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pridewon · 2 years

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“(don’t reblog!) i found more light novel translations so here are some details i’m stealing and keeping forever in my heart:

- iwaizumi spent an entire day prompting a film crew to edit out things that would make oikawa look like an idiot during a tv interview and somewhat succeeded. somewhat. - when said film crew arrived, seijoh’s players were nervous about being/not being on tv... iwaizumi was concerned about oikawa coming across as a petty asshole on regional tv. - during nekoma’s journey to miyagi on the shinkansen, kuroo was relieved it was a (bank?) holiday because it meant their team wouldn’t attract angry stares from tired office people commuting on the same train bdjhvfvb self-conscious kuroo is still real after all these years my guys. - not one of my muses but kai is a giant nerd who knows every model of shinkansen and takes pictures of them and i need the world to know that. - TRAINING CAMP YAMAGUCHI ASKED HINATA AND LEV IF HE COULD JOIN THEIR SERVING PRACTICE AND HE WAS SO NERVOUS ABOUT IT BLESS HIS HEART I WAS RIGHT HE DID ASK OTHER PLAYERS TO PRACTICE WITH HIM. - asahi and tanaka joined them and kuroo watched from the sidelines and picked up on the fact that asahi and yamaguchi were pracising jump serves and how it was more impressive than tanaka’s standing serves 👀 - kuroo called yamaguchi “skinny guy” i’m vbdjfhvbdhfv - wait asahi and yamaguchi are actually hanging out and being serve practice buddies and asahi asks him if he’s okay when he looks worried about tsukishima, my heart 🥺 - okay yamaguchi is full on fanboying over asahi’s powerful serves and honestly, mood. - oh no he’s also feeling bad because asahi being awesome reminds him that he still sucks. - HOLD NOW UP SUGA COMES UP TO YAMAGUCHI AND APOLOGISES FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO HELP HIM?? - “you even had to go to shimada senpai yourself, looks like we have been too dependent on your will to learn.” I’M LOSING MY FUCKING MIND KARASUNO REALLY SAID ‘welp we can’t help you but it looks lke you’ve got it so we’ll leave you to it” WHAT? - suga actively acknowledged that no one on karasuno could help yamaguchi do what he wanted to do and encouraged him i’m weeping. - suga best senpai CONFIRMED. - wow yachi really flat out told yamaguchi “you’re WAY taller than i thought and i didn’t realise it until now” BRUTAL and now he feels bad. - and now yachi feels bad for making him feel bad and he feels bad for making her feel bad about making him feel bad and it’s turning into an apology contest and pURE CHAOS. “I’M A WORTHLESS WORM” YACHI NO. - asahi is getting second-hand anxiety just from watching them from afar god bless. - during the watermelon break tsukishima disappears and yamaguchi starts getting anxious and feeling the need to talk to someone but his social anxiety makes him feel like he can’t join the second years and third years in their conversation even though they’re right next to him, thanks light novel i’m highlighting that three times over. - omg he flat out left to have lunch on his own because he was too overwhelmed. - he’s practiced his serves so much, his hands actually got stronger and rougher. - yamaguchi is perfectly aware of when he pisses off tsukishima vbdhfvb. - “Tsukishima is staring at me, his face clearly saying I’m annoying and irritating. He’s doing all these to chase me away, in order to run away from me, run away from Hinata, run away from volleyball, and run away from himself.” so yamaguchi can read tsukishima’s confirmed, thanks i didn’t need my feels anyway. - ooooh fun bit of tokyo training camp trivia: the captains and vice-captains have a kind of meeting room just for them! - akaashi speaks on fukurodani’s behalf instead of bokuto because bokuto can’t be bothered vfbjdhvbh ffs bokuto - bokuto plays cards with ubunaga’s captain at every camp apparently. - ubunaga’s captain already left so now bokuto is trying to convince akaashi, kuroo, kai, daichi and suga to play with him. akaashi is trying to give them an out... - ... but of course kuroo wants to play. - and suga flat out volunteers daichi what a menace i love him. - akaashi is very tired. - omg kai is 100 times more of a conman than kuroo when it comes to card games and kuroo is finding it hilarious. - for exactly three seconds, daichi convinced himself that kuroo could read minds. - akaashi didn’t want to lose the second game because the loser would have to massage bokuto so he emotionally blackmailed kai into losing aND IT WORKED. - and now kai is purposefully making it painful for bokuto and everyone is scared of him. - kai is officially haikyuu’s best character y’all. - suga and kai left and akaashi fell asleep and daichi/kuroo/bokuto continued playing until morning and hinata found them, bless. - iwaizumi @ oikawa “ “Your very existence is the root of our sadness.” VBJHBVJF - there is no difference of experience, skill and stamina between shiratorizawa and the college teams they practice against, no wonder seijoh never won against them hot damn. - USHIJIMA FORGETS TO EAT WHEN THERE’S A GAME COMING UP AND HE’S TOO ABSORBED IN VOLLEYBALL WHAT. - oh no that’s twice already that yamaguchi works himself past exhaustion and feels unwell my heart - suga is looking after him 🥺 - bokuto is forcing his teammates and nekoma into a game of dodgeball befoe the other teams of the shinzen camp get there and it’s glorious. the nekoma players are just “maybe he’s right we can learn something about volleyball from dodgeball.......” but the fukurodani players are 100% done already. - kuroo “motivates” the fukurodani gang by taunting them hvbdjhvb what a champ. - komi instinctively receives, akaashi instinctively sets, bokuto instinctively spikes, great this is now volleydodgeball. - yaku wants to use lev as a human shield but lev refuses because it hurts but kuroo forces him and tells him he expects a lot from the future ace so of course lev willingly becomes a human shield, someone save this child from his demon senpais. - yamaguchi IMMEDIATELY catches on michimiya’s crush on daichi and forcibly drags away hinata and kageyama who are very loudly commenting on the whole charm gifting thing, best kouhai ever. - my boy konoha is FINALLY making an appearance and getting teased by saru when he goes along with one of bokuto’s antics. - oh no bokuto misunderstood something akaashi said, and akaashi turns to his senpai for help, BUT NOW EVERYONE MISUNDERSTANDS HIM - “ Akaashi is shaken by the change in attitude of his trusted third years. “ thsi is the single most heartbreaking sentence i’ve read in any haikyuu content. - everything is chaos and now konoha wants to pick a fight with akaashi’s grandmother, please don’t ask. - TSUKISHIMA IS AFRAID OF HEIGHTS, I REPEAT, TSUKISHIMA IS AFRAID OF HEIGHTS. - yes this is just a commentary now not just my muses anymore i’m sorry but not sorry. - there is a whole thing about bokuto struggling to name his feelings and comparing them to a balloon he’s trying to hold back with his hands but that slips away and floats to the ceiling and disappears before he can catch it, and i’ll be thinking about this all night. - spring tournament time, bokuto buys the “way of the ace” t-shirt every year because he’s scared of outgrowing it. - bokuto is kidnapping tsukishima into his shopping spree and someone from fukurodani is telling him “it’s okay to ignore bokuto you know” and i’m deciding it’s konoha. - “ “Bokuto, don’t mess with other school’s first year.” “I get it though, Tsukishima is the type you just want to mess with, right?” “True, he’s like Akaashi in some way.” “Eh?” “Kidding, kidding. Don’t mind it.” “I do mind.” “ I’M WHEEZING AKAASHI’S SENPAIS ARE THE WORST. - oh no kuroo has joined the fray and tsukishima is sandwiched between him and bokuto and he’s contemplating his entire existence in agonising distress. - oh shit kenma, akaashi and tsukishima gave bokuto a judging glare and they BROKE HIM, those three apparently have a lot of power together. - okay the light novel says the miya twins at the very least still have their mom in addition to their grandmother *mumbles mumbles my poor headcanons* - atsumu can smell mochi from very far away but not osamu, i was not expecting this and therefore declare the era of “atsumu has a very astute sense of smell”. - the twins helped some old people pound rice to make mochi, and now they’re shaping them, and osamu is making some very nice ones with a bunch of little girls who came to watch, whiel atsumu makes mochi monsters with a bunch of little boys who came to watch, and the girls sympathise with osamu having a brother like atsumu, i’mvbfjvhbh. - the twins making mochi with children is actually really wholesome stop it. - their mochi adventure made them forget that they initially went out to distribute new year’s cards and their mom is Not Happy about it. - Mama Miya sounds like a tough and cool lady. - ATSUMU NEVER STUDIES AND SLEEPS IN CLASS. - he flunked his midterms and was only allowed to compete in volleyball because aran convinced the teachers and apologised on his behalf, my god atsumu is a disaster why does anyone put up with him ever. - atsumu flat out admitted he sometimes puts on a “good boy face” so aran will let him off the hook when he gets scolded. - woah atsumu really doesn’t give a shit about school, good for him good for him. - iwaizumi, matsukawa and hanamaki went on an onsen trip during winter break after losing to karasuno I HAVE NO WORDS. - iwaizumi stays in saunas longer than any normal human being. - iwaizumi and matsukawa are having an eating contest and hanamaki is so confused and the iwaizumi/mattsun friendship is filling me with so much dumb joy. - aaaaand just as i was wondering where on earth oikawa was during this little trip, iwaizumi drops a “… If only he had come.” IWAIZUMI HAJIME SIR. - “If you say ‘him’ there’s no one but him.” okay then i guess hanamaki and matsukawa are confirming that iwaoi is canon. - the schweiden adlers won four consecutive games against the tachibana red falcons (aran’s team). - omg akana has to interview ushijima and kuroo told him she was a very promising sports journalist and ushijima is accidentally super nice and encouraging to her i’m crying. - akane describes ushijima’s way of answering questions as “clear and strong, with no hesitations” just like his playstyle and this will now live rent free in my head. - ushijima says playing with his team in shiraorizawa enriched his life and that the players there weren’t just strong 🥺

#(ushijima; headcanons)#(yamaguchi; headcanons)#(kuroo; headcanons)#(bokuto; headcanons)#(miya a; interactions)#holy crap that was so long to read my eyes burn #no more writing tonight but my brain is full of haikyuu and i'm happy

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juminsmysticmc · 2 years

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Hello, can we please have your latest post (RFA coming home stressed causing an argument with Mc who is feeling sick / and faints) with jihyun and saeran too please ? ☺️

Minor Trio having an argument with Mc before she faints

Hey hey! After I reblogged the post I also realized that the Minor Trio were missing and so I was pretty excited when I saw the request! I hope you enjoy it!! Please give me feedback, like, reblog and comment!

Saeran

Jumin was a nice person, however, working with him made Saeran almost go crazy.

Especially because Jumin was the one who helped him out the most, Saeran wanted to give his best at his job.

But between working with him, trying to rescue his brother, and living together with you… his emotion at some point was just overloaded with different feelings and so it came that once he opened the door to your apartment and saw you decorate for Christmas, he somehow snapped.

,,How can you behave happily and so confident while I am working my ass off and have so many fears and problems?!“ he hissed, making you slowly try to get some distance from him.

,,Saeran… I did this for you…“ you mumbled, thinking that the colorful lights would perhaps light up his mood.

You didn’t, however, expect that it would turn out differently.

He sighed and suddenly left the room, leaving you alone.

Tears slowly found their way out as you took down every single decoration, even the ones you put way up high on the shelves.

,,Ugh, I need the chair again,’’ you groaned and with teary eyes you climbed on the chair.

However, once up there, you suddenly felt lightheaded and just when you tried to get down again, you missed a step and actually fell and hit your head pretty hard…

,,She is waking up! Oh my God she’s waking up!’’ Saeran hiccuped, stroking your head as your eyes flickered.

,,Saeran called us and we were worried, Mc,’’ Jaehee smiled.

You didn’t quite remember, but apparently you were unconscious for a pretty long time.

Saeran made sure to apologize to you and to your surprise, he even decorated the apartment once again. ,,I actually felt happy… I’m sorry I snapped,’’ he mumbled and you forgave him.

Jihyun

,,You simply don’t get me,’’ you hissed at your husband who kept staring at the picture he was currently trying to finish editing after he came home way too late from work.

,,No, you don’t get ME!’’ he hissed back. His tone was totally out of character.

You rolled your eyes as you looked out of his working room.

,,What’s so wrong with wanting a child of my own? Do you not want to have a baby with me? Is it because of that?’’ you asked him and for a short moment his eyes became softer.

,,You know that that’s not true, Mc… I just… I need some more time. We already have Lucy! Besides, how do you expect me to react when you ask me something like that? I didn’t even take off my shoes!’’ he argued, making you feel even more insecure.

,,I understand,’’ you lied and excited the room, leaving him behind in that suddenly cold room.

You loved Lucy deeply, just as if she was your very own child. However, you feared that one day she would leave you for her own mother, something you totally understood. You still urged for a child, but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t love Lucy anymore.

Well, the truth was that you urged for the child, but you were already pregnant and were just trying to tell your husband the news. However, his reaction was more than clear to you.

,,Lucy, let’s go, let’s go prepare dinner,’’ you smiled and waited for her to grab your hand.

,,Why are you crying?’’ she asked you once she held your hand, looking at you worriedly.

You just smiled and patted her head, trying to tell her that everything was alright, but you yourself knew that this was a big lie.

The both of you began to prepare dinner, washing the rice and the vegetables when you suddenly felt sick.

You tried to ignore your feelings since you couldn’t leave Lucy alone in the kitchen, however, you noticed that you suddenly felt sicker and sicker…

,,Lucy, wait, go away from the stove,’’ you managed to mumble before your legs slowly gave up.

The scared cries of his daughter made Jihyun jump up and make his way towards the kitchen where the cries were coming from, just to meet your body.

,,You’re awake,’’ Jihyun smiled when he saw you looking around, quickly placing a kiss on your hot skin. You had a high fever.

,,How’s…’’

,,The baby?’’ he asked you, making you tear up. ,,Nothing happened… it was the stress… I didn’t know. I’m sorry… I reacted wrong. The truth is that I’m scared… I’m scared of raising a child from the very start… I’m sorry… Please forgive me,’’ he begged.

Bonus:

Vanderwood

,,Where were you?’’ you asked him, killing him with your eyes as soon as he opened the door and stepped in.

His eyes were glued to your movements as he scoffed ,,What are you, my mother?’’ he asked.

Vanderwood never ever was that rude with you and so an argument was started.

You yelled at him, telling him that you didn’t allow him to talk to you like that and he annoyedly answered that with you he felt as if he was a bird in a cage, something that really hurt you.

You didn’t mean to be that… aggressive as soon as he came home, but what could you do? You just threw up twice and needed someone to support you…

However, those words never left your mouth and instead you walked straight into your room where you decided to lay down again as you felt feverish and tired, not explaining anything to your boyfriend.

Vanderwood took off his shoes and walked into the bathroom just to wash his hands when he suddenly smelt the disgusting air.

He knew how much you feared throwing up and so he quickly, after he opened the window, entered your room just to see you coughing.

,,Oi oi oi oi! Breath! Breath, for God’s sake, Mc!’’ he groaned as he helped you up.

It was clear that you choked yourself while trying to throw up.

You were slowly tearing up as you strongly held his arms, but luckily managed to throw up into the bin next to you.

,,I saw black for a short moment,’’ you gasped and sobbed.

,,Who lays back after they throw up? Man, I was about to rescue you mouth to mouth!’’ he told you, making you chuckle.

,,I’m sorry for snapping,’’ he whispered and patted your head, trying to make it as comfortable for you as possible.

,,Sorry for not giving you enough freedom,’’ you mumbled and saw how he smiled as he told you that he didn’t feel like that at all.

You knew that the two of you would talk about it again, but for now you just closed your eyes to get a good rest with him by your side...

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

22.12.2021 // 22:35 MEST

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meetmymouth · 3 years

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prompt 23 would be so cute :)

hope you enjoy!!!! pls don't forget to reblog if you read and enjoyed it :-) ps i haven't proofread this so if you spot any weird mistakes... don't! will edit later x

#23 "Dance with me"

You sigh into your drink before taking another sip, eyes still darting from as you search for him. You make eye contact and as soon as you get that blinding smile of his, your eyes fall to his body, his outfit, and you can't help but admire the tattoos peeking out from where he got one hand in his pocket.

Men are surrounding him, loud cackles and hollers going around as they throw their hands in the air while they presumably talk about something interesting and exciting. Each with a fancy drink in hand, the circle Harry's part of at the minute seems cold and unfamiliar to you. Thus, you find yourself turning away from Harry, finding Shannon and Brian in deep conversation. As soon as Shannon feels your gaze on them, she looks up at you with a smile, and squeezes your thigh, including you in their conversation.

It was hard, acting like you didn't know him or more like– you didn't know him. Details from his tea preference to the pain killers he used when his back hurt, how his lips looked so plump and big upon waking up, or the freckle on his armpit, or the sounds he made in bed, his favourite position, how he liked to be kissed and held.

Harry was newly single. You always said you met him in the right time, four months ago, when he crashed into your car on Oxford Street, leaving a massive dent on your car. As you spent time with him, you realised the dent he left on your car was blossoming somewhere deep inside you, and you thought he did such brilliant job filling said dent with him, his time, his kisses and touches.

You liked him. Perhaps, way more than he liked you.

He wanted you to keep you under the wraps. He said he didn't want people to scrutinise you both, and how he wanted to take things slow, do everything you both wanted to do and have fun together which wasn't the case–according to him–for his previous relationship. So you kept it secret.

"Look at Gigi, trying to chat Harry up again," Shannon mutters from beside you, drink half-empty as she looks Gigi up and down.

See, it was also not fun working with your secret boyfriend. Was he really a boyfriend?

"Whatever. This is so boring. It's just men boosting about their promotions and trying to flirt with women because apparently it's different when they're drunk and outside of work."

Brian lets out a snort, and you cringe, sending him a shy smile. "Soz, Bri. I know they're your mates."

"No worries. They are a crazy bunch, aren't they? I'll go get another drink," he stands up, and takes Shannon's now-empty drink from her hands. He turns to you, "want another drink?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

"All right. See ya in a bit, ladies."

You both watch the brunette walk away, passing Harry and his crew but not before he gives Harry's shoulder a squeeze while you watch. Harry perks up at the touch, then turns his face to you once again, a private smile being sent your way though you can't help but look down at your drink, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

The night starts to die down and people begin leaving, leaving behind a couple of drunk people and either their partners or people who seem to be holding onto the night for their dear lives for some ridiculous reason.

You're by the bar, sipping yet another Margarita as Harry approaches you, his smile polite and one he gives to nearly everyone at work.

"Hey, you," he says, fingers running through his messy hair as he places his drink on the counter. "You good?"

"Yeah. Shannon's puking her guts out in the toilets so I'm just waiting for her."

Harry purses his lips. "Good to know... you don't want to be holding her hair back?" He smirks, and places his hand close to yours where it's holding the glass from the stem. "You look beautiful."

Something ignites inside you and you suddenly feel angry.

"Thanks, I'm surprised you even looked at me tonight."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," you shrug, and take another sip of your drink. It's warm now. "Nothing at all."

He leans closer to you. "What's going on? Did I do something?"

"Hah. That's kinda the point. You didn't do anything."

With brows furrowed, he comes closer to you. "Sounds like you've something to say. Just say it."

"I just did. I'm sick of this. Sick of being a secret," you gulp when he tilts his head. "Sick of watching people flirt with you from afar... I'm just fucking done. Are you like embarrassed of me?"

"Baby, what? What brought this on?"

You let out a bitter chuckle, and look behind him to see if Shannon's anywhere to be found. She's not.

"I'm not eighteen, Harry. I don't like this– this whole secret relationship thing. I want to be able to hug my boyfriend in public, hell– even talk to him instead of watching him from afar! This is not high school. I'm done playing this hiding game. You either have me, or you don't."

Harry clears his throat, and brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing briefly before he travels it all the way up to your neck. He rests his warm fingertips on the side of your neck, thumb stroking your damp neck before he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

For the first time, neither of you look around to see if anyone's watching. Instead, you find yourself extremely overwhelmed as you close your eyes, and listen to his breathing.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, lips almost brushing together when he speaks. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking stupid, I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

You open your eyes, though his gaze is on your lips, which makes your heart beat a little bit faster than it already was a minute before.

"I just want you, Harry," you say with a shake of your head. "I want you."

