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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: filthy rich [2/3] Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mild romance themes, major angst ahead, a bit of mystery, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: He was perfect, maybe too damn perfect.

Warnings: mild sexual content, yandere themes, toxic relationships, violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard [this fic does not in any way glorify these types of relationships!!!] Notes: Happy 605 followers guys! Decided to change this into a three part fic since it would be too damn long....I know this is a long overdue chapter hnnng i fucking hate college i cant wait to see sakusa in the new season, how was it guys? I was absolutely thrown off by akaashi even if he only had like a minute or so screentime hnnng...

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Sakusa Kiyoomi reminded you of an onion.

Over the past three years of going out with him, you seem to find a new layer to him. No longer was he the asshole from that day, he was the sweetest boyfriend, hands down. You were both a bit awkward in terms of affection since you two were treading on unfamiliar territory (much to your surprise, a man like Sakusa Kiyoomi has never been seriously intimate with anyone) but like every other couple out there, you surpassed it. You were now in the receiving end of his soft smiles, warm gaze, and affection.

Although you had your worries like your residency and his company growing bigger and bigger by the day, you started to wonder if you’d last long but the man casted your doubts aside and continued to be faithful to you and everyday you seem to fall deeper and deeper in the rabbit hole.

“...and for the last time, stop buying me expensive things and offering to pay my student loans.” you frowned, stirring the Butajiru for your boyfriend who was coming by today for dinner. Out of spite, early on in the relationship, you had to learn how to cook since Sakusa demanded you to when he learned that you lived a lot on canned foods and unhealthy take-outs. Much to your despise, he even volunteers to pay for your weekly groceries and even got you a ‘for sale’ stove that he apparently can’t return because he misplaced the receipt.

“I don’t get it, don’t partners like it when they’re given gifts all the time?” his brows are upturned, making you scoff. “From past experiences-”

“Are you sure that those weren’t sugar babies?” you cut him off, pointing the wooden spoon on your hand at him, “Because from your description you sound like a sugar daddy.”

“Hey.” He grumbled, walking up to you from behind to envelope you on a hug, “I’m not old enough to be a sugar daddy.”

You shut the stove off and turn to him, placing a brief kiss on the jaw, “You yell at teenagers and complain when it’s too noisy. I think you qualify for a senior discount and a sugar daddy title.” You joked, escaping his grip to grab some bowls so you both could start eating.

“You’re only four years younger than me.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, sticking your tongue out, “Also, aren’t you supposed to be at a party tonight?”

“You weren’t there.”

“Aren’t you required to go?” You frowned, placing the bowl in front of him, “You know I’m not a big fan of those things and you can’t keep handing it over to Komori-san…”

“And you know I hate it when you aren’t there.” He softly repeated.

You roll your eyes and place your own bowl as you sit in front of him, “Always the smooth talker since we met three years ago.” you shake your head.

“Three years, huh.” Sakusa paused, “Speaking of three years, I was thinking…”

You stopped eating and looked up to face him, his face dead serious, “Move in with me.” He asked out of the blue. Your eyes widen and you let down a gulp, your stomach flipping at his words.

“I-” You paused, “I...I can’t…”

Sakusa tilted his head, confused, “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong…” You started, eyes looking at your food, seemingly nervous, “I-I wanna move in with you, my lease is almost up...but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you any sooner but….but i’m moving.”

Silence filled the room that you could almost hear the pin drop, “What do you mean you’re moving?” Sakusa’s voice was void of emotion and it made you scared for the first time. The man wishes you were wrong, wishing that you were just moving someplace nearby but the next words stun him.

“I got accepted for a huge humanitarian work in Medaide.” You gulped, carefully choosing your words as you slither your hands to his, trying to distract him, “We'll be travelling around third world countries, like the dream I've always told you about. I thought, well, I didn't got accepted since I didn't hear from them but it seems like I did.”

“How many months?”

“It’s- It’s a permanent job, I go back once a year…”

Silence enveloped the room, the only thing that could be heard was the faint sound of the bustling city outside. The world seems to have stopped for Sakusa that time.

“Congrats.” Sakusa smiled softly, breaking the silence, “I’m proud of you, bunny.”

Your eyes widen as you immediately leap out the chair and run to your boyfriend’s side, “Thank god!” you exclaimed, sitting on his lap to envelope him in a hug, “I was afraid you’d break up with me.”

You stare at him in the eye, hands on his cheeks, “Now why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, we’d only be seeing each other once a year if i accepted it.” You murmured, kissing him on the temple, “Thanks for being so supportive.”

You don’t notice how his grip tightens a bit on your waist nor the darken look looming over his features, “I’d never let you go, bunny. Never.” he hummed.

You continue on with your little happy bubble with your ever supportive boyfriend, you start shopping for some goodies for your trip that you were scheduled to leave next month. You should’ve known everything was too good to be true.

A week before your trip, the company had called you in and said that you were cut off from the team and that apparently your experience wasn’t enough.

You vividly remember Sakusa rushing to your side mid-day when he should be swamped with work, whispering soothing words in your ear. You were absolutely devastated, the dream job you wanted felt like it slipped away, it took you a month to get back to your feet and actually go out. Despite getting over it, you were discouraged, the words they said echoed on your head, thoughts on how you weren’t performing well back in med school and how your record on residency wasn’t enough.

“Y/N?”

“Oh.” you blinked, looking up to your boyfriend, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“It’s alright.”

It seemed like the only constant thing in your life now was Sakusa, your friends were busy and they had come and gone, you didn’t want to worry your very busy parents so you didn’t call them about your dilemma. You didn’t want to call your aunt or Hinata about it too since you know they’d tell your parents.

Kiyoomi was the only person who stayed.

He was the only one you trusted.

“Is that roommate thing with you still open?” you suddenly asked, making Sakusa paused mid-movement.

“Of course it is,” He dropped the cutlery he was holding and strode to your side to caress your cheek, “It always is for you.”

“Guess I’ll be able to use my duplicate more often.”

Maybe being a humanitarian doctor wasn’t how it was going to be for you, it took another month for you to actually go and find a permanent job. Sakusa points out that you can take all the time out that you need but you don't want to lounge around and do nothing, you need a good distraction.

So you ended up working for a prestigious hospital as an ER doctor, for a moment, you forgot about Medaide with the help of your new job and your boyfriend.

You were happy.

Really happy.

The idea of staying in Tokyo didn’t actually seem like a bad idea now, you were going to bring it up to your parents and tell them that you wanted to stay here permanently with your boyfriend. They’d probably be happy, Sakusa Kiyoomi is a perfect man.

Until you come to the very sudden realization that he wasn’t.

Kiyoomi hated going out on long distance trips, he always wanted to be next to you or take you with him but this one was apparently too important to skip out so you greet him goodbye and wait for him to come home. Being the good partner you are, you decided to clean the house for your boyfriend. Kiyoomi was an incredibly clean person so you tried to keep your sloppiness to yourself when you moved in a few months ago.

Getting rid of the small dust here and there and throwing some unimportant things on the side, you prepare to throw out the collected garbage but ultimately freeze on your tracks when you find a ripped paper on the garbage dump.

Normally, you don’t do garbage dives.

Why would you?

Yet the name on top along with your boyfriend’s name caught your attention. It was Medaide’s logo, you grabbed the ripped piece of paper and started looking through the garbage dump, it did start to smell but curiosity always got the best of you.

Nervously biting your lower lip, you don’t find all the papers but you find one dated the same week you had broken the news to your boyfriend and the words, “Thank you for your donation and for sending us a group of more competent doctors for this batch.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stood there, shaking, the surge of panic and anxiety bubbling within you made the bile rose on your throat.

What was going on?

Was this really your perfect boyfriend?

Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, why would your boyfriend do that? What would he even gain? You bite on your fingernails as you walk back and forth in front of the front desk, “Y/N-san?”

You jump on the spot.

“K-Kenjiro-san.”

“You alright there?” Shirabu Kenjiro asked, tilting his head to the side, “You’re not looking very good these days.”

“Y-Yeah…” You gulped, “J-Just thinking about some things.”

“Well, your shift is about to be over. Maybe you can go home earlier? ER’s pretty much dead right now.” Your fellow doctor shrugged, you turned around and let out a sigh, maybe you should request to go home earlier. You needed to rest. All this thinking was getting to your head that you had almost misdiagnosed a patient this afternoon.

“Hey Kenjiro-san.” you ask your workmate, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“I have a friend.” You gulped down, “They’ve got this perfect relationship and he’s a super great guy...then-then they realize that he did something bad…”

Kenjiro looks up from his paperwork and shoots you his usual upturned brow, “Can you specify what he did?”

“He got in the way of their dreams.”

Kenjiro is silent for a moment as if he was thinking of something deep, “Well if I were that person, I’d leave him. What kind of asshat doesn’t support their partner’s dreams?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips, “Tell your friend that they deserve better and not some asshat who is holding them back.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, he had a very good point, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Kenjiro had a good point there, maybe confronting Sakusa would be a wise choice but as of right now you decided against it, you needed to gather the courage to actually talk to him about it. The thing that scared you the most was how much you loved and trusted the guy too much.

He went through such lengths to get you to stay around, who knows what else he could’ve done?

You shake your head, you were being paranoid yet at the same time you couldn’t help it. Your anxiety towards the situation wasn’t helpful at all and it was spiking up and down.

On your way home, you decided to pass by a local pharmacy because your head hadn’t been feeling very well, “Do you have any pain killers?” you weakly asked the man on the front counter, after giving you your medication, you also decided to buy some extra vitamins because you recalled almost running out of them.

“Oh, we ran out of that brand yesterday.” The pharmacist replied, scrunching his brow in wonder, “Would you like another one? It’s not a generic brand but it’s pretty much the same.”

“Yeah, that’ll do too.” You nodded, after paying for your purchase, you headed home. Fixing up your medicine in your cabinet, you freeze mid-action when you notice how familiar the vitamin looked. Shakily raising your hand to grab your birth-control pills in the medicine cabinet, you almost topple down when you pop it open next to the vitamin you bought.

It was the same.

It was exactly the same.

Before you knew it you were vomiting in the basin, your headache was worsening and the shaking wouldn’t stop.

The idea of the perfect boyfriend was completely erased in your head.

You didn’t look well these past few days, Kiyoomi noticed it because you didn’t even dared to hide it anymore, you wanted to leave him. Not only did he get in the way of whatever you worked hard for but he was trying to get you pregnant without your consent.

You felt utterly disgusted.

You sat at the tub, completely drained from all the events that transpired this past two weeks. The three year perfect streak that he tried to maintain was reduced to nothing but shambles. You wanted to blame yourself for being too stupid and caught up in this sham, your boyfriend was messed up, you wanted to get away but how?

You inwardly sighed, you were stupid. Too stupidly in love and intoo deep the rabbit hole that you hadn't even noticed.

“Y/N?”

Your gaze snapped to find him standing there with an expensive bouquet of flowers, you try to let out a weak smile, “Hey.”

“You’re not looking well.” He commented, placing the flowers on the side as he approached your naked figure on the tub, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, “Just work.”

“I told you not to overstrain yourself.” He mumbled, bending down to your level, “You might get sick.”

You wanted to cringe away in disgust as he kissed your bare shoulders but you maintained yourself, “It’s fine.” You softly said, “I just have to do my best. I still want to try out for humanitarian work if I get a good recommendation from the hospital.”

You notice the quick shift of expression in his eyes, making you tighten your lips, so there it was.

“Again? I thought-”

“It’s my dream.” You began, trying to give him a smile, maybe, just maybe you can let him see through it, “You know how much I want this.”

“Maybe it’s not meant for you.”

“Excuse me?”

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes widen at the new reaction, your smile turning to a grimace. Over the course of your relationship, you had never been this angry, “Y/N, you know that’s not-”

“Get out.” You shakily say.

“Y/N.”

“I said, Get out, Sakusa.” You yell again, eyes seeing red, the bastard had the audacity to keep pulling you back and doing these things to you. You were downright disgusted at him and everything he was doing, what more would you find? The mere fact that he destroyed your dreams and switched out your birth control had you on edge at the moment and you didn’t want to try to find out anymore, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.

He lets out a sigh, “You don’t have to leave the room. I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

You watch him leave and close the bathroom door yet his eyes don’t fool you anymore.

You didn’t feel safe here.

You needed to get out.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is no fool towards your shift of attitude, he knows something is up when you snap at him when you were usually the calmer one (yes, you may be a bundle of energy and spitfire but you were relatively calm in the most part) so he calls the head of your hospital and sits him down, the head is shaking and on his knees, begging him to spare his life and his job for he did not know that you were overworked at all in your department.

“...I watch over her, sir…” the chief shakily exclaimed, “I always do…”

“So, you’re telling me… that my Y/N is a liar?”

The chief immediately freezes up on the spot, “Good lord, of course not! Doctor Y/N would never-”

“What would it be?”

“E-excuse me?”

“Your hands or your life?”

The man immediately cries out, begging him for mercy for he was innocent but Sakusa didn’t care.

He didn’t care at all.

Yes, Sakusa Kiyoomi would do anything for you. If someone were to make you sad, tired, weary, or any negative emotion, he’d strike them down, just like how he paid your friends to stay away, just like how he had subtly shifted your parents work conditions that prevented them from returning to you.

You were his and his only.

No one could get in your ways.

“My name is Doctor Sato, I’ll be your new chief...”

You stare at the new head of the hospital blankly, apparently the previous chief, Doctor Yamomoto, had to retire due to some matters with his family. It was a shame, you really liked him since he was awfully nice to you and everyone in the ward, “...L/N-san?” the older man calls out as soon as the meeting was over.

Your gaze snapped towards him as he tilted his head slightly, you’re completely bewildered by the sudden attention from your new boss, “Are your working conditions alright?”

“Yes, chief.”

“If you have any problem, “ his tight lip turns into a big smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You blink at his uncharacteristic request and immediately move back to get away from his grasp, a rather uncomfortable smile made its way to your lips as you nodded, “I’ll take note of that, Chief.”

Thankfully nothing odd happened anymore after the day ended and as you patched up your things, getting ready to go home, you find your one and only boyfriend standing there with another bouquet of flowers in his hands. The sense of familiar dread sinked in once again.

How would you end this all?

The perfect man was a liar and he got in the way but why couldn’t you end things with him quickly? Why couldn’t you cut him off? You were so angry at him yet at the same time you were so lost, where did it go wrong?

“Y/N…” He greets, “How was work?”

“It was fine.” You quietly replied, turning your gaze at the expensive bouquet on his hands once again. Ever since you guys fought, he had been buying you flowers and expensive things but you remained the same, you just didn’t know how to act anymore around him.

“How was your new chief?”

You immediately tense up, as far as you recalled you had only met the chief today and no one knew about this outside the hospital. How the hell did this bastard know?

Sakusa notices you’ve gone too quiet, “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Word travels fast, huh?” you blinked, regaining your composure quickly, something wasn’t right now, you knew that something went deeper than that little Medaide charade he did and switching your pills to get you pregnant, “He’s alright and please stop buying me stuff, didn’t I tell you that we were fine already?”

“Y/N-”

You sighed and leaned in closer, pulling down his mask so that you could give him a peck on his lips. Inside, you felt disgusted but this was the only way now, “Stop acting all cringey and lovey-dovey. I forgive you. Let’s not fight again.” You consoled the tall man.

You notice how soft his eyes became.

Yes, two can play a game.

From stopping you from moving to trying to get you pregnant, it was those things that made you come towards a conclusion that Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t wanted you to leave his side. The man probably wouldn’t stop at anything, if he was willing to go to such lengths, what more could he do? You let out a tight smile as your boyfriend kisses your temple.

You needed to find a way and quick because the Sakusa Kiyoomi you thought you knew for the past three years was nothing like the Sakusa Kiyoomi in front of you.

taglist [send me an ask if you want to be tagged for the last chapter and as always if i forget to tag, just send me an ask]

@maraudusk ;; @iamnotobsessed ;; @ssuna ;; @weebartistinc ;; @aomineavenue ;; @tsukkismamagucci ;; @onlyshinji ;; @ichiraku-verse ;; @watevermelon ;; @victoriasee ;; @caramelcandescence ;; @n-nara ;; @bloody-bella ;; @ricefarmerkita ;; @paripedia ;; @srhlsx ;; @craftyfawns ;; @kepchups ;; @soggycardboardd ;; @vinnieluv ;; @dinablossom

@kn0xiousnight @newfriendjen

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu scenarios #yandere warning!!!#yandere!sakusa #filthy rich #📝📝.Filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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castiels-majestic-wings · 3 years

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Poems in the Dark

Paring: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1,610

Warnings: None

Posted: 20/01/2021

Loki Taglist: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

A/N: I couldn't find a fitting poem for this one shot, so i made my own. I hope its not terrible 🙏

Loki living in the tower was something you never thought you'd get used to. But after a couple of months of him not trying to kill anyone, you trusted him quite quickly. Tony on the other hand wouldn't let him anywhere near you unless supervised. You never got a moment alone with him. But you wanted to. During the time he's been here, you noticed the small things that others wouldn't. The way his eyes would cry silent tears. The way his body moved with his emotions. The way that words from the others affected him. You noticed it all, and developed feelings for the man. Of course, you couldn't let anyone know, well except for Natasha. She could see through any lie. But she promised not to tell anyone.

Luck seemed to be on your side today, everyone was on a mission, and Tony had reluctantly left you and Loki alone in the tower. You were a fighter. The avengers always tried to find time to train you. Tony had no choice but to leave you there alone, with Loki. The God of Mischief himself. He feared the worst when he left. But you had reassured him that you could handle yourself if Loki tried anything. Even though you knew he wouldn't. Having time to yourself was unusual, yet calming. You had sat down by the fireplace reading your favourite book of poems. You hardly had time to read anymore, so you took your chance to do so now. But as you got halfway through your book, the lights went out. You weren't exactly afraid of the dark. But being an Avenger, you knew it was bad news. Placing your book on the table and grabbing your dagger from the holster around your thigh, you headed to the fusebox. Was it tampered with, or was it just a normal blackout? By the time you got there, Loki was nearby unnoticed by you.

Noticing that it was a blackout you put your dagger back in its holster before swiftly turning and taking a step forward into a broad chest, belonging to the only other person in the building, Loki. Taking a step back, you apologized for bumping into him until you heard a low chuckle coming from him. You couldn't see his face in the darkness but you could make out the small features of his face. He looked calm, from what you could tell.

"The power's out, we should probably light the fire for some light" Starting a conversation with the man scared you, but the silence was deafening. Scrambling past him towards the fireplace, you placed the logs before lighting it. The orange glow hit the surface of your face which he studied from afar. You had grabbed your book from the table closeby and sat by the fire. He admired your love for books. It was one of the things you had in common. Yet you had never conversed, except for a friendly hello as you pass by each other, or the small talk when you had talked in groups. He couldn’t exactly read in his room anymore so he hesitantly sat down next to you facing the fire. He thought of how to bring up any conversation with you instead of staying silent. Then he noticed the book you were reading was one he had read a week prior.

“It seems you have great taste in the books you read. I have noticed the titles you read are mostly of the literary type.” Looking up at him you smiled. He never really liked conversing with anyone so the fact that he started one with you made your stomach fill with butterflies.

“Well yes, Tony doesn’t understand my love for reading, but there’s just something about the way they are written.-” You placed your book on your lap and your hands moved as you spoke, expressing your feelings within them. “-The way they take me out of reality, and into a different one, my imagination runs wild trying to see the images the authors are describing. It’s hard to talk about the stuff I enjoy when no one shares the same hobbies” You had realised you were rambling nonsense, looking down at the book in your lap grasping it in your hand as if it would be taken away if you let go.

“I share your admirations. Being centuries, old gives you time to read many more books that Midgardians could. I’m always craving knowledge, so I appreciate the Midgardian books that I have read in my time here.” Being stuck in the dark with the man you liked made you forget his love for books. Facing him once more you shuffled closer holding the book his direction, eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Have you read this one? I don’t read poems that often, but this one just called out to me.-” A soft giggle escaped your lips as you continued “-The poems show someone’s feelings in such few lines. It’s admirable really. Pouring your heart out in such a small amount of time. I wish I was as open as these poems were.” Sadness cascaded your features. Loki had taken the book from your grasp, causing you to glare at him playfully as he searched through the pages. He found the page he wanted and recited the poem to you.

The one person who helps me sleep at night.

“Within my darkness, you are the light,

The thought of you plagues my mind,

Though these feelings may be true,

For your heart is one, that’s so true, and kind.

Its something I can’t undo.

My love for you is something I hesitate,

I feel as though, you’re my soulmate.”

He refused to look at you as he closed the book and placed it down.

“I uh- That is one of my favourites. It kinda hits close to home, as you Midgardians would say.” He knew how smart you were, he figured you would figure out it was a confession quite quickly. But the silence made him more nervous than he was before. He daren’t speak a word. Waiting for your reply. When one didn’t come his eyes looked at your figure slowly, only to notice a single tear rolling down your cheek. His face was full of panic his flustered state not knowing what to do. He wiped the tear away while apologising profusely. You giggled at his actions facing your head down wiping the tears that continued to fall. He stayed silent at your laugh. The laugh that he adored was mixed with the tears he never wanted to see on your face. You looked up at him your voice but a whisper.

“You- You have feelings for me?” The shyness in your voice surprised him, you were always so outgoing, no one had ever seen you this quiet, or shy. He didn’t hesitate to reply, showing the sincerity in his voice.

“Yes. I know its stupid since we haven’t spoken-” He silenced at your interruption. Eyes fixed at your form, sitting in front of him.

“It’s not stupid, Loki. I get how you feel, because...I- I have feelings for you too” His eyes widened not expecting you to reciprocate his feelings. Neither of you knew what to do at this point. You were inexperienced with relationships. Being with S.H.I.E.L.D since you were 11, you were a trained assassin, much like Natasha, but seduction was one of your weaknesses. Loki might be centuries old, but he never had a genuine love interest. Thor was favoured by the women, as he was the one who always read, and never fought like a man since he used sorcery.

The fact that someone even had an interest in you made your heart flutter, but because it was him. Your heart burst. You took a leap of faith leaning in to kiss him, yet you hesitated. He had noticed, and closed the gap, placing his hand on your cheek, and the other on your knee. Your hand was placed against his chest, the other, you had palm down on the floor, using it for support. It was a kiss filled with passion, and the pure emotions you felt for each other. You didn’t know how long it was before you pulled away breathing in the oxygen your body lacked. He rested his forehead on yours, both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You both stayed in silence smiling at each other as you pulled away to take in his features in the low orange glow of the fire. It felt like hours that you were in his presence, but it was mere minutes before the power came back on. Letting your eyes adjust to the sudden light you missed the atmosphere the fire gave you. You got up and grabbed a spare blanket from your room and came back wrapping it around yourself and Loki before asking Friday to turn the lights off, so you could continue to enjoy each other's company in the atmosphere you had previously shared.

You had enjoyed his company slowly falling asleep to the peacefulness around you. He wrapped his arm around you as your head fell to his shoulder, falling asleep. Not long after, he did too.

Everyone had returned from their mission early that morning, but there you still slept, in the same position. The fire was out, but the small embers left on the logs showed it was used recently. You had awoken to Tony’s objection about how close you two were, and he was not happy. You had a lot of explaining to do.

#loki lafeyson #loki #loki odinson #mcu #mcu loki #tom hiddleston #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki oneshot #loki of jotunheim #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki of asgard

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

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Five More Minutes - Eraqus x Reader

Hey, you guys remember the Five More Minutes - Brain x Reader story? Well thanks to a CERTAIN SOMEONE, the character for the prompt changed from Eraqus to Brain because Nova is a petty bitch.

And AT LEAST ONE OF YOU UNDERSTANDS THAT! THANK YOU!

However, I’ve been thinking about this WIP for a while and I put myself out there, so I’ll kinda forgive ffm-non’s heinous crime for now and post Five More Minutes with Eraqus.

