside at the carpet. “If they gave it up, do you think they would have made the right decision?”

You paused for a moment, eyeing the shadows nearby branches cast on the library windows. “It think it depends on the person and what they’re sinning for. Whether they were doing it for their own self interest, or to protect a loved one-”

“What if they were doing it because they loved someone?” Jimin interrupted, eyes widened in curiosity.

Your eyes left the window as you turned to face him. “I would admire their dedication. And it’s not as though they lose their abilities when they fall from grace. I only wish that person would be worth it, and that they’re happy.”

You smiled wistfully. “An angel losing their wings to love someone for the rest of their life. What a sad, beautiful thing. ’Tis the plight of being human, I suppose. They’re really not that different from us--besides the celestial gifts, of course.”

Jimin grinned and hummed in agreement.

As always, only you could understand them perfectly.

You stood up from the couch and brushed off the back of your skirt. “Uh, Jimin, could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

He smiled. “Yeah! You just make a left at the corner, then a right, then another right, and there should be a guest room with a bathroom in it.”

You zoned into and out of your thoughts momentarily and blinked, smiling and nodding at him. “Thanks.”

——————————————————————

Perhaps Jimin told you the directions incorrectly, or you made a left when you should have made a right, but there was no doubt about it. You were lost. There was no bathroom where he stated there was, and you’d been wandering around the third floor for several minutes now with no clue as to where it was.

“Damn this house.” You muttered under your breath. “Only seven people live here, why is it so big?”

You finally came upon what looked like a guest room, one that hopefully had a bathroom inside, when you heard two voices speaking from the behind the partially open door.

“Seriously. You need to be more careful with these sorts of things.” The first voice said, deep and mature.

You stopped in your tracks immediately.

“It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” the second one spoke. Their voice was much lower and raspier than the first.

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why you should pay more attention when doing your work.” The first voice nagged and you heard someone hiss.

“Ah, it’s fine. It was worth it. Still, thanks for patching me up, hyung.”

You were stuck near the crack in the door, too afraid to move in fear of being heard.

“Whatever. You’re too reckless. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, come on. How was I supposed to know that the kid would make such a-”

“Stop talking.” The first voice stated, sounding much lower than it had before.

Your eyes shook at the sudden silence and you whipped around to look at the hallway, quickly searching for a place to hide.

About two steps behind you, there was a five foot long indent in the wall, courtesy of the prominent display of a large painting.

You risked it and threw yourself backward, stepping as quietly onto the wood as you could before throwing your back up against the indent, facing away from the room.

And not a moment too soon, as you heard the door fly open the second you were hidden from view. You sunk to the floor in a crouch.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” You could hear the younger’s voice sound from the room much clearer now.

You sucked yourself as tightly into the corner as you could.

There was no response from the older and you strained your ears for a sign, a hint, anything.

Breathing felt too loud, swallowing felt too loud, the brush of your clothes against your neck as you turned your head felt too loud. Everything was deafening.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me-

There was the slow, soft padding of feet on the wooden floor. You trembled as it got closer and closer to where you sat.

In the corner of your eye, you could see a socked foot, inches away from where you hid.

“Jin hyung!”

Your savior, none other than Jimin, appeared at the end of the hallway, yelling in excitement.

You know he saw you, of course he saw you. It was impossible not to coming from his direction. You cast your eyes down, praying he wouldn’t reveal your presence.

He grinned as he ran towards the man.

“You came back early!” The younger boy tackled him in a hug, wrapping his legs around him.

The force drove the man back several steps and he grunted, his foot disappearing from your sight. “Jimin, you’re getting a bit too old for this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I know you’ll always carry me, hyung.” You heard him giggle.

“What are you doing up here?” The other voice asked, joining the other two in the hallway. You remained where you sat, not moving an inch.

“Yoongi hyung! You came back too!”

He scoffed. “Of course I did.”

“Answer his question first, Jimin ah.” You heard the elder comment in a much warmer voice than the threatening tone you heard behind the door.

“I was in the library working on a project with my classmate. She had to use the bathroom but she never came back, so I came looking for her.”

You blinked rapidly, staring at the wooden floor in front of you.

There was a pause.

“Have either of you seen her?” Jimin asked.

“...No, we haven’t.” The deep and mature voice, which you now matched to the eldest brother, replied.

“I’ll just keep looking, then. But you should head downstairs. Father will be home soon, he’ll be pleased to know you’re here!”

Due to the series of complaints you then heard, it sounded as though Jimin took both of his brothers by the wrist and led them to the stairway down the other side of the hallway.

You waited in that spot for several moments, until you couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing up against the walls. Once you ensured that they were gone, you ran back down the hallway you came, bladder be damned.

Of course. How could you have possibly forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s two eldest children?

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin.

Had you not moved when you did, and had Jimin not interfered when he had, you might have...no, you surely would have lost your life in that instant.

——————————————————————

You made it back to the library, quickly and quietly opening the door before rushing in.

Jimin still hadn’t returned, so no one was there to see you fly over to the couch and plop down to sit. You tried to catch your breath to slow the pounding of your heart.

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin. You were almost caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

You had never wanted to purge your memory more than in that exact moment.

What if they suspect I heard everything? What if they have the Augustuses’ people capture me for it? It couldn’t have been that important--it sounded like they were just patching up wounds. Maybe one of them got into a fight? Surely this wouldn’t be enough to warrant such violence. Even they have limits, yes? Then again, when did they ever need a reason to-

The library doors flew open and you flinched, looking up at them only to sigh in relief.

“(Y/N), there you are! Did you find the bathroom alright?”

Jimin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at you. You restrained yourself from cursing at or hitting him in anger and relief, choosing instead to let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah,” you stated quietly. “It was fine.”

At that moment you received a text from your mother stating that she was downstairs.

"My mom says she’s here. I guess it’s time for me to go.” You stated, beginning to pack your laptop and notebooks away.

“Sure! I’ll come downstairs with you.” He smiled and turned away from you to return The Word of the Lost to its proper shelf.

“Thanks,” you whispered, then zipped your bag up.

Jimin was already gliding away toward the back of the library, the leather bound book in hand, but he still managed to hear you. He didn’t respond, but he smirked triumphantly.

You accepted his silence as a “You’re welcome” and took the moment to fix your composure. When you were both ready, he led the way downstairs.

“My eldest sons have finally returned home!” You heard Kim Moonsik cheer from the living room.

His tone, usually melancholic and oily, was much lighter today. You surmised that even his mood could be improved by the sight of his family.

He sat on one of the two settees while his two oldest sons perched on the long, gray couch in front of him.

They both had black hair and dark eyes, like their brothers and parents. One was casually dressed in a large black hoodie and black sweatpants, while the other looked comfortable in a neutral toned sweater and slacks.

The one sitting on the left rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why you had hyung drag me here a week earlier than necessary, Father. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Kim Yoongi was notorious for his rebellious attitude. You had heard that since his days at Ichabod Academy, he never listened to authority figures--his classmates were afraid of him and his teachers let him do as he please. The only time he would adhere to rules and tradition was at the required monthly meetings, for obvious reasons.

“On the contrary,” The older man chuckled. “Every time you come home is cause for occasion, my prodigal son.”

“Have some sympathy for me here.” The eldest drawled with his arms crossed. “I get a headache every time I’m forced to drag you home with me.”