"I want you too. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry sweetheart," he pulls away, and grabs your hand.

You feel yourself sober up at the touch. "What are you doing?"

"Dance with me."

He helps you off the barstool, though you can't help but frown at the request.

"You're crazy, I'm not dancing with you, here," you squeeze his hand, hoping he would give up, but he answers with a smirk as he shakes his head.

"Come on."

"I'm not doing the whole silent dance thing. Where the girl goes 'there's no music playing' as the guy gives her a cringe smile–"

He places one hand on her waist as the other stays in hers, hips already starting to sway. "��Have I ever told you how much you ramble when nervous?"

"I can't believe you."

"I like you," he whispers into your neck as he keeps swaying you slowly, and you can't help but close your eyes and tilt your head a little so he has more space to work with. "I like you so much, it's terrifying," he mumbles this time, words muffled. "I'm sorry I was an idiot. I hope you can forgive me."

"Yeah, well... if you keep kissing my neck like that..."

Someone clears their throat behind you, and you both pause the swaying for a second before Harry lets out a chuckle, and hides his face into your neck. Though, he still turns you guys around to face the intruder, and it's Shannon. Of course it is. With her brown curls messy and face looking incredibly dull, she looks like she's just seen a ghost.

"Hey," Harry looks up at her, hand still in yours. "You feeling any better?"

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #concepts #anonymous #ask

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eatyourchancletas · 3 years

Text

SUMMARY | y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not! (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce.

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw.

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation…

“looking for something?”

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action.

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room.

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list.

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.”

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n.

“alright, let’s go check out.”

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar.

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.”

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group.

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!”

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!”

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets?

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received.

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him.

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.”

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.”

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair.

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back.

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame.

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room.

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa.

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

#t.k chapter #tinted kisses #kpop x male reader #x male reader #choi san x male reader #san x male reader #choi san #san ateez #ateez fic #ateez series #series #top male reader #ateez #ateez x male reader #kpop imagines #kpop series #kpop fics #ateez fics

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: August

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: July

Note: I’ve had a super busy day, but I wanted to get this posted so I edited it really quickly. Please forgive me if there’s any little mistakes!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and commented! Hearing your thoughts really makes my day!

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August 2020

I think you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who actually enjoys moving - especially if that move involves a three year old who feels the need to be very involved in the packing, but is also incredibly easily distracted. And even more so when that child's father is almost just as distractible and, despite his insistence that he'd stay focused, does more to hinder the whole operation than help.

That was the situation that I found myself in at the end of the first summer of the pandemic because we were moving in with Chris.

While I was hesitant at first, it made the most sense and neither Grayson nor I were particularly eager to return to our tiny little apartment. I still felt that it was pretty early in our relationship for us to be living together, but we'd survived so far and moving back seemed like it would do more harm than good. Grayson had settled in nicely at Chris' house and another big change - like making him go back to having two homes - seemed like it would be very disruptive.

But moving came with it's own challenges.

After our conversation a few months earlier, Chris had told all of his most trusted friends about our change in relationship status. That came in handy as a few of his buddies - who had trucks - had volunteered to help us move things the last weekend of August, but packing had me feeling overwhelmed. I'd managed to give most of the furniture away - between our friends and Chris' family - but we still had way too much stuff.

It was on that Saturday morning that I found myself sitting in the middle of Grayson's old bedroom almost in tears. I'd packed up his mountain of toys the night before only to find Chris and Grayson unpacking several boxes the next morning while I was trying to finish up in the living room. Apparently, Grayson had wanted a certain toy that I'd already packed and instead of telling him to wait because he had several other things to play with that weren't boxed up, Chris helped him look for it.

He was trying to be helpful, thinking that repacking a few things would be easier to deal with than a meltdown from Grayson, but it had been a long, tiring week as I tried to get everything organized and their actions almost pushed me to my breaking point. I scolded them both and banished them to the little playground just outside the building while I set to work cleaning up their mess.

Almost twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on the front door as it creaked open. I poked my head out of the room I was in - ready to send the boys straight back outside - only to see Chris' oldest and closest friend, Tara. She was masked up for safety and knowing how sweet and helpful she was, she was a refreshing sight. I'd met her several times, mostly when Grayson was a baby and I lived with Chris, and she'd been a calming and encouraging presence back then so I was definitely relieved to see her during another time of high stress.

"Hey," I smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought supplies," she informed me, holding up a tray of iced coffees. "Chris called and said that he thought you could use some help."

"You're a lifesaver," I groaned with pleasure as she put down the tray and handed me one of the drinks. "I need this, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she returned my smile. "How's the packing going?"

"Not bad now that the boys are outside," I laughed. "It's pretty much all done, I think. You never realize how much junk you have until you have to pack it all up."

"Oh my god, I know. We moved last year and it felt like the piles of things we had to take was never ending."

"It's crazy," I agreed. "Especially with all Gray's stuff. I thought we did a good job of not spoiling him, but he has an insane amount of toys."

"I can imagine," she cringed. "But I have no plans all day so just tell me what you need help with and I'm all yours."

I thought for a moment as I sipped the coffee she'd brought me until I had an idea.

"Actually..." I started, feeling a bit sheepish. "Would you be willing to take Grayson for a bit? I know it's a big ask, especially while he's so excited, so feel free to say no."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to take him!"

I let out a breath of relief as I felt my body relax.

"Thank you so much. I really need Chris to help me carry these boxes and he's been so preoccupied with Grayson that he's been no use at all," I explained. "It's a big change and he's worried about him being freaked out by it all, which I totally get, but I need him to focus a bit too."

Tara laughed and shook her head.

"I get it, don't worry. I know what he can be like," she assured me. "I'll go down and get Gray now and send Chris up here."

"Thank you. You're the best, Tara."

She waved off my gratitude and insisted it was no problem before leaving me to turn my attention back to what I'd been doing before she arrived.

Once Grayson was in the safe care of Tara, Chris was much more useful. We were packing things with impressive speed and when it was almost time for his friends to show up with their trucks, we started moving things down to the lobby of the building to make the loading process quicker.

I was a tad nervous about the whole situation as I hadn't spent much time with most of Chris' friends and I didn't really know what they thought of me. I hoped they'd be understanding of our situation and give me a chance, but if he really had been pining away for me all these years - thinking that I didn't want to be with him - I worried that they'd think I was selfish and heartless.

Those worries, combined with my stress about getting everything organized, had me still feeling rather on edge. It didn't help that the creepy maintenance man that I'd warned Chris about was watching us like a hawk. I could feel his eyes on me every time I stepped foot in the lobby and the sensation made my skin crawl. I just wanted to get it all done and over with as fast as possible so we could get away from him, but Chris had clearly noticed him too and I could feel his annoyance rising as well.

He held it together until our last trip down when our spectator really crossed a line. I was bending over to place some boxes on the ground when I could have sworn I heard a groan of pleasure from behind me. I snapped back up to standing and looked over my shoulder to see the man with a smirk on his face and his eyes fixed on me. It made my stomach churn, but Chris was immediately by my side, his arm sliding around my waist. Before I could even question what he was doing, he pulled down his mask and then my own, cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me in for a kiss.

It was a rather passionate embrace and I was surprised as he usually wasn't one for public displays of affection. Then it hit me why he was doing it and I felt a flash of annoyance run through me as he pulled away. There was a smirk on his face as he rested his forehead against mine, but all I could muster was a frown.

"Do you think he got the hint?"

I scoffed at his question.

"I think he got enough pictures to pay his bills for the next few months," I huffed, keeping my voice low so we wouldn't be overheard. "Are you done marking your territory now?"

Chris looked taken aback by my harsh tone and I sighed as I slipped out of his grasp and headed to the door. I wanted to see if his friends had arrived yet and get away from the creep, but Chris followed and wasn't prepared to let our conversation drop.

"What, so I'm not allowed to kiss you in public in case someone sees?" He asked once we got outside, his own annoyance coming through. "I thought you didn't care if people found out about us?"

I stopped walking and spun around to face him.

"I don't care," I snapped. "But I'd rather not give some pervert the chance to profit off of us just to save your wounded pride."

Even with his mask pulled back up, I could see Chris' jaw clench with frustration.

"He was being disrespectful. I was standing right there and he moans while staring at your ass? C'mon, he's a fuckin' asshole."

Another flare of anger washed over me as I fought to keep myself calm enough to explain to him why what he'd just said was almost as frustrating as the actions of the man who'd been ogling me.

"He was being disrespectful," I agreed, my voice steady despite my rising temper. "But to me, not to you! It doesn't matter if I have a boyfriend or not, he shouldn't behave like that towards any woman! I don't deserve to be respected because of you, I deserve to be respected because I'm a human being who has a right to feel safe in their own apartment building."

Chris' shoulders dropped as he took in my words and visibly calmed down, but I was still feeling wound up.

"Shit, Winnie, you're right," he relented. "I don't want anyone to treat you like that ever, not just because you're my girlfriend. It just pissed me off that he had the balls to do that even in front of me."

"So kissing me like that to send him a message was the best solution you could think of? Like, 'don't touch this one, she's mine'. It made me feel gross. I don't need you claiming me in public to scare off creeps, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Chris insisted, looking slightly wounded by my scolding. "I'm sorry, I was being an idiot."

"Okay," I shrugged, somewhat blowing off his apology. "We should go to the parking lot. Your friends might be here."

"Are we good, Win?" He asked, clearly not as eager to let the subject drop. "I want to make this right if you're upset..."

"I'm fine," I sighed, knowing that was only half true. It was only half his fault though, the stress of the day overall was more to blame and, at that point, I just wanted it to be over so I could have a nice big glass of wine. "Let's just go see where your friends are."

He didn't argue as I walked off and when we turned the corner into the parking lot, his friends were all there lined up in the visitor's spots. I forced a smile despite the fact that it was hidden by my mask and waved as we walked over.

"Hey!" I greeted them. "Thanks so much for doing this. We really appreciate it."

"Ah, no worries!" Jon assured me. "But, are you really sure you want to move in with this guy?"

"Yeah, we were just talking," Zach continued. "And it feels a bit Stockholm syndrome-y. He confines you to a house and suddenly you fall in love? Seems a bit suspicious."

"Wow, guys, glad you're on my side," Chris laughed. "I wouldn't have asked you to help out if I knew you'd try and change her mind!"

"We just want to make sure we're not committing any crimes here," Luke insisted. "I don't want to be an accomplice to anything and we're all scratching our heads about what she could see in you."

Chris shook his head at their teasing and I tried to push our earlier discussion from my mind as I giggled and slid my hand into his. I felt him tense up in surprise at the gesture, but he relaxed as I squeezed it and leaned against his arm.

"There's no Stockholm syndrome here," I assured them. "It just took a pandemic and the constant threat of impending doom for me to come to my senses. I'm just lucky Chris was silly enough to wait for me."

Chris chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss on the top of my head as his friends rolled their eyes.

We quickly went over the game plan for the day once the initial greeting was over and as soon as his friends turned to head towards the building, I dropped my hand from Chris'. I knew I was being petty and sulky and from the sigh that fell from Chris' lips, he did too, but I couldn't help it - I needed some space to work through my cranky mood on my own. Luckily, Chris seemed to figure that out pretty fast and left me to my brooding as we followed his friends and got to work.

It didn't take us as long as I expected to load all the boxes into the trucks, but that was probably the benefit to having a team of strong men helping you move. Once it was all unloaded into the spare bedroom at Chris' place where I had been sleeping at the start of the pandemic, Chris broke out a few beers for his friends and fired up the grill while we waited for Tara and Gray to arrive. It was a beautiful, warm evening and perfect for an impromptu barbecue to thank all Chris' friends and it was a great opportunity for me to bond a bit more with some of the most important people in Chris' life.

Grayson knew them all better than I did, but we had some concerns that the lack of socialization would make him nervous around the now somewhat unfamiliar faces. But he put those worries to bed almost as soon as he arrived as he was the life of the party. He was thrilled to see the three men who were sitting in the lawn chairs dotted around our yard - in an effort to keep everyone somewhat distant from each other - and the cheer they let out as soon as they saw him made me think they were just as excited. They seemed to really adore him and he thrived on the attention. It warmed my heart to see the genuine care they all had for Grayson - it was wonderful to know he had so many people in his corner - and I was relieved when that care was extended to me.

Any doubts that I'd had about them accepting me were quickly pushed from my mind as they seemed to be just as eager to get to know me as I was to get to know them. They were all lovely, kind people and I wondered why I ever expected anything else from the people in Chris' inner circle.

They left as soon as Grayson's bedtime rolled around - partially because we were all tired from our long day of moving boxes and partially because we all knew there was no way that Gray was going to agree to go to bed while the party was still going. Once they were gone, he demanded Chris tuck him in so I tidied up in the kitchen while he handled bedtime.

As soon as I'd finished putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher, I felt his arms around my waist.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"You don't need to thank me," I smiled, turning in his arms so we were face to face. "It's my house to keep clean too now, even if that's still weird to think about."

"Weird in a good way?"

"Definitely," I nodded. "It's felt like home here for a while now. It would have been awful to go back to that little apartment."

"It would have been weird for me too," Chris agreed. "I can't imagine being in this big house without you guys anymore."

"You'd have to move all your friends in," I teased, using it as a segue. "Who, by the way, are all very nice."

"Yeah?" Chris grinned. "You think so?"

"I do. I was a bit nervous about it," I admitted. "In case they resented me for how our relationship unfolded, but they're great."

"They never resented you at all," Chris chuckled. "Pretty much everyone who knows about our first night together was on your side about that and they've been pushing me to make a move ever since."

"Well, that's good to know."

Chris nodded and continued.

"They all really like you. Jon gave me clear instructions to not fuck it up."

I laughed at that, but felt a wave of relief.

"I appreciate their support."

"Well, you definitely have it."

Chris leaned down to press his lips against mine and I melted into his body, feeling the exhaustion from the stress of the day start to hit me. We stayed like that, just holding each other for a few minutes until Chris broke the silence around us.

"Can we talk about earlier?"

My stomach churned with embarrassment at the memory, but I nodded.

"Of course, we can. I'll start by saying that I'm sorry."

Chris leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at me with his confusion written all over his face.

"You're sorry? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "I brought it up so that I could apologize to you."

"You don't need to," I assured him. "I get why you did what you did. I just don't deal with stress very well and the whole day was overwhelming me. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You don't deal with stress very well? I never would have known!" His words were laced with sarcasm as he smiled down at me and I laughed, gently smacking his chest in protest. "But seriously, I deserved a good scolding. You were absolutely right with what you said, I shouldn't have handled the situation like that."

"I appreciate that you can see where I was coming from," I sighed. "But there is no perfect way to handle a situation like that, really. It's best just to ignore it, but then it feels like you're letting the gross guy win."

"Well, if we're ever in a situation like that again, I'll follow your lead," he insisted. "But I can't say that I'll just ignore it. I might just punch the guy out for being a creep."

I laughed again before shaking my head.

"And then whoever is watching will have a different kind of picture to sell to the trashy magazines."

Chris cringed at that comment.

"I'm sorry. Do you really think he took pictures?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "But if he recognized you then I'd be surprised if he didn't."

Chris nodded, clearly getting lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again.

"And you really don't care if proof gets out that we're together?"

"I don't," I insisted. "I don't like the idea of some pervert making money off of us, but I don't care if people know we're together. It might be good for people to get used to the idea now, when we're hiding at home all the time anyway. By the time we can go outside again, no one will care enough to take pictures of us."

"That might be wishful thinking," Chris smiled. "But I'll do my best to keep you out of the spotlight."

I matched his smile and stretched up to place a kiss on his lips.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

As I predicted, the creepy maintenance man did take pictures of us and he did sell them to some trashy magazine. The internet was horrified, the hearts of fangirls all over the world were broken and I was called every cruel name under the sun. There were rumours that I trapped him with another baby and rumours that I was a gold digger - just using Chris for his money so I didn't have to work during the pandemic. The general reception to the forced confirmation of our relationship was pretty abysmal, but nothing worse than we expected and at the end of the day we didn't care.

All the people who truly cared about us were happy for us and that was the most important thing.

September

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

Text

Café Food and Tattoos

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: One small glance at each other from across the way, has Daniela Dimitrescu enticed. One post-work encounter has her walking R home and visiting R during R’s work hours. Turns out that Daniela is not only there for the café food.

Warning: None, fluff all the way :)

A/N: So, this original idea is from @su-lilly-reblogs and I really love the idea of Daniela being a tattoo artist and I just love this entire idea in general! It’s a little short but I hope this entry is a good one!

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

As you were cleaning a table out on the patio, you heard a door from over next door open. Being the person to always want to see who was coming out of the tattoo place next door, you saw a strawberry-blonde woman step out. You attempt to snap your focus back on bussing tables out on the patio but when you look up at the same woman that had stepped outside, she had noticed you staring at her. The world stopped for you. She looked so enticing to you. You just wanted to drop everything and walk over to her. However, you were snapped back to reality when your elbow made contact with a glass cup. Your instincts had caught the glass just before it could make contact with the ground. You sigh when you looked back up to the tattoo place and the woman was no longer there.

When you stopped at a crosswalk, you shiver at the slight breeze of the cool evening. You regretted not bringing a jacket of some sort. However, you felt a jacket being placed upon your shoulders. You could feel the presence of another person standing next to you. You use your peripherals and from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar strawberry-blonde hair.

"Warm now?" She asks

"Yeah," you slightly smile, "Thanks."

"Daniela Dimitrescu," she answers

"Y/n Y/l/n," you reply

When the crosswalk light had allowed you to cross you noticed that Daniela was walking alongside you.

"So," you break the silence, "How long have you've been tattooing?"

"Since my apprenticeship at 18," she answers, "I mostly tattoo in black and white. Majority of my works are botanical and anatomical."

"Has any client requested a tattoo that was out of your comfort zone?" You ask

"A couple of times," she answers you, "But, the clients loved the end products. So if one would specifically request for something I don't normally do I'll do it."

"Maybe I'll have to get a tattoo done by you one of these days," you smile

From the corner of your eye, you could see that Daniela smiled at your suggestion. What you didn't notice was how she was still be your side long after the both of you met at the crosswalk.

"Did you want someone accompanying you home?" She asks, realizing your silence

"That would be nice," you say, "We're pretty much here already."

You walk up the steps to your house and turn around. You notice that Daniela is no longer in sight.... You sighed as you were going to offer her a cup of coffee to go. Even give her jacket back to her as it was still placed on your shoulders. You couldn't help but take in the scent of herbs and citrus that lingers on her jacket. Maybe she'll stop by tomorrow... I'll give her jacket back then.

The following morning was a mess. Table after table you barely could keep yourself steady trying to wait tables, clean the tables etc. You weren't the only one on the floor however, nearly everyone requested for your presence specifically. It was hell.

"Y/n, a table is requesting for you," your coworker says

Great... Just when you were able to breathe. You compose yourself and head back out onto the floor but you freeze.

"Daniela?" You call out, walking toward her with a menu in your hands

"Hi y/n," she smiles

"Fancy seeing you here," you smile back, "What can I get you to drink?"

"Water," she says, looking up at you

When you return to her table with a glass of water, you go on to check on your other tables with the assistance of your coworker.

"Sorry about that, its been a mess all morning," you sigh, seating yourself across from Daniela

"That’s okay love," she says

"You know what you want to eat yet?" You ask, taking out your notepad

"Are you on the menu?" She flirts

Your heart skips a beat, your cheeks flush red, you look at her surprised. Daniela giggles as she watches your face.

"What’s wrong love? Cat got your tongue?" She asks, smiling menacingly

The only thing you could do was nearly choke on your own spit before Daniela actually tells you what she wants. With haste you make your way back into the kitchen to give the chef Dani's order and catch your breath.

"One of the best tattoo artists in town, enticed by the awkward café waitress," your coworker laughs

"Shut it Clarice," you sigh, "We only met last night."

"She apparently dedicates her life to tattooing," she explains, "No one to get attached to. But, you can change that, I think it's time for you to get out there. With her. Maybe even get a tattoo done by her."

"Are you crazy?!" You ask, "She's so out there and I'm me. So who am I kidding??"

