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toujokaname · 1 year

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Get Along / Episode 6

Author: Kino Seitaro with Akira

Characters: Arashi, Tatsumi, Kanata, Hokuto, Hiyori

"Though as a unit, we triumphed against Eden, we're still rivals. In the end, I couldn't surpass him."

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Location: Seisoukan Common Room

Season: Winter

Arashi: It's ready, you guys~♪

How about it, take a look at the presentation! I was very careful ♪

Tatsumi: Fufu. Excellent presentation, Arashi-san. I think it looks great.

Arashi: Riight? I love these kinds of delicate tasks ♪

Kanata: The fish I sliced up also turned out to be a part of the "quiche"~

I think it "looks" and "tastes" delicious ♪

Hokuto: Though halfway through, Kazehaya-senpai was doing most of the cooking.

Really, you're pretty dexterous. All I could do was check the heat levels, but do you have cooking expertise as well?

Tatsumi: It's not like that. Since I was hospitalized for a long time after my leg injury, I just paid more attention to meals than others. It's simply the result of my injury.

Well then. Now that we've served everyone—let's eat before it gets cold.

Salmon quiche, Hiyori-san's favorite, and vegetable soup. Served with pickles as garnish.

Hiyori: Yup. It certainly looks perfect! More than enough for amateurs!

The real concern is the taste, though. My tongue can't be easily impressed, you know?

Nom, nom...

Kanata: What do you think? How does the quiche "taste"...? ♪

Hiyori: This taste is...

...Ordinary! Much too ordinary!

I can feel the effort you guys put into this. But as expected, it's hard to make it on the spot, isn't it?

Kanata: I see~ What a "shame".

Tatsumi: We tried our best, but it's no match to what Hiyori-san usually eats.

Hiyori: Yup, it's true. I'll be treating you to a quiche of my recommendation another time, so you can use it as a reference.

But... It made me happy.

The flavor conveyed everyone's sincere feelings, so naturally, it brings a smile to my face—

Fufu, everyone seems to be in a much better mood than yesterday ♪

Hokuto: That's right. At this rate, practice for the reading drama will go smoothly.

We're supposed to perform as five people who get along well. We have to be more closely involved than we usually are.

Hiyori: Mhm, mhm. That's a good goal! Hokuto-kun's "wish" is for the reading drama to be a success. Tatsumi-kun's "wish" is to get along with the members, both of them have made progress ♪

Arashi: Ufufu, that's right. Since I appeared in Kazehaya-senpai's radio show, we've opened up quite a bit to each other. Perhaps I'll tackle my own "wish" next ♪

Kanata: I'd also like to "bathe" with everyone ♪

Hiyori: That's good! Rather than having to work with patience and hardship, the ideal is for everyone to have fun and work toward a single goal.

That's the job of idols who can give hopes and dreams to everyone!

Tatsumi: Fufu. It's Hiyori-san's last job, after all. Everyone can't help but put all their efforts into it. I'm sure the "DJ Classics" episode will turn out wonderfully as well.

(♪~♪~♪~)

Arashi: Oh my, a ringtone...? Sounds like someone's phone is ringing.

Hiyori: ...Oops. Sorry, looks like my parents are calling again. I'm leaving for a bit.

Tatsumi: Understood. If it's going to take a long time, I'll put the food in the freezer—

Hiyori: Ahh, yup. That would be helpful.

I think they're calling me to ask about the preparations for moving out of the dormitory and the selection of a moving company... It's going to take a long time.

Unfortunately, you're going to have to eat without me. We'll meet up at the lesson after this... See you later!

Hokuto: ...Tomoe-senpai. When I see him preparing to move out like this, the realization that he's actually going to retire starts to sink in.

Kanata: That's right~ It was an unexpected "development".

I have been living in the "same room" as "Ohisama"-san. It will make me feel all the more lonely...

Arashi: I get it. Even in Pretty 5, I was always happy to see his cheerfulness and the way he took care of everyone.

I always thought that such fun activities would continue for a long time.

But, I understand that Tomoe-senpai's position doesn't allow for that.

Inheriting the family business, going to a university abroad—those are the normal ways for the son of a distinguished family to live.

Our Tsukasa-chan also persuaded his parents to let him continue to be an idol, but he was super distressed around the time of the Repayment Festival...

Tomoe-senpai must be in a similar situation.

Tatsumi: Being an idol is a relatively new profession. Even if he is one of the best, it would be difficult to get his parents' understanding.

Hokuto: Tomoe-senpai's retirement is a loss for the idol industry.

It's also a personal loss for me. Ever since confronting him at last year's Summer Live, I've admired him as a formidable senior.

Though as a unit, we triumphed against Eden, we're still rivals. In the end, I couldn't surpass him.

At the very least, I'd like to surprise Tomoe-senpai at the end of this job.

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#kino seitaro #akira #event story #princess kaguya #arashi #tatsumi #kanata #hokuto #hiyori

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officerjennie · 3 years

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honey cakes and bread (I'll have the soup, thanks)

Summary: Jaskier had recently come out to Geralt, using they/them pronouns, and it makes Geralt think more about his own relationship to gender - and the assumptions he makes on the reason he doesn't have one eventually come to light.

CW: Gender Dysphoria, NB!Jaskier, Agender!Geralt, Geralt doesn't understand how genders work, Geralt equates lacking a gender to lacking humanity (he is gently corrected)

WC: 2k+

Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on it!

For @thewitchertransweek Day Two: Nonbinary and Agender

It had been several years since Jaskier had started to tag along after Geralt, rather unwelcome at first though eventually Geralt… begrudgingly could admit that their company wasn’t the worst to have around. That night was one of the few nights he could say for certain that their presence was more welcome than not. Jaskier had been plucking away on their lute ever since the fire had been set up, humming a song that was all tune without words at this point. They were still trying to find the right words, lute propped up in their lap, foot tapping a beat into the air as they kept their eyes closed and swayed slightly with the music that seemed to flow through them.

Geralt had found relaxing far more difficult than Jaskier that evening. That whole day, if he was honest with himself. Something had set heavy in his chest, making his movements feel sluggish, though he knew it was no physical ailment that was bothering him. Brushing Roach down hadn’t helped. She’d nipped at him while he had soothed his fingers through her mane after, forehead rested against her neck, scratching her favorite spot behind her ears as he spoke softly to her. But not even that had knocked loose whatever had gripped ahold of him.

Neither had hunting down a handful of drowners in the nearby river, nor even cleaning his weapons after. He’d sat near the fire and wiped his sword meticulously clean, until the silver shone. It was sharpened until it cut the hairs off his arm and then put away in its sheath, and though the sun had already set, Geralt still found no peace.

It was a peace he’d never been able to find. A piece of himself. He stared at Jaskier, the light from the fire casting shadows while it also made them shine so bright.

For the first several years, Geralt had referred to them incorrectly. It sat wrong with him, knowing that now, though Jaskier had laughed at his grunted apology and waved it away with a flick of their wrist. But their laugh had been…

Geralt shifted on his log, scowling over at his friend. Emotions had always been the biggest struggle of his life, so he couldn’t name what had touched Jaskier’s laugh, but it hadn’t been anything good. It had been sad in a way. As if they were used to it, expected it, simply waved it away because it was the only option they had.

There was nothing Geralt could really do to change the way the world saw his bard, though it pained him. And he would gladly snarl at anyone who dared press the issue, if they were ever blessed to know Jaskier as they truly were. But it wasn’t Jaskier’s gender that kept Geralt’s chest and eyes tight.

“If you keep pursing your lips like that, dearheart,” Jaskier singsonged, their eyes just fluttering open, fingers having a mind of their own while they graced their way over the strings. “Eventually your lips will stay that way. Can’t have everyone knowing what a sourpuss you are, now.”

“Shut up.”

There was no real heat to his words, and perhaps that’s what clued Jaskier off. Why their fingers slowed on the strings, the last note resonating in the quiet night air, only accompanied by the insects that came out at night.

“Geralt? What’s on your mind?”

He jerked his head away, glaring off at a small patch of mushrooms that were growing near his log. “Nothing. Leave it.”

“Truly, Geralt, you do need to talk about things.” Geralt wanted to groan as he heard Jaskier sitting up, the shush of grass as they placed their lute down carefully. “Talking is what friends do, after all! And if you’ve not found an answer for whatever it is already, even if I can’t help, talking it out might let you see it differently. In a new light, perhaps?”

Geralt realized with a groan that it was too late. By the time he dared to glance up, Jaskier was walking towards him, that infuriating, soft smile on their lips - open, understanding, compassionate. Everything that Geralt wanted to go stiff at and promptly storm off to fight some wyvern or leshen that dared to get in his path. Those were so much easier than talks.

Maybe he should retire. Not return to the path after the next winter, stay at Kaer Morhen with Vesemir and set his life to fixing up the keep. It might be far more boring, less rewarding, and could possibly drive him crazy, but at least then he wouldn’t have to talk through his emotions with anyone. He’s pretty sure Vesemir hadn’t had one in about 50 years and wouldn’t be pressing Geralt to have any either.

They sat down on the log next to Geralt, their legs brushing together, and Geralt kept his eyes fixed elsewhere. Warmth still crept through him at the touch. No one else in his life, save for perhaps Eskel, had ever been so comfortable with him - and even then it was different with Eskel. They were brothers, close in a way he’d never be with anyone else, but he and Jaskier were decidedly not siblings.

But not even Eskel really understood what the mutagens had taken from him.

“You remember what we talked about?”

Jaskier shifted a bit closer, their hand coming to rest on Geralt’s arm. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, love. We do talk quite a bit.”

“You do,” Geralt shot back, taking the few moments of sputtering it earned him to breathe. Jaskier’s fingers were long, gentle where they gripped his arm. He wondered if they were taking care of their hands like they should - winter was just around the corner, and he hadn’t seen them applying much lotion.

“Few weeks back. About your pronouns.”

“Oh, is that- has that been bothering you?” Jaskier’s fingers slipped from his arm, but Geralt caught them before he could even think about it.

They felt rough. A bit too dry, though he had no right to judge. But he scowled down at the hand in his own anyway. Their fingers gave life to their music, and music was Jaskier’s lifeblood. Playing the lute as often as they did could leave them stiff, cracked, and once or twice even bleeding. He’d have to get them some more balm in the next town.

“Not like that,” he managed, laying their hands on his leg, and he felt the muscles in Jaskier’s hand relax at those words. “Just… I don’t know what that’s like.”

“I don’t expect you to, dearheart.” Jaskier’s tone was soft, and they pressed even closer, laying their head on Geralt’s shoulder with a sigh. “You don’t have to, it’s alright. Even if you don’t understand it, you’ve been nothing but kind and courteous to me about it - you accept me. That’s all I want.”

Geralt started to move, but didn’t, very aware of every touch point between them. Though Jaskier was very easy with touch, they’d never rested against him like this before. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he didn’t want them to move.

Words and emotions were so difficult. He fiddled with one of Jaskier’s fingers, trying to work out the right words to explain himself. Of course he didn’t expect to understand Jaskier, exactly, it was…

“All of it.” The pretty blue nail polish Jaskier had painted on a few days ago shined in the firelight. Geralt moved their fingers, transfixed by the colors. “I don’t get...any of it. I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have- oh, are you…?”

Geralt managed to look at them for a second, but quickly went back to staring at their fingers. The gentleness on Jaskier’s expression was too much.

“During the trials, I was mutated more than the others. It enhanced my senses further. Hearing’s better, smelling’s better, I see further and more clearly than my brothers. And,” Geralt took a breath, and only he could tell it shook, “and it stripped me of my humanity. I...I don’t have one. A gender. Not anymore.”

“Oh you sweet, silly man.” Jaskier reached over with their free hand and caressed Geralt’s cheek, and despite himself Geralt looked at them. Blue eyes shining with unshed tears, the smile on their lips so tender. “That’s not… Geralt, gender isn’t something that can be given or taken away. It’s a part of you. Part of how you experience the world, how you present yourself to the world. What makes you comfortable, what makes you you.”

“But I don’t…” Geralt took a sharp breath, repeating himself. “I don’t have one. Never felt like...like a man. Or woman. Or anything else.”

“Then that’s part of who you are, love.” Their fingers still ran across his cheek. Geralt leaned into them. “Not having a gender doesn’t mean you’re missing something. You’re still you, love, you’re still whole. Not lacking because of it. It just means that part of you has no neat little box to fit in.”

“So I don’t fit,” Geralt said, his tone a touch sour.

Jaskier sighed again, poking at his cheek with one long finger. “Not what I meant. You fit just fine - there are plenty of people who don’t think I fit, because I’m not a man or a woman. But they can eat my ass. I’m me and I’m wonderful, and I’m not wrong or different just because I’m not one of those two options. And the same goes for you.” They stopped poking at his cheek, instead feeling their way across one of his scars, eyes focused on their finger’s path. “So many people think the world is just honey cakes or plain bread. One or the other. But it’s not. And if you look at all of the variety of baked goodies in the world and think ‘I’d rather have soup, actually’, that doesn’t make you any less a person, any less wonderful and beautiful and beloved than anyone else.”

“You’re not great at this, are you?” Geralt grouched, but there was no heat to his words - and the tightness in his chest had lessened, even if just by a little.

“Over the years, I’ve met a few people who felt like that,” Jaskier mused, ignoring his barbed comment. “I can’t exactly say if they felt exactly like you - I’ve never felt like that, so I’m not sure - but one of them expressed the same sentiment as you. They’d never felt like a man, a woman, or any other gender.” Their fingers twisted around Geralt’s then, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I studied with them at Oxenfurt for a semester or two, and she at one point requested I mix up her pronouns. Both she and they, just at random. Are you picky about your pronouns, love? Are there some that feel more comfortable than others?”

It wasn’t a question he’d ever thought about. Geralt squeezed their hand back, rubbing his thumb against their skin, heart picking up at how familiar it all was. How close they were pressed together.

“Not used any others” is the only answer he had. Jaskier hummed, resting against his shoulder and nuzzling into it, making Geralt’s heart pick up faster.

“If you’d like - only if you’re comfortable with it, love - we could try out a few others? Can be in private if you’d like. I could talk to Roach and say ‘Oh, Geralt was so nice to me today. She complimented my new song, she let me sleep in, and they even said my voice didn’t grate on their every last nerve!’”

“At least make it realistic,” Geralt deadpanned.

“Be nice to me.” Jaskier stuck out their tongue, then wrapped their arm around him, tugging Geralt close. “So...is that a yes? Would you like to try that?”

“...yes.” Geralt leaned her head onto Jaskier’s and closed their eyes, listening to the melody of their heartbeats, the crackle of the fire a familiar comfort in the background.

@fontegagrilledcheese @unyielding-as-the-sea @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #jaskalt #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #jaskier x geralt #jaskier/geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher fic #fanfiction #the witcher #mywriting #the witcher trans week

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

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Late in the Night | Part Four

Previous part

Prompt: Friends have a bet how long it will take the ship to get together (Content Challenge Day 7)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1602

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

^^ Hey! If I haven't commented on your post(s) yet, it just means I haven't gotten the chance to read them. School has been ramping up, but as I have free moments, I'll be going back and looking at all your challenge posts <3

A/n: You guys...IT'S THE LAST PROMPT OF THE CONTENT CHALLENGE! What?! Thank you so much to everyone who participated and interacted with our posts. I had such a blast creating this past week and getting to know each and every one of you. I think it would be fun to do something like this again in the future, so let me know if you would like to be involved in planning/get updates!

As always, I encourage you to check out the accounts tagged above and our masterlists! You can find the challenge masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, enjoy :)

Aragorn waits, keeping an eye on the trees.

The minute his friends from the eastern inn arrive, they will leave town.

He had a pleasant night — private room, hot bath, well-prepared meals — but is ready to get back on their journey. For all he knows, the brief rest he allowed them could have already cost them vital time.

That thought causes him to pace.

“Calm yourself, dear friend, they will be along shortly,” Gandalf councils.

Aragorn tries to heed the wise wizard’s advice. Sure enough, he soon hears the light sounds of feet crushing grass and twigs, and knows they are close.

The four of them break into sight at roughly the same time, and Aragorn notices two things:

One, Legolas and Y/n refuse to look at each other.

Two, Gimli wears a grin bright enough to rival the sun.

Aragorn knows he must speak with the dwarf as soon as possible.

Something has happened.

Merry, who doesn’t get enough credit for his observation skills, notices the oddities too, and elbows Pippin in the side. Their eyes grow wide, and it takes everything in them not to shout guesses as to what this means.

It is a good while before Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, and Gimli have a chance to convene and discuss the new development. All four of them, though of course dedicated to the task at hand, desperately want a resolution to their ongoing bet.

It had started innocently enough.

Merry made an off-hand comment about how well Legolas and Y/n seem to get along. Gimli noticed the lass was a clumsier fighter when Legolas was watching. Aragorn realized his friend seemed nervous around the human woman. Pippin saw how each of them smiled brighter when the other was near.

Somehow or other, the four of them had put together their observations, and the rest is history.

The bet was born.

Each of them had put down fifteen coins and a deadline, losing the coins if Legolas and Y/n did not become a couple by the deadline, and winning coins if they did. Knowing his friend’s shy nature well, Aragorn had given the two the lengthiest allowance — six months. Pippin and Merry recognized the bold nature of humans, and guessed it would only take four months for Y/n to speak her mind and Legolas to reciprocate. Gimli, on the other hand, thought the two were already head-over-heels for each other and wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, and had given them only a month and a half.

Each participant, knowing his deadline was drawing nearer, had taken steps to push the two in the right direction.

The hobbit friends moved Legolas’ and Y/n’s bedrolls closer when they weren’t looking.

Aragorn put them on watch together. A lot. To the point where he actually felt bad about the bags under Y/n’s eyes.

But Gimli, perhaps, had been the boldest of them all, and proudly tells his friends so the moment they are alone much later that evening.

“Quickly, they are suspicious why it took four of us to gather firewood and herbs,” Aragorn mutters, darting a quick glance in the direction of camp.

“Yes, just get on with it,” Pippin squeaks, then throws a hand over his mouth, knowing he might alert Legolas with his volume.

“Alright, listen up lads.” Gimli grins and proudly tells his tale. “Boromir and I got to the inn first, as planned, and the innkeeper asked how many were in our party. I said two, and the innkeeper made a comment how it was good we didn’t have more folk waiting outside, as his inn was almost full. Well, that got me thinkin’, so I inquired how many more rooms were available. The innkeeper said two, not including the ones Boromir and I purchased. So I whipped out my velvet pouch and paid for another room, fibbin’ a bit and saying I might have a lady friend visiting and wasn’t sure if she would want to sleep in my room or not after our activities.” He wiggles his eyebrows in response to the stunned looks of his friend.

Aragorn shakes his head slowly, a bemused smile setting in his lips. “So you paid for an extra room just to force Legolas and Y/n into sharing?”

“Right you are,” Gimli grins, placing his fists on his hips. “It wasna even that expensive — I’ll make it back three times over, now that I’ve won this thing.”

“Ah, ah, ah, hold on,” Merry holds up a hand, halting Gimli’s gloat. “You can’t prove they did or said anything to start a courtship, so you haven’t won!”

“They won’t even look at each other and the elf’s as red as a strawberry, of course something happened,” Gimli practically shouts.

Aragorn, reliably a voice of reason, intervenes. “We shall have to inquire then, but be smart about it. We do not want to jeopardize their potential courtship with our game.”

The companions agree, then quickly turn to the forest, gathering firewood and herbs to supplement Sam’s soup and their cover story.

{***}

Back at camp, Legolas sits on a low tree branch, keeping watch over all his friends.

But mostly Y/n.

He cannot pull his eyes from her face. She sits on a rock, staring into the fire, absently cleaning the mud from her boots. Without permission, his mind goes back to the way he held her this morning, tucked against his chest, her leg wrapped around his. It was wildly improper, and he should be ashamed of himself.

