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harrylilies · 3 years

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The Royal Series | Pt. II

The Royal Series Masterlist

a/n: Damn okay rewriting this made me question how you all liked this before at all because that was cringey as fuck.

---

If anyone had told you or Harry that you would be texting each other from your private numbers only a week before you met, the both of you would have laughed straight to their face.

You remember how before you both parted ways that night at the bar, you stood in front of each other by your car, Farrah having been already in the car and Harry’s band having had bid their goodbyes and “we wish to see you again’s”, but Harry lingered by you.

“Thank you for coming to the show and spending time with my lame friends and I.” Harry had said with his hands clasped behind his back and a small smirk on his face as he tipped his head at you.

“Thank you for helping Farrah and I get seats so soon, and for a wonderful show, and amazing fries and conversation.” You had replied with a smirk that mirrored his.

“Will you be attending any more shows of mine?” Almost timidly, Harry had asked.

“Depends, are you going to invite me?”

His smile had widened, eyes seeming to sparkle at the initiated playful banter you replied with, “Would you accept the invitation?”

“As I said, depends if I even receive one.” You had shrugged.

He had known that this was him shooting his shot – a shot at the Princess of the United Kingdom to be more specific and it sounded absolutely mental. “Well, how do I reach you if I ever want to send an invitation?”

You had given him a smile, eyes staring into his, “You can text me, but how do I trust that you don’t leak my number?” You had teased him.

“How do I know that you won’t leak mine?” Harry had joked, tipping his head to the side as he looked at you.

You had given him a shrug with a smile he could only think of adorable and all its synonyms, “You don’t.”

Having had 5 days before his next show and deciding to go back to London, you had planned to meet for coffee at a place you knew that rarely had anyone visiting but coffee turned to staying for lunch, to trying dessert together, and before either of you had known it, you had spent the entire day together.

The following day, you had FaceTimed as you watched a movie together, Harry slipping halfway through it by saying what you had secretly hoped for and had you giggling and smiling like a young teenager;

“I never thought our second date would be over FaceTime.”

For Harry, it was embarrassing, but you had seen it as hitting a bird with two stones; 1: he considered the day before a date, and 2: he considered that one, too, a date.

But you had assured him when you replied;

“Maybe we can meet tomorrow? So that the third one isn’t virtual?”

And for the third one, you had made dinner together at his house and cried watching The Notebook.

Taking your seat at the table, beside your brother, Har, your grandmother had the family over for breakfast and was later hosting a formal dinner on the same day - two occasions you had to attend but you had informed them that you weren’t going to be able to attend dinner.

"Tiny, is it true you’re not attending dinner?" Your brother, William, asked with the nickname he and Har had created for you ever since you were an infant, as you placed toast on your plate before reaching for jam, Har helping you by giving it to you.

You hummed in confirmation, "I have plans that I can't cancel."

Sighing, William put his fork down and looked at you, "What sort of plans?"

Letting your fork down and intertwining your fingers together, you looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, "Personal ones.”

"Personal pla-"

"Oh, just let her go, will you?" Har chuckled, "It's not going to be the end of the world."

"Don't encourage her, Harry." Your grandmother replied.

"I don't need any encouragement, Granny. I have been attending dinners and formal meetings all my life. I think I deserve to look after myself for a bit, don't you think?"

The table was quiet for a few seconds before Har coughed and shrugged, "I think you're right."

You gave him a thankful smile, watching as he winked at you discreetly.

"I think Y/N knows what she's doing, Will." Kate said softly, glancing at you before looking at your brother who instantly loosened.

"Is he British?" You grandmother asked, making the air hitch in your throat before you eyed Har, who stifled his scoff, knowing that she was indirectly referring to the woman he was with; Meghan.

You only looked at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened.

"Well?"

"Is-Is who British?" You cleared your throat.

"The personal reason why you're not attending dinner." She gave you a smile, letting you know that she was keeping up.

"Granny!" You groaned, looking down at your plate, ignoring everyone who sat on the table as they seemed to stifle their laughter at the situation.

"Just remember," Your grandmother began, making you look at her, "You are Y/N, Princess of the United Kingdom, not someone normal. Leave the normal to the normal. If you're seeing Fred, I'll give you my blessing. If not..." She paused before continuing to eat.

Your eyes met Kate’s sympathetic ones before you looked down at your plate, "Of course." You whispered.

You were in a hurry to get breakfast done with so you could go on with your own day.

After a formal visit to a hospital, you were glad to go back to your flat at Kensington, finally feeling your muscles relax as you began to get ready to see Harry.

Although you could have your driver drive you to where Harry was, he was persistent to meet you so you could go to wherever he wanted you to go to, together.

Your driver had driven you the short distance from the palace to where Harry was waiting for you, looking around for you to make sure no one but the 3 of you was around.

“All clear.” He smiled as he turned back to look at you.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled back, “Sorry for the hassle.”

“None of that, YN.” The old man waved you off, causing you to grin before getting out of the car and walking towards Harry’s black Range Rover.

His head turned to look at you, a smile instantly making its way to his face as he got out to greet you, wrapping his arms around you in a quick hug before pecking your cheek.

"Sorry I'm late." You said, catching your breath as you looked at him.

"It's okay. Is everything alright?" He asked, his eyes on you as he took you in.

You nodded, smiling slightly. "It is now.”

Getting in the car and buckling up, Harry drove off after waving at your driver.

He glanced at you before looking back at the road, a dumbfounded smile on his face, “You look beautiful.”

You tried to stifle the wide grin, looking at the window beside you, “Thank you. You look lovely, too.”

“Did I just make her Royal Highness blush?” Harry gasped dramatically.

“Shut it, Styles!” You laughed, feeling all the stress and worry that you had carried with you throughout the day fade, “Also, I’m on AUX duty.”

Arriving at the place where Harry promised to be peaceful, you were helped out of the car by him. Gently holding each other's hands, both aware of the zoo in your stomachs, you walked inside the small restaurant.

"Oh, Harry, you're here!" An old lady exclaimed with an excited grin before her eyes moved to you, her grey eyes going wide. "Is this- Oh my, are you Princess Y/N?"

Biting your lip and afraid she'd give you any special treatment, you reluctantly nodded.

"Your Highness," She gave you a curtesy. "The place is a bit messy. It's not always like tha-"

"No, no!" You quickly interrupted her, "I love it. And please call me Y/N."

"Are you sure? I mean you're..." She trailed off, glancing at Harry who gave her a reassuring nod.

"I am." You smiled softly at her.

“Oh, dear,” she brought a hand to her heart as her face softened, “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Y/N.”

“All mine,...”

“Trisha.”

You smiled, “Pleasure is all mine, Trisha.”

Smiling at the encounter, Harry’s hand was then on your back as he looked at Trisha, "The regular booth." He informed her, beginning to walk towards the end of the restaurant with you.

You sat down, watching as he sat in front of you. "Do you come here often?"

He nodded, "Trisha here," He pointed back with his thumb, "Has seen me at possibly every state. I got lost once and I came here to use their phone and I've been coming here ever since, that was maybe 3 years ago."

"She seems lovely." You smiled.

"She is." Harry agreed before looking at Trisha who came to your table and put two menus in front of you and him.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order."

You smiled at her before opening the menu and skimming through it, “What do you usually get?”

“The s-”

The sound of the door bells chiming grabbed both of your attention, the both of you looking towards it. In came a group of maybe 7 young adults, all laughing and filling the once quiet place.

You noticed it; one guy elbowing his friend and pointing at you with wide eyes and before you knew it, the group of friends were looking at you and Harry with not so discreet whispers.

"Hey," Your head snapped to Harry once you heard him. He leaned forward to talk quietly, eyes showing care, "We can leave if you want."

You slightly smiled and shook your head, "I still want to know your usual plate."

Reaching underneath the table, Harry held his palm open towards you. You glanced from his hand to his face, smiling as you placed your hand in his, feeling Harry give it a squeeze.

The truth was, Harry knew the risk he was taking. He knew that you were way out of his league; hell, if someone told him years ago that he would be on a date with someone from the Royal family, he would've laughed in their face.

Yet, something about you was so soothing. It was almost as if you had a part that needed to explored, a part that you kept to yourself – a part that was just like anyone else; normal. He didn't know what it felt like to be a part of a royal family or even know much about the formal, royal protocol but one thing he knew for sure was that he never felt this way about someone before.

He had never experienced the normalcy of how it felt with you with anyone else.

Eating Harry's usual meal, salmon pasta, you both were sharing stories that had you giggling and all smiles as if you were the only people in the place.

"And before I know it, I'm dragged in the water."

You laughed, "I can't believe you thought your friend was a shark."

"It's not all the time that people drag you into the water!" Harry said defensively but with a chuckle at the end, watching you as you laughed.

"Sure, because sharks have fingers." You sarcastically nodded.

"That-" Harry pointed at you before slumping in his seat, "That's a good point."

With his hands under his chin, Harry watched you talk about that one time you and your best friends, Emma, Farrah and Nia, decided to up and leave England for two days without giving anyone heads up.

"We went to Italy." You finished, smiling down at your finished plate at the memory before looking at Harry, leaning back in your chair.

"Got an earful when you went back home?"

You chuckled, shrugging, "Nothing I'm not used to."

"So the tabloids are true? You like breaking rules?" Harry smirked, tilting his head slightly.

With butterflies in your stomach and a grin on your face, you replied.

"Only when it's worth it."

After sharing dessert, Harry asked for the check.

Holding the paper, Harry took out his wallet as you were taking out yours, “How much is it?” You asked.

He gave you a funny look, “You think I’m letting you pay?”

“Come on, we can’t go through this every time.” You chuckled, trying to snatch the paper from him only to have him pull away.

“Not to sound too proud but you know I’m capable of paying for the both of us for whatever, right?”

“I also know that you don’t have to.” You added.

“But do you know that I want to?” He asked, taking money out discreetly.

You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, “Of course you’d use that line,” you chuckled as he shrugged at you with a cheeky smile, “Fine, I’m leaving the tips though.”

He knew that it was a dead-end so he nodded.

You gave him the money so he could add it with his, “How about we do that from now on? Switch paying and tips with each other,” you suggested, “Next time, I’ll pay and you handle the tips.”

Harry held his hand out, grinning when you shook it, “Deal.”

It felt like the night was getting younger by the second from how neither of you wanted to leave the other and it was why you decided to take a short walk together around the place since it didn’t have any people around it.

It seemed like a rom-com; you walked alongside each other, pinkies softly intertwined as you chattered.

“Uni was probably the nicest period in my life,” you told him, “Nobody seemed to give a shit who I was except for the first week or two but that was just it. We were just a bunch of kids trying to graduate.”

“What did you study?” Harry asked with a smile as the both of you walked slowly.

“Psychology and management.”

“Doubled?”

You hummed, “Was really interesting studying them, but then you have people with you who just get too into it, especially psychology, and,” you laughed, “We would go out of an intense lecture and someone would come up to you and just,” you stopped as you shook with laughed as you stepped in front of Harry, putting your hands on his arms, Harry grinning in amusement, “Harry, the reason why you don’t like ketchup on your salad is because you weren’t hugged enough as a child.”

He burst out laughing, throwing his head back. You laughed along, eyes twinkling at the sight of the man in front of you.

Breathing out with a hand to his heart, Harry looked down at you as the both of you continued to chuckle.

Maybe it was the setting of it all; a normal date with a conversation that flowed as gracefully as a river, the weather being almost perfect, you and Harry grew quiet as you stared at one another, oblivious to the rapidly thumping hearts hidden in your chests.

Gently and ever-so-softly, Harry leaned closer first, moving one soft hand to your right cheek. The coldness of his rings and the air wasn’t what caused you to take a breath in, it was the intense yet soft look he was giving you before the both of you closed your eyes, lips finally pressing against each other in a gentle kiss.

Quietly and gently, you both pulled away, still maintaining the close proximity. Harry was first to open his eyes, a smile drawn to his face as he watched you open yours.

“Only took us four dates to kiss.” You said quietly with a smile.

“Sorry.” In his deep voice, Harry replied as he still cupped your cheek.

“It’s alright,” you reached to place your hand on top of his on your cheek, “You can make up for it.”

And so, you were both beaming as you jogged to Harry’s car, Harry’s lips getting placed on your own as soon as you were hidden in the car.

It was a hot mess with how much you were both laughing, though not knowing why but judging from the way the night went – it was just happiness and excitement, two nouns you had missed using.

Driving you back was fun though it was bittersweet; the both of you sang along to the music you played, Harry feeling comfortable enough to hold your hand as he drove.

“Will you call me?” You asked quietly and bashfully, unbuckling your seatbelt and looking at him.

Harry’s heart fluttered, leaning closer to kiss your lips. “Only if you’ll answer.”

“I’ll consider it.” You teased, pulling him in for another kiss before getting out of the car.

What you hadn’t expected to find was your personal assistant and friend, Emilie, standing outside your flat door the moment it came into sight.

“The Queen wants to see you right now.”

Your smile fell as you looked at the sympathetic look she was giving you.

The 10-minute drive to Buckingham was quiet, thoughts racing through your head like colliding trains.

The walk inside and to where your grandmother was waiting for you was stressful, but you reached her.

Sitting on a chair, your short grandmother had an iPad on her lap, zooming in and out on it.

“You wanted to see me, Granny?”

She looked up, “Ah! Yes,” she nodded before handing you the iPad, “What is this?”

Taking the iPad, your eyes moved from her figure to the screen, your breath hitching in your throat at the picture of you and Harry smiling at each other stared back at you. From the little preview of photos at the bottom, you swiped to see the other familiar pictures.

A picture of you laughing and Harry talking with a smile on his face, a picture of your hand on top of his as you talked, a picture of the both of you leaving with Harry’s hand on your back.

You stayed quiet for a moment before letting a sigh, your shoulders slumping down, “This is why I’m here?”

“Are you shocked?”

“Kind of surprised, yes,” you nodded, “How is me going out with someone bad enough for you to request to see me now?”

“That someone happens to be a singer,” she frowned, feeling as if spitting out his profession, “A singer who comes from a boyband, dresses in a way that no man should, and might I add, sings for a living.”

Your eyes widened, “No man should? Why? How should a man dress, Granny? Suits for jammies and morning coats for a stroll?”

“He’s a singer, Y/N. You’re a Princess!”

“And a human, too, just like him and just like you,” you chuckled in disbelief, “And he’s bloody talented at what he does and it’s impacting so many people all around the world.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Long enough to actually like him.” You replied instantly.

The Queen closed her eyes momentarily before standing up, “Are you aware of how you were born to marry a royal?”

You shook your head, feeling your eyes grow tearful, “Are you aware of how much I miss running to you when I fall down or feel sad like I used to as a child?”

“You know whose fault that is, young lady? Yours,” she pointed, “The moment you decided that you were unsatisfied with your duty as a Royal Princess.”

“No,” you shook your head with a slight dry laugh, “It was when you decided that me having an opinion was too much of a privilege, Granny, especially when it comes to who I see.”

“You’re doing all this for what? For who? Him?”

“You don’t get it,” a tear fell, “It was never for anyone but myself.”

“I care about you, too, and you know that. It’s why it’s best for you to marry Fred, someone who comes from a royal line, not a commoner!”

“A commoner?” You laughed, “What year is this?”

“Don’t speak to me in that tone, Y/N. Especially when the public caught you in the wrong with the Styles boy.”

“Caught me in the wr-What?” with a chuckle, you added, “Because me meeting up and knowing people who don’t walk around with their fancy attires and royal calendar is wrong, right. Where are you going with this, Granny?”

“You shouldn’t be tarnishing the family like that, I will not allow it, Y/N!”

“Then I don’t want anything to do with it!”

And with that, you turned around, hurrying out of the room as you harshly wiped your cheeks, furiously taking out your phone and dialling the one person you wanted to see.

“Hey, love. Didn’t know you were that eager to hear my voice.”

It was your sniffle that had alerted Harry, sitting straighter as he pressed the phone against his ear, his smile and joking demeanour dropping, “Y/N? Love? Are you okay? What is it?”

“Harry, are you at your house?”

“Yeah, love, I am. You want me to come and get you?” He asked urgently.

“No,” you sniffled, “I’ll be there.”

Getting the car, you wiped your cheek again as you looked at your driver who frowned at you crying, “Can you please take me to Harry’s, Barney?”

“Anywhere you want, Y/n.”

---

You rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently on the doorstep before you fidgeted with your hands as you waited.

Only a few seconds later did you snap your head up as the door was – aggressively – opened, viewing Harry who looked like he was waiting for the delivery of his child. He instantly pulled you to his chest, resting his chin on your head. "I was worried sick."

"You told me you're not scared." You whispered after a few seconds of silence in each other's embrace.

Harry pulled back a little, looking down at you, his eyes skimming over every part of your face.

A smile made its way on his face as he leaned in, his lips grazing yours ever so softly. "I'm not scared. Are you?”

Closing your eyes, your hands found their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm not scared."

Harry closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours in an assuring kiss. Almost as if it was a seal to a deal.

#harrylillies #the royal series #the royal series masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff series #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles x princess reader

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yesttoheaven · 4 years

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GOOD GIRLS GO TO HELL

CHAPTER 1

pairing: arvin russell x female!reader

summary: In the eyes of extremely strict parents, 'good' girls go to hell, but they don't know that they are handing over their own daughter to the devil – known to all as Rev. Teagardin.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: language, mentions (not depictions) of abuse, manipulation, religious fanaticism, angst

a/n: This idea has been on my mind since the day I watched the movie, so... here we go!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

"I don't usually interfere that way. It would be best if she came here willingly. She needs to be open to accept all the blessings that God will bring to her life." Rev. Teagardin took a step forward, considering the request of a mother and father completely desperate for the salvation of their only daughter.

"We tried everything. We found great references about a boarding school called 'Good Pastor', but a week later they called to report that she had run away! Our daughter appeared a few days later in the company of three strange girls. One of them is a single mother, our Y/N shouldn't hang out with those kind of people." The woman's words contained disgust. She was tired of watching her daughter ruin her own life. The girl had become a topic of conversation in the town and a shame for the whole family.

"The truth is, we don't know what to do with Y/N. Day after day she becomes more rebellious. She doesn't respect us." Mr. Henson shared the same agony as his wife, but both see Preston as the solution to this problem.

"We don't want our only daughter to go to hell! You need to help us, Reverend. We believe that you are the only one capable of driving the devil out of her. In the name of God, save our little Y/N!"

In absolute silence, the preacher walked near the window, watching Y/N. She was sitting on the hood of Mr. Henson's car and her body was lulled by the gentle breeze that touched the skirt of the dress she wore, revealing her legs that should have been silky smooth. Smiling, the man looked at the girl's parents, knowing exactly what to do to save Y/N's soul.

"I'm glad you came to me. God will be my guide to help your daughter. Now, I would like to talk to her for a while."

Extremely grateful, Y/N's parents agreed and left the church for a few seconds. When they returned, Y/N was with them. The girl's curious eyes moved from side to side, until they found Preston Teagardin with his hands on his hips. He was at the altar, the cross appearing behind his head left him with a divine aura, but the girl remembers the day she saw the preacher humiliate – indirectly – the chicken liver dish that Emma Russell prepared with such affection. If he said those horrible things to a religious woman like Emma, Y/N didn't want to imagine what he might be thinking about her at the moment. Maybe he was wondering why she hasn't started to burn while walking on sacred ground, but it was him who was burning. Burning with desire. A sin that he identifies in others, but never in himself.