Music Inspiration: Hikari (Godson Remix) by Hikaru Utada

~~~~~

Rushing through the streets of Scala, I bob and weave between unsuspecting citizens on my way to the theater. Today’s the day—hopefully. I’ve spent the last week trying to get a ticket for this show but it’s been sold out every day. Both my saving grace and the bane of my existence is that they aren’t pre-selling tickets, so it’s first come first serve for who gets to see the show.

I’m heaving like I just ran halfway across the city—because I did—but I finally make it to the theater. Unlike the last few days, I find myself in luck at the sight of the relatively short line. With excitement bubbling in my chest, I race to join the queue.

Just as I reach the line, something jumps in my way. I garner the embarrassing attention of several people in the vicinity as I topple to the ground, taking the obstacle down with me.

Hastily, I pull my face from the white fabric.

“Oh gods! I’m so sorry!” I say, scrambling my feet and taking the strangers hand to pull him up. “Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?!”

Suddenly, I hear my name and finally get a look at the young man I’d practically tackled. I know him. While my family does not follow the noble keyblade warrior tradition like his, our magic has been revered so our families have been amicable for years. At least once or twice our year, our families get together for dinner and we almost always see each other at events for the more affluent people in the city.

“Eraqus?”

A beaming smile crosses his lips. “Hey! What’s up!”

Heat surges into my ears. While I’ve been forced to be within proximity of this boy for years, I’ve never been caught alone with him before. He’s certainly cute and, while our parents may not think so, I find him kind of funny. Still, while I kind of know him, because of our families’ differences we’ve never actually been friends.

“Uh, not much. I was just trying to get in line for tonight’s show. But seriously, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

This kid’s laugh stirs something in my chest.

“Yeah, I’m good. My friends hit me harder than that in training.”

The sheer happiness rolling off him is distracting. “I…I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“Nah, it’s alright; we make each other stronger.” His eyes glance away. “So, I guess you wanted to see this show too?” An arm gestures to the moving line that we scoot along with.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to see it the last few days, but it’s been sold out. What about you? I wouldn’t have guessed theater to be something you enjoy?”

He folds his arms. “Mmm, I like some of them, but my friends really wanted to see this one.”

I take a moment to take in our surroundings. “Um, what friends?”

His cheer is bright and captivating, but even the defeated frown it morphs into is somehow endearing.

“Nobody wanted to come early to wait in line, but we probably wouldn’t get tickets if we came on time.”

I nod, understanding the dilemma.

“So Bragi suggested rock-paper-scissor.”

Now it all makes sense. “And you lost, so now you’re here to buy tickets for everyone.”

“Yeah…” His pouting is so cute.

A small giggle escapes me. “So it’s sheer coincidence I happen to literally run into you today?”

That smile’s back. “Or! We could call it luck.”

“I would assume bad luck; you lost a game of chance and I literally ran into you.”

“Details.”

And so we keep each other company. The more I talk to the boy, the more I can confirm how fucking adorable he is. His smile is infectious and I find myself hanging on every word, no matter how wild the tale is. I can barely even drag my gaze away long enough to take a few steps before I’m staring at his beautiful face again. Before long, I can already tell I’m head over heels for him. Even after tickets are purchased, we find a bench nearby to continue our chat.

It only ends when someone calls his name. There’s a small herd of people making their way closer.

Getting to his feet, Eraqus greets his friends. “Hey guys, what’re you doin’ here early?”

“Early?” snorts the girl with silver hair. “The show starts in twenty minutes.” Her golden eyes catch sight of me. “Who’s this?”

I wave to Baldr and Hermod, both of whom I know from similar family social events. They do the honor of introducing me to the gaggle, which is both a bit lighthearted and overwhelming. They seem like a great group of friends to have, despite their differences.

“It was good to see you again,” Hermod says, leading the mass towards the entrance. “But we’d better take our seats before the show starts.”

“You got the tickets, right Eraqus?” Xehanort asks.

“Right here.” He pushes all but one into his friend’s hand before turning to me. “Which seat are you in?”

I look at my stub. “E7.” The look on his face is disappointment. “Where are you at?”

“N24,” he mutters. That’s literally on the other side of the theater from where I am and I find myself similarly disappointed with the arrangement.

“Guess I’ll have to get your opinions on the show some other time,” I say, trying to make the blow a little softer.

Our eyes meet and I feel myself being drawn in.

“Maybe we could meet up at that little café around the corner?” he asks.

“The one with the fancy s’mores?”

“Yeah! That one!”

Eraqus detours the conversation with a tale about the time he and went there with his friends and one of them ended up spilling a drink on everyone—pretty sure it was Eraqus by the way he kept switching names. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Eraqus, the show’s about to start!” I don’t even know which one it was that yelled at him.

“’Kay! Just gimme five more minutes!”

Excited chitchat continues, following tangent after tangent and never with a lull. I could continue on like this for ages, happy to spend hours in his presence, enamored by the boy I never really knew.

I drag my hands down my face. “And then, because I stupidly thought things couldn’t get any worse, I tried to use a fire spell to dry him off and set him on fire.”

Eraqus is laughing so hard he’s crying. “Wait wait wait! I remember Hermod came to school with a huge hole in his jacket! Was that you?!” I nod in sheepish shame. “Oh my gods! We thought he got mugged or something! He wouldn’t tell us what happened!”

“Every time our families get together, our parents won’t let us live it down. Mine won’t even let me join them anymore without asking me to ‘please not light their colleague’s kids on fire.’”

“And here I thought you were the smart, cool type,” he teases.

“As much as I’d love to be, I’m actually a total mess.”

“That’s okay; I am too.”

“Oh really? I always thought you were laid back and easy going. With our families’ prestige, I was always kind of jealous of how calm you are about everything.”

“Then you have clearly never seen me wake up late for class.”

The laughing between us dies down, but before I can make another comment, I realize that he’s watching me. This isn’t watching like two people waiting for cues in a conversation, but watching as if he’s looking for something very specific.

Beneath his scrutiny, my brain starts to malfunction, causing my ability to speak to take a hit. “Um, I…I’m pretty sure anyone would…would panic if they woke up late for class.”

“I guess.” The softness suddenly introduced into his voice feels like an arrow through the heart. “But it’s probably not the same when it’s a weekly occurrence.”

Is he leaning in?

“No…I guess not…”

He is—he is very much leaning in.

“Eraqus.” I can’t even speak above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

My heart is pounding in my ears, trying desperately to drown out my thoughts.

“I think our show’s started,” I breathe.

“Five more minutes,” he murmurs against my lips.

Not a single protest is heard from me. No, I’m too preoccupied with electricity coursing through my veins. For a moment, Eraqus leads the way, soft and slow, likely assessing my shock. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what my reaction should be, but my body tells me to just see where this goes. And with each passing second, I’m falling down the rabbit hole with him.

The world suddenly jars to when the source of my euphoria breaks away. His brows pinch together, concern written across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice wracked with uncertainty. “I thought—”

Without asking my head for permission, my hands snag his haori.

“Five more minutes,” I say softy.

Our lips connect again and, though I’m prepared for the jolt, I still feel the weight of the world disappear around us. This time, I lead, hoping my confidence sends the right idea to the young man. I think he gets it, happily matching my every move. His little sighs cause my stomach to squirm, making self-control difficult. But there will be plenty of time for the rest later, for now, I want to take my time and get a grasp on how his lips feel against mine.

I pull away, using a deep breath the calm my racing heart and ground me back in reality. Eraqus, too, breathes a little heavier, and yet he continues watching me as if he’s still fully enraptured. That look is hypnotizing, subtly—easily—luring me in again.

That quickly goes out the window.

“Eraqus!”

Flinching, he whirls back, where his entire group of friends is standing with mixed expression. My blood freezes.

“What?!” he shouts back.

“Are you comin’ back to the dorms with us or not?” Urd demands.

My eyes dart to the sky. It was dark when the show started, but the moon sat higher among the stars than it had moments ago—or what I thought was only moments ago.

Eraqus’s gaze flips back and forth between me and them. “Did…Did we miss the whole show?!”

“Yes, you dingus!”

Hermod gives a soft smile. “C’mon guys, give him a break.”

The red-head, Bragi, snickers. “Yeah, the kid’s only been dreaming of this moment his whole life.”

My mouth falls open but I can just see Eraqus’s face burning brightly.

“BRAGI!”

“Oops.” The offender grins unabashedly. “My bad.”

Xehanort folds his arms, smirking. “Ooooh, so this is that cute little mage he’s been crushing on.”

“You mean that one he always talks about after he visits his family?” Her tone is full of innocence, but the grin on the little blonde’s face is pure evil.

Oh my gods, I might implode.

“YOU GUYS!”

“What was it he said last time?” Urd asks, also basking in Eraqus’s flustering.

Baldr answers, “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘I would give up naps for an entire year if the gods would just let me have a single—‘”

“I’LL DO EVERYONE’S HOMEWORK FOR A MONTH IF YOU JUST GO AWAY!” Eraqus yells, waving his arms as if he might fly away from this mess.

Hermod begins ushering everyone away. “Seriously, guys, let’s go.”

“Wait! I don’t want him doing my homework!” Bragi protests. “He’s failing like half our classes!”

Glancing back with one last devious look, Xehanort responds, “Let him have his moment; we’ll just make him do something else later.” The expression softens when he gives me a genuine wink.

Finally, after instigating all the butterflies in my stomach to the point I might vomit sparkles, they leave. We sit in suffocating silence for an awkward moment. Then, one of the butterflies must’ve escaped into my brain when I suddenly crack a laugh.

“An entire year without naps, huh?”

Still cherry red, he looks at me, mortified.

His floundering gives me the bit of confidence I need to close the gap once again. “And what was it you so desperately begged the gods for?”

Eraqus’s back meets the wall, but he still puts on a smile, even if it is bashful. “Let’s just say I’ve already lost my napping privileges for the year.”

“Yeah? So if the gods were to grace you a second time, would that be two years without naps?”

His nerves seem to melt and those stunning gray eyes glitter in the moon as he watches me. “You gonna stick around and find out?”

“How long were you thinking?” I slip my arms around his neck, unable to stop myself from twirling a strand of ebony hair between my fingers.

“Oh at least five more minutes.”

“Just five?”

He feigns mulling it over in head. “And maybe five more after that.”

#Eraqus #Young Eraqus #eraqus x reader #young eraqus x reader #gender neutral reader #influence my story #fmm-non

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tinyhwng · 4 years

Text

all at once

request? yes (anon)

pairing: idol!bang chan x reader

t/w: none

genre: fluff + very slight angst

word count: 2,913 (got a little carried away)

a/n: okkkkkk i’ve been out of this game for sooo long so im sorry if this isn’t the best but i tried! anyways, ending this was a little challenging but i hope it still ties everything nicely :) enjoy!

summary: seeing you again, he realized that somehow, the feelings he tried to escape once seemed to have returned slowly, but all at once and you failed to realize that their latest song was all about what he felt for you.

Last week, you had met a producer for a project and you had set up another meeting date to discuss future plans about your music. He kindly offered to meet up at his studio and you had no reason to decline which resulted in you meeting his eight other friends that you now so dearly felt attached to. But out of all of them, the one you bonded the most was Chan. He felt similar yet different. He talked about the deepest things and let himself bring comfort to your terrible days. You vented about the exhausting amount of stress that slowly tore through your resilient willpower to make it through as an artist. He comforted you through the days that made you regret where you were today and helped you bring out the emotions you kept all to yourself. He was someone that mattered a lot to you. A best friend anyone would be so lucky to have.

But things started going south.

You noticed the lack of attention he gave you and you thought that maybe, he was just busy and you tried to understand that. Yet as things went on, his lack of time became even more obvious. He would go out of his way to avoid you, not attend the meetings that involved you and from then, you saw him less and less. You tried calling him but the only response you would receive is his voice telling you to leave a voicemail. You asked the other boys if something had been bothering Chan but all the answer they could give you was that he was "busy". Bullshit. You didn't know what you had done wrong and that was enough to anger you. You wanted to apologize but he wouldn't even face you.

Nothing seemed right. If he was going through something, you wondered why he wouldn't even bother telling you. It wasn't until you bumped into him at a nearby coffee shop that you finally had a chance to talk to him.

"Chan!" You called out for the boy.

Almost jumping, he turned around to face you. His face almost mortified. "H-Hey."

"Can we talk?" You peeked under his hat, his eyes barely visible to you. "Please?"

You both sit at a table as the atmosphere filled with tension grew.

"What are you working on?" Your eyes glance at his laptop which he's been typing on ever since you had gotten there.

"Producing stuff." He answered, quickly but softly.

"Oh, for who?" You were beating around the bush, feeling slightly terrified of what he may say if you ask him what's been bothering you.

"No one yet. Just for future references."

"Chan-"

His eyes freeze at the screen.

"Are you mad at me?"

His eyes quickly shoot back at you, confused at first but realized that you might've felt that way with the way he's been acting around you. "What? No"

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not ignoring yo-"

"Stop it. Stop lying." You look down, frustrated that none of your answers were answered. "It's been weeks Chan. We wouldn't have talked if I never bumped into you here."

"I'm just busy Y/N." His voice became softer, wanting to comfort you. He knew you felt frustrated but he did too.

"Could've you at least have told me that? So then maybe I wouldn't be spending days and nights thinking of what I did so wrong that you don't even bother to look for me." Your voice trembled. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you this vulnerable but it was definitely the first time that he was the reason you looked like that.

‘’I know, and I'm sorry. I-I really should've told you but with all the stress... I- don't know. I lost track y/n" You could hear the sincerity from his voice and although you were supposed to be mad at him at that moment, you couldn't help acknowledge his words. "And y/n, I really wasn't mad at you. I promise. It's just-

"Just what?"

"Nothing. I don't think it's the right time to tell you that right now."

"Why would it not be the right time? Are you leaving or something?"

"No- it's not that. I'll tell you soon, I promise."

You nod at his response, not knowing what to expect but somehow, his words eased you that truly, there was nothing to be worried about. You felt relieved that you now know that you had done nothing wrong.

The two of you parted ways shortly after he received a call from his manager. It was a short meeting but it meant a lot and very much answered the questions you've been wondering about.

A week after your last meeting, you decided to visit the studio to visit the boys. It was a spare time in your schedule so you decided to surprise them. You entered the studio and immediately counted the heads where you noticed that one of them was missing. "Hi, guys." You greeted, lifting the box of chicken with both of your hands that you brought. They immediately ran to you, with incoherent thank yous and we missed yous.

"Where's Chan?" Your eyes continued to wander the room, wondering if he was somewhere you had just missed.

“Not here." the youngest said with Chicken occupying his mouth. "Why?"

"Well, I just thought he'd be with you guys."

"Studio. His studio." Jisung ran up to you, with chicken in his hands and offered it. "Eat with us, y/n."

You nicely declined as you had eaten prior to coming there. "Where's the studio?"

"Down the hall, to the left" Seungmin responded. "He's been there for hours so I don't think he'll mind company."

"Thank you." You made your way out of the room, with a cup of hot chocolate for Chan and a cup of coffee for yourself. You soon made it down the hall, facing your left as you inhaled in before knocking.

The door slowly creaked open with barefaced Chan staring back at you. "Ahh--- Y/N what the heck." His face looked flustered, his ears quickly turning red as you giggled your way in.

"Let me in Chan, please." You cautiously laughed, not wanting to spill the drinks you had been holding.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming... I look terrible right now."

"You literally look the same but go off."

"Ouch." Chan teased, his hands still covering half his face.

"No- I mean you look good still." You blurted out. "Anyways- How's it going?"

You and Chan exchange greetings and he lets you listen to bits of the songs he's been working on.

"Wow Chan, it sounds so good." You stare at his computer in awe. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him as you began skimming through his other songs. "Ugh, why are you talented. This isn't fair." You muttered, with your eyes fixed on the screen.

You weren't looking but Chan was too distracted to even respond to what you were saying. His eyes fixed on you as you listened to the songs he's worked so hard on. He loved it when people listened to the things he created but somehow, it was different with you. The look you have that just got his heart beating faster than usual. The way you compliment his skills like he was the only one capable of doing it. Anything you did just felt so special to him and lately, you were the one that had been going through his mind as he produced songs. Butterflies were definitely an understatement.

As you skimmed through his neverending folder of songs he's never put out, you stumbled upon one called the moon behind the stars. You played it, not knowing what it was. As the melody played, your heart eased into it. Somehow, you wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was so beautifully made that you had lost track of where you were but something was missing. The lyrics.

"Chan, wheres the lyrics for this one. It's too good to not have one." You asked, turning your attention towards him.

"There isn't any-" A slight panic in his tone made you even more curious. "It's unfinished."

"It was created almost two years ago though. Something like this should be out there Chan, I'm telling you. It's beautiful."

"I know but it doesn't really fit into any of our album themes yet." He scratched his head.

"Why not?"

"It's a love song, y/n."

"Oh-" Your face looked back to the computer in shock, repeating the song again. "What is it about though?"

"It's cheesy-" he replied, cupping his own cheeks as he whined.

"Oh please. Cheesy is literally MY genre." You laughed.

He sighed, "okay then." You made yourself comfortable as you stared at him, waiting for him to tell you all about it. "Well first, the title "the moon behind the stars" means two things. First, it illustrates how a person is too scared to admit that they're in love but still wants to have a good front towards the other person they're trying to distance themselves from, thus, "the moon behind the stars. Second, it's about the moon representing the one you have feelings for. Even with all the stars, shining and being pretty, somehow, it's always the moon that catches your eye. Almost like, 'there's plenty of fish in the sea but you're the only one I see.' and it has a melodic piece because even though you see them all the time, it's almost impossible to actually be with them. The space between the world and the moon represents the other person's fear and anxiety towards losing the other person. I say it's a love song but it could pretty much pass as a sad song at this point." Chan giggled. "Well- that's kind of all I have for that."

You listened, wonderstruck and speechless at his explanation. "H-How did you even come up with this? All this time I thought you were just an angsty teen who wants to overthrow the government but I guess I'm wrong."

He loudly laughed. "I don't know either."

‘’Unless... it's through experience." You teased, pinching his sides.

"Wha- no. It's not like that. I was just messing around, really." He explained but with the most unconvincing tone.

You definitely didn't buy it. "Who was it Channie. Tell me."

Channie... it had been a while since you had called him that. He's been trying to stay away from you so he could sort his feelings out. He wanted to get over you, fearing that maybe wanting you more than as a friend could put your friendship at risk. But as soon as you muttered his nickname Channie again, his feelings for you came back, slowly and all at once. It hit him as he saw you giggle as you teased him. He sat there with a rapidly beating heart, admitting that maybe, his feelings were never gone. He looked away, feeling his mouth dry out. The love of his life was in front of him and fear was the only thing that kept him from telling you so. He shyly stuffed himself behind his hands, knowing he had been blushing the whole time.

"Chan- are you okay?" You stopped yourself in the middle of laughing with a concerned look in your face. You placed a hand on his back, not knowing why he was suddenly like that.

"I'm okay." He said behind his hands. His voice was soft, but you could tell he was smiling.

"Are you shy? Did me asking who it was made you that shy?" You teased. "They must've been special, Chris."

His heart was about to explode. You calling him Chris was probably his greatest weakness and although he hears that a lot, hearing it from you made it sound so special. If you could just say it once more, he would definitely combust.

"Chan your ears are red, oh my god. Are you okay?"

He sat upright, collecting himself after almost losing himself. "Yes, I'm okay." He smiled, breathing heavily.

"I'm surprised you never told her about this." You muttered, repeating the song once more. "Probably would've loved it."

"I doubt that."

"What do you mean? Every girl I know that trained under this building during that time had the biggest crush on you."

"Yeah, right." He turned to you. "Did you?"

"Of course. I told you, Chan. Every single girl did."

His face froze at your upfront answer. Stuttering as he tried to go back to the conversation.

"Are you that surprised that I liked you? I thought it was pretty obvious back then."

"Wha-"

"So you didn't think of anything when I was always using the same studio you guys were using? Are you kidding?" You laughed.

"No..."

"I literally came to your busking event when I had an evaluation half an hour after that." Tears were almost coming out of your eyes as you laughed out loud.

"Oh my god, y/n"

“I know. I was pathetic."

"This whole time... I thought you liked Hyunjin."

"What the fuck- Chris are you kidding? Please say sike."

"I'm not. I literally thought-"

“Hyunjin's my family friend oh my god. He's literally like a cousin to me."

Chan covered his open mouth with his hand, shocked at what he was hearing. ”Oh my god, y/n"

"You're stupid." You teased, slapping his arm. "I did so much and you didn't even notice shit. This is peak embarrassing, Chan."

"I- I'm sorry." he teased.

"The hot chocolate I brought after the JYP stage, the-"

"The hot chocolate? Didn't you give everybody one."

You facepalmed at his response. "I- I gave everybody a cup of coffee dumbass. I knew you didn't like coffee so I specifically ordered hot chocolate just for you."

He went speechless, feeling bad that he looked over your effort back then.

You sighed, "whatever, it's okay. It's over now."

Suddenly, Chan wanted to confess something. "Actually, y/n."

"Hm?"

"That song," he pointed at his computer. "It's about you."

You stared at him for a while, not comprehending his words. "Sorry?"

"It's about you. You're the moon behind the stars."

"Huh?" You hurriedly repeated the song.

Chan shyly muttered but it was too incoherent for you to understand, "Sorry can you say that again."

"I- It's actually finished," he confessed. "But it's context is different but I kept the melody and everything."

"What- how?"

He took the mouse from your hand and searched through his folder. Neverending Story.

"Here it is."

"Wait- Chan. This is released though?"

"Yeah, I know. It's uhh, about you." he voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear.

"It's finally admitting my feelings and that however things might turn between us, I won't ever let go as a person that deeply cares for you and that however long I might have to wait, it's okay because, in the end, my feelings for you just don't ever seem to go away."

You stuttered in response, not knowing how to take this all in. You've liked him then and you've always felt the same since.

"Chan- this is beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"It's okay. You don't have to."

"Is this why you have been ignoring me?"

"Kind of. I put out this song with everything I've always wanted to tell you and it was really hard to face you. I know you didn't feel the same but I wanted to at least tell you what I've felt. I was wondering that maybe putting out this song and ignoring for you a bit would make everything go away and let me accept how things are between us now but I realized that somehow, my feelings never left. Every time I'd see you, my heart beats a special type of way and always makes me think that maybe, the moon might not be that impossible to reach."

You could see him tremble as he explained everything to you. You reach out, holding his hand. "Thank you, Chris. This song is beautiful and so is the message. I'm sorry if I made you think that I would never reciprocate your feelings-"

"y/n, you don't have to-"

You cut him off. "The truth is that, after all this time, I really do still like you. More than before, and I feared that I would get in the way of your dreams. I wanted to be your support still which is why I stayed behind all this time. You have been there through my worst and my successful times. You made me the artist that I am today and you let me stay as the person I am around you. Chris, I don't know where this will take us but I hope you know I still really do like you a lot."

Chan took hold of your hand and sobbed as he held them close. "Thank you, y/n. Thank you so much."

#bang chan au #stray kids #stray kids chan #bang chan #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #fluff #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop angst #angst #au #stray kids au

1K notes · View notes

chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

Will You Help Me, Marinette?

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

Halfway into her walk to work, Marinette’s phone chimed. An amused smile tugged at her lips. A new record. Usually, he’d text her first thing upon waking up. Had been for years. She was already starting to suspect something had happened.

Adrien: Help!

She rolled her eyes. If it were anyone else, she’d panic. But it was Adrien, an overgrown man-child to whose overly dramatic, exaggerated ways she was used to by now.

Marinette: I’m bringing you croissants. Don’t worry.

Adrien: U rock!

Adrien: But that’s not it. Can I ask you for a favour?

She stopped at the lights, looking around for cars and quickly ran across the street.

Marinette: Coffee? I’m about to walk by our café.

Adrien: Thanks, but not today. My photoshoot relocated at the last moment, so I won’t be in until much later in the day.

Adrien: I’ll still meet you at our cafe for lunch. Don’t order without me.

Marinette: :thumbs-up:

One end of her scarf got loose and seeing as Adrien was still typing, Marinette stole a moment to fix it, swaddling her neck away from the crispiness of cool air on the early April morning.

Adrien: Marinette, you’re my best friend and the luckiest girl I know, and you’re super smart and creative, so if anyone, you’d know what to do, and I really can use help now in something super important.

Adrien::puppy eyes: Please?

She didn’t bother suppressing a giggle, attracting a few glances from a morning crowd around her. Turning the corner, Marinette inhaled a warm aroma of fresh baked goods from a nearby café. She grew up and still lived in a bakery. She should've been used to this kind of thing. Yet this one was special. It was close to Gabriel’s office, and Adrien and she loved to frequent it during their lunches.

One of the servers waved at her, wishing her a good day. Marinette waved back, asking how their new kitten was adjusting. A brief exchange later, she walked on, a buzzing device in her hand reminding her of an unintentionally abandoned friend.

Adrien: T_T

Adrien: Are you ignoring me?

Adrien: Five minutes had passed. No answer. :sobbing:

Adrien: I thought we were friends? Friends help each other.

Adrien: …

Adrien: You do still like me, right?

She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Such a drama queen and an incorrigible dork. Though, no one would ever believe her if she’d say that out loud that because in the public eye a supermodel, part-time CEO of a fashion empire Adrien Agreste was perfect in every sense of this word. Only his closest friends knew better.

Marinette: I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. I was distracted by Pierre. How can I help you?

Adrien: :D You like me after all!

Marinette: I wouldn’t put up with your insufferable antics otherwise. Now, spill because I’m about to walk into the office and you’ll lose me five minutes after that.

Adrien: Okay.

Adrien: So…

Adrien: I’ve decided…

Adrien: To confess to the love of my life.

Marinette froze in her path, her heart sinking. Tightening her grip on her cellphone, she stared at the screen in shock. Adrien was in love with someone? Why didn’t she know about that? They’ve been friends for years, so how did she miss that the love of her life was in love with someone else? Her quickening-its-pace heart ached as Adrien continued to type.

Adrien: I tried to confess to her on my own many times but chickened out every single one of them because I’m terrified of ruining what we already have if she doesn’t feel the same for it’s amazing and wonderful and absolutely beautiful, but I’m also at a point where I NEED more. It’s getting too hard to be just a friend.

Adrien: So, I’m risking it and I need you to help me. As my oldest and best-est friend ever you must help me. Please, say you’ll help me?

A knife Adrien didn’t know he’d stuck into her heart twisted, ripping through tender flesh. Marinette bit on her tongue and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She needed a moment before she could reply, so walking into Gabriel’s building, she proceeded to the elevator and didn’t check her phone until she was safely in her office, settled in her chair.

Adrien: Marinette?

Adrien: I hope I didn’t ask for too much. You’re the only one I can trust with this.

Adrien: If you’d rather not, though, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out somehow.

Adrien: Are you upset with me? I’m sorry. I didn’t think this would be a big deal.

Adrien: … Please, say something.

Marinette read over the messages a few more times before dropping her head in her hands, propped on the table. This hurt. It ripped and crushed and devastated her, but as much as she’d love to run away and scream her pain out right now, Adrien was her friend first of all, and as his friend, she��d be supportive of him even if it hurt her.

Marinette: Sorry. I got distracted on my way. In my office now, so you have my full attention.

Adrien: T_T Don’t scare me like this. I already thought you hated me.

Marinette: Why would I hate you?

Adrien: Idk. Just a thought. So, you’re in?