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, was an entertainer. He would lower people’s defenses with a friendly expression and a joke. The citizens of Ichabod found him much more agreeable and respectable as Mayor Kim’s eldest son. They thought him harmless. They fawned over him and Namjoon, praising the mayor for how well he’d raised them in terms of respect and diplomacy.

They were fools. For even now, you could see it as he lounged back relaxedly in his seat: Kim Seokjin may be considered kind and polite, but he was by no means harmless.

“Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” Jimin piped up from beside you on the stairs, drawing the three’s attention.

You could feel the college students’ gaze burning into the side of your face.

You kept your facial expression neutral and descended the stairs behind Jimin, who skipped down the rest of them.

“Who’s this?” You heard Yoongi question.

“This is my classmate, (Y/N). She’s the person I was looking for earlier,” Jimin said, seating himself in between his older brothers.

You bowed toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Seokjin smiled and reached out his hand. You extended yours, expecting a handshake.

He held it, turned it over, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “The pleasure is all ours.”

Yoongi smirked as you took your hand back, fighting a blush. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, you too. It’s nice to see you again as well, Mr. Kim.” You addressed the older man.

“You also, (Y/N) dear. I’m simply ecstatic you took up our invitation.” Mayor Kim said, the usual, passionate fire in his eyes blazing.

You fought back a shudder.

“You know the entire town needs to be present, Yoongi ah.” Mr. Kim continued the conversation from before. “You’re no exception.”

“I never said I was,” the second oldest retorted. “I just prefer to spend less of my break here.”

“How’s everything at school, Jiminie?” Seokjin asked as Jimin wrapped his arms around his midsection, skillfully redirecting the subject matter.

“Strange, as usual.” He mumbled, hesitantly looking up at you.

“I heard the police finally found the Pierre boy,” Mr. Kim added, and you suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this conversation.

Where’s my mother? Weren’t we supposed to be leaving?

“Yes, we heard about it at lunch.” Jimin said. His tone when speaking to his father wasn’t as clipped or standoffish as it was when he was speaking to his mother; rather, it was more lackadaisical. “Right, (Y/N)?”

All four heads spun to you, still standing in the middle of the living room.

“Why are you standing there looking so stiff?” Seokjin sent you a sinister smile. “Come join us.”

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you had no choice in the matter. You smiled awkwardly and shuffled to the empty settee.

Before you could sit down, however, Jimin jumped up and pulled you to the couch, seating you in his old spot between his brothers. He then claimed the spot on the other side of Seokjin.

You stiffened and relaxed in a second, praying to everything that you didn’t look as uncomfortable as you felt.

The atmosphere was stifling. You couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a shame what happened to him, truly.” Mr. Kim continued, humming in sympathy. “I sincerely hope something like that doesn’t have to happen again.”

How dare he sit here and act as though he had nothing to do with it? What happened to Chance Pierre was his fault! You unconsciously balled your fist in your lap.

“I’m sure everyone will take this lesson to heart, Father.” Seokjin consoled him. “May they never underestimate the power of Wylynne’s grace again.”

“She is holy and forgiving, but some actions need to be punished, yes.” Yoongi added from your right with a cruel smirk. “Praise Wylynne.”

“Praise Wylynne.” Jimin nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were the only one left who had not spoken. When you raised your eyes to meet with the others’, indeed, they were waiting for your response.

“...Praise Wylynne.” You smiled. False religion or not, there was no way you would be testing your luck in front of the divine priest and his sons.

Mr. Kim nodded in approval, then broke out into a laugh. “Wise, hardworking, and devoted; like mother, like daughter. Wylynne surely smiles upon the women of the (L/N) family.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Will your mother be arriving to get you soon?” Mr. Kim asked you.

“It was to my knowledge that she was already here-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your head spun toward the sound of your mother’s voice and found her standing in the entryway next to Kim Eunbyul. She wore navy blue scrubs today and her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands in the front.

You had thought right. The two were a vision next to each other.

Mrs. Kim walked over, bringing your mother with her. “I apologize for the wait--(M/N) and I were having the most delightful conversation. (Y/N) my dear, how are you?”

She sat next to her husband on one settee and your mother took a seat on the other, empty one.

This was your second time seeing Mrs. Kim, yet you still could not get over her beauty. She wore another silk housedress, a muslin scarf draped behind her back and over her inner arms.

Her elegance was neither ostentatious nor arrogant. She demanded respect but gave it in return.

She had what Aemilia desperately sought after but could never possess.

You nodded with a smile, bowing slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim. I’m fine, thanks for worrying. And thank you so much for the sandals, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.”

The former actress waved her hand lightly as she laughed. “It was no trouble at all!”

She took your hands in hers and looked down at her feet. “Besides, we match!” Following her gaze, your eyes widened. Indeed, you both had the same style and brand of slippers on.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming her so warmly, Mrs. Kim.” Your mother smiled.

“Of course.” She assured. “Think nothing of it. I already think of you both as family.”

Your heart warmed a bit and you smiled in response to her words, for you already greatly admired Mrs. Kim. To think that she had taken a liking to both you and your mother...

It was then that the rest of the brothers trekked downstairs in curiosity, then heartily grinned once they realized their oldest brothers had arrived.

“How about we let the kids step aside so us adults can talk properly, hmm?” Mrs. Kim suggested, taking her husband’s hand.

Mr. Kim grinned and squeezed her hand in response. “A wonderful idea, love.”

The boys then quickly pulled you away from the main couches, moving your discussion toward the glass windows.

You looked back at your mom a couple of times while the brothers greeted each other before focusing on the conversation at hand.

The eight of you stood in a circle near the windows, and you were currently stuck between Jungkook and Seokjin.

“The other day, (Y/N) said she really liked your interior designing, Jin hyung.” Hoseok piped up. “She said she thought the living room was lovely.”

“Did she? She must have impeccable taste.” He playfully winked at you.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you. I really admire what you’ve done with the space.”

Yoongi, across from you, leaned against the glass. “How is everything at the academy these days?” He asked.

You hesitated to answer then directed your gaze to the floor thinking the question was not meant for you. When you didn’t hear any of the other boys speak, you looked up and found six sets of eyes on you.

Their gazes were so focused and intense, as if you would break or disappear the moment they looked away. You shifted your eyes.

“It’s not the easiest, but isn’t that what high school is like for everyone?” You grimace-smiled.

“(Y/N)’s being bullied.” Taehyung revealed, draping himself over Jimin’s shoulder. “Aemilia Augustus and her lackeys won’t leave her alone.”

This little-

You whipped your head around to see if your mother had heard anything. Thankfully, Taehyung’s voice was lowered at the time. She seemed engrossed in her discussion with Mrs. Kim.

“The Augustus princess?” Yoongi asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“She’s what?” Jin started in surprise, his polite smile turning into a displeased frown. He glanced at Namjoon. The student council president simply nodded in response.

“She has the other kids pester or steal from (Y/N).” Hoseok added, glaring out the window. “The students can hardly stop talking about it.”

Jungkook gently tugged on your shirt sleeve to get your attention. “If she’ s bothering you--”

“It’s alright.” You assured them before they could really give Aemilia and her people a reason to go after you. “I’m working it out.”

“And how well is that going?” Namjoon snorted, giving you a knowing look.

You grimaced, locking and unlocking your phone. “...I’m working it out.” You repeated, suddenly fascinated by the wooden floor.

“If she ever gives you a hard time, you let me know.” Yoongi said, holding up his fists. One hand was wrapped in bandages and the other hand was bare, knuckles covered in torn skin and still-healing scabs. “I don’t get these from just lying around, if you catch my drift.”