"Hello, you must be Y/N." The man approached, his eyes shining like a hungry predator who had just found the perfect prey. "You don't usually visit the house of God."

"But I'm sure that is about to change." Y/N's mother replied, looking at her daughter hopefully.

Y/N may not be an especially easy girl to handle, but she never understood why her parents didn't respect her space. She never visited the church often and that number dropped to zero when they started to force her to go with them. Over the years, Knockemstiff residents have turned religion into a disease. It's close to insanity and Y/N Henson doesn't want that for her life. Despite being seen as a sinner, she still prays every night. She gets down on her knees and talks to God.

"Dear, your dad and I brought you here to talk to Reverend Teagardin..."

"What? You said you would come here to confess and then we would go home!" Y/N protested angrily. She was ready to retrace her steps to the exit when her father took her arm.

"Y/N, we just want the best for you. Talking to the reverend can be a good start."

"And we are not giving you another option." Mrs. Henson completed, remaining firm in her decision. "Your father and I agreed not to participate in this conversation. We will walk around the town and then we come back here to get you."

"I can take her home... If you agree." Teagardin said, hiding his real intentions and touching the girl's shoulder. She was so small around him and looked so vulnerable. He smiled when he realized that.

"Oh, that's very kind, Reverend. Thanks." Y/N's mother replied, feeling enchanted by the man's benevolence. "Be a good girl." She said, kissing her daughter's forehead.

The preacher accompanied them to the door and having no other option Y/N walked through the church, staring at the cross nailed to the wall. She never felt that she was turning away from God, but looking back is exactly what she did.

"Now it's just me, you and Him." The reverend's words brought Y/N out of her own thoughts and she turned to him, crossing her arms in the process. This made her breasts more visible under the black dress she wore and Teagardin noticed.

"I can go and you tell my parents that you talked to me, but it didn't work because I'm a hopeless case. It's simple."

"I can't lie to your parents. I also don't think you're a hopeless case, Y/N." The man admitted, going to the first bench and sitting down. "We can talk?"

"Like... about my sins?"

"No. A normal conversation. Why don't you start by telling me about your life?" He patted the bench, silently inviting her to sit beside him.

Y/N didn't understand how a simple conversation could help, but she found the idea pleasant. Showing a shy smile, she approached Teagardin and sat down next to him, leaving a space between their bodies. Once again she looked at the cross, beginning to speak:

"I work for Ms. Fowler, she has a chicken coop and some pigs... I don't do much, but I like to help take care of animals and she says they like me too." At that moment Y/N looked at the preacher and imagined that she would find him with an expression of disinterest. The same expression of disinterest that her parents show when she tried to start a conversation or simply tell how her day was. They were always busy, but Teagardin was completely focused on everything she said and with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"So, do you take care of the animals? I'm impressed, I don't know many girls who risk their lives by entering a pigsty."

"It's a dangerous place." She let slip a sweet laugh, feeling light, as she hadn't felt for a long time. "I understand them."

"I can see that you have a great relationship with animals, but what about your friends? Tell me a little about them." Those words were enough to destabilize Y/N. Any sign of happiness disappeared from her face and everything went gray, just like the view through the church windows. The rain was close and Y/N controlled herself not to start crying.

Like a sniffer dog, Preston felt this was a sensitive subject for the girl – maybe an open wound – and waited patiently until she decided to share it with him.

"I was never good at making friends, but I used to have a friend at school. Her name was Isabella. We were inseparable, but one day her father received a job offer in another city... Despite the distance, she called me every day in the late afternoon" The nostalgia was noticeable in her voice and the way her face softened with small memories. Isabella and Y/N were like sisters, but Mrs. Henson never approved of that friendship. "I am three years without news of my best friend. She never called or answered my letters and I don't know why, reverend."

"Have you never been to visit her?"

"My parents won't let me out of Knockemstiff."

"You don't have to go alone. They can go with you..."

"They don't care about me or what I want." Y/N said, shaking her shoulders as if this feeling was mutual, but deep down she knew it wasn't. "My mom said I have the power to turn people away and if Isabella walked away from me, it is certainly my fault."

"Your mother shouldn't say that." Teagardin looked deeply hurt. The situation was worse than he imagined, this family needs his help.

Y/N needs his help.

"Well, I lost Isabella's friendship, but I got three new friends!" The girl informed, as if she had finally found her place. "Two of them I met at the boarding school. The third helped us to escape and she has a beautiful baby. They work together in a bar away from the city..."

"What do they do in this bar?" The reverend had some suspicions, but he wanted to hear her confess.

"They... dance." Y/N said slowly. "I know it can look wrong, but they are good people and I don't understand why everyone looks at these girls with..."

"Have you ever been there?" Preston needed to know, but the girl just bowed her head. Sighing deeply, he stretched his arm over her shoulders, ending the distance between their bodies. "It's all right... God is merciful and benevolent. He forgives all of our sins, but He does not forgive lies."

"It was only once. I swear!" In the same instant that the words left her lips, she hid her face in Teagardin's chest and he took the opportunity to hug her, and feel the sweet perfume of her hair. It smelled like innocence.

"You made a mistake by going there. That place is not for family girls."

"I was just tired of everything... So, I thought about going there to have a drink and forget about the problems."

"Learn one thing..." The man said softly, running his fingers through her hair. "When problems arise and you feel alone, start praying. God is your best friend. And I am also here to help you."

"Thanks, reverend."

"Never go back to that place again. You shouldn't be drinking... and smoking."

"Wait..." The girl moved away from Teagardin, looking him straight in the eye. "Did my parents say that?"

"I was in town when I saw you smoking with a boy. He approached you and passed the smoke to your mouth... And then he kissed you. Is he your boyfriend?"

"Oh, you saw me with Arvin..." Shame consumed Y/N, turning her cheeks into two tomatoes. "But we are not together. It was our first kiss... My first kiss."

The moment they shared in the car had been magical. Arvin was always different from the Knockemstiff boys. He never judged Y/N for her actions. He understood her, but sometimes some problems were so big that they made the girl run away from him. All Arvin wanted was to hold her in his arms and protect from all the evil in the world.

"You need to stay away from these people. Starting with this young guy." The preacher's words captured Y/N's attention, confusing her. "You can't see it now, but those friendships are not good for you. They are driving you away from your true purpose. And Arvin Russell is taking advantage of your innocence to..."

"Arvin would never do that." She stated in all letters, not letting him finish the assumption. "I think... I think he likes me."

"There is a big difference between love and carnal attraction, and boys his age think of only one thing." Teagardin insisted, using a peaceful tone of voice. He was so convincing, that despite knowing Arvin for a long time, Y/N wondered about the boy's real intentions. He was always kind and respectful, or maybe that's what she thought, but with the help of the reverend she was beginning to understand, and the feeling of being used was difficult to digest. "I saw the way he looked at you... I saw the sin in his eyes."

"This cannot be true... W-We are not talking about the same person! He's d-different!"

"It doesn't matter who you believed in all this time or what you accepted to... to be like them. In the end, you are alone. You know it." When Preston finished, she was completely broken. It was cruel, but someone needed to open her eyes. Y/N deserved the truth. "I know it is difficult, but I am here for you." He buried her against his chest in a bear hug, wishing feel her soft, warm body in his arms again. Y/N returned the hug — and then started to cry.

Her friends were not her friends.

Her parents were right.

She felt confused. Lost. But the reverend was beside her to show a new path free from sin and delusions.

"Do you know Proverbs 28:13?" He asked, holding her face in his hands. With his fingertips he wiped away a few tears and she smiled, shaking her head. "Whoever tries to hide his sins will not succeed, but the one who confesses his sins and leaves them behind will find mercy. Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, reverend." That was the confirmation he needed.

Preston Teagardin always believed that he had a special connection with God. With the right words he had the power to reach the hearts of these girls and offer them redemption. In his dark mind, they were privileged to be touched by a holy man like him. He was doing them a favor. And now it's Y/N's turn.

"First, you need to be free from your sins." The man looked with adoration for the little fallen angel. Slowly, he touched her knees, feeling the smooth skin and after a sigh, the girl was in his hands.

"Reverend..."

"Shhh. Just trust me." He said when his hands disappeared under her dress. His touch was sacred, something she had never experienced, but Y/N's conscience screamed that this was wrong. "Stand up so I can take your panties off. I need to feel you..." She got up, but ran quickly away from him, escaping his dirty hands.

Disappointment appeared in her eyes in the form of tears. It was impossible not to feel used. Again. Influenced by him, Y/N believed that her friends were a problem in her life and that they were moving her away from God's plans, but the real sinner is inside the church. His understanding, concern and kindness never existed. It was all part of the game. He needed to earn her trust before he could attack.

"You... You are a wolf in sheep's clothing! A liar! I thought for the first time someone was understanding my side, but you just want to fuck with me!"

"You got it wrong..."

"S-Stay away from me!" Y/N warned when Teagardin tried to approach. Fear coursed through her veins, spreading through her body like a drug. She didn't know what to do, but she knew she didn't want to be touched by him that way. "If you approach me, I swear I make a scandal! The whole city will know who you really are!"

"No one will believe you." He took a step forward. "You need help. I'm the only one who can..."

"Stop that shit! Do not say that the devil is in me, when you are trying to abuse a girl who is old enough to be your daughter! You are the devil, Teagardin!" For the first time she saw the anger in his eyes. Preston would never agree with that, but that is his true face. He is the devil in disguise and this was confirmed the instant he advanced on her.

Y/N ran to the exit, screaming desperately for help, even though she knew she was alone in this nightmare. With shaking hands, she tried to open the door, but the reverend took her in his arms. Compared to the girl’s small, slender body, he was stronger than she was, but Y/N resisted and hit her knee in the middle of his legs, reaching his weak point. The man let out a loud growl and walked away, seeking support on one of the wooden benches. Taking advantage of the distraction, Y/N opened the door and ran as fast as she could. Teagardin thought of running after her to finish what he started, but he gave up as soon as he saw her cross the threshold of the church, running in the rain as if her life depended on it. She didn't look back, just kept running until she disappeared into the trees.

...

The day turned into night, covering everything with its dark cloak, while rain fell mercilessly on Knockemstiff. Y/N stumbled along the road, hugging her own body in an unsuccessful attempt to warm up. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops, but the girl's mind was elsewhere.

After what happened at the church, her faith was in pieces. She always knew that bad men walked on Earth, but she never imagined that the preacher was one of them. The way he touched her was disgusting. She wanted to scream, take the pain out of her chest and run back home to tell her parents what happened, but Teagardin's words were stuck in her head, hurting her:

"In the end, you are alone. You know it."

"No one will believe you."

Unexpectedly – or maybe that was a divine sign – a car approached the road Y/N was on. She was surprised to hear the noise of the engine and looked back. Despite the rain and the headlight blinding her for a few moments, Y/N recognized the old car and the boy on the other side certainly recognized her too. Arvin left his truck without a second thought, not caring about the pouring rain wetting his clothes in a matter of seconds.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, needing to raise his voice so she could hear. The girl opened her mouth to reply, but gave up, looking away.

Arvin realized that something was wrong. It was common to see Y/N walking around the city, but not in these circumstances. Before she looked away, he noticed the pain in her eyes. It was no secret to him that she had a difficult relationship with her parents, but this time it was different.

For a moment the worry made him forget that they were both still in the rain and when he realized this, the boy immediately guided her to the car. When she was safely in the passenger seat, he bypassed the vehicle and took the driver's seat. Rain was no longer a problem, but the cold persisted and Arvin grabbed his jeans jacket from the back seat.

"Here." He handed it to her and Y/N mumbled a small 'thanks', wearing the jacket. "So... what happened? You are far from home. It is dangerous to go out in the middle of a storm like this..."

"My intention is to stay away from home. The storm is an extra." The girl tried to relax, hiding her real emotions but it was obvious that she was not well.

"Did you argue with your parents again?"

"I would prefer that." She replied, forcing a laugh. Getting into an argument with her parents was common for her and seemed small compared to what actually happened. But what really happened was suffocating her. "I can tell you everything, r-right?"

"You know you can." Arvin said, holding her hand. The simple contact made their hearts accelerate and Y/N was grateful to have him by her side.

Feeling encouraged, she began to tell what happened at the church. The fact that her parents insisted that the devil was inside her, made Arvin angry. He never understood what the problem was with Mr. and Mrs. Henson about this. Y/N was not sick. All she needed was love and they never gave it to her.

Y/N didn't want to delve into the details of her conversation with the new preacher, but Arvin heard the fear in her voice when she mentioned his name. She said he was good with words, and very persuasive. He easily won her trust and that was her worst mistake. Arvin stopped listening when she said that the man's hands disappeared under the dress she was wearing. Anger consumed him quickly, making his blood boil and he clapped his hands on the steering wheel. With a vision blurred by tears, Y/N looked at him with concern. The tension was clear throughout his body; his jaw was tightly clenched and his hands were shaking as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Arvin always had an explosive temper – paternal inheritance –, especially when the people he cared about were hurt.

"The preacher will never touch you again. I promise." He stated with conviction, bringing his attention back to Y/N. She looked tired, crying silently and the boy opened his arms for her to snuggle against his chest. Playing with a lock of her hair, he said: "I always knew there was something wrong with him. I should be there for you..."

"It's okay, Arvin. I'll be fine and I'll forget what happened... I just need to stay away from the church. This is easy for me." Y/N knew it wouldn't be so easy, but to calm him down, everything was welcome.

"You cannot protect him."

"I am not protecting him, but I know you..." She murmured softly, running a hand over his chest. "My life is a mess, you are the only one who believes in me. So, I'm just asking you not to do anything stupid... Because... Because I need you here." Arvin relaxed at her words. It was nice to know that she wanted him around in this difficult time. Y/N would have his support forever. And his love. For her sake, he decided to act with caution, but this does not mean that Teagardin will not suffer the consequences of his actions.

With undisclosed feelings, they remained embraced, just enjoying each other's company. It had been a long day. Arvin remembered the fallen tree in the middle of the road, forcing him to take the long way home, but that path brought him to Y/N. He was happy that it was he who found her in the middle of this storm.

"You need to rest. I will take you home." The boy broke the silence and Y/N moved away from him, shaking her head.

"No! I don't want to go home! My parents... they go..."

"I'll take you to my house." Arvin said, catching her cheek with his hand and watching the panic disappear from her eyes. With a smile, he added: "Grandma misses you."

• a/n: This is the first fic I publish here and I'm very nervous!! (Possibly I will do a second part of this) Btw, criticism is welcome!!

(CHAPTER TWO HERE)

#arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin eugene russell #arvin russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel x y/n #the devil all the time #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #preston teagardin #arvin russell one shot #tom holland one shot #tdatt imagine #tdatt fic #tdatt

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arhvste · 4 years

Text

next stop iwa-chan!

“now i know we’re not dating, maybe soon by the way things go, we’ve been talking for ages, take it step by step slow it down we just need to be patient, if the love feels good and it’s real, it’ll all work out”

y/n panted as she ran up to iwaizumi and oikawa’s shared apartment. not bothering to want to wait any longer to see him, y/n opted to take the stairs not willing to wait for the elevator.

4 flights of stairs weren’t too unforgiving to the girl especially with the adrenaline running through her. nothing else mattered other than getting to iwaizumi.

after what felt like a whole expedition, y/n finally reached iwaizumi’s door and waited a moment to gather herself before knocking.

swiftly, the door swung open revealing a freshly showered (fuucckkkk he's so hot i’m so jealous of you 😔) iwaizumi with his dark hair damp and a few water droplets hanging at the ends of the short strands. his lean figure complimented by a white tank and black sweats, and oh his arms. the arms that had gotten y/n into the mess way back when. y/n knew iwaizumi looked good but to look this good after a casual shower? that should be illegal.

“y/n.” he spoke softly as he stepped out the doorway to let her in.

the girl smiled slightly and cautiously entered the sleek and modern apartment. the tension was thick but not in a overwhelming and heavy way. no negative feelings towards each other in the air, just anxiousness and concern for the conversation waiting to occur.

“let’s go sit yeah? your legs might give over by the time i’m done telling you everything i need to if i make us stand.” he joked slightly as they made their way over to the inviting couch.

“i’d rather you make my legs give over in another way rather than making me stand for too long.” y/n joked back earning a snicker from him.

this was good.

the mood was being lifted ever so slightly. y/n didn't want iwaizumi to feel obliged to vent to her in a completely serious atmosphere.

the two sat and iwaizumi anxiously began to play with his hands.

“so obviously you know what i’m going to tell you. just tell me if im going on too much yeah? i don't want you to feel like i’m just dumping this all on you to make you feel bad or anything like th-”

y/n grabbed iwaizumi’s hands into her smaller ones and gave them a light squeeze as she held them.

“tell me anything and everything you want and need to.”

he smiled and took a small breath before continuing.

“so, you know shitty- i mean oikawa. you know oikawa the boy who gave you my number at the train station. he’s been my best friend for as long as i can remember. the piece of shit was always getting himself into all types of trouble, he can be so reckless sometimes... but that’s why we work well together. i call him out on his behaviour and help him fix it and he keeps me grounded. it’s always been like that.”

iwaizumi stopped for a brief moment to look into y/n’s eyes. her only twinkling and gleaming with pure genuine and care.

“so when we got to highschool, he uh, started getting a lot of attention. from girls i mean. they flocked him everywhere we went, sometimes i even had to go out of my way to look for him when he was late to practices or lost out of our group. his fangirls were... irritating and shallow. none of them saw or wanted to get to know oikawa for who he was. believe it or not y/n, sometimes i hate to admit it but he's a good guy really. he just has a funny way of showing it sometimes so it’s not the clearest.”

the girl laughed slightly as she nodded for iwaizumi to continue.

“so the end of second year, oikawa had been dumped by his girlfriend because she said he was too absorbed with volleyball even though she knew what she was getting into from the second she asked to date him. oikawa was bothered by even more girls after they learned he was single again and that's when my uh... ex was introduced to me.”

the word “ex” didn't seem to sound nice coming from iwaizumi’s mouth. it was almost like he had to force himself to say it.

“she wasn’t a fan of oikawa’s, well a clear one anyway. i’d never seen her in the huge groups of screaming and shoving girls whenever we had matches or practice so i just assumed she wasn't interested in him. i met her in the halls one day and helped her carry some books from her locker to her class.”

y/n felt iwiazumi’s hands grip hers ever so slightly tighter. this relationship must've affected him more than y/n thought.

“after that we spoke more often and became good friends. she was different to oikawa i didn't have to babysit her or scold her. she was easy to be around.”

iwaizumi had to stop himself from ending that sentence with “like you”. y/n and his ex were not the same. y/n was easy to be with in a different way. a better way. it was unexplainable, but y/n really was something else and iwaizumi meant this when he said it.

“months later and she confessed. i accepted and things went from there. things were good for ages. i felt happy? yeah, i felt happy with her. things were great between us. for once in my life i didn't feel inferior. i know i don’t show it but sometimes it can get a little... much? being stood next to the school’s idol your whole life will give you the automatic label of second best.”

he laughed at this slightly. a choked out laugh.

fuck he was already having to hold himself back from allowing the flood of emotions to break through the mental dam he’d built up over the years.

