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1-800anklebully · 8 months

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Mood - Trent Alexander Arnold x black female reader part 3

Summary: In which you and Trent were sneaky links at one point in life and he got sick of you. You’ve now returned back to Liverpool and old feelings resurface.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Asshole!Trent, swearing, smut if you squint a little, Toxic!Trent. And probably many things that I can’t think off the top of my head.

Excuse any errors.

“Trent don’t be rude, aren’t you going to greet Y/n properly.” His mother scolded him, stepping closer to mostly likely pinch some manners into him.

However he was smart and quick enough to know what her aim was so he bolted over to your side. He sent his brothers a vexed glanced before he glanced down at your 5’5 frame.

“Hello Y/n.” Trent says nonchalantly, no ounce of joy or excitement was in his tone which made you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

His long arms pulled you into his chest and he hugged you, allowing you to get a sniff of his cologne which smelled wonderful.

You could’ve sworn that you could stay in his warm muscular arms forever if only he wasn’t such a jerk.

The hug lasted for a good 50 seconds until he cleared his throat moving away, and on your deceased pets life you saw a glimpse of his tanned face and his cheeks were flustered.

Before anyone could call him out on his rosy cheeks or how long the hug lasted. He had quickly blurted out the first thing on his mind.

Anything to just get the fixated attention of him. Trent felt all hot and bothered, since when was your backside big like that especially in that dress.

“Well the food is most certainly going to turn cold if we just stand here. Come on everyone.” Trent began ushering his family, into the dining area and they all followed wordlessly.

Accept for his brothers who glanced at each other snickering like little boys, at Trent’s antics.

“You were mesmerised by the bunda huh.” Marcel childishly remarked, stopping his journey to the kitchen area. Tyler also couldn’t help but smirk at his younger bothers face.

He got caught red handed and wanted to deny it. Respectfully, Y/n was a pretty girl and Tyler viewed her as a little sister. Although he would admit that she had grown into her grown woman body and he was here for it.

“I wasn’t even looking but would you get in there.” Grabbing poor Marcel by his neck, Trent pushed him into the kitchen causing Tyler to do the same to Trent.

The Alexander- Arnold were truely a bad trio indeed.

︱︱︱︱

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I can’t go back down there again he hates my guts.” You were currently upstairs in Agnes room helping her fix her curly hair up.

Today she had decided that she wanted a new look; so she insisted on you straightening her hair as she would usually get Marcel to, paying him 50 bucks as he would bribe her.

But then she figured why waste money when you’re here. You know how to deal with all sorts of hair especially black woman here.

“Girl, you’re just exaggerating. He doesn’t hate you, sure he’s pissed. But he can’t hate you:” Agnes says from her phone as she texted her boyfriend; whom was devastated that he couldn’t make an appearance.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you should’ve have seen his face when he was hugging you. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. Why? Because he didn’t expect your booty to be that big. He was checking you out.” Agnes blurted out not caring and your face dropped almost burning her with the iron.

She screamed loudly; jolting away from the straighter and you apologised profusely for damn near almost burning her forehead.

“Girl what’s wrong with you almost burnt me?!” She yelled shoving you back, causing you to stumble and bump into the counter wincing.

“I’m sorry. It’s just why would you say some shit like that knowing damn well I was straightening your hair.” You argued back while finishing off her hair; then turning off the straighter.

Unpluggung it, you wrapped up the cord putting it in the cabinet below. Then all of a sudden you were yanked by your hand downstairs with Agnes leading the way.

Everyone was chatting about whatever and Y/n seized the opportunity to go into the cabinet and set up the tables. While Agnes helped her mother with the food.

“Uh why aren’t you guys helping Y/n. I thought I raised you guys better than this. Trent go help her.” Mr Arnold said pointing at his son and Trent surpassed the urge to roll his eyes at this.

All these men in the room, and out of all of them he chooses me unbelievable. He thought.

Instead of replying all he does is nod and goes into the cabinet,where he found Y/N she was texting to her friend about how overwhelmed she felt.

Turning around, she gasped once she caught a sight of her ex towering over her with a bland facial expression. As if he didn’t care what she was doing.

“I just need to get the utensils. So if you’ll excuse me.” You nodded your head rapidly moving to the side; as Trent stepped forward grabbing the plates.

The cabinet was big enough so you weren’t entirely fussed on the fact that you could smell his cologne which was marvellous. Not once did he make eye contact nor talk to you when you guys set up the table.

To him you were like a ghost, non existent therefore he didn’t feel the need to acknowledge your presence. Which was absurd because you had no beef with him at all.

If anything you wanted to talk about, and put it all aside he was just the one dragging it on for no reason.

Returning back to the table,finally once everything was done everyone had already taken their seats and the only seat left was one next Trent.

Tyler was on his right and I could visibly see him cackling to himself about the whole situation.

“Hey Agnes.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you think you can be a sweetheart and move one down-“

“Yeah no thank you. I’m already comfortable and my legs hurt from all that running.” She didn’t even glance up, and this made you scoff in annoyance.

This whole family knew damn well what they were doing, it was perfect set up as if they wanted you guys to sit next each other.

With no choice left you decided to suck it up and take your seat next to Trent whom pretended you weren’t even there.

“Now that that’s all settled. Let’s all bow our heads and thank the lord almighty for this food.” Mr Arnold insisted, and everyone bowed their heads down respectfully.

One thing about the Arnold family was they did not play about prayers, every single dinner they would give grace to the lord. It’s good to know that some things still remained the same.

While everyone was listening to Papa Arnold give grace, you couldn’t help but feel a overbearing gaze on you. Almost as if someone was staring you down.

So ultimately you opened your eyes, and there he was again staring at you blankly. He didn’t even bat an eye until the prayers was over, then he mumbled an “amen” and broke eye contact preparing his plate.

How odd. You thought to yourself, instantly everyone began digging in filling the plate to the brim as mama Dianne’s food never disappointed. You on the other hand, you lost your appetite.

It was gone, all you could was pick at the chicken that was on your plate. Meanwhile now majority of the family was halfway through the meal.

Y/n was still trying to gather herself together and Papa Arnold took notice to how glum she looked and he frowned.

“You alright baby doll, you haven’t touched your plate, since the beginning what’s up with that?” Papa Arnold pondered, while eating a mouthful of his rice and chicken. His wife and Trent’s siblings grumbled in agreement.

“Right you look so out of it.”

“If you want I’ll gladly take your leftovers anything for you my love.” Marcell joked, diving his slender fingers into your plate. However Trent acted out of instinct and slapped his hand causing him to wince.

“Don’t be rude Marcell. And please eat something so I don’t feel guilty.” Agnes whispered softly to you, in a pleading tone once everyone had resumed back to whatever they were doing.

And judging by the stoic and deadly look on Trent’s face, you obliged and ended up finishing up your entire plate with no fuss. By the time everyone was finished, you took the initiative to gather everyone’s dirty plates and wash them a little bit before placing them in the dish washer with the assistance of Agnes.

As soon as everything was tided up and the boys had all left to do their own thing, You took this as your cue to leave. Not wanting to be around the Arnold family, and this was only because you couldn’t stand that creature who was lurking in the background it was making you feel uneasy.

“Anyways mama Dianne, it was lovely see you and spent time with you all. But I think it’s best I call it night.” You announced with a soft grin. Instantly you were me with Dianna’s dejected face, and Agnes exasperated one.

“Are you serious right now…”

“Why’s that darling, I organised this so that we could spend solid girl time together, like old times.” Dianna expressed causing your stomach to cave in with guilt, the second she interlocked your hands together.

“I—“

“It’s because she’s scared of Trent. If you want me to sort him out, I won’t have a problem doing that.”

Your eyes widened at how serious and annoyed she seemed.” No! Please don’t, and I promise you that’s not the reason Agnes.”

“Quit lying to me girl, I’ve known you my whole life and I know when something is bothering you.I could see the way he was glaring holes into the side of your face. That boy still wants you.” Agnes voice gradually began to increase in tone, so you had to latch onto her bicep and ease her anger.

Because you didn’t want the whole family knowing how badly one person was affecting your mood.

“Is that so? Y/n if so, why didn’t you say anything.” Dianna frowned in disbelief at how much ruckus her son was creating behind her back.

She knew he was petty, but she didn’t think he was that petty to purposely make his ex sneaky link uncomfortable.

Sighing, you knew there was no getting out of this situation so you began to explain yourself with Agnes kissing her teeth every two seconds.

Little did you know that Trent never actually went upstairs and he was standing behind the wall connected to the kitchen; therefore they couldn’t see him.

However he did hear all the things that you said about him and he was deeply hurt that you thought that he was a bad guy.

When in reality, you’re the one that left him all alone in Liverpool 2 years no girlfriend, he couldn’t even eat for months just feeling sick to his core that you just abandoned him like that.

So for you to running around acting clueless, as to why he was treating you the way he was treating was irking something inside of him.

Finally, the conversation between his mother and Agnes had wrapped and up they began to walk you to front door.

Panicking, Trent attempted to jog up the stairs however his pace was a little to slow because his sister caught him.

“Trent! Since you wanna be so noisy do you mind walking Y/n out? While I go pack stuff for her and I?” Surprisingly, Trent didn’t protest and he just nodded his head walking to the door and opening it.

He tuned out his sister and mother saying their goodbyes, just standing there patiently with his hands in his joggers due to how cold it was outside.

Flashing them a quick grin, You jogged up to Trent who just glanced up and began walking by the direction of Agnes car which was parked a couple of cars down.

The whole time he didn’t say anything instead just scrolling through his phone, and you just about had enough of his odd behaviour. You needed answers and you need them now.

“Do we have a problem?”

This inquiry seem to get his attention, as his eyes finally gazed up into yours with confusion, almost resembling a lost puppy.

“When did I say that?”

“It’s not what you said it’s how you’re acting Trent. If you have a problem say it, and I want all your problems so please enlighten me, because I’m sick of your shit.” You blankly told him,and he eyed you with wide eyes not expecting you to jump straight to the point.

This caught him off guard as he was not sure how to reply back instantly.

“I don’t have a problem with you Y/n. What makes you say that.” He says innocently while furrowing his eyebrows together. You see now he was trying to make you seem stupid.

That’s one thing you don’t like, is when someone tries to make it seem like it’s all in your head when they’re the one causing the dilemma.

“It’s so obvious Trent. You don’t want me here you could see it all over your face, every time I spoke it was like a demon speaking you kept tutting your head or rolling your eyes.” You noted everything down, that he did the whole dinner and he finally let his guard down.

“Okay maybe I didn’t want you there and what?! We broke up for a reason, just because you came down to Liverpool doesn’t mean you have to come see my family. You barge into the door like everything’s okay well it’s not Y/N. We’re not together anymore and the sooner you accept it will be better. We’re not getting back to together,so this little plan that you created to creep back into my life is over, and you need to stop it!” He snapped, chest heaving up and down with fury.

And you almost felt like a small child getting scolded by their parent by the way he just yelled at you. This was the most angriest and harsh he had ever treated you. Sure you would get into arguments when you guys were seeing each other, but he never ever dared to raise his voice at you. Up until now.

Gulping, you swallowed down the huge lump that formed in your throat. Fighting back your tears, you bit down on your lip and just chuckled dryly.

“Way to be so harsh Alexander.” His face scrunched up in regret, the second he heard you let out a sniffle. You weren’t crying because of him raising his voice at you.

You were a big girl. You could handle that. It was the fact that he was so dismissive and rude that it made you so upset. Trent did not want to hear a word you said.

“Y/n.” He reached out to touch you, however you’re quicker and you smack his hand off you with all your strength.

“Save it. Go inside if you’re gone be an arse I don’t wanna hear it.” Grabbing Agnes car keys, you unlocked her Kia and slammed the door shut locking it so he wouldn’t come inside.

And Trent didn’t fight it. Instead remorseful and ashamed with his actions, he headed back inside with his head down dejected at what he had just went down.

“Hey where’s Y/n?”

“She’s in the car waiting for you.”

Trenr didn’t give her a chance to respond, he was already upstairs and slamming the door to his room and he collapsed on his bed face first.

All he could think was.

What had I done now.

And that’s wrap. I’m actually so sorry that I took so long to complete this I will admit I lost all motivations. But it’s here now and that’s all that matters.

Words can’t describe how badly I want to fly kick Trent for doing my girl Y/n like that. Like she didn’t do a damn thing.

What are y’all thoughts?

I hope you all enjoyed it and I’ll see you in the next part! 🤍🤍🤍

#black girl reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #football imagines #fluff #light angst #trent alexander x you #football

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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fukae-flwr · 2 months

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Stained Hearts & Dark Desires

Chapter 4: New Looks

Summary: Glimpse into the past shows a little what this temporary cure is. Edith collects emotions and prepares to run errands

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: self-inflicted magic pain, selfwell-being neglect,

Chapter 5

Ratings: MATURE 18+ (NO MINORS)

~Before the 7th year~

“Edith?” Anne called out from up above. Edith quickly raced up the stairs, making sure to close the basement doors behind her. Coming up to the surface, Edith walked around her growing garden that surrounded the stone cottage. Right in front of the wooden door was Anne dressed in her usual. She appeared much healthier now, less pale, and gaining some weight. It was wonderful to know she was finally getting better.

“Anne! Glad you made it. I can’t wait to show you what I've got for you.” Edith practically bounced in place with excitement.

“Gallopin gorgons, Edith! Have you slept at all!?” Anne panicked, pulling Edith closer to examine her more closely. Edith crinkled her nose as she thought of the last time she ate and slept.

“The fact it is taking you so long to recall speaks volumes.”

“I had important things to do. I’ll take a nap later.” Edith kindly shrugged her off. She couldn’t have looked that bad. Anne was just a worrywort.

“No. We are going into your house so you can sit down and relax for a moment.” Anne put her foot down like a mother hen. Edith knew better than to fight her on it, plus seeing Anne become this confident, strong-willed person was amazing. She could only assume this used to be how Anne normally was before everything. It wasn’t often, but it was slowly coming back.

“Fine, but I still want to talk about your progress.” Edith gave in and began to walk into the house. It was a cute stone cottage Edith bought just outside Pit-Upon-Ford. The cottage was just outside the hamlet but still close enough to be deemed part of it. The location was perfect; close to the forbidden forest to encounter dark wizards and far enough to not draw too much attention to herself. Exactly what she needed.

“Now sit. I’ll make tea.” Anne gestured to the long wooden table on the left-hand side of the door with two benches on either side. Edith quietly cast a spell to start up the fire in the dark fireplace across from the table. It was where she cooked, brewed potions, and stayed warm on cold nights. Anne was in the small so-called “kitchen”. It was the area next to the wooden stairs that consisted of cabinets and counter space. Edith hung most of her dried things there, such as herbs and jerky. Anne had been here plenty of times to know where she kept all her teas.

“Shouldn’t I be making the tea for you, my guest?” Edith rested her chin on her hand as Anne moved about like she owned the place.

“Let me, please. You’re this haggard because of me; this is the least I can do.” Anne spoke so softly, her meek personality resurfacing.

“Anne. You know that’s not true.” Edith began to rise to comfort her but was immediately halted from one stern look from her. Surrendering, she sat back down with a soft smile.

“I know you’re not doing it for me, but still. I want to help you in return, so let me do this.” Anne smiled and continued to prepare the kettle for tea. Edith couldn’t say much in return for that. Anne wasn’t entirely right, but wasn’t entirely wrong either. She wanted to help Anne because she cared about Anne, at least she did now, after having gotten to know her. The real reason she started to cure Anne, however, was solely for them. She wanted them to be happy, and their happiness included her. She had seen how much pain they had been in due to Anne’s curse. After everything, she was no better than Isidora.

“Well, you do make better tea than I do, so I guess I'll accept. Practically forcing it down my throat.” Edith grinned, feigning indifference.

“So what discoveries were you so excited to tell me about?” Immediately, Edith brightened at her reminder. She quite literally began to bounce in her seat.

“Right! Did you bring the locket?”

“Of course. You told me to never take it off.” Anne gave Edith an unimpressed look as she passed her to place the kettle over the fire on the hook.

“Yes, and that remains true. You can never take it off until I find a real cure.” Edith pointed at her, impersonating an authoritative figure the best she could. The only ones coming to her mind were the professors at Hogwarts.

Once the kettle was left to boil, Anne sat across from Edith at the table and pulled out a large silver oval locket from her scarf. The chain was thick while the pendant was very heavy and obvious for lack of better words. It matched appearances with the large empty respository under the school, only much smaller. The locket radiated with red ancient magic; it wasn’t overflowing, but small traces circled the pendant. Only Edith could see the traces, but it still wasn’t safe for the locket to be so visible. It needed to be smaller to be more easily hidden.

“There shouldn’t have been any issues, but anything to report?” Edith questioned as she examined the locket. It was a shabby piece of jewelry, not very pretty. She just needed something quick and big enough to hold a lot of magic at the time. She found someone who could take the goblin metal she collected and turn it into a necklace, no questions asked. To them, it was just some strange piece of jewelry made from goblin metal. But to her, it was exactly the thing she needed to create a mini repository with.

“It’s heavy, but if you mean the pain caused by the curse, then the locket has been working well. I hardly feel the pain. I get a few waves of body aches. Sometimes I feel like I have to sit for a moment, but then I’m fine an hour later.”

"But you still feel it." Edith bit her lip as she pulled out her wand. That needed to be improved on. She quickly conjured a quill and paper to take notes.

"Only faint whispers of it, like a cramp. It's much better than it was, Edith." Anne quickly explained, her voiced lace with concern. Anne may have accepted the locket as it was now, but Edith didn't. It needed work.

“Any feelings of losing yourself, emotionlessness?” Edith always checked, paranoid she might’ve miscalculated something, and Anne would wake up like Isidora’s father.

“None. I feel more myself than ever with every day that passes.” Edith released the small breath she had been holding. It was the same every visit, but it still eased her mind hearing it.

“Good. Well, I’ve improved the weight and capacity the locket can hold.” Edith beamed as she pulled out her new piece for Anne. It was a significantly smaller locket and much more fashionable for any occasion. The chain was much thinner for more comfortable wear, and the pendant was an oval-shaped locket magically wrapped by a golden snake. The snake was enchanted by herself, only opening to her magic; a security measure so it couldn’t be opened unless it was by her. Edith specifically chose the design to represent the two houses dear to her, Slytherin, and her own house, Hufflepuff.

“It’s beautiful, but will it hold enough with how tiny it is?” Anne gasped as she took it in her hands. Edith flicked her wand so all the window curtains would draw close simultaneously. She had to be sure no one just happened to witness something they shouldn’t. Not many people came to where her house was, but still, it's better to be safe than sorry.

“Despite its size, it's way more capable than the one you’re currently wearing. It’ll hold much more for longer, and it won’t weigh you down as much. Those whispers of pain shouldn't be a thing, but I'll check next time. We will still need to do monthly visits. Also, I still recommend not showing it off, but if you do, at least now it’s pretty to look at.” Edith explained as she mentally readied herself for what was about to happen. She felt like she had to psych herself up every time.

“Are you sure you able do this? You look really tired. You’re supposed to be relaxing!” Anne tried to convince Edith. Anne hated this way more than Edith did, and she was the one performing the spell. Anne always tried to persuade Edith not to perform it; she usually said something along the lines of it being her curse to deal with, and Edith shouldn’t be putting herself through this. It was heartwarming to know she cared.

“I’ll relax after. Better to get it over with than procrastinate, kinda like studying for finals.” Edith joked as she sat up straight. Anne seemed unconvinced yet said nothing.

Edith focused on the old locket, digging deep inside herself for the magic she was looking for. As if hearing its name being called, the magic inside her pulsed to life. She could feel it begin to writhe inside her, thrashing around excitedly. It sent tingles coursing throughout her entire body, a warmth exploding inside her. It was powerful, excitedable, and ready to be used. It was addicting how incredible it felt and how it made her feel. She had to focus ,though, make sure the magic didn’t take over, and overwhelm her. Once she felt she had grasped the magic well, she pointed her wand at the old locket. The familiar red ancient magic shot down her arm, leaving goosebumps to blossom all over her body in its wake. It crawled out of her wand towards the locket, a leech drawn to warmth. The second it made contact, the locket sprang free, and ancient magic shot above their heads.