You gaped at his hands and at the offer. Kim Yoongi? Offering to beat someone up for you? Where had his famous apathetic attitude gone?

“Violence is never the answer, Yoongi ah.” Seokjin replied before you could. He gently took your phone from you while it was unlocked and swiped around until he found your contacts. “If you ever need help, just give us a call. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We’ll always be there.”

You opened and closed your mouth in distress.

Seokjin pointedly ignored the glare Namjoon was sending his way.

He was jealous of his younger brothers, who got to see and speak with you every day. Earlier, he’d been in the middle of healing and wrapping Yoongi’s injury when he saw your shadow outside the door.

He’d barely been able to hold himself back from ripping you out your hiding spot and pulling you into his arms. But then all of their progress would have been for naught.

So he allowed Jimin to drag him away.

But not anymore.

He understood that you needed your time and space but, really, their angel shouldn’t be so stubborn around them.

He held the device out to you and you took it back, observing the six newest additions to your contacts list. He’d taken the time to add not just his number, but the rest of the brothers’ numbers as well.

“Thank you,” You confided with a rare, genuine, and small smile, “really. But I can handle it myself.”

On the outside, some of them nodded while the others frowned at the floor.

On the inside, however, they collectively sighed inside their head, tired of your age old response.

They just wanted you to be able to lean on them, to see them as another option that was always available to you, and only you.

How long was it going to take for you to trust them? How far would they have to go to capture the object of their desire?

Whatever the obstacle, they would surely overcome it.

Your mother called your name once more and you shouldered your bag, replacing the nude slippers with your school shoes.

“I hope you have a pleasant night,” You said to the brothers, fumbling with your shoes. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow!” Jimin waved you off with a smile and his brothers and parents chorused farewells behind him.

You both bowed once more to the Kim family and descended the stairs, making as hasty but collected an exit as possible.

“I swear, (Y/N), I lose years off my life every time I come to this house,” your mother murmured once you both sat in the car.

“You know what, Mom? So do I.” You exhaled, slumping down in the front seat. “Drive slowly, won’t you? I might be the one throwing up once we reach the edge of the woods.”

Your mother barked out a laugh and nodded in thanks to Mr. Bin as he opened the gate.

As you drove away from the Kim family home, you opened your messages and texted Mana, updating them on how you’d nearly lost your life this time.

That night, you ate dinner, cleaned up, finished other assignments, and had an hours long conversation with Mana about Brooklyn and your latest visit to the Kim residence.

The way their eyes bugged out of their head when you told them about how you’d nearly gotten caught made you laugh. Of course, it hadn’t been funny in the moment. Even thinking about it now made you slightly nauseous.

But you went to sleep that night all the same, dreaming once again of haunting, magnificent black wings.

——————————————————————

Once the front door of the Kim household closed, Jimin’s cheerful face dropped into a scowl.

And he was not the only one upset. All seven of them glowered around the room in the aftermath of (Y/N)’s departure.

Kim Eunbyul and Kim Moonsik sat deathly still on the couch, unprepared for whatever was coming.

When someone is explosive with anger, they are destructive. One might break things, they may say harmful words, but for the most part, one takes their anger out in that single moment.

The seven men behind them were different.

When they were angry, they plotted. The harder it was for them to get what they wanted, the harder they fought. They made sure there would be nothing that could possibly be in their way.

“We told you to be patient, hyung.” Namjoon broke the angry silence. “Don’t ruin all of our plans with your ineptitude.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Seokjin scoffed. “I put your number in her phone, too. Try being a little grateful.”

“Don’t disrespect your elders, Namjoon.” Hoseok chided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We told you to put your dog on her leash.”

“You weren’t complaining when Aemilia’s antics gave you opportunities to help (Y/N),” Namjoon sneered. “I loathe her very existence as well, don’t misunderstand me.”

“You should hear the rumors going around at school, Namjoon hyung.” Jungkook frowned. “People are placing bets on how soon Aemilia’s going to destroy her.”

“I know you’re the brains of this operation but if (Y/N) gets hurt, this is not going to end prettily.” Yoongi stated solemnly.

“I won’t let it get to that point.” Namjoon assured.

“Get it together. And keep that girl in line.” Seokjin nodded.

There was a significant reason Eunbyul was so receptive of the (h/c) haired girl and her mother.

Despite the fact that she really did enjoy your company and was happy to welcome you into their home, she knew what would await her if she ever dared to mistreat you.

You precious thing. You precious, hardheaded, stubborn thing. Why did you not give in to what they wanted? Could you truly not see how much they how much they longed to protect possess be with you?

Perhaps you’ve already started picking up on it, and this was why you wanted to distance yourself from them before it was too late.

You beautiful, foolish thing. It was already far too late.

Eunbyul quivered, squeezing her husband’s hand. Moonsik wore a stony expression on his face, but he squeezed his wife’s hand back with surprising strength.

When she looked up from her lap, she gasped, for Jungkook was squatting directly in front of her. She felt as though his dark gaze was piercing her soul.

The probability of that very thing happening in this instant was high.

She exhaled and carefully avoided his gaze.

“Mother, Father,” he hummed, “is everything alright? You’re shaking like leaves in the wind.”

“Oh dear.” Taehyung replied, resting his arms on the back of the settee behind them. He tilted his head and frowned down at the two as if they were insects, scurrying around in an attempt to escape their deaths. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“I’m sure it was just a result of them working so hard.” Seokjin smiled at Moonsik. “I must say, I was impressed.” The elder simply nodded and avoided his gaze.

Namjoon strolled over to Eunbyul’s side of the settee and gently pat the woman on her back. “Your performance today was especially moving, Mother.”

“At least she wasn’t trembling in front of (Y/N) like she did last time,” Jimin kissed his teeth. “Useless woman.”

Hoseok bent over in laughter, the outburst shortening into a light giggle as he joined them by the couches.

“They work diligently, why not praise them once in a while?” He suggested, suppressing another laugh.

“Like I’ll ever.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I really hope you know what you’re talking about, Namjoon hyung. I’m going to bed before I feel the need to hit something--or someone.” Jimin glared and bounded back up the stairs.

“It’s alright. We’re fine.” Eunbyul forced out. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you should be. If you weren’t, it would imply you did something wrong.” Yoongi smiled.

“And if you did something wrong,” Jin continued, “...well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She stiffly nodded.

“Of course not.” Taehyung grinned and pat her head condescendingly.

“Of course.” Moonshik repeated, willing his hands to stop trembling.

He had never expected this to happen. He never thought he would be living the life that he did.

He had called for power, and he had surely received it, but not in the way he thought he would.

Was the insurmountable power worth the treatment he received in his own home?

Yes. And if he had to repeat it, he would have made the exact same decision. It would surely be worth it. That was what he told himself day in and day out, the prayer he spoke to his god in an attempt to convince himself of the lie.

It would surely be worth it.

“We’re trusting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.”

——————————————————————

The Augustus residence was a fairly old building, a beautiful family manor transformed into a modern, affluent home. It stood in the center of the city, as their family used to be the epicenter of society.

Aemilia found both her home and its location extremely fitting.

As unfortunate as it would be that she would have to move from this stately home to one in the middle-of-nowhere woods, she was willing to deal with it. She would follow her future husband anywhere, everywhere, if need be.

Usually, the esteemed Augustus home was silent.

“How could you?” Brooklyn shouted in anger.

But today, those grand old walls whispered in the wind through quite the ruckus.