“we dated for over a year. i loved her. i really did... it just- it just wasn't reciprocated apparently.”

y/n leaned forward to caress the struggling ex ace’s face as he scrunched his face slightly to stop himself from breaking down. iwaizumi wasn't a man of too much emotion. his manly persona had led others to believe he was incapable of feeling hurt and iwaizumi just fed into this expectation not expecting anyone to call him out on it.

“she- no, i came out of practice and she was pressed up against oikawa’s locker with another boy from her class. i-... i didn't hear much of their conversation just bits. she said something along the lines of ‘if i can’t have oikawa the next best thing is to be done against his locker.’ fuck, i didn't even feel like second place.”

tears were now gathering in his eyes as he turned to look away for y/n who only looked at him with sympathy. wasting no time, y/n pulled iwaizumi’s head into the crook of her neck as she let him vent out all the pent up emotions that had been building up for months on top of months. she ran her fingers through his dark hair not caring that it was still damp as she drew circles on his tense back muscles to calm him down.

“take your time. i have all the time in the world for you.”

iwaizumi sighed after a few more minutes of quietly crying.

“s-sorry i just- everything became too much. i’m being stupid aren't i? getting upset over not even being second best to oikawa but his locker instead.”

“haijime.”

the boy’s head snapped up to meet y/n’s challenging gaze.

“you are anything but stupid. you have every right to be upset. i can’t even begin to try and understand what you went through. don’t you dare hold back, let everything out i want you to feel okay after all this and even if you don't, i at least still want you to get it all out your system.”

iwaizumi nodded before continuing.

“after that i broke up with her. she said that she was only dating me to try and get close to oikawa but that had gotten her nowhere apparently. she had been seeing that other boy for t-three months before our relationship ended. i should've seen it coming i feel so idiotic for not noticing sooner.”

“what did oikawa say when he heard about this?”

“he was livid. even i didn't feel like i could stand against him, then again i never really could in some sort of sense anyway.” he laughed dryly as y/n frowned.

“stop that.”

“stop what?”

“calling yourself second best, putting yourself as second best. you’re not second best and you never will be. fuck haijime, you know you’re the only one who’s ever managed to occupy my mind so effortlessly. since you, there’s been nobody else on my mind so i’m hurting knowing that you think you’re anyones inferior because for what it’s worth you’re not and never will be mine. you are your own person and you’re the person i’m so so helplessly in love with. everything about you. absolutely everything. you’re my person so please stop thinking you’re second place because nobody with a sane mind thinks that.”

iwaizumi was left speechless. he looked into y/n’s eyes and as always, nothing but sincerity shone in them. oikawa had been the one to indirectly end his relationship but something in iwaizumi’s mind told him that the universe had also allowed oikawa to bless him with something better. a chance for a better relationship with a girl he could openly and genuinely allow himself to fall in love with. oikawa tooru had given him the chance to be with y/n and there was no way in hell he was going to pass up what the universe had offered him.

“y/n. thank you.”

the girl smiled as she raked her fingers through his hair and laced one of her hands into one of his own.

“don't thank me. this isn't something you should need to be told.”

“no, thank you for not ignoring oikawa’s antics. thank you for giving in and texting me. thank you for not complaining when i dragged you all the way to miyagi at 12am. thank you for giving me a look into domestic life with you. thank you for letting me into your life. thank you for letting me fall in love with you. thank you for falling in love with me. just- thank you y/n. im stupidly in love with you and i want to make sure i do things right with you.”

now it was y/n who was rendered speechless as tears of her own pricked into the corners of her eyes.

“you idiot.” she huffed as she pulled herself into his chest.

“your idiot.”

“my idiot.”

the two stayed like that a little longer. relishing in the now lifted tension. iwaizumi felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulder and y/n felt nothing but relief that he’d finally managed to let go.

he was still healing, that much was obvious and both of them knew he wasn't ready for a title yet.

the two were ridiculously in love.

and for now that was enough.

‘just a little longer y/n i promise.’

next stop iwa-chan!

iwaizumi haijime x reader

masterlist

an - after oikawa found out about what had happened with iwaizumi he tried to convince his older sister to cyber bully iwaizumi’s ex (she said no so he told his fangirls to give her dirty looks in the halls instead fuevdhs)

akaashi’s playgroup || two pretty setters and co

part 24 - im telling her

part 25 - my person

part 26 - labels

PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

taglist : @crushingonsuga @bloody-bella @totorosleaff @kageyamasbabygorl @cuddlyroger @hidden-otaku-stuff @vanilla-beanzz @macchiatoast @kac-chowsballs @anime-read-write-repeat @missalienqueen @bbkiyoomi @toaster-stick @nerdynstoned @otaku-fangirlse @the-third-wall @nekomateammanager @bokutoichigo @killlerqween @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @doggonudez @iwaizluv @angrylittlezizi @softmultistan @lifesciencesbois @itsmattsunshinehere @haikyus1mp @bringmelily @valrubiii @saturnfarie @oyaoyaoya-chan @ack-aashi @weebymaria @introvertatitsfinest @rd-crew @strawberryyymiaa @a-fucking-simp @chokomoko @iwachanswh0re @maybesoph @leviathans-watching @loser-keiji @yandearie @scrappydaisies @caramel-chuuya @miracleboylyss @hellothankmas @makkihoe @firebonbon @kokogxddess @kaiagiorgi @softmatcha @peteunderoos

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi smau #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smau #next stop iwa chan

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myelocin · 4 years

Text

strangers: but sort of like home. | kuroo tetsurou

synopsis: in which you’ve been neighbors with kuroo tetsurou for over eighteen years, and this goodbye is sort of feeling like the music video to taylor swift’s you belong with me.

characters: kuroo tetsurou, you

genre/warnings: fluff, no warnings!, adolescence

wc: ~1.2k

a/n: this is @ciels-the-limit req #15 to stories in passing, and was supposed to be a drabble but i am booboo the clown and wrote too much. i really liked the bit ab waking up and beating the sun ;w;

“I’d ask you why you’re awake for some ungodly reason but at this point the things you do don’t even surprise me anymore,” Kuroo deadpans as soon as you cracked your window open.

“Funny,” you scoff but open your window fully anyway to see him better.

“It’s four am why are you up?” you ask and lean against your folded arms on the windowsill.

Kuroo’s been your next door neighbor for your whole life. And your relationship was weird— or at least you think it is. The window in his room was ironically right across yours and from the day you moved in, and catching glimpses of one another has just become a part of your day.

You rolled your eyes every time your friend made a reference to Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me music video. Kuroo didn’t seem to mind though. He laughed every time he heard the joke.

But at least he was nice about it.

He could have easily told the class about the time he caught you half sobbing into your pillow, snot faced and hair sticking out everywhere because of a new book you’ve just finished—but he didn’t. He just awkwardly waved and shut his blinds before you could even think of an excuse. A text with a funny picture would always be waiting in your inbox ten minutes later though. You appreciated it.

Then again, you’re sure he appreciated the tin of cookies you baked indirectly for him when your dad would pop by their house and share some of the steak he was grilling. He didn’t say much, but the text about how your recipe’s improving would always be at the top of your inbox as soon as your dad came back in the house.

Outside of the conversations you shared over the window during hours like these—neither of you really talked much outside of it. A nod of acknowledgement in the hallway maybe, and a polite hello when your parents would invite his over dinner, but other than the fleeting conversations between windows at four am, you only knew him as Kuroo Tetsurou.

Kuroo Tetsurou, the neighbor who lived next to your house for more than eighteen years and always left his blinds open in the hours he knew you’d wake up before your alarm.

Like now.

Like any other day.

Except this time, the conversation lasted a little longer.

“Aren’t you going to jog?” you ask him. Kuroo lets your voice ring in the makeshift silence before he sits back down on his bed—the side facing you, and shakes his head.

“In a bit, but aren’t you leaving today? Heard my dad talking to yours yesterday.”

You nod; a little sleepy, but attentive. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, you muse. Eighteen years later and the bedhead was still there.

“Osaka, huh?” Kuroo says and this time you let his voice ring out before you prop your head up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and nodding at him.

“Yeah. Heard my dad say that you’re staying in Tokyo,” you say and he grins, almost softly, and nods back at you.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been a good neighbor,” you tease, and Kuroo looks at you, the look in his eyes gentle. Maybe because it’s the magic of four am, or the fact that this is sort of your last four am with Kuroo—you feel something akin to sadness.

“You’re saying that like I’m gonna die,” he snorts, one hand running through his hair. If it was already messy before—it looks even messier now. Then again, his hair has always been one of his charms, you think, so you don’t comment.

“Are we supposed to cry and say goodbye?” Kuroo quips across you and you hum in contemplation before shaking your head no.

“For the most part of our lives we were sort of strangers. Why, do you feel like crying Kuroo?” you laugh and he feigns his hurt by throwing one hand over his heart.

“We shared eighteen years worth of memories, (y/n)!” he gasps, which you easily laugh at.

Across you, Kuroo smiles at your laughter. He’s always thought happiness was a good look on you.

“I feel like every time I’ll come home, I’ll think of you, though,” you confess. “Your voice is literally the first thing I hear every morning. Kinda sad that your blinds would probably be closed by then.”

“It’s because you’re racing your alarm clock. It’s supposed to wake you up, not the other way around!” he laughs.

You wave off his comment and laugh with him. The clock beside you ticks to 5AM and this time, it’s his alarm blaring from his phone. You raise your eyebrows, confused. He always got up before you?

Picking up on your puzzled expression, Kuroo speaks, “I have two alarm clocks. I usually used to jog at five, but ever since I discovered how fucked up your sleep is, I guess I started waking up around your schedule too.”

You laugh, a little confused, but a little touched too. The mini conversations you shared with him were always a good way to start your day.

“Now you’re making me sentimental,” you groan. The world is still a little quiet, save for the ticking of the clock and Kuroo’s chuckle floating from his window into yours—but it’s nice. Familiar.

It feels as familiar and in place as the literature books on your bookshelf, swimming trophies above a framed wall of achievements alike, and the framed photo of you from your childhood. Kuroo laughs again and says another comment that in turn has you laughing along with him and you can’t help but feel like home.

In many ways he was still a stranger to you—but in the subtle ways, he’s felt like home too.

You’re staring at each other, still a little sleepy, and share a smile.

“I guess I’ll see you out in the real world,” Kuroo says as he stands up and stretches. The sun’s peaking now and you notice that the light hits him beautifully.

A packed suitcase and a travel bag sits at the foot of your bed along with a map of Osaka’s station as the lockscreen on your phone. You think about Kuroo as you watch him stretch and smile at you, nostalgia clawing up your throat.

“See you,” you smile and wave at him as he leaves.

You think of how he said see you, instead and goodbye and how it sounds like what you’d say to your friends when you went home from the pool or library.

Like you were just leaving and coming home in time to see him the next four am.

It’s like a promise, you think.

You smile and settle on the thought that the sentiment’s nice.

It’s seven hours later when you’re sitting in the window seat of a bullet train when your phone lights up with a text.

Kuroo Tetsurou: when u wake up at four like the lunatic you are, you can still call me. i’ll be up :) goodluck in the real world.

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raziroo · 3 years

Text

Chapter Four | I Take A Liking To Lilac All Of A Sudden

Pairing: Lotor x Reader (There you go)

Genre: Angst? I don't knowww

Warnings: Mentions of cancer, mild swearing

Word Count: 1,676

Author’s Note: This is kind of a filler? I can't write long shit in one sitting, so. It's important to reader and lotor's relationship, tho.

‘Good luck. Come back alive, all of you, alright?’ I asked, my eyes roving over the three people standing before me – Matt, Pidge, and Shiro. ‘It’s, like, one of the simplest things you could do. You give Lotor, you get Mr. Holt. Simple. Very simple and easily doable. Right?’ My gaze dragged over all of them once more as I picked at my nails nervously. As much as I was aware of the fact that this trade wasn’t simple and easily doable, I knew that I would legitimately have a nervous breakdown if I didn’t spew lies through my teeth.

Shiro smiled at me lightly. ‘Of course. I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong. You guys take care too.’

‘If, however, anything happens,’ Allura chided, ‘the other lions will arrive as soon as possible.’

‘Yeah,’ Pidge said with a wry smirk, ‘so try not to pass out.’

‘Okay,’ I nodded my head rapidly, ‘yeah, okay, I – I can do that.’

‘Good. Well, we’ll get going then,’ Shiro announced, and turned around, the others following him.

Hopefully, all would go well.

. . . . .

You know what? Everything actually went relatively well. Yes, my hunch turned out to be correct and Zarkon chose to go through with the ‘I was lying all along! Bwahahaha!’ route and ended up getting himself killed at the hands of his son, but overall, I’d say it was a win-win, seeing that we got Pidge’s father back (thank God, who knows what havoc she’d wreak if we ended up not getting Sam back) and the evil maniacal tyrant who’d been ruling over the universe for ten thousand years died.

The one downside was that now there needed to be a new Emperor, because following Zarkon’s death, not only the Galra empire, but simultaneously the entire universe had gone into a state of chaos too. There was no doubt that underlings and generals would try to take over smaller parts of the empire, and once that happened, Voltron being able to do anything would be a stretch.

And, according to Lotor, a ceremony to crown the new emperor, the Kral Zera, would now be taking place. Once he said that, he really didn’t need to say more – it was obvious what his implications were. A new emperor was to be crowned, and if Voltron was to achieve peace, Lotor would have to go and secure the throne. It was a sensible thought to be had, no problem. The thing was, to reach the Kral Zera, which was taking place in two days, in itself was a decision to be taken with utmost thought. The Paladins just didn’t have enough time to decide.

On the one hand, Shiro and Lotor were adamant that the latter be crowned emperor; the other Paladins, however, were justifiably hesitant. I had been standing there listening to them going back and forth, not saying a word myself, like always.

To be honest, I just wanted to go sleep. For some reason, I’d been feeling overly anxious these past few days. White was still not responding to me, I was having regular dreams about the day I woke up here. It was always that one day, that first conversation I had with Shiro. It was as if my subconsciousness too wanted me to reach out to Shiro because there was clearly something weird going on with him.

My suspicions only solidified when I heard Shiro’s voice boom through the room. My head snapped up. Lance with a look of shock and the slightest bit of fear on his face, Shiro’s visage twisted with uncharacteristic anger.

‘Shiro. I think you should just relax a little.’ The man turned to me, brows pinched.

‘I am relaxed -’

‘No, I really think you aren’t… so, like… take it easy, yeah?’ I asked, jumping my eyebrows, arms still folded in front of me, maintaining a calm yet defensive posture. I could feel the entire room’s gazes on me. After all, I almost never spoke in such discussions, or any discussions, really, and indirectly opposing Shiro, of all people, was way too brave a thing for me to do.

Shiro looked at me with slight disbelief, a glint in his eye challenging me to speak up. ‘You want me to take it easy? Take it easy? The fate of the universe depends on this, taking it easy is really not an option right now. I��ve put my foot down – as the Leader of Voltron, I’ve taken this decision. You aren’t someone befitted to oppose me.’

Ok, wow. Everyone shared the same opinion apparently, as now the silence seemed piercing. Clicking my tongue, I tilted my head. ‘Well, maybe not as a Paladin, which I’m not, or a member of the coalition. But as a friend, Shiro, you’ve been acting strange. Everyone realises this. You realise this. … Maybe, I don’t know… maybe all this reflecting on you’ve been doing, maybe the role of leader is taking a toll on you? I, heh,’ I chuckle, ‘I really am not sure. But you’re not relaxed, and you’re not acting yourself.’

‘Could you please not tell me how to be a Paladin?’

‘While you all waste time squabbling, sinister forces are conspiring to fill the Galra power void. If I don’t return to claim the throne, there’s no telling who will.’

Does being royalty instantly make you a hundred times more dramatic? Sinister forces? Deadass?

I walked out.

. . . . .

Shiro went behind our back.

Yeah.

Acting like a complete bitch, he took Lotor to the Kral Zera, where, for your information, he could’ve been blown up. By Keith.

I wanted to deck Shiro. Instead, I visited White. I had hopes she’d respond to me, since I’d been brave and spoken my mind. I prayed on all the Gods and Deities above that my expectations became reality.

Yeah, they didn’t. She didn’t budge. The whole entire two goddamned hours I sat in front of White, she ignored me. Frustrated, I ended up punching her, resulting in bleeding knuckles. Lotor saw that, by the way. He seemed to always be keeping an eye on White, regardless of me being there or not, which I admit is a little strange, but I wasn’t judging. These aliens seemed to worship the Lions.

Lotor also invited us to the Galra headquarters, and lord oh my lord, was it fancy. Allura had gone off to do research with Lotor (I’d been about to make a joke about what “research” those two were really about to do, if you catch my drift, but then I saw Lance looking at the pair glumly, and thought better of it. I’d lightly punched Lance on the shoulder, and raised my eyebrows so as to say ‘They’re gorgeous aliens who could give Bella Hadid and Harry Styles a run for their money, it can’t be helped.’ He laughed.) I accompanied Hunk, Lance and Pidge in their shenanigans for a while, but ended up wandering around the place.

Space was beautiful. Even through a window, I wanted to just stare at it for as long as I could, enjoying a show more realistic than ever before. It was really similar to all the Marvel movies I’d watched; I felt a weird sense of pride at that realization. I remembered how I’d cried at the end of Infinity War, my friends clinging to me and bawling as well; how loud I’d squealed at an absolutely steamy piece of Kakashi fanart Cory had drawn; how happy I’d been when Sasha, my neighbour and childhood friend, had come out victorious after battling cancer for years.

I hadn’t realized when the tears had started slipping down my cheeks. I wiped at them, but they wouldn’t go. Sniffling and wiping so furiously my skin would get burned when I heard footsteps, I turned to see Lotor approaching me.

‘Hey -’ shit, my voice was so thick. Clearing my throat obnoxiously loud, I greeted him again. ‘Hey, uh… what… how’s yours and Allura’s research going?’

‘The research has been going quite smoothly.’

‘Hmm. Nice.’

Lotor was staring – no, correction - scrutinising me. I could feel it, his intense as hell eyes burning into the side of my face. I wasn’t going to give up, though. I stared at the window with as much concentration as he me.

He was the first to speak up. Ha.

‘You’re not of the Paladins.’

‘Really? I didn’t know, thanks,’ I still wasn’t looking at him.

‘Deepest apologies if I offended you -’

‘You didn’t, it’s okay.’

‘…’

‘…If you wish to answer, why do you appear… distant, compared to the other Paladins? You say they are your friends, but there’s such scarce interaction… you seem acquaintances at best.’

‘… They are my friends. I like to think so, because, well… because I don’t have anyone to go back home to.’

‘Oh. My apologies, I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘You didn’t pry, chill. It’s not that my family’s dead or anything, it’s just that… no, well, my family is dead, but… like, they’ve been dead for around three hundred or so years…?’ I turned to Lotor, brows furrowed. He looked less confused than me.

‘Sorry, no, that’s – that’s shit explanation, um… you could say… I… I’ve lived past my time. I’m alive when I’m not supposed to be.’

I didn’t explicitly mention, as you can see, that I was a time traveller, because I wasn’t really one with that fact yet. I’d accepted it, yes, but that didn’t mean I was comfortable with it. It was still a foreign truth, something I didn’t take great joy in talking or thinking about.