Anne couldn’t see the small chaotic cloud of black, red, and blue magic made from her pain, over their heads, but she could. It was like the mess of the destroyed repository under Hogwarts but on a much smaller scale. The cursed magic circled about seeming alive, looking for its host to enact its purpose.

Edith knew during this process Anne felt a hollow pit form inside her. It was evident in her face as her eyes clouded briefly. Her emotions, magic, and everything that made her who she was, had been temporarily separated. It needed to be returned quickly before disappearing. Edith quickly forced the dark magic, created by the curse, to separate from the emotions and pieces that made Anne who she was. With the violent magic separated, Edith quickly called the curse to herself with a pull of her wand, luring it with her much more powerful ancient magic. A sailor to a siren’s song, the curse quickly followed after and Edith absorbed it, just as she had done the time before.

Once she felt the curse secured inside her, she took what remained, and returned it to Anne’s chest. The clouds in Anne’s eyes dissipated and life shined in its place once more. Her skin even brightened up, and she sat up straighter. The last thing was to ensure the new locket would collect traces of the curse’s magic when it activated. To do so, Edith pointed her wand towards Anne’s chest and searched for the feeling of pain. It was faint but she could feel the curse’s magic still tightly clinging to Anne’s magic. If she had to describe the feeling, it was like sticking her hand in a warm cloud that was alive and ever-moving but then finding lightning inside, attacking everything in its wake. It was that lightning she was looking for.

Having found it, she carefully pulled a small piece of it out only for it to be drawn into the locket. The locket emulated what the curse was after, strong magic, allowing it to trap it inside without inflicting the pain it was meant to do on Anne. Unfortunately, that kind of magic had to go somewhere eventually, lest it go back to the original host. That would most definitely result in the pain being doubled than what it would have originally been.

“All..done!” Edith clapped her hands together, attempting to lighten the mood. There was always an awkward pause after performing the spell because they both knew what came next.

Edith, for now, felt great, amazing even. Anytime she absored magic, there was this sense of power and ephoria that can with it. At first, that is.

"Now...shall we have..tea?" Edith attempted to sound as uplifting as she had before performing the switch, but the curse was slowly starting to thrash in her. Her ancient magic had returned to its dormant state, but the curse remained trapped, needing to fulfill its purpose. It wasn’t that painful yet, just uncomfortable.

Anne just watched her cautiously. She always had this sad guilty look to her. It was very endearing yet unpleasant. If Edith didn't want to do this, she wouldnt have. Plus it was too late to stop now; they both knew this when they put the first locket on Anne.

“D..Do you..like the design?” Edith tried to breathe through the rising pain, keeping up the facade that she was fine. She was. This was only temporary. The curse would eventually do what it was made for, and then pass. So, yes, she was fine; she was going to be fine, like always. Her magic always recovered eventually, thanks to her ancient magic.

“Of course, but are you alright?” Anne quickly rose moving towards Edith, fully aware of what was gearing up inside her. Edith tried to nod, but everything became blurred as a searing white hot pain shot throughout her body. It felt like her inside had been enginted by fire, while her head throbbed. The pain Anne would have felt every day for a month from the curse just ripped through Edith’s entire body all at once. It was why she preferred to cleanse Anne’s locket once a month. The longer they waited, the more pain she’d have to absorb once they finally emptied the locket. She learned that the hard way when she first created the locket.

She did her best to suppress the painful cries but it was futile. Everything was hurting. Thankfully Edith didn’t have to endure it for much longer considering her consciousness faded as it always did. She knew she was in good hands, so she wasn’t too worried.

~ * ~

Edith had sat in her room, rereading the phrase over and over again. Half faced ashwinder. Half faced ashwinder. It didn’t make sense. Every ashwinder she had come across always concealed their face. It was either the top half with a wolf mask of some kind or a fabric cloth on the lower half with some beastly mouth print. Edith knew Anne was smart so this had to be a clue of some sort to help her. If it was something as simple as a skull or mask, Anne would’ve put something else, she hoped.

Edith needed to send an owl to an acquaintance who made it his job to keep updated on the happenings of the dark side of the wizarding world. That often meant going to Knockturn Alley to send an owl not her own, plus she had a few things she needed in Knockturn. Which meant having to face those two again.

It had been a couple of hours, and they had remained in the study upstairs. She hoped they were working through everything in there to find something she may have missed. She had gone through every piece in there at least three times last night and yet was pulling at straws. She didn’t have anything on this half-faced ashwinder. Most ashwinders served Rookwood and she made it her mission to get rid of them. With the Masked Wizard practically hunting them down, they made an effort to be nowhere near her anymore. Most of Rookwood’s people were dead or in Azkaban thanks to her. Any remaining were likely deep in hiding, fearful of her; all but one, apparently. She was going to make them pay for this.

Determined to find this scumbag, Edith quickly changed into something a little more appropriate so she wouldn’t stand out in Knockturn. She quickly pulled out her striped black collar jacket and skirt. She made sure to get her hat that covered a good portion of her hair. She wore her hair in a way where her black hair or her hat could hide her noticeable white hair. Once she was ready, she exited her room with her bag and wand.

She made her way up the stairs, taking a deep breath to lock down all her emotions before opening the study’s door. She found both men looking in her direction from where they sat. Ominis opted to sit on the couch under the window, while Sebastian sat comfortably on the floor. She briefly took in how relaxed their appearance was; Sebastian in his white shirt and suspenders while at least Ominis had his vest and tie already on.

Sebastian’s shirt did nothing to hide his distractingly muscular physique. Ominis' seemed to accentuate his form as well, showing how much they had grown since she had last seen them. Where Ominis had a more elegant yet dark appearance, Sebastian had this rugged, and dangerous appearance. Both being something she found begrudgingly attractive.

“You’re dressed for an outing,” Sebastian commented as he raised an eyebrow questioningly. Edith just flicked her gaze towards him, then looked back at Ominis.

“As I said earlier, I have things to do. I assume you’ll be accompanying me, Gaunt?” Edith adjusted her hat slightly, as a distraction for herself. Both of them rose immediately in response.

“And where is it we are going?”

“I’m coming too”

Ominis and Sebastian spoke at the same time. Edith let out an airy breath that could’ve been passed as a chuckle but was more in disbelief. Even after making it very clear he hated her guts, he still chose to follow her. She wanted space from him, and he didn’t want to be around her, so why was he insisting? Edith looked to Ominis and then back to him. Right, his lover was following the enemy into unknown territory. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, the unwanted jealousy.

“No. Three is too conspicuous. Someone needs to stay.” Edith stood her ground. She needed space from Sebastian. Both of them were too much to handle at this moment, especially Sebastian. She hoped he’d had enough of her too, and would do the sensible thing of staying.

“Three is suspicious? Tell me. Exactly where it is you’re going for a group of three to be deemed suspicious?” Sebastian interrogated stepping closer into her personal space. She stood her ground, refusing to be scared off by him.

“Knockturn Alley.” Edith shrugged casually. Sebastian and Ominis both tensed immediately at the mention of the well-known alley for dark magic. A place where the Ministry's dogs weren’t exactly welcomed, to put it kindly.

“Not happening.”

“Too bad. I need to go there.”

“You’re not taking Ominis to a place like that without me,” Sebastian growled, trying to intimidate her into giving up which he wasn’t doing. This was for Anne, and nothing was standing in her way, not even Sallow.

“You’d only draw more attention.”

“You’re not going.”

“I am going whether he comes or not. If I should die trying, then so does Anne.” Edith crossed her arms, undeterred. No matter how intimidating Sebastian had gotten, she was not relenting.

“Are you threatening me with my sister?!” Sebastian was practically inches from her at this point. Hell, she could smell him with how close he was, and it started to distract her. That familiar woods and fresh parchment smell filled her nostrils, flooding her mind with memories of times they had been close in their seventh year. Melancholy moments that once filled her with joy.

“Enough you two!” Ominis snapped, separating the both of them, “Must you egg him on, Edith?” Ominis frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Edith just huffed as she turned to pull out a polyjuice potion for him.

“I’ll be fine Sebastian. We need to continue looking for clues on Anne’s whereabouts. I assume this has something to do with that, right Edith?” Ominis warned, trying to calm down his protective partner.

“Yes. Yes. I need to send an owl to an acquaintance who may have some infomation for me.” Edith dismissed as she dug around her bag. She had increased the size so she could carry a great deal of things; it was finding said things that was the challenge sometimes.

“And you can’t send an owl here, because…?”

“I’m a dark wizard, Sallow. Can’t exactly use my owl for this kind of thing. Plus he doesn’t accept just any owl. He’s got himself to protect.” Edith reminded them. She sensed how uncomfortable they suddenly got by her making mention of her status in the wizarding world. They couldn’t have possibly forgotten that, right?

“Ah ha! Here you are, you little bugger!” Edith quietly exclaimed victoriously as she pulled out the small vial.

“And what is that?”

“Polyjuice potion. I make sure to have some on hand. Never know when you need to escape the Ministry’s deadly duo.” Edith smirked as she handed it to Ominis.

“Is that how you did it?” Sebastian crossed his arms crediously.

“One of the ways. Now drink up. I can’t be seen with an aurora. I’d lose all my credibility, not to mention my reputation would be destroyed.” Edith turned on her heels and began to walk down the steps to wait for him in the parlor.

Once he finally came down, Edith had to hold in her laughter. He was much smaller than usual with long brown hair tied into a low ponytail. He was now about an inch taller than her, almost the same height as her. His clothes hung on him loosely, closely mimicking a child wearing their parents’ clothes. Even Sebastian was getting a kick out of it.

“I’d like to point out a flaw in your plan, Edith. My clothes don’t fit.” Ominis declared, gesturing to the very baggy clothing. His voice was even different. Edith was grateful for it. His normal handsomeness was way too distracting. At least this way she could stay focused.

“I think you look great, Ominis. Real fun sized!”

“Careful, Sebastian. I could still very well beat your ass.”

“Right. Right.”

“Here.” Edith chuckled as she waved her wand and gave him more appropriately sized clothes. She gave him a simple black suit, on par with her own. Nothing nearly as high quality as what he had been wearing previously, but nothing so poor as to raise alarm either. It was to match her in some way to pass off they were partners in a way. A dark thinly striped collared jacket and slacks; along with an off white shirt, black tie and vest. It was perfect for blending in with more frequent patrons of Knockturn Alley.

“Now, your name is Ernest. You don’t talk, and everything will be fine.” Edith gestured to him. This would be fine. There really shouldn’t be any problems. It was just another day trip to Knockturn Alley.

“Ernest??”

“Who would ever name their child Ernest!?”

Ominis gawked dramatically while Sebastian just fought his growing amusement. Edith didn't know whether to laugh or sigh. Opting to ignore them, she began to walk towards the front door, when Sebastian grabbed her by the arm. Her arm suddenly lit up, sending chills up her arm and down her spine. She quickly turned to look at him, finding he was unbelievably close again. She couldn’t help the first thing she noticed was his lips. His very soft, full pink lips. Immediately she forced herself back to reality and looked up into his eyes. He was looking down on her to be menacing, yet her brain wasn’t comprehending it correctly. He held a serious expression, yet her brain was fighting off old desires she thought she killed.

“If you let anything happen to him…,” He started but Edith immediately interrupted.

“I won’t.” He didn’t need to ask her. She would never let anything happen to either of them. Fortunately for her, they didn’t realize how much of a weakness they were to her to this day. If they ever did, she feared they would be her undoing.

~♡~

( •̀ヮ•́)

So I'm not the most skilled writer. This is all for fun, so I hope you're enjoying it too!!! Also remember this is a ominis x Sebastian x Mc fanfic, with mostly the boys focus on mc. I will do my best to add enough Ominis x Sebastian moments but they have an established relationship already. So if you're here for that...sorry I will not do them the justice they deserve ♡♡

YOU. ARE. AMAZING!!

Have a good day

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alyssamonah · 6 months

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How to Find the Local Pros for Kitchen Cabinet Refacing Near Me?

Kitchen cabinet refacing can breathe new life into your kitchen space without the need for a full renovation. It's a cost-effective and eco-friendly way to give your kitchen a fresh and updated look. However, to ensure a successful cabinet refacing project, you'll need the expertise of local professionals who can do the job right. In this guide, we'll walk you through the steps to find the best local pros for kitchen cabinet refacing near you.

Start with a Local Search

Begin your search by using popular search engines or business directories. Type in keywords like "kitchen cabinet refacing near me" or "local cabinet refacing professionals." It will generate a list of businesses in your area that specialize in cabinet refacing.

Check Online Reviews

Online reviews can provide valuable insights into the quality of service provided by local professionals. Look for reviews on websites like Yelp, Google My Business, and Angie's List. Pay attention to both positive and negative feedback to get a balanced view.

Pro Tip: When reading reviews, focus on factors that matter most to you, such as the quality of work, punctuality, professionalism, and communication.

Ask for Recommendations

Don't underestimate the power of word-of-mouth recommendations. Ask friends, family members, neighbours, and coworkers if they've had their cabinets refaced recently and if they can recommend a local professional.

Visit Home Improvement Stores

Local home improvement stores often have bulletin boards or information about local contractors and professionals. Swing by these stores and see if there are any flyers or business cards from cabinet refacing experts.

Explore Social Media

Social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram can be useful for finding local professionals. Join local community groups or home improvement forums and ask for recommendations from fellow members.

Check Licensing and Insurance

Once you've identified a few potential pros, it's essential to verify their credentials. Check if they are licensed and insured. It ensures they have the necessary qualifications and coverage in case of accidents.

Request References

Don't hesitate to ask potential professionals for references from past clients. Contact these references to inquire about their experiences with the cabinet refacing expert. Ask about the quality of work, adherence to schedules, and overall satisfaction.

Compare Multiple Quotes

Contact at least three different professionals to get quotes for your cabinet refacing project. Be clear about your requirements and expectations. Comparing quotes will help you determine a reasonable price range for the service.

Discuss Materials and Design Options

Engage in detailed discussions with each professional about the materials they use and the design options available. Ask about the pros and cons of different materials and inquire if they can provide custom solutions to match your kitchen's aesthetics.

Inquire About the Timeline

Ask about the expected timeline for the project. Professionals should be able to provide you with a clear estimate of how long the cabinet refacing process will take, from start to finish.

Get a Written Contract

Before starting the project, ensure you have a written contract that outlines all the details, including the scope of work, materials to be used, project timeline, and costs. Read the contract carefully and ask for clarification if needed.

Check for Warranties

Reputable professionals often offer warranties on their work and materials. Make sure to understand the terms of the warranty and keep all related documentation in case you need it in the future.

Communicate Your Expectations

Effective communication is crucial to a successful cabinet refacing project. Clearly communicate your expectations, and don't hesitate to ask questions or seek updates throughout the project.

Monitor the Work

While the professionals work on your cabinet resurfacing project, periodically check the progress to ensure it aligns with your expectations and the agreed-upon plan.

Pay Attention to Clean-Up

After the project is complete, make sure the professionals clean up the work area thoroughly. You shouldn't be left with a mess to clean up.

Leave a Review

Once the project is successfully completed, consider leaving a review to help others in your community find reliable local pros for cabinet refacing.

Conclusion

Finding the right local professionals for your kitchen cabinet refacing project near you requires a bit of research and due diligence. Following the steps outlined in this guide can increase your chances of selecting a skilled and trustworthy expert to transform your kitchen and enhance its beauty and functionality. Remember that investing time in finding the right professionals can lead to a satisfying and rewarding cabinet-refacing experience.

#cupboard resurfacing #cabinet resurfacing manly #cabinet resurfacing mosman #cabinet resurfacing castlehill

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sellmyhousefastforcash2 · 2 years

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10 Tips To Sell Your House Fast for Cash!

Even in a seller's market, when there is little inventory and bidding wars are frequent, it's still worth investing some time and effort in gaining an edge over the competition. The process of selling your home can vary, depending on the area in which you live. You may need to consult with a real estate agent who is familiar with the market where your home is located. Additionally, You may also want to spend some money making renovations and improvements to attract buyers and increase your asking price. Here are 10 tips, straight from Realtors, on how to make your home stand out amongst the competition and sell for more money.

1. Find a reputable real estate agent.

Working with a professional real estate agent who knows your neighborhood well can help you Sell My House ASAP for Cash and for more money. In fact, according to data from the National Association of Realtors, homes listed without the aid of a Realtor sold for a median price of $260,000 in 2021. Before deciding on one agent, speak to several prospects — the better you get along together, the easier everything will go.

2. Invest in value-added improvements.

If you're unsure of which home improvements to make, know that you're not alone—it's a daunting task for anyone. But the most important thing is to spend your money on projects with the highest ROI. According to data from Remodeling magazine, garage door replacements have an average return of just under 94%. So if you're looking to invest in something that will give you one of the highest returns possible, look no further than replacing your old garage door. Realtor Jade Lee-Duffy of TXR Homes in San Diego, California says that minor kitchen upgrades are also a wise investment.“The heart of the home is the kitchen, and many buyers will judge a property by its kitchen,” she says. “While a complete overhaul of this space can run into the tens of thousands, a minor update is where you can gain the greatest return. Think about resurfacing cabinets, replacing countertops, a fresh coat of paint, or updating the fixtures and hardware.” Katie Severance, a Realtor with Douglas Elliman in Palm Beach, Florida believes that updating your bathroom is always a wise investment. “Renovated kitchens and baths are the ‘money rooms’ — those that add the most value to a home,” she says.

3. Improve the value of your home by improving its curb appeal.

First impressions are everything, so don't overlook curb appeal!“Make sure your front yard is free of debris, the bushes are pruned and the grass has been cut,” says Lee-Duffy. “Also, add some bright potted plants by the front door to make buyers feel welcome.” Touching up outside paint, putting window flower boxes, and installing a new mailbox are three simple improvements that do wonders for curb appeal. “Adding rich-looking mulch around shrubs and trees can really bring out the charm,” she adds.

4. Obtain a pre-listing examination.

If you're thinking of selling your home, be sure to get a home inspection first.“You don’t want any unexpected surprises,” says Lee-Duffy. “It’s best to find out beforehand if there are any issues that you can fix before buyers find out on their own.” A home inspection gives you negotiating power to ask for a lower price or, in the event of discovering significant damage, an easy way to back out of the deal. Therefore, it is often worth paying a few hundred dollars for a professional home inspector. Although a pre-listing inspection has benefits, there are also some drawbacks.“Beware, because once a seller becomes aware of an existing defect and does not correct it prior to listing, they are obligated to disclose it to a buyer,” says Severance. “Defects that a buyer learns were known but not disclosed, prior to accepting an offer, can kill the deal.”

5. Create a positive image with professional photos

If you're looking to sell your home, investing in high-quality photography can help you get a higher price. “The majority of people search for properties online,” says Lee-Duffy. “If the photos pop, it can translate into a higher sales price — and sell faster, too.” Although it may be tempting to give buyers a full picture of your home online, you may want to leave some things to the imagination.“I advise against photographing every square foot of the home,” says Severance. “The goal of photographs is not to give all the goodies away online; it’s to make a buyer want to see more — to whet their whistle enough to entice them to see it in person. If they don’t come to see the house, they probably aren’t making an offer.”

6. Give your home a makeover (stage your home)

When it comes to home staging, Severance advises that there are only two guidelines of thumb: less is more, and keep it neutral. “It’s very important to capture buyers’ interest from the front door,” she says. “Pay extra attention to the entry hall and invest heavily in staging this part of the house. Repaint; place flowers; buy a new area rug, an impressive mirror, or a dramatic piece of art.” Remove anything that visually shrinks a space, such as huge ottomans or numerous plants, and take everything off the kitchen counters except for one or two new-looking appliances. “And don’t forget to stage the deck or patio, because that is an extension of the house that can make a small home feel much larger than it is,” Severance adds. If you're feeling up to the task, you could stage your home on your own. But, if you really want to impress potential buyers- and make a good return on investment- it may be worth hiring a professional stager. The average professional costs between $749-$2,825 according HomeAdvisor.

