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kimnjss · 4 years

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roleplaying | requested reaction

NAMJOON

Joon would be so into it. Might even be the one to suggest it to be honest. He wouldn't hesitate at all if you were coming out and saying you wanted to try roleplaying because he'd more than likely would be thinking the same thing.

He'd get really involved when it came to what roles you wanted to play and would want to make it as realistic as possible. Namjoon would take his role very seriously and wouldn't break character the entire time. And seeing you getting into the characters and hearing the things you come up with to say would turn him on like crazy.

Out of all the roles and scenarios the two of you have come up with, his favorite is undoubtedly professor/student. He would, of course, purchase a cute uniform for you to wear while he came dressed in a pair of glasses and a nice suit. Joon would even went as far as re-renting the set used for their Boy In Luv music video, to truly set the tone of your scene.

How into it he gets really has you sticking to your character and him taking his role so seriously is what makes roleplaying with him that much more fun.

JIN

The two of you wouldn't do it often, since it would require a bit of planning before hand Jin really enjoyed going for it whenever the moment felt right. He'd be interested to try if you were bringing it up to him and would take it seriously for the most part. When you had first mentioned it, he thought that you were only kidding.

But once he knew that it was something that you actually wanted to do, he'd be into trying it out just to see a smile on your face. Before, during and after. The scene would be something simple, since it is something that the both of you would be new at.

Something easy that is overplayed in pornos, he'd play the delivery guy – whether it was pizza or a package. Jin would try his best with keeping up with the character and saying the right thing. In the back of his mind, he's wanting to fast forward to the part where he'd actually get to drop the act and do what he's best at. Making you feel good.

Once you'd be getting down to it, Jin would end up breaking character more often. His personality leaking through, but of course you didn't mind it. You thought it was cute how hard he tried to stay in character just to end up breaking it to tell you he loves you.

YOONGI

It wouldn't necessarily be on the top of Yoongi's list, much more preferred just fucking you regular without all the tricks and gimmicks, but he wouldn't protest if he saw that it was something that you really wanted to try or if it was something that he knew you were into. He just wouldn't care too much about it.

Since he's pretty blasé about the whole thing, he wouldn't get too into his character and would choose the most simple scenario to get into. Strangers who just met and decided to sleep together would be his go to because he can just ct as if he doesn't know your body like the back of his hand. Of course, he'd be dropping character halfway through, not being able to hold back from making you moan.

You'd find it funny, because he would try to keep it together but at the end of the day it just wasn't for him. It didn't matter much, though. Overall, you always enjoyed yourself when the two were together you had zero complaints.

There are times, though. Where he has literally surprised you in public. Acting like an actual stranger and baiting you to come home with him. Instances like those were extremely rare, but you loved the randomness of them.

HOSEOK

The first time you met Hoseok was at one of his shows. A chance meting behind the arena when he was getting into his car. You had enjoyed the show, sad to leave and annoyed that the Uber driver had you walking all over the place just to be picked up. Your merch a dead giveaway that you were a fan, so he was easily striking up conversation.

Your ride came just as he was working up the courage to ask f you wanted to spend more time together. Instead, you're taking his number and spending the entire car ride home and the rest of the night talking to each other.

It as safe to say that, that was his favorite moment. With how fond he grew of you after the fact, he's thankful for his friends urging him to go say hi to the pretty girl. He would be the one to suggest roleplaying after you were showing the slightest bit of interest in it.

He loved and cherished the relationship that the two of you had, but it never truly left his mind what it would've been like if you had slept together the first night you met. So reliving your first meeting with the addition of claw backs and sweaty kisses would be a lot of fun for him. And for you too, sleeping with him that first night was something you wondered a lot about too.

JIMIN

It would be your idea from the start of it, but Jimin would be down or the experience. Even though you had brought it up, he would take over the planning of it, wanting the whole thing to be as dramatic and creative as it possibly be. Which meant costumes and intricate well rounded characters. An entire theater production in your bedroom.

He'd be all smiling cheeks the day everything came in for your night together. Announcing that out of the options you had told him to pick from, he chose the angel and demon scenario. Him as the angel, of course. Some wings for him to wear and a latex one piece for you.

Unlike normal nights between the two of you, you'd be in complete control. Him as an angel caught at the hands of a vengeful demon. It was cute to you how much thought he put into the story and you'd easily find yourself slipping into your role.

Despite the amount of care he put into getting this night together and how excited he was up to this day, Jimin would be breaking character almost immediately. Which you would find hilarious and wouldn't budge to his whining. It wasn't often that you got to take control and with safe words in place, you could comfortably make him squirm with or without roles.

TAEHYUNG

As for fully thought out scenarios, Taehyung wouldn't be too into it. Wouldn't be too interested in getting into character and all that, but would naturally fall into a dominant role almost every time the two of you were venturing out to try something new. You liked how he got when he was in control, so not taking part in actual scenes really didn't bother you.

Safe to say, Taehyung new you and your body like the back of his hand – so not much guessing was needed when it came to pleasing you. The two of you liked to keep thing fresh and exciting in the bedroom and he was always down to try out whatever you wanted and vice versa.

Props aren't a stranger to the bedroom with you. Whether he's securing a leash around your neck or cuffing your hands to the headboard. He'd reach the height of his dominance in those moments, loved it the most when you were desperate for him so having you cuffed was the best in his opinion.

Switching wasn't something he did often or even thought about, but he'd let you have your fun for a little while he was going to take control again. Hardly ever did you try to cuff him and if you were to brave it – a punishment would definitely be in order.

JUNGKOOK

A lot of thought would be put into what roles and scenarios the two of you would play. Jungkook would be all for the idea and excited to do his best the moment you were bringing it up. For the majority of your relationship, the sex between the two of you has been pretty dry cut normal. Not boring, but nothing out of the ordinary.

So he was jumping on the chance to spice things up. The type of characters the two of you would play is the first thing he's figuring out. Grinning when you're agreeing to his superhero/villain idea. And he's quick to go out and buy costumes for the both of you.

Where you guys did it wouldn't really matter to him, fitting whatever spot it would be into his scenario. He knew that you were most comfortable in your shared apartment, so he'd get to putting something nice together for the two of you there.

He wouldn't for a second break character, playing the hell out of his superhero one rogue role. You, as the villain he caught and is more than ready to have his way with. Jungkook would make sure to make it fun for the both of you and with how serious he took his role, you'd be doing the same.

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murdertrialimagines · 4 years

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Kokichi, Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo X They/Them! Reader (Dream Soulmate AU!)

‘If it’s alright, how about a soulmate AU where the soulmates can occasionally meet in each other’s dreams, but can’t remember their soulmate’s identity when they wake up? w/ a curious, persistent, and thoughtful reader (they/them) and Kokichi(!!!), Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo please u///u thank you for all of your amazing work! ♡’

I am back from the dead. After three months of silence, I am back. I have a cosplay Tiktok now. Anyone want it? Story under the tag!

Kokichi

When in dreams with your soulmate, you know everything about them, but when you wake up, you have barely a hint

A voice, a scent, a first name if you’re extremely lucky

And for you...

You had that laugh

The laugh that this boy (it was a boy, right?) had that rang in your head everyday, awake or otherwise

You of course asked him a plethora of questions, but could never remember the answers

That didn’t stop you though, each night you fruitlessly searched

It haunted you, in a way

You had a small book younger you swore to fill with all of the things you could remember from those nights

Yet all you had written was ‘purple’ and ‘laugh’.

You asked all of your friends if they knew anyone with the two specific characteristics, but no one knew, or were too busy with their own hunts

You sat outside the small cafe, taking a sip of your cold drink to balance the warm day

This is where you sat when you thought, as no one approached you and that gave you time to think

And today you sat, book in hand to try and figure out the clues your brain has so helpfully left you

But the words seemed to be a mess of nothing mixed with more nothing

“For the last time I’m not getting you the unicorn drink.” A stern and possibly annoyed voice rang from inside the shop, radiating out of the open door

“But I really want it!!”

“You got it last time and hated it.”

“But I want it!”

‘Children’, you thought. ‘Never wanna be wrong.’

After what sounded like a little hushed arguing, you grateful for the litttle quiet, the two seemed to hash out a deal

“Fine. Unicorn drink.”

“Knew you’d crack.” Followed by a distinct laugh

That child is a little- wait.

Quickly standing up, rattling the table a bit, you leaned into the doorway

A small teen balanced out next to a taller one, both donning grey and purple hair respectively-

“Wait.”

You must’ve said that a little bit louder than expected as the few people in the shop looked your way

You kept your eyes on the short purple boy, until your eyes locked with his

And the memories suddenly came flooding back

All of the dreams you shared, the laughs, the arguments, the plans you two made for when you found each other, it all came forward

“...it’s you..”

The boy’s surprised face, probably from seeing all of these memories as well, turned into a grin one could only describe as childish

“Shuichi!! My soulmate is right there! And they’re more attractive than Kaede!”

This earned the boy a shove, coincidentally in your direction

He stepped closer, a slightly more serious look on his face

“So, I’m Kokichi! Who are you, how are you, and what’s your blood type?”

“Uh, Y/n L/n, I’m good, actually, and...b positive?”

The boy, Kokichi as it was, cracked a smile, looking slightly down at you

“Well, this should be an interesting development!”

“What do you mean?”

The boy suddenly took your hand. With a smile Kokichi started to drag you off, leaving his friend behind

”we gotta go boast to Miu that I got a hot soulmate!”

“W-What?!”

Kaede

Every since you started dreaming of your soulmate, everyone has noticed how refreshed you had been

Some people fought with their soulmates, earning them the feeling of nightmares or never sleeping when they wake up

And although you can’t exactly remember what happens in your dreams, you can tell how serene it is

Faint hints of vanilla and the sound of a piano being played, is what you would describe your dreams as

Everyone said you were lucky to have such dreams that refresh you each morning

But you secretly wished for a little more

People always believed the idea that the more outgoing your soulmate was, the more you could remember when you woke up

And you, you could only remember classical music

It didn’t bother you much, as you knew for sure you had a soulmate, and a possibly famous one, as your friends always teased you about

So as payback, you dragged them to every recital you could find in the area, forcing them to watch the pianist with you in hopes it was your soulmate

Yet you never found them, until you transferred schools

First day at hopes peak high-school, as a reserve course student

The uproar of bullying towards reserve students had died down before you transferred, luckily, but some still picked on the kids who got in without a talent

You had been amazed at all of the talented people in the school, gawking at all of their talents whenever they showed off for you

You were especially interested in all of the musical talents, as your soulmate had planted an appreciation for music in you

When you heard of an ultimate musician, you had a small thought wondering if she might be your soulmate, but that idea was quickly tossed when you saw how intense her personality was

You would definitely have remembered that

When you met her, you told her of your situation in passing, and your soulmate troubles seemed to stick in her mind

“I know every musical talent there is here! I can totally hook up my bud with a cute player!”

She began introducing you to every person who’s talent had to do with music, yet none seemed to be a match

It had turned to months of being at the school with no luck

‘Maybe my soulmate is just a normal person with a knack for piano...’ you thought as you laid on one of the benches in the school garden, arm over your eyes to block the sun

You let your mind wander, listening to the noises of nature, the water from the nearby fountain, and the kids chatting as they walked past

You were almost asleep when you heard it

A soft humming voice, humming a small tune that sounded extremely familiar

Quickly moving your arm from your face, you sat up to see a blonde walking past, slightly swaying her head to the beat of the humming

“H-hey!”

You jumped up and grabbed her shoulder, the girl turning around surprised

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to know...what’s the name of the song you’re humming?”

“Oh, it’s Minuet in F Major!” The girl said with a slight smile

Finally putting a name to the song you’ve heard so much in your dreams, you smiled back before continuing

“So, uh, this might sound weird, but I hear that song in my dreams a LOT, so I was wondering if you played piano or something?”

She gave a gasp before her eyes lit up

“I do, and I play this in my dreams for my soulmate!” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist!”

Taking her hand, you smiled at her once more. “I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

“So am I! What’s your name?”

“Y/n”

“That’s a nice name!”

“Thank you! I’ve actually been looking for my soulmate since I came to this school, but none of the other talents have been a match”

“What bad timing!” She said with a laugh. “I’ve been out of country for the last few months playing in a championship!”

Kaede grabbed your hand, cupping it into hers

“I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, Y/n! My friends are gonna be so excited to meet you!”

As she began to drag you away you smiled at her, knowing how serene your life was going to be from now on, awake or not.

Shuichi

You had a great memory

You remembered a lot of things about your soulmate, their black hair, their strange hobbies, and the stories of their friends

Yet you could not find them /anywhere/

You first started searching for just people with black hair that matched your age, but that quickly turned out to be impossible

So you started looking for people with his hobbies, that many teens couldn’t be interested in murders, or mysteries, right?

Wrong

So you began to look for people who were possibly his friends, but that was near impossible as well, seeming as they didn’t go to your school and you couldn’t wander onto another campus

You closed the book you wrote all of your clues in, the entire thing filled with scribbles and ink smudges, writing and clues only you could understand

You were walking home from school that day, a few textbooks as well as your notebook being carried in your arms as your bag was already full from the other assignments given to you

You looked at your watch, realizing the time you spent searching for your soulmate after class meant you had minutes to reach your bus

Picking up speed, you began to run, trying to get to the bus stop in time, paying attention to only your pace and the seconds ticking by

Running past a small patch of construction, you didn’t notice the patch of newly broken sidewalk, tripping on a larger piece of cement

Preparing to hit the dirt you braved yourself, closing your eyes

But you fell into something on the way down, taking it with you

Opening your eyes, you saw a boy on the ground next to you, a schoolboy by the looks of all of the books scattered along yours

“Omigosh, I’m so sorry!” You began scrambling to pick up your things

Adjusting his collar, the boy helped you as well as picked up his

“It’s completely fine,” he gave you a smile but you didn’t see it as you were looking for your journal

Spotting it you picked it up, managing all of your books into a carry-able pile

“Do you need any help? I’m shui-“

“I got it, but thank you! I have to run now!”

Giving him a small smile you began to run again, leaving the boy and his belongings behind

You had managed to catch your bus and your breath, and soon got home

Dropping your books onto your desk, you let out a sigh or relief as your arms stretched, joints popping slightly from being in the position for so long

Having nothing to do, you decided to look through your journal again, hoping that maybe you could piece something together

Picking it up you laid down and opened it, ready to decipher your cryptic dreams

But this wasn’t your handwriting

Scanning the pages, you analyzed the small and neat handwriting

‘Curious, rambles a bit’ ‘lots of jokes, I think (your hair color) hair?’ ‘Bubbly, but also dark at moments’ ‘I can’t find them, so I don’t think they go to Hopes Peak with me’

You kept looking at the book, wondering what had happened to it. Did you accidentally grab his? What were the odds that he was your soulmate, and had the same exact journal, for the same exact reason?

Extremely improbable, but by the looks of what was in your hands, completely possible

You continued reading the book, searching for clues to his identity

‘Kaito said that I should just remember harder. He doesn’t get that that doesn’t work because he’s known his soulmate since before dreaming of them’

A kaito...wait you’ve heard this name somewhere

Opening your phone you googled the name Kaito, paired with Hopes Peak

You found headline after headline about the famed teen who is becoming the youngest astronaut in history

Scrolling through some articles on the page, you passed one that was headed with a group picture, labeled as Kaito and his friends

And in that photo, albeit somewhat in the corner, was the boy you ran into earlier

Solidifying where the boy went, as well as his friend group, you closed the book and left your home, looking up the address for the boys school

By the time you got there, classes had ended for the day, kids swarming to go home or meet up with friends

You sat in the front of the school for a few minutes until you saw a familiar head of spiky purple hair

“Hey!” You ran towards him, stopping in front of him. “Sorry, are you Kaito?”

“Yeah dude!” He threw a thumbs up, winking at you. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well um, I ran into a kid- I think he’s your friend? He wears the grey suit and hat?”

“Yeah, that’s Shuichi! I was just about to meet up with him. Whadya need?”

“Shuichi...” you finally put a name to the boy. “Well...! I found his notebook and, I think he might be my soulmate?” You confessed, the last part of your sentence sped up in uncertainty

At this, Kaito lit up, grabbing your arm

“As a matter of fact, you are strangely similar to what he describes in his dreams! Cmon, I’ll take you to him!”

Before you could protest he dragged you off into town

He pulled you to the shopping district, entering into a small cafe close to where you and Shuichi first met

You eyed the patrons, finding the boy immediately in the back

“Shuichi!” Kaito boomed, causing you to wince as he dragged you to the table he occupied

“Ah-kaito! Who uh, did you bring?”

“This is...uh...”

“Y/n...”

“Y/n!” Kaito slapped you on the back. “They’re your soulmate!”

Both of you faltered at the sudden statement, looking at each other with surprise in your eyes

“My...soulmate?” The boy in front of you finally said before pulling out a notebook from his book bag

“So this must be yours?” Shuichi handed you the book, and you recognized it as your own journal

“Yes!” You flipped through it, glad to see it unharmed. “So, this one must be yours?”

You returned his identical journal, not missing the flash of joy in his eyes as he grazed his fingertips on the spine “oh, thank you!”

You two stared at each other for a moment, taking in the idea of finally finding your soulmate when a hand was clasped on both of your shoulders

“So!” Boomed Kaito. “Are you two going to have a date now or what?”

“Uh, yeah...yeah!” Shuichi spoke, softly grabbing your empty hand. “I want to learn more about the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

The soft smile he flashed caused your heart to skip a beat. “Yeah...I’d love that.”

Kiibo

Everyone rumors of the very unlucky few who don’t meet their soulmates in their dreams

Some say they’re doomed for a life of loneliness, while others hypothesize that they will be matched with another dreamless person

Yet these people were rare, almost never heard of, so no one worried

But when you realized you never once glimpsed a potential soulmate in your dreams, you panicked

Was it just a late start? Was your soulmate dead? Were you defective?

You kept your worries to yourself, opting to tell people vague answers when asked about your dreams

You didn’t want to be pitied, you wanted to feel loved

You knew it was fruitless, but you knew that some people who were known to not have dreams of their soulmates found them anyways, but that was just a rumor

Still, the idea that possibly, just possibly, you could figure out someone is your soulmate without a dream kept hope in your soul

You happened to find a few people who were dreamless, who told you that when they found their soulmates, it was a feeling rather than a vision

With this hope in your heart, you continued your life, everyday praying that a new encounter would lead to that one person meant for you

And while it never did, you kept your head high

Until your little brothers drone broke while he was playing with it in the backyard, accidentally flying it into a tree and snapping some wiring in it

our parent had asked you to take it to a local repair shop to see if I was worth it to repair it instead of just buying another one

So you went, begrudgingly, to a downtown store that had confirmed over a phone call that they could fix the problem

When you got there however, you noticed smoke coming out of the building, and gasped at the idea of a fire happening

However, there were no flames in sight, nor panicking citizens or firemen

Cautiously, you walked in

Inside was a worker, the one you spoke to on the phone, you assumed

And with him was a...boy?

Smoke was pouring from the boys arm, as well as sporadic sparks here and there

The chime of the door opening must’ve alerted the two, as they turned to look at the new arrival

“You must’ve called about the drone,” the worker said with a small smile, eyeing the toy in your hands. “I’ll be right with you after helping this gentleman”

However, his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at the smoking customer, who stared back in return

Your vision felt blurry, yet somehow crystal clear

A sense of weightlessness washed over you as the boys eyes lit up, quite literally

And then his arm gave a small burst of sparks that caught into a small fire

The worker rushed to put out the fire on the teens arm as you absentmindedly walked over to him

“Did you...feel that?”

“I think so,” the boy said nervously, eyes shifting around your figure. “I’ve never felt an emotion like that before. Or an emotion in general.”

You gave a small giggle, causing the boy to again physically light up at your reaction, and again spark his arm

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You said, cheeks reddening. “It’s just...”

“I’m your soulmate.”

Taken aback by what the boy so calmly said, you gave him a bewildered look

“I mean,” the boy started again, as the worker tried to quickly fix his arm, probably in fear of his workshop burning down. “I just have a lot of data on how dreamless people find their soulmates, since technically I can’t dream...”

It made sense, his train of thought. As you looked over it was easy to tell he wasn’t really human. It didn’t freak you out however, as the feeling of simply finding the one for you made all of the worries in the back of your mind go away

The atmosphere settled into an awkward silence as you stared at each other, until the worker closed the boys arm with a clang

“There, done! Now please, leave before my shop burns down...”

He turned to leave, but turned back to you

He spit a piece of paper from his mouth, and you noticed it had a phone number on it

“Call me sometime, I am quite literally my own phone so I won’t miss it.”

You gave another small laugh before pocketing the slip of paper

“Thank you, uh...”

“Kiibo.”

“Thank you, Kiibo”

I will probably disappear for another 3 months, so nag me to write!

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #danganronpa kiibo #kiibo #kaede akamatsu #danganronpa kaede #danganronpa shuichi #shuichi saihara #drv3 shuichi #shuichi #kiibo x reader #keade x reader #shuichi x reader #kokichi x reader #kokichi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa kokichi #danganronpa x reader

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maddogofshimano · 3 years

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Saejima (1988) Character Story

Yakuza 4 and 5 Spoilers

It took me a while to get to this one because there was a Valentine’s Scratcher event going on with Goromi as the top scratcher prize (only in game, not in the actual event story sadly) so I went ballistic on that.

Anyways, here’s our card!

For character stories they generally have one, maybe two talk sprites, so Saejima here is going to be looking like this for the majority of the story, even when it’s wildly inappropriate. Don’t worry about it!

Summary: A month before the hit in 1985, Saejima starts tutoring a kid and forms a bond with him. After 27 years Saejima is back in Kamurocho, but the kid was changed by the hit just as much as Saejima was...

1985, March One month before Saejima Taiga would become "The Legendary 18 Count Killer".

"Haa~ Thanks to getting wasted with my kyoudai, my head's pounding." (Tl note: he is not actually wandering around with the guns I promise.)

Saejima decides to stop in for coffee to help with his hangover. He overhears an elementary school-aged kid getting thrown out of cafe alps, it seems he just bought a single coffee and then hung around all day.

The manager tells him to go study at home. Saejima asks if there's a problem, the manager explains the situation, and the kid says that he's got a big exam coming up but his home is too noisy to study in.

Saejima asks if the store is really that crowded that he can't look the other way on this. The manager says that it's not an issue of being busy or not, but if he lets one kid sit there all day then all the kids are going to want to do the same. The kid begs for one more hour, just to do the practice exam. The manager refuses and tells the kid to scram, but Saejima says that if he pays for something for the kid, that'll be fine, right? The kid is overjoyed and calls him ojisan. Saejima says he ain't an ojisan, just call him Saejima.