When I turned to Lotor, I felt like he’d understood what he needed to already.

It was bizarre. A lilac alien was the last person I would expect to understand me so easily, but it was what it was.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #lotor #lotor x reader #shiro #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #katie holt #keith kogane #galra #allura #coran #honerva #haggar #altea

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ilovesamheughan · 3 years

Text

Herself is fun like no other! 😂

Diana Gabaldon's Foreword to Clanlands Reveals Behind-the-Scenes Stories from the Outlander Set

Here's your first look at the introduction to Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish's new book.

BY DIANA GABALDON

NOV 3, 2020

outlander season 2 2016ED MILLER / STARZ

Well, in The Beginning . . . there was a man in a kilt.

I’ve always figured that if there’s something you want to do, you should start doing it, and if it’s the right thing, the universe kind of comes out to meet you. So, I started writing a novel about a man in a kilt, and the universe brought me a television show.

I’ve been indirectly responsible for a lot of strange things since I wrote Outlander – from:

. . . five seasons (so far) of a hit TV series

. . . the names of dozens of purebred dogs, racehorses and housing developments

. . . thousands of babies named Brianna or Jamie (no one has ever, to my knowledge, named a child ‘Murtagh’, which is puzzling . . .)

. . . Lord John Grey’s Tea

. . . symphonic band compositions

. . . a musical

. . . a Scottish woolen mill specialising in tartan

. . . a marvelous pair of cookbooks

. . . three million knitted cowls

. . . dozens of female fans who lower their trousers at book signings to show me ‘Da mi basia mille’ tattooed on their tailbones (as my husband remarked to me, ‘Well, how many people can say,“Kiss my ass” in classical Latin?’)

. . . a 72% increase in Scottish tourism (as Visit Scotland was kind enough to tell me), and

. . . an excellent whisky called ‘Sassenach’

But this book may be one of the strangest, and definitely one of the best!

I’m deeply honoured that Sam and Graham have asked me to write the foreword to one of the most interesting, unusual (to put it mildly . . .) and hilarious books I’ve read in a long time. I’m not quite sure what you’d call it, but then I’m used to not being able to describe my own books in twenty-five words or less, so this is probably not a problem.

To start with, it’s a buddy book. Two good friends banter (and bicker) their way across the Scottish Highlands, risking life and limb in that casual way that makes men attractive. Why? Well, because they’re both Scottish and they have both been a large part of Outlander (not just the television show, but the whole weird phenomenon), have realised that they are Scottish (wearing a kilt every day for two years will do that to you), and want to find out where their heritage came from and what being Scottish actually means (aside from being born liking whisky)

It’s also a road book. (Think Jack Kerouac, but with fewer drugs, more paragraphs and no sex. Well, almost no sex . . .).

Our two friends are in fact making a television series about several historical locations in the Highlands. Accompanied by a small film crew – including a talented makeup artist and a drone operator – they visit spectacular historical locations in the Scottish Highlands to learn the true history of some of the best-known massacres, fights, betrayals, beheadings, and other typically Scottish recreational activities. This is the story of that journey, accomplished via an aged Fiat camper van, tandem bike, kayak and any number of other improbable modes of transport that only make sense to people suffering from testosterone poisoning.

And on their way, they talk. Not only to each other, but to themselves. In some of its phases, the book is a twin memoir. Each man recalls his life as an actor – in bits – because every actor (like every writer) pretty much makes it up as they go along. Which means a lot of the stories are of the kind that are only funny to the protagonists with twenty years’ perspective, but are endlessly entertaining to the spectators.

These reminiscences include a good many stories from the Outlander set, as well. I’m only on set myself intermittently, but I do recall the day in Season Two when Sam’s horse – which he was preparing to mount – decided to take its mother’s advice and relieve itself before setting out (there’s reason why most costumes are made in multiples). And another occasion during Season Two wherein Graham was required to ride a mechanical horse (as the director said to me, ‘It looks like shit, but you won’t be able to actually see it on film’)

The mechanical horse was carried on the back of a truck, followed by another truck with a camera, and Graham was supposed to leap into the mechanical horse’s saddle while moving (supposedly jump-ing from another horse). This being television, they filmed the scene many, many times to ensure enough footage to get the effect they were after. When they finally stopped, Graham staggered downhill from the road where they’d been doing this, pausing by me and Anne Kenney (brilliant writer of the other episode in that block of filming) to say, ‘I’ve just been having a conversation with my balls. They said, “We’d really rather you didn’t do that again”’. And staggered on, muttering, ‘I knew I should have worn a cup this morning . . .’.

And finally, there’s the actual history of the ‘clan lands’, woven through this tale of a journey. The travelers reach the most interesting/famous/relevant Highland locations, where they do learn what their history and heritage are, assisted by some of the most colorful inhabitants of those places.

So, you’re actually getting four books in one! (A real bargain . . .).

But the most important part of this book is the friendship between its authors, that colours and illuminates every page.

I was both intrigued and immensely entertained by the story, but also touched on a personal level. One of the most unexpected aspects of the whole ‘Outlander phenomenon’ is the amazing way in which it seems to draw people together. People read the books and watch the show – and they want to talk about it. So, they form fan groups and book clubs and Facebook forums, and deep, lasting friendships, all because of a shared love of a story.

I will always recall one woman who brought me a book at a signing, who told me that she lived alone, had been alone for many years, seldom got out and had no family – but that she’d become attracted to the story, found others who felt likewise, and who invited her to go with them to book-signings, premieres and conventions. ‘Now I have friends!’, she said. She cried, and so did I.

I hope you’ll feel that sense of friendship in these pages.

A final word, since this book is all about returning to one’s roots: Some years ago, one of my novels won the Corine International Prize for Fiction, and I was invited to go to Germany to accept the award. This was rather a Big Deal for the German publisher, and they took advantage of my presence to have me interviewed by the entire German press corps; newspapers, magazines, radio, television, literary journals, you name it. By the end of the week I was sleep deprived and a bit glazed over when I met a nice gentleman from one of the literary journals.

Delightful man, he went on at great (and flattering) length about the books. He loved my narrative drive, my characters were tremendous, my imagery transcendent!

So I’m sitting there in a pleasant daze, thinking, ‘Yes, yes, go on . . .’, when he suddenly said, ‘There is just one thing I wonder: can you explain to me, what is the appeal of a man in a kilt?’.

Well, had I been totally conscious, I might not have said it (then again . . .). Anyway, I looked at him for a moment and said, ‘Well . . .I suppose it’s the idea that you could be up against a wall with him in a moment.’

<ahem>

A few weeks later, home again in Arizona, I get a packet of interview clippings from the German publisher, and on the top is the interview from that journal. The publisher had attached a Post-it note, saying, ‘I don’t know what you said to this man, but I think he is in love with you!’.

A man in a kilt. A very powerful and compelling image, yes . . . And now you have two of them . . .

Pour yourself a good dram, open the covers and enjoy yourself!

Slàinte mhath!

Diana Gabaldon

Scottsdale, Arizona

August, 2020

#sam heughan #clanlands book #diana gabaldon #grahammctavish

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orangegreet · 3 years

Text

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 8

On the Other Side of the Fold | Part Two

In which we learn just how it is that the Sun Summoner got herself so deep in this shit.

Everything about this was wrong.

The gathered crowd cheered and wept as they looked at her. Alina caught faces of people she knew but her mind could not place them.

Nothing felt real. Her hand was limp in Zlatan’s and her insides were caving in.

She had thought the knowledge that she would not ever actually marry him would be enough to sustain the illusion. Pushing through would be easier if she knew she would never have to kiss him, would never have to pretend she enjoyed his touch.

It was not enough.

Her chest pulsed. Anguish. Agony.

She recognized it, of course, but was surprised it was not only her own that she felt.

And then her eyes found Aleksander’s across the square.

Their tether was amplified and energized from their week together and in that moment she felt as if she was projected forward, standing directly in front of him.

Every inch of his face and his body and his soul was exposed to her and she did not deserve the honor of it.

She was broken and confused and she felt like a child in her naivety.

Did she know he would not come after her? Is it not what she would have done for him?

This was not what she had planned for when she began this day. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to fall apart.

____________________________

Roughly Three Years Ago

The resolve she felt to leave Aleksander alone was not soothing. The image of him, prostrate and half mad on his bed on a winter night, replayed in her head over again.

She needed him. She could not be with him right now.

She wanted to be. It was not fair to him to stay at arm’s length all the time.

Restless and agitated, Alina sent herself on trips around the West, hoping to alleviate the pangs of longing—or at least distract herself from it.

It was one thing to have spent a whole decade without him. She was so young when they first met. So certain in her opinion of good and evil. Of right and wrong.

He hurt her then and she spent a decade licking her wounds and holding herself above him, apart from him.

During that time she had mostly focused on the negative feelings she harbored. Half crazed with intrusive thoughts of him, of his voice and his touch and his very being, she endeavored to convince herself of his ambivalence toward her.

He did not want her for herself as a whole—he wished only to harness her power.

Living in that lie allowed her freedoms she would otherwise withhold from herself. She indulged in everything she wished and denied herself nothing.

Heartache at leaving behind her Shadow Summoner—her equal and her opposite in life—a man who apparently wanted nothing but her power for himself, granted her permission to dive deep into an emotional numbness.

There, she found, she could indulge in every manner of pleasure available. She entertained multiple partners, explored new depths of her powers, practiced an autonomy previously unknown to her.

She was free and untethered.

At the root of this numbness, the thing which made it all truly unbearable, was that everyone around her, her friends and her cohorts, deeply loathed the Darkling.

For many of them, he was a ruthless General who called them to give their lives for him without any promise of peace.

Forced conscription was not a desirable outcome for these soldiers who eventually became deserters of his Second Army.

He ordered them to give their lives, to sacrifice themselves in Ravkan wars and he promised it would be worth it for the life they would gain.

But too many of his soldiers saw only death and destruction. Too many felt their early grave would cheat them of the life they were promised.

Others, worse still, were victims to his spies and enforcers. Devoted Second Army soldiers (for there were ten times as many loyal servants as there were impassioned deserters), did their part excavating Grisha refugees from hiding in order to ensure no one dodged the draft.

Young children, ripped from the arms of their families and sent to the Little Palace. It was cruel to witness. Cruel to live.

Alina sat, arms looped over a distraught mother, fresh to the loss of her child—and she felt shame.

Shame because she could not find a fury for the Black General.

What she found instead was a soup of feelings, stewed together and luke warm. Where was her rage? Her sense of justice?

She felt only confusion and defense. Love and loyalty tangled across lines in the sand.

No one shared her views. No one was safe to speak with about them. No one would entertain a conversation on the possible virtues of the Darkling.

Ten years passed this way.

_________________________

Her doubts had been growing for a while.

Her memories of him reformed, casting him in a new light and she began to consider a harder truth to swallow after nearly a decade of dismissal: the Darkling, the Shadow Summoner—the Black Heretic, had been just as madly in love with her as she had been with him.

They were eternal. She knew this—this was a concrete fact to which she would hold tight. Eternal. Inevitable.

One day it would be just the two of them.

Alina found that was the only true relief for her loneliness.

Then Aleksander called her to him at that army outpost and together they melted into the bliss of reunion and acknowledged the truth of their fate.

Alina felt so full for the first time. Everything was coming to rights. At last.

That anxious fiery feeling that she harbored always inside herself was soothed and quelled with the introduction of his patient, cool darkness and she felt that, finally, she was at peace.

Aleksander did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. All that was left was to let the pieces fall in place. Time.

Now she knew, she could work toward that Inevitable.

Speed it up. Help it along.

_____________________

Alina was reenergized in her operations and strategized her next moves. If she could get her people set up on their own, self-sufficient and motivated without relying on a Sun Summoner, she could be free.

It was time to begin the next phase—expansion.

For too long, her group struggled to maintain alliances in Kerch and in West Ravka. The place where people should be most enlightened and sympathetic to the plight of Grisha, refugees struggled to flee without risking captivity. Without risking death.

Fjerda chased them south and Shu Han shooed them further West and slavers packed them onto ships and delivered them to Kerch.

Their operation had grown under her leadership. They had the people and the training to establish strongholds in more places than just Novyi Zem.

Her hope for what was to come, for a life with Aleksander, at his side, buoyed her into her next mission.

It was time to establish a presence in West Ravka and with the help of Nikolai, she was ushered into the caring home of upper class sympathizers. Do-gooders who believed in rights for all people.

Their own son was Grisha; a tide maker who worked under a ‘Captain Sturmhond.’

For upperclass people such as themselves, it was the best they could hope for given the political climate in West Ravka.

The winds were changing and on this side of the Fold, the public was growing confident in their prejudice against Grisha.

Ignorance and hate which only grew under the influence of the growing Secessionist Party.

_____________________

When Alina met the General of the First Army, it was well before he became General.

At the time she had paid little attention to him. He was nothing more than a Commander—one who should have been sidelined by Xenia. Then by Xenia’s father.

The blushing Commander Zlatan should have been married off to her beautiful friend and host. He should have retired from the Army and been pushed into his wife’s family business.

A lucrative career managing exports with posh comforts at home and gorgeous, lovely wife to adore.

Zlatan never would have risen in the ranks. Never would have become the blight that he was now.

She still remembered the supper party when it all fell apart. When Zlatan was dismissed and would never again be invited into their home. His courtship with Xenia effectively nullified.

“A sun summoner?” Alina had said, picking up the line of conversation started by Commander Zlatan to Xenia’s father at the head of the table.

He had mentioned the phrase indirectly and Alina was just nervous enough to risk a faux pas by bringing it to the attention the entire table. “I did not realize you were a religious man, Commander."

He frowned, “Indeed, I am not. However, the rumors I’ve been hearing around the city have given me pause. Scattered eye witness accounts followed by bodies burnt to a crisp. Ghastly sun burns in the shape of a human hand over their mouths.”

The women at the table gasped and the Commander apologized, “I do not mean to speak in poor taste, ladies. Pardon me. I sometimes forget I am not on base. I will endeavor to make the switch to a more sensitive nature.”

His declaration was met with a polite nod from Xenia’s mother and Xenia herself. However, Alina could not abandon the topic so easily.

“How can we be sure this is the work of a fabled Sun Summoner? I am sorry to sound skeptical—but my education keeps me hesitant to lean in to such rumors.” Alina answered with a decisive nod.

"What do you propose it is?” Zlatan eyed her curiously. As usual, Alina found herself squirming under his gaze. Something in it was unsettling.

“Weapons, Commander. Nations at war bring about the most gruesome technology.” She said simply.

“If not that, why not a rogue Inferni Grisha? I suppose because it is much less sensational, it is not something the public would like to accept.”

“No, they do want to believe this is proof of a Sun Summoner.” He took another drink from his goblet and lowered it. “As I am not in religious company I will share that I do not hold much hope for a Sun Summoner myself. Even if there were such a creature, the Fold is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.”

Xenia’s father looked dismayed. “Surely you do not speak of secession, Commander?” Xenia was frowning, shuffling in her seat.

“Come now, Daniil. Let us not be naive. We all know that West Ravka could be a stronger country—a greater one—if were not expected to keep sending our goods and money through the abyss of the Fold. We cannot remain dependent on the crown while this obstacle divides our country. Secession is the only solution.” A servant stepped forward to refill the goblet of the Commander.

“Your points may have some merit, but surely you cannot expect this to be seen through. We have no allies to secede.” Daniil leaned forward in his chair, impressing his point with a finger to the table.

Daniil continued, “Any allegiance we could win on our side would put another country in jeopardy of going to war with the crown in Os Alta. Or worse, they risk being caught up in funding a civil war for us. Who do you expect will risk a war?”

Daniil was hiding his dismay quite well given the circumstances and decorum which the occasion warranted but Alina knew him well enough to think he had become quite disturbed by this turn of events.

“There is no risk to worry about if the proposed ally is currently at war with the old country, Daniil.” The Commander sounded positively smug.

Alina’s heat bristled through her body. Fjerda. He would have us align with Fjerda.

“You cannot mean—“ Danill began, asking the question about to burst from her lips.

“Fjerda has the resources and the weapons to outfit our men. They are already at war and the Tsar is barely keeping them at bay. If we ally ourselves with them, we could leverage the might of our army and theirs and gain independence from the East.”

Daniil sat back in his chair.

His eyes flicked to his daughter who was wearing her pain quite plainly. Alina held her hand under the table.

“And when Fjerda demands entry to roam West Ravka for Grisha?” Daniil asked. “To turn out houses and homes in search of them. To try them as ‘witches’ in the city square—how will the newly established West Ravkan government respond?”

The Commander blushed. The red tinging his entire face spoke to the amount of wine he consumed. “Well, allegiance bought must be paid somehow, Daniil. This is war, after all.”

Xenia, of all people, got to her feet.

The Commander looked startled to see the tears on her face.

“The way you cast the lives of people at the feet of monsters does not make you cunning. It makes you a monster. I would like for you to leave now.” Her eyes shifted to her father’s who nodded and rose from his chair.

Xenia left the room. The Commander was never invited back.

________________________

Alina did not see him again for a couple years. Neither the commander, nor Aleksander whom she was still on a freeze out with—as they agreed.

She filled her time traveling around West Ravka, visiting orphanages and villages.

Praying for the people, delivering food and supplies—it was an excellent cover for finding Grisha in hiding.

Helping funnel them through the proper channels to get out of the West now that Secessionist lunatics were rising up against them.

Secessionists did not separate a common Grisha from a Second Army soldier. In their eyes, all Grisha who were citizens of Ravka must eventually be conscripted and would ultimately be used by the Tsar to fight them in the impending Civil War.

The people did not know they had a Sun Summoner in their midst. To them, she was merely Anya—Sankta Anya as she was increasingly named.

Her reputation preceded her and when she visited a village, people cheered and rallied around the Mother of Ravka.

She prayed and dying crops came back to life, revitalized whole fields as if the feeding power of sunlight were injected back into their stems by her prayers alone.

Through the power of her persuasion and charm, she arranged a new eco-system in every village.

With the crop lands producing double their share, the farmers had more wealth. Anya—Santka Anya—asked only in payment that they proceed to donate a percentage of their wealth and resources toward lifting up the orphans and sickly members in their community.

What farmer would dare go back on their word? If they did, would they not see their crop begin to fail? It was too great a risk.

This simple act boosted the economies, lifting the lowest class into a livable state of being.

Sankta Anya brought with her reason and prayer and she left behind harmony and abundance. And the people loved her for it.

____________________________

It was in one such town, that she sat at the table of a nobleman who employed half the village with work weaving and stitching sailcloth for the West Ravkan Fleet.

In this home she came across Commander Zlatan again. A man whom she had not seen in two years—not since that night when he revealed himself as a Secessionist and showed the depth of his evil.

Alina was quite chilly toward him the entire evening which, to her consternation, the Commander seemed to find quite amusing.

He eyed her like rabbit caught in a trap and it wasn’t until the dinner had ended that she received another shock from him.

Zlatan had cornered her in the sitting room where she waited for her escort to fetch the borrowed coach which would return her to the town.

“It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Anya. You really do look well.” Alina looked around the room, wishing dearly for an escape but there was no one.

Only she and Zlatan.

“You are too kind, Commander, really.” She turned away from him, eyes expectant on the door.

“Forgive me for my haste but I do not know when I will get the chance to see you again.” Zlatan said.

Alina turned a sharp expression on him, taking a step back as she did so.