7. Setting the correct asking price is critical.

It's critical to have an idea of what your home's highest selling price should be. A property that is correctly valued will bring in more buyers.“Setting the price too high can be detrimental and prevent buyers from walking through your front door,” says Lee-Duffy. “If you want to be conservative, always price on the lower end to entice maximum buyer interest.” An expert real estate agent will work with you to determine the highest possible price for your home, one that makes the most money without overselling. They can do this since they understand market values and what people in your region are typically ready to pay. “Good pricing requires the expertise to thread the needle,” says Severance. “List at a number that is lower than comparable properties, in order to draw attention to it, but not so low that you will be disappointed if you only get one offer right at list price.”If you're able to interest a good number of customers, you could be paving the way for a bidding war.

8. Before you leave remove and lock up personal belongings

“The goal of any showing is for the buyer to envision their own belongings in the space,” Severance says that family photos and knickknacks might not seem like they have any bearing on how much money your home commands, but they really do matter - especially if you are still living in the home while you're trying to sell it. “Buyers are thinking of their own furniture, where it will go, and how it will fit. It’s the house they came to see, not the items inside of it,” If you have a lot of personal items, the room won't be as entertaining and appealing. "It's not uncommon for buyers to be sidetracked by their own belongings," says George. If they're preoccupied with things such as themselves, they're less likely to notice that the place isn't inviting or engaging.

9. Be ready to move fast

When your home goes on the market, things can move swiftly. To be as responsive as possible to potential bids, it's critical to be well prepared ahead of time. “Fill out all the necessary documents, such as any seller disclosures, and have paperwork for recent repair work, home renovation costs, and utility bills on-hand for any buyer requests that come in,” says Lee-Duffy. Not responding after a sale can be detrimental to your sales. Sellers who are slow in reaction time or unresponsive may lose clients, according to Severance. “If the buyer feels that they are not being dealt with fairly, they are very likely to walk away,” she says.

10. Use your brain, not your emotions.

At the end of the day, try to see things objectively and as a business transaction — your home is now simply a product. Be clear on what you would be open to conceding if buyers bring it up during negotiations. It's not out of the ordinary for interested parties to ask for repairs or credits, so try not to get caught up in emotions and take offense. “It's critical to remove the emotion from it and keep in mind that buyers seldom anticipate receiving everything they inquire for,” says Severance. “Examine which demands are logical and fair, and then deliver something. Giving in on a demand is not costly to you; rather, it's the cost of losing the buyer, restarting the sale process from scratch, and receiving a potentially lower offer.”

#sell my house fast #sell my house for cash #sell my house fast for cash

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

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Dangers of TikTok

Loki x plus size reader x Bucky

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Reader finds a sound on TikTok that gets stuck in her head, Bucky and Loki get it out

Warnings: heavily implied smut, avengers crack, talks about fat jokes

A/N: Requests are open!

WC: 811

Minors DNI

It was well-known that Tony’s daughter was absolutely obsessed with TikTok. She would constantly quote stupid videos she found, share her favourite creators, and stay on top of trends even if she never participated in them herself.

By the time Y/N rose from her slumber and stumbled into the kitchen for food, it was well into the afternoon. She blindly riffled through the cabinets looking for something to eat. Settling on Thor’s secret stash of pop tarts (she’d buy him more later), Y/N plopped herself on the counter and began the endless scrolling once more.

“I see the golden child has awoken from her slumber.” Natasha’s crooning voice floated through the room. “I’m on break from college, I get to sleep in.” “And I also suppose that includes getting out of training with Steve too.” She raised a dark brow at the younger woman. “Yeah I worked out how to avoid that a loooong time ago. If I keep making self-deprecating fat jokes, he tends to get uncomfortable and leave me alone.”

The assassin sighed. “You’re way too much like your dad.” “I’ll take that as an insult.” Just then, the cheap pastries popped from the toaster so Y/n left her phone on the marble to fetch her morning treat, a video still playing. “What the hell is this video?” Nat watched as three celebrities dressed as a shitty version of the backstreet boys sang a parody of “I want it That Way”.

“That song has legit been stuck in my head for days. So I’m watching the video over and over until it’s gone.” “Does that even work?” “Better than waiting for it to stop. I’m not at all patient.” She swiped a pop tart from Y/N and walked from the room. “Whatever floats your boat!” Y/N settled back on the counter, munching at her breakfast.

“Are those my pop tarts?” She did end up getting a workout that day, it’s definitely hard running away from a hangry norse god.

🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

Y/N hummed as she read a book Bruce had loaned to her. The TikTok song still on a constant loop in her head. She didn’t notice two burly figures entering the sitting area.

“You are my fire

The one desire

Believe when I say

I want a threeway

Tell me why!”

She was full on belting now.

“Why can’t we have a threeway!

What if it’s my birthday

Tell me why

I really want a threeway!”

“Well if that’s what you really want, who are we to deny you?” A deep voice called out from behind her. “Holy shit!” Y/N jumped straight up into the air, heart pounding with the shock of being caught. “Oh god, you guys scared me.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as Loki chuckled. “That is certainly one way to get you to scream but we would prefer another way, pet.” She stammered. “W-what are you guys talking about?

“I think you do, doll.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her jaw, forcing her to make eye contact. “You want a threeway~” He slightly sang the last part. “It-it’s just a song.” Loki’s arm wrapped around her thick waist, bringing your back to his chest, his heavy erection poking the base of her spine. “Well to butcher a common phrase, art imitates life.” His mouth descended along her neck, lightly nipping at the soft skin, lighting up her nerves.

Y/N’s head rolled back, her eyelids drooping. “Good girl.” Bucky’s lips met her own in a heated kiss, his tongue diving into her mouth, hips grinding into her soft stomach, eagerly trying to get some friction to his aching cock. He resurfaced for air at the same time as Loki. “What do you say James, should we take this someone more private?” “Definitely. We need to be able to make her scream without someone interrupting.”

The boys laugh maniacally as Y/N whimpered.

🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

“So you spend another night scrolling through that stupid app of yours?” Tony asked as his daughter limped down the hall. “Not really.” She cringed at the hoarseness of her voice. “Y/N? Are you ok? Are you getting sick?” He cupped her cheeks to examine her face, looking for signs of illness. “No no, I’m ok dad. Just had a big workout yesterday.”

“Yeah I heard you exercising all night with robo-cop and the ice queen. You know Barnes’ room is right next to mine right?” Sam sipped his coffee, dark circles under his eyes pointing to his own sleepless night. Tony’s grip tightened. “You what.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly, pulling out of her dad’s grasp and running down the hall, ignoring the soreness in her crotch. As she ran past the two dark haired men she had spent the night with, she yelled. “Fucking run!”

Two workouts in two days, funny that.

Part 2

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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hqbbg · 4 years

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still.

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

prompt: “I told you to stay still.”

genre: smut

word count: 5.3K (I got carried away, oops)

warnings: 18+, masturbation, some degradation, oral (f!receiving), fingering, some spanking, vaginal & unprotected s3x (make sure you wrap your presents, kids), like 2 seconds of cockwarming, uhm I think that’s it oop

author’s note: I'm back with another Haikyuu!! Headquarters collab piece! check out the master list of everyone else’s works here ✨ I hope y’all enjoy this!

The air in your room feels thick as you pant helplessly, feeling the familiar ache in your fingers as they begin to cramp up while plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. You feel so close to your own undoing, unable to control your thoughts as they drift to the man whose room is on the other side of your bedroom wall. You can’t help but think that it’s his fingers squelching within your warmth, though you’re sure they would reach much further than yours ever could.

You don’t do this often, touching yourself to the thought of your roommate while he’s out at work or running errands, but lately you’ve been frustrated.

When you had put out an ad for a roommate, you were hesitant. You didn’t have much of a choice, as your last roommate decided to move out in favor of moving in with her boyfriend, leaving you to scramble for a solution in order to continue to afford rent. As a full-time student with a part time job, it would’ve been inconvenient to move out in the middle of the semester, and it seemed reasonable to quickly search for a roommate to help with the bills until your lease was up.

Miya Osamu was hot, to say the least, though it wasn’t the main reason why you ended up choosing him to be your new roommate. On top of having manners and being financially stable, he knew how to cook and respected your space in the apartment. Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to say the same recently. The number of times his room door was cracked open as he changed almost made you consider that he was doing it on purpose, as if encouraging you to take a peek.

As you recall the way his back muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head all those times you’d told yourself that you were just walking by, you let another moan slip past your lips. Your fingers begin to move quicker, toes curling, and you can feel your arm beginning to tire out. Your back arches as your other hand quickly moves to massage your neglected clit, rubbing harsh circles until your vision flashes white.

You fail to hear the front door open and close as your moans continue to fill the room. The memory of seeing Osamu stepping out of the bathroom in a simple pair of grey sweatpants with a towel around his neck is still fresh on your mind. You feel yourself clench around your own fingers as you recall your eyes briefly catching sight of the outline of his cock, the image practically ingrained within you. Too many times have you thought about how it would feel inside of you.

Another moan resonates on the walls and you bite your lip, though it does little to stop you from moaning Osamu’s name. Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed by pleasure and your whole body tenses before it relaxes. Your chest heaves as you lay there, trying to recover from your intense orgasm and you want nothing more than to sleep now. You hardly notice that your door is open.

Over the next few days, you can’t help but feel that something is off with Osamu. Though you aren’t particularly close, you’d like to think that you two have developed some sort of friendship with all the shared meals and evenings spent in the living room just chatting about life.

Did he hear you the other night? There was no way; you made sure to give yourself enough time before he was supposed to come home. Then again, you didn’t hear him come in…

Your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that he’d heard you. You let out a groan as you bury your face in your hands, leaning onto your desk. The little motivation you had to study has effectively disappeared and an unsettling mix of nervousness and shame begins to stir in the pit of your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you try to push the dreadful thought out of your head and sit upright. An idea suddenly pops into your head and you abruptly stand up. You walk over to your door and poke your head out, scanning the area to locate your roommate. He’s conveniently in the kitchen, snacking on some leftovers he’d brought back from his restaurant the previous night.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly as you step out. He looks over at you and hums in acknowledgement, his mouth full. You decide to go ahead and speak, though your fingers fidget with the hem of your oversized shirt. “You’re not working tomorrow night, right?”

Osamu shakes his head, swallowing his food. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you hesitate, trying to find a way to come off as casually as you can, “I saw this recipe online for some salmon and vegetables, do you wanna be my guinea pig?”

“Sure,” he nods as he shrugs. “What time?”

“Dinner time,” you say, a little too eagerly. “How about seven?”

His lips quirk upwards into a small smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You watch as he takes another bite of his food before you realize you’re staring, clearing your throat.

“Okay, well, have a good night,” you say and quickly scurry back towards your room. Once you shut the door, you release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. You swiftly move back to your desk, your forgotten notes pushed even further aside as you begin to look for that recipe you’d seen all those weeks ago.

The following day, you make a quick trip to the store to buy ingredients and find yourself nervously counting down the hours and minutes until it’s a reasonable time to start making dinner. You step out of your room to see Osamu already perched on a stool at the small island in the kitchen. He’s slouched over, scrolling through his phone when you walk up. He glances up and greets you with a small smile as you place your phone down near the center of the island countertop.

“Okay, so before I start, I just need to say that I’m definitely not a professional chef in any way,” you say as you move to wash your hands. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, pulling the vegetables from the fridge. You grab the apron hanging on the pantry door and sling it over your head, tying it behind your back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya wear that,” Osamu muses as he leans his cheek on his palm. His elbows are both propped up on the counter and you resist the urge to playfully roll your eyes.

“I have to make sure my shirt doesn’t get dirty,” you say, “it’s one of my favorites.”

He says nothing in response, opting for a light chuckle as you begin to wash the vegetables. Once you finish, you pull out the cutting board in front of him on the other side of the island, placing a carrot in the middle.

You open a cabinet and pull out a knife, giving it a quick rinse before positioning the blade to cut through the vegetable. Placing your fingers on the edge, you lift the knife just slightly.

“Hey, be sure to cats paw,” Osamu pipes up, pointing to the hand that’s on the carrot, “If yer not careful, you’ll knick yourself.”

“Huh?” You blink your eyes at him, trying to prevent yourself from sounding like an idiot.

“Like this,” he says, lifting his hand up and curling his fingers inward into a loose fist. You try not to focus on the veins lining his hands, tearing your eyes away and mimicking his motions. You see him drop his hand from your peripherals and finally attempt to cut into the carrot.

Before you know it, the knife slips from your grasp, making a shallow but clean cut across your index knuckle. You let out a curse and hiss as you drop the knife.

“Whoa, are ya okay?” Osamu stands as you begin to make your way to the sink, blocking your path.

“It hurts, but I’m fine,” you reply, looking at him curiously before glancing at your finger. You examine it for a moment, seeing the familiar crimson begin to bead.

“Let me take a look,” says Osamu, gently grabbing a hold of your wrist. He lifts your hand up closer to his face, his eyebrows slightly creasing as you do your best to resist the blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You should be careful.”

“Well, it’s not like this was intentional,” you grumble, unable to meet his eyes. He sighs softly and you glance at him, opening your mouth to say something. However, your train of thought is completely derailed when his lips wrap around the small incision.

You feel his warm tongue gently lick around it and you can’t help but stare at the way his lips look around your finger. He catches your eyes and pulls away.

“I used to do this to my brother whenever he’d get hurt or something when we were little,” he says, letting go of your wrist. Your face is burning as you drop your hand back down to your side. “Wait here, I’ll go grab a bandage.”

You nod wordlessly, mind still reeling as you try to figure out and process what exactly had just happened. You watch his retreating figure head towards the bathroom, disappearing for only a moment before resurfacing with a familiar pink wrapper with Hello Kitty’s face scattered across the outside cover, a gift he had received from his brother. He makes his way back over to you, pulling the tabs apart and plucking out the bandaid.

Without prompting, you lift your hand up towards him and watch as he moves your hand towards him with his pinky, wrapping it around your finger.

“There, all patched up. Is that too tight?” He asks, picking up the trash and crumpling it in his fist. You lift your hand up and examine his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“It’s perfect,” you say, feeling your stomach flutter at the self-satisfied smirk that’s found its way onto his face. “I still have to cut the vegetables, though.”

“Hand it over; I’ll do it.” He motions towards the knife.

You pout, making no indication to hand the utensil over to him. “I kind of wanted to cut the vegetables though.”

He raises a brow at you. “Are ya sure? Ya already butchered yer first chance; I don’t want blood all over my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen, huh?”

Osamu shrugs. “I hardly see ya in here, so it might as well be.”

“So are you gonna help me or not?” You raise a brow and choose to ignore his statement as you cross the kitchen to grab your phone, pulling up the recipe to skim through the instructions before placing it back down. “I’m supposed to Juliette these vegetables.”

Osamu stays quiet for a moment. “Do ya mean julienne?”

“Yeah, same thing,” you wave your hand dismissively, walking back over to the cutting board. You pick up the discarded knife, giving it a quick rinse. Upon returning to your original spot at the island, your hands position themselves once again, curling your fingers like Osamu had previously shown you.

“Wait, yer gonna end up hurting yourself again,” he says as he walks up behind you. “How thin are ya trying to cut this?”

“About this much,” you reply, positioning the knife towards the edge of the carrot.

“Okay, first things first,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes widen as you feel his chest press against your back, his hands moving to hold yours. “Ya have to cut it in half and get a flat surface.”

He grabs your hand holding the knife and moves it to the middle of the carrot, wrapping his thick and long fingers around the handle, completely swallowing yours. He ensures that his grip is stable before pressing down, the blade making a sharp cut.

“Okay, so now that ya have this, ya said ya want to make them look like noodles, right?”

You can only nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you choose to speak. Your head feels fuzzy, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of his musky cologne hitting your nose and the way his strong arms continue to guide you. The heat radiating off his chest envelops you in an oddly comforting embrace and something about it feels very domestic. You try hard to keep your knees from buckling under you, shifting your weight between your feet. You immediately tense when you accidentally press your backside against his hips.

Briefly scanning the island countertop, you see that his phone is on the other side where he’d originally left it when you began cooking and try to ignore the sinful thoughts threatening to infiltrate your mind.

“Makes sense?” Osamu says, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“I-I think so,” you stammer, though you bite your lip and mentally scold yourself for your faltering voice.

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back. You exhale slowly, trying not to think of the loss of warmth. “While ya keep doing that, I’ll prepare the salmon. Where’s the recipe?”

“It’s on my phone.” You nod towards it, setting the knife down. He walks over to the side of the counter you’d left your phone at and brings it over to you. “What’s yer passcode?”

“That’s classified information, sir.” You see his eyes darken for a moment as you pluck your phone from his hand, typing in the digits before placing it in his open palm.

“Never thought you’d be callin’ me that so soon,” he says offhandedly, locating the recipe in your browser. You feel your lips part to say something, but no words come out.

You simply resume cutting the carrot and grab more vegetables, shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts. You see Osamu grab the salmon from the fridge, pulling it out and getting some seasonings you’d bought earlier.

“Hey, can ya grab a pan from that cabinet there?” Osamu asks as he points to one of the bottom cabinets in front of your legs.

“Sure,” you nod and take a step back, opening the cabinet door and bending over at the hips. You rummage around for a decent-sized pan, feeling Osamu’s eyes on you before you straighten up. He’s quick to avert his eyes as he holds his hand out to you. You place the handle in his open palm and he takes it, setting it on top of the stove.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you prepare your own things, with you seasoning and cooking the vegetables while Osamu prepares the fish, searing it on the pan. As you both finish your portions, you decide to bring out your nicer plates for the occasion.

Opening one of the top cabinets, you stand on your toes to reach for the plates, wondering how they ended up so high to begin with.

“Need help?”

You jump slightly, startled when you feel his body pressed flush against yours with a hand on the dip of your waist as the other reaches above your head to grab two plates, placing them down onto the counter. You turn your head to look at him and realize just how close he is, his face merely centimeters away. His eyes are on your lips as you tongue pokes out to wet them before they flicker upwards to meet your eyes. You look up at him, anticipating his next move with bated breath, and feel his hand that had been holding the plates move to gently hold your jaw. He leans forward just slightly and your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet.

His lips move slowly against yours, though it’s nothing short of passionate. You feel his hand on your waist pull you closer to him and you lean into the warmth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to welcome the warm muscle inside, letting him explore freely.

The both of you seem to run out of air at the same time, pulling away breathlessly. Before you can say anything, he kisses down your jaw to your neck as you crane your head just slightly so he can have better access and you’re not straining your muscles. He nips gently at the skin before dragging his tongue along, finding a particularly tender spot to pay special attention to. A hiss slips past your lips and you’re reminded of how close he is to you when you begin to feel something hardening against your backside.

“If ya wanna stop, ya have to tell me now,” he mutters against your neck as both of his hands settle on your waist, thumbs playing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d rather not,” you admit rather shamelessly. You can feel Osamu’s lips curve upwards against your skin as his hands give you a slight squeeze.

“If ya say so,” he says before one of his hands reaches between the two of you to untie your apron. “If ya ever need me to stop, let me know.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, slightly dizzy from the reality of what’s happening right now. One of his hands begins to slide upwards from your waist, cupping your clothed breast and giving it a squeeze, while the other slips downwards under your apron and pushes past the waistband of your shorts, hovering over your panties. Suddenly very aware of the wetness between your legs, you move to close them a little.

“That won’t do ya any good,” Osamu mutters against the back of your neck. As if to prove his point, he presses his middle finger against your clothed slit and swipes upward, humming to himself. “Yer practically dripping and I haven’t even started yet.”

A moan slips past your lips and you can only bite your lip in embarrassment at your own shamelessness.

“It’s just the two of us; you don’t have to be quiet,” he says, as if encouraging you to be as loud as you want and disturb your neighbors. When you still refuse to make another noise, he nudges your legs open with his knees, almost forcing you to lean over the counter for support. As if to further prove his point, he pushes your panties aside and slips his middle finger in between your folds, causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

“Osamu,” you whimper as you feel him kiss his way towards the back of your ear.

“What is it, baby?” His finger is still and unmoving inside of you as you try to gain any sort of friction, attempting to grind your hips against him. His hand doesn’t move as you feel his tongue trace the outer shell of your ear.