But he doesn’t feel ashamed. Because the way they woke up this morning didn’t feel improper, it felt natural. With all his heart, Legolas wants to wake up like that every morning — his favorite person kept safely against his side. He wants to guard her and give her a wonderful life and bring her home and have his people adore her, too.

Legolas’ resolve hardens, because he knows he can no longer keep this to himself. Y/n has a right to know how he feels, because it affects her too.

He pushes himself from the branch, landing on the ground in silence. With four long strides, he stops beside her, reaching down a hand. “Will you talk with me?”

She looks up at him, nerves like she’s never felt before erupting within her. But she gathers her courage, forces what she hopes is a smile, and takes Legolas’ hand.

She wonders what he’ll say.

All day, she had been lost in embarrassment. Somehow in the night, she’d thrown her leg over his and practically attached herself to his chest — who does that?! And he’d said nothing when they woke up, only got up and went about his routine like normal.

So obviously, he doesn’t feel anything for her.

And that’s what this conversation has to be about.

Briefly, though, she allows herself to remember what it felt like to be in his embrace, and knows that she will cherish that feeling forever.

The warmth of his hand in hers helps her hold on to that memory and, to her surprise, when they reach a secluded spot, he does not let go. No, he takes her other hand in his, clutching both tightly.

Legolas nearly shakes with nerves, and he wonders if she can tell? Does she know how he feels like he might be sick? Oh, he has never felt anxiety like this before, and desperately wishes for it to be gone.

So he wastes no time in putting himself out of his misery.

“I want to be with you.”

Y/n blinks. Surely she can’t have heard him correctly? “What?”

Legolas sighs — her reaction gives him no indication how she feels either way. He bolsters his courage, and tries again. “I feel affection for each member of this Fellowship. But whereas I love the others as if they were my kin, I am unable to deny that how I love you is different. Elves live long lives and thus take matters of the heart very seriously. And, well,” he shrugs, all eloquence leaving him the moment he sees the shy, hopeful smile spread across her lips. “My heart is with you.”

Y/n can hardly believe her ears. She thought that he didn’t…that there was no chance of…but rather than dwell on all her miscalculations, or the myriad of dangers that haunt their future, she decides to just enjoy the moment. She throws her arms around Legolas’ neck, and he grips her tightly against him.

She turns her cheek to rest on his shoulder, unable to contain her grin. “You hold mine as well. I love you, Legolas.”

He pulls back only to rest his forehead against hers, head swimming from the joy of her acceptance and at being this close to her. “And I love you.” She lets out a giddy laugh and he closes his eyes, soaking in the sound. But then he focuses again, for there is something important he still must ask. “Will you accept my offer of courtship?”

Y/n can’t help herself from bumping her nose against his affectionately, and it feels so wonderful, so free to be with him this way. She has no desire for her future to continue without him, and so, her answer is found easily. “Of course.”

Relief settles in Legolas’ bones, the nerves finally leaving him and being replaced with happiness.

Just as their lips meet, the four friends break through the tree-line, back from collecting supplies.

Gimli’s triumphant shout can be heard for miles.

“Pay up, lads!”

A/n The end! This is the last chapter of this mini-series! Thanks for sticking with me as I had some fun with this one. I keep tag-lists, so at any time, just let me know if you would like to be tagged in anything. I’m in the planning stages of a Haldir x OC fic, and while I usually stay away from OC’s, I just cannot fathom typing “Y/n” for the length that I’m planning on making that story. So be on the lookout for that! Hope you all are taking care of yourselves and please know that my inbox is always open. Lots of love!

LITN tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama @hirokosoul @wellfuckmyexistence @ipsychosocial @anjhope1 @my-lotr-obsession-is-unhealthy

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

#obey me #om satan #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #fun request!

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legendaryoikawa · 3 years

Text

ares / suna rintarou / masterlist

pairing: suna x female reader

word count: 2k

synopsis: your stalker must’ve adore you so so much, he intends to kill for you.

quote: “If you're that obsessed with someone, why would you kill her? Humans are full of contradictions.” - Ai Yazawa

genre: stalker!au, caters mature themes such as manipulation, voyeurism, public masturbation, murder, violence coercion, borderline obsession.

note: i do not condone these behavior in real life. this is just a work of fiction.

minors dni

taglist: @boosyboo9206 @dokisaki (can’t tag) @godjo@flavostella02 @heykoutaro (can’t tag) @aleacarnin@licitix@katsukis-sad-angel@k-sakura @dokisuki (can’t tag) @black-water-78@throughtheinterstices @iloverarepares @newfriendjen @aizawaslovebot @ratatouille407 @midnightartist @ya-kkun @daicrie @mochipk @kanesshiiweeb @134340-cm @svgafresh @annexerca @neavil @paigypol (can’t tag) @aggressivelyshoutsokay thank you for the love and support!

BE PART OF MY TAGLIST HERE

Truly an ace of all fools.

Ares, the god of war. As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals.

Name it, Suna knows every possible if not, unique ways to kill. He prefers the crowbar as it’s efficient and easy enough to send a person to their graves. For his very own pleasure. It fuels him especially when he sees those eyes that were once full of life drown down to darkness of death.

Suna is known as one of the notorious lads at school. He never fails to leave an astonished look to every person he has passed by at school. People are stunned whenever he walks down the hallway with his school shirt unbuttoned and crumpled. His overall appearance is unruly with the noticeable scars that lingered on his face like ches. His disheveled jet black hair. Eyes that bore nothing but darkness. Chains dangling from each of his ears. His aura that is explainable and unassailable that could even strike the thunderbolt of the great god Zeus.

Suna is handsome. He looks like bad news. Wild.

He wielded an enormous influence among girls. Some swoon at the mere sight of him; others even resorted to some chase yet ended up a crying mess. Boys even fall for his charms, but one sharp glance is enough to wave them off like flies.

However, you on the other hand are not fazed by him nor his silhouette. Which made him to be drained by a pure soul like you.

Suna is so private and closed like an abandoned establishment and that could be the sole reason why people want to pry into his life. He had everyone controlled on the palm of his hand but he can’t seem to play with you like he initially plans to.

Suna has the patience of a boar. He shows signs of violence that it’s alarming. But people seem to be in love at his bad boy facade, no one dares to report him.

He is a living contradiction. Suna is a ride, a deadly one.

He comes to school with his boisterous friends that look exactly like how he presents himself. You can always hear their uproarious banters about their lives, endless wolf-whistling. They are the group of boys you wouldn’t want to mess with. Especially the mysterious Suna.

You made a promise to get the shit out of the tracks that had traces of the boisterous boy that is Suna.

Not just the boys that have brought out the never ending fiasco circulating around your highschool. There have been a high number of mysterious disappearances of students that you may have never heard of or slightly familiar to you that you cannot recall. Their skulls are cracked open with a brute force or a bullet to the head. Some are strangled, some are mutilated, and what makes it terrifying is that most of the victims are leading down to you.

You can still remember how Kang Hana spent her afternoon with you in the library for a philosophy project. You admit it yourself that Hana isn’t the preferable company. She’s too nosy, noisy and quite violent towards you as she keeps on hitting you on the arm whenever you spill something stupid. Nevertheless, you held no grudge towards the girl. And you were really stunned at the news of her sudden death.

Oh, you didn’t know someone was watching from the windows of the library outside. Irritability bubbles inside his body like a brook. He allows no one to go near you, let alone to hit you like a ragged doll. He always had a thing for you, he didn’t know when it started but by the way you looked at him like you are almost something to be disregarded. He is drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

It is always in Suna’s system. His mind is a bully, gushing him to do things that would make him thrilled, something that could awaken his fantasies.

He wants to kill. And he did.

He stood in all his glory, wearing his uninterested look while scrutinizing the other students walking along the hall. There at the lockers he spots Kang Hana awkwardly fumbling with the entangled bag straps.

His dark eyes bore into Hana’s figure. Eyeing her from head to toe. At this moment he is thinking of what he can possibly do with those limbs. Break it? Smash it? Mutilate it like how they do in the slaughterhouse? Suna approaches her figure, his switchblade ready in his windbreaker’s pockets.

He breaths, trying to muster his oh-so-charming smile. “Hey.”

Hana raises up her gaze and she is surprised that the notorious Suna is approaching her. Only if she knew his real intentions. “Oh my god. Hey.”

Suna is charming. Quite egocentric. It doesn’t take him long to persuade someone to sp with him or to go out on a date with him. If there is something you should be afraid about Suna, it is his ability to deceive people without them knowing his real motives. He has a calm demeanor but sometimes his arrogance fuels him to be so wild-driven.

He leads Hana to the abandoned establishment at the rundown part of the town. He made sure to give her a signal to meet him outside where no witnesses could see them. It’s always a step when considering crime, get rid of witnesses.

At this moment, Hana starts to get excited because she has foreseen what could happen. For her it’s sex. For him, it’s blood. Suna draws his switchblade near her carotid artery. She widens her eyes but laughter resonates in the eerie place.

She purrs. “I am a kinky person but I can try knife play.”

Suna doesn’t play. He draws the knife deeper to her neck until she realizes he is not joking at all. Kang Hana’s heart made a beeline for her throat and tried to make a f for her life but Suna had his strong hand gripping her hair.

She struggles but after every move she dares, the knife further penetrates her neck. Beads of sweat are dropping down to her cheeks. A hot sticky liquid from where the knife is trickling down her neck, dampening her collarbones down to her bra. She cries loud. “What do you want?!”

Suna smirks. He misses the familiar scent of blood flooding in his nostrils. “Your life.”

Her eyes widened in pure horror as the charming prince transformed quickly as a ruthless psychopath in just the blink of her eye. Hana tries to fight against his hold once again but Suna wants to finish off and not to take care of a wailing woman.

He repeatedly lash out the knife through her neck. The impact of his pounds set out her blood gushing out, splashing his pale cheeks. His right hand is dripping with her hot blood. Suna’s chest rose as his breathing became ragged but overall he felt so alive and content. He stares at Hana’s figure sprawled on the floor bathing with the pool of her own blood. Suna felt so driven with just crimson clouding his vision. He runs his tongue on the rows of his pearly teeth, a sinister smile tugging the corners of his lips. He did it for you.

The following days have been hell for you. No, you weren’t killed but you faced a frightening number of police interrogations for the victims were always drawing down to you. Like Hana, you were the last person she was with before her neck was slashed out like a cow in the slaughterhouse. The pulse of a blue and red strobe from the police mace being parked in the circular driveway. You stare at the officer's badge, his holstered Glock. The night air settles the eerie night, still, gauzy full of humidity.

The interview lasts about a good hour but you are deemed innocent as Hana’s whereabouts where the crime took place didn’t match your activity. Her clothes are missing on the spot but the investigators found it drenched in this liquid they believed was an oxygen producing detergent didn’t match. Since the laboratory personnel couldn’t get any fingerprints from her body, it has been declared useless for the crime.

It has been weeks since you find yourself able to breathe again but it didn’t last long when you were bombarded with unknown and creepy messages that you couldn’t withstand at all.

I know you. From everything you do, I know it all.

You belong to me, your full name.

I find it romantic to see how excited you look whenever I send these messages. Shall I start sending my pictures as well? Or the throne I made for you?

From morning you go to your mother’s flower shop to gather primrose to deliver to your grandfather that lives in the twenty second street downtown.

Your favorite thing to do is to draw, my sweet. I am right, am I? I’m always right.

I saw you talk to that small loser from class D. Now don’t ever talk to him again or you will see his head delivered right at your doorstep. I love you and I’m being the nice guy here.

Do you perhaps like the idea of your friend's limbs personally delivered to you? Your pick.

I am always watching you, your name.

Oh, you had a museum date with your friends? Don’t go, I am at your grandmother’s restaurant, she serves the ultimate broth soup. Too bad I can stop her from serving these delicacies.

I know deep down, you love me too. Don’t you ever try to date behind my back without telling me. I did kill for you.

Your parents aren’t home. Do you want me to visit?

So much love for you. Your long secret admirer :)

I love you. I will kill for you.

He isn’t joking. He knows everything about you. All the meticulous details no one knows but your family. Whenever you receive a message from him, your heart would pound against your rib cage. It terrifies you to the core that he exactly knows the precise details of your whereabouts.

You immediately reported this matter to the police, to your parents but it didn’t settle the problem. The number isn’t traceable. They keep on insisting that the number used is from an unregistered sim. You fear for your life, your personal space, everything.

You weren’t just experiencing the never ending terror of your stalker’s messages. But some of your things are now starting to disappear, from your bracelets, your baby pictures now, now, your white lacy underwear.

You are blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes that follows every movement as you exit the school grounds. He looks down on his hand, gripping his favorite underwear of you. He had a picture when you wore the garment, and it was his favorite among all.

He makes his way to his heavily tinted car, a smile never leaving Suna's face as he clutches the garment tightly on his hands. His soulless eyes stared back at him the moment he stared at the rear view mirror. And drives to the nearest convenience store.

He keeps on fantasizing about you. The way your name rolls out of his tongue while jerking out never fails to send himself to ecstasy. He can’t wait to meet you, but one thing he is sure of, he will be watching you tonight.

Suna is always a step ahead of his plans. He is meticulous and calculative. His plans never backfire for he knew what methods to use. For the days he has been killing he already knows how to get rid of evidence that could lead to him. The boy’s got a sharp tongue as well, a serpent’s, he uses lies to cover up the real Suna that hides behind the charming facade he puts front.

He wore black. Black that is a mystery. Eerie. He wears a black bucket hat that covers his beautiful features that compliments his youth. Despite the dusk ebbing its way, his moles are always as alive as the constellation. He secures his mask tighter on both ears, as appealing as it sounds, he cannot show his face to you, just not yet. He had a thing to do, he had something to accomplish.

“Just in time” he breathed into the shadows. His eyes follow your figure marching down the dim lit streets. A smirk paints his lips as you still try to swat everything and thinking to yourself everything is still normal. But no, not until he is dead. He could have easily needle out your background from Kita but you were his and it gives him satisfaction whenever he discovers something about you. Things that aren’t open for others but just for him.

He immediately hid behind a large tree, once you entered your home. He makes sure to secure a great and measurable distance from him to you, not so far yet so near. He clenches his fist, the idea of watching you undress from your windows sends him a big wave of pleasure.

He begins to scramble up trying to get a hold of the strongest branch his forearm could manage. Some twigs tried to interrupt him midway but nothing can stop a hungry predator from lurking on his prey. He finds the perfect spot just parallel to your window.

“Fuck” he hiss as he felt his phone vibrate from his pocket. “What it is now fucking Atsumu?”

“Lover boy, I forgot to place your camera in your bag, bye.”

The camera is not his top most concern. He has his phone that is full of you.

You were humming quietly. He follows your hands, removing your school blouse that left the boy’s mouth agape. His cock immediately hardens at the sight, and he cannot risk himself to jerk while on the tree. He scrambles immediately, carelessly fishing out for his phone to take a picture of you naked.

Suna is always not satisfied with the bare minimum. He records you, doing your private thing in your room. He is biting hard on his lips, his erection sticking out painfully against his pants. He has to endure much longer till you have finished your routine applying lotion to your shiny long legs. Those legs that he can’t wait to touch.

Suna left the place shortly. He’s astounded. You drive him wild and wild he is. You fuel the monster more.

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

tangerine guesthouse

member: haknyeon genre: fluff word count: 2,238 synopsis: on a healing trip to jeju island, you meet a guesthouse owner who goes the extra step to make sure you enjoy your stay.

a/n: happy birthday to our jeju boy, juhaknyeon ! 🍊

After impulsively quitting your job, you packed a suitcase and booked a last minute flight to Jeju Island. You wanted to escape but unfortunately didn’t have enough money for an international flight. So you found yourself flying over on a domestic plane.

Everything about this journey was spontaneous. The money you saved up on the side from your tedious 9-5 job was all spent on this healing trip. With nothing but a camera in your hands, you were determined to finally rest and have fun for once. You hadn’t had the luxury to do so in years.

Before you left Incheon Airport, you reserved a room at a random bed and breakfast you found online. “Tangerine Guesthouse”. It had a cute name.

The taxi dropped you off in front of the place and you cautiously walked in with your bag rolling behind you. You peaked inside the building, unsure if you were supposed to just enter.

“Hello!” a chirpy voice greeted you. Startled, you jumped as you turned around to face the person who nearly gave you a heart attack. Seeing him only made your heart beat faster. He was cute. Extremely cute.

“Are you here to rent a room?” he asked.

“Y-Yes, I made a reservation a couple of hours ago,” you pulled out your phone to show him the details.

“Ah, Y/n! Yes, welcome,” he beamed. “My name is Juhaknyeon but please call me Haknyeon.”

You reached out to shake his hand and were surprised to feel how soft they were.

“Allow me to show you to your room,” he said before guiding you upstairs.

The room was fairly small but cozy. It had everything you needed and made a cute space for photos. After Haknyeon left, you began to unpack.

You heard a knock on the door and mindlessly told your guest to come in. You looked up when they entered, surprised to see another male.

“Hello! I’m Sunwoo and I’m staying in the room next to yours,” he introduced himself. “I just wanted to stop by to say hi and get friendly.”

“Nice to meet you, Sunwoo. I’m Y/n,” you smiled.

“The other guests and I are gathering this evening to just chat over beer. Would you like to join us as well? We’d love to have you,” he said.

On a normal occasion, the introvert in you would have declined. However, you were on a healing trip and resolute about trying new things. So you happily accepted the invitation and promised to meet them in the yard at 7.

You had about four hours until then and decided to kill time by exploring the neighborhood. You enjoyed the change in scenery and the fresh air that Seoul could not offer.

You found yourself alone at a nearby beach and embraced the solitude. There were no managers yelling at you about deadlines or coworkers passive aggressively criticizing your work here. It was just you and the roaring waves. Grabbing your camera, you took a few shots of the salty sea. Perhaps you would return to your hobby and pursue photography.

You allowed yourself to consider it as an option as you headed back to the streets to look for a restaurant. You settled for the closest one and were satisfied with your choice when you took a bite of their seafood ramen.

You roamed around a bit more after the meal. You came across a souvenir shop and ended up spending a lot of time—and money—there. You certainly had a thing for cliche souvenirs. Keychains, magnets, mugs. You loved them all.

You came back to the lodging with a bag full of trinkets you knew you would keep instead of gifting. The retail therapy added a bounce in your walk as you climbed up the stairs. You organized them accordingly as you happily hummed.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was time to convene with the rest of the boarders. You threw on a cardigan before going back outside.

Haknyeon was by the grill flipping meat and Sunwoo was busy taking out the drinks from the fridge. You awkwardly stood around, not knowing where to go.

“Take a seat wherever you want,” Sunwoo called out.

Finding an empty spot, you sat down and looked around. The yard was decorated nicely to bring a nice ambiance.

“Hi, I’m Eric and this is Hyunjoon,” the guy next to you grinned.

You exchanged greetings with the two and introduced yourself. You had to admit it was nice to meet such amiable people.

The night went by with the five of you conversing over black pig samgyupsal and alcohol. Haknyeon was a big foodie, Sunwoo was a big tease, Eric was a big dork, and Hyunjoon was a big sports enthusiast. Hyunjoon came to Jeju to enjoy horseback riding and planned on dragging Sunwoo and Eric along.

“If you guys are down for some physical activity, I can destroy you in badminton,” Haknyeon suggested.

“Loser has to down a bottle of soju. Each,” Eric laughed evilly.

To make the teams fair, you were paired up with Haknyeon to play against the other three. He definitely proved his worth as the ace, easily winning 21-12. Sunwoo let out a scream, blaming Eric for his punishment suggestion. The latter tried to run away but was caught by Hyunjoon who handed him a bottle.

They all retreated to their rooms after fulfilling their penalty, leaving you and Haknyeon to clean up. The work was done relatively quickly and you made it back to your bed before midnight.