Marinette: Are you sure you want me involved? Love confessions are kind of personal.

Adrien: Mari, please. I’m twenty-three. I don’t want to die an old maiden because I’m too chicken to confess to the most amazing, gorgeous girl around.

Marinette stared at the phone. She was also twenty-three, and ten of those years, she’d spent loving Adrien. All in vain, it seemed now. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret a single moment because Adrien had been brightening her days ever since their mothers became friends at a random book club meeting all those years back. She couldn’t desert him now, even if she wanted to.

Swearing under her breath, she cursed her inability to say No to him once again and typed.

Marinette: Alright. Let’s start with the name of the lucky lady.

Adrien: Can’t tell you.

Marinette: Seriously?

Adrien: Yes.

Marinette: How can I help you if I don’t know who she is?

Adrien: Keep me accountable. Bug me until I confess. Remind me every freaking minute that I can do it. Idk, threaten me or something. We’ve been friends for what? Almost fifteen years now? You know how I work and how to make me do things. That’s why I’m begging you and not Nino.

Marinette wished he’d asked Nino instead because helping Adrien confess to some girl was the least of Marinette’s desires.

Marinette: It’s going to be hard to suggest anything specific if I don’t know who she is, but fine. We’ll think of something. I get the front row seat at the wedding, though.

She wanted nothing less but Adrien couldn’t know that.

Adrien: Thank you! I’ll save you the best seat in the house… IF she accepts.

Marinette: Oh, please! You’ve got looks and money. Who would refuse you?

Adrien: See, that’s the issue: she knows me too well. She won’t be swayed by my looks or money. T_T Why do you think I’ve been stalling?

Marinette: Your dorkiness is finally catching up with you?

Adrien: Meanie.

Marinette: :P I’m sure everything will be fine. Now, is there anything you can tell me about her?

Adrien: She works at Gabriel.

Marinette tried to swallow the knot in her throat. Of course. Adrien must be in love with one of the models. He worked amongst the most beautiful girls in France every day, and who was Marinette? A junior designer in his father’s company? Not ugly or a failure per se but she was nothing to be proud of also. Marinette was just a girl whom he’d known her for most of his life and whose every fault he’d witness more than she’d like to admit. Nothing new and exciting to catch his attention. She was an idiot to ever dare to dream of him.

Yet, gritting her teeth together and pushing the thought aside, Marinette typed a response because he was her friend and he needed her help.

Marinette: You can ask her out to lunch for starters? Take her to our cafe. I’m sure she’d love it there.

Adrien: …

Adrien: But we always have our lunches together. I can’t betray you like that.

Marinette: I’ll be fine. I have a few designs I need to finish today, so I’ll eat at the work cafeteria.

Adrien: They don’t have your favourite.

Marinette: I can survive one lunch without an eclair. Or I can call Alya and meet up with her.

Adrien: Shoot. Gtg. Ttyl.

Marinette: Good luck.

Adrien: <3

Marinette put the phone away. dropping her head onto the table. They’ve been so close for years. How could she have missed that Adrien was in love with someone? Was she that blinded by her own feelings for him? If she wasn’t, maybe then she would’ve noticed and could’ve prepared herself and not feel this excruciating pain in her chest now.

Her phone chimed again. This time it was Alya, reminding her of their Friday night plans. Marinette briefly responded, not paying close attention to what she was saying, adding an invitation for lunch at the end. Not that she was eager to be in anybody’s company today, but it was better than sitting alone and obsessing over who Adrien’s lady-love was. She knew herself and right now she needed a distraction not to fall apart. So, pushing misery aside, Marinette pulled her work files and started on finalizing her sketches due by the end of the day.

Closer to noon, Adrien texted again. As he always did.

Adrien: Guess who’s all done and who’s so nervous about today, it showed in pictures and drove my photographer insane?

She bitterly chuckled. Classic Adrien.

Marinette: Nothing to be bragging about. I thought you were a professional?

Adrien: I am. That’s why I’m done already. All you have to do is to imagine spaghetti. :3

Marinette: Dork.

Adrien: Proudly so.

Adrien: Marinette, thank you. I REALLY appreciate you being with me on this one. Honestly, I just can’t do this alone, and I wanted to do this for so long now, I’m desperate. So, your help means a lot.

I don’t want to help you, Marinette grumbled to herself.

That’s what friends are for, right? she wrote instead.

Adrien: She’s just so amazing, it terrifies me to lose her, but I can’t imagine myself being with anyone else. We’re perfect for each other. I hope you’ll agree with me once you’ll see who I’m talking about.

Adrien: Okay, I’m downstairs. I’ll drop by after I see Father.

Marinette: Cool. See you soon.

She put her phone on the desk, pushing her designs away. Tears, successfully withheld by the distraction of work, surfaced at the corners of her eyes, as the reality of what was going on hit again. Adrien was in love with someone and that person wasn’t her despite Marinette’s most daring hopes because otherwise, Adrien wouldn’t be asking her for help.

Someone opened the door, walking in without an invitation. Marinette quickly wiped away the lingering moisture in her eyes. Adrien couldn’t see her crying or he’d know she was less than happy about this confession of his. She was heartbroken, but for his sake, she'd keep a brave face and smile until the end.

“Lila?”

“Didn’t except me?” The woman walked closer and settled in a chair opposite Marinette, a mug of coffee in her hand.

“Not really,” Marinette replied coldly. She hated Lila for lies and manipulations. Why M Agreste hired her as a model was beyond her. “What do you want?”

“I’ve come to warn you,” Lila said, ceremonially checking her nails.

Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “About what?”

Lila smirked, putting her mug down on a table. “Adrien and I are going public today, and we’d like you to stay out of it.”

Marinette inwardly growled. There was no way that could’ve been true! Yes, Lila was not so subtly trying to get Adrien’s attention for a while now, but as far as Marinette knew, Adrien was tolerating her antics only out of innate politeness and kindness of his heart, not affection.

“You’re lying,” she seethed. “Adrien had never mentioned—”

“That’s because he knew you don’t like me, and he wanted to spare your feelings since you’re his friend and all.” Lila shrugged. “But we’ve been secretly dating for a while now. Not anymore, though.” She smirked. “Adrien’s taking me out for lunch on our first official date today. But, to make it easier for everyone, I thought I’d warn you”—Lila’s face became stone-cold, her voice and glare matching—“stay out of my boyfriend’s life or you’ll regret it, Marinette.”

“What if I won’t?” Marinette barked without thinking twice. “He’s my friend. I have a right to—"

“You have absolutely no rights when it comes to my boyfriend.”

“I won’t believe it until I hear it from him personally.”

“You shall see it on the news tonight."

Lila’s sly smile promised nothing good as she stood up, picked up her coffee, and turned around to leave. Her hand swayed. Marinette’s blood ran cold because the mug in Lila’s hands tipped over, all of the coffee inside spilling all over Marinette’s desk, her sketches and her outfit. “Oops! Clumsy me.”

“You!” Marinette rushed to save what she could of her work.

“Stay away from Adrien or this will only be the start,” Lila whispered, leaning closer. “He’s mine.”

“Oh my gosh! What happened here? Marinette, are you alright?” Adrien suddenly appeared by her side.

“Adrien,” Lila cooed. “You’re just in time. We have to help Marinette. She spilled her coffee all over her hard work.” She picked up a few coffee-drenched papers, making a show out of trying to save them. “You’re such a klutz, girl. Let me help you before you do any more damage.”

Marinette glared at Lila, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien took her by the shoulders and turned to face him.

“Of course, she isn’t,” Lila interfered. “Just look at her: the poor thing’s all soaked. And doesn’t she look pale to you? She might be getting sick. We should ask your father to give her a day off. Or better yet send someone to do that. We don’t want to be late for lunch. I'll go call someone.”

The moment Lila stepped out of the room, Marinette looked at Adrien and asked, “Are you really taking her out for lunch?”

Adrien pressed his lips together, looking away as he nodded.

Lost for words, lost for actions, lost for anything, all Marinette could do was to stare at the ground.

“It’s not—”

“Oh my gosh! Marinette, what happened?” Alya pushed Adrien to the side and took her friend by her shoulders. “You’re all soaked.”

“Found her wandering down the hall,” Lila looped her hand around Adrien’s arm. “She’s here to pick up Marinette for lunch which reminds me that we need to go now or we’ll be late for our reservation. The girls can take care of this mess by themselves, right Marinette?”

Marinette wanted nothing more than to slap Lila and take Adrien away. He deserved so much better! How could he fall for Lila? Didn’t he see what kind of a person Lila was? Didn’t he know how she felt about her? How could he ask her advice on this? Tears pooled in her eyes. Adrien was her best friend. She loved him, but this hurt too much. It felt too much as a betrayal, and if Adrien cared for her so little as to ask her for advice on how to woo her enemy, then Marinette didn’t want him to see how much that pained her.

“I’ll be fine with Alya.” Marinette turned away to gather her papers. “This is my mess; I’ll clean it up. You should go.”

“What’s going on here?” Gabriel Agreste himself appeared behind them.

“Marinette spilled coffee all over herself and her work,” Lila rushed to explain.

“Father, I think—”

“You should clean up and take a day off,” Gabriel interceded. “I’ll give you an extension on those. Now, Adrien. Why are you still here? Don’t you have lunch to go to?”

Adrien glanced at Marinette, then to his father. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, I do.”

"Then off you go. Mlle Dupain-Cheng would be fine without you.”

“Right.” Adrien reached forward to lightly touch Marinette’s elbow. “I’ll call you later,” he mouthed and walked out the room with Lila Rossi on his arm.

Adrien didn’t contact her until the very evening when exhausted from the day, Marinette put the work she took home away and went for a stroll.

Adrien: Hey. Sorry, I had a few things to settle. How are you?

She closed her eyes for a moment, before looking back at the Seine. The gentle lure of waves calmed. It mesmerized and relaxed. Marinette always came here when she was stressed, or tired, or needed a pick me up. She couldn’t explain it, but there was something soothing and healing about gazing at the passing-by waters of the Seine. Her own safe haven, a little oasis in the desert of stress and chaos. Today, Marinette needed it more than ever.

Adrien: Marinette? Is everything okay?

No. Nothing was okay, and she’d rather not talk to him now, but… years of friendship and her treacherous heart demanded otherwise. He hurt her, but it was also him, who she wanted to comfort her right now. Pathetic, she knew that, but better texts than face to face.

Marinette: Everything’s fine. Taking a walk.

Adrien: Where are you off to?

Marinette: [image 1509]

Adrien: Pont des Arts?

Marinette: You know your Paris well.

Adrien took five minutes to reply, but when he did, he did so in person. “I know you well. You always come here when you need to calm down or to think things over.”

Marinette whipped around. Adrien was standing just a few meters away. Trying to catch his breath, he ran his hands through his dishevelled hair to fix it back in somewhat decent shape.

“Adrien? What are you doing here?”

“I need to ask you something.” He walked closer, stopping only when Marinette was pressed flash against the bridge, his hands on either of her sides, his face inches from hers. "Why didn't you expose her?”

Marinette blinked. “What?”

“You didn’t spill that coffee. Lila did. And don’t even try to deny it. You never bring drinks in your office unless it’s in an air-tight container because you think you’re too clumsy.”

Marinette shifted her eyes to the side. “I am clumsy.”

“Just a tiny, adorable amount. Nothing serious.” He cocked his head to the side. “So? Why did you let her get away with it?”

Marinette looked away. She hated Lila and Adrien knew that. What did he expect her to say? Why did he even come here? He should go back to that liar girlfriend of his.

“It’s so unlike you. I want to know what’s going on.”

She didn't know what to answer him, so she remained silent.

“Marinette, please? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then look me in the eyes and repeat that.”

She tried and failed. Adrien sighed and pulled her into his arms, whispering into her ear. “Marinette, please. Why did you allow her to walk all over you? You never did that before. What’s happened? You know I won’t leave you alone until you tell me.”

She closed her eyes. The gentle tone of his voice, the comforting wrap of his arms around her, his body’s warmth so close to hers… It stirred those damn butterflies at the pit of her belly, ripping through her heart at the same time… because he’d betrayed her. He’d fallen in love with the only girl whose guts Marinette hated more than anything and there was nothing either of them could do because who could control their heart? Adrien couldn’t help loving who he did… which, however, didn’t mean he could be so inconsiderate of her. He knew she hated Lila!

“Marinette?”

She pushed him away. It hurt to remain in his embrace any longer.

“Mari…”

“Leave me alone. Go to your girlfriend.”

His eyes widened as he stared at her in shock. “My girlfriend?”

“Lila.”

“Lila?!”

“Yes, Lila,” Marinette huffed, turning her back to him, her face to the Seine. “Can’t believe you had the audacity to ask me of all people for advice on that. You know how I feel about her!”

Her eyes focused on the rolling waves as Marinette waited for an answer that didn’t come for a few moments and not until Adrien walked to stand beside her, searching her face with his eyes.

“Just to make sure I understood you correctly: you think I’m in love with Lila?”

“Aren’t you? You took her to lunch just as you said you would.”

Adrien laughed, leaning on his arms to rest on the bridge. “Marinette, you know me better than that. I took Lila to lunch only because my father blackmailed me to do so.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “A likely story.”

“No, really. He said Lila dug some dirt on him and her price for silence was me. And Father, knowing you’re my friend, threatened to fire you if I won’t comply.”

Marinette looked at him, her eyebrows knitted into a frown. “What?”

“Don’t worry, your job is safe, and I made it clear to both of them that I’m not taking part in any of their bullshit. If Father wants her silence, he’d better pay for it some other way.” Gently, Adrien cupped her shoulder, turning Marinette to face him. “Seeing what she did to you… it made me angry. I wanted nothing more than to protect you at that moment, and the best way to do that was to deal with the cause once and for all. So, I trusted Alya to take care of you, and I went with Lila only to ensure she won’t be troubling you again. And after that, I visited Father and we had a long talk about the situation. He won’t be bothering either of us again as well.”

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds before muttering without thinking. “What did you do?”

“Nothing significant. I explained to Father how serious I was about quitting Gabriel the moment you’re fired and we both know he can’t afford me walking out. Not with me owning half of the company in my mother's shares. Lila, though, was harder to get through. She kept dismissing me until I pretty much avenged you. Then she got the message loud and clear.”

As in a haze, she echoed, “What did you do?”

Adrien grinned. “I might have placed my plate of spaghetti in a strategic place for it to be accidentally tipped over and end up all over Lila.”

Marinette gasped. “What?!”

His grin widened. “I only placed it in the spot. She did all the job herself, and”—he leaned closer—“there might have been a reporter close by and he might have taken pictures if you are interested.”

“What? How?”

Adrien chuckled. “Lila hired someone to ‘witness’ and report on our ‘first date’. The guy reached out to me later to see if I wanted to buy the embarrassing pictures of ‘my girlfriend’ from him. I wasn’t interested, but I saved his card in case you are.”

Marinette stared at him for a moment, then erupted with laughter. “You’re horrible.”

“She deserved so much more after what she did to you.”

“Still, spaghetti?”

“Just using her own methods against her, and only because she wouldn’t listen to me when I was nice.”

Marinette chuckled. “Dork.”

“And you like me that way, don’t you?”

“I do,” she smiled, relaxing against the railing. She looked up at the stars and breathed in. So many worries for nothing. She should've trusted Adrien more.

“Marinette?”

She hummed, turning to him.

He looked hesitant, moving closer. “Were you jealous?”

Marinette squeaked, her face flaring crimson, as she shook her head. “No! Why would I be jealous? I—”

“You looked like you were jealous.”

“No, I wasn’t!” Her face burned hotter with every moment.

Adrien chuckled before turning serious and reaching out to cup her face in his hands. His touch, gentle and warm, sent electrical current down Marinette’s body. He slowly started to lean in. Her eyes widened with realization, fluttering close the moment his lips hesitantly brushed against hers.

“The girl I’m in love with is you, Marinette,” Adrien whispered, searching her face for a reaction. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’m the fool who couldn’t find the courage to confess to you for years without asking you to keep me accountable because I’m terrified my feelings will ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I love you, Marinette.”

Dumbfounded, Marinette stared back at him wide-eyed. “Me? You love me?”

His lips tugged in a hopeful smile as he nodded. "Will you give me a chance? I promise I’ll make you happy if you’ll let me be more than just a friend.”

Marinette forgot how to breathe. “Adrien—I… I don’t understand. You said—I thought—”

She froze, seeing his face saddened, and shook her head. No! What was she doing? She’d dreamed of this moment for years and now that it was finally here, why was she stalling?

He slowly pulled his hands away.

She couldn’t let him misunderstand her even if her reaction was puzzling to her herself, so she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him down, crushing her lips against his.

Adrien stilled. Then wrapped his arms around her and angled his head to deepen the kiss. She let him press forward, pushing her against the railing of the bridge as their lips moved heatedly in tandem, years of pinned-up love and desire spilling out. It was only when the air became a necessity, she pulled away breathless and smiled at him.

“I love you too, Adrien. Have been for years.”

His face lit up.

“And just like you, I was too scared to confess. Looks like we’re both hopeless idiots.”

Adrien pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he pressed a lingering kiss to a patch of exposed skin he found there.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he whispered.

“You could’ve if you’d asked,” Marinette replied, running her fingers through his hair.

He leaned into her touch, almost purring from the pleasure. “Can I now?”

“Yes.”

He growled lowly, tightening his hold on her. “Mine.”

She giggled, wrapping her hands around his neck. “Possessive much?”

“Very.” He grinned. “Marinette?” Without letting her go, Adrien pulled a key with a ladybug keychain on it out from his pocket. “Will you also consider moving in with me?”

“What?” Marinette blinked. “Right away?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like we need time to get to know each other better. We grew up together. We know what makes us tick and what we like. Why wait?”

Marinette smiled. Adrien was right. They did know each other well. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t dreamed of sharing her days, her nights, her happy and sad moments, her dreams and fears, her life, her everything with him for years. Why wait indeed? “I’d love to move in with you.”

Adrien grinned harder and pulled her in for another kiss. Slow and sweet, filled with longing, and need, and desire.

“In that case,” he added, his voice raspy as he drew away and, pulling a small box out of his pocket, dropped on one knee. “Will you also consider marrying me?”

Marinette gasped as Adrien revealed a gorgeous ring inside.

“Adrien, you’re insane. What are you doing?”

“I thought I’ll ask everything in one go,” he admitted. “It took me years to confess, and I don’t want to wait that long for the next step. So why not? We can have a long engagement if you want, or you can say No now and I’ll ask again la—”

“No, you really are insane,” Marinette kneeled beside him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him slowly. “How can I say No to you?”

He grinned. “Is that a Yes then?”

“That’s a Yes.”

He held her gaze for a few moments, giving her that goofy, happy smile of his before shaking off his stupor and sliding the ring on her finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life.”

“Me too.”

“I already looked up hamsters in my local pet store. They’re keeping a few for us to choose from until next week,” Adrien murmured. “You did want a hamster, right? Three kids and a hamster. We'll start with the hamster and add kids later—"

Marinette laughed and grabbed him by his coat’s collar again, pulling him closer.

“As much as I’d love to talk kids and hamsters with you,” she whispered. “Right now, I need you to kiss me senseless. Leave the rest for later.”

A lovesick smile tugged at his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Marinette echoed, weaving her arms around his neck, losing herself to the caresses of the man she loved more than anything.

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrinette #mlb #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fluff #dorks #miscommunications #but quickly solved #engagement #short #shortstory

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alliesweetsong · 3 years

Text

Ashes to Ashes...

Sleep lately had been eluding Allie, at least the deep restful sleep she had been accustomed to getting the last several months. It was because of this that she had been up even before the light from the sun began shining into the room that she had been renting in old Town. Soaking in the bath before getting dressed she grabbed her rifle, ammo and pack and set off for the range

Her morning ritual she had started to do since the war ended consisted of an early morning jog, typically to the range if she could, before spending an hour or so practicing her breathing control and aim while adrenaline was pumping through her body. But today was a free day, no heavy workoutt just some time at the range.

The range itself was small and crude and she couldn't really go all out like she had become accustomed to being able to do in boralus, but still, as she looked through the scope at the target she inhaled deeply and let the stress and worry of the last few weeks die down from a roaring symphony in her mind to a low rumble as she applied pressure on the trigger. The shot nearly surprised her, as most good shots did, her breathing in tune with the moment the round flew out of the barrel and impacted the target just several inches above the bullseye.

"Missing in action." Aliths voice echoed in her mind

Manipulating the bolt of the rifle back and forward to load another round Allie inhales deeply and closes her left eye while getting back behind the scope while slowly beginning to exhale slowly.

"You try to beat me, but try in vain.

But when I win, I'll end the pain."

The shot goes wide and impacts the dirt several inches above the target as Allie lets out a sigh and places her head on the rifle's stock as she bites her lip and stares at her pad of notes. Taking a few deep breaths and letting them out slowly Allie clears her throat as the idly pulls the bolt of her rifle, ejecting the spent cartridge and rising to her feet.

She hadn't had whispers that intense since she was deployed in the war. The constant stress she had been under during that time had certainly been a contributing factor, and the fact she allowed herself to become vulnerable once more furrowed her eyebrows in wow as she packed up her gear and slung her rifle over shoulder to have the barrel pointing downward as she strolled to the park

There was very little that the ranger had found that calmed her down than sitting on a beach, cuddling with her husband and son, or sitting at the park, watching others go about their daily routines. It somehow made the ranger forget her worries, if only briefly, to study those around her. Her fascination with how humans lived their lives was comparable to how mages study Leylines and it was something she was always silently intrigued by. This intrigue and curiosity wouldn't last long today as soon, the shadow of her newer coworker Alith stood in front of her

"Ah! Alith, thank you for letting me sleep on that wonderful bed last night, far more comfortable than the one In the inn." She replies warmly.

"Allie…" Alith starts in a low and serious tone.

The void elf blinks and shifts her weight on the bench so that the gilnean woman could sit down while lofting an eyebrow. "Is uh..everything okay?" She now asks of the woman

Alith smiles softly and places a hand on the elves. Rangers shoulder "it was nice to have company,now as for your question. Well, I found his trail."

Alith, who was a newer friend of the ranger had proven invaluable in the search for her.missing husband and squad. The days, and what felt like weeks searching in vain relieved a boost of renewed confidence when she had offered to help. In her human form, Alith was a beautiful, gilnean woman. Confident, loyal, caring and honest. Typically in uniform she almost always looked ready for a fight.pale skin, silver eyes and dark raven colored hair. She was toned and muscular and if one paid attention enough, the scars of battles long past traced her figure. Inspite of wounds long sustained, she still spoke with grace and command that almost inevitably drew respect. In her worgen form, in which she stood before the elven woman now, the cool demeanor was replaced by an intimidating and imposing stature, plate armor and a massive sword as long as Allie was tall. Wasting little time once pledging to help the void elf, Alith had been at the forefront of discovering the orders that had taken the squad away from their home in boralus and into Stormwind.

Allie's relaxed demeanor suddenly shifted to slight panic as her jaw drops and she quickly reached for her rifle once more, her time in the park would have to wait for now.

"Ugh, I wish we had a way to contact each other, where is he?" She asks frantically while rising to her feet.

"Nothrend," Alith replies plainly. "The tundra from what I'm told, the AWOL was a false flag, they were working deep under records. Elysia already has a portal prepared for us, so let's go."

Despite having a slightly more hopeful expression, Allie bites her lip at the thought of taking a portal. Out of all the ways to travel, she hated portals the most, not caring for how they made her feel. Inhaling deeply, she slings the rifle over shoulder and nods in agreement for them to go.

"Okay yea, lets not waste time," she replies starting to walk at a brisk pace "Shadows, Northrend? What were they doing out there?" She asks of her friend now.

"No idea yet," Alith replies, matching the Ranger's stride. I'll meet up with you at the portal, I gotta put on my armor, just in case." She adds in a reassuring manner.

Allie gently nods and inhales deeply before continuing to make her way to the portal the mage had opened for the duo to take. Once Allie arrived she looked at the shimmering image contained of the Borean Tundra and let out a small breath, though she had never been there before, the stories she used to hear of the Valor and bravery on display to rid the world of the pain the human prince known as Arthas had laid bare across Azeroth.

The "Lich King" as he had become known as, had not only succeeded in Killing Sylvanas Windrunner and all but her people, but thousands had perished at his hand before finally being brought low by some of the greatest champions Azeroth had seen. Looking around after snapping out of her daydream, Allie finally spotted her friend approaching at the same quickened stride she had before without a word both entered the portal and left the city behind them. Valiance Keep was busy, frigid and loud as they came out of the portal, despite this not being used for what it once was anymore, it still held its place in shipping lanes and military operations spread over the planet.

For Allie, the air was frigid, each breath felt like she had just walked into a freezer, and while she was dressed for the occasion, the frigid temperatures caused her to lightly shiver idly.

"here we are." Alith states while sniffing the air "It has been ages." She finishes

The harbor may as well have been a different planet entirely for Allie. Looking around the unfamiliar place while pulling a cloak from her pack and fastening it she bites her lip. "I've uh, never been here before." She replies

"I smuggled myself out of Gilneas, and joined the fight here." Alith replies giving a quick pause "I have been back since, but not to the tundra." She finishes.

Allie could only look around lost in her thoughts as concern began to spread over her features. The frigid nothren hair blowing flakes of snow into the ramgers before she wises up and pulls her cloak lower to her form. Sensing the woman's trepidation Alith nudges her and motions to the keep.

"Come, lets have a talk with the commander, and ask a few questions."

Inhaling and trying to smile Allie nods "Good idea." She replies softly.

Following Alith Allie looks back once more at the shipyard wondering just how this all started or where it would end up. One thing was for certain, she never would have guessed or got this information herself and that, partly brought her some relief that it could mean, hope and help was still possible. The keep itself brought relief from the frigid cold outside while made Allie feel just slightly better as they ascended the stairs and entered a room that almost immediately brought back memories of wartime meetings Ardent Circle once held.

A massive table was nearly at the forefront in the sprawling room. Maps, a few swords, laid sprawled on the table, waiting for its owners to come back and retrieve them, and at the head of the table, a tall human man wearing decorative but obviously very functional armor stood over a few documents mumbling to himself as Alith approached.

“A moment General" she gave a salute, though his was a bit sharper, lowering hers he dropped his "A moment, I have a few questions."

The man straightens his posture and regards The Gilnean and Elven Ranger with a sour look of curiosity before recognizing Alith.

"Yes Lady Copeland." He replies as Alith waves off the formality

Allie watches on and inhales deeply as she stands there half listening to what was being said. Every moment spent in the warmth was another that was not spent out there. Could the squad be fighting for their life? Could they already be too late? Each thought a dagger in Allie’s heart, each rhythmic beat of her heart, growing steadily faster.

"Operation Icebreaker, a team of all Gilnaens, they were to come through here first." Allie overhears from nearby.

Looking at the exit, the void elf could only imagine the type of mission the squad was on. How long ago did they arrive here? A few days? A few weeks? Breathing in deeply and closing her eyes, the ranger lets it out slow centering herself, even with the training she had received, there had been nothing about A loved one, or the squad she had spent a better part of a year fighting with, just vanishing into thin air.

“Thank you.” Alith states to the man before strolling over to Allie motioning for them to leave. “So, we fly. We can take Valor my Gryphon, he can hold two.”

Allie inhales and nods in agreement as they begin to stroll outside, back into the cold. The silence between them was deafening, each one holding on to slivers of hope like liferafts adrift at sea.

“So uh, what is Operation Icebreaker?” Allie asks curiously

“A deep undercover mission they were on,” Alith replies as they near her Gryphon and start to strap in “You don’t know a thing alright?” she adds looks to Allie in a stern manner now.

Allie bites her lip but nods in agreement, she was no stranger to how things worked. “Of course,” she replies though it was hardly far from the truth, there was little to go on with just a mission name.

Valor was indeed a mighty Gryphon and with a simple stretch of his massive wings they were airborne in a matter of minutes. Allie kept her head low as they climbed, not that she had a fear of flying, she had been on the backs of gryphons before, but it was more so to look at the frozen ground below to look for something, anything, that resembled the missing squad and her husband.