“Stop teasing me,” you practically whimper as you ball your hands into fists on the surface in front of you.

“What do ya want me to do?” He sounds smug and you can almost visualize his teasing smirk behind your closed lids.

“Just fuck me,” you say. You fight the embarrassment heating your cheeks, too aroused to focus on anything else.

“I know we’ve been living together for awhile now, but let’s not forget our manners,” he says, beginning to slide his finger out.

“M’Samu, please fuck me!” It comes out too eagerly, too desperately, but you want him to just do something to you.

“That’s all you needed to say,” he lets out a soft chuckle before he slides his finger back in. You find yourself leaning completely on the countertop so you don’t buckle under him and moan when he slides another finger inside, stretching you.

You were right; his fingers reach so much further than yours ever could.

His calloused fingers continue to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace as his other hand that had been on your breast moves down to slip under your shirt. You bite your lip as you feel him expertly unclip the bra before sliding around to cup the flesh, nudging your loose bra aside. His fingers pinch your hardening nipple and you breathe out his name.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he practically grunts, “if ya keep soundin’ like that, I won’t be goin’ easy on ya.”

Part of you has half the mind to take him up on the offer while the other is failing to form coherent words and thoughts.

A familiar tension begins to pull at your lower abdomen as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. It seems that Osamu’s also aware, quickly slipping his hands out from your dripping cunt.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine as you turn back to look at him. He offers a smirk before removing his hands completely from your pants and lifting his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. The way his half-lidded eyes are locked on yours as he swirls his tongue around makes you clench helplessly around nothing.

“Don’t worry, yer gonna thank me later,” he says, dropping his hand. He begins to lower himself so he’s on his knees on the ground before he pulls your shorts and panties down in one clean tug. The cool air hits your wet heat and you bite your lip at the sensation.

You watch him with anticipation as he leans forward, using both hands to massage your ass a couple times before spreading the cheeks apart. He nudges your feet so you can spread a little wider for him, which you wordlessly oblige, and inhale shakily as he leans forward and licks a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck, Osamu,” you hiss as you turn back to look at him. You use one hand to reach around and weave your fingers through his hair, fisting it as he begins to sloppily lap at your cunt.

His tongue dives in and out, the wet squelch echoing around the apartment. You feel your legs tremble as he angles his head to reach a bit further before opting to have his fingers rejoin the fun. Your moans sound nearly pornographic as you attempt to grip at anything, unable to get yourself to properly stand as Osamu wags his head a couple times, swirling his tongue in the process.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his fingers angle themselves and hit a spot you didn’t even know existed, your walls beginning to clench and flutter around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pushing his head deeper against you. You feel him hum against you as if to encourage you to release onto his face, so you do.

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you feel every nerve ending spark up and you come undone above him. He lets you grind your hips against him a couple more times before he pulls away, breathing heavily as he stands up. He turns you around by your hips and you see your slick coating his lips and chin.

“Look at this mess,” he taunts you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You don’t say anything and wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to taste yourself. As you do so, he makes quick work to get rid of his sweatpants and pulls away to lift his shirt over his head. You go ahead and do the same with your apron, tossing it onto the island behind him and removing your shirt and bra to leave the both of you stark naked in the kitchen.

You take a brief moment to unabashedly check him out, admiring how toned and built he is. Chewing on your bottom lip, you let your fingers trace along the hardened and defined lines of his abdomen, trailing your fingers down to palm him through his boxers. You see the fabric straining and recognize the heat rising to your cheeks as you feel how hard he is, creating a slightly darkened and damp spot where the head of his cock is located. You glance up at him and meet eyes as you hook your thumbs on his waistband, pulling them down. His length practically springs to life, standing proud and tall before you and your mouth practically waters at the sight.

Wrapping your fingers around the base, you bite your lip as you drag your hand upwards to the tip and collect his beading precum, spreading it around generously with the pad of your thumb before using it as lubricant to continue stroking him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly as you lick your lips, getting ready to get on your knees to return the favor that he so generously had given you moments ago. He grabs your wrist to stop you and you look at him curiously. “As much as I’d love to see you suck my cock, I just want to be inside of that pussy of yours right now.”

The hungry look in his eyes is all you need before you kiss him again, this time much sloppier than the previous ones. He maneuvers you around the kitchen for a moment and before you know it, you’re bent over the island countertop with a leg propped up on the cool surface. You hear Osamu spit into his hand and look back to see him give his thick cock a couple generous strokes before positioning himself with one hand while the other holds your hip.

You feel the bulbous head nudge your lower set of lips apart before slowly easing in, your back arching at the pressure already building inside of you. A soft hiss escapes your throat as you try to take all of him, grateful when he pauses once he’s bottomed out within you. You take a deep breath for a moment and feel your muscles relax slightly as you adjust accordingly.

“Are ya ready?” Osamu’s voice comes out surprisingly soft as he leans over you, placing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You nod quietly before feeling both hands on your hips as he slowly begins to pull out. You realize just how thick he is when you feel empty, though it doesn’t last for long when he slams right back into you. A strangled mewl bubbles from your throat as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You lower yourself onto your elbows on the counter and ball your hands into fists, no longer caring how you sound; you’re too lost in your own wave of pleasure.

As Osamu continues his ministrations, you feel the counter buzz slightly and hazily look around with half a mind to simply ignore it. You see Osamu’s phone shaking across the surface next to your discarded apron, the screen lit up with an unfamiliar name.

“’Samu, your phone,” you say between moans, “your phone is ringing.”

His hips slow, though his thrusts continue to hit deep inside of you. He doesn’t have to reach far to grab it and glances at the screen.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. “Stay still for me, will ya?”

You halfheartedly nod your head, though you can’t help but whine at the loss of friction as he stills inside of you.

“Hello?” His voice is even as he answers quickly. “This is Osamu, yes.”

It’s hard to ignore the slight frustration bubbling in your chest as he uses one hand to keep your hips still while the other holds his phone. He continues to speak formally, so you assume it’s probably someone important or has something to do with work. You know better than to tease him in the event that this call is actually important, but you can’t resist the urge to just roll your hips a little.

There’s a slight hitch in Osamu’s voice before he clears his throat, though it sounds more like a warning to you than anything. However, that doesn’t stop you as you grow more bold, deciding to create your own rhythm of shallow thrusts. His grip on your hip tightens, though it’s not enough to hurt you just yet.

“Something just came up, so I’m gonna have to call ya back,” you hear Osamu say, his voice becoming more strained as each second ticks by. When he finally hangs up, the phone smacks onto the table, startling you to a halt.

“Sorry, I couldn’t w-”

“Ya think yer so cute, dontcha? I told ya to stay still.” His voice is dangerously low as he hunches over, practically growling in your ear. You whimper softly in response, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. You’re not sure if you should be as turned on as you are right now, feeling your walls clench around him.

He stands upright and reaches around to grab one of your arms, practically yanking you back so you’re also standing up. His other hand reaches around to grab your other arm, pinning your wrists behind your back.

“If yer gonna act like a slut, I’m gonna fuck ya like one,” he snarls lowly and you resist the urge to moan. He manages to reach for your apron and rolls it up, looping it around your elbows.

As one hand holds your newly bound arms behind your back, the other holds your hips before he begins to pull out of you. You feel his whole length leave you empty with the exception of the tip and you’re about to complain again when you feel him slam back in roughly.

“Is this what ya thought of when ya were touchin’ yerself?”

You hardly contain the cry of mixed pain and pleasure as your back arches, his hips snapping against yours at a relentless pace. You can barely process his words, though you know the embarrassment will hit you later; you simply can’t form coherent enough thoughts to care. The hand that was on your hip leaves but only momentarily before his palm claps against your ass. You yelp in surprise as he releases your arms.

“What, did ya never get spanked as a kid?” Osamu taunts as he rubs the reddening skin. You lean back over, supporting yourself on your elbows. His comment barely processes in your head as he does it again.

Coherent words fail to form as you feel your legs begin to tremble. You’re practically running towards another orgasm and you can tell Osamu is too, based on his unstable rhythm and sloppier movements. You feel one of his hands reach around you to play with your nipples while you let your own hand rub your clit, the sensations overwhelming you in a crashing wave of pure bliss.

As your walls tighten and flutter, Osamu pulls out and fists his cock a couple times before you feel hot ropes of cum paint your back and ass, a guttural groan leaving him.

“Holy fuck,” he pants once he recovers from his orgasm. You’re still shaking, bent over the island, breathing heavily.

A dull ringing can be heard in your ears from the intensity of your climax, but you faintly hear the sink running for a moment. Not long after, you feel a warm and damp towel wipe across the mess on your backside and Osamu’s gentle arm pulls you up.

“Hey, was I too rough on ya?” His voice is soft and you shake your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he hands you your clothes from the ground. “Do ya wanna eat now and shower later?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” you sigh as your head begins to clear up. You look over to your forgotten food, your mouth curving downwards into a frown. “Wait, did you not turn off the stove?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu x you #haikyuu smut #osamu smut #hrnybbg

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wingblade1357 · 4 years

Text

その人は君だよね？

I was doodling a scene for Kalim’s personal story part 2 and it suddenly turned to a novel illustration. I was aiming to use Shiro Amano style’s but asdfghjkllll painting is so hard.

I’m still debating whether to do it in a story or comic (since till now I still haven’t finish drawing Azul’s part 2 asdfghjkllllll😂😂😂)

EDIT: I added the draft of Kalim’s personal story part two! It’s right down after the read more because it ended up pretty long.

“Hikari~~~!”

Before Hikari could turn, someone tackled her from behind, embracing her in a warm hug. She almost stumbled, but she quickly balanced herself and the extra weight on her back.

“Funyaaaaa!” Grim yelped in surprise at the sudden movement. “GAHH It’s him again!”

Hikari patted the person’s arm, “As lively as ever, Kalim-senpai.”

“I thought I told you to call me just ‘Kalim’? No formalities needed!” Kalim said with a huge grin. He released his hold on her and he glanced around when he noticed two of her friends are missing. “Where’s Ace and Deuce?” He asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Those two got club activities.” Grim answered.

“And you two?”

“No club activity for me today.” Hikari said. She also noticed Kalim was alone. After the whole Scarabia fiasco, the two friends sorted things out. Jamil was free to be whatever he wanted and not Kalim’s shadow. The tradition between the Asim Family and the Viper family has changed. Kalim also tries his best to be independent and not rely on Jamil too much. It was a drastic change, but they’re taking it slowly. Step by step. “What about you? You’re in the Light Music Club, right?” She asked back.

Kalim grinned, “Yup! I was on my way when I came across you two!”

“As always, this guy’s easily distracted.” Grim deadpanned, sighing. “Anyways, c’mon!! We need to go to Sam’s before he closes!!” He whined, ordering for Hikari to hurry it up.

The white-haired boy blinked, “Do you need something? I can pay it for you!” He offered genuinely.

Hikari quickly raised her hand to decline. “It’s okay! Don’t worry! I can pay for it.”

Kalim pouted. Hikari was always declining his offer. One time, he even offered to renovate the Ramshackle dorm, but again, she declined saying that was the Headmaster’s responsibility. The other time, he offered jewels from his Treasure room, but again, she declined saying that she doesn’t need jewelry or money. She was strange, but in a good way.

“Gilbert, Ted and Jasper are not in the dorm today! It’s their monthly ghost gathering.” Grim said with a grin. The ghosts often offered to make dinner for the Ramshackle residence, though it was mostly them giving the leftovers from the cafeteria for free since they know the Cafeteria Ghost very well. Hikari and Grim didn’t mind as long as they get free food and still keep the dorm’s budget. “It’s Hikari’s turn to cook!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hikari sighed, patting Grim’s head. Grim favored her cooking more than ever. He said it was tasty and she should cook everyday, but she declined. To a certain degree, she likes cooking, but she does have those days when she’s too lazy or just don’t want to cook. Her profession wasn’t a chef like her brother.

“Ehhhhh!!!! I wanna eat your cooking too!!” Kalim exclaimed, his eyes sparkling like a thousand stars.

“You’re welcome to eat dinner with us.” Hikari invited. Kalim invited her plenty of times and sometimes, she has to decline since she doesn’t want to trouble them. It was mainly because each time Kalim invites her, he would go overboard with the party. She though it was just going to be a nice dinner, but turns out it was a full party with a parade. “I was thinking Filet Mignon Poêlé and maybe for dessert... coconut cream pie?” She remembers one of Kalim’s favorite thing is Coconut juice, maybe something related to coconut will make him happy.

“Ohhhh! Sounds delicious!!” Both Kalim and Grim cheered.

“We better get going and buy the ingredients from Sam. See you later then Kalim-senpai!” Hikari waved her hand goodbye to her upperclassman.

“Yeah! See ya!”

Kalim stood there, waving his hand above his head.

——x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x——

“No! You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because—!!!”

Kalim pursed his lips, closing it tightly. This was the first time he ever disapproved of Jamil’s decision. He would always agree with Jamil’s way since whenever Jamil takes care of it, things would go as planned. Not this time.

Jamil sighed, “I understand your feelings, but things will remain the same if we don’t move.” He said with his arms crossed. “She’s here and you’re doing nothing?”

Kalim stayed quiet.

“I don’t understand why everyone but you forgot about her...�� Jamil said. For years, Kalim kept mentioning a name—a person, but no one believed him. “Aren’t you tired of waiting?”

After Jamil overbloted and saved, there was a long forgotten memory that resurfaced. He remember someone—someone who was always there for him and told him to be himself. The person who told him he was free to express himself the way he wanted.

The hands he felt save in.

Finally he could understand what Kalim was talking about all these years.

Kalim’s imaginary friend wasn’t imaginary.

She was real and there with them.

He wants to know. No. He needs to know.

“Hikari... doesn’t seem to remember as well...” Kalim confessed, looking down to his hands.

“You said it yourself and she did as well back then. As long as our hearts are connected—“

“I know! But I.... I don’t want you to use your unique magic to force her to confess... it just seems wrong.”

Silence basked the two.

“...Fine. I suppose you’re right on this one.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Hikari~~!”

The brunette could hear Kalim all the way from the kitchen. “I’m in the kitchen!” She was too busy preparing for dinner that she didn’t even realize it was already time. Grim was busy doing his homework, but ended up taking a nap in the common area. She turned her head when she heard footstep coming closer. “Sorry, Kalim-senpai! Looks like you have to wait a little longer for dinner.”

“Uwaaaa! It smells so good!” Kalim peeked inside the kitchen, a big smile across his face.

“We bought some snacks. You can eat that first if you’re hungry.” Hikari pointed to the box of biscuits she bought from Sam at a special price. She turned her back on him to continue cooking.

“Thanks!” Kalim sat on the stool and propped his head up, leaning over the island and humming a tune he learned from his club. He stared at the brunette as she moved around to grab some spices from the cabinets. He remembered everything. She looked the same as she did ten years ago—as if she didn’t age a bit. She had cooked for him and Jamil a few times during the short period when she was his bodyguard. Neither once did he get poisoned or kidnapped when she was around. “You know...”

When was the right time to ask? Jamil had warned him there was no second chance. And he was right. Tomorrow or the next, who knows how long she was going to be with them.

“Hmm?”

There was a chance... that she might disappear again.

Everyone will forget her.

And this time, maybe even he will forget her.

“I think I’ve told you that aside from Jamil’s food, I always get a stomach ache, right?” Kalim began.

Hikari glanced over her shoulder, giving a reassured look. “Don’t worry, Kalim-senpai! I didn’t put anything funny—“

Kalim laughed. “I know! I know! I trust you!” He jumped off the stool and stood beside the island, staring at the ingredients on top of it. “I’ve been poisoned more times than I could count.”

“But there’s one remedy that always healed me. She was the one who taught me how to make it!”

“That remedy is Panacea.”

Hikari turned to look at him with wide eyes.

Kalim smiled. “That person... It really is you, right?”

Cliffhanger lol

#hikari #oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #kalim al asim #jamil viper #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #ツイステファンアート

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Three

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Three

“It’s not too close to where you used to live, is it?” Luka inquired nervously as they climbed the stairs to the third floor of the apartment building in the fifteenth arrondissement, not far from the Eiffel Tower.

“No, it’s fine,” Adrien assured, taking in how clean and in good repair everything was despite the building being older. “They leveled the mansion and built new homes on the lot, so it’s not a problem. I don’t think I could take seeing that building, that wall of windows, ever again, but the area itself is fine.”

“Oh, good,” Luka breathed in relief. “The last thing I’d want is to take you somewhere full of painful reminders.”

“No, this is wonderful,” Adrien stressed. “This place is really nice, and I’m so grateful to you for taking me in. Seriously. Thank you.”

“Not at all,” Luka assured with an encouraging grin as they made their way down the hall to the eighth and last door on the left-hand side. “I cannot stress what a weight off my mind it is to have you close by so that I can see that you’re safe. I’m happy to have you.”

Adrien looked down at his scuffed-up shoes as Luka pulled out the key.

“I’m really sorry to have worried you,” Adrien mumbled, shame making the tips of his ears burn. “I guess I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about how what I was doing would affect anyone else. I didn’t think I really mattered to anyone.”

Luka tamped down the surge of anger he suddenly felt towards Gabriel Agreste for all the years of neglect Adrien had suffered that made him think that his existence had so little impact on others.

He reached out and ruffled Adrien’s hair. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. Just stop and think next time you’re considering dropping off the face of the earth without telling anyone.”

“Sorry,” Adrien repeated, leaning into Luka’s touch.

“No worries,” Luka reiterated, increasing the pressure. “I think we all get it. Your whole life got smashed to pieces, and there was a lot going on. No one’s mad at you. We all know you were trying your best just to survive, but we were worried and mad at our own inability to do anything. Nino is still a wreck, and that Wayem guy you were friends with was completely inconsolable. Alya, Kagami, Chloé…Marinette…”

Both Luka and Adrien flinched at the last name.

“…a lot of people care about you,” Luka sighed, moving his hand to scratch behind Adrien’s ear, slipping back into their old casual intimacies as if no time had passed.

“It’s good to know that,” Adrien replied in a weak voice, swallowing back a fresh round of tears.

Internally, he laughed at the fact that he’d cried more in that single day than he had in the preceding year.

“I’m going to need to reach out to them later tonight,” Luka tentatively informed.

Adrien’s head shot up, his eyes wide in alarm.

“I don’t have to tell them you’re staying with me or even that you’re back in Paris, but they need to know that you’re safe and well,” Luka insisted, not taking no for an answer. “You don’t have to talk to them until you’re ready, but I know what it feels like to wonder if you’re dead, Adrien. They deserve to know you’re safe.”

Reluctantly, Adrien nodded. “I see your point. …I was thinking about getting back in touch with Nino and Marinette, actually. I’m not ready right now, but…yeah. I don’t want to worry them any more than I already have.”

“Good,” Luka sighed, opening the apartment door. “That settles it, then.”

He was just about to step inside when he suddenly remembered the state his apartment was currently in after The Breakup.

Luka hurriedly closed the door and groaned.

“Problem?” Adrien inquired hesitantly, eyebrows scrunching together in concern.

Luka rested his forehead against the door and took a deep breath. “…Uh…yeah. I kind of forgot that the apartment is sort of a dump right now. I think Josie mentioned how I just broke up with the woman I had planned on spending my life with six days ago?”

Adrien winced. “Oh. That’s… Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Luka blew out a long breath, straightening up and looking at Adrien apologetically. “I’m so sorry. It’s not normally like this, I swear. I just haven’t been functioning this past week.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien assured with a look of utter sympathy and understanding on his face as he reached out and placed a comforting hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry,” Luka repeated, voice raw as all the emotions he’d been pushing to the back of his mind resurfaced. “Sorry I’m kind of going to pieces on you out in the hallway when you’ve got so much on your own plate.”

“Shh,” Adrien soothed, coaxing Luka gently into his arms.

Luka was a little embarrassed at how quickly he melted into Adrien’s touch.

“It’s okay,” Adrien cooed, starting to rub soothing circles between Luka’s shoulder blades. “I’m really sorry that you’re having a rough time, but, honestly, the ugly part of me feels a lot better knowing that even you can be a mess sometimes.”