The next morning, you came out of your room clutching your Ryan doll that doubled as a pillow. You mumbled a “good morning” to Haknyeon who was preparing breakfast and chuckled at your appearance.

“Cute,” he commented on your tastes. You replied with a yawn, still not fully awake.

“The guys are probably gonna be hungover so I’m making some soup. I hope that’s okay with you,” he said.

He rolled up his sleeves before washing his hands. He then grabbed a knife and began cutting the vegetables. Your nose wrinkled at the sight of onions. You had forgotten to mention how picky you were. It was an embarrassing conversation to have as an adult. You had to explain how your childish tastebuds never matured while people let out an incredulous gasp. It was something you had to disclose every time you ate with someone new and it was honestly pretty tiring. People didn’t understand that you didn’t choose to be picky. Your tongue just refused the tastes of a lot of foods. It was more inconvenient for you than anyone else.

Nevertheless, you were excited to try the food made by the self proclaimed food connoisseur. You would just have to pick out the vegetables later.

The two of you decided to just eat together after the guys refused to wake up before noon. Haknyeon took a seat in front of you after he set the table and you thanked him.

To your relief, he didn’t seem so shocked by your childlike palate. He let the conversation end by saying something about respecting other people’s preferences.

Noticing your hair falling in front of your face, he got up to go look for something. He returned with a hair tie which he offered to you. It was just a courteous gesture but it still made you giddy regardless. The hair tie was probably just a spare left by previous guests but to you, it was a token. Something to remember him by.

“So, Y/n, what brings you to Jeju?” he questioned.

You’ve heard your name before many times in your life. Obviously. But hearing it from his voice felt different. The way your name rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh you know, just the typical “I wanted to get away from the city” trope,” you hummed.

“Classic,” he nodded.

After breakfast, Haknyeon volunteered to be your tour guide for the day. He showed you his favorite places in town and even drove further out to take you to the photo exhibition you wanted to see. You had a blast, taking a bunch of pictures to commemorate your trip.

When he asked why you used such a fancy camera and why you took photos of everything, you simply shrugged in response. Truthfully, you didn’t know why either.

For lunch, he brought you to a sashimi place where you bonded over a large platter of raw fish. Both the view and quality of the restaurant were amazing. And your company too, of course.

“Do your guests always get such personalized treatment?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Honestly? No,” he laughed. “I’m not that great of a host. Nor do I have the time and money to.”

“Then what’s all this? Today?”

“Hmm… I’m not quite sure.”

You left it at that and let him take you to an aquarium. Haknyeon had more fun watching you than looking at the animals. You were like a little kid in a candy store. Everything was fascinating to you.

The last time you visited an aquarium was for a field trip when you were in elementary school. It felt like you were going back to your childhood roots.

You made it back to the guesthouse in time for dinner. This time, you insisted on cooking. With the ingredients left in the fridge, you made kimchi fried rice. The smell lured the others down to join you two in the kitchen.

The rest of the night was rather uneventful, which you appreciated. You got to relish time just passing by. It was exactly what you came to Jeju for.

Back in your room, you connected your camera to your laptop to browse through the photos. Looking at them, you noticed that Haknyeon was in half of them.

“Maybe it was him I wanted to save in my memory,” you whispered under your breath.

Another week went by and you wished time would flow slower. Hyunjoon was the first to leave the guesthouse and it already felt a lot emptier without him. You hated goodbyes. You hated how all good things had to eventually come to an end.

The feeling made you cherish the remaining time you had left on the island. You spent your evenings with the guys and frequently chatted in the group chat with all five of you in it. You never expected to grow so fond of strangers you barely got to know. Haknyeon, in particular, had a special place in your heart.

He often took you out on what you liked to believe were dates. Under the guise of being your tour guide, he showed you the hidden parts of his hometown. Though he was slightly disappointed that your favorite thing from all the menus you’ve tried was the black sesame frappuccino from Starbucks.

“Really? Of all the things you’ve eaten and drank, you choose something from a chain store?” he had whined.

“Hey, they only have it here. I can’t get it anywhere else,” you defended.

He made it his mission to find you something local that would triumph over your love for the Starbucks drink. A close second was the makgeolli made and sold only in Jeju.

By the time Sunwoo and Eric left, you and Haknyeon had gotten extremely close. With him, it was so easy to open up and just be you. You practically lived in his room. You slept over after late night movies and cuddles.

Neither of you ever verbally defined your relationship. You were both somewhat afraid to ask what exactly you two were. Instead, you focused on each other.

“So you’re picking up photography again?” he asked with your head resting on his chest. The two of you were lazing around on the couch with a random show on for background noise.

“Possibly. It was always an interest of mine. I thought I’d get to have it as a side-job once I started working full time but I never got around to it. Trying to make a living was a lot harder than I thought it’d be,” you revealed.

“You definitely have the talent. I think you should take the opportunity and go for it,” he encouraged.

The idea lingered on your mind as the second week flew by. Your passion for photography had been pushed to the side as you struggled as a paycheck worker. You missed taking up odd gigs for extra cash in college.

On your last night at the guesthouse, you paused in the middle of dinner to stare at Haknyeon. The more time you spent with him, the more you didn’t want to leave. Changing your career path because of a guy was crazy. Moving to an island because of said guy that you only met two weeks ago was even crazier. But he inspired you to do what your heart desires. And that included being with him.

“What if I moved here to start freelancing? Publish that photography book I always dreamed of. Maybe set up my own studio one day,” you pondered aloud.

That proposition had many implications about the relationship between you two. He took a moment to carefully contemplate over it. Your heart pounded waiting for his response.

“If that’s what you truly want to do, I think that’d be nice,” he smiled, making your own face light up.

a/n: wow i was reminiscing my own time at jeju while writing this 🥺 and now, with this fic, i have officially written for all tbz members! :)

#the boyz #haknyeon #the boyz haknyeon #tbz #the boyz fluff #haknyeon fluff #the boyz haknyeon fluff #tbz haknyeon fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz fic #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #haknyeon fic #haknyeon scenarios #haknyeon imagines

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demwhore · 4 years

Text

Ares | L.JN

pairing┃lee jeno x female reader genre | stalker fic, thriller, horror, angst warnings | this is a problematic fic! please read at your own risk! there is no way jeno is like this in real life, this fic is purely fictional and shouldn’t be romanticized in any way, please report any activities of stalking!! mature scenes, profanities, murder, graphic violence, manipulation, coercion, borderline obsession !! Please, Jeno is not like this in real life, this is just a work of fiction !! word count | 2,431k synopsis | He’s not beautiful like how people see him. He’s wicked. a/n | this is actually my very first planned fic and @neo-cult-ure knows about this haha love you!! and my love, @jungcity, for fixing my crap grammar xD taglist | @milkinqjungs, @nanasarea, @lovestrucked-again, @neoyoungho, @bumblebeenct, @haechaaaaaaanssi, @bedraggledsijeuni, @nakamotonikkoru muse | killing me softy, the manhwa :: killing stalking, a picture of jeno glaring :: every breath you take ( listen for maximum experience )

Truly an ace of all fools.

Ares, the god of war. As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals.

Name it, Jeno knows every possible if not, unique ways to kill. He prefers the crowbar as it’s efficient and easy enough to send a person to their graves. For his very own pleasure. It fuels him especially when he sees those eyes that were once full of life drown down to darkness of death.

Lee Jeno, is known as one of the notorious lads at school. He never fails to leave an astonished look to every person he has passed by at school. People are stunned whenever he walks down the hallway with his school shirt unbuttoned and crumpled. His overall appearance is unruly with the noticeable scars that lingered on his face like leeches. His disheveled jet black hair. Eyes that bore nothing but darkness. Chains dangling from each of his ears. His aura that is explainable and unassailable that could even strike the thunderbolt of the great god Zeus.

Jeno is handsome. He looks like bad news. Wild.

However, you on the other hand are not fazed by him nor his silhouette. Which made him to be drained by a pure soul like you.

Lee Jeno is so private and closed like an abandoned establishment and that could be the sole reason why people want to pry into his life. He had everyone controlled on the palm of his hand but he can’t seem to play with you like he initially plans to.

Lee Jeno has the patience of a boar. He shows signs of violence that it’s alarming. But people seem to be in love at his bad boy facade, no one dares to report him.

He is a living contradiction. Lee Jeno is a ride, a deadly one.

You made a promise to get the shit out of the tracks that had traces of the boisterous boy that is Lee Jeno.

It is always in Jeno’s system. His mind is a bully, gushing him to do things that would make him thrilled, something that could awaken his fantasies.

He wants to kill. And he did.

His dark eyes bore into Hana’s figure. Eyeing her from head to toe. At this moment he is thinking of what he can possibly do with those limbs. Break it? Smash it? Mutilate it like how they do in the slaughterhouse? Jeno approaches her figure, his switchblade ready in his windbreaker’s pockets.

He breaths, trying to muster his oh-so-charming smile. “Hey.”

Hana raises up her gaze and she is surprised, that the notorious Lee Jeno is approaching her. Only if she knew his real intentions. “Oh my god. Hey.”

Jeno is charming. Quite egocentric. It doesn’t take him long to persuade someone to sleep with him or to go out on a date with him. If there is something you should be afraid about Jeno, it is his ability to deceive people without them knowing his real motives. He has a calm demeanor but sometimes his arrogance fuels him to be so wild-driven.

At this moment, Hana starts to get excited because she has foreseen what could happen. For her it’s sex. For him, it’s blood. Jeno draws his switchblade near her carotid artery. She widens her eyes but laughter resonates in the eerie place.

She purrs. “I am a kinky person but I can try knife play.”

Jeno doesn’t play. He draws the knife deeper to her neck until she realizes he is not joking at all. Kang Hana’s heart made a beeline for her throat and tried to make a flee for her life but Jeno had his strong hand gripping her hair.

Jeno smirks. He misses the familiar scent of blood flooding in his nostrils. “Your life.”

Her eyes widened in pure horror as the charming prince transformed quickly as a ruthless psychopath in just the blink of her eye. Hana tries to fight against his hold once again but Jeno wants to finish off and not to take care of a wailing woman.

He repeatedly lash out the knife through her neck. The impact of his pounds set out her blood gushing out, splashing his pale cheeks. His right hand is dripping with her hot blood. Jeno’s chest rises as his breathing became ragged but overall he felt so alive and content. He stares at Hana’s figure sprawled on the floor bathing with the pool of her own blood. Jeno felt so driven with just crimson clouding his vision. He runs his tongue on the rows of his pearly teeth, a sinister smile tugging the corners of his lips. He did it for you.

The interview lasts about a good hour but you are deemed innocent as Hana’s whereabouts where the crime took place didn’t match your activity. Her clothes are missing on the spot but the investigators found it drenched in this liquid they believed was an oxygen producing detergent. Since the laboratory personnel couldn’t get any fingerprints from her body, it has been declared useless for the crime.

It has been weeks since you find yourself able to breathe again but it didn’t last long when you were bombarded with unknown and creepy messages that you couldn’t withstand at all.

I know you. From everything you do, I know it all.

You belong to me, your full name.

I find it romantic to see how excited you look whenever I send these messages. Shall I start sending my pictures as well? Or the throne I made for you?

From morning you go to your mother’s flower shop to gather primrose to deliver to your grandfather that lives in the twenty second street downtown.

Your favorite thing to do is to draw, my sweet. I am right, am I? I’m always right.

I saw you talk to that small loser from class D. Now don’t ever talk to him again or you will see his head delivered right at your doorstep. I love you and I’m being the nice guy here.

Do you perhaps like the idea of your friend's limbs personally delivered to you? Your pick.

I am always watching you, your name.

Oh, you had a museum date with your friends? Don’t go, I am at your grandmother’s restaurant, she serves the ultimate broth soup. Too bad I can stop her from serving these delicacies.

I know deep down, you love me too. Don’t you ever try to date behind my back without telling me. I did kill for you.

Your parents aren’t home. Do you want me to visit?

So much love for you. Your long secret admirer :)

I love you. I will kill for you.

He makes his way to his heavily tinted car, a smile never leaving Jeno's face as he clutches the garment tightly on his hands. His soulless eyes stared back at him the moment he stared at the rear view mirror. And drives to the nearest convenience store.

Jeno is always a step ahead of his plans. He is meticulous and calculative. His plans never backfire for he knew what methods to use. For the days he has been killing he already knows how to get rid of evidence that could lead to him. The boy’s got a sharp tongue as well, a serpent’s, he uses lies to cover up the real Lee Jeno that hides behind the charming facade he puts front.

“Just in time” he breathed into the shadows. His eyes follow your figure marching down the dim lit streets. A smirk paints his lips as you still try to swat everything and thinking to yourself everything is still normal. But no, not until he is dead. He could have easily needle out your background from Jaemin but you were his and it gives him satisfaction whenever he discovers something about you. Things that aren’t open for others but just for him.

“Fuck” he hiss as he felt his phone vibrate from his pocket. “What it is now Lee fucking Donghyuck?”

“Lover boy, I forgot to place your camera in your bag, bye.”

The camera is not his top most concern. He has his phone that is full of you.

Lee Jeno is always not satisfied with the bare minimum. He records you, doing your private thing in your room. He is biting hard on his lips, his erection sticking out painfully against his pants. He has to endure much longer till you have finished your routine applying lotion to your shiny long legs. Those legs that he can’t wait to touch.

Jeno left the place shortly. He’s astounded. You drive him wild and wild he is. You fuel the monster more.

#lee jeno #jeno scenarios #yandere kpop #nct fanfictions #yandere!jeno #nct angst #nct horror #nct fanfiction #nct yandere #yandere!nct #nct dream #nct dream angst #nct dream horror #nct dream smut #nct dream yandere

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roguesandsaviors · 4 years

Text

Searching for the Facts

Fandom: Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, Jon Bernthal characters

Characters: Mr. McCarthy, Elizabeth McCarthy (OFC)

Pairing: Mr. (Joey) McCarthy x Elizabeth McCarthy (OFC)

Summary: After Greg poses the question about cancer, Mr. McCarthy heads home to his wife but can't shake the news. He knows she would have the answers.

Word Count: 1,888

Rating: SFW

Warning: Mentions of cancer

AN: This idea popped into my head as soon as the scene where Greg asks Mr. McCarthy about Leukemia played out. Joey was also the first name that came to mind for the character since we don't get a first name. Not sure why. Enjoy!

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(gif credit)

The gentle hum of jazz was the first sound that greeted him as he walked through the door. It brought a smile to his face as he toed off his boots and settled his keys onto the hook set by the door. A few new books lay scattered on the ottoman, along with a notebook and various colored pens. He would have taken a moment to peek over what the work of the day had been if he hadn't been as eager to see his wife.

While they had been together for some time, it was only recently that they married and there still was that new sense of pride in being able to call her his wife. The thought was enough to put a smile on his face. A couple of his co-workers had asked about the ring that they had spied and it had generated some talk around the school. It had been an amusing addition to the day. No one had expected him to settle down. He kept quiet about his personal life normally so any sort of change would come as a surprise to any of them. No one needed to know every little detail. Besides, the longer that no one asked, the longer he could just keep her to himself. Not that he had an issue showing off the relationship. Joey had never really been shy about much. No, it was more of a desire to spend what free time they had together unencumbered, enjoying the company of the other soul that understood. Perhaps it was selfish but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Joey found himself leaning against the door frame leading to the kitchen. The sight before him warmed his heart and reminded him of just why he loved coming home. Liz was swaying softly, singing just under her breath to the steady rhythm coming from the small speaker in the corner. The kitchen smelled wonderful and he realized just what she was making while enjoying the soft moments to herself. One of his favorites, cutting noodles while the soup had to be simmering in the pot on the stove. He was a lucky man and coming home to this just reminded him of that. He cherished each of these small moments.

Coming up behind her, his hands found her hips as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head. A deep breath in and he found the soothing scent of lavender still clinging to her. He had never found any sort of scent on a woman soothing before Elizabeth had entered his life. Now he couldn't help but relax when the familiar smell carried in the air.

"Evening sweetheart." He heard the soft gasp that left her, knowing that he had surprised her, before laughing as she slapped at him blindly. The waving motion barely tapped his side and he had to suppress a laugh.

"Joey McCarthy! What have I told you about sneaking up on me?" She whined playfully but never stopped working on dinner. He loved that even rattled, she rarely lost her composure. It was one of the first things that he had noticed about her when they met.

"I couldn't help myself. You looked so peaceful. Love it when you sing and dance like that."

"And you had to go and ruin it." He kissed the back of her head again, swaying to the music with her. He didn't have to see her cheeks to know that she was blushing. For as fired up as he could be in school, these soft moments were far more common in the household. Not that he didn't get excited and child-like in his enthusiasm, but he was a bit more mellow here, with her.

"Nah. Just added to it and that's a fact." He teased. "What made you decide on Khao Soi tonight?" He rested his chin on her shoulder and watched as she finished cutting the noodles.

"Thought it might be a nice surprise. Didn't know what your day was going to be like and I had to take a break."

"I saw the notebook." Forced to step back so she had room to continue cooking, he moved to grab himself a water. "Did you get stuck?" It was rare that she would abandon her own research in favor of cooking, no matter what. It must have meant that she had to leave it. Now that he was looking at her, he could see the frays on the well worn long sleeve shirt of his that she had taken. Apparently it was comfortable and comforting while she worked but the sleeves told him how frustrated she had been when or working.

"Hit a snag." He could hear the frown in her voice. "The data didn't add up so I had to backtrack a bit and dove into some similar projects to see what was found and what problems they may have run into. It's just not making sense. So either I'm missing something I'm not seeing or the experiment itself was flawed."

"I'm sure you'll get it figured out one way or another." He wasn't even going to attempt to understand what it was that she had been working on. He was skilled in a lot of areas and knowledgeable in many but when it came to the hard research she performed, he was lost. He tried to look it over and understand, always willing to expand his knowledge. Even if it was over his head.

"It just feels like if something is wrong, all of those people wasted time that they won't get back. Things they could have done with loved ones, bucket list things. Their time is limited and they were generous enough to grant it to try to help others. And if there's nothing to show for it…" She paused and Joey could see just how affected by it she was. He stepped forward again and turned her around so they could look at one another.

"It isn't a waste of time and they wouldn't feel that way. They knew what they were getting into and wanted to do it. Just like you said, to help others. If something is wrong, then you know it for next time. It's all a step in the right direction. Data to be compiled and figured out, giving you the opportunity to just improve on it." She didn't look at him right away but found herself sighing and nodded. He tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss to her forehead, cheek, and finally lips. "If there is anyone who knows how to handle this, it's you sweetheart." Finally a small smile came from her and he felt relieved. She took this all to heart, and being a cancer researcher, he couldn't see her being anything but empathetic and passionate about it. It was part of what had drawn him to her in the first place.

She pressed a hand over his heart, eyes dropping for just a moment to where it lay, before they raised again.

"What would I do without you?" Now would be the time for teasing.

"Be locked away in that awful one bedroom apartment you had, crouched over your research, and probably not eating the way that you should." She rolled her eyes but was clearly more at ease than she had been before. "And you know it's true. Can't deny it."

"Yeah yeah. As if you are any better," she grumbled playfully before giving him a little push back. "Let me finish dinner." He allowed the push and backed up with a smile. She looked adorable right now. He had left her in a better mood than when he had found her so it was mission accomplished.

"I'm going to go shower. I'll be out soon." Letting her finish cooking in peace seemed like a good thing now that he had cheered her up a bit. She could enjoy what she was doing rather than focus on what she hadn't been able to figure out. He fully understood the need to take a break from the research if things were not going the desired way. He had been there himself plenty of times.

The dinner was a quiet affair, though it often was. They took the time to enjoy the food and each other's company after the long days that they each faced. There wasn't a need to fill the silence. It was soothing enough to be sitting across from one another, sharing occasional glances.