Alith slightly looks over her shoulder and motions below them “You have much sharper eyes than mine,” She states loud enough for Allie to hear her over the whipping wind.

Allie couldn’t help but bties her lip already way ahead of the human as they continued to fly. Her eyes darted back and forth, hoping to see four others, walking single file as they typically did, or lounging in the snow. Getting ever increasingly frustrated Allie shakes her head. “I don’t even know what to look for!” she replies a few moments later.

“Camps, mostly.” Alith replies

Allie huffs and rolls her eyes at the reply, she had already guessed that. But as she starts searching the ground below something ahead of them grabs her attention. Four gryphons laid near a crashed necropolis. Perking up Allie quickly points

“In front of us! What's that!!?” she cries out pointing.

(Mood Music)

As they got closer however, Allie’s heart sank as she realized the Gryphons were frozen solid, and not resting peacefully waiting for their owners to return.

“Landing.” Alith states as Valor begins to descend.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the ground, and as they did Allie was already removing the strap that kept her fastened in her saddle off as she frantically jumped off the massive bird and pulled her rifle from her back. Pulling the bolt of the weapon back before slamming it forward, she loads a round in the chamber as she starts looking towards the horizon. She wanted to scream out their names, but without knowledge of what was happening, decided best to not do that. But as she walks forward, she spots a trail leading to the ruins as if something was dragged.

Covering her mouth with one hand as they approach the dead gryphons Allie shakes her head :”Okay, don’t panic, they are tough. They likely got trapped inside or something.” she states mostly to herself. “Maybe it was dark...they couldn’t see where they were going and they skidded to a stop.” she continues while making her way to the ruins of the necropolis.

“Stay together, and keep calm.” Alith states softly as she approaches Allie. “What do you see?” She asks curiously

Allie motions to the trail in front of them before looking around for the initial point of impact. “Four dead Gryphons…” she adds in thought. “Maybe flying low? But that couldn’t be right either, all of them know how to fly exceptionally well.” she finishes trying to piece the scene together.

“Could have also been the birds, it is icy here.” Alith replies in a reassuring manner. “Come, lets follow the trail.”

Allie swings around and starts walking to Alith’s side as they make their way to the entrance of the Necropolis, when the unmistakable stench of undead catches Allie’s nose. Narrowing her eyes she looks to Alith as they silently approach the entrance. Inside the source of the undead soon became apparent as they both spot six robed figures standing in a circle mumbling an incantation.

“Cultists.” Alith states softly “Should be an easy fight.”

Allie’s eyes flare with void energies as she crouches down, taking a position that placed the rifle in between two falling bricks. “Give the word.” she replies keeping her finger off the trigger.

Alith removes the giant sword from her back and leaps in the air trusting Allie to Cover her.

“Fire!”

@lady-rian for mentions!

#ic #part one #moonguard roleplay #Allie Sweetsong

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wispandwhispers · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Monochromia!

Words: 2048

Previous | Next

Tw(s) : Cursing, Implied torture, getting disturbing commissions, talked about murder (Tell me if there is any to add)

Pairing(s) : Eventually Logicality, Dukeceit, Eventually Prinxiety.

Notes : I’ve had this idea on the back burner for so long and its finally here

"Zynx, how do you plan to secure the vote in the Fumi sector?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, how are you planning to make a comeback after Foster destroyed your chances of getting the majority ?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, is the rumours of you and Crownford sleeping together true?"

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

A limousine pulled up in front of the city hall and the chauffeur rolled down the window. A simple eye signal and he knew it was time to go.

"No more questions."

"Zynx a moment of your t-"

The chauffeur slammed the door of the limousine and started the planned safety-checked drive back to his boss' residence.

He looked in the mirror at his employer which a cheeky grin.

"I have a good feeling your sick of this question but how in fuck's name are you going to win this election? "

The passenger glared at his employee, clearly pissed.

"Do not test my patience Remy."

"Holy shit, you didn't say my full name, who are you and what have you done with Logan Zynx?"

"Just pass my yarn bag, I'm so fucking stressed."

Remy opened the compartment and chucked the medium sized light- blue pouch to the back.

"I don't understand why you don't you just go around firing people, snort crack, hate sex or whatever rich people do the wind down."

"I don't really know, this brings me peace for some reason."

The conversation died down and Logan got to work on stress knitting a new scarf/sock/ thing while Remy took the back route to his estate in the Prime sector with the sound of the radio in the background.

The usual daily announcements, the signal time, the weather update, the tired host annoying the news-

-Roman Crownford made headlines tonight when he was caught carrying election candidate, Logan Zynx in the bridal position . Rumours have emerged that the two are in a relationship and-

The driver's neck snapped back to stare at the person in the back seat.

"Spill."

"I don't speak slang."

"Fine, explain."

"I decided to go out for a drink, someone decided to spike it, woke up in my bed with this guy staring at me. That's what I can remember at least."

"Sounds like the start to some shitty rom-com."

-Footage can be seen of the actor carefully helping the politician get to his car to supposedly drive him home.

"Please turn that down, If I listen to that anymore I'll get a headache from the bullshit they are spewing. And I already have one from the debate so please."

Remy turn the dial anti-clockwise.

"Anyway, you need to be focusing on which is the best assassin in the area, I personally recommend Remus-"

In the mirror, the driver could see his employer's eyes sharpen in annoyance.

"I plan to win the election without murdering someone and even if I was to kill Patton, I would probably get caught anyway."

The limousine came to a halt.

"You better get inside, three minutes 'til the signal goes live."

Logan let himself out of the vehicle and faced the other

"I'm aware. That's why I wear a watch if you weren't aware."

Remy just shook his head.

"You're still the fucking antisocial nerd you were as a teen."

"And you were the same shade of black and white since you were twelve but I don't comment about it." Logan retorted as he started to walk to his door.

"Don't come for my kneecaps bitch, I'm being a queen in the colours I can see and I'm fucking proud of my basic bitch style."

"God you're so egotistical. Why am I friend with you again?"

"Your bad life decisions, not mine."

Logan heard the limousine drive off into the distance. He would assume the Remy would just listen to the signal in the car. And then promptly go and get a coffee to fuel his caffeine addiction that can never satisfied.

Logan walked into his house and sat down on his armchair. Cathrine climbed onto his lap but he's shooed her away. She always seemed to meow louder during the signal.

Your daily broadcast is about to begin, remember you can always t̙̰̖̲͔͈͚̱̞͙̐̇͋́̅̊̀̅̕͝ų̺̺̟͇͈͎̝̫̱̳̝͈̬͔̩̠̞̙͑̍͒̌̅͗̔͑̿̋̔͘̕̕̚̕͠͠͠r̡̧̧̛̟̺͍̘̘͉̞͔͇̭͍̮̒̋͆́̎̿̀̉́̏̊͘͘͜͠͡n̡̢̛̥̺̱̫͖̹̩̲̝̪͊̊̊͂̔̇͆̓̄̋̓̓ͅ i̢̱͕̮͎̺͓͂̒̊͂͒̏̍t̨̨̥̦̙̭̦̀̄̾̂̽̄͘ o̧̥̗͚̮͇̬̠̥̼̮̫͕̞̪̭̝̼̍͒̇̀̐̌̊͆́̐͂͒̀̋͌̌͐̕̚͜f̡̢̨̢̥̬̳͓̺̖͍͐͒̍̄̋̂̏͂̍̊̏̅͜f̛̹̱̜̥͇̜̥̙͇̻͍̙͈̱̈́̎͋̏̑̑͊́̌̓̓͗́́͟ ȧ̢̧̢̞̙̦͉̪͇̇̾̄̑̽̓̈́̾̓̌͟͜͝ͅẗ̜͎̖̰͖͉͇̦̥́̍̑̄̚͘͞͡͞ ä̡̫̰̪̰̖͕̲͙̲̝̘̤͎́̂̏̇̓̃̍̽̐́̚͘͢͞͡͡ǹ̢͇̙͇̙̯͎̬̟͖̪̥̹͔̙̿́̓̍̽̊͆̈̓̍̎̀̏͌͌͜͞ͅy͓̪̟̲̩̙͚̗̫͚̰̘̫͈͌̍̊̃̎̓͒̄̔͑͆̈̄͠ -

It cackled unholy sound, like the type static made but way worse and the device proceeded to go radio silent (no pun intended). Logan walked over to see if Cathrine had chewed through the wires again but she was curled up in a ball on the heater.

"I got this fixed not even a week ago, It can't be broken already.."

The box suddenly flickered back to life akin to a car engine. Logan sighed in relief, returning to his chair waiting for the-

Good evening lucky citizen, I am proud to interrupt your daily brainwashing in the hopes that you will heed my warning. Stop listening to the fucking signal or broadcast or wave or whatever you call it in your sector.This is probably the most idiotic thing that you have ever heard. I am fully aware. But also was that story our caregivers told us so we wouldn't cover our ears. So you listened through the hidden circle of hell that was the sound you heard. But you don't remember the pain and only the calm when it ended, don't you? In the very likely case you are currently at your mobile trying to report me., let me save you the hassle of trying to find a name. Call me-

Logan promptly ripped the radio cord out of the socket.

Pacing around his study slowly, trying to mentally recall a fact, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. The broadcast had ended the second he had pulled out the plug. He couldn't dwell on that. He typed in a number and let the waiting sound become his background noise until someone picked up.

"Patton, can I stay at yours for the night?"

*****

" Q.Quill. A twenty year old woman who grew up in godforsaken dump that is Fumi, clawed her way to the top and started to biggest drug empire in the city, who always has four weapons on her person at all times, the person whose body has never gotten more than a scratch before the person who dared to hurt her died was killed by her own hands and you killed her sneaking an acid bomb into her Big Mac. I'm surprised Duke. It's less creative than how you usually murder your target."

"You wound me Pip, when I joined this company I swore to myself that every single job I do , I would pour my hearty and soul into. There is no was in-"

"Let me guess, the acid is more than acid."

'Duke' gave a slick grin. "Wanna know what was in it?"

"Nah, I'm still traumatised from the hat job."

She passed a bag to the assassin.

"You know where to pick up your pay check from. Get the fuck out of my office..

Grabbing the sack, moonwalking on his hellys that Pip was convinced he was not wearing before, 'Duke' went to collect his earnings.

He rolled to the Shed, pick up the cash, stuffed a red hot poker into the eye of a guy who tried to mug him and continued on with his daily rout-

"Thomas!" Duke ran up to the named person and lifted him into the air. Then he slapped his face.

"Ow, what the fuck was that Re...," A frantic head shake for 'not the right time. "Duke .."

Thomas narrowed his eyebrows and pulled the Duke to the nearby alleyway. Thomas was going to speak but the other beat him to it.

"I slapped you, partially because I wanted to and because it's not safe to be around me at the moment because I kinda killed someone off duty so the Shed is probably after me and your dad will kill me if I get blood on your shirt and Janus is terrifying when pissed."

Thomas just stood back, taking a good moment to process the information.

"How did you get chosen to be an assassin?"

"Do you think I know?"

Duke perked his ears up. Footsteps. Very light and carefully planned ones as well.

"Ok Thomas, I'm got to play with people's intestines now, say hi to Janus for me and rennet that's nothing is illegal if you don't get caught!"Duke took out a sewing needle out of his pocket than had green thread.

Thomas felt sorry for the victims ,already starting to back out of the future crime scene.

"Sure!"

*********

Virgil stepped back from from his computer, questioning why he even decided to take commissions in the first place. And seeming from the email, this wasn't someone trying to fuck with him.

Time to get some moral support.

i'llburnifigointothesun: What would you do if a guy offered you one fucking million for a piece of fanart of them living out their romantic fantasies

FosterDawg: You don't need to do nsfw pieces. You're not a broke college student

i'llburnifigointothesun:Yeah, I've upgraded to a broke adult.

FosterDawg : So...Why are you nervous about this? You've drawn kisses before albeit it wasn't normally the most light hearted work but this isn't one of your triggers.

i'llburnifigointothesun: the condition is I have to hand paint this and they want it 'hyper-realistic'. i kinda don't want my hands to die.

FosterDawg : Kiddo, at the end of the day, it's your call if you want to do this or not.

i'llburnifigointothesun: it was such a dad thing to end that with an exclamation mark.

Virgil put down his phone, listened to the broadcast ,stared long and hard at his paintbrushes. After about half an hour he got out a canvas and pulled up reference images.

He gritted his teeth. "If they're lying, I'm about to going to sue."

*******

"Dad, I'm home!"

Thomas flung his backpack onto the floor, walking to the kitchen to partially look for his dad and partially to get the leftover pizza.

"Okay, he's still at work which means time for-"

"Thomas you can't watch Steven Universe re-runs until five in the morning again, you have your revision that you'll procrastinate and then panic a month before you the exam date in guilt of not studying."

The father had seemed to just manifest out of thin air, standing behind his son and the other couldn't tell if he had been there for an hour or two minutes.He rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Dad, I didn't ask you to peer into my soul.Also Remus says hi." He fiddled with the remote control, deciding what cartoon to binge watch .

The parent rushed to his son ,checking his face to see if was hurt. "Shit, you didn't see him kill or hurt anyone, right?"

"Yep!"

Janus let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "Thank fuck, you can't be used as a witness."

Thomas walked over to the front door to retrieve his discarded backpack and took out his music theory notes. He scanned through the notes and then lowered his head in frustration."Why did I pick this class?"

"It seemed like a good decision at the time, for you and you just started your Hamilton phase." Janus saw his son staring over what he assumed was the homework. The due date was in a weeks time. He had an internal debate with himself and came to a decision.

"You know what, fuck that!," He chucked Thomas homework to the side. "Do what makes you happy tonight, you seem stressed and you should take time for yourself."

Thomas started at his dad for a few seconds and gave him a big hug. " Thanks, I kinda needed that.. This maybe a bad time but I kinda threw my tie-dye pride flag with your yellow dress shirts.

Janus stared at the other with a glare that could be sarcasm or could be anger. "Well, everything could be gayer."

The dad finally put down his hat on the coat stand and started to walk upstairs. "Remember to keep it down, I'll be live."

"Kay.."Thomas started his self care routine by microwaving the leftover pizza.

Taglist( Ask me if you want to be added):

@katlikethesword, @crinklesnuff

#logicality #wisp writes #i fucking did it #thank you cat #so much #anyway #dukeceit #demus #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 86

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

Three hours seem like thirty. She feels numb; both body and brain simply running on autopilot. Head swimming with a multitude of emotions, yet incapable of showing or expressing a single one. Limbs feeling impossibly heavy. Too much energy expected and expended with even the simplest of movements; gnawing on a thumb mail or twirling a strand of hair around her index finger, or tucking loose strands behind her ears. She’s tired; already worn out from the bombardment upon her earlier arrival at the hospital. Updates given by both emergency room staff, the radiologist, and a team of surgeons; presented with the best and worst case scenarios for short and long term progress, difficult decisions having to be made on the spot because there was no time to waste. Consent forms and insurance and financial matters that had to be discussed, legal issues that her already overwhelmed mind couldn’t fully comprehend.

She hasn’t had time to think; no spare moment to focus on exactly WHAT she’s feeling. Knowing that just under the surface lingered tremendous worry and all consuming fear and an imminent panic attack, yet never actually succumbing to any -of all- of those things. She can feel the tsunami of tears that continue to grow and strengthen, the dull ache of sorrow and grief that sit heavily on her chest, the lump of emotion that is lodged in her throat. Yet she’s seemingly incapable of letting any of those things out, and instead has done little more than sit in a cramped and uncomfortable chair in the crowded OR waiting room. Passing the time by repeatedly counting the tiles on the drop ceiling or staring at her feet as she continuously brushes the toes of her runners against the highly polished floor.

When she’d first arrived she’d been met by the CEO of the hospital -Anil’s friend who had visited the house just the night before- and he’d offered not only his most skilled and revered physicians and surgeons, but one of the private meeting rooms genuinely used by families with a loved one on death’s door. And while she’d initially accepted and had appreciated the spacious -and surprisingly bright and cheerful, given the circumstances the room is used for- area and the comfortable furniture, she’d lasted all of ten minutes when left to her own devices. Once Koen and Rata left to tend to the things at the safe house and the hotel they’d initially been staying at, she’d quickly gone stir crazy. The silence and the stillness unbearable; each tick of the clock on the wall seeming impossibly loud and grating. She can’t remember the last time she’d been subjected to that level of quiet. She’s spent six and a half years surrounded by noise; crying and babbling babies, children laughing and playing and squabbling, a husband that blares his music while working out and is always finding some kind of noisy home or land reno project to keep himself busy with. She’s become so accustomed to continuous noise that everything seems alien now; unfamiliar and uncomfortable and anxiety inducing.

She’d retreated to one of several OR waiting areas. Oddly comforted by the cramped surroundings and the conversations carrying out in Bengali and broken English. It didn’t matter that these were strangers; everyone in the room in a similar boat. Some silent, some quietly praying, others gathered in small groups as they anxiously await news on a loved one. The noise and the smells are strangely soothing; the hum of chit chat and the scent of cafeteria coffee. She tries not to make eye contact despite the curious stares and the odd whisper; occasionally catching glimpse of sympathetic smiles throw her way. Normally she’s social and chatty, even under the most stressful of situations. But now she’s afraid to open her mouth. Scared that if she looks at someone and sees sadness or pity in their eyes or they try to engage her in kind yet curious conversation, she’ll lose it. That a simple act of compassion will have her throwing her arms around a complete stranger and sobbing into their shoulder.

That’s not where she needs to be right now. Giving in to the immense fear and all consuming worry and the doom and gloom that had come with the lengthy list of diagnosis’ she’d been given; less than optimistic results from emergency x-rays, CAT scans, and ultrasounds. She can’t dwell on that; what MIGHT happen. They may be the experts; top notch in their fields and highly educated with decades of practising medicine under their belts. But they don’t know Tyler. Not the way she does. They don’t know the trials and tribulations he’d been tested with over the course of forty-one years. They don’t know how strong he is; how resilient. They didn’t see him beat the odds seven years ago; bouncing back when the cards were stacked against him and busting his ass to get back on his feet again. And they definitely don’t know how much he loves his family; the depths and the lengths he’d go to stay alive and return to them.

The universe can’t give a man a second chance and then try and snatch it away that easily.

She checks the time on her cell phone. It’s now been three hours and twenty two minutes since he’d been taken down to the OR and a small team of surgeons had set to work. Three significant and invasive procedures at once; back and the knee and the femur of the right leg. The latter seems to give the doctors the most concern; a massive open fracture that has caused damage to the spurring muscles, tendons, and ligaments. The main fear -aside from infection setting in- is whether or not there’s too much damage and the leg will be beyond repair. That is a scenario she refuses to acknowledge. The thought of having to make that decision -having to take away something so vital to someone so active and who can’t still for more than five minutes- leaving her dizzy and nauseous.

Instead she’s been putting all of her energy into thinking...believing...that the operation will be a success. That the damage can -and will- be fixed and the placement of an ilizarov -a metal ‘cage’ over the femur with screw going through the skin and down into the healing bone- will aid in a successful recovery. It will be a long haul; several months of out patient physiotherapy and learning how to weight bear and walk again. But it’s better than the alternative.

Sighing heavily, she places her elbow on the chair’s armrest and places her head in her palm. Eyes closing as she lets the hum of the nearby beverage machine and the multiple conversations taking place around her lull her into a state of relaxation. Between her feet rests a clear, hospital issued garbage bag; filled to the near brim with her husband’s personal effects. The clothes are beyond salvation, and she questions their mere presence among the other objects; torn and tattered and soaked in blood. And she catches herself thinking about how there hadn’t seemed to be that much of it seven years ago. When she’d rummaged through the items given to her and she’d fled to the nearest public bathroom; furiously sobbing as she irrationally tried to scrub the utility vest clean with water and hand soap because she’d thought he might need it again. Had there been that much blood? Had his things been that saturated and damaged? Or is it one of the small details that have simply escaped her after so many years?

She scolds herself for thinking about it; comparing the two instances. And she briefly considers trying to distract herself by opening the bag; throwing out the clothes and even the vest, and cleaning up whatever is left behind. The two cell phones, a wallet, his watch and bracelets. The kids would want those last items. Especially the latter for Millie, who had made the newest one and a matching one for herself. If anything DOES happen, it would give them something of his; things that were on his person and would tie them to him forever.

But nothing is going to happen, she reminds herself. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to get through this just like he’s gotten through everything else. And when all is said and done, we’re going to put this all behind us and go home and live our lives.

“Hey,” a quiet voice greets, accompanied by the tap of toes against the side of one of her runners. And when she opens her eyes she finds Yaz standing over her. His eyes glassy and his brow furrowed with worry; a take out cup of coffee in one hand, a tea in the other.

She manages a small, shaky smile. “Hey.”

“Want some company? I come bearing gifts.”

“Company would be nice. Gifts or no gifts.”

He hands her the cup of tea, then lays a hand on the middle of her back and leans over her chair, pressing her lips to her cheek. “I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

Esme wraps her arm around his waist and briefly rests her head against him. “Thank you. But there’s nothing to be sorry for. You did everything right. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. Or stop it once it did happen. It was way out of your hands.”

“Still feel like shit about it though. Guy’s been like a brother, you now? Known him for a long time. If it wasn’t for him putting a foot up my ass and forcing me to grow up I wouldn’t have Siobhan. Or a baby on the way.”

“It’s kind of alarming when Tyler is the voice of reason,” she chides. Nothing could be further from the truth. When things are their darkest or their scariest, he’s the one that holds everything -and everyone- together. The strong, stoic type who may not say a lot, but is genuine and heartfelt when he does. And he doesn’t shy away from calling people out on their bullshit; always trying to help them avoid making the same mistakes he had years ago.

Yaz sinks into the chair alongside her, arm loosely draped around her shoulder. “How you holding up?”

“Okay, I suppose. I haven’t had an emotional meltdown yet, so I guess I’m doing okay. Some wicked deja vu though. Sitting here like this, in Dhaka, waiting for news. It would be kind of funny it wasn’t so goddamn scary and depressing.”

“I would have been here sooner, but there were things that needed to be taken care of. Loose ends that had to be tied up. You shouldn’t be here alone. Last time you didn’t really have anyone, but now you have a whole team behind you. A whole family. No way you should be going through this by yourself.”

“Koen and Rata had some things to take care of. For themselves and for Tyler and I. And they needed to clean themselves up. All that blood. All HIS blood. There’s so much of it.” She nods down at the bag between her feet. “How does anyone survive that? How can they lose that much blood and still be breathing?”

“He’s tough. Tougher than most. He doesn’t know how to give up. Doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. How bad is he?”

“Pretty bad. They’re doing a three in one. He has a torn ACL and MCL in his right knee; they said it’s probably been like that for months and they don’t understand how he was even walking on it. Open fracture of the right femur; it’s caused some damage to the quad and some ligaments and tendons. They’re hoping they’ll be able to save the leg.”

“Jesus…” Yaz breathes, and gives her shoulder a tight squeeze.

“Gunshot wound to the lower back,” she continues. “The bullet is lodged near his spine. I had to decide what to do. If they left it, it would eventually shift. Days, weeks, months, years And once it would sever the spinal cord and cause instant paralysis. I went with the other option; take it out and hope they don’t fuck anything up while they do. If that's going to happen...if he loses the ability to use his legs...I’d rather it happen now. Here. In the hospital. Not when we get home. He’d be able to accept it better right away. At least that’s the reason I gave them when I told them to go ahead and to the surgery.”

“It was the right choice,” Yaz assures her “That’s exactly what he’d want. Exactly would be easier on him.”

“We have talked endlessly about these kinds of things; stuff going wrong on the job. But we never talked about THIS. We’ve talked about what happens if he dies, what happens if he gets a severe brain injury and has to have around the clock care for the rest of his life, what happens if he loses his hearing or his sight. But not about this. Not about losing a leg or never being able to walk again. And I’m worried. I’m scared I didn’t do the right thing. For him.”

“You DID do the right thing. You know Tyler better than anyone.”

“And I don’t care if he can’t walk again. Or if he loses his leg. Or if something goes wrong during surgery and I have to take care of him for the rest of our lives; be a wife AND a nurse. None of that matters to me. He’s my husband. He’s the father of my children. And I love him regardless. I just want him to be okay. I just want him to live. We have five kids. We have another on the way. We…”

“Wait...hold up..what?”

“Shit….” she groans, and places her palm against her forehead. “...I wasn’t supposed to say anything. We were waiting; until we got home and I found how far along I am.”

“You’re pregnant? You’re having a baby?”

“Surprise, right? It technically shouldn’t have happened. But Tyler didn’t exactly handle the recovery from the vasectomy the way he was supposed to and….well…” she lifts the bottom of her hoodie and t-shirt and runs a hand over the small baby bump. “...here we are. Little bean and I. Another Rake to add to the world.”

“More proof that things happen for a reason. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. The silver lining, right?”

“That’s one way to look at it, I guess. And that’s what he needs to be okay. Because of the baby. What kind of universe would let a man create a life and then kill him before he gets the chance to even see it?”

“He’s going to be alright. He’s strong. Tough. And stubborn as hell.”

She gives a small laugh. “That seems to be the quality everyone associates with him. You guys only the tip of that particular iceberg. Try living with him every day for almost seven years. You don’t know the full extent of that stubbornness, believe me. And I know I complain about it; how hard headed he is. But it isn’t all bad. Him being that way. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me and kids. No battle he wouldn’t fight. And that’s how I know he’ll get through this; he wants to see us again.”

Yaz presses a kiss to her temple, then lays his hand on her shoulder, drawing her into him. “I should have got you decaf,” he says, and nods down at the tea in her hand.

Esme manages a laugh. “It’s fine. One regular tea a day won’t hurt. And thank you.”

“No thanks needed. It’s just a tea.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean for coming here. Showing up. Sitting her with me. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I got you,” Yaz assures her, placing a hand on the top of her head and bringing it down to his shoulder. “I got you.”

****

Nik is waiting in the hallway when Esme steps through the sliding doors that lead to and from the intensive care unit. Uncharacteristically dressed down in a simple pair of jeans and a black t-shirt; no make up on her face, glossy black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Pacing relentlessly; the soles of her black patent flats clicking against the polished tiles.

“How is he?” Nik inquires, and Esme gives a small start; lost in a world of worry and fear and tremendous responsibility; brain doing battle with all of the negatives of the situation when she’s trying to search for the positives.

“Still in recovery.” It’s been seven hours since the incident at the storage facility; six spent anxiously waiting as her husband underwent extensive surgery “They just moved him there half an hour ago. I was just getting a tour of where he’s going to be for a while. This will be home for a bit, I guess. It’s really nice; as far as ICUs go. Very patient and patient family friendly.”

“There’s a hotel right across the street,” Nik informs her. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable there?”

“I don’t want to be away from him. I don’t want him to be alone.”

“You wouldn’t be far away. Couple hundred yards from the front entrance. And it’s not like they won’t contact you if they need you. You’d be close, you’d be able to sleep properly.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Esme remains adamant. “He’s not going to be alone. He deserves better than that.”

“Tyler wouldn’t want you burning yourself out. He wouldn’t want you worrying yourself sick. Not eating or sleeping properly…”

“He’s my husband and I’m not leaving him alone. Maybe you’d make a different decision, but this is mine. Respect it. Please.”

“Fair enough. I’m just concerned about you. That’s all I just want what’s best for you. For BOTH of you.”

“Why are you even here?” Esme asks, and steps out of the way of an orderly pushing an empty bed. Leaning back against the wall next to the sliding doors, arms crossed over her chest and one ankle over the other. “You were supposed to go back to Australia; with Ovi and Kyle and the kids. To make sure there’s no trouble waiting for when they get home. I thought that’s what we agreed on.”

“Flight doesn’t leave for a few hours. I wanted to check on things. On you. On Tyler.”

“He made it through the surgery. Or surgeries, I should say. There were no complications and they were able to remove the bullet. I guess they did some tests to check on his nerves and his reflexes and his legs ARE responding. Not a perfect score by any means, but it’s a lot better than they expected.”

“So he’ll be able to walk?”

“They didn’t come right out and say THAT. But they didn’t say he wouldn’t, either. They’re cautiously optimistic. And I’ll take cautious optimism right about now. He is breathing on his own, though. He needs a bit of supplemental oxygen but no intubation. They’ve given him nerve blocks in the small of his back and his legs and he’s pretty heavily sedated. Doctor said they’d keep him that way for a few days, then slowly bring him out of it.”

“And the leg?”