“I’m glad you’re able to take comfort in my suffering,” Luka laughed through tears, giving Adrien a squeeze.

“It’s just that you’re always so chill and mature and levelheaded,” Adrien teased. “You were always the one comforting me and giving advice and making me feel better about the crappy things in my life. It’s good to feel like maybe I have an opportunity to be there for you now.”

“That’s valid,” Luka agreed into Adrien’s shoulder. “…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Adrien hummed happily, giving Luka a pat on the back.

With another sigh, Luka straightened up and opened the door. “I promise you I’m going to clean all this up starting tomorrow. Going forward, I won’t leave a mess in the common areas.”

Adrien clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Luka, it’s seriously not a big deal. I am literally homeless; I’m not going to judge your housekeeping lapses while you’re going through a major breakup. It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t feel fine,” Luka grumbled as Adrien stepped into the apartment and got his first look at the carnage. “And you’re not homeless anymore,” Luka chided, stepping inside and locking the door behind them. “You live here now, so welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Adrien chuckled, taking in the dirty laundry, soiled dishes, pizza boxes, Chinese takeaway cartons, and half-eaten junk food refuse.

“Oh my God,” Luka groaned. “Please don’t look at it. I swear I don’t live like this all the time. I’ll clean it all up tomorrow.”

Adrien turned to Luka and pulled him into a quick hug. “I’m sorry that you’re suffering. It’s okay not to be able to stay on top of everything all the time.”

Luka was stunned into silence, not sure how to feel.

Adrien pulled back and smiled, ignoring the mess and asking, “So, where do I sleep?”

“Here,” Luka replied gratefully as he stepped over the rubbish littering the living room floor to guide Adrien to the third door on the right wall. “Kitchen is there, obviously.” He pointed straight back through the apartment.

It was an open concept layout, so the living room seamlessly faded into what would have been a nice little kitchen area with an island in the middle as a workspace and a full stove, oven, refrigerator, microwave, dishwasher, cabinets, pantry, and sink…if not for the fact that, like the rest of the apartment, it looked like a disaster zone at the moment.

“That first door is my bedroom, the middle one is the bathroom, and your room is here,” Luka oriented Adrien, motioning to the other two doors in turn before opening the one that led to Adrien’s new bedroom.

“It’s kind of spartan at the moment,” Luka informed apologetically as Adrien peeked in.

It was a more-than-reasonably-sized room with generous closet space. As far as furniture went, there was a desk, a desk chair, a bed, and a nightstand. The walls were bare of decoration, and the mattress didn’t have any sheets.

Still, it was a nice room, even in its sparseness. Natural light poured in through the large windows, making it feel warm and cheerful.

“This is really nice,” Adrien whispered, voice cracking.

Luka looked to him with a tentative smile. “You like it?”

Adrien nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Good.” Luka’s hesitant grin grew into a full-blown beam. “How much stuff do you have back at your room at the hostel where you were staying? I just want to know if we need to take the car or the motorcycle or what to go get it.”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably. “Um…nothing, actually.”

Luka blinked as he did a doubletake of the small satchel Adrien had with him.

He took a deep breath and decided, “We’re going shopping.”

Adrien’s eyes grew as big as marbles for the nth time that day. “Luka, I really don’t need anything. I already feel bad what with—”

“—Hush.” Luka pressed his fingers to Adrien’s lips. “At the very least, we need to go get you some bed linens because I don’t have clean sheets to give you to sleep on. You also need a phone so people can get ahold of you for band stuff. Those things are non-negotiable.”

Adrien bit his lip, looking more and more uncomfortable as he realized that there was no way to get himself out of placing himself further in debt to Luka.

“I’ll pay you back someday,” he promised, not sure how he would ever make good on his word.

Luka’s eyes softened, and he gave Adrien a warm smile and a pat on the head. “You don’t have to, but, if it makes you feel better, okay.”

Adrien nodded resolutely. “I will pay you back.”

The first stop was a little SFR phone boutique, and then Luka took them to a nearby Monoprix department store.

Adrien picked out an inexpensive, plain bed set, but Luka put it back and steered Adrien over to the pricier, better quality sets with fun designs.

“I don’t want you sleeping on scratchy sheets,” Luka chided affectionately. “I know you haven’t had much these past few years, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve nice things. And while I’m aware that the options here aren’t that impressive, I want you to pick something comfortable in a colour or pattern that you like, okay?”

Adrien hesitated for a moment before going over to the more expensive sets and picking out a dark blue one with a white shooting star pattern. He looked to Luka for approval, and Luka smiled, nodding.

“Perfect. Now let’s get you some clothes,” Luka announced in satisfaction.

“I have clothes,” Adrien insisted, mortified.

Luka rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you got new clothes? I know they don’t have the best selection here, but you could probably use some new socks, underwear, pyjamas, shirts, am I right?”

Adrien pointedly didn’t look at Luka.

With a sad, sympathetic expression, Luka went over to Adrien and tugged gently on his sleeve. “Please let me buy you new clothes?” Luka pleaded softly, voice just above a whisper. “I haven’t been able to do anything for you this whole time, and I feel like, based on what you said, there were times when you really needed someone. Please let me try to make up for not being there for you. Can you do that for me?”

Adrien looked up at Luka, scrutinizing his face for a minute. “To be clear, I’m not asking you to do all this for me. Because I don’t need this. This is all your idea. I’m not making you spend all this money on me.”

Luka nodded, patiently confirming, “That’s right.”

“I’m letting you do this as a favour to you,” Adrien added uneasily.

Luka kept nodding. “Yes, and I would be extremely grateful if you’d let me.”

“And you’re doing this because you’re my friend and you care for me and you feel guilty?” Adrien verified. “Not because you pity me or you’re looking down on me or anything?”

Luka placed his hands on Adrien’s shoulders and stared him intently in the eye. “What I feel for you isn’t pity. It’s empathy and compassion, Adrien. You didn’t look down on or pity me when I was broke, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien scoffed at the ridiculous notion.

“No,” Luka agreed. “You didn’t. You may have felt bad that you took for granted things that I went without, but you didn’t pity me. You were compassionate, and you shared what you had with me. You bought me gifts that I couldn’t afford for myself. I still treasure the things you gave me. They’re proof that you cared about me and wanted me to have nice things.”

“Oh,” Adrien whispered as realization dawned on him.

“Do you kind of get it now?” Luka chuckled, patting Adrien on the shoulder before stepping back.

Adrien pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay. I think…we’re probably going to have to have this conversation a couple times in the coming weeks until it really sinks in, but…I think I get it, so…let’s go shopping?” he replied uncertainly.

Luka smiled, taking Adrien by the hand and leading him to the men’s clothing section.

They picked up a week’s worth of new clothes for Adrien and then stopped by the personal care section for bath and grooming supplies.

When Adrien insisted that he didn’t strictly need an item, Luka took to saying, “I’m buying you this because I love you”.

Adrien may have protested more frequently than necessary just to get Luka to say it.

Even back when Adrien had a home and a family, he hadn’t really heard “I love you” that much. His friends (Nino especially) had often reminded Adrien that he was loved, but it had been years since he’d last been told that.

They walked past the toy section, and Adrien stopped when a bin of stuffed animals caught his eye.

He reached out to stroke a black cat plushie, and Luka saw the wistful look in Adrien’s eyes.

Luka picked up the stuffed animal and inspected it.

“I used to have one,” Adrien hastily explained, looking away. “Nathalie gave it to me for my eighth birthday to keep me company because my father had to go out of town on a business trip and my mother went with him, so I was alone for my birthday. I named him Chat Noir…. Seeing that just reminded me.”

“Do you want this?” Luka inquired, gazing at Adrien with bottomless affection.

Adrien’s eyes said “yes”, but Adrien shook his head, responding, “No, I don’t need it.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Luka chuckled, tucking the stuffed animal into the crook of Adrien’s arm. “I asked if you wanted it.”

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but Luka cut him off.

“I’m buying you this so that every time you look at it, you’ll remember that you’re loved,” he informed, taking Adrien by the hand and tugging him along.

“Thank you,” Adrien whispered, hugging Chat Noir the Third to his chest and smiling to himself.

The next stop was the groceries section on the ground floor.

“I really need to do the shopping,” Luka groaned. “I’m pretty sure a sentient lifeform is growing in the fridge at this point, but I’m completely wiped today.”

He sent Adrien an apologetic look. “I kind of drank myself stupid last night, and I’m still feeling it a little. Let’s just get you some snacks to tide you over until I can go grocery shopping tomorrow morning. We can get takeaway tonight for dinner, if that’s okay.”

“I’m good,” Adrien assured. “I really don’t need anything. If you recall, I didn’t exactly get snacks much growing up either.”

“Well, take a look around and see if anything looks good,” Luka urged. “At the very least, we can pick up some mint tea and prepackaged salads.”

Adrien’s eyes grew large and misty. “You remembered.”

Luka burst out laughing, and he reached out to tussle Adrien’s hair. “Perfect Fifth, you have the most bizarre comfort foods ever. Of course I remember them. Come on.”

He motioned for Adrien to follow him to the corresponding sections of the store.

On the way, he watched Adrien closely, taking note of the things that seemed to catch his eye.

“We should have sushi sometime,” he remarked as he noticed Adrien eying the sushi bar longingly. “Would you like that?”

“I would love that,” Adrien sighed wistfully, his mouth already watering. “I haven’t had sushi in forever.”

“Maybe tomorrow for lunch before rehearsal,” Luka suggested. “We can pick some up while we’re here for groceries.”

“I’d like that,” Adrien repeated softly. “Thank you for being so considerate.”

Luka responded with a grin and playfully bumped Adrien’s shoulder with his own. “Sure thing.”

The next thing that grabbed Adrien’s attention was the cheese monger’s counter.

He looked at it sadly, his eyes growing damp once more.

“Oh my gosh,” Luka exclaimed as realization hit him. “We need to pick up some Camembert for Plagg, don’t we?”

Adrien’s hand flew out to grab Luka’s arm and stop him as he made to go over to the cheese section.

Luka frowned as the tears started to spill down Adrien’s cheeks.

“Adrien? What’s wrong?” Luka cooed.

Adrien shook his head and held up his ringless right hand.

Luka gasped. “What happened?”

Adrien kept shaking his head as he ruefully bit out the words with some difficulty. “I didn’t feel like I deserved him after everything that happened…so I gave him back to her before I left.”

Luka’s already pale skin lost its remaining colour as his stomach turned sour.

He cursed under his breath.

“And here, this whole time, I was making myself feel better by telling myself that at least you had Plagg to look after you, but…” Luka cursed again, shaking his head and getting his thoughts in order. “Do you want me to call her? I’ll call her and drive over there right now and get him back for you.”

Adrien looked up at Luka in surprise. “You…she told you?”

Luka averted his eyes and shrugged. “I figured it out. Do you want me to go get Plagg for you?”

Adrien bit his lip, looking like he was just about to say yes, but then his eyes darkened, and he shook his head. “I don’t think I can face him just yet either, but when you text Marinette later that I’m alive, could you please tell her to tell Plagg that I’m sorry and I miss him?”

“I can do that,” Luka promised, already knowing that he was going to go see Marinette the next day and get Plagg from her so that he’d be on hand the second Adrien was ready to be reunited with him.

Luka realized that the fact that he was so ready to face her again on Adrien’s behalf was rather telling.

He’d never exactly stopped loving Adrien, and he feared his feelings were just waiting in the wings to flare up at any moment.

They returned to the apartment and spent the rest of the day getting Adrien settled in. By the time Luka pushed the rubbish off of the couch so that they could sit down and eat their dinner that evening, they were both exhausted.

“After I eat, I’m going to my room and collapsing,” Luka informed, tucking into his carton of kung pao chicken.

“Sorry to have worn you out,” Adrien apologized sheepishly as he started on his vegetable lo mein. “I really appreciate everything you did for me today.”

“No worries,” Luka assured with a half-full mouth. “I wore myself out before you were even in the picture…and, honestly, today is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

Adrien tipped his head in surprise. “Wait. Really?”

Luka nodded. “Even before The Breakup, I was getting pretty down…. She’s in love with someone else. She’s always been in love with someone else, but I’ve never held it against her. I thought it was okay because it wasn’t like she was actually cheating on me or anything. She couldn’t be with him, so she settled for me, and I thought that was okay because that was still her picking me, but…it’s been years, and she’s still pining after the ghost of him.”

He looked up at Adrien with a smile that had been beaten down but still gotten back up on its feet. “I thought it was okay, but it wasn’t, and it had really started to wear down on me. So, today was actually really good. Concentrating on you is helping me get my mind out of the dark place it’s been living for a while now.”

“I’m really glad I could help in some small way,” Adrien replied with a tentative smile. “I hope you have more good days going forward.”

Luka nodded, going back to his dinner. “I’m sure I will. There are still going to be days where I drink myself into a coma and can’t get out of bed, but there will be days when I’m a functioning human being too. Maybe having you around will give me the kick in the pants I need to shower regularly and keep the apartment clean and eat all the meals I’m supposed to. I always do better when I’m focused on someone else.”

“I’ve seen you focus on other people too much and completely neglect yourself,” Adrien hummed softly. “…But I’m going to be around for a while, so I guess if I see you doing that, I can nag you about it.”

“Please feel free to do so,” Luka snorted in laughter. “Goodness knows I need it.”

He scooted over on the couch, cautiously invading Adrien’s space.

Adrien surreptitiously inched closer.

Luka closed the gap until they were shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. “Do you mind snuggling?” he asked even though Adrien was already leaning into Luka, resting his head against Luka’s shoulder.

“Snuggling is my favourite thing,” Adrien laughed. “You know that. How many times have I used you as a body pillow?”

“Things change. You never know,” Luka replied with a shrug. “I don’t ever want to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I know you’ve historically had a hard time telling people no and where your boundaries are.”

“Thanks,” Adrien whispered, voice full of gratitude. “But I think maybe you and I can just pick up where we left off, if that’s okay. You still feel like you, and you make me feel like a person I haven’t been in a long time.”

Luka tipped his head to the side, resting it against Adrien’s. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah,” Adrien hummed. “I think it is. I’ve grown a lot these past few years, but there are parts of myself that I feel like I’ve lost that I miss. There are a lot of things I want to lose and a lot of things I want to get back, so I think this is good.”

“Good,” Luka sighed, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips. “I’m feeling kind of needy lately. Snuggling sounds really good.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Adrien assured.

They ate their dinner in happy, warm silence and lingered for a while after they were through, just enjoying the company.

Finally, Luka persuaded himself to get up and take the empty containers over to the nearly overflowing rubbish bin in the kitchen.

He winced as embarrassment reared its head again. “I promise I’m going to clean all of this up tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Adrien chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s seriously fine, Luka.”

“It’s really not,” Luka grumbled. “I am not my mother. I do not go on drinking sprees and let trash pile up around me. I am a functional, responsible adult.”

Adrien got up and went over to Luka, resting a supportive hand on his arm. “You are a functional, responsible adult…and you need to cut yourself some slack. Be nice. You’re going through some stuff. That’s what you used to tell me, right?”

Adrien shot him a bolstering smile, and Luka’s lips twitched just a little in response.

“Thank you, Adrien. It’s just…this,” He waved his arms to encapsulate the entire mess of an apartment. “is not me.”

“I know,” Adrien replied matter-of-factly. “And you can fix it when you feel better. Now, off to bed with you.”

Luka pulled Adrien into a quick side-hug. “You’re the best.”

Adrien cracked up. “Please tell me that often. My self-esteem could use the boost.”

“Noted,” Luka assured, turning to head to his room.

He paused when he suddenly remembered and reached for his wallet.

“Before I forget: apartment key, credit card, cash,” he announced as he fished each item out of his wallet and set it down on one of the only clean spots on the kitchen island.

Adrien gawked. “What’s all this?”

Luka nodded to the apartment key. “I’ll have a duplicate made for you tomorrow, but if you need to go out before then, you’ll need the key. If you discover that you don’t have something you need, there’s money. I mean, I’m sure we forgot something. If you need me, just knock on my door, and if I don’t respond, come in and shake me because I’m probably stone cold passed out,” Luka concluded with a shrug.

Adrien kept staring, looking back and forth between Luka and the money in disbelief. “Aren’t you afraid of me just taking off with that?”

Luka burst out laughing. “Why would you do that?”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know. I told you earlier that I stole money from my aunt. You’d think you’d be a little more cautious.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Have you ever stolen something you didn’t need? Have you ever stolen from someone who couldn’t take the loss?”

Slowly, Adrien began to shake his head.

“Okay then,” Luka declared as if that settled it. “Besides, is it stealing if I gave this stuff to you?”

Adrien pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “…No?”

“No,” Luka agreed, reaching out to pat Adrien on the head. “You’re free to go whenever you want, Adrien. I would never keep you here against your will, but I think you do want to be here, and I want you here too, so I hope you’ll stay.”

Confusion slowly overtook Adrien’s expression and he found himself asking the question that had been in the back of his mind all day: “Is all of this for real?”

Luka’s eyebrow arched questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Adrien swallowed and motioned around them. “All of this. Is this really…free? No strings attached? You really don’t want anything from me? You’re not expecting me to do anything to pay you back?”

Luka shook his head, giving Adrien what he hoped was a calming smile. “Completely free,” he assured. “No strings.”

Adrien frowned harder. “Sorry. I just…I know you’re telling the truth. I know I can trust you. I do trust you. I just haven’t been able to trust anyone in a long time, so this is really hard for me to just accept all of your kindness.”

Luka nodded, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Adrien, not even able to trust his own family. “It’s okay. I’m not offended or anything. You’ve been through a lot, and even though I have no way of really understanding that, I respect it.”

Adrien swallowed, hesitating before confessing, “People have tricked me before. People have pretended to be nice, but they weren’t actually nice. I know you’re not like that, but…people who have been nice to me have always expected things I’m not interested in giving, so I’m just kind of anxious because people get mean when you tell them no after they’ve been nice to you.”

Luka’s jaw dropped, and fear surged up into his chest. “Adrien,” he gasped. “Are you okay? Did someone…?”

Adrien shook his head rapidly. “No. No. I mean…not successfully. I’m fine. Just…you know. Close calls. It’s made me painfully aware of how vulnerable I am, though.”

He winced. “It made me realize how dangerous it can be for someone whom no one cares about. If something happened to me, no one would come looking or ask questions. It’s scary once you realize no one’s looking out for you. It makes you hesitant to trust people.”

Luka stepped forward, pulling Adrien into a hug. “Well, it’s not like that anymore, so you don’t have to be scared. You have friends here. Old ones you just need to reconnect with and new ones like Josie and Jacob and Marc. You’re safe, Adrien.”

Luka pulled back to look Adrien in the eye to make sure he was hearing what Luka was saying. “And this is your home now, not just mine. That room is your room. I’m not going to barge in uninvited or mess with your things. That’s your space, and you have door-locking privileges. Same goes for the bathroom. I want you to feel safe here.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Adrien assured, smiling peacefully as he rested his head on Luka’s shoulder and gave him a grateful squeeze. “Sorry I’m kind of busted up. The world is sort of mean.”

“I know. Don’t worry. Everyone is a little busted up in some way or another. It’s not just you,” Luka informed.

“Thanks,” Adrien sighed as he pulled away. “Now go get some rest. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

A peal of laughter took Luka by surprise. “That is exactly what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

“I’ll bet.” Adrien smirked. “Go sleep.”

“What are you going to do?” Luka had to wonder.

“Monopolize your bathtub for at least an hour and then watch anime on my phone,” Adrien answered without batting an eye.

“You like baths?” Luka snickered. “Why am I just now finding this out about you?”

Adrien shrugged, his smirk growing wider. “My bathtub was one of the few things I loved about my previous domicile, and I’ve been deprived of baths for nearly five years at this point. Please take this as notice that I’m annexing your bathtub.”

“Fair enough,” Luka conceded without a fight, amused at the simple things that could bring Adrien pleasure.

“Also, I take long, hot showers, so prepare for your water bill to skyrocket,” Adrien warned.

“Noted.” Luka relaxed as Adrien seemed to become more and more comfortable making himself at home by the minute.

“And I’m going to need your Netflix password,” Adrien added to the list of demands.