“It has taken a while to catch up to you, you see. It seems you travel farther and faster than a bird’s migration and I am embarrassed to say I have been chasing you for quite a while now.”

Alina turned up a corner of her mouth and then glanced back toward the door, “Well best say your piece, Commander. I am quite tired and will not wish to delay once the coach arrives.”

Zlatan laughed, as if that is precisely what he expected her to say.

“Very well then. Typically I would not wish to rush such a task but you leave me little choice. I wished ask if you are betrothed.”

The words landed with a thud between them and Alina stared at him in shock.

“And, if you are not, I next mean to ask if you have taken a vow of celibacy.”

He looked as confident as he had the entire conversation.

“Beg pardon, Commander, but what business is it of yours?” She said, hardly able to keep the sneer out of it.

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, you see, if you are neither betrothed and are willing to marry—well…I had thought perhaps you might be willing to hear an offer of marriage from me.”

Alina blinked rapidly and then turned away from him.

Emotions surely were playing across her face and it would not do for him to see and guess at any of her thoughts.

Alina did think of course, of Aleksander. In fact, the Commander was all but forgotten as she allowed herself to dwell on the man she was trying to leave alone at the moment.

Anything to remove herself from the here and now.

The Commander was making quite a name for himself and his outspoken political views across West Ravka. If Aleksander had heard any of the whisperings about this man in the last couple of years—well there could not be another man who was a perfect foil of her Shadow Summoner.

Elite and high-ranking army member, rising leader of the Secessionist Party and someone who gave no regard for any Grisha, friend or foe. Perfect opposites.

They would destroy each other if given the chance.

She longed for Aleksander and for one insane moment, she thought to tug on their tether and see if he would come to her. Witness this catastrophic event for himself.

Alina righted herself—the fear of what she had almost just done knocked her back into reality and she turned back to Commander Zlatan. The blushing man she met a couple years ago all but erased and replaced with this cocky militant.

“Why would you want to marry me, Commander? You hardly have a shortage of suitable matches—many women who would bring you money and status.”

“Indeed.” His eyes glimmered at hers and nausea swept through her gut, “Those women may be suitable for my station now, perhaps. However, for what I am to become I need someone more… Saint-sent.”

Alina quirked a brow but said nothing.

“You see, Anya,” He condescended, “It is no secret that General Balakin is getting on in years. There is talk among the ranks that he is on his way out—”

He cut himself off. Allowing a finger to pull at his own cuffs to cover his nerves.

“To speak quite plainly, you have the love of the people.”

A bitterness stole over his features, “‘Sankta Anya’. Had I known the night we met how that title would stick…”

He did not finish his thought.

When she did not speak he added, “I’m not doing a very good job of selling this to you, am I?”

“You’re not. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the circumstances under which we met but I have not.”

“Ah. I was more naive then.” His eyes flicked to the floor, “Xenia was a wonderful woman—is a wonderful woman, I am sure, but we did not see eye to eye on important matters.”

Alina thought to show him her power right then and there.

The desire to see him quake in his uniform and bow before her celestial starlight was compulsive. She would have him on his knees right there before she burned him through.

She remained stubbornly composed.

“In any case, Commander, what sort of woman would it make me to betray the trust of a once dear friend and confidant?”

“Please cease your coy attitude, Miss, and let us speak frankly.” Zlatan demanded.

Alina blinked at him.

“I will ascend as the General of the First Army before the years end. Where General Balakin threatened and teased a plan for secession for years, I will make good on that deliverance.”

He held the lapels of his uniform, head up high, “I would do so better with you at my side. Should you find me so abhorrent that you would not consider a more intimate relationship, I will be satisfied in a political marriage—partnership, even, with you.”

“You presume I wish to partner with you. I assure you, I do not.”

“It is the people who will be served by our union. Surely you see that, Anya.”

She bristled at the implication. At the way he so clearly spoke only of the otkazat’sya. Forget the people who he would leave to ruin—her true people.

“You speak so casually about undermining the rule of a Tsar and claiming half a country in your own name.”

“No!” Zlatan stepped forward. She stepped back.

He held his hands up in placation, “Not my name. The name of the people. Our people in West Ravka—they deserve better than what we have been served on this side of the Fold.

“With you at my side, the common people will be assured of our leadership through what is to come—even if it is civil war.”

They both knew it would assure a civil war and yet he continued to condescend her. “They trust your good nature, Sankta. They will follow your rule.”

Alina turned away from him.

This changed everything. How this opportunity could have fallen into their laps—it was unheard of.

She could not look at him. The Council would have to know—and soon.

“Very well. I will think it over. I require time to pray to the Saints for guidance.”

She could hear the eye roll occurring behind her back.

“Of course. At the Saints mercy. Will a month be enough?”

Her panic spiked.

“I cannot say for sure. We will start at a month.”

Zlatan was silent and then stepped closer to her.

“Very well. I will be back in the capital a few months time. Perhaps we can speak then. I will not change my mind and you will have an opportunity to truly consider the good we could do. Together.”

Alina nodded but did not look at him.

Dread had filled her up and the only relief was in that persistent hollow she found in her chest.

The space where she and Aleksander were once connected.

_________________________

It was the very next night that Alina received her wish.

Aleksander finally called to her.

She had hoped to receive clarity.

She had hoped to get in insight somehow.

Alina was ready to do away with her secrecy and let Aleksander into her plans.

Now. It was time.

Alina was ready to be his comfort and would be willing to beg for his in return—was unable to survive longer without it.

He called to her and she disappeared into their ethereal connection with haste and a tender hope.

To stumble upon the scene—her truest love, her heart tie, deep in the throes of what could only be called desperate love-making…she felt her insides squelch. Eviscerated into nothing.

His passion—Saints! his passion—it stole the breath from her lungs and the power inside her flickered in futile resistance.

She was a hollow, gutless, aching shell.

____________________________

The images plagued her for months after, following her when she closed her eyes. Forcing her to doubt what she was so sure of once.

It interrupted her thoughts, peppering the conversation. The very important conversation which would decide her fate.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Artur’s words pierced her reverie.

“This is better than we could have hoped. The opportunity this has afforded us—it is practically divine.” He did not bother to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Artur, speaker of the Council, held no more weight in the decisions than any other member. And yet it was he would receive her ire first.

“I will not be sold off as a bride to that Grisha-hating otkazat’sya.” She hissed.

“You will do what the Council decides. We are a democracy, Alina. You may be the Sun Summoner but you took an oath to bend to the will of the Council. Are you breaking your vow now?”

The other members shifted uneasily and Alina implored them all, sparing no one from her gaze.

“This council never used to take liberties like this—not over individuals and not over me. Whose idea was it to bring this to a vote—to take this decision away from me entirely?”

No one answered.

At first.

“I called the vote, girl.” Baghra volunteered with almost a bored expression on her face.

“Someone had to make a move. You were going to let an opportunity slip right through your inexperienced hands.”

“You of all people have no right to make these calls over my life.”

Baghra who ruined her life once would seek to ruin it again.

“You are still a child. You know nothing of the world—not like I do. Marrying Zlatan will put you in the appropriate position to take control of all West Ravka when the time is ripe—”

“Zlatan is a loathsome scoundrel and throwing my support behind him is akin to selling my very soul and all Grisha along with it.” Her hand hit the table.

“Zlatan will not dither.” Artur interjected. “He will be General within the month and he will make his move to secede within the year. It is smart of him to secure you at his side. He knows you have pull over the common people.”

Alina turned her fury back to him, “Yes and he will exploit it and crush the common people for his own gain.”

She glanced around the room, “We know this is true. We cannot consider condoning it.”

Still no one spoke.

“Nevertheless, he will secede.” Artur began again, “West Ravka wants him to do so. If he goes away, another will step in to take his place. The Secessionist Party will not be silenced, they will only be strengthened by a martyr to their cause.”

Alina began to shake her head but Artur cut her off, “The people want this, Alina. Someone will make it happen. If not Zlatan, then someone else. He is the enemy we know. We are fortunate that we know him well."

Baghra opened her mouth again, “We are fortunate that it is you he wants, Sun Summoner.”

Pabel would never have let this happen.

She wished she could speak to Aleksander. She wished she did not feel so alone. She wished she had stayed with him when she first met him.

Let him use her the way he said he would, even.

Anything would be better than this.

Artur was in full war-planning mode again, gathering nods from the Council as he met their eyes. “We let Zlatan do the dirty work of secession. Let him divide the country. Kalem is in place to take out the Tsar and the crowned prince at our direction. Nikolai will be forced to give up his alias and ship and take the throne at Os Alta.”

Alina was shaking her head again.

When had all of this moved so quickly? Had everything occurred in her absence? Was she simply a pawn for the Council now? Currying favor and love from the common people while they plotted and planned and ruined her behind closed doors?

“Yes, Alina. The Shu are making alliances with the Tsar now. They will upend the entire Second Army and no Grisha will be safe in the entire country.”

Alina pinched the bridge of her nose as old Georgy’s voice croaked from across the table, “Nikolai will step up to the throne. At last we will have a true Grisha ally on the throne in Os Alta, Alina. At last.”

The words from Pabel’s oldest friend and partner fell heavy around them. Her heart was shattering further at the sting.

When would she be allowed to decide what was right for herself?

She wondered, if her heart had not already been broken by Aleksander—if she could believe she still had him to fight for—would this go differently?

Would she feel able to truly fight back with the full might of a Solstice Sun instead of cowering like a wilting camomile in snow?

Tears welled in her eyes.

Her voice was so small.

“A Grisha ally for the throne in the East and a monster of a dictator for the West. A dictator propped up by me!” She pointed at her chest. “Propped up by this entire council! A shiny new tyrant for all Grisha on this side of the Fold!”

It was hysterical and she knew it but she could not stop herself.

“Zlatan will never work with Nikolai! He is getting in bed with Fjerda as we speak. We know this story.”

She pleaded with them, “We know what is next. Grisha hunted—Grisha enslaved. West Ravkans will have incentive to turn on their Grisha neighbors and the blood will be on our hands!”

Finally, blessedly, she saw doubt begin to show around the table.

Then Baghra spoke again, “Once Zlatan has begun the secession and you are established at his side, we will take him out.”

Alina glared at the woman. Swaying the others back under her will.

The same way she swayed Alina once upon a time.

“You have the love of the people, Sankta Anya.” Artur added, “You, not Zlatan. He needs you.”

“And when Zlatan dies, what do you expect people will do? What do you expect people will think of me?"

“No one will fault you or accuse you of blood on your hands.” Tolya said, thoughtfully. Another betrayal. “You will take up his mantle and lead West Ravka as you were meant to do.”

“You will look the perfect picture of a Saint as you do it.” Baghra again. “You will have suffered for Ravka. You will have lost your husband and the people will adore you all the more for it.”

“Then, when the time is right, you will extend an olive branch of hospitality to Nikolai.” Artur advised. “The newly installed Tsar who cannot afford a civil war right now. He will protect the Second Army.”

“But the Shu—” Alina protested.

“The deal with Shu Han and their Princess will be null under the death of the crown prince.” Baghra said almost impassively. “Nikolai will need the Second Army to fight. He will not let them fall to harm.”

Baghra gave Alina a significant look.

Aleksander would be safe. Nikolai would ensure it. He would not fall under the ire of yet another Tsar.

Alina wanted to leave. It was too much and she felt they were relying on several variables as if they were hard facts. It was not advisable.

“It is you, Alina.” Baghra said, meeting her eyes and looking more reasonable than she had ever been. “You will be the beacon of hope at last for all Grisha.”

“The Secessionists will find out I am Grisha—that I am the Sun Summoner. How will they feel about that? Will they put a stop to their Fjerdan brethren? Will they suddenly extend a neighborly hand to Grisha after years of hate and prejudice?” She asked helplessly.

She waited for a rebuttal.

The group did not disappoint.

“At the right moment, we will reveal your true gifts. We can make it look as though the Saints have blessed you with the power of the Sun before whole crowds of people.”

“We will have you shine your powers upon the Fold. If you cannot take it down entirely, you can at least blast a part of it away.” Artur said.

“The point is not what exactly you do to the Fold.” Baghra waved a hand away, “The point will be the story: People will believe they witnessed a miracle. They need not know you were born with this gift. We will sell them a better tale. That through your goodness and mercy to people, the Saints chose you as the vessel of sunlight.”

“I suppose Zlatan will not be around for this little demonstration? His little wife revealed as Grisha—he would be forced to make a stand and we know where he will stand.” Alina was growing weary.

She wished for everyone to be gone. She wished to be gone.

The world was entirely too cruel to house them all in it. She should obliterate them all.

It would be a nice thing to burn so bright for so long. Maybe there she would find peace.

Baghra dismissed this with a wave, “Zlatan will be long dead by the time you are revealed. His prejudices will not come to fruition.”

The room grew quiet. It seemed everything was finally laid out and they would all deliberate before the vote.

“Are we done for the evening? I require time to think.” Alina said.

Artur looked around and nodded to the group who began to disperse. The plot points swirled around her head and Alina gave in, getting to her feet and walking to the window.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Tamar said, timid. Alina closed her eyes, tears falling from them as her last ally in the room fell.

“I know it is not ideal and I do not want to see you married off to that scum any more than you do. But you cannot deny the plan is good.”

“I do understand, Tamar. I am taking it all into consideration. It is just, agreeing to this is a larger commitment than you know.” Aleksander rolled through her mind on a loop, Alina continued, “I will not be compliant for the sake of it.”

Tamar put a hand to her shoulder and then left.

Artur stood behind her. Alina could see him through the reflection in the mirror.

“The Council will reconvene tomorrow morning to cast their votes.” He was wringing his hands, “Alina, we will count your vote as a no and…I would request you not attend the meeting.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I am banned from meeting with the Council now? A meeting which will decide my fate?”

“We feel that in order to get the most honest votes, it would be better if everyone felt less…conflicted.” Artur said.

He took a breath and stood up straighter. “They have heard your objections and should you wish to voice them again before the vote, you are welcome to deliver them in the opening minutes.

“However, it would be better for the council members and for you, I think, to be allowed some semblance of anonymity. It is only right for the Council to have some emotional distance in order to put all Grisha and Ravka at the forefront of their priorities when they cast their vote.”

To not have to look you in the eyes when they trade you like a Grisha trafficker. The words hung unsaid between them.

When she did not respond, Artur left.

Alina turned, scowling at her reflection in the glass. The view held no stars tonight and she felt as cloudy as the sky. Blurred and confused.

Her thoughts turned again to Aleksander and she almost broke.

He called to her at this very moment. Had not stopped really since the night she first witness him with his lover.

His calls to her would crumble the stone fortress around her eventually. Wave after wave of persistence and desire and need crashed into the barrier and it was all she could do to keep him out.

The way her heart hurt. The way she longed.

Why could she not have been granted centuries alone like he? She would have been able to stand on this side of those years tall and invulnerable—used to the loneliness. She would be experienced in handling the empty, hollow feeling in her chest.

As it was, she felt little more than a child, puffing up her age. She had thought to show him how strong she could be.

Impress him with her self-sufficiency and strategic execution.

She had wanted to conquer the West. Wanted to own it outright.

Then, when the day came, she would join him. They would reunite Ravka. Either by channel through the Fold or by marriage or both. Eventually both.

Inevitably both.

When had it all become so muddy? The way was blurred and opaque now and it felt as if nothing made sense.

The Council would make her a traitor to herself. To her people. To her Shadowed lifeline.

How would he look at her knowing she had allowed herself to be manhandled into a political marriage. One which might impede their own union?

“The others may not guess all your reasons to protest, girl, but I can.”

The fight left her body and her forehead thudded against the glass in response to her voice.

When would Aleksander retrieve his mother?

He may have endured centuries with her but Alina could not last that long under these circumstances. If things carried on this way, Baghra would not survive it either.

Wouldn’t that be just poetic? Baghra gets her death wish fulfilled by her son’s eternal lover.

“Have the last word and be gone, Baghra. I wish to retire.”

Baghra was quiet, though not with judgement. It did not permeate the air as it typically did when she wanted to give Alina her unsolicited opinion.

Alina turned and looked at the old woman with a cautious curiosity.

She looked quite sad.

"I was…mistaken, I believe.”

The words tapped around Alina’s brain, looking for a way in but Alina was thoroughly nonplussed.

“Mistaken.” Alina repeated slowly.

“I warned you off of my son. I meant you to be afraid of him. I believed at the time you would bend to his whim and bring the earth down around him as a result.” Baghra said, voice rough with more than her old age.

“I did not think much of you. You were every bit the naive woman I’d feared you to be. Your loyalty and objectives were unknown and untested to me at the time.”

Baghra took a breath, looking everywhere except Alina. “And so I did as I must.”

“You poisoned me against him. Do not white wash that narrative, Baghra. You assured me of his dark, black heart.”

Alina felt the anger in her tears. In the floodgate of emotion opening up, Alina finally found herself the target of her own scorn.

“And then I was the one who believed it. You were a snake but I was every bit as naive as you expected to have taken your words for truth—to accept them so easily.”

Baghra looked away from her. “Nevertheless, I say this to assure you that where I was mistaken then, I am not mistaken now. Aleksander will be better for this. We can protect him.”

She looked meaningfully at Alina. “But you have to play your part.”

Alina shook her head.

“I will not marry Zlatan. No matter what the vote decides tomorrow.”

“You would risk losing control of the entire country over a vanity title? A political marriage—”

“I will not be sold off simply because I am a woman and this is convenient. I will give myself to no one whom I do not choose. I will not perpetuate a lie!” She shouted.

“Use your head, girl.” Baghra hissed. All quiet and peace forgotten.

“Zlatan will assassinate the Darkling as soon as he is in power. He will use the youth of the bastard son Nikolai to his advantage and cut off the resources for the East at the throat. Think! He fears all Grisha, fears what they can do. He fears the might and power of the Second Army on a battle field. Knows he would not win against them in a civil war. And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. The ‘other’ General.”

"You’re baiting me. I won’t fall for this again.”

“Stupid girl! Do you not understand!? Zlatan will not allow the boy Tsar to keep his Grisha army. You know the pig is allying with Fjerda. He would use them to end the Second Army—may even use them to take down the Little Palace itself.” Baghra was moving closer to Alina and she was already against a wall.

No escape.

“Then we will stop him. We will find another way.”

“This is the way, girl. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another. If you want to keep him alive, this is the best way.”

Alina wanted to scream. She was combusting. Her Light was reaching a critical mass inside of her and any moment her skin would burst and she would detonate.

“I am going to bed. I cannot listen anymore.” She panted, escaping the common room.

_________________________

Alina had just locked the door behind her when she felt it.

Something far worse than the usual insistent tugs of Aleksander.

At first, it was excruciating pain. Radiating from her chest and illuminating her core with Light in some sort of internal fear response.

And then, nothing.

Alina felt as though she were being unmoored. Sent to drift at sea.

Stuck in the abyss of space without an anchor.

She panicked, scrabbling for the loose tether in her chest and held tight.

And then he appeared.

Or rather she appeared to him, where he lay on the ground. Unconscious as blood poured from his back.

“Sasha.” He was hazy before her. That was unusual.

His eyes snapped open, a huff fogging in the air around him. She could not see anyone touching him.

“Sasha…” She said again into the space between them.

“You’re here.” He said. “My sun.”

“What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into, Aleksander?”