“They were able to salvage it. He’ll have the ilizarov on for a couple months, at least. But it’s better than the alternative. They’re going to fix his shoulder; torn rotator cuff, shredded labrum, some scar tissue from the last surgery that’s pressing on some nerves. I told them to hold off until he’s able to be sent home and admitted there. I didn’t want to put him through too much all at once. That’s a lot for one person to handle. Even Tyler.”

Nik nods in agreement. “Do they know how long? Before he can be sent to a hospital closer to home?”

“Depends on how well he does here. They said to be prepared to be here for two weeks at least. A month is the worst case scenario. That’s if there’s complications or infections. But they did say he’s strong; his heart rate and oxygen levels stayed stable the whole time in the OR. And he wasn’t conscious when he was brought in or in recovery but he is responding to stimuli.Voices and touch. So that’s a good sign.

“A very good sign. Have you seen him?”

“No. They said they’d call me when he’s brought here But I know it’s bad. He’s in really rough shape. I guess Nathan carved his face up pretty good and he cracked his open; tons of stitches and a skull fracture and a severe concussion. There’s no swelling on the brain though. At least not yet. They’ll keep an eye on him. Fingers crossed, right? Maybe he’ll be spared at least a little bit.”

“And you?” Nik asks. “How are YOU?”

“I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t think the enormity of it has hit me yet. It doesn’t seem real right now. I haven’t even been able to see him; he was already down getting x-rays and a CAT scan when I got here, and then they took him to the OR. It’ll hit me then, I guess. When I finally DO see him.”

“Do you want me to stay? So you won’t be alone? Anil could push the flight back a couple of hours; I could go in and be with you. You shouldn’t be by yourself, Esme. This isn’t seven years ago. A lot has changed since then. Especially between you and Tyler.”

“I appreciate the offer, Nik; I really do. But I WANT to be alone with him. When I first see him. It’s something I need to do by myself. And I just want my kids out of Mumbai. I want them back home. I want them to get back to their lives. Or at least some parts of their lives, at least. And I’d also really appreciate it if you could make sure Ovi and Kyle stick to the story that I’ve told them; that we had to stay behind for a few days but we’ll be home soon. I need some time; to figure out what and how to tell them.”

“I’ll make sure no one says anything. But if the kids ask…?”

“Just tell them something unexpected came up that Tyler needed to take care of and I decided to help out. I honestly don’t know how to tell them anything else right now. I’m still trying to wrap MY head around what’s happened. And how serious it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around for a few hours? I don't want you to be alone.”

“It’s fine, Nik. I’M fine. Honest. I’m not giving you the brush off because of our ‘issues’. I really am okay. And I just need to be alone with my husband the first time I see him. I know that probably doesn’t make any sense to you but it makes sense to me.”

“Do you need anything? Do you need some clothes or a toothbrush, toothpaste, anything at all? Name it and I’ll get it for you.”

“Koen and Rata went to the safe house and got all our things. I’m good. And they got a room across the street and are going to stick around for a few days at least. So I won’t be totally alone; they’re only a text away if I need something.”

“I just wish there was something I could do,” Nik laments, and reaches out to tuck wayward strands of hair behind Esme’s ears, then gently cradles her face in her palms. “Something I say, even. That would make this all better. I’d do it; take it all away. Make him better.”

Esme manages a brave smile, then swallows around the lump of emotion sitting in her throat and nods. “I know you would. And I appreciate everything you have done; showing up in Mumbai and making sure the kids were safe. And I know Tyler appreciates that too. He doesn’t trust a lot of people with them. Or me. But you’re on the top of the very short list of those he does.”

“I’d do it again. In a heartbeat. I know you don’t believe me when I tell you that I’m sorry. For everything I’ve said, everything I’ve done. But I am. Sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. I do appreciate what you’re saying, but I just don’t have the time or the heart for this conversation. I just can’t right now, Nik. When all this is over and he’s stable and he’s home, maybe I can do it. But not now. And I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. It’s me. All me.”

“Tyler has a friend back home. Andy. You met him at Millie’s party. He’s the aboriginal artist; has a kiddo with special needs.”

“I remember.”

“His business card is on the fridge. If you could call him and ask him to contact me? He has my cell number. Just tell him that Tyler’s hurt and in the hospital and I’d like him to call me. Please?”

“I’ll do it as soon as we get to your place.”

Esme sighs, then combs her fingers through her hair and crosses her over her chest; hands running up and down her biceps. “What’s going on down there?” she asks, and nods down the hallway to where Anil is huddled in quiet conversation with Koen, Rata, and Yaz.

“Anil is praying. He’s quite spiritual. Apparently Saju was too.”

“Always amazes me what people in our line of work can actually be into. It’s fascinating, really. How we can lie so easily and hurt people and take lives yet still believe and have so much faith in something. How long has something been going on between the two of you?”

“What?” Nik gives a small laugh “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You and Anil. Don’t deny it; he’s been watching you the entire time we’ve been talking. And I know that look on his face. In his eyes. That’s ‘the look’. I have someone that looks at me pretty much the same way.”

“Trust me, no one can look at anyone the way Tyler looks at you. And Anil’s probably just worried about you and how you’re holding up. He feels responsible; for how things ended up.”

“It’s no one’s fault. No one had a reason to think Nathan was off the rails and working for Mahajan.”

“Tyler did,” Nik points out. “He thought Nathan was the mole the entire time. And he tried telling me. He even had the evidence and I just wouldn’t listen. I just thought he was being paranoid. He gets that way sometimes; ever since the PTSD was diagnosed.”

Esme nods in agreement. “I’ve accused him of it a few times. Always turns out he DID have something to worry about. I won’t do THAT again; laugh it off or tell him he’s crazy and needs to stop reading too much into things.”

“I just thought getting attacked rattled him and he was looking for someone to blame. And punish. I should have taken him more seriously. And I regret that. You have no idea how much.”

“Believe me, I’ve said some things to him over the past few months that I regret. And nothing is more painful than that. Regret. I just hope I get the chance to tell him that. That I was wrong. That I’m sorry. I really hope I get that chance.”

“You will. He’s tough. Toughest person I know. Present company not included.”

“I don’t feel so tough right about now,” she admits. “I feel empty and broken and I’m scared and I’m just…” she sighs once more, shaking her head slowly as she stares down at her feet; toe of one runner rubbing across the tiles. .”...well mostly I’m just scared. And you know, this Nathan thing. This whole ‘you and him’? Sometimes we get so caught up in the idea of someone that we refuse to see the bad stuff or we just ignore it entirely; we hope we can fix them. I’ve made that mistake before. Why do you think I’m on my second marriage?”

“Ask me, you definitely traded up the second time around.”

“I did,” she smiles. “I really did. He’s a keeper, that’s for sure. My knight in slightly tarnished armour. And Anil seems like a keeper, too. He’s a good guy. Definitely doesn’t pull any punches or play games. What you see is what you get. And if you ask me, the view is good. He’s pretty nice to look at, isn’t he.”

Nik grins.

“I’m married, not dead. I do notice and appreciate attractive people. And he definitely fits the bill. I think he’s a perfect match for you. You’re a lot alike, personality wise. He reminds me of you, actually In all good ways. I hope it works out for you, Nik. You deserve someone great.”

“Even after everything I did? The pain I caused you?”

“I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even you. I just want you to be happy. You deserve that. To be happy. And maybe this is it. Maybe HE’S it. It happens when you least expect it, that’s for sure. I’m kind of an expert on that subject. I think I’ve written the damn book when it comes to meeting someone under the weirdest and most fucked up situation. And somehow still making it work.”

“I think you and Tyler are the co-authors of THAT book. I was just thinking about you guys the other day; how it doesn’t seem like seven years.”

“Oh believe me, there’s times it feels like seventy. This would be one of those times. And then there’s those amazing days where it seems like no one time has passed. Like we’re still brand new in everything and still enjoying every moment together and just loving each other as much as we can. Some mornings I’ll walk into the kitchen and he’s in there and he kisses me like it’s the first time all over again. And it’s...I don’t know…beautiful.”

“You’ll get more of those times. More of those kisses.”

“I hope so. Because I’d miss those kisses. I’d miss all of his kisses, actually. Even when he’s grumpy or pouty and I force him to kiss me. Don’t tell him I said that; that he gets pouty. He swears he doesn’t, but he does. You know Tanner’s pout? Picture that on a grown man. On a mercenary covered in tattoos in scars. Trust me, Tyler pouts. And it’s adorable. Don’t tell him I said THAT either.”

Nik gives a small laugh, then runs a hand over Esme’s hair and settles it at the nape of her neck. “Do you want a change of scenery? They’ll call you, right? When they’ve moved him here.”

“Yeah, they said they’d text my cell. They said it would be awhile. They need to keep an eye on him in recovery for a bit. Oxygen, heart rate, that kind of thing.”

“Do you want to grab a tea? Some fresh air?”

“I could use a bit of both, actually. And a phone charger. Koen couldn’t find mine at the house. I swear those things just vanish into thin air or grow legs and walk away. And I should call Tyler’s dad. I’m sure that’s the last person he wants me to call but it is his father. I know the guy’s a dick, but that is his son and…” her voice cracks with emotion, and she takes a deep, quivering breath. “....and how sad is it that the old man probably won’t even care? That he’ll probably say some shit like ‘call back when he’s dead’. Or ‘don’t expect me to show up at his funeral’. Because that fucker would; say those things. And I couldn’t handle that; hearing those things about my husband.”

“I’ll do it for you. Make a list; names and numbers. I’ll call whoever you want me to, okay?”

She nods. “Okay.”

“You know what I think would really be good for you right now? Something to eat. When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t. Some time yesterday. I was too nervous this morning and then things went to shit and I ended up here.”

“You have to take care of yourself, Esme. He’d want everyone to make sure of that; that you’re taken care of. Especially now.”

Her eyes narrow. “Yaz told you, didn’t he.”

“He did.”

“We weren’t going to say anything until we got home. Until I saw my doctor and had an ultrasound and found out how far along I am. And now? Now I don’t even know when THAT’S going to happen. When I will get home and have any of that done.”

“Anil knows people. He’ll find someone here that will look after you. That would be good, right? Get some peace of mind? Make sure everything’s okay?”

“I would definitely take some worry off me, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll make it happen. For now, let’s get you something to eat and some fresh air. A little sunshine would do you some good.”

“I could use a little of that right about now.”

“Come here,” Nik draws her into her arms, tucking her tightly against her.

Esme hesitates; years of hurt and torment and anger holding her back. The woman attempting to connect with her...trying to so desperately to make amends...had caused so much damage. Or at least tried to. The attempts -albeit failed- at becoming the ‘other woman’ and destroying a marriage and a family, the lies she told and the times she’d tried to convince Tyler that Millie wasn’t his and that getting married would be ‘the biggest mistake you ever made’. It is still painful; that kind of betrayal. And she doesn’t know if it will ever heal; if she’ll ever trust Nik again or even see her as a friend. But right now she IS trying; it’s genuine and heartfelt and there was remorse and guilt in her eyes. And that hug feels so good; the warmth coming off of Nik’s body, the strength and conviction in those arms, the hand that runs up and down her hair. It’s real; the first real embrace and source of comfort that she’s had all day. And she finally gives into it; both arms circling Nik’s waist and her forehead coming to rest against Nik’s shoulder.

Still the tears don’t come.

****

The main nurse in charge of his care is an older woman; born, raised, and educated in Minnesota. Julie. “But you can call me, Jules”. Shortly after graduation from nursing school, fate...and love...had intervened; sending her on a humanitarian trip into the slums of Dhaka where she met a local doctor. She never moved back to the States; choosing to reside in Bangladesh; bringing three children into the world -all medical professionals themselves- who in turn have made her a ‘nana’ seven times over. She has that quality; a caring, gentle, and adoring grandmother. A kind, round face and dark, sympathetic eyes; hands that are warm and soft when she shakes yours or touches your shoulder or taps your cheek.

The small talk and the ‘getting to know you’s’ had been a change; her day filled with conversations filled with surgeons and would care specialists and a ‘slightly concerned’ specialist who was troubled by ‘irregular eye movements’ during a neurological exam. Nothing but medical jargon she didn’t fully understand and no one seemed interested in explaining; depressing news and worst case scenarios and warnings not to ‘get her hopes up’. Talking with Julie had been an escape. Being able to share her own story about meeting the love of her life and never going home again. Showing the nurse pictures of her children; bragging about how beautiful and smart they are; how blessed they are to have such an amazing, hands on father who they adored. And vice versa.

But it hadn’t taken long for reality to set in. And despite the comforting hand -and surprisingly strong- hand resting on her shoulder, she hadn’t been able to handle it. The hours of preparing herself for the moment had done nothing in the end; spending less than half a minute at his bedside before she had to flee. She had imagined what he would look like; the shape he’d be in. Putting together all the information she’d been given from the doctors and creating a vivid image in her mind. Her brain had been overly optimistic; painting a brighter and more positive image than what she’d come face to face with. She hadn’t prepared for THAT. The bruising and swelling; the rows of stitches above his right eye, across the top of his forehead, and under his right eye. That one is the worst; stretching all the way from the middle of the orbital bone to his temple. And she certainly hadn’t been ready to see the central line -for fluids and medications- placed in his chest. Or the severity of the cage like apparatus encasing his thigh.

Now she stands in the room’s private bathroom. Hunkered over the sink with her palms against the ledge; struggling not to vomit. It’s all too much; the reality of the situation. The direness of his condition hitting with such force that she feels as if she can’t breathe. Her lungs tightening and her stomach clenching; the ache in her chest -her heart- unbearable. And she feels ashamed. That seeing him that way affected her so badly. That the love of her life...the man she’d fallen so easily for seven years ago- is at his weakness and more vulnerable and he can’t even count on her to keep her shit together.

A soft knock comes to the door, and before she can respond, the nurse steps inside. A sympathetic smile curving her lips; a tiny plastic cup of meds in one hand, a styrofoam one filled with ice water in the other.

“Are you okay?” Julie asks.

“No,” Esme admits. “I am so far from okay.”

“Here,” the nurse offers the med. “For your stomach. The nausea.”

“Is it safe?”

Julie arches an eyebrow.

“Baby safe,” she clarifies. “I need it to be safe. I can’t take anything that isn’t. I can’t take any chances. Especially with this one.”

“You’re…”

“We just found out. Two weeks ago. I don’t even know how far along I am. I just know I can’t take any chances. We lost one. A few years ago. I need this baby to be okay. HE needs it to be okay. He wouldn’t be able to take it if something happened. He wouldn’t be able to handle another loss.”

“It’s safe,” Julie assures her, and Esme gives a grateful, appreciative smile and takes the meds offered; dumping them into her mouth and washing them down with a sip of water.

“I hate myself,” she says. “For having to leave like that. For having that reaction to him. Of all people. He’s my husband. The father of my children. And that’s how I react? What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing. This is a lot for anyone to go through. It's hard seeing the people we love when they’re sick or injured. And seeing them at THAT extent? It’s a shock; no matter how much we try to prepare ourselves.”

“I’ve seen him in bad shape. Seven years ago. I held him when he was dying; I stuck my fingers in his neck to try and keep him alive. But he didn’t look like that. He was in really rough shape but he wasn’t THAT bad. God, I sound horrible. I’m a piece of shit for a wife. I’m sorry. Language.”

“Oh honey, I’ve heard AND said worse. You don’t have to hold your tongue around me. And it’s him that you’re having trouble seeing. It’s the situation. The loss of control. Feeling helpless because you can’t fix things. Fix HIM. That’s what you can’t handle.”

Esme nods in agreement. “It scares me. Seeing him like that. Because he’s usually the one that takes care of everyone else. He’s the strong one. The one that holds everything together when it feels like it’s falling apart. I mean, I had a labour so fast, that I had to give birth in my own home. He delivered his son. And he was so calm and so strong and to see him like this? It’s hard. Accepting it. Seeing what was done to him. And I’m angry. I am so fucking angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I just thought I could handle it. And now I can’t. I’m terrified. Of seeing him like and not knowing if he’ll make it. Do you know if he will? Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s doing very well so far.”

“I need someone to tell me he’s going to be okay. That he’s going to get past this. Because all I’ve heard so far is negative and I need something possible to hold onto. To keep me going. Because I’m scared and I’m lost and I don’t know how to help him. And I’ve always been able to help him.”

“All you can do is be with him. Hold his hand. Talk to him. Tell him you love him.”

“I remember seven years ago, when he came out of the coma, he could recite things I said to him while he was out. Almost word for word. Do you think it will be the same this time?”

“He can hear you. And he’s reacting to voices and touch. It’s just very heavy sedation; you might not get a response every time. But he CAN hear you. His brain is working. We’ve seen signs of that already. Let that be the positive you carry. That he can hear you.”

“I don’t want him to hear me get upset. I don’t want to cry around him. Because he worries about me. All the time. And if he knows I’m having a hard time, it will stress him out. And he doesn’t need to be stressed. I need a few more minutes to get myself together.”

“Take your time, love. I’m going to do rounds; I’ll come back and check on you both. Hang in there,” she gently pats Esme on the cheeks. “You’re a lot stronger than you think.”

****

“Tyler?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she stands at the side of his bed. A hand tightly gripping one of his, the other resting on the top of his head; thumb repeatedly brushing across his forehead.

She refuses to let the tears fall, or let fear and sadness creep into her voice. Instead she presses soft, feathery kisses across his brow and down the bridge of his nose; each eye and cheek, then his lips.

“I know you can hear me. Remember last time? When you woke up you were able to tell me a lot of things that I said to you. Even when I called you a massive dick for stressing me out. And I know that right this second that brain of yours? It’s coming up with some rude comment about YOUR dick. Do I know you or what? I know you better than you know yourself half the time. Maybe even more than half. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Esme gently combs her fingers through his hair and places a kiss on his forehead.

“You’re doing so well,” she praises. “Better than anyone thought you would. No breathing tube this time. You’re handling that all on your own. And you’re so strong and so brave and if anyone can get through this, it’s you. If you can survive seven years ago, you can survive this, right? I know you can. And I’m not going to let any asshole doctor tell me otherwise. They don’t know you. Not like I do. They don’t know how hard you’ll fight to get back to your family. But I do.”

She hooks a foot around the leg of a nearby chair and pulls it to the side of the bed; pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before gathering the sides of the hoodie -HIS hoodie- around her body and sitting down.

“This is a lot nicer than the last ICU we were in,” she says, reaching through the safety railing and taking one of his hands in both of hers. “There’s a shower room and a kitchen for families and a TV room they can sit in when they need a bit of a break. Your nurse is nice. But she’s old enough to be your mother, so don’t get any funny ideas or your hopes up about sponge baths. And your room is pretty big; the little out bed thing is actually a small couch. Quite a step up from the chair thing I had to sleep in last time. And remember your least favorite thing from seven years ago? Having to have a catheter? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there was no other choice. At least you got to miss the part where they put it in.. Always a bright side, right? You always say that. About everything. You always make sure I know what the bright side of every shitty situation is. And you’re always right, too. They always do turn out to be the bright sides. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. That you’re always right. Because of all the things I’m saying, that will be the one you remember. And you will hold that over my head for the next fifty years. That’s now much longer you’re stuck with me for. Sorry if you thought you were bailing on me. You’ve got a lot more years left of putting up with my shit.”

She releases his hand, gently turning it over and grazing her nails along his fingers and palm. Smiling when the heart rate monitor beeps, recording a slight change. “I forgot; that’s the ticklish hand. Weird how all the boys are the same; left hand and the inner thighs. I sent them back; to Australia. The kids. I haven’t told them anything yet. To be honest, I don’t know what to say. But I do know that you’d tell me to get them out of Mumbai and send them home. So that’s what I did. Kyle and Ovi went with them and Anil and Nik will stay with them for a bit; just to make sure trouble didn’t follow. And speaking of Anil and Nik, do I ever have some gossip to tell you. But I’ll make you wait until you wake up for that. It should be a few days; until you come out of it completely.”

She traces slow, soft circular patterns on his palm and the inside of his wrist. “I want you to know that we’re okay. The kids and I. No one showed to hurt me OR them. And I don’t know exactly what happened or what went wrong, or what you remember, but you got Neysa and Aarev out and they’re on their way home. They’re going to be okay. It’ll take a while; to get over everything. But they’ll be fine. Thanks to you. And I’m so proud of you, Tyler,” her voice cracks with emotion. “I’m always proud of you. I know I bitch about the job a lot; how you’re away from home so much. But it’s just because I worry about you. It doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you, though. And speaking of being proud…you being the proud daddy to be and all...Anil’s going to set up an appointment for me. So we can find out how far along I am. And get an ultrasound done. That way you’ll have your very first picture to put on the fridge.”

She draws his hand through the railing, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist before carefully setting his arm down on the mattress and standing up. “I need you to listen to me Tyler James. And you know it’s serious when I use BOTH your names.” She rests a hand on his stomach, the other brushing his bangs off his forehead and then settling on the top of his head. “I need you to know that I’m okay. Because I know right now…even with everything that’s going on with you...that you’re worried about me. And you don’t have to be. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’ve got people watching out for me and taking care of me. So you don’t need to worry about any of that, okay? Because you always put me first no matter what you’re going through. Right now, I need you to put yourself first. For once. I really need you to do that, alright? I promise I’m fine. And the baby’s fine and the kids are fine. We’re all fine. But we need YOU to be fine, too. So you have to put yourself first for a change. I know that’s hard for you. But it’s what I need you to do. It’s important you do it. And I love you…” she presses a kiss to his lips and then rests her forehead against his. “...I love you so much. And I’ll be here when you wake up. I told you I’d get to you. Somehow. It’s what we do, right? Bust our asses to take care of each other.”

She nuzzles the tip of her nose against the bridge of his.

“I love you,” she says again. “You need to rest, okay? You’re finally pain free. At least for now. You’re finally at peace.”

She kisses him a final time, then sits back down in the chair and tucks her knees into her chest. Drawing the hoodie around her body once more as she settles in for a long night.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction #Extraction 2020 #Best Part of Me

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delia-pavorum · 5 years

Text

𝑹𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

��𝒌𝒂 canonverse hair-braiding

[originally posted on Twitter: here.]

###

She is awake before he is. She has remained awake while he sleeps. She always does.

It used to be he who could not find solace in rest.

He who was plagued by nightmares.

These days, however, he finds himself hardly able to keep his eyes open; as though all the years of sleepless nights have finally caught up to him.

By the time the night cycle arrives, it’s all he can do to stay upright, waiting for the moment when he can finally retire to bed.

‪It helps, he knows, that he never goes alone. ‬

It feels like an unspoken pact; a treaty formed by knowing glances. Never far apart from one another, they always seem to sense when the other is ready to depart from a room. To take their leave of the company they hold and go somewhere else, together

It is a fragile peace, his presence among them, but a peace nonetheless. Still, at times it feels oppressive - the noise, the expectations, the camaraderie.

He knows she feels the same.

So when they remove themselves from the crowd, when they leave a place and are alone walking down a hall, their gaits syncing, their bodies swaying closer to one another, when their hands find each other and link together, he gradually feels the tightness leave his chest.

They go back to their shared quarters and begin a nighttime routine. He revels in the monotony - bumping elbows over the sonic sink in the fresher. Smirks and shy glances darted over toothbrushes. Sometimes they would kiss and he would taste the mint on her breath.

Sometimes they would undress, hands stroking and bodies pressed together, and he would taste more and everywhere.

‪And then they would lie together in the sleeper, bodies skimming one another and also the edges on either side - luxuries were few within the confines of the Resistance - and they would fall deeply into a dreamless slumber, breathing evenly and peacefully, at rest.

It takes him weeks to realize that he has been the only one sleeping deeply.

And dreamlessly.

And peacefully.

In hindsight, the signs had been there.

She would shift restlessly in his embrace right when he was on the cusp of semi-consciousness. He would loosen the arm that was slung over her, knowing how she hated to be confined.

Then he would allow himself to be taken back into sleep, beyond awareness, assuming that she was still right there, inches away.

The odd time, he would awaken suddenly. Feel the cold side of the bed. Search for her within the bond and encounter the shuttered window of her mind.

He would panic, breath caught in his throat as he sat up too fast.

It would take less than seconds for her to open to him again, warmth flooding through him - sunlight even in a dark room - and her whispered words:

"Shh, shh. I'm still here."

A reassurance and an excuse for her absence would lull him back to peacefulness, back to sated rest.

"Lie with me?" he would murmur. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

"Alright," she would concede, a smile in her voice. 𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺.

And before he'd know it, it would be morning.

That particular night - perhaps because his body was familiar now with her comings and goings, his mind subconsciously having adapted to the fact that she never stayed for long - he awakens quietly, a bit disoriented and sensing her absence, but not panicked. ‪Merely wondering where she’d gone to now. ‬

He barely shifts, using only his eyes to track through the room. There was a small porthole window, moonlight or starlight or the light of a nearby planetary body bathing the room in an ethereal glow.‬

She sits directly in its wake, knees to her chin, arms crossed over her legs, holding herself together tightly. (Tighter than she ever lets him hold her.) Her face glitters in the pale light.

She is crying.

Silent tears track down her cheeks. Her body barely shudders as they course from her eyelids to the crooks of her elbows, bent over her legs like binders.

Stunned, he reaches out to her with the Force, probing lightly with his thoughts.

He finds himself encountering a gossamer resistance; not enough of a barricade to sound off any alarms in his head, but enough to muffle the worst of her emotions, her thoughts.

Her fears.

“Rey?”

His voice, quiet as it was, still resonates like a blaster shot in the silent room. She visibly startles, her arms unbuckling as her knees drop.

He is already up and out of the sleeper, crouching on the floor at her feet.

“Nothing,” she responds to his unspoken question. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He looks her up and down, at a loss.

“This is what you’ve been doing,” he realizes aloud, the words surprising him even as he speaks them. “Every night.”

“I—“ She begins to deny it, then her face crumples as she shrugs dejectedly.

“It’s too hard,” she says finally.

“What?” His voice drops an octave, a hushed timbre in the quiet room. “What is?” Lifting his hand, he strokes her wet cheek with his thumb.

“Every time I close my eyes,” she whispers back, “I see you—in the moments before... and after—“

Her voice cracks and her glittering eyes meet his, helpless and tearful.

He knows what she is saying without her having to say it.

Knows that she continues to relive the final moments of the last battle they fought together.

For him, at the time, it had been a catharsis.

The emotional weight of all he had wrought against those he’d loved - lifted. Absolved, in a way.

He'd been prepared to go. ‪She, however, hadn’t been prepared to let him. ‬

It had taken enough out of her - too much - but he is here now because of it. And so is she.

He’d thought it was over; the battle won. A new beginning.

Evidently, he’d been wrong.

He draws her close, hand cupping the back of her head, fingers unconsciously twining in her hair. She brings her head to his shoulder and lets loose a choked sob and then another.

He soothes her as best he knows how, the words clunky and awkward-sounding to his own ears.

Eventually, her sniffles and shudders subside. She has brought her hands up to his hair, her fingers curling in the loose tendrils at the nape of his neck.

“What do you need?” he asks. “What can I do?”

She is silent for a long while.

Eventually, she speaks: “I can’t sleep without dreaming. Without reliving it.” She falters, swallowing hard. “I need to know...” She pauses again, lips trembling.

He grazes her cheek with the tips of his fingers, tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, while he waits for her to speak. His actions are gentle; understanding. Words that would not have suited him up until recently.