"Just look through your cameral roll for some inspiration for a tattoo, I’m sure the two of you can negotiate something in the next couple of weeks," Clarice suggests, "You got your tips, hourly pay you've been saving for this tattoo haven't you?"

You nod. You only have one tattoo. You've been dreaming about getting another one but you haven't really looked into it. You didn't plan to until you had enough money to have it done. You hear the chef calling out Daniela's order and you begin reaching for it.

"I'll check on your other tables," your coworker says, "Just book that appointment with Daniela."

You nod, because your coworker will make sure you do so if she found out you chickened out.

"Took you long enough," Daniela teases

You smile as you place the plate of food in front of her and seat yourself across from her once more.

"Do you have any tattoos?" Daniela asks

You roll up your left sleeve to reveal an arrow tattoo with a color in one of the three triangles.

"I got this when I turned 18 with my older sister," you say, "I've been saving up for another tattoo. But I don't think I have saved enough yet nor have I done research on artists to do it on me."

"Hit me with the design," Daniela suggests

You open your phone to reveal a botanical anatomy piece.

Daniela looks at your phone in awe, "I'll do it."

"What?" You ask, putting your phone away

"I'll do that tattoo on you," she says

"R-really?" You ask, your mood changing

She nods happily. You sigh in relief.

"How much do you normally charge?" You ask

"For you my dear, I'll discount it," she answers, "Normally, that kind of piece would be $600-$700."

You, again almost choke on your own spit. However, re-composing yourself.

"I'll do it for $400," Daniela says

You've saved up at least $300 as of your last paycheck. However, since the tips are really piling and you look pay is tomorrow, you have hope.

"When are you free?" She asks

"I'm pretty much free Mondays and Tuesdays," you say

Daniela pulls out her phone and supposedly looks through her calendar.

"How does Tuesday at 3pm sound to you?" She asks

"Works for me," you smile brightly

You leave to get Daniela's check and pay for her food. It was the least you could do for her. She practically got to book your dream tattoo. You go on and check on your other tables, running their checks, your coworker bussing the tables for you.

"Where were we?" You ask

"My check?" Daniela asks

"Don't worry about that," you say, "It's the least I can do for you."

"Thank you y/n," she smiles, "I gotta run. Work is about to open."

She stands from her seat and walks by you. However, before she leaves she leans down to your face and places a kiss on your cheek and then walks out. You just remembered about her jacket. Damnit...

Tuesday couldn't come soon enough. You've been working your arse off at the café. Daniela would pop in during her breaks to come say hi or order some food to go. You had long sent the image you had shown Daniela on Thursday to her. She’s talked about how excited she is to do that big of a piece. You told her that you had wanted it on your right outer forearm.

"So you didn't even HAVE to ask Daniela to do that tattoo?! Man, that's golden! She's definitely into you if she had cut down the price by THAT much," your coworker states

"Is she?" You ask, blushing

"Oh come on, if I didn't see how she looks at you when you talk to her, I wouldn't be saying that she's definitely into you," she says

"You have a point," you say

"Did you get her number?" She asks

"No," you say, "We've barely had time as is. She heads straight home to work on the piece for me and I'm busy here. Only chance I get is Tuesday."

"You better girl," she says before walking off to a table

When Tuesday had finally come, you tuck the tattoo fee in one pocket and her tip mixed with your phone number in the other. You take a deep breath before opening the door to the tattoo shop next to your own work.

"Y/n!" Daniela smiles as she comes walking over to you to give you a hug

"So I just finished up your tattoo and I just wanted to run through it with you," She says

"Dani, didn't we both agree on whatever you do is fine with me?" You smile and jokingly sigh

"Yes but I just want to have your approval anyway," she smiles

She takes her iPad and opens up to her editing app and shows you. You noticed that Daniela edited the work a lot to her style of work. And you loved it.

"Lets get that bad boy tattooed on me Dani," you smile

She has you fill out paperwork as the stencil begins printing itself out. You hand back the paperwork to her and she leads you to the back of the shop, leading you into a separate room, presumably her studio.

"Welcome to my humble studio," she smiles, "Just sit your little cute butt in the big chair and give me a hot minute."

You watch her cut out the stencil and watch her concentrate on applying the stencil to your arm. You try to keep yourself as steady as possible so she wouldn't have to reapply the stencil.

"Relax love," Daniela says, as if she could feel your tension

"I don't want to accidentally move my arm," you say

Once she removes the stencil, she backs away, "Check that out and see if you like the placement."

"I love it," you almost squeal

You again watch her prep her tattoo machine and begin concentrating on you.

The pain was unbearable but it was a pretty big tattoo that you had picked out. Daniela barely talked though. But, you assumed it was because she was concentrated on your piece.

“Hey, I have your jacket and-”

“Keep it love,” She says without looking up at you

“Are-are you sure?” You ask

“You look good in it y/n,” She finally looks up at you, smiling

You smile back at her.

Once she removes the excess tattoo ink she guides you to step outside with her for her to take a picture. After the fact, you two go back into her studio to have her put saniderm on your arm.

"Now keep that on for a couple of days for me okay?" She smiles

You nod. You reach into one pocket and pull out the $400 Daniela requested for the piece and then reach into the other and hand it to her.

"Why thank you love," she smiles

"That's not all," you say

You lean forward and give her a kiss on the cheek. She somewhat gives you the same face you did when she did the same to you.

"Will I see you at the café tomorrow?" She asks

"You will," you wink at her before making your leave

She opens the piece a paper: a $40 tip and a note.

"If you want to get together sometime outside of having café food and tattoos," Daniela read aloud

At the bottom of the note, was your phone number.

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #female reader #modern au #tattoos #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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moved-to-void-kissed · 3 years

Text

Split of Twin Flowers

After being rescued from the realm of darkness, Aria seeks a way to give Ves a chance at living her own life, while also continuing to survive in her own right. Aqua brings her to the scientists at Radiant Garden to see if they have a solution, and for Aria to explain her situation, but the only option available may carry some worrying implications.. (3937 words)

Takes place after the ending of KH3. Content warning for mentions of battle scars, talk of a character being possessed, an event comparable to an exorcism (it’s kind of hard to explain in non-series-specific terms, sorry), and rather a lot of self-insert-focused exposition.

(Comments on and reblogs of my work are always okay, and appreciated, but are by no means required. I recommend reading this piece on the original document, but if that doesn't work, a transcript has been copied and pasted under the readmore.)

This is a piece I have been working on for a long time, and am very proud of, so I really appreciate anyone who takes the time to read it. I hope it isn’t quite as heavy as the content warnings may possibly indicate. I’m also using it as my post for the twenty-ninth day of sapphic September; there’s just one more to go!

Document transcript:

The door to the laboratory opened halfway, and a young woman tentatively poked her head around it. Upon seeing that she was not interrupting anything, she smiled and emerged more properly, brushing a lock of blue hair from her face.

“Oh, Master Aqua!” The lone scientist in the room smiled warmly as he noticed her. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Thank you, Ienzo.” Aqua replied, even if she did still in fact look rather tired. The long battle to defeat Master Xehanort and the true Organisation still felt fresh in her mind, and although it was a fight that the light had eventually won, it had still taken quite a toll on her. Not only that, but she hadn’t had the same chance to rest as the others - though thoughts of locating Sora still weighed on everyone’s minds, Aqua had been more concerned with finding a way back into the realm of darkness in order to rescue Aria, her partner who she had so unwillingly abandoned..

Now that Aria was finally free as well, Aqua could let herself relax a bit more, and with that lowering of her guard came much contemplation of everything she had gone through.

“Um.. Master Aqua?”

“Ah!”

She’d been staring off into space again, judging by Ienzo’s worried expression half-visible under his hair.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, don’t worry!” she replied, slightly embarrassed at her lapse in concentration. The young scientist did not look entirely convinced, but he seemed content enough to continue.

“I’m the only one here at the moment, but I should still be able to help with what we talked about over the Gummiphone. Did you happen to bring Aria with you?”

At this, the half-open door Aqua had come through continued to swing open as if of its own accord, only to reveal another young woman entering the laboratory with a somewhat nervous expression. She had clearly been through a lot, and the realm of darkness she had reportedly been trapped in for aeons had definitely left its mark on her; several large patches of darkness could be seen spanning her face and body, with one reaching down her left eye like a melting wound.

“Yes, I’m here..”

Her catlike eyes flickered nervously around the room, and it soon became apparent that what Ienzo had thought was a cape were in fact a pair of black feathered wings, both subconsciously curling around her shoulders. It was only upon recognising that Ienzo was the only one present, and that his initial reaction to seeing her was not as negative as she was expecting, that she was able to relax slightly and explain herself from behind a now-steeled facade.

“My name is Aria.” she said, looking up at the scientist from under her messy blonde hair. “Aqua said you might be able to help me achieve something. Has she already.. told you about, well-”

“We’ve already spoken a little bit using the Gummiphone I was given before, but he said it was best for us to come and talk in person to try and get everything clear.” Aqua stepped in after sensing Aria’s hesitation and took her hand to support her partner. “It’s alright - you can trust him,” she whispered close to her ear.

Trusting only in her love’s reassurance, Aria started to explain her intentions to Ienzo, who seemed content to listen even considering the clear presence of darkness she had; this silent gesture of tolerance was greatly appreciated. She appeared hesitant to reveal much of her true nature as a Heartless, but she did what she could to inquire whether the young scientist knew any way for a heart to be released from its current body and inhabit a different one, allowing the dormant self within the original body to reawaken. Unfortunately, Ienzo remained pensive, even after she had said her part.

“So, you’re looking for a way for a heart to enter a new body? I’m sorry, but.. I’m not sure we’ll be able to help you. Any of the resources we could have used - which is to say, the replicas, they would have been perfect for this - were taken by Roxas, Xion, and Naminé’s hearts.”

“Oh. So, there is nothing you can do?” Aria persisted, but Ienzo shook his head.

Then came a flash of hesitant inspiration.

“Unless..” He trailed off and turned to look down one of the corridors leading away from the main lab space. “Could you two come with me, please?”

“Of course!” said Aqua brightly, as Aria nodded in assent.

==========

The three left the main hub of the laboratory to walk down the corridor, which felt as though it was turning downwards into a basement level of sorts. Once there, they came to a tall door which Ienzo unlocked with some sort of biometric scanner, and this opened out into yet another laboratory space with a similar layout to the first - however, this one seemed in a less presentable condition than the other, and its lack of windows seemed to be what was giving it a more foreboding presence. There was a distinct sense that something bad had happened here, once upon a time.

“After you and the other Guardians of Light helped to defeat Master Xehanort,” Ienzo was saying to Aqua, “we went back to the Keyblade Graveyard to see if there was anything to salvage from the battlefield, and we were able to bring this back with us.”

He gestured to a container at the far wall, in which the two Keyblade wielders could now see a strange white figure suspended inside, resembling a featureless mannequin. It appeared to be dressed in some kind of dark robes, of a dull purple colour inlaid with sharp red motifs, worn over pieces of tarnished metal armour. A number of scuffs and dents littered the otherwise-smooth surface, and Aria could sense traces of a dark presence seeping from the container, despite the blank nature of the figure itself.

“What is this..?”

“This is one of the replicas that Even created, back when he was still Vexen, and a member of the first Organisation.” Ienzo explained. “The first twelve were prototypes, initially abandoned as failures, since they were made before his assistant provided the data needed to perfect them, but.. From what I understand, the real Organisation - which Vexen was also a part of at the beginning - repurposed those twelve into vessels for Xehanort’s heart, as backups in case the people they brought through time fell in battle again.”

“That’s right, I remember fighting these now.” muttered Aqua. “But, didn’t they fuse into one form, eventually?”

“That’s what I thought, too, from your accounts of the situation.” replied the scientist. “I’m not sure if Sora defeating the replicas in battle made them all separate out again, since they weren’t really designed to be fused, or if this one was already too damaged to combine with the others in the first place. Regardless, it was the only one we recovered.”

He now turned to face the blank figure with a concerned expression. “We’ve been running some experiments to see whether it can be repurposed for anything, but.. There’s a lot of darkness still lingering within it, so it wouldn’t be safe for a heart of light to inhabit without risking it also being afflicted by that darkness. And we haven’t found a good way of destroying that darkness without compromising the replica, either.”

“I could sense the dark power when I saw it, so corruption would seem a likely outcome.” Aria mused. “This would also be darkness from Xehanort, so.. it isn’t that surprising that some part of it stuck around. Persistence did seem to be his only worthwhile trait.”

She had crossed her arms in contempt at this last part, but seemed satisfied enough to relax after studying the replica further. “It shouldn’t matter any more than he did in the long run, though.”

“Hmm..” Aqua seemed concerned about the prospect, but was trying to keep an open mind. “What do you make of it, Aria?”

“Well..” She took a moment to examine the figure with an unchanging expression. “The replica body itself has sustained some damage from the fight, but I don’t see why that would affect my ability to inhabit it - it’s just possible that those injuries would reflect in my new appearance, which is.. nothing I’m not accustomed to. And, if the heart within a replica determines its appearance, then maybe what’s left of my heart - or, I suppose, the heart that I once was - would be able to smooth over those gaps. Though, if it’s the latter, that could mean my appearance ends up changing, which.. is not what I want.”

Aqua tentatively nodded, but Ienzo seemed more visibly confused.

“I’m sorry to interject, but- what do you mean by “the heart that you once were”? You’re saying that that’s different to your heart, somehow?”

“..In a sense, yes. How do I explain this..?” There was a slight pause as Aria tried to gather her thoughts, and it was clear she was still trying to think by the hesitant nature of her words that followed. She had seen right through to the heart of the man standing before her, which glowed with a newly-restored lustre. It was a heart that sought to help people, and sought knowledge in order to do that, though there were visible flickers of a long-seated regret present as well. Still, it was a heart that she judged would not judge her, so she decided to provide it with the truth she hoped would sate it.

“Though I look mostly human to you, this- isn’t technically my body, however much I treated it as such. If I were to let go of this vessel, or be driven out from her, you would see me as I really am - a Heartless, a flowering thing. However, Heartless are created when a heart is consumed by darkness, so.. surely the appearance I would take if I were to possess a blank replica would be that of the person this heart - my heart - used to belong to. Only, I don’t- I don’t really see myself as him, or as Ves. I am different, I am my own- well, person, if I can even call myself that. Yet, when I imagine my appearance outside of this vessel, I can only see myself as a Heartless. Does that make any sense?”

“I think I follow..” the scientist mumbled, though his still-furrowed brow seemed to indicate otherwise. “So, you kept your memories of who you were, even after turning into a Heartless? Kairi had implied that the same thing happened to Sora, but.. I’d just attributed that to him turning the Keyblade of heart on himself to free her, so it wouldn’t have happened to anyone else.”

This claim caused Aria to shake her head. “To my knowledge, the method is irrelevant; what matters is the intention. The more willingly a person opens their heart to the darkness, the more of their mind they keep when their heart is consumed, and they become a Heartless. I believe this is what happened with Ansem, though he actively sought after darkness so strongly that he retained a human appearance as well as mind. The emblem on his chest was the only way an onlooker could tell his true nature. When it comes to my original self, he was a Keyblade wielder, very similar to what I know of Sora, but… though he certainly did not willingly or deliberately let his heart be consumed, he was able to accept his fate in his final moments, and that is what allowed the Heartless formed at his demise - so, in other words, me - to retain some semblance of mind and self. Just.. not as much of it.”

“Oh. Yes, I think that makes more sense now. Thank you for the clarification.” said Ienzo. He was writing something furiously in a book that seemed to appear out of nowhere, then became startled when he realised his blunder. In an instant, he opened his mouth to ask something, but closed it with relief when Aria’s expression reassured him she did not mind him making notes about her.

It was Aqua’s turn to speak up now. “It’s so interesting to hear about this from you, Aria - but, I can’t say I’ve seen that kind of behaviour in any of the Heartless I’ve fought before. Had you noticed it at any point while we were in the realm of darkness?”

“Not that I can recall.” she replied. “It isn't exactly that common of an occurrence, considering most people’s disdain for the darkness. And, not only that, but..” She turned away from the other two here, and her next words came much more reluctantly again.

“Before I took over Ves, I remember feeling that I was losing myself - all I was driven by was this desire to be complete again, to be human again, but that was fading away over time. Then, when I found her, I didn’t necessarily feel more human, but what sense of humanity I did have was no longer fading away. So, if I hadn’t found her or someone like her in time, I probably would have lost my sense of self completely, and become just as mindless as most other Heartless are. It’s only thanks to the type of Heartless I became that I was even able to possess her in the first place, and.. I didn’t start to truly feel more like a person until I met other Keyblade wielders, and they interacted with me.”

“I see, I see.. So you’re saying that, in those Heartless that retain a sense of who they were before becoming Heartless, the remnants of normal heart behaviour - of humanity, if you will - have to be nurtured by others in order to be sustained, and will just be lost to the darkness if not actively encouraged?”

“Yes.”

Ienzo paused to finish hastily scribbling this knowledge down in his notebook, then lifted his head in realisation once he had had some time to think. “I think I might remember something of that from the old Organisation, actually.. Though, the memory is very hazy..”

To stop his mind from wandering as it wanted to, he returned to address the matter at hand.

“From what you’ve said, Aria, it does sound like you’d be able to make use of this replica - and you may well be the only one who could. I don’t think there’s any other solution here for you, and.. I say there’s no better way to find out than by experimenting. Give me a moment to get everything ready, and then we’ll be set to see if it works!”

Aria nodded, content with the proposal, but Aqua reached out to take her hand with a worried expression.

“Aria, are you sure you want to do this..?”

“Of course I am, Aqua. This is why I came here.” she replied. Then she hesitated again. “..Why, is there something wrong?”

“Well, no, it’s just-” Aqua took a moment to settle her whirling thoughts, holding both of Aria’s hands in her own now. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when I use my Keyblade on you. I don’t want to hurt you, or even destroy you. And, if something happened with the darkness infecting the replica, then..”

Aria couldn’t bring herself to meet Aqua’s gaze, but it was clear she appreciated the consideration, and did her best to reassure her love. “If I could leave of my own accord, I would have done so by now, but.. we’ve become too intertwined for me to do that myself. And Ves is not quite strong enough to drive me out from within - it’s enough of an effort for her to stay existing in the first place. So.. an outside force seems to be the only way to separate us. And there isn’t anyone I’d trust to wield that force, other than you.”

Despite herself, Aqua couldn’t help but smile at the last admission, and she felt her normal confidence returning. “..Alright then. If you’re sure about this, then.. I’m happy to be able to help.”

The two embraced for a moment, then there was a pause of silence as Aria took a few steps back to stand in the middle of the room. Once Ienzo had brought the replica out of its container, he carried it around to the other end of the laboratory, closer to the other two. Aqua summoned her Brightcrest Keyblade, then slowly raised its tip to be level with the X on Aria’s outfit. She took a deep breath, then pointed the Keyblade directly at her partner, echoing the movement used to open the paths to new worlds.

Aria instinctively flinched when a thin beam of bright light shot forward from the tip of Aqua’s Keyblade, striking her directly in the chest. She was then forced down into a kneel as an aura of pink-tinted darkness began to escape from her body. Her expression was grim, as if she was in pain, but Aqua caught sight of a hint of a smile before the darkness now emanating much more rapidly from her form started rising up to create something above her. It almost completely engulfed her body as if to pull it upwards too, seeming particularly concentrated around her head and wings, before disconnecting entirely to drop a drained figure to the floor. This left a dense collection of dark pink wisps, amalgamating in the air.

Ienzo was now well off to the side, looking rather alarmed, but his expression was replaced with complete surprise when the amorphous cluster of darkness coalesced, giving way to what looked like a floating mass of pink petals. Eventually, it turned around to reveal a large jagged mouth and piercing yellow eyes, staring with an expression he found difficult to interpret. The Heartless stayed floating in place for a moment, as if disoriented, then suddenly appeared to notice Aqua, staring at her curiously.

“Aria..?”

Her tentative call was clearly recognised by the flowering monster, which began to float cautiously towards her. She still had her Keyblade summoned, and her hand was trembling ever-so-slightly - whether with nervousness, uncertainty, or something else entirely, it was impossible to tell. Then, Ienzo stepped between the two and lifted up the replica body, hoping that Aria still remembered the plan.

“Here!”