It was only after he helped her clean up and they were settled on the couch did he bring what was on his mind up. The new documentary that he wanted to watch would be on in a few minutes so he had a little bit of time before he ended up throwing their normal evening routine off.

"Had a student ask about leukemia today…" Immediately, her head snapped. So quick he actually was worried about her neck. His hand came up off of her shoulder to rub at her neck for a second before dropping back down.

"Why?" Liz knew the answer but needed the confirmation. She didn't like to assume but most high schoolers only asked questions about cancer for a small handful of reasons. All of them were personal. Joey was quiet for a moment.

"Another one was diagnosed with it. One of his friends. He doesn't have too many so I think it's weighing on him more than he realizes. Didn't know much about it and was looking for some answers." He sighed and held her a little closer. "Kid spends lunch in my office daily. He isn't great socially. I think the friendship with the girl is good but I'm worried about the outcome if things don't go well." Liz shifted to face him a little more, rubbing his chest absently.

"I'm sure I have a few articles and a book or two that would be reachable enough to a teenager if you want to offer them. It might help ease his mind, at least understand what is happening a little better. Create some reasonable expectations of what this is going to do to her. In case things don't turn out well. Better to be prepared even if it isn't easy." He had been hoping that was how she would answer. Any sort of help that he could get for Greg, he would. He had seen how the kid was closed in on himself. The fact that he was even asking showed that he cared. Even if he liked to pretend that he didn't.

"That would be perfect. I think Greg will actually take the time to read them. This means more to him than he's letting on."

"It's not an easy concept for anyone to understand, let alone a teenager. If he needs to talk…" She left it open ended, not wanting to seem too forward.

"I'll let you know. I don't see him being the sort that would have any desire to though. He has a hard enough time talking to his peers." Joey sighed and gave her another squeeze. "Thank you." She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Nothing to thank me for." The documentary started and the two quieted down, settling in for a routine night between them.

#my writing #my fic #my oc #Mr. McCarthy #Mr. McCarthy x OC #Elizabeth McCarthy #tw cancer #cancer tw #mentions only #fluff #Jon Bernthal characters

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strawberrymeriadoc · 4 years

Text

Just a little drabble. Merry’s feeling sick and explores his feelings for Pippin a bit.

Merry’s hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure if it comforted him or annoyed him that Peony was just asleep on the kitchen counter like he wasn’t having (what felt like) the biggest crisis of his life. Merry took some medicine to calm down. He reasoned that the throat tightness and pain might have as much to do with anxiety as anything else.

If Merry could do this night over again he probably would have gone to the house of healing over two hours ago when it first started. But he didn’t want to go. He was terrified of doctors and waiting rooms and being called by his deadname and having to try to back pass. Hopefully it just gets better with time, he thought for the tenth time that night. Merry hadn’t bothered Pippin with this nightmare of a situation. He has his own shit to deal with and he would think I was strange to bring this up so suddenly, Merry reasoned. Merry vowed to call his doctor first thing the next day.

Merry tried to calm down but he didn’t know how to be calm. He hadn’t been allowed to growing up. One time in college when he was home for break, he went to take a nap and as soon as he lay down he got in trouble with his mother, for even considering such a thing. Sometimes Merry would read while he ate, but as soon as he was done eating he was told he wasn’t allowed to read anymore. And many times he wasn’t allowed to eat to begin with. Merry’s mother took it as a personal insult if Merry wanted more than his allotted 2 meals a day. And she would yell at him and shame him if he ate anywhere near her because she hated the sound.

Even Jamie had a similar issue. He didn’t begrudge her sensory issues around his eating some foods, but she didn’t have to be so mean about it. He would sometimes be forced to eat in the hallway outside his apartment. As a result, Merry was probably the quietest eater in all of the Westlands though he felt like the loudest.

Merry shook himself out of his thoughts. He really wanted to say goodnight to his friend. But he realized with his pain he couldn’t talk. But still he came out of his room and knocked on Pippin’s door. “Come in,” Pippin called. Merry smiled and waved and showed him the message he had written on his phone:

“I can’t talk because im having a terrible flare up in my throat. Im having a really rough night, could i just sit with you?”

“Sure,” Pippin responded aloud. Merry had planned to sit on the floor, but Pippin motioned for Merry to sit next to him on the bed. Merry felt a small flash of warmth and love. He sat down next to his friend and hesitantly leaned against Pippin’s shoulder. Pippin leaned into him in response.

Merry felt a desire to rest his head on Pippin’s shoulder but he restrained himself. He didn’t think Pippin would approve and Merry couldn’t really talk in order to ask. But maybe I could write another message? No, I’m being weird again, he chastened himself. However, before he could stop himself he wrote: “Could i rest my head on your shoulder?”, sat for a minute worrying about it, and then showed it to his friend. “Uh, yeah” Pippin said.

Merry just felt at home with Pippin. He didn’t want to have sex with him, he wasn’t really sure that romance existed in any way that mattered to him. But he wanted to cuddle Pippin and be close to him and hold his hand. He wanted Pippin to know he cared about him very much. He didn’t know if that still counted as platonic or if it was its own separate thing. Merry had heard of sensual attraction as well as alterous attraction. And something called queerplatonic. Perhaps he was feeling some combination of these things.

Merry leaned his head on Pippin’s left shoulder. He felt a little awkward at first and worried he was making Pippin uncomfortable. But then Pippin leaned his head on Merry’s and the two sat there in silence not doing anything for a while. Then Peony jumped up on Pippin and they both laughed quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Merry woke up to the sun shining through his window. The yellow light burst through in beams that turned the sheets and the wall behind the bed bright white. Merry could hear a few birds chirping.It was around eleven o’clock. Pippin was still asleep on the couch in the living room. His chest rose and fell with his breathing as he dreamed peacefully. Peony was lying in the sun in Pippin’s bedroom. At least someone was making good use of the room.

Outside, Minas Tirith was brimming with life. Merry’s favorite flower shop had been open a few hours and was filled with customers. Its purple and green awning swayed in the breeze. Men of Gondor and Rohan and the occasional dwarf were also streaming in to Pippin’s favorite cafe to try all the different teas and have the bacon and waffles which were especially sought after around brunch time. The occasional student or professor could be seen crossing the campus grounds mainly grad students going to their lab or to the library to work.

Merry sat up in the bed, but he realized he felt rather faint. His throat still hurt tremendously. Let me just try drinking some water, he thought, reaching for the glass by his bed. Merry was starving and he remembered that he hadn’t been able to eat dinner last night because of the pain. Merry was truly sick of all this. He grabbed one of his books that Professor Borormir had assigned and decided to move to the couch in the living room.

He still wasn’t quite awake but he was certainly not going to chance how his throat might react to coffee. He started reading the book as he was walking--he couldn’t wait to dig in from where he had left off. He went down the hallway, across the living room, turned around, and plopped right on to the couch. Now, Merry was expecting the couch to be somewhat firm, but the couch was actually lumpy and hard in some places and squishy and soft in others. Merry let out a yelp and just as he leapt up, the couch shouted “hurrmmppphhh! geeerraaaa!” Merry was even more mortified than he was startled.

“Sorry! Sorry, Pippin!”

“Eru, what was that for?”

“I didn’t see you!”

“Didn’t see me? I’m right here!”

“I know I just...I was reading while I was walking and I’m half asleep”

“Huh, well I’m not asleep anymore, that woke me right up.” Pippin crossed his arms and scowled.

Merry’s face and ears had turned bright red. Pippin had never seen him blush. He wasn’t so much mad as he was surprised but he realized how he had come across.

“Oh Merry…” then he laughed, “It’s alright, you just startled me is all” Merry relaxed. Pippin thought for a moment and realized he was hungry for breakfast.

“Alright, I’m making omelets, want one?” Pippin asked, whisking off into the kitchen. “Thank you. I wish! But I can’t eat,” Merry said sadly. Pippin stopped what he was doing and turned around. “What do you mean you can’t eat?” he demanded. Pippin was used to his friend struggling with food but this had gone too far for his liking. Then Merry explained more about his throat pain that had flared up the night before and how he had attempted to eat a small dinner and that had tremendously backfired. “I just need to wait it out until I can go to the doctor tomorrow afternoon,” he finished.

“I could help you with that if you like!” Pippin offered. Merry didn’t know how to respond. People didn’t really tend to offer to help him. He felt thankful but a bit ashamed, after all, he didn’t want to trouble Pippin. But right now he needed to say something that adequately showed he appreciated the thought even if he didn’t know how to take him up on it.

“Thanks!” he started, “I...uh...just knowing that you’re there for me really helps”.

“Why don’t I make you some soup, you should be able to manage that at least” Merry wasn’t so confident, but he was too famished to care.

“That would be lovely,” Merry replied.

Pippin had noticed that “lovely” was the highest form of praise Merry would give anything. He would use “good”, “great” or even “amazing” and “fantastic”. But none of them meant so much as “lovely”.

After he ate the soup, Merry distracted himself from the pain by running a load of laundry and starting the dishwasher. It also seemed to help his throat to stand up. Then the hobbit went out and stood on the balcony for a while.

The street below was fairly busy. Most people were walking, but a few rode bikes and even fewer rode horses. Then Merry saw coming over the rise a small company of Men on horseback. All the horses were black and the man at the forefront carried a rounded shield. Merry guessed they were Men returning from their shift on patrol on the outskirts of Gondor along the Anduin.

Merry thought about his horse Sorin. Well, not his horse. He supposed they were all Theoden’s. But the one that he rode every week. The hobbit hoped that he would be able to go riding in a few days and that things would clear up.

But, Merry began to feel very hopeless indeed and thought about how much easier things would be if he just ended it all. A much smaller voice in his mind pushed back: It’s just a passing thing. You’ll feel better soon. You don’t want to make a decision that you can’t unmake! Besides, there is good in this world. There is. It’s worth fighting to stay alive for.

But Merry thought about what was really in his life and he didn’t see anything good, certainly nothing that convinced him. He felt truly hopeless. But once back inside, he felt a change. Something about the laundry machine and the dishwasher running quietly in the kitchen calmed him. There’s something good, he mused.

Pippin was still a little flustered from being sat on and then hearing about his friend’s sickness. He had made an omelet with cheese and red peppers in it and enjoyed a cup of green tea and now he was deciding what to wear for the day. He rummaged around in his closet and eventually settled on a white button down shirt with red pants.

This needs a belt, Pippin thought, grabbing a light brown one with an ornate silver buckle. Pippin didn’t have anything to do until his lab started after around dinnertime. I’ve got to get out of here, he thought, maybe there’s a museum or a bookshop I can go to? I wish Frodo and Sam were here, we could all go together. Pippin didn’t want to go alone, but he guessed that Merry would be too sick to go with him. That’s right, he thought, kicking himself, I said that I’d help him.

Pippin was still deciding what to do exactly when he went back into the living room. “You wouldn’t want to go somewhere, would you?” Pippin asked hopefully. Merry, who had been dissociating while standing at the kitchen counter, started. “Aah--what?” he centered himself, “I don’t know. Like where were you thinking?” “Oh I don’t know. Maybe the new bookshop next to campus? It looked pretty cool when I walked by”

Merry frowned. “I’m not sure I can afford any books right now.”

“Hmm, well it’s a second-hand bookshop, so it should be better anyway”

Merry perked up. “Oh I love used bookstores. They always have the weirdest stuff. I like to look at the really obscure books that you kind of can’t believe would ever need to be written or read.”

“Excellent! Well let’s go shall we?”

After Merry quickly got dressed, he said goodbye to Peony and joined his friend by the door. Stepping out into the crisp Autumn air, the two linked arms and walked up the winding side street lined with orange-leaved Plane trees.

#merry brandybuck #pippin took #modernish au #merry x pippin #they have the horses for the aesthetic and they dont like cars for environmental reasons #a hobbit in minas tirith

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jumukus · 4 years

Text

A3! Event: Bridal Concerto Chapter 6-10 Translations

Translations under the cut.

Izumi: (Before we know it, the Wedding Fest day is here already.)

(I ended up getting here late due to all the paperworks I had to fill out… I should hurry and join the others.)

Itaru: Oh, there you are, Director-san.

Izumi: Itaru-san, hello. It must be hard on you, right? You need to help run the event too.

Itaru: Well, yeah. They let me prioritize the performances though, so I'm not that busy.

Izumi: I see… that's great to hear.

I'm glad the weather is nice today, a favorable weather for a festival.

Itaru: Though last night, I heard there would be a sudden rain today. I hope it's wrong.

Izumi: Oh, really? That's surprising, since the sky is so clear now.

Itaru: The others are currently preparing in the dressing room. You can go there first. I'll join you later.

Izumi: Got it. See you later, then.

Citron: You're finally here, Director!

Izumi: Hey guys! Wow, that suit looks good on you, Citron-kun.

Citron: Thanks!

Izumi: So Juza-kun will go on stage in that attire?

Juza: Yeah. Considering the theme I'm assigned to, they said it's best for me to wear this.

Azuma: Fufu, going on stage in a jersey feels somewhat fresh.

Izumi: Huh? Azuma-san, that outfit…

Azuma: Oh you noticed? This is Orin's costume.

Izumi: It's certainly the perfect costume for your role this time.

Azami: It's too impressive, though.

Izumi: The makeup is perfect too. I expected no less from Azami-kun.

Huh? Where's Muku-kun?

Azami: He's receiving an explanation from the staff at a different room now. He said he's gonna return soon.

Izumi: Oh, okay. Is he at the waiting room over there? I'm going to go take a look.

Muku: Hmmm, the dressing room should be over here I believe…

(I still can't believe my costume is a dress…)

Leila: Oh my? Are you perhaps Citronia-sama's…

Muku: Ah… Hello.

Leila: Now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Leila.

Muku: I'm Mu… Kurumi Sakisaka*.

Leila: Nice to meet you, Kurumi-san.

By the way… your dress is so lovely. It suits you so much.

Muku: Ahaha… thank you…

(She seems like a very polite and affable person… Am I really going to compete with this person…)

Leila: ...Just letting you know, I'm not going to hand over Citronia-sama to someone fresh from the country like you.

I've been in love with Citronia-sama much longer than you…

Muku: ...Uhh… can I ask you something?

Leila: What is it?

Muku: How did you meet… Citron-san?

Leila: …

I first met that person…

...And that is why I'm not going to let you win this battle.

Muku: --.

Leila: Oh my, it's about time for the contest.

Let's fight fair and square. See you.

Muku: …

Izumi: Oh, Muku-kun! So you're here!

Muku: Ah… Director-san.

Izumi: I heard you were in the participants' waiting room, so I went there but I didn't find you. It made me wonder if something happened.

Muku: I'm, I'm sorry. I was about to go back to the dressing room, but I got lost halfway.

Izumi: Oh, I see.

Muku: …

Izumi: ...Muku-kun?

Muku: N-No! It's nothing!

Izumi: ?

Juza: ...Muku… Muku?

Muku: Eh?

Ah, what's the matter?

Juza: No, it's just… you've been spacing out. What's up?

Muku: No, it's nothing.

Itaru: It's almost time for us to go onstage. I'll be counting on you all.

Azuma: Okaay.

Citron: Fighting!

Muku: ...

T/N: 1. Instead of 向坂 which is his real family name, Muku used 咲坂 here. Both read Sakisaka.

MC: Let the game begin! We shall open the curtain to the highly-anticipated event, "Best-of Three Bride Contest"!

We have a gorgeous lineup of participants here, such as a guest from that Kingdom of Zahra.

Let's give round of applause to them along with the dresses they adorned in!

*applause*

MC: Now, please welcome the ones who are going to help the participants act out all kinds of situations!

Members of MANKAI Company!

Juza: Hello.

Itaru: It's an honor for me to able to be everyone's co-star.

Azuma: I really can't wait to see how the beautiful brides will correspond to my dialogues.

Spectator A: Chigasaki-san, you're so beautiful…!

Spectator B: That man is sturdy and cool! Damn, I should have participated in the contest.

Spectator C: The one wearing kimono is a guy, right!? He's really pretty…!

Citron: As expected of Itaru! He's really popular among the company's staff members.

Azami: Looks like Juza-san and Azuma-san are gaining popularity too.

Izumi: I'm looking forward to see their performance as the participants' partners.

MC: Let's move on to the first round right away! The situation you're going to act out is…

"Showing appreciation to your husband who has just returned from work"! Your partner for this round will be Chigasaki-san!

Itaru: I'll be in your care.

Spectators: Kyaaa!

Izumi: (What a refreshing smile… That's Itaru-san for you…)

MC: The first contestant for this round will be… our special guest from Zahra Kingdom, Leila-san!

She seems to be really fluent at Japanese, so we sure are wondering what kind of performance she will show us!

Well then, start!

*applause*

MC: Thank you very much! That was a wonderful performance!

Even the spectators are giving nice reaction~.

Azami: Heh… that person did quite a good job.

Izumi: She sure did.

(She carried herself in a regal way despite being on the stage. She has courage…)

MC: Let's move on to the next contestant, Kurumi Sakisaka-san who looks beautiful in dress!

Muku: I-I'll be in your care!

…

Itaru: ...Muku? You good?

Muku: Y-Yes! I'm fine!

MC: Let the performance begin!

Itaru: "I'm home."

Muku: "Welcome home. You must be tired today."

Itaru: "Yeah, thanks."

Muku: "I've prepared your bath, and cooked your favorite pork ginger for dinner tonight."

Itaru: "Really? Just when I wanted to eat that… Thanks, I'm happy."

Muku: "You've been busy with work these days, after all… I'm sure you'll feel better if you eat a lot."

"Fufu, I've prepared some desserts too. Look forward to it, 'kay?"

Spectator A: That was so cute and healing!

Spectator B: I like how she gives off the vibe of an affectionate and devoted wife!

MC: Oooh! She got such a high score, even surpassing Leila-san's score!

Looks like Kurumi-san's classic response is getting good reviews!

Azami: Nice, it seems like... we're receiving high opinions for now.

Citron: We don't have to worry about Itaru's performance too~.

Izumi: Yup, I'm glad that we could get a high score. But…

(Is it just me or is Muku-kun not being his usual self today…)

MC: Alright, the next situation you're going to act out is…

"A way to dodge mother-in-law's cutting remarks well"!!

The one who's going to be your partner for this round is by no means this person!

Azuma: Fufu, pleasure to working with you.

MC: I'm looking forward to see his performance as mother-in-law~.

Now, please welcome our first bride for this round!

*applause*

MC: That was amazing! Coming from the Kingdom of Zahra, Leila-san managed to receive such a high score with her impressive manner!

She's currently taking the top spot!

Spectator A: It was so beautiful and cool!

Spectator B: Totally! I don't know whether I was unconsciously enchanted by them, or I just couldn't take my eyes off them!

Azami: They took a strong interest in Azuma-san's performance…

Izumi: I expected no less from him…

MC: Our next bride will be Kurumi Sakisaka-san!

Azuma: Good luck, Muku.

Muku: Y-Yes…!

MC: Well then, start!

Azuma: "Oh my… do you have a moment, Kurumi-san?"

Muku: "Y-Yes, mother."

Azuma: "Isn't the flavor of this miso soup… too strong? You cut the ingredients way too big, and they look messy now."

Muku: "I-I apologize…! I'll be careful next time…"

Azuma: "And just letting you know, I feel like you're doing a sloppy job in cleaning the corridor."

"There's still dust remaining in the corner. Can you even clean a room?"

Muku: "My apologies… I'll clean more carefully and thoroughly next time."

"I'm… really hopeless when it comes to cleaning and cooking, huh. I truly am just a worthless cloud of dust…"

MC: Hmmm, even though our bride showed realism in how she felt small under her mother-in-law…

Unfortunately, it did not leave a nice impression to the spectators and therefore she didn't receive a good score.

Muku: --.

Azami: Muku-san doesn't look too good.

