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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi, Eve

Rose here from yesterday, thank you very much for the Birthday message, I wasn't expecting you to read it let alone reply but I was looking for Coops kids Birthday fluff specifically. It doesn't matter if you don't have time however as I don't want to be a bother.

Hello Rose, and happy (belated) 20th birthday! Sorry for the wait--I really wanted to get this one right to celebrate such an important number. I hope your day was absolutely fantastic! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Stella is an OC

Combined with asks for Sirius lightly making fun of Remus' accent and Remus yelling at a game show (@nazar4114)

“Medusa!” Stella shouted with all the force in her thirteen-year-old lungs. Remus leaned forward on the couch. “Medusa!”

The front door opened with a creak. “I’m h—”

“Yes!” they cheered in unison as Nicole answered correctly. Remus turned and gave Stella a double high-five, feeling his heart squeeze at the vivid joy on her round face. “Good guess.”

“I knew she was gonna get it,” Stella said with a pump of her fist as she turned back to the show and folded her legs underneath her.

“Gonna,” a familiar deep voice mimicked from the doorway. Paper bags rustled before footsteps stopped behind the couch; Remus tilted his chin up without sparing a glance, and Sirius pressed a laugh-laced kiss to his cheek before dropping one on Stella’s head as well. “You sound too much like your dad.”

“Love you, too,” Remus said wryly.

“I’ll take ‘Myths and Moths’ for 400, please.” Nicole’s voice snapped his attention back to the screen, and Stella narrowed her eyes.

“Daily Double!” the automated voice announced. Stella gasped; Remus bit his lower lip. “This mythical shield was wielded by Athena, and is sometimes said to be made of goat skin.”

“Aegis,” Stella whispered, then raised her voice. “It’s the Aegis, Nicole. You know this.”

“We know you do,” Remus said, scooting forward. “You just guessed whose head is on it.”

Nicole’s buzzer went off with two seconds to spare. “What is the Aegis?”

“Hell yeah!” Stella whooped.

Remus turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse you.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you two going to do this the whole afternoon?” Sirius asked from the kitchen, obviously amused. “We might need to get the neighbors some noise-cancelling headphones.”

Stella blew a dark lock of hair out of her eyes as she flopped her head back. “It’s almost final Jeopardy, papa. We have, like, ten minutes.”

Sirius blinked at her, then shook his head. “I swear you two share genes.”

“Ope, you caught me,” Remus said over the noise of the commercial break. “When I was 20 and had literally never left Wisconsin, I went and had a secret kid in Maine who looks terribly like you just so that someone would watch Jeopardy reruns with me thirteen years later. Oops.”

“It’s the truth,” Stella said with great gravity. “I remember.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t keep a smile down. He had never been able to hide around Stella, not once in the three years since they had adopted her. It was one of the things Remus loved most about him. “By the way, nobody under the age of fourteen is allowed in the kitchen for the next…hour. Ish.”

Stella squirmed around until she could rest her arms on the back of the couch. “What if I get thirsty?”

“I’m sure you can invoke birthday privileges and ask your dad to get something for you.”

“Birthday privileges?” Remus scoffed. “Nobody in this house has a birthday today. Yours was last month, and mine’s in March.”

“It’s my birthday,” Stella said.

“What? No, it’s not.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Your birthday is in June.”

“It’s today.”

“Or maybe July?”

“It’s today, in December, when there’s snow,” she insisted, throwing herself back against the pillows. “Come on, dad, that’s not funny anymore.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Is somebody too old to find their poor old dad amusing now? Can you go back to being twelve so somebody will laugh at my jokes again? I know, I know, we're super lame compared to all your friends’ parents—”

“So lame,” Sirius agreed from the kitchen.

“—but I like to think we get one more year of pre-teen cuteness before the teen angst takes over.”

Stella sat up again with a groan. Looking at her, Remus saw a mix of himself and Sirius that had always baffled him, considering they had adopted her comparatively late in her life; beneath it was something uniquely Stella. Maybe it was her double-jointed elbows, or the board-straightness of her hair next to their curls, but there was no mistaking that she was her own person through and through. He loved that about her. “I’m not going to be a terrible teenager.”

Sirius poked his head around the edge of the kitchen—his nose was adorned with a smudge of flour. “Can I record that for future use?”

“Non.”

“Ooo, using the French,” Remus hissed. “That transformation is already beginning.”

“It’s not like you were bad teenagers, right?” She settled upside-down on the couch with her flamingo-patterned socks high in the air.

“I almost convinced Grandma to let me dye my hair blue, but otherwise I was pretty good.”

“I was terrible,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t talk to anybody for a solid three years.”

Stella frowned. “How? I think I’d die if I did that.”

“He’s stubborn,” Remus stage-whispered.

“I heard that.”

Stella suppressed her laughter as best she could, but she was about as good at hiding her emotions around them as Sirius was. She didn’t really giggle—the amount her voice had deepened over the past three years always gave Remus whiplash—but her laugh had the same cadence as it did the first day they heard it. While Stella had been quiet at first, it only took love and time to bring her out of her shell. Within a year she settled into their lives like she was always meant to be there.

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “This is my last year before high school.”

“Does it feel different?”

“Not really.” She paused, then shrugged. “And a little. I don’t feel older. It just feels like there’s stuff I won’t get to do anymore.”

“And a lot more you will get to do.” Sirius left his dishtowel on the counter before joining them on Stella’s other side. “You can drive soon, you’ll get a longer curfew, you get more freedom…”

“I guess.”

“What are you going to miss?” Remus asked as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. It was a basic Lions FAN jersey; he was fairly sure she bought it to be ironic. That, and she only wore one of theirs if she was upset with the other, or if one needed a boost at a game.

“I dunno.” A few beats of silence passed. “My classmates. My team. It feels like everything’s going to turn upside down.”

“You can still keep in touch with your friends, and I bet your team won’t be too different,” Sirius said quietly. “Even if it does, that doesn’t mean you have to give all of them up. People change in different ways. They come and go on their own time.”

“There’s going to be a lot of upside-downs over the next couple years, kid.” Remus offered her a smile. “But you’re going to be just fine.”

“You two sound like such dads right now.”

“This might shock you, but that’s because we are.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up and she lolled her head to the side to look at Sirius. “Is the cake done?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“Will you watch final Jeopardy with us?”

“What’s the category?”

“US Presidents.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, but nodded. She grinned and turned herself upright to snuggle against his arm. “You just enjoy watching me lose.”

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

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Sirius called from the kitchen.

“On three,” Remus said, raising his phone camera. “One, two, three!”

“Happy birthday to you,” over a dozen voices sang. They were off-tempo and so out of key the composer was probably spinning in his grave, but Stella’s clear joy didn’t waver for a millisecond even as her cheeks reddened. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Stella, happy birthday to you!”

Finn, of course, dragged out the last note. So did Leo, Logan, Kasey, James, Lily, and Talker in varying degrees of awful harmony attempts. It was terrible, and beautiful. “Make a wish,” Sirius said softly as he set the cake down and stepped back. His eyes were the brightest quicksilver Remus had seen in many moons.

Stella closed her eyes, took a breath, and blew as hard as she could—the entire room erupted into cheers when all the candles went out. She was laughing and blushing at the same time when Remus turned the lights back on, though the humor won out in the end and she helped pass plates of cake to her many aunts and uncles. Like every year prior, Regulus managed to smear a bit of frosting on her chin, only to immediately deny it with great offense when she noticed. It was becoming a bit of a tradition—one that Remus never grew tired of.

I know what I would wish for, Remus thought as he looked around the table at their patchwork family. Celeste, Dumo, and his own parents had no doubt spoiled their first grandchild with ‘cusp of adulthood’ gifts, and Natalie and Lily would certainly steal her away after cake for some girl time. Finn and Logan would remain the fun uncles while Leo and Regulus kept their thrones as the cool uncles; Stella would interrogate Jules on the intricacies of high school for at least an hour before they destroyed everyone in a snowball fight. The world they built together had a place for everyone.

I would wish for this. This, for us, forever. It wasn’t a bad eternity to imagine.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #coops kid #stella #lions #regulus black #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #birthday party

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the-blue-fairie · 3 years

Text

Face to Face

AO3

Sometimes, people can love you and desire what is best for you... and still hurt you. The events of Frozen 2 behind her, Elsa reflects on the trauma she has known.

I always say my works are personal, but this one runs deep and I hope it resonates with you as it did for me while I wrote. Please review, comment, tell me what you think. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thank you.

***

Father, you know what’s best for me…

Mother, you were here Mother, you are gone…

She saw reflections of herself in them.

Her father’s fear, a mirror of her own…

Her mother’s tears, silver in her eyes…

Anna only had the chance to see the door, its fine rosemaling the design of a king – conceived, composed with statesman’s craft, the ornamentation of a heart in grief; the pattern that diverts the eye, like in a king’s crown, in courtly attire, in the pageantry that is painted with a portrait, orb and scepter glinting, catching the eye instead of the face of doubt, overpainted with refinement anyway to be the face of the land and not a man – its rosemaling the perfect pattern of a queen, everyone’s queen, everything to everyone, smile flashing like the silver on her brow… while Elsa saw beyond the door…

Elsa saw the lines upon her father’s face the painter would only catch to discard, catch in the eye but not in the brush.

(A brush can stipple over even the mind’s eye in time…)

Elsa saw her mother’s tears sliding down her cheeks, not silver but clear as any tears.

Elsa heard the softness in their voices…

(Conceal it, don’t feel it can sound hard, but…)

The snugness the first time the gloves slipped over her hands…

The gentleness with which her father clasped them…

The darkness that fell with the fall of the curtains…

The echoing silence when the gates were shut…

(Go away, Anna sounded hard too…)

(A false equivalency, Anna would call that, but Anna didn’t know, Elsa knew, Elsa had seen, seen the pain in mama and papa’s faces, pain because of Elsa – no, not because of, pain for the sake of Elsa, Elsa had to defend them…)

(The fault was mine…)

(Never mind that Go away, Anna only came to her mind because of their teaching – came to mind? – came implied a natural emergence, coming willingly, when it was as natural to her as… as cruelty was to mama and papa…)

(That is to say, not natural at all.)

(They loved her.)

(As she loved them, loved Anna…)

(It was not a false equivalency at all, couldn’t she make her sister see that? make herself see that?)

Never mind that they were tall as the shadows of trees that rose before her on that long night, that long journey to the trolls… Never mind that she was tiny, a little girl (a little girl they held in their arms all that long way, was she forgetting that?) – Never mind that she had been a child, a child is not a mold of their parents, death-mask-imprint, mama and papa did not stamp her features, corpse-white, death-mask white, she did not die in childhood, she, she, she lived, it was… fleeing her own culpability to claim the imprint theirs when…

(When they loved her…)

(They were never cruel…)

(They wanted to protect her as she had wanted to protect Anna…)

(They were never cruel just as she was never cruel…)

(If they hurt her, then she hurt…)

False equivalency false equivalency false equivalency false equivalency – the whisper like guilt that was the relinquishing of guilt – the letting go of guilt, but she could not let go…

Letting go…

Youthful impetuousness. An impulsiveness that sent a storm spiraling, damn the consequences…

Cringeworthy.

Don't let them in, don't let them see Be the good girl you always have to be Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know Well, now they know!

(The fault was mine…)

She had grown beyond the relinquishing of guilt, the release of it to the icy winds, the blue hues of her first ice gown new-spun into snow-whiteness, new-spun, spinning full circle, grown into the guilt again, into the ease of the wince, the guilt was good now because it was easy, silken as ice-gossamer, not frosting the throat, no, not with ice-needles, good, be the good girl you always have to…

There was anger in her voice on the mountaintop…

(Anger splinters ice-needles that settle in the throat.)

(Anger is youth, maturity is peace.)

(Peace settles as ice-needles, coating the throat, pricking the throat with guilt at guiltlessness, an inversion of guilt that becomes guilt itself, but… subtle in the lungs…)

(Anger sends the needles flying, not self-collapse but self-construction, sculpting spires, not stepping in but stepping forward, for herself, not stepping into patterns already woven but stamping her own upon the earth, singing out, hips swaying in sensuality – hers, her own monument of her own making and anger was the edge – not the edge of needles that carve the throat, hoarfrost from within, inversion, but the edge that carves her ice, shaves the frost from the steps as she storms on, not self-destruction but the exhilaration of creation…)

Cringe-inducing.

Peace settles as a wisp of breath from a throat already half-coated with shards, tears of blood running from within…

Tears.

Tears can

(cleanse/blind)

(cleanse)

(blind)

Tears cast her mother in silver hues, flashing like a diadem, deflective. Yet, there is a softness in the silver, for even diadem-deflection is as a dream of before, when mama tucked her to her bosom with Anna beside her, both in their mother’s arms… even that has its allure, dream-distant, even when the silver sheen shimmers in the dimness of the locked-door room, her locked-door room, Elsa’s…

Silver blends with snow-whiteness, brilliant beneath ice-sandaled feet, bends the shape of her, the shapes, distortive, so many facets glinting, blurring, until your eyes leak with awe and you call it catharsis, call it relief, call it… peace, needle-pricking, and what to call the needles if they are peace? peace cannot prickle, peace cannot bleed, except that it can, it does, except that the word, deflective, bends itself, becomes reflective, not in self but in word, you speaking your word but not on your terms…

A relief that does not relieve but that insists it does and each insistence whispers less relief into your heart…

Effigies stood in Ahtohallan, effigies ice-carven, of mama and papa, younger than she had been when the gates were shut…

Her mother’s graven hair flowing about her like the foam-crested sea curving and cascading, sapphire-leaves swirling, circling her…

(Free…)

Her father’s face soft even in the stonelike ice, head bowed before his father, his tutor…

(Yearning a freedom like her own…)

Effigies etched to distinctness, the detail in their eyes catching the cavern’s luminescence, that luminescence imbuing their eyes with light and love as they grew…

(Love…)

(They loved her…)

That thought was warm – as blood was warm, welling in her throat in a fountain, bounty to the parched, she drank deep the blood for want of water, swallowed it back down, never mind that it was her blood, welling from the wounds of the thorns in her throat – better to swallow back the thorns, the feeling as she swallowed wasn’t choking, she wasn’t gagging, the congestion was warm as water was cool to a dying woman in the pale and shadowless light…

She had learned to savor the taste of her own blood, pretend it was sweet, and when she sang now, she let the blood flow down her throat like cinnamon cider – the barbs, the cloves, not barbs at all – because the only alternative was a song of anger, a song of wince and cringe that she had told herself she had outgrown…

(Never mind that the song of anger did not culminate in anger. Never mind that the anger’s edge did not bleed through the song as prone peace now bled upon her tongue. Never mind that the anger of its edge, the defiance, led not to implosion but ascension. Never mind that…)

Her mother wrapped her and her sister in her gentle arms singing a song of her people, long-lost – not in diadem-silver or in tear-silver but in crystal-blue as Elsa’s first ice gown, as the jewel of her ice palace in the rose-tinted dawn.

Her mother’s lullaby, a song of defiance – as Elsa’s first song of defiance…

A song of defiance silvered over with peace, confined within silver bars, confined within the silver circlet that rounded the mortal temples of Iduna…

Such was a peace that swallowed down blood, that grew to accept the reconciliation instead of the anger, because mother never had a chance to scream the anger, to sing her song of defiance to the skies – Na na na heyana / Hahiyaha naha – it wasn’t even really a reconciliation that she grew to accept, for reconciliation implies mutuality, but a peace, just as Elsa grew to accept a peace with an aporia…

The ice-Iduna gathering her children to her arms sat beside an ice-Iduna nodding in affirmation as the gates were shut, the silence echoing as the silence from an abyss, an aporia…

Drawing closer and closer to the aporia…

(They loved me…)

The thing she dared not name did not deny that love, but to say it was to carve a gash into the walls of Ahtohallan, split the false wall as she had done when she had followed Runeard’s effigy, except now it was she erecting a wall within her heart’s chambers…

(They – you –)

Standing upon the brink, chasm yawning before her, lungs burning with the cold, bleeding –

(You hurt me.)

Anna’s eyes meeting hers the first time she closed the door…

(Hurt us.)

(You hurt us.)

She half-expected the ice lining her throat to spread, to feel the blood running down her throat congeal into ice itself, along with the blood in her veins, to feel the ice silver-snake her limbs, stiffen her joints, and yet… it had been the peace that settled the ice, the thorn-frost, needle-sharp, making her to bleed – the peace that allowed the blood to clog, the peace that choked her when she dared not call it choking… and it was the defiance that dispelled the silver scarring her throat, sent the silver shards spiraling…

She half-expected to hack up the blood, retch it up, body bent in blackness of the void, body bowed as after the plunge, kneeling as an exhausted dancer, hair fallen about her face…

Anger was violence, was it not? and peace was peace, maturity’s peace? Some violence, then, as consequence for this… violence… in her heart…

(You hurt us.)

But there was no violence – no cataclysm come upon her, no cracking of the foundations of Ahtohallan, no crashing of its walls…

Instead, when she swallowed, she no longer tasted blood.

No longer felt the frost.

She had pretended the pain’s absence for so long, called it cinnamon cider, that she almost feared this was that – but those devil’s mirror shards, she had flung from her as she had flung her gloves to the sky atop the North Mountain.

Devil’s mirror shards fallen away, her mother rose before her, a visage amid the crystal-blue, smooth as skin swabbed of the sweat of guilt, smooth as clarity – not a monument of awe, towering over her daughter, not a statue in the square, but a woman, soft and shivering as the dappled hues that danced through Ahtohallan. Arendelle silver hung about her brow as a shackle hangs about a wrist, a shawl of scarlet, Northuldra-patterned, hung about her neck, shivering with her, a last remnant, a last vestige… as if afraid…

Her eyes were dark, misted with guilt, as Elsa’s always had been.

(False equivalency.)

(No, not as Elsa’s had been, with their own guilt, their own fear, but a fear with which Elsa empathized…)

A supplication in those eyes – forgive me –

A hand reaching out through the crystal-blue –

Elsa raised her own hand, stretched it out, pressed her palm to the wall of ice…

Her fingers met her mother’s.

The two women stood before one another, face to face – and Elsa saw in Iduna’s eyes the shadows of a village burned… It seemed a host of Arendellian soldiers was at her mother’s back, swords drawn to cut her mother down, coming in a long line, silver as a pall… or were the faces Arendellian? or older, other, other faces, other lands with a hatred of magic, who would not suffer a witch to live? coming endlessly from the dim imprint of history that marked her mother and that in turn marked her, marked Anna…

A silver chain, fear forging each new ring with each passing generation, Iduna forging as she had been taught, teaching her daughters in her turn…

But not as her mothers taught her, for there is kinship in the passing of pain that is known to children that will also know that pain, it is not the passing of pain but the whispered knowledge of survival… but Iduna’s throat had been shackled in silver, Agnarr’s spilling silver as though he had ingested liquid mercury (a son of pain, but not like hers, Arendelle-silver dangled in the baubles that hung above his crib – no, not pain – Arendelle-gold had been wrought for his brow from birth, he could surmise, perhaps, but he did not know…)

(He did not know as they knew…)

(The falsest of false equivalencies was to say he knew as they knew…)

A shadow she thought was Grandfather coming up behind her mother, but it was not Grandfather, it was her Father, looking so like his father in the dim, eyes pleading for her forgiveness…

Elsa’s fingers entwined with her mother’s, looking her in the eyes, looking her father in the eyes, on equal footing with them for once in her life, feeling Anna’s presence somehow for Anna’s will was stronger than the foundations of Ahtohallan, and Anna’s eyes were fixed on them – hello father, hello mother –

***

Upon her return to the village, Elsa ran her fingers over every carven thing.

She ran her hand over every quilt, tracing every pattern, every diamond, every line…

She ran her hand over every hanging fabric, every reindeer hide…

Each goahti she passed had not been burned…

The village stood.

Stood.

Upon Elsa’s return to the village, the children ran to her.

She embraced them, kissed them, traced their faces and the furs of their caps.

Yelana was waiting there, the wisdom of many mothers Elsa had never known in the creases of her face, a warmer mother than Elsa had ever known, unshackled by Arendelle silver…

Elsa clasped Yelana’s hands to hers – living hands, warm hands, hands of memories still to be made…

The day was crisp and clear.

Clear.

Elsa took to the nokk, spurred it across the waters, and when she came to the fjord, Anna was waiting there, as though she had felt the reverberations in Ahtohallan, Anna knew, Anna had always known, her will was stronger than the circlet of Arendelle silver upon her brow, Arendelle’s queen, her sister, victim as Elsa was a victim, the hurt ran deep, the trauma of their childhoods, the trauma of before, her sister, Anna, Anna…

Elsa threw her arms around her, held her tightly, could not let her go, tears flowing freely down her face…

Tears can cleanse.

#frozen #frozen 2 #elsa #agnarr and iduna #snow sisters

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

Footprints

Pairing: (F)Reader x BamBam

Word count: 7.4k

Genre: Fluff | Soulmate AU | Romance

Summary: Everyone has their own footprints that their soulmates are supposed to follow, and everyone has their own colour. Growing up in Thailand, you followed the footprints as much as you could until one day, they disappear. It’s only when you leave Thailand for work that you find where the footprints had disappeared to...

Warnings: None

Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings || Mark - Inked || Jackson - Bubbles || Jinyoung - Masked || Youngjae - Drawings || Yugyeom - Pieces

Masterlist

You looked down at the baby blue footprints as you followed them, your feet stepping over them. Your parents watched from afar as you did, both of them sat at the bench. They knew what you were doing when they saw you waddling along the trail of footprints. You felt disappointment wash over you when the footprints came to a halt, disappearing at the end of the park. You turned around with a pout on your face as you looked at your father who was approaching you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He questioned when he saw your pout.

“The footprints disappeared, papa.” You pointed to the last fading footstep and your father pursed his lips.

“That means your soulmate didn’t want to leave any more footprints,” He told you as he picked you up. “Have you been leaving any footprints for them to find?” He asked as he brought you back to your mother. You shook your head just as he sat you on the bench in between you and your mother, your tiny legs dangling off the edge of the wooden bench.

“You should leave some for them. If your soulmate’s footprints are here, then it means they probably live here too,” Your mother pointed out as she turned to watch the baby blue footprints slowly fade.

“How do I know I’m getting close?” You inquired as you looked up at both your parents.

Your father let out a thoughtful hum, “Well, your heart will start to beat faster first if they’re nearby. Sometimes, you can hear their heartbeat when you get closer.” He added, “You’ll know it’s your soulmate when you hear it. When you see them, your footprints will start to glow.” Your eyes stayed on your parents as the thought processed in your mind. It was a lot for an eight year old to understand, but you knew that eventually, you would.

You couldn’t wait until the day you would be able to hear your soulmate’s heartbeat in your ears. All you had to do was follow the footprints they left behind for you and all your soulmate had to do was follow your own pastel pink footprints. You grew up following the footprints intently whenever you’d find them, your childhood being filled with baby blue trails.