The kid calls him Saejima no ojisan, and introduces himself as Ichirou, Nishiyamada Ichirou. (Tl note: there's a few different ways to read 一郎, but Ichirou is a common one and kind of matches up with the number+son of 吾郎 Goro, so that's what I'm sticking with.) Saejima tells him he better study hard, cause there's plenty of people in this world that don't have the opportunity to.

A few days later...

Ichirou is once again getting thrown out of Cafe Alps. He keeps telling the kid to go home, but he just won't listen. Saejima happens to see this again. He asks why they're going through the same song and dance again, and the manager asks if Saejima knows that after Saejima paid for Ichirou he ended up staying until the store closed and didn't cough up another cent? Saejima did not know that. Saejima asks Ichirou if anywhere quiet would work for studying. Ichirou says as much, and Saejima brings him to a nice place he knows near here.

Ichirou: Ojisan, what is this place? Saejima: Oh, here? Saejima: (I can't just tell him that it's an abandoned building the Sasai Family used to make use of...) Saejima: Uhhh... it's... an acquaintances building. We can use it however we like. Ichirou: Hmm, I see. But... there aren't any desks? Saejima: There's some mandarin boxes, ain't there? And for a cushion... cardboard will work well enough for ya. Ichirou: Yeah! ....This is kind of like a secret base, huh.

Saejima changes the subject back to this practice exam Ichirou is taking. He wants to go to a good school, but he's not very good at studying, so he hasn't been able to get the grade he needs. Saejima asks to see his study method. Ichirou shows him and Saejima agrees, that's not a very efficient method, and shows him a better one. Ichirou is surprised he knows how to study. Saejima tells him of course he does, dummy, he wanted to be a teacher. Getting kids to study would be a necessity.

Some time passes with Saejima teaching the kid how to study better, like identifying which problems will have the same sort of solutions. After a successful day they head out.

Ichirou is really thankful for all the help. Unfortunately, Ichirou's older brother's friends, a pack of goons, arrive. One of the goons tries to shake Ichirou down for cash, which Saejima does not take kindly to.

The goon calls Saejima an old man and tells him he's a dumbass if he thinks he can take on this many guys, and even Ichirou tells Saejima not to fight them, they're all members of a biker gang, and they're really strong. Saejima is of course not deterred by this, and tells Ichirou to run away if he needs to while he handles it.

Saejima tells them to keep their hands off Ichirou from now on, they agree, call him a beast, and flee. Ichirou thinks Saejima is just the coolest. Saejima asks if those guys are usually shaking him down like that, turns out they are, and Saejima is pissed that they'd do that to a kid. He tells Ichirou to let him know if they try anything like that again. Ichirou agrees, but he doesn't think it's right to be protected all the time, so he'd like to get stronger too.

Saejima asks what he means by stronger. Ichirou says that he actually wants to become a cop. His father was a great cop, and he wants to be like that. Saejima is shocked that his dad is a cop.

He recovers quickly though, and asks more about why Ichirou wants to become a cop. He says that his dad is super cool, he's so brave to be facing yakuza and protecting the common folk from bad people. Saejima says he sounds like an excellent father. Ichirou agrees, but he's always worried about his father getting hurt with how dangerous Kamurocho is, so he wants Saejima to teach him how to fight. Saejima is hesitent about this, it's dangerous to fight people, and it's better to just get out of there.

Ichirou begs to be taught, if he's going to be a cop he needs to be strong! He swears he'll be Saejima's disciple. Saejima asks if he'll be okay if Saejima's tough on him. Ichirou says of course! Thank you, Saejima-sensei! Saejima's a little embarrased to be called sensei. Ichirou asks what he usually does. Saejima says... he's a freelancer. Ichirou doesn't know what that means, but that's fine.

1985, March 10 days before Saejima Taiga would take his first steps towards becoming "The Legendary 18 Count Killer".

Ichirou hasn't shown up for tutoring for several days, leaving Saejima to wonder what's going on. He heads out to look and sees Ichirou in the street and asks him why he's stopped going to the hideout. Ichirou immediately bursts into tears.

Saejima calms him down and they go to a cafe to talk about things. Apparently Ichirou's father has been seriously injured while doing police work. He was dragged into some trouble, there was a shoot-out while trying to protect a woman but... his father was shot badly, and may never walk again.

Saejima lets Ichirou cry it all out and asks if he'll be okay to get home on his own. Ichirou says he'll be fine, and brings up Saejima's "school", which it takes Saejima a moment to realize is the ruined hideout. Ichirou thinks he's going to stop, he doesn't want to be a police officer anymore. Saejima asks if Ichirou got scared because of what happened to his dad. Ichirou says it is, and asks if it's okay if he stops going to the school.

Saejima says that things have been hard, so it's fine to take a little break, but he shouldn't lose sight of his goals to live up to his father. Even if he gets off-track, he can get himself where he wants to go anyways. He may not have his father to live up to right now, but he has his heart, and that will guide him true. Ichirou thanks him, and Saejima tells him to get some rest. (Tl note: the phrase Saejima uses a lot here is 見習うべき背中 which I couldn't find as an idiom or anything, but is along the lines of learning from/imitating [someone's] back/spine. "Live up to" is what I used for the most part)

Saejima does wonder about that yakuza incident, and figures he can look into it. Of course, by "look into it", he means beating the information out of a hapless goon.

Saejima: A few days ago there was a scuffle on Pink Street between some yakuza. Were you the one involved? Yakuza: Ah!? What do you mean!? Saejima: Ya tried to shoot that civilian woman, right? But the bullet ended up hittin' the cop who was protectin' her... Saejima: So then ya booked it outta there... That seem about right? Yakuza: Bastard, are you a cop? You can't prove nothing... Saejima: Nah. I ain't a cop. Let's just call this... payback.

Saejima thinks to himself that Ichirou should be able to rest easy now that Saejima's gotten some vengeance for him.

A few days later...

Saejima is walking past the hideout and notices the lights are on in it. Ichirou is inside, seems he's doing a lot better now, and he says that he's been thinking about what Saejima said and has decided he won't give up on his dream of becoming a police officer. He was really inspired by what Saejima said, and he thought that it's not just his dad he wants to live up to, there's another man he wants to emulate. He wants to be a man like his father, and like Saejima-sensei!

Saejima is touched. Ichirou says that with all that in mind, he's ready to continue!

A few days later, in Saejima's apartment...

Saejima gets a call, someone wants to talk to him about something important. He meets them at the park.

He's told about the hit, and asked to think it over and give his response soon.

Saejima: (For Boss Sasai's sake, there's nothin' I wouldn't do... That's what I've always thought...) Saejima: (A hit, huh. And on the Ueno Seiwa family...) Saejima: (I've steeled my heart. But even still... This is crossin' a line I can't ever undo)

Saejima goes to the hideout.

Ichirou: What? Today's our last day? Ichirou: W-Why!? Saejima: ......Sorry. Ichirou: Why? Why are we stopping? Saejima: I ain't the kind of guy ya want to live up to. Chasin' after me will bring ya nothin' but sorrow. Ichirou: ...Ojisan. I don't understand... Saejima: Ichirou. I'm sorry. ...Become an excellent police officer. Ichirou: Ojisan...

1985, April 21st. ...Saejima Taiga massacred a large gathering of the Ueno Seiwa Family. After the incident he was called "The Legendary 18 Count Killer". For his crimes Saejima was given a death sentence...

2012, December in Kamurocho... It's been 27 years since Saejima's 18 person hit. Upon hearing of Majima's death, Saejima has broken out of Abashiri Prison in Hokkaido in pursuit of the truth. This search has led him once more back to Kamurocho...

Saejima is on the run from the cops. He ducks into an alleyway only to be faced by goons. He doesn't have time to deal with them right now, and considers if he needs to just hide until they go away. Thankfully for Saejima, a police officer stops the goons. They complain, haven't they paid the cop enough? The cop tells them that he's got no room to complain, after all, it's thanks to him that these goons can eat all the great food they want outside of a cell.

They hand over the cash. Unfortunately the cop spots Saejima. He turns to run, but the cop recognizes him.

Cop: ...S-Saejima... sensei?

Saejima: Ah? Cop: I knew it... it is you. The escaped convict I kept hearing about... Saejima: ....Y-You're, no way, are you... Saejima: ...Ichirou? Ichirou: ........It's been a while. Saejima: ...I see ya managed to become a police officer. Ichirou: Yes. As you can see. Saejima: Yeah. I'm glad. As much as I wanna enjoy meetin' again, ya caught me at a bad time.

Saejima: ....Ichirou. I'm sorry to ask, but could ya pretend ya didn't see me? I still got somethin' I need to do. I can't get caught yet... Ichirou: ...Heh. What, got another person to murder? I was shocked when you killed those 18 people. "Saejima-*sensei*"... Saejima: ! Ichirou: You kept the fact that you were a yakuza a secret the whole time. Despite that, you pretended like you were a good teacher... Saejima: No, that was... Ichirou: ...It's fine. I'll look the other way. I don't know what you're planning, but that's fine. Ichirou: And, 500,000. I'll take it as a payment. Saejima: Ichirou... you... Saejima: Isn't that the same bribe you just got from those chinpira? Where did ya pick that habit up? Ichirou: Saejima!! I am nothing like the child I once was! Saejima: .....Wouldn't this make your dad sad? What happened to becomin' an excellent officer? Ichirou: ...Like a murderer has any room to talk. ...Well, whatever. Just pay me the money already. Saejima: .............Ichirou. I don't have any money to pay ya with right now. Ichirou: Is that so. In that case, I don't have any reason to let you go, right? Saejima: Yeah... Ichirou: Well, guess I have no choice... You all! Come make yourselves useful! Goons: Eh? Ichirou: Beat the hell out of Saejima. Try not to kill him. Goon: H-Huh? Why us? You already took all our cash, now this... Ichirou: ...Robbery and assault. How many more things do you think I've looked the other way on? Goon: Hnn... Ichirou: Do you want to eat shitty rice in jail!? Are you going to ruin your life!? Goons: S-Shit!!

After the fight the goons cower, Saejima is just too strong. Ichirou decides to escalate, and pulls out a dagger he had confiscated. He gives it to the goons to use, and tells them to stab Saejima to death.

Saejima: ...Ichirou. You... Ichirou: Saejima!! This is the price of your betrayal! I'll get the credit for this! Ichirou: Well!? I'll be putting away all of you fucks if you don't!! Goon: .....D-Dammiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!! Damn this shitty cop! Ichirou: Wh-... Are you really turning against me, even knowing what will happen... Goon: Shut uppp! I have a *much* better use for this! You're the one who's going to die!! Ichirou: A-Ahhhh!

Ichirou: Eh? Saejima: ...Guh... Damn, that really hurt. Goon: ....Ah. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah... Goon: Ahhhhhh!

Ichirou: ....W-Why? Saejima: C'mon. You were about to get stabbed. Saejima: Ain't it the same kinda thing yer father suffered? Ichirou: ....... Saejima: ....Shit. I... made my choice... to take that blade...

Saejima: ...Ichirou, what are ya doing? Aren't ya gonna arrest me? Nothin' I can do about it, right now. Ichirou: ...... Ha, hahah. Ichirou: You haven't changed at all, have you. Add yet my hands have gotten so dirty...

Saejima: ! Ichirou... Ichirou: .......27 years ago. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to think there had been some kind of mistake. Ichirou: ...I was in shock. I had seen the kind of man you were, and you were dazzling... Ichirou: ...But now, once more... I was able to see that again. Saejima: ...Ichirou. Saejima: ...Guh... Shit... Ichirou: I know a back alley doctor. They're close by... Saejima: No, I don't need taken care of. I'll do somethin' about this myself. Ichirou: But... Saejima: Heh. Stop givin' me that soft look. Ichirou: ... Then get out of here before anyone else comes. Is there anything I can do for you? Saejima: Is that gonna be okay? Just look the other way. Ichirou: Heh... I became a dirty cop a long time ago. Looking the other way one more time, for you, that's no problem at all. Saejima: ... I'm sorry, Ichirou. But... once I'm done with this, I'm going to atone for my crimes. I'll do it right. Ichirou: ... Atone, huh. Ichirou: ...Hey. Can you tell me one thing? Could I, even after all this, could I start over clean? Saejima: Yeah. People can always become better. Your feelings are proof of it. Ichirou: ........Truly? Saejima: Heh. That's what I learned from 25 years in the clink. It's the truth. Ichirou: Haha. You may be right... Police: There he is! Saejimaaaa! Saejima: Tch. They're comin'. Ichirou, see ya. Be strong! Ichirou: You as well. ......Saejima-sensei. Saejima: !

Saejima: ......Haha. Man, that's still embarassin'. ....See ya!

Ichirou: Someone to live up to, huh... Ichirou: ........Saejima-sensei. You truly are... the best teacher.

<END>

Bonus time: Hey rggo team? Hey guys?? You didn’t need to hurt Saejima MORE can’t the guy catch a break???

I like the expressions on this card a lot, here’s the rare “happy 1985 Saejima”

He makes that face exactly once for like 3 lines of dialogue while he’s teaching and then never again. Hey that hurts too actually. This card is just painful all around!!

an extra special bonus, all of the Goromis I got in my mania

She’s my highest atk unit now, beating out even Legend Majima

#rggo #Saejima #yakuza #Ryu ga Gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #Saejima Taiga

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idiopath-fic-smile · 4 years

Text

more 1950s lesbian amis

continued from this.

in which grantaire makes coffee, and a friend.

“Good morning,” said Chester. “Is that a new dress?”

It was not. Grantaire looked up warily from her sketchpad. She wasn’t good-looking enough for this to be anything but a ploy.

“Do you need something, Chester?” she asked in her sweetest voice, all cotton candy fumes.

“Secretary’s out this morning,” he told her. “That’s why there’s no coffee yet.” And there, it all clicked into place.

Grantaire schooled her face as blank as she could make it; if she was going to reach his conclusion, he’d have to drag her there.

“Thank you but I picked up a cup on my way here,” she said, nodding at her half-empty styrofoam cup. After last night’s disaster at the Musain, she had been unable to even imagine the L ride to the office without a fortifying blast of caffeine.

Chester stared meaningfully; Grantaire stared back, meaningless.

“Grantaire,” said Chester, as if talking to one very stupid, “do you think you could brew us a pot?”

Grantaire blinked. “Does this normally fall to the staff cartoonist when the secretary’s away?”

Chester made a suppressed sound of deep irritation. He spread his hands, appealing. “Listen, I could struggle through trying to make coffee for the office and no doubt poison everyone trying, or you could do it, and add that homey little touch I know all the fellas would appreciate.”

Homey. It was not a word you’d apply to Grantaire’s garden-level one-bedroom, which boasted stained wallpaper and a stove straight out of the Coolidge administration. Homely, maybe. Chester was the one with a home, and a wife, and a fat little baby and the money for a comfortable life.

“It’s only fair to divide the work according to natural aptitude, sweetheart,” Chester was saying, and it was the sweetheart that snapped Grantaire like a rubber band, that word deployed like a pat on the head, like penny candy for a crying baby, like a scrap of baloney to a dog, like it could only ever be the bitterest pity or the cruelest joke in concert with Grantaire’s face, with Grantaire’s entire being.

“‘From each according to their ability, to each according to their needs,’” she murmured in an agreeing tone.

“Now you got it,” Chester started, then frowned.

“Karl Marx, Chester,” said Grantaire. “Keep up, or someone might need to place a call to ol’ Joe.”

Chester’s entire countenance soured. “This is why you should leave it to the men to make the jokes,” he said, “and stick to what you can do--”

Grantaire stood. “I’ll make the coffee,” she said.

“There,” said Chester, “did that need to be such a production?”

The “Golden Ratio,” according to a high school Home Economics course which Grantaire had frankly passed by the skin of her teeth, was one to two tablespoons of coffee for every six ounces of hot water. Grantaire remembered this by virtue of having gotten it wrong many, many times. She was no good with math but the machine took thirty-six ounces of water, which meant the ideal amount of grounds was somewhere between six and twelve tablespoons.

“Stars shining bright above you,” Grantaire hummed under her breath, measuring and dumping coffee grounds into the filter. One, two, three, four, five.

Grantaire had gotten it wrong in high school because nobody in her house drank coffee. She hadn’t discovered the jolting benefits herself until her first year of art school, as the deadlines began to pile and the available time to meet them began to wane.

“Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you,” Grantaire hummed. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

If there had been a way to brave the choppy academic waters of work and criticism without chemical assistance, that path had been invisible to Grantaire. She had tried, she had cried, she had turned down “diet pills” that the other girl in her program swore by only because Grantaire figured her own figure couldn’t afford to be more unflatteringly stick-thin.

“Birds singing in the sycamore trees--” Eleven, twelve. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

The scrutiny and the pressure tempered the freedom of those heady days away from her parents. The expectation that Grantaire was only studying art as a way of killing time, until some charitable man came along to marry her, unless the poor dear simply couldn’t find anyone--she had found a survival strategy of her own, a roughly stitched-together patchwork of sarcasm and wine and more sarcasm, and coffee brewed so thick and strong it barely qualified as liquid.

“Dream a little dream of me.” Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Grantaire went ahead and dumped in the rest of the bag.

Grantaire was making shaky progress on her first deadline when Douglas stopped by her desk.

“Listen,” he blustered, “is this some kind of a joke?”

“Hm?”

“Your coffee’s undrinkable, it’s--” he faltered as Grantaire took a long swallow of the tarry substance in her mug. It was gritty and bitter, but by the standards of her art school years, only qualified as “medium dark.”

“Doug,” she said calmly, “if it’s too strong for you, you’re free to add plenty of milk and sugar.” She took another sip, meeting his eyes all the while.

He spun on the heel of his expensive dress shoe. As he stormed away, she could hear him mutter, at a passive-aggressive volume designed to be just-barely audible, but audible nonetheless, “No wonder she doesn’t have a man yet, can’t even make coffee right.”

“Grantaire?”

She looked up. The secretary was back from wherever she’d been, apparently.

“Hello,” said Grantaire, hoping that if she kept a friendly enough countenance, the secretary might not notice that Grantaire did not remember her name. “Are you feeling better?”

The secretary smiled, polite. She was young but plain, although not as plain as Grantaire. “Thank you, it was my mother, actually. She’s a little under the weather so I stopped home to bring her some soup and heat it up for her.” Grantaire nodded as if that kind of filial duty was a part of her daily life, too.

“Well, I hope her condition improves soon.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” An awkward pause began to bloom. Into it, Grantaire blurted, “Sorry if you had the coffee today.” “Oh,” said the secretary, “no, no, I drink tea.” Of course she did, thought Grantaire. She had the look of someone well acquainted with the proper use of a cup and saucer. She lowered her voice slightly. “Douglas informed me all about this morning’s coffee maker adventure.” She lowered her voice a little more. “In some detail.” “Yes, I must have lost count spooning in the grounds,” said Grantaire blandly. “I can’t imagine how it slipped my mind.” “I can,” said the secretary with a crooked smile. Somehow, with both eyes wide open, she gave the impression of winking. “Say, Grantaire. I don’t suppose you could take your lunch break with me? There’s a park across the street, it’s very quiet. Private.” Grantaire nodded. “Good,” said the secretary. That crooked smile again. “My name is Combeferre, by the way.”

“You know, I saw you the other day,” said Combeferre as she neatly removed a packet of celery sticks wrapped in waxed paper from her lunch bag. “Did you.” Grantaire ran through her mental list of places she’d been over the past several days. If she was very, very lucky, maybe Combeferre simply meant that she’d glimpsed Grantaire at the Jewel, picking up some groceries for her tragically empty fridge. Combeferre glanced around the park in a very natural, off-hand way. “At the Musain,” she said. Grantaire’s stomach dropped. She could feel her grip on her turkey sandwich going white-knuckled. “Chester and Murray, such a pair of jokesters,” she said at last. “I suppose I was being hazed last night--” “No, I saw you last Thursday,” said Combeferre quiety. “By yourself.” Grantaire hadn’t been in there for more than forty-five seconds. Had all of Chicago seen? She felt something bubble up inside her. “So,” said Grantaire, trying to match Combeferre’s even, calm voice. “Is this blackmail, then? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I’ve gotten my first check, I’m a bit light at the moment.” Combeferre blinked. “Oh dear,” she said, “oh no, you misunderstand me completely. I saw you from inside.” “You were there?” said Grantaire, feeling very dumb for not having picked up on any sign of Sapphism earlier. There was nothing obvious in her manner or dress. The comment about stopping home to see her mother might have suggested she was still living with her parents, and thus unmarried, but plenty of girls did that. Of course, not every woman of a woman-loving bent chose to broadcast it to the world like that short-haired Amazon in the bar restroom. Combeferre’s hairdo and clothes were no doubt chosen for hiding, like Grantaire’s. “Do you have plans this weekend?” Combeferre asked, and Grantaire attempted not to look entirely pole-axed. Was this a pass? Grantaire felt no immediate pull, but, wretchedly, she realized she was lonely enough to consider it. She raised her eyebrows. “You see, I belong to, um, a social organization,” Combeferre continued, unaware. “We could use some new members, and it would be so nice to know someone else at work--” “Is it a book group?” said Grantaire. “A tupperware exchange? A cat appreciation society?” Combeferre smiled. “I do like cats,” she said. “No, we’re. Hm. The Chicago branch of a group of like-minded individuals who find ourselves on a slightly divergent path from the majority of mankind. It’s a very relaxed, informal thing. We’re meeting at the apartment of a friend for spaghetti dinner on Saturday. I can give you the details if you’re interested.” “And you’re all women?” Grantaire said. “We are,” said Combeferre. What the hell. It wasn’t as if there was a line of people waiting to make Saturday night plans with her. “Alright,” said Grantaire. “Wonderful.” Combeferre gave her an address, although Grantaire didn’t know the city well enough for it to mean much without a map. Her eyes briefly scanned the park again. “And I should add that you don’t have to use your real name,” she said. “In fact, I think most of us don’t.” “Some tupperware club you’re running, lady,” said Grantaire, and Combeferre half-laughed. “I was going to leave you a note,” said Combeferre, “on your desk, explaining everything in advance, but then my mother was sick and there wasn’t any time.” “If anyone saw what you wrote,” Grantaire started. “In shorthand, of course. None of the men would understand.” “I can’t read shorthand,” said Grantaire. “I took a course on it but that was about the time I realized my future would need to be elsewhere.” “I was going to be a physician,” said Combeferre dreamily. Grantaire turned to face her. “I had the grades, you know. Biology was my best subject, and I enjoy helping people.” “What happened?” Grantaire asked uneasily.