But now, for her, he can be anything.

She puffs out a breath. “I need to know you’re there, even when I’m sleeping. But I can’t—“ She shakes her head.

A feeling comes over him. It’s suffocating, almost claustrophobic, causing his heart to pump faster. He looks at her, alarmed.

She is returning his look, though hers is chagrined. He realizes what he is seeing; what she is showing him.

Without words, she is conveying to him how it feels to be enclosed in his arms at night.

For him it’s a comfort. For her, after so many years of being alone, of only having herself, it feels stifling, overwhelming.

She needs time. He can do that.

Still, he implicitly understands, she wants to know that he’s there. Needs to feel him near.

He thinks of her hands, constantly moving, fixing, toying.

Strong, the fingers lithe with callused tips, nails blunted at the top.

They rarely cease to fiddle during the day.

An idea forms in his mind. He clears his throat.

“My mother, her home country,” he begins.

“Alderaan?” she interjects. She knows; of course she would.

He nods once in confirmation. “Traditionally, it was a culture that placed emphasis on...certain artistic traditions.”

She looks at him quizzically.

“Hair braiding,” he explains. “There were...reasons for each knot, each coil. An explanation for every—“ He gestures vaguely, making a haphazard circle around his head. “And all would have been passed on from mother to daughter.”

He pauses thoughtfully, weighing his next words.

(The familiar pang of bitterness isn’t going to accompany them this time, he realizes. He finds that interesting.)

“Or,” he forges on, “from a mother to a son, desperate for any excuse for her time and her attention.”

“She taught you how to braid her hair?” Rey breathes incredulously. “In those beautiful—“ Her gesture mirrors the one he'd just made, a quick circle around her head.

He huffs out something resembling a laugh. “Well, sort of. I mostly just held certain sections in place.”

He shakes his head, again surprised at the pang of bittersweet fondness he feels at the memory.

“But she did teach me a bit,” he admits quietly, after a beat. “She taught me what she could.”

He isn’t sure if he’s still even talking about braids anymore as he feels a sharpness in his chest; grief anew. A wound that hasn’t healed.

She places her hand over the spot where the pain is the worst; she knows.

“I could teach you,” he continues, persevering now with his purpose at hand. (If the words sound familiar to both of them, neither let on.) “I could teach you the ways to do it. The—the basic steps. Do it while we lie here. Before we sleep.”

Her eyes slowly inch up to meet his, realization dawning.

To occupy herself with braiding, to keep her hands busy, it would help focus her mind on a task.

It showed how he inherently understood her nature. How the need to be engaged, to be active, was all she knew.

‪Giving her something to 𝘥𝘰. It was the most effective - the kindest - solution. ‬

“Yes,” she blurts out, “yes, I’d like that.”

She tentatively raises her hand to his hair, pushing the onyx strands back from his face. He wears it brushed back more often than not these days, as though he no longer requires any type of mask. As though he has nothing to hide.

Her fingers sift through the locks, her other hand coming up, twisting two pieces together, then allowing them to fall with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"We're a long way from Alderaan," she murmurs, and he feels the heft of those words, their significance, down to his bones.

"It's alright," he soothes. He rises from his crouched position, knees popping, and he emits a mild groan.

Her grin feels truer now; she dimples and he experiences its warmth.

"Getting old, huh?" she jibes as she accepts his hand, standing up as well.

"Thanks to you," he returns quietly, leading her back to the bed.

Her smiles softens into something poignant and she nods.

They lie down together, him shifting slightly lower than her, so her head is resting on their pillow and his lays close to her solar plexus.

"Ready?" he says, throwing the blanket over her legs as he speaks.

She shifts her fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp, rubbing the silky strands.

"Ready," she confirms, the word cracking on a large yawn.

He quietly instructs her as best he can, as best he remembers, and truly the technique doesn't even matter as much as the soft ebb and flow of her hands in his hair, working in rhythmic tugs, pulling and releasing.

The motions lull them both into a quiet, restful peace.

She perserveres, even as she emits several more lusty yawns. He feels her tying the ends with something and looks up to see her own hair has been taken down, falling loosely around her shoulders. The silvery light of the moon frames her head in an opaline halo as she works.

He feels gratitude as he's never known it before, strong enough to spear his heart, split him in two.

He feels the spirit of his mother, of the Force, of all that which has brought them to this moment, and he is grateful for it all.

She works on his hair, one determined tug after another, until finally her hands slow and then, eventually, stop.

He hears her breathing, evenly and deeply. Her body is soft and pliant; her mind a diaphanous cloud, prismatic yet unproblematic.

Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, she rests - peacefully, dreamlessly, deeply.

He can fall asleep beside her now, bodies skimming one another and the edges of the sleeper, knowing she is no longer troubled.

He is grateful for that, too.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #kylo ren #rey #ben solo #alderaan #alderaanian customs #canonverse #hair braiding #post tros #tros speculation #ep ix speculation #post ep ix

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bgn846 · 4 years

Text

Worthy Chapter 11: New Beginnings FFXV A/B/O Promnis

<Previous Chapter 10

“What should I wear?” Prompto asked with worry as he sat precariously balanced on the edge of his bed.

“Dude, what you normally wear,” Noct answered with a snort. “It’s not like you should wear a suit or anything. You’re going on a picnic in the gardens.”

“I know, but what if he doesn’t think I look good?”

Noct pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seriously, I thought the whole purpose of you suggesting a picnic was because it was laid back!“

“Yeah but –” Prompto stalled out and squinted at Noct. “Ya know, you look like Ignis when you do that.”

“He’s been my advisor for like five hundred years, man. Of course, I copy his mannerisms.” Noct huffed. “You should see me in a council meeting. If I get mad, I look like a mini Iggy.”

Prompto burst out laughing at the image and flopped backwards on the bed. “Aw, buddy, I’m so screwed,” he announced nervously once his fit of giggles had died down.

“Why?!” Noct exclaimed. “He clearly likes you. What’s the issue?”

“That is the issue! He likes me and what if – what if I’m not good enough for him,” Prompto stammered.

Noct raised his hands dramatically. “He bent several international diplomacy rules, sent you a glaive as a personal escort, left Lucis with intent to maim and destroy, and rescued you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“No, I do! We didn’t know each other hardly at all, and we still don’t. It’s only been two weeks since we escaped from snaky,” Prompto wailed. “What if he gets to know me and then realizes I’m not worth the trouble.”

“If you don’t pick something to wear in the next minute, I’m calling Ignis for help.”

Prompto squealed in terror and leapt off his bed. Leave it to Noct to find the perfect motivation. He didn’t have many articles of clothing to dig through, so he grabbed what caught his eye first. A nice pair of jeans and a light weight sweater completed his look. “There, how’s this?” he asked with wide eyes.

“Perfect – and Prompto?” Noct ventured as he waited for the omega’s full attention. “You’re worth it. Don’t ever think differently.”

“You are not going back to change shirts again , are you?” Gladio asked in disbelief.

“This one has a wrinkle,” Ignis offered as he breezed past his friend and back into his closet.

“You are going to run out of shirts if you keep this up,” the older alpha grumbled.

“I heard that!”

“It’s a picnic, Iggy. You can handle a simple picnic right?”

“Of course I can! I merely want the whole experience to be perfect for Prompto.”

“And a wrinkle in your shirt prevents this date from being perfect?”

“Astrals! Gladio dear six, this is a date isn’t it?” Ignis breathed as he walked out of the closet donning shirt number five.

“What did you think it was?”

“A picnic. A neutral gathering where we might get to know more about each other!” Ignis enthused as he started pacing. “I have no idea if he wants to be with me or not. I don’t want him to feel obligated, since I helped him escape Niflheim.”

“Calm down, there. Stop overthinking things. Go to this neutral gathering, as you call it, and have fun,” Gladio offered with a smile.

“That’s far too easy, Gladio.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be easy like that. Both parties eat, talk, maybe kiss.”

Gasping in realization, Ignis turned to Gladio. “Don’t let me forget to brush my teeth again.”

The shield couldn’t help but laugh. “You could always bring a bottle of mouthwash with you.”

“Oh, stop being silly. They make pocket packs of breath strips for that sort of thing.” Ignis then began digging through his bedside table looking for said product.

Gladio wasn’t able to stop Ignis from changing his shirt a sixth time. He did manage to talk him out of attempting to bake a last minute cake. Ignis was the type of person that needed something to occupy his mind if he was nervous.

The appointed time arrived, and Gladio stood up to give his friend a hug. “You’ll do great. Go have fun, and make your date laugh.”

Ignis groaned as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know if I’m able to be funny on command.”

“It’ll be fine. Just tell blondie funny Noct stories. That always works when I’m trying to get Sana to laugh.”

“Is she still looking forward to moving here?” Ignis asked curiously.

“Yeah, she can’t wait. She’s looking forward to having an official pack.”

“I’m hoping she and Prompto are able to make a connection. They are both omega’s after all.”

“She’s mentioned the same thing, so we will have to wait and see how it plays out. Now stop getting distracted, and go pick up your omega!” Gladio announced as he shoved Ignis towards the door. “He’ll think you don’t like him if you’re late.”

The look of horror on Ignis face was comical. He barely paused to lock his front door before sprinting down the corridor. “I’ll call you later,” he shouted as he disappeared into the stairwell.

Gladio shook his head in amusement. It was fun to see Ignis so excited by something. Taking out his phone, he texted Noct to see what takeout he wanted for their secret dinner date. He knew he’d get the other half of the story from the prince. There was no way Prompto wasn’t a nervous mess like Ignis. It just wasn’t possible!

�� Adopting a normal pace once he determined he wouldn’t be late, Ignis tried not to worry about his date. It had been a couple of weeks since the dramatic rescue. Prompto had taken a few days to recover from the ordeal. Ignis knew that mentally Prompto would need time, but at least physically he was on the mend.

Soliamare and Prompto had agreed on which guest suite they liked and had moved in a week ago. The queen had been adjusting quite well, all things considered. Ardyn seemed to have taken a shine to the demure beta. Anytime Ignis asked what he was up to, the reply involved plans with Soliamare. Ignis warned him not to start anything he didn’t have intentions of seeing through. Ardyn had rolled his eyes at the advisor and assured him he meant well. Apparently the queen was happy to simply be in his company.

A soft grunt stopped his daydreaming, and Ignis turned around to seek out the source of the noise. Nothing stood out as being odd, but he stayed still and continued to look around. It took a second to realize that the giant potted plant nearby had a person hiding behind it. Not wasting any time, Ignis summoned his daggers and approached cautiously.

A familiar voice called out to him urgently, “Ignis, it’s me.”

Frowning, Ignis moved closer to get a better look. He was so confused; Nyx Ulric was standing before him holding a leaf in front of his face. “What are you doing?” he asked, dismissing his weapons.

“Hiding from Aranea!” he huffed. “Quiet, she’ll hear us talking and find me.”

“Nyx, she will most likely be able to locate you due to your scent.”

The beta looked stunned and moved to lean out and check the corridor. “Alpha’s can smell things like that, huh?”

“Yes, I’m afraid we can,” Ignis offered as he inhaled deeply. “She’s not harassing you, is she?” he asked carefully. Aranea’s scent was also mixed with Nyx’s. She’d clearly attempted to mark him recently. “If she is behaving in an uncouth manner, we need to report this to Cor.”

“No! It’s not like that, Ignis,” Nyx frantically corrected. “She’s just really – intense.”

Unable to process what that meant, Ignis blinked slowly at the glaive. “Do you need my assistance with anything at this time? Am I alright to leave you alone with your plant?”

Nyx nodded and slipped back into his original position. Left to continue on his way, Ignis could only wonder what the rest of the day would hold for Nyx. Aranea was a very forward alpha, and she’d made it obvious she wanted to be with the beta. It seemed Nyx may be having second thoughts.

Prompto’s suite soon appeared, and Ignis stopped thinking about his odd encounter. Taking a deep breath, he approached the door and knocked. The sounds of muffled voices and something falling were the only indication of life. The door remained closed and unanswered as Ignis stood and began to worry. Perhaps agreeing to go out in public with Prompto was too much for the omega. They’d been able to hang out but always with other people Prompto trusted nearby.

Ignis had been very careful to ensure Prompto wouldn’t feel trapped or unsafe. This time it was different. Prompto would be leaving the suite alone with Ignis. Finally the door unlocked and opened to reveal Noct. “Hey, specs. Sorry, you need to come talk to him.”

Instantly, Ignis’ dreams of a pleasant afternoon in the citadel gardens were dashed. Prompto was too nervous to come out with him. “Very well, I suppose this is to be expected,” he added sadly.

“Huh?” Noct questioned. “Ignis, he thinks his outfit is stupid-looking. You need to talk him out of changing.”

Perking up at hearing he wasn’t being turned down, Ignis followed Noct towards Prompto’s room. The omega shrieked when Noct pushed open the door. Ignis had stayed outside the room. He didn’t want to invade his privacy if he was unwanted.

“Noct! What happened? He didn’t leave, did he?!” Prompto wailed. “I ghost him for two weeks when he first texts me, and now I can’t even answer my front door!”

Ignis couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Prompto was having a panic attack. His breaths were labored, and he’d stopped talking. Noct calling for him confirmed his suspicions. Rushing into the room, Ignis saw Prompto slumped on the floor next to his bed. He was gasping for air and trying to say something to Noct.

“I’m still here. There’s no need to worry,” Ignis offered as he gracefully sank to the floor next to Prompto. Expecting the omega to shy away, Ignis was surprised when the younger man tackled him for a hug.

“Thank the six!” he breathed softly. “I thought I’d screwed this all up again.”

Ignis wrapped his arms around the shaking omega and pulled him close. “No, you’ve not screwed anything up. Not now nor in the past,” he replied. “Relax and focus on breathing.”

Prompto squeezed harder and buried his head in Ignis shoulder. “Thank you.”

Noct, who never liked public displays of affection, took the time to try and ruin the mood. “Specs, his outfit looks fine, right?”

Deciding to ignore the prince’s tactics, Ignis replied, “Prompto looks nice all the time.” The blond in his arms giggled, and his breath tickled Ignis’ collarbone. “Would you still like to go the gardens?”

Prompto nodded but remained silent. Waiting another few minutes for him to fully calm down, Ignis slowly released his grip.

Noct couldn’t help but groan at the display before him. “Are you both done being gross?”

“You don’t like cuddling with Gladio?” Prompto asked with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I like it, but not all the time. When I turn twenty in another month our third pack mate will move in. Gladio will get to smother them with cuddles whenever he wants.”

“Third pack mate?”

“Sana. She’s an omega like you,” Noct supplied with little fanfare.

Ignis thought Prompto’s eyes were going to bulge out of his head at the news. He looked over to Ignis with hope. “Is it true. She’s like me?”

“Yes, we are all hoping you both will get along. Unfortunately, you can’t meet in person until Noct’s party.”

“Right, it’s a secret. I remember Gladio mentioning that.”

Prompto’s face flushed slightly at the memory, and Ignis wondered if he recalled everything he’d said that night.

“Ok, so back to the issue at hand,” Noct sighed. “You both look fine. Will you go have your picnic, already!”

Looking at the blond, Ignis waited for a reaction. Prompto smiled brightly and stood up, “okay, I’m ready. Sorry for being so silly.”

“You’re not being silly,” Ignis corrected as he waited for Prompto to lead the way. The three of them left the suite a moment later. Noct went the opposite way back to his apartments. “Noct thinks he’s sneaky, but he’s terrible at it,” Ignis conceded once they were out of earshot.

“What’s his deal? He seemed like he was in a hurry,” Prompto asked quietly.

“He’s got a date with Gladio tonight, except he thinks none of us know about it.”

“But he said he didn’t like to cuddle, so why would he go on a date?”

“He enjoys certain things in private. He’s not your typical teenager.”

“Oh,” Prompto mumbled. “Um – so I know we are going on a picnic, but where’s all the stuff?” he asked with a pout. “I didn’t eat, and we don’t even have a blanket.”

“I’ve had the citadel chef prepare us something for the occasion. We simply need to swing by the kitchens and retrieve it,” Ignis replied with a smile. “As far as the blanket, I’ve instructed the groundskeepers to clear us a space and leave one out for us.”

“Wow, that’s awesome,” Prompto enthused. “Noct said you were doing something special.”

“I don’t normally abuse my position as Noct’s advisor, but I figured every once and awhile wouldn’t cause too much harm.”

This statement made Prompto grin widely. “So that means you like me.” The blush that instantly starting creeping up the blond’s neck meant he’d not wanted to blurt that out. “Uh, I guess, or I mean, I hope.”

Ignis raised his hand to stop Prompto from continuing, “I like you a lot.”

The omega released a breath and bumped shoulders with him. “Thank the six. I was so worried. I didn’t want to be bothering you if you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Prompto, you are not bothering me. Please believe me when I say I truly desire to be in your company.”

The poor omega’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head to try and hide it. “Okay,” he offered meekly, “and just so you know, I really like you too.”

Unable to stop the smile spreading across his face, Ignis felt relieved to hear his advances were welcomed. What happened next really melted his heart.

Prompto was fidgeting and cleared his throat. “Ignis, do you think we could hold hands?”

Choosing to extend his arm as an answer, Ignis watched Prompto bounce excitedly before he linked hands. They stayed like that even after Ignis retrieved their picnic basket from the kitchens. The walk to the gardens was quiet; it seemed they both were enjoying the calm of being alone together.

Once Prompto could see the blanket that had been left out for them he tugged Ignis along faster. “It was always too cold to have a picnic in Niflheim.”

Ignis thought for a moment. “Does that mean this will be your first one?”

Prompto nodded enthusiastically as he sat down, pulling Ignis with him. “Yeah, so I want it to be amazing.”

Ignis hoped he was able to deliver on Prompto’s request. He didn’t picnic enough to know what was considered amazing. However, the permanent smile on the omega’s face made him think he was doing something right.

Their meal consisted of small sandwiches and other finger foods. Ignis made a mental note to personally thank the chef for a wonderfully prepared meal. It had taken a lot of convincing on Gladio and Noct’s part to allow someone else to cook for them. Gladio had driven the final nail when he mentioned Ignis might not be focused on Prompto if he was busy worrying about the food.

It seemed Gladio had a point, since he could barely dress himself for this date, let alone cook. He supposed this was one of the few downfalls of being a perfectionist. Ignis hoped their date would go well, and he would be able to showcase his cooking skills at a later time. Things were going smoothly, and Prompto was relaxing as the afternoon progressed.

The location Ignis had selected in the gardens was shaded and on a slight hill. They had a view of the entire garden but the tree they were under offered privacy. This was important; Ignis didn’t want the omega to be nervous. He still wasn’t sure how Prompto felt about other alphas.

Ignis didn’t have time to dwell on the topic when Prompto gasped suddenly. Following the blonds line of sight revealed a tiny animal. One of the resident garden cats was trotting over.

“Does it bite?” Prompto asked in a hushed tone.

Ignis didn’t really know if the cat would bite. “Perhaps if you let him approach first, it would be best.”

The cat took up residence in Prompto’s lap after a few tentative sniffs. It didn’t take long before animal started purring happily at the attention it was getting. The omega clearly had a deep love for animals. A vision of a shared apartment with Prompto and a cat flooded his senses. The desire to make this young man feel safe and happy was strong.

They spent another hour relaxing and talking about anything that came to mind. Ignis learned Prompto liked photography but never had the nerve to go out alone and take pictures. Vowing to change that circumstance, Ignis listened intently as Prompto told him all about the things he wanted to photograph.

When Prompto was finished, Ignis couldn’t help but say what he’d been thinking the whole time. “I’d be more than happy to take you around if you wish to pursue your photography,” he offered humbly.

“Really?! That’d be so cool. I never left the house much in Niflheim. I didn’t want to get harassed, but if you’re with me, it’ll be different.”

Ignis had to bite his tongue. He desperately wanted to tell Prompto he’d be with him forever if he wished it. The pull the omega had on him was undeniable. Ignis wondered if Prompto felt the same way. Deciding to be brave, he took a steadying breath and worked on how he wanted to phrase his question.

He didn’t get the chance. A noise in a nearby bush caused the cat in Prompto’s lap to perk up in curiosity. A second later it had bolted over to investigate. Prompto seemed both disappointed and fascinated by the current turn of events.

A familiar scent soon wafted over and Ignis rolled his eyes. “Nyx, I told you she will smell you.”

“I know that!” the glaive hissed loudly.

“Who are you hiding from, Nyx?” Prompto asked with worry.

“Forgive me for being blunt, but he’s hiding from Aranea so she won’t bite him.”

Prompto’s eyes went wide. “Wha? I thought you liked her, though,” he retorted, staring at the bush.

Nyx moved slightly so they could see him better. “I do, Prompto, but I’m not used to the attention.”

“Oh, so she is harassing you. I understand that.”

The mood was starting to change, and Ignis racked his brain for what to say that might help the situation. Nyx thankfully beat him to it.

“Hey, no, no. That’s not it at all, Prompto. If she was really harassing me, I would report it to my superior officer, and they would work to make it stop,” Nyx corrected quickly. “When I say I’m not used to the attention, all I means is I’m not sure I’m ready for a mate.”

“Why not? Having a mate sounds really nice,” the blond hummed. “They are always there to support you and give you a hug if you are sad. I think having a mate would be really cool.”

Nyx smiled at the response. “I agree with that, but I’m not sure Aranea has read the same guide book on having a mate.”

Ignis couldn’t help but snicker at the remark. Alphas females were a mixed bag. Sometimes they displayed more beta like traits and other times they were like Aranea. Bold, loud, and fully aware of what they want.

“Well, then tell her what you want,” Prompto added sincerely.

Nyx opened his mouth to reply but stopped. It seemed Prompto’s simple statement had him thinking. After a minute, he found his voice. “I think I might try that. She’s gotta catch me first though.”

As if on cue, a voice rang out from close by. It was Aranea. She was calling for Nyx and using the nickname he obviously hated with a passion. Cor had even started calling him Nyxie for fun.

“Thanks for the advice, Prompto. I’ll catch you guys later.” Nyx huffed as he crouched down and continued to scurry along the wall behind the bush.

Ignis waited to see if Aranea would grace them with her presence. Her commanding figure soon glided into view. She waved and continued on the way Nyx had gone.

“How does she know where he’s going?” Prompto asked softly.

“She’s an alpha; she can smell other people’s scent profiles to track them.”

“Did you do that when you and Ardyn came to rescue me?”

“Ardyn suggested it, and I quite frankly thought he was crazy.” Pausing to remember the incident, Ignis was so grateful he’d been wrong. “However, as you have correctly guessed, I did locate your scent to follow that evening.”

“Alban tried to call me yesterday,” the omega added with a frown. “I got scared and didn’t answer the phone.”

“Did he try and call you back? I can put a stop to that if you don’t want him to contact you.”

Prompto shook his head and smiled. “No, it’s alright. He just left me a message, and he wasn’t angry at all. He wanted to make sure I was okay, and he --.”

Ignis could see Prompto was struggling with the next part of the story. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not that. I didn’t realize me almost dying would make him worry. He never seemed to care before.”

“I believe for the first time he may have been able to understand how you felt. You both were targeted and nearly died. That can change a person.”

Nodding, Prompto sighed heavily. Ignis could tell he was affected by the turn in conversation. He wished it was possible to take away his pain. Prompto needed time, and Ignis hoped the omega would turn to him in the future for support.

“Thank you for helping me start a new life, Ignis. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you didn’t show up in my life.”

“I would like to remind you that us meeting was entirely your doing. So do thank yourself for being brave enough to face the world in search of something better.” That statement finally brought back the bright smile Ignis was getting used to seeing.

“Um, I know it’s a little ways off, but do you want to go to Noct’s birthday gala with me?”

“I would be delighted to go with you. However, I must apologize in advance, since I will be working at the same time,” Ignis lamented.

“Oh, that’s right! You organize the whole party and make sure it’s all running smoothly. I don’t mind so long as I won’t get in your way.”

“I would love to have you with me, and for the brief moments when I must attend to something, I know that Gladio and Noct would keep you company.”

“Oh emm gee, this is the first party I’m actually excited to go to!” Prompto exclaimed.

“I suppose that means a visit to the royal tailor is in order,” Ignis announced calmly.

Prompto grinned and then held out hands as if he’d been struck by an idea. “My mum is gonna flip; she will get to wear a gown. Can she come to the tailor, too?”

Ignis nodded and watched as the omega practically vibrated in place. They had another month before Noct’s twentieth birthday, and Ignis already had ideas for their next date. He’d been a little worried they might not go out again. Prompto asking to be his date at Noct’s party removed any last worries. Ignis was officially courting an omega and loving every minute of it.

>Next Chapter 12

#ffxv #fanfic #promnis #prompto #ignis

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

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Confessions of a Coffee-Eater | 01

Genre: Smut, College/University AU

Pairing: Student!/Poet!Namjoon xStudent!/Poet!

Warnings: Public male masturbation, sub!Namjoon, allusion to smoking and poverty, swearing/cussing

Summary: It is in hard times beautiful things can occur and the addiction of primal instincts be suppressed in their proximity. However, when two souls from different social worlds meet in a poetry class, any former urges gain a new direction.

Some of which are sensual in emotion.

And may not be reciprocated.

Masterlist

Next part

Not everything starts off smoothly, time occupying more of the mind than the designated task or destination. Students tend to deal with this occurrence more often than it would like to be admitted, especially on the first day of the new academic year when everyone has the silent resolution to begin with a clean slate. Withal, there remain some who, nevertheless, manage to sneak into the classroom as the introductions have almost come to an end and thus go from being an absent first to a present last.

Hence is why regardless of the few remaining students introducing themselves all eyes in the vast yet bare space shift to the tall man entering the room in a wake of smoke and cologne. It is not unlikely to think they are as intimidated by the painted canvas on well-defined arms as the girl sitting right next to them after furiously wishing to be left alone, the desire denied as it is the sole empty chair left.

Whatever you do, don’t make eye contact.

Nevertheless, the thought does not mean a glance at the artwork covering alluring honey-toned skin cannot be stolen. And the gained treasure is the sight of an intricate tribal design flowing over from bright turquoise into sleek black on the left arm and a Victorian clockwork overlapping with a nautical map and a compass, the former element stopping at the wrist after peeking out underneath a feather. That is all that can be picked up on from the side.

But almond eyes immediately sneakily take revenge by also looking at a source of interest for it is the natural thing for an individual to estimate the nearest person when being in an alien environment without a point of support consisting of friends. Unfortunately, each of them from private personal circles has chosen a different direction within the study, none of them daring to take on or simply interested in poetry.

‘And who might you be?’ The round of rapid-fire introductions ends at the newcomer, who flinches as if waking up from a dream with the heavily blushing cheeks of a crumpled composure.

Which are mirrored in the flustered expression of an embarrassed heart futilely trying to cover up the chest area more by means of pulling up the slightly see-through white loose top thinly striped with lines of black. Regardless of the attempt, the pastel pink push-up bra decorated with a beautiful flower pattern in onyx remains visible very much so from above and a tad less from the front. Thus, when realizing the uselessness of the endeavour, the worry of coming across as an indecent person increases as now not only the professor is taken into account but the still nameless newcomer as well.

‘Oh, ehm, I’m- I’m Namjoon, an exchange student from Dongguk University.’ Eyebrows rise at the baritone voice trying to speak in a composed manner, miraculously managing to do so to a fair degree though fiddling fingers give away the surprise of suddenly being called to attention. Oddly, a thought pops up which almost encourages hands into action to calm tanned nervous ones but just in time can they be lowered into the lap while watching the speaker politely. ‘As for poetry, I believe it’s an expression of a person’s mind. However, this also means they are puzzles to be solved because a thought is chaotic and can have a double meaning.’

‘Very well. It’s funny you should mention poems being like puzzles. My son is currently in high school, also studying poetry and he and I had a conversation about it recently. He could not for the life of him figure out what any poem meant and was astounded I do this for a living. But, as any fifteen-years-old with a literature professor for a father, he wants to become a game designer.’ Chuckling arises in the classroom at the enthusiastically told analogy and all tenseness disappears thanks to the dry humour of the resident Manchester man. At the same time, eyes which swiftly avoided each other find one another again only to repeat the rapid break of contact, those of the too-exposed girl wavering instantly after strangely wanting to make sure Namjoon is more at ease like the others. Why the deep-voiced man looks back with the intention - if there is any intention at all - to lock gazes instead of, fortunately, accidentally letting focus wander lower to bared skin, shall remain a mystery.

For blushing cheeks to never unravel.

Get yourself together, Y/N. I don’t know him and he’s clearly more interested in my chest than myself. Although... just now he looked at me. And he’s kinda adorable. And handsome. No, no, no! Jesus, what am I thinking?