It seemed the Heartless remained aware, as she moved forwards more purposefully after this, and collided directly with the empty vessel’s centre. A few petals scattered from the force, but it took only a few moments for the Heartless’ form to disappear entirely, appearing to be absorbed into the replica body. This caused another aura of darkness to manifest, enveloping the blank surface of the replica and making Ienzo recoil from the body - but it caught itself as it fell from his grasp to end up kneeling on all fours. A few more moments passed, as the darkness engulfed the entire body in a shell, before gradually dissipating after a few gold sparks were seen being forced out of the system.

The figure that stood up was slightly smaller than the replica had looked in the container, with catlike ears now poking upwards from a fluffy head of golden blonde hair. As she lifted her head, a cluster of cute freckles were seen scattered across her face, though in what Aqua thought was a slightly different arrangement than before. There were other little differences here and there, as well - the shape of her face, the way her hair fell at the back, how she stood dressed in the unfamiliar clothes from the replica in the middle of the silent laboratory.

But all of Aqua’s worries disappeared when the girl standing before her opened her eyes. Neither the bright, empty yellow of the lesser, mindless Heartless, nor a piercing orange like the seeker of darkness, nor even the harsh cold shade between the two that Aria’s eyes had been before, but a warm and resolute amber was the colour that met Aqua’s gaze, and regarded her with a renewed sense of gratitude and love.

“Aria!”

The Keyblade Master ran across the room towards her partner and nearly knocked her over with the energy of her emotions. Aria was nervous, but comfortably allowed herself to melt into Aqua’s embrace, now able to feel the connection between the pair even more strongly than before. Something felt so much more tangible about her presence now, and the relief coursing through her new body was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Aqua, it really worked..!” she smiled, speaking in a quiet voice filled with gratitude.

“I’m so glad you’re alright!” exclaimed Aqua, who also had a few tears in her eyes. “How do you feel? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s all fine, I promise.” she asserted. “The replica’s darkness was not organised; it was just remnants that my presence has removed. I feel.. different, but in the best possible way. I could never have done this without you here with me - thank you, so much, for being here..”

She trailed off, still smiling at her partner, and another wonderful moment came and went. Then, a movement from behind Aqua caused Aria’s expression to take on a slightly fearful quality, and she turned her head to see what was happening. The cause of this movement was the figure left behind when Aqua set Aria free, who was slowly trying to get to her feet, her heart’s light flickering nervously. A bright green eye could be seen darting anxiously around the room from under her hair, but she was too weak to properly move, and quickly fell back to the ground again. Ienzo stepped in to support her, and his assistance was clearly welcomed as she was just about able to stand.

“Please take her somewhere she can recover.” Aria requested hurriedly. “After everything I put her through, she needs every opportunity she can to rest and adjust to being herself again..”

“Don’t worry. We have good facilities here.” Ienzo assured her. “Everything will be fine.”

This did little to ease Aria’s guilt, but the gesture was nevertheless appreciated. “Thank you, Ienzo.”

The scientist nodded, and then slowly helped the girl walk to the corridor. She appeared to be very shaken, and was glancing at everything with apprehension and unfamiliarity, but as she turned the corner of the corridor, she looked back at the couple still standing side-by-side, and met the eyes of both her saviour and her prison.

(For all that you have done to me, I know why you do not deserve forgiveness.

But, this is not the first time we have seen each other face-to-face since that day, thanks to that mirror you found in the darkness.

And ever since that moment, you have sought a way to free yourself from me. To let me live the life you once denied me. To break the hold that any other being you’d call your kind would do everything to strengthen.

You calculated the risks, but you still took them - the risk you would lose everything and the one person you cared for, for the sake of me getting to “get rid of you”.

So, who am I to judge a person - the person you have become - by the actions of the creature you once were..?)

A ghost of a smile flickered over her face, and the long-held vessel finally free again spoke of her own accord for the first time since the age of ancient fairytales.

“Thank you, Aria..”

#a call from the void #creations from the void #kingdom hearts selfshipping #this post is okay to reblog!#sapphicseptember2021 #selfship #selfshipping #love: wayfinding waters (aqua)#selfship: survivors of the dark (aqua/aria)#self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#and also featuring #self‑insert: ruby in the light (ves)#read the post carefully before opening the readmore please #or opening the document (which is how I recommend reading this one)#I have spent a long time trying to write this piece #i am proud of it

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maybemanyskeletonhats · 3 years

Text

KISS

Hello, this is for the people who leave the nice comments and tags (yes I look at the reblogs, they really help my morale.) UNEDITED.

Genre: Fluff galore. Seriously.

Edit. There was more to Teldryns scenario. But tumblr ate it or character limit maybe?

Edit 2. It's fixed. Apparently it ate the tags I put on too.

Sotha Sil bares the burden of cruel certainty. And he can say it's something he's used too but it does weigh heavily on him. This is different when it comes to the tantalizing affections of his lover. That being said this mortal turned god knows what he wants. He wants them. It's the rampant thoughts that plague him about how to ask them for it that make him pause. He usually saved the affections for when the doors were closed and he knew no one would intrude yet here of all places his chest thumped and his lips tingled with anticipation. Why wouldn't they want it? A crimson gaze fell on the vestige who sat idle, quiet. Their fingers loose and relaxed around the spear he had given them. He wouldn't tell them where it came from, or rather who it belonged too. But as far as he was concerned. They wielded it as if it was apart of themselves. He hears them say his name, soft, worried. He must have be staring at them. Gods, he doesn't regret any time he spends looking at them. He doesn't respond even as he gently taps the side of their jaw, guiding their face to look at his. After a moment of them staring at one another, the vestige silently nodded. Seht connected their mouths together sweetly. So maybe he can't voice his wants the way other people can, but he did ask for it...in his own way, right?

Almalexia tried to give herself the idea that she never got to the point of desperation. That there was never any time when she felt that she needed to kiss the life out of her vestige. That nothing in Tamriel could make her so happy or so worried that carnal need became her priority. It was when the vestige returned to her, their face filled with exhaustion even as they sat still in the wagon. They are finally home, she thought breathlessly. Gone for three whole months that stretched on like a thousand years to her. They were a hero, a mortal, they saved Tamriel whether she liked it or not. If there was anyone in this whole world that deserved her affections, was it not them? Her feet touched the warm stone beneath her. Her golden eyed gaze widening as they slowly looked up. Eyes making contact with hers. The exhaustion that was filled to the brim in their eyes disappeared, and their slumped position turned into one of high alert. They jumped out, ignoring the distressed cries of the others with them. Ayem began to feel her feet move, unconsciously picking up speed till she was breaking into a small jog. All other thought was gone at the thought of them. It was them. She missed them. She missed them so much. As soon as they collided together, hands fervently gathering each other up. "Can I kiss you?" She asked simply, fingers tracing their lips. The vestige doesn't even wait, slamming their lips onto hers. Rule like a queen, kiss like a queen.

Vivec knows he wants to kiss them. The days after they've come to call themselves lovers drift in and out of his mind frequently. He knows he'll soon not have the luxury of claiming godhood for much longer, not that he's complaining. At least, with whatever time he has left, he wouldn't see them go before him. But for now, let's love like mortals do. He mused quietly to himself. In his lap the Nerevarine gave him an odd look but shook it off. He often said strange things that they would never quite understand. "It's humorous that as you arrive, your immortality comes, and mine drifts away like stars in the morning light." He begins, eyelashes tickling his cheeks. "I suppose that it matters not anymore. Should the Sharmat have succeed, none of us would be here. It was the right decision." He confessed. He didn't feel as conflicted about it, he surmises that that's what bothers him so. Time changes all, something Sil would have jumped to remind him of. He meets their gaze, their nose brushing against his jaw. 'I still love you, god or not. If it means anything.' They murmured, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. It was then he felt completely mortal, not a god, not a beloved figure. But someone normal, someone who grew old like others and got married, had children. "It does." His right hand came down to rub patterns onto their arm. "Am I allowed to kiss you..?" He questioned lazily, arm tightening around their middle. The Nerevarine's smokey gaze locked with his, their face growing warm. 'Like I'd say no, right?' Vehk merely hums, the arm wrapped around their middle sliding up to cuff the back of their neck. The god turned mortal pressed his lips to theirs in a rare moment of unyielding affection.

Voryn Dagoth's heart slams against his ribcage every time they enter a room. He was sure if it got any more louder they'd be able to hear it. Never had he ever so desperately wanted someone to himself. Voryn finds himself wringing his hands as he looks at them, anxiously chewing the inside of his cheek. 'Is something wrong?' They asked, head tilting. Voryn gives a hesitant smile, eyes shining with nervousness. "Yes, yes of course. I'm fine. Just thinking about something so hard it's abit...troubling." They gave him a look of sympathy, comfortingly grabbing his arm. This only made the Chimer man fidget. "I want to kiss you. Very much so." He blurts, instantly regretting it. They arch a brow at him, and nod slowly. 'Then kiss me?' Is all he needs to hear as he presses his lips to theirs in heated desperation.

Neloth leans back against his desk, arms crossed. His lips pulled into a careful line. It's not as though they were doing anything to bother him, they were just sitting there. Yet...he scowled. He was courting them, so it wasn't as if the want for some romance was alien. Neloth knew he could be hotheaded. But he loved them. The elf cursed underneath his breath. Why was it so hard to kiss someone? The Nerevarine's stops their idle humming and rolls their neck to look at him. Amusement shining in their eyes. "Oh you are insufferable aren't you?" Neloth breathes. They knew. Of course they knew. He forgets that they tease just as much as he does. He lets out a noise of exasperation, standing straight. Neloth walks over to them, leaning over their chair, his hands braced on the arm rests. The nerevarine sits still as a statue, grin still visible with the red ting across their face growing. His hand comes up to knot itself in their nape, pressing a surprsingly slow but deliberate kiss upon them. When he pulls back his face feels a lot warmer from where he started. "N'chow, there. It's of my system now at least."

Divayth Fyr usually has his hands occupied with some experiments or research. But feeling up the Nerevarine wasn't that bad right? Hands running up and down their sides he almost felt a need to keep them caged against his desk. If they didn't like it, they would have done something or said something much earlier right? Divayth's slightly stubbly chin runs across their cheek till he can press a kiss to their forehead. "Could always have you...if I wanted too right?" He breathes, nose brushing across theirs in a rare display of affection. His much larger hands come up to separate the small hands that had latched into his shirt twenty or so minutes before. "Want you...want to kiss you. You make me feel things." He whispered helplessly against their skin. Divayth barely hears the quiet consent before he's giving them a slow, passionate kiss.

Mannimarco has rare moments where he feels... possessive. But in a soft, non threatening way. His nose tenderly brushes the crown of their hair, his fingers kneading into their waist. Grip firm and assuring. Maybe he was in a good mood, he mused to himself. Didn't particularly feel that strong, bordering on vicious need to separate them from every man they interacted with. "Don't want you talking to peasants." He huffs, tightening his hold. He hears them laugh and his face burns as he rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should just marry that at that point, make them the King/Queen they ought to be at this point. What was the chances he could make them see his way about things then?

Cold fingers run on their side, feeling the warm body pressed to his cower away from the sensation. He grins mockingly. "Will I have to beg you for affection? Or am I going to have to do it myself?" The Vestige merely grins, the twinkle in the eyes he grew to knew so well the last few months. He scoffs, though his lips threaten to rise upward into a smile. His fingers dance up to nest into their nape, his other coming to tilt their chin up. "Mine.." He says with an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. "Or at least, I'm hoping you are..." His eyes betray him showing the vulnerability inside, in a rare show of open love, Mannimarco presses a firm but gentle kiss onto his Vestige.

Teldryn Sero doesn't cuddle often. Not when they're awake of course. He doesn't like to appear clingy, he's already glued to their side as is. The only spellsword from around Solstheim behind the legendary Dragonborn of Tamriel. The only one of their kind. It's not as though he wasn't getting glory though..he thought, his fingers drifting down the flat of their back. The hammock they've been lying in swaying gently with the breeze. "Your thoughts are too loud." They murmur against his collarbone. Teldryn feels a laugh bubble in his chest. Sometimes, just sometimes they could be more observant. "I'm a spellsword, subtly is not in my arsenal." His lips quirk upward as he fondly rubs his chin across their hair. "Too bad..." They start, fingers tracing patterns on his ribs. "About time you've learned another skil other then making wise remarks." They finish as he feels them smile playfully against him. Teldryn snorts in amusement, eyes fluttering closed. "All apart of the package you bought..." He hears a small 'tch' in response. "Better have a receipt." They fireback, slapping his arm. "No refunds, Sera." This time he grins, angling his face down so he can bring them into a heated kiss.

~°~°~°~°~

Translations:

N'chow is essentially the dunmer way of saying 'Damn'

#the elder scrolls #sotha sil #elder scrolls morrowind #vivec #eso #elder scrolls #almalexia #neloth #teldryn sero #divayth fyr #mannimarco

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dat-silvers-girl · 2 years

Text

I posted 3,369 times in 2021

161 posts created (5%)

3208 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.9 posts.

I added 1,197 tags in 2021

#hogwarts mystery - 244 posts

#hphm - 235 posts

#harry potter hogwarts mystery - 152 posts

#sarahi silvers - 127 posts

#hphm mc - 94 posts

#hogwarts mystery mc - 89 posts

#miitopia - 65 posts

#hphm x miitopia - 65 posts

#miitopia 3ds - 64 posts

#patricia rakepick - 62 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#if i have to go to college this monday again i'll be this close to deleting my wips just so that i can study things nobody cares about

My Top Posts in 2021

Friday Night Funkin: Sphinx Club edition

Here you go @weirdcursedvaultkid!!! In reference to this, Merula and Ismelda are now ready for a proper rap battle!

Have fun bopping on the speakers, Alex! ❤️

60 notes • Posted 2021-05-16 21:06:25 GMT

"I've never gone all out before. I'll show you what I can do."

I enjoyed the duel with Rakepick in chapter 42 and all, but I really wish it was more epic. In my headcanon, Sarahi uses the smokescreen spell, Fumos, to distract Rakepick and when the smoke cleared, she'd literally pointed dozens of arrows at her. That was obviously not good.

Made a loading screen version too because it was fun.

61 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 19:11:50 GMT

"Happy Birthday Sarahi..."

Today is 11 September 2021, therefore mine, and Sarahi's birthday! I'm always just overly excited on my birthday for no reason whatsoever. I guess while I'm not exactly ready to grow up, I do find it amazing, personally, that I am, in fact, getting older. As of today, I am now 19 years old, but my brain mostly goes towards the fact that I will be 20 next year. It feels weird to me, but it's also rather thrilling.

I always make a birthday drawing for myself in advance, but I was late this year and only finished this soft Saranby piece at 5 PM. I have to say, I think this is the softest Sarnaby drawing I have made to date. I wanted to make this last year, as this is something that happens in Year 6, when Sarahi turns 17, but I forgot then, so I made it this year instead.

In Year 6, Sarahi doesn't spend her birthday with her friends. After putting on the dress Andre had given her as an early present, she goes to Diagon Alley to wait for Jacob, who had promised a week ago that he would show up for her birthday. He did show up, and presented Sarahi with a music box he had finished recently. Sarahi spent as much time as possible with him, but Jacob had to leave quickly. Even then, she only returned to Hogwarts in the evening. By then, her friends had already gotten worried and had been looking for her for hours. Barnaby eventually finds Sarahi in the Astronomy tower as it was getting dark, playing the tune of the music box on repeat. Soon enough, he sits down next to her and asks her where she had been. Sarahi explained where she was all day and her concerns, seemingly uncomfortable. Barnaby is thoughtful as ever, decides not to pry further, and just spends the evening with Sarahi, giving her as much affection as he possibly could. The two spent a while in the Astronomy tower, before Sarahi agreed with him to go have dinner and see her friends. At dinner, everyone is happy to finally see her (especially Andre who is so proud of himself for making the dress), and give presents of their own to Sarahi. She also recieves some gifts from her muggle friends back home.

61 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 12:07:03 GMT

OKAY-

OKAY JAM CITY WHO DID THIS?

I'd like to meet you and shake your hand.

68 notes • Posted 2021-09-30 04:14:28 GMT

SPOILERS for Year 6 Chapter 18 and later

OKAY I JUST REALIZED THIS BUT HEAR ME OUT-

Tagging my fellow Rowan lovers/friends because I think you may like this?

@weasley-adoptee @wandsandrings @adellovesrowan @carewyncromwell @carmilla-the-bird

So we know that Jam City apparently “had to” kill Rowan off in Year 6 Chapter 18 because we know in canon she’s not the youngest Professor at Hogwarts.

BULLSHIT!!!!!

That “canon” problem could have EASILY been avoided by making it so Rowan DID become the youngest Professor, but AT ANOTHER SCHOOL!

Imagine this: Rowan is gravely injured by a considerably less lethal curse (than Avada Kedavra at least). Her parents now are terrified of literal attempted murder, and decide to switch her school for her last 2 years of education.

Rowan could be left with scars like the ones @immagrosscandy once made? And once she has recovered in the Hospital Wing, we visit her, and she gives MC the news.

NO ONE IS HAPPY ABOUT THIS. ROWAN DON’T WANNA LEAVE. MC DON’T WANT HER TO LEAVE. BUT MC KNOWS THEY’LL BE SAFE SOMEWHERE ELSE. THERE IS CRYING. THERE IS GONNA BE A TEARFUL GOODBYE. THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE THAT WE WILL ALWAYS BE BEST FRIENDS! THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE OF WRITING TO EACH OTHER AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE!

And you know where Rowan goes? The Brazilian Wizarding School, Castleobruxo! Maybe let’s assume she has some family there. And that’s when Alanza comes in! (Alternatively, Ilvermorny is also an option, but I’m just saying.)

And because we had to let go of Rowan because of Rakepick’s antics, the Circle of Khanna could still be made in her honor. And once we’ve thoroughly kicked Rakepick’s ass, write to Rowan about it, and she replies “I’d normally pummel her with my extensive vocabulary of profanities, but I’m not going to write them down. I hope you gave her a couple punches from me.”

BONUS: The Head Kid TLSQ

MC writes to Rowan that Dumbledore offered us the position. Rowan writes back saying she’s proud of us, and also writes some stuff in Portugese (with translations), while excitedly telling us that she’s picking up the language and getting better, and how amazing Castleobruxo is. MC misses her extremely so we can’t share her enthusiasm very much even when we try. The whole “Dream Rowan” conversation could happen, instead, when Rowan sends MC a letter encouraging them to take it up.

In the end, MC sends her another letter saying we got the position and the badge, and we go the extra mile of even sending her the badge so she can see it. Rowan is already doing excited SQUEEEEEEEEEE at breakfast because she’s so proud of her bestie… and she sees that MC sent her two badges- one with MC’s name, and one with ‘Rowan Khanna’ on it. In the letter, MC has written, “Thank you for encouraging me, Rowan, but I will always feel like this position should have been yours. I may be the Head Girl now, but I choose to stand in your place. In the meantime, I requested Dumbledore get a badge for you too. You’re still my Head Girl, and that will never change. I hope you find it as shiny as I do.”

And Rowan fucking cries, like “That’s my best freind, right there!” Feeling a little bad that MC misses her so much, she sends MC her badge back with a letter and a surprise.

“Thanks for getting a badge for me, MC! I love it! Now you take yours and put it on, and remember that we now have matching badges! I miss you too, and I know you do as well, so I decided to send you a gift- the very thing that began our friendship in the first place. You’re my best friend, and I’m trusting you with this. Take care of it, yeah? Love you!”

Lo and behold, Rowan has sent MC the item from the beginning of the game- The scarf, hat, or sweater. AND WE. FUCKIN. TREASURE IT. LIKE WE DO ANYWAY.

As for the future, she tells us that she wants to continue studying at Castleobruxo and become a professor there. And MC and friends will be supportive!

Bottom line is, A LOT OF LETTERS.

TAKE THAT JAM CITY SHITHEADS! I FIXED YOUR PLOT LIKE I ALWAYS DO!