The weird thing about soulmates was that you could see everyone else’s footprints, but you knew exactly which ones were your soulmate’s. They were always the clearest and they always felt right whenever you followed them.

You had only seen the footprints after your parents moved to Thailand when you were five. It was only there that you started to follow the footprints that you didn’t see back in your home country. Your mother realised that you had found the footprints before your father did and both of them realised they had brought you closer to your soulmate. Rather than moving back, your father convinced his office to let him stay in Thailand for longer.

“(Y/n), stop following the footprints,” Your friend’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked between the older girl and the footprints that were already starting to fade as they led away from you. “We’re going to be late for class if we miss the bus.” Aisha urged as she tugged on the blazer of your uniform.

You looked between her and the footprints before sighing in defeat, following Aisha to the bus stop just in time to catch the bus. You both found empty seats and you looked out the window as the buildings passed. You had spent a good amount of your time throughout elementary and middle school trying to follow your soulmate’s footprints, but it seemed as though their footprints were starting to become less frequent.

It wasn’t until you were in high school that you realised the footprints were completely gone. You couldn’t find them anywhere anymore. There were times where you would see them at the park nearby your house, but they were no longer appearing there. Neither were they showing up at the beach that your family would go to every few months.

You remember the last time you saw them at the beach. They were standing right at the edge of the water and you watched as they faded away with a sinking feeling in your heart. Something didn’t feel right and you felt so far away from your soulmate despite their footprints being right there in front of you.

“(Y/n)!” You heard your mother call. ‘We’re leaving!” You turned around to your parents starting to pick up the beach mat before you turned back to see the footprints were gone. You watched as the waves crashed onto the beach, the water crawling up to your feet as you stayed still. You let the beach absorb you into the moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, the salty smell of the ocean filling your senses and the sounds of seagulls flying above you.

Your soulmate felt so far away and you could only wonder where they were.

»»————-　　————-««

He stepped out of the recording studio and looked down at the white footprints that painted the floors of the hallway. BamBam had never seen white footprints in the building before, but he knew it wasn’t his soulmate. He had seen theirs before. He knew his soulmate’s footprints were pastel pink. BamBam looked down to the trail of baby blue footprints he was leaving behind.

With a sigh, he stopped leaving footprints. He knew his soulmate was still back in Thailand, but he wondered whether they were okay. BamBam couldn’t exactly let them know he was leaving and he couldn’t help but worry that they thought he had abandoned them. They were so close. He saw their footprints at the park he used to visit frequently and he had heard the heartbeat once at the beach

BamBam wondered why he never tried to follow the heartbeat, but he knew that if he did, he would’ve been with his soulmate now. Had he not just listened to his brother and just followed the heartbeat, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

“Bam, you coming?” Yugyeom slapped his hand onto BamBam’s shoulder, bringing him back to reality. It took him a minute before he remembered that they were going to eat and he nodded, following the group out of the building.

As they stepped out of the JYP building, BamBam caught sight of a pair of baby pink footprints leading away from the building. A wash of excitement overcame him but was quickly replaced with disappointment when he placed his foot over the first footprints. It felt wrong. These weren’t his soulmate’s footprints.

Youngjae took notice of BamBam’s gaze towards the pink footprints and he nudged Yugyeom, gesturing towards the unusually quiet man.

“Oh, his soulmate’s footprints are pink. He used to see them all the time when he was in Thailand.” Yugyeom explained softly and Youngjae’s lips parted in realisation.

“Does that mean they’re still in Thailand when he moved here?” He questioned the younger member who nodded. Their staring caught the attention of the other members and soon all of them were watching as BamBam stared at the footprints longingly.

Jackson pointed out softly, “He looks really out of it.”

“He hasn’t moved in five minutes, should we bring him back?” Yugyeom questioned. They honestly didn’t know what to do. BamBam was never the kind of person who would dwell on much. He typically wouldn’t let problems in his mind settle for too long and he was usually quick to overcome negative emotions. He was a let loose, ‘life is a highway’ kind of guy and even when he was having bad days, they didn’t affect him as much as the footprints did.

“BamBam?” Jaebeom finally called out, his voice gentle as to not startle him. BamBam still jumped at the call and he turned around quickly, his eyes widening when he saw all six of them staring at him.

His face flushed red, “Oh, sorry.” He realised that he had probably been staring for quite a while for all of them to just stare at him

“Are you feeling alright?” Mark questioned. BamBam nodded and looked between all of them - they were all sharing the same concerned expression.

“I’m fine, I promise. It’s just something that’s been in my mind recently and it’ll take a while, but I’ll get over it.” He reassured them. Boy, was he wrong. The thought of his soulmate alone had been haunting him for the past few months.

When BamBam had first thought about it, he was laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about how he had left footprints all over Seoul ever since he moved. That was when he remembered that his soulmate was in Thailand. He pushed the thought away, knowing that it would just dampen his mood if he kept thinking about it. It was a particular phone call with his mum one evening that brought back the thoughts.

“I still see the footprints from your soulmate, BamBam.” She told him. BamBam looked at her through the screen with questioning eyes. “Well, it could be anyone else's, but they’re pastel pink.” She clarified.

“They probably think I abandoned them.” He muttered out softly. His mum turned to the screen and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you going to do about it? You know they’re here,” She pointed out. BamBam bit his lip as he thought about it.

“Should I come back to look for them?” He questioned.

“It’s up to you, BamBam. I think you should, but it’s really your choice whether or not you want to come back to look for them. Just remember to visit me when you do.” She chuckled.

BamBam spent a while thinking about it. He probably should’ve gone back straight away, but with his schedule, he couldn’t afford to just pick up and fly to Thailand to look for his soulmate. BamBam waited almost five months before he decided he had time to head back home.

"How long are you going back for?" Mark asked as his eyes were trained on the road.

"Two weeks. If I'm lucky, I'll come back connected to another soul." BamBam chuckled as he watched the sight of the airport grow bigger.

"What about your cats?" The older man questioned as he took his eyes off of the road for a second to glance over at him.

"Jaebeom hyung said he'll check on them everyday. I didn't feel like sending them to the cat sitter, so he'll take care of them until I'm back." He told Mark who nodded.

"Let me know when you're coming back. I'll come pick you up." He offered as he parked at the departure gate.

"Thanks, hyung." BamBam smiled as he got out of the car.

He made his way towards the doors but Mark's voice made him stop, "Oh, Bam!" He turned around to see his head sticking out of the car window. "Good luck! I'm sure you'll find them." He wished as he waved. BamBam felt his spirits lift and he smiled as he waved back, watching as Mark drove off.

»»————-　　————-««

“Are you sure about this?” Aisha questioned as you both sat on the bench. You nodded. “I’m gonna miss you.” She muttered out softly.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Sha. But, I can’t stay here anymore. It feels overwhelming.” You turned to face her but you felt your chest tightening when you saw her eyes welled up with tears. Your mother had passed away four years before and it didn’t feel the same anymore. The neighbourhood felt even lonelier and your father was preparing to move back to your home country. It was a decision made on somewhat of a whim, but both you and your father decided that Korea was the next place for you to go.

“Promise me you’ll come back to vist,” She spoke as you pulled her into a hug. “If you don’t, I’ll go to Korea myself and hit you.” Aisha joked as she wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek.

“I promise.” You smiled as you pulled away. You were leaving for Korea in two days and you were honestly scared as hell.

Aisha was one of your friends that you had known since you were a child. She knew about your soulmate’s footprints suddenly disappearing and she was there for you when your mother passed away. She was one of the reasons you wanted to stay, but the loneliness that the neighbourhood held was overwhelming.

Maybe you were a coward for wanting to leave, but you had an opportunity to work and move to Korea; a very promising opportunity. You somehow managed to get an offer to work at an entertainment company and they were willing to pay a lot since you were quite skilled to be a manager. Taking Korean in college was also a huge plus that landed you the job offer.

Your father peeked his head into your bedroom, “Are you all packed, sweetheart?”

“I think so,” You nodded absentmindedly as you looked around at the boxes that contained all of your belongings. “I have the stuff that I’m going to bring with me, the stuff I’m giving away and a small box of stuff that I’ll send back home.” You gestured to the multiple boxes. “Is everything else packed?” You looked up to your father who nodded.

“I’ll start shipping them home by next week.” He told you.

Your father would be alone to ship everything off, leaving you worried. “You sure you don’t need any help with the shipping? I can stay for a few extra days to help.” He shook his head with a smile.

“If you miss this flight, you'll have less time to settle into your new apartment. You'll end up being disoriented and I don't want that for you." He came over to you and looked around your empty room. It hadn’t been empty in almost twenty years and seeing it this empty made you feel sentimental.

“I’m going for a walk.” You told your father. He was staring at your empty bedroom as well and it took him a moment before your words registered to him.

You made your way out of your house, digging your hands into the pocket of your sweatpants as you walked towards the park. The only thing lighting your way were the streetlamps and the moonlight. Out of a small sliver of hope, you let your pastel pink footprints paint the pavement of the park. Maybe your soulmate had returned. Maybe you would meet them before you left.

You sat on the bench of the park, looking up at the starry sky and waited. Inside, you were hoping your soulmate would show up and maybe you would finally meet them. So, you waited. The minutes went by, the clouds slowly moving across the sky and nothing but the silence of the night keeping you company as you waited.

You looked down to your feet and turned around to look at your trail of footprints. No one was coming. Defeated, you made your way back home to prepare yourself for the move.

You woke up on the big day staring at your ceiling and your heart beating so fast you were sure you were going to explode. You were so nervous. Your nerves were only building up further as you got ready to head to the airport.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” Your father soothed as he drove, “This is a big step for you and I’m proud of you for doing this.” His words came out gentle and you knew you wouldn’t have mustered up the courage to accept the job offer if your father wasn’t there for you. When you were worried about leaving him alone, he encouraged you to do it. “Maybe I can get myself stationed in Korea instead. My company has an office there.” He chuckled and you smiled at the idea of bringing him along with you.

“You still don’t think I might have rushed into this?” You questioned softly, the doubt clinging onto your heart.

“I know for a fact that your mother would call you a baby for doubting yourself.” He joked. You turned to face him and giggled.

“She really would.” You let out a soft sigh as memories of your mother filled your mind, “I miss her.”

“What happens in the past, stays in the past, (Y/n). But, your mother will be alive for as long as we remember her,” Your father added softly just as he stopped at the airport. The two of you stepped out of the car and pulled your luggage out of the trunk. Instead of going straight in, you stared at the doors to the airport hesitantly. “I’ll be fine, (Y/n).” Your father placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug.

“I know you will. I think I’m just scared.” You shakily chuckled as you hugged him back. The two of you stayed in each other’s embrace for a bit longer before it was time for you to leave. You bid him goodbye before stepping into the airport. As you checked in your luggage, you glanced behind you to see your pink footprints trailing behind you.

It didn’t hurt for you to leave them even if it was at the airport. Just as you were about to go through immigrations, a pair of baby blue footprints caught your eye. Your eyes widened as you stared at the footprints in disbelief. You made your way over to the trail and placed your foot over them.

You felt your heart drop as realisation struck you. Your soulmate was in Thailand and they had been at the airport. Your eyes followed the trail as it led out of the airport. Should you follow them? You argued with yourself as you stared at the footsteps. There was no knowing how far the footsteps would take you. There was the risk that if you followed them, you would end up missing your flight and would end up stressing out over it instead. If you followed the footprints, you would find your soulmate.

You made the decision. Turning around, you made your way to the immigration gates. You were bound to meet your soulmate at some point, but you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.

»»————-　　————-««

You stood outside the company building, looking up at it. Your legs were trembling from the nerves. You took a deep breath before walking into the building, following the instructions from the email to make your way up to the third floor and make your way to one of the practice rooms. You stepped into the empty lift, watching as the doors closed only for an arm to poke through, stopping the doors. You jumped backwards from the sudden arm and let out a yelp. The doors reopened to reveal a very tall man looking at you with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” The man quickly apologised when he saw you. His long legs stepped into the lift, a slightly shorter man following behind him. You moved further into the corner of the lift, giving the two of them a small smile as the doors closed. By how handsome they both were, you could only assume they were idols.

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” One of them spoke up. His words were left in the air for a moment before your mind actually registered he was talking to you.

“O-Oh, today’s my first day. I’m one of the new managers for GOT7.” You replied, turning to the two.

The taller man perked up, “Oh!” He turned his entire body to face you. “You’re our new manager then.” He smiled, “I’m Yugyeom.”

“I’m Mark,” The other man smiled as well.

“I’m (Y/n).” You introduced, bowing slightly as you did.

“How old are you?” Yugyeom questioned.

“I’m 23.” You told them just as the doors to the lift opened.

“Are you heading to the practice rooms? Mark hyung and I are heading there now,” He said as he stepped out of the lift. You nodded silently and followed them down the hallway until you reached said practice room. You took note of their bright yellow and dark red footprints as you trailed behind them. The three of you stepped in, their three other managers already there along with a few other men you assumed were the rest of GOT7.

“You must be (Y/n).” One of the managers smiled when he saw you step in. He was the only manager you knew the name of because he had actually messaged you privately to let you know more about being your job. “This is GOT7. All of the members are nice - they may scare you at first - but you’ll warm up to them soon,” Hyunsik introduced, gesturing to the group. "Everyone, this is your new manager." He gestured his hand for you to introduce yourself.

"O-oh." You took a step forward, all six of the members watching you with wide smiles. "I'm (Y/n)." You gave them a shy wave and that seemed to be some kind of cue for them. One of them immediately came up to you, his big brown puppy-like eyes reassuringly striking.

"How old are you?" He questioned.

"I'm 23." You answered. To be honest, being in the room that was the beginning of your career was extremely nerve-wracking. The fact you were working for six handsome idols just made it more so.

Another of the members came up to you as well, placing his hand on the other's shoulder, as if to tell him to calm down and scolded him softly, "You might scare her, Jackson. Are you Korean?" He questioned in which you shook your head.

"I've lived in Thailand my whole life. I moved here because of the job." You explained and Yugyeom seemed to light up.

"Thailand?" You nodded.

"What colour are your footprints?" The one who you assumed was named Jackson asked.

"Uhm, pastel pink…?" You weren't sure why they wanted to know but you showed them nonetheless. You took a few steps forward and let the colour trail behind you.

"Is it the same?" You heard one of them whisper to Yugyeom who shrugged.

"Do you know anyone who's soulmate has pink footprints? My soulmate's footprints disappeared when I was high school." You explained and all of them seemed to hold an expression you couldn't exactly read.

"Was it in Thailand?" Mark questioned and you nodded. They turned to each other and from the way Yugyeom raised his eyebrows questioningly at his other members, you could only assume they were communicating telepathically. You stood there awkwardly as you watched one of them turn to the other managers behind you, seemingly to communicate with them as well.

Hyunsik took a step towards you, “(Y/n), do you know what colour your soulmate’s footprints are?”

"Baby blue." Your statement seemed to excite the other members. "Why?" You turned to him in slight confusion.

"Well, one of their members isn't actually here." He started. "As of right now, BamBam is back in Thailand." Your whole body tensed. Did you see him without knowing? Impossible. If he was your soulmate, you would've heard his heartbeat if he was nearby. "He's apparently looking for his soulmate, and according to the members, his soulmate has pink footprints and he has blue footprints." You throat went dry

"When did he fly back?" You questioned anxiously.

"He landed two days ago." Oh god. That means it could've been his footprints you saw at the airport.

You couldn’t help but feel more anxious as they stood there. “Do you know when he’s coming back?” You questioned, your voice coming out softer than you intended it to.

“He’s coming back in two weeks.” Mark replied. Two weeks; you could wait that long to find out. You had already been waiting for your soulmate for years, so two weeks wouldn’t be much of a problem.

»»————-　　————-««

Two weeks was absolute hell, but GOT7 made it a hell of a lot easier. Although their constant descriptions of this mysterious BamBam weren’t helping, they were making it easier and more lighthearted. You had learned all of their names by the second day, and they had shown you just how chaotic they could be after the first week.

Their leader, Im Jaebeom, was quiet for the first few days. You assumed maybe it was because there was a new presence in the room, but it didn’t take him long to warm up to you. You actually thought he was a bit intimidating at first. His gaze was always sharp and whenever you asked him anything, he would give you a short answer. It was only after he had warmed up to you that he was more open to talking to you. He was really nice to you. If he saw you looked like you were struggling, he’d talk to you and play you some of his songs to help calm your nerves. Jaebeom left no footprints. Apparently, he had already met his soulmate a year before and he had no need to leave his footprints unless he was in a crowded place with them.

You were quick to warm up to Jackson Wang, though. He radiated a very jovial and warm aura. He would always be the first to greet you whenever you’d come in. Even when he was the most focused, he’d still be able to notice the door to the room opening. He was quick to notice whenever you were having a bad day and whenever he did, he would crack a joke to try and cheer you up. If jokes weren’t working, he’d buy you food or - like Jaebeom - would play you one of their songs to try and help lighten your mood. Jackson also left no footprints. He met his soulmate when he was in college.

Kim Yugyeom was also easy to get to know. He was a bit shy at first, but he was still the first member of GOT7 that you spoke to. He explained that you looked so nervous in the lift, he was scared you were going to faint. After he was more comfortable with you, he would ask you how his dancing was. He seemed to trust your opinion a lot. Yugyeom left many yellow footprints. He had yet to find his soulmate.

Mark Tuan was shy. That was the first thing you noticed after his talent. He was very shy and very quiet in the first week. It took him longer to warm up to you. He was always quiet around you and it always seemed like he was scared of talking to you at first. Though, you realised he was actually quite brazen around people he was comfortable with. Although he had already met his soulmate, Mark still left red footprints. He told you he felt weird looking behind to see no footprints.

Choi Youngjae. Sunshine was all you could use to describe him. Everything about him just seemed bright. His voice was amazing, his laugh was extremely contagious and his smile would lighten up your day. He was shy as well, but not as much as Mark or Jaebeom. You noticed that once he had started full blown laughing, he had grown comfortable around you. Youngjae had no footprints. His soulmate would watch his dog whenever he was working.

Park Jinyoung scared the living soul out of you for the first week. You never knew what he was thinking and you couldn’t tell when he was joking. You realised he was still relatively quiet around his members, but he never looked uncomfortable. Whenever you thought he was sad, he would start laughing instead. Whenever you thought he was angry, he would tell you his face just looks like that. His resting bitch face really did not help because it felt like he was constantly judging each and every one of your moves. Though, you did realise that he was comfortable with you once he started complimenting your work. He told you he was scared that you were intimidated and would downplay his nonchalance whenever he spoke to you. Jinyoung left no footprints. His soulmate was the CEO of a makeup line.

Throughout your adventure of trying not to let your energy drain whenever you were around them, you learned that they were all absolute sweethearts. They all seemed to have different questions everyday. They would ask you about schedules, your well being or just throw in random things to start conversations.

“Manager-nim, your footprints are really cute,” Yugyeom pointed out one day. You looked up from their schedule with a flustered look. “We don’t see any pink footprints around the building, so it’s nice to see them now.” He smiled. You blushed and covered your face with the paper.

“What are we doing today?” Jackson questioned the next day.

“Uh,” You looked through the schedule. They didn’t really have much else to do other than practicing for their upcoming comeback. “It’s mostly practice for DYE.” You hummed as you set the paper down onto the desk by the sound system.

“Have you eaten?” Jaebeom asked the day after. You looked up from your phone and shook your head, adjusting your legs to a more comfortable position as you sat on the floor.

“I woke up late today.” You muttered as you turned back down to your phone. The managers were discussing the schedules for the next week and you were in charge of making sure there was enough time for the members to rest in between schedules.

“You’re not hungry?” Youngjae asked as he sat himself beside you. You absentmindedly shook your head as you looked through the calendar Hyunsik had sent you.

“It’s almost lunch time.” Yugyeom pointed out. You looked up once again from your phone to see all six of them sitting around you with concerned looks on their faces.

“Even if you woke up late, it’s not good to miss breakfast.” Jinyoung added. The others nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t have much time today,” You shrugged, turning back to look at your phone. “I’ll get something to eat later.” You reassured them. Your words seemed to have no meaning to them as Mark and Youngjae got up from the floor and left the dance studio. You didn’t think much of it until they returned fifteen minutes later with bags of food, setting them down in front of you.

“You should eat, manager-nim.” Youngjae urged. You looked up at him in shock and watched as they all started pulling the containers of jjajangmyeon out of the bags. Jackson handed one of the containers to you.

“Have you ever had jjajangmyeon?” Mark questioned when he saw you eyeing the noodles curiously. You shook your head and Youngjae helped open yours.

“You have to mix the black bean sauce into the noodles.” He explained as he opened his own sauce container and dumped it into the noodles. You followed exactly as he did, mixing the sauce into the thick noodles before scooping a serving into your mouth.

“Is it good?” Yugyeom questioned, watching your reaction intently. It was surprisingly sweet and it seemed to be exactly what you needed to lighten your mood. You continued to eat with the group. You hadn’t realised just how hungry you were until after you had scarfed down all of your noodles and some of the fried dumplings they had gotten.

“How are you feeling, manager-nim?” Jaebeom asked with a soft chuckle when he saw you stretch your arms out over your head.

“Much better. Thank you, guys.” You let out a content sigh and smiled at them.

“Don’t skip your breakfast next time, okay?” Jinyoung advised and you nodded obediently.

And that was how your days with them would go. There was never a dull moment around them. Even while they were practicing - whether it be dancing or singing - you could see just how passionate they were with their music. If they realised you were thinking about BamBam, they would try and show you anything that would cheer you up - or they would talk about him more.

“Manager-nim, are you thinking about BamBam again?” Jaebeom questioned when he noticed how you were staring blankly towards the wall of the recording studio. You blinked a few times before looking up to see him, Yugyeom and Jinyoung watching you.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, embarrassed that they had actually caught you lost in thought. “O-Oh, it’s nothing to worry about.” You shook your head.

“Do you want to know more about him?” Jinyoung’s voice came out from the speakers as he looked at you through the glass of the vocal booth.

Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head, “N-No, it’s okay. We might be behind schedule if we stop.” You waved your hand at them but Jaebeom and Yugyeom pulled their headphones off, scooting their chairs closer to the couch you were sitting on.

“We haven’t taken a break since we started this morning. We can spare a few minutes.” Jaebeom shrugged. You watched with wide eyes as Jinyoung stepped out of the vocal booth and into the control room to sit himself beside you. Yugyeom pulled his phone out, thinking that maybe the best way to introduce BamBam to you was a video of him dancing in front of one of his cats.

“BamBam has four cats. This is Cupcake,” He stated and you watched in amusement as BamBam pretty much busted it down in front of the cat, Yugyeom and Youngjae’s laughter filling up the apartment and mixing with whatever Chris Brown song was playing; you couldn’t tell what it was from the laughing.