“Oh,” said Combeferre. “I had a marvelous professor. I’d asked him to write me a recommendation, and he pulled me aside and explained that if I’d have to do twice the work for half the respect, which was of course the truth. I considered nursing, but a life of emptying bedpans and dodging the head doctor’s wandering hands didn’t appeal.” “So instead you empty inboxes and dodge Richard’s wandering hands,” said Grantaire. “You’ll fit right in with my friends,” Combeferre said with another smile. “I’m sorry about what my friend said to you last night. She has an excellent heart and is a key part of our set, but she can be somewhat severe.”

“Do you mean the Hippolyta who cornered me in the powder room?” “Undoubtedly,” said Combeferre. Then, “oh, and definitely don’t call her that!” “Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Grantaire.

#eXr DOB

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verryberriess · 4 years

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Accept Me As Your Valentine’s | Rowaelin Oneshot

This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written!! Thanks to my bestie @maastrash for the encouragement and helping me out :D I hope you guys like it!

Rating: T, mild swearing

Summary: February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. And Aelin had spent all night making chocolates for a certain someone...

Note: There is potential for the side stories to be written out ... let me know what you think!

February 14. Valentine’s Day. A tradition celebrated around the world where gifts and flowers are exchanged between lovers in order to express a physical act of love. Gifts didn’t have to necessarily be exchanged between lovers, however. Many, in fact, are exchanged between close friends and offered to those whom someone admires.

At Greenbriar High School, Valentine’s Day had become a popular school event over the years. February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. It was the ultimate event of courage for girls and guys of all classes to attempt a confession towards the person they admired from afar. The hope of having one’s feelings returned often came at the expense of high-end chocolate carefully wrapped in gold foil imported from Switzerland and Belgium or opulent custom-designed pastries from French patisseries.

Rowan Whitethorn, Aedion Ashyrver, and Fenrys Moonbeam were some particular individuals whom many girls had intended to present their chocolates to on this special day, for the reason that these men were the most eligible bachelors of Greenbriar High.

School legend claimed that a couple years ago, alumni Lorcan Salvaterre, infamous for his ruthless and dark manner, had actually started dating someone after she had presented chocolates to him on this particular day. As a result, most people reasoned that if the notorious Lorcan could be swayed by some certain chocolates on Valentine’s Day, there was certainly some charm in the event that had provoked such a miracle.

Amidst the bustling student body, Aelin Galathynius stood in front of her locker and stared down at what she clutched in her hands. A tiny, golden, heart-shaped box she had purchased from the local art store for her homemade chocolates. She had even put in the effort to tie a little bow across the box to complete the aesthetic. It had taken her all night to prepare her chocolates. Although she was certainly talented in consuming large quantities of the physical manifestations of cocoa heaven, they were absolutely a pain to produce. Cooking was not in her favor.

She remembered last night’s events where she burned her first batch of cream and chocolate in the bowl, and in her second attempt, somehow the chocolate had managed to never melt. She stirred for one whole hour for the mixture to turn liquidy as the recipe called; it was apparent that after she had Googled the approximate time it took for chocolate to melt under this process, she knew she had to start over again. Hence, third time's a charm when she followed an easier recipe.

In the end, she had successfully made chocolates-- or well-- it was as chocolate as chocolate could be. Her chocolate turned out lumpy, with unusual grooves and warts sticking out in various directions. Perhaps that was due to the almond shavings she had added for an artistic touch? Were truffles supposed to carry such a discoloring? She compared her outcome to the one in the article. Ehh.

Aelin took a bite out of one of the six chocolates that had survived her horrific cooking venture. “Hmm,” she mulled over its unusual taste. It was definitely edible. But did it taste like the usual chocolatey decadence she was so accustomed to? Big no. Even if it was chocolate. Even if she was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur who would probably consume any form of chocolate in the world. What she had concocted was a big mistake.

Aelin couldn’t afford to waste any more heavy cream. The jar of cocoa powder that she had gotten earlier that day was also almost out. And it wasn’t like the general store near her operated 24/7. Carefully assembling the remaining five chocolates in the box she had acquired on sale just for tomorrow’s occasion, she wrapped a golden ribbon across and pulled the ends tight.

She couldn’t reason how so many of her fellow classmates had thousands of dollars to spend on chocolates that carried high risk of being rejected. Actually, maybe that was the best form of action anyways, since her truffles didn’t exactly turn out how chocolates were supposed to. But, in reality, this was all Aelin could afford. She lived in the most underprivileged neighborhood in the area and rode on the bus for an hour to get to school everyday. Some days after school, she worked a part-time job to pay for her rent. She was sincerely thankful for being able to attend Greenbriar High under a full scholarship despite the air being polluted by rich snobs and bigots. Nevertheless, Aelin was most thankful for the best friend she’s ever made in her life there. These chocolates were for him, after all.

He better be thankful. Aelin was on the verge of hand-writing letters to thank each chocolate company in the country for their honorable service. She had a newfound appreciation for the treat.

Aelin peered out of her locker to look over her shoulder at an onslaught of girls and boys. The crowd was immense. She hadn’t realized the extent of the school event’s popularity until now. She witnessed some groups exchange treats with each other and heard others talking animatedly about who they would offer theirs to. But the majority of the crowd was focused around a certain group that everyone had aspired to give their chocolates to. Rowan, Fenrys, and Aedion walked as a group through the hall, conversing with each other, stopping intermittently to interact with brave souls who tried to give them chocolates. Fenrys looked like a balancing act. He carried stacks upon stacks of chocolates and sweets within his arms. The pile seemed to grow with each passing second. Aelin feared for all of the treats that would scatter across the school if he ever toppled over… she just hoped she would get there in time to maybe steal some for herself? Aedion carried a few chocolates himself, but most of them were probably hidden inside of his bag, since it was looking extra stuffed today.

She watched as a girl, holding luxury chocolate bars Aelin would have died to get her hands on, approach a notable tall, silver-haired, pine-green eyed individual. He only carried his backpack on his right shoulder-- any sweets he may have received were out of sight. The girl blushed, determinedly held out the chocolates, and shyly insisted, “Rowan, please accept these chocolates!”

Rowan looked upon the unassuming girl and the chocolates with disinterest and replied, “... No.”

With encouragement from her friends to try again, the girl piped up assuredly, “If you could just-”

Rowan cut her off, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept these.”

The crowd around Rowan and the girl didn’t seem to decrease even with Rowan’s apt rejection. In fact, it only seemed to get bigger. Of course Rowan would reject the chocolates though, reasoned Aelin. He was never big on sweets. But maybe he would accept hers-

Before Aelin could reconsider, she saw Rowan reject yet another person across the hall. This time, he rejected a guy who had wanted to thank Rowan for his help from some extracurricular activity.

No. This is stupid, thought Aelin. If he didn’t accept someone’s chocolates meant to thank him for his help, what were the odds of Rowan accepting hers? They weren’t that close, were they? She had wanted to thank him for being a good friend to her. He was one of her closest friends at school. He had introduced her to the rest of his group and allowed her to meet Lysandra and Fenrys. Why did she feel like she needed a better reason to present him her chocolates?

Aelin shoved her chocolates in her locker and collected her books for the school day.

When she walked into Second period, she scrambled to her seat and shrunk into her chair and focused on a peculiar spot on her desk. It was not long after until Rowan walked in and made eye contact with her. Immediately, his resting bitch face morphed into a grin, “Hey, Fireheart!” Rowan made his way towards Aelin’s seat.

Aelin looked up from the all-too interesting black dust speck and carefully crafted her response, smiling smugly, “Buzzard! I’m surprised you’re not carrying a mountain of chocolates with you.”

Rowan smirked, “Well, I have my own agenda to account for today.” Rowan peered at Aelin expectantly. Aelin only stared back. Was he trying to communicate telepathically with her somehow? She would have to remind him again that it wouldn’t work. “But I’m also wondering-- “

Before Rowan could finish, their teacher walked in and silenced the room with her eerie screeching throughout the class. Rowan, about to quickly tell Aelin something, hastily turned back around towards the board at the lecturing tone of their teacher, who reminded him that class had already started.

Aelin was confused. But she figured he would tell her later. They sat at lunch together with the rest of their friends anyway. During the entirety of the class, Aelin couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to ask her. He looked at her as if he was expecting something, but he also looked hesitant to ask her about whatever he wanted to ask. His idiotic face was too much for her to think about right now. What did he expect from her? Chocolates? No, she was still on the brink of destroying those utter atrocities. She had yet to decide whether she still wanted to give them to him, but considering the way he acted towards everyone else who tried to give him something, she was leaning to not.

Towards the end of class, Aelin packed up her bag and readied her materials for her next class. Next period she had to turn in a paper before class started. Otherwise, it would be considered late.

When the bell rang signaled for Passing period, Rowan turned back around in his seat to approach Aelin again, but she remarked, “I’ll see you at lunch! I have a paper to turn in!” and ran out of the classroom.

At lunch, she found the usual table already occupied by her friends who were already discussing intensely about the events of their day so far. It was apparent that everyone already had dozens of boxes of treats set out before them. She sat down next to Lysandra and inquired about her friends’ large collections, “How do you guys already have so many chocolates? It’s literally lunch and we only sat through three periods of the day so far,” Aelin was seriously concerned with the popularity of her own friends. With their collection alone, they could feed a whole nation. The total costs of all of the gifts themselves could probably amount to the entire GDP of England or something.

“Well, Aelin, it’s all because of my infinitesimal charm. It’s also a little process I like to call, ‘accept and accept’” replied Fenrys jokingly.

“No, I’m specifically wondering why YOU, of all people, have been offered chocolate!” Aelin grinned back. She loved joking with Fenrys. But now she wondered why she ended up empty handed. No one had offered her anything yet. Maybe she had been too much of an oddball at school to make any sort of formidable impression among her peers. Was she too unapproachable? She watched the exchange between Lysandra and Aedion. She guessed that eighty percent of the gifts that Lysandra received were from Aedion. It would have been nice to receive something too…

Next, she observed Rowan. He had resigned from any conversation to focus all of his concentration on his food to ignore Fenrys, who kept berating him with a small box of special hazelnut chocolates Fenrys had gotten from Russia. That especially looked appetizing. “Come on, Rowan! I ordered these a few days ago just for you! They taste just like Nutella!”

Rowan grumbled something incoherent and concentrated harder onto his food.

Fenrys eyebrows furrowed. He turned away from Rowan to face Aelin. An idea must have hit him because soon his disappointed expression morphed into that of a devious one. Aelin waited to brace herself for whatever rambunctious idea that Fenrys had apparently come up with. “So Aelin, would you mind-”

The movement was so fast, the whole table fell silent at the abrupt speed that had been displayed. Rowan had swiped the hazelnut chocolates from Fenrys, tucked them besides his lunch, and resumed eating. Aelin was shocked about what had just happened. Lysandra and Aedion, who had paused their conversation, both resumed their exchange. Their talking had seemed to lower even more so in volume, almost to that of whispers, discussing whatever between themselves that had to be kept a secret from all of them. Expressions coy, they traded little smiles and light touches between each other. Fenrys’ only response to Rowan’s reaction was a gleeful smile of victory. He continued to badger Rowan as they both ate.

Aelin scrutinized the little box of chocolates that Rowan had kept next to his lunch container. Damn, she really wanted them. She was so ready to accept them from Fenrys if Rowan hadn’t stolen them away. As if he sensed her watching his chocolates, he gracefully gathered them closer towards himself, out of her reach. Aelin huffed in resignation. There was no way she could attempt to steal the treats now.

While everyone had an endless supply of chocolates, where were hers? She was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur. She was the most qualified to be receiving chocolates. This kind of school event was made for her! She should have been receiving all sorts of things now. She knew she wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the school, nor a typical rich kid that could lure others to be her friend, but she wasn’t a fiend! Consequently, her own source of chocolates from this day were the chocolates that she had made herself… and while those things were chocolate, under her jurisdiction, they were not qualified to be considered as such. To top it all off, she hadn’t even made those chocolates for herself.

She looked out at the other tables. A group of girls cheered as they exchanged little boxes with bows tied atop. She saw another guy blush and shyly present a heart-shaped box to another girl. Groups mingled and high fived each other as they handed out treats to each other. Aelin’s felt an unpleasant tug in her chest as she observed students carry out the gift-giving event.

But as Aelin turned her attention back to her own table, she had realized that her friends had exchanged chocolates without her. She watched Fenrys play Jenga out of the boxes that he received and Lysandra and Aedion in their own world. Rowan only kept Fenrys’ chocolate, but that was because he had turned down all of the other gifts throughout the day. She looked at the collection of chocolates that Lysandra and Aedion scattered around them on the table and zeroed in on two tiny red-wrapped boxes of hazelnut chocolates that have been imported from Russia.

Aelin frowned. Suddenly those hazelnut chocolates didn’t look so appetizing anymore. Nor any of the other chocolates that she had seen exchanged today. She couldn’t control the feeling of her lips starting to tremble or the sudden deep tugging in her chest that felt like a million bricks had settled atop her chest. She tentatively rose from her seat at the table. Her long bangs shielded her misted eyes from the group, fortunately covering her face as she remarked shakily, “I just remembered I had an assignment due next period. I’ll see you guys later.”

As Aelin stood up, about to leave, Rowan called, “Wait, Aelin, you’ve barely touched your food.”

Aedion chimed in, “Yeah, you should eat at least a little bit, Aelin. We still have three more periods to go.”

It was true. Aelin had just gotten back from class and knew that she’d only sat for a few minutes. She had barely touched her lunch. But the gnawing in her gut diminished her usually ravenous appetite. Aelin pulled on a smile. It was strange how exhausting it felt to force her lips to tug in a motion that was so effortless and natural to execute only moments before. She couldn’t see the group’s reaction, but responded, “I’m suddenly just not hungry anymore.” She pivoted herself around so as to not face the group and walked out of the cafeteria in haste.

It was bad enough that sometimes she had felt like an outsider at her own school. But the feeling only solidified today as she truly realized the reality of her position. She interacted and got along with her classmates well and participated in class, and although she was not as close to her peers she wanted to be, compared to herself and her usual group, it hit her that one of her classmates had passed out goodie bags of candy corn to everyone in the class but her. She didn’t realize it until the end of class when she asked her classmate why everyone held the same goodie bag. It didn’t bother her that much because she was eager to go to lunch… but now it was at the forefront of her mind. And now? She felt like an outsider to her own lunch group.

Her footsteps thudded through the hall. They sounded louder than usual, as if she were the only one walking through them. There were a few people loitering the hallway, yet they felt so far away. This small stretch of space that usually felt so narrow and crowded now felt like it could stretch for miles. All Aelin could hear right now were her footsteps. Everything else was muted. Her thoughts whirled, a simultaneous mess of gibberish and nothingness and everything at the same time. Her steps carried her to her locker, where she now beheld the little, golden, heart-shaped box. She didn’t have the heart to throw out the hours of work that she put into the little monstrosities, but…

Rowan had been offered chocolates that had probably cost more than her whole month’s rent. Fenrys’ were from Russia for fuck’s sake. If he had trouble accepting even his own friend’s presents, what were the odds of him accepting hers? It’s not like she was any different as a person compared to her friends. But even so, what did she have to offer? She was poor. She walked in rags and everyone else lept in riches. Aelin felt the tears that she fought so hard to suppress well up and stream down her face. If she could physically put a price on how much she felt she owed Rowan, the number would be in the thousands. Millions. What did crippled, deformed chocolates amount to compared to the things that these daughters and sons of millionaires could afford and buy without even batting an eye?

Rowan had given her so much. So, so much. Friendship. Laughter. Dessert... And something else she was so afraid to put into words. She knew it in her heart earlier when she began thinking of what to gift him. She knew what she had felt when she tried to make the chocolates over and over again. She knew what she was trying to convince away from herself when she stood at her locker this morning and watched Rowan reject gift after gift.

But she wouldn’t admit it now. Couldn’t. She was far too stubborn. She tightly gripped the box in her hands and closed her locker door. She gripped the box so hard the cheap cardboard repaid her in wrinkles and a large, thumb-sized dent. The box looked so worn. Its cover was dented and soiled with the scent of salt; the bow she so proudly tied together flopped, weighed down from its damp ends, saturated by her tears.

Aelin smuggled the box into her backpack and slid down the wall of lockers to settle on the floor.

-----

She avoided the group the rest of the day, but she often saw Rowan in the distance. During class, Aelin once looked out the window and saw Rowan casually standing a few meters away from her classroom. As if he sensed the instance she noticed his presence, he immediately walked in the opposite direction of her classroom. During Passing period, she would often see Rowan walk in her direction. But when she saw him nearing, she took a detour. She was successful in avoiding the others the whole day, but somehow it was as if Rowan was everywhere.

At break, she noticed that when she walked to her spot, Rowan was already there, so she walked away quickly. But when she went to another room, it was like he appeared out of nowhere. Today, to her dismay, it seemed that he was just always within her vicinity.

After school, she made up her mind. This would be the last time she would interact with any of them. This would serve as her final good bye, and a big “fuck you” to Rowan’s asshole rejections.

She walked outside of the school to the spot they usually meet up at to walk home together. As Aelin neared, she scowled at a line that had seemed to form. But a line for what? Her eyes traced the direction of the line to its head. Who would have thought. A line to present chocolates to Rowan Whitethorn. It seemed as though many people had acquired the same idea as she had. But now, the energy in the crowd that had gathered felt even more intense than that of this morning.

The line consisted of both girls and guys. They lined up one after another. A tall, athletic guy Aelin knew as Jasen presented a large box of Japanese candy and asserted, “Hey Rowan! The basketball team all pitched in to buy this for you. We really appreciate you for helping us in our championship game.” Rowan wasn’t officially on the team, but secretly subbed in the last quarter, he had ended up scoring the winning basket. “Hopefully we can play again sometime,” Jasen smiled.

Rowan replied lamely, “... I hate mushroom-shaped, matcha flavored konpeito.”

The group of guys that encouraged their friend to approach Rowan argued amongst themselves. “Why did you give him those? Did he seem like a mushroom-shaped, matcha-flavor konpeito type of guy to you?!”

A girl with brunette curls and sun-kissed skin came forward, “Rowan, I’ve always wanted to thank you for helping me last year. It really meant a lot to me, and I don’t want anything in return, but it would make me really happy if you could accept these…?”

Rowan inspected the chocolates and flowers she held out to him and examined the brunette’s face. The crowd was silent, eagerly waiting for his response. Will he accept them? He would actually be an asshole if he didnt, thought Aelin.

“Sorry, I don’t think I remember helping you, so I can’t accept these.”

The girl insisted, “It’s Lyria. You helped deliver flowers to the hospital with me to my parents last year.”

“Oh, well, Lyria, I’m sorry, but it’s just that I actually don’t remember you… so,” Rowan shifted uneasily.

“Buzzard,” Aelin cursed at Rowan’s bad memory. He was actually the worst.

The line increasingly reduced as he rejected person after person. No matter the reason, no matter how intensely they felt about him, Rowan rejected them. But also after each rejection, came an energy of rejuvenation as the next person somehow felt even more fired up to present their gift. The courage was astounding.

“Sorry-”

“Sorry, I-”

After what seemed like hours, the mile-long line had dwindled to nothing. Rowan had accepted absolutely no one’s gifts. But the crowd remained, eager to see who would bravely face him next. This event had in some way transitioned into a spirited competition of who could possibly get Rowan Whitethorn to accept their gift. This competition would forever be embedded in the yearbooks. The energy was wild. It was legendary. No one so far had accomplished this feat. Aelin could tell people had lost any sense of unease. No matter one’s status or wealth, everyone had been rejected just because. And by the time the line had dwindled down to twenty, not one had felt shame in approaching him, no less in offering him their gifts in fear of rejection.

Aelin looked around. It seemed that there was no one else who wanted to approach him. They were all defeated. They only waited for the next person to advance toward him. She sucked in her feelings and walked down towards him in an air of pridefulness. No matter, she was just going to do what she had to do and go about her life.

Although the path towards him was only a few feet, it seemed like she had walked for an endless number of miles. She had turned her attention towards the ground as she walked, so, so hesitant to take the next step. But her mind fought to keep her walking towards him. She needed to do this for him. She needed to do this for herself. It was like everything was muted again. The chatter surrounding them faded to a dull white noise and as she looked up towards his face-- as he commenced to close the distance from where he stood all those dozens of times students tried to propose to him. His pine green eyes met her turquoise blue. She couldn’t deny the sudden intensity in them, compared to the obvious disinterest that he had shown to others time and time beforehand. His mouth firm, but in awe as if struck by her presence. There it was, his usual, idiotic Buzzard face.

Now, they stood only a few inches apart. She glowered at him and he bored his eyes back into hers. They were so close Aelin could smell his scent of pine and snow. She didn’t know what to make of his reaction, because they had only just stared at each other, as if the first person to speak would shatter the electric energy that peaked in the atmosphere, as if the other person would explode into pieces just from their speech alone. Aelin was addicted to this energy whenever she was with him. When they were walking home together, when they hung out at each other’s houses, or when they had bought each other ice cream and devoured them on the flowery grass at the park. No, Aelin was mistaken. She could never say goodbye to Rowan. She could only ever welcome him back into her life, welcome back an even stronger relationship than they had initially formed.

But, when she finally chose to speak first, “Rowan, I-”

At the same time, Rowan uttered, “Fireheart, I’ve-”

Aelin’s cheeks noticeably burned. The realization of what she was doing finally had caught up to her. Her face burned even hotter as if she was branded by the 350°F heat of a thousand ovens baking chocolate chip cookies. As she looked at Rowan’s face, she couldn’t help but feel relieved at his instant blush as well. “You go first,” Aelin said.

At Aelin’s command, Rowan proceeded, “I’ve been waiting for you. Since this morning, I just-”

But Aelin was too impatient. She had steeled her mind from any sort of rejection. She primed herself and wanted to get it over with, so she took up the heart-shaped box she held in her hands and cut him off, “No!”

Rowan immediately stopped himself and looked at her, bewildered.

This was the first time Aelin would let herself acknowledge her feelings. At this realization, she had wanted to let him know. She wanted him to know her feelings. As she replayed her interactions with him for the past five months she’s known him in her mind throughout her classes today, she knew that she had to use today to finally get her feelings out. She would hurt afterwards, but at least he would know, because every little thought of hers had been crashing down on her lately. He was on her mind everyday. She would hurt but Aelin knew she had the ability to slowly put herself back together again.

And so, Aelin took her stance.

She exhaled harshly,

And aggressively shoved the box against his broad chest.

The crowd around them was stunned at this sudden development.