“The people that work for your family dragged Constance’s little brother out of his home in the middle of the day! They tortured him for two weeks! You knew where he was the whole time, and you didn’t say a thing!” Brooklyn gestured toward their friend. “She came to you for help, and you slammed the door in her face!”

The blonde had stopped talking long ago. She curled herself into a ball and tucked her head into her chest, looking well on the verge of a panic attack.

The three girls had arrived at Aemilia’s house earlier, prepared to do the usual: finish some homework, study, and binge watch some shows.

But (Y/N) (L/N)’s words had been ringing inside of Brooklyn’s head all afternoon.

A means to an end.

Disposable goods.

A useful little puppet.

She couldn’t take thinking it anymore, so she finally voiced the dreaded question. Brooklyn asked Aemilia what she and Constance meant to her.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, staying quiet for several minutes. She then grinned and replied,“My ladies in waiting?”

For Wylynne’s sake. She could have at least been less direct than to compare them to literal servants.

Brooklyn erupted at Aemilia, asking her if that’s what she thought years of friendship had amounted to, thus leading them to their current argument.

For whatever reason, it had never occurred to the brunette that Aemilia may be using her. She thought she had broken the barriers the callous girl held for her long ago, but after Constance showed up at Brooklyn’s house in tears, combined with Aemilia’s response to Chance’s disappearance...

Perhaps it was time she seriously reevaluated their “friendship”.

“Don’t you think you could have reassured her that he was alive? Even police officers tell family members when people have been arrested.” Brooklyn glared at the other girl.

“Get real, Brooklyn. This isn’t a stupid police station. This is Ichabod. It’s because we live in Ichabod that Chance broke the law, and received his due punishment.” Aemilia justified coldly.

“A fourteen year old boy in laying in his bed, covered in bruises and permanently blind in one eye. But I need to get real because this is Ichabod, and that somehow makes it okay?” Brooklyn raised her volume, disturbed by how convicted Aemilia was in her reasoning. “How could you possibly think that makes it okay?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aemilia sneered, “I wasn’t aware that I needed your opinion or approval for my thoughts and actions.”

“That’s exactly the problem! This is about you playing us, using us through your actions! I honestly thought we meant more than that to you!” She snarled in response.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Aemilia shrugged. “You and Constance used me for popularity and safety, and now you come crying to me, claiming that I can’t use you in return?” She barked out a laugh. “That hardly seems fair. How ungrateful.”

The brunette couldn’t deny the benefits that came along with being close to the strawberry blonde, but for her to twist their entire history and friendship into one of utility? She was beside herself with anger.

“Used you? You think we used you? For what?” She roared. “Your money? Your status? Don’t you think we have those exact same things?”

Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were not one’s normal, run of the mill best friends. In fact, they were in extremely similar situations to Aemilia, for their families were also members of the old city elite.

The Hayes and Pierres had lived in Ichabod for nearly as long as the Augustuses. They may not have had the same amount of prestige that Aemilia lay claim to, but they certainly were not far off.

“You grew up with us and thought we were nothing more than what? Walking labels that strengthened your social status? People you could use to do your bidding?” Brooklyn deadpanned. “We were nothing more than pawns in your game, weren’t we?”

“We didn’t befriend you because of your title or your family, Aemilia. We befriended you because we admired you and your personality. We weren’t the ones that twisted your perception of us into toys, or puppets, or ladies in waiting.” She gave a mirthless smile. “That was all you.”

Aemilia paused, reminiscing on her younger days. In every interaction she ever experienced, she was treated like royalty. At some point, she simply assumed it was natural for everyone to bend to her every whim.

Everyone...except for those two.

They had approached her for some childish reason like playing dolls or tag or other, but it was all genuine.

“I honestly can’t believe you.” Brooklyn shook her head at her silence and stormed around the room, collecting her and Constance’s materials and shoving them into their respective bags.

“All these years. All these years, and I was that clueless, that hopeful.” Brooklyn muttered as she gave her a cruel smile. “I can’t believe (Y/N) (L/N) knew you better than I did.”

Aemilia’s face flushed bright red.

“Your ladies in waiting are going to relieve themselves of their position now.” Brooklyn carefully dragged the non responsive blonde to her feet, holding both of their bags and contacting her personal driver. She curled her lip. “Please feel free to march your way to the throne by yourself, your highness.”

The door slammed shut behind them, and for a moment, the residence was silent once more.

Then, with an anguished cry, Aemilia picked up whatever textbooks were nearby and vaulted them at her walls.

First, her future husband. Next, her friends. What would that (h/c) haired bitch steal next? Her life?

“No. No. I won’t let it get that far. I would never let you get away with it!” She screamed, hurling another book.

Her bedroom door swung open and her father ducked the incoming textbook. “Aemilia! What on earth is going on? Brooklyn and Constance just left looking extremely upset, did you three have an argument?”

She dropped the rest of the textbooks, raced to her father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Daddy, I need you to call up the special squadron.”

Aloysius Augustus held his daughter’s hands and warily pried them off of him. “Whatever for?”

Aemilia flashed him a maniacal grin. “Namjoon just texted me. He says his father believes he’s found in another soul in dire need of discipline.”

——————————————————————

Ever since engaging in this battle of wills with Aemilia, you tell yourself that there isn’t anything that could surprise you anymore.

Yet the actions of your classmates the next morning were strange. Stranger than you could possibly anticipate.

You entered the classroom and found a group of girls standing in a huddle around a desk, whispering to one another.

The room was strangely empty. Neither Mana nor Jimin had arrived yet, nor had some of your other classmates known for coming to school relatively early.

The girls noticed your entrance and quieted immediately. You found this suspicious, so you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. You shifted your gaze away from them and kept on walking to your seat.

That is, until you heard one of them scoff loudly in your direction.

“I mean, just look at her. She walks around the school as if she’s better than us, just because Ms. Diivi had Jimin sit next to her.”

You froze but their tittering only got louder.

The girl that scoffed before, a classmate of yours named Seph, left the group and stood in front of you with crossed arms.

“You’re not anything special, (Y/N). You shouldn’t mistake yourself.”

The others seemed to agree with her as, soon enough, they left the desk one by one to surround you.

“It’s really pathetic how you practically beg for Jimin’s attention.”

“The other day, when you made him give you his sweater? It was really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I could hardly stand to watch.”

They imitated your shivering as they laughed, making it look as though you were having a seizure.

“You used to be tolerable at the least, but Jimin transferred to our class and you finally decided to take the opportunity to climb the ranks, huh?” Another sneered.

You could hardly move. You were stuck in place, the words swimming around in your head.

Externally, you stared down at the ground in confusion, but internally, you were shocked. You couldn’t believe the accusations the girls were coming up with.

Even after everything this town had been through, the Kim brothers still had some sort of deluded fan club...and now they were coming after you.

“What the hell?” You finally said, lifting your head to look each of them in the eye. “Why would I go begging for his attention?”

“Don’t try to deny it, bitch.” Seph snarled. “You used to keep your head down and mind your business like the rest of us, but now, all of a sudden, you’re relishing in the spotlight.”

“We’ll see just how much Jimin likes you soon enough.” One of her lackeys snickered.

They left you where you stood, turning their attention to the doorway.

You could see Jimin from the glass window in the door, waving goodbye to Taehyung as he headed off to his respective classroom. He reached down to twist the knob and pulled the door open.

Had you blinked, you would have missed the entire thing.