“Do you guys just… dance in front of it like that?” You questioned, trying to stifle your laughter.

“Yugyeom and BamBam do.” Jaebeom joked, “This is why I don’t let them into my apartment. They would scare my babies.”

You turned to Jaebeom, “You have cats as well?” You questioned and he nodded.

“We all have our own pets except for Jinyoung hyung and Jackson hyung.” Yugyeom spoke up.

“Jackson has a plant.” Jinyoung added with a chuckle. You listened to them as they told you more about BamBam. He was the same age as you and Yugyeom, and he was also from Thailand. According to Yugyeom, he had flown back to look for his soulmate. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. It didn’t help that you were already waiting for his arrival, but all you had to do was wait for a few more days.

»»————-　　————-««

Gyeommie:

Bam, there’s a surprise for you when you get here [10:43]

Crazy Bam:

And that is? [10:43]

Gyeommie:

You’ll see [10:44]

BamBam stared at his phone in confusion. Did his members get him something? At the time, he honestly didn’t really give much of a care. His two weeks in Thailand were uneventful - and as much as he loved being with his family, he still wished he could’ve met his soulmate.

BamBam was at the airport, getting ready to fly back into Seoul and continue the practice for their comeback. He wondered if he would’ve found his soulmate if he had flown back to Thailand earlier. The footsteps only seemed to disappear the day he landed. He saw them at the park, but after they had faded, he hadn’t seen them at all.

The flight back gave BamBam a headache. He was used to flying long hours, but all he wanted to do was get home, take a nap in his bed and snuggle up with his cats. As promised, Mark came to pick BamBam up from the airport, the younger member immediately dozing off the moment he sat down.

Mark knew that the moment he got into the car, he hadn’t had any good news. If it wasn’t the immediate knock out, it was how frustrated BamBam looked before he fell asleep. Throughout the drive, Mark couldn’t help but wonder whether you and BamBam were soulmates. He wasn’t sure how the both of you would react since it seemed that you both left Korea for work and that you were both worried your soulmates were still in Thailand.

Mark parked the car by the curb, reaching over to slightly shake BamBam awake, “Bam, we’re here.” His eyes fluttered open and he looked around for a moment before reaching his arms out to stretch. BamBam relaxed in the seat for a moment before he sat up.

“Thanks for the ride, hyung.” He muttered out tiredly.

“Do you need me to help you carry your stuff up?” Mark questioned.

BamBam shook his head with a smile, “I can manage.” He stepped out of the car, pulling his luggage out of the trunk and dragging himself up his apartment building. The first thing he heard was a soft ‘meow’ coming from Latte; his mood immediately lighting up. “Hey, baby.” He cooed as he crouched down to greet his cat son. The rest of his cat babies approached him, excited to see their cat dad home.

The cats followed him as he dragged his luggage to his bedroom, setting it aside and making a mental note to unpack after his nap. BamBam plopped himself onto his bed, his cats quickly surrounding him on the bed as he slowly dozed off.

»»————-　　————-««

You pushed open the door to the conference room, lifting the bags in your hands, “Tada!” The entire group turned at the sound of your voice, eyes widening and faces lighting up at the sight of the plastic bags in your hands.

“Wah! What did you bring us, manager-nim?” Jaebeom questioned with sparkling eyes. You placed the bags onto the table, pulling out containers of ramen.

“You guys looked a bit stressed out, so I went out and brought back some ramen for everyone.” They quickly surrounded you, eyeing the plastic containers. “I even got low-carb for Jackson,” You pulled out the container and turned around to place it in his awaiting hands.

“Thanks, manager-nim!” Yugyeom grinned widely as he sat at his own seat, pulling open the cover.

“You guys have a full day of just dance practice, so eat up.” You hummed and pulled out your own serving. You realised that whenever they ate, Jaebeom, Jinyoung and Mark went quiet - you assumed their focus was completely on their food - while Yugyeom, Youngjae and Jackson would chat.

Mark spoke up from his seat beside you, “Manager-nim.” You turned to him with a questioning look. “BamBam’s back in Seoul. Are you nervous?” His question caught you off guard. You had tried not to think about it much in the past few days since you weren’t exactly keen on the thought of BamBam making you too distracted to work.

“I mean... “ You trailed off and turned away from him only to realise all of them had quiet down to look at you. “I don’t even know if he’s my soulmate or not. For all we know, he’s not. Plus, it’s not like I’m seeing him until tomorrow.” You shrugged and scooped some noodles into your mouth.

You noticed Yugyeom sharing a glance with Youngjae, but you didn’t think much of it. You moved into the dance room with them, watching from the side with Hyunsik as they danced.

“You’ve been fine these past few weeks, right?” He questioned as he turned to you.

You nodded and glanced over at him, “They’ve been treating me well. It didn’t take too much for me to get used to how everything was.”

“I don’t think they wanted to tell you, but BamBam is on the way, right now.” He muttered and you swear there was a record scratch in your mind.

“He- what?!” You stared at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“They asked him to come in today.” He clarified and you felt yourself starting to panic. Wait, why were you panicking in the first place? You didn’t even know if BamBam was your soulmate. But, if he was? That would mean you would finally be meeting your soulmate.

Oh fuck, wait.

If he was your soulmate, then you weren’t ready. But if he wasn’t, you still weren’t ready. When you came back to earth, you were sure Hyunsik probably heard your thoughts because he was quick to speak again, “I don’t want to alarm you, but while you were thinking, BamBam texted me to tell you he’s already in the building.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” You felt your heartbeat picking up even more, beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears. Actually, wait, that wasn’t your heart. The beating in your ears wasn’t in sync with the beating in your chest. The beating in your ears got louder and louder and that was when you realised that it was him.

The door to the dance studio opened and you immediately stood up, turning to face the door just as BamBam walked in, looking down at the pastel pink footprints that you had left in the corridor. His heartbeat rang violently in your ears when he looked around the room before his eyes locked with yours. You both took steps closer to each other, a tingling sensation starting to run from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.

The blue glow from BamBam’s blue footprints was all you needed to convince you that he really was your soulmate. You continued to stare at each other, the presence of his group as well as Hyunsik started to fade away as you were only aware of each other.

BamBam was the first to speak up, “You were in Thailand while I was here, and you were here while I was in Thailand.” You nodded slowly, still unable to believe that he was standing right in front of you. Your eyes moved down to his hands and you reached out, taking his right hand in yours. Your heart started to bubble with love and you looked back up to his eyes.

“It’s really you.” You breathed out softly and BamBam nodded, his fingers interlacing with yours. Suddenly, you could see everything about him. You saw his memories, you saw the years that he had been through; you saw him. You didn’t know why, but your eyes started to water.

It seemed that he saw you as well because his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. You could practically feel the joy and wonder that he felt as he stepped closer. BamBam’s hand moved to cup your cheek and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. Your lips molded together perfectly, your body starting to become overwhelmed by a warm sense of love.

BamBam pulled away with the widest smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, “I’ve finally found you.” Your body relaxed in his embrace, his face burying into the crook of your neck as tears were pouring from your eyes. His touch was comforting on your skin and the feeling of his arms wrapped around you felt so right. BamBam’s hands suddenly came to your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears, “No, baby, I’m so sorry I left before finding you.” His eyes held pure guilt.

You quickly shook your head as you held onto his wrists, “No, I’m okay.” You smiled and hugged him again, “It was worth it. You are worth it.” It took a while before BamBam’s body relaxed, but when it did, his arms were wrapped around you once again.

Unfortunately, your moment was quickly ruined.

“Awwwww,” Jinyoung cooed, the two of you pulling apart when you remembered there were more people in the room. You both turned just in time to see Jaebeom punch his shoulder, a grumble leaving his lips about how he should’ve let you have your moment. “No one gave Jade and I our moment when we met,” He retaliated.

BamBam argued with a laugh, “You guys met right before she had to go up and give a speech!” The group erupted in laughter, all of them glad to finally see BamBam return to his normal self. He turned back to you, pulling you to his side, “I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a handful.” You let out a soft laugh.

“It’s okay. I spent two weeks learning about your group, I don’t mind spending forever learning more about you.”

#kwritersworldnet #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 drabbles #got7 oneshot #bambam got7 #bambam imagines #bambam scenarios #bambam drabbles #bambam onshot #got7 soulmate au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop drabbles #kpop oneshot #kpop soulmate au

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thanks--for--listening · 3 years

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figments of the dark

yes i read all the grishaverse books after watching the show yes i’ve now written kanej fic yes they’re my dream couple no i’m not okay mentally. SPOILERS FOR CROOKED KINGDOM this fic takes place right after it.

(also on ao3)

She kept pace with him initially. Walking down to the harbor, he watched as the Suli couple moved closer and closer, the details of their appearance materializing with each step. The gray of the man’s hair creeping in at the edges. The woman’s long braid lying gracefully over her shoulder. Their hands clasped together, tugging each other along as the distance between them and their daughter disappeared. Inej was nearly jumping out of her own skin, but she stayed by his side, only breaking into a sprint when there was nothing but a few feet separating them. It was the most impressive feat of strength he’d seen from her. From anyone, if he was being honest.

They swallowed her whole. Neither were particularly tall, but they towered over her nonetheless, their arms wrapping effortlessly around her delicate frame. As he stepped closer, he could hear them amidst the sobs, the prayers usually whispered under Inej’s breath now spoken loudly and without reservation. Their foreignness was familiar. Kaz might not have cared for gods or saints, for myths and legends, but the sound of their devotion still soothed his racing heart.

He stood back as they held one another. A feeling deep in his gut ignited softly, a spark burning in isolation: not strong enough to turn into a flame, but with enough heat to leave a scar. It wasn’t resentment — he would have given anything for her to have this moment, would have let the rest of the world crumble around them if that’s what it cost — but an aftertaste of something else lingered as he watched them. No matter how often he won, how deft defying the odds or complicated the scheme, he’d never have anyone waiting for him when the dust settled. Not like Inej did. Not like Jesper did. His victories had long been celebrated in solitude, and he’d come to terms with that years ago.

Still, the feeling seemed to whisper, a voice in his head that sounded like someone he knew. Still.

“Kaz!” He blinked the thoughts away, straightened his back as they walked toward him. “Mama, Papa, this is Kaz Brekker. He’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

“Your daughter paints me in a better light than I deserve.” He looked at her as he added, “No one has ever protected me the way she has.”

Their eyes were locked, and he saw it again. One of the first lessons Ketterdam had taught him was to read faces as if they were words on a page. Any hand could be won, any man could be manipulated, if one could learn to see beneath the surface. Nobody could hide forever. Their hearts would give them away every time.

Now he was grateful for the lesson. Not for the victories it had led to, or the money he’d won, but for the undeniable truth of what he saw. Adoration. When Inej looked at him, it was as if the entire harbor floated away, and all that was left were the tears in her eye and the smile on her face. It didn’t matter that the real joy had come from her parents; he would use any excuse to be on the other end of that look, regardless of whether he deserved it.

Kaz didn’t even notice her father until Inej stuck her arm out, spoke in quick and hushed Suli. He didn’t have to know the language to understand — Mr. Ghafa had moved to embrace him, until Inej stood in the way. Kaz had been lost in the endless depths of her eyes, drawn to them like a sailor to a siren, so fixated he would have drowned rather than tear his gaze away. Inej, his better in every way that mattered and every way that didn’t, had never lost sight of the world around them. Even now, when the threat came in the form of a grateful father, when her focus should have been at its weakest, she was still protecting him.

He wanted to tell her that he would take it. The touch, and the revulsion that came with it. The gratitude he’d done nothing to earn. He would suffer any pain, subject himself to all kinds of agony, play whatever character she wanted, even the farm boy he knew had died in that river. He would hunt the world for her wretched saints and construct an altar of his own, if it kept that smile on her face.

“Thank you,” her mother said, the words still muddled by the tears that had yet to stop. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Safety didn’t exist in Ketterdam, and it certainly wasn’t what he’d given her when he’d taken her out of that Menagerie, but he kept his mouth shut, nodded curtly. That wasn’t his story to tell.

“Every day, we searched,” her father said. “They told us to give up. They said you were lost, that those who took you would never let you go. They said you wouldn’t make it no matter where you’d gone, but we said no. Our Inej has angels on her shoulders and wings on her back. She can survive anything.”

If she hadn’t been before, Inej was crying now. With every passing moment, Kaz felt more and more like an intruder. He wondered if it was some sort of retribution for each time he’d sent her to creep in through someone’s window, to become the audience they weren’t aware of. How much had he learned from her being privy to moments like this, so intimate and exposed? What had it cost her to push back the guilt that came with the encroachment?

“I can,” she said. “But I didn’t have to do it alone.”

He listened half-heartedly as she told them about Wylan and Jesper and Nina. The house she was staying in, with a staff and a view and a life that was much more palatable to those unfamiliar with the stench of the Barrel. Painting over their history was effortless with those kinds of tools. The only question was how long it could last.

As they began walking, he forced his face into neutrality, buried any evidence of the thoughts that ran through his mind. They would have to find out eventually. Perhaps not all of it, and ideally not all at once, but in due time the truth would become unavoidable. They spoke of survival as if it was an honorable thing, but where that ship had taken Inej, only those with the sharpest of claws and malleable of morals made it out alive. Dirtyhands may have become his title, but nobody around here could claim cleanliness. Not even the dead.

The path made itself clear, the flip of the final card coming to him with striking clarity. A death blow delivered by the river, turning a winning hand into a losing one in a single fluid motion. They had been looking for their lost child, for a little girl who only ever pushed the limits in a performance. But the secret to the Dregs was that everyone was already dead. They may have called themselves Crows, but like phoenixes born from the ashes of their old lives, rebirth was an entry level requirement. Whoever they’d gone searching for, the Ghafa’s had found someone else. He didn’t know when they’d realize it, when they’d look at their daughter and see a stranger in her place, but he knew the moment would come. And for the first time in his short and miserable life, Kaz longed to be wrong.

Tuning back into the conversation, he caught the tail end of a list of relatives, each one having done their own part in trying to find her. Inej stood in between them as they walked. Kaz let himself fall back just slightly, a pace behind theirs. It was as much privacy as he could give out on the street. Things may have improved for the Dregs in the past few weeks, but that didn’t mean people weren’t still watching, waiting to find them in a moment of weakness, waiting for their chance to steal the throne Kaz and his crew had built from nothing.

“We’ll send a letter as soon as we make it to your friends’ home. Nobody knew what to believe when the messenger came to us with news about you. Half the family were convinced this was all a scam, a ruse to kidnap us as well.”

“Your aunts will start planning the celebration before we even board the ship home,” her mother said with a smile. The tears had eased up, replaced with effortless joy and comfort. “Preparing the food will take half the length of the trip, at least.”

Inej let out a moan. “Nobody in Ketterdam knows how to cook properly.”

Her mother’s smile grew, something he hadn’t thought was possible. “Anything you want, I’ll make. Saints willing, I’ll be cooking for you for the rest of my life.”

“You’re in for a treat,” her father added. “Ever since the circus ended, your mother has been cooking non-stop. Everything will be better than you remember.”

“Wait,” her eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean, the circus ended?”

The smiles faded. “We tried,” he said, his voice tainted with the somber weight of grief that grew heavier over time. “But how could we go on without our star? How could we look to the sky and see someone else walking amongst the clouds?”

“It wasn’t fair,” her mother said softly. “To the family. They needed the performances to survive, but we…we needed every moment to search for you. We needed you to survive.”

They’d slowed their pace, and even though he slowed with them, they now stood nearly side by side. Kaz left a gap the size of a person between him and her father in a pathetic and slightly selfish attempt at disappearing. He’d have pulled an Inej and evaporated altogether, had she not asked him to stay.

“I’m sorry,” Inej said, and he couldn’t see her face clearly but he could hear the tears in her voice.

“For what, zheji?”

“For being the reason you stopped. Performing was our lives. It was everything you’d worked toward.”

“Inej, you are our lives. You are more important than any stage or crowd. You are worth more than any money in the world.” Her mother stopped walking, grabbed hold of her face as she said, “I would walk away from the circus a thousand times if it meant you were safe.”

Inej just nodded. The feeling snuck in again, quick and quiet and sharp; he forced it back down as they started walking again. He refused to let his pitiful, despicable nature ruin any part of this moment for her.

“And who knows?” Her father said, the cheer in his voice somehow both authentic and artificial. “Once you come home, maybe we can put the show back on the road. Perform as a family again.”

Oh. So this was the moment. He’d known it was a possibility when he’d made the deal, but his mind had refused to accept it. The life he led required foresight, examining every outcome for every choice, but he hadn’t found the strength to prepare for this ending: the moment she left.

His step staggered ever so slightly. It shouldn’t have been noticeable, shouldn’t have disrupted the rhythm of their walk, but like a conductor trained to spot the lone instrument out of tune, Inej turned. She stared first at the ground in front of him, then brought her gaze up. Met his. An inquisitive look flashed across her face, as if she was searching for the disruption. Or perhaps she was searching for something else.

He tried to school his features into something legible, to show her the answer she was looking for. The permission, although it wasn’t his to give. The forgiveness, although there was no guilt to absolve. Even when he wanted to fall onto his hands and knees and beg her to stay; even when the thought of her living across the true sea made the air around him grow thicker and his lungs smaller, made breathing a painful, labored thing. He nodded his head slightly even when every nerve in his body fought against it, because if there was anyone who deserved to turn their back on Ketterdam and leave it all behind, it was her. If leaving was what made her happy, he’d send her off without a single word of protest. If she wanted to fly on her own land, on her own accord, who was he to ground her, to tie her wings for the sake of his own spoiled heart?

Inej didn’t say anything, but the look on her face…Kaz wasn’t one to cling to hope, but he grasped desperately to her reluctance, to the way she bit her lip and kept her eyes away from her parents. Even if she also kept them away from him.

—

Jesper had a thousand questions.

He’d spent half of dinner begging the Ghafas for stories about Inej as a child, and the other half endlessly praising Mrs. Ghafa’s cooking. Kaz couldn’t fault him for the latter — Inej and her mother had spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, and what they’d come out with was quite easily the best meal he’d ever had. The way they managed to extract flavors he’d never tasted before from the ingredients he’d had at his disposal for years was an art form in itself, one that rivaled even his own general resourcefulness. And the smell. Envy reared its ugly head at the thought of Wylan and Jesper getting to enjoy the lingering scent long after the meal had been devoured.

“We had a guest faint during one of her performances.” Her father was telling the story with the same enthusiasm as he had with every one that came before. Where Inej was silent and still, her father was big and bold, every move exaggerated and every word announced rather than spoken. Kaz wondered whether it had always been her nature, or whether he was witnessing what Inej might have been had she not been forced into the shadows.

“Faint? Because of Inej?”

“Oh, yes. You see, we realized that we couldn’t make it look too easy. Not that it was easy, of course, but when Inej walks that rope, it looks effortless. So we staged a wobble, a moment for her to pretend to lose her balance. Oh, the way people panicked! They’d hold their breaths and try to hide their eyes, but none of them could ever look away, not until she made it to the other side.”

“Was the woman who passed out okay?” Wylan asked.

Her father shook his head. “You misunderstand. Women never looked away. They stared with intensity, as if their eyes could carry her to safety. The poor man collapsed right there in the front row.”

“He didn’t even see the rest of my act,” Inej added. “That’s the real travesty.”

“Maybe he’ll come back and see how it ends once you’re home.” Kaz saw it again, the feeling streaking across her face like a runaway star. Only this time, it wasn’t reluctance: it was guilt.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what, zheji?”

The first words had come out softly, but when Inej looked up at her father, she spoke with the determination that Kaz had grown used to. “I can’t stay. I can’t rejoin the circus.”

“So you’re out of practice. It’s nothing a little time can’t fix! You have magic in you, Inej. That doesn’t just go away.”

“No,” she said. “I can’t rejoin the circus because I have to come back. Here, to Ketterdam.”

Her mother reached across the table, put her hands in her own. “They took you against your will. Against our will. Whoever stole you can’t stop us from taking you home. Nobody can keep you here anymore.”

“No,” she said, “you’re not hearing me. I want to go home. I want to see the family, to spend time with you. But I also want to come back.”

“I don’t understand,” her father said, and Kaz could hear the desperation creeping into his voice. “What could a place like this possibly have that would be worth leaving your family? Leaving your home?”

“Papa, it’s not about leaving you.” Jesper was practically bouncing out of his own skin, and Wylan’s eyes scoured the room in search of anything else to look at, but Kaz kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of them. A part of him knew the noble thing, the polite thing, would be to silently excuse himself, to give the Ghafas this moment alone. But Inej had started it with them there, and Kaz didn’t have the willpower to walk away before he heard her answer.

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about everyone else.” Inej spoke with fervor, impassioned with purpose and righteousness. It fit her better than being a spider ever had. “There are hundreds of little girls and boys going through exactly what I did. Only they don’t get rescued. They don’t have anyone looking out for them.” She spared a quick glance his way; he pretended not to notice. “I can’t go home while they suffer.”

“So it is us who should suffer, then?”

Inej groaned. “Mama, that isn’t fair and you know it.”

“Life isn’t fair,” her father said. “The world is full of terrible people, Inej. You can’t—“

“Trust me when I say I know the terrors of both men and women alike.” Venom had slipped into her voice. Kaz watched the shock slowly register across her parents’ faces, watched as they blinked at the girl who had replaced their daring but soft-spoken daughter. He wondered when they’d truly process her words. Back in Ravka? On the boat home? Maybe it would come while they lay awake tonight, dreams poisoned by the realization that some version of their worst nightmare had come true. That even though she stood in front of them now, seemingly all in one piece, Ketterdam had still taken something from her, and nothing they ever did could give it back.

“I only meant to say,” her father continued, his tone shifting into something gentler, “that this battle is one you’ll likely never win. There’s no end to greed. Not in this lifetime. Perhaps not even in the next. Every enemy you defeat, every man you force into accountability, will only be replaced by two more looking to use his failure as a stepping stone.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to adjust my aim. Target the root and not the weeds.”

“Why?” Her mother groaned, frustration and terror written all over her face. “Why does it have to be you? Someone else can save the world. Someone else’s daughter can play the hero. Why can’t you just come home?”

“Who, Mama? Who’s gonna save them if not me? Who’s going to watch out for them when their families are told they’re dead and nobody else comes looking?” She turned toward her father. “I know it’s a losing hand. But I’m not the same person I was before. I know how to win with anything now, how to bend the rules so they work in my favor.”

“But you don’t have to,” he begged.

“If nobody ever tries, nothing gets better. I have to try, Papa. I owe them at least that much. I owe myself that much.”

The silence spread quickly. He knew there was nothing in the air, but the tension felt like a gas leak, like one spark could set the whole house ablaze. Kaz watched the way they stared across the table, each waiting for the other to break first but neither one wanting to watch them burn. Even if he hadn’t been a betting man, he would have known who to back in this fight of wills. Whether on the ground or in the air, Inej would hold steady. If nothing else, he could count on that.