108 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 07:16:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this year in review thing was too funny to not share #and my longest tag was me ranting about college #lmao

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lunaverseimagine · 4 years

Text

Worth Dying For

Request: Can someone PLEASE make a Fred Weasley imagine where he died defending you at the last battle because he was the only one that knew you were pregnant with George’s baby? @writerinnight

Pairing: George x Reader, platonic!Fred x Reader

Warnings: Major character death, angst, I’ve never written angst like this before and I apologise in advance for any pain caused 👀

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: @flyingserpxnt @pcseidcnsvoid @cherrycolakxsses @justanotherblondeday @schlongbottom @wand3ringr0s3 @hemmoporro Join a taglist through the link in my bio <3

Fic:

You had so many mixed emotions when you looked at the test. Your hand flew to your mouth and tears filled your eyes. Butterflies went crazy in your stomach. You were going to bring a baby into the world. But not the sort of world you’d pictured when you imagined this moment. You allowed yourself a couple of minutes to absorb the information before taking some deep breaths and wiping the tears from your eyes. As you opened the bathroom door you collided with a firm chest.

“Blimey y/n/n, sorry, I-“ but Fred fell silent as his gaze drifted to the stick in your hand. Your eyes widened and you hid it behind your back, but it was too late. “Y/n... is that what I think it is?”

You debated lying, but there was no point, you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from him now. Checking the hallway to make sure you were alone, you forced yourself to say the words.

“I’m pregnant.” You looked down at the floor, digging your toes into the carpet, anxiously awaiting his response. Surely Fred would be disappointed that you were pregnant now, that you were bringing a baby into this. But Fred’s arms wrapped around you and he lifted you off the ground.

“Merlin’s beard y/n/n, that’s brilliant! Georgie’s gonna be so happy-“

“I’m not telling George.” Fred put you down and looked at you with furrowed brows, hands still holding onto your arms as though he didn’t want to let go completely. “Not yet. Tomorrow is just so... huge. I don’t want him distracted or… or worrying about me.”

Seeing the resolve in your eyes, Fred knew there was no changing your mind, so he enveloped you in another hug and mumbled in your ear, “I’ll look out for you, you have my word. But If it’s going to be a secret you might want to stop waving that stick around.” You slapped him lightly, but hid the test in your pocket nonetheless.

You and George stood side by side, the rest of your families not far away, a united team. It was the calm before the storm, and the castle was completely silent. You couldn’t believe that this used to be your school, your home. Soon to be a battleground, inevitably covered in bloodshed. A shiver ran down your spine before you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Now, more than ever before in your life, you needed to focus. You observed the grey skies, the cold bite to the air, as you listened, waiting for any sign of movement.

Something brushed against your fingers and you jumped, your hold on your wand tightening, before realising it was George. “Sorry love.” he whispered as he clasped your hand in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. You squeezed back, leaning in to him so that the side of your body was flush with his. George, your George, your boyfriend of 6 years and the soon-to-be father of your baby. You sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening, asking that you, George, and bump would survive.

“I love you Georgie.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence he heard you perfectly.

“I love you too y/n.” You could see the fear in his eyes, watched as he bounced his leg and looked nervously around. You pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips lingering on the stubbly skin.

Suddenly the shields surrounding the castle began to break, and the scene turned to utter chaos. You and George stood back to back, casting spells at death eaters, constantly scanning your surroundings in case anyone needed backup. Fred had joined you so you were now standing in a triangle, fighting enemies on all sides.

The battle was a blur, flashes of red and green all around, shouts and screams filling your ears. Pushing down thoughts of the baby, thoughts of George, and of everyone else you wanted to protect, you focused instead on what you could see, on what you could do. That is, until the moment time seemed to slow down. The moment when three death eaters apparated in front of you. You knew there was no way you’d win against all of them, but dammit you would not go down without a fight. As you lifted your wand to disarm the death eater closest to you, all three of them raised their wands, pointing them directly at you. You heard the words forming on their lips, seeming to take an eternity, words that haunted your worst nightmare. Words you had hoped never to hear in your lifetime.

“Avada-”

You watched a mess of ginger hair in front of you.

“NO!” Your mouth formed the word, feeling disconnected from the rest of you.

You watched his arms spread wide to shield you

“Expelliarmus!” You cast, disarming one of the three evil people threatening the life of those you held dearest.

You watched as he disarmed another one, doing his best to protect you just like he promised.

“Kedavra.”

You watched as he crumpled to the floor in front of you, revealing the last death eater stood before him, the one responsible for taking his life.

You cast the curse back at him, not that you needed to because your scream had attracted attention, and curses were firing at him from all sides.

You fell to your knees next to Fred, letting out a scream that came from the depths of your lungs, your soul. You felt George beside you, turning to see him stare blankly at the lifeless face of his twin, of his other half. George was looking but not seeing, not registering, until suddenly he did, and he grabbed Fred’s hand.

“No no no no, Freddie, wake up, wake up, it’s me, it’s George.” His voice was breaking, and you cradled his head, brought it to rest in your chest as you held him, tears streaming down your face. “It’s George, you know, like Forge? Gred? I can’t be Forge or Gred on my own, I can’t do it, you have to wake up, you have to.” You clutched George tightly but his hands still held Fred’s cold one, refusing to let it go, refusing to believe that he could be gone. “You have to. You have to.”

The battle raged on around you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, George had to know. He had to know why this happened.

“I-” the words caught in your throat, it was so painful, your heart was aching, but George needed to know. “I know why he did it.” George lifted his head, glazed, bloodshot eyes meeting yours.

“What?”

“He- he jumped in front of me because otherwise- otherwise it would’ve been me-” at this thought your chest constricted and you had to fight to breathe, “and he didn’t want that because I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant Georgie, and he knew.” The last bit came out as a mere whisper, but George was hanging on to every word, trying to make sense of it all.

“You’re- you’re pregnant?” You merely nodded. George finally found the courage to let go of his twin’s hand, holding on to you for support because there was no way he could do this on his own, he needed you, his lifeline. He buried his face in your chest in an attempt to ground himself, and you clutched onto him, not daring to let go. The two of you rocked back and forth, unable to process the severity of the situation.

His family, his parents started to realise what had happened and were coming towards you, but you couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces, so you pressed your face on top of George’s head, kissing him because he’s still alive and Fred isn’t and it’s not fair and your baby’s dad is alive and his uncle isn’t.

You stayed there for hours, long after the battle ended. You’d won, but at what cost? You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to breathe without feeling the pain in your chest, the weight filling you, reminding you of what Fred had done. What he’d done for you. You couldn’t even imagine the pain George was in, losing half of himself. You didn’t know what the future would look like or how things could ever be ok again. So you did what you could. You held on to George.

End

Edit: There is now a part 2 and I promise it’s happier than this 👀

So... sorry 🥺 If you did enjoy this (or if your heart was broken) please let me know - reblogs and comments do a lot to motivate my writing, and my posts aren’t showing up in tags atm so reblogs are the only way to spread them 💖💖

Also feel free to check out my other stuff (mostly fluff I promise) and my writing challenge. Thank you for reading 💕

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cherriesradio · 3 years

Text

I would have given you the world, did that mean nothing to you?

Oikawa x Reader — Angst

Warnings: angst, cheating, very poorly edited lol, tumblr glitches >:[

Word Count: 1,477? Idk words a lair

“I just have practice. I’ll only be another minute.”

That was the first excuse. Which; you only realized by the end of the story. He repeated that statement every time you texted him, which was five times by now. You couldn’t question him, he always worked longer at practice. That’s something you loved about him, just how determined he is to get it right. To do his best. Apparently, that’s not how he looked at you.

“Just… get home soon. You know how worried I get. I care about you, and I want you to care about my feelings, too.” You said. It felt as if those words described everything you’ve been feeling the last few days.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be home as soon as I can. And of course I care about your feelings, why would I not?” Oikawa chuckled softly. You didn’t feel as comforted as you were meant to be.

And you had been to Iwaizumi’s house before. Sure it’s closer to the school then Oikawa’s, but it’s far compared to how close your house is. Could he not just stay at yours?

And it’s been only a few day since the first excuse.

And this time was much worse. You had only seen him at school the last few days, and you craved his touch. It felt like he must be a million miles away, and that he could emerge reach you.

You wanted him. Hell, at this point you could settle for just a call. Or a text. That’s all he’s given you in the last few days, anyway.

“I’m here!!”

Those words quickly rung through your ear, immediately sprinting to your front door. Oikawa, your darling Oikawa, was finally coming to visit you after a week.

“Toru!!” You cheered, throwing yourself into his arms. Sure they were open to you like normal, but it hasn’t been normal lately. But that’s fine. He’s tired, he can’t help it.

“Hey Cutie! How are you?” He said with that classic smirk, not quiet yours though. Your smirk was warm and made you feel fluffy, and cared for. This… this wasn’t your smirk.

But that’s besides the point. He’s still your Oikawa, isn’t he? He’s yours. Well, romantically anyway. Your not possessive.

The rest of the day was filled with not-quite-warm-enough cuddles, not-quite-sweet-enough kisses, and perfect little romcom worlds that the both of you adored.

By the end of the day, you had your head in his lap and were asleep.

You were disappointed when you woke to a dark room and feet shuffling out the door at 2 am.

TEN MISSED CALLS

Those three words ran through your head like they were in a marathon, and they were sure determined to win.

It’s been two weeks. If you did the math, that’s precisely 1.4 calls per day. Why didn’t he answer? Yes it’s the first week of summer, sure he was busy that last week of school. But isn’t graduation meant to be… romantic? No, not romantic per say, but it’s where the couples hop in the others arms and spin them around and kiss their lips likes it’s their last chance.

Maybe you should text him. Yeah, why didn’t you do that in the first place?

“Hey babe. What’s goin on? We haven’t talked in a while :(“

No, no. That makes you look desperate. Maybe that’s what you want though? No, you shouldn’t guilt trip him into hanging out with you.

“Hey babes!! Wanna hang out at the Park later? I’ll bring food ;]”

Too arrogant.

“Hey baby, wanna hang out later? I miss ya lol”

Perfect. Not to desperate, not to arrogant. Perfection. And sent.

Delivered.

Read.

“Ehhh I’m so sorry cutie, I promised the team I’d help them practice at the park today :(“

Course. He was working with them team.

It made sense, really. At least it should’ve. But it didn’t, not to you.

You sigh, you breath heavy and hot on your hand holding your phone. You brought it slightly closer to your face, proceeding to look at cute couples photos and yearning for the rest of the day.

“I’m forever yours.”

You heard those words on the regular. Heard. Why does he no long tell you he wants you to tell him every single thought that ever comes to your head? Why doesn’t he ask what’s on your mind and gets invested even if it’s the weather? Why doesn’t he profess his love to you in front of his team, showing off just how much he adores you?

Is he not happy with you?

“Their my other half.”

You never liked it when he called you that. He was his own person, and so were you. Did he want to be able to tell someone that? Did he want someone who would need him to survive?

“Your a cutie.”

You turned your head over to where you heard the familiar words. So warm, and inviting… so Oikawa. No, no, it’s probably just another cute couple. A couple with a brown haired and eyed man, who had the slyest smirk in the world.

“Y/n? Y/n, what are you staring at?” Yachi, your best friend (whom for some reason you didn’t tell any of this to) said, tapping your shoulder.

“Yachi. Can-can you see that?” You said, pointing towards your boyfriend. Your beloved Oikawa, sitting in a booth with a girl who you didn’t know existed till now, sipping from a milkshake that has two straws.

Silence. Yachi, your beloved and trusted, chatterbox of a girl, was silent.

“Y/n… are you alright?” She said. She put both her hands on your shoulders, pulled herself close to you. You didn’t even realize you were tearing up.

You always thought that people are like… cups. Through out any amount of time you can fill them, little by little. The more full they get… they more complicated feelings packed on top on each other… the cup slowely but surely fills up, all the way up to the top. When it’s filled over the top… the water spills out.

Tears spilled out of your eyes, shimmering and shinning in the fluorescent light of the shopping center.

“Yachi what do I do?” You whimpered. She already had her hand on the back of your head twisted with your hair, lightly pushing your head into her shoulder.

“Let’s go, just give me a second first.”

“Cutie, what are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” You said, your fists clenching, tears piling up in your “rim.”

“No, Cutie I have no clue.” He said. He stepped closer to you, gently setting his hand on your cheek. His hands are so warm and tough with calluses. So familiar.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to not let yourself whimper. “You were with a girl.”

Oikawa chuckled gently, as if all this was some joke you would pull for tik tok. “Possessive now, aren’t we Cutie?”

“No! Stop playing pretty boy for once in your life and take me seriously!” You almost yelled, pushing him away from you. He caught himself on your parents couch, you quietly thanked the lord that they weren’t home till very late.

“Cutie please just-“

“No!! Call me by my name, quit it with calling me your cutie! Hell, I’m detonating if I’m even yours anymore!”

That’s when your sure he finally realized. Realized you knew.

“Do you have any proof? Or are you just being paranoid?” He said, a fake sympathetic look on his face.

“Well.”

You picked up and logged into your phone, went into your messages with Yachi, and showed him Oikawa the photo she took one day ago now.

Oikawa, with his beautiful brown eyes and wavy hair, his pretty boy persona. With a girl, with long brown to blond ombré hair in a messy bun, with red cheeks. Red cheeks with a warm, calluses-covered hands gently placed on them, soft lips resting on hers.

You remembered just barely hearing the words said after that picture was taken, through Yachi’s barely-long-enough-to-reach-your-ear-hair.

“I burn you?”

“You melt me.”

RDISHSUAUAG JESUS CHRIST THAT WAS A LOT BESTIES

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#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa x reader #hakiyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #x reader #oikawa x y/n

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {1}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Cursing,

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗 Also, what do you guys think of the title? What does it make you think of?

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

***French Language Incorporated w/translations according to Google***

“Yes, mom, I packed my charger and my vitamins. Oh my god, of course, I have my scarf. Mom!”

Your mother continued to press you about things any woman would never forget packing. This was how she was normally. Almost morning, she would make her routine calls. First to your sister Atali, then to you. When she made it to you, she’d ask if you ate, and of course, by the time she called you, you were usually at work or on your way to it, and you wouldn’t have eaten. Then she’d ask you why you hadn’t eaten, to which she’d go back and forth with you about the importance of eating a well-balanced meal. Somehow that would lead to her asking how you expected to find the one when you didn’t eat enough. It was a never-ending thing with her. She was obsessed with you and your sister finding the one.

You understood. Your parents had been married for well over two decades, and they were still disgustingly in love. There was also no one like your dad, so you understood. They both saw what a catch they both were. After she told you the story of how she finessed your dad and got married in record time, it always turned into focus on you finding someone to marry. No matter how many times you told her that even though marriage was great and all, you weren’t in any hurry, it never registered.

“Mom, I have everything I need. It is just supposed to be a two-week cruise.”

“You’d be surprised the things you realize you left once you’re at sea. Then it will be too late,” Cynthia, your mother warned.

“Then I’ll just buy it. Mom, I’m not going to the middle of nowhere. I am going on a huge ship from one of the world’s most reputable companies. I am positive they have every possible thing I could want to buy onboard. Plus, when we dock at ports, I’ll be able to buy much more.”

“You’re always buying. Gah, I blame your father. He spoiled you and your sister rotten.”

“I am not spoiled. It’s not like I haven’t worked for my money. Yes, daddy helped me set up my company, but I got where I am today because of me,” you professed.

“I know, sweetheart, you don’t have to preach to the choir. All I’m saying is your daddy’s wealth only helped spoil you and Lali more. I saw it in you at the playground the most. You always wanted what the other kids were playing with. If it was a ball, you tried to take it. If it were the swings, you’d overtake it, toys in the sandbox my goodness those kids would end up with sand in their eyes and you alone with the toys.”

“Some would call that persistence, hardworking, and assertive.”

Your mother laughed then tsked.

“I’m surprised that when you were in high school, I never got a call about you getting into a fight because you stole some girl’s boyfriend.”

You pursed your lips, but as you were going to open your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated, signaling a notification.

“Hang on, mom.”

You thanked the Lyft driver for helping with your bags then checked your phone.

MSG Javii: I’ve been calling you all night. Come on, Chaton (kitten). You have to talk to me at some point. Tu me manques (I miss you).

You sighed and rolled your eyes. He had some nerve, you thought.

“Ajali, hello!”

“Yes, mom, I’m here. Sorry. I was getting my bags together.”

“So, you’re really doing this?”

“Yes, mom. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Who goes on a cruise alone? What about the man I heard in the background of our call a few weeks ago? Why not go with him?”

You rolled your eyes again, thinking about that man in the background a few weeks ago who was on your shit list.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was the tv,” you lied.

“Ajali--,” your mother began before you cut her off.

“—Plus, mom, it’s a Disney cruise,” you stressed.

“Exactly. The people who go on Disney cruises are families, wives, husbands, kids. You are neither of them and have nether of them.”

You balanced your phone on your shoulder and rolled your luggage toward the designated pier.

“I just need some time to myself to clear my head and destress. Two weeks.”

“Ignore your mother, my petal. You take the time you need. I’ve told you, and your sister working is important, but living is just as important. You don’t live to work; you work to live,” your father said.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Plus, maybe you will find a worthy man on this cruise while you’re living,” your father slid in.

“Oh god, not you too, daddy.”

“We are unified in this, Lulu. He may wear the pants, but I control the buttons and the zipper if you know what I mean.”

You tasted vomit in your mouth.

“Eck! That is disgusting, mother. On that note, I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait, enjoy yourself, my petal. We love you.”

“Love you too, daddy, love you, mom.”

With that, you ended the call and continued to walk toward Pier eighty-one. You passed families with rowdy children who looked like they couldn’t wait to get ice cream wasted, couples who looked as if they couldn’t wait to get to their suites and even elderly couples who were dressed to the nines for vacation, including already applied sunscreen and sunhats. Despite what your mother thought, Disney cruises were for everyone.

You’d purposely chosen Disney because you didn’t want to be around other couples who were loved up and nauseatingly adorable, spewing love in the air. You wanted to be as far from that as possible. Love was the last thing on your mind. You were going on this cruise to get away from it. Your phone vibrated and went off twice.

MSG Atali: Have you made your getaway yet?

You stopped rolling and went to reply.

MSG: Almost. I’m walking to the boarding line now.

MSG Atali: I think you’re doing the right thing. Space and time. In two weeks you’ll know what you want to do. I hope it’s what we talked about.

MSG: I know, Lali, I know.

MSG Atali: Have some fun too. It’s Disney.

You could picture her face as you read it. She was probably cheesing at this very minute.

MSG: Thank you for looking after the company while I’m gone.

MSG Atali: Boo, you know it’s my company too, right. Don’t worry; our clients will be taken care of. I’ve got it covered.

You knew she did. Atali was the older one and had always acted like it, even though she was only nine months older. You knew she could take care of things on her own while you were away.

MSG: I know, still. Thank you.

MSG Atali: You’re welcome, Lulu. Call me later. Margaret Bailey’s appointment is next. Apparently, she’s throwing some party, and she wants to be the envy of everyone.

MSG: Eck, you have your work cut out for you. Bye.

As you were putting your phone away, another message came in.

MSG Javii: Chaton (kitten), call me, please. Don’t you think you’re dragging this out a little?

You almost said, “are you stupid” out loud. The man had some nerve. Dragging it out? You rolled your eyes as another message came in.

MSG Javii: Je t’aime (I love you).

Just like that, you melted. He was playing on the fact that your father was French, and the language itself was a favorite of yours. He was not a stupid man; he was a smart businessman.

MSG Javii: I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about it, but you have to give me more time. Please.

Unbelievable, you thought as you exited your messages and stuck your phone into your back pocket. You turned and ran smack dab into someone’s hard body.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out even as you were falling back.

A pair of strong arms grabbed you and firmly held you, preventing your fall.

“It’s okay, you’re lucky I don’t mind beautiful women bumping into me,” a deep masculine voice said. You knew it was a man, but you couldn’t see his face even though he looked to be well over six feet. His head was dipped low, and the hat he wore over hair that fell to his neck was so low you couldn’t see anything but the full beard that showed off a chiseled jawline.

He set you right side up and slowly brought his hands from your arms back to his side. “Stay safe out there,” he said before he walked off.

You stood there for a few moments, then looked back to where he’d walked and watched him saunter away. He had a slight dip to the way he walked that could either be seen as a happy go lucky type of thing or something that said he had some sort of swagger. Before you stared any longer, you sprang into motion with wheeling your luggage to the growing line to board the ship. Thankfully the line went quickly thanks to the ten different lanes that had ship staffers ready and eager to help guests.