Seph pulled a bucket out from under the desk they were all crowded around and threw its contents all over Jimin.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in shock as he was doused in water from head to toe. His uniform was soaked and his hair lost its floofy nature, flattening down over his eyes.

One of the girls ripped the bucket away from her and shoved it into your hands. They moved back in tandem, shocked gasps hiding their deeds as Jimin wiped water out of his eyes, which landed on you holding the bucket.

“(Y/N)...?”

You were just as shocked as he was, mouth agape. The evidence was completely against you.

He looked up at you with teary eyes. He looked hurt, so angry, you figured there was no way you were going to get out of this.

“I didn’t do it, why would I?” You protested.

“Jimin, are you alright?” The ringleader picked back up, skillfully concealing a triumphant smirk with an open look of concern. “(Y/N), how could you do such an awful thing? Especially after he’s been nothing but kind to you...”

Wow, does she get lessons from Mrs. Kim or something?

You dropped the bucket in surprise. “No! Jimin, it wasn’t me, I promise, they just grabbed the bucket out of nowhere-”

This is it. My mother is going to have to bury her daughter young. I failed to provide for her, or thank her for everything she’s done for me. Your thoughts couldn’t stop racing.

“Even for a prank, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” They continued behind you.

“She’s been acting all this time. I’m not surprised.”

“He treated her so well and it all just blew up in his face.”

“That’s just like her.”

“She’s lying directly to his face, how fake.”

“Disgusting.”

They continued spouting lies in front of Jimin, telling him about how you were only using him, how you would curse his very existence behind his back.

Jimin approached you, his wet shoes squeaking on the tile floors.

You backed up, intimidated, bumping the back of your leg against another desk and falling to the floor.

...Would begging help?

When you finally looked up at him, begging felt like an appealing option.

Jimin’s eyes glistened, chocolate colored irises now hardened and flashing gold.

They were even colder than the ones you’d seen in your dreams, and you felt the temperature around you drop considerably.

You must have been going crazy with terror, something that wasn’t completely amiss in your town. The girls behind you were feasting on the fearful expression in your eyes.

Then, right as you were about to stand, Jimin gently put his hands on your elbows and guided you up.

To their surprise, he tugged you to your feet, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you in for a hug.

“You must have been so scared, weren’t you, (Y/N)?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Those rats dared to mess with you. They tried to come between us with petty rumors and tricks. It’s okay, I’m here now. I believe you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back, the water from his uniform seeping into the front of yours. “I’ll make sure you have nothing to fear.”

Jimin pulled away from the hug, smiling at you. He then turned to face the girls, and with that same chilling smile, spoke.

“You all enjoy playing pranks, yes?”

The girls’ expressions changed in a matter of seconds, from snickers and taunts to tearful pleads.

Seph could hardly pick her jaw up off the floor. “Jimin! It was (Y/N), we all saw her-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You heard a low chuckle sound from the doorway and whipped your head towards the sound.

“I saw everything with my own eyes.” Hoseok stood in the entrance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

When had he gotten there?

“And quite frankly, I don’t take too kindly to you lying about what happened to my darling little brother.” His famed smile slipped from his face as he stared down the girls with more hatred than you’d ever seen him possess.

“Jimin...” you reached out to get his attention, but he couldn’t pry his gaze away from the detestable scum that stood before him.

How quickly the tables had turned, you thought as you watched them cower.

Jimin calmly walked toward her and tucked his hand underneath her chin, yanking her ear to his mouth.

He directly whispered into Seph’s ear, but everyone in the room besides (Y/N) heard the same thing, the message pulsing loud and clear inside their heads.

“I’ll make you wish you had never done that.”

He left the group huddling against one another in fright.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Hoseok smirked and kicked off the door, walking off with his hands in his pocket.

You stood, incredulous at what had just happened.

“Jimin.” You lay your hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide with expectation.

“Let’s go see your brother, we can get you some new clothes.” You said softly. He smiled serenely and nodded, dragging you to the door by the hand.

Before you could step out, however, he turned around to face them and glowered. “Clean this mess up.”

Seph whimpered and knelt down to pick up the bucket. The other girls scrambled to collect paper towels to dry the floor.

You watched them, trying to conjure up some form of sympathy. That could have been you, cowering beneath him. Moments ago, that was you.

Frighteningly enough, that familiar, heart-strengthening feeling made no appearance. There was no hatred, no remorse. You felt nothing as you were dragged away to the third floor.

Jimin knocked on the door to the student council room, smiling as he spotted his brother. Namjoon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hyung! I need a new uniform.”

He stepped back to let the two of you enter. Jimin released your hand and beelined for the atrium, grabbing a new shirt and a pair of pants. He then stepped into the bathroom and loudly shut the door.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” Namjoon looked down at you for a moment before his eyes flew up and he stared at the wall with newfound interest. “Feel free to grab a change of clothes as well.”

You followed his gaze and jumped at just how wet the front of your shirt had gotten. “Thanks,” you muttered, desperately hiding your blush.

I’m seriously finding myself back here too often.

You got another polo from the closet and left the door open as you changed, praying that Jimin wouldn’t leave the bathroom and that Namjoon wouldn’t walk around the corner. To keep him busy, you filled him in on what had happened moments before.

When you were finished, you stepped out into the main room with your wet shirt folded over your arm. Namjoon leaned against the wooden table with his arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone.

You glanced at Namjoon and thought back to the way he looked at the people around him.

It quickly dawned on you how bothered you were by Namjoon’s view of everyone around him as some sort of game.

He always wore an amused smile on his face: when he was looking at his mother in his family home, when he heard what Constance did to you, when he saw all of the students worrying over Chance, and whenever Aemilia and her antics were brought up.

He probably thought he was so clever at hiding it, at being the misfortunate yet accomplished gentleman that everyone perceived him to be, but you saw right through his act.

“The audacity they have to dare make such a ruckus on school property,” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t worry. They will surely receive proper punishment.”

You nodded, eyes glazing over with indifference.

You were too grateful that it was not you or Mana and too exhausted to be concerned with the affairs of other students.

They should have been prepared for this, at the very least. You were only worried about the well being of you and your loved ones.

Did that make you incredibly selfish? Did that make you just like...them?

A hot flash of anger rose in you and died as quickly as it had appeared.

Perhaps Namjoon’s act angered you because it was so similar to, no, better, than your own.

Your face twisted in response to your thoughts. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to pay you back. Tell Jimin I’ll see him in class,” you muttered and bowed then left, needing to separate yourself from them as soon as possible.

Namjoon watched you leave, intrigued by the sudden look of displeasure you wore. “...She noticed,” he chuckled to himself.

"She must not have liked it,” Jimin said as he walked out, fully changed. His hair was still a little wet, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of later.

Namjoon scoffed.

His little brother subsequently seized opportunity of your absence to explain to Namjoon just how delightful you looked in front of him.

“She looked as though she were about to beg, hyung. As gorgeous a sight as it was, those lower beings had the nerve to send her to her knees.” Jimin growled. “They terrified her, made her think I was going to hurt her.”

“What would you like to do with them?” Namjoon asked him as he leaned against the wooden table, a familiar smirk on his face.

By the end of homeroom, those girls were removed from your section. By the end of lunch, they had left your class and the school completely.

——————————————————————

The final bell rang and you lifted your head off your desk. You’d been trapped in your thoughts since earlier today, but your class schedule had given you no time to focus on your inner monologue.

Someone’s finger tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, directing your attention to them.