“When I first came to Greenbriar, I never expected to form close ties with anyone. But it was you who had worn down the iron walls I had so carefully crafted up, because of your stupid, stupid idiocy, and I,” Aelin paused, “And today,” She took a deep breath, “Today I really wanted to get rid of you and Fenrys and Lysandra and Aedion from my stupid life because I-- I felt hurt.” Aelin closed her eyes to collect herself.

“Fireheart, I can-”

“No, I need to say this… Just, let me get this out… please.” Aelin regained her composure and started again, “When I thought about cutting ties with you guys, I recounted all of the memories we made together in these five months alone. I have never felt so happy in my life before I came here, and I realized it was because of everyone. And then I remembered those times you picked me up in the middle of the night and took me to this beautiful, beautiful spot to admire the stars. I recounted how I knew my heart began to mend so slowly; it was so slow, but it was healing, and I knew it was only because I was with you. So I realized I could never say goodbye. Not ever. ”

“So,” She picked a crease on Rowan’s shirt to focus on, looked up into his eyes, which crinkled back immediately in response, and shouted at him, “Rowan, I like you! Accept my chocolates!”

Rowan peered down at her. A visible blush painted his cheeks and the corner of his lips quirked upwards into a small smile. Rowan closed his large hands around Aelin’s small ones, gently taking up the marred heart-shaped box from her hands, and pulled Aelin into a tight embrace. He enclosed her within his arms and held her tight, as if he feared she would fly away from him. In response, Aelin instinctively leaned into the crook of his shoulder. Rowan bent down to bury himself within her hair. They fit together perfectly. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she, him.

Rowan pulled back from her hair to face Aelin, grinning, “Fireheart, of course I’ll accept your chocolates.” Without letting Aelin out of his embrace, Rowan tugged on the ribbon of the box and popped one of the chocolates in his mouth. “Mm, as expected from my Fireheart. They don’t taste like chocolates at all.”

Aelin glared back up at him as Rowan licked some of the remnants from his finger and continued, “But, Miss Chocolate Connoisseur, this is truly unacceptable.”

“What now?” Aelin sunk in deeper into his embrace.

Rowan reached into his pocket, “You’re simply not qualified to be the one giving out chocolates. It’s demeaning of you.” He pulls out a key and slips it into Aelin’s palm.

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion and inspected the key that Rowan placed in her hand, “Are you trying to ask me to move in with you or something? I think that’s a bit fast, don’t you think? You didn’t even kiss me yet.”

Rowan’s cheeks burned further, “It’s the key to the Godiva store in downtown. You can enter the store and take whatever you want, whenever.”

“Even when it’s closed?”

“Even when it’s closed. And on that note, I’m sorry for how you felt today… I know I hurt you, I was supposed to give you this key this morning,” Rowan looked away and whispered, “Yesterday, I... threatened the whole student body to not gift anything to you because,” Rowan spoke even more softly, so that only Aelin could hear, “Fireheart, you’re mine to spoil. I want you to know that I love you. Out of every single person in this school, out of every single person on this earth, and perhaps even the universe, you’re the only person I would accept chocolates from. The only person I’ll concede to, fall for, and let my heart be stolen from.”

Aelin looked at him and traced the swirls of his tattoo with her eyes, like she had done a thousand times already whenever they were together. She felt her heart swell. It was healed. Her heart had fully healed. Its tiny cracks mended and now the weight of her heart that initially only served to weigh her down made her feel so so light, she was afraid she would accidentally soar into the sky. So, Aelin stood on her tiptoes, reached up to grab at Rowan’s hair to pull him down at her level and muttered, “Territorial bastard,” before crashing her lips onto his to feel the electricity between them once more.

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years

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A misunderstood scenario of Dazai, Atsushi, Tanizaki, Chuuya and Fyodor when s/o gives them chocolate on Valentine's Day as a token of gratitude instead of a love confession they had high hopes for. Please?

♡ Dazai Osamu ♡

Ah, Valentines! The perfect day for a double suicide, no? Well, that's what Dazai would joke around with at least! He never gave much thought to such a trivial holiday but then again, he didn't despise it either. It was just a holiday meant for lovers and he couldn't help but to daydream about his own love. For awhile now he imagined them being all blushy and cute, giving him a confession letter under the cherry blossom as he happily accepts it... And they start their life together.

Still, daydreams were just daydreams, and Dazai knew that. If he wanted s/o to be his, he needed to make a move and he needed to do it fast. Luckily for him he was a natural flirt and good with his words. He had prepared everything from the location, to the flowers that were going to be given, his confession, everything.

But, what he did not expect was bumping in to his s/o, them holding a heart shaped box and giving it to him. Dazai was beyond confused but boy was he delighted. s/o had made things so much easier for him and to top it off, they had feelings for him!

"Dazai, I just wanted to thank you for always sticking by my side through thick and thin. God knows I would have died long ago if it wasn't for you watching out for me..."

Awwww, how cute was this! Dazai couldn't help but to smile but he didn't dare speak up. He didn't want to interrupt them in their touching confession~.

"...you really are my best friend in the whole wide world, you know that right?"

Hold up a second.

Friend.

s/o adressed him as a friend. Not as a lover or a crush...but as a friend. The shock on Dazai's face was evident but it disappeared as quickly as it came. He put on a fake smile, took s/o's hands in to his own and thanked them for the gift. His grip was a bit tighter then he meant it to be though which would have betrayed his true intentions had he not been such a master manipulator. So that's how things are, hm? He's just a friend and nothing more? Apologies sweetheart but things are going to change fast, real fast... And darling dearest won't even see it coming~!

♡ Nakajima Atsushi ♡

Atsushi never really gave much thought to holidays such as Valentine's day. The only major ones in his life were holidays like Christmas or New Years but even then, it wasn't like Atsushi had anyone to celebrate them with. He was lonely in the orphanage he grew up in and his caretakers didn't exactly get with the program when it came to holidays. Even so, Atushi can't help but to find Valentine's day a bit sad because it's day meant for lovers and yet the only thing the dreaded holiday does is remind him of his bitter and constant loneliness. A/N Same Atsushi, SAME.

It didn't help that the one he loved for Valentine's most likely already had plans with someone... Someone who wasn't him... He was just depressed the entire damn day and he tried his best to just burry himself in his work. At the end of the day though, s/o approached his desk with their hands behind their back as a cheerful smile made its way on to their face. Poor Atsushi couldn't help but to stare as he started to blush. The blush only deepened the moment s/o revealed what was in their hand.

It was a box of chocolates.

And they were meant for him! Was this real?! Was this actually happening?!? It was literally everything Atsushi dreamt for... The sun was setting and by the end of the day he can be with s/o forever and ever... However, his dream was shattered the moment they opened their mouth though.

"Atsushi, thank you so much for being my friend! I know it's a bit of an odd day to give you this kind of present but I just couldn't help myself! I hope you like the flavours inside though, there were many to chose from..."

Soon enough, s/o melodic voice faded in to the background as Atsushi processed their words. s/o thanked him, for being their friend.

A friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Of course this was going to happen, how could have he been so stupid to get his hopes up and imagine othervise...? Of course a weakling like him could never have a darling angel by his side like s/o... But it still hurt.. It hurt so badly, as if someone had stabbed him right in the chest and ripped his heart out. He couldn't help but to be hurt, he couldn't help but to let his eyes water up slightly as s/o continued talking.

He really was a god damn failure.

But he'll be damned if he lets anyone defile s/o's innocence and happiness. Himself included.

♡ Tanizaki Junichiro ♡

Tanizaki knew that he was never really special at anything but that didn't stop him from dreaming. He was never brave enough to actually confess to his s/o but if they approuch him first he will be flustered but happy none the less. He listens and listens, taking in every word like a sponge until his darling says that one cursed word.

"Thank you for being my friend!"

Ouch.

Just... ouch. A part of Tanizaki knew that this would happen but the deeper, darker side of him wasn't willing to accept the fact that his feelings were one sided. He now knows that his hands must get dirtied, for his own sake and sanity. God help whoever crosses his path because he may not look like it but Tanizaki is a force to be reckoned with. And he will gladly bare his teeth in order to win s/o over.

♡ Nakahara Chuuya ♡

Chuuya is smooth and boy does he know it. He's used his wit and charm countless times to help him with women and never once has he been taken by surprise. So just pitcure his beet red face as s/o gives him chocolates on Valentine's day.

His throat is dry and he is at a loss for words. He is trying so hard to play it off and it almost works, almost.

That is if s/o hadn't friendzoned him right there and then.

His facade will drop and anger will overcome him, his blood is boiling as he just walks away, leaving s/o all alone. He didn't even bother with taking the chocolates, those are the least of his worries. Don't get him wrong, he appreciates the gesture but damn it he can't take it anymore. All he asks for is s/o's love, not their admiration. He's not willing to settle on that, he just cannot. He is just too far gone in his dark obsession to let his darling go because if he does it might end up killing him.

Please just... please... let him love you.

♡ Fyodor Dostoyevsky ♡

Fyodor was never the one to ponder on such trivial matters such as love but with the lovers holiday just around the corner the Russian man couldn't help but to be at least interested in it. He had his little mouse to think about and distract him from his very important work after all. So, who could blame him for having his head up in the clouds?

He wasn't planing to make his dreams a reality though, not yet at least.

So imagine his surprise and delight when he sees his darling mouse enter his office with a cutely wrapped box. It was almost impossible for him to keep his signature smirk hidden but yet he was able to do so successfully. He will patiently wait for them to start, all the while his violet gaze never quite leaves their form. He's taken by surprise which is a rarity for him. If it were anyone else he would be displeased, downright angry even.

But to him, s/o isn't just anyone.

He listens closley to their little speech and he's over the moon. His plan was working, s/o was his at last. But there was just a single obstacle though. s/o told him that she admired him not loved him, that he was a treasured friend.

...well this is going downhill.

He won't outright admit it to himself but Fyodor is bitter, very much so. He needs more of them, not just their friendship. No matter, Fyodor always gets what he wants in the end. And s/o is not going to be an acception.

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brynnmck · 4 years

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J/B Exchange Recs Round 1!

I have not been around Tumblr much lately because I was so preoccupied with stuff for @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange, but I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I figured what better place to start than with some recs?

These are currently skewed a bit toward my amaaaazing gift fic and the amaaaaazing ones I beta-ed, since I am way behind on my reading, but there will be more to come!

Backpfeifengesicht by @samirant - I am so unbelievably grateful that I had both amazing prompts/amazing recipient for the fic I wrote, and such a fabulous gift fic too. I was still working on my own fic and very sleep-deprived and flagging when I read this for the first time and I think I may have actually left my body on a wave of sheer euphoria. IT IS ALL THE GOOD THINGS. So many of my favorite vacation/road trip tropes--drunken shenanigans! Intimate late-night conversations while everyone else is sleeping/elsewhere! Friends being too involved in your relationship! Unexpected forced proximity! And the banter is glorious, and the secondary characters are so well thought out and add such depth and vibrance to the story, and the Sansa/Margaery subplot was DELIGHTFUL, and I love the way this structured Brienne's relationship to Tyrion and then to Jaime as an extension of that, and the resolution was handled with an absolutely perfect balance of hilarity and heat. (There was also the stuff throughout that was very targeted to me specifically WHICH I APPRECIATED, so thanks to both Sami and @forbiddenfantasies1 for that). About 20% of the way into the story, I was deeply convinced it was Sami, and in the best possible way--it had the hallmarks I love about her writing: her sense of humor, her gift for banter, her clear affection for the characters, the richness of all the relationships. It was like showing up to a party and unexpectedly finding a friend there, and it was the loveliest feeling. I am thrilled that so many people have read and loved this story but I want everyone in the world to read and love it, so. Please check it out if you haven't! And also check out Sami's hilarious tale of woe regarding her writing process, which is amazing. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A PHENOMENAL GIFT SAMI. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A favorite line: On any other day, Brienne would have left him - a relative stranger - to his wallowing, but an untold amount of imbibed Pentoshi Slammers stirred up a noble benevolence within her, a little voice that said they had something in common and what good were her broad shoulders if they weren’t offered as a place to rest a weary, heartbroken brow? SO GOOD.

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Lay Your Heartbreak and the sequel You could make me feel so good by @ajoblotofjunk / sdwolfpup - LISTEN. SDW sent me an early chunk of this and I was immediately OBSESSED and I have not stopped being obsessed since. Obviously worldbuilding is a huge strength of SDW's and her creativity with that is a constant astonishment to me. But pop culture is full of examples of people who can create amazing worlds and then utterly fail to populate them with interesting or dynamic characters, whereas SDW's ability to fill in those wonderfully creative spaces with her love for the characters and their love for each other that is just magic. And these fics are the perfect examples of that. The setup is not only fascinating but makes for such fantastically INTENSE feelings, omg, everything just feels like it's crackling off the page; even before Jaime and Brienne and Addam are admitting anything to each other, it's not so much simmering under the surface as boiling. The balance between the three of them is gorgeous, there are two incredibly hot fencing scenes as well as a very hot swimming scene (in addition to the sequel being just one big tangle of brain-scorching hotness), there's a perfect amount of sweetness and softness to play off all the blazing heat, and overall this is one that's going to stick with me for a long time. I know J/A/B isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you aren't actively opposed to the idea of them, then I highly highly encourage you to check this out.

A favorite line: That night she dreams of golden skin, hot and soft against her palm – yes, someone moans, yes – the rough scrape of callouses over the arch of her ribs, the scratch of red stubble between her thighs – like this? Yes, more, please more – legs sliding together and between each other, and two mouths touching her all over. Hnnnnngh.

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The Limit Does Not Exist by @agirlnamedkeith / sameboots - Fics with a power imbalance are something I approach with a lot of caution but I LOVED the way that sameboots handled it here. The fact that this fic includes her signature extremely hot feelings-forward porn as well as a thoughtful exploration of what it can mean to be a woman in STEM is like a beautiful multi-course meal; I cared a LOT about whether they were gonna do it and I was also equally invested in how Brienne’s thesis was going to turn out and where she would go from there. I love Brienne’s stubbornness and determination and even though she’s finding her way here (as you would be, as a grad student), those elements are VERY much on display and they spark fantastically against an initially guarded and caustic but eventually deeply admiring Jaime. And while I don’t want to spoil anything, I will say that I feel like the end is a perfect illustration of one of the major themes of the fic, and I love it so much for that. Watching this one take shape and watching sameboots geek out over her math research was a delight, and the result is excellent (and did I mention, extremely hot). Definitely worth all her work!

A favorite line: “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst liar?” (KIDDING HANNAH ILU HERE’S THE REAL ONE:) The problem with smoothies was that it was hard to make them aggressively., Angrily pushing a button didn’t have the same release as whaling on a punching bag. Brienne didn’t have a punching bag, though, and she desperately needed to do something, and she was hungry. ANGRY SMOOTHING-MAKING. I LOVE IT.

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Right Off the Bat by @hillaryschu - A You’ve Got Mail AU where Jaime and Brienne are rival Little League coaches who unknowingly bond over Twitter is SUCH a great idea, and Hillary committed to it right down to the delightful rom-com-trailer summary. She also put an enormous amount of care into the details of the story--she had references for outfits, buildings, even Jaime’s cologne--and it shows in all the lush descriptions throughout. The banter is sparky, watching their two relationships gradually unfold is a lot of fun, there’s a particular tipsy (on Brienne’s part) Twitter DM exchange that I still get flustered thinking about, and there’s a batting cage scene that will be haunting my brain for a while. Especially given that Hillary had never written a story anywhere near this long before, I’m so impressed that she pulled it off (and fixed some of the most problematic elements of the movie, too). Congratulations to her on rising to the challenge!

A favorite line: But as they part from each other, Brienne lifts the hem of her tee to wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. Her exposed stomach is pale and toned, with softly defined muscles that gleam with perspiration. Jaime trips over home plate. SAME JAIME. SAME.

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X Marks the Spot (where I’ll find you again) by @pretty--thief - PIRATES. I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I HEARD ABOUT THE PIRATES. And this fic is such a fantastic blend of snappy, exciting swashbuckling (and hilarious use of parrots) and a very poignant backstory that underlays the adventure with all this yeeeeeearning and it’s SO GOOD. The action scenes are thrilling, the descriptions are gorgeous, there is STARGAZING and BATTLE COUPLE, the Jaime snark is chefkiss, Brienne is so brave and committed and quietly full of feelings, there’s a really lovely discussion of the ethics of being in the military, and also Pod and Addam and Arya and PIRATES FOR JUSTICE. SO HERE FOR THAT. And did I mention the yeeeeeearning (which is paid off wonderfully--the penultimate chapter lived rent-free in my mind for about a week after I first read it)? Ugh SO GOOD.

A favorite line: When he had exited his quarters, Brienne had looked at him with so much concern in her eyes it threatened to swallow Jaime whole. He’d felt something similar when he was around Cersei, when they were fucking or fighting; a fire he had once thought he could never tire of, would never want to put out. But Brienne had reached out her hand, as if on reflex, and smoothed her thumb across his tired brow. The ship had continued to sway beneath them, and Jaime didn’t feel fire. He didn’t feel like he would be turned to ash at any moment. He felt a breeze, the wind in his hair and salty air in his lungs. as;lfkja;sldjgas;lfjas;lf

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Federation Fliers by @elizadunc /Ladybugbear2 - A short and very sweet one! I adore the world that Megs created in this and would happily read many many more words in it, but this is a lovely glimpse in and of itself, and made me so happy. Established relationship (which I love), one of my favorite Jaime nicknames for Brienne, a wonderfully badass Brienne and a wonderfully besotted Jaime, all against a fascinating backdrop. So good!

A favorite line: She belonged in the sky. She had a grace to her movements on the ground, but in the sky she was ethereal. HEART-EYES

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And now for a few that I just read after they were posted like a normal person:

Wine Down by @slipsthrufingers - SOME MILD SPOILERS HEREIN FYI. Okay first of all, the summary of this fic is deliciously evil and I think we all need to appreciate that. Also, it starts out with Jaime and Brienne having lunch together and these glorious descriptions of food and he has taken note of the specific food she likes and is making sure it’s provided for her and that is SO VERY MUCH MY LOVE LANGUAGE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. I FLAILED. And then things go, shall we say, a bit downhill, but in the most achingly beautiful way--Jaime sacrificing himself for Brienne and Brienne determined to tether him to life through sheer force of will and steadfast devotion. Slips puts us right into Brienne’s headspace/heartspace while she’s worrying for Jaime and trying to negotiate the fucked-up Lannister family dynamics (and the observations on said dynamics are wonderful too), and this hits such an excellent balance of Brienne’s rigidly controlled surface and everything that’s roiling away underneath. I’m always fascinated by the idea of what could have happened during the time that Brienne was in King’s Landing and this is such a brilliant exploration of how things could have gone, and Brienne’s interactions with the rest of the Lannisters (and Sansa) give the world that much more depth as well. The descriptions throughout are beautiful, there are so many lovely turns of phrase, the intimacy between Jaime and Brienne is just devastating, and it all comes back around to an immensely satisfying conclusion. SO GOOD.

A favorite line: The gods had seen fit to give her an unwomanly body, so she had taken up the sword. They had given her an ugly face, so she had perfected her manners and courtesies so they could never be frowned upon. But they had given her a maiden’s heart, and try as she might she had never found the right weapon to protect it. MY PRECIOUS GIRL.

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A Matter of Honor by @nire-the-mithridatist - I shrieked at nire in DMs basically the whole time I was reading this story, it made me experience like 90% of the range of human emotions in one night and I’m still mad about it. This features a fascinatingly flipped script where Brienne is the wealthy one and Jaime the supplicant, and an arrogant-ass supplicant he is. Brienne is an angy baby nineteen-year-old who is furious at the entire world and I fucking adore her for it, and watching all the events unfold through the lens of her (generally well-founded) suspicions was a delicious sort of torture where I trusted NO ONE and genuinely did not know exactly what was going to happen next. Nire turns a lot of marriage fic tropes on their head in this and it’s all done brilliantly, and there is EXTREMELY SEXY SWORD-FIGHTING (and as a sexy bonus, Brienne’s perspective on it feels so perfect for someone who is truly an accomplished swordswoman), and nire uses some common elements throughout to just pack in these layers and layers of meaning and significance, and there are many turns of phrase so perfect that they hurt, and then she’s like “hey would you like to re-feel all the feelings in this story again in a very concentrated burst” and it’s SO MUCH, and the conclusion pays everything off amazingly. And even though it’s very swoony and romantic (and HOT. I SHOULD MENTION VERY HOT), there’s a hint of melancholy to it too, reckoning with what it means to be a woman--even a wealthy one--in Brienne’s world, and it’s just the perfect crunch of salt on top of all the sweetness. LOVE.

A favorite line: He brought her knuckles to his lips. As sweet as honeyed nettles, he declared, “Lady Brienne. You have made me the happiest of men.” As the crowd roared in approval, she felt the sting of his kiss. STING OF HIS KISS ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Also I’m including this for purely thirsty reasons but NO SHAME: He stood from the sofa and went to help his wife undress, and if she noticed his averted eyes and his trembling hands—oh gods, the laces went on endlessly down her back, and with each pull, a little more of her figure was revealed, barely veiled by her gauzy shift—she said nothing. I DIED. I ALSO SAID NOTHING BECAUSE I WAS DEAD. Fuck, man.

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The Riverlands Gang Go to the Zoo by @naomignome - Another shorter and very delightful one with Naomi’s typical brand of chaotic humor that I adore. It’s Hyle POV, for one thing, which is good times, and the structure of this is so clever--the way each section of the zoo is used to progress the story is so seamless and happy-making, and there are tons of little jokes and Easter eggs packed in along with a very sweet, snarky emotional storyline wherein Hyle is definitely doomed. Plus another EXCELLENT Brienne nickname in here. LOVELY.

A favorite line: “Pixel!” he said laughingly, “You know if you fell in the bear pit, I would jump after you without a second thought.” “You need to have a first thought in order to have a second one.” Brienne said dryly. SUCH A GOOD BURN.

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all these people think love’s for show (but i would die for you in secret) by @naomignome - This is SUCH A FLEX because not only did Naomi write TWO fics for her recipient but they are WILDLY DIFFERENT and I’m so impressed with her for doing it! This one is SPIEEEEESSSS and Naomi packs so much tension into 5K, I was on the edge of my seat through the whole thing. Canon events are woven in astonishingly well, and it’s a delicious enemies-to-partners-to-lovers situation that involves some excellent hurt/comfort and excellent use of RAIN to moody/sexy effect and it’s just all very thrilling. YUM.