When it was your turn, a friendly-looking woman with a trendy bob cut explained what to do. While she talked, her smile never fell, but you didn’t really pay attention because her uniform was so distracting. She had on a purple and green hat that had mermaid scales and Ariel printed all over it. This hat matched the shirt and skirt combo she wore. Her shirt was two-toned, on one side was Ariel’s face, and on the other was mermaid scales while her skirt was plain white. It looked like The Little Mermaid threw up all over her. You didn’t expect anything else; it was a Disney cruise after all.

After doing all the check-in steps, such as handing off your rolling luggage to the ship porters and taking a photo for your provided identification wrist band that the crew will use to identify you and your indicated needs, you boarded the ship. All the friendly faces you passed all looked happy to welcome you to Disney Cruises and to direct you to where you wanted to go. The noise inside was much louder inside than it was out. The kids that looked excited outside looked downright jubilant inside as they posed for pictures with life-sized Disney characters and got welcome ice cream treats.

You were even tempted to take a picture or two, but you decided against it. What you did not decide against was ice cream. You took an offered vanilla cone and kept on your way, looking around the ship as the other guests did. From your research, this was the best-rated cruise this year. It was a newer Disney ship and one that cost over ten million dollars to design and build. Everyone said it was the Rolls Royce of Disney cruises.

From what you saw with the décor looked to have cost a fortune. There was glass, fancy lights, and marble everywhere. It was clear they didn’t skimp on funding and clear that they had the comfort and luxury in mind. There were plants around the central atrium that gave off that tropical vacation vibe and even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls that further pushed the agenda that this was supposed to be a fun time for all.

The more you walked around looking at different areas, the more you were impressed. If the gathering areas looked this upscale, you were even more excited to see your suite.

“Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

You shook your head and smiled at the man wearing Hans all over him. “I’m all right, thank you.”

The next thirty minutes or so were spent walking around while following the map in your hand. You found and noted where the spa, library, on-ship garden, movie theater, bowling alley, tropical setting wave pool, and best restaurants and bars were. You had every intention of soaking up all the luxury that you’d paid top dollar for. When you saw a few amenities that you hadn’t expected, your jaw dropped. You had no idea why there was an ice skating rink or an indoor sky flying dome that had the tallest clear tube you’d ever seen. You didn’t know who’d designed this cruise, but you knew it must have cost millions. You were sure you wouldn’t be getting in that sky flying dome.

When you finally got the alert that your suite was ready, it was well after one in the afternoon. The walk among the crowds was noisy. Everyone was either talking about what they wanted to do first, how enormous and beautiful the ship was, or making a plan for the cruise duration. In between all the chatter, there of course, were the screams and cries of babies and toddlers who were already losing their shit.

This is what you’d expected when you decided on this Disney cruise over another like Carnival or Norwegian. You knew that the other passengers would be of a specific age range leaning on the younger and family-oriented side, which meant you wouldn’t have to fight off unwanted suitors who tried to shoot their shot. It also meant that you wouldn’t have to deal with any sort of drama that usually happened on a cruise with young adults all looking to hook up. That was not what you needed right now. You wanted to stay as far away from hooking up or eligible men that had blue eyes or a perfect head of hair, or abs that were chiseled by Michelangelo himself, or an ass that would make a mannequin jealous.

On the elevator ride to your floor, you caught the eye of an adorable little boy with a complete head of luscious dark locks and doe eyes with an unmeasurable depth. His smile was innocent. Every time your eyes met his, he hid behind his mother. When you looked away, he looked back at you. After two or three playful back and forth glances, which had him becoming more adorable, you surprised him by not looking away. When he realized it, his squeal was so childlike and filled with so much glee that everyone on the elevator had to giggle. Over the next several minutes, the passengers on the elevator got off group by group until it was just a few people remaining.

“Sixth floor,” the elevator attendant announced.

You made your way through the door but gave the adorable boy a look. “Have a fun cruise, cutie,” you said with a wink before the doors closed with the sound of his giggles. You looked at your phone to remind yourself which room was yours, then glanced at the numbers on the wall that directed you where to go. The dinging sound of an elevator brought your attention down the hall to your right to see one man walk off. His hat was dipped down low, but you noticed his face was buried in his phone before he turned and walked in the opposite direction of you.

Focusing on the signs on the door, you walked down the left side of the aisle. It didn’t take you long to realize your room was at the end of the hall. Once you reached it, you glanced back to see the same man with his tipped low hat. It looked like the same man from before outside the ship. It couldn’t be, you thought. The odds were not that small. As you opened your door, you saw him disappear into the room at the opposite end of the hall.

Once you walked inside, you immediately thought that this was what you got when you had Atali handle the arrangements. The theme of the room was clearly sky blue. The couch in the living area was a satin, silky sky blue that looked as if it was plush and comfortable. It matched the blue and grain colored carpet before it perfectly, and the abstract blown glass art on the wall. The colors all worked together to give you a sense of peace. It wouldn't have been something you’d chosen because, unlike Atali, you liked to keep things as low maintenance as possible. Just because your family had money doesn’t mean you had to look or behave as if you did.

When you walked into the bedroom portion of the stateroom, you saw your suitcases waiting for you in the far left corner of the room. The sunlight pouring in from the screened balcony bathed the room in a beautiful, cheerful yellow that was so inviting that once you kicked off your shoes, you had to step out into it. The temperature was not blazing hot because it was just the middle of April in New York, and that meant a mix of chilly and warm days with the occasional possible snow shower. The salty air of the sea was one of your favorite smells. You remembered when your father took your family to France on your yearly family vacation. As a child, you loved the beach and the salt of the sea. When you became an adult, nothing had changed.

Not realizing how long you remained on the balcony, an intercom announcement came on.

“Attention passengers, this is Lucas Albright, one of your captains. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you aboard this Disney Enchantment Cruise.”

He paused, and you could hear the uproar of cheers and claps from over the intercom as well as in the halls and neighboring staterooms.

“We are all excited to host you on this two and a half week christening journey from New York. I say christening because you lot are the first to travel on this brand new ship. This is her maiden voyage.”

More cheers and applause came for what felt like forever.

“We will be on this beautiful vessel for two days, at which time we dock in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic at approximately eleven o’clock in the morning, where you can enjoy plenty of the excursions and activities for the day.”

Again applause followed. Everyone was undoubtedly excited about this cruise. You tried to get out of your funk and onboard the excitement train.

“We will then set sail again, leaving port at ten o’clock that evening and moving on to two days at sea until we reach our second destination of Port of Grand Turk in beautiful Turks & Caicos. At that time, we dock at eleven 0’clock and lift anchors at ten o’clock. From the beautiful Turks & Caicos, we will be at sea for two days until we reach the tropical breezes of the British Virgin Islands!”

You were already making some mental plans for everything you wanted to do at each port.

“After spending out eleven o’clock to ten o’clock time there. We set sail to the glorious white sandy beaches of—Arrrruuuba!”

At that time, the classic Beach Boys song Kokomo came on at the Aruba part. It was so corny, but everyone seemed to love it. You shook your head as the short clip of the song played loudly until it was lowered to play in the background.

“Again, we’re docking at eleven o’clock to set sail again at ten o’clock. We are then at sea for three more days until we get to Ocho Rios, Jamaaaaica!”

As he spoke, you went around the room, placing things you’d need and freshening yourself up. When he finally finished giving the itinerary, you were situated and checking the schedule of events for the day. All in all, it was set to be an action packed seventeen days at sea. Atali must have chosen this length because she knew seven or ten days would not be enough time.

“All right, ladies, gentlemen, kids, and big kids, I hope to see you all at the welcome mingle we’ve scheduled to begin within the next twenty minutes or so, at which time we will lift anchors and say sayonara to New York and aloha to the seven seas.”

He had a voice for radio or a game show. It was velvety deep, just what many women seemed to like these days. You grabbed your phone and crossbody bag and walked out of your room. You had a mission before you lifted anchor. Everyone was still abuzz with talk of the itinerary as more of the beach boys played over the ship speaker system. Vacation vibes were in full effect. Once you got to the media area, you promptly purchased your airtime so your cell would be able to work while at sea. You knew your mother would have a heart attack if you went two days without checking in with her. You didn’t think it was because she was that attached to her children though, you knew it was her motherly duty to remain up in the tea, so she felt continuously connected. As she got older and older, you realized it more and more.

As soon as that mission was completed, you made your way to the top deck where the mingle was being held. As you stepped out into the sun, you marveled at just how extravagant Disney had chosen to go with this ship. Several feet before you stretching obscenely high into the air, you saw something that looked like a rollercoaster. There were plenty of other passengers pointing to it and excitedly chattering about it. You made a mental note to stay as far away from it as possible. Who would think to ride an insanely high rollercoaster on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean?

Slowly you walked around the deck, cordially smiling at those you passed. You passed a bar area and took one of the prepared cocktails, and proceeded to find a good spot at the side of the ship to watch them lift anchor. After several minutes of searching and bumping into all the excited kids and passengers who were posing for pictures with friends, family, and Disney staff, you found an excellent spot to press your back against.

Across the way, a familiar hat caught your eye. It was him, you thought. He always kept his head low and tried to steer away from big crowds. It was strange to you considering he’d chosen to get on a cruise ship filled with hundreds of people. He wouldn’t be able to escape the crowds. Your eyes followed him as he walked to another bar to grab one of the drinks there. As he did, he joked with the bartender, and it was then you saw a flash of his pearly smile. You couldn’t tell if he was attractive or not, mostly since all you’d gotten were glimpses of pieces of his face. Part of you wanted him to take off the stupid hat so you could be sure, but the other part—the sensible part that remembered why you’d chosen a Disney cruise slapped your ass back into focus.

“Welcome, Disney guests!”

In response, everyone around you screamed, clapped, cheered, and stomped so loudly the sound could have rivaled that of a rave.

“We are pleased to welcome you once again!”

As one of the staff members continued to speak about the ship procedures, expectations, highlights, amenities, and more, you continued to look around the deck, taking in all the grandeur before you. It didn’t take long to get lost in the directory you held. Again you took note of where everything was that you wanted to experience and even went as far as to make a plan of what you wanted to eat each night. Between you and Atali, you were the planner. You liked things to make sense and liked them to be stable and constantly reliable. You hated the erraticness of people and impulsivity. You always tried to steer as far from it as possible.

By the time the speeches were finished, you’d had three drinks and were working on your fourth. The vibration of your phone brought your attention to it.

MSG Javii: Chaton?

You rolled your eyes and sighed out a little louder than you intended. What attracted you to him in the first place was what was annoying you right now. His persistence. You sat in a nearby seat and stared at the text exchange and thought of what you wanted to reply. Five minutes passed with you not typing one word. The truth was you didn’t know what to say. You were that jumbled up. The stress of it all was making your head hurt. You rubbed your brow and began your message.

MSG: I need some time away.

Instantly a message came back.

MSG Javii: From me?

Bobbing your head from side to side, you tried to make a quick decision.

MSG: From this—us.

MSG Javii: Chaton, say what you mean. You know I prefer directness. Do you mean from me?

MSG: Yes.

A few minutes passed before he sent another message. You wondered if you’d hurt him. Part of you didn’t want to hurt him, but the other part wanted him to suffer and see what it was like to be without you. Maybe then he’d start appreciating what he had.

MSG: I just need to figure some things out.

MSG Javii: Are you breaking up with me, Chaton?

The name was killing you, and you were sure he knew it. Every time he called you “chaton,” it made your belly flutter.

MSG: I just need time and space, Javii.

MSG Javii: I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything.

MSG: If that were true, I’d be there right now instead of where I am. I have to go.

You closed your messages and sighed out again.

“Mm, I can easily read that expression, and if any man causes brow or forehead wrinkles, he isn’t the one.”

Your head snapped to your right to see an older woman sitting there. She wore a straw hat atop her long red hair that looked close to that of Lucille Ball’s. The hue of her hair complimented her bronze and gold complexion. Her makeup was expertly done, as was her purple painted nails that pinched the straw that was at the corner of her mouth, a mouth that was painted perfectly accentuating her cupid’s bow lips. She was gorgeous.

“Uh--,” you began as she continued.

“The only one who is worth it is the one who gives you cheek wrinkles and smile creases.”

You grinned to yourself and took a sip from your glass that was resting on the table between you.

“Trust me. I’ve dated plenty of men, ones who cause both, ones who cause one more than the other and ones who only cause one—the bad ones.” She motioned to the space between her eyebrows, symbolizing stress wrinkles from furrowing your brows.

“I have yet to meet one who only causes smile creases,” she finished.

You shrugged and looked glanced back to your phone before you put it on the table face down.

“Maybe that one doesn’t exist on this Earth,” you countered.

“A skeptic, I see. You’re one of those women who don’t believe in the one, right?”

After scoffing, you looked at her. “I don’t know what I believe. Once upon a time, I did then---things got complicated.”

The woman placed her drink down and nudged her fist underneath her chin, giving you her complete attention.

“Oh, complications are the joys of life, darling. Nothing is ever cut and dry or so simple and steady. I say go for the ride but make sure you hand on for the bumps.”

You contemplated her words. There was some logic there, but once she said nothing was simple or steady, you had to admit your heart skipped a beat. You hated when things weren’t simple. You took your glass again and finished its contents. At the same time, your eye found the man who’d caught you maybe an hour ago. You watched as he walked closer to where you were seated and caught another glimpse of his face before he passed you.

From beside you, you heard the woman whistle.

“I wouldn’t mind going for a ride with that one.”

Your laugh was loud and couldn’t be stopped. You shook your head at her, but she didn’t look one bit embarrassed or remorseful.

“It’s a cruse darling, a vacation. Now’s the time to live a little—or a lot,” she said, finishing with an exaggerated wink.

This woman was inadvertently suggesting you let your hoe flag fly for the duration of the cruise. She reminded you of your aunt Josephine from your father’s side. As a French woman, she definitely embodied the French lifestyle of only living once and to live life right the first time. You’d spent countless hours with her listening to her stories of her travels, boyfriends, escapades. You and Atali always loved to live vicariously through her. That was until Atali came of age and decided to live just like her.

You sat with this woman who introduced herself as Genevieve and listened to her stories of life and love. Usually, you hated speaking to strangers, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a kindred spirit, a much more carefree spirit but still kindred the same. You didn’t realize that two hours had almost passed with the two of you sipping cocktails and giggling. When you said your goodbyes, you wandered around the ship, taking in all it had to offer. You peeked in on activities that were already underway and scoped out other places you could disappear in.

You made it back to your room in time to shower, change, and put on a lite layer of makeup before you made it to dinner at one of the forty restaurants. Once you walked into the restaurant, the atmosphere screamed luxury though it was not opulently done. It still looked family-friendly, but it was done in a way that let you know that you were meant to feel important by the décor alone.

At the bottom of the long stairs, you quickly looked around, trying to find an empty table. When you’d zeroed in on one, you saw a hand waving you down—the hand of the same woman from before, Genevieve. Why not, you thought to yourself before you began to cross the dining area toward her. Within a few steps, you ran right into a body that felt like a brick wall. You could feel your body falling backward, but in the nick of time, a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your back, holding you in place.

If his face had been eluding you all day, it was not anymore. The eyes you stared into were blue enough that the sea you sailed would be envious. His lips were so red that an apple would want a rematch for bragging rights and his face so symmetrical that even the perfect line of symmetry didn’t seem perfect enough when next to him. The man was gorgeous. You watched his eyes roam your face as if he was in no rush, wanting to take in every detail. What felt like minutes was probably only seconds before he set you upright. As you were prepared to speak, he smiled, and the action had you feeling like you’d been hit in the head at the same time as your gut.

“Twice in one day. What’re the odds? Are you okay?”

Rather than speaking, you nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m—I’m sorry,” you stuttered.

“Nah, forget about it. No harm, no foul.”

From behind him, you could see Genevie giving you a look that said she wanted to know what was being said and who he was.

“I uh—I was going that way,” you said, nodding your head to behind him.

“And me that way.” He nodded behind you. “Stay safe out there,” he uttered before he walked off in the direction you’d just come from, giving you the opportunity to walk to Genevieve.

The look on her face needed no words to along with it, but she still spoke.

“Is that the same snack from before?”

You nodded and nearly snorted out, hearing her use the word.

“What’s his name?”

“No idea, but I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before. I just—can’t place it.”

“I don’t know how. I’d never forget a face like that.”

She had a point; he had an unforgettable face, one that stayed with you and possibly could haunt your nights. You bet he got whatever he wanted and whoever he wanted. As dinner progressed, you had your choice of different appetizers, entrees, drinks, and desserts. If one wanted Scandinavian food, they could get it, or southern food it was within reach. As you ate, you listened to more of Genevieve’s stories. She told you about the men she’d dated, the things she’d seen in her years, and lessons she’d learned from those men. The moral you learned from her stories was love often, love hard, and love entirely because while you’d remember the pain, you’d remember the love more.

As you ate and listened to her, you couldn’t help but think of the reason you were on this cruise in the first place. You were not running to love but from it. If you were to listen to Genevieve, you should have stayed your ass in New York and gone to Javii. If you listened to her, you’d probably spend another year living in sin. By the end of dinner, you’d met three other women all within the same age range as you, but they all were in different times of their lives. One was newlywed, and on her honeymoon, the second married a year and expecting her first child and the third long married with three children.

It was an interesting look at alternate timelines for you. Any of them could have ended up being you if you’d only made different choices. Part of you wondered which one you wanted to be more, your natural self, or one of the three possibilities.

After dinner, you made your way to one of the theaters to watch the planned show for the night. It was a re-enactment of The Little Mermaid, and the audience was filled with little ones who clapped and cheered throughout. You were surprised at how well the staff performed. They could have easily been true broadway stars. A little more than halfway through the show, you found the stranger with the deep eyes across the room. He was sitting alone, just watching the show with a relaxed look on his face. He looked as if he were genuinely enjoying it. Your curiosity was piqued as to why he was sitting alone watching The Little Mermaid on a ship full of people and why he didn’t seem to be bothered to make acquaintances. Who came on a cruise alone? Once you thought it, you wanted to laugh at yourself. You were the one to come on a cruise alone.

As you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. At first, they looked empty as if he were looking right through you. Then after a few moments, there was a spark in them. You watched him raise his glass to you with a soft smile teasing his lips. Realizing you’d been caught looking, you curtly nodded back then looked to the stage to focus on the show.

Two in the morning. That was the time when you finally made it back to your room. Festivities were going on all around the ship. No one seemed as if they wanted to go back to their rooms. There was something for everyone. The little ones had endless activities, including a sleepover with their favorite Disney characters, where they were set to have plenty of fun for the night. There was a mixer set up like a rave on the opposite side of the ship for the adults. From the things you saw when you scoped it out, you were sure a few siblings were going to be conceived tonight.

As you scanned your bracelet and opened your door, you looked back to see the stranger again. He was looking directly down at you. You gave him a head salute and disappeared inside your room. After a quick shower, you found your way to your balcony to watch the waves roll by with a glass of wine. It was the perfect end to the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#hibiscus kisses fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #chris evans x ofc #slow burn fanfic #angst fanfic

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kiruuuuu · 3 years

Text

Protection Mountain: The Finale⛰️

Yes. It is here.

Montagne/Bandit conquered my heart so quickly with what was meant to be a oneshot, then turned into a small series of oneshots, and ended up as my longest series in Siege. And now their main story is coming to an end. I would like to thank absolutely everyone who participated in this journey, be it through direct messages, magnificent art, shared ideas, comments, reblogs, likes, the simple act of reading and enjoying - you helped make this happen, you motivated and encouraged me. Thank you for falling into this bottomless hole with me 💖

A special thank you goes out to @ekhap, who commissioned this piece in the first place - without you, it’s likely I never would’ve written it. I’m so happy you enjoyed it, and I hope all of you who stuck around long enough to read this will too.

I have actually managed to post the entire series on AO3 as well, so you can comfortably read (or re-read) it here!! And without further ado, here is the final chapter of Protection Mountain. (Rating T/M, hurt/comfort + a ridiculous amount of fluff, ~8.5k words)

“I’m leaving tomorrow”, says Madeleine, voice soft and always a reprieve from the harsh reality of the hospital room around them. “I don’t think coming back will be necessary this time.”