A freshman stood before you nervously and passed you a folded piece of paper.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

The kid nodded and scurried out of the classroom.

You unfolded the paper, reading the slightly disorganized handwriting.

You and me, (L/N). Show up alone. Rooftop. 4 pm.

You didn’t even need to ask the kid who it was from.

“This is the game you’re going to play?” You mumbled to yourself. “You still can’t even confront me face to face.”

Unfortunately for you, you already were alone. Mana never came to school today, as they had gone with their father to visit their grandmother at her nursing home, and Jimin was going to be in robotics club for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Then again, Brooklyn and Constance didn’t look like they were attached to Aemilia’s hip today either. The brunette spent all of lunch sending her a bunch of particularly nasty glares from across the cafeteria.

You eyed the clock. fiddling with your phone. After several minutes of deliberation, you opened it to text your mother that you would take yourself home today.

Let’s get this over with.

Approximately thirty minutes later, you shouldered your back pack on and made your way to the school staircase.

You texted Mana an update on where you were going and what you were going to do, just in case. After a second thought, you also texted Jimin.

They must not have had their phones on them because they didn’t text back immediately, so you locked yours and put it in your pocket.

When you finally arrived to the rooftop, you saw Aemilia standing near the edge, strawberry blonde ponytail swinging in the autumn breeze.

You already weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home several hours ago. Alas, you were here.

Your school rooftop was moderately large; appropriate, considering the size of the building. There was nothing up there but a few stacked, forlorn chairs, scattered materials, and blocks of concrete that functioned as storage spaces.

“What do you want, Aemilia?” You asked tiredly.

She didn’t say anything, nor did she turn around. You walked a couple steps closer to her and stopped. “Hello?”

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/N)?” She asked, her back still facing you.

You squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy taking everything away from me? Everything that I deemed mine?” Aemilia finally turned to face you.

On the outside, she looked no different than she had a couple of days ago, but her eyes seemed...hollow.

“I didn’t take anything from you.” You pointed out. “Though, it sounds like you finally realized how skilled you are at pushing people away from you. That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to my face.” She croaked out a laugh. “Don’t you dare claim that you haven’t stolen anything of mine.”

Her gaze turned malicious. “I thought you’d be a bug. Small, easy to crush. I wanted to make you even more insignificant than you already were. Unidentifiable.”

“But the harder I tried, the more I failed to crush you. I wanted to rub you into the dirt, but you kept on escaping unblemished.” She gazed in bored ire at her own two hands as though there was something on them that only she could see.

“So I realized, if I can’t crush you, then I’ll just have to destroy you. Completely.”

Foreign hands grabbed your arms with a vice and you started, immediately fighting to pry them off.

“Are you fucking serious? What are you doing?” You voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Had your greatest fear finally come true? Were the Kims actually going to make an example of you?

“I’m simply executing my right as an Augustus. I am removing anyone who is a threat to the Kim’s empire. My future empire.” She calmly remarked, nodding tonce o whoever was behind you.

No. She was doing this for her own purpose. Her sense of order, of what was right in the world.

“Aemilia! You can’t do this!” Your voice raised in pitch and your breathing increased, your blood pumping faster and faster by the second. The hands on your arms were growing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, (Y/N). I tried to warn you several times. You didn’t listen.” She chided with false disappointment. “You did this to yourself.”

“Are you scared? Have you now realized your wrong doing? What a shame.” You watched in horror as a deranged smile crept its way onto her face and Aemilia threw her head back in laughter. “It’s already too late!”

There was no time for her descent into madness.

You stilled for just a second, then rocked your head back and successfully slammed it into your captor’s. There was a low grunt from behind you and the person let you go. You took off without a second thought.

You didn’t even bother trying the school door, as you knew it would be blocked.

Instead, you ran past Aemilia, shoving her aside as hard as you could, in the direction of the roof’s edge.

The strawberry blonde fell, but her laughter didn’t pause--if anything, it only rose in volume.

You realized the person had regained control of themself, as they came barreling after you.

Yet you also knew that one floor below you, there was a balcony informally used by all the students as a multipurpose space. To your knowledge, it consisted of old blankets and furniture.

I’d rather take my chances with an old table or couch than these bastards, you thought as you ran towards the eaves.

The closer you got, the harder your heart beat in your chest. You were terrified. But somehow, under all the fear, you were able to rationally think and suppress your fears.

You willed yourself to keep running and, before you could think about it, threw yourself over the edge.

You were in the air for about three seconds before your captor grabbed you by the jacket and stopped your descent. With surprising strength, they yanked you up and backward, tackling you to the floor.

Your body met the concrete with a harsh slam and you yelled out in pain. Hopefully, you had received nothing other than a few nasty bruises.

Aemilia’s laughter had quieted by now and she stood on her feet. She brushed her clothes off with a pleased grin.

“Nice try, sweetie. Mr. Byun, why don’t you give dear (Y/N) here a reminder on what happens should she mess with the Augustus family?” She crooned.

Your captor pinned your hands behind your back and shifted so that they were kneeling on your arms, bones digging into your back. He grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head repeatedly into the concrete.

It hurt.

It hurt more than when you sprained your ankle that one time walking to a monthly meeting and had to continue walking on it for the rest of the evening.

It hurt more than when your mother healed a particularly deep cut of yours by stitching it up herself because she couldn’t afford to take you to the hospital.

It hurt more than seeing your mother’s face whenever you asked about your father.

Everything hurt.

You couldn’t even cry out in pain as it would take up too much of your effort, effort that you didn’t have to spare.

“Thus, I declare myself the victor of our little battle of wills.” Aemilia chirped, not at all disturbed by the violence occurring in front of her.

There was something hot running down your forehead. After a couple of blinks, red crept into your eyes, falling down your face with your tears.

“Your pride’s going to be the death of you.” You choked out, then winced as the Mr. Byun kicked you harshly in the stomach.

“Should my time arrive, at least I will go out in a blaze of glory.” She said brazenly, beaming with triumph. As she bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, her strawberry blonde hair turned a shocking red.

You blinked blood out of your eyes and squinted up at Aemilia, not that it helped as your blurry vision kept her form shifting in and out of focus.

“Yet I can’t say the same for you.”

Then the grip in your hair tightened and your face met concrete for the last time, your entire world going dark.

Halfway across the campus, Kim Jimin turned his phone on and felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on your text message.

——————————————————————

hey y’all! whew this is a long one--i’m sorry for taking longer than normal to update! thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and love! i adore reading your theories and comments :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think will happen next~

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze

#yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere kim namjoon #yandere kim taehyung #yandere kim seokjin #yandere jung hoseok #yandere min yoongi #Yandere jeon jungkook #yandere park jimin #yandere ot7 x reader #yandere x reader #yandere high school #high school au #bts cult au #supernatural #supernatural creature au #yandere jhope #yandere rm #yandere v x reader

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

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Seeing Ghosts

Read Seeing Ghosts on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 12 - Second Chance

For as long as she could remember, Marinette could see ghosts. It wasn't always the ghosts of strangers, though. Her ghost encounters started small. When Marinette was four years old, her parents told her that the family cat, Tikki, had left to live in the countryside. Marinette didn't understand, because Tikki still lived with them. Tikki still meowed for pets, still purred when Marinette pet her, still played with her favorite toy, the laser pointer that Marinette got for her last birthday. It wasn't until two weeks later, that Tom and Sabine sat Marinette down and explained to her that Tikki had died, that she needed to stop pretending that she was still there. Marinette was confused until she saw the way Tikki's paws batted right through her toys, the way she never ate the scraps that Marinette dropped on the floor. Marinette knew two things for sure: Tikki was dead and Marinette could still see her ghost.