A favorite line: He lets off a single bullet and it grazes the inside of her thigh, enough to make her wince and draw blood, but not enough to stop her from tackling him to the ground and wrestling him into submission. She’s got both of his wrists pinned above his head and her knee is drawn up and pressed against his torso. Jaime’s chest is heaving under her knee. Her chest is heaving in tandem. From above him, Brienne can see the green of his eyes darken, and even in submission, he’s annoyingly beautiful. Her blood is rushing, and it’s not all adrenaline. WHEW. SAME.

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as stars once a year brush the earth by @ylizam / mazily - Another wonderfully bite-sized one (good job actually taking the minimum word count as a guideline, people who did that, unlike the rest of us dumbasses!) that packs a lot into a small space. A canon-ish soulmates AU that’s so understated and dreamy, but with the echo of all the turmoil they’ve gone through to get to this place that brings everything in sharp relief. It’s also funny and sexy and romantic as fuck, and there are gorgeous poetic descriptions, and they spar by a WATERFALL, and just. So much happens in just over 1600 words! IMPRESSIVE.

A favorite line: Her right hand goes numb, unfeeling; back in their rooms Jaime is waking up, and she knows the phantom ache of his missing hand is bothering him. Jaime is waking, and yawning, the bed linens pooling around his waist and highlighting his summer tanned skin. She misses him, suddenly, as wide as the endless sea in front of her. BEAUTIFUL.

OKAY THIS WAS A LONG POST. That’s all I’ve got for now--more to come as I continue my reading!!

#jaime x brienne #jaime x brienne fic rec #jaime brienne fic exchange #braime #so many feelings in this post!!#so many talented writers in this fandom!!

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miscellaneousramblings · 3 years

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The world is cruel and unfair. My thoughts about the end of SnK.

This is a post about my feelings re: the end of SnK. I try to mix a bit of analysis and express where, in my opinion, it went wrong.

I’ve only read the last chapter once for now. Managed to avoid every spoiler until the official release. What can I say? I think this ending is disappointing and unsatisfying, despite not being The Worst Thing I’ve Ever Read. It’s serviceable at best, which by default is underwhelming in a work that has almost always tried to go above what we usually see in comparable pieces of fiction. Over almost 140 chapters, SnK offered its readers genuine emotions, either positive or negative, and, until this final chapter, managed to stay true to its themes. But this final chapter is basically a 4/10 or 5/10 ending in an overall 9.5/10 story.

I hope that, after the initial shock of the ending, I’ll be able to look back on it, not fondly, but with a bit more appreciation for some of its (too few) genuinely good moments. I also hope it won’t sour the experience of reading SnK too much for me. Of course, I accept the ending, I accepted it literally the moment I read it even though I saw it go further and further from my expectations and understanding of the story by the second. And obviously, I respect Isayama as a writer and genuinely cherish some parts of this manga.

But I won’t ever think this ending was good, and am going to try to explain why.

First, something quite subjective. I think the chapter lacked genuine emotion. I didn’t feel much of anything, except a crushing sentiment of sadness and a bit of anger when I saw Mikasa alone by Eren’s grave at the end. A lot of what happened felt either incomplete or forced, and often both. For example, I had imagined the moment the curse of Ymir broke would be the most beautiful moment in the manga, but instead it just... happened? This was supposed to be the peak of this story, the miracle that all these terrible sacrifices were made in the name of. I keep thinking about the moment the curse breaks at the end of Fruits Basket (a great read btw) and how genuinely emotional this chapter is even though the genre is different from SnK’s. Considering Isayama’s talent when portraying emotions, I can’t help but feel terribly underwhelmed by his version of this moment, which should have made us feel like everything was worth it, but didn’t.

Second, the pacing in this last arc (and especially post 123) was messy. I know it’s easy to criticize as a reader, but objectively, spending 7 chapters on the alliance going from point X to point Y and not giving the main character the spotlight he deserves is a major mistake. I kept holding hope that all of the buildup since chapter 130 was going to amount to the last 2-3 chapters slapping extremely hard (like, say, the Grisha-centered chapters in return to Shiganshina, or the Reiner-Eren conversation in Marley), but for the first time, Isayama disappointed me in that regard.

While mostly uninteresting fights got dragged out, some plot points were almost forgotten. Some setups never got a proper conclusion. Eren barely got the time to explain his motivations or what he saw. Historia’s conversation from chapter 130 never got an ending. The parasite and Ymir literally disappeared even though they were the focus of the last two chapters before this one. Some memory shards went unexplained. We never got to see Grisha’s death even when this panel exists?

Regardless of the actual things I don’t like in the ending, I think it would have been more palatable if this last stretch of chapters had been given time to breathe, if only to expand on the characters’ motivations or give us more interactions (for example, Eren’s talks with Annie, Reiner, Connie...).

Third, characterisation and themes. Oh boy. My favourite character is Eren, and my other favourites are Mikasa, Armin, Reiner and Zeke. I think that among these five, the only one who got a true, complete character arc was Armin (and arguably Zeke as well, though the lack of resolution between him and Eren is a hate crime towards me, specifically). Reiner had a great character arc overall but his last appearance in the manga was distateful and a regression. I won’t expand on it.

Mikasa... my poor girl. My most charitable take about her ending is that Isayama wanted to portray her inner strength, the fact she can always live on in the face of adversity and cherish her own life despite the setbacks while remembering those she loves. Well, I guess he succeeded. But in a weirdly unsatisfying way, because this renders her character arc entirely cyclical. Those qualities have characterised Mikasa since the start. It’s established since the very first arc that she’s prideful, brave, and that she has the inner strength to live without Eren if he ever disappears from this world. But the way Isayama made it happen? Having her kill him and then cry next to his grave in the final panels of the manga is what her arc amounted to? I had always hoped that Mikasa could actually save Eren from himself and show him how to live and share his burdens with him (all things that have been foreshadowed in the manga itself, btw). I thought her tattoo would hold some significance, either by

A/ being transmitted to her potential child with Eren were he to survive (didn’t happen)

B/ foreshadowing a future political role for her as a bridge between Hizuru and Paradis (didn’t happen, and furthermore she’s the only alliance member living in Shiganshina and is deliberately separated from the rest of them)

C/ having some kind of supernatural power that would allow her to change the game, were she to enter paths or reach the coordinate (didn’t happen).

So what? In the end, Mikasa’s Big Choice amounted to giving up on her love (but also not really because she’s never going to be able to move on and isn’t allowed to feel anything else but pain), resulting in her losing her family for the third time and never being able to welcome Eren home. This is horrifyingly sad. I’m also frankly disturbed by the sort of ~parallel Eren establishes in this chapter between Ymir and Mikasa, about the topic of love. So the message of SnK was that... love is a chain? Everything happened because Ymir was too attached to the King and couldn’t leave this world, so Mikasa had to show her that she could give up on love for the greater good by killing Eren? I wish I just misunderstood this but that’s what I got from the chapter and I hate it. Also, I really thought Isayama was above the traditional “female character who sacrifices everything and never reaches happiness but stays quiet and endures for the common good” trope. I was wrong.

Mikasa might have been the centerpiece of the story, but she got the short end of the stick. At this point, the writing pretty much does the opposite of what it is supposed to by inadvertently justifying the validity of Mikasa and Eren’s “selfish” dream in chapter 138. Initially, I thought that their dream was wrong and not something truly enviable because in it, they led a life of guilt and regret while knowing full well that Eren would end up dying anyway, leaving Mikasa behind, alone. Naively, I thought that surely choosing the responsible path would be more rewarding for Mikasa, one way or the other. But as it turns out, the path of selflessness also led her to a life of solitude, except now she carries her burdens all on her own without having tasted happiness. Amazing. I genuinely do not know how I am supposed to root for this.

Finally... Eren. Oh boy. Oh, good lord. I’ll admit I wanted him to live, but I was also ready to accept an ending where he dies. But... not like this. I already said I don’t like the fact Mikasa killed him, but what I like even less is the lack of general resolution his character received. He’s the MC for god’s sake! But post-chapter 123, he has received second, if not third-grade treatment, save from chapter 131, which was brilliant.

Overall, his motivations are a mess, which I get. Him getting confused because of all his powers and memories is understandable. Him having conflicting motivations is actually appealing to me. He wanted to save Eldia, but was also disappointed in the outside world (when he says “I would have done it anyway”, I thought about what he said to Ramzi and the "scenery” in 131) , and wished for his friends to become heroes. I get it, it’s fine.

But Isayama went too far with the tragic aspect of his character. As in, there is no catharsis, just crushing pain. Isayama deliberately went overkill by stating that Eren killed 80% of humanity (what the hell), and, even worse, actually drove Dina to Carla. I literally couldn’t believe this. I have seen people theorize about this months ago and immediately discarded it by thinking it was ridiculous and amount to character assassination. To make things clear, I’m not discussing Eren’s actions in the last arc from a moralistic point of view, because this would be another topic entirely, I’m talking about what makes sense in the narrative that has been presented to us since the Paths chapters started and Eren’s plan was revealed. For example, however awful the contents of the scene was, Eren manipulating Grisha to kill the Reiss family was not only amazingly written and drawn in chapter 121 but also narratively motivated by the fact he needed the Founding Titan’s power. This scene also had other functions, such as revealing the Attack Titan’s premonition powers or making Zeke interact with Grisha and understand the truth about his father. Compared to this, the “moment” we have in 139, this abrupt, absurd revelation about him indirectly killing his mother is rushed and nonsensical. Even if this was to kickstart the whole story by awakening his hatred for the titans, I can’t help but feel shaken by how... gratuitous a “plot-twist” it is. What does it say about the attachment Eren had to his mother and her words to him? (”because he was born into this world”). This nullifies one of the most impactful scenes of the manga, because the ending makes it clear that in the end, existing as a human being by the simple virtue of being born wasn’t enough for him. It just couldn’t be, for some reason that I’m yet to fully understand. Instead, he endured and endured, and never got to experience the simple, humane existence Carla wished for him. So were these beautiful words a lie all along? Why did Isayama go to such an extreme with Dina? The only conclusion I can come to is that it’s because he needed Eren to be absolutely, totally irredeemeable. Eren needed, storywise, to be this unstoppable extremist who would get burned to ashes by his uncontrollable desires.

Because yes, apparently, Eren had to die. There was no escape. Worst of all, Eren died a slave. A slave to his desire for freedom. A slave to the destiny he saw at age 15. A slave to his titan powers. This is what I truly can’t forgive about this ending. I won’t stand for the “but he chose this” answer, because it was a choice made out of despair, and all the alternatives are presented as non viable by the narrative (are they really though? or is it just a cope-out to justify the last arc of the manga unfolding as it did?). In short, Isayama justifies this “choice” that was forced on Eren by telling us: his life was destined to be short, he had a violent side he just wouldn’t repress, Mikasa didn’t give him the answer he wanted, he was overwhelmed by what he saw, and their enemies were zeroing in on them. Canonically, all of this made him start the Rumbling. Fine. But I always thought that, at the end of it all, even if Eren were to die, this narrative would be challenged. That Eren would at least have a big cathartic moment, and that he would make another choice upon realising that the freedom he looked for was illusory, and that he would fight to the bitter end for what was right, what he truly wanted, before finally either going to rest or living on with the burden of his actions but the support of his loved ones. I wished for the perfect blend of bitterness and hope. The tragedy of irredeemeable actions completed by the powerful liberation of free will. The idea that change is possible.

But what did we get instead? Eren reaffirming that the Rumbling would have happened anyway while feeling tremendous guilt, as usual (living a life with regrets, and consequently, a death with regrets), refusing the support Armin was ready to lend him (refusing to even try to defy what he thinks is his destiny and pushing others away again) and erasing the memories of all his friends after having manipulated them into ending him against their wishes (going against the most basic concept of freedom). And because we as readers and he as a character have to suffer until the very end, Eren finally clearly expressed his wish to live, to stay with Mikasa and his friends. Only to die 5 pages later, for good.

The main character of this story truly died as a disembodied head, in a titan’s mouth, killed by the person he loved the most before being buried in a nameless grave. One of his mottos was “fight”, but in the end, he didn’t. He let fate happen. In a story about freedom, this is unfathomable. This is beyond the realm of sadness for me, and I’m leaning more and more towards indignation. Where was his dignity as a character? I know that Mikasa, Armin and the others know “the truth about him” but I’m sorry, this isn’t enough. Now, if I ever get the strength to re-read SnK, I won’t be able to look at Eren without thinking about all the things he sacrificed: love, friendship, happiness, humanity, morals, principles, justice, freedom, the lives of countless others, the peace of mind of the person he loves, and his own life. A sacrifice so great should have gotten us a reward as great, if not greater. But we only got the end of the titan curse, without even an apparition or a word from Ymir, the one who actually started all of this, and now Paradis is ruled by the Yeagerists or something. The wings of freedom defaced by two rifles. How great. How satisfying.

In the end, I can’t really fathom what Isayama wanted to say with this chapter. The story itself, the 138 chapters that preceded it seemed clear to me. The world is cruel but also very beautiful. But after having read 139, I don’t know where the freedom the characters chased is. I don’t know why love was portrayed as something so precious but also something that in the end was predestined to be discarded. I don’t know why characters such as Mikasa went against fate only to be crushed by it further down the road.

I never thought that SnK would go into this almost grimdark direction, but it did. I can barely find the beauty in this chapter. Mikasa’s last panels are heartbreaking, but even the strength of her love can’t shine through the countless sacrifices the characters - and especially she and Eren - made, for the sake of a future that already seems extremely compromised. I guess that all in all, the world’s cruelty overshadows everything, and those who make the greatest sacrifices also are those who never get repaid. The world is unfair. I know that, but it was my naive wish that reading a piece of fiction would help me take my mind off this reality by showing me there is also more to it.

PS: the best moment in the chapter was those panels:

Finally, even if it was too little and too late, someone showed Eren he wasn’t alone, and didn’t need to be. RIP, my beautiful boy. You truly did deserve better than what this story allowed you to be.

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callme-chaos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Princess - A DSMP ff

Niki caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a ballroom window. The chandelier lights made her typically very pale skin look golden and her pastel purple dress glittered like a galaxy. The material looked beautiful (she’d have to thank Eret later) but it didn’t half scratch her skin. And the tightly pinned bun in her hair was already giving her a headache. The bodice of the dress restricted her movement quite a lot – which was not ideal if she needed a quick get-away but at least the poofy skirt hid what it needed to.

Niki knew she looked like a princess but it was difficult to relish the moment when she didn’t /feel/ like a princess. People listened to princesses, people noticed princesses. Niki might have effectively not existed at all beyond slaving away in the bakery. She wondered if some people thought fairies made the bread at night and left it all on the bakery counters for people to collect in the morning.

But Niki was no fairy. She worked hard and for little thanks. But tonight that would change. Tonight she’d take the first brave steps towards making a better life for herself and all that she loved.

“Niki?” another taller, handsome figure appeared in the window’s reflection. Niki whipped around, “Will?” Niki tried to steady her breathing; now was her chance.

Wilbur Soot smiled softly. “I’m glad you could make it,” his eyes shone in the low ballroom lighting. He looked very princely in his L’Manberg revolutionary get-up. “I’m glad I could run into you,” Niki started speaking. Her words were falling out of her mouth at 100mph with sudden nerves. “I need to talk to you.”

“Of course we can talk. But can I have this dance first?” he held out his hand for Niki to take.

The music slowed to a ballad. /Perhaps I can have a private conversation with him on the dancefloor,/ Niki thought. She curtseyed and smiled politely. “I’d love to.”

She took Wilbur’s hand and he led her over to the centre of the floor. People were already swirling together to the music and watching them made Niki feel a little dizzy. So she kept her eyes trained on Wilbur as he placed a hand at her waist. He was still smiling softly.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he spun them both around the floor. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dressed up before.”

“I wanted people to notice me,” Niki replied.

“Well, you certainly have my attention.”

Niki’s feet were starting to feel sore (she knew these shoes had been a bad idea) but she felt a sense of relief when Will said that. Now was her opportunity. “Will, can I ask you something?”

Wilbur’s eyebrows dipped in concern, “Is something wrong?”

Niki took a deep breath. “Yes, actually. Me, my friends, our land – we’re all dirt poor. We all slaved away for the Manberg government and we have yet to see any major changes even with your rebellion against Schlatt. We want a voice, Will.”

Wilbur looked stumped. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I want a rank amongst your revolutionaries.”

Wilbur’s face changed from shock to confusion to amusement in the span of a few seconds before he chuckled. “No.”

Niki felt like he had punched her in the gut. “Why not?”

“Niki, you are sweet and kind and pure-of-heart and all that good stuff. You clearly care about people – arguably too much. That’s why I can’t let you join us. I won’t be responsible for twisting that up.”

It was like a slap in the face. So many things were wrong with that sentiment.

“Kindness isn’t weakness, Will,” Niki said. Her voice was barely above a whisper but her tone contained enough venom to poison an army.

The ballad was sounding its finishing flourishes and Wilbur let go of Niki’s waist, bowing deeply. “Navy blue isn’t your colour anyways. Stick to pastel purple,” he said and left, leaving a stunned Niki alone on the dancefloor.

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible, taloned hand. She felt tears prick the backs of her eyes but she refused to let them slide down her cheeks under the light of the chandelier. The sights, sounds and smells of the ballroom hit her all at once and the opulence made her want to throw up. She needed to find an exit. Quickly.

She ran as fast as the stuffy dress and pinching shoes allowed her, pushing through a pair of gilded-gold doors and onto a deserted courtyard. She sat on a bench, grabbing the shoes off her feet and lobbing them at the ballroom windows. Still, nobody on the inside batted an eyelid.

Niki ripped her hair from its bun so it fell limp around her shoulders. Once again, she had been brushed aside like dust on a far-away shelf. She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle a sob as the tears finally trailed down the sides of her face.

What did she do now?

Something heavy and woody creaked in the wind above her and she looked up. A canopy of dark green leaves blotted out the stars and sky. Niki stood: it was the L’Mantree.

Which gave Niki an idea: “If they won’t listen to me, they’ll just have to watch instead.”

Niki tore off the stupid purple dress revealing her own revolutionary suit beneath, as well as a sword strapped to her leg. Tossing the dress to the ground and unsheathing the sword, Niki hurled her bodyweight at the tree. She swung her arms wildly at the trunk as she hacked away at the bark. She pictured Wilbur’s pained expression as she took a piece of his history down with her and grinned manically through the tears.

After a while, Niki stopped. She turned back to the ballroom windows expecting to see panicked faces but she was being upstaged by a refill at the punch table. With a frustrated yell, Niki threw her sword at the ground.

When she looked back at the L’Mantree, Niki saw that her brute strength had barely made a dent on the trunk. Gritting her teeth, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter.

Niki’s glassy gaze flitted from the lighter to the tree. There would be nothing left of it once she was through. Was she really going to do this?

She looked back at the waltzing mob of people on the ballroom floor. Wilbur had said she was kind, that she cared too much. He wasn’t wrong; she would do anything for the people she loved. And that meant no more tyrants.

Picking up the purple dress, she hung it across the tree like a flag. Niki placed a final kiss on the trunk and tossed her lighter at the dress’ skirt.

“Sorry L’Manberg, but I’m not your princess.”

Whatever material the dress was made out of, it was incredibly flammable. Instantly, it was entirely engulfed in flames. Each tongue licked and spat, steadily rising to envelop the tree. The crackling drowned out the music and sweat was already collecting on Niki’s forehead and she faced the fire. Smoke billowed out from each leaf and painted the night sky a dark, stormy grey. The red and orange flames challenged the golden light of the chandelier inside for dominance and the flames won.

It was all so devastatingly beautiful.

But Niki’s initial attack on the tree must have done a lot more damage than she had originally thought as the weakened trunk began to collapse.

And it was going to go crashing straight into the ballroom.

Niki tensed but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. She would just have to let the heat from the inferno dry her tears instead.

The tree drove straight through the building, bringing a section of the roof down with it. The meretricious decorations were swiftly incinerated and the music melted into screams. The guests all screeched and cried and coughed and spluttered as their dresses caught fire and the smoke invaded their lungs. The punch table collapsed and finally - /finally/ - people turned and saw the girl who stood outside, watching as their heartless, indulgent world descended into a freshly scored Hell.

But Niki didn’t take any pleasure in it. It was only what was necessary. She swiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and lifted her chin.

“Now tell me Navy blue isn’t my colour.”

#niki #nihachu #wilbur #wilbur soot #ball #fire #dream smp #revolution #l'manberg #l'manburg #l'mantree #purple dress #arson pog #techno would be proud

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lulusoblue · 3 years

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this isn’t me vagueing or anything, or I’m not intending to because people have previously expressed the same of what I’m about to rant on, and I don’t want to @ or refer to any blog specifically for reigniting my bafflement of this take because this isn’t a personal grudge match against anyone, just a general *what* of this concept, but

jesus h christ on a stick, why do people want BioShock Infinite’s Elizabeth to have been a racist?

I get an AU fic of another timeline where Comstock’s motives weren’t messy as fuck and he didn’t just plan to force his messiah with a spinal shock collar from the word go, like “what if” stuff, but like saying she should have been racist in the original game and actually wanting this change because it would “improve” her character?

like, disclaimer because I am a white woman who may not have a say in things like this anyway, but honestly the racism angle was a huge mistake in Infinite in the first place, and should never have been done in this game because the lead writer is a white man and I can bet my bottom dollar he most likely did not consult anyone on race or racism beyond what historically accurate heinous racist acts to not depict in the game so players could “sympathise” with the flying racists getting their dues post-Finkton.

You know how important the racism of Columbia is to him? How relevant is it to the ending of the game? Answer: it isn’t. BioShock 1’s ending has the failings of Rapture relevant to the ending regarding the player’s choices. The ending of Infinite, however, focuses on Elizabeth, Booker and the multiverse, where nobody mentions the Vox or how Columbia was a failure or anything. Nothing with the Vox Populi or Columbia’s hubris is linked to the game’s ending. Both are left feeling superfluous. It was just something to stick into the background rather than be a story element that properly tied in with the story’s real focus. If you wanted Levine to write a better racism story I would have to ask you why??? Do you trust him to?????

What reason was there that we switched from extreme nationalism and its consequences in the demos as late as 2012 to “racism bad but the victims of it are also bad if they fight back” in 2013? Who fucking knows. Probably shock value, because I don’t see how time and resources would cause such a change from what Irrational put out there in interviews leading up to release. Given how Levine tried to retcon Daisy’s story in Burial at Sea (and keep in mind Black Lives Matter didn’t start as a movement until a few months after Infinite’s release and before BaS Episode 2 was released) he certainly didn’t commit to “Daisy and Comstock are the same”. If he had conviction for his “both sides” story, he wouldn’t have tried to rewrite it to Daisy choosing to play monster as a necessary sacrifice for her cause (which itself is its own can of worms with how it now plays out).