She rubbed at her chest where everything was unfurling and the frayed tendrils were like a charged wire split apart.

It danced in the energy that poured from it. It lashed through her core, untamed. It was painful.

She wanted to panic. She was afraid to lose her head. Afraid to miss this.

“A Fjerdan wolf.” He coughed, blood drops splattering over his lips. “You would admire the beast, I’ve no doubt.”

His lips turned up in a wry smile. “I did not see it directly, but I imagine it’s feral rage would remind me of you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

His lungs heaved a breath. “Everything reminds me of you, in any case…”

He drifted off for a few seconds, stirring only at the sound of her voice.

“Where are you?” She demanded of him. His brow furrowed at her tone. “I will come to you at once but you have to tell me now.”

He sighed again and looked confused, as if he had not understood her.

“If I was to die, I wished it to be at your hands, zoloste. With you I would be warm and you could burn me up. It would be frightening and it would be beautiful.”

“No.” She growled at him, wiping the blood from his lip with her thumb, “Get up you fool. You will not leave me alone on this rock. Aleksander. Get up.”

A chill shuddered over him. She could not see anything but shapes around him.

Was no one going to do anything?

The adrenaline she felt was turning rancid with desperation as she watched him covered in blood but remained impotent to act. Thousands of miles stretched between them.

Baghra’s words were flying like a banner through her head, And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another.

She felt they were fading. He was fading.

Who was going to help him? Where was his army?

“Can you not keep me warm now? It is cold here, where I am. Can you see the snow?” His state was turning toward delirium and she sprang forward to hold his cheek as if just that touch would keep him anchored.

He smiled and twitched his head but did not move.

“I would have your palm on my lips so I could taste your skin, moya koroleva. Please, just once.”

She bristled even as angry tears dropped from her bowed head.

“Stop it, you foolish, foolish old man. Stop trying to give your solemn farewell, I will not tolerate it for another second.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“It makes you sound weak.” She spat the words at him.

He only sighed.

“I hate you for this, Aleksander. I will never forgive you for this.”

He hummed and his eyes closed in relish.

“I adore your zeal always. It lights something in me.” With the little movement he could manage he pressed his face further into her other palm, still warm on his cheek.

“My temperamental lioness. My mercurial, majestic, little Star.” He grinned with eyes closed enjoying his private thoughts.

“These are all the endearments I would name you with—I have others more colorful if you would like to hear them?”

Her hand stroked over his dark locks and tears were still falling and her chest felt close to combustion just hovering on the edge of breaking her apart.

He opened his eyes, a wearisome movement given they opened only enough to reveal half of his black pupils.

With the last of his strength he took in her face. Her tears.

He grimaced.

“It is just as well I should not get to share all the names with you. They are not all so kind, if I’m honest, and I wish only to see you blush in these moments.”

“Do not leave me, Sasha.” Her voice near silent.

“I am sorry, Alina. I would not have banished you if I thought it would end like this.”

“I told you to stop.” She sniffed.

What was this all for without him? If it did not end with them together?

“Please, Alinochka. Give me a few kind words.”

She shook her head and moved closer. Her lips pressed to his temple where she spoke into his skin.

“You are mine and I am yours. We were together in the before and we will be together in the after. You will not get away from me for long, my Sasha.”

He hummed and smiled. “You make it sound so sweet. Like a vow.”

He sighed and her tears tracked in silent hot paths down her face. Her voice left her.

He spoke again. “An after would be something. If you are there, it would be fitting that I would follow.”

He heaved another breath.

“You, the brightest star. Me, your faithful shadow, forever trailing in your wake.”

His eyes did not open again.

The tether frayed entirely and her spirit was cast into an abyss.

______________________

He must really have died. A few moments at least.

She barely had time to draw breath before he was tugging her back. The tether stitched itself together in her presence and she scratched absently at her chest while she followed his body, surrounded by blurred shapes.

Hazy figured moved around him. Fedyor came into view as he touched his General, removing his cloak. Shock had frozen his features.

Ivan appeared, unlatching the buckles of the bloodied kefta.

Ivan his most loyal Grisha. His stoic expression was virtually inscrutable but even Alina could tell he was shaken.

She hung around all evening, keeping vigil as he slept.

Aleksander woke only briefly. Long enough to see her with him. It was nearly morning. She had not rested.

The Council would vote soon.

She squeezed his hand, kissing his forehead and his lips before she whispered, “I will be back, Sasha.”

__________________________

The Council was uncomfortable to see Alina waiting for them in the morning. Though Artur had invited her to review her points before the vote, he had clearly hoped she would not.

“I have an amendment to the proposal. One which I will insist upon if I am to vote in favor of the engagement.”

Tamar and Tolya looked battle ready, nodding at her to continue. Baghra narrowed her eyes but Alina did not care.

“I will go forward with the engagement on one condition. Zlatan must be killed before the marriage can take place.”

Artur opened his mouth to protest but Alina silenced him with a look.

“It will be enough for the people to simply see that we are a united front. We will announce our engagement throughout the West and allow people to see me as a worthy ruler. Marriage need not establish any rights for me.”

Artur still looked uneasy but Tamar and Tolya were already nodding.

“Very well. Zlatan will be dead before a wedding can occur. We can work with that, Sun Summoner.” Baghra looked around, “Shall we vote?”

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #politics #mutual pining #betrayal #eventual hea #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #plot twist

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purpleiri · 4 years

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Xu Mo: Ordinary Date Translation

许墨【平淡之约】

During the time Xu Mo was immersed in a new research project, our meetings have become scarce. I was incessantly torn between not wanting to disturb him at work and longing to see him. Finally, I came up with a solution to the problem...

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Please do not re-post my translations.

I’m not a professional translator. I do not claim that my translations are 100% accurate.

I hope that you’ll enjoy watching/reading the date! Text-only version under the cut.

When I reached the entrance of the research centre, Aming and the others were on their way out. They must have just pulled an all-nighter to finish their experiment, as the youths yawned loudly. Even so, they were chatting happily and exchanging banters back and forth.

Student A: “Let’s have soup dumplings at Sheng Ji, it’s near.”

Student B: “Since today’s a day off, we have a lot of time. Let’s go to Li Ji Restaurant, it’s only two stations away by subway anyway.”

Student C: “Is Professor Xu not coming with us again?”

Aming: “The Professor said that he’ll be busy with some other things.”

Student B: “Do any of you feel that although Professor Xu looks approachable, he also seems strangely detached? He never talks about himself, and he’s not close with any of the other teachers.”

Student A: “It feels like he’s very polite, but keeps everybody at arm’s length, isn’t it?”

Student C: “I feel it a little. There were a few times when I saw him standing alone by the window and wanted to go up to him and say hello, but at the same time I felt that he would feel bothered for sure.”

Student B: “Sometimes, it does feel as if we just can’t figure out what kind of person Professor Xu really is…”

I stopped in my tracks and hesitated for a while, but still went ahead to meet up with them.

MC: “Aming!”

Aming: “MC, are you looking for the Professor? He’s just finished being busy with work so he should be resting now.”

MC: “Yes, I brought all of you something to eat!”

I handed a paper bag filled with food over to Aming. He smiled as he accepted it and scratched his head a little awkwardly.

Aming: “The things we said just now, we didn’t mean anything by it…”

MC: “Don’t worry, I won’t tattle on you to your Professor Xu.”

I smiled, but it was clear in my mind—there was a time when even I have deeply felt Xu Mo’s indifference and elusiveness, so I did not blame others for thinking so. For the past month, for instance, ever since he has started working on some secret experiment, I have been seeing him less and our usual interactions with each other have decreased. I have tried asking him about it indirectly twice, but he always answered vaguely and digressed from the topic. I could not help but worry a little.

Student B: “May I ask, are you Professor Xu’s girlfriend? We didn’t mean to talk about the Professor, we just don’t understand him very well so we couldn’t help but discuss a little.”

He paused for a while and let out an embarrassed smile.

Student B: “It’s rare to see such an impressive and young professor, so it makes one really curious.”

Student A: “He’s not just impressive, he could already very well be included in a textbook!”

They continued talking, and the conversation turned into a discussion of Xu Mo’s most recent academic research. I could see on their faces their hopes for the future, as well as an overwhelming sense of accomplishment from being able to work on the project with Xu Mo.

MC: “Sometimes, he can get too immersed in his own world and may seem unsociable.”

“But don’t worry about him being difficult to get along with.”

I looked at them and couldn’t stop the corner of my lips from turning up into a smile.

MC: “He’s a really gentle person.”

“The most gentle person I have ever met.”

It was still early, and the research centre was much quieter than usual. I walked along the long corridor and arrived at the entrance of the lounge. The door was open; I quietly took two steps forward and saw Xu Mo deep in thought.

The window blinds were shut tightly. Entering through the gaps and infiltrating the room was a thin layer of sunlight, reflected on his calm and impassive eyes. It seemed that even the continuous drizzle of the wallpaper surrounding him lingered with a hint of coolness. The slightly bitter aroma of coffee permeated the air, and hot steam from the mug drifted little by little to the corner of Xu Mo’s thin lips.

Although he always wore a mild expression on his face, I felt that the darkness of the room was filled with an inexplicable silent melancholy. It was as if he had carved out this cold little space that was isolated from the world—isolated from the warm morning light outside the window, and isolated from himself.

I stared at his thin silhouette and could only feel how particularly lonely he was at this moment.

MC: “Xu Mo.”

I could not stop myself anymore and took a step forward, softly whispering his name. As if he had just suddenly woken up from some deep contemplation, he looked at me with a hint of surprise in his eyes. Almost at the very moment our eyes met, I could clearly see a smile light up in his nonchalant eyes.

Xu Mo: “Why didn’t you tell me in advance before coming over?”

Quickly, I walked over from the staircase to meet him, grinning as I held up the paper bag in my hand.

MC: “I brought you breakfast! There’s bread, egg tarts, palmiers, sandwiches…”

I opened up the paper bag and showed him how filled to the brim with food it was, prompting him to let out a small laugh.

Xu Mo: “It’s only breakfast, how can I eat this much?”

I placed the bag on the table and turned around to walk towards the window.

MC: “It’s precisely because it’s breakfast that you should eat more nutritiously.”

“If you can’t finish it then you can have the leftovers for tea, supper, or snacks. How do you get inspiration during work if you don’t eat some food?”

With a quiet “swoosh”, I drew open the blinds completely—a dazzling gleam of light spread inside, and the monotonous white walls of the room immediately took on a golden hue. The green plants on the windowsill seemed to have woken up from their deep sleep, slowly swaying their branches and leaves to the mild morning wind now blowing into the room.

Xu Mo: “Turns out that the weather today is really good.”

When I looked back, Xu Mo was already bathing in the mild sunlight. His entire body was enveloped in a soft warmth, and the corners of his lips were curved slightly upwards, revealing a quiet gentleness comparable to the first rays of light in the morning.

Xu Mo: “If it weren’t for the experiment, I would have gone out to take a walk with you. I wonder, at this time, if there are any more peach blossoms in bloom around the suburbs.”

He spoke as slowly walked towards me.

Xu Mo: “Didn’t you say that you’ve been busy with a new show recently?”

“Coming to see me so suddenly, did you come across some difficulty?”

I flashed him a knowing smile and took out my own notebook from my bag.

MC: “It’s just as I’ve said before, it’s about inviting a professor in logical studies to do an episode of the show…”

Before I could finish what I was saying, Xu Mo shook his head and sighed softly.

Xu Mo: “…sure enough, you didn’t come here specially to bring me breakfast.”

For a moment I was stunned, but I quickly denied it.

MC: “Of course I came here specially to bring you breakfast, it’s just a coincidence that I have a question that I needed your advice for.”

But after listening to me, not only did Xu Mo lightly furrow his brows, his voice also fell, as if he has just suffered some terrible injustice.

Xu Mo: “...so you brought me breakfast only because you needed my advice on something?”

“We haven't seen each other in such a long time, yet you don't miss me at all.”

MC: “…w-wait!”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not that I don’t miss you…”

At this moment, Xu Mo raised his eyes, which were twinkling with a hint of slyness. It was then I realised that I must have fallen into his trap once again. I looked at him and bit my lips with a huff. And yet, this man’s mood suddenly shifted happily as he came over to hold my hand with a smile.

Xu Mo: “Let’s have breakfast first.”

Under my “quiet” supervision, Xu Mo finished eating three egg tarts, two bread, and half a palmier before concluding this somewhat hearty breakfast. Although at the end he said that he really couldn’t eat anymore, there was still a happy smile on his lips.

Xu Mo: “Just spare me this round, Great Producer. I already know what I did wrong.”

“Now, I really know that you didn’t not miss me.”

He spoke slowly, dragging out the last part of his sentence as he took one last sip of coffee from his mug. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at the notebook in my hands. Before I had the time to think of a comeback to his words, he changed the topic.

Xu Mo: “Let me take a look at your question next.”

I really didn’t know what to do with him. I could only go along with his tempo; I opened up the notebook in my hands, spreading it on the table.

Xu Mo: “So this is the question that got you stuck.”

Xu Mo took a pen out of his pocket. Just as he was about to start writing, he looked over at me again.

Xu Mo: “Sitting opposite each other like this, it’s not so easy for me to write. Do you want to sit a bit closer?”

I nodded my head. I pulled my chair over and sat next to Xu Mo, shoulder to shoulder. Satisfied, Xu Mo smiled and wrote down the four letters “AEIO” on paper, forming a rectangle.

Xu Mo: “You can simply understand it this way: ‘A’ means complete affirmation, ‘E’ means complete negation, ‘I’ means partial affirmation, and ‘O’ means partial negation.”

“Among these, ‘A’ and ‘O’ have a contradictory relationship, just as ‘I’ and ‘E’ also have a contradictory relationship. Between them, there must be one that is true and one that is false. For example, taking what you said just now about how it’s not that you don’t miss me…”

“…it negates complete negation, which is to say that ‘E’ is false. In contrast, it confirms that ‘I’ is true, which is to say—you do miss me a little.”

“Is that right?”

The low voice that he used to slowly describe the concept flowed like sunlight. As I listened, I fell into a trance. The way the corners of his lips were raised subconsciously prompted me to smile along with him.

MC: “Right.”

A familiar light scent lingered between our breaths. I stared at his mesmerising eyes and only came to my senses much later. Xu Mo held my hands as an ambiguous smile appeared on his lips. His eyes narrowed slightly with the action, and he came closer.

Xu Mo: “Two days ago, I attended a lecture and happened to meet the Old Professor Xu that you invited as a guest on your show.”

“He was full of praises for you, saying that you and your team have already handed him the script two weeks ago. The questions on logical reasoning that he came up with, you managed to solve them all.”

“All these basic theoretical concepts have ceased to become a challenge for you much earlier on.”

“And yet you still came up with the excuse of having a question you needed my advice for…”

MC: “I…”

I avoided his stare guiltily, but still hesitantly hummed a soft “mhmm”. Xu Mo let out a helpless smile and sighed lightly. Raising his forefinger, he tapped me on the forehead gently.

Xu Mo: “Little liar, you only know how to bully me.”

Hurriedly, I tugged on the cuff of his white coat and softened my tone.

MC: “That’s why I said, I really came here specially to bring you breakfast.”

Xu Mo: “This isn’t the only thing I’m referring to.”

Xu Mo gazed into my eyes mysteriously, seemingly that no matter how I reacted afterwards, it would all be within his sight.

Xu Mo: “For the past two weeks, Aming often brings me supper; sometimes it's hot congee, other times it's vegetables and rice. He claims that it's takeaway, but the taste says otherwise.”

“The leaves of the spider plant on my balcony have long since turned yellow, and I haven't had the time to take care of it. However, when I glanced at it a few days ago, I found a new pot has long taken its place.”

“After returning to my office from the research centre early in the morning, I would sometimes find an extra cup of freshly-brewed tea.”

As he spoke, he showed an expression of serious contemplation, and his eyes revealed a faint puzzlement.

Xu Mo: “When did I start raising a little snail girl like you?”

He paused. Although it seemed like he still had some words left unsaid, he didn't continue speaking. Instead, he rubbed my hand with his fingertips, slowly, lightly, and very gently. I could feel the warmth from his fingertips, the slight, tingling itch resulting from his touch, and understood his momentary silence.

MC: “I should’ve known that I couldn’t keep this from you.”

I responded with a calm look. However, I suddenly remembered the little gift that I had prepared for him previously and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

MC: “But you still left out one thing.”

“I placed a humidifier on the corner of your coffee table—you didn’t notice it, did you?”

Xu Mo paused for a while and sighed softly.

Xu Mo: “How could I not notice? Moreover, the tea jar that I had already emptied out was filled with new tea leaves by a certain someone.”

“I even thought to myself, you must have gone out alone again to buy new tea leaves when I couldn’t take any time out.”

The light in Xu Mo’s eyes deepened. He leaned over and pressed his forehead against mine.

Xu Mo: “Did something happen recently?”

I shook my head subconsciously—after all, it really was nothing. He has his own things to be busy with, and he had promised me early on that we would go on a trip once his work has been dealt with.

However, during the times I couldn't hear footsteps coming from next door even after waiting all night, or when I picked up my phone only to remember that I shouldn’t bother him at work...

I really missed him.

Xu Mo's breath fell on my face, warm and a little moist—just like a light drizzle on a spring day, it felt as if one’s heartstrings were being gently caressed.

MC: “Truthfully… I miss you more than ‘just a little’.”

Xu Mo: “…me too.”

A week later, the new show entered the recording process as scheduled. It was fortunate that early preparations were done well, as the outcome exceeded expectations. Anna even felt that the show’s new season ratings could reach a new high, prompting me to prepare to treat everyone to dinner soon. I couldn’t wait to tell Xu Mo the good news and rushed over to the research centre as soon as work ended.

As I neared his office, I could hear Aming’s laughter coming from within.

Aming: “Professor, there is a secret that I’ve been keeping from you for a really long time. Let me tell you about it today! It has to do with MC…”

Upon hearing my own name, I lowered the hand that was reaching out to knock on the door, and discreetly looked into the office from behind the half-opened door.

Xu Mo and Aming sat facing each other, seemingly engaged in idle conversation. I had no idea what they were talking about that would prompt Aming to spill the beans so mysteriously.

Aming: “Actually, the suppers I have given you previously were all sent over by MC in secret.”

“One time it rained, and we all thought that she wouldn’t visit anymore. However, she still came and even brought all of us freshly-baked cakes and biscuits.”

“Also, there was once when she discovered that you’d finished drinking all your tea and refilled your jar with new tea leaves the very next day!”

As he spoke, he sighed deeply.

Aming: “It’s so nice having a girlfriend…”

All along Xu Mo had been listening quietly, but after hearing Aming sigh so deeply, he could not help but let out a laugh.

Xu Mo: “Why, are you jealous?”

I could not stop my hand from reaching out and knocked on the door lightly. Xu Mo smiled and stood up slowly.

Aming: “Professor, there’s someone looking for you, I should leave first.”

Just as I was about to push the door open and step inside, Aming pulled on the door knob. When our eyes met, he scratched his head awkwardly.

Aming: “MC, you’re here… I-I definitely did not tell the Professor your secret.”

“I still have a paper to write, I’ll be leaving first!”

I was just about to tell him that the Great Professor Xu had already discovered the secret earlier, but he slipped away and ran. I watched helplessly at his retreating back as he disappeared into the hallway. But before I could react, Xu Mo pulled me into the office with one hand.