For years and years, Tikki was the only ghost that Marinette saw. Then Marinette turned fourteen and Marinette could suddenly see.

They haunted the corners of her eyes, lurking in her periphery. They were just shadows, phantoms until Marinette focused her eyes, and then she could see them clear as day. Ghosts were real and Marinette could see them. Ghosts were real and they were everywhere, an inescapable reality for Marinette.

Quickly, the ghosts learned that Marinette could see them. They followed her around, lingering at the edge of her sight. She could hear them too, little whispers about the baker's daughter, the only person who could see them. However, none of the ghosts were bold enough to approach her. That was the status quo, until one day when Marinette came home from school one day to a ghost lurking in her room.

Marinette gasped as she saw the ghost sitting in the chair at her desk, staring at her with knowing blue eyes. He was her age, which made his brutal injuries all the more horrific to look at. His skull was caved in. His chest was mangled. His skin was shredded and burned. He had been beaten to death, tortured in his final moments.

"I've been told that you can see ghosts," the boy remarked, ignoring Marinette's shock entirely. He spoke in English instead of French, luckily Marinette's class had been learning both languages, so she was able to understand.

Marinette nodded, her throat suddenly unable to get a word out.

"You can hear ghosts, too. Can you bring them back to life?"

Marinette shook her head, clearing her throat as she began to speak in English, "I've never tried, but I don't think so."

"Could you try? For me?" pleaded the boy, the desperation in his expression breaking Marinette's heart.

"I don't even know you," said Marinette, trying to find a way to gently let the boy down. Seeing ghosts was one thing; bringing them back to life was another thing entirely.

"I'm Jason Todd." Jason stuck out his hand and Marinette tentatively shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It wasn't until Marinette pulled her hand back that she realized that his hand - and now her's - was covered in blood. With a shriek of surprise, Marinette stumbled backward away from Jason. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What did you do?"

"This has never happened before. Somehow my touch turned you corporeal enough for the blood on your hand to transfer to mine."

Jason glanced down at his hands. "Your fingers left prints in the blood. I've spent hours trying to wash the blood away for months, and you managed to do it by accident."

Marinette stared at her hands, the realization sinking in. Jason Todd was dead and his blood was on her hands. In the blink of an eye, Marinette was running to the bathroom to throw up. She thought she would be able to handle looking at the injuries of the dead, but Jason's wounds suddenly felt personal. Someone beat him to death, beat him until his bones broke and his skull caved him. Marinette heaved into the toilet, unable to cope with the violence of Jason's death.

When Marinette finally lifted her head, she saw Jason lingering at the door, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I know that this is pretty graphic to look at." Jason gestured towards himself.

Marinette shook her head. "You don't have to apologize." After rinsing her mouth out until the taste of vomit was gone, Marinette turned to Jason. "Come here."

Jason approached her at the sink. With the water still running, Marinette took his hands and held them underneath the water. They both watched as the water turned red, then pink, then ran clear as all of the blood washed off Jason's hands. "Thank you," Jason whispered.

Marinette took a deep breath. "I can't make any promises, but I will do my best to bring you back."

Bringing the ghost of a human boy back to life seemed like an impossible task, so Marinette started small: with Tikki the ghost cat. It took two weeks of experimentation before Marinette realized that with enough meditation she could funnel some of her energy into Tikki's ghost. With Jason to help her take notes, Marinette began to figure out the ins-and-outs of resurrection.

The most difficult part was figuring out exactly how much energy Marinette could expend before it took a toll on her physical health. The very first time she gave Tikki energy, Marinette woke up the next morning with bruises littering her body. Tom and Sabine took Marinette to the doctor's where she was diagnosed with anemia and prescribed iron supplements. Jason was so concerned about Marinette's well-being that he refused to let her give any more energy away before she had returned to her full health.

A few weeks after the initial mishap Marinette got back on track. Every morning she would push just a little bit of energy into Tikki. Little by little, Tikki turned from specter to physical being. Then, one morning, as Marinette pushed energy into Tikki, she felt her energy hit a wall. At the same time, Marinette felt Tikki's fur under her hand for the first time in ten years.

"You brought her back!" Jason exclaimed.

Marinette let out a whoop of joy, scaring Tikki, who jumped out of Marinette's lap with a startled meow. Marinette grabbed Tikki back up, able to properly hug her beloved pet for the first time in ten years. "I've got to go show Tikki to my parents. I'm going to tell them that I found her outside."

"You'll need to give her a new name," said Jason. "Might I suggest Alfred."

Tom and Sabine were surprised, which was to be expected. After all, it wasn't every day that their daughter found a doppelgänger of their dead cat in the alley behind the bakery. However, they were quick to rationalize the event, shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. Alfred became a beloved new member of the family.

After her success with Alfred neé Tikki, Marinette turned her attention to Jason. Their very first attempt took place in Marinette's bedroom. Marinette and Jason sat down cross-legged on the floor. Marinette placed her hands on top of Jason's and concentrated. She felt the life force within herself and pressed it forward, through her hands and into his.

"I can feel it," whispered Jason, "I've never felt anything like it before. It's so warm."

The awe in Jason's voice made Marinette feel warm inside as well. "I'm going to start with just a little bit of energy. I don't know how transferring energy to a human will differ from transferring energy to a cat, and I don't want to burn myself out on the very first transfer."

"Do this at whatever pace you need. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marinette smiled with his reassurance. She took a deep breath, and let the energy flow out of her. When she finally finished, cutting off the flow, she looked back up at Jason and gasped. Jason's broken finger, which had bothered him for weeks, had straightened out. The cut on his collarbone had closed shut. The bruise on his cheekbone had faded. His wounds were already starting to heal.

Quickly, Marinette and Jason fell into a routine. Every day after school they would sit down in the back corner of the bakery and Marinette (under the guise of doing her homework) would push more of her life energy into him. It was a slow process. Though Marinette often wished to give Jason just a little more energy every day, to speed up the process, she was constantly aware of the fact that Jason would fuss over her and stop the transfer of energy entirely if he saw any sign of pain or exhaustion on her.

In the months that Marinette had known Jason, he had grown protective over her. Marinette spent most of her time with Jason. He slept in her room on the little couch in the corner, followed her to school, and wore the clothes that she designed for her. Jason changing his clothes was an incredibly embarrassing affair, as the only way for him to be corporeal enough to touch the clothes was for Marinette to be touching him while he did it, leading to averted eyes and blushing on the part of both Marinette and Jason (but it was worth it for Marinette, to saw Jason's relieved smile when he realized that he never had to see the blood-stained clothes that he died in again).

In total, it took eight months from the day that Marinette met Jason to the day that Marinette brought Jason back to life. It started as an uneventful morning. Marinette woke up to her alarm, grumbling as she got ready about how it was inhumane to make teenagers wake up so early. She made herself a coffee while chatting to Jason. They walked to school together, Marinette dodging through the crowded sidewalk while Jason moved straight through people with ease. Marinette got to her desk at school and took a seat next to Alya. Luckily the seat behind Marinette was empty, so Jason sat there when he followed Marinette to school.

Marinette had asked Jason before if it bothered him that he was unable to participate with the rest of the class since they could neither see nor hear him. Jason claimed that he didn't mind. Despite that, if Jason ever whispered comments or questions about the lesson into Marinette's ear, she always made sure to ask the teacher, even if she already knew the answer.