Considering as well how we had that article revealing how long it took to get a playable build out of Irrational thanks to Levine’s lack of solid direction, as well as the recent revelation that he had never read Ayn Rand when making a game about a city BUILT ON HER IDEOLOGY, I’m pretty sure the poor writing around Columbia’s racism and the Vox Populi in the final game was just made up as he went along to push out a finished product, because it had been five years at that point and 2k was piiiiiiissed.

Then we have how Elizabeth is your companion character, your escort mission. Friends, do you know how escort mission characters were viewed back pre-2013? Bad. The AI could just look at a player funny and they’d draw a 5 page comic on how awful a character they were and post it to deviantart. One of the worst levels in BioShock was when we had to escort a very killable Little Sister with a fishbowl filter on our FOV, and one of the major complaints people had with BioShock 2 was how they had an OPTIONAL escort mission to get more mutation juice. We didn’t start getting games with escort characters like Elizabeth or Clementine or Ellie, characters people actually cared about and WANTED to protect, until around 2012-2013.

You think the people creating Elizabeth, the escort mission character built to be a likeable, enjoyable to be with and empathise with her character, who can never get hurt or kidnapped in combat and actively helps the player, should have had her been a racist??? In a post-Mass Effect world??????

Ashley Williams is a woman from a military family. She is a proud member of the Alliance military who has concerns on working with aliens after having had no prior experience working with aliens. However, you can ease those concerns and help her warm up to building alliances in the first Mass Effect game. Ashley grows to trust alien squadmates, and even without your character’s influence will regard two anti-alien groups with disgust for their outright racism and human centrism.

And here’s the kicker, even with that nuance to her character, in a game of plenty of other more overtly racist and prejudiced characters? ASHLEY IS STILL THE BUTT OF THE SPACE RACISM JOKES. She had flaws, she developed, she proves her loyalties to the point of refusing to work with you when you’re forced to join one of the human centric groups, AND SHE’S STILL MOCKED FOR SPACE RACISM. EVEN IN PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL SHE’S RETROACTIVELY REGARDED AS BEING DIFFICULT TO WORK WITH. THAT IS HOW MUCH THE FANDOM AROUND MASS EFFECT HAS AFFECTED HOW ASHLEY IS SEEN.

And you want Infinite to have Elizabeth be very obviously racist with real life racism? (which is the vibe i’ve been getting) Like, you think all the people behind Elizabeth’s design, her game functionality, her interactions and personality, would give players ammunition to hate a character you’re supposed to enjoy having around on purpose? You think they’re going to give the actual racists and bigots and nazis of the internet a mascot????? Because we already had the facebook header image debacle for a Columbian propaganda poster, you KNOW they would.

And personally I don’t think it would make great character development, because the game is not in the format for that kind of exploration of character’s story. BioShock Infinite is not an RPG with you making dialogue choices with squadmates where you feel like you really influenced them to see the error of their ways. Infinite is a linear shooter. There is no real sense of the passage of time in a linear shooter, the player will experience it like it really doesn’t happen in the span of 20 hours.

Unlearning racism and religious brainwashing is not a quick fixit, and a quick fixit is how it would feel in the 20-40 hours you take to play through the entire game. If Infinite had had Elizabeth going from “I’m racist” to “*sees a black person suffering* maybe racism is wrong???” to “i am no longer racist, I see the error of my ways, you can like me now” in the span of what feels like less than a day to players in a linear game, people would be super critical of the pretty white girl getting cured of her bigotry way too quickly and how the game makes it like we’re supposed to applaud her for being so brave and mature and open-minded, and how much Levine really doesn’t understand nuance or anything about how internalised racism works.

BioShock Infinite’s final release proved that the Vox Populi should not have been handled the way they were. Yes, more media should be discussing and making audiences aware of what is racist, and how irrational it really is when you get down to it, but BioShock Infinite should not have been that media. It was originally written for two opposing sides in a city built on extreme nationalism, much like how BioShock was for objectivism, and then changed relatively last minute. It was written by a white man who’d already written the franchise’s only gay named character as a horrific monster of a man (Cohen) and has expressed how autism is what made a person evil (Tenenbaum). It was written with Elizabeth in mind, a main character who was literally designed to be an escort mission players would actually enjoy, most likely from Day 1 given how much behind the scenes stuff we know of her.

I wouldn’t trust someone like Levine to write a story of a character unlearning racism over the course of a game’s story, i don’t think he should ever have touched a story where racism is a such a prominent element with a 100 foot pole.

#in which i rant #bioshock #bioshock infinite #elizabeth comstock

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 8: The Sorting Hat

"Finally!"

Sirius didn't even care he'd fallen onto the Slytherin table and in a bowl of someone's midday soup. He rolled right off and burst with excitement at finally being back in the Great Hall.

Though it took him a moment to realize it wasn't the one they would have left. Stars were covering the high ceiling, forming constellations he could have pointed out if he'd wanted. The plates were decked out with their gold of a start of term feast, and the banners hung above each house table like they did for the first years to know why someone was cheering for them. He had not, in fact, rolled through minestrone, but freshly melted ice cream as if the Great Hall had just been left and all the students fresh at term were off to their dormitories. It was honestly a miracle the food hadn't vanished as it usually did when the events were done.

Without any actual hope, Evans went to the doors and tried to pull them open, though none had ever even seen them closed, so they weren't particularly surprised by this point when they couldn't get out. Never before had so few people been in here, and even Sirius walking across to the Gryffindor table echoed like nothing he'd ever noticed before. Even back in Diagon Alley without the usual shoppers wasn't such a sight if you went early mornings like he had at times, this still felt far more unfamiliar than his home of the past five years ever had.

"Well I don't know about you lot," Remus took a seat next to Sirius and pulled a bowl of pudding towards him, "but I'm starving."

The other four still couldn't help but hover awkwardly, even Frank who had been down in the Great Hall first for breakfast some mornings had never claimed a table for his house without first glancing up and seeing not only the headmaster but at least a majority of the staff while he did.

He followed Alice gratefully, but she chose to sit with her back to the Gryffindor boys at her house table instead and so Frank sat awkwardly beside her, still glancing around as if expecting Professors Sprout or Flitwick to call one of them out for this.

Lily graciously sat across from them, a bit uncomfortable herself for not only being at the wrong table but also still not sure exactly how much she could be following them around without feeling like a lost puppy. She gave Regulus a sympathetic look as he continued hovering at the head of the tables and then to the farthest end of the room where so often the Slytherin's sat.

Sirius noticed again, but this time took pity on his brother and waved him over, saying, "come on then, no point sitting over there when those three aren't bothering with such nonsense." Needlessly gesturing over his shoulder to prove his point.

"I don't need your pity," Regulus grumbled under his breath, but it was so quiet in here they all heard as he went to the farthest table anyways.

Sirius huffed and muttered, "that's what I get for trying to be nice."

"Sirius, you've still got a bit of mint on your bum," Remus nodded to the green stain on the seat of his trousers simply for the change of topic he told himself.

"What you looking for?" Sirius demanded with a pleased little smirk, neither breaking eye contact even as James clucked his tongue but kept shoveling trifle down, despite having to use his left hand considering his right was still smarting too much to hold a spoon, and Peter muttered at the two to get a room.

"Here Evans," Alice passed Lily the book more to get past yet another awkward moment than anything.

"So what house do you think Harry'll be in?" James asked eagerly when she read out the chapter title, all of them glancing up as if the stool and hat would magically appear.

"Gryffindor," his three friends said at once.

Lily scoffed heavily but tried to ignore them, but Frank couldn't help turning in his seat and eyeing them while asking, "and if he's not?"

"But he will be," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I'll actually enjoy it now if he ends up in Hufflepuff," Alice said with a frown at them. "See the look on you lots faces when you realize there are other houses besides your own winning the Cup now and again."

"Bet that Granger girl will be Ravenclaw," Peter muttered when she was yet again mentioning some reference from a book.

"I take offense to that," Frank turned back away even as he continued speaking to them. "Not everyone from this house has to be the smartest person in the room."

"Says the guy correcting us," Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily tried reading just a little bit louder to cut them all off, wishing she could skip right to the part of the sorting already considering she didn't find it amusing what Ron's brothers had played on him, though Peter couldn't help glancing across the hall and seeing Regulus making a face at Sirius' back and instantly knew his friend had tried to convince his little brother of much the same.

Finally it came time it was that little Hermione's turn, and Lily couldn't help smirking the second the Marauders made little disappointed huffs at being wrong.

"Ah well, win some you lose some," James smirked over at Lily's surprised face, she'd been expecting a much more vivid reaction.

"You thought I was going to be a Slytherin until I proved you wrong," Sirius reminded with a smirk.

"Couldn't be more pleased to be wrong," James nodded in agreement, still trying to catch her eye though she'd looked away almost instantly, but that was twice in...well since this had started so he considered that progress.

Lily stuttered in surprise when she'd kept going for a bit, looking at Alice and Frank with a calculating look.

"What's the matter Evans?" Alice held her hand out expectantly. "Neville's last name hard to pronounce? I'll give it a shot."

"Oh it's not that," she assured before reading the sentence proper.

Frank froze in surprise and gave his girlfriend a sideways look like he wanted to apologize to her for something, but after her initial shock and a bit of stammering she composed herself and looked steadily at Lily while saying, "well, as I said before, this is quite a future we're hearing about, doesn't have to mean much though."

Lily laughed a bit in surprise to Alice sticking to that, and so didn't notice the couple taking hands under the table and exchanging glowing looks at the news they may well one day have their own child! They'd only been going out for a year after all, and at seventeen it seemed ludicrous at best this happening, but for the first time this had started the two felt they had something to actually be paying attention to.

The two listened with honest curiosity, and laughed in surprise at the house Neville went into. "I wonder what he and the hat were chatting over to take so long on that," Frank said with honest curiosity.

"He doesn't seem the type to have asked for Gryffindor," James said with his head to the side.

"What's that?" Alice asked in surprise.

"All four of us asked to go into Gryffindor," Sirius shrugged like that was obvious. "That's how you get into this house, be brave enough to put your opinion to the hat first day."

"I asked to go into Slytherin," Lily corrected with a challenging brow at them. "So why didn't it listen to me?"

James' mouth did pop open in surprise at that, but Remus was looking at her curiously. "Well I guess we were a bit off then, clearly asking for any house gets you put in here."

"Wonder which house Neville was actually asking for then," Frank finished with with what had started this with no actual answer.

James shushed him and everyone, eyes focused on Evans as she kept going, and it wasn't his usual doe eyed look.

Finally it was Harry's turn, and Lily couldn't deny she was curious, having never heard another person's time under the hat before.

It didn't start off very memorable, but that changed quickly.

"Slytherin?" James yelped as if genuinely hurt. "A Potter, in Slytherin!"

"Shut up Prongs," Remus happily rolled his eyes at him. "You just got done laughing that of course Malfoy was put there a second ago because of his family, I thought you'd enjoy your brood breaking tradition."

"Not this one!" James protested.

"You're such an arse Potter, what do the houses mean anyways except to group us so the teachers have a bit more of a handle. Why they didn't just do it by grade and assign each teacher a year I'll never know-" Alice tried to say, but was ignored by him still going.

Lily slammed the book hard enough to stop him though. "If you don't shut up I'll make your discomfort in that cupboard laughable! See how you like being squashed in my shoe for all your nonsense."

James backed down at once, muttering he was only joking.

"Not your brightest move Prongs," Sirius told him in a conversational tone of voice. "Considering she'd just told you she'd asked to be in that house."

"Can't I be surprised that hat tried to put some kid of mine in another house?" He huffed.

Peter at least made a sympathetic face, but was ignored as the others until Harry was finally sorted to where they were.

"There you have it then, kids going to grow up with as fat a head as that idiot with all of this," Lily muttered, honestly just as disappointed as Potter was pleased Harry had fought so hard against being in Slytherin.

"Don't be so harsh and judgmental Evans," Alice couldn't help but rebuke just a bit. "That thing said he didn't even notice getting the loudest applause."

Ron's sorting at least was to no one's surprise, but the news of the chapter wasn't done shocking them yet.

"This kid really does get all sorts of interesting things happening around him," Frank couldn't seem to stop pointing this out, but honestly Lily couldn't blame him. Six years at this school and they'd never had a forbidden corridor, yet starting this year Harry had one. None of them needed to look over and see the others opinion on this, because none of them needed to think for more than a second if those rule breakers would be poking their nose into that place, and their not very whispered conversation about it wasn't doing much to discount this idea.

"I'm guessing it's not normal for scars to start stabbing you in the forehead," Peter said in surprise, attention dragged right back to the story even before they'd run out of ideas of why Dumbledore had blocked off an unused part of the school for something.

"Forget that, I'm still stuck on the description of that bloke," Sirius had his eyes narrowed shrewdly while Remus was fidgeting uneasily at his side for the same reason.

Peter huffed and tried to keep James attention on the subject, but admittedly lost the fight himself when Evans confirmed a name.

"Snape? A teacher at this school! I'm going faint," Prongs declared, admittedly rather pale underneath the glasses.

"Poor Harry's going to be murdered when he first steps into class," Sirius agreed, already crossing himself and saying a prayer to that kids funeral.

Lily hardly heard them, looking far more happy and certainly invested in this for the first time. She couldn't believe her luck! If she couldn't have her best friend with her through this mess, at least she could see his future! This was going to be brilliant, and no matter what Harry saw in those looks that surely were being exaggerated, she was actually going along eagerly now just to know more about this!

When Regulus stabbed his custard with far more force than the spoon needed, Peter finally decided he'd waited long enough and left his seat.

"Oi, Wormtail, where you going?" Sirius asked in surprise as Peter swung himself free of the bench, but he waved them off, ignoring their question by answering it when he sat down next to Regulus.

"Round the bend he's gotten lately," James muttered to the two left. "You noticed him acting weird lately Moony?"

"Err, no," Remus admitted honestly, but he'd been rather ignoring a lot of his surroundings the past few weeks.

"Well he has," James said like he'd agreed anyways.

"Now he's gone to chat with my brother of all people, yeah Prongs, you're not wrong," Sirius wasn't being subtle about watching over his shoulder to see why.

"It's err, good your friends made up," Regulus gestured vaguely over his shoulder where he'd seen Lupin and his brother were chuckling while James was making faces.

"You've no idea," Peter agreed with a smile. "James has been going stir crazy and Remus won't admit how miserable he's been."

"And you?" Regulus asked when he seemed done there.

"What about me?" Peter asked in surprise.

Regulus just shrugged, unsure how else to put into words he was simply surprised Peter hadn't included how he'd felt.

"Oh," he seemed to get it anyway. "Err, the quiet's actually been a lot more awkward than I would have thought. Moony's been a bit mopey, can't say I blame him with what Sirius pulled, and so I've been hanging around James but of course-" he stopped, then suddenly flushed a bit and did a double take like he'd just realized who he was talking to.

"What exactly did Sirius pull?" Regulus asked to fill in the silence. "Whole school's noticed obviously."

"I'm, not supposed to say," Peter said all in a rush now, looking relieved he clearly hadn't said too much. "Big thing with Dumbledore, anybody who chats about it will actually be expelled, and not just one of McGonagall's detentions until the end of times thing."

Regulus shrugged without much care and turned back away. Snape had said something similar when anyone asked him.

Peter shook himself when he realized he'd been distracted from his reason coming over here. "Know where we're headed next?"

"Not a dickey bird," Regulus shrugged with disinterest, knowing that stupid question couldn't be the reason he'd been singled out, none of them had a clue after all.

"Neither do I," Peter agreed, "but wherever it is, you think I could get your help with something?"

"Me?" Regulus scoffed. "You've got three mates over there, what-"

Peter quickly explained, watching with enjoyment at first the surprise, then amusement that passed over him, only just finishing at the same time as Evans and suddenly far more distracted by the world being spun around him to notice if he'd agreed or not.

#Fanfiction #Harry Potter #James Potter #Marauders #Lily Evans #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Remus Lupin #Wolfstar

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

Not Joyce or Monet

PART THIRTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussions of parent death/death in general, smoking, drinking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Jess publishes his second book and Ella receives a troubling call from Stars Hollow.

Flopping face-first down onto the bed, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It would have felt strange not to have a little champagne at Jess’s book launch party. But, she was a lightweight. She was floating somewhere between tipsy, buzzed, and drunk. At least she was still capable of slipping off her shoes before making her way to the bedroom. She’d even managed to change into pajamas, brush her teeth, and wash her face. A far cry from the screwdriver incident at Liz’s baby shower. A heavy winter snow fell outside the windows and a touch of cold air seeped into the draughty apartment. Goosebumps rose lightly on her skin. In her state, they felt nice instead of uncomfortable. She was already dozing when Jess came in, having taken a quick shower. His hair was still damp as he climbed into bed next to her, the movement shaking her from her haze.

“Did you like your party?” she murmured, watching as he shut off the lamp and rolled over to face her.

His face was aglow with the bluish light of the snowy Saturday evening. “Mhm.”

She snickered a bit at his nonchalance. “I know you hate parties, but Chris insisted it was the best way to drum up business. And you do like surprises, Mr. Spontaneity. Matthew and I made it as lowkey as we could.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Eleanor. Really,” he said, shrugging. “You’re remembering that you whispered lines from Catch-22 in my ear all night, right?”

“I figured you’d need some Joseph Heller to make it through,” she explained, slightly sheepish.

Jess smiled. “Of course. And watching Chris and Leo get so drunk they do their acapella version of ‘Under Pressure’ could never be bad.”

“Leo does do a damn good Freddie Mercury,” Ella agreed, chuckling. “I didn’t realize the publishing agents would all go blackout level, too.”

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve seen what Chris did for the Subsect launch. It was like that scene where E.T. gets drunk. But if there were fifty aliens in the movie instead of just one,” Jess said flatly, begrudgingly.

“You must be a little drunk if you’re letting a cheesy eighties movie slip. Or have I finally converted you?” she teased, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

Jess smirked. “Not yet. Chris made me try his Manhattans to see if they ‘tasted too much like gasoline.’”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they did,” Ella said.

“Someone give the lady a prize,” Jess shot back tiredly. “Good thing we walked there.”

“Yeah. And good thing I got to watch you catch a snowflake with your tongue on the way back.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cutie,” she said, forcing her laughter down. “I’ll be eating my words when you watch me fall on my ass while we’re ice-skating with April.”

She knew if he’d been entirely sober, he wouldn’t have gotten so caught up in his wonderment at the storm. But Ella had also seen him sticking out his tongue awaiting a snowflake in an old, yellowing photo album Liz had shown off during her baby shower. In it, Jess had been no more than three. Dressed in a raggedy winter jacket on some grimy corner of New York City. He and Liz were sticking their tongues out together. Seeing the photo had given Ella’s mouth a bittersweet taste. It was hard to imagine Jess ever feeling so relaxed around his mother. She saw the same rare awe from him on the walk home. Most of the time, he was so weighed down by the world he could barely come up for air. She thought she had never seen him look so young at heart before.

“Can’t wait,” Jess hummed, mocking. It was nearly time for April’s winter break, and Anna had somehow agreed to let her spend it with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory. Ella and Jess had opted to return to Stars Hollow for Christmas, after the bumps in the road on Thanksgiving. Two more days, and they’d be braving the icy roads on their way up to Connecticut. April had already called them to schedule a time for ice-skating. The proper, analytical way the little girl spoke never failed to amuse Ella.

“Me neither,” Ella quipped as her eyelids began to droop again. She could smell the minty scent of Jess’s shampoo.

As he watched her begin to drift off, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. From what Matthew had said, Ella had essentially been put in charge of the party when Chris’s trademark irresponsibility made an appearance. Matthew had jury duty and couldn’t assume his usual role of organizer in the wake of Chris’s chaotic decision-making. What she’d managed to throw together, though, was one of the better parties Jess had ever been to. The publishers they knew usually sent younger employees to the underground press launches, and Chris had ended up making friends with most of the usual suspects at the launch for Jess’s first book. Ella had made sure the guest list only included familiar faces. If they just had to throw him a surprise party, which Chris demanded (normally, she wouldn’t have listened, but if it was a matter of getting his book better exposure, she was willing to risk it), she’d try to make it as comfortable for him as possible. Or, at the very least, bearable.

And she’d just gotten done with finals two days earlier. He could see how tired she was. Her nerves over the possibility of seeing her father during the winter holidays hadn’t helped her sleeping recently either. Though Jess wasn’t sure how it would actually pan out, she claimed she wanted an attempt at apologizing for what she’d said at Adam’s graduation. She was sick of family nonsense, she said. Maybe if she levelled the playing field, they could begin to understand each other again. Ella herself wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked her desire to try again with her family, but suspected it might have been Thanksgiving. Jess, simply put, was someone she admired. Seeing him trying to mend his relationships (even though he didn’t have to, even though it was difficult), made her feel just a little more confident. Maybe not everything turned out bad, after all.

Shutting his own eyes, Jess slipped his hand beneath Ella’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her back. She smiled softly at his touch, feather-light. A pleasant shiver rolled through her.

“Thank you for the party,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, thanks for writing my new favorite book,” she answered instantly, sleepy and sincere. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

. . .

There were still a couple hours left until lunchtime when Ella slipped through the door at Truncheon, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to show up and work a little. Especially when she was on break from school and got antsy. Jess had debated giving her the easel he’d bought her for Christmas early, so she would have something new to focus on while he tied up the odds and ends at the book press. But, ultimately, he wanted to wait until the morning after they returned to Philadelphia. It would be far more surprising to wake up and find a Christmas present wrapped up in the living room on the morning of New Year’s Day than on the actual gift-giving holiday.

When he’d left for his last day of work prior to their trip to Connecticut, she’d still been half asleep. Her sketchbook was open on her bedside table, a pencil drawing of a child with hollow eyes having yet to be shaded. She’d been up late working on it the night before, on a roll. He hadn’t even shut the door to the apartment before she was out cold again. He’d been anxious to get back home, to pack and prepare for the trip. In his opinion, there was no use in only opening for a Monday and then closing for the holidays the rest of the week, but Matthew’s stickler spirit won out. Jess wasn’t going to be skipping around the store in merriment as the rest of the world took a vacation, but he also wasn’t moping around like Chris. He was in the midst of diffusing an argument between his two coworkers when Ella arrived.

He wanted to smile when he saw her, and almost did. But then he got a good look at her hazel eyes, and immediately he could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that she was sleepy, though she looked a bit haggard in with her peacoat tied around her haphazardly and her hair wild, dotted with the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Instead, she looked almost unreachable. His Eleanor who was always so present and vivid and alive, even in the midst of drudgery. And she wasn’t daydreaming, either. She wasn’t off in her own thoughts, thinking of Emily Dickinson or James Joyce or Claude Monet. No; she was simply not there. Not really.