Jesper clapped his hands, the sound echoing across the room that felt both overwhelmingly big and suffocatingly small. “So! Who’s up for a little music?”

—

Kaz found her exactly where he expected to. The sound of Wylan’s piano faded as he cracked open the window, pulling himself up onto the roof even when his leg throbbed in protest.

Inej didn’t move, didn’t do anything to acknowledge his presence. She didn’t have to — she always knew where he was, just as he did her. Climbing up to her perch, he let the sounds of the city surround them. It never mattered what time of day it was: someone in Ketterdam was always awake, and therefore, no one was ever truly alone.

“They don’t believe me,” she said softly. He fought the urge to turn toward her; he knew that some words were more easily spoken to something rather than someone. “They think that the minute I get home, I’ll just forget about everything here.”

“Unfortunately, I think Jesper’s singing is going to be permanently ingrained in all our minds.”

He spared a quick glance, caught the corners of her mouth creeping upward. “Who needs to remember? I’m positive the sound will carry all the way across the true sea and into Ravka.”

“We should be grateful for their diminished armies, then. If they had the means, I’m positive this performance would be a worthy cause to go to war.”

She laughed then, just once, but saints the sound was enough to send electricity through his entire body. He’d start a war himself for that sound. He’d crawl into the Ice Court with nothing but his own two hands. He’d try and heal the shattered bits inside himself if it meant he got to hear her at her happiest, if he got to be the one to make her feel that way in the first place.

Kaz wanted to stay like this, to poke fun and let the future disappear, to laugh and let the hard words hide beneath the sound, but he’d never had a habit of doing what was good for him. The dead of night exposed questions that cowered in the light of day, and for all his strength, he couldn’t resist knowing the answers. “Would it be so bad? To forget this place?”

“I could never do that. Not even if I wanted to.”

“You don’t know if that’s true. Time away, back with your family, it could help. It could…heal.”

Inej finally turned toward him, the daggers in her eyes as accurate and deadly as the ones strapped to her wrists. “Do you really think you could just leave and pretend like none of this ever happened?”

Part of him wanted to lie, wanted to believe in a world where the past stayed locked in history and the future could be its own thing entirely. If not for himself, then for her. But while the sentiment may have been foreign to her parents, Kaz and Inej spoke the language of the Dregs. There was a reason people got tattooed when they joined: being a Crow wasn’t something you could ever leave behind.

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

“Exactly.” She turned forward again, stared at the city as if it could give her whatever answer she was looking for. “All night, I could feel my parents looking for a ghost. They remember a girl whose only dream in life was to walk across air, but there are other things that matter more to me than the fucking applause.” She leaned back without losing her balance. “I don’t think they’re ready to see the person I’ve become.”

“Then they’re missing out on the strongest, bravest, and most honorable person in all of Ketterdam.”

Inej raised an eyebrow at him. There was curiosity in her eyes, and behind it, something more. Something he hadn’t seen on her yet, despite spending a considerable amount of time stealing glances, soaking in the sight of her whenever he could afford to. He couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like pride. “Since when do you care for honor?”

“Since you watched me at my weakest and my worst, and still deemed me a worthy cause for devotion.” He kept his eyes on her now, emboldened by the light of the moon and the truth of his words. “You look to your saints for guidance, but I look to you. So long as you stand by me, I know I haven’t strayed too far.”

As he spoke, he carefully slipped his hand out of his glove; when the only sound left was the echo of his words around them, he reached for her hand, let his own slide into place within it. Immediately the rush came, the concoction of emotions all tangled up and twisted. He squeezed, let the pressure of her reciprocation ground him in the present and on dry land.

Pain would always come first. No matter how much time passed, no matter who he was with, Kaz wasn’t sure that would ever change. For so long the agony had held a chokehold on anything else that might come with it, suppressing desire until it was all but nonexistent. The longer they held onto one another, though, the stronger it became. Inej dulled the anguish until it was no sharper than a blunt knife, until he could feel everything else without being blinded by the blade.

Eventually, she let go, only to shift and drop her head onto his shoulder. She rested largely on his jacket, but there was a sliver, right by his neck, where their skin came together. It set his pulse on fire. It felt like exhaling. Like holding something so delicate in his hands he didn’t dare breathe and risk disturbing it. The weight of her against him sent all his senses up into disarray, and he wondered for half a second if this was what the rush of parem felt like, because with Inej leaning against him. he swore he could see, hear, feel everything. The pain all but evaporated. The world came gloriously into tune, and now that he’d heard the sweet sound it could make, Kaz wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tolerate a sour note.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the sound nearly blending into the ambiance provided by the sky above and ground below, nearly drowned by the synchronous beats of their hearts. “Thank you for bringing them back to me.”

“Anything,” he responded just as quietly. “No matter the cost nor the reason. If you ask, I’ll do anything.”

“Why?” The question was so genuine, and he wasn’t sure he had an answer. How could he possibly put into words the feeling of needing her happiness as much as he needed air to breathe? What could he give her that could show just how deeply he craved her, and how terrifying and exhilarating and all-encompassing that desire was?

“You asked me earlier about my tell,” he said after a moment. His eyes were fixed on the city in front of him, but he could feel her gaze. This time, it was he who couldn’t say the words to her face. “I gave you a half-truth. My tell, my true vulnerability, the thing that gives me away every time, is you. When you’re by my side, no one else matters. Not the rest of the team, not the job. Nothing.”

“Is that why you…?” She didn’t have to finish her thought. He knew what moments she thought of, the constant battle inside himself she became victim to. The back and forth, longing turning to avoidance that never managed to last. A cycle he had yet to fully break out of.

He nodded, just enough for her to see it. “Van Eck knew. That day he…when he threatened to kill everyone else, he set the trap that I walked right into. In the moment when we were all in peril, he followed my gaze and saw who I couldn’t afford to lose.”

“That’s funny,” she said, and he stared down at her, the confusion written all over his face. She tilted her head back slightly, just enough to look at him without breaking the contact. “Had he turned his eyes to me, he would have seen the same thing. I guess we damned each other that day.”

“It’s not funny.” He desperately tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but control was a fantasy when his mind went back to that night, to the days he spent in fear of Inej being tortured or killed or worse. “I vowed to never let anyone hurt you like that again because of me. Because of what you hurting would do to me.”

The quiet settled back in, as if it had never left, as if their conversation had already dissolved into oblivion. Her head shifted slightly, eyes turned back to the city in front of them. He longed to watch her, to search in her face for the thoughts running through her mind, but she still rested against his shoulder, and he would rather throw himself off the roof than disrupt the comfort she seemed to find there. Patience was something he’d once considered a virtue, but now it was practically nonexistent.

“We can’t control the rest of the world,” she finally said. “Nor can we stop people from coming after us. Torturing yourself to stop someone else from doing it for you doesn’t solve anything; it only guarantees pain.”

“I’m no stranger to suffering. I’d rather withstand self-inflicting wounds. Those I can control.”

“It's not just you who suffers at your own hand.” She broke apart from him, shifted her body until they were face to face. A chill settled in where her head had been.

When Inej was walking above him, traversing through territory only few could manage, he’d allowed himself to pretend she was safe. That her perch protected her from the terrors that struck on the ground. But now, sitting above the rest of the world, all he felt was exposed. He was not Inej. He had no control here; be it to the elements or his enemies, or the one who held his heart in her hands. Every part of him was vulnerable.

“When you hurt yourself, when you consign your life to misery on the basis that it’s coming anyway, you hurt me as well. When you keep your distance, I’m the one who ends up untethered. You want to protect me from suffering on your behalf, but all you're doing is delivering the death blow yourself.”

“I…I never meant—“

“I know,” she said, her voice gentle and calm and everything he’d never deserved. “But I refuse to accept that pain any longer. I can’t love you if you spend all your time demolishing yourself. I’ll go down with this ship, but I can’t stay if you’re the one poking holes in the deck.”

“You won’t have to.” He’d never been one for vows, but he spoke them now, wondered if any of her beloved saints could hear him. If they would even dare listen to someone as depraved as he. “I can’t promise a miracle. I won’t lie to you and spew falsities about changes in morality that I know are nothing more than a cheap trick of the light. You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me. So every moment you choose to stay by my side is one I’ll devote to earning it.”

A crash from below sent them both to their weapons, before the sound of raucous laughter eased their grip. Kaz wondered if they’d ever stop anticipating the fight, if that instinct normally developed at childhood’s end, or if it was simply another consequence of living in Ketterdam.

“I should probably go rescue my parents. We’ve left Jesper and Wylan to their own devices for too long.” He watched as she floated down the roof, as if the surface itself was flat and level, as if the force pulling them down to the ground was only optional. When she got to the windowsill, he expected her to disappear, but instead she stopped, hands gripping the edge of the roof. “You deserve better, too,” she told him. “Better than you’ve got. Better than you’re going to get. One day I’ll make you believe it.”

Kaz didn’t say anything, didn’t so much as breathe, not until she dropped through the window and out of sight. He stared at the spot she’d left behind. There was no trace of her, nothing he could point to to prove she was there. Only the catch in his breath and the chill on his skin.

—

It was something he’d almost gotten used to by now. The smell. Saltwater had been one of the first things he’d learned to endure. Success and revenge both relied on the seas, so he’d spent as much time by the water as he could, until he could tolerate the scent without having to empty the contents of his stomach after so much as a whiff. It had been a lesson, he’d told himself. Every time served as a reminder that in order to beat Rollins, he’d need to leave the broken child behind. He’d need to become something better. Someone new.

He didn’t know if it was the smell now that was nauseating, or the sight of the boat anchored on the harbor carrying Ravka’s double eagle flag. Inej’s parents had already begun making their way to the dock. Jesper and Wylan had given their heartfelt goodbyes back at the house; Kaz had said nothing, but followed a step behind them, just as he had upon their arrival. Inej never stopped him. He took her silence as an invitation.

They’d passed The Wraith on their walk, and now his eyes kept trying to drag him back to it. Her ship turned his body and mind into a contradiction, elicited responses that shouldn’t have coexisted. Pride and fear, joy and sorrow, guilt and righteousness. It tempted him like a puzzle he wasn’t clever enough to solve, made him think that if he just kept looking, he might be able to sort it all out. To find an answer to a question he couldn’t ever ask.

“You’ll watch over it when I’m gone?” He turned to face her, unsurprised that she followed his gaze even when the boat lay out of view.

“Of course. I don’t abandon my investments.”

“Tell Specht he can start trying to put together a potential crew while I’m away. And that he’s got the job as my first mate if he wants it.”

“I’ll pass the word along.”

“Tell him to look into the girls first. The ones from the Menagerie.”

“They may be hard to find,” he said casually. “Now that Heleen is shut down, most are scattered to the wind.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’ll have you.” Kaz raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “I know you’ve kept tabs on them. Offered a place in the Slat, a new name and fresh start. Offered them a ticket home, too, if they have one.”

“I work for The Wraith,” he said in response. “She expects me to rid the world of evil women and men. Can’t do that if the girls have nowhere else to go.”

“What a formidable employer.”

Kaz smirked. “Rumor has it she’s got heartsick fools wrapped around her pinky, and slavers and scum crushed beneath her fist.”

“Is that so?”

“If the whispers are to be believed.”

“Sounds like a handful.”

“Only for the scum.”

“And for the heartsick fools?”

Sincerity slipped back in and he let it, forgoed the smirk and the sarcasm entirely. “For them, it’s an honor.”

Her own smile faded, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake. If the price of genuity was her laughter and lack of tension in her shoulders, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to pay it. “When I return — and I will, no matter what my parents tell themselves — who am I going to find?”

He wanted to tell her that he’d be the same person she left behind. That she could dock her ship and they could walk besides one another the way they have before, that nothing had to change if they didn’t want it to. But that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. And maybe, despite his own internal protests, that wasn’t the truth, either.

For as long as Kaz Brekker had been alive, he’d had one singular purpose. Every choice and decision, every move he made, was done in service of that goal, the heist within all the heists. Brick by brick required time and diligence, so much so that it hadn’t left room for an after. It didn’t matter what name he used; the dominance, the relevance, the very existence of Pekka Rollins was never going to survive. Until the dust settled and he was still standing, Kaz didn’t think he would, either.

But here he stood. And here she stood. The waves crashed against the harbor behind her, each one with a different incentive: the threat of drowning, the promise of infinite possibilities, the rueful fate awaiting any who would seek to control them. The sea dragged out what was left inside the infamous Kaz Brekker as easily as it pulled in the tide. In its wake, a rare type of tranquility remained. He had no plan, no scheme. There was only one thing left to give.

“I’m not sure,” he told her. He prayed she could hear the truth in his words. “But I know that each time you traverse the seas, I’ll be here on the shore. And whenever and wherever you decide to land, I’ll be there. Anything you need — support, supplies, a place to lie your head — you’ll have. What’s mine is yours. It always was. It always will be.”

Inej stared at him. If they were other people, he knew this would be the time for desperate hugs, for clinging to one another in some last ditch effort to fight off the sands of time. But they weren’t other people. They were Kaz and Inej. Products of the Barrel. Broken in all the same places. And he wasn’t sure he could handle holding onto her just to let her go.

So they watched. Her eyes held the kind of radiance that the poets preached about. The wind pushed her braid back just slightly, as if it was trying to pull her toward the sea. The hilts of her knives glistened in the sun, peeking out only in places where he knew to look. If he was a religious man, he’d tell her she looked like a goddess, a deity escaped from whatever world lay beyond their own. If he followed the faith, he’d tell her that no saint, not even the one blessed with sunlight, could possibly outshine her. If he wasn’t a coward, he’d confess that he had already begun to pray for her, to beg the water to bend to her will, to keep her ship and her mission and her body and soul all in one piece.

Years of walls crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and he let them with no resistance. He wasn’t sure what she saw when she looked at him, but he hoped she could hear the words he could not say. And the selfish, undeserving part of him wished she’d feel the same.

The blaring horn from the ship fractured the moment. Neither of them flinched, but he watched her turn back, glance behind her at the vessel waiting to take her home.

“I should probably go,” she said, but her feet stayed planted, her eyes already back on him.

Courage came in the form of fear, his desperation to keep her in front of him shoving out words he hadn’t planned on saying. “When you return, who am I going to find?”

“I’m not sure.” She spoke slowly, and he wondered whether admitting it came with the same distress, the same relief, as it did for him. “But no matter what happens, I can promise you that I’ll come back. Not just to Ketterdam, or my ship. I’ll come back to you.”

“Why?” He felt sliced open just asking. No one else had ever had so many chances to destroy him without taking a single one. Part of him wondered when the shoe would drop, when the inevitable would happen and she’d turn her knife against him. How would her face look when she had his life in her hands? How long would it take her to realize he would welcome death with open arms rather than resist her? Kaz could think of no better way to die, no better way to live, than at her mercy.

“A shadow,” Inej answered with a smile, “can only stray so far before the sun pulls it back where it belongs.”

He shook his head. “I’m the shadow; you’re the one who deserves to walk freely of me.”

She stepped closer, and his breath caught in his chest, sat right above his heart in glorious, agonizing anticipation. “Then every night I’ll pray for shade, so us figments of the dark can disappear together.”

Inej reached up, and it was only then that he noticed the gloves on her hands, thin and sleek, the same color black as his own. Despite the barrier, his heart still fluttered when she brought her hand up to his chin. She stood like that for a minute, her eyes searching for permission, and Kaz didn’t know what she was asking for but the answer would always be yes, yes, yes.

Leaning toward him, she turned his head slightly, brought her lips to his cheek. They only touched for a second, maybe two, but it was enough to elicit another internal vow. He would find a way to fix as many of his jagged, shattered parts as he could, because the next time she brought her lips to his skin, he wanted to feel euphoria unburdened by anything else.

“I know I’ve said it before,” she whispered, “but thank you. For all of it.”

Whatever words, whatever courage he might have had, evaporated as quickly as it had come. The ship horn blared again but he kept his gaze steady, stole one last look, memorized the moment before it could fade. Inej lingered, as if she was doing the same, before she took a breath and turned around.

Kaz watched. He watched her board the ship side by side with her parents. He watched her turn back as it began to pull away, the lone traveler facing Ketterdam rather than the endless sea. He watched until the ship disappeared into the horizon, the sight of it swallowed up by the glare of the sun. And even when it was gone, he watched for just a little bit longer, as if his eyes could carry her across the sea and into the safety that only existed in dreams and on a stage.

Turning around still hurt. Part of him longed to stay anchored to the harbor, to wait for her in the very spot she’d left him. But instead, he pulled his watch out of his pocket and began walking toward the Barrel. There was no time for standing around and waiting patiently. Not when he worked for The Wraith. She expected him to scrub their dirty home clean, and despite all his failings, Kaz Brekker refused to disappoint.

#i love them your honor #kanej #kaz x inej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #also do not hesitate to tell me if u like this #im a bitch for validation from strangers on the internet #six of crows #crooked kingdom #crooked kingdom spoilers #shadow and bone #also shoutout to rule of wolves for the Suli word for daughter #that was a big W #(i wont say anything more about that tho don't worry no spoilers here)#fanfic #TFLAO3 #six of crows fanfic #kanej fanfic #grishaverse

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, popsicle181!

Apologies once again for the delay on your birthday gift, @popsicle181! We hope you had a wonderful birthday back on the 5th, and that you got all you wished for! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

For: popsicle181

Prompt: I would love anything with a college theme (maybe a first meeting) if possible.

Authors Note: I would like to apologize for the late submission of your birthday drabble. But I wanted to make sure that you received the best story possible and I hope you don’t mind the little journey we’re taking. There are many bonds, the bonds of friendship, the bond of family, and the bond of love. Some bonds can never be broken. Special thanks to Norbertsmom for her encouragement and beta skills

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Kindergarten:

Katniss held her father’s hand tightly. “Papa, do I have to go?”

“Yes half-pint, you have to go.”

Tears filled her eyes. “But I don’t want to leave you and mama.”

Her father kneeled down in front of her. “Tell you what. It’s not going to be easy for your maw and me to let you go to school for so long, but I can’t be selfish. I can’t keep you home and not let you learn anything. Especially since you want to be a big sister. And one day when you do become a big sister you’re going to want to read to them, and help them with their homework.”

Katniss looked down. She did want to be a big sister. Livi Bard had a baby brother she got to help take care of. Katniss wanted someone to sing to, to play with, and wanted to teach all the things her mama and papa taught her. “I do want to read the baby stories.”

“Plus, if you learn how to write, we can write a song together.”

Her little head popped up, “Really!”

“Yeah.”

Katniss looked at the massive building. “Okay papa, I’ll go to school. I need to learn to write a song.”

With that resolved Katniss marched purposefully into the building and went about her day. She learned how to hold a pencil and was tracing her name when she heard a soft cry in the room. Turning her head she saw a small boy hiding amongst a fortification of blocks. A group of boys were snickering at him. They ran away after the teacher appeared.

Katniss stood up in her chair to peer at him. His round little face was angelic and his blond curls were a riot. His eyes were wide and filled with tears. His pale cheeks were splotchy and he bit his lips to keep from crying in earnest. Katniss felt a deep stirring in her heart for the little boy. Getting down, she walked over to him and sat down. She didn’t like hearing other kids cry. She began to build up the fort around both of them all the while humming. She noted the sweet smell of cinnamon. He reminded her of the snickerdoodle cookies her mama liked to bake.

“Twinkle, twinkle…” Katniss sang, “little star-”. Her father sang to her whenever she was having a bad day. She hoped it would help the little boy. Katniss leaned over him and took a brick as she sang softly. He stopped making noises as she finished her song.

“You have a pretty voice,” the shy boy said. His tear filled eyes glanced at her with awe.

“No I don’t,” Katniss wrinkled her nose, “My papa has a better voice. Why were you crying?”

“The other kids were making fun of me, because of my name,” he whispered.

“What’s your name?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

Katniss nodded.

“My name is Peeta.”

"I like your name."

His blue eyes widened, awe in his voice, "You do?"

Katniss smiled.

"What's your name?"

Katniss shrugged. “My name is Katniss. It’s a plant that grows in the mud. Do you want to be my friend?”

“Sure.”

From that moment on Katniss was attached to Peeta. They were best friends all throughout Kindergarten. They were a team, coloring, defending the smaller kids in class from the bullies.

Peeta learned Katniss became cranky when hungry, he always brought an extra cheese bun to share for snack. Katniss learned Peeta's favorite color was orange. She gave him all of the shades of orange from her crayon box.

They shared their lunches together, and when Katniss got sick in class Peeta sat with her inside of the nurses office. He held her hand until her father came, and one day in class when Peeta tripped Katniss caught him before he fell into a chair.

“Peeta and Katniss sitting under a tree K - I - S - S- I - N - G…” one of the kids snickered one day.

Katniss narrowed her eyes, becoming mad by the taunting.

“Maybe one day we will be in love and get married and have the baby in the baby carriage. We’ll always be together,” Peeta replied.

Katniss snapped out of her anger. She turned to him and the thought of having Peeta, just like her mama had her papa made her happy. “Always?”

His gaze was unflinching, yet filled with tenderness. "Always."

The words formed a bond deep within her little heart. They were a team before but after this, they became inseparable. Nonetheless as all stories have a beginning, they also have an ending. Theirs had to come to a stop as Kindergarten came to an end.

During play time on the last day of Kindergarten, they sat with their little arms wrapped around each other, as if trying to absorb as much as they could of the other. When dismissal time came, they were not excitedly speaking about summer plans. Katniss sadly sat with Peeta in the class holding his hand.

“Peeta,” the Kindergarten teacher called. “Your father is here to pick you up.”

Katniss squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’m sorry Mr. Mellark, Peeta’s normally picked up by his brothers. Your son and Katniss have quite the bond. They are a pair of star crossed lovers,” the teacher explained. “They are so sweet.”

Peeta and Katniss stood, tears gathered in her eyes.

“Promise you’ll remember me.” Peeta hugged her.

Katniss who at first didn’t want to go to school had discovered a reason to go to class everyday.

“Always.”

“Here.” Peeta gave her a heart with a picture of them together, he’d spent hours in class drawing.

Katniss gave him an orange ribbon he liked.

They tearfully separated on the last day. Each one staring at the other over the shoulder of their respective fathers.

Sixth Grade:

“Dear Katniss,

I couldn’t believe it when I read you are in Mr. Raj’s class. I am also going to be in Mr. Raj’s class. It’s going to be so much fun this year we are going to be in the same school and I heard Mr. Raj is a great math teacher.”

Katniss couldn’t believe her eyes. She put down the letter. After they separated in Kindergarten, Peeta found out her address and he sent her a picture. It was a surprise to see the carefully drawn picture from her friend. It lifted Katniss' sadness. Her father encouraged her to draw him a picture in return. In six years the bond that began in Kindergarten grew. She learned Peeta lived in a very affluent part of town. Her home was humble in comparison, a two bedroom home that her father was restoring. She and her baby sister Prim shared a bedroom.