Sitting in on lessons had the additional benefit of teaching Jason French. Marinette did her best to teach him the basics, but immersion was the best teacher - after eight months of hearing and speaking only French, Jason was fluent in the language. Marinette often praised him for his quick learning, which was how she learned that Jason was prone to blushing when he was complimented. Jason always grumbled when Marinette pointed it out, but Marinette found it adorable.

Once school was over on that fateful day, Marinette and Jason walked home together. Marinette set her backpack down at her usual table, sat down, and got to work. It had become an easy routine: put in her headphones and play some calming music, find a quiet place within her brain, and focus on the feeling of energy welling up inside of her. Then take Jason's hands, concentrate on that energy, and push it through her arms and into him. Controlling the direction of the energy was easy - it was controlling the rate that was the difficult part. It moved slowly at first, then all at once it flowed faster than Marinette can control, and it was a race to slow it down before it could all drain out of her.

That day, however, just as the energy started to speed up, the flow of energy abruptly cut off before Marinette even had the chance to react.

"Why did it stop?" asked Jason, looking confused.

The day had been so long coming that Marinette could hardly believe what had happened. "I have nothing left to give you. You're alive again, Jason."

Jason stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you sure?"

"I'll go test it." Marinette jumped out of her seat and raced towards the front of the bakery, heading for Tom, who was behind the counter. "Papa, can I get a plate of macaroons for me and my friend?"

Tom glanced over at Jason. "Who is he? I don't think I've ever seen him here before."

"He's a foreign exchange student," Marinette lied easily. "His name is Jason."

"Here's a plate for you and Jason." Tom handed her a plate, piled high with macaroons and other sweets.

"I might take Jason and show him around Paris, once we finish our homework. Is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Of course," chirped Marinette. She made her way back to her table with a bounce in her step. "My papa could see you. You're real."

In that moment, Jason looked lost. He glanced down at his hands, flesh and blood once more. "What do I do now?"

"You're alive again. You can do whatever you want."

Jason took a deep breath. "I've been gone from this world for so long. I want to go home."

Marinette tried not to let the fact that her heart was breaking show on her face. "I have enough birthday money saved up to buy you a plane ticket. You might have trouble getting on a plane without any identification, but I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

For a moment, Jason looked upset. Then, Marinette saw on his face as a realization dawned on him. "I didn't mean alone. Marinette, I want you to come with me."

There was no sugar-coating it: Marinette's parents were going to kill her. The plane was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean and Marinette's phone was turned off. There was no way to check, but she was certain that her parents were already sending her frantic texts. By the time the plane landed in Gotham, Tom and Sabine would surely have already called the police.

Marinette could only hope that her and Jason's fake IDs would hold up against the Gotham Airport security officers. While seventeen-year-old Jason could easily pass for nineteen, the age listed on the fake ID for Jasper Townsend, Marinette was worried that she looked young enough to cause suspicion. The age on Marie Davis's ID needed to be eighteen in order to get Marinette onto the plane, so whether she liked it or not she had to look eighteen. Resigned to her lies, Marinette put on a heavy face of makeup and wore three-inch heels on the international flight. It was a little funny, in an ironic way, that her heels had one inch for each year she needed to make up for.

Marinette was still confused about how Jason managed to get them fake IDs in the first place. Jason just shrugged and said that he knew a guy who owed him a favor. It was a side of Jason that Marinette hadn't ever seen before, a side of him that she was deeply curious about.

They had gotten on the plane just as the sun was setting. Marinette had sent her parents one last text message, telling them that she might be a little late. It was the understatement of the century. Marinette had never lied to her parents like that before. All of her past lies had been little things - lying about the number of macaroons she ate, or how late she stayed up the night before - but never a lie about her personal safety. The guilt was killing Marinette. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jason placed his hand (flesh and blood) on Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I'm making you do this."

"I'm not sorry. I would never make you do it alone."

Marinette could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Jason as their plane landed in Gotham. "I'm assuming you know where we're going next. Should we rent a car?" she asked once they cleared security (miraculously, no one looked too closely at Marinette's feeble attempt at a disguise. Marinette was glad to switch out her heels for flats and wash off the makeup in the airport bathroom).

Jason shook his head. "We don't need to rent one. He always keeps a car at the airport just in case someone's flying in."

Marinette wasn't sure who he was supposed to be, but Jason had been reticent to share any information about his past, and Marinette wasn't going to pressure him. Jason had been beaten to death, after all. There was a lot of trauma in his past and Marinette wasn't going to force him to share it with her until he was ready.

Jason led her through to the VIP parking lot to a luxury black sedan. He reached underneath the car, feeling at the underside until he pulled out a key. "Bruce keeps a key taped to the underside."

"That seems... irresponsible." Marinette was delicate with her words. Jason had been tense since the plane landed, like a loaded gun. She didn't want to bring up anything that might set him off.

"He also has a tracker planted in the car," Jason remarked offhandedly.

Marinette rolled her eyes at that remark, unable to keep walking on eggshells around the topic of Jason's family. "Irresponsible and paranoid. That's an interesting combination."

Jason laughed. "Just wait until you meet Bruce in person. I promise you, none of what I could tell you about him would ever live up to the real deal."

They got into the car, Jason in the driver's seat and Marinette in the passenger's. Jason's driving was a little rusty at first (which was understandable, given that he hadn't driven in nearly a year), but by the time he got on the highway, it was like he never left the driver's seat.

"Do you think that your family will believe you when you tell them that I brought you back to life?" asked Marinette, her voice quiet. The closer she and Jason got to Jason's house, the more questions Marinette had. It had taken her weeks to rationalize the fact that she could see ghosts, and she was the one seeing them. She couldn't imagine how Jason's family would react.

"Bruce was the one who found my body. There wasn't any faking that. I think he'll believe you."

"We've never talked about what happened to you. I- Is it safe for you to go home?"

Jason nodded, eyes on the road as he pulled off the highway onto a winding road. "Bruce did everything he could to save me, but he was too late. I was there for the funeral. I watched him mourn. I think... I think the reason I never passed on was because he never got over my death, never stopped feeling guilty. I wanted to pass on. I wanted to tell Bruce that I didn't blame him. I went and found you so that you could pass on the message for me. But then, when you could touch me, when you took the time to wash the blood off of my hands, I realized that I might be able to tell Bruce myself. I realized that I could have a second chance. I realized how badly I wanted a second chance, because a second chance at life meant that I had a chance with you."

Marinette blushed, looking over at Jason. "You know that doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care if you were dead or alive."

With a snort of amusement, Jason said, "You might want to rephrase that."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I liked you before you were corporeal. Human or ghost, you're my friend, Jason, and that's never going to change."

"I know that, but I like being alive better. I like being able to hold your hand for real."

Before Marinette could say anything in reply, the car turned. Marinette was too shocked to speak when she saw the size of the house at the end of the driveway. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette."

Marinette got out of the car first, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that she looked presentable, even if no one would be looking at her once they saw the resurrected Jason. "Are you coming?"

Jason nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jason got out of the car and slipped his hand (flesh and blood) into Marinette's, and even though questions and doubts were swirling through Marinette's head in a whirlwind of anxiety, she knew that as long as she could hold Jason's hand, everything would be okay.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #jasonette #Jason Todd #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #MaribatMarch2021 #ghost jason todd #medium marinette dupain-cheng #ghosts au #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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