Izumi: Yeah… I wonder if he's all right…

(Leila-san scored much higher in this round. We'll lose if we can't turn the tables in the next round…)

Citron: …

Azami: Putting that aside… It's getting darker here all of sudden.

Izumi: Yeah… I have a bad feeling about this.

*rain pours down*

Azami: Whoa, it's raining.

Citron: Come here, Director, Azami. You'll get wet.

MC: Our apologies! Due to the heavy rain, we're going to halt the contest!

To all the participants, please exit the stage and go inside the building!

Izumi: I'm worried about Muku-kun. Let's go meet the others at the dressing room.

Azami: Yeah.

Itaru: Seems like it's just a temporary evening rain. We're gonna continue once it stops raining.

Juza: Okay.

Muku: ...Sorry!

I didn't do well in the last round... so we couldn't get a high score….

Itaru: Well, it's fine. There's no way one would not be nervous in a contest.

Azami: Not to mention Azuma-san's performance as mother-in-law was too realistic.

Citron: It was truly amazing!

Azuma: Fufu, I'm so happy to hear that.

Izumi: But… I do think you don't look too good today, Muku-kun. Did something happen?

Muku: The truth is… I exchanged some words with Leila-san before going on stage.

Leila: ...I once went to the Zahra palace during childhood. The palace is just so big I ended up getting lost.

At that time, the one who found me, pulled my hand and played with me was… Citronia-sama.

After playing in the palace together, he made a beautiful bouquet of Jasmine and gave it to me.

I had a lot of fun being with him due to his kindness, and I was so happy when he gave me that bouquet.

I just couldn't forget about Citronia-sama even after several years have passed, so I decided to personally come forward as his fiancee candidate.

Muku: So that's what happened…

Leila: In order to become his bride, I've been attending marriage preparation class, but I never had the chance to meet him afterward…

Then, Citronia-sama went to Japan.

Even though he's now in a faraway country and is no longer in line for the throne, my feelings for him haven't changed.

I love Citronia-sama.

...And that is why I'm not going to let you win this battle.

Let's fight fair and square. See you.

Muku: …

Citron: --.

Muku: ...It was a very beautiful story.

I was like, "I couldn't believe the story that usually happens in shoujo mangas and drama series happened in real life too…"

But when I thought such a thing, I started to feel conflicted whether or not I was doing the right thing…

Izumi: I see… so that's why you couldn't concentrate on your acting.

Muku: However… If I end up losing in the next round, Citron-sama may be returning to his country.

I absolutely can't let that happen.

Besides, it's rude of me to fight Leila-san half-heartedly like this.

For that very reason… I will not make the same mistake again. I will perform my part perfectly for sure!

Citron: Muku…

Muku: I'm sorry. I was the one who accepted the challenge, but I ended up feeling lost.

Citron: ...Don't sweat it.

In the first place, it was my fault that you all got involved in my problem.

But you all helped me… I'm very happy to know that Muku and you guys were willing to cooperate.

Muku is a really good kid, huh, you even considered your opponent's feelings.

Muku: Citron-sama…

Citron: Besides, I remember something thanks to Muku!

Muku: Eh? What is it--.

*knocks*

Staff: Excuse my intrusion. We're going to resume the contest since the rain has stopped. Please get ready.

Azuma: The rain really did stop fast.

Juza: Muku, can you go?

Muku: Yes!

Itaru: I think you should also stand by on the stage with us, Citron. Your turn is about to come, after all.

Citron: Okey dokey!

...I'm counting on you, Muku.

Muku: ...Leave it to me!

MC: Now, since the rain has stopped, we shall resume the competition!

This advance of evening surely provides the right atmosphere for the climax…!

I shall announce the last theme…

It's "Nursing your sick husband"! He's the one who will play the husband!

Juza: I'll be in your care.

MC: Without further ado, let's begin the first performance!

*applause*

Spectator A: That was good~. It was like you were nursed by your kind wife.

Spectator B: IKR!

MC: I expected no less from Leila-san! With her consistent delivery, she received another high score!

Azami: Her score is really high. Do we have to surpass it...

Izumi: Yes. I'm sure Muku-kun can do it…!

MC: Last but not least, the one who will grace this competition is… Kurumi Sakisaka-san! The time is yours!

Muku: "Are you okay? Your fever has gone down a lot, but…"

Juza: "Yeah. Sorry for causing you troubles."

Muku: "Don't say that. ...Here, I made some rice porridge for you. Can you eat?"

Juza: "Thanks."

Muku: "This is a special porridge, you know. I put in eggs, natto, small fish, yogurt, cheese, aojiru*, chilli peppers, pork, citrus and apple. It's very nutritious!"

Juza: "What!?"

Muku: "Now, eat it…! You will be reborn as Super Great Man if you eat this porridge…!"

"Juuust kidding. Fufufu, I'm just joking! But it's truly nutritious."

Juza: "Jeez… It was funny, though."

Muku: "It's still hot so be careful, okay? Fu… fu… alright, aaahn. open your mouth."

Juza: "T-Thank you, but I can eat it myself."

Muku: "No need to hold back. You can act spoiled at times like this."

"Besides, you always work hard… I want to be of help to you."

Spectator A: I feel warm inside…! Her mischievous side is also cute!!

Izumi: (That was a very Muku-kun-like performance. Even the audience's response was great. I'm sure we can win at this rate…)

*applause*

MC: Now that all contestants have delivered their performances, let's see the accumulated score!

Receiving the highest score among the contestants, the winner of this contest is…

Kurumi Sakisaka! Congratulations!!

*cheers*

Izumi: Thank goodness… Congrats, Muku-kun!

Azami: Nice! As expected of Muku-san.

Muku: --.

...Thank you so much!

MC: Now... let's welcome MANKAI Company's Citron-san, who will escort our winner Kurumi Sakisaka-san.

Muku: …

Citron: ...Please come this way, Muku.

Muku: ...Yes. Thank you, Citron-sama.

Citron: Me too. Thank you.

I shall escort you perfectly, princess.

T/N: 1. Aojiru is a Japanese vegetable drink most commonly made from kale or young barley grass.

MC: We are now preparing for the ending ceremony! To those who are expected to appear--.

Leila: …

Citron: ...I want you to wait.

Leila: ...Why?

I have fought fair and square and lost. I will not approach you anymore.

I will also give you the reward money.

Citron: << No… I don't need the reward. I just wanted to talk with you. >>

Leila: << Eh--. >>

Citron: << You're that little boy from before, right? >>

Leila: << ...So you remember? >>

Citron: << Yes. I couldn't tell at first since your appearance has changed so much. >>

<< I've never thought we will meet again in this way. But I'm glad. >>

Leila: << ...If you said so, maybe coming here was worth it. >>

Citron: << From the start, you never intended to bring me back to Zahra, right? >>

Leila: << ...I just wanted to bother Citronia-sama for a bit. >>

<< In order to be your fiance candidate alone, I crossed the gender boundaries and attended marriage preparation class--. >>

<< The person in question will absolutely not meet me, after all. >>

Citron: << That… I'm sorry. >>

Leila: << But I could see the results of that through this match... >>

<< Thank you for going along with my futile effort. I've made up my mind now. >>

<< And please pass on my apology to that girl… I mean, boy. I think I might tease him a little bit too much. >>

Citron: << Huh? So you noticed it? >>

Muku: --Ah, Citron-sama! It's about time.. ah.

Leila: Oh my--.

Muku: Eh, uh… My, my apologies! I'm actually a boy…!

Uhh… I'm sorry for seemingly tricking you!

Leila: …No matter what your reason and circumstance were, I still lost to you. I don't intend on saying anything now.

And thank you for fighting me fair and square.

Muku: Leila-san…

Citron: ...Me and my precious friends are going to perform a play after this. If possible, I want you to watch it.

Muku: That's right! Please watch it!

...Oh, Citron-sama! It's about to begin!

Citron: Oh, you're right! Let's go, Muku!

Muku: My real name is Muku Sakisaka!

I'll do my best for the performance! We'll be waiting for you!

Leila: …

Itaru: Ah, they're here.

Citron: Sorry for making you wait.

Izumi: Are you ready, guys?

Juza: Yeah.

Azuma: Me too.

Azami: Alright, let's go.

Muku: Umm!

I'm sorry for bringing this up just before showtime, but there's something I want to do…

Izumi: ?

Azami: "This is my first time coming to a wedding fair, but I'm glad I could experience many things."

Juza: "Agree. We could wear this kind of tuxedo and get to know things like the ceremony, the direction and the food."

Azuma: "We're able to picture our own ceremony."

Muku: "Yup, it feels like our horizons has widened."

Itaru: "Say, what kind of wedding do you want to have, guys? Like, the direction you want to go."

Citron: "I want to know too. I want to gather references."

Azuma: "Since I'm a cook, I want to treat the guests to my own cooking at the reception."

"My girlfriend also likes cooking, you see. I think it'd be nice if we can cook together and share the first bite."

Juza: "Damn, that sounds awesome."

Muku: "It's really beautiful! I'm sure the ceremony will be exciting and lively!"

Azami: "I'm doing martial arts, so I think it'll be nice if me and my friends perform a martial arts demonstration during the wedding."

Itaru: "Why don't you create a story in which you save the bride, then?"

Citron: "I'm all for that! When the bad guys appear like this, you will protect the bride behind your back…"

Azami: "Haa! Take this!"

Azuma: "So cool…! I'm sure the bride will fall in love with you more."

Azami: "How about you? What kind of wedding do you want to have?"

Juza: "My hobby is drawing. That's why, I want to go all out and make the welcome board myself."

Muku: "That sounds great. The board that was displayed today was adorable too. I like it."

Citron: "Besides, it can be a good memento. It sure makes you want to cherish it forever."

Azuma: "How about you? Do you have any image of your wedding in mind?"

Itaru: "After giving it much thought, I do want to ride limousine at my wedding."

Muku: "Limousine!"

Itaru: "I also think it'll be nice to have a wedding overseas. Reserving an amusement park or planetarium sounds great too."

Azami: "Wow, that seems gorgeous…"

Juza: "But it will be an unforgettable wedding for sure."

Azuma: "It feels kind of romantic to have your wedding at unusual places. I think the guests will have a great time too."

Citron: "As for me, I want to perform a rendition at my wedding, since I like singing and dancing. Just like this."

"♪~♪~"

"Then I will extend my hand in front of the bride and say this: May I have this dance?"

Itaru: "That's not fair. It's too cool."

Muku: "I feel like even those who watch it will have butterflies in their stomachs…!"

Azami: "That'll be like a scene in a movie."

Juza: "How about you, then? What kind of wedding ceremony do you want to hold?"

Muku: "As for me…"

"I want to present the bride a flower bouquet."

Itaru: "A flower bouquet?"

Muku: "Yes. The truth is, my girlfriend is my childhood friend. She has loved flowers ever since she was a child."

"She's always pleased with the wild flowers bouquet I made…"

Azami: "Ooh.. what's with that heartthrobing episode?"

Muku: "Hehe. There was also a time when we couldn't meet ever since I moved to another city."

"Even though we were apart, my girlfriend has always been supporting me."

"My girlfriend is also a hardworking person, you see. That part of her is so charming and cool."

"I want to give her a fragrant, white flowers bouquet that will suit her dignified appearance in the wedding dress."

Azuma: "How lovely…!"

Juza: "I agree. I'm sure your girlfriend will be happy."

*applause*

Izumi: Good job, guys!

Azami: Nice work. We did well in the changed part.

Azuma: Yup. I'm glad the audience was enjoying it too.

Itaru: Thanks so much for today, guys. Let's change our clothes now…

Leila: …

Juza: --.

Muku: Ah…

Izumi: Leila-san…

Muku: Did you watch it?

Leila: Yes. ...It was so beautiful. Both Citronia-sama and the others.

Especially you, Muku-san… I was drawn in your acting. I was deeply moved.

I HAVE BECOME... YOUR FAN!

Izumi: Eh!?

Leila: Muku-san, would you like to come to Zahra with me? Don't worry, I'll provide for you.

Muku: E-Eh…!?

Juza: ...Sorry, but we can't allow that.

Izumi: Leila-san, calm down!

Itaru: I can't believe she just switched from Citron to Muku.

Azami: Is this really happening?

Azuma: Fufu, that was surprising.

Citron: Oh! What kind of development is this!?

< Chapter 1-5 | Masterlist | Epilogue >

#a3!#a3! translation #spring troupe #summer troupe #autumn troupe #winter troupe #muku sakisaka #itaru chigasaki #citron #juza hyodo #azami izumida #azuma yukishiro

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ardent-musings · 3 years

Text

The Girl Who Vanished (Part 1)

Chapter 22: The Toothless Lion and the Jaded Snake

A month had gone by since her discussion with the twins in the owlery and the boys kept their promise. Multiple times their breakfast would be interrupted by the Slytherin captain throwing up his meal, or he would enter the common room with a new hair color. It seemed like it was something new every other day and the boy was distraught. He was no longer boastful as he walked through the halls, but he would silently glare at anyone and anything as he heaved and grumbled about. It was beautiful. And Ana would have the Weasley boys to thank.

Aeron had finally perked up; once he noticed that no one, not even Alex was trying to kick him out of the group, he beamed with appreciation. Also, the sight of his enemy crawling across the floor because he had been hit by the Jelly-Legs Jinx was hard to not laugh at. That was all she wanted. She wanted the boy who had hid himself for months to break out of his shell. And he was.

The four of them were sitting together in Herbology; Aeron and Ana together while Alex was with Calista. Professor Sprout looked as warm as ever underneath her large hat while she smiled softly at the girl she had grown to care deeply for. It was unusual for her to have a student such as Ana, and that only made the day even more splendid for the grayed witch.

The class went over the medicinal Fluxweed plant; another plant that Ana's mother grew year round in their garden. It was a key ingredient in her medicine, so Ana had grown very familiar with the common weed. She spent an hour planting and watering for both her and Aeron, who refused to get his hands messy; though Ana didn't mind. Aeron kept her company well enough as he began talking about some old revolution they had learned in their last history lesson. The course material was yawn-worthy and yet the budding boy had a way of making it interesting. After laughing with Aeron until the end of their lesson, she was starving and only had dinner on her mind. As soon as class ended she was already chatting with Alex about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts when the kind voice of her professor called for her. Without hesitating, Ana gallivanted towards her favorite teacher with glee, encouraging her friends to go on without her.

"It's good to see you in such a good mood, Ana. I'm assuming that the sleeping potion has been helping?" The woman hummed as she held one of the young girl's hands in between both of her own. Ana's nose scrunched happily and she nodded in return. "Good. Very good."

Ana wasn't sure why she was called over, but this alone time with Professor Sprout was nice. The sun was no longer as hot as it had been an hour earlier and the sky was turning into a beautiful watercolor of pinks and yellows. Two colors that she associated with Professor Sprout.

"Well I called you because I want to invite you to the greenhouse after dinner!" She sang softly with shimmering eyes. "I have someone I'd like for you to meet, dear. Would you care for a visit?"

The young witch couldn't imagine turning down Sprout's invitation, it would be a crime to decline. Since her first year the head of Hufflepuff had shown her more care and concern than her own head of house. Snape wasn't horrible, but goodness, he was no Professor Sprout. Snape was kind if he had to be, Sprout was kind because that was just who she was by nature.

"Of course Professor! I'd love to meet them," she smiled from ear to ear, positively glowing with the prospect of meeting someone who had the woman so enthralled. With a charming smile, Sprout beamed at the young girl before sending Ana off to eat.

Dinner went by in a breeze, and Ana couldn't help but bounce with happiness in her seat as she tried guessing who she was going to meet. Perhaps it would be the twins' brother Ron, or maybe even the boy who lived. Regardless, Ana was just excited to spend even more time with her favorite teacher. She practically scarfed down her strawberries and soup, which worried Lucian; he feared she was going to choke. Ana blurted to her friends that she was going to be elsewhere after dinner, and all four of her friends found it bizarre how excited she was to sit among the dirt again, but it made her happy. So it made them happy.

The sight of Ana gleaming and buzzing with joy also made another onlooker happy, although he would never admit it. He couldn't. At least not yet.

After eating as much as she could, Ana gave her quickest yet sincerest goodbyes as she went straight from the Great Hall to the greenhouses. It wasn't unusual for her to frequent the greenhouses after dinner, but now she would have another person to talk to.

Ana entered the glass structure and noticed that it had been untouched since her class; Professor Sprout must still be at dinner, she assumed. It was wonderfully silent, the plants went about their business as she sat patiently, enjoying the stillness of it all. The air was warm yet light, her breathing always seemed to cycle more evenly when she was among all the greenery. It was a safe place for her.

A crash sounded from behind her, and she swiveled in her seat to see a younger blushy boy bend over to pick up a broken flower pot. Thankfully it was empty so there were no plant deaths to mourn, but the accident did break the young girl out of her moment of appreciation.

"Sorry, I didn't me- did I- did I scare you?" he gulped as he noticed just how composed the girl in front of him was. She didn't look angry, but she didn't look happy. It seemed to him like she was just simply there. Like how air just simply exists, quiet yet still. And he came in bumbling and unbalanced.

"You didn't scare me. I've knocked that pot over too many times to count last year. I keep suggesting to Professor Sprout that we move it, but she insists it stay there," she greeted him with a welcoming smile which almost threw the boy off balance again given her green robes. "Reparo" she fixed the pot as quickly as it broke.

He wobbled over to her with one arm slung in a bandage, muttering a quiet thanks as he kept his gaze on his shoes which were untied, but he didn't dare move to fix them. The girl in front of him might judge him. Every millisecond of silence made the boy wish that Professor Sprout was with them already, just to kill the awkwardness. Conversely, Ana was just happy to have company.

"I'm Ana," she said gently, trying to gauge the younger boy's nervousness, he still refused to look her in the eyes. This wasn't exactly how she thought this evening would go, but Ana trusted Professor Sprout's judgement of the boy; who apparently was a Gryffindor based on his red tie. "So you were sorted into Gryffindor? That's pretty cool."

The little lion was surprised that a Slytherin was talking to her, he was scared of the Slytherins in his year and once he saw her green robes he had almost turned and walked away altogether. It wasn't even that the girl was innately scary, he was just scared of most things.

"I don't feel like a Gryffindor,' Ana was surprised the boy would reveal something he was insecure about so easily, but she let him continue, "maybe if I was a to-toothless lion it'd make more sense."

She nodded her head slowly, he just needed some encouragement, "I don't know about that. Everyone starts out without teeth, but they come in eventually."

For the first time in the whole night, the stuttering boy looked her in the eyes where a tiny twinkle resided in his wide brown ones. It was a tiny success, but it was progress, Ana reveled. A decent amount of time went by and the head of Hufflepuff had yet to join them, so Ana decided to grab her Fluxweed plant from a few hours earlier and she began to instruct the boy on what it did and how to take care of it. The green plant nearly matched the ill look on the boy's face when he first walked in. It took a bit of time, but soon the boy was asking questions; he stumbled over his words but he had the courage to utter them still.

He was astounded by the gentle girl who would smile at him patiently whenever he had a random or obscure question about the plant. She took it in stride and answered every inquiry to the best of her ability and he began to enjoy his time. No longer were his palms sweaty or his knees wobbly in fear, he even let out a chuckle when a neighboring plant began hiccupping. Ana celebrated in his laugh and smiled back at him.

It was the first of many laughs and smiles they would share that night.

"Ana! Stop! I don't need any more water!" He choked on his laughter as she began spritzing his dark hair with a water bottle; his arms flailed as he tried to escape the mist. Ana covered her grinning aching face in her hands, it had been a long time since she laughed so hard. The boy's larger front teeth poked out as he bellowed loudly at the girl.

"I'm trying to help you grow!"

"Well, well, well, look at my two favorite students," a whimsical voice said from the entrance of the greenhouses, "I had a feeling you two would get along."