Professor Brown happily continues, pacing the room. ‘But if we think about encoding and poetry, they are similar on the grounds they are both, indeed, essentially the same in the manner they are carefully composed in order to work.’ Steps halt in the middle of the space, academic sight switching from one face to the next as hands fold behind the back clad in a neat black jacket. ‘There is something I would like to ask you. Does any of you write poetry?’

The majority of the students' palms rise in response, including one of which the arm is decorated as if by a traveller of old and one which finds purpose after being mentally prevented from ridiculously serving as a means of soothing. This risen pair does not go unnoticed by the minds which control them, the air in the narrow space between bodies filled with silent curiosity pertaining to the written work. The possible style, the possible words, the possible message.

The possibility to hear it being spoken.

The possibility to connect.

But neither says anything, focusing intently on the empty pages of the notebooks lying on the elongated table and clumsily fiddling with pens between fingers. Notwithstanding, every move is carefully composed to not make a wrong impression, both parties trying to prove a point which is supposed to be interpreted without any double meanings. Certainly so when rejoining each other’s company at the end of a swift ten-minute-break to allow room for breathing something else other than poetry in four hours dedicated to it.

Nevertheless, it cannot be helped but let shoulders relax when smelling nicotine mixed with sharp cologne and sensing two intricate paintings in contrasting styles settle on the empty chair again. It can even be admitted the presence is liked, certainly when from peripheral vision perceived americano irises follow the movements of the pen noting down a random lyrical thought.

And thighs have to clench together in slight awkwardness when unconsciously sensing them looking away swiftly after likely having been distracted anew by the revelation of the shirt that does not want to stay in place. However, the emotion changes when remarking upon an almost anticipating shiver disturbing the fairly intimidating man’s aura as knees accidentally touch.

Panic.

But something undefinable and incomprehensible forms its undertone.

‘I’m sorry.’ Clenching the jaw, the contact is immediately made undone by crossing legs and focusing on the penning down each poem, any poem that comes to mind.

But nothing appears at hearing the shy stumbling over words, picturing all too well how Namjoon’s face is adorably flushed with timidity. ‘Ah, i- it’s- doesn’t matter.’

Which only worsens the uncomfortableness of a consciousness slowly turning corrupted as the long hours of the seminar pass, wondering what lies at the heart of the cause to behave so jittery and rush out of the door to smoke. Wondering is the wrong choice of words for it are more sensual ungrounded fantasies which rise one by one while listening to the flustered ocean deep voice answering a question here and there.

Fancying how it would sound when being completely controlled by the girl keeping up an innocent façade.

Me.

God-fucking-dammit, focus on class and not your own perverted imaginations. You’re here to learn, not to lose control like this.

This warning spins around a chaotic mind at least every quarter of an hour, swirling among the perversion and bringing common sense back for perhaps a good ten minutes before either Namjoon’s voice is heard or a glance is thrown in the man’s direction. Then the whole circus starts anew without hope of redemption.

Henceforth, it comes as a relief when the class is over at last and everyone packs their things to rush to the nearest bus station to make it home.

The first to disappear are arms made of ink and smoke.

Restraint is one of humankind’s most difficult issues to face on a daily basis, seeking refuge in what brings tranquility to a tempted consciousness. Withal, the nicotine purchased with the little money put aside from working the night shift at a nearby gas station did not help erase the vivid memory of pastel pink embroidered by lace as black as night. If anything, it was all in vain as the confrontation with it happened as soon as walking back into the room to which all of us are confined for four hours once a week.

Igniting a type of hunger which has not been felt towards any other girl in Korea, too busy working the same job as now to help make ends meet and send the little brother with big aspirations to high school because the sibling deserves a proper educational basis as well. Hence is why there was no room for letting attention stray towards anything but the means necessary to help pay for the rent.

Three people could barely manage to bring it up each month. But out here on foreign soil and alone, being kicked out of the rented place nearby the university is not so much a surprise. Fortunately, the boss does not come in until seven in the morning which allows for two hours of sleep before packing up the makeshift bed consisting of a jacket for a mattress and rucksack for a pillow. It is difficult, but hardship is inevitable for those who are seen as pariahs, the people who do not fit the norm in one way or another.

Yet, strangely, Y/N - the name glanced from the improvised name tags the professor asked to be made to make it easier for everyone - was not as tense as the rest of the students. In fact, intrigued is perhaps the best description to give the overall attitude of the girl caught occasionally glancing sideways.

I did fuck up great time, though. Why did I stare at her boobs?

The painful twitch below that had to be awkwardly shielded against all the eyes of the room, certainly the pair of newly met ones on the adjacent chair for they are the cause, makes the memory of flesh resurface as a rapid turn is made towards the abandoned unisex restroom. Swiftly, the lock to the tiny space is turned.

Alone.

God, I really blew my chances with her. I should apologize.

The phantom of touching knees makes lashes flutter shut and teeth bite down on the bottom lip as a hand brushes over tight grey denim.

Obsidian with a pearl undertone.

A cute black bow from which a small diamond dangles between breasts.

‘She’s so pretty.’ A squeeze sends the mind reeling further away from sanity, recalling the warm scent reminiscent of the autumn which hangs in the air. Wild berries, dark plum and bergamot.

Her.

‘I could be so good to you. For you.’ Tanned fingers barely possessing a sliver of logic undo the zipper concealing heated hurt, firmly enveloping the source for distraction when slipping past the rim of plain grey boxers. To suppress any sound, their counterparts fold over the mouth on the brink of falling into whimpering submission, trembling like during the seminar in the sudden craving to be touched.

By Y/N.

If only I’d push my thigh a bit more to the side, she’d have caught on. What am I thinking? You’d never do that.

After all, what does have a poor man from Ilsan to offer to a foreign woman who is better off without an outcast glued to her? Moreover, there are financial priorities that have to be taken care of and it is highly improbable there is a willingness to help a wretched soul out of the gutter with money.

She does not know me.

I do not know her.

We are strangers.

But lovers in this fantasized instance, having pretty small hands replace clumsy desperate ones as ears naturally attune to the echo of what little has been heard from a charming voice. Howbeit, it is speaking in a sweetened tone furiously wished to ever be heard truly in private. ‘Namjoonie, why didn’t you tell me you were so needy?’

‘I- I didn’t want t- to- we’ve just met and- and- fuck~’ The curse comes out on a breathless whimper as the chin is flicked up to gain access to the neck, glossy lips kissing the warm skin at random as the thumb circles the heavily leaking part of corrupted fancy.

‘If I’d known you’d be submissive like this, I’d done this to you sooner. You wanted to grab my hand earlier, didn’t you? Place it in your lap to rut against during the rest of the seminar?’ A cheeky grin chisels itself onto the coy mistress’s delighted expression at the unashamed nodding confirming the intention dismissed in the last second after the second smoking break. ‘Make sure I know what I do to you? Who would have thought that such a big buff tattooed boy,’ a whine falls into an appreciative growl when the stimulating palm tightens its hold significantly, the reaction eliciting a chastising click of the tongue, ‘would be such a mess. So cute, all submissive.’

‘O- only for you.’ Hips snap in time with the movements below, aching for release from the building tightening in the lower stomach. Breath comes at a greater difficulty as speech becomes harder to manage as well, feeling too heated to think properly and dwindling further and further into the urge to please the one who ignites a sense of safety. ‘Wan- Wanna be goo- ngh, ah, ehm, b- be good for you.’

‘As you should be as my baby boy.’ Y/N stands on the tippy toes of obsidian and alabaster Puma sneakers, arms suggestively snaking around the back of the neck and nails digging wonderfully into skin when whispering. ‘If you actually do grab my hand next time in class to rut against, I’ll jerk you off under the table but make you cry in overstimulation for being impatient. Am I understood?’

‘Y- Yes, M- Miss.’

‘That’s what I like to hear.’

‘C- Can I- Need to- shit!’ All attention of action shifts wholly to the most sensitive part, erasing every last sliver of sense while barely refraining from coming undone without permission. ‘Plea- Please, ah, ah, Miss, m- may I!’

However, the request remains unfinished as the stimulation becomes too much to handle and the world is sucked away into pleasant nothingness, taking fantasy along and leaving a poor man from Ilsan alone in perverted satisfied warmth.

Together in an imaginary self-made world.

Alone in a bathroom in reality.

Stained in more ways than with solely thick ivory.

Yet having to say sorry.

#hyunglinenetwork #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #BTS #BTS smut #BTS x Reader #Namjoon #RM #Kim Namjoon #Joon #Confessions of a Coffee-Eater

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thaisibir · 4 years

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La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 3/10 - Beginnings (length: ~3k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

When the light faded, Bede cracked his eyes open. Slowly he let go of Celebi’s hands. He noticed the same ring of tiny yellow mushrooms, the same curtain of moss hanging over the big old tree. The only difference was that Opal was nowhere to be seen. It didn’t feel like he had jumped back seventy years, but that was because he hadn’t explored yet.

“Where do I go from here?” Bede asked Celebi. “Lead the way.”

“Bi!” The Pokemon flew ahead of him through the glowing mushrooms, but at a steady, hovering pace so he could keep up with it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bede thought he spotted the pink horned ears of Impidimps as they scuttled through the undergrowth. Could they see him? He hoped not. When he was building his new team, he had refused to catch and raise one of those creepy little buggers.

Celebi led him out to the trail that took them to the Ballonlea Gym. It flashed the same pink neon lights and emblem, but the doors had hinges and the Gym was half the size he expected. Bede guessed that both the regional population and enthusiasm for watching Gym battles had climbed since the 1950s, and at some point, the Gym underwent renovation to increase seating capacity and allow Dynamaxing. And automatic sliding doors hadn’t been invented yet.

“I wonder what it looks like inside?” He asked out loud. He made for the doors, but Celebi halted him mid-stride by tugging on his sleeve. Just then the double doors burst open. They could have swung right into him if Celebi hadn’t stopped him. A tall, dark-haired young woman sprinted past the doors, past Bede, and down the opposite path he had taken to reach the Gym.

“That’s Ms. Opal,” Bede exclaimed.

Celebi took off after her, prompting him to run after them both. He tried to follow them past the cluster of cottages and down the flights of stairs. Ballonlea Town hadn’t changed much in seventy years—just as Bede would expect out of an enchanting little town touched by Fairy type Pokemon. Opal sprinted into Glimwood Tangle without a pause or slowing down. Despite the gloom and patches of thick, tall grass, she clearly knew her way around as she wove back and forth through the labyrinth-like pathways and ducked into the gaps under fallen tree trunks.

“Ms. Opal, wait,” Bede called out. Then he remembered that he had no physical presence here. She wouldn’t be able to see or hear him. Bede had been one of the faster boys in the orphanage, if not the fastest, but he pumped his arms and legs hard in great effort to keep up. “Bloody hell, she’s fast,” he managed to say between pants. Definitely not the slow old woman as he had first known her.

Ahead of him, Celebi made a sound close to a tinkering laugh. Bede thought that the chase would go on and on, and he would lose Opal in the thicket, but she slowed down. He pressed both hands to his knees and tried to catch his breath just behind her. She gently tapped at a nearby mushroom, sending a stronger green glow around them.

“Mother,” Opal said softly. “I knew you would be here.”

Bede peeked around her to spot an older woman curled up by the ledge. He recognized that tangle of long dark hair, and her long nose, though the old photo hid the fact that the woman’s shawl was actually a dull yellow, not gray. It took him a few seconds to realize that Opal’s mother, Ruby, was hugging a Mimikyu to her chest. Her Mimikyu, Bede guessed. The Pokemon extended a shadowy claw through its Pikachu-like cloak to rub soothing strokes on Ruby’s shoulder.

Celebi beckoned at Bede to come closer. He edged farther in, feeling weird about eavesdropping on what was supposed to be a private moment between mother and daughter, but that was what the present-day Opal wanted him to do, anyway.

Opal knelt down to rest a hand on her mother’s back. Her right hand. It was bare, and Bede saw no scar there.

Ruby shuddered and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, dear. You know how I am around unexpected guests.”

Opal’s eyes narrowed and her frown deepened, briefly adding a few more years to her young face. “Those reporters were quite rude, barging into the Gym like that for an unwarranted interview. I’ll place more security around the Gym to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Ruby made a small, wan smile. “You’ve become such a mature and responsible young woman, despite everything I’ve done.” She shook her head. “No, because of everything I’ve done. Look at me, Opal. I can’t even handle being around a couple of news reporters without suffering a panic attack. You’ve had to keep the Gym running while I would be away trying to pull myself together. I’m sorry to put that burden on you, dear.”

Opal shook her head. “You’ve trained me for this, Mother. I’m happy to do my duty.”

“Speaking of duty, I think that my time as Gym Leader is over.” Ruby had been stroking the top of Mimikyu’s head, and she lowered her hand to rest it on top of her daughter’s. “I apologize for the lack of ceremony...but Opal, dear, starting today, you will be the next Gym Leader of Ballonlea Town.”

Opal jerked her hand away. “What? Now? But I haven’t-”

“I know, your eighteenth birthday is three months away, and I had planned to hand over the Gym to you then. But in all honesty, I don’t think I can bear another three months. I’m at my limit, Opal. You know as well as I do that I am at odds with civilization. I am quite odd, aren’t I? I won’t be offended if you think so.”

Opal frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling more connected with Pokemon than with people.”

“But feeling so connected with them that I want to cut off people forever?”

Opal stared at her with silent, wide-eyed shock.

Ruby closed her eyes, and Bede saw how the dark bruised look of them contrasted with the paleness of her face. “Yes, I’ve thought about it for years. I grow tired of human chatter and rabble. I can’t stand the roaring and cheering in the Gym stadium. I get this terrible ringing in my ears. It drives me mad. Every day I feel the wilderness and its wild Pokemon calling to me, drawing me away from society, promising a cure. Only in that quietness and seclusion can I find peace, and my ears don’t ring anymore.” Ruby opened her eyes to return Opal’s pitying gaze. “I’ve kept my post as Gym Leader for your sake, so I could teach you what I know, everything I know about Fairy type Pokemon. You may not be eighteen yet, but I believe that you are ready. Consider this an early birthday present from me.”

Opal pursed her lips. “Thank you, Mother,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome, and good-bye, my dear.”

Opal drew back and blinked many times under a scrunched up brow. “Good-bye? You’re leaving today?”

Ruby’s voice was gentle but firm. “This will be my last day among people. No more human contact after today.”

“Even me?”

“Yes, Opal, even you.” Ruby took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. “That is not to say that I don’t love you. Not at all. A parent is not supposed to have favorites, but of all my children, you are my absolute favorite. I’m sure you know that already.”

Opal smiled. “Well, I’m the only one who can understand you.”

Ruby nodded. “You chose to come with me when your father and I got divorced. You chose to leave behind all the riches in Wynwall, your father and your brothers, to train under me and learn the ways of Fairy type Pokemon. That was not an easy choice to make.” She lowered Mimikyu to the ground and rose to her feet, pulling her shawl tighter around herself. “You have been good company, and a good student, but now that I’ve passed on the torch to you, your place is with Ballonlea, while my place is elsewhere. The best option for us both is to part ways.”

“Where will you go, Mother?”

Ruby tilted her head to one side in thought. “Deeper into Glimwood Tangle, or perhaps into the Slumbering Weald. I heard that the locals in the nearby town are forbidden from entering it.” She smiled. “That sounds like an ideal place for someone who doesn’t want to be found. I will live off the salt of the earth, eat berries from trees in the forest, and drink from the rain and the river.”

Ruby’s sincerity behind that declaration made Opal take on the look of a girl half her age, frightened and overwhelmed. “I won’t ever see you again? You’ll be alone to the end of your days?”

Ruby placed a hand over Opal’s chest. “I’ll always be in your heart, if you care to remember me afterwards, and I’ll never be alone. I’ll have Pokemon by my side. I’ve always taken delight in their company, and I’ll continue to do so for the rest of my life.” She pursed her lips to let out a soft whistle, and from the bushes nearby, a Sylveon, a Shiinotic, and a Florges joined Mimikyu around Ruby. Her team of Pokemon, Bede realized. The only ones who would follow their Trainer into a life of untamed isolation.

Ruby pulled her daughter into a hug—or tried to, as if she had never quite grasped the motions. “Good-bye, my dear Opal. May you be brilliant and glorious as the precious stone I named you after.”

Opal returned the hug with arms wrapped tightly around her mother, and Ruby’s eyes widened as she received the entirety of that embrace. Opal pulled away and nodded. “Good-bye, Mother. Safe travels.”

Ruby tightened the shawl around her body once more and stepped away from the paved path, taking nothing with her but the clothes on her back and the Pokemon she had trained. Her Pokemon followed her into the undergrowth.

Thinking of how his own family dropped him off at the orphanage and didn’t look back, Bede wanted to shout after Ruby, “Go back to your daughter. You can’t just leave her like that.”

But he couldn’t make himself heard, so he wondered if Opal would. She didn’t call after her mother. Nor did she break into pursuit like she did before. Instead she stared at her mother’s retreating back, up until the darkness and mist enveloped her. Finally, she turned away and walked back the way she came. Back to the town.

Even while walking, Opal had a long, quick stride that Bede had to put effort in matching. Once at her side, Bede looked up at her to notice with surprise that tears had been welling up in her eyes. A muscle in her jaw twitched from clenched teeth. Suddenly she stopped near a tree stump to lean on it and let out a sob into her sleeve.

Bede stood by awkwardly, biting on his bottom lip and shifting his weight. Opal had just lost her mother suddenly, strangely, and was left with a new burden to carry on her shoulders. She didn’t succumb to that invisible weight, nor did she dwell in that spot. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. After a few moments, Opal gathered herself to a stern-faced composure. She drew in a shaky breath, straightened the black bow on her white blouse, and combed her fingers through short dark hair that had been messy and windswept from running. She carried on and wore that stern mask into town. Reporters in coats and fedoras streamed out of the Gym carrying notepads and those old-timey cameras with the big round flash bulbs. They assaulted her with their inquiring chatter—a rude, jarring contrast from the quiet, private exchange between Ruby and Opal at Glimwood Tangle.

“Miss Opal, might we have a word with you, please?”

“Did you manage to find your mother?”

“Is the Gym Leader available for an interview?”

Opal fixed them with a chilly look that kept them from coming too close to her. “My mother will not be taking any questions. I am Ballonlea’s Gym Leader now.”

The huddle of reporters erupted into a swarm, like a disturbed hive of Combees. Opal kept her chin high and strode past them, refusing to make eye contact and ignoring their flood of questions and exclamations.

Bede followed after her with growing respect. Opal carried on that commanding presence even to her old age. He remembered her rare League Card: a picture of him standing to attention like a soldier at Opal’s side, ready to be taught under her strict regimen.

“Chin up, back straight, shoulders squared, hands to your sides,” she had ordered. “Top form, now. Look like you’re going to take Fairy type Pokemon seriously.”

A tug at his collar made him stop. Bede turned to see Celebi gesturing at him to take both of its hands. Time-traveling again. He supposed he thought that was all to see at this point. But watching Opal’s mother pass on the Gym Leader title didn’t explain why Opal wanted to pass it on to him. Maybe there was more to see. Bede held Celebi’s hands and grimaced as a brilliant light radiated from the Legendary Pokemon.

Bede found himself facing a stage. Spotlights pointed at the stage made the rest of the room dim. He must be inside the Gym, its theatre. Though he had never formally challenged the Gym, as Opal’s protege he had been led (dragged, rather) inside the theatre enough times to know it from front to back. The Gym, like the town outside, hadn’t changed much back then. The stage was made of the same wood and the curtains had the same color.

Next to him, Opal sat alone at a narrow table, with a cup of tea in her left hand and a pen hovering over papers in her right. Celebi had Bede jump a bit forward in time, still in the past. Opal looked a year or two older than the last time Bede saw her. Still quite young to be managing a theatre. She seemed at ease with the role, however, as she presided over stacks of resumes, score sheets, and of course, questionnaires of her own design, and she scrutinized a young man who stepped onto the stage.

Bede frowned at Celebi. “She’s looking for a new Gym Leader already? Didn’t she just get it from her mum?” But no Trainer stepped up to challenge the young man to a battle. Bede realized that this was normal theatre business. Straight-up auditioning for a part in some play.

The man didn’t introduce himself, because Opal already had his resume in front of her, and after clearing his throat, he went straight into singing. Opal closed her eyes and rested the pen on her chin. At first Bede thought she was bored and on the verge of falling asleep. Then he noticed how she angled her head toward the stage, how her brow furrowed a bit in concentration. She was, in fact, listening intently. Bede wasn’t into musical theatre, so he didn’t recognize the lines. He couldn’t tell if the man was doing well or not. Opal kept her expression impassive as she gauged the performance.

She didn’t scribble anything into the score sheet until the man finished. She nodded at him. “Thank you for your time. I will release the results sometime next week.”

He bowed and exited the stage. Bede had noticed disappointment flicker in the young man’s face before he had bowed. That man must’ve been hoping to be told his results right then and there. Opal wrote more comments into the score sheet, then arranged the papers into neater stacks in a way that she would look at them later. As she rose from the table, Bede could hear murmuring and rustling as those behind the scenes shut off the spotlights and pulled the curtains closed. Celebi tugged at Bede’s sleeve, beckoning him to follow Opal out of the theatre. He stumbled after her at the same time a Gym Trainer accompanied her outside.

“How were the performances today, Miss Opal?” The Gym Trainer asked.

Opal propped a hand on her hip and huffed a sigh. “Lackluster, I’m afraid. No one’s up to snuff.”

“Not even alumni from your own school, like that man who last auditioned?”

“A degree from the Hammerlocke Royal Academy of the Arts alone doesn’t make exceptions, nor can it save a subpar performance. ”

At Opal’s condescending remark, the Gym Trainer made a sheepish suggestion: “Perhaps you need to lower your standards, ma’am.”

Opal seemed to balk at that suggestion as she flicked her hand in the air. “I will not settle for anyone less than the very best, who I’ve had no luck finding. Today’s the last day for auditions, but I’m thinking about extending them to the next three days, if that’s possible.”

The Gym Trainer looked down at her clipboard and shook her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re running on a tight schedule. We can’t delay production and rehearsal any longer. You will need to settle on who will play Raoul soon.”

Opal splayed fingers through her short dark hair in response. “At this rate, no one will play the part.” She shook her head. “I’ve been cooped up in the theatre for too long. Perhaps fresh air and a walk will do me a bit of good. I will think more over the candidates we’ve auditioned.”

Apparently the Gym Trainer liked that answer as her face and voice perked up. “Very good, Miss Opal.”

And it was apparent to Bede that Opal only said that to appease the Gym Trainer, because as the older woman went back inside, Opal let the frustration settle back into her face. She turned away from the Gym and took a trail farther into the forest.

“Ms. Opal always did set unrealistic standards,” Bede remarked with amusement to Celebi. He and the time-traveling Pokemon followed Opal off the trail and into the thicket of glowing mushrooms and old trees. The soft beat of flapping wings made Bede glance up. A Togekiss drifted from above to settle on a sapling next to Opal.

She greeted the Pokemon with a grin and reached out to smooth back its blue and red plumage. “You can sense my frustration from a mile away, can’t you? Did you come to help calm me down?”

The Togekiss, her Togekiss, trilled and rubbed its cheek against her palm.

Opal withdrew her hand to ball it into a fist over her chest. “What am I going to do, Togekiss? The casting process had never been this much of a pain. Then again, I have to find someone for not just any song, but my absolute favorite song in the play. I guess that makes all the difference. Perhaps my search for the perfect match is like trying to find a Legendary Pokemon.” She raised her hands, then let them fall to her sides in resigned helplessness. “I may be running a theatre, and I have the authority to cast whoever I want, but it doesn’t feel like I have control. I don’t control how someone else sings and acts, and if they all come in not singing and acting the way I’d like, then I don’t have a choice at all.” Opal looked like she wanted to swat at the nearest glowing mushroom, but Togekiss cooed and jumped up to gently land on her head. She took a stumbling step forward and laughed, catching Togekiss with her hands.

“You’re not a little Togetic anymore. Off with you, now, before I fall over.”

Togekiss jumped back onto the branch it had been sitting on, and Opal smoothed her hair back into place.

“You know, Togekiss, the only thing I feel that I have true control over is myself.” Opal closed her eyes, as if drinking in the sounds of the forest.

She drew in a deep breath and sang in rich, melodious soprano that startled Bede and sent chills down his back. The most he would hear from the Opal he knew was a low hum here and there, and he had seen her sing in old photos, but he had never heard her sing like this. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. If she had been a talented actress back then, and acting often involved singing and dancing, then she must have been skilled in those areas, too.

Bede wanted to sit there in the forest and listen to her sing forever, but she stopped after five lines. The forest seemed to swallow up her voice. Then, from a distance, came the following few lines in alto.

Opal gasped. “Togekiss, did you hear that?”

Her Pokemon chirped in affirmation. Opal straightened up and looked around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the mystery voice. Whoever was singing fell silent, prompting her to carry on with the duet and sing the next lines.

Bede didn’t have her ear for what kind of singing was good or bad, but it was evident even to him that this mystery voice had her enraptured. She was bent on locating the source of that voice, pushing through the tall grass and sweeping her gaze across the forest like an explorer on a jungle expedition. Togekiss helped her track down the voice as it flew ahead. Bede followed behind her, curious as she was about who could be singing the duet with her.

Opal lurched to a halt, making Bede nearly run into her. He peeked around her to match her wide-eyed surprise.

Huddled against the tree was a man in a tattered coat. His matted brown hair was so thick and unkempt that it hid his lips and nearly hid his dark eyes. A backpack patched with dirt and bulging at the seams sat next to him. Wrapped about his neck like a striped scarf, a Galarian Linoone bared its teeth at Opal. A Mightyena lying down on all fours lifted its downcast gaze at the man’s feet to stare back at her warily.

The surprise on Opal’s face twisted into confusion. “You...were you the one singing with me—“ Her question turned into a cry of alarm as the man collapsed right in front of her.

Linoone and Mightyena growled at Opal, stopping her from running up to him. She raised her hands at them as a disarming gesture.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt him,” she said firmly.

Her Togekiss flew down before Linoone and Mightyena to convey her Trainer’s intentions to them. Only then did the pair of Dark type Pokemon flatten their fur and slink back to let Opal kneel down and gently turn the man over.

“Sir, can you hear me?” She called, and she shook her head in panic when he didn’t respond. Bede heard her mutter, “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.” Then she said, “Togekiss, get help from the clinic.”

Her Pokemon cried out to acknowledge her command and flew out of sight.

Just call for help on the Rotom Phone, Bede thought, but he realized that they hadn’t been invented yet. He knew that there was nothing he could do. Still, he didn’t feel right standing by helplessly as Opal tried to rouse the man.

His eyes fluttered open, making Opal blow out a sigh of relief. “Good, try to stay awake. Don’t worry, sir, I’m getting you help.” She would give him a shake if his eyes were about to close again. “What’s your name? Could you at least tell me that?”

His dried lips quivered. “R-Roger.”

#pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #swsh bede #swsh opal #pokemon bede #pokemon opal #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #bede pokemon #opal pokemon #pokemon la vie en rose

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arohawrites · 4 years

Text

𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰

Gᴇɴʀᴇ﹕ Dᴇᴍᴏɴ AU﹐ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀ Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ﹕ Mᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ﹐ ɢʀɪᴇғ, Lɪɢʜᴛ sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ.

Wᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ﹕ 2𝚔

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟷 || 𝟸 || 𝟹 || 𝟺 || 𝟻 || 𝟼 || Mᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅs ||

The wake is over and the funeral is quickly held. Some of Sanha’s classmates are present and most are his parents’ colleagues. He tried hard to memorize each faces that came to his parents wake so he knew that there are few people whom he didn’t see in the wake.

“I would avenge you no matter what” Sanha mumbled as he offers flowers for both his parents. People are wondering why the only son doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t even look grieving, but they keep it to themselves.