Luka winced. “I don’t have Netflix.”

Adrien stared, blinked, and then cocked his head to the side. “…What?”

Luka rolled his eyes and pointed to the credit card on the counter.

Adrien looked at the card and then back to Luka. “Really?”

“Go crazy,” Luka assured. “Anything else?”

Adrien thought for a moment. “Not at present.”

“Okay. Night, night, Perfect Fifth.” He gave Adrien’s hair a tussle for good measure and turned to go.

“Good night, Orpheus,” Adrien called after him, resurrecting his own old nickname for Luka. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Luka echoed, savoring those words.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Friendship #Friends to Lovers #Slow Burn #Pining #Mutual Pining #Roommates #Mikau's Writings #Zebras Can't Change Their Stripes

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apexresurfacing · 8 months

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#bathroom reglazing sydney #apex bathroom resurfacing #benchtop resurfacing #kitchen benchtop resurfacing cost #bathtub resurfacing services #bathroom resurfacing sydney #kitchen cabinet resurfacing my area

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vfdarkness · 3 years

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AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment…

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places.

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida.

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening.

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves.

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.”

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington.

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

#a voice from darkness #avfd #malcolm ryder #rene dupont

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unnecessaryadversaries · 4 years

Text

LOVE & DEATH [Alucard | Adrian Tepes X Death] Ch. 8

Summary: Since Trevor and Sypha's departure, Alucard has endured terrible loneliness and grief. Despite becoming known as the "Guardian Angel" — defender of Wallachia, and involving himself with witches, he believes it is his fate to suffer alone forever. One night, his world is turned upside down when the castle is visited by Mistress, the incarnation of Death. Each being the only remnant of what Dracula and Lisa have left behind, Alucard and Mistress Death revisit ghosts of their past, as they try to find solace amongst one another, and face the looming threats ahead.

(A/N: In case you were curious, Alucard is 6'2"; Mistress Death is 6'8"; and Itzhak is 7'3". So we've got a smol, a tol, and a very tol!)

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The kitchen was warm when Alucard walked into it, almost to the point of being stuffy, and the odor of burning wafted through the air. Despite this, his eyes widened slightly in awe as he looked overhead at the many candles hovering in midair, softening the space with a peaceful, orangish glow. Which was accented by the blue moonlight filtering in through the windows. It seemed magical, and he smirked at the gesture, but as enchanting as it looked, it could not distract from the mess made of the kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly in the sink, food and other substances decorated the countertops and shelves in splotches, and the once tidy cabinets were open and wildly rummaged throughout.

“What a wonderful surprise,” Alucard muttered under his breath. He rubbed the aggravated knot that was already beginning to form in the back of his neck. The careful organization and storage of recipes, ingredients, and food were dismantled in hours, and it made his eye twitch. However, what caused him to blanch was the whispered sound of Mistress giggling as she spoke with Itzhak. They were observing the handstitched dolls Alucard had placed on a low shelf.

“Don’t look at those,” he blurted out, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Ah, Adrian, there you are,” Mistress replied as she and Itzhak rose to their full heights to gaze down at him.

Alucard immediately noticed that she was dressed differently: For one, she wore no cloak, and her chained belt was missing but the amulet remained draped around her neck. Her new dress was still long and fitted her form but was off-shoulder and a muted blue color. The neckline dipped into a sweetheart pattern that almost revealed the line of her bust, and the sleeves remained dramatic and medieval-like. Her long, white hair was styled into cornrows at the front of her head that then dispersed into a bouquet of kinky curls starting at the middle. Furthermore, the two braids that hung forward on each side of her head were decorated at the end with silver beads.

He already considered her beautiful. Only now, she looked more welcoming, and maybe even slightly happier. Had it not been for the mess he knew she made, nor the humiliation he felt at having his dolls discovered, he would’ve complimented her.

“Itzhak and I were just admiring your cute, little dolls.” Reaching out, she grabbed them both in her hand. “They look just like Belmont and the Speaker girl. You’re so creative, Adrian. Isn’t that right, Itzhak?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

Alucard shook his head. “You really are laying the compliments on thick; these are hardly impressive.”

He suppressed the urge to groan as he saw the way Mistress placed them back on the shelf. They were slouched over sadly and set too far apart from each other for his liking. Therefore, he approached the dolls rather quickly to fix their positions and lamented as he did so. “This castle was a lonesome, unfriendly place when Trevor and Sypha left, and I admittedly went a little mad when they were gone. These are just dolls but most days they were all I had to talk to.”

Once perfect, Alucard stepped back to admire his handiwork, a small smile tugging on his lips when memories of their playful bickering began to resurface.

“That’s pathetic,” Itzhak deadpanned.

An irritated growl ripped its way from Alucard’s throat as his head turned sharply to glare at the creature. His hands itched with the temptation to tear him apart, but if his earlier reaction to losing an arm were anything to go by, it’d hardly faze him in the slightest.

“Well, it needn’t be that way if they hadn’t left,” Alucard exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the dolls as his forehead wrinkled in frustration. In the awkward silence, little Trevor and little Sypha toppled forward slightly, as if they were bowing in forgiveness. He immediately noticed and grumbled as he moved to fix them in upright positions again.

Itzhak muttered “pathetic” in his alien tongue then looked to Mistress Death for her response…but, she had none. Instead, she stood rigidly and looked upon Alucard with a face etched with sorrow and guilt. Her eyes began to moisten with blood, tinging the white sclera pink and then red, as her bloody tears welled and threatened to spill. It was an intense look Itzhak had not seen since the night of Alucard’s birth, and it caused him to gasp, “My Mistress!” with a voice tainted by some flicker of worry. Slightly alarmed, she perked up and batted her eyes to return them to normal and acknowledged him.

“What is it?”

“The…surprise—”

“Yes,” Alucard interjected, “what is my surprise?” He faced them with his arms crossed after finishing with his task. “Because I am somewhat underwhelmed and quite frankly annoyed. The candles are a nice touch but, I can see that you’ve cleaned yourself up better than my kitchen.”

Mistress rolled her eyes skyward. “Ugh, you are a true Tepes man at heart, so dramatic.”

With that, she snapped her fingers, causing a visible shockwave to surge from them and spread rapidly outward. Consequently, the cabinets and windows rattled somewhat, and the ground shook slightly, but overall the kitchen was no longer in disarray. Alucard lowered the arm he raised to shield his face and gripped his chin as he surveyed the room, humming thoughtfully. Aside from the candles that still hovered overhead, everything seemed cleaned and in its proper place. Even that weird burnt smell was gone.

“There, is that better?”

Alucard arched a brow then brushed past her, headed towards one of his spice cabinets. He had a complex system when it came to the organization of his spices; one that took him days to figure out the best catalog that suited his cooking methods and palate, and he’d be damned if it was all thrown to the wind. He sifted through that cabinet and two others, checking the labels and positions of different spices to make sure everything was indeed in order. Once everything checked out, he released a satisfied sigh and answered, “Yes, much better.”

“Splendid! Now, come sit. Itzhak, pull out a chair for him!”

“Right away, Mistress.”

Alucard nodded his head in thanks when Itzhak pushed him comfortably up to the table. He had a sneaking suspicion of what to expect, and his mouth formed an “o” when it was confirmed. Mistress carefully set a lidded plate and silverware down in front of him, shyly confessing, “I could’ve used magic or simply summoned a chef from the Outerworld, but I wanted to do things myself.”

Alucard’s warm smile soothed any uncertainty she had regarding his surprise, and she felt more confident with her dish. Her body practically buzzed with excitement as she envisioned how pleased he would look as he ate. She became so eager by these thoughts that she almost wished to stuff his mouth full of food herself! However, she silently scolded herself for thinking such things.

Okay, that’s a little too far. What am I, insane? I need to control myself. It’s only food, but —

“How considerate, thank you, Mistress,” Alucard said, picking up his fork and knife. “I can hardly remember the last time someone has cooked for me, so I can’t wait to dig in.”

She beamed. “Perhaps I can do so again if this meal satisfies you?”

He chuckled lightly. “A tempting offer.”

When she finally lifted the lid, Alucard’s glowing face quickly became cast with a shadow of disgust and confusion. He tried to mask his repulsion with delight, but his furrowed brows and tense, awkward grin betrayed his true feelings. Fortunately for him, due to Mistress Death’s initial excitement, she was none-the-wiser to his first impression of her dish. Itzhak, on the other hand, stood beside her, watching the dhampir closely and softly droning as if in thought. Briefly, Alucard wondered how a being without much of a face could appear so judgmental?

“Well,” Mistress clasped her hands together, “what do you think?”

He poked nervously at the food, examining it with a critical eye. Two unevenly sized chicken breasts sat pitifully atop a mucousy mass of some unknown substance. The chicken was wrapped in what Alucard assumed was mozzarella cheese. It was spotted with pools of reddish oil and stretched thin enough to appear transparent in some areas, revealing the pinkish color of the chicken breasts underneath.

“Ah, chicken,” he commented with a shaking voice and wrinkling nose, “one of my favorites.”

He pushed the poultry aside to dig through the reddish-brown, slimy stuff below. It looked like a massive tumor of maggots, and when he tried to separate it, it pulled apart in gooey strands.

Oh Lord, please.

Alucard was never one to pray over his food before, but now he was beginning to consider asking for some divine intervention. The texture of this stuff alone was enough to make him feel sick, so he didn’t want to imagine how it’d taste. For a moment, he gaped wordlessly at it before clearing his throat. “And what might this be?”

“Jewel worms! They’re considered a delicacy amongst the elven folk in the Outerworld. I only hope I prepared them correctly.”

“I see,” he responded, hoping that his dread didn’t seep too far into his tone. “And what are they supposed to taste like?”

To Alucard’s dismay, she shrugged. “Unfortunately, I would not know. I only followed the recipe once Itzhak brought me the ingredients.”

The maggots themselves sat upon a pile of a thick, gray mush freckled with bits of muted colors. Furthermore, the mush rested in a puddle of runny sauce that resembled muddy water.

As if reading his mind, Mistress explained, “those are mashed potatoes.”

He squinted his eyes to peer closer at it. “What are these speckled bits inside of it?”

“Maybe if you try it instead of asking me, you’d soon find out,” she answered with a wink.

He knew she was only teasing, but as vile as the food looked, her words seemed more like a threat. Even before tasting it, Alucard knew that this dish would be the worst thing he’s ever eaten, and yet, he still wanted to try it. While the glee that twinkled in Mistress Death’s eyes wasn’t enough to convince him that what she made was of any good, it was enough for him to know that she genuinely wished to present him with something she thought would make him happy. It was more than he could’ve asked for, and he couldn’t possibly reject her kindness, no matter how wretched her food was. After steeling himself with a deep breath, he gathered a piece of everything onto his fork and ate.

xXx

“You killed him.”

Mistress clicked her tongue. “Hush! I did not kill him,” she hissed, making Itzhak squirm underneath her murderous glare. The seconds ticked by, and her deadly stillness paired with a chilling silence conveyed a level of anger and threat of violence that was enough to wrench a deep, apologetic bow from his body.

“I was careless with my speech,” he quavered, then added in his alien tongue, “Forgive me, my Mistress!”

At his words, Mistress sighed in approval, stepping away from him. “I can hardly fault you, Itzhak —” she placed her hands on either side of Alucard’s head and lifted it from the table “— he does look quite…dead.”

A mess of food dirtied his face, and some jewel worms even managed to tangle themselves in the strands of his golden hair. With a huff, Mistress lazily waved her hand, magically removing the mess from his face and hair. Next, she effortlessly lifted him into her arms bridal style and turned to Itzhak. A pang of sympathy hit him as he awaited instructions from Mistress. Though her happiness earlier was not a façade, it was draining for her to be around the dhampir. The slight tremor of her arms was evidence of how tired she was becoming, and her once bright eyes had faded to a dying glow.

It’s almost as if she’s making herself sick…but why, my Mistress?

“Take him to his chambers. I don’t know when he’ll awaken, but it shouldn’t be that long. My cooking can’t be that bad,” she said bitterly, the realization of her failure beginning to sully her pride.

Once Alucard was carefully placed in his arms, he started to make his way towards the exit. The clinking of dishes led him to believe that Mistress Death was attempting to prepare another course, but when he turned around to acknowledge another command, he was surprised to see a teapot in her hand.

Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, Itzhak remarked, “I do not wish to see you this way, my Mistress. Why do you endure for the Tepes boy?”

“You should have intimate knowledge as to why I endure this pain for Adrian — I wish to make him happy. It wasn’t too long ago in your life that you’ve also endured for someone you claimed to love,” she ended with a sneer.

Empathy, Mistress Death thought, do I want Itzhak’s just for the sake of being understood, or do I not want to be seen as a fool?

He grunted in remembrance and countered, “Devotion led to my downfall. I am what I am today because I desired to endure for the sake of another.”

She laughed, the pitch of her voice rising in bewilderment. “Is that what this is about, you believe Adrian would betray me?”

Her eyes flashed dangerously when she faced him fully. “I think you’ve forgotten what I am,” she warned, an inhuman growl crisping the edge of her words. A mysterious light breeze began to push against the fire of the candles above.

Despite this, he courageously pressed on. “I have not forgotten, nor do I believe that the dhampir will betray you.”

Mistress snorted and turned her attention to the teapot in front of her. “Then why waste my time with such musings?”

“Because I know you are hurting! Your body shakes with weariness, my Mistress, and your eyes cloud with blood!”

She was rendered silent and lowered her head. The candle flames also started shivering more violently.

“I also wonder…” He glanced down at Alucard’s handsome face then back to her, “…if your desire to make him happy only stems from your guilt?”

Mistress Death’s head whipped towards Itzhak with as much swiftness as the instantaneous snuffing of the candlelight by the mysterious wind. Her eyes were wild and glassy with tears, and her teeth were bared but non-threatening; she looked deranged.

Cry, cry, cry, she urged herself. But, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Instead, she spoke with a cracking voice, “You never lost what I did…you cannot see what I do. I hurt in a way that you do not understand, and because of that, I…I am...”

Alone.

In her distress, she wished that Alucard would awaken because she wanted to talk with someone who understood. Furthermore, at this moment, when her stubbornness and pride were weak, she desired the strength to pour everything in her heart out to him. She realized that this must be the pain of loneliness, and her body started to ache from it.

Is this the real reason why I stay? Because I’m as lonely as Adrian?

Mistress turned her back on Itzhak as she attempted to control her labored breathing. With a quiet but even voice, she said, “Take Adrian to his chambers, then complete the other task which I’ve commanded you.”

He sighed and nodded. “As you wish, Mistress.”

When he left, she tried to bury her feelings once again as she clutched the teapot tightly to her chest. The only thing that kept her from shattering it in her grip was that it once belonged to Lisa.

Alucard’s eyes opened slowly. His mind was hazy, so he kept still and stared above at the wispy, white curtains of his canopy bed, waiting to remember what had happened to him.

Itzhak. Surprise. Mistress. Food — ah, that’s right. I must’ve blacked out after I ate her food.

He shivered at the memory and became nauseated by the lingering taste in his mouth. As he stood and made his way to the door, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He knew that either Mistress Death or Itzhak carried him back to bed, and when he opened the door, he was greeted by the latter.

“You are awake,” Itzhak commented in monotone.

“Yes, how long was I unconscious?”

The creature raised a bony finger to his chin and droned. “About an hour from the last time you were awake.”

Alucard’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“While I carried you up the stairs, you awoke suddenly and vomited, then passed out again.”

He cringed at that. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to cause you such trouble.”

“I have dealt with worse.”

With Itzhak in close step behind him, Alucard made his way to the bathroom.

He glanced behind himself and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to follow me.”

“I don’t want to, but Mistress has commanded me to keep watch over you, in case you pass out again.”

“How thoughtful of her,” he mumbled.

Once he made it to the bathroom, he quickly shut the door behind him before Itzhak had a chance to step inside; But, almost jumped out of his skin when he turned around to see him standing in the middle of the room.

He growled, “Does she intend for you to babysit me while I piss as well?”

Itzhak scratched his head. “She didn’t specify—”

“Get out.”

xXx

This time, the kitchen was colder and darker when Alucard stepped into it. The candles were gone, so the only light that illuminated the space was the moonlight that poured in from the windows. Mistress sat at the table stock-still with her hands surrounding a steaming cup of tea, and her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping. Alucard hummed in thought and sat next to her, spotting the cup of tea that was waiting for him. Mistress didn’t notice when he sat down, nor when Itzhak materialized into the kitchen, and it caused the dhampir to worry. Something was amiss with her, and he didn’t like it.

He cupped her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Mistress?”

When she opened her eyes, they were pitch black, and after she blinked, they returned to normal. “Adrian, it’s nice to see that you’re awake. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, after brushing the taste from my mouth I do, thank you. Are you alright?”

She merely nodded.

“What were you doing?”

She stirred the tea in her cup distractedly. “Just thinking.”

“Of?”

“Death,” she replied matter-of-factly before taking a sip.

He removed his hand from her shoulder and grimaced. “How very fitting,” he said dryly.

After a few moments, she gestured to his teacup. “I found these neglected at the back of your cabinet.”

Alucard huffed a laugh as he traced the golden rim of the floral teacup with his finger. “I was never much of a tea drinker. I only ever drink it when visiting with witches in Arges — my mother, on the other hand, was a different story.”

At this, her voice grew lively. “Oh, I know. Day and night, Lisa would drink it. She was practically addicted.”

“Indeed, she was,” he laughed.

Fondness sparkled in Mistress’s eyes as she traced the designs on the saucer. “This set was a gift from me for one of Lisa’s wedding anniversaries. We used to drink tea all the time together in the castle garden.”

“Really?”

Alucard angled his body slightly closer to her as if he’d hang on better to every word she said this way. His heart warmed at the mention of another speaking so tenderly about his mother. And, he hoped that Mistress would continue speaking of her recollections, for both of their sakes.

“Your mother was always polite enough to drink the tea I prepared. No matter how sweet or how bitter it ended up, she at least took a sip. However, I did get better overtime…with her help of course.”

The pleasant smile she flashed him was contagious.

“I took the liberty of having Itzhak retrieve your mother’s favorite tea flavor from the Outerworld — It’s called Rose of Sharon. I prepared it just as she would’ve liked it. Try some.”

The confidence she had in the drink was assuring, so Alucard did not hesitate to bring the cup to his lips. He was delighted by its floral aroma, which enhanced the sweet and fresh taste. Drinking the tea felt somewhat nostalgic since it reminded him of the perfume his mother used to wear. Oddly, the times he used to spend in the garden with his father, studying botany, also flooded his memory.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly after his first sip, licking his lips as he set the cup on the saucer. “That was very good. You’re quite masterful at tea-making, Mistress,” he praised.

She blinked surprisingly at him. “You mean it?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Pfft. Well, after considering your last little —” her eyes squinted suspiciously “— stunt, I took you as someone who enjoyed savoring the moment before crushing one’s misplaced optimism.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you seriously that offended?”

She gave him a side look and drank from her cup.

His eyes narrowed. “Come now, don’t act so childish. While I appreciate your efforts, I won’t deny that what you served me was more akin to poison than anything else.”

“Poison?” she drawled. “Ha! Funny. Maybe the fault lies not in my food but your weak stomach.”

“That’s rich, coming from someone who probably hasn’t even tasted food before. If the state of my kitchen was any indication of the quality of your meal, then it would’ve been wiser for me to pass.”

The tea set jumped with a clank when Mistress slammed her cup on the table. Surprisingly, nothing broke. “Hmph! Be that as it may, there is no better judge in this room than dear Itzhak. He’ll eat practically anything.” As if on cue, he appeared at the far end of the table where Mistress’s abomination still lay.

Alucard arched a brow. “If he’ll eat anything then his judgment would hardly be fair—”

“Nonsense.”

She smiled sweetly at Itzhak. “Go on, take a bite. Tell me how it is.”