The two students nodded enthusiastically as Professor Sprout joined them at the benches they were perched at; the soles of their hands were covered in dirt but their smiles never faded. During their time of getting to know each other and mucking around, they hadn't even noticed, even through the transparent walls of the greenhouse that the sky had turned pitch black.

"Neville, I'm sorry. There was a meeting for all the heads of houses, but I'm glad to see you, hun," the woman offered the boy a smile; the kind that Ana had received on more than one occasion. Neville glowed at the welcome. "Unfortunately, it is late so maybe we should do this again another day, yes?"

Begrudgingly, the two students agreed, finding it too dark out to escape getting caught by Filch. They had to go their separate ways to their own common rooms, but they mirrored happy smiles at the thought of spending more time together.

~ Quidditch tryouts were absolutely excruciating, the whole time Flint was in a horrific mood since most of the time he was throwing up slugs from fifty feet in the air. For a split second she felt bad for the captain, but then she peered over to where Aeron was sitting with Calista on the stands. Aeron was a bit nervous at the idea of returning to the pitch, but he ultimately decided to support both Ana and Alex as long as Calista was with him. Aeron was there for her, and Ana knew she would return the favor for the boy. Always.

Thankfully, his skin had improved tremendously since she had begun making healing potions in her down time for him in exchange for his tutoring. It took some convincing for the boy to agree to the deal, but in the end, there was no stopping Ana when she wanted to help him heal from something Flint started.

Ana and Alex were the only two going for the singular chaser position since the last player graduated the previous year. They were put through drill after drill, while Lucian and Derrick swatted the bludgers their way as they furiously tried to score against Miles Bletchley. It was tougher than any flying session Ana had done with Draco over the past few years, but the sting of the cool morning air kept her on high alert. She had always chased after Draco who was incredibly fast on a broom and that practice came out during her tryouts.

Being on the ground, on her unsteady two feet meant that Ana toppled over quite a bit. Flying was an entirely different story; she couldn't trip on air, she could only soar. Draco knew this, and he smiled up at his sister from his place in the stands, there was no way he was going to miss his sister's attempt to get on the team. It would be a big deal to the family if she were to make it as a second year. He didn't want to put that pressure on his sisters, so he hid his nervousness behind his cheers of support.

It had been a few hours until the very ill Marcus Flint called it a day. He had been vomiting on and off the whole time and at some point the sun grew stronger which made the situation even nastier. The final line up for the team was going to take a few days to deliberate so all the Slytherins made their way to the Great Hall to fill up on a well-deserved lunch.

Ana was positively starving, almost matching the ferocity at which Alex typically ate her lunch. Aeron and Calista were discussing both muggle and wizarding history, comparing and contrasting the two, while Lucian talked to Derrick about who would possibly fill the seeker position that Gryffindor needed to fill since Charlie Weasley had graduated. Ana was happy to be in her little bubble as she filled herself on fresh strawberries and as much pasta as she could stomach.

Draco walked into the Great Hall and Ana all but yelled for her brother to join her. He smiled when he saw her, his feet pulling him to his sister until his dorm mates, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other boys grabbed him by his elbows and directed him out of the hall. One of the boys that joined her brother was Marcus Flint and all Ana could see was red. She hated that Flint had for some reason decided to become chummy with a boy that was five years younger than him. All she wanted was to rip the two away from each other and unfortunately she knew she couldn't. Showing any resentment towards the captain would be a sure fire way for her to not get picked for the team.

Lucian noticed the fury behind her eyes, "You alright, Ana?" he smiled as he poured another helping of strawberries on her plate. Ana's furiousness lessened at the boy's thoughtful offering and nodded with little conviction. She wasn't okay with anything that was happening, but she was for damn sure going to keep an eye on it.

After the intense tryouts, dinner, and showers, the group laid around the common room to relax. Calista was sitting on the floor at Alex's feet while she excitedly explained the plot of a movie The Karate Kid. Everyone listened to her recall the most interesting part of the movie, Aeron seemed to take the most notice; his eyes glowed at the story of the boy who learned how to stand up for himself. Ana had to admit, it sounded like a fun movie, she just lamented the fact that she'd probably never get to watch it.

Lucian and Ana sat next to each other on a different couch, taking breaks to talk to each other about the Quidditch tryouts and then returning their attention to Calista. Ana was finally relaxing at the sound of the crackling fire and her little family around her. Her head was nestled on one of the arm rests, trying her hardest to stay awake to enjoy their down time together. Despite how much she wanted to soak in the sound of Calista's excited voice, Ana's eyes began to grow heavy the longer she laid there, the feeling only growing worse after Lucian draped a blanket over her shivering body.

A loud wallop of boys' screaming disturbed her little nap and the group grew silent as Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint came charging into the common room. It made Ana cringe, seeing the fifth year running around with a bunch of eleven year olds; his uneven facial hair made him stick out like a sore thumb. Flint had been hanging with the group so much, to the point where Ana noticed that Draco hardly talked to her. It made her sad to remember how excited her little brother was last year about coming to Hogwarts; he always talked about doing things together and that had yet to happen.

The four of them bumbled towards the group, which made Aeron and Alex turn to them defensively, their chests puffed out as if they were anticipating some sort of confrontation. Flint focused on the two of them with a sneer that making Ana sit up tiredly: holding her blanket up to her for comfort.

Draco was at the front of the pack which confused Ana, she assumed that Flint would be doing the talking for all of them given he was two years short of graduating.

"When are you going to bed?" the little blond boy asked in a tone that didn't sound like him; it came out far more pompous than ever before. Ana was confused at the sound and the question. He had never cared about the time at which she went to sleep, most times he fell asleep before she did.

"Uh, I'm not sure, whenever I'm tired," she answered kindly, trying to keep the mood light like they usually were when she talked to her brother. "Why do you ask?"

Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind Draco while Flint smirked grotesquely at the group; Ana's face fell at their odd behaviors. At this point all five of them had the entirety of their focus on the four newcomers.

Draco smirked at his older sister, looking almost too sweet. "No reason. Just thought you looked tired."

That was a lie. It was a flat out lie. This was not like Draco. Usually, Ana would stumble upon her brother drooling on his pillow rather early in the night. When he was done for the night he would ignore everyone and pass out. Her stomach twisted at the persona her brother was putting on. He wasn't himself. He was acting like their father, which terrified her.

"She looks tired because that's what happens when you spend your whole morning trying out for the Quidditch team," Alex's statement came out with a bit of acidity to it, her body situated between the boys and the rest of the group.

"I know, I was watching, Bole," Draco quipped back sharply, which alarmed Ana.

The soft and cushy couch was abandoned once he replied to her friend like that; Ana stood up and pulled Draco away from the boys who glared at her scathingly. Thankfully, Draco didn't dismiss Ana, allowing her to take him by the elbow and away from any curious ears.

"Draco are you okay?"

"Of course I am. What would make you think something's wrong?"

Once again, he sounded like he was trying to be convincing, unfortunately for the young boy he was horrible at lying to her. He over-performed everything he did, which made his lying so blaringly obvious to the girl. She figured if he was going to lie to anyone, he would have to get better at it.

"Come on, you know that I can tell when you are off. What's going on?"

Draco was going to comment something until Alex had begun shouting at Flint; she jumped up from the couch and had the Quidditch captain's collar firmly in her grasp. It all happened in the blink of an eye; Lucian was trying to pull his sister off the oldest boy. Meanwhile, Aeron was rubbing at Calista's shoulder softly as he yelled at Crabbe and Goyle with unparalleled wrath.

Before Ana could do anything, Draco darted away from his sister and ran up the stairs into the boy's dorms. She groaned at the boy's getaway and ran over to the fighting group to try and break it up. Lucian had finally gotten Alex off Flint who, after a day of throwing up on the Quidditch pitch, now had a giant scratch down his face that was bleeding. Ana knew she should feel bad for the boy's pain, but she didn't. There was no room in her chest for any sympathy towards Flint.

As soon as Ana rejoined the group, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint ran around the girl to follow in Draco's steps, leaving them all confused and angry. But unfortunately they left one of them in tears.

"What the in the world just happened?" Ana cried as she surveyed the damage.

Alex's face was scarlet red, still huffing and puffing from attacking the Quidditch captain. In her steady arms was Calista who was quietly sobbing, her shoulders trembled as a new wave of tears escaped. Aeron and Lucian's complexions matched Alex's; they were splotchy red with anger and adrenaline, which was the total opposite of the weeping girl.

When no one answered her question, Ana decided she'd try her luck with just talking to the beater.

Lucian sat down, watching Ana as she wrapped the blanket she was just using around Calista. He gloomily smiled at her small act of kindness and looked up at her with sadness in his eyes.

"They called Calista, something horrible," he mumbled, looking disgusted as he spoke. He didn't want Calista to hear him so he lowered his voice even more, "They called her something you should never call a muggle born." Lucian's eyebrows rose, hoping Ana could insinuate what he was trying to hint at.

Her once shivering body now filled with a simmering fire, Ana's face grew stiff and serious at the admission. She now understood why Alex was so angry.

As a child, her father said the term all the time and her mother would always remind her that it was not something she was to repeat. It was vile and cruel, even for a pureblood wizard to say. That knowledge made her only despise her brother's friends even more. They reminded her of the one person she hated returning to in the summer months.

Seeing their effect on her muggle born friend made her sick. And yet, she knew that Draco wasn't planning on getting rid of them anytime soon.

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x oc #bibiana malfoy #the girl who vanished #tgwv #tgwv 1-22 #enemies to friends to lovers

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rtpendragon · 4 years

Text

I CAN'T WAIT → ARTELLE

TAGGING → Artie Pendragon & Elle Charming ( @ellecharming )

TIMELINE → October 31, 2020

SETTING → Elle’s dorm at ASU campus

SUMMARY → After a fun and fidgety night at the Halloween Ball, Elle has a special surprise for Artie including a song and a ring.

Walking hand in hand with Elle back to her dorm after the ball was such a nice end to a long day. Truthfully, Artie was a little bit tired as he usually was this late at night, but it was hard to feel too exhausted when in the company of his extraordinarily exuberant girlfriend. Her exuberance had been at an all-time-high tonight at the ball and maybe that was another reason he felt a little bit more tired than he'd been expecting; he loved her exuberance, and it was highly endearing, but it also did make him feel a bit old sometimes, compared to her.

He felt old compared to most of his classmates though and at least Elle made him feel a lot of other things, like joy and excitement. She was the kind of girl that made him want to write sonnets. And she looked even more beautiful tonight than usual, in her blue dress. It wasn't what he'd been expecting when they'd finalized their costume choices, and it made him wish he'd ordered a costume from later in the Princess Bride as well, but he couldn't be too upset when she looked as amazing as she did.

"Well, thank you, my lady, for this incredible day," Artie sighed as they stopped in front of her rooms. He took her hand and raised it to his lips to kiss it. "This has been my favorite Halloween ever." He smiled at her and leaned in to press a soft kiss against her lips as a way of saying thank you and good night. Kissing Elle had been such an unexpected perk of this year but it was so nice, he loved getting a peck or two any chance he got.

Elle let out the most idiotic giggle as Artie kissed her, usually she managed to not be so aggressively stupid with him but she'd been so nervous all day about finally proposing to him that she'd been ten times more hyper and weird than usual. Luckily Artie hadn't seemed to notice how off she was behaving so hopefully she'd be able to pull this off without irritating him too badly.

"Mine too!" She echoed, trying to stifle her laughter for long enough to finish a sentence. "Wanna come in for a sec tho? I want to show you something!" Ordinarily Elle would've never been able to ask something like that without coming off overly suggestive, but she was so bouncy and jittery that she actually managed to say it like she was truly just trying to show him something cool she was keeping in her dorm.

Elle was probably tired too, Artie thought as he pulled back from the kiss with a smile. She was always hyper but today had been something else -- maybe she just got loopy from not getting enough sleep like he did sometimes. He almost wanted to ask if he could sleep over but didn't want to risk coming across as suggestive and so he smiled at her, prepared to say good night and walk off when she requested more time.

"Oh?" he asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. For a moment he wondered if Elle was going to try to get more than just a kiss tonight but that wasn't the mood he was picking up from her. It felt more like if he went inside with her, he would find a secret carnival with endless sweets and lights and music, or an ancient lost civilization, or some other equally incredible thing. Whatever the case, she looked so excited that saying no would likely crush her spirit and he couldn't have that. He decided to answer in character, bowing a bit and saying "As you wish" with a smile, giving her his hand to lead to way.

Elle's face managed to light up even more as he answered her request in character and she quickly kissed him again, a little harder this time, before opening the door to her dorm.

The room was a lot cleaner than usual, not that it was ever really dirty or gross but Elle tended to thrive best in a little bit of chaos and her room was a reflection of that. But after two days of hardwork, it was absolutely spotless, with the exception of the trail of orange leaves she'd spread out all along the floor, about 40 electric candles spread haphazardly around the room and the puddle of melted ice dripping from the desk where she'd left a (thankfully closed) bottle of champagne to "chill".

"Sit here okay!" Elle ordered Artie, as she led him to a couch, pretending like absolutely nothing unusual was set up in her room. "I just have to get my guitar out of the closet but feel free to make yourself comfortable, okay!?"

Artie was still seeing stars from the kiss when they entered Elle's dorm so it took him a few seconds to notice that the room looked any different but once he did, he was shocked. Elle was more of a messy bessy than he was but the space was practically perfect.

"What...?" The word escaped him softly as a question as he took in his surroundings, and his eyes twinkled with wonder as they met Elle's. Was the cool thing that she wanted to show him that she cleaned her room? Because that was very cool and well worth the extra minutes before heading home to sleep. Or perhaps that she'd hired a maid, which would be less cool but still interesting.

But then she ordered him to sit and he did so immediately, and she said she was fetching her guitar, and with an "Okay!", he thought he was finally starting to put pieces together. She must have written a song she wanted to show him. She would play and he would tell her that he loved it, and they'd miss and it would feel amazing. He'd taken off the mask that came with his costume earlier but his hair still felt matted down so he fluffed it for a moment before sitting on his hands and waiting to see whatever song Elle had in store for him.

Even though Elle was pretending that there wasn't anything different about her room, she couldn't help but feel like Artie was underreacting to the set up, setting up all those candles and leaves had been hard and they couldn't both pretend like they weren't there! But still Elle refused to let herself be distracted as she pulled her guitar out of her closet and discreetly checked to make sure the ring box was still taped to the back of it.

"Dear Artie Uther Pendragon," Elle started, as she struggled to get down on one knee with both a guitar and a long fancy dress getting in her way. "I kind of wanted to do like a whole speech about how great and awesome you are, because like duh you always need to hear that. But it turns out that I like...suck at putting all the right words together to describe how much you and our relationship means to me? So instead I just looked up songs that get the point across instead! I hope that's okay."

Elle managed to get herself settled into a good singing/proposing position just as her own mini monologue ended, so the transition from speaking to singing was kind of perfect as she started to sing Marry Me by Meghan Trainor. It wasn't the most subtle song in the whole song in the world but Elle wasn't aiming for that anyway, she loved Artie and she wanted to marry him as soon as possible and the song expressed that perfectly.

As soon as her words were sinking in, a blush made its way immediately to Artie's face. It wasn't every day somebody verbalized their admiration for him, much less his beautiful girlfriend. "Of course its okay", he assured her, cocking his head to the side to take in the look of her. "Before you begin, just... thank you, Elle. For the song, for all of this." He gestured to the room which was almost as lovely as she was. "I appreciate you making me feel appreciated and just... thank you."

With that said, he let out a breath and settled a little more into his seat as Elle started playing her song. It wasn't one he was immediately familiar with but he'd expected that. Artie didn't know too much music. But from the first lyrics, he realized he didn't have to be familiar with the song. It didn't exactly have any hidden meaning to it or any nuance for that matter, and if he'd been blushing before, his face was as red as tomato soup now. He wasn't sure if she was begging him to propose or if an officiant was about to come out from the closet and marry them right now and so he stayed very still with a smile on his face as the song continued, getting more and more obvious all the while.

Before he knew it, the song was over and he felt his soul return to his body. He kept hearing the last line echo in his head over and over. I can't wait, I can't wait... What was he supposed to say to that?! "Thank you," he heard himself say. "That was so good! I... I've never heard that song before but um, am I right in guessing it's called Marry Me?" His voice sounded tight and small but it wasn't because he was upset. He was nervous. Whatever conversation was brewing right now, it felt like a big one.

Elle didn't want to toot her own horn, but she was sure she was killing the proposal game. Not only was her set up and song selection just iconic, but her performance was definitely the best she'd ever sang anything in her life! So she was kind of confused when Artie didn't seem to like...understand that it was a proposal?

"Thanks! Uh yeah, it is!" She replied, trying hard not to keep her confidence from shaking. It never really had before, but if there was any time to start, it was now. Elle scrambled to untape the ring box from the back of her guitar before giving up and just pulling it out to practically shove into Artie's face. "So how about it? Will you marry me?"

Artie's eyes basically shot out of his skull when she pulled a ring box out from behind her guitar. The image of a girl on her knee holding out a ring to him wasn't anything he'd ever imagined before but there it was, in his face, impossible to ignore. He could feel his heart beating in his ears and throat and everywhere else. He had the vague thought that maybe he was supposed to reach out and take the ring box, or maybe she was supposed t hand it to him, but it was hard to do anything aside from stare.

Was he seriously getting proposed to? Was this honestly happening? He knew it happened to couples in their age range sometimes, of course, and he wanted it to happen with him and Elle eventually but when he'd pictured the proposal, he hadn't pictured this. He'd known it was coming since he'd imagined it would be of his own design. His mind was racing a mile a minute and it only then occurred to him that maybe she was waiting for an answer. He had to say something, anything, but what could he say to 'will you marry me' when the answer felt so complicated?

"Right now?!" he asked, his voice practically a screech once he finally squeezed a word or two out of his vocal cords. His eyes flickered to the bed, seriously half-expecting to see someone pop out to marry them in the moment and the feeling was very overwhelming. He shot up to his feet out of impulse and immediately got dizzy and sat back down.

Elle didn't really know what she expected Artie's reaction would be. On some level she'd known his reaction would be...a lot, that's why she hadn't done something big or super public like she'd originally wanted to, otherwise he probably would've broken up with her on the spot or like died. But never in her craziest little imaginings did she think he'd assume she wanted to get married right away and then try and fail to apparently run away from her???

"Huh? No?" She protested, nearly tripping over her own dress as she quickly tried to stand up to get closer to Artie. She hadn't processed yet that he'd gotten the idea from the literal lyrics of the song she'd just sang to him, so she was really at a loss for how to deal with this.

"I meant like, eventually! You know, like how engagements usually work?" She sighed, running a hand through her hair in confusion. "Like unless you do want to do it right now? But I don't really know how we could do that, it's kind of late in the day?"

"Engagements?" Artie repeatedly dumbly. "Is that... you're proposing?" As he said the words, it clicked that he'd finally stumbled upon what was happening and a rush of conflicting emotions like excitement and fear and panic fought in his head for dominance. "I... sorry, I thought -- I was confused. I wasn't expecting... well, I mean, I wanted to be the one to ask you! But... thank you. For this. It's amazing, I can't believe you did all this. The room, the song, it's all beautiful. And I haven't even looked at the ring but I'm sure that is too. Um..."

He forced himself to stop rambling, looking up at the sky instead of at Elle. Too many feelings were making his eyes water which he would've been embarrased about if he'd noticed but he was too deep in thought. What was he even supposed to say? Of course he wanted to marry Elle eventually, he'd told her from the start that he was only interested in dating for marriage, but this wasn't how his proposal was meant to go. He was supposed to be the one on one knee, and the one with the ring! And the one to ask for a blessing.