The ceremony ended and people are starting to disperse after saying goodbye to Sanha. One group approached him, the group are not familiar to him.

“We’re in the same team as your parents and Donghyuk” The only woman in the group introduced and Sanha’s attention is quickly piqued.

Sanha observed each person in the group. The woman who approached him looks a bit younger than her mother. Her short hair made her look more sophisticated and her smile is quite intimidating.

“I’m Lee Nari, this kid is Im Eugene-” The kid Nari called quickly protested “-I’m not a kid!” He spoke in English, Sanha already noticed that he has foreign blood.

“Whatever, this is Noh Taemin. He only looked smug but he’s just shy,” Sanha did a small bow for courtesy, “We’re sorry that we didn’t make it through the wake. We still finished some business overseas.” The woman explained.

“It’s okay” Sanha simply answered, his eyes are wandering discreetly. He saw JinJin nearby.

“Here’s my number, call me anytime. I know it’s hard, we also lost good friends. Yuri Unni is like my sister, she helps me in everything. She always talk about you too so I know that you’re a nice child” Nari said, he can also see the pain in everyone’s eyes. It’s either genuine or a very good acting. He reminded himself.

“We’ll be going now. Remember, you’re always welcome in the company.” Eugene said and the whole group bid its farewell.

“They look suspicious… That’s written on your face. You should learn to hide your emotions a bit Sanha” JinJin appeared beside him.

Sanha glared at him, “Give me that flash drive”

“Let me eat first, I’m starving” The demon insisted.

“Sanha” They heard a low voice from behind. The demon sighed, he forgot about the kid’s best friend.

“I’m going now” JinJin patted Sanha’s shoulder, the younger tried hard to hide his repugnance, just for the sake of Minhyuk not asking any questions.

“Sanha, we’re going now. Should we drop you off to your house?” Minhyuk promptly offered after Jinwoo walked away. Minhyuk wanted to stay as long as possible with Sanha, he wanted to help his friend in any way he could do.

“Thank you for the offer Minyuk, I really appreciate it but I wanted to stay here longer,” He lied, he wanted to get away as soon as possible but he can’t be with Minhyuk now that he has a demon to handle, “are you sure? Then should I stay here with you?” Minhyuk insisted.

“No! I mean, you must be tired. You’ve been accompanying me for days, please don’t worry about me” Sanha wished that Minhyuk wasn’t offended. He simply doesn’t want Minhyuk to get involved in the mess he entered.

Minhyuk’s dad approached them and motioned Minhyuk to go with him. He assumes that Sanha just wanted to be alone for the moment.

“Contact me anytime, okay?” was Minhyuk’s last words before leaving Sanha.

Sanha stood there, all alone.

–

“Do you feed on sadness too?” Sanha asked the demon embracing him, people must be wondering why he didn’t shed a tear earlier. He wonders why too.

“I don’t feed on pure sadness. I can’t” JinJin answered after a few moment.

“Then why do I feel so empty? I should be crying right now right? My parents are dead, they are no longer coming back. Am I bad child?” Sanha murmured; familiar emotions are flooding his system.

The demon lets go after satiating his endless hunger, “don’t ask me with such trivial questions. I’m a demon, not your emotional supervisor or something” Sanha heaved a deep sigh.

Tears trickled down his cheeks but he quickly wiped it away, “I hate you” Sanha mumbled without much weight. He said it to JinJin numerous times already ever since they started the contract.

“Do you think I even care?” JinJin answered with boredom in his tone, “I’ll come back when you’re sane enough to handle your problems” Sanha picked up a pillow and threw it to JinJin but he already disappeared and the pillow hit the door of his room.

“What’s with that outfit?” Sanha grimaced. Jinwoo is wearing an oversized sweater, pants and large eyeglasses. Jinwoo puts down the laptop bag he’s holding at Sanha’s study table and quickly retaliated, “You don’t have any fashion sense in you so don’t you dare critique my outfit.”

“I hate you, I hate myself, I hate everything” He collapsed on his bed, mumbling the same words over and over until consciousness slipped away from his system.

–

Jinwoo held out a laptop and sat beside Sanha. He still wonders where the demon gets all of his things but he’s too tired to even ask.

“Let’s check the flash drive now” JinJin mumbled and plugged the flash drive, “I have my own laptop you know” Sanha mumbled.

“Idiot, do you think they don’t have any security measures installed in their devices? Plug this in your laptop and they would know by seconds who stole this flash drive. Good luck on explaining how the hell you manage to steal it in the first place” Sanha didn’t answer anymore as the demon had a point.

JinJin started opening the files in the flash drive, Sanha’s eyes widened when the screen showed a glitch. The demon started typing fast and one last click then the screen went to normal.

“Where and when did you learn all of that?” Sanha asked. His mouth is slightly open in wonder.

“How do you think we are able to survive through the years? Of course we need to cope with humans” JinJin answered in a smug tone and fixed his glasses like some genius (a nerd, Sanha whispered) in a movie.

Name: Lee Nari

“I got the right file” JinJin said and Sanha’s eyes quickly went to the screen again. The only folder in the flash drive composed of the data of the agents in his parents’ group.

Expertise: Stealth

Other information about the woman Sanha met earlier flashed in the screen which he couldn’t catch because JinJin quickly scrolled through the data.

Name: Im Eugene

Expertise: Hacking

“So that kid is a hacker” JinJin mumbled and Sanha swore he saw JinJin’s eyes burned with competition.

Expertise: Combat

Name: Noh Taemin

“Should I also teach you to fight?” JinJin looks at Sanha and was quickly discouraged, “Nah, it’ll take hundred years. I’’ll just handle it myself” The demon didn’t give him time to argue and continued scrolling.

Name: Shin Donghyuk

Expertise: Analyst

Sanha took note of the information he could see about Donghyuk, he’s the most suspicious, he doesn’t have a basis but it’s what his gut feels tell him.

“They’re on the same team until the last mission your parents received before they were ambushed” The demon said, not removing his eyes to the screen.

“You need to get closer to them if you want more information about them but at least you have prior knowledge about that group. Use your brain” JinJin pushed his glasses up and put down the laptop. Sanha was about to retaliate but his phone vibrated.

“Unknown number?” He mumbled, “Let me guess, one of those agents” the demon mused and rested his chin to his knuckles.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to answer the phone?” Sanha picked up his phone and quickly answered the call.

“Hello, who is this?” Sanha answered with formal tone.

“Sanha, this is Eugene, yesterday, do you remember?”

“Yeah,” he looked at JinJin who’s now wearing his infamous smirk, “Why did you call, and how did you get my number?”

“Your number is listed on your parents’ info and the boss wanted to talk to you, he asked me to fetch you. Can we meet in the nearby café? I’ll just need to get somewhere before picking you up. Is that okay?” he spoke in a fast yet calm manner, Sanha also noticed how hard the agent tried to remove his accent.

Sanha didn’t answer and let Eugene to continue, “I’ll be there exactly 4 pm. Would it be okay?”

“Okay…” Sanha simply answered and looked at JinJin again. The demon smiled, everything seems like an amusing movie for him.

–

“Why do you think I’m being summoned, did they know that we stole the flash drive?” Sanha asked nervously as they walk on their way to the café where he and Eugene are supposed to meet.

“We? It’s only you, child” The demon answered with a bored tone. Sanha continued nagging with obvious panic but JinJin didn’t give any care to Sanha’s sentiments.

“Rui!” Someone shouted. Their eyes went on a child running towards the middle of the road to follow his ball. Sanha’s feet automatically moved to sprint his way to the child but the demon held his hand to stop him.

Sanha can only close his eyes as a rushing truck is about to hit the poor boy. He heard a loud thud, Sanha slowly opened his eyes, expecting a grim accident. Instead, he saw something unusual in front of the truck. It looked like a barrier, a barrier made of feathers.

Sanha later realized that it was Myungjun after he withdrew his wings. The angel used his own wings to cover the child from being hurt.

The driver of the truck is surprised, he is sure that he has hit something but the child is totally unharmed. He went out of the vehicle and checked the child. The mother of the child also rushed towards the child. The place is quickly filled by people, by authorities and other by-passers.

“You don’t need to act like a super hero. The kid has his own protector” JinJin coldly pointed out and let go of Sanha’s hand. He couldn’t help but look at the angel’s magnificent wings.

He felt a familiar pain on his back.

The angel looked at their direction and the demon quickly averted his gaze and disappeared without notice. Sanha on the other hand is still frozen from where he is standing, he hasn’t recovered with what he have witnessed yet.

JinJin materialized in a rooftop of a random building nearby, he hissed in pain. The familiar pain on his back keeps on intensifying.

“Damn” He cussed and bared his own wings, his broken wings.

The only reminder of what he is in the past.

He laughed bitterly, he barely recalls how his own wings used to look like. All he can remember is how he was punished, how his whole body is seared through the holy blue flame.

He only remembers the excruciating pain and how unjust it is when he was banished from the heavens.

“So you’re an exiled” Myungjun spoke and observed the demon’s broken wings. The divine white color of its remaining feathers is now a mixture of blue and black. The angel heard that remnants of the exiled wings are purposely spared as an eternal reminder of their condemned sins.

The demon hid his wings and faced Myungjun. “Remove that pity in your eyes before I gouge it out” The demon threatened but the angel remained unfazed.

“What is the sin that you have committed?” Myungjun asked, somehow feeling sympathetic.

“Hah! I know you’re well aware of the heaven’s rules regarding humans,” the demon stood from where he is situated, “Two grave sins that you shouldn’t commit; to love a human or to kill the same, why choose when I can do both?” The demon grinned as the angel’s expression quickly changed.

The demon gave another annoying laugh and jumped off the rooftop.

“I can’t believe he’s an angel in the past…” Myungjun murmured.

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shiftyskip · 5 years

Text

Robert James Rader

Rader was not portrayed in Band of Brothers

The real Robert Rader

Robert James Rader was born October 9, 1923 in Manchester, Ohio. His parents were Walter and Bessie Rader. They had already had two kids, Walter Jr. and Charles William, when they Robert. After Robert was born, they had three more kids: Richard, Mary, and Ralph.

His father had previously served in World War 1, in the All-American Division. Which I believe is the 82nd Airborne. Correct me if I’m wrong on that. His father had fought in 5 major battles. He had been wounded and gassed. When his father returned he works as a stone cutter for a cemetery. Due to all this, Walter’s health was never the best.

Money was very, very tight. Robert’s family was very poor. Poor enough to eat road kill when circumstances allowed it. To make sure everyone got food, Robert made a difficult choice. Walter Jr., Charles William, and Robert all enlisted in the Ohio National Guard. Robert did so illegally, because he was underage. He was 16 at the time. This was so they’d get fed by the National Guard and their servings would go to those at home, instead. He got paid around $0.72 a day.

Robert lived in the same town as Donald Hoobler. They were close friends throughout their childhood. They played sports, swam in the nearby Ohio River, and even stole some watermelons. His love of sports continued in High School, and he started playing a few.

Pearl Harbor occurred while Robert was still in the National Guard. He was not in the National Guard for long after that, because they found out his real age and kicked him out. They gave him an honorable discharge, which would allow him to sit the war out. Once out of the National Guard, Robert went back to high school and graduated in 1942. He was the first in his family to ever graduate high school.

Donald Hoobler was the one who talked him and another friend William Howell into enlisting in the paratroopers. They enlisted a few short months after Robert’s graduate on August 22, 1942 at Fort Thomas Newport, in Kentucky.

Robert was one of the original Toccoa men. He got the lovely joy of training under the blessing that is Sobel.

Training under Sobel was tough. Sobel made a lot of boys in Easy hate him. And although Robert did not like Sobel, he respected Easy for making them tough enough to survive the war.

Guarnere gave him the nickname Rook. Although no one knows quite why he was given that nickname since he didn’t play chess. His family thinks it might have been a very loose Italian version of his last name Rader. But they never confirmed this idea.

Robert, Howell, and Hoobler went by a different nickname all together. Although this one was self given. They called themselves the “three hillbillies”. They were country boys and the rest of the company believed their “Appalachian” accent was weird. The trio made a friend named William Dukeman, who was from Colorado.

While the physical training had been hard, Robert loved Jump School. He really likes the higher jumps, making more jumps than he was required to get his wings. Although his love of jumps did not always go in his favor. During one jump, an ammunition holder (a large box made out of a type of metal) came loose (a common thing during jumps but not normally a typical form of injury) and hit him in the head. It caused a detached retina, which can result in vision problems. I do not know if Robert himself had any.

Robert made the trip across the sea with the rest of Easy Company. They arrived in Aldbourne, England. Where they remainded until it was time for the Normandy jump. During his free time, Robert played basketball and baseball.

When D-Day arrived, Robert was with Easy Company. His plane had Johnny Martin in it. He was sitting next to Martin when a shell burst through the plane and between their heads. Their plane took 250 hits altogether.

His pilot had been hit in the foot, causing a panic and miscommunication occurred. The pilot believed all the men had jumped and his plane was clear to go back to England. He turned the plane back towards England. The men realized they had to jump and they had to jump NOW. And they all quickly got out of the plane.

Robert, like most of Easy, lost all of his weapons in his jump. His landing in a pasture, was not a great one either. He landed hard, fracturing 3 vertabrae in his back. He ignored the pain and continued, he never did get this injury checked or fixed.

The first person he saw in Normandy was Burr Smith. Burr gave him a few weapons, so he finally had something. They were near Ste. Mère-Église when they engaged in minor combat against Poles and Russians who were fighting for Germany.

Robert played a small part in a Brecourt Manor with Richard Winters. He was between the guns and the beach front, making sure that the Germans didn’t flee back and recruit help.

Around the area of Carentan, Robert was in charge of a small squad. His squad engaged a group of Hitler Youth in combat. When the boys stated they’d die for Hitler, Robert knew they’d have to kill them. When they stopped firing, he saw boys, both his own and the Hitler Youth, laying out dead on the ground. At that moment, Robert promised that he’d focus the rest of his life on helping children.

Easy Company withdrew to Aldbourne. They rested there until it was time for the Holland jump. September 17, 1944, Robert and Easy jumped into Holland. For 79 days, Robert has nearly everyday contact with the Germans and fighting.

In Holland, he was injured during combat. Not by a German gun though. While hiding in a barn, a man next to Robert started cleaning his gun. It went off and hit Robert in the elbow. Robert was sent to the nearby aid station but they couldn’t send him back to England, there was no way for him to get a ship home at that moment. Without a way to England, Robert went back to Easy Company. When he arrived, he performed a bayonet charge shortly after. Injured arm and all.

His friend, Dukeman from Colorado, was hit and killed October 5, 1944. His son’s middle name was Dukeman in honor of this man, his friend and fellow brother in arms.

After returning from Holland, the boys were taken to Mourmelon. On their journey to Bastogne, they were given hot chocolate. But whoever drank it, ended getting horribly sick. Robert was one of the boys who drank it and spent his trip feeling awful.

Bastogne was cold. They had very little supplies and ammo and no winter weather gear. They were in the middle of a terrible winter and were completely unprepared for fighting during it. The cold was so bad, Robert’s eyelids froze open. He soon lost the feeling in his legs and arms. He even got shot in the hip at Bastogne and didn’t notice until 1987, more than 40 years later, during a CAT scan that had picked up his injury.

But the men did have some relief. Robert and Hoobler, the two best friends, took Christmas Eve night post, leaving the rest of the men to relax. It was their version of a Christmas present to everyone, sparing them the struggle.

Hoobler died shortly afterwards on January 3, 1945. Robert was deeply upset and affected by the death of Hoobler, his friend from childhood. Like Dukeman, who died in October, he later named his son after Donald Hoobler. His son’s name was Donald Dukeman Rader, in honor of his close friends.

In Bastogne, Howell, another friend, was injured. He survived his injury and retuned home. Bastogne left Robert nearly without any friends.

Near Foy, Robert instructed his men to dig their foxholes out in the open field, farther away from the shelter of the trees. This would let his men be exposed, causing some panic among his squad. But they listened anyways. Robert was proven right when shelling went over the heads of Robert’s squad and into the forest around them, shattering trees and anything in its way. His squad was fine, without any major injuries.

Robert was discharged November 1945. He had earned a Purple Heart but turned it down, saying,“How could I receive it when do msnt others were wounded so badly?” He was awarded the Broze Star for his service.

He arrived back home at night. He went inside and went to sleep without waking anyone. His mother had been boarding soldiers, always coming and going, and when she saw her son, she didn’t recognize him. The war had changed him so much.

Throughout the war, he had saved all his money and sent it home to his mother. While he had wanted her to spend it, she had not and instead had saved it for his return.

He returned to school and attended Morehead State College on his GI Bill and sports scholarship. His legs had suffered tremendously in Bastogne and his sports career never got far and he lost his scholarship.

Robert transferred over to Cedarville College, a Baptist school. He was not religious but his friends attended so he went. The school was a dry school, meaning he couldn’t drink, but he found a way to sneak alcohol in. He would use a pulley system to get it up to him and would freeze it outside during the winter months. He still played baseball and basketball, but not on a scholarship. Somehow, even though he was a wild child, he received his bachelors degree in education.

He used his degree to become a teacher and in the 1950s he moved from Ohio to California, following the move of several of his friends. In California , he met Lucille, a nurse. They had been set up on a blind date and began dating. They were married on February 14, 1953, Valentine’s Day.

Robert got a job at the California School for Boys. After that job he got another teaching job in the Paso Robles school district. He worked at this school until his retirement, 25 years later. During his first few years teaching at this school, he worked 2 jobs. He was a teacher and an assistant manager at the Paso Robles airport, where he fueled airplanes. His reasoning behind these two jobs was that the airport job earned him social security, the teaching did not.

Lucille remained a nurse, taking a short time to be a stay at home mom when two kids were born. He didn’t get much time off for hobbies, since he was working so much. But he did play softball and go fishing. He continued to love sports till his final day, even buying two TVs to put in one room so that he could watch two events at the same time.

His children, Donald and Robin. Robin was born in October 1953. Donald was born in May of 1958. As a family, they traveled to National Parks together and went to Easy Company Reunions. At one Easy Company Reunion, Donald Dukeman was allowed to shoot a gun at the age 7, and Robin, even though she was older, was not allowed. No matter how much she begged.

Robert also volunteered with the local fire department for 10 years. As he volunteered, he once experiences a huge fire that burned all night. When he came home, he got ready and just went to school to teach.

He was a strict teacher, there was no nonsense in his call room. All the wild children were sent to him so he could deal with them. He would get his students attention by throwing an eraser at his chalkboard and one time even picked up and threw a rowdy kid out the door of his room.

But he started teaching handicapped kids and his eraser and kid throwing days were over. He became a bit softer.

He also coached basketball and cross country for his school. In his 10 years coaching cross country, 7 of his teams went to the finals. He had two All-American runners as well. He was very proud of his team.

He did keep in touch with men from Easy Company. He wrote letters and had Bull Randlemen and Mike Ranney visit a few times. He was extremely close with Bull. He also was visited by Leo Matz, a squad member of his. He signed his letters to Easy Company: “Robert J. Rader, here. Be good. Be carful. Sleep Warm.”

He adjusted fairly easy to normal life, but like every Easy Company man, seemed to struggle with the winter months. Bastogne and Hoobler’s death hit him hard. Whenever the holidays came around, he got quiet for days at a time. When his daughter asked, he explained Christmas reminded him of Hoobler.

Robert struggled with health problems all of his life. He retired in 1981 due to health problems. In total, he has 2 heart surgeries with 9 bypasses, lost a kidney, had an aortic aneurisms, as well as stomach ulcers and an bladder problem. Doctors ended having to cut half of his stomach away. He carried on, even going golfing one time immediately after a surgery.

After his retirement, he and Lucille continued to travel to Paris and Holland. They took long walks and went golfing together. They continued to travel as his health failed, although they had to watch his diet.

His health did not last long though, his always active lifestyle changed toward the end of his life. He had to lay down a lot and couldn’t sit up much. He lost weight and his heart was failing. His last few months were spend writing letters and watching sports. He eventually lost his appetite and his other kidney failed.

Within the last week of his life, he didn’t want to get out of his pajamas, which was the real sign something was wrong. He had always gotten dressed and ready to go. Within a few days after this, his blood pressure dropped and his family took him to the hospital.

On his final day in the world, Lucille went home early. She was really tired and needed to rest. After she left, Robert asked his kids: “Is she okay?” Concerned about his wife even when he was in the hospital.

Later that day, he went to sleep and passed away. He died April 7, 1997. He was buried under trees in a cemetery.

A bridge was dedicated in his memory, a sign of all the lives he had touched. The project was led by citizens of Paso Robles, started by a former student of his. It is named the Robert J. Rader Memorial Bridge. At the dedication of his bridge, several Easy Company men attended including Buck Compton, Bill Manyard, Rod Bain, Ed Joint, Bill Wagner, Don Malarkey, Jack McGrath, Earl McLung, and Shifty Powers.

Be good. Be careful. Sleep Warm.

#band of brothers #profiles #real life band of brothers #real band of brothers #robert rader

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banditthewriter · 5 years

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Impossible Year - Billy Russo - 2

The reaction to that first part was amazing! I hope you all enjoy this little story of mine! And because I’m so excited, here’s part 2 already!

(Yes, the title of this is from the Panic song but it’s not based off of the song. I just needed a title with Year in it haha.)

Since links are making posts not show up in tags, you can find previous parts on my Masterlist in my about me!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

Enjoy!

***** February

Billy was tossing a football back and forth with Frank, both of them grumbling about the mission that was coming up. Things had been too relaxed lately and when news came down of a mission, everyone had snapped into professional mode. "Think we're ready?" asked Billy as he tossed the ball at Frank who caught it with a snort. "At least your squad seems pretty tight. I've got Baker and Wakefield who seem so green they are basically blue." Billy could only laugh which means he missed when Frank aimed the ball right at his face. It bounced off and only made Billy laugh a little harder. "Better have Baker and Wakefield on scrub duty man." Frank dropped his shoulders and got into a sparring stance. Seeing the change, Billy grinned widely and did the same. Before either of them could make a move, one of the privates came into the tent with a stack of mail and a few packages. "Mail call," Frank said as he bumped his shoulder against Billy's. "You're lucky man, I'd have taken you down in a blink of an eye." Frank laughed and flipped Billy off as he accepted his mail. "Nah Bill, you woulda been in the sand before you could even twitch." That could have continued and no doubt would have but Billy's name was called by the private. He moved over to accept the package with a smile. There wasn't a stamp from that damn company. Instead the return address and name was from the girl directly. While Frank was busy with his own stuff, Billy sat down on his cot and opened the box up. This time there was even more stuff packed in tight. Toiletries mostly; baby wipes and chapstick and mini bottles of lotion and mouthwash. There was also a good amount of candy like before. There was some licorice that Billy tucked under his pillow with a grin. He was getting a little disappointed at the lack of a letter this time until he saw a folded sheet of paper at the bottom of the box. Dear Billy, I was really surprised to receive a letter back from you, but I'm glad that you enjoyed the package. You were right in thinking that I'd had some experience with these kind of things. I've packed this one with some of the same stuff but a few other things that I figured would come in handy. As for the Marine that offered his hand in marriage? Be sure to tell him that while I appreciate it, I couldn’t possibly accept. My dad and brother were in the Army and I'm pretty sure marrying a Marine would be cause for being disowned. I don't know where you're from, but I obviously live in New York. Not the city, but nearby. I've never been big on huge cities, but I do have to admit that there's something special about NYC. What about you? Where are you from? And what's your favorite place to visit? Do you have any tips about how to reinforce a fence so that my neighbor's asshole dog will stop burrowing over onto my property and ruining my garden? Figured it couldn't hurt to ask. I hope this letter finds you well. If you have any requests for the next package, let me know. Dream big! Be safe, Y/N Billy read the letter a second time with a smile. He wasn't sure what it was about her, but he quite liked this girl. Sure it was just a letter, but there was a lot of personality in the way that she wrote. "What you got there Bill?" This time Billy tucked the letter under his leg as he held out the box. Frank let out a low whistle as he picked through the offerings. "Your pen pal sure knows the way to a man's heart." After he hid the rest of the contents, because he wanted to be able to use them to barter when needed and not ahead of time, Billy pulled the letter back out. So she was an Army brat. That explained why she felt the need to send a care package to a random stranger. It'd make more sense for her to do it to someone she knew, but maybe she had her own reasons for sending it through a program instead. And she lived in New York. Billy had been raised in a group home in Albany and then went to the city as soon as he was old enough to strike out on his own. He'd been in the military for most of his life and didn't have anywhere specific to call home. Closest he got was Frank and Maria's place which was just outside of New York City. They always had a spare bed or couch for Billy to crash on when they were between deployments. Billy glanced at the paper next to the chess table and then glanced around the tent. He'd wait until there was more privacy before he wrote her back. Plus he wanted to get some opinions on reinforcing a fence. ------ "Thanks Molly," you called as your neighbor dragged her dog back across the property line. You frowned at the holes the dog had dug into the snow covered flower beds. Damn dog. You tucked your mail under your arm as you went into the house, your shoes crunching through the snow from your mailbox to your porch. The snow had been a surprise but you didn't mind as long as your heat didn't go out again. You'd slept on the floor in front of the fireplace that first night, wrapped up in multiple blankets as you tried not to freeze to death. As you started to put your mail down on the bar, you hesitated at the sight of somewhat familiar handwriting. You tugged the envelope out of the stack and looked at the return address and smiled when you saw Billy's name and handwriting. While you removed your shoes, you used a letter opener to open the envelope and pulled out the few sheets of paper. With a grin, you settled onto the couch and read over the letter. Dear Y/N, Thank you for the package. You really got this down to an art. It came at just the right time too. We've been unable to get resupplied lately so I'm basically Midas with all this. I'll find a way to forgive that you're an Army brat. As for the marriage proposal, it's good that you turned it down. He's an asshole from California; you can do better. I'm actually from Albany. Well, I was safe havened in Albany and stuck around until I was old enough to set off for my own. I spend a lot of time in New York City when I'm between deployments. One of my buddies here, Frank, lives around there with his family too. I spend a lot of time with them. I'm Uncle Billy to their kids. I don't get to do a lot of traveling. I spend a lot of my time deployed and when I'm not, I'd rather not be traveling. I've been to Europe a few times and I enjoy it, but I'd rather just be home in New York. As for your question about reinforcing a fence? I know jackshit about that kind of stuff, but I asked around. Got a lot of different types here and a few had some suggestions. I've attached a few drawings and ideas, depending on the type of fence you have. Some of them are obscene, you can never know with Marines. Just try not to be offended. You said your brother was Army and you sent him care packages too. He deployed right now? We've run into a few Army grunts; think the world is small enough that I've run into him? I look forward to hearing from you again. Sincerely, Billy Russo Your smile dimmed a bit when you saw him mention your brother, but you sighed and then flipped the pages over to look at the fence drawings. They were all different and ranged from doable to impossible. Was that... did someone actually draw a moat? You laughed and pulled out a small folded piece of paper that had almost gotten lost in the others. The front had Billy's handwriting on it. This letter will probably reach you after Valentine's day. Don't know if you have someone to celebrate that with, but can't hurt. You unfolded the paper and had to smother a laugh. It was a heart made out of drawings of guns and grenades as well as other things of war. It was just what you needed after the emotional bitch-slap of having him mention your brother. With the Valentine in hand, you walked into the kitchen and attached the paper to your fridge with a few small magnets. You weren't sure why you were so amused by the drawing, or why you wanted to keep it somewhere you'd see it every day, but you didn't want to look too hard into it. Instead you moved over to grab some paper and a pen. It was your turn to write again. 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