Xu Mo: “Since you’re here at this time, has the recording ended? Did it go well?”

MC: “Mhmm, it just ended.”

“I don’t know what the outcome of the broadcast will be like. However, based on experience, it should go successfully… but how did you know that I came here to talk to you about this?”

Xu Mo: “Isn’t this our chemistry with each other? In the past, when you came to me like this, it was almost always to share good news with me.”

MC: “Then, how did your experiment go?”

The light in Xu Mo’s eyes shifted for a second, but there was a smile on his lips.

Xu Mo: “It failed.”

He let go of my hand and walked towards a filing cabinet, from which he took out a big stack of papers. On the cover, I saw the words “laboratory report” printed in bold. For a moment I was confused, unsure if he was just teasing me or telling the truth.

However, Xu Mo has already started putting the papers one by one into the paper shredder, and the quiet office was soon filled with the continuous buzzing sounds of the machine. Xu Mo saw the look of surprise and concern in my eyes, smile still on his face.

Xu Mo: “In a hundred experiments, it is indeed the success of the hundredth experiment that makes one happy. However, this does not mean that the previous ninety-nine failures are worthless.”

“It’s just like how you might encounter difficulties when you work on your shows; sometimes the ratings are poor, and sometimes the show’s reputation is not well-received. Similarly, my work often has such discouraging moments.”

“But it is fine, for failure is not important–knowing that you are on the wrong path is more important.”

Xu Mo looked at the thin sheets of paper in his hand, the smile in his eyes growing.

Xu Mo: “Hopefully, next time I would have good news to share with you too.”

MC: “But, after working so hard for such a long time just to not yield results…”

“If it were me, I would definitely be upset for quite some time.”

As the shredder swallowed the last page of the report, Xu Mo walked over in front of me and sighed lightly.

Xu Mo: “Indeed, no matter how small, the feeling of discontent is there.”

I thought about it for a while, and then offered Xu Mo an invitation.

MC: “How about we go out for a walk?”

“The weather today is great; we can take a stroll. Sometimes I just need to take in the sunlight for a bit and my mood becomes better.”

Xu Mo let out a laugh and agreed softly. With practised ease, he interlocked his fingers with mine, and led me out of the research centre.

As the weather became warmer, the streets were filled with more and more people. Despite it being a work day, the people passing us by were mostly in groups of three to five. Xu Mo held my hand tightly, as if worried that I would be separated from him in the crowd.

As we were walking, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, and advised me seriously.

Xu Mo: “In the future, don’t come out alone in the middle of the night.”

“You are not allowed to walk through the alleyways and take shortcuts, either.”

When he said the first sentence, I had wanted to crack a joke and make a silly face before simply agreeing to it. However, when he said “alleyways”, my entire heart jumped.

MC: “How did you know…”

The road back home from the research centre was a main road, and it has always been safe. There were many people walking on the road even at ten o’clock at night. There was one rainy day when I wanted to reach home quickly and took the alleyway as a shortcut.

Only once.

Xu Mo stood in front of me and placed a hand on my head.

Xu Mo: “How could I be at ease with you walking home alone at night?”

“However, if I had walked back home together with you, or simply spoke to you, I probably would not have been able to focus on my experiments.”

“That’s why, every time, I have always seen only you off downstairs, and waited until I could see your lights go on before turning around and going back to the research centre.”

“This way, I could also take a small break, slowly organising my thoughts on work for the day as I walk.”

MC: “……”

At the thought of him putting his work down, secretly following behind me just to protect me and see me home safely, and then waiting around downstairs until he could see my lights come on before walking back to the research centre under the night sky…

I suddenly felt bad inside.

My intention was to take care of him, but I did not expect that I would cause him this much trouble…

MC: “I’m sorry.”

Xu Mo shook his head and laughed gently.

Xu Mo: “Little fool, you don’t have to apologise, you didn’t give me any trouble.”

“The surprises that you gave me, I really liked them all. More than that, I could not help but look forward to them.”

“Looking forward to what kind of gifts you would bring me next time, and looking forward to the moment I could see you after a long, exhausting day of work…”

“This is the most interesting experience I’ve had in all these years of dry and routine life doing research.”

Xu Mo grabbed my hand and turned to look at the intersection.

Xu Mo: “Want to have some ice-cream?”

It was only then that I noticed a dessert shop selling ice-cream in front of us. I hesitated, but before I could speak, Xu Mo had spoken first.

Xu Mo: “I do want to eat it a little. Want to have it with me?”

I rarely saw this side of Xu Mo, so childlike and pure. I agreed immediately and jogged over to the dessert shop to buy two ice-cream cones.

MC: “Here, this ice-cream is my treat. Next time, I will surprise you in a more thoughtful way and not make you worry anymore.”

"This time's debt, let's just call it even!"

I handed one of the ice-cream cones to Xu Mo and then I could no longer resist tasting my own—the cooling sweetness melting at the tip of the tongue, the rich strawberry flavour giving one a sense of happiness.

At this very moment, Xu Mo bent over at the waist—

He leaned closer, pursed his lips slightly upwards, and, under my slightly dumbfounded gaze, gently licked the tip of the sweet cone in my hand.

The small ice-cream cone suddenly turned into a small mountain, separating two pairs of thin lips, yet not able to separate the sights we have of each other. In that moment, the boisterous and noisy crowd around us seemed like they have been put on pause. My heart was full, and I only had eyes for the pair right in front of mine, deep and vast like pools of water.

Xu Mo: “Mmm, it’s delicious.”

He straightened his back. In a good mood, the corner of his eyes curved into a smile, and at last he tasted the matcha-flavoured ice-cream cone in his hand. Even with a cunning smile in his eyes, the passing breeze seemed to have caught onto his aura, becoming a little gentler.

I could never figure out what to do with him…

MC: “Xu Mo, are you still going back to the research centre?”

Xu Mo: “The experiment is already over, so it’s time to go back and rest.”

MC: “What a coincidence, we’ll be going the same way!”

Lifting the corner of my lips, I reached my hand out towards him—

Xu Mo smiled gently, and held my hand without hesitation.

Xu Mo: "Mm, let's go home."

T/N: Little snail girl (田螺姑娘) is a character from a Chinese folklore of the same name. The story goes that a young farmer found an unusually big snail when he was out in the fields, so he decided to bring it home and take care of it. Since then, every time he came home from work, he would mysteriously find freshly-prepared dinner waiting for him. He later found out that the one who cooked for him was indeed the snail he brought home—and that she’s not just a snail after all, she’s a young and beautiful woman. They fell in love, got married, had children and lived happily ever after.

#mlqc lucien #xu mo #许墨 #my translation

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blancheludis · 4 years

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Tagging: @tokky231

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Bruce Barton, Steve Rogers Chapters: 28/?, Words: 157.786

Summary: Tony meets his soulmate under the worst possible circumstances. It is not just a kidnapping gone wrong. It turns out Steve and his gang picked him on purpose and they want some personal revenge. If only he had managed to say the words written on his soulmate’s arm before they threw him back out into the streets.

—

Rhodey insists that Tony take things easy, which means Tony is not allowed to work at all nor leave the tower for more than a walk through Central Park. Fresh air apparently does him good or something like that. The upside is that they get cheeseburgers on their way back to the tower, and despite the churning in his stomach at the thought of how that craving turned out the last time, they eat with great appetite.

That night, Tony slips Rhodey’s ever-watchful eyes and takes the elevator down to where the guest quarters are located. He should not barrage Bruce and Thor, but he feels like he needs to use the time they have left.

He knocks at the door and waits. It is not that late, but since Thor is wounded, it is entirely possible that they have already gone to bed. Muffled noise comes from inside, however, and a few moments later, the door is opened to reveal Thor. He is clad in comfortable clothing, sweatpants and a wide shirt, his hair is undone, sticking to one side of his head while being mussed up on the other.

“Tony,” Thor greets, sounding slightly surprised. That is not an ideal beginning to their conversation.

“Thor,” Tony smiles nonetheless, “I wanted to talk to you.”

A perfectly ominous start. Tony sounds more like he is going to confess there are several more powerful people after his head instead of inviting Thor to stay. His conversational skills only ever consisted of being confrontational or rambling uncontrolled.

“Come in, then,” Thor says and steps away from the door. “You are always welcome.”

These simple words make Tony feel lighter already. Few people have told him that. Mostly just Rhodey’s family.

He steps into the apartment. It is generous and tastefully decorated, with a sprawling view of the illuminated city at their feet. It also looks surprisingly lived in, considering that Thor has been here only for a short time and that Tony half-expected to find him in the middle of packing his things.

“Is Bruce not here?” Tony asks, peering into the open bedroom. If he spooked Bruce enough to make him leave the tower, his plans have already been foiled. He would have thought Bruce would not move from Thor’s side again.

Thor, who has closed the door and is walking over to the kitchenette, glances at Tony with faint traces of amusement on his face.

“He wants to avoid his team, but some things should not be left to fester,” he says, sounding strangely wistful like he, too, has waited too long to resolve some problems in the past. “I offered to accompany him, but he rightly thought it would not be wise for me to invade the Avengers’ territory.”

He takes two glasses out of a cupboard and fills them with water. A nod at the couch invites Tony to sit before Thor comes over himself.

“That would only give Barton more fodder to yell,” Tony muses.

When he thinks of Barton, he does not immediately see his angry grimace looming over him from that first anymore. Instead, Tony sees arrows tearing a man’s throat apart, and Barton’s grip on that bow as if he was born with it in hand.

Thor’s lips turn up, but the result is too grim to be a smile. “You are already familiar with their dynamics.”

It should not be a relief that the Avengers take to other people’s decisions and secrets as bad as they did to his. That they are mad that Bruce kept his personal matters private is terrible but sadly on par with what Tony knows about them.

The Avengers are a team. Perhaps that means that they have a common goal they will attempt to achieve together and that they trust each other as long as nobody steps a toe out of line. From what Tony has seen, however, that group is volatile, ready to collapse in on themselves. Perhaps they are loyal to each other, perhaps they even love each other like family, but that also means they know where to aim to hurt if things get ugly.

“They’ve argued about me before, yes.” Tony shrugs, aiming for a nonchalance that he knows Thor would not believe even if he could pull it off. “Well, I don’t need to tell you that you have a staunch defender in Bruce. He won’t let them run him over.”

For just a second, Thor’s smile turns honest, then he shakes his head. “It will still be difficult.”

Tony does not want Bruce’s life to be filled with new problems, especially not since he is indirectly responsible for it. At the same time, he cannot help but derive some satisfaction from the fact that the Avengers’ carefully constructed paradise is crumbling.

“Probably,” Tony admits, then leans forward a bit. “That’s one thing I wanted to talk to you about. Partly, at least. About where we go from here.”

Before him, he watches Thor’s expression settle into something bland and professional as if they are nothing but strangers.

“I see,” he says in a mild tone, better suited for commenting on the weather. “The danger is over, right?”

He thinks he is going to get fired. That is the most likely explanation to the sudden shift in mood – and also the one most easily fixed.

“I certainly hope so, but before you start packing your things, I want to offer you a permanent position here,” Tony says as quickly as he dares without sounding hurried. He is not here because he is desperate but because he does not want to lose any more people.

“Permanent?” Surprise is written all over Thor’s face. His posture, too, becomes immediately more approachable again. “For what?”

“Security,” Tony says without missing a beat. “I haven’t figured out all the details just yet because I won’t need you to follow me everywhere anymore, but I want you to stay.”

Happy will find something. He always complains about not having enough trustworthy people at his side. And smart people will always have a place at Stark Industries.

“Why?” Thor asks just like Bruce did. Even the tone of it is almost the same. Like they are curious but think they know what Tony is going to say.

“I trust you,” Tony replies. It is easier to be open about that with Thor since they have been shot at together and Tony is reasonably sure that Thor’s loyalties do not lie with the Avengers, just with Bruce. “That’s rare enough. I feel like we could be friends, and I don’t want you to disappear on me.”

He wonders whether he said too much. Friendship is quite a step up from hiring a bodyguard, and he does not know whether Thor thinks the same about him. He could just be a generally likeable guy who never meant to encourage Tony.

Before he can worry about that too much, Thor inclines his head. “I certainly consider you a friend, Tony,” he says, no trace of doubt in his voice. “I don’t know whether I can accept, however.”

Tony expected that and speaks up before disappointment can settle in his chest. “Because of Bruce,” he says. “I offered him a job too. A brilliant mind like his shouldn’t waste away in some secret basement.”

Thor appears surprised, which means that Bruce has not yet told him about Tony’s offer. That could be a bad sign. Despite his smiling manner, Bruce might have decided to not even consider staying, whether or not Tony could get rid of the giant wanted sign hanging over his head.

“That’s – you know that he is wanted by the military?” Thor asks. He, too, does not say anything about what he thinks of Tony’s offer.

“Of course,” Tony says like it is no big deal. Like he challenges high army officials every day. “But I can handle General Ross. I wouldn’t have offered this if it put Bruce in danger.”

Tony likes to think he is not as selfish as that. Then again, he kept pulling Rhodey into a never-ending number of shenanigans at college, no matter how it might affect their further educational career. And he keeps piling too much work on Pepper. So he is selfish, but perhaps not in a way that puts a friend’s life in danger.

“What does he say?” Thor asks, cementing Tony’s belief that Bruce gave him the opportunity to approach Thor first. That is not going to change their final answer, but it allows Tony to convince them that he is asking each of them for their own merit.

“Same as you,” Tony says simply. “He’s not going to live here while you return to DC, even if I got Ross off his back.” When Thor’s face remains questioning, he quickly adds, “And before you ask, I don’t just want you here to get Bruce. I am, in fact, glad that you are a package deal.”

Because Tony is pathetically lacking when it comes to having friends. Because he is afraid that, if he does not offer to pay Bruce and Thor, they will leave and never come back. Because it will only be a matter of time until Rhodey has to go and Tony will be all alone in his tower again.

He should not put so much on Thor’s answer as he does, but he has always been a fool in that way.

Thor nods, his expression understanding in a way that tells Tony he has been found out. “I will have to talk to him about it.”

Of course. Tony is not disappointed. He did not expect Thor to make an immediate decision, especially not since Bruce and he have apparently not talked it through yet. This is not a rejection.

“Take your time,” Tony says and means it. “I’m going to deal with Ross either way and you’ll have the entire world open to you. But you’ll always have a place here if you want it.”

He does not want them to think that his generosity is depending on whether they are going to stay. Bruce did some damage in that military lab. He hurt people. Tony does not know the entire story. He only knows who Bruce is now, and that person would not hurt anyone out of malice, not if there is any other way.

Nobody should pay their entire life for a mistake they made. Nobody should be forced to run endlessly. If Tony can change something about that he will, even if he will still never see Bruce or Thor again.

“Thank you, Tony,” Thor says, shaping the words like the precious thing they are.

Tony nods but says, “I have to thank you.”

It is a scary thought that Thor could have died on that parking lot. Died for him, too. Everybody might be thoroughly unimpressed with him for offering himself up to Obadiah’s men, but if he had the chance to save Thor’s life again, he would not hesitate to hand himself over a hundred times.

---

Bucky is deteriorating. There is no other word for it. He spends the days locked up in his room and the nights in the gym, walking the halls like a ghost. Considering that Steve cannot wait outside his room all day and since Bruce and Natasha have basically vanished too, Bucky can easily avoid all of them. Steve has tried several times to coax him out for meals, only to receive even more silence or some generic insult without any heat behind it. It hurts anyway.

Ever since they were children, it was always the two of them. No matter what they did, they did it together. With each passing hour, Bucky seems to be slipping more from Steve’s grasp.

Everything is unravelling. Now that Stane is dead and Tony is safe, things were supposed to return to normal. They are a team so they should act like it. Instead, Natasha has left shortly after their argument with Bruce and, to Steve’s knowledge, never returned to the base. Bruce spends most of his time with Thor, which should not be surprising but leaves them to deal with his glaringly obvious absence.

The only ones who have not lost their minds are Clint and Steve. In a way, Clint is quieter than ever before, which does not bode well for them either. All this fighting each other is wearing Steve down.

Steve does not bother to turn on the lights in the hall as he walks over to Bucky’s door. Like this, he can pretend he is just passing by instead of staring at the dark wood as if his eyes are capable of burning a hole into it, big enough for him to enter. He could try the handle, of course, but the closed door is too much of an obstacle already. If it is locked too, he is not sure he could deal with it.

Walking down the hall with measured steps, Steve could almost pretend it is already night time and everybody but him is asleep. It does not quite work. Especially since someone has always been up over the past weeks.

It is too quiet. No sounds of clinking glasses or muttering come from Bruce’s lab. Nobody is making a late-night tea in the kitchen. No muffled laughter is audible from the living room. Before, it was impossible to be alone here, and yet, Steve feels like he is the only person left on earth.

Movement catches his eyes. When he looks up, he finds Clint stepping out of his room. He stares at Steve, his face unreadable. Then he jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen and walks off. Steve is not sure whether that was an invitation for him to follow, but the sight of the closed door in front of him is nauseating enough to make him want to flee.

In the kitchen, he finds Clint in the process of putting a kettle on the stove with one hand while turning the coffee machine on with the other. That means he expects at least one of them not to go to bed tonight. The question is answered a moment later when he fishes a teabag out of Bruce’s bottomless stock and puts it in a big mug that he places in front of Steve’s usual place.

Steve would rather take the coffee, but he sits down nonetheless. Sleep will elude him anyway. He barely knows anymore how it feels to sleep through an entire night. While the apparent danger is over now, he is just too restless to keep lying down.

He watches as Clint pours his coffee and then turns to wait for the kettle to whistle. They do not talk. That still feels like a positive development compared to all the arguing of the past weeks.

Once Clint is seated too, they both curl their hands around their mugs, staring at the steam rising into the air with exaggerated care, all to avoid looking at each other. Or Steve is doing that. When he chances a glance, he finds Clint’s eyes on him, inescapable now that he noticed.

“He needs to get out of here,” Clint then says into the sullen silence without preamble. One moment he is busy staring, the next he talks as if he is picking up an old conversation.

No clarification is needed for who he is. Bruce is doing a good enough job of removing himself, and Bucky is the only other he who is currently unravelling in their base.

A part of Steve – too big for him to be comfortable with it – knows that Clint is right. The entire trick of getting Bucky out of the downward spiral of depression and PTSD after the war was to give him something else to concentrate on, to get him out of his own head. Back then, the Avengers were the solution. Right now, they are part of the problem.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t take your advice on anybody’s mental health,” Steve says nonetheless.

He has been Bucky’s best friend and occasional keeper for most of their lives. Clint’s views of family are skewed, a product of growing up without any stability at all.

For once, Clint does not appear ready to fall into an argument, however. “I’m as much of an expert as you are.” He shrugs and picks up his mug, blowing away the steam.

This version of Clint is strange to deal with. Usually, Clint can be trusted to either fight or joke. That shallowness might be largely an act, but introspection is not something he usually bothers to show.

Steve purses his lips and keeps his eyes on Clint. “You yell so long at a problem until nobody bothers with you anymore or someone snaps and attacks you.”

That would usually be enough to trigger Clint, but now he simply leans back in his chair, mouth curled into the beginning of a smile. “That method has served me well until now.”