He lifted the plate to the mouth that was forming on his face. It opened unnaturally wide to receive everything in one bite. The taste didn’t seem like much of a big deal once he closed his mouth to chew, but after a few moments, he started to retch and cough. When a thick, stringy piece of chicken fat flew out the corner of his mouth, he slurped it back inside, gagging as he did so. Mistress Death’s smile fell more and more with every wet burp and heave Itzhak emitted until her face eventually settled into an angry pout. On the other hand, Alucard was leaning back with his arms crossed, smirking smugly. After struggling to swallow, a shudder ran from the top of Itzhak’s head to the bottom of his feet.

Once his face returned to normal, he gurgled, “It — it’s…good, Mis—”

“Oh, shut up.”

Alucard chuckled, “Well, I think that settles things.” He pushed away from the table and walked towards the door.

Mistress looked at him quizzically. “Where are you going?”

Before leaving the kitchen, he switched on the lights and answered, “Off to retrieve some things. Hopefully, your pride isn’t so wounded that you plan on sitting there, sulking all night.”

Mistress stared at the cutting board, knife in hand. “You must be joking.”

“I most certainly am not,” Alucard replied, setting freshly washed vegetables in front of them. He dried his hands off on a towel and moved beside her.

“You mentioned earlier about possibly cooking for me again, correct? If your offer still stands, then I expect you to do things better the next time. Now, pay attention.”

Mistress raised a brow but couldn’t help to smile. She knew that Alucard wasn’t doing this to belittle her or show off. He was as much of a teacher as his parents, and sharing knowledge seems to be a quality he has similar to his mother. Plus, she had a feeling that he wanted to spend time with her as well, and she found that endearing.

Alucard held up a potato and rotated it to examine. “Potato skin is more nutritious than the potatoes themselves, and I washed them, so there is no need to remove them for this dish.”

Next, he set it on his cutting board and grabbed a knife, explaining, “Hold it crosswise and make sure to maintain it so that it doesn’t roll away while you cut. We’ll need to slice the potatoes like so, making sure each piece is even.”

He demonstrated until the entire potato was sliced. “Now, you try.”

Mistress nodded. “Alright.”

Halfway through cutting a potato, Alucard stopped her, patiently saying, “Your slices are uneven and too thick. Look at mine again, you see? They need to be uniform so that they all cook evenly.”

She tried again, and when he voiced his approval, they cut the rest together.

“You know a lot about cooking, it seems.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to learn here on my own. Some dishes I prepare are ones my mother used to make, and ones that I remember from places the castle traveled to. However, most are a result of experimentation or taken from books.”

She looked up in thought. “Hmm, now that I think about it, I do remember seeing an entire section of Dracula’s library containing nothing but cookbooks. Funny, since he rarely ever cooked.”

“He liked to collect knowledge,” Alucard said with a shrug.

She snorted. “Please, Adrian, call it what it was.”

“What?”

“Hoarding.”

The laughter he barked caused her eyes to crinkle at the corners.

“You must’ve teased my father a lot.”

“Heh heh, yes, more than you know.”

He cleared his throat. “Add these potatoes to the bowl. I already have minced garlic on hand, so let’s chop the spinach and halve these cherry tomatoes.”

She did as instructed and followed along with his guidance. Afterward, they moved everything over to the stove where he had raw chicken breasts waiting.

“Luckily, I had extra chicken stored, so there’s just enough for all three of us.”

From where Itzhak sat at the table, his head perked up. “Three?”

Alucard nodded. “It would be rude of me not to include you, Itzhak.”

The creature droned in response and cocked his head to the side as he watched him teach Mistress how to cook chicken properly. He noticed how her shoulders would sink then quickly raise back up whenever the dhampir looked away then back to her. However, her voice was still full of as much mirth she could express despite her weariness, and she was enjoying his company immensely. However, being around Alucard was a double-edged sword for Mistress, and Itzhak was concerned for the day putting on a brave face would become too arduous a task for her.

He was brought out of these thoughts when a savory aroma triggered his mouth to form, just so it could water.

“You never add more than what the recipe calls for. One cup of heavy cream might not look like enough for this, but it is,” Alucard informed.

“I see. Maybe that’s why my jewel worms came out the way they did.”

“I thought you said you followed the recipe?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Mmm, I may have…added a few things here and there. Don’t look at me like that.”

After combining the other ingredients, they waited for everything to simmer. In the meantime, Mistress set the table while Alucard left to grab some wine. When he returned, it was time to serve the food.

Silverware clinked against the porcelain plates as the trio ate in comforting silence. Given Itzhak’s large hands, he looked like a giant eating with the utensils of a dwarf. Even still, he didn’t let that stop him from enjoying his meal…maybe a little too much.

Mistress huffed exasperatedly. “For the love of — Itzhak, please, you do not have to moan like that after every bite!” She cursed in her alien language then added, “Honestly, are you eating or making love?”

Alucard chuckled, and Itzhak even released a few sounds akin to a laugh.

“It should be a compliment to you, Mistress. He’s only enjoying what you’ve made.”

“What we’ve made. And, you’re right, it is, so thank you, Itzhak. But, don’t be so dramatic about it next time,” she said with mock irritation but cracked a smile at him to signal that she was only teasing.

Light conversation was spoken between the three of them as they finished eating, and when Mistress and Itzhak exchanged a few words to one another in their language, Alucard drank from his wineglass.

As he did so, little Trevor and little Sypha had caught his eye from across the kitchen, and he could almost picture a smile on their faces. The wine tasted much sweeter that night.

A large bubble floated into the air, distorting the reflection of Mistress and Alucard as they stood side by side, washing dishes.

“This was my first time sharing a meal with someone,” she confessed, dunking a plate into the warm water.

“Really? I’m surprised given how much time you’ve spent with my parents.”

“I only ever drank tea with Lisa, and occasionally, wine with Dracula. But, I’ve never shared a meal with them…you’re my first.”

Alucard almost dropped a plate. A light blush stained his cheeks at her choice of words, given how innocently she said them.

“Right —” he hid his face with his hair “— well, did you enjoy it, then?”

He heard her soft laugh and froze when he felt her nails tickle the side of his face as she brushed his hair behind his ear. The motion compelled him to look at her, and despite her actions, he saw neither amusement nor teasing in her eyes, only pure adoration.

“Very,” she answered.

When they finished, Mistress Death’s attire and hair transformed back to the way they originally looked. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with Itzhak by her side.

“There are things I must attend to.”

Alucard looked to the floor. “I understand.”

“Now now, pick your head up. There's no need to look so downhearted and blue.”

Like a nervous boy, he spoke with a quiet voice. “If...if it isn’t too much to ask, may I see you again?” He kept his head bowed, not wanting to glance up for risk of seeing any rejection in her expression.

She lifted his strong chin with her knuckle. Intense, pale eyes were level to his, reflecting his eyes and hair like specks of gold. Her trademarked stillness did not chill nor intimidate Alucard this time. To him, it seemed fragile, as if she’d dart away with any small movement on his behalf, so he kept still too and held his breath as if it’d blow her away if he released it. The longer he studied her face, the more her weariness revealed itself to him. A sadness slowly seeped to the surface of her eyes, then ebbed away and flowed back. It was a push and pull of vulnerability that seemed like she was trying to reveal something to him, and yet, would not — could not?

He itched to know what she was trying to say.

Mistakenly, his lips parted to speak, and he cursed inwardly as she hastily pulled away. But it wasn’t before he caught the pain that had briefly flashed through her eyes. She pulled her hood over her head, concealing most of her face in shadow.

His brow furrowed in concern. “Mistress? What is—”

“I enjoyed my stay very much so I’ll return to you as soon as I can. It won’t be as long of a wait as last time.”

He frowned. One thing Alucard hated was tiptoeing around, but he acquiesced, simply because he didn’t want her to shut him out completely.

She uttered a word to him in her language that sounded lyrical, then explained, “That is my word of promise.”

When he tried repeating it back to her, she giggled at his slight butchering. “You were close.”

Black smoke rose from the ground where Mistress and Itzhak stood and slowly rotated up their forms.

“Until then, Adrian.”

“Until then, Mistress.”

Itzhak waved, and Alucard raised his hand in farewell, seeing the two of them off with a genuine smile.

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airiustide · 4 years

Text

forever young. forever you.

Chapter 5: Hesitancy

Summary: The gaang is all together now but sadly Iroh has not made it yet. Zuko uses this opportunity to make up for lost times but things do not go as planned when Sokka makes a taboo suggestion and the others agree, including Aang.

Katara's upset about Zuko claiming he had nothing to lose, but for how long when he always manages to tug at her heartstrings?

A/N: Sorry for the slow update but just to reassure everyone, this will get completed, with only two more chapters to go. It makes me happy to know that you all have loyally been following this story. I will not disappoint you. It's taken some time but here is chapter 5! I'll warn you, the feels only get deeper in this chapter, so prepare your hearts.

also posted on: AO3

***

" I tend to lose my sense of time and come the morning. Stayed aside. I know it's much too soon to tell you that I need you by my side. But who are we to call each other selfish lovers? We all need someone." - Hold by Dabin and Daniela Andrade.

***

Zuko stares incredulously at the burnt fish thrown in front of him on a silver plate. His brow bunches, looking at an angry Katara wiping her hands clean on the front of her robe and taking off to retrieve her meal which was perfectly cooked and neatly arranged for a nice dinner.

He looks at her, then back at his obliterated dinner, then back at her. She didn’t bother making rice for two so he was left with a fish that looked as though it were suffering severely, even in the afterlife. And Katara happens to be that mad, so Zuko doesn’t doubt she’s capable of making that happen.

“Is there, uh, tea?”

‘Yes, there’s tea bags in the kitchen cabinet and a nice kettle, feel free to make as much as you’d like.”

“Oh.” He’s in the doghouse. He’s definitely in the doghouse. “Would you like some?”

“Nope. I’m good.” Katara lifts the cup of tea she personally made for herself to her lips and takes a long sip. She had been short since the raid ended. Piandao had offered his residence to the couple to rest on their two week journey to Caldera. Just in case, Zuko had sent out letters via messenger hawk to all the gaang telling them of his and Katara’s whereabouts.

Katara argued that it was best to wait in person to tell them but time was not on his side. He went straight to the point and thought it a best to explain once they met. It would hasten things, though Zuko felt awful for telling his friends he was dying through a letter.

The worst part was sending one to his uncle. He was not straight to the point with this one. No. Zuko apologized in every way he could think of in the letter before diving deeper into the tragedy that befell him and if he was to pass from this world before he made it home, he wanted his uncle to know how deeply sorry he was and that he loved him more than someone who supported him, he loved him as a father.

Katara told him it was very genuine but afterwards left to pack and he could hear her burst out in a fit of sobs from the other room. She only spoke when necessary but deep down this was killing her and Zuko began to falter at the idea of being together. Despite this, his qualms did not outweigh his selfishness. Many things have changed about him, but not his possessiveness, not when he finally had Katara by his side.

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You are mad.”

“Why would I be mad? It’s not like I have anything to lose.”

And that strikes him through the heart like an arrow. He pokes and prods at his dinner, charred and unappetizing. It didn’t matter because Katara made it, even though it was cooked to a crisp on purpose, she took her time to provide him a meal. So reluctantly, Zuko picks through as much of the fish as he could, downing a cup of water to get through what tasted like gummy tar. He pinches his nose to deflect the smell but that doesn’t stop it from gagging his refluxes.

Katara examines him from across the table, humming in feign satisfaction as she ate. “Don’t forget the eyes.” Katara mentions, “They're good for your health.”

I fear for my health , Zuko thought, staring at the blackened pebbles that used to be eyes. But he eats that too and the rest until there’s nothing but bone, head and tail left. All he has to do at this point is keep it down.

He ate it. He actually ate it. She thinks behind her disbelief.

Katara stays quiet through the rest of dinner, coming around the table to take Zuko’s plate to clean. He offers to help and she doesn’t reply. This is a sign that she wants to be left alone.

***

The bitter loneliness blanketed his heart. Katara lied next to him in bed, softly sleeping and yet he still felt alone. He tried to apologize, wanting to assure her that he was not referring to her when he said he had nothing to lose. In fact, he didn’t mean it because he had everything to lose. For him, it’s...easier to distance himself. Distance was the place to retreat when he didn’t have the guts to face reality.

Katara deserved better, much better. That’s why this uncertainty swelling like a ball in his chest ached.

She did not accept his apology nor did she discuss it further. Albeit, she stays by his side, providing him with whatever she thought he needed even when he doesn’t ask for it. She remains close, walking with him in silence and sleeping next to him.

She felt so good, so close yet far away. Katara was more than dear to him; she was his light. She possesses more fire in her spirit than the most powerful of firebenders. A depiction of everything he wishes he could be, if only a fraction.

Zuko really needs to reevaluate, determine just what it is he should do from now on. There’s so little time, so little time to figure it all out. His life’s mission is over. Ukano is dead and the only reason Zuko wasn’t turned in and jailed is because of Piandao’s and Jee’s sympathy.

They’ll find the former governor in his secret bunker, the very one Zuko tipped off to the lotus. They’ll see the ghastly wounds from his dao swords, pierced through Ukano’s chest and stomach and Piandao will come up with a lie to protect the former Fire Lord.

Zuko thinks of Mai in that moment; wonders if she is aware of her father’s misdeeds, and if not, how it will affect her. He gave Ukano a chance to turn himself in, to get another chance at reuniting with his family once again, but the man’s pride outweighed the desire to do right by his wife and children.

That’s why Zuko killed him. Ukano was beyond saving.

Seeing the light leave his eyes was a reminder that soon the light will fade from Zuko as well. That’s why he broke down in front of Katara. He’s rejected all the fear and desperation buried inside him for so long, it was bound to resurface. Pretending that death didn’t consume every aspect of his thoughts were easier than accepting that it ate at him every single second of every single day.

Then she showed up in the dark; his light.

Zuko’s gaze lingered down at Katara, who had now scooted closer to his side; one leg thrown over his and her hand rested on his chest at the very center where his scar lied. He smiles when she unknowingly caresses it, muttering his name. He can see her eyelids flutter while closed and her features twist. He kisses her cheek, Katara exhaling a soft sigh and her face relaxes into a serene state, a small smile appearing on her lips.

“I cant promise you the world.” He whispers against her cheek. “But I can give you mine, all of mine, and I hope that- I only hope, that that is enough.”

***

Day broke. Katara wipes the sleep from her eyes and turns on her side and bolts upright when she realizes the space on the bed next to her is empty. “Zuko?” He’s not there. Since knowing Zuko’s condition, Katara could only jump to the worst of conclusions. “Zuko?” She calls again.

No answer.

She throws the blanket from her lap. Hopping out of the bed barefoot she grabs a robe that had been thrown over the nightstand and jogs out the bedroom door. Katara forgets she’s stayed in Piandao’s estate the last two days. It may have been less if not for Zuko getting exhausted on their way here on the airship; unable to concentrate while maneuvering the machine. She has no clue where she is going but she has to get to Zuko as soon as possible, just to know he’s fine.

I swear to La if anything happens to him, I’m going to kill him!

She makes a strangled sound between a sob and a laugh, rushing through the halls to the kitchen, the living area, the study, the meatery, the weapons room. She swallows down the ball lodged in her throat, becoming frantic by the minute. Her surroundings whirling into a blur.

She’ll forget being mad, she made a deal with the universe, just give her a sign.

Her feet come to a screeching halt when she spots a torn parchment on the ground wondering to the estate’s garden that expands to a view of the stretched out river behind it. There’s something written in it, Katara approaching to investigate, otherwise she might have overlooked it.

Before I leave this world ... It says.

That’s it. Katara flips the parchment over and there’s nothing. She looks around and about ten feet away from where she finds the first one, there’s another. Katara quickly picks it up.

I wish to spar swords with Sokka

A smile broke on her face. Sokka certainly wasn’t the most skilled of swordsmen- okay, he wasn’t skilled- but he would appreciate the challenge. With a little more bounce in her step, she finds another lying in the grass and picks it up as well.

I wish to give Toph the life-changing field trip she’s always wanted

She chokes a laugh.

I wish to learn Kyoshi techniques from Suki

Katara is reminded how Zuko raved about the Kyoshi warriors after they were assigned to guard him upon taking the throne.

I want Uncle to know that he didn’t fail me. That he isn’t just a relative but everything I’ve wanted in a father. I only hope that I have made him proud

This one made her tear up. Every note brought out every piece of Zuko. A part of her is selfishly happy that she’s the first to know these many things about him. Her heart flutters with excitement, collecting the notes in her arms.

Katara slows when the next one she picks up she spots Aang’s name on it. There’s this momentary dread. Aang and her falling out isn’t because of mutual understanding. Katara soon learned the difference between what she held for Aang and what love actually meant to her and before she knew it, years went by. Moving to Republic City in hopes that they could mend only proved how different they were.

She sighs, closing and opening her eyes, and reads on.

I wish for Aang to forgive me for what I will reveal next

Oh. Katara twisted her fingers at the side of her robe. Her cheeks flush and her heart hammers in her chest as she treks closer to what she now realizes is the final note.

I wish to take Katara to that field of chrysanthemums, where the sun will set beyond the edge of the world and the moon is visible in the sky before night falls, so that in that perfect moment when I look in her eyes, I can finally tell her ‘I love you’

The notes fell from her arms, the only one she holds in the palm of her hands is the one about her.

“This-” She begins.

Zuko’s standing where the cliff overlooks the river, leaning against a boulder for support. “I love you.” He confesses, a bouquet of fire lilies in his right hand. He sounds weak and is flustered but the broad smile on his face made him look more alive than he had in years.

He takes a step and Katara sobs, running into his arms. It wasn’t the sunset, the moon wasn’t in the sky and they weren’t surrounded by a field of chrysanthemums. It doesn’t matter, because this very moment when Katara says ‘I love you too’ is better than any fantasy Zuko could conjure.

“I love you.” He says aloud again, his voice in a low husk and the warmth between them flares.

Her heart jump starts in her chest. A callous hand cusped the back of her head and Katara mewled softly, allowing Zuko to pull her halfway. All train of thought swept away.

***

Katara can’t stop kissing him; his lips, his cheeks, his neck, his forehead. A laugh bubbles in her chest as Zuko’s gasps and moans at her intense affection. She can tell he likes it, his hands gripping at her sides while she straddles his lap on the bed. Zuko thinks he should bring her fire lilies and tell her he loves her everyday from now on.

“Katara.” He tries to pause to no avail, having been in bed from morning until noon making out. “We should- mmm- probably have lunch.”

“In a minute.” She chuckles, grinning wolfishly when she bites his bottom lip and tugs gently.

“Oh, okay. In a minute then.” He concedes. Agni, he goes weak for her, bunching his fingers into the back of her robe. Zuko leans up, meeting Kaara in a hard kiss and rolls his tongue into her mouth and he loves the ways she mewls.

Suddenly Zuko spasms and his body is thrown back onto the bed. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Zuko!” She cries, reacting quickly and calling water from a nearby pitcher to her hand. She rips open his tunic, bending the water to his chest and manages to calm the seizure. He’s had at least two since coming here, so it came as no surprise this time. “Oh, Spirits, are you okay?”

It takes a bit before he’s coherent, his fluttering eyes finally opening to see a worried Katara. He hated seeing her like this, and so decides to ease the tension of him losing himself right when they were in the middle of kissing. “Sorry, I got a little too excited.”

His weak laugh is interrupted with an ‘oof’ as a pillow collides with his face.

She’s mad, the waterbender climbing off his lap and back turned. It wasn’t the least bit funny. Though, she will admit she liked hearing his laugh again but she was shaken, still distraught that in that moment he could have been lost to her forever.

“Katara.” He whispers, the stir of regret mixing in with his sincerity and she hates herself for forgiving him so easily. Spirits, she just wanted to kiss him.

“What?” She snaps, keeping up with her false anger, huffing.

“I’m sorry. I tried to make light of a situation and- that was uncalled for. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Katara’s shoulders stiffen and her breath stills at the warmth on her back. Large hands slide around her torso, settling gently on her stomach. His mouth settles nicely at the pulse of her neck and the waterbender closes her eyes as he breathes her in. Gooseflesh rose where his lips rested, leaving an imprint that would forever stay in Katara’s mind.

Damn it all to hell, she can’t stay mad at him. At least give me that , Katara thought, but there was no winning.