Montagne squeezes her hand, making her smile.

She’s been juggling family and career for her entire life and right now is no different: on slower or off days, she hops on the train to visit, taking the opportunity to report on some local stories on the way, utilising her travel time to write up or edit her pieces. A busy bee, always worried about being overshadowed by her older brother. They haven’t seen each other this much for years and though the occasion could be merrier, Montagne is fiercely grateful for her presence. He’s unloaded some of his worries onto her and she onto him, and somehow they ended up lighter than before. Tourés tend to stick together, given the opportunity.

“Why do you say that?”

“You might not realise, but you’re looking much better, Gilles. You’ll be let loose on the world again soon.”

They exchange a quick grin over her choice of words. She’s certainly more of a menace to society than he is, and they both know it.

Next to her, Lion is sitting in a second chair, rigid. He’s confessed to Montagne in private that Madeleine reminds him of his mother – whatever that might entail – and so he’s unfailingly awkward around her, probably ruing the fact that they happened to drop by at the same time today. Dealing with strangers isn’t usually a problem for him; dealing with family of friends, however, is.

Apparently, Bandit won Madeleine over immediately, surprisingly enough. She says it’s his horrific German accent whenever he attempts to speak French and his deadpan humour, but Montagne is relatively sure she senses a bit of how much Bandit cares for him. Tourés are also protective of each other, siblings even more so. She wouldn’t have told him a thing about Montagne’s current condition if she hadn’t thought his worry genuine.

And then, out of the blue: “Cathérine called me.” She still sounds conversational, but her gaze becomes a tad more attentive.

Montagne stills.

Lion’s gaze is jumping back and forth between them, the man even more uncomfortable now.

It’s the last person he expected Madeleine to mention, so he needs a second to compose himself. “What about?” He tries to search for emotions, for any kind of reaction to encountering his wife’s – ex-wife’s name, but comes up empty. It’s like hearing about an old, lost friend of his: someone who once used to be important enough to be mentioned in his will, now someone who barely counts as a remnant in his thoughts.

“You, of course. Maman tattled and, eventually, it reached her. She wanted to know how you are and whether contacting you directly is a good idea.”

“And your reply?”

“I said I’d ask you.”

He nods, thankful. During their divorce, too many people presumed what would be best for either side instead of addressing them directly. It didn’t feel like their own private business anymore, somehow it affected everyone and so everyone was entitled to an opinion and a listening ear. He appreciates Madeleine allowing him this kind of control. “I don’t think she has my current number. Please give it to her and let her know I’d be happy to talk.”

And that’s that. They kiss cheeks and do a half-hug, exchange verbal pleasantries which are nonetheless heartfelt, and then she and her mild perfume are gone, leaving behind a slightly relieved-looking Lion.

“You do look a lot better, you know”, he confirms Madeleine’s earlier assessment, and though he seems intent on changing the topic – for him, family is still a sore topic most days –, Montagne’s mind lingers. Vague memories form a blurry whole, the image so distant it may well originate in a film he once saw or a book he once read.

Catou used to be his entire world and there were days he was convinced he couldn’t go on if she were to leave him. Yet time, the wound-healer, sometimes corrodes instead – and in their case, it must’ve mistaken their passion and devotion for sickness, for it cured them. They noticed before comfort turned into indifference, but only barely. By the time they decided on breaking up, another man was involved as well, though Montagne assigns him no blame whatsoever. Until their divorce was finalised, Catou kept her friend at arm’s length and he never even attempted to get any closer; but while she didn’t allow herself to fall in love again until Montagne openly gave his blessing, he could see the seeds growing already.

Neither of them cheated, he knows this for a fact. They’d never. He noticed how she became aware of the possibility of being with another man after a few of their long talks which denoted the beginning of the end, and while it hurt, he vowed not to stand in her way. If he couldn’t support her, he at least didn’t want to hinder her.

What hurt the most wasn’t any misguided feeling of betrayal or even jealousy, no. It was the realisation that he simply didn’t suffice. He gave her his everything and it turned out it wasn’t enough.

Maybe this is why he won’t accept Bandit’s proposal: the creeping fear of committing fully and finding it to have been in vain.

“You never spoke about her.” His friend has indubitably noticed his mood by now, or maybe the lack of response gave it away.

He supposes he hasn’t. Neither to Bandit nor to Lion, actually, not even when the topic had strayed to Claire and Alexis. “There isn’t much to say”, he summarises well over a decade of companionship, eroded and erased slowly by the very thing which tainted it in the first place: time apart. “We fell in and then out of love. She was a remarkable woman. She deserves someone who can keep up with her.”

Lion fidgets a little, avoids eye contact. Montagne’s words might’ve struck a chord but he’s too exhausted, too restless to talk it out. Madeleine’s statement has given him hope that he can leave soon, leave Bandit’s birthplace behind, hopefully to return and make happier memories in the future.

His friend’s next question catches him off guard. “Why did you marry her?”

It’s so much out of character for him to ask that Montagne needs a few seconds to come up with a reply. “I loved her, with all my heart. I expected to spend the rest of my life with her. Why do you -”

“Then why are you saying no to him?”

Montagne stares, shocked. The slight petulant undertone, the hint of defiance, the blunt accusation – Bandit himself could’ve posed the question, and it’s not for the first time Montagne realises how alike the two of them really are. But what leaves him utterly dumbstruck isn’t the implication of Lion approving of a marriage between them, no, it’s the fact that he can’t come up with a reasonable answer.

At least not one which doesn’t sound like an excuse.

He must’ve realised the impact his words have left behind, so Lion swiftly changes topics yet again, allowing for Montagne to recover and respond to a few simple inquiries, but nothing really manages to soften the blow.

~*~

There’s a reason he chose le Roc over more modern, flashier, possibly more efficient alternatives.

When he was younger, he used to hide his height by slouching, felt embarrassed by the fact that he’d stick out due to something he neither chose nor controlled – as a tall, muscular man, he’s perceived as intimidating or, worse, a challenge. He reacted to mentions of his physique with sheepish smiles and laughed it off when people referred to his ability to beat up whomever he liked, portraying it as enviable.

It took him a while until he began seeing his build as an advantage. It took friends confessing they felt safe with him around. Acquaintances appreciating his company during the dark. His soon-to-be wife admiring his drive to put his stature to good use. Ultimately, it influenced first impressions only, a quick glance upwards, but as soon as people heard him speak gently, noticed his aversion to unnecessary violence, be it verbal or otherwise, they forgot about his impressive physique immediately.

Like le Roc, it’s a shield. He utilises his own body to protect others and has subconsciously done so his entire life, be it to separate his little sister from her bullies, friends from aggressors, or even two agitated strangers: he absorbs the blows which to him are no more than light punches whereas they could cause more harm on their intended victims. He’s been likened to a mastiff and their instinctual drive to break up fights by simply standing in the way.

Like le Roc, it’s an asset. And like le Roc, it can get damaged.

What he hadn’t realised is just how much he relies on his body to function exactly the way he needs it to.

His life is his job, they’re irredeemably intertwined, and imagining one without the other is … nigh impossible. His mind struggles to come up with alternatives – helping others is in his essence, but picturing himself working in a nursing home maybe or a school, a community centre, is madness to him. Catou had been very involved in these kinds of projects, volunteered wherever there was a need, and while he saw the good she did, the joy she spread, she had a certain soft touch he simply lacks.

He’s a mountain. He can kill and besiege and protect and recover and rescue, but the thought of being responsible for children not his own, or the well-being of elderly people, terrifies him. A small mistake, a brief distraction could prove fatal. He’s trained for combat.

He needs to recover.

Sometimes, he wakes up and can’t feel his limbs. He hasn’t stood on his own two legs for who knows how long. Movement hurts, lying down hurts, existence hurts. But what hurts most is the prospect of never returning to the work he’s destined for.

No one is allowed to catch a glimpse of his frustration as he feels it’s ungrateful, possibly even malicious. Not only should he be elated over having survived at all, it would also imply he regrets having taken the actions he did, and nothing could be further from the truth. Saving Lion was inevitable; he just wishes he could’ve gotten away with less serious injuries. He wishes so fiercely. Bottling up his anger is destructive and being fully aware of how irrational his behaviour is merely continues the spiral of negativity, yet he’s powerless to change it. The people closest to him are still processing the shock of almost losing him and don’t need the added burden of his dread for his own future.

He wonders whether Bandit is repulsed by him. Aside from his atrophied muscles, he’s lost weight, there are the burns which will likely mark his body for the rest of his life, another ugly scar on one thigh where he’s been stitched up. His skin is discoloured in multiple places and he vividly remembers the way Madeleine winced when she visited him the first time. He already doesn’t consider himself overly attractive, so he must seem frightening. It doesn’t help that Bandit distanced himself the way he did at first – though it was likely the shock affecting him still.

Recently though, his lover has been doing much better. He’s been doing amazing, actually: when Bandit isn’t visiting him, he’s out and about, meeting with friends from the GSG9, eating at exotic restaurants, working out, keeping himself entertained. He keeps messaging Montagne, sending photos of dogs he meets or particularly tasty dishes they need to cook together (or rather attempt to), and every line of text lightens his heart. Bandit even keeps Six and Blitz up to date, informing Doc of Montagne’s condition unprompted, and converses with Madeleine as best he can. Of course, there are bad days sprinkled in now and then, days on which his gaze is endless and unfocused, days on which Bandit is either taciturn or won’t stop talking about unrelated things so Montagne can’t ask him how he’s doing. Recovery isn’t fast or linear, Montagne knows this.

He’s so goddamn proud nonetheless.

And even though seeing Bandit flourish, having watched him pick himself back up and carry on where he left off, witnessing the man he loves with all his heart succeed over this void in his chest once again causes Montagne’s chest to swell in pride and adoration, there’s a bitter note to it. An out-of-tune note, a scratchy, unpleasant one. Because Montagne believes he knows the reason for Bandit’s sudden motivation to improve his existence. And it’s not for its own sake, not for Bandit’s own benefit alone.

Montagne remembers stewing in his own thoughts, fighting the urge to call himself useless, agonising over what might become of him, and there’s no way Bandit didn’t catch him wiping his face when he burst into the room that one day a while back. He must’ve noticed how red Montagne’s eyes were, unusually red. He must’ve realised how fucking weak Montagne is. And probably decided it was his turn to take care of his love.

The next day, Bandit announced having joined a local gym for the time being, as well as his intention to watch a film by himself later. It can’t be a coincidence.

There’s nothing worse for Montagne than being a burden.

~*~

Bandit’s energy is enviable. It seems he’s attempted to prepare for every scenario imaginable: he’s washed all of Montagne’s clothes, bought a variety of snacks and pastries, piled magazines on the bedside table, purchased all kinds of toiletries and remedies including a remarkably well-stocked first aid kit, arranged lush-looking fruits on the small desk of their hotel room, and even produces ear plugs and a sleeping mask the moment Montagne mentions feeling vaguely tired.

It’s hard not to get swept up in the atmosphere his lover creates, especially when his own chest seems unusually light compared to the weeks prior – he’s elated to be discharged from the hospital, even if all kinds of other worries creep up on him during moments of quiet. Being able to return home is a wish he harboured without realising: he thought all he needed was distance from the very place that so consciously reminds him of his own frailty, but it turns out privacy and a new environment don’t suffice, not even close. Sharing a space with Bandit and Bandit only is an immense improvement, yet he longs to sleep in his own bed, feel like he belongs instead of being a perpetual guest. Still, he’s grateful for the spacious hotel room, some peace and quiet, and the assurance that no one is going to randomly check up on him anymore.

Except for Bandit, of course.

Maybe it was Madeleine’s comment which inspired him, or maybe he hadn’t realised how much he’d recuperated already, but once his sister had bidden farewell, his condition improved fast. It culminated two days ago, when Bandit entered his room to find him awkwardly holding on to the bed frame but standing, fully upright with no outside help, due to his own strength. He half expected to be scolded, though his weakness must’ve taken its toll on Bandit as well because all he did was burst into tears from happiness.

Montagne very nearly joined in.

Six arranged a flight directly once she received the message, paid for a wheelchair without batting an eye and ordered him to take it easy nonetheless. His leg will take a while to heal and the broken ribs forbid the use of crutches, so Montagne dutifully agreed and thought he could hear her smiling over the phone. He missed her curt, professional yet caring attitude, and it seemed she’d be glad to see him again as well.

All of which is why he’s allowed to spend his last night in Germany’s capital in the very same hotel room he occupied before it all fell apart. The life before tastes like honey, sweet and much too rich, thick in his throat and welding his mouth shut: how much he took his health for granted baffles him. How careless he was. How ungrateful. He longs to get back to lazy evenings with an oversized cat purring on his chest, to the chaos of messing up yet another recipe, their light-hearted bickering, not a care in the world. He’s desperate to return to it, without that creeping feeling of guilt over turning Bandit down for a mixture of sentimental, inadequate reasons he can’t even explain to himself. He lacks the words to express why the image of swapping rings or – heaven forbid – inviting his entire family to a big ceremony fills him with nothing but dread when instead he should be exuberant. Flattered, maybe.

“Do you want to shower?”

Bandit reminds him of a puppy, easily distractible and well-meaning, radiating pent-up energy. Montagne regrets having to refuse him anything. “No, I’d rather just read a bit and sleep. I can shower at home tomorrow.”

His lover very nearly pouts. “Are you saying I have to find another excuse to touch you all over?”

Montagne’s chuckle almost gets stuck in his throat. He’s not ready yet and has been racking his brain for reasons why they can’t sleep in the same bed, or why he won’t be able to undress at any point. He’ll have to deal with this eventually, but his foolish mind has convinced him he’ll be able to postpone it indefinitely if only he manages to use his injuries as a pretext.

If he wasn’t so fucking terrified, he’d call himself childish.

There’s no doubt Bandit has made an effort to tidy up the room, yet there are unmistakeable traces of his prolonged stay everywhere – the overflowing suitcase, tissues poking out from under furniture, too many cables for too many electronic devices carelessly strewn about. Housekeeping probably gave up after two weeks and resigned to only vacuum wherever possible and change the bedsheets, and the thought of exasperated staff dealing with the stubborn git he missed like hell makes him smile. He’s heard stories from various nurses and highly enjoyed Bandit’s redemption arc of starting out as a nightmare and turning into the highlight of their days. If he saw correctly, Bandit even bought them flowers. He must be very proud of his newly discovered move to weaken grudges.

“Wanna get on the bed?”, Bandit interrupts his thoughts a little too casually, so Montagne eyes him with suspicion.

“Do you want me to get on the bed?”

His better half purses his lips, probably considering whether it’s worth pretending like he has no idea what Montagne means (and oh, he hasn’t even considered this prospect, they’ll be finally alone and undisturbed, and despite his aversion to show any part of his skin, his body expresses some interest in the scenario) – but Bandit still manages to surprise him by muttering, almost embarrassed: “I just really want to cuddle right now.”

It’s disarmingly adorable, and Montagne’s heart melts. “Let’s do it, then”, he agrees. There’s some awkwardness in manoeuvring him out of the wheelchair and onto the much-too-soft mattress, but Bandit is stronger than he looks and able to provide enough support. As soon as Montagne sinks into the plushy pillows and Bandit presses himself against his side, all tension suddenly vanishes: his muscles relax, his thoughts calm down, his skin stops prickling. He hadn’t been aware how much he missed simple contact like this, the heat of another body against his own, the blissful feeling of being safe, being home, being loved.

This tiny bubble of everyday life suffices to soothe his cracked soul. He wishes he could wrap around Bandit fully, envelop him whole, drag him onto his chest, pull him into his arms – even offering his shoulder for Bandit’s head to rest on would help with his burning desire to be as close to him as possible, but for the moment he can’t. Not without considerable pain. Still, Bandit’s hand has slid into his, their fingers interlaced, and a gentle, regular breath caresses his cheek. Now and then, Bandit nuzzles him, presses a kiss to his cheek, sighs in contentment. They could stay like this for eternity.

And yet, Montagne’s guilt prohibits him from letting go completely. He has rejected this man. Refused to accept him into his life fully.

“If you wanna watch something, I pirated eleven films we haven’t seen”, Bandit murmurs against his jaw and makes him chuckle.

“I remember the hotel’s internet being unreliable. Don’t tell me you used public Wi-Fi? Mark would be horrified.”

“Yeah sure, I just sat down in the nearest McDonald’s and downloaded a hundred gigs of illegal stuff.” Bandit’s grin is boyish and attractive and so cute Montagne just wants to burn the image into his brain. “Better, actually – I asked one of the boys to do it. So we conspired together.”

“Are you going to miss them?”

Bandit thinks about it and eventually shrugs his shoulders. “Sure. It was nice seeing them again. But I think I miss everyone at Rainbow more. I haven’t been apart from everyone this long… ever, I think. Since I joined.” There’s more on his mind, Montagne can tell, so he waits and peeks down at the dirty blonde hair, the wild beard. Apparently Bandit decided shaving was too much of a hassle, so he gave up on it completely for the time being – and Montagne wholeheartedly understands. If he could grow one, he definitely wouldn’t be running around with naked cheeks.

After a while, Bandit adds, quietly: “I did visit Cedrick.”

Montagne wants to smack himself. How could he forget that Bandit’s twin still lives in Berlin? And while he’s proud of Bandit for taking the initiative and seeing him of his own accord, Montagne feels that he himself could’ve raised the possibility sooner. He knows they’re close, as close as any family member could ever hope to be with someone as fickle as Bandit, and he probably would’ve done wonders for Bandit’s psyche. “How is he? How is his family?”

“Good. They’re good. Gave me too much food, as usual. His wife got a promotion recently and the boys are doing great in school. They want to go to university later, imagine that. The first Brunsmeiers to go to uni.” Bandit glances up at him. “I also told them about you.”

There it is. He must’ve been dying to tell Montagne, judging by his pink cheeks and nervous fidgeting, and his demeanour as much as his words conjure up a bright smile on Montagne’s face. They had an unspoken agreement, an implied promise that they wouldn’t tell their families until they’re ready, which meant until Bandit was ready – coming out to friends was a big step, coming out to Rainbow a massive hurdle, and coming out to his family must’ve been a mountain to climb. His comfort zone has been steadily expanding, yet actions like these still turn Bandit into a skittish cat sometimes.

For someone with commitment issues like this, it’s incredible that Bandit decided for them to get married.

“Dom, mon amour, I am so proud of you.” He kisses Bandit’s temple and smiles even wider at his desperately dismissive mumbled reply of ‘’s nothing’. “That is wonderful news. How did they react?”

“Well, they wanted to meet you immediately.”

Yet they didn’t. Montagne’s smile fades a little. Did Bandit not want anyone to see him like this? Best case scenario, he figured that Montagne’s current state simply wouldn’t do him justice, and worst case… Would he be ashamed of him?

“But obviously, that didn’t work out, so I told them -”

“Why didn’t it?”

He must’ve noticed something, maybe an odd expression, because he reassures him instantly: “My love, I saw them yesterday evening. You’ll meet them soon enough, trust me. They were very supportive, in any case. I think Ced is just glad to know there’s at least one person out there who can tame me.” Bandit’s hand brushes over Montagne’s belly, toying with the hem of his shirt, and he puts his own over it.

Maybe he’s being dramatic. Thinking about it, his recent thought spirals followed a similar pattern to the dangerous ones Bandit entertains much too often, the ones Montagne has been trying to interrupt whenever he notices them. Except that Bandit can’t read minds as of yet and probably has no idea what’s going on with him, and how should he. Montagne hasn’t said a word. They haven’t mentioned their brief engagement, or whatever the fuck was going on for a bit, at all.

Maybe when Montagne said that he was worried about losing Bandit, he didn’t just mean Bandit’s own withdrawal from their relationship.

“I don’t like that you see me like this.”

Bandit reacts not, doesn’t glance upwards, but there’s a tightening of his half-embrace. He’s listening.