She was sitting at the study desk in the living room reading her letter. Prim was already asleep in their room upstairs. Her mother walked by humming as she carried a laundry basket upstairs. Katniss was trying to figure out what to write to Peeta.

“So what did young Master Peeta write?” Her father joked sitting next to Katniss.

“Daddy.” Katniss could feel the sting of the blush hitting her cheeks. Her father learning her pen pal was well off he joked that Peeta was richer than Mayor Undersee. Katniss didn’t like it but her mother often told her that her father was only having fun.

“We’re going to the same school in the fall and we’ll have the same math class.”

Her father whistled. “That’s pretty important stuff.”

“Yeah,” Katniss breathed.

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I was going to say how happy I am and about how this summer you taught me to use the bow and arrow.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.” Her father stood, and ruffled her hair. “I’ve got to change that cable, it’s frayed,” he said pointing to the floor lamp by the garbage bin.

Katniss nodded. She began to write, but what she wrote didn’t sound good. She tore the paper from her note book and threw it in the trash. Time began to tick away, as the trash bin filled up. Katniss sleepily glanced at her letter, she yawned and she placed her head on the table.

Coughing, she woke up to see her room was filled with smoke. Getting up she saw the trash bin was on fire. The curtain caught fire and Katniss screamed. Moments later her father ran down the stairs. Katniss ran from the desk into his arms.

Her father tore open the front door, and put her on the sidewalk, “Go to the neighbors house and call the fire department.”

Katniss nodded, and took off as her father ran back into the house.

“Mr. Wyler, Mr. Wyler,” Katniss pounded on the door. Tears streamed down her face.

“Katniss.” Mr. Wyler opened the door.

“My house is on fire please call the fire department!”

“Alex what is it?” Mr. Wyler’s wife asked.

“Call 911,” Mr. Wyler said, stepping outside to look at her home.

Katniss ran back home. but her house was burning. Her father ran outside with Primrose. “Stay with your sister, I’m going to get mommy, okay.”

“Daddy,” Katniss yelled. Mr. Wyler pulled her back. Katniss turned to her sister and put her arms around her. That was the last time she’d seen her father alive. The fire was started by the floor lamp. The frayed wires lit the papers from the waste bin on fire. It was her fault for not being able to write, to communicate well. She blamed herself for her parents deaths and she closed herself off.

Katniss vowed she would never allow others into her heart, for fear of losing them. Katniss and Primrose moved to another town with their uncle Haymitch Abernathy. She pushed the memory of Peeta away. She eventually met another boy named Gale, but she never let him get close and pushed him away at every opportunity.

College:

Katniss hated college. She wanted nothing more than to quit and go home. But to be honest she didn’t really have a home anymore. After her parents died and Katniss and her baby sister moved in with Haymitch nothing was the same. Haymitch wasn’t really her uncle, but he was the person her parents entrusted the care of their girls to in their will. Haymitch and his wife were not a typical married couple, they always bickered. Aunt Effie detested uncle Haymitch's geese. UncIe Haymitch reminded Effie on a daily basis that they lived on a farm.

Kathiss was going to stay on at the farm helping Haymitch run the place, but Haymitch changed all of those ideas when he showed her her parents’ last will. Going to college was the one thing her parents wanted for Katniss and Prim. Unbeknownst to Katniss, their parents had a college fund for each of the girls.

The fund and her scholarship she won for archery had secured her place in Panem University. Katniss was a shy person by nature and the bustling nature of the university overwhelmed her. While other freshmen met and became friends with the kids around campus, Katniss avoided people, people like her roommate.

The first few days, her roommate Clove was your average girl next door. Then precisely at midnight on the Saturday of that first weekend she shaved her head. The next day Clove painted her half of the room black, and she bought a set of paring knives that she used for target practice. Katniss was eternally grateful when on the following Monday Clove found a guy and moved in with him. Clove took all of her clothes and most importantly, her knives.

For the past 2 weeks the room was quiet and peaceful. Katniss didn’t have to put up with Clove’s screeching music. And although she enjoyed having a room to herself, Katniss admitted to herself she was lonely. She missed her sister. She missed the familiar sounds of Haymitch's geese. The click- clack noise of Effies heels, as she walked on the hardwood floors. She even missed Haymitch and his cantankerous ways.

Katniss' internal strife must have shown on her face because her sister was trying to make her feel better.

“Cheer up Katniss,” her baby sister said through the computer screen.

Katniss grimaced. Only a handful of people could tell what she was really thinking. She effectively hid her real feelings often. Life had taught her that putting her real self out there only caused hurt and pain. Her sister, her uncle Haymitch, and Peeta knew the real Katniss. Thinking about the boy with the warm blue eyes always caused flutters in her stomach.

Katniss shrugged.

“Look, I know you didn’t want to go to college, but trust me. Little things always lead to something bigger.”

Her sister was always spouting encouraging statements, like the one found on those posters. Katniss rolled her eyes.

“You are in a real mood tonight.” Prim grimaced, then said, “I hate to do this to you but do you remember when I did you that favor…”

Katniss at first frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You know when you and Gale wanted to go hunting for deer in the middle of the night? Remember I told you you’d owed me.”

Katniss blinked, she remembered that night. She stupidly wanted to go, thinking it was purely to hunt. It turned out all Gale wanted was to drink beer and try to make out with her. She’d given Gale a shiner when he tried to make a move on her. Gale was embarrassed to admit she’d given him a black eye; he said he ran into a branch. That was the beginning of the end of her so-called friendship with Gale Hawthorne. Prim had covered for her that night.

“What do you want you little shyster?”

Prim gave Katniss that grin that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. Her sister was typically the nicest person unless she was on one of her missions then Primrose was ruthless.

“You must promise me the next time you go out you will speak to the first person you see.”

Katniss opened her mouth to protest.

“Katniss!”

Prim’s stern voice caused Katniss to shut her mouth. She mumbled, “Fine.”

“Good.” Her sister looked so proud of herself.

“Prim!” Katniss could hear their aunt call, “Time for dinner!”

Prim rolled her eyes. “I’ve got to go.”

The screen went dark and Katniss flopped herself on the bed. Her eyes narrowed. There was no way she was going to complete the task Prim set up for her. Katniss became grinchlike in her thoughts. There were ways of avoiding people. She’d done it in high school. Gale was an anomaly. He wouldn’t leave her alone after he found out how good she was at hunting. He was annoying as the gum that got stuck to your sneakers.

Sitting up, Katniss grabbed her pen and paper and jotted down a few notes:

eat breakfast at five in the morning

get to class just as it began

sit in the back of the class

buy lunch & dinner when the crowds are gone

Study in the library at odd hours

Wear a hoodie so that no one can talk to you.

Wear your headphones so it looks like you’re listening to music

With her plan set, she began to systematically avoid people. Katniss even purchased things like crackers, jelly, and peanut butter, chips and salsa to munch on so that she didn't have to leave her dorm room. During the week, she used shadows and stillness to get across campus to avoid the crowds. Everything was going to plan, except for the week of Thanksgiving break. Katniss didn’t have enough money to go home, plus there was a massive snow storm forecasted. Katniss decided to stockpile some snacks from the student commissary that Wednesday evening.

The campus was empty as nearly everyone left by the morning as to not get caught up in the blizzard. Katniss had one last class that ended at four-forty-five. Professor Coin didn’t let anyone out until the end of the class; the woman was merciless.

Going to the commissary was a risk. However Katniss was low on supplies, and she needed something to drink and eat. If the snow storm was as bad as predicted, the school cafeteria would not be opening. She also hated the cold and she wasn’t going to leave her dorm room until Monday morning.

Katniss hoped there wouldn't be a lot of people cramming the small building. Those left on campus were probably like her, doing last minute shopping. Katniss rushed out of class. The snow fell quickly and was accumulating.

She got to the commissary and thankfully it was still opened. She rushed in and rebounded back against a solid form.

“Woah,” a deep voice said.

Katniss blinked as the world swayed as she fell backwards. Suddenly she came to a violent stop, and her vision came into focus; she noted blond curls, warm blue eyes, and a gentle smile. She picked up on the strong scent of cookies. She looked at him then saw they were near a display of cookies and baked goods. A wave of nostalgia wafted over her as cookies and baked goods always reminded Katniss of her childhood friend Peeta.

“I got you.”

Katniss didn’t like to be touched. She’d clocked Gale for stepping into her personal space when they went on that phony hunting trip. However, being held right now caused her entire body to tingle. She felt the way her cheeks burned. Katniss was sure they glowed redder than an apple.

“Are you okay?”

She wasn’t much of a talker and all she could manage was a little nod.

A wave of familiarity hit Katniss. She shook her head, trying to understand what odd dimension she’d stepped into. Much the way certain scents brought forth certain memories, there was something about the guy holding her that didn’t cause her to feel that instant rejection. She didn’t mind his touch.

Unlike Gale who had a current of negativity about him, this boy had a current of good. Katniss thought maybe she’d fallen and hit her head. She must have been in a dream like state, as everything around her blurred and the music that was always blaring in the student run commissary was silenced. Only they existed in this small bubble. He was handsome and debonair. And Katniss couldn’t help but give a virtual stranger a slightly goofy smile.

“Here, let me help you.”

Katniss questioned why his voice caused her heart to palpitate like the beating drums from Jumanji. “Ahhh…’ the guttural sound that came out of her was sure to make an impression on the guy holding her. The more she stared at him the more attractive he seemed.

“It’s okay,” he said holding her shoulders, as she slipped on the wet floor.

He helped her become upright and Katniss noticed how broad his shoulders were, how masculine his hands were. She also noticed his eyes were that elusive blue that changed color with his mood. Right now his eyes were a cheerful robin's egg blue, as he grinned at her.

“Sorry.” Katniss blurted out embarrassed by her lack of coordination.

"It's okay the floor is wet from the snow."

"My friends call me Peet, not, P- E- T- E but P- E- E- T."

The spelling was unusual but at least his nickname wasn't painful. Gale called her catnip out of spite, because she decked him. "Katniss."

Peet's blue eyes widened at her name.

"I know it's not a usual name, it's a plant."

"It's a tuber that grows in the marshes with a creamy colored flower." He blushed and he rubbed the back of his neck as if embarrassed by what he was going to say next. "I know alot about flowers. I decorate cakes for a living."

"I hunt with bow and arrow," Katniss blurted. She opened her mouth and closed it, she felt giddy suddenly like when she was a child and the world included her parents.

"I sound like a geek." His cheeks became ruddy. Peet looked over her shoulder, “Man it’s coming down out there.”

Katniss blinked and forced herself from awkwardly gawking at Peet to the door she just came through. “Crap,” Katniss bemoaned. A few inches had fallen.

“We should hurry up. I’m in Crumpet Hall just across the way. Where do you live?”

“Greenly,” Katniss muttered.

Peet gave her a low whistle. “That’s way across campus. If you don’t hurry you won’t get to your dorm room on time.”

Peet was right, if she didn’t leave soon she wouldn’t make it to her building across campus. Her mind turned to the shelves, she needed to do a power shop, and get out. Thankfully there weren't a lot of people in the commissary. “Thank you,” Katniss said.

She hurried down the aisles quickly picking up what she needed. When she got to the cash register Peet was paying for his food. She kept on staring outside at the snow. The visibility was getting worse. Once done, Katniss bundled up to go outside.

“Will you be okay walking all the way to Greenley?”

Katniss turned to him. “I hope so.”

Both set out in the snow. The path that led from the commissary to the dorms was blanketed with half-a-foot of snow. The cold wind bit at her cheeks and it was getting harder to see.

"KATNISS!" Peet yelled out to her when they got to the fork in the path.

Kathiss stopped walking, he was only an arms length away. He got closer to her, as the snowfall dampened the sound of his voice.

"You should come with me,” Peet shouted. “I have a suite, my roommates are gone for the break. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.”

She trusted Gale because he was her hunting partner, but didn’t trust him outside of the woods. Her instincts about Gale were spot on. After they fell out he started going out with Madge, the mayor's daughter. Then he began the name calling. Looking into Peet’s eyes she wasn’t sure she should trust him. Just then she heard thunder and she jumped out of fright.

“It’s getting worse out here, we need to get to safety,” Peet said. “I lost my brother in a snowstorm!” He held out his hand to her.

Katniss heard the desperation in his voice. Learning he’d lost someone caused her to acquiesce. She took his hand.

Together they walked toward his dorm room. A walk that normally took five minutes took nearly fifteen. Peet waved his ID card in front of the scanner to get into the building. Once inside, the warmth stung their cheeks, but it felt good.

“Come on, my room this way. I can throw your coat and stuff in the dryers downstairs.

Katniss followed him through the winding corridors to his room. Using his ID card he opened the door to his suite. There were two doors and off to the side a small living area and a kitchen with another door.

As he walked toward the kitchen Katniss saw Peet had a limp.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He put the bags down. He sat down. “I have a fake leg,” He knocked on his leg.

Katniss would have never guessed that he had a prosthetic. The more she got to know about him, the more intrigued she became. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” Peet shrugged.

The walls in the kitchen were painted a soft orange. The color struck something within her and once more she was hit with a sense of familiarity. She continued looking around at the kitchen. He had things that no average college guy would have.

There was a set of professional knives inside of a case. Stainless steel pots and a cast-iron pan hung neatly from a wall. There was a marble block and a wooden rolling pin neatly tucked away in a corner. And his spices were lined up on the counter. Saffron, thyme, Rosemary, allspice, clove, ginger, caraway, cardamom, nutmeg, dill, cinnamon we're just a few names she read. As a hunter knowing your prey’s environment helped you figure them out. Seeing Peet's environment led her to believe that what he said about being a baker was true. He was honest.

"I'm going to go get some towels and if you give me your coat, like I said, I can toss it in the dryer."

He walked out of the room as she removed her coat.

She was only removing her jacket, but for some reason it felt so intimate, as if she was peeling back a layer, exposing her soul.

She should have been terrified; she was in the dorm room of a stranger. Yet there was something compelling about Peet, an underlying sweetness and goodness that she found in only one other person, her sister. Like an old pair of shoes, comfortable and familiar.

“Here,” Peet said, handing her a fluffy robe. “It’s a bit chilly in here, my roommate always complains that if I could I’d have the thermostat set to zero.”

Katniss wasn’t expecting robe, but she took it, handing him her coat. When he walked out she sniffed his robe, it smelled of cinnamon and it made her smile. Her father always smelled of fresh pine. Katniss slipped on the robe and instantly felt a warmth that spread from her inside out. The door opened and Peet walked back in, he smiled at her, and his eyes turned a dark blue.

“Good, are you hungry, I’m going to make us some bread, maybe some cupcakes.”

“You don’t have to,” Katniss protested.

“It’s nothing. I made dough earlier. I've been letting it rest. I just have to sprinkle some herbs on top.”

It sounded wonderful, but Katniss didn’t want to give him any more trouble. “It sounds like a lot-” Katniss was going to say more but her stomach growled.

“Yup that settles it, grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and cupcakes.”

Katniss nodded.

“Have a seat, the remote is somewhere by the T.V.,” Peet said, washing his hands.

Taking her book bag, Katniss sat down in the living room. There was nothing on the television; all of the local channels were covering the snow storm. Her phone pinged with a message.

It was a message from Prim asking her if she was fine.

Katniss looked up at Peet. She asked herself if she was fine, and for the first time since coming to college Katniss could honestly say she was fine. She replied to her sister. With a soft smile on her face, she began watching him cook.

Peet’s movements in the kitchen were efficient, like the chefs she’d seen on TV. He took out several cookie sheets and put them down on the counters. From the fridge he took out tomatoes, peppers, and a bowl covered with a dishcloth. He set the oven to preheat.

Katniss moved from her position to the kitchen table so she could watch him. His hands were steady and quick as he put tomatoes and peppers on a cookie sheet. He sprinkled the tomatoes and peppers with olive oil, seasonings, salt and pepper, before putting them in the oven. He next set to work on the bread.

Fascinated, Katniss watched on as Peet took off his sweater and the white t-shirt he was wearing showed off just how fit he was. His back muscles moved under the t-shirt as he worked on the cupcakes. Peet was making them from scratch and not from a box. Her mouth watered. If it wasn’t for the pinging sound of her phone, Katniss would have continued to gawk at Peet.

It was Haymitch telling her to be safe. Katniss and her uncle had a strange relationship. They understood each other, but they never talked. Haymitch instincts were as good as her own. He never liked Gale. She sent back a thumbs up emoji. Glancing up, she knew instantly Haymitch would like Peet. He had that inherent goodness Prim had, and Haymitch had taken to her baby sister immediately.

“You don’t remember, do you?” He asked as he put water in the kettle to boil.

Katniss found this question odd. “Remember you? We’ve just met.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure we met before.”

He chuckled, then turned to face her. “You gave me this,” Peet took out something from his pocket and looked at it fondly. “You disappeared on me. I could have used a friend.”

He put the scrap of faded ribbon on the table and Katniss' eyes widened. “Peeta.”

“When I saw your eyes I thought it was you, but then you said your name and I just knew. There aren’t many Katniss’ in the world.”

Katniss eyes filled with tears. The boy she’d been writing a letter to, that caused the fire was standing before her. Though he wasn’t unscathed, he lost a brother and leg. “My parents died. We had to move.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have known; you were a kid. We were both children.” Katniss couldn’t move, however the ribbon mocked her. He carried it all of his life. The drawing he gave her had burned in the house. She didn’t know how to feel.

“That winter break I lost my leg and my brother.” He looked down, his eyes turning dark, a midnight color as he recalled the painful memory. “We snuck out of the house to play in the snow in the middle of the night thinking the storm was over. The snow was so heavy we got lost getting back to our house. My brother covered me with his body, it’s why I lived, but I lost my leg.”

Katniss looked at his legs before her eyes moved up to his face. He looked just like she felt, in need of a new beginning.

The whistle of the kettle forced him to turn around.

“Why are you stuck here for the weekend?” Peeta turned to hand her a cup of tea.

Katniss took the cup, and debated telling him the truth. He’d been honest with her. There was no reason to lie, besides she wasn’t a great liar. “I didn’t have enough money to go home,” Katniss automatically followed her answer with a question. “ What about you, why are you stuck here?”

“Nobody wants me home,” Peeta said.

Katniss frowned. It wasn’t the statement itself, but the way he said it, as if he was unloved. “Why?”

He turned around and shrugged, “I’m not needed.”

The smell of the apartment filled with the lovely scent of oregano and broiling tomatoes. Peeta shaped up the bread in his hands as if he had been doing it all of his life. “Anyone who can cook like you is worth their weight in gold. Right now my aunt is preheating the oven to cook the frozen dinners she purchased.” Katniss looked down at her idle hands. “I haven’t had a cooked meal in years.”

“My mom, she blames me for the death of my brother. She was relieved when I decided to come to Panem. She wasn’t at the train station when I left.”

Hearing how cold his mother was caused Katniss to pursed her lips. She stood and on impulse she hugged him from behind. All of those childhood sentiments filled up in her heart and all that he’d told her made her understand something. Prim was right, she needed someone in her life. And the universe had brought her friend back to her, despite all of her careful planning.

Peeta turned around and hugged her back. She stood on tiptoe and sniffed the collar of his shirt and the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla caused her to feel at home. She closed her eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” Peeta murmured into the crook of her neck. His hot breath fanning the sensitive skin, making her feel alive.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Katniss replied.

“I’ve never forgotten you, Katniss.”

Katniss could feel the rush of heat to her cheeks as she blushed and butterflies filled her stomach.

Peeta pulled away and then he grinned. “I better get you fed. If I recall you got really testy when hungry.”

Katniss laughed, then sat down. She picked up the ribbon. Primrose was right; from something small something great had happened. One day, she decided, she would tell their children of how a little ribbon led to a love of a lifetime.

FIN

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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jmcolt · 3 years

Note

1-5 for bacey, 15-20 for lily

@chuckhansen bc you asked for 1 - 12; @kourumi bc you asked for 2, 10, and 17!

+ the rest of them bc i just want to 😑 lily is my favorite oc baby.

1. how did they feel about raising children? did these feelings change once they became parents?

Jacey was pretty set in her decision to not have any and Bobby was okay with that (even if he did kind of want children with her), but well, she obviously changed her mind and along came Lily. They’re both a little terrified and there’s definitely a few moments during her pregnancy where they question if they’re actually ready for it because who wouldn’t, y’know? However, they relax the second they lay eyes on their baby.

2. what’s their parenting approach? do they raise their children differently than how they were raised?

Very hands on! They make sure to spend as much time with her as they can (which, with Bobby staying at home, is most of it) and give her all the love and affection she needs. Coming from equally dysfunctional homes, it’s definitely different from how they were both raised and it’s their goal to make sure she doesn’t ever have to go through what they did. There’s never a moment where she feels unappreciated or discouraged from doing what she wants to do because they’re just so supportive of everything she tries. They’re front row at all of her piano recitals and always there to brag about her at school art shows!

3. what is their favorite thing(s) about their children? what do they love about their children the most?

If you asked them, they’d say literally everything. She’s their whole damn world!

4. who gets the most emotional seeing their children grow older?

Bobby has the hardest time letting go when Lily leaves for college and it gets even worse when it fully sinks in that she doesn’t really need them anymore. He does NOT cope with that very well.

5. who do they think their children takes after the most? which traits do the children share with their parents? (appearance or personality wise)

She takes after Bobby personality wise (and she’s his mini me in every way, much to Jacey’s chagrin), but when it comes to appearance, she’s a perfect blend of their features. Bobby’s blonde hair, Jacey’s curls and nose... the only thing she didn’t get from either of them was their brown eyes. She inherited green eyes from Jacey’s dad’s side of the family instead (again to her chagrin 😊)

6. how do they celebrate their baby’s first birthday? are they the type of parents to go over the top for birthdays/holidays?

Are you kidding? You know they 100% went overboard on her first birthday. She was born on Halloween, so it gave them the perfect excuse to throw a costume party in honor of their little girl and it became tradition to do the same thing every year after that— even if the other parents in town give them dirty looks for getting their kids hopped up on so much sugar 😒

As for other holidays, Jacey tried to have a lowkey first Christmas with Lily to make it more about family (she hated how superficial her own parents were about celebrating 🙄), but Bobby didn’t understand the assignment and bought too many gifts for their still pretty new baby. She got over it when Lily smiled for the first time while she was on her lap.

7. how do they soothe their crying baby when they’re out in public? who’s the best at rocking the baby to sleep?

They’ll pass her back and forth when she’s fussy, but she usually calms down faster in Bobby’s arms. Same goes for when it’s time to get her to sleep.

8. how do they care for their children when they get sick? who checks on them in the middle of the night?

They’ll do everything they can to make sure she feels completely comfortable while she recovers whether it be reading to her or letting her watch her favorite movies. Lots of soup and cuddles, too! Jacey has to be the one to give medicine, though— Lily starts tearing up and Bobby buckles like it’s okay, you don’t have to take your cough syrup right now. And when it comes to checking on her, they both take turns throughout the night... mostly because they can barely sleep when they know their baby isn’t feeling well.