“Never again.” She frowns, finally giving him her attention. The tears stung her eyes, a stray one trickling down her cheek and Zuko sweetly sweeps it away with the pad of his thumb.

“Never again.” He promises.

***

Zuko can’t believe it. They’re all the same people he knew but they weren’t. Aang, Sokka, Toph, Suki...all of them were here before him, staring at him as though he was some sort of creature crawling out from the sea. He grips the hand of his lover and the cane she had crafted for him. Zuko’s choked, unsure of what to say now that everyone he loves is finally in front of him.

Zuko notes that Sokka closes his eyes in disbelief. They can see it all; his pale skin, his thin figure, his sunken cheeks, all of him. Zuko wants to cry because this was not how he wanted to reunite with his friends. Even with that in mind he can’t get over how intensely Aang is staring at him and his hand linked with Katara’s. How can he ever explain this to him.

“How long?” Aang asks, finally looking Zuko in the eye.

Zuko swallows. “Um- I…” Where should he begin? Just because he’s dying doesn’t mean that Aang will forgive him for being with Katara.

Aang walks up to him and stops only several feet. Their heights are the same, a reminder that the Avatar isn’t the scrawny little twelve year old he once hunted.

“Aang...I can’t begin to explain- Huh?” Aang pulls Zuko into a harsh hug. The Avatar’s body is shaking uncontrollably and Zuko’s hesitant on what to do next.

“Don’t- Don’t. You. Ever ...make us worry like that again .” Aang is crying, clinging to his best friend. Zuko buries his face in Aang’s shoulder as the rest of the gaang joins them one by one. He was not expecting this, to be enveloped in the love and support of his once newfound family. He should have done this sooner, he should have given himself and them that at least.

***

“You’ve known since the beginning.” Aang concludes, shadows darkening his features. Zuko had explained everything in Piandao’s living area. Aang sat crossed legged on the floor, Sokka and Suki held hands tightly next to each other on the lounge chair and Toph was leaning with her back against the wall. “How could I have not caught on? I should have guessed what you were going through- damn it, it didn’t feel right!”

Everyone’s brow shot up, having heard for the first time Aang swear.

“It would not have changed anything.” Zuko sighs. “I was stubborn. Getting away was the only solution I could come up with. And besides, Uncle and Koji were my drive behind me leaving in the first place.”

“But maybe I could have convinced you otherwise. Maybe we could have come up with a solution together.”

“Maybe.” Zuko dismisses. They can’t focus on the what-ifs of the past. They were all here now with the exception of Iroh, a family again. In fact, Zuko is becoming more frantic on how soon his uncle will make it here, having sent Iroh his letter first.

“Look, maybe there’s a cure or something. There has to be a solution?” Sokka suggests.

“I told you, Yugoda says there’s nothing more she can do.”

“That she can do. She’s not the only famous healer, Katara what about you?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried, Sokka?” She snaps at her brother. “Sorry. It’s just been sinking in much longer for me. It’s been hard for me.”

“Because you love him.” Suki chimed in.

Katara stiffens as though she’s on the spot and unintentionally glances at Aang who’s hanging his head but nods. “Yes. Because I love him. Besides, I’m not as skilled as Yugoda and if she doesn’t have the power or techniques to save him, what makes you think I can?”

“Well,” Sokka looks around at his friends, “because you can bloodbend.” Everyone jumps out of their seats in horror save Toph.

“Are you mad?!” Aang shouts.

“Sokka, think before you blurt out something insensitive.” Suki reprimands.

“Why not? Katara’s the best waterbending master in the world and if anyone’s capable of saving Zuko, it’s her. Look, I’m not a fan either but bloodbending has proven to be a powerful bending form and who’s to say it doesn’t have healing benefits?”

“Katara never stuck around to find out and it’s probably for the best.” Aang argued.

“Snoozles is right.” Toph retorted, finally speaking up since listening to Zuko’s story. “It could save Zuko’s life. Just because Hama used it for evil purposes doesn’t mean the form itself should be used for evil purposes.”

Wow , Katara thought when Toph spoke, no nickname. That’s when you knew the earthbender was serious.

“Thank you!”

“There’s one problem.” Katara sighs. “I don’t think I can do it. The only two times I have, was purely out of anger. I don’t know if I have the ability to heal with bloodbending as the source.”

“Well, Sokka may be onto something.” Suki settles back in her seat. “You have great concentration, Katara. You can tap into things no one else can, it’s worth a shot at saving Zuko, you have to believe that. If it were Sokka, I know I’d do everything I can even if it happens to be taboo.” The Kyoshi warrior encloses a hand over her husband’s.

“I-” Aang starts, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, if it were to save him, I don’t know how I could ever argue with that.”

“See, sugarqueen. Everyone else agrees.”

Katara ponders over this. She could try, it's the least she can do. “There’s a full moon two weeks from now but, I’m afraid there’s the off chance of this hindering Zuko’s health, so it might call for several sessions. But if Zuko trusts me- ”

Zuko taps his cane hard on the floor. “No.”

“No?” Katara questions. “You don’t trust me?”

“No. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don’t want to spend my remaining days alive like that. I want you by my side but not as my healer. I will not pass on with the memory of you taking care of me like a sick patient and I certainly don’t want you blaming yourself if anything were to go wrong.”

“But this could be your chance. Listen to Katara. Even I agree with this.” Aang tries to reason with him.

“I appreciate it, I do. Having you all here means the world to me but I called you here for your company, not a solution. There is no solution and if bloodbending happens to be that, I refuse to put Katara through it.”

***

They dropped the conversation for Zuko. Instead they all enjoyed a quiet meal Zuko himself had made for them out in the garden. Katara is anxious the whole time because she’s been kicked out of the kitchen and told to relax with the others. Everyone compliments the meal and Zuko is proud to admit that his time living alone forced him to work on his cooking skills.

During a quiet night of conversation and warm saki, the gaang updates Zuko on how they are currently doing. Sokka and Suki of course got married and have two beautiful twin girls, now being watched by Gran Gran during their time here. Aang raves on about Republic City and describes how it was everything he and Zuko had envisioned and Zuko wishes he could have been there to see it. And Toph proudly announces her metalbending school.

There’s so much to catch up on and so little time. Zuko’s overwhelmed by how much he’s missed out, excusing himself and leaving to wash the dishes. Katara follows him to the kitchen.

“Talk to me, Zuko.”

“We have been talking. We’ve talked all night.”

“Not about the others, about me healing you.”

“Kat, I told you. I’m done discussing it.”

“I’m not. You’re not giving this a chance, I really believe this is it. If it were the other way around, wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

His face falls into his hands, trying hard not to get worked up. This is Katara; his love, his life and she’s only being thoughtful. Zuko had to find a way to convey to her how this is making him feel. “Katara, you mean well, I get it. I understand where you’re coming from but this is what I want. I’m a dying man with no future. This,” he gently takes her hand, “is worth more to me than spending a possibility of a million days bedridden. I want to die seeing your loving eyes, not sadness on your face. I want to go in peace. I’m not asking you to accept it, I’m asking you to honor it.”

She couldn’t fight that. It pains her but she couldn’t deflect his wishes. The stubborn side of her wants to persuade him but the empathetic side of her gets where he’s coming from.

“I want to marry you, Katara.”

Blue eyes widen. “Zuko…”

“Marry me.” He whispers, leaning his forehead to hers, reflecting the smile stretching on her quivering lips. A warm finger touches her lips and Katara closes her eyes. “Marry me tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Zuko pulls her into his embrace, laughing joyously, dropping his cane so that he could lift her by the waist and swing her around. Katara yelps, wrapping her arms around his neck, the world around them moves in slow motion. The light in Zuko’s eyes fade to dark and a confused Katara collapses on top of him as he falls.

“Zuko?” This isn’t a seizure, he knows it isn't. “Zuko!”

It’s too late.

“Sokka! Aang! Somebody!”

I’m sorry.

“No. No. No. No…”

Her voice fades and Zuko’s heart beats weak to a stop.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #zuko #katara #alta #zutara week 2020 #day 5 #hesitency

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larosepompon · 5 years

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Almost There - Ghost!Jungwoo x Reader

Hi all - have some paranormal fluff (I know - for once I’m not writing anything gory or dirty?? Christ on a Bike!) of a 90s ghost Jungwoo who resides in your apartment block. A/N: A lot of the instances that I used in the story are things that often happened to me in my old family home. (obvs not making out with a ghost lol) We had a benevolent poltergeist that used to take pens and pencils and put them on top of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, turn lights on and off and pull out books from the bookshelf outside my room etc. If you want to know more about random crap that’s happened to me - send me an ask! Ghosties and the paranormal are my favourite discussion topics! Our story starts as many of these tales do; in a new apartment in a new city. Neo City’s downtown was conversely a mixture of old and new, for example, your apartment complex that was in a listed period building. Climbing the chequered-tile stairs, you carefully ascended to the third floor with the last of your moving boxes. Blowing some strands of hair out of your eyes, you caught a glimpse over your box of someone at the end of the hallway, watering plants under the stained-glass window. “Hi, nice to meet you!” Voicing out cheerfully as you bent down to put the box by your front door. Your smile faltering when the figure was already gone as you looked back up. Odd was the first thought in your head, patting your cheeks lightly to regain a sense of normality.

The rest of the move went rather smoothly, digging out some old cassette tapes and vinyl’s, singing softly to old tunes as you hung pictures up on the teal walls, arranged soft furnishings and house plants around your large studio. Soon the light dimmed down and you found yourself sitting on the bench of your tall bay window – the feature that drew you to this particular flat in the first place. The sun cast her last golden rays as she bid you goodnight, bathing your limbs and face in a radiant warmth. The ice in your glass protesting as it began to melt, condensation pooling atop of your knee where your beverage was perched. Closing your eyes, you sighed with content, finally relaxing in a space you could finally call your own. Perhaps an hour or so went by with you nursing your drink and humming along to music from your childhood, when you heard a distinct knock at your door. Maybe it’s one of my neighbours you thought, padding over to unlock it. The hallway though, was empty, save for a small breeze that carried a sweet and green scent. “That’s the second time today… you can say hello if you want!” You call out into the hallway, seemingly at nobody. Letting some of the tension out of your shoulders as you close the door, you decide to get ready for bed after your long day. It’s not long until you’re wiping your face after brushing your teeth, making your way over to your comfy new bed, slipping under the covers. As you drift off to sleep, the bed dips and in comes the sweet fragrance once more. You dream of a handsome boy with curtains.

You’re thoroughly puzzled, looking for your toothbrush the next morning. It wasn’t until you looked up and it was placed on top of the medicine cabinet that you thought you had gone crazy. You had only one drink the previous night and had never been known to sleepwalk. Glancing at your reflection with a furrowed brow, all the rational thoughts go through your mind before ignoring it altogether. Today was your first full day living in the city, so you set off to explore new cafes, shops and relaxing spots. It was another sunny day, with a gentle breeze that ruffled your hair from time to time – making for the perfect day to watch the world go by. Well, that was what you had planned anyhow, if not for every café that you fancied being packed out. “Right, let’s not let this ruin our day…” you sigh under your breath, scanning your surroundings for something to take home. Settling on an artisan bakery with luscious pastries and sourdough in the window, you eyed up a few treats to pack up with you. Luckily the walk home was quite short, letting you take time to stroll through the bustling streets before reaching your new abode. As you fished for your keys in the depths of your bag nearing the landing, your peripheral view caught something that made you stop dead in your tracks: the back of someone’s frame going into your apartment, through your door. Scrambling to see if they had broken in, a wave of panic spread through you as your eyes scanned the – very closed – door. Your hand couldn’t help but shake lightly when your keys eased into the lock, making way for your entry. Flattening your palm to the surface, you pushed open the door, bracing yourself for what could be inside. Yet you found nothing… “Hello?! I-I j-just saw you come in here.” You blurt out into the space around you. “Is anybody there?” It was difficult to think yourself stupid at that very moment in time, heart hammering away in your chest, bravely trying to speak out at seemingly nothing. Luckily for you, a studio apartment leaves very little space for anyone (or anything) to hide in - so you eventually found yourself dropping your bags on the kitchen counter and scampering over to the bathroom to check for any strangers. Relief settled in when you found that indeed, nobody has broken into your apartment. Your eyes homed into your bedspread - with a single flowerhead lain on top of it. Like the ones in the hall… you remember, thoughts conflicting over whether this was a new-found stalker or something paranormal leaving you gifts on your bed. Still trembling, you carefully trod toward your bed, hair spilling over your shoulders as you leant down to pick up the flower. The petals a soft creamy colour, wrinkled at the edges, giving them an almost forlorn look to them. You thumbed the petals absentmindedly, all previous ill thoughts dissipating from your mind bringing a soft smile to your features. “Thank you…” you whispered into the air, a faded image of a tall, pretty boy smiling by your wall.

For about a week you see or hear no sign of ghostly activity in your home or about the hallway, but often find yourself dreaming of the mystery boy with a bright smile and a very floppy, 90s haircut. You don’t recall ever meeting anyone like him before, often showing up in your dreams with ripped jeans and a check shirt or a denim jacket; he always appeared very friendly though. One night you hear his voice for the first time, a gentle tone that lulls you further into your slumber. Little did you know that the boy was sat beside you, smiling down at your sleeping figure, listening to your mumbled voice and quiet sighs as he stroked your hair as best as he could. You awoke feeling refreshed, recalling snippets from your dream while you poured yourself a fresh coffee. Pulling your hair into a high bun, you took your coffee to your sofa, lounging back to watch some mindless morning TV. After a while, when the black liquid in your mug had cooled, you felt a tingling sensation on your shoulder – followed by your pyjama top strap falling down. You went to pull it up again but the area felt unusually cold, with the tingling pressure now on your jaw. As if someone was cupping or stroking your face. For a moment you didn’t know how to react, turning your head slowly to the space beside you and noticing a small dip in the cushion. Your mouth was ajar in wonder, eyes drifting over what looked like an empty space in front of you. Somehow you knew it wasn’t at all. Closing your eyes, you leant into the feeling, letting the ghostly touch brush your lips and pull a soft smile from you. At least they seem affectionate your mind rings with the thoughts of dozens of scary movies depicting evil spirits. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the low lighting again, the odd sensation beginning to feel warm on your cheek and jaw. “Are you the boy from my dreams?” your voice came out barely louder than a whisper, scared to frighten whatever this was off. The touch stilled, as if unsure or surprised before retreating altogether. The sofa cushion slowly rose back to normal and you could only sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. Gripping his hand close to his chest, the young man all but backed out of your apartment, cheeks both burning with embarrassment and a new resolve. He wanted you to notice him.

your new job as a manager really took it out of you some days. While living in Neo City was great, you felt yourself getting more and more strung out with less time to make friends outside of the office, which also meant less time for yourself and relaxing at home. You had learnt to live with the occasional odd poltergeist activity or random noise in your apartment - having become an interesting and almost normal feature of living in your building. The unknown boy in your dreams becoming a weekly occurrence, your mind kept on wondering if he had any connection to what happened around you. His voice had such a soft lilt to it, laughter sincere and loud when the odd bits of your dream resurfaced in your mind. Fragments of conversation and cracking corny puns together often made you wake up with a smile, that lingering scent of Verbena hung in the air like tendrils. The late August air draped over your shoulders with humidity, a moist sheen cloying to your every pore like a second skin. Buying a wireless plug for your aircon was your saving grace, programming it to come on 20 minutes before you usually walked through the door in the evening to escape the heat. Shutting the door quickly behind you, toeing off your shoes haphazardly before throwing your bag down onto the sofa, you headed to the bathroom for a much-welcomed cool shower. The refreshing spray of water leaving your skin raised and pert to the breeze of the A/C. Towelling yourself off by your bed, you felt the barest of touches run down your back before settling at your sides, holding you steady. Letting out a quiet gasp, you finished drying yourself, playing off the touch as just the breeze from the aircon unit. Standing unbeknownst behind you, a shy smile was painted on the features of your boy with the floppy hair as he watched you fondly put on your pyjamas. Later that night around 1am when you were fast asleep, the dulcet tones of Madonna from your cassette player broke through the silence of your apartment, causing you to stir. Groggily opening your eyes, you watched in amazement as the bed dipped beside you like someone had knelt down. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t still dreaming, but when an almost glowing apparition materialised into view, it was hard to say. There in front of you, leaning on his arm, was your weekly dream visitor. He appeared in muted colour, his smile and his boyish looks shining through the night as he gave a little nervous laugh at your expression. “It really is you!” You exclaimed, smile widening at the sight of the boy. Shuffling back a little, you sat up in bed, taking in all of him better. “It’s taken a lot of energy for me to appear like this, but I wanted for you to see me properly. I’m sorry it took so long.” His voice was so sweet, like honey as he spoke to you in the dark of your studio. “My name is Jungwoo, I used to live here – I’m sorry If I ever scared you! I’ve been wanting to say that for a while.” His eyes went wide as you could see the faintest trace of a blush on his faded appearance. “You’ve never really scared me, Jungwoo. I was confused at first but when I got used to you trying to catch my attention, I felt warm and happy that I had you here sometimes. You gave me the flower too, right?” Jungwoo nodded and watched your eyes sparkle under the moonlight streaming through your window. He thought you looked magical like this. Your warm hand reached out to see if you could cup his cheek and to your surprise, he felt soft and solid enough to touch. Upon contact with him, a rush of tingles zipped up your arm, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Jungwoo bravely pressed a kiss into your palm as you sat there admiring each other. “I’m y/n, I don’t know if you knew that already or not though.” The heat of your blush crept up your neck and face as you felt his lips on your palm. His eyes focused on yours as he reached up to hold your hand. “I knew, I saw it on your mail once. It’s such a pretty name for a pretty face~” Jungwoo’s giggle melts your heart, his lips brushing your knuckles cradled in his hands. “I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to say this but being here with you these last few months - I’ve really begun to like you y/n! I really love seeing you dance and sing in here, I love sitting beside you watching movies…but I do feel sad that I couldn’t wipe your tears when you cry. When you started noticing things I did, or talking to me in your sleep, it made my whole being so happy.” With his little confession, you shed a few tears, laughing through the sparkling wall they created in your vision. All this time you had been sleep-talking to him, the dreams of the boy all in his image. Gingerly, you pulled Jungwoo towards yourself, bringing his airy lips to slot against your own. Your spine tingled and skin raised as his hands carded through your hair, pulling you closer in his embrace. It was both wonderful and odd, kissing a ghost. He seemed solid enough to be there yet it was like thick air, holding you and invading your mouth with his cool, equally tingly tongue. He broke the kiss to dab his thumbs on your cheeks, before pecking them both softly. “I knew you meant no harm when I saw the flower on my bed that day. It made me feel wanted, as strange as that sounds. Thank you, Jungwoo, I really like you too.” Barely above a whisper, your words were just made for the two of you. His cheeks felt soft and your eyelids fluttered closed as you joined your mouths together again. Time was a precious gift, not knowing when you’d share another moment like this, you both made the most of the early hours of the morning. Sharing secrets and moments of your lives, facing each other against the pillows watching intently. Every so often indulging in more languid kisses and touches under the moonlight. The boy stroked your hair once again as he saw you eventually fall asleep, the sunrise not far behind your slumber. You awoke some hours later, the sun warm on your skin as it peered through your window, high in the sky. Hair and sleepwear feeling slightly dishevelled, you noticed that Jungwoo had kindly tucked you back under the covers. You suddenly felt a little morose at the thought of an undetermined time without being able to share another moment like that with your spectre again. Trying to push such thoughts from your mind, your arm stretched across the covers in aid to wake up when you came into contact with something. Fumbling for it further, your eyes crinkled with joy when you discovered it was a note that read: To the beautiful y/n, I feel alive again. I’ll still be here now and then, until the next time I can capture your kiss. Talking properly with you made me so happy, but I didn’t want to be too selfish and not let you rest. Keep playing the tunes of my time, singing to yourself – oh and wandering around in your underwear. 정우 xx You wet your lip with your tongue before giving an indignant huff. Well, he better be glad it’s summer…

#jungwoo scenario #jungwoo x reader #nct fluff #nct fanfiction #kim jungwoo #junguwu #paranormal #ghost!au #jungwoo imagine #cute #NCT 127

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