“I can’t stand it, in fact. I feel useless and powerless and I can tell it weighs you down as well.” Once he’s started speaking, the words nearly tumble out of his mouth by themselves, one by one does the truth finally spill over. “I’m sorry. You’re trying so hard, mon cœur, I know you’re trying so hard to be strong for me, and I love you for it, but… I don’t want this. I don’t want to be like this. I should be the one there for you.” His heart is heavy, his mind darkened and his eyes burning, threatening tears as evidence of his own fragility. Rarely do his emotions get the better of him yet his self-control is raw and worn out from too much use without a chance to replenish. “I know I should be grateful I survived, but I feel like an annoyance. I don’t even know if I can go back to Rainbow, I don’t know whether I’ll fully heal and I hate it.”

Before he can feel guilty for loading even more onto Bandit’s shoulders, his love cradles his head in surprisingly warm hands, whispers his name and puts their foreheads together. “It’s okay”, Bandit mutters, even though both of them know it isn’t, “Gilles, stop. It’s okay. Listen to me.”

Montagne expects platitudes and white lies, misplaced optimism, a few phrases people throw out and pat themselves on the back for consoling someone, but instead, Bandit says: “Look. All of this fucking sucks.”

Well. It sure does. Montagne frowns.

“I’ve been in the hospital before, I was injured pretty badly and felt less worthy than a sack of potatoes, believe me. I was hardly myself, I couldn’t sleep, the constant pain was horrendous and on top of that, all the pretty nurses were talking smack -”

This startles a small huff of amusement out of him and effectively interrupts his intrusive thoughts. “Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better?”

“- I’m getting to that part. But you probably know how degrading it is when you can’t even piss by yourself, right? That’s the fucking worst. You’re like a baby, and you definitely feel just as stupid. It was one of the worst months of my entire life. But you know what? I got better.”

Ah. There we go. Montagne’s mouth goes thin.

“No, I know what you’re thinking: empty promises. You don’t understand how true it is, though. I’ve been rock bottom a few times, but it gets better. You’ve been there for it, so you know what I mean. And don’t even think for a second that each rock bottom was the same level, no, there were times when everything seemed hopeless, but honestly? Each time, it got a little easier to get back out. To get out and get to a better level than before. My parents…” He catches himself and shakes his head a little. “I don’t wanna keep talking about me right now.”

Montagne nudges him. “Please do. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A deep breath later, Bandit continues: “My parents valued independence highly, so Ced and I were encouraged to help ourselves, which I suppose is a good thing. But it also taught us to not rely on anybody else. To not expect any safety nets: you fall, that’s it. Convincing yourself it’s worthwhile to go on after you’ve fallen was hard. I felt like I failed at life, and for a bit, giving up was the better alternative. But I did have a safety net after all: Ced did his part, a few friends did, my boss, too. So it worked out.”

“But you got worse again”, Montagne mutters.

“Yes. I got worse. Still, by then I knew not only that it was possible to get back out, but also that others would help. Miles away from asking for help, mind you, but with more hope. I kept learning. And…” Despite his reluctance to go on, Montagne remains quiet and waits. Some part of him realises it’s something Bandit has to say. “And… as horrible as that sounds, as much as I don’t even want to imagine it… I think I’m at the point where I could go on without you. If you didn’t – didn’t make it, for example, I could… I think I could. The beginning would be the absolute fucking worst, no doubt, but I’d find something to – to make it worth it. To continue.”

Wordlessly, Montagne drags him into a bear hug. Presses their bodies even tighter together, ignoring the stabs of pain in his side, ignoring all his muscles protesting, ignoring the uncomfortable weight against his injured ribcage. He just needs this man like air all of a sudden, and it seems impossible to him how he could’ve ever rejected him in anything.

He knows exactly what Bandit means. It might be put in a morbid way, but he’s trying to express just how much Montagne has helped him. Comparing this version of him with the fragile creature he once warmed in his arms is unthinkable; this Bandit isn’t vulnerable anymore. And though he was hit hard by Montagne’s near-death, he ended up recovering, largely due to his own strength. A few years ago, he would’ve reacted very differently to nearly losing a loved one, that much is certain.

Bandit is clinging to him as well, taking measured breaths against his jaw and hiding his face. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know”, he whispers, voice cracking. “And even if you lost all your limbs or your eyesight or what the fuck ever, you’d still be you. You’d still be as great as you were before. That’s a fact, you dumbass. And if you can’t do Rainbow anymore, you’ll open a stupid dog café in Marseilles or sell Fairtrade products in a corner shop, I don’t bloody know. All I know is that you shouldn’t listen to that irritating voice in your head because it has absolutely no fucking idea what it’s talking about.”

By now, Montagne is chuckling and crying at the same time, overcome by too many emotions to be able to process any of them. It feels like he was allowed a deeper look in Bandit’s workings, like he’s able to understand him a little better. More importantly, he does feel significantly less stupid now that he knows Bandit is familiar with thoughts like these and already opened himself up about them.

“I’m also worried you’d be put off by all my injuries”, he admits after a while of comforting physical contact, feeling much more confident in himself and assured they can actually talk things out.

His better half lifts his head to squint at him in confusion. “Put off…? Like, grossed out? This is nothing, I once had someone in my arms whose guts were – wait, you don’t mean that I’d find you unattractive, do you?”

Montagne eyes his love for a moment, the man whose knees get weak whenever Montagne whispers a single filthy word in his ear, the man who has admitted to having more wet dreams about him than he’d like, the very man who so valiantly held himself back until Montagne allowed him to let loose, and who has never held back since. The man Montagne missed every lonely second he spent without him over the past weeks. “Well, I’d hope not”, he mutters.

Bandit looks at him like he grew two heads. “Are you serious?”

“The bruises still look quite bad, and all the -”

“Okay, listen. You stop talking. I’m going to kiss every one of your bruises until you’re not sure whether it hurts anymore, and then I’ll make you come so hard you’ll pass out. To hell with waiting, I won’t take this for another second.”

He’s not sure whether he should take it as a threat or a promise, but when Bandit starts pulling Montagne’s clothes off his body, he finds that he has no intention to argue whatsoever. And it’s good to know this part of him still works. “Be careful, mon cœur.”

Dark eyes flick up and are accompanied by a growl: “Can’t promise that.”

And though this one was definitely a threat, all Montagne does is smile. He didn’t even realise how much he missed this.

~*~

Bandit continues to do all the work for them the next morning: he orders room service and serves Montagne breakfast in bed while also shoving everything he finds into their suitcases. No need to separate their clothes or belongings; they’re going to the same destination anyway. They should travel more, take some time off and explore the world together – a notion Montagne hadn’t entertained until now as he was never really tempted to leave France or just Europe in general without good reason, and their missions abroad together with the other operators’ supplemental information used to be sufficient for him. But now, the thought of spending a week in a hotel with no one familiar around him but Bandit, the image of them going on walks while holding hands, pointing out quaint aspects of the place around them… it’s enticing. He vows to bring it up sometime.

Muscles still sore from the previous night, his mind is the opposite: he feels refreshed, optimistic, motivated. Part of the reason is undoubtedly the sex, he can’t deny it – falling asleep with Bandit in his arms, the faint feeling of satisfaction still coursing through his body, it’s as invigorating as the act itself, the knowing, challenging stare as Bandit swallowed -

Well. He shouldn’t dwell on it. They don’t have a lot of time planned between leaving the hotel and the departure of their flight.

But anyway, it’s not just that, it’s also the conversations before and after. The way Bandit made him realise what exactly is important, that he can rely on his lover without a guilty conscience. He kept repeating how beautiful Montagne was, even during, and though it caused him to blush in considerable embarrassment, he certainly feels less self-conscious now. There wasn’t a single second in which Bandit’s assurance wavered, no moment where he showed doubt. He meant what he said.

And, thinking about it, it would be the same for Montagne. He wouldn’t care about Bandit’s physical state. He’d still love him unconditionally.

Then why are you saying no to him?

It’s different, Montagne wants to argue in his head. But is it? He’s known Bandit for longer than he did Catou when he proposed to her. They were at a different point in life then, not entirely sure about their careers (well, she wasn’t), uncertain about their future (and children is still a sore spot he refuses to entertain), really too young to make such a momentous decision. He’s been living together with Bandit for long enough to assess how well they work together. How well they fit.

No. It’s not any different in his heart. Where it’s different is his head: he’s twice shy, irrationally worried about getting hurt. And consequently hurts Bandit instead. Bandit has openly declared his wish to make their undying love and loyalty official, whereas Montagne punishes him for a crime he didn’t commit. A crime which was nobody’s fault, in the end.

Watching Bandit tear through the room and toss most of what they own into the nearest suitcase, Montagne notices how there’s one object Bandit hasn’t touched. Montagne’s passport. And he probably never will again, without explicit approval. He made a mistake, apologised and learnt from it.

Now it’s Montagne’s time to do so.

“Dominic”, he says, and instantly all activity halts. Bandit is comically frozen mid-throw, like a deer in headlights. Montagne never calls him by his full first name. “Mon amour.”

“… yes?” He seems unaware of the severity of the situation as of now.

“I would like to change my mind. If it’s still possible.” Montagne extends his hand and, instinctively, Bandit glides over to take it and sit down on the edge of the bed. “I do want to marry you.”

Bandit blinks at him. “Oh”, he says. And then: “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I realise I’ve been unfair. We don’t have to rehash how… questionable your proposal was, but it made me overlook the most obvious truth: that I do love you above all and want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I do want to make it official that way.”

Bandit still looks dumbstruck, probably overwhelmed from the suddenness of the announcement. “Uh -”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like us to have rings, too, so I can carry something on me at all times that marks me as yours and the other way round. So yes, mon cœur. My love. I hope your proposal still stands, because I would like to accept it.”

By now, his lover has turned crimson. He’s fidgeting with Montagne’s hand, bending his fingers and generally not knowing what to do with his own, and his embarrassment is terribly endearing – up to the point where he mumbles something Montagne would swear he misheard. “… for the benefits”, Bandit ends, apparently addressing his own feet.

Now it’s Montagne’s turn to blink, uncomprehending. “What was that?”

“I wanted to marry for the benefits”, Bandit repeats, louder, and Montagne’s mind screeches to a halt.

He stares at Bandit, Bandit stares at the ground. “You… what now?”

“Not just – well I mean, also, but definitely not only… you know, financial, because I think there is…” Bandit’s tongue seems to be disobeying him. “But, mostly because…”

“What on earth are you saying, Dom?”

“I wasn’t allowed to visit you.”

The shoe drops.

Boy, does the shoe drop. This explains so much. Montagne blanks for a second before his brain retroactively feeds him bits and pieces of information which now neatly fall into place, now that he’s been handed the solution on a silver platter. In his delirium, he never questioned why Madeleine was the only one coming to visit him – hell, even his parents did – instead of Bandit as well; he did hear about a fight between Bandit and Lion and probably, in his feverish mind, figured that Bandit was banned because of this and couldn’t visit him as a result. But never, not for a moment, did he consider the option that they simply turned Bandit away because he was no more than a stranger to them, no official connection between them.

No wonder Bandit went stir-crazy, no wonder his mind snapped and convinced him faking official documents was a reasonable long-term solution, no wonder he announced their wedding so casually without ever officially proposing. It was never meant to be a step forward for them as a couple, was never meant as any kind of declaration – it was meant as a preventative method in case they ever find themselves in a similar situation.

No wonder Bandit is thoroughly embarrassed by Montagne’s acceptance speech.

If there even was any left, all of his residual anger vanishes upon this revelation. He’s not even dismayed about Bandit’s motives: had he, at any point really, explained himself, Montagne might’ve actually agreed with him – because while a marriage means something much more sentimental and symbolic to Montagne, he understands Bandit’s viewpoint as well, especially under the circumstances.

Bandit is still avoiding his gaze, so he lifts his lover’s hand and kisses its palm until he has his full attention. “We’ve become victims of a grave misunderstanding”, Montagne states, a smile playing on his lips. “I understand now. Still, my point stands: I would like to be married to you, for the reasons I stated, and also for the reasons you had in mind. But I’d like you to think about it, because we obviously have different approaches and I want to be sure our expectations match.”

And this is the moment burning eyes meet his, framed in an expression so open and vulnerable that Montagne has no doubt about the authenticity of Bandit’s next words: “I don’t need to think about it.”

Montagne’s heart doubles in size. His composure, his tension, all of it melts instantly, replaced by a heady rush of pure serotonin as he realises just how right this decision feels. Inevitable, almost, like this has been their destination all along without either of them being aware, but now they’re here; exactly where they belong. All their time together has led up to this, the difficult conversations they had, the obstacles they overcame, all the beautiful little moments which were wholly theirs. It’s incredible to him how far they’ve progressed, from near-strangers who barely exchanged a word to lovers so intimate they’ll spend the rest of their lives together.

It’s not about the proposal itself, not about the wedding or even the marriage after – Montagne himself knows best that a marriage is no guarantee for happiness; instead, it’s something deeper, significant only to them. A promise to each other, a promise to take care of each other, to stay loyal and supportive, to listen and talk to each other. Ultimately, it’s extremely private, yet they might decide to share it with the world regardless.

“Come here”, he pleads and kisses Bandit, half drags him onto himself and pushes his hands under Bandit’s shirt – no, his own shirt, he notices, the one Bandit slept in. A shirt he brought Montagne to wear in hospital and a shirt he took back to wash it, but it seems he didn’t get around to doing so. Instead he just wore it. “I love you so much”, Montagne whispers against scratchy beard hair, and of course that moment someone knocks on their door.

They look at each other and simultaneously roll their eyes. Lion has terrible timing.

“We don’t have much time left!”, the other Frenchman announces from the other side of the door. “So whatever it is you’re doing, you better -” He stops once Bandit yanks open the door with an annoyed scowl.

“We were actually getting ready”, Montagne lies smoothly and can’t help his beaming expression. The same glowing, fluttery feeling which has settled in his stomach is tugging on the corners of his lips, forcing him to grin.

Lion raises a sceptical brow. “Seems like you kissed and made up then.”

“And out”, Bandit provides helpfully. “Don’t stand around, get this luggage downstairs, I’ll take care of Gilles.”

“That better not be a euphemism”, Lion scoffs, but Montagne catches him fighting a smile himself.

Maybe the two of them are contagious. It would certainly make for a more pleasant flight.

~*~

By the time they’re back in England, Lion is thoroughly done with their shit.

The entire jouney, Bandit fawned over Montagne and tended to his every wish – uttered or not –, all of this done on top of all the accommodations he’d booked in advance. They spent a relaxed hour in the airport lounge, sipping on overpriced drinks and listening to the bustling around them, and even flew first class despite the shortness of the flight. Not even the screaming baby that performed the entire duration as if it was having its debut on the big stage was able to put a damper on Montagne’s or Bandit’s mood, and part of him understands Lion’s irritated response to their admittedly disgusting lovey-dovey aura.

His friend started out being cordial and visibly swallowing various remarks, progressed to thin-lipped, high-browed and disapproving, and ended with eye rolls and audible sighs. Every affectionate nickname worsened his mood, every public display like kisses or interlacing their fingers prompted a judging glance, and every soft-spoken sentence had him check his phone for the time.

Montagne has no space in his fully-occupied heart to feel any sort of guilt, especially because he suspects Lion is largely doing it for Bandit’s benefit as the German seems to relish the reactions he provokes. He is very smug.

His suspicions are apparently confirmed when he’s alone with Lion for a minute while Bandit bodychecks his way through an unmoving and uncaring crowd blocking the baggage claim. “Seems like you came to an agreement after all”, Lion states neutrally.

“We did. And if I’m honest, something you said helped with my decision.” Lion only nods, like he expected it. Curious. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to like him? If so, I won’t need a wedding present from you because that’s all I could wish for.”

“Let’s not go that far”, comes the hasty response and Montagne chuckles.

“Then why?”

A one-sided shrug. “I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

They share no more than a significant look before Bandit returns, masking his annoyance with overdone cheeriness, and so his statement remains unexplained. Whether he finally noticed the mirrored qualities he and Bandit share, whether he’s referring to Montagne’s first marriage, or whether he’s implying that he might meet Bandit with a different attitude in the future, Montagne doesn’t know. Still, the assertion resonates with him.

Seeing the oh so familiar landscape rush past the window on the last leg back to Hereford evokes an odd kind of nostalgia in Montagne. The view is one he’s always enjoyed, it marked the end of a difficult mission, the return to normalcy in a way – because his life at Rainbow has become the new normal for him, his everyday life, the foundation for his daily routine. The company of his colleagues is dear to him, as is the work itself, and as gruelling their training schedule is, he sleeps better when his muscles are sore and his head heavy.

Knowing he won’t be able to go back to this life for the foreseeable future causes a bittersweet feeling in his stomach. He will still participate, no doubt, will be included in briefings and kept up to date, will confer with teammates, offer advice. So it’s not like he’ll be isolated or exiled. But the knowledge of being incapable of doing what he’s used to stings a little.

Even so, his mind is focused on another matter. There are many more obstacles to overcome in the future concerning their engagement, starting with their respective families (though he’s under the suspicion Madeleine has realised something is up, even if she might not be aware of the severity of the situation) and ending with important decisions on how to hold their wedding party – but the most valuable aspect is that they’ll be doing it together.

Although he’s not so sure whether Bandit is ready for some of it.

“Take it to your grave or I’ll haunt your son when I’m dead.”

Lion seems largely amused by the threat, patiently waiting in front of the main entrance to Rainbow’s headquarters for Bandit to open the door. “One of his friends is a flat-earther, so he’s faced worse.”

Montagne snorts and Bandit nearly slams into the doors from scowling back at the other Frenchman. “Seriously though. This is just between us for now, alright? Even I haven’t told anyone, and neither has Gilles. Right, my love?”

“I’d like to point out that you were the one who told Olivier about your ‘proposal’ in the first place, mon cœur. Drunkenly, if I remember correctly.”

“Does that mean I can’t even tell Gustave?” Lion seems intent on making Bandit faceplant after all – he’s got the easy job of pushing Montagne around whereas Bandit is tasked with the much more difficult assignment of holding doors open for them on the way to their canteen. “I would love to see his face.”

“No. Nobody. Especially not in Rainbow.”

“What about Père Bertrand?”

“Absolutely not. Who knows whether he’s a snitch.”

“Who would he snitch to? God?”

“Look. I don’t know why this is so hard for you.” Bandit’s voice is rising in agitation as he shoulders open the last door, back turned to the room behind him, eyes fixed on Lion. “Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Okay? No one needs to know. No one! This is just between us.”

Montagne’s composure is crumbling. Wordlessly, he indicates the entirety of the canteen with a vague gesture, trying his best to hold back a hearty laugh.

In response, Bandit whirls around with a wild expression, only to be faced with an entire room decked out with the gaudiest decorations in pink and white, plus literally all of the other operators arranged along the wall, holding confetti cannons or glasses of champagne, wearing party hats and utterly aghast expressions, and above them, floating below the ceiling, are gold balloons spelling out E N G A G E D.

The awkward silence is palpable.

The champagne bottle in Blitz’ hand pops with a startlingly loud noise, making everyone jump and almost taking out Twitch’s eye in the process, and Lion just starts roaring with laughter, holding on to the wheelchair as to not lose his balance.

“Welcome back, Gilles”, Doc offers and lifts his glass for a toast, and that finally breaks the spell. Everyone rushes at them, congratulating them and greeting Montagne after his long absence, Rook with tears in his eyes and Jackal with an encouraging smile, there are too many faces and too many well-wishes to identify them all. Their gesture is heartwarming, and though Bandit stands in the middle of the crowd, hiding his bright red face with one hand (and repeating that no, he is not taking questions right now), he’s far from fighting the many hugs he receives. When Sledge takes him into his arms, there’s audible bone cracking and joint popping, and Montagne is suddenly glad to be confined to the wheelchair.

Maybe their reveal didn’t go quite as planned, but the support they’re receiving is invigorating. Montagne might’ve preferred a small wedding prior to this, yet being confronted with hard evidence of how much all these people care for them is beginning to change his mind.

He will talk about it with Bandit, later. For now he has a party to attend.

#rainbow six siege #montagne #bandit #montagne/bandit #lion #fanfic #protection mountain #I'm personally very happy with how all this is concluded #thank you to the one person who started all this you know who you are #thank you also to suzie for keeping this ship alive all this time #thank you all #💗💗💗#ALSO #CAN YOU GUESS WHO'S THE SNITCH?

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