9. who is the most protective of their children? what makes them both shift into overprotective mode?

They’re both mama and papa bear! Nothing is happening to their daughter on their watch, but thankfully, they never really have to worry.

10. who spoils their children the most? who finds it difficult telling their children ‘no’?

They both spoil her, but Bobby more so than Jacey. Whenever Lily points at something she wants, he does not hesitate to buy it and she has way too many stuffed animals as a result. That said, Jacey also has a hard time telling her no because she doesn’t want there to be any resentment between her and her daughter.

11. what was their baby’s first word(s)? if the baby’s first word was something used to address their parent(s), who claimed bragging rights?

Oh, Jacey got bragging rights. Bobby had been trying to get her to say ‘dada’ all day, but the minute she walked in the door, Lily very excitedly squealed out ‘mama’ instead and made grabby hands towards her. He was pouty for the rest of the night.

12. do their kids ever find them embarrassing?

Only when they’re being gross and romantic. Typical kid stuff 🙄

13. what is their name(s)? is there any significance to it? any nicknames they go by? or cute pet names their parents give them?

Her full name is Lily Renee! Jacey adores Monet’s Water Lilies, so when it came to picking out names, Lily was her first and pretty much only choice. Bobby tried to campaign to give her Roberta as a middle name, but he got shot down and they settled on Renee just because it sounded nice. Both of them call her baby, princess, and Lily Bear!

14. how were they like as small children? did their personality change drastically as they grew older?

Completely full of herself. I did say she was Bobby’s mini me! Baby girl recognized her reflection in a mirror and never looked back. She mellows out a little as she grows older, but she’s still fairly prideful and as stubborn as her mother is.

15. what do they usually eat at restaurants? are they a picky eater?

She was so picky growing up that Bobby started ordering things he knew she’d eat so they could trade plates when she decided she didn’t want what she asked for... which is something he was already doing with Jacey, so he’d had the practice. Pretty much the only thing she liked eating as a toddler was avocado! Sweet potato was a no and always got thrown in somebody’s face— usually Douglas whenever he was babysitting. She branched out a little more the older she got, but not by much and she still loves avocado.

16. have they ever scared their parents?

Just over the little things like her first fever and her first cut.

17. what was their favorite childhood toys/games growing up?

Not a toy, but she loved playing with her parents’ cameras! She would always make Bobby and Jacey stop what they were doing so she could take a picture of them. Eventually they got her a camera as a birthday present after she begged and begged for months to have her own instead of using theirs. She was also very attached to her copious amounts of stuffed animals— especially her ‘moomoo’.

18. which parent do they call out to whenever they have a bad dream?

Usually both of them, but she did catch them off guard once by asking for Douglas instead after he’d been over babysitting earlier that night. He's her big brother 🥺

19. what is their favorite thing to do with their parents? any favorite games or mutual hobbies?

Again, she loved playing with their cameras, so photography is a mutual hobby between all three of them. She also spends most of her time with Bobby and anything he does, she mimics. She used to sit by him while he was working and pretend she was working, too— would even give him little scraps of paper with crayon scribbles to ‘read’. With Jacey, she always enjoyed time in her art room. Sometimes she'd make her own paintings alongside her!

20. did they grow up to be different than what their parents had expected?

Nope! She stayed fairly consistent over the years. The only thing they got wrong is thinking she’d want to go into photography— she actually ends up going to school for graphic design.

#x: clown emoji #YALL IM NOT KIDDING my laptop refused to let me answer this #it was shielding you. be grateful #anyway lily is the baby demanding a lawyer in spanish when she means avocado #and i love her for that #this baby has more lore than some of my actual ocs 🙄🙄🙄

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Text

footprints in the snow

Nightrunners fic??? on a Sunday??? it’s more likely than you think. Look I’m a simple woman. I have some faves, I give them a baby.

If you like this, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment on Ao3!

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Alec didn’t remember the first time he’d seen snow. It had always been part of his home as he grew, as much a part of the northern forests as the trees and the bitter wind and the wolf tracks in the brittle, cold shocked ground. Snow had been a source of clean water when you were far from a stream, a friend who would muffle your footfalls so you could creep close enough to take down the first deer you’d seen in weeks, an enemy who would wake you in the morning with blistered lips and stiff fingers if your shelter wasn’t good enough. He could never remember it being something unfamiliar, something strange and otherworldly. It had always been a part of his life, a part of him with his fair skin and pale hair.

Which was why Alec was so delighted to see it through his daughter’s eyes for the very first time.

The first few years of Adzriel ä Alec Ireya Rhíminee’s life had been spent in Bôkthersa and Skala where winter was all about grey rather than white, cold slate days and endless skies of thick cloud and sleet. Bôkthersa was too warm a climate for real snow and Rhíminee had the cloying atmosphere of a city, of crowded bodies and close buildings, the trapped heat and proximity to the sea meaning there was never anything more than the slightest sparkling of frost on the really chill days. She’d never known snow the way her papa did.

But they were travelling this winter, the fourth of her life, and Alec had been filling her head with visions of white flakes dancing in the air and dragon breath appearing before her every time she exhaled, of snowball fights and snow people and skating on frozen lakes. So it had been no surprise when, that morning, he’d been woken by her cry of delight and drawn to the window of the inn room they’d been staying in for the night to see the world turned crisp and white and perfect.

Of course then nothing would do but to bundle her as much as she’d let him in her excitement and set out into it, no matter the early hour. Alec had nudged the snoring pile of blankets that was his husband and asked if he wanted to come but had, to no one’s surprise, received a growl of dissent. He certainly didn’t share his talímenios’ love of winter or their little girl’s love of getting up early.

It seemed like every other living soul shared his views. As they walked out across the fields and into the thin woods that surrounded the main road they’d been travelling, it felt like they were the only two people in the whole world. It had been much the same way when Alec was a child, it had been so easy to forget that it wasn’t just him and his father, the only two humans in the vast expanse of the snowy wilderness, the only sounds the calls of those birds brave enough to be out in the cold and crunch of their footfalls.

And now it was him and Adzriel. Alec felt a fond kind of sadness weigh his heart down in his chest a little.

“Papa! Papa, it’s all white!” Adzri cried in amazement, trying to run ahead but the snow and her uncertain little toddler legs made it difficult.

Alec chuckled and took her head so she’d be a little steadier, “Why don’t you try and touch some, love?”

She gasped and bent over to try and grab a handful of a nearby drift. Even with the mittens he’d insisted she wear, as soon as her fingers brushed the snow she gave an indignant shout and jumped back.

“Papa, it bit me!”

Alec grinned, the expression on her little face an absolute perfect replica of one he’d seen on Seregil’s many times, “It’s the cold, sweet girl, that’s all. It’ll go away after a little while.”

She frowned down at the snow, a little warier now, but she was as stubborn as both her fathers. Again, she bent and seized a handful, eyes widening in awe as she crunched it between her clumsy, mittened fingers.

“Pretty…” she murmured, letting it fall back to the ground, watching how it caught on the air.

“Very pretty,” Alec agreed, squatting down beside her, “See, you can press it into snowballs or make snow shapes or build it up into people…”

Adzri giggled, grabbing more and throwing it up into the air, laughing as it fluttered back down around them and caught in Alec’s hair.

“Or you can just do that,” he chuckled, flicking some from his braid, “Come on, let’s walk a little further. It’ll be deeper the more we go into the woods.”

They continued on, so Alec could show his daughter how beautiful a snow encrusted leaf or pine cone could be, how it turned everything to sugared candies or how you could yell as loud as you could and the sound would carry no further than the tip of your nose.

After they’d been walking awhile, Alec realised her little hand was no longer held in his own. A hot rush of panic he wished he weren’t so familiar with pierced his stomach. She was always doing this, she’d inherited their talents for disappearing silently and wandering off. More than a few times he and Seregil had lost sight of her in some busy market or small town, ran themselves frantic back and forth, only to find their daughter sat happily enjoying the sunshine or admiring some shiny rock or forgotten penny that had caught her attention. More than once Seregil had been heard to curse the day she learned to walk on her own two feet.

Fortunately, he only had to turn around to find her. She was waddling in the snow just a few feet behind him, trying to place her feet in the snowy boot prints he’d left behind him. Her dark hair, so like Seregil’s, had come loose from under the hat Kari had knitted for her when she’d heard they were travelling north, her cheeks were an adorable apple red with the cold and her bright blue eyes, twins of his own, were full of delight. Her little tongue poked out in concentration as she did her best to walk in her papa’s footprints.

Alec’s panic dissipated, leaving his heart warm and full of love for his little girl. It had been such a wrench to the lives they’d known, the day she’d become theirs, but now Alec couldn’t imagine how he’d ever managed without her.

Time soon became irrelevant as they played in the snow, neither Alec or Adzriel noticed the sun coming up through the trees. They built themselves a snow family, one taller snowman to be Alec, one an inch shorter to be Seregil and then a little snowgirl, all of them with acorns for eyes and smiles fashioned from twigs. Alec did his best to make a snow castle for Adzriel to rein from which absolutely delighted her. They lay in the snow and waved their arms and legs to leave imprints behind, leaving them laughing and looking a lot like their snow counterparts with how much clung to their coats.

It was when they were trying to catch the gentle flakes of the latest flurry on their tongue that Alec saw movement out of the corner of his eye, through the trees. For a moment his hunter’s instincts prickled but then he caught a wink of the morning light catching on an earring and he grinned.

“You know, Adzri,” he hummed as if it had just occurred to him, “We really should be careful out here so early, with all this snow around…”

Her big blue eyes widened, “Why, papa?”

“Sometimes…” he leaned in close and stage whispered, making sure his voice carried while trying to sound conspiratorial, “In the dead of winter...in cold, lonely woods like these...the snow beasts come out to play.”

Almost instantly she was absorbed in the game, squeaking and closing in tight to him, “Snow beasts!”

“That’s right!” Alec declared, clutching her tight and looking theatrically from side to side, “Hideous creatures, these snow beasts, absolutely horrific. The sight of their faces is enough to stop a man’s heart!”

There was a poorly concealed snort of laughter from behind a nearby tree and the sound of footsteps from somewhere behind them.

“What do we do, papa?” Adzri was caught between terror and delight, the place children occupied so excitedly.

“Well, love, the only way to beat these vile monsters is at their own game. With a few well placed snowballs. Quick, we need ammunition, they’re already closing in!”

She made a sound that was half a scream and half a laugh, hurriedly scooping up snow. With Alec’s help, they soon had a small pile of serviceable snowballs. He had no doubt their ‘snow beast’ had used his time similarly.

“You throw the first, you’re a better shot than me,” Alec insisted, putting one in her hand and helping her square up.

He was saying it to make her puff up with pride but, in all honesty, for her last name day they’d given her a toy bow and arrow set fit for her tiny hand and he could already tell she’d be as good a shot as him some day. Perhaps even better. He’d have been smug but she seemed equally talented with her wooden sword. It seemed both of them had a protegee as well as a daughter.

“Don’t loose until you see it’s horrible face!” he warned, “Hold steady, that’s it...wait...wait…”

Sensing his cue, Seregil pounced from behind the tree, kicking up a flurry he could emerge from, gloved hands curled into claws, roaring gutturally. Adzriel was used to her daddy’s theatrics, however, and promptly hurled the snowball, catching him right on the nose.

Alec burst out laughing, hard enough that he lost his balance and pitched forward onto his knees, while Seregil spat out snow and wrinkled his nose.

“Good shot, sweetling,” he spluttered, “Unfortunately.”

“Daddy!” Adzriel frowned, putting her hands on her hips like she was scolding him, “We’re supposed to be hunting snow beasts!”

“Apologies,” Seregil laughed ruefully, dropping into a hunched, monstrous crouch.

He chased her around the clearing and let her pitch snowballs at him, eventually sweeping her up in his arms and spinning her around until she was in fits of giggles, tumbling in the snow with her. Alec sat up, not caring that snow was melting and soaking his knees through, watching his husband and their daughter play and unable to keep the smile from his face.

He remembered a time when Seregil had been absolutely terrified at the mere idea of being a father. He remembered difficult nights, arguments, empty space in the bed between them. And then the eventual breaking of the dam, the tears that came up like blood from a wound that had finally been lanced. Alec had learned a lot about his talímenios’ father then, things that made his shoulders tense and his hands ball into fists as he saw years worth of scars on show.

He remembered Seregil sobbing into his shoulder if she grows up and fears me the way I feared him, I don’t know how I could bear it.

But Seregil wasn’t Korit. He’d proved that so many times over and seeing him now, like this, with so much love and pride in his eyes as he played with their daughter, so at ease with her, happier than Alec could ever remember him being, he knew those fears his husband had shared with him had been put to rest.

He wiped a few tears from his eyes before they could fall, laughing as Seregil enacted a dramatic death while Adzriel sat on his chest and clapped her hands in triumph.

“Well done, brave hunter,” he swept her into his arms and kissed her frozen cheeks, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone brave enough to take down a snow beast.”

“Me!” Adzri crowed, “I did!”

Seregil stood, shaking snow off his travelling coat, “You certainly did, consider me very much defeated.”

“Look at you,” Alec beamed at him, smiling softly, “Up before noon and out in the cold…”

Seregil gave him a lopsided grin and came up to wind his arm around his waist, “Well, I couldn’t let the two of you have all the fun, talí.”

Alec chuckled and kissed him, hoping that and the bond they shared would say everything he wanted to but couldn’t put into words. From the way Seregil cupped his cheek and sighed under his lips, it seemed like they did.

“Eeeeew,” Adzri groaned, wriggling to bring their attention back to her.

Alec laughed and Seregil cooed, “Feeling left out, my little winter warrior?” He pulled her close and peppered kisses all over her face until she was giggling and squealing and begging for mercy.

“Come on now, I think we could all use a hot breakfast,” Alec slid an arm through Seregil’s, “We’ve got travelling to do today. Plenty of time to play when we’re on the road.”

“Good idea, talí,” Sergeil kissed his cheek and let Adzriel wriggle down to toddle back with one hand in her papa’s and the other in her daddy’s.

On the way Seregil invented tales of snow beasts and their winter ways, now fixed on the idea. It would be easy to be as transfixed as their daughter, he really did know how to weave a story together. But Alec couldn’t help glancing back as he walked, letting him carry on.

And the sight of their footprints, side by side in the snow, made him smile.

#nightrunners #lynn flewelling #alec i amasa #seregil i korit #alec x seregil #seregil #the nightrunner series #stag and otter #dads #family fluff #please comment and reblog!

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cranehusbands · 4 years

Text

glory, to olympus

loba andrade/crypto | park tae joon; established relationship; hurt/comfort; post broken ghost; apex rarepair week; 1883 words

a/n: first thought is why the fuck did ao3 butcher crypto’s name so bad.. that’s not how his name is said. taejoon is one word. crypto im so sorry

secondly, this has been my agenda this whole time. welcome to cryptloba hell, population me. i absolutely adore these two with all my heart, i was so excited for finally write for them, and will be doing so later this week, as it’s apex rarepair week! the prompt i went for for this one was meet the parents and well... you get the idea. angst time baby

@apex-rarepairweek thank you for hosting this wonderful week!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: The thief’s mouth hung open in her rambles, before she looked up to Crypto, still standing in the rain with his hands in his pockets, hair flat against his face. The shadow over her eyes fell now, mascara running down her cheeks as she wiped the nose with the back of her hand in an uncharacteristically sloppy way. “...Am I doing them wrong, Park? Have I done bad by them?”

The gentle sound of the radio was enough to not make the room sound so deafening in its silence, raindrops hitting the window like tears from the clouds, as if knowing the day to the date, and mourning on her behalf. The song was a lighthearted one, one about running away to the big city - an older one, from more than many years ago, somehow still prevalent on the radio stations that she tended to be drawn towards. Was it because this music was a comfort to her? Her father always cared a lot for songs like those, and he would whisk herself and her mother around the living room while some lovelorn fool sang about a Caroline or an Eileen.

Loba was gentle in the way she did her makeup, having mastered her technique in the past few years - her philosophy had always been to not get caught, but if she were to be, she had to look her best. She closed one eye, gently placing a synthetic eyelash over the smokey eye makeup she’d carefully painted on already, pulling away and staring at herself in the vanity mirror in her room, and hand running through one of the shorter braids, the ends of her hair no longer stark red and now simply a subdued blonde. Her eyes fell on a small polaroid in the corner of the vanity, moving to run two fingers of the faces of the two adults - a suited man and a smiling woman - staring at the young child with a wide smile and a small tooth gap. The thief smiled a little, at the way the girl was so oblivious to her future, her happiness at that moment forever caught, to be cherished and longed for. She stared for a moment or two more, hand pulling away to catch a glance of the two parents by the girl’s shoulders, just as happy as she, before she stood to her feet, grabbing the leather-gloved form the edge of the desk before she opened the door, and began heading out of the dropship, passing by the kitchen and listening to the clicking of her boots against the floor-

“You’re awake early.”

She jumped at the sudden voice, shooting a glare over to the table in the dropship’s kitchen, where a pair of eyes stared back at her from over the back of a laptop. “For god's sake, Crypto, make yourself known. Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.” He almost looked sheepish for a moment, pulling down his laptop screen so she could see his face, the clear bags under his eyes from behind his glasses and the weak smile he gave. “You’re looking very… monotone.”

Loba hummed, doing a little half-hearted spin. “I have places to be. Quite in demand, don’t you know?”

“Hm. Visiting death, are we?”

“I guess you could say that.”

He frowned at her for a moment, brow furrowing before he closed the lid of his laptop and stood to his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Grabbing my coat.”

“What- no, you’re not coming with me.”

He didn’t respond, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his room.

“Crypto!” The thief called out to him, but again he didn’t respond, not even so much with a turn. And though she gave an exasperated sigh and folded her arms across her chest, she didn’t try to leave him behind in this momentary blindspot. Deep down, she was almost glad for the company. Especially his.

The hacker soon returned, now donning a fuzzy black coat, somewhat more professional and warmer than his normal attire, though still jarring to see him in something that wasn’t white or green… though, hints of his usual accent still came through, in the formal shirt and tie he still wore underneath. Hands were shoved into his pockets, clearly fiddling with the cube he always carried with him, more for comfort than out of function. Crypto shot her a small nod as she turned to look at him, quickening his pace a little to join her at her side. “So-”

Before he could finish, he was cut off as she ran a hand down his chest, feeling the soft material of his coat under her fingertips with a soft expression. It wasn’t often they shared moments like this - the two were discrete about their relationship, especially since their mission had led to both… complications and rifts in the group, but also new bonds being formed, including their own. Interactions between the two were kept strictly professional when eyes were on them… but now Loba fixed his coat collar, a sad smile on her face, perhaps getting a bit closer than what she would have normally. But it was the early morning, and the open kitchen was silent. It was just them. What did they have to hide?

Crypto’s smile was weak, and embarrassed, perhaps still not used to the shift between professionalism and PDA. His voice cracked a little as he continued with his train of thought. “S-so, where are we going?”

Loba pulled her hands away from him, tucking her arm into his with a solemn nod, as if to hype herself up. “The closest thing I remember being a home to me. ...To Olympus.”

The ride was quiet, but they both were tense. Loba knew that Crypto never liked crowds, not much - it was bad enough that a handful of the legends knew who he really was, but being so visible was a threat, even if these people had never heard of Taejoon Park before. She reached a hand over to him without looking to make it obvious, feeling for his hand to hold onto for comfort, as she knew the way his eyes fell on her and his face softened in a way that only she knew. The thief gave him a glance, and a small smile, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles, to comfort him, but also perhaps to comfort herself, as through the window the overview of the city so foggy in her memories became clearer. It was so different, and yet... not at all. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it kept coming back, enough to make it hard for her to breathe as they left the landing zone and headed down a familiar road, being dropped off at the front of an extravagant building, where pedestrians entered through lavish double doors. She exited the taxi they had shared, a hand holding onto the door for a moment before she quietly shut it.

“Damn rain,” she grumbled, though it was certainly half-hearted, pulling out her cane and extending it to lean against it, in the way she usually did, her other hand over her eyes to avoid damage to her makeup.

Behind her, the taxi started up again, driving away as the hacker now joined her at her side, hands in his pockets. He hummed.

“What?”

“You haven’t told me everything about yourself. If I knew any better, I would make a joke that this was your second home… the gaudiness is fitting. But…” He looked over to her, and the way she stared back at him.

Loba swallowed. “Yes, well I… the loss of my family to that… demon… meant I have lost my home, my heritage. I have no grave to return my good wishes to, so I…” With her cane, she gestured towards the building in front of them - to the restaurant where all but one little girl had lost her life over twenty years before.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, the only sound being the sound of rain that his the pavement leading up to the glowing restaurant doors.

“I feel my papa would have liked you.”

“Hm?” He glanced down to her, how the rain fell down the sides of her face and how the gloomy sunlight cast a dark shadow over her eyes.

“He would have liked you. From… what I remember, anyway. He was a kind man, a family man. ...Yes, he would have liked you.” Her voice quivered as she repeated herself.

“...Loba, I-”

“-And mama would have too. Oh, the things she would say, I can almost hear them, in a distant sort of way. ‘Mi yerno es un ángel.’, I think is the phrase she’d say… I-I’m sure she would call us married already, she was a housewife type despite her… her profession-”

“Loba.”

The thief’s mouth hung open in her rambles, before she looked up to Crypto, still standing in the rain with his hands in his pockets, hair flat against his face. The shadow over her eyes fell now, mascara running down her cheeks as she wiped the nose with the back of her hand in an uncharacteristically sloppy way. “...Am I doing them wrong, Park? Have I done bad by them?”

He didn’t know what to say. He’d never had this issue before, not for himself - what was done with him was done, and he had no one to mourn… no parents, and no sister. He quickly swallowed before he could ride down that thought path. Reaching a hand out of his pocket, he took hers and gently squeezed. “You… are an amazing woman. They know that, surely, from where they reside. Regardless of what you have done, or will do, you are still theirs. Be proud.”

That’s when her face, that had tried so hard to remain like stone despite her tears, wrinkled, and her grip on his hand grew tighter with a squeeze, before she burst into sobs and practically threw herself onto him, burying her face into his shoulder, as if to hide her dignity, her hands moving to claw onto his back and hold it as if he would leave her at a moments notice.

He didn’t move, unsure if she would shatter in his arms like fragile glasswork, so perfect and delicate as she shook in the cold and the pressure of containing herself, but soon Crypto held her back, and brought her close, the warmth still foreign to him, even after all the times that had done this behind closed doors. No… it was never like this. Loba was strong, she held her cards close to her chest, and only let herself be vulnerable when she knew she had nothing to lose - and to her, she still had everything to lose. Losing her legacy, her revenge on the simulacrum that took her life away from her. The hacker held her close, holding the back of her head with a hand, quietly shushing her muffled sobs as he ran a hand through her hair, now knotted and wavy with the rain.