"I didn't even get to ask your parent's permission," he giggled, soundly vaguely hysterical as the bigger picture started to dawn on him. "That's almost funny. What did my dad say when you asked him?" The idea of Elle speaking to the king of Camelot to ask his son's hand in marriage was equal parts humorous and humiliating to picture. He loved that she loved him that much but it made his stomach clench thinking about what his dad must've felt and thought.

Elle was really confused now by Artie's question now. Like what did he think was going down? Well actually it was pretty clear that he thought she was asking him to get married right that second, but what she couldn't really get a good grasp on why THAT had been what he'd jumped to first. Elle knew she was a little more impulsive than most people but not that much more! Plus Artie hadn't said yes or no to the proposal yet and it was driving her totally crazy to try and figure out how he'd actually answer her question based on what he actually was saying to her.

"Yeah I'm proposing! D'you want to see the ring?" Elle asked, already pulling out the platinum engagement ring from the box to show him even though he wasn't even looking at her anymore. Elle started to look up at the sky too, just to see if there was actually anything to look at when Artie started talking again.

She couldn't help but scowl at the mention of asking for parents' permission. She'd hated the concept when Lev had brought up and she hated that Artie thought it was something she'd be okay with if the roles had been reversed, let alone something she would've done to him. "He didn't say anything because I didn't ask him." She replied, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "I'm proposing to you , so I'm asking you first. I don't really care what your dad has to say about it."

Artie had felt like he was watching the whole situation from above; when Elle had wanted to show him the ring, he'd all but missed the moment from how much of an out-of-body experience he was having. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Elle's unhappy face brought him right back to the ground. Just because this wasn't what he was expecting or, if he was being honest with himself, the way he'd wanted his engagement to go, it always felt wrong to see Elle unhappy, or to hear her voice change from its usually happy manic tones.

He reached out to her, his hands resting on hers on either side of her chest. His anxiety was finally lessening a tad so hopefully if he explained what was on his mind, she'd understand what he was going through and they could go through it together. "I'm sorry. I'm so in love with you, Ellie-bellie, but..." He chewed a little on the inside of his cheek before continuing, "even if you don't care what my father has to say, I do, and I can't get officially engaged without discussing it with him. I do want to marry you though, so much, and I'm so sorry that I messed up your beautiful proposal especially because, in my heart, we are engaged. I just think we have to wait to make it official with everybody else, just a little. Is that okay?"

It wasn't until he asked that last bit that he fully realized that, if that wasn't okay, his relationship with Elle could end right here and now. It hadn't occurred to him to think that they could be headed for a breakup, even when he'd completely ruined her proposal, and now that it had, he could feel his forehead and hands break out into a sweat. He didn't want to lose this wonderful ball of sunshine. He'd never had another relationship before but he knew he didn't want another one. He and Elle were so easy and fun the rest of the time, if this was the end of that, it would be absolutely devastating.

For a moment Elle was almost certain she was being turned down after all Artie started it off with sorry and tears immediately started filling her eyes. It wasn't the first time her romantic overzealousness had gotten her rejected and she wasn't the type to take a proposal rejection as a break up, but being rejected by Artie would still hurt.

Tears had already started to spill down her cheeks when she realized what he was actually trying to say, which actually made even MORE tears start to pour, but this time it was with happiness. "So that's a yes but unofficially?" She clarified, literally bouncing on her toes with excitement. She really didn't care who knew or didn't know about the engagement, Artie just agreeing to get married to her at all was more than enough to be satisfying.

Artie's entire heart felt like it was stretching beyond its capabilities at the sight of tears rolling down Elle's face. She was crying and it was all his fault and he hated it. He wanted to do or say anything to take back those tears and make Elle happy again, so when her voice changed and she was bouncing like she usually did, it was the biggest sigh of relief in his life. The whiplash of worrying that they'd break up to being unofficially engaged made tears roll down his face too and he laughed.

"Yes, of course," he agreed with a nod that was way too fast, "but maybe next time, I ask you, okay?" With that, Artie raised his hands to her face to cup it and bring her in for a kiss. Maybe he should've brought up that he would need to talk to his parents and hers about it all first, or other things of that nature, but all of those things were far too upsetting and the last thing he wanted was for Elle to frown again or feel even a drop more of unhappiness on this night that she'd worked so hard to make so special.

Elle felt a little keyed up and loopy after the emotional roller coaster they'd both just gone on and it was nearly impossible for her to stop crying so hard. But she was now unofficially engaged to the actual love of her life, so it was pretty worth it, all things considered.

"Sure, next time is all you!" She agreed easily, grinning widely through her tears before letting him kiss her. She was so excited that if he hadn't moved to kiss her first, she probably would've fully tackled him. They were engaged now and every part of her face being touched by his hands felt like they were being completely electrified in the least painful way possible.

He could feel her smile against his lips and the more serious details and conversations that Artie had wanted to have suddenly floated away from his brain. All he wanted to do was kiss Elle and make her happy and so he held her close, the kiss lingering longer than he usually let it as he let his hands skate down her sides to rest on the small of her back. After kissing her solidly for a few more moments, he pulled back slightly out of breath and smiling. "Hey, so, um, do you think it'd be okay if I slept over? I know I usually don't but after getting unofficially engaged, it feels right to be spending the night together, right?"

Sometimes kissing Artie made Elle really feel like Bella from Twilight, not she'd been super into the books as a teen, but she did remember the parts where Edward really wouldn't kiss Bella for all that long even though Bella was super pent up and horny for like the entire series. And kissing Artie was always exactly like that, never ever long enough and always frustrating.

Tonight he'd kind of lingered a little longer than usual which despite everything still managed to get Elle a little....edgy, so when he asked if she'd mind if he slept over, her eyebrows almost jumped off her head as she raised them in surprise at his question. "Do I think it'd be okay if you slept over?" She repeated completely dumbfounded, but also hurriedly wiping any evidence of tears off her face with one of her long dress sleeves. "Like to sleep sleep or like "sleep sleep"? Because you definitely can either way, but I'm not wearing a bra and hopefully that is very important information for whatever your answer is."

Artie had felt pretty bold when he'd asked to sleep over, since that wasn't a thing he typically did but then again, this wasn't a typical night. This was a night where he'd gotten unofficially engaged and something about that had woken him up, just a bit. He was nervous just thinking about it but maybe the night wasn't over yet.

"I --" Artie paused then looked down at Elle's chest briefly when she pointed out her lack of bra and gulped as he forced his eyes back up to her face, which was also lovely. "Um, sorry. I guess that depends on which of those 'sleep sleep's means 'make out a little bit if you want to and maybe even some more than that if you don't mind that I really have no idea what I'm doing'?" His face was bright red but hopefully that wouldn't count against him.

Elle was mildly disappointed when Artie's interpretation of 'sleep sleep' wasn't immediately boning the night away, but she had to remind herself that she and Artie really weren't on the exact same page tonight and "maybe even some more than that" was probably just his way of phrasing that he was picking up what she was putting down. After all he was already bright red, there was no way he'd be able to say anything dirtier than making out without choking or something.

"Artie, we've been together for months and I literally just proposed to you. Do you really think I care about what you do and don't know what to do?" Elle gave Artie one quick peck on the lips and then another after deciding the first wasn't enough, she probably could've gone for more after that if she hadn't had more to say. "I don't. In case you actually didn't know. But I know enough for both of us, so whatever more you want to do will be the best thing in the world, kay?"

She was right, of course. She had just proposed and she wouldn't have done that if him being a complete and utter virgin was that much of a turn off. He let the comfort of her words and her kiss calm him down a little bit, and when she continued, Artie had to smile. "Thank you. I think that much I knew, at least." His eyebrows raised a little at the reminder that she knew enough for the both of them and, deciding to be bold, he added, "But um. As far as you being knowledgeable goes, I'd love to learn a few things tonight." They were still close enough that he leaned back in for another kiss after that, deciding to linger. He wasn't great at saying things like 'Elle, you're so hot and cool, I'd love if we did sexy things that I'm not even sure how to elaborate on tonight', so hopefully he could convey that with his body language and if he couldn't, tonight would still go down in history as one of the most memorable nights of his life.

#para #elle #para: elle #ellecharming

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heechulhamster · 5 years

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What Love Is - Park Chanyeol

Park Chanyeol x Reader

Fluff, Slice of Life

One would think that knowing love is intrinsic to everyone. But love isn’t something you learn from other people’s definition of it. To fully grasp it’s reality, it was one you need to experience yourself.

2528 words

Love - one would think that it’s the most innate feeling amongst us humans. Too natural that one is said to experience it way even before your flesh first felt the air of this infinite world. The first heartbeat said to be a result of such feelings put into fruition by your parents, with you as its living and breathing form. Probably the most recurring theme in all forms of art - perhaps even its root and purpose. The lovers as they kiss in the serene moonlit garden depicted on the elaborate painting well rested on a museum’s wall. The tragic yet tumultuous affair immortalized in the names of Romeo and Juliet. The driving force that compelled The Platters into harmony with Only You. Most would think that love is something that we just know, as inborn as the heart beating in your chest.

Yet you found out that what you know about love is merely the textbook definition, the summary of other people’s sentiments that you tried so hard to understand. But all that love was to you was another person’s story, happiness, grief - love was anything but yours to experience. That was until he taught you what love is - and it was a lesson learned slowly.

A previously bodiless idea only showed a glimpse of its materiality in your way the moment he walked in your favorite cafe on a rainy Thursday afternoon. The cafe has always been a stranger to the crowd, only a few people knew the treasure it was. It’s handful patrons were people that you got acquainted with for frequenting the place. Yet that fateful afternoon, as the loud raindrops orchestrated a white noise against the glass windows, an unfamiliar face walked in. Juvenile in its softness, almost unfitting on the body it belonged to. The sound of the noise was persistent, but his smile overpowered everything else. Drowning whatever your other senses tried to perceive, instead focusing on the tall, princely man that was now in front of you.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked as he settled down the free chair opposite of yours on the circular coffee table.

“Well, you’re already sitting.” You spoke nonchalantly, trying to hide the growing butterflies that now reside in your tummy.

“Oh, my bad.” He chuckled, low and baritone as it reverberated through your ear and in your mind. Each vibration carving his voice in your memory, in case this shall be the first and last time you see him. “I’m Chanyeol.”

You reach out your hand to meet his that he offered for a handshake, aptly responding your name in reciprocation. Now that your attention is far away from the Danielle Steel book at hand, you decided to look around the small and warm coffee shop, a handful of seats and tables still bare.

“There’s more unoccupied tables.” You said as-a-matter-of-fact.

“Yeah, I can see that. I just thought that you might need company.” He answered as he smiled rather charmingly.

“Me or you?” You asked, a faint smile now forming your pursed lips.

“Me.” He replied with a chuckle, as his long and slender fingers shake as he raises his cup of warm coffee to his lips.

It was then you discovered that unlike the movies or novels, love wasn’t a sudden feeling. Neither was it an abyss that you just fall into while cautiously living your daily life. Not a warningless storm that just sweeps your quiet mind in an instant. Love was a set of deliberate choices, conscious and knowing of all possible events that will follow. Love was something you choose to let into your life because, not only did you open the door, you have paved the way for this person to walk on. Regardless of the inevitability of being hurt, the uncertainty of what is left unknown - you’ve let him into your life.

It was your choice not to shoo him away from your table. To let him know why you prefer the rustic and unassumingly personal cafe downtown over the trendy and bustling Starbucks near your apartment. Your decision to let him smile and tell jokes as if you were already an old friend, a sense of familiarity flooding in the both of you. And it was your choice to not let things there - to give him your number even if you could’ve said no as he reached for his phone. You’ve given him permission to be a part of your life, to be more than a stranger that you meet on a rainy Thursday in your favorite cafe. And you’ve broken all chains holding you back from feeling anything from him.

You’re well aware of his intentions when he asked you out on a Saturday night. He looked too put together to be meeting a mere acquaintance, smelled too good to just be with a friend, and his hands were too jittery for this to be platonic. Chanyeol’s nervous little chuckles as his shaky hand fails to insert the car keys to start the engine on the first try.

“This is a date, right?” You asked, not wanting to misread whatever his signals are.

“Uh.. yeah. But only if you want it to be.” Chanyeol answered, his big doe eyes looking to you with hope.

“Why are you putting the decision on me? You’re the one who asked me out.” You laughed lightheartedly.

“Well, I don’t want to pressure you into things.” He explained, as the engine of his yellow vintage Chevrolet finally roars into life.

“But is this a date or not?” You reiterated your question.

“Yes, I’m taking you out on a date.”

You smiled, small and shy in a form of relief. Because you know that you wanted it to be a date, a start of something that’s beyond platonic. The way you started preparing at 2 in the afternoon for something that’s still set for seven in the evening. How you took your time cleaning yourself in the bath, trying to look your best. It took you five, six outfits in front of the mirror before finding something that will suit your mood. Your white knee-length free flowing dress that was in your closet for the longest time, finding the right time to be worn.

The concept of love you grew with, observing as it unfolded and presented itself to your siblings and friends was a far reach from the actuality of it. The theory of being in love - one that you experienced as you read different novels and watch romantic films was no match to love in actual practice. Love wasn’t something to be learned but something to be experienced, first hand and in the front lines.

You thought you knew what being loved felt like. Manifested in the warmth of the soup you eat at dinner, passionately prepared by your mother or the hugs and giggles your friends give you. Chanyeol’s indication was something else, one that you could never get enough of despite the act being more than enough in itself.

“No, I’m not going anywhere away from you.” He insisted as he wringed the damp cloth over the basin.

“But you have work.” You tried and reasoned out in between your unforgiving coughs.

“They’ll find another jockey to take my slot. I’ll earn the money some other day. There’s nothing that would hold me back from taking care of you, okay?” Chanyeol assured you once more as he put the cloth over the heat of your forehead.

“Sorry to bother.” You replied sadly.

“You’re not a bother, you’ll never be a bother. I’m here because I want to. I’m here because I want to be the one with you, understand that?” His long and slender thumb caressed the back of your hand as his other hand tucks you in beneath the thick blankets.

“I love you.” He said as you started to doze off, probably unaware that you were still conscious. And it was his first proclamation of his devotion, his feelings now solid and alive. Taking form in his lips as it was relayed in your ears. You didn’t have to guess anymore as it already came from Chanyeol itself - he loves you.

You should be far from sleeping soundly, you should be shocked, discomforted due to sheer excitement. Yet that night, despite your clogged airways and high fever, you slept better than ever. Trapped in his embrace that showed no signs of letting go, his breathing steady and harmonious as he lays beside you. You felt assured, in place, and loved like never before.

You, on the other hand, was dealing with all the stages of falling in love along with the stages of knowing him.

First, you knew his name. The mere abstract of his existence that first made its way into your life in a cafe. He’s Chanyeol, a disc jockey that worked in the local town club. Tall, and unforgivingly handsome, with a killer sense of style. He always wears these large hoodies with his ripped jeans, looking effortlessly divine. He drives a yellow Chevrolet that mirrored the cheerfulness of his personality, always bubbly and radiating this permanent shine of light.

Next, you knew him as a matter - a being in this world beyond the shallow descriptions. You took time in memorizing each valley formed by the lines on the palm of his hands. Each mole on his body that wouldn’t be seen by mere bystanders. How he moves, nearly lanky due to his size, yet still attractive in your eyes. His biceps that was hard in your grip, strong enough to lift you in his will. Chanyeol’s voice was one of his distinct qualities, it’s low bass that just rings right in your ears. His smile, precious and warm and endearing, one that just causes you to flash one back too.

Then you took hold of Chanyeol as a human. A person with flaws and downsides yet one who strives hard to make up for it. He’ll usually forget the fact that you need silence while working and start blasting his speakers out loud - but he’ll quickly apologize once you remind him to. A person with habits, some quirky and eccentric but adorable in itself. He stirs his coffee with a fork, saying that it’s like using four small stirrers at once. His drink will always have three ice cubes in it, regardless of where and when he’ll chug it down. Chanyeol’s not-so-little pinky finger will always be the one he reaches out first, before engulfing your hand that his way smaller than his.

Finally, you knew Chanyeol as someone absolute to the universe. An imminent persona, a force to be reckoned with. An existence filled with wonderful thoughts and emotions. His artistry translated into his music that he shares with other people. The fact that he first wanted to be a recording artist, but dealing with the harsh truths of life ended up turning discs at a sweaty local club. But he didn’t see that as anything less, as all he wants is to communicate his vision and emotions through music. A universal language that just translates into anyone listening, one that he’s undeniably proficient at. He’ll always put people that he views as important over than any job or material thing - and that includes you.

And by that time, you knew there was no other explanation to this other than love. This depth of knowing that only two intertwined souls will reach.

“Let me just get your favorite strawberry yogurt.” He asked you as he reached out on the upper shelves of the market fridge, pertaining to the selection of dairy that lie cold and colorful.

“I love you.” You just blurted out, eyes looking straight and intently into his.

“What?” He clarified, eyes widening at your sudden revelation. Anyway, who wouldn’t be shocked? The first time that you’ll tell him you love him after four months of dating is while you’re both clad in sweatpants, shopping for food in a small grocery.

“I love you, Chanyeol.” You reiterated, saying it a little bit louder than the first time.

His wide eyes now retreated back into its normal size, then smaller. As his cheekbones puffed up while he smiled, bright and beaming of undeniable happiness. His hand was now on yours, leaving the rows of yogurt forgotten.

“I love you too.” Chanyeol said, not giving you any sense to doubt the sincerity of his words.

It was sudden, how you just professed a long growing feeling inside of you while in a grocery. But its urgency was brought by the importance of what you felt while pushing a shopping cart along the alleys of chips. It was the comfort, the undeniable sense of familiarity you have with Chanyeol, that you’d let him join you in something you used to enjoy doing on your own. How he just knows what flavor of yogurt you’d get without even asking you, only because he takes note of what you like. And the fact that you feel at home, in the middle of a grocery aisle, all because you’re with Chanyeol. Only to prove that a home isn’t just defined by four concrete walls, but also the presence of someone dear - of someone you love.

Long gone were the days where you envied the movie characters for their picturesque kiss under the rain. How you imagined it would happen to you when your friends are talking about it in high school, that didn’t come into fruition as your prom night was as plain as a piece of paper. You didn’t have to write what you think love is, because you finally experienced it, said it out loud and heard it back.

With Chanyeol, you’ve debunked all the myths you thought you knew about love.

Finding love didn’t need to be a breathtaking moment out of the movies. It could be as simple as a rainy Thursday afternoon while you sip on your cup of mocha at a small vintage cafe.

That indications of love doesn’t need a dozen long stemmed roses nor a box of chocolates. Sometimes you’ll feel love when he lets you choose the playlist on a car ride. Or when he lets you sleep on his arm, even if it would feel numb an hour later. Maybe it’s how you let him hug your precious pillow because you want to smell like him.

Love wasn’t a formless concept, a feeling that just swims in your mind. It was something concrete and alive. It had colors - it was red as the heart he drew on your notebook one lazy Sunday afternoon. Sometimes it was as yellow as his ochre hoodie that looks oversized on you. Maybe it’s even brown for the tub of chocolate ice cream he gets you. Love can be known by temperature - warm for when you’re in his arms and cold when he leaves for work. Love had different shapes - a heart, a hickey, a rose, all these infinite possibilities.

Most importantly, love is true. You have your own proof, breathing, living, and one to be seen and told stories about - and it was with Chanyeol.

#exo #exo imagine #exo fluff #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol

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hurt-care · 5 years

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Ahh this isn't a specific prompt but I'd love to see more of our favorite sick werewolf if you ever feel inspired..

I’m always inspired to write him ;)

Tonks stumbled into the Grimmauld Place, tripping on the troll leg umbrella stand for what she was certain was the hundredth time that year. For someone that spent as much time at Headquarters as she did, it was ridiculous that it still managed to get in her way. Maybe this was a long-game prank courtesy of two so-called Marauders who could often be found together in the house.