“Hey, honey. You’re early,” he began as she approached him, where he stood in between Matthew and Chris. The two of them didn’t even notice she’d come in until Jess addressed her, still too caught up in their argument over where to place the new books of free-form poetry.

Swallowing harshly, Ella gave a weak smile and raked her fingers through her hair. She walked up to them, wringing her hands together. Jess didn’t need to see her hands to know she had already bitten her nails down to the quick. At the interruption, Chris gave a frustrated huff and turned to Ella.

“Ella, please tell Matthew it makes zero sense to put the free-form poetry anywhere near the sonnets! They should be on opposite ends of the store, as far as I’m concerned,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

Matthew rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenched. “I’m glad you’re here, Ella. Please tell Chris that we don’t only sell poetry, and free-form or not, it has no business anywhere near science fiction!”

Furrowing her brows, distracted, Ella shook her head. “Um...I don’t know...but I….”

“What?” Jess asked as she gestured slightly with her hands. Her face was pale, and she almost seemed confused, at a loss for words. It didn’t happen to her often, to say the least.

Blowing out a breath, she tried again, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment...I just got a call from my brother. My dad’s dead.”

Jess’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ella said, nodding. As she continued, she took a hair elastic from her wrist and began pulling her locks into a ponytail. “Adam said he was in a car accident this morning. Driving home from some bar in Maryland. If I had to guess, he was still a little drunk from last night. No one else got hurt, which is good. He hit a patch of black ice, and he was going too fast, and I guess he just went right off the road. Into a tree. And he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

Her speech became more urgent with every word, as they heard it sink in for her in real time. But she was never frantic, only determined and stern. The spacey fog was fading from her demeanor, though it remained in her eyes. Only in her eyes. She didn’t give them time to respond, just kept thinking out loud.

“Noah’s already on a plane from Oregon, but I don’t think he’s gonna be any help. And Adam said Fiona’s freaking out, so I’m almost definitely going to have to make the arrangements. I know you guys have work and stuff, but we need to pack up and get there before the rest of the family does, or everything will probably just explode on principle. Fuck! This is just like him. To die a week before Christmas!”

“Whoa, hey, Eleanor, just slow down for a second, okay?” Jess began, taking a hesitant step towards her and grabbing her hand. He squeezed once, hard, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

“Jesus, Ella-” Chris began.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said.

Ella shook her head, her face stoic. “Don’t, okay? Don’t be sorry. No one needs to be sorry. He was a fucking drunk, and it finally caught up with him. I just need to get back to Stars Hollow to take care of this, and then maybe Christmas won’t be completely ruined. Sound good?”

“Elle, just hold on. You should sit down and-” Jess said, but she cut him off.

“No, Jess. Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and then it’ll be done,” she said, her hand never leaving his though she didn’t squeeze back. Her tone was tight, clipped, but she didn’t sound angry. He recognized it from the night on the bridge when she’d told him about the days following her mother’s death. The way she held it all together, and blocked it all out. Numb and headstrong.

“Do you want us to come with?” Matthew asked, watching with uncertainty as Ella began to tug Jess towards the door, grabbing his bag for him and handing him his coat.

“What? Of course not,” Ella said, insistent, as though it were obvious. “All I need to do is steal Jess for a few days. You need to do whatever it is you’re gonna do with Mabel. And Chris needs to do whatever it is he’s gonna do with Leo, and you need to tell me about it when we get back. I can pretty much guarantee your stories will be more fun than mine.”

“Are you sure?” Chris chimed in, brow heavy with worry. Her iciness surprised him. He had never heard someone react to a parent’s death quite so flippantly before.

“Yes. Jesus, Chris, keep up,” she replied, in a way which would have spurred a playful argument on a normal day. Again, her nonchalance unnerved all three of them.

Jess interlocked their fingers again instantly once he had his bag and his coat, almost heading out the door already. She was moving too fast for him to process much of anything, only reacting. He hadn’t seen her in such a frenzy in a very long time. “Eleanor, wait. Stop.”

“I can’t stop, Jess. I told you, we’ve gotta get there before my uncle has time to hit on Fiona and before Noah has time to piss off Adam. It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pulled him out the front door instead. As they went, she shouted over her shoulder to Matthew and Chris: “Happy holidays! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then, she and Jess were gone. Chris and Matthew exchanged concerned, flabbergasted glances.

. . .

Flashback was the word that came to the forefront of her mind, as she stared up at the ceiling in the Gilmore living room. Luke and Lorelai were trying, and she appreciated it. They could both tell she didn’t want to talk about it, only wanted a bit of normalcy after the long day. And they’d obliged. After all, they’d had practice. Lorelai knew exactly what to do. She’d had Luke bring dinner home from the diner: turkey sandwiches and sodas. She’d suggested they watch a movie after dinner, something campy horror. Finally, they had settled on The Lost Boys. Ella knew how much Jess hated the movie, especially Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet, but he never complained once. A large part of her wished he would. She wanted it to be the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to have Christmas in Stars Hollow with the people who felt more like her family than her father did. Adam celebrating with one of his school friends in Boston, Fiona with her sister, Noah with his finacée in Oregon. But, of course, things never went as planned. Not in Ella’s experience at least.

At some point during the movie, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. No matter how much she wanted to stay awake until the end, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Dealing with Fiona’s blubbering and Adam’s silence and Noah’s anger had pretty well exhausted her. Not to mention the business setting up the funeral at the church. She’d spent nearly two hours with the pastor, but the service was only halfway planned. She wished Aunt Julie could arrive sooner, but the girls were in school until Tuesday. Erin had some big recital she was pitching a fit about missing. Ella couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be. No, they would arrive on Wednesday morning. Two hours before the funeral, set for noon. At some point before then, Ella would have to sort out the flower arrangements and the music and the programs. At least Luke was providing the food. She assumed he would before he even offered. And she would have to write the eulogy. But she wasn’t even thinking about it yet. Every time the idea of writing it entered her mind, she would start humming a Stevie Nicks song and pointedly ignore it.

It was all too familiar. The planning, the writing, the consoling. Since they’d arrived in Stars Hollow that afternoon, it had been a non stop barrage of tasks and tears. None of it was surprising. And it almost made her want to laugh. The minute she heard that her mother was dead, she had burst out laughing, a nervous reaction she couldn’t control. Granted, the laughter came from deep inside her, and probably resembled a pained shriek more than an actual giggle. But it was laughter nonetheless, and her father had recognized it as such. He’d yelled at her until his voice became hoarse. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. He was the dead one now, after all. But still, she didn’t let the anxious laughter escape. She didn’t let anything escape. After the punishment she’d received for letting go last time, she knew not to do it again. No one was there to smack her, to scream, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget how it had felt. Like she couldn’t even grieve right. And the best way to grieve became to not grieve at all.

She laid with one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, analyzing the popcorn ceiling. She’d awoken with the room dim and the TV shut off. A quilt which she hadn’t fallen asleep under was draped over her, and there were hushed whispers in the direction of the kitchen. She hadn’t planned to wake up until morning, but she hadn’t planned to fall asleep there either. They were supposed to be sleeping in the apartment above the diner for the vacation, while Rory and April took the spare beds in the Gilmore house. But neither girl had yet to arrive, and Lorelai insisted Ella and Jess stay over after dinner. It was no use driving over in the snow, even if Luke’s was only about a minute away. Ella couldn’t believe how similar it all was to before. Sleeping alone on the Gilmore couch as others worried over her a few feet away.

She listened, in spite of herself. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop when she’d already heard her name so many times. Luke was concerned about her forgetting to eat. Lorelai was concerned about her shutting everyone out and being overwhelmed by the funeral preparations. And both of them were concerned about her coming to blows with Fiona at some point in the next few days.

Sighing, Ella ran her tongue over her teeth and remembered she hadn’t brushed them. She debated not doing so, but decided to just bite the bullet. With everything else on her mind, she thought it best to eliminate all the outward elements which might impede her from getting back to sleep. She rolled over on her side, preparing to sit up, when she saw Jess. She thought he’d be in the kitchen, talking with Luke and Lorelai. Instead, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. His head was near hers, leaned back. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring. She doubted he was fully asleep, but nonetheless attempted to get past him and rummage through the bag on the armchair to find her toothbrush. Her stealth proved lacking, however, when he began to stir as soon as she reached the bag.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and doing his best to seem lively. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, fishing her toothbrush out from the sea of clothes she’d thrown into the duffel before they sped away from the apartment in Philadelphia. “I just forgot to brush my teeth.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and hoisting himself up. His neck was already sore from the position he’d dozed off in, unwilling to follow Luke and Lorelai into the kitchen with Ella asleep on the couch. “Me too. I’ll come with.”

She nodded back, grabbing his toothbrush as well. The whispers didn’t cease until they made their way into the kitchen, Luke and Lorelai looking up at their entrance. Ella debated using the upstairs bathroom, not disturbing the two of them. But she didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs, and it would be the first time she could get a good look at the new half-bathroom they added next to Rory’s room. The smell of the diner food lingered, and it made Ella’s chest feel just a touch less tight. Lorelai broke out into a small smile at the sight of the two of them.

“You need anything, sweetie?” she asked, speaking only to Ella.

Though she felt a bit uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze, Ella smiled back. There was a warmth in her stomach at Lorelai’s voice. She focused on that feeling, and only that feeling. “No, we’re fine. Just brushing our teeth. The dentist would be pissed at me if I broke the pattern after over twenty years.”

“That’s true. Always best to avoid the Sweeney Todd dentistry possibility,” Lorelai agreed, nodding. Then, she yawned theatrically and looked at Luke, who only rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “I think we’re gonna head upstairs. It’s past our bedtime.”

“Still got those four o’clock deliveries, huh?” Jess asked sullenly, eyeing Luke. Many a morning when he was a teenager, he’d been awoken at half past three by the sound of Luke’s alarm.

Luke sighed. “For the business that housed and fed you for two years? Yeah, I do.”

Ella snorted a laugh, and nudged Jess playfully in the ribs. “Like you’re not always up before the sun, even on Saturday.”

“Where do you think that started?” Jess shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke. “He screwed with my internal clock for life!”

“I think that’s enough fuel for future therapy sessions for tonight,” Lorelai announced, rising from the table, Luke following.

“Agreed,” Luke grumbled.

As they exchanged goodnights, Lorelai gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. Immediately after, she scrunched up her nose and smudged the lipstick from Ella’s freckled skin with her thumb. To Ella’s shock, Lorelai also gave Jess a short hug before making for the stairs. Luke hugged Jess, too. The two of them still had trouble showing physical affection for each other, as they probably always would. Ella had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness between them.

When Luke hugged Ella, though, she felt tears prick at her eyes for the first time all day. She recognized his familiar smell, the soft feeling of his flannel, his strong arms around her. Somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that the way it felt for Luke to hug her was what she had always wanted it to feel like when her own father hugged her. And she knew for sure she would never get it from him. She could finally be certain there was nothing left to do to repair her relationship with him. There was no time left for Jake to make her feel as safe as Luke made her feel. As he never had, even in her childhood. But by the time she and Luke broke apart, she had gathered herself enough. She cleared her throat and blinked away the glassy sheen in her eyes.

Luke ruffled her hair as he stepped back from her. If he saw that she was upset, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.”

“I know, boss,” she replied.

. . .

The cigarette smoke made her a bit nauseous, but it was also comforting in a way she was slightly ashamed of. The winter air was crisp and biting, and her cheeks were frosted roses. Embers glowed orange in the darkness as she took a long drag, burning her lungs. She was already regretting it, but she simply felt too tired to think out the actual consequences of what she was doing. She had tried. She really had. But falling asleep, with Jess snoring softly beneath her as they lay on the couch, was absolutely impossible. Fatigue was weighing down her bones, and there was a perpetual ache throbbing behind her eyes. But each time she got close to sleep, the thought of her father would flash across her mind, and she would be wide awake once more.

Once she gave up, she had managed to sneak outside unnoticed. The wind whispered past her, hollow and haunting. But maybe everything was feeling spookier because death was at the forefront of her mind. Then again, when wasn’t it? Though the shock had certainly hit her with full force when she heard the news, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. The other shoe had dropped. She knew it would, just when she let her guard down. The moment she forgot to worry, the universe had knocked her down again. She flicked her cigarette and watched the excess ash melt a small spot in the snow below the steps.

At the sound of the front door creaking open, she startled only a little. For a wild moment, she wanted to put her cigarette out and hide it behind her back, pretending to be innocent. Especially if it was Luke. But she had to remember she was a grown up. And the feeling disappeared entirely when she saw only a disheveled Jess wrapping himself up in his jacket as he came out onto the porch and sat down next to her.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he remarked, holding her peacoat out to her.

She took it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly, breathing out a long stream of smoke as she spoke. The coat was old and cheap, and did little to help a Connecticut winter, but she shrugged it on anyway.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t mention it.”

They sat in silence, an owl hooting somewhere in the trees beyond the house. Ella didn’t put the cigarette out until it got so small it began to burn her fingers. After she’d discarded it, her breath still puffed out, along with Jess’s, in frigid white clouds. Flurries of snow fell in scattered sprays, but the night was mostly quiet and overcast. Jess crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She spoke, as he knew she eventually would, after a few more minutes. Gesturing down to the crushed cigarette, her tired eyes met his. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “Where’d you get those in the middle of the night in Stars Hollow, anyway?”

A thin smirk ghosted over her lips. “Snatched ‘em off Bootsy’s newsstand.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing slightly, with eyebrows raised.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Mariano. I was sneaking out of my bedroom window long before you got here.”

“Touché.” His eyes lingered on her, hair glistening golden in the soft light and eyes still far off somewhere miles away. He hesitated before he continued. “Did you walk all the way to Bootsy’s without a coat?”

She shrugged, glancing down at the Doc Martens on her feet. “I’m fine. I had my good shoes on. Besides, it’s only like a minute away.”

“Alright.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’m fine,” she snapped after a moment.

“Okay. I get it,” he said instantly. “You’re fine. You’re not cold.”

Ella ran her hands through her hair. Her body shook as she yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Jess! Stop trying to take care of me! Stop asking me questions! Just let me fucking sit here!” Ella exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

Jess recoiled slightly, and he nodded at her again. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed down the million other questions which were rising in his throat. The ones she’d refused to ask on the drive up, and the ones she apparently still wanted to avoid. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to. We could watch one of Lorelai’s cassettes in there,” Jess suggested, fighting hard to keep his tone light, bracing for whatever reaction she was going to have.

“I love that she still has cassettes,” Ella said wistfully, though not smiling. Her voice was low and raspy as she stared out ahead of her into the darkness and the lightly falling snow.

He nodded a little. “I know you do.”

Ella’s hands were itching to hold another cigarette, but she fought the urge. The pack which sat on the porch steps next to her would almost certainly be crumpled up and thrown in the trash the moment she reentered the house. Along with the lighter. But it was nice to have them there. If she wanted. They sat wordlessly, listening to the rustle of the wind in the evergreen trees. Jess didn’t make a sound. He was just far away enough not to touch her, almost in silent askance of whether she wanted space. She did. And she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to talk almost as much as she didn’t want to write the eulogy. She wanted to be able to push down the sorrow and the rage until they just dissolved and she was as happy as she had been just a day earlier. Yesterday, she may have even been hopeful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt hopeful about her family. But, now, she had to stop herself from reaching for a cigarette yet again. And she felt herself wanting a drink. A drink stronger than champagne at a book launch. And then the words started flowing before she could overthink them, before she could lock them away in her heart forever.

She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap at her nail-bitten hands. “This is just like it was the last time.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, shifting a bit closer to her.

“Yeah,” she echoed, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear. She sniffed. “I mean, last time my dad was the devastated one instead of Fiona. But Adam still got pissed at Noah, and Noah only got more pissed because Adam was mad at him.”

Noah had only made it to town an hour before Ella left to go back to the Gilmore residence for the night, but he and Adam were at each other’s throats pretty much as soon as they saw each other. Upset that his Christmas vacation was being disrupted, Noah had insisted on staying at a motel instead of at the little blue house in which they had grown up. Adam wasn’t happy about it, accusing Noah of acting as though he was too good for them. In turn, Noah asked Adam why he wasn’t mad at Ella for staying with Lorelai. Adam had shot back immediately, saying Noah had abandoned the entire family the minute he could, while Ella stayed behind. At that point, Ella knew there was no way to diffuse the situation. She’d only offered to walk back with Noah to the motel, leaving Adam to sleep in his old room. Luckily, Fiona’s sister was already in town for the holiday. So, it didn’t wholly fall to any of the three of them to console her.

Jess and Luke had both offered to go over to the house with her after helping with the arrangements, but she’d insisted on meeting her brothers there alone. The surreality of the moment didn’t dawn on her until she saw Adam’s teary eyes and Noah’s flushed face. It was like she had stepped into the past. She’d come back to the Gilmore house to find Jess sitting in the living room, halfway through the Russian novel he’d brought with. In the face of his questions, she’d only given him the liner notes and then fallen mostly silent for the rest of the evening.

“And Lorelai and Luke won’t let me brush my teeth without asking me if I need anything,” Ella continued, with a scoff in her words. “And, I love them. I do. And I’m so fucking grateful that it hurts. But, I’m fine. I’m totally fucking fine.”

“So I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” he said.

She laughed breathily, lifting her head to look up at the sky. “Shut up.”

“Will do.”

Then, after a moment: “I just wish...I wish it wasn’t like this. I mean, he was a shitty dad. But he was still my dad.”

He watched as she chose her words, carefully. Her voice had more emotion than he’d heard all day. Bringing his arm around her shoulders, he hoped to lessen the trembling of her hands just a little. She leaned into him, letting herself feel his warmth but fighting the wateriness in her voice. Of all the things she didn’t want to do, crying was at the top of the list.

“And now...I don’t have parents. I don’t even have a dad who hates me and never calls,” she continued.

“He didn’t hate you,” Jess interjected.

She shook her head. “Yeah, he did, Jess. He fucking hated me. Because I looked like my mom and I didn’t like Fiona and I wouldn’t quit talking back at the dinner table. But it doesn’t bother me. I hated him most of the time, too.”

He hummed in response, listening.

Her face crumpled for only a moment. But, again, she regained her composure. A couple silent tears threatened to slip over. “But at least I had someone to hate, y’know? Now, it’s just...no one.”

She took in a shaky breath, and Jess began to rub circles over her back. He recognized that her shivering was no longer due to the cold but from the sobs she wouldn’t let loose. Ella’s stomach did a flip, as she clenched her hands into fists. But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let a single wimper pass her lips. And then, the levee broke. She put her head in her hands and finally began to weep, cries from deep within her escaping at last.

“I just...I don’t have p-parents anymore,” she spoke through sobs, trying to get her voice under control but failing miserably. “I’m not anyone’s daughter anymore. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

Jess shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a crack in his heart as he heard her anguish. But a part of him was relieved she was finally letting it out. He knew not all of her tears were for her father, but for her mother as well. He’d never seen her cry so hard before, so hard she couldn’t catch her breath and she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped being able to talk after a while, only crying, folding in on herself.

“I...I don’t...belong to anyone anymore,” she repeated.

Gnawing on his bottom lip again, Jess smoothed an affectionate hand over her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Though he couldn’t see her face, Ella felt her cheeks heat up at his seeing her sob so openly. Jess spoke in a clear, strong tone.

“Listen, Eleanor, I know it feels like you’re alone without them, but that’s not true, okay?” he said.

She let out a tearful scoff.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m serious,” Jess continued, placing a hand on her damp cheek and turning her face gently so she would look at him.

She wanted to avoid his eyes, embarrassed, but simply couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. The sight of him almost made her physically relax.

An earnest crease stood out between his eyebrows when he spoke again. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

She stared at him for a moment, stunned at his words, as tears kept rolling steadily down her cheeks. But then, her lip began to quiver and she closed her eyes. Jess was worried she was about to get angry again. But instead, she slumped weakly against him. He could feel her tears begin to wet the neckline of his t-shirt as she rested her head on his chest. Breathing out long and slow, Jess wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know whether his words had helped, but he was doubtful. No amount of talking was going to make her feel any better. He couldn’t crack a joke or start a playful argument or do a magic trick. He could only be there. He simply sat and held her against the wind.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls oc #jess mariano #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano oc fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano x original character #oc fanfiction #luke danes #lorelai gilmore

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jungshookz · 5 years

Note

hi cee !! i just thought of how cute coach!jungkook would be where he trains little kids and one day y/n drops off her little brother at practice and sees this cute new coach and is suddenly volunteering to bring snacks for the next game lol

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: if it isn’t obvious by now this is 110% fLUFF, y/n is an obnoxious older sister but we love her, banana milk and animal crackers for everyone!!!!

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ note: hi i want coach!jungkook to hurl a soccer ball at me thanks

(gif isn’t mine!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“alright, twerp.” you crank the brakes before punching the unlock button on the dashboard “get outta my car.”

you push your sunglasses up to the top of your head before turning to look at lucas in the back seat and raising a brow

…

why is he not moving

“…mommy always walks me to the field.”

oh dear lord

you have places to be and people to sEE

more specifically you have to pick yoongi up at his apartment because you guys are going to watch that new spiderman movie together and you typically like to get there early so that you have more time to decide what you’re going to do in terms of snacks

“well, mommy didn’t drop you off today. sissy did.”

okay quick note: maybe don’T address yourself as sissy ever again

“-big boys walk themselves to the field.” you point out before glancing over at said field “y’know, lu, the world is a big, scary soccer field that you’re going to have to face alone one day…” you sigh and shake your head playfully as you yank the keys out of the ignition

of course you’re going to walk him to the field

you just like messing with him

“-you might as well get a head start now.” you unbuckle your seatbelt before opening the door

“…maybe next year, when i turn 6.” lucas mutters and kicks his legs against the seat

you can’t help but snort at his comment before shutting the door

your parents insist that lucas was planned but let’s be real

he’s more of a… happy accident!

the boy is sixteen years younger than you

he’s 5!

you’re 21!

a sixteen year age gap is never intentIONAL

nevertheless you still love him more than you love yourself

he’s a sweet boy!!!

he actually never went through the whole terrible twos phase and for that you are grateful because you’re pretty sure 18 year old y/n would’ve willingly flung him out the window in a heartbeat

and you know for a fact that he worships you

well

alright

not reaLLy

but he’s a good little brother and you’re a good older sister and you’re just glad that the two of you get along

you just like acting like he’s a little stiNker all the time because it’s fun seeing him get worked up

>:-)

“by the way, don’t tell mom i didn’t put your car seat in my car.” you help lucas out of the car before reaching in to grab his bag for him

you were going to be a responsible older sibling and put his car seat in for him but there were so many things to click and clack and lock and pop and honEstly you just didn’t have the energy to put it in your car so you just buckled him in and made sure to drive a little less recklessly

also you didn’t see the point in installing it in your car since this is going to be the only time you’re ever going to drop him off at his soccer practice session

your mom usually drops him off because duh

she’s m o m

but she had an emergency meeting at work and your dad is on a business trip for the entire week which means that yoU have to take care of him for the afternoon

which is fine!

except you made plans with yoongi, as mentioned earlier

which means you need to get this show on the road if you’re going to get back on the road to get to the show

“okay, as long as you don’t tell mom i threw my grapes away.”