“Te amo,” she whispered into his neck, before pulling away and looking up to him, smiling despite herself as she wiped her eye, now red, though not like her usual makeup attire, with the back of her finger, smiling despite herself as she moved a hand to brush at his shoulder. “Sorry about the makeup all over your coat.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, moving to cup her face with one hand and brush his thumb under her other eye, still wet from tears. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You will be fine. Saranghae.”

#apex rarepair week #apex legends #cryptloba #crypto #loba #apex legends tag #dahl.doc

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

Text

The Writing on the Wall (4/?)

We finally meet Benoit

TW for an uncomfortable and unwanted sexual situation.

“How much further is it?” She hadn’t been this far away from the center of the camp before. Marta had a general idea of where the lake was, but it would take some time to figure out the paths and the sun was setting. This far into the woods it wouldn’t take long to get dark.

“Just around the next bend. You’re going to like this.” Ransom was just a few steps ahead of her. He’d sat with her at lunch and had been strangely attentive and charming. Usually he just ignored her, and for the past week since he’d arrived had barely said a word to her. When she’d been little the seven year age difference between them seemed momentous; she’d still been in elementary school when he was a senior in high school. Once he left for college he was the family member least likely to attend a holiday event. Often she only saw him at Christmas; no one in the family dared miss that one day. In Ransom’s case it was probably more about the presents; her papa didn’t believe in saving gifts. If you didn’t show up you didn’t get your present, and his gifts were always generous. The year Ransom had graduated college it had been a new car..

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.” He had told her about the small lake he’d found, more private then the one lined by cottages and filled with canoes and people. Thinking that solitude wouldn’t be unwelcome she’d agreed to go with him, but she was getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea. He never talked to her, why was he being nice now?

“We’re here already.” True to his word they had reached a small lake. Pond was perhaps a better descriptor; it was perhaps twice a big as their swimming pool at home. Ransom was right about privacy, though. There was no one else around.

“How did you find it?” He wasn’t exactly an ‘explore the wilderness’ type. From what she knew of him he preferred private clubs and expensive meals to walking in the woods.

“I heard someone talking. You like this type of thing, don’t you? The whole rustic lifestyle.” He didn’t sneer but it felt like a subtle dig. She’d grown up in a home bigger than his, but her mom had lived in a one bedroom apartment when she met papa and had retained her Cuban accent all her life. Both she and Alice had a little of it too, something that made her papa happy.

“It’s nice. Sometimes it can be refreshing to unplug from all the technology and relax.” Alice wouldn’t agree, of course. Ransom probably wouldn’t either.

“It would be a good place to go swimming.”

“Maybe some other time. I don’t have my suit on.” Alice and Meg both seemed to live in theirs, but she only put hers on when she was planning on going into the water. She wasn’t interested in tanning and she didn’t like the looks she got when she wore a swimsuit without a shirt.

“Neither do I, but we could always go au natural. There’s no one else around.” Before Marta had a chance to register what he was suggesting his hand was on the first one of her buttons, slipping it out of the hole. She jerked back.

“What are you doing?” The single button didn’t expose much, but she clutched the fabric together.

“After three years of college I would hope you’re better at recognizing a move than that. You don’t actually spend all of your time studying, do you?” He uttered ‘studying’ almost as if it was an insult.

“We’re family.” It felt ridiculous to remind him that he was her nephew. She never thought of him that way, but even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, the connection made things too weird.

“Are we really? How much do we really know about each other?” He walked around her, circling behind so she couldn’t see him without turning her head. His breath was warm on the back of her neck but it made her shiver. “I’d like to get to know you better, Marta. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Papa says you used to play Go with him. We could play sometime.” It was important to her papa that she tried to connect to the family. She didn’t want to alienate Ransom.

“Not the kind of fun I was thinking of.” If it had been someone else she might have liked the feel of his lips on her neck. She might have enjoyed the hand that groped her breast. But it was Ransom and he was holding on too tight. She tried to pull away but he only laughed as he turned her around. “If I have to spend my summer here there should be some perks.”

His mouth was demanding and unpleasantly minty tasting. When he pressed into her Marta took a step back, finding herself trapped against a tree, the bark sharp against her skin through her thin blouse.

“No.” She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed as hard as she could, managing to make him stumble back a step. “If you leave now I won’t tell anyone.”

“Who would believe you?” He straightened his monogrammed polo shirt and tilted his head to the side. He was right, there were plenty of people that would believe whatever he said. He was good at making people believe what he said. But not everyone.

“Papa would.” It would hurt him. It hurt her, to imagine the look in his eyes. She worried about how he would react. “Just leave and we can forget this happened.”

“You probably don’t even know enough to make it interesting.” He looked very pointedly at her breasts and then further down before shrugging and turning to leave. “You’re not going to get a better offer.”

Marta counted to ten after he left before her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer, they were shaking so hard. She collapsed to the ground. Despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing a suit she thought about jumping in the water, washing away Ransom’s touch and the taste of him. If only she could make herself move.

“Do you require assistance? Guests don’t usually come so close to the staff cabins.” Marta wasn’t sure how long she stared at the water before the voice startled her. The warm southern accent was as unlike Ransom’s voice as it was possible to be, but she still found herself shifting away.

“I’m fine.” It was a lie, of course, The untruth of the statement wasn’t the only reason she found herself leaning over and losing her lunch, but at least she wasn’t shaking as much when she was done.

“I’m sure you are but it’s going to be dark soon and it’s easy to get lost around here. Perhaps I might escort you back?” To Marta’s surprise the man that she recognized from the dancing the other night didn’t seem disgusted by her vomiting. Rather he stepped towards her slowly and offered her a hand. He stopped shy of touching her, giving her time to make the choice to accept his offer.

His eyes were bluer than the water of her mom’s native Cuba. She hadn’t been able to see his eyes when he was dancing. His hand was warm, which didn’t surprise her. She almost missed his touch when he released her hand after she was steady on her feet. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” His smile faded into a frown. “Are you cold?”

Marta opened her mouth to protest again that she was fine, but she was suddenly too tired to pretend anything other than the truth. “A little.”

“If you might allow me?” He peeled off his sweatshirt, holding it out to her. She’d seen plenty of people in the green sweatshirts with the camp logo, but she was certain none of them smelled the same. He didn’t smell of cologne like she might have expected. There was a hint of something almost floral under the smell of soap and pine trees.

“Won’t you get cold?” Just holding it in her arms made her feel better. She was reminded of a blanket she’d carried around until she was five when it had been destroyed in a superhero cape incident.

“I’ll have to take it off as soon as I get to the lodge anyway, and I think it would do you more good than me right now. It’s just about a mile to the lodge from here, are you okay to walk that far? I’m afraid this path is too narrow for the golf cart, but if you don’t feel up to it the staff cabins are closer. You could lay down for a bit if you needed; this time of night the place is pretty quiet.”

“I can walk.” The last thing she needed was to have to explain to her papa why she was missing from dinner. Breakfast and lunch he usually wouldn’t notice, but they always had dinner together at the lodge. Marta pulled the sweatshirt on over her head. The arms were too long, almost covering her hands, but she didn’t mind. “Thank you again, Mr…”

“You can call me Benoit. It’s Benoit Blanc but no one calls me Mr. I’ll answer to just about anything, though, as long as it’s not Benny.”

“You don’t look like a Benny.” Listening to his voice helped her to focus on where she was now and nothing else. His voice and her “I’m not going to make you late, am I?”

“Not at all, ma’am.”

She shook her head. She was never comfortable with people calling her ma’am. It happened sometimes when she traveled with papa, but it always felt strange. “Please, it’s just Marta.”

“Everyone’s heading for dinner, Marta, and it will be more than an hour before anyone’s looking for me. It’s nice to have the time to take a nice quiet walk in the woods. Reminds me of when I was a boy, though the trees up here are a bit different from what I grew up with down in South Carolina.”

“A place like this is as rustic as papa gets, but when we were little mom would set up camp in the backyard for me and Alice. I loved making s’mores over the campfire. Papa would tell the best stories at bedtime, and mom would stay in the tent with us,” Papa’s stories had been scary even then, until mom had given him a look and they somehow always ended in a joke that would have them laughing. They had laughed a lot when her mom had been alive.

“Alice is your sister?”

“Yeah,” Her only sister, in all but biology. Certainly Linda would have never been interested in campouts in the backyard. Thinking about Linda reminded her of Ransom, distracting her enough that her foot caught in a root. She might have fallen if not for her companion. Marta wondered if it was the dancing that gave him such quick reflexes, or if he was always like that.

“There’s a nice log up ahead just a dozen feet or so. Makes a nice place to sit a spell.” They rounded the corner and true to his word there was a log on the side of the path, looking just perfectly placed enough to suggest that it hadn’t fallen there by accident. Any branches that might have been there originally were worn away, making it a comfortable place to set. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” For a moment the only sound was an owl hooting, and she was glad of the quiet.

Benoit seemed to understand. They sat next to each other for a few more minutes without saying a word, but the silence was companionable. It wasn’t until she made a move to stand that he stood as well. This time when he offered his hand she took it easily.

#cablanca #benoit x marta #marta x benoit #benoit blanc #marta cabrera #verse: the writing on the wall

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celticat21 · 3 years

Note

4, 7, 22 >Any OC- OC Child asks

@vikinglumberjack thanks for the ask! This would take forever if I went with all of them, so I’m only answering for Alessa (Lance and Mila), Freya (Cypress, Sage, and Magnolia), and Zira (Masha and Vaurie). Credit to @catboyrosethorn for helping to come up with names and traits.

4. What are the meanings behind the children’s names, if they DO have meanings? Were they named after someone?

Lance was chosen simply because I like the name, and always have. It just sounded regal to me when I heard it when I was little and I’ve liked it since.

Mila is short for Militsa, which means “dear, kind, loving” from what I could tell.

Cypress, Sage, and Magnolia were all chosen because they are plant names and Vlastomil likes gardening. Those names being amongst their favorite plants. While Freya’s favorite is almond grass for the smell, it doesn’t make a good baby name.

Masha already had the name when Zira found her, but its another name I’ve personally liked for a while. If I’m being honest though she was partially named after one of the Little Sisters from Bioshock, and i had drawn her in a dress that resembles theirs.

Vaurie was named after the Vaurie’s nightjar, a type of bird. We just thought the name was cool, and they thusly have a nightjar as a familiar, but also a jar with “night time” inside of it. Like lightning in a bottle but much easier to catch.

7. The children’s first words?

Lance and Mila both said “dada” and made Julian cry for hours.

Vlastomil swears Cypress’s first word was “worm” though Freya thinks it was just him mumbling gibberish, she doesn’t have the heart to say otherwise.

Sage said “Papa”.

Magnolia said “bug”.

Zira was not around for Masha’s first words, since Masha was adopted when she was around four earth years old, but in her orphanage it was “baby”, said after looking in a mirror.

Vaurie’s first word was “mama”, followed closely by “Ren” (said as wen), Valdemar’s parental name.

22. What kind of people do the children grow up to be? What do they do?

Lance would grow up to be a great fighter and end up joining the royal guard. He is a very kind hearted and compassionate person, but also a bit of a smart-ass. It’s all in good fun so he tries not to take it too far, but you might just have to tell him when.

Mila would probably take a while to figure out what she likes most. She loves magic, but running the shop seems boring to her. She likes studying medicine, but is horribly squeamish. She would probably be a “jack-of-all-trades” sort and end up doing a bunch of things. Her own business she runs becomes something of a mall, with her running all the businesses. As a person she is also very caring, but has her mothers fiery temper. She is very creative and always puts 100% into whatever she’s doing.

Cypress would find an interest in history and Fjodr culture like his mother. He takes great pride in his heritage and is eager to tell others about it. He may even become a teacher. He was always a good student and could soak up information like a sponge, but easily explain it to others. He may end up accidentally coming off as snobbish, however, due to his blunt nature.

Sage would have an interest in gardening and might open a flower shop/stall at the market with fresh produce. He’s sensitive, and emotionally intelligent. He is a big believer in charity, as are his siblings, and he donates food to the children on the docks often. He also gives them odd jobs to do for money.

Magnolia is very stubborn. Try telling her what to do and its a sure fire way to get her not to do something. She isn’t stupid, however, and if you tell her not to do something like sweep the floor, she gladly won’t do it and say “I’m just doing what you told me to!” Despite this, she is not a very rude person. Her stubbornness shows mostly when she feels cheated or gets in an argument with someone. She would become something of an entomologist, as she grew up loving bugs and wanting to mess with them and learn about them.

Masha is interested in so many things, but being in Vesuvia, a completely different world from her own, her interests went crazy! There is just... so much stuff to learn! All the time, theres something new! New animals, new cultures, new food; its so much! She finds a deeper interest in archeology and zoology. She was always interested of the animals here and in her home dimension, but after growing up a little bit and discovering old and ruined buildings she discovered a love of archeology.

Vaurie shared Masha’s love of animals and Valdemar’s love of science and medicine (if you could call it that?) and would grow up to be a vet. Though, they are still very interested in humans as they are so different from what Vaurie is. They would end up helping Valdemar with autopsy’s and such and studying the human body that way, but they don’t really have an interest in caring for them. Not because they hate humans, but they don’t like dealing with them. Especially if they’re going to be a cranky patient.

#Asks #Child asks #OC child #OC #Alessa #Zira #Freya

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celestialtitania · 5 years

Text

Breaking Down

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Marinette clenched her fists to hide her trembling hands. Lila's lies were spiraling out of control. Her own mother, her own mother was supporting Lila.

“Marinette! Are you listening to me?” Usually Marinette would fold underneath Sabine's gaze, a mixture of disappointment and sorrow. Sabine didn't have to get angry to make Marinette feel awful and apologetic.

Today though, today wasn't the same. Lila had been lying all day at school. She was always lying but today Lila had claimed that Jagged Stone and XY both wanted her to be their muse. Marinette knew immediately it was a lie, XY and Jagged didn't even have the same style! Moreover, XY didn't even make his own music.

Kitty Section knew that. XY had said so in front of them! But they too said nothing, only frowning at Marinette. Adrien had just looked at her, pleading for Marinette to let it go, since she couldn’t win. She had. She owed Adrien for getting her back in school, so she stopped fighting. Her irritation hadn’t diminished though. She had worked with Jagged quite often, and knew much of his hatred of XY. If he knew he was being compared to XY, Jagged would be upset enough to get akumatized. As one of the few people who believed in her work, Marinette felt compelled to stand up for his beliefs. But knowing no one would believe her, she’d kept quiet.

Marinette had come home straight after school where Sabine, having noticed her daughter's bad mood, asked what had happened at school. Marinette had taken the opportunity to tell her mother everything. Sabine though, wouldn’t hear of it.

She’d told Marinette that she should let it go. That it wasn’t Lila’s fault she had a disease causing her to lie and Sabine had raised Marinette to be considerate of other people. How could Marinette then go and attack this poor girl for something she cannot control? Sabine had believed better of Marinette, and she absolutely had to go apologize to Lila tomorrow. In front of everyone, after how Marinette must have completely humiliated the hapless girl, who despite her many problems fought so hard to do what she loved.

Lila’s lies had made Marinette become the horrible child in her mother’s eyes. Marinette bowed her head, unable to look at Sabine, feeling her eyes burn.

“S-sorry maman,” Marinette stammered before dashing to her room. She heard Sabine call after her, but didn’t respond, her only destination being her bed.

As soon as her door closed, Tikki flew out of her purse. “Are you alright Marinette?” Seeing the tears brimming in her eyes, the little kwami panicked. “Don’t cry! It’ll be okay!”

Marinette took a deep breath after swallowing the lump in her throat. She silently counted to ten, whilst pinching herself, to calm herself down. She climbed onto her loft bed, huddled against her pillows. Then Marinette spoke, barely louder than a whisper “Lila has maman on her side now. Papa too, I bet. I’ve become the cruel one who disregards other people’s feelings, as far as they’re concerned. Even Chloe couldn’t manage to do that!”

“It’s like your friends. They’ll all learn with time,” Tikki tried to soothe her. Marinette shook her head.

“It isn’t the same Tikki. I’m used to being alone at school. Before Alya and being Ladybug, no one wanted to be my friend. If they even hinted at it, Chloe would make their lives miserable. It wasn’t their fault, and they were all quite nice behind her back. But still, I was alone.

So when Lila pushed me to be alone, I was hurt because I hadn’t expected that from Alya, not with how much she wants to stand up for everyone. And you know I hate liars.”

Marinette looked right at Tikki, and without any emotion in her voice told Tikki, “You don’t expect things from people you don’t entirely trust.”

Tikki had blinked at that, obviously not expecting it from her holder. Marinette was tired of pretending though, of pretending that she had, for even a second, thought one of her classmates would stand up for her. Her parents on the other hand? Her parents had held the entirety of her trust and affection.

Today, thanks to Lila, Marinette felt that she never truly held theirs. Not if they so easily believed Lila and her fake disease. Marinette had looked it up afterwards. Lila was no pathological liar, A type of compulsive maybe, but not at all pathological. Marinette would even go so far as to Lila displayed behaviours similar to that of a sociopath. But that didn’t excuse her from being a decent human being.

“Marinette! Please calm down!” Tikki begged. Marinette blinked, looking around herself. She hadn’t even noticed how tightly she was gripping her blankets. Seeing Tikki look so worried, brought Marinette back to herself.

She opened her arms to give Tikki a hug. Marinette wouldn’t let herself get akumatized, She’d never let Hawk Moth get her miraculous or let Lila have the satisfaction.

“Marinette? I think you should leave Lila alone from now on.” Marinette grew cold, as she moved backwards to stare at Tikki. “What do you mean?” She asked numbly.

“I’m saying that Lila’s going to keep lying, but the only one getting hurt is you! So let her lie. Ignore it. Alya has been willing to keep you two apart right? Just keep doing that. Make Lila irrelevant to you.”

Marinette squared her shoulders. “You’re saying, if I can’t beat them, I should join them?” Tikki nodded emphatically. “So I should pretend to believe her? No matter the lie?”

“No!” Tikki cried. “More like, pretend she doesn’t exist?” Marinette frowned clearly unhappy with the idea.

Tikki sighed. “You’re already being forced to apologize to her in front of everyone in your class. I’m just trying to come up with ideas to keep you from suffering because of Lila, Marinette.”

Letting Lila go on lying didn’t sit right with Marinette. She knew Tikki didn’t like it either, but had no clue how to proceed. Marinette shook her head, unable to think any further. She was emotionally drained enough for one day.

“I’m going to sleep Tikki. Maybe something will come to me in a dream?” She joked weakly. Tikki nodded. The ladybug kwami hovered for a while, until Marinette had dozed off. This couldn’t continue.

Marinette would never stop trying to expose Lila. It was part of her character as Ladybug. Tikki would have to come up with something that would stop Lila once and for all. For that, Tikki knew exactly whose help she would enlist.

Lila Rossi would be very sorry, very soon.

#new to tumblr #new to miraculous #miraculous salt #after Ladybug #unbeta'd #miraculous ladybug #ml salt fic #lila salt #all the salt #breaking down

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solohux · 4 years

Text

@anonymous submitted: That one time Ben Solo and Poe Dameron decided to go on vacation together and how it all went terribly wrong (Feat. Hux!)

Way back when, 13 year old Ben Solo was terribly stressed. While his Uncle was away on a cool Force-artifact finding mission (Ben was rather put out that he didn’t get to go), he was stuck babysitting a dozen of his fellow Padawans. This was intended to give Ben a taste of responsibility and be a confidence booster…. But mostly ended up being a nightmare for him. Looking after a dozen children would be a tall order for any young teenager to handle, let alone a dozen Force Sensitive children…. Some of whom weren’t much younger than Ben himself and thus weren’t inclined to listen to him anyway.

Ben was breaking down into a bout of frustrated tears and starting to pull his hair out when his next door neighbor and best friend Poe Dameron showed up! The sixteen year old may not have been Force Sensitive, but he was a natural with children (As the eldest child of the Yavin IV rebel colony, he’d had a lot of practice looking after his younger cohorts!) and the other Padawans both adored and respected him. He was older and thus considered “cooler” than Ben and even Ben himself secretly agreed with that assumption. Needless to say, Ben --sort-of-didn’t-but-really-did-- begged for him to stay and help him out.

Poe was happy to stay! He genuinely loved children and definitely loved Ben (Not that he would admit that!).... But after a week of Force related antics, even he was getting a little worn thin. So he did what most teenagers who grew up in a space-faring society would do, decided that he and Ben needed a vacation off-planet! Granted, they can’t go on a “real” vacation, but an overnight camping trip to one of Yavin’s other inhabitable moons should be do-able. Master Luke was due back tomorrow afternoon anyway, so surely the kids would be okay for just one night, right?

Ben was initially worried that his Uncle would be “disappointed” with him if he came back to find the Padawans abandoned and his nephew off camping with his “friend” *CoughBoyfriendCough* on some other moon, but Poe managed to convince him of the merits of the plan. So Ben put the eldest child in charge (Which that 12 and a half year old didn’t appreciate) and set off to the Dameron family farm with Poe. After puzzling over which ship they should use to blast off in, Poe decided that his late mother’s A-Wing would suffice. It might be a tight fit for two, but they aren’t planning to go far anyway.

(Ben: But won’t your father notice if that ship is missing? Poe: Nah, it’s usually parked in the old barn and Papa almost never goes in there. Besides, it’s technically my ship now anyway. Mama said that I could have it right before she… you know.)

And so, the two young teens prepped the old ship for flight, squeezed inside the cockpit and lifted off of Yavin IV.

They ran into trouble virtually as soon as they were clear of the moon’s atmosphere.

The old A-Wing may have served Shara Bey well during the war, but her son… may have been a bit neglectful in keeping the old warbird in good repair after her untimely death. Not that Poe didn’t love the old ship! But like any teenager, he had a lot going on in his daily life and he was always eager to try incorporating the latest and greatest tech into the aging spacecraft, rather than checking to see if the original hardware was still totally functional. In any case, it was the engine that was the problem.

Apparently leaving the atmosphere was just too much for the old clunker to handle, because it coughed out one final breath and then seized up, leaving the boys effectively stranged. Poe did his best to keep calm, while Ben got nervous. But after much switch-flipping, wire-fiddling and even crawling under the seat to see if he (Poe that is, Ben may have been younger, but he was already taller than his friend and thus could not fit!) could reach the engine compartment, the boys realized that their was little to nothing that they could do to get the engine to restart.

So Poe resolved to use the computer to contact the Yavin IV authorities and ask for help. It was going to be horribly embarrassing to have his mother’s old comrades give him a tow back down to the surface --Not to mention, his father was certainly going to hear about it-- but he felt that their was no other choice. So he apologized to Ben about the vacation being cancelled, but reassured him that help would soon be on the way. Only opps, when Poe tried to use the computer, it didn’t work! It turned out that new upgrade he installed onto it last month wasn’t entirely compatible with the original operating system. So calling for help was not an option now.