Or maybe it was just Remus. Her clumsiness seemed to intensify when he was around. Maybe it was the giddiness of finally navigating the beginnings of a relationship that left her so wobbly on her feet. But it didn't matter if she tripped; things usually ended up with them tumbling into bed anyway.

She dropped her work satchel and shrugged out her travelling cloak, tossing it over a coat hook in the hall. It was Tuesday morning and the house was quiet. At this hour during the week no one would be here except for Sirius and perhaps Remus. Tonks had just finished an overnight shift for the Ministry and she was too wound up to sleep. Maybe a chat with Sirius and a cup of tea would be enough to calm her enough to go home to her flat and rest.

Just as she started to head towards the kitchen, the library door opened and Remus emerged rubbing one eye with the palm of his hand and yawning. He was still in his pyjamas, wearing blue and green plaid flannel bottoms and a loose t-shirt with small hole at the collar. He had a grey cardigan overtop with the sleeves rolled up.

He froze at the sight of her and flushed pink.

“Wotcher, Remus,” she said cheerfully. “Just get up?”

“Er, no,” he said. His voice was his usual hoarse Welsh lilt but it sounded quieter and rougher today. “I didn't think anyone would be coming round here.”

“Well, it's just me,” she said, stepping forward to give him a hug. “No need to get flustered. I just got off work and figured I'd stop in and say hello.”

She went to wrap her arms around his middle but he stepped backwards and shook his head.

“That's not a good-” he started to say, but his voice faltered and his breath hitched a little. He wrinkled his nose and made a little sound of frustration. “I-” he began to say again, but he hitched once more and turned sharply away from her, raising an arm to shield his nose.

Hurh-TSGHHT!

He sneezed harshly and coughed a few brief hacks before he turned to face her again.

“Sorry, bless me,” he stammered, extracting a handkerchief from the pocket of his cardigan. He pressed it lightly to his nostrils, dabbing away some moisture.

“Are you sick?” she asked, concerned.

“Just a little cold,” he croaked. “I'm fine.”

“Where's Sirius?” she asked. “Want to have a cuppa with me?”

“He's upstairs, I think,” Remus replied. “I don't know if either of us are good company at the moment.”

“I don't need good company, I need some tea,” Tonks said with a laugh. “C'mon. You look like you need one too.”

They went to the kitchen and Remus dropped into a chair with a sigh, tugging his cardigan sleeves down and folding his arms. He looked somehow younger in his pyjamas; a change from his usual tweedy professorial garb. His hair still aged him though, greying at the temples and across the top in a wave of silver through sandy brown. Tonks ruffled it affectionately as she passed by with the kettle.

“How long you been sick, then?” she asked, setting the kettle to boil with her wand and carefully taking down two mugs from the cabinets.

“Since last night,” he said wearily. “It's just a cold, Tonks. Don't worry.”

“But tomorrow night,” she began. He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Don't worry,” he repeated.

She plopped the tea bags into the mugs and poured in the boiling water. Tomorrow night was a full moon and she knew he'd be feeling it today. She tried to give him some space in the few days before and after when she knew he felt achy and on edge. But he was easy to worry about and she often found herself wondering how she could make things better for him without hurting his pride. Everything with Remus was a careful dance and Tonks was notoriously clumsy. Still, they were stumbling along somehow.

“There,” she said, setting down a mug of tea in front of him and leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “Drink up.”

His lips twisted into a half-smile and he nodded gratefully, curling his hands around the warm cup.

“Tell me about your work last night,” he asked hoarsely. “Why were you on overnight?”

“Apparently someone spotted notorious criminal Sirius Black in Northumberland. I spent the night patrolling the edge of a forest.”

“Ah,” Remus said around a sip of tea. “Did you catch him?”

“Just a drifter type passing through and a few deer were all I ended up reporting,” she said, grinning. “No notorious criminals.”

Remus chuckled and coughed hard afterwards, his lungs irritated by the laugh. He sniffled and pressed the side of his wrist to his nose.

“Can I get you anything?” Tonks asked, concerned. “Some Pepper-Up? Another kind of cold tonic?”

“Snape doesn't like me taking anything else alongside the Wolfsbane,” he croaked.

“Snape is a sadist,” Tonks replied. “There must be something you can have.”

“Tea is fine,” he said wearily. “Besides, it - ehhh...hehh'TSGHXHH!”

He broke off, fumbling in his pocket for his handkerchief and getting it to his nose in time to muffle a damp-sounding sneeze. He gave a short, productive blow and pinched the cloth off the end of his sharply sloped nose.

Tonks was just starting to open her mouth to bless him when he sneezed again with a throaty, rough sound

Hrhh-TSCHXHHTT!

“Bless-”

Ngh'TSGHHT!

Remus lingered with the handkerchief over his nose, breathing shallowly.

“Bless you?” Tonks offered finally.

Remus groaned and blew his nose again.

“Ugh, sorry,” he said softly.

“You look done in, love,” she said “Why don't you go back to bed?”

“I was trying to get some things done in the study,” he replied, tucking his handkerchief into his pocket again. “And Sirius was being a right bastard this morning so I'm not keen to go back up there.”

“When is he nota bastard in the morning?” Tonks teased.

“True. Having the first class of the day with him was never fun. It would take him until eleven to fully wake up.”

He looked wistful as he discussed the memory and Tonks smiled fondly at his expression.

“Well, I can handle some Black attitude if you want to go back to bed. My mother is the same way in the morning.”

Remus laughed but it quickly turned into a cough. He cleared his throat noisily, trying to stop the coughing, but soon he was bent over and going red in the face as he coughed with hoarse barking sound. Tonks frowned and rounded the table, flicking her wand to summon a glass and filling it with water. She went to Remus' side and knelt, reaching out to rub his back.

He was warm, even through the layers of his t-shirt and cardigan. She tipped the cup to his lips and he grabbed it, drinking eagerly. The coughs settled to small hacks and slowly he regained his breath.

Tonks reached out to clear his fringe out of his eyes and was startled to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“You're burning up,” she exclaimed, resting her palm flat on his brow. She heard him make a sound of disagreement but he leaned into her cool touch, shutting his eyes.

“No,” he rasped. “I always run hot this close to the moon.”

“This is a fever, Remus,” she said, pushing her hand up and smoothing back his sweaty hair. She lowered her hand and cupped it to his cheek, thumb stroking the rough patch of his beard coming in along his jaw. “Let me take you up to bed. You should rest.”

He sighed wearily and gave her a resigned shrug.

“I...I don't really,” he began, struggling to find the words. He looked towards the floor, voice going softer. “I don't really like being stuck in bed if I don't have to be.”

Tonks felt her heart sink. Of course he didn't. It was enough of a pain to be laid up for a few days a month. Getting sick on top of that must feel like a total bore.

“I understand,” she said gently. “But you're clearly unwell, love. I just don't want you to get sicker.”

“You're right,” he said. “I'm sure you're exhausted and need to get going anyway. I can see myself upstairs.”

Tonks laughed and swatted his arm gently.

“You are an idiot,” she whispered against his cheek, planting a kiss on the fevered skin. “I'm not going anywhere.”

She stood up and extended a hand, pulling him up to his feet. He swayed a little and huffed a cough into his arm.

“Can you make it upstairs if I stay here and get a tray of a few things together?”

He nodded..

“Alright. I'll be up in a few minutes.”

She squeezed his shoulder affectionately as he turned and shuffled off towards the stairs.

Tonks put the kettle back to a boil and prepped a fresh mug of ginger tea with lemon and honey. In the pantry, she found a tin of instant-heat soup that looked decent enough, so she added it to the tray with an empty bowl for future use. Last was a carafe of water and a large glass. If Remus' cold was anything like the ones she sometimes got, he'd be thirsty from the coughing and the breathing through his mouth.

She floated the tray in front of her and carefully made her way upstairs. The door to the room where Remus slept was open. Inside, Remus was seated on the edge of his bed, fingers playing with the frayed edge of his cardigan cuff.

“Get comfy,” she said, setting the tray down on his nightstand.

He kicked back the sheets and reclined against a stack of pillows, keeping his head slightly elevated to help with the congestion.

“Better,” she said, leaning over to kiss his brow. “Do you feel too warm? Do you want a flannel for your face?”

“No, no,” he rasped. “I feel fine.”

“I think your definition of 'fine' is slightly skewed,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to run her fingers through his hair.

“Tonks, I-” he stammered, pulling back. He turned suddenly, tucking his nose against his shoulder.

Ehh-TSGHHH! Nghhh—hehh-TSXHT!

“Bless you.”

He sniffled thickly and closed his eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Can I stay a bit?” she asked, resuming her stroking of his hair.

He made a small sound of protest.

“Don't want to get you sick,” he said softly, though he shifted to make room for her at his side.

“I won't,” she assured him, climbing over his legs and tucking herself along his side.

Nhh-GSHGHHH!

He sneezed again, body shivering against hers. He reached into his pocket for the now ratty-looking handkerchief and gave a half-hearted blow. Tonks felt her heart swell in sympathy at the congested sound.

“C'mere,” she said, sitting up beside him and guiding his head into her lap. He lifted his head reluctantly and settled into her touch. She spread her fingertips along the ridge of his sinuses, massaging gently to ease the congestion, and running them up along his temples to relieve any headaches.

He relaxed into the touch for only a few moments before he sputtered with a cough and rolled away from her, hacking with a chesty, urgent bark. She rubbed his back, feeling utterly useless at making him feel any better.

His lungs rattled and wheezed with each pained exhale and inhale as he battled to stop the cough.

“Water,” Tonks urged, leaning over him to get the glass from the nightstand. She helped him sit up a little and tipped the cup to his lips. He drank a bit but soon turned his face away, still coughing.

“Remus,” she sighed, rubbing his back again. “Oh love.”

He coughed one last, wheezy time and went limp, closing his eyes. He sniffled thickly and cleared his throat, wiping his nose and mouth with his handkerchief.

“Here,” she said, offering up more water. He drank more this time and when the glass was empty, he took a shuddering breath from his mouth and turned his nose into his shoulder once more, sneezing a tight, restrained sneeze.

Ngh'XHTT!

The gurgled sniffled that followed was so pitifully that Tonks couldn't help but sigh in sympathy. She sat up fully against the headboard and put a pillow against her middle.

“C'mere,” she said, helping Remus to sit in between her spread legs so that he was reclined against her, elevated with his head resting on her chest. His chin bobbed forward as exhaustion flooded his body and his eyelids fluttered shut fully. Tonks gently tipped his head back against her and stroked his hair soothingly away from his forehead.

Remus' breath came in steady huffs through his mouth, sometimes accented with a congested snort. And then, they quieted to a slow, soft wheeze and evened out as he fell asleep. Tonks closed her own eyes, comforted by the weight of him against her. The fatigue of last night's mission was finally catching up with her.

Just as she was starting to doze off, the bedroom door opened a crack and Sirius poked his head in. He smiled when he saw the two of them cozied up.

“Hi,” he mouthed to Tonks and crept over to the bedside, looking down at the sleeping Remus.

“I'm glad you talked sense into him,” Sirius whispered. “He was being very stubborn this morning.”

“He was saying the same about you,” she replied quietly.

Sirius laughed softly and reached out to feel Remus brow.

“Still has a fever?”

Tonks nodded.

“He was exhausted and he's really congested. Probably just needs a bit of quiet time in bed.”

Sirius shrugged.

“He's stubborn about being in bed when he feels he doesn't need to be.”

Tonks kissed the top of Remus head.

“I know,” she said softly. “He told me.”

“Well, he's resting now at least,” Sirius replied. “Can I stay?”

Tonks smiled.

“Sure.”

The was a soft 'pop' and a large black dog sprung up onto the bed and settled down, resting its fuzzy head on Remus' legs.

Tonks reached out and scratched its head affectionately before closing her eyes again and nodding off as the three of them shared a mid-morning nap.

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the-gone-ton · 5 years

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This is the full story of the Dempsey's chain of restaurants. It's a long one, but one I felt should be told. Pictures Will be at the end.

Phillip Rowe Jr. was given a big gift by his grandfather in 1948: a restaurant in Shillington, Pennsylvania called Dempsey's American Kitchen. A homey, 24-hour diner serving up authentic homestyle meals, the restaurant was an especially popular hangout for teenagers who enjoyed crashing at the diner at all hours of the night, after seeing movies or whatever.

The restaurant with the red-orange roof eventually expanded its presence, especially in the 70s and 80s, by buying or building a number of new restaurants spanning eastern and central Pennsylvania, with each location staying true to the Dempsey's model of cooking from scratch. Many locations had in-house bakeries, and the chain had a lot of fame for its strawberry pies and "mile-high" coconut cream pies.

Kathy Lauer-Williams of the Morning Call recounts, "With the chubby, barefoot 'Dutch boy' out front and homemade soups and meals inside, Dempsey's was like going home." And that was exactly the strategy. The company refrained from promoting the Dempsey's name in favor of developing a reputation for quality at every individual restaurant among the community.

Starting in the 80s, the chain sought to diversify. Dempsey's purchased two upscale bar & grill type restaurants, which served a full menu including broiled seafood.

Dempsey's reached a record high of 14 restaurants in consecutive operation in 1985, when the Morning Call reported on the chain's purchase of the City Vu Diner in Whitehall, wedged in between the Whitehall Mall and the Lehigh Valley Mall. Philip Rowe Jr., then the President of Dempsey's Restaurants, Incorporated, sat for an interview in the lounge of his newest acquisition, telling the Morning Call that he had been interested in buying this restaurant for almost a decade, as it sits at the corner of two main roads with the malls drawing traffic. Rowe had been eager to secure his chain's place "at the corner of main and main," as he put it.

He predicted that the newest Dempsey's would have a competitive edge over rivals such as Friendly's, due to the discretion that Dempsey's restaurant managers have over the menu and decor - and of course, due to the chain's rejection of pre-prepared food products.

Rowe stated that he was amazed at the reception Dempsey's has received in Whitehall during its first half a year or so in business there, even going so far as to say that "If we get what we should get when the weather breaks, it'll be one of our top four or five stores."

Capping off the interview, Morning Call reporter Tom Moylan wrote "Ever since his grandfather gave him a diner 38 years ago, Rowe says, the Dempsey's concept has succeeded. Today, each store does between $850,000 and $1.5 million in sales. Some Dempsey's have been closed because of lost leases or changing markets, but Rowe says none has ever failed financially."

But that was when they would indeed begin failing financially. After just 6 years in business at Philip Rowe's long-sought Whitehall restaurant, Dempsey's closed that location. The experimental bar & grill restaurants were also among the first to go. The 90s saw a huge reduction in Dempsey's locations. Unfortunately, the exact dates of many of the closures and indeed even many of the restaurant locations are virtually lost to history. However, at least two Dempsey's restaurants chugged on into the 2000s: the original Dempsey's American Kitchen in Shillington and a Dempsey's restaurant in Bethlehem, at the ailing Westgate Mall.

Then in 2005, without any notice, the Bethlehem restaurant took down its signage, locked the doors, and meekly hung a cardboard sign thanking customers. Again, the Morning Call reported on the end of the era. Mark Baranowski, the auctioneer who was handling the sale of all the equipment left in the Bethlehem Dempsey's said that there were a lot of disappointed customers. He stated, "They served the community real well and fed a lot of people, but now the times are changing. The food wasn't wrong, they had good food - the page just turned."

19 years after he sat in the lounge of his 14th restaurant talking about the future of his expanding chain to the Morning Call, Philip Rowe Jr., now an aging restauranteur in his mid-70s, did not return calls from the Morning Call to talk about the closure of his second-to-last diner.

Two years later, in 2007, Dempsey's American Kitchen in Shillington - the first and the last of a small empire - shut its doors after 59 years of operation under Philip D. Rowe, Jr. Aside from the difficulty of staffing 24-hour restaurants, no explanation has ever been made for the collapse of the beloved restaurant chain. Perhaps it's as simple as cooking from scratch becoming too expensive to maintain. Philip Rowe himself still lives in Reading, Pennsylvania, not far from where the heart of his restaurant chain was located, at the age of 92. What follows are pictures from every former Dempsey's restaurant I could find.

Image credit: Google Street View, Berks Nostalgia. This was the original Dempsey's American Kitchen. It is unknown when it opened, but it operated under Rowe from 1948-2007. Most Dempsey's restaurants were purchased by the chain rather than built by it. However, those that were outright built by Dempsey's shared the original restaurant's red-orange roof. After 11 years of vacancy, this Dempsey's was demolished in 2018 to make way for a Sheetz.

Images: public domain. This is the City Vu Diner in Whitehall that Dempsey's purchased from the family that founded it. City Vu had gone bankrupt in the end, which is how Dempsey's got a hold of it in 1985. Despite Rowe's statements suggesting that the restaurant would be a top performer that could out-compete other chains in the area such as Friendly's, the restaurant was a Dempsey's only for 6 years, and no pictures seem to exist of the restaurant during this time. Today the restaurant operates as the New City View Diner. As a point of interest, the Friendly's restaurant that Rowe mentioned by name in his 1986 interview ended up outliving Dempsey's by quite some time, but it did in fact close its doors as well in December of 2018.

Image credits: Judy Palladino. This was a Dempsey's in Pottstown. That picture was taken to show the damages of Hurricane Agnes in 1972. If you look closely, you can see the sign in the window advertising their famous strawberry pie. The restaurant was later operated as the VIP Family Restaurant, the High Street Diner, the New VIP Diner, until finally reopening as the Potts & Penn Family Diner. The diner today is supposedly mostly the same as it was back then, and the owner of the restaurant, Manny Vlastos, has said that 9 out of 10 stories he's told by customers are about the Dempsey's days - a legacy he says he's honored to carry on.

Image credits: me. Bethlehem's Dempsey's outlived most of the chain when it closed in 2005. Opened in 1973 along with the Westgate Mall, this restaurant was one of the few that were built, rather than merely purchased, by Dempsey's. This is why it sports the red roof, as well as a basement bakery. This place was a favorite of my grandfather's, because they were the only restaurant that still made mashed potatoes the real way, not from powder mix. Despite redevelopment plans being adopted in 2017, the restaurant stands abandoned to this day.

Image: public domain. The Plain & Fancy Diner on Hamilton Street, Allentown became a Dempsey's in 1968 and remained one until 1993. It now operates as the Hamilton Family Restaurant, or as it is lovingly called, the Ham Fam.

Image: tripadvisor. Dempsey's owned this restaurant in Easton, but it is unknown when it began operating as a Dempsey's. It closed in the early to mid 90s, and is today the Tic Toc Family Restaurant.

Image: Queen City Family Restaurant. This restaurant in Reading, today operating as the Queen City Family Restaurant, claims on its website that it was originally a Dempsey's. Assuming that's true, then I suspect it became a Howard Johnson's franchise afterwards, which would explain the blue paint on some of the roof fixtures.

Additionally, Dempsey's operated Leed's Bar & Grill Ltd. in Harrisburg starting in 1982 as well as the 1760 House Bar & Grill in Trexlertown starting in 1989. These were the experimental upscale bar & grill restaurants that Dempsey's bought. At the time, the manager of 1760 said that he expected all the difficult-to-staff 24-hour diners would be replaced by these upscale alternatives. However, Dempsey's would only end up owning 1760 for 3 years before selling it off. It is unknown when they sold Leed's. Having been purchased in 1989, the 1760 House Bar & Grill appears to have been the last acquisition ever made by Dempsey's Restaurants, Inc. Leed's Ltd. And the 1760 Pub ~N~ Grille, as they're now known, operate to this day.

There were over 15 Dempsey's restaurants in total. The nine here are those which I have been able to identify; the rest have eluded me.

#long post #dempseys american kitchen #history #restaurant #abandoned restaurant #abandoned #bankrupt #bankruptcy #abandoned places #rise and fall #dead mall series #deadmall #dead malls #dead mall #retail apocalypse #retail

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