“wha- you threw your grapes away?!” you gawk at lucas as you shove your keys into your pocket “are you kidding me? you could’ve given them to me! those grapes were organic, too! they were the goOD juicy grapes!”

lucas smiles sheepishly before shrugging

goD

kids these days

throwing away their damn juicy organic non-gmo grapes

what a waste!

“what time am i supposed to come and pick you up again?”

“6:30” lucas hums in response as he swings his hand with yours

the movie is set to end at 7

…how mad would your mom be with you if you made lucas wait an extra half hour in the dark for you?

u know what

it’s a risk you’re going to have to be willing to take

you are SO brave

not all heroes wear capes

“any preferences for dinner? mom won’t be home til late so it’s just the two of us.” you glance down at him as the two of you approach the field

there are already a bunch of other kids there with their parents

usually the parents just sit on the side and watch

and you would totally stay and watch but like…

spiderman > watching a group of sweaty 5 year olds running around and tripping over themselves

“mcdonalds!” lucas grins excitedly

he likes it when you’re in charge of dinner because it actually means that he’s in charge of dinner and he aLways likes it when he gets to choose what to eat for dinner

one time he asked for spaghetti tacos and you just gave him spaghetti tacos with no complaint

it’s amazing!

you’re a pushover for him and he knoWs it

“alrighty. but i’m getting the apple slices for you instead of the fries because you threw your grapes out.”

lucas immediately deflates

u win some u lose some

“okay, bud. i’ll see you at 7!” you chirp before dropping to your knees to give lucas a goodbye hug

“6:30” lucas corrects you smartly and you resist the urge to roll your eyes

uRgh

you don’t want to miss the ending of spiderman!!!!!!! what if you miss something mAjor that links to the next spiderman movie?!

whaTEver you’ll just watch it again when it eventually gets on netflix

anyways

back to business

one huGE perk of being an older sibling is the fact that you get to embarrass your younger siblings any time and anywhere

it’s your given right!

you’ve earned it

…and this is one of those times

“oH i’m going to miss my lulu so much-“ you’re practically suffocating lucas considering how tightly you’re squeezing him and you can’t help but giggle as you squish sloppy kisses to his chubby cheek

you don’t want him to ever grow up because you lovE kissing his cheeks

they were exTra chubby when he was younger

he’s starting to lose some baby fat :’(

lucas whines and starts to shove at your chest “stop it, my friends are watching!!!”

“well they’re just jealous because they don’t have an older sister as cool as-“ you immediately cut yourself off because-

holy SHIT

who the friG is thAT

it’s almost as if time itself slows down when you’re suddenly made aware of this very beautiful human being

warm brown eyes that you can already envision yourself drowning in

a bright bunny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth

honey caramel brown hair peeking out from underneath a plain black cap

two small, silver hoops hanging from his ears

he’s wearing a plain black hoodie paired with a pair of plain black shorts but somehow he’s making it look like he just walked straIght off a paris fashion week runway

he has that boyish quality about him that’s making you weak in your knees

and to top it all off

he’s great with kids

your ovaries are quaking

he laughs and throws his head back before giving one of the boys a fist bump and getting back up on his knees

is it weird that you think his thighs are hot?

…yeah that’s a little weird

get it together

you pull away from lucas before resting back on your heels

you reach out to grasp onto his shoulders to make it seem like you’re having a serious conversation with him because let’s face it this is a very serious conversation

“lu. i’m going to ask you a question, and i want you to answer me honestly.” you look him dead in the eye

“…wha-“

“don’t make it obvious, but… is that your coach?” your eyes flicker over his shoulder and lucas whIPS around to look at where you’re looking

okay

way to make it nOt obvious

“mhm! that’s coach jungkook.”

huh

coach jungkook

that has a nice ring to it

he looks to be around your age which is vEry appealing

working man with a stable job

…you’re into it

lucas is obviously blissfully unaware of the way you’re practically drooling over his coach because the next thing you know- “hi coach!!!!!!” lucas waves wildly and starts bouncing up and down excitedly when coach jungkook glances towards your guys’ general direction

you immediately get up off the ground and reach down to dust your knees off

you should’ve worn something cuter had you known lucas’ coach was going to look like that

“hey, buddy!” jungkook leans down to ruffle lucas’ hair when he rushes over to hug his knees “you ready for a fun session?”

you feel your heart skip a beat when he looks up at you and offers you a friendly smile

o god

“hi! i’m jungkook.” he sticks his hand out for you to shake and oH sweet lord even his hands are pretty

“hi…!” you clear your throat and shake his hand briefly “i’m y/n, i’m… uh, i’m lucas’ sister. older sister.”

okay

you’re not sure why you had to throw in that last detail

you’re obviously his older sister you waLNUT

“ah, that makes sense. usually lucas comes with your guys’ mom, so i was just curious… are you going to stay and watch? there’s plenty of space to sit…” he gestures over to where the parents are and you’re about this close to texting yoongi and cancelling your guys’ plans together

spiderman

“she can’t!” lucas blurts out “-she’s watching spiderman with yoongi!”

uh oh

lucas is blowing your chances with coach jungkook right in front of ur eyES

“yoongi- riGht, yeah, i’m watching spiderman with- lu, why don’t you go and warm up with your friends, hm?” you nudge him a little and he nods before ziPPing right off to join his pals

a beat of silence goes by

“yoongi’s my friend. just my friend.” you clear your throat again before glancing at your watch

“good to know…!” jungkook trails off and purses his lips slightly

okay

this interaction is going downhill vEry fast

“i… should probably go if i’m going to get to the movies on time but thank you for the invitation to stay!” you chuckle lightly and jungkook nods in acknowledgement “i’ll see you later? when i come to pick lucas up? it was nice meeting you…?”

you are a hoT mess

you’re all over the place

why are you phrasing everything as a question?

what’s wrong with you?

you complete moron?

jungkook can’t help but watch as you jog back to your car

lucas never mentioned an older sister

a very pretty older sister, as a matter of fact

of course, lucas doesn’t really mention anything besides a) soccer, b) snacks, and c) power rangers

interesting

very interesting

“how come you’re driving me to practice again?” lucas’ brows knit together in confusion as he looks at you through the front mirror

needless to say he was very much confused when you came to pick him up from school… again

the act of you picking him up from school isn’t weird but usually you only pick him up maybe once every two months

but this is your sixth time picking him up this month

so yeah

it’s a liiiiiittle weird

“because i wanted to give mom… another day off!” you smile brightly and turn on your signal before smoothly swerving to the right and heading down the familiar path to the field

“oh.” lucas nods and slumps back down in his car seat

about five seconds go by before he speaks up again

“how come you have so many drinks and crackers back here?”

your eyes flicker up to the front mirror again and you see him leaning over to look into the huge tote bag sitting next to him

“you know, lu…” you sigh and shake your head “-as your generous, thoughtful, veRy caring older sister, i just want to make sure you have enough energy for practice which is why i took it upon myself to provide nourishment for you and your little friends!”

“…what’s a noorushmint-”

“-just out of curiosity-“ you veer right into your usual parking spot before cranking the brakes

you turn to look at lucas over your shoulder “has coach jungkook… said anything about me?”

“i- oOH banana milk!!!!!!” lucas grins excitedly and pulls one carton out of your bag

here’s the thing

as mentioned earlier this is your sixth time picking lucas up from school and driving him to practice

that means that this is your sixth time seeing jungkook

and each time, he somehow becomes more and more attractive which mEans that you progressively get more and more nervous and awkward-flirty with him each time you see him

every time he looks at you you get all weak in the knees and your palms get sweaty and you end up regurgitating some lame joke about soccer

every time he laughs at your lame jokes about soccer you feel your heart skip a beAt

and you’re obsessed with how attractive he looks when he’s focused on something

he does this thing where he pokes his tongue into his cheek and it just-

oOh it just gets to you

“hey, twerp-“ lucas glances back at you as the two of you start trekking down the grassy hill to get to the field “don’t tell your friends that you already drank a banana milk in the car otherwise they’re going think that i’m playing favourites which i guess i kinda am buT-“

“y/n!” you immediately freeze when you hear jungkook call your name and you neaRly trip over your feet in surprise “-let me help you with that!”

you swallow thickly before offering jungkook a bright smile “hey! oh, that’s so nice of you…” he takes the two tote bags from you eaSily

what the heck

you were out of breath just picking them up and he’s acting as if they’re as light as feathers

you feel your mouth go dry when you catch a glimpse of his biceps flexing

the lord is testing you toDay

“hi coach!” lucas greets enthusiastically

jungkook grins down at lucas before wiggling his brows “someone’s certainly very energetic today-“

“y/n gave me an extra banana milk and i drank it all in thirty seconds!!!!!”

well

he totally just blew your cover

“you said you wouldn’t tell!” you scold playfully and lucas giggles before dropping his bag to the floor and spRinting over to his friends

“banana milk, huh?” jungkook peeks into one of them before looking over at you

he loves banana milk!!!!!!!!

“banana milk and animal crackers.” you correct and jungkook raises a hand in defence

oh fRick

he loves animal crackers too!!!!!!

you are the girl of his dreams!!!!!!

,.,.,.but like.,,., in a super casual way

because he hasn’t known you for very long

but it’s safe to say that he’s already become veRy fond of you and your company

you’re super friendly

and you’re super funny

and you’re super pretty

it’s also super cute when you’re cheering on for lucas on the sidelines

whenever he scores a goal you jump up and down on your feet and clap suPer excitedly and basically scREAM for him

jungkook loves how supportive you are even though this is a kiddie soccer game and the stakes are so unbelievably low

and his heart melted into a warm puddle that time lucas tripped and scraped his knee and you imMEdiately rushed to his aid

you patched him up and even kissed his boo-boo!!!!!! (lucas was a little embarrassed by that) ((he wouldn’t have minded if u did that at home but u did it in front of all of his bROS and he’s like the resident Cool Guy))

it doesn’t get any cuTEr than that!!!!!!

and jungkook knows that he’s here to coach but he’s finding it vEry hard to do his job whenever you’re around

because you smell like warm vanilla and your laugh is contagious and your smile makes his stomach do flip-flops

and the fact that you brought snacks and drinks for the kids is honestly just the icing on the cakE

“wanna split a banana milk?” jungkook jumps in surprise when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder

“wh- sorry, what was that? i was, uh, thinking about… stuff.” he clears his throat

wow

talk about s m o o t h

“i put the bag down for five seconds and the kids went wild but i managed to snag one carton without losing an arm.” you snort and poke the straw through the top “you wanna split one with me?”

he knows you’re not a mindreader but it’s taking every single one of his brain cells to try to noT think about how kissable your lips look right now

you turn slightly before holding the carton up for him to take a sip and you just have the cutest smile on your face right now and before he knows it he-

“do you wanna grab dinner sometime?” jungkook blurts out and his eyes widen in surprise when he realises that he just asked you out on a date

cuRse him and his complete lack of fiLTER

your own eyes widen in surprise and you blink owlishly

where did thAt come from

you’re not complaining or anything because yes of couRse you want to go out on a date with jungkook but heLLo where did that come from!!!!!!

“um, i-“

“oh, god. sorry! i’m sorry, that was totally- ah, jeez-“ jungkook groans quietly and reaches up to adjust his hat

“-jungkook-“

“-i’m sorry, you’re just really nice and pretty so i thought-“ he can feel his face burning hotter than the damn sun “-i just feeL like we get along really well even though we don’t really know each other buT we can always get to know each other on a date-“

“-yeah, you’re right about that-“

“-i don’t know what i’m thinking!!! i haven’t gone out on a date in a long time so maybe it’s not a-“

“-jungkook!” you slap a hand over his mouth and he stumbles backwards a little from the impact

“…myeah?” his voice is muffled and you give him a warning look so he shuts up quickly

you pull your hand away before adjusting your cardigan a little “i would… i would love to grab dinner with you sometime.”

“oh!” jungkook’s voice is slightly pitchy and he clears his throat quickly “cool. sick.” he says with a lower voice before sniffing and looking back over at the boys

it’s totally whatever

he’s cool

it’s casual

dinner is casual

he’s like… suuuuper chill about it, bro

“mm. sick, indeed.” you tease lightly before nudging his side “…you still wanna split the banana milk with me or not? because i’m going to inhale this entire thing if you don’t want any.”

(the entire time you and jungkook are taking turns taking sips of the banana milk he can’t help but feel like he’s indirectly kissing u)

((but whatever))

(((he’s like…. suuuuuuper chill about it, brO)))

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nightashes · 4 years

Note

Anxceit!! With Virgil having stood up for Janus, Virgil got hurt, and Janus now has to help him!!

You Help Me. I Help You.

a/n: Thanks so much for suggesting this! You’ll have to let me know what you think!

warnings: bullies. blood. violence.

ao3 version - writing masterlist

The sun is high in the sky. A few clouds drift by, wispy in appearance. As if an artist had taken a paintbrush and lightly blended them into the blue of the atmosphere. Janus sits amongst a collection of philosophy books, full of sticky notes and highlighter. His computer lies open in his lap, an empty word document stares out from the screen, mocking the student. Taunting him with the blinking of the text cursor, as more and more minutes pass without anything new to add to the page.

Janus has plenty to say on society. On morals he could rant for hours. Gender roles, he might as well clear his schedule for the day. But, the philosophy of love? He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Marriage is just a made up cultural obligation that society forces everyone to care about. Oh, these people love each other! Let’s spend all of our money on an unnecessary ceremony that will force the couple to stay together or face tons of debt to undo. And that’s just marriage. Romance in general is completely overrated, overpraised, and overdone.

Janus sighs, shifting his capelet on his shoulders in agitation. With spring slowly turning to summer, his signature outfit was beginning to grow uncomfortable in the heat. But did Janus care? Absolutely not. Beauty was pain and he loves his bowler hat and capelet more than society loves its billionaires.

He stares out across the campus lawn, scowling. The warm weather not only threatens his comfort but it has attracted hordes of students, crowding together to distract people like him that actually have papers to write. Warm weather is just awful. Truly horrid. Nothing good about it. He thinks to himself, watching a nearby group of students push and prod each other, their laughter loud and obnoxious. And to his left, another student, similarly dressed in dark clothing lounges beneath a tree. He spies Janus watching him and gesturing to the loud group rolls his eyes in annoyance. Janus smiles back, nodding in agreement. The purple clad student smirks. Flipping to a new page in his notebook. He begins sketching, quick and messily he runs his pen across the lined paper. Drawing hurriedly, and sneaking glances at the group before them. Catching Janus’s eye once done, he grins deviously. Flipping the notebook over, the student dramatically reveals a rather rough sketch of the three being attacked by a giant snake. Their shocked and terrified expressions caused the philosophy major to burst out into a deep and ruckus laughter. Booming out through the area, it shocks the offending group into silence. They turn around seeking the source of the sound. “What the fudge, you laugh like a Disney villain.” The one wearing a puka necklace calls out.

Janus stifles his chuckles, as the three make their way over to his position. “What are you even laughing at? Did your imaginary friend tell a joke?” A guy in a baseball cap, who thinks himself clever, speaks with bravado.

His friend with the sunglasses continues. “Are you seriously wearing a cape right now? What are you, some kind of nutcase?”

“A cape, I have no idea what you could possibly be referring to? I’m wearing a perfectly boring and unoriginal outfit just like you three fashionistas?” Janus speaks, sarcasm dripping with each word, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Did he just insult us?” Baseball cap questions. Genuinely looking confused. Janus can’t help but chuckle at the poor fellow.

“Oh, of course not. It was a compliment. I love it when people think wearing jeans and a t-shirt makes them an individual. You three must be so brave. I applaud you.” He slowly claps his hands, emphasizing each word. ”Good job on being so unique.”

Baseball Cap grabs the front of Janus’s jacket, lifting him up to a standing position. The brute leans in closely, his breath stinking of onions. He whispers menacingly. “You think you’re smarter than us? You think you’re better than us? You're wearing a frickin’ Halloween costume in April. You’re a freak.”

“Takes a freak to know a freak.” Janus breaks in. The brute throws him to the ground. He lands on his computer, a loud crack filling the air as the screen digs into his back. He winces painfully.

“HEY!” A voice, rough and angry, yells over the commotion. Janus rolls his head to the side, seeking the source of the shout. The darkly clad student is marching over, his fists are lowered to his side, his face dark, and his features pinched in rage. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” His voice booms, venom dripping from his words as he shoves his way through the group, trying to reach Janus.

Puka necklace grabs the hood of his jacket. Yanking him back into the center of their crew. Sunglasses grasp the student’s chin, “Well, well, well, What do we have here? Does the freak have a friend?”

The student glares back daggers, opens his mouth, and seizes Sunglasses’s hand between his teeth. He bites down hard, eliciting a scream of pain. Puka Necklace yanks him away from Sunglasses, while Baseball Cap gives him a right-hook to the check. The student collapses to the ground. Sunglasses kicks him in the ribs, clutching onto his bleeding hand. He lets loose a string of curse words. Kicking out again at the already down student, before stomping off. His buddies follow, angrily yelling and gesturing maddeningly.

With them gone, Janus rushes to the fallen student. The injured man lies on the ground, curled into a fetal position. His arms wrapping around him in comfort and protection. Janus kneels beside his fellow student.

“Hey, hey don’t worry. You’re okay.” He whispers assurances as his gloved hand rests on the boy’s shoulder.

The student weakly shoves his hand away. “Leave me alone.” He snarls, trying his best to rise. He manages to crouch onto his knees. His palms pressed into the fertile green grass of the campus lawn. He bends his fingers, digging his nails into the soil, breathing heavily from his mouth. A drop of blood is smeared across his lower lip. “I’ve got this.” The student sighs.

Janus appraises the stubborn student. “Yeah. I can see that.” He shakes his head in exasperation. The philosophy major sits there in silence, his chin resting in his hand as he watches the much too proud student attempt to stand. The purple clad man clutches his ribs as he brings his legs up beneath him. Trying to shift onto his feet, only to wobble and fall to his side.

“Ugh, everything hurts.” He groans.

“Oh really? Because I thought you were doing great? But, please, do let me know if you need a hand?”

“I’m fine.” The student spits, lying on his back, clearly not fine.

Janus rolls his eyes at the obvious lie. “Are you always this stubborn or is it only on Tuesdays?”

The student shifts his eyes to the side, examining his odd companion. “Just Tuesday and Thursdays. Although on Sundays I flip a coin.”

An amused tsk escapes Janus’s lips. “Well, I do appreciate the help with that gang. Running in like you did. You’re a true hero.” Janus bats his eyes, while his “savior” scrunches his face in annoyance.

“Oh har-de-har-har. You’re a real comedian.”

“No, really, I mean it. You… well.. You tried to help. And I suppose, that’s a nice thing to do. It’s a shame it backfired so spectacularly.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the story of my life, I suppose.”

“Things would probably go a little better if you’d let me help you. The name’s Janus by the way.” He sticks out a hand to the supine student.

“Virgil.’ His attempted savior answers, giving an odd two-finger salute in response.

Janus smiles, refusing to withdraw his hand. “Will you let me help you, Virgil?”

Virgil stares into the sky, genuinely considering his options. “I suppose I’ve already made a big enough fool of myself.” The purple student declares to the universe, finally taking hold of the offered hand.

The philosophy major growls at the self deprecation. “Wow, you truly are a fool.” Janus pulls his “savior” into a sitting position.

Virgil winces at the movement. “Thanks for the motivation.”

“No, really, you are an absolute fool. Stay here, I have some napkins in my bag.”

“Uhh...How am I a fool?” Virgil questions, watching Janus grab his bag and return, holding a napkin up to Virgil’s face.

“The fact that you think accepting help makes you a fool.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Everyone needs help. Oh, thanks.” Virgil winces as Janus applies the napkin to his lip.

“No, you clearly don’t get it. Hold that there.” Janus releases the napkin into Virgil’s grasp, pulling out his phone to text Remus. “My roommate is pre-med. I’ll see if he’s free. Can you lift up your shirt? I need to see your ribs.”

“Uhh.. is that necessary?” Virgil blushes red and well… Janus just couldn’t pass it up. He leans in.

“Is something wrong? You’re flushing red?” He hurriedly removes a glove from his hand. Pressing his bare palm to the forehead of the injured student. He leans in close, smiling. “You’re not feverish. Could it be… that you find me attractive?” His smile is wicked.

Virgil scowls pushing him away. “Please, just because you’re dressed like a Disney villain, does not mean I think you’re cool or attractive or anything.”

“Wait.” Janus reels back. “You like my outfit?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s just so unashamedly you. And well, Disney villains are just cool.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Janus leans in close again. “But I still would like to check your ribs. If you’d allow me.”

“Ummm… okay.” He lifts his shirt up slowly. Revealing bruises that are already beginning to show. “Is that bad? That looks bad?”

“Absolutely not. Ribs are supposed to look like that.” Janus jokes. Virgil does not find it funny in the slightest. He sighs. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ve seen worse than this.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. The roommate I mentioned. He gets into quite a few scrapes. He’s a lot like us. Unabashedly himself.” Janus speaks gently pressing his fingers to the ribs as Remus had taught him.

Virgil winces at the touch. “Maybe that’s not the best thing to be.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Virgil. Being myself is why you find me attractive.”

Virgil blushes, spluttering. “What??”

“It’s okay.” Janus smirks. “It’s why I find you attractive too.”

Virgil is practically gasping for air, the poor fellow. Janus pulls Virgil’s shirt back into place. He rises to stare into his savior’s eyes. “Well, I think you’ll be fine until Remus gets here. Until then, do you think I could have your number?”

The purple student gulps, nodding his head vigorously. He attempts to speak. His voice cracking. He pauses. And tries again. “Yes. Yeah. Um… okay.” He speaks quietly.

Janus unlocks his phone. Handing it over, he leans in to watch as the student types in his number, trying his best not to smile from ear to ear. “Thank you for letting me help you, Virgil.” He whispers as his phone is returned to him. Taking it back, he lightly lifts Virgil’s hand to his lips. Kissing the back of his fingers. “I think you’ve just helped me write my paper.”

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