Poe was now rather distressed himself, it wasn’t likely that he and Ben were in any real danger --The Yavin IV rebel colony received visits from all sorts of people and most any ship could give them a tow-- but it could be hours before anyone happened upon them! Maybe even a whole day! That meant not only no vacation, but a disappointed Master for Ben and an unamused father for him! Ben just grew sullen, it seemed that whenever he tried to do anything ever so slightly off the path set out for him, something bad happened.

But then!

A ship came out of hyperspeed nearly on top of them! After the initial “Oh Stars! That ship nearly crashed into us! We could of died!” reaction, the boys realized that they might be saved after all. The ship was small and unmarked, neither Poe nor Ben had seen anything quite like it. But they weren’t thinking about how odd that was, they were desperately trying to wave the ship down with flapping arms and hand signals.

They succeeded. The ship floated over towards them, coupled it’s airlock with theirs and the pilot called for them to come onboard. The boys looked at each other and beamed, maybe their vacation was saved after all!

Only that wasn’t the case, not at all.

Poe and Ben’s “savior” had no intention of helping them fix their ship or give them a tow home. 18 year old Armitage Hux, Cadet of The First Order was on the cusp of graduating from The Academy. He had come to Yavin IV to spy on the rebel colony and then report back to his father, Commandant Brendol Hux. All cadets of The First Order had to undertake a high-risk solo mission in order to prove themselves worthy of being sworn in as officers of The First Order. It was their equivalent of a final exam, the culmination of all that they had learned and worked for over many years of schooling.

And Armitage Hux had been the top of all of his classes and thus had no intention of failing.

Truthfully, Hux was prepared to shoot the A-Wings occupants dead if they proved not to be useful. He wasn’t pleased about nearly crashing into their ship (He was not about to die right before he graduated!), not to mention, their witnessing him entering the system in the first place put his mission in jeopardy.

So he made sure his blaster had a fresh charge in it and stepped out of the cockpit and into the ship’s foyer to meet his odd visitors.

He was not expecting two teenagers, the pair younger than him even! Ben and Poe were rather surprised to see the redheaded pilot didn’t have many years on them either.

Hux snapped at the pair to explain and identify themselves.

Poe immediately set about apologizing for the trouble, introduced himself and Ben and tried to charm the young man. Ben was rather smitten with Hux’s good looks too, but he barely even needed the Force to sense something concerning about the ginger’s demeanor.

Hux did his best to appear unimpressed, but once he heard the words “Ben Solo, apprentice to Jedi Master Luke Skywalker” he could barely contain his excitement. What luck! He had the child of Senator Leia Organa and the scoundrel Han Solo on his ship! This “Poe Dameron, son of Kes Dameron and Shara Bey” might perhaps be of use as well. He no longer needed to go down to Yavin IV and spy on the rebel colony, these two boys no doubt had all the intel he needed. Maybe they could even be of further use to The First Order after being rung dry off all that they knew!

So Hux changed plans. He would not shoot Ben and Poe dead, he would take them prisoner and whisk them away to the Unknown Regions. They would never see their friends or families ever again.

Hux pocketed the blaster and informed the pair that he would be happy enough to help them with their engine troubles, he even thought that he had the tools needed to make that a reality, but they were in back compartment of the ship and could they please help him get them. Poe eagerly agreed, Ben hung back uncertain. When he quietly brought up his concerns to Poe once Hux started leading the way to the other end of the ship, his friend protested.

Hux may be a surly stranger with a strange ship, but he had offered to help them and he was likely their only chance to save their vacation and get back down to Yavin IV before anyone was none the wiser. Despite his concerns, Ben conceded to Poe’s thoughts of their situation. But he told Poe that if Hux tried anything suspicious, he would have to Jedi Mind Trick him into letting them leave. Poe agreed that was a solid back up plan.

But this point Hux had the door at the back of the ship open and dryly asked them if they were done discussing whatever it was they were talking about, because he had places to be and he could only take so much time out of his busy schedule to help them. If they wanted to dally around, then they could do so in their own ship. Poe quickly assured the redhead that it was nothing, that they had somewhere to be too, grabbed Ben’s hand and marched them through the door.

The room contained no tools, but it did contain an inactive energy shield. It was designed as a transport cell, almost every ship made by The First Order had one. And when Poe and Ben stepped over the threshold, Hux activated the energy shield via a subtly hidden button. The boys were now trapped!

Needless to say:- Hux smirked, Poe gaped at him in horror and Ben scowled at Poe for not really listening to him in the first place. Poe demanded to know what the hell did Hux think he was trying to do, and like any good villain Hux immediately launched into a monologue about his plans for them. He actually couldn’t contain himself entirely this time, because he gleefully rubbed his hands, but he did refrain from launching into an evil laugh.

Afterwards, Poe yelled at him that he was insane and did he really think that he would get away with kidnapping him and Ben? Especially Ben! The son of the much loved Princess of Alderann and the smuggler with a million different contacts and connections? The nephew of the legendary Luke Skywalker, who could probably find him with a mere thought? Plus his Papa would no doubt launch a rescue effort of his own and then Hux would really be in for a world of hurt if that happened!

Hux just raised an eyebrow and asked him if he was quite done. At which point Ben called upon his connection to the Force and said in his most persuasive voice, “You’re going to disable the energy shield, allow us to walk off this ship and then lock yourself in this room”. It was a good effort for someone so young, Master had even praised Ben some time beforehand that he seemed to have a natural affinity for persuasive techniques.

But it didn’t work on Hux, because the boy who had endured a lifetime of abuse from his father, scorn from his instructors and jeers from his peers was anything but weak-minded.

Hux sneered at the two of them and went to close the door. Poe launched into another panicked triade about how “He’d be really sorry if he didn’t let them go!”, while Ben desperately tried the mind trick again. Nope, Hux still wasn’t intimated nor was he influenced.

Realizing that perhaps they were in-fact about to be kidnapped, Ben and Poe looked at each other and changed tactics. Poe started pleading and claiming that Hux “Didn’t really want to do this, he didn’t have to be evil, the New Republic could help him”, while Ben gave Hux his best set of puppy dog eyes, reached out towards Hux and said “Please”.

Shockingly, these methods actually had some sway over the ginger. Perhaps his cruel youth hadn’t completely stamped out Hux’s heart after all.

But he averted his eyes, shook his head and closed the door to the cell anyway.

He could still hear Poe and Ben’s protests and cries all the way inside the cockpit. As he reached for the ship’s computer to chart a course home and tell his father the good news, he was suddenly struck with indecision. Should he really do this? He’d spent all of his life amongst people who hated him, but now he had the opportunity to escape the whole lot of them. And these sad, pleading eyes stared back at him every time he blinked….

But he would finally make his father proud! And gain the respect and admiration from his teachers and classmates…. Right?

Would he? What should he do?

#submission #kylux #benpoe #daekpilot #AHHHHHHH!!!!!#i love this so much!!!!!#hux having conflict and maybe going to give into ben’s plea?#and the ben and poe bonding at the beginning!!!!#so lovely! i love this thank you so much for sharing this!!!!!

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leonkennedystuff · 5 years

Text

coming home (leon kennedy x reader)

[RE6!Leon]

Summary: ! REQUESTED ! If you are still taking requests, How about Leon (RE 6 or Vendetta) meeting younger reader parents? With a tense situation because reader parents thinks that Leon is very old for she, and Leon tries to win their approval to ask for reader hand(?

Warnings: none

this took FOREVER to make and I’m sorry for the quality of this - writer’s block was so bad :( I hope you still enjoy though, anon and other readers <3

(Note: This takes place pre-Resident Evil 6, more or less 2 months before the Tall Oaks incident to keep it as canon-compliant and neat as possible.)

Your restless hand runs through your thick, (H/C) hair once again – although you do it to put it in place, your unnecessary finger-combing does the opposite of that.

If it weren’t your repetitive movements, your restive lip-gnawing and your consecutive sighing was what made apparent how on edge you were currently feeling.

This was all too bittersweet, all of this – after nearly 3 years of being away, you were finally back in your hometown.

Seeing the quaint, two-story bungalow house of white and red brick made your heart swell with beautiful memories – of a time that seems like a lifetime ago, when the world hadn’t turned so malignant.

You didn’t realize just how much you ached to be home; now that your mind wasn’t inundated with your work, you finally felt full-force the weight of your pent-up homesickness.

Just standing in front of the weathered brown door got you feeling overwhelmed - like you couldn’t believe it was actually before your eyes. It was a very welcome change though; you were sick and tired of hopping from country to country, from hotel room to hotel room.

Although light chips littered the intricate floral patterns of the door’s face and more scratches decorated its surface, it holds a deep-rooted charm that was unlike any other. Sentimentality, you thought.

Your job had forced you to be away for so long from all that was familiar and comfortable, subjecting you to witness and experience first-hand the cruelties and terror of the world you and the rest of mankind now lived in.

Bio-organic weapons, mutations, viral outbreaks that reduce whole cities to non-existence… It was reality, the horrendous truth, and you were selected from your former position in the USSS for your great skills and your achievements to work under the D.S.O. operative of the United States government to combat these kinds of bioterrorism.

Although young at the just-turned age of 27, you’ve been an agent of theirs for 2 years now and you’ve seen unimaginable things – no matter how long and how much you’ve gone through, the heartbreak of losing a team mate, a friend, and the crippling fear towards these creatures only worsens each time it’s encountered.

But it’s why you never stop fighting - no matter how daunting, no matter how perilous, no matter how deadly.

You want nothing more but to avenge the lives lost in the grips of these terrorists, to protect places dear to you like here, (Your Home Town), and people like your parents. For you, there were no greater reasons than those.

Picking absent-mindedly at the hangnails on your fingers, your bright (E/C) eyes shift from the familiar door of your childhood and to the tall, handsome man beside you.

Your line of work is dangerous, probably one of the most precarious jobs available, if not the most. It’s left you with permanent scars – on your body and on your psyche. Indeed, saving the world time and time again came with grave and detrimental prices but if there was one thing you were tremendously grateful for in your time as an agent – it’s him. Without a doubt.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your partner – in and out of the field.

“Are you alright?” You break the silence, a nervous smile making its way to your face as your fingers continue to fidget with one another. You couldn’t help the unusual grin; something about the current situation was both nerve-wracking as it was droll - for you, anyway.

Evidently, your voice caused the distracted blonde man to crash back down from whatever thoughts were running wild in his head. He turns his attention to you, blinking before a small grin of his own widens his lips.

“I am,” He replies, although you sense that he wasn’t being totally honest. Despite the kind and reassuring look he was displaying, his impeccably blue eyes still seemed occupied with thoughts.

You don’t press on it though, mostly because you knew he just didn’t want to admit the tension he was feeling. It was mutual; you didn’t want to make each other more nervous than you already were.

“Ready?” You glance over him one more time, a thoughtful nod accompanying your movements. Leon gives you his green light with his own head moving up and down, a lungful of air exhaled in a form of a sigh.

You reach out to take his large, slightly calloused hand in your softer, smaller one and give it a heartening squeeze. Wanting to return his own support, he tenderly steals a moment to bring your knuckles to his soft lips.

Your face flushes and you try to contain the smile threatening to rip the corners of your mouth; the fullness of his skin and the feeling of it soft and flush against yours made it almost impossible though.

Be still, restless heart, you chastise yourself, shaking your head.

As he lets go, you gingerly bring your hand up to the doorbell, taking in a deep breath before pressing it firmly, feeling the old thing click under your touch. Hearing the faint buzz resonate from inside, the nerves that you thought had finally settled instantly returns – this time with a vengeance, hitting you harder than before.

Your whole body was in turmoil after sealing your faith - stomach churning, chest pounding, face prickling, hands growing clammy.

You haven’t seen your parents in a very long time, a period much longer than you wanted – does your mother still wear the same perfume? Was your father still as healthy as you remember? How would you react seeing them? How would they react seeing you?

How would they react seeing Leon, or when you introduce him as the man you’ve been dating for a year and a half now? Or when they find out how much younger you were compared to him, if they haven’t already noticed just by looking at you both– you, still fresh-faced and barely north of being 27, and him, more matured, in the middle of being 36?

Definitely, there was an age-gap running between you both – but it didn’t matter to you, and Leon, although struggling sometimes with insecurity, knew that the care and love he had dwarves the doubts that would sometimes cloud his head. You were his best friend and, on top of that, the person he trusted the most.

“Who is it?” A gentle voice, slightly faint from the distance, calls from beyond the door, footsteps padding and more audible as they grew closer.

The breath you take is shaky, and it’s like the inside of your chest shakes with it; you could recognize that motherly voice anywhere and hearing it in person for the first time in years makes your eyes grow moist.

Beside you, Leon catches your emotions. You’ve told him about your parents and your golden childhood; how close you were to both your mom and dad and how heartbroken they were to send their only child off. He knew you missed them terribly, but he didn’t quite expect this. He couldn’t help but smile.

Leon takes a small sidestep to close the distance between your bodies and rests his warm hand on your hip, an effort to be encouraging. You melt into his side, moving into his touch, his familiar aroma filling your lungs and your own hand hovering over his.

When the door in front of you both finally opens, you – as if on cue- tighten your grip on the blonde man.

Your mother appears and you let your breath go, not even realizing you were holding it. Your heart had started to race, and it seemed that hers’ was as well.

“(Y/N)?” Your mom peers through the screen door, her aged (Y/M/E/C) eyes wide at the sight of you, like she was seeing a ghost. You were probably gaping at her the same way; asides from a few strands of white hair and a slimmer face, she looked the same way – healthier, even.

“Mom,” You beam, your voice catching slightly as you take a step forward, like her figure had beckoned you over.

Hearing your voice, your mother looked like she was going to have a heart attack right then and there. “Oh, my life!” She exclaims, her right hand clutching her chest, “(Y/D/N)! Come here, quick! Hurry!” Your mom calls for your father, turning her head for just a split-second before quickly whipping back to you, as if afraid you’ll disappear from view if she looked away for too long.

“Come on in, come in – my dear girl, I can’t believe it!” She sobs, rushing to open the door that divided your bodies and letting you and Leon enter the house. It seems, though, that her shock was still too overwhelming for her to notice the man you had brought with you.

Once inside, you were immediately wrapped in a tight and very earnest embrace. You returned it with just as much vigor, feeling your heart soar in a way that made you lightheaded. If a simple action could make for lost time, this embrace would bring years back.

“What’s going o- (Y/N)!?”

Your head quickly turns to see your dad appearing from behind the cedar wood staircase. Your attempt in keeping your tears behind your eyes had been fruitful until this very moment – watching your father’s kind (Y/D/E/C) eyes widen at you finally broke the dam.

“Papa!” You sob softly as he rushes over, his arms overlapping your mom’s to join in a hug that was long overdue. For a tranquil moment, the three of you remain as you are – huddled together in a reunion that’s been yearned for years.

It seemed like your eyes were closed for minutes, just basking in the warmth of your parents, and when you finally reopen them, the first thing in your line of sight is your partner, smiling thoughtfully. Regardless the enthralled look on his face that suggested he didn’t mind being minded, you felt very bashful for having momentarily forgotten about him.

You straighten yourself a little bit, causing your parent’s hold on you to loosen up slightly. Your knowing gaze doesn’t leave Leon’s sapphire regard when you grin at him, nodding with silent intent.

“Mom, dad,” You break away, their eyes following your hand as you gesture towards Leon - Leon who already had a polite smile on his full lips and masking perfectly the small jabs of his nerves.

You could have chuckled seeing your parents’ surprise to finally take notice of him. Your dad was the first one to approach; he looked so grateful making his way towards Leon and you were in awe.

The reason as to why you were nervous bringing him home and introducing him to your parents was because of how conservative they can be and how nit-picky it tends to make them. You were anxious with their reaction, especially with the age-gap. Although they don’t dictate your decisions, you wanted terribly for them to like and approve of Leon.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. -?” Your father clamps Leon’s hand in a firm handshake, regarding the blonde man with the utmost interest as he waits for his name.

Leon returns the grip, “Kennedy, Leon Kennedy,” He nods with the best of manners.

“Mr. Leon Kennedy,” Your father smiles, looking back at you for a second to send you a quick wink. You frown at him playfully. “I take it that you’re (Y/N)’s boss?” He asks, although sounding more like a conversational statement rather than a legitimate question.

With that, the frown on your face quickly turns real. Oh no, you thought.

You clear your throat, catching your dad’s attention.

“Papa, Leon isn’t my boss,” You start with a soft shake of your head, chuckling a little despite the nervous somersaults in your stomach. Your eyes move to rest on your mom beside you before returning to your dad who was beginning to look a little confused.

Taking a breath, you walk over to the blonde man – to the man who has been home to you for the few years gone by and - you hope and pray - for many more to come.

Despite your small worry, you take his hand in your own, looking up to him warmly and finding comfort in his beautiful ocean-eyes. You relax even more when his thumbs run across the humps of your knuckles.

“Leon is my boyfriend.”

____________________________

Your hands were wrapped around a white ceramic mug filled with tea, black tea, and you were thankful for the warmth your palms were stealing from it. Moreover, you were thankful to have something to hold and have your nails tap at when the tense silence in the dining table grew.

Around a quarter of an hour has passed since your formal introduction of Leon and it was more than accurate to say that your parents were not over the moon with it.

For Christ’s sake, your father thought he was your damn boss! You remind yourself, hastily so.

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a small sip and focusing on the faint bitter tones invading your mouth. You weren’t thirsty, you weren’t so crazy over tea either, but it was better to do something - anything at all- even for just a few seconds, to distract from the torn expressions on your parents’ faces.

“So, uh, how long have you both been together?” Your dad clears his throat, trying to start a conversation with a smile that seemed way too conflicted to pass as genuine.

“A year and a half now,” You answer him, bringing his eyes and attention to rest on you. He merely says ‘Ah’ and nods his head, giving your mom a quick look before looking back at his own drink, as if to say ‘Your turn’.

It took a lot of will to keep the peeved sigh from escaping past your mouth; you didn’t like the turn your homecoming took. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect their initial reaction, but you didn’t expect it to bother them this much.

“So, Leon, how long have you been working in the DSO?” Indeed, it was your mom’s turn to say something. All eyes, including yours, look to the man beside you.

Leon moves his hands from resting on the tabletop to his lap, dusting his fitted black jeans despite the absence of any stain or lint. You understood his slight unease – he didn’t like talking about his work to civilians, it brought back some very vivid memories he’d do almost anything to forget.

“Since 2011, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” He replies kindly, which your appreciated.

In the DSO, Leon was the prime operative, the main agent, especially valued by Mr. Adam Benford, the founder of the organization and the President of the United States.

You’ve heard of Leon Scott Kennedy prior to being transferred from the USSS; “The Raccoon City Survivor”, “Operation Javier’s Golden Boy,” “President Graham’s favorite agent” – these were just some of the titles he’s earned himself from past missions that you knew him by. Regardless the silly labels though, your coworkers from the DHS respected him a lot.

So, when you found out you were to be tested as a fit to be his field partner? You were beyond intimidated by the task, but were extremely overjoyed and flattered when you were chosen out of the other potential agents. To work with someone so skilled and so praised the way Leon was – you knew you wouldn’t get another opportunity.

Never in your wildest dreams nor did it ever cross your mind once that you were going to fall in love with him though; albeit you were 25 at the time, you were mature and a professional in your job and that entailed professionalism in all aspects. His attractiveness, though not unnoticed, had never bothered you and his seldom thoughtful comments was only enough to make you blush.

So, naturally, it came as a huge surprise to not only you, but Leon as well when the easiness of your friendship and comradery blossomed into something so much deeper and intimate – much deeper and intimate than you both saw coming.

It didn’t take long when you and him started to develop profound emotions for each other – it took just a matter of months but strung along for a year and a half now.

You love him, you really do, and you know he does too.

Breaking yourself from your own reverie, you tuck your plump bottom lip between your teeth and bask in the feeling of warmth spreading in your chest for a second.

“He saved my life more times than I’m sure I can recall,” You share, coy but very fondly, with a small simper accompanying your kind string of words. “In all ways,” You continue, your voice growing soft as you intended for only Leon to hear the last bit.

Beside you, he holds your gaze, letting every bit of your sentiment seep into his beating heart. Leon, for a very long time, has struggled to show or accept affection – since he was ‘recruited’ in US-STRATCOM after the events of Raccoon City, and even the events during, his scarring experiences had hardened him.

On that tragic night in ’98, Leon was catapulted into a life he had never envisioned – one so dark, deceiving and so utterly frightening he couldn’t stand to believe at first that it was all real.

Definitely, he believed in all of it now, even as it continues to evolve, grow more dangerous and horrific – it’s the only truth he’s known for so long, his life revolved around it.

One thing that never gets easier to believe though was losing someone - a teammate or a whole unit, a friend, even civilians he’d failed to save. His once vigored heart turned to stone, and it seemed to be easier that way. He believed that deaths would be much easier to cope with if there wasn’t enough reason to miss them.

Despite what he believed though, you were the first person he’d open himself up to as fully as he can bring himself; he’d been left behind by a woman he survived hell with in Raccoon City with a child who had just turned orphan on the same night, he’d been tricked, lied and betrayed by a woman he’d pined over for years countless of times, and he’d had comrades rat him out, causing him to lose so many people.

You were a fear of his, but there was just something about you that made it so impossible to stay away; like Icarus flying too close to the sun.

You were loving and caring and kind and warm and gentle and everything that he had been starved of. You were a breath of the freshest air and confiding in you was the best risk he’d ever taken.

Smiling at Leon, you reach out from under the table to hold his hand. With his thoughts about you, he was quick to return the grip, a need to be close to you nipping at his subconscious.

When you look from him to your father, you were slightly surprised to see his softened features.

“You really care about each other, huh?” He nods, a redolent expression etched on his aged yet gentle face. His eyes, kind eyes that crinkled at the slightest suggestion of a smile from years of happiness of having a loving family, switches to rest on your mother, your mother who seemed to be thinking the same thoughts and feeling the same feelings as him.

“Reminds me a bit of you and me, huh, (Y/D/N)?” Your mom pipes, sharing a smile. “Your dad and I may not work jobs as heavy duty as yours, but we care for each other the way you two seem to do,” She says meaningfully, her long fingers intertwining. She turns to your father, a knowing grin being passed on, “It’s good – it’s always good to see someone love. I can tell just by the way he was looking at (Y/N),” She gestures towards you and Leon.

“I don’t know where I’d be without her,” Leon adds, still slightly reserved but there was a tenderness in his voice and the way he looked at you that made your breath hitch blissfully.

“You’ll take good care of her?” Your dad poses, and Leon can’t help but grin. The answer to that question was always definitive, but he had given it more thought recently – he’ll always take care of you, no matter what, for as long as you wanted him to. He hoped forever.

“There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask…”

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