“Has it?” Steve counters immediately despite knowing the answer.

The life they lead benefits from keeping people at arm’s length. Some do it with pretty lies, others with abrasiveness. Honesty and emotional openness are a currency hard to come by amongst them. The Avengers were supposed to be different, at least between the team members, but hard-learned habits are seldom forgotten that easily.

“I don’t like change,” Clint says, still utterly serious. “I don’t like other people deciding things based on emotions because I do that, and look how often that turns everything to shit. I’m usually the last off the sinking ship. But this isn’t working anymore.”

The words hit Steve like a punch. They are having some problems, but they have overcome those before. Everybody is talking like they have reached the end. Like this is it. He is not going to let that happen. Steve has not built many things in his life, but this is something he always took pride in.

“We’ve had some difficulties but we’re still a team,” Steve says, wincing at the urgency in his tone. “Bucky needs to –”

“Clear his head,” Clint cuts him off easily. He raises his eyebrows, daring Steve to argue. “And he won’t be able to do that here. We’re all a mess, Steve.”

That is no reason to give up. They have to sit down and make this right. Bruce is not going to leave. Bucky and Natasha will find a new way to live with each other. Steve will not leave them all hanging.

“We’ve always been like this,” Steve says, knowing that is not something to be proud of. They took their flaws and turned them into strength, creating a team that is more than just their jagged pieces. “We had a bad few weeks but we can get back to normal now.”

Clint does not smile and nod. He does not agree and promise everything will be all right. Instead, he looks at Steve with searing pity in his eyes.

“What is normal?” he asks, saying the world like it is something dirty. “Us immersing ourselves in other people’s problems so we don’t have to deal with our own? Bruce keeping his soulmate from us because he doesn’t trust us with that information?”

This is not the Clint Steve knows. Their Clint never thinks before throwing himself headfirst into whatever shenanigans he can find. Their Clint does not worry about tomorrow. Their Clint does not mind forging through the nastier parts of life, letting himself be baited by the vague promise of being at least entertained on the way.

If even Clint is pulling away, things really are worse than Steve thought. The entire matter of finding his soulmate distracted Steve so much that he does not know what is going on with his own team anymore. He should be better than this. He should care more and fight more. The Avengers were founded so they could escape their personal demons. Perhaps it is true that they cannot run forever.

Steve lets go of his mug and puts his hands flat on the table, staring at the wood. “Bruce trusts us,” he says. He might not be ready to admit that Clint is on to something here, but no matter what else is happening, he fully believes that they still trust each other. They just do not like each other very much at the moment.

“Well, then he wants something nice and safe just for him without giving us a chance to interfere.” Clint shrugs. It is impossible to say whether he is still angry about that. Despite his usual impulsiveness, Clint does know to hide his thoughts. “That proves my point quite nicely too.”

“And what is that point?” Steve asks, his voice slightly raised. As soon as that registers, his shoulders slump. The sudden irritation is not gone, but he is painfully aware of it, almost ashamed. “That we should pack our things and go our different ways? That one mistake is enough to ruin everything we built?”

Clint watches him like Steve would imagine he does when he is following a target through the scope of a rifle. Impassionate, as if he is only mildly interested in what Steve has to say for himself.

“Is this all you ever want to be?” he asks. It does not sound like an accusation, not like he thinks they have not done enough. Still, Steve feels like he does not measure up. “Solving other people’s problems. What about living your life? What about Stark?”

Tony’s name out of Clint’s mouth has Steve’s hackles rising immediately, despite the neutrality of it. Compared to the beginning of this, when they would curse Tony and his company, things have changed immensely. Even Clint came home after that warehouse fight with a grudging respect for Tony.

“What does it matter to you?” Steve snaps. Changed opinion or not, he doubts there will ever be anything more than reluctant tolerance between them. “You don’t like him.”

“So what?” Clint’s expression softens as he looks at Steve, making him appear almost sad. “I care for you.”

Shame courses through Steve like a tidal wave of boiling water, pushing blood into his cheeks. Between the two of them, it is now him who is looking for a fight. He likes to blame Clint for exploding over every little matter, but he has always liked to solve his problems with his fists. An apology is sitting on his lips when Clint continues.

“I just don’t see our endgame here,” he says, still sounding sad rather than blaming Steve for anything. “We’re doing good work, but the moment it gets personal for any of us, we all balk. Life has to be more than that.”

It should be. Steve always thought they might be the exception to that rule and they now need to make the best of that. All of them seemed to have accepted the same, meaning they were doing the best with what they were given.

Only now it is obvious that was wrong. It is always possible to do better. To be better. That just takes more courage than Steve believed he has.

“So you’re leaving?” Steve asks, voice catching in his throat. “Is that what you’re saying? You’ve yelled at me every opportunity you got for getting too involved with Tony’s case, and at Bruce for daring to have a personal life. And now you’ve changed your mind and want to tell me to just give up?”

He can see it happening, all of them leaving for brighter shores. At first, they might just accept solo missions and stay away for days or weeks at a time. Then they will simply vanish, leaving Steve at square one with just Bucky at his side and no idea how to conquer life.

Clint raises his mug to his lips and downs half of the coffee in one go. Then he smiles at Steve, a wistful thing if a little sharp at the edges.

“You know, I loved the acrobatic tricks in the circus,” Clint says, seemingly changing the topic without warning. “I sat for hours and watched them swing through the air. I tried it, too, a hundred times, but I can’t do it. I either jump too soon or cling to the bar for too long.” He shrugs, lips curling down. “I don’t care much for metaphors, but I do believe we’re having a chance to make the jump if we let go right now.”

Steve’s first instinct is to get up and leave. He does not need to listen to Clint talk about what could easily be called defection. They stick together no matter what fate throws at them. That was the plan, at least.

He stays seated, no matter that it takes effort. Perhaps Clint is right. Perhaps they are so used to running that they have forgotten how to fight.

“Where to, Clint?” Steve asks, sounding tired more than confrontational. He would give a lot for some proper answers right now. “And what do you want to tell the rest of the team in DC? Hey, we ran in some problems and now we’re giving up. Have a nice rest of your life.”

With a sigh, Clint takes another sip of his coffee, looking disappointed. “That’s always your problem, Steve,” he says. Again, there is not a hint of confrontation in his tone. “Going on does not mean giving up. Just, for once in your life, think something through.”

Clint gets to his feet and carries his mug to the sink, draining it as he walks. Their conversation appears to be over, although Steve is still as lost as when he sat down. Maybe more so.

“That’s funny, coming from you,” Steve says, pushing because he wants to get a reaction from Clint, anything but this neutrality.

Turning around, Clint flashes a grin that is as wide as it is fake. “I never claimed to be a brain person.”

With that he walks towards the door, obviously ready to leave Steve alone, forcing him to search his own way.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks, wincing at the urgency in his own voice.

It is already happening. Everybody is leaving, and he does not know what to do then. Already, the gaping emptiness of the base is pushing the walls towards Steve.

“Looking for Nat,” Clint says, stopping briefly inside the door. His expression is mildly chiding. Where else is he supposed to do but to find his best friend?

As far as Steve knows, Natasha has not been home in days, since that conversation with Bruce. “You know where she is?”

“Nope.” Clint sounds unconcerned as if the whole wide world is not big enough for Natasha to stay out of his sight. “But we always find each other,”

Steve wishes he had that same confidence.

He remains sitting at the table for a few minutes longer, sipping his tea while he tries to make sense of what is happening. Everybody is so eager to leave, while Steve has spent most of his life holding on to things.

He does not know where to go or how to get somewhere life does not hurt so much. As he sees it, he has two options, although he hopes they are not mutually exclusive.

Either he keeps the team together – they could go back to DC in the morning and bring some distance between themselves and this mess – or he could stay and sort things out with Tony first.

Tony told him several times to leave and only one time to stay, twice if he were to call the night after the attack when Tony was clinging to the nearest warm body. They have talked once and Steve basically promised to stay in New York for a while longer to give them room to work this out. If he were to leave now, even just to take care of his team, he fears that would ruin his chances with Tony. He might not exactly know what he wants, but he cannot risk making things worse with Tony.

What he really has to decide is whether everybody else is telling the truth and it might be time to make a new way for themselves.

Allowing himself a sigh, Steve gets to his feet. He needs to get Bucky out of his room. Whatever else happens, they are a family and they do not leave each other hanging. He turns on the light, blinking against the brightness, and walks over to Bucky’s door. Even without testing, he is now sure that it is locked, but he sees that as something that is easier to overcome than Bucky’s stubbornness.

Steve knocks twice and leaves his hand sprawled against the door afterwards, not pushing, but it allows him to feel closer to his best friend.

“Hey, Buck, it’s me again,” Steve calls, keeping his tone light as if he does not have to brace for disappointment. “Ready to come out yet? It’s only us for now. Everybody else has gone out.”

For a long moment, he is convinced that Bucky will not answer at all. They have gone through that before, that Bucky stopped speaking, too caught in the endless fight inside his mind.

Then, muffled, Steve hears, “Great, exactly what I need.”

That is not meant as an insult, or so Steve tells himself. Bucky is trying to hide from the world while Steve wants to bring him back into it. A simple difference in objectives. It still hurts, knowing that Bucky is currently somewhere Steve cannot reach him.

“I’m trying to help,” Steve says, even though that will not change a thing.

A scoff sounds through the closed door. “Well, you’re not.”

Exhaustion pulls at Steve’s body. He has been on edge for weeks. Things were supposed to calm down now. Instead, he stumbled from one fight right into the next, and while he won this one before, he is clueless about how to do it again.

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” Steve says, not bothering to hide the plea in his voice.

Steps come closer, filling Steve with a hope that Bucky is going to open the door. Nothing happens.

“How about leaving me alone?” Bucky asks. His voice sounds much closer now as if he is standing right on the other side of the thin wood. “I don’t need you to hold my hand or give me loads of stupid advice. I’m fine.”

“You’re not –” The urge to just blaze into the room and corner Bucky until he is willing to listen grows stronger than ever. Instead, Steve lets his hand fall, stomping down on the disappointed helplessness rising inside him. “All right. I’ll be in the kitchen if you want some dinner.”

This does not mean he is giving up. If Bucky needs space, Steve will give it to him. He is used to pushing into places where he is not wanted, so it might be time to change that, even if it makes him feel like he is abandoning his best friend.

“I’m not hungry,” Bucky all but growls from inside the safety of his room. It sounds like a challenge. Steve can do those too.

His mouth opens before he is quite sure what he is going to say. When the words come out, though, he is certain they are the right ones. “Clint has just left the base. He’s looking for Natasha.”

Silence falls for several long seconds. All attempts to talk about Natasha or their possible connection has led to shouting or Steve being stonewalled. Nothing has changed, except perhaps for Steve’s determination.

“And why would I care about that?” Bucky asks. Even with the door between them, Steve knows Bucky is glaring at him.

The answer, for once, is simple. “He has the best chances of finding her and the two of you need to talk.”

Clint is good at staying out of sight, but Bucky is better at following people unnoticed. If Natasha is not coming home, they will have to get Bucky to her. If things do not work out, that is an answer in itself. This waiting is what hurts them the most. The hiding and the doubts, the constant drawing up of new walls.

“Go away,” Bucky says, muffled worse than before.

Steve wonders what he is doing. Hiding his face or turning away from the door or crying. It is not his place to find out, even though his hand itches to reach for the handle.

“Tell her to come home,” Steve says instead, making it sound just short of an order. He needs them to know that, no matter what is happening, this is still home. They are still a family. He does not want to believe in the Avengers falling apart, but they are more than that, more than just a group of vigilantes flocking to a nice name. They are not going to lose that.

Steve does not wait for an answer from Bucky. He knows Bucky will not come out as long as he is still lurking in front of the door, and he is done making things harder than necessary on other people.

He walks the short stretch of the hall to his own room and closes the door behind him with a loud enough thud that Bucky should know that he is free to go. It does not feel good, that careful avoidance, but if that is what is needed, Steve is willing to put up with the discomfort, the feeling of letting his best friend down.

He should probably go to bed. His entire body feels heavier than it should. His mind, on the other hand, is wide awake, unable to stop marching forward, sniffing out all the ways his life is going wrong.

With nary a glance at his bed, Steve goes over to his desk. He has not yet cleared it from the evidence and research concerning Stane, has not had the energy to throw it out while the entire emotional part of that mess is not yet resolved.

He sits and, not giving himself more time to think, pulls a piece of paper closer while picking up a pencil with the other hand. He is not getting anywhere by thinking things through endlessly. Drawing always helps with clearing his mind. He is afraid this time will be an exception but he has to try nonetheless. If nothing else, he can concentrate for a few hours on something he is actually good at. That will be a nice reprieve in itself.

#stony #soulmates #mob boss #fanfiction #marvel #slow burn #hurt/comfort #clint is introspective #bucky is not doing good #the avengers are crumbling #but tony is doing better #my writing #ao3 #leave the gun on the table

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brieannakeogh · 5 years

Text

Dog Days of Summer- Ch 6

Dog Days of Summer- Chris Evans X plus sized reader. Dog days of summer are usually defined as the hottest of the year, some define it as lazy days. This year ‘hottest’ has nothing to do with the outside temp. You meet Chris and Dodger Evans while taking your own dog to the park.

Previous Chapter / Master List

Warnings: Cursing and fluff, mild angst

It was about 10pm when your phone dinged. You had already changed into pjs when he left your apartment, and had just finished brushing your teeth when it went off.

“Tonight was fun. Thank you for cooking and having me over for dinner. I was thinking maybe we could take the dogs back to the park tomorrow. It’s been a few days since we saw our friend Ron.”

“It was a very pleasant evening. I had three very handsome good boys in my apartment all night. My neighbors are all going to be jealous. The park sounds great and I think Ron has been very happy we’ve stayed away. Also thanking you for shopping with me. If I had known dinner was going to be a regular thing, I would have included you in more meal planning. We’re going to have to go again soon since it won’t stretch as long with the two of us.”

“I hope you don’t feel obligated, we don’t have to do that. I can also pay for half the groceries too.”

You didn’t see it as an obligation at all, just another way to spend time with him. The fact that he seemed a little insecure himself, endeared him to you even more.

“I actually really like the idea and don’t worry about the money. I’ll get it out of you in slave labor, for toting all those bags, and in gas for using your car.” You were now properly in bed, Popcorn laying at your feet, with the light off.

“Lol, fair enough. I’ve got a few reps I need to do before I hit the sack, if I’m going to hold all the grocery bags.”

“You’re going to work out this late at night? I’m already in bed, lights off, ready for sleep.” You can’t say he wasn’t dedicated.

“I could counter it’s a little early to be going to bed. Let me guess you wear feety pajamas to bed?”

Was he indirectly asking what you were wearing? Your thoughts went directly into dirty territory, but you were trying to fight it. “Don’t say it, don’t say it.” You mumbled to yourself as you typed in a reply. Of course you don’t listen to yourself and text him back with a flirty response.

“Feety pjs are good for lounging, but I don’t like to be restricted when I sleep. Clothing tangles too much when I toss and turn.” Which was true, nude sleeping was always the best. “I had planned to read for a bit before going to sleep as well. I need to...let’s say, relax, after that kiss.” Your eyes widened and you bolted upright after you reread what you sent. While you were a much better and braver flirt over text and chat than you ever were in real life, your heart pounded wondering if you had gone too far, especially after he took longer to respond. Almost two minutes had passed before you see the three little dots from where he was typing again.

“I see a cold shower in my future. Probably multiple this week.” You sigh in relief and lay back down slowly. “I’ll let you go...relax and if you ever need help with that, you have my number. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.” You reply simply ignoring his offer of help comment, tempted to text him back right then, but you knew it wasn’t the time. He had you so worked up, that it didn’t take long for you to be able to cum and relaxed enough to sleep. Your dreams full of blue eyes and a ruddy brown beard.

The next morning you expected to wake up groggy, but giddy excitement from everything that happened yesterday still flowed through your veins. So much for taking it slow.

Your phone already had a message from Chris, telling you a time to meet him at the park and then after you hadn’t responded, teasing you for sleeping in so late. Rolling your eyes as it’s still before 11am, you shoot him a quick text back confirming the time.

Getting yourself and Popcorn ready for the day you head out in time to meet Chris at the dog park. You see him sitting on what you have dubbed in your head as ‘our’ bench and walk over to him. He’s gone casual in his backwards baseball cap, sunglasses and sweatpants. The hoodie he’s wearing looks super soft too. Spotting you as you get nearer, he goes to stand, but you wave him back down as you unhook Popcorn and sit beside him, leaning into his side.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He answers back.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You smirk. “Where’s the pupper? I was expecting kisses.”

“He’s found another playmate.” Chris points to the other side of the park where Dodger is chasing a black and tan dog around playfully. “But I can volunteer my services for kisses if ya like. Guaranteed less slobber.” He smiles, eyebrow arched.

You’re surprised and look around at the other people in the park. “I mean, I don’t mind but don’t you worry someone will…” He cuts you off with a quick chase kiss to the mouth, forehead and cheek.

“See no one noticed, and even if they did fuck ‘em.” He tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and you find you are quite content to just lay your head back into his arm and watch the dogs play. Well dog play, because like usual Popcorn is lying near the bench asleep.

The two of you fall into small talk. Typical things like the weather and the show you had watched the night before, which quickly turns into politics and heavier topics somehow. Chris is pleasantly surprised you share a lot of his views and the ones where you differ are not deal breakers for either of you.

You love watching the passion in his eyes as he talks about the different subjects, much more so then when the topics were light and fluffy. He was ranting about climate change and Biff when you couldn’t help but to let out a giggle.

“What?” He asks with a soft smile.

“Nothing, I just really like this. I’ve just never gotten into this heavy of a conversation after, what? This is technically our second date right? Does yesterday count as a date since it morphed halfway through?”

“I would qualify it as a second date. You knew my intention when you invited me over for dinner, plus you changed and straightened up.”

“Caught that did you?”

“Again, were you trying to be subtle?” You laugh and shake your head. “Also isn’t it better to go ahead and get deal breakers out of the way. I mean we aren’t getting any younger and it would suck if we liked each other a lot and than hit a wall.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“Let’s see….of course you would have to be ok with the actor, famous thing. I won’t want to go officially public until I’m sure. I don’t want to share my private life in front of an audience.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me. The red carpet seems stressful.” He smirks a little at that.

“Also permanent residence here in Boston, and kids. I’ll want those.”

You nod at the Boston, but pause at the kids. This you were iffy on. “I don’t want kids right now, but maybe if I find the right guy, in a few years.” You look up to him and he doesn’t seem bothered by that.

“That’s understandable. You want a little time as a couple before kids.” You nod at him. “Must love dogs and Disney.” Which you roll your eyes at. He’s seen your Disney collection and the dogs are why you are there in the first place. “What about you?”

“Hmmm well, the away on set all the time will be hard, but I’ve dated workaholics before. Can people visit?”

“Depends and sometimes I don’t have a lot of free time when filming.”

“I think it’s manageable. I’m pretty flexible, just the obvious things. Ya know like cheating.” He nudged you in the side to be more serious. “I don’t know, I can’t think of any. I mostly just don’t want to be treated like shit and taken for granted. Which is why the long away periods worries me. Not about you but that my insecurities will fester and tell me why the hell would you want to date me? Then you don’t answer a text and I’ll freak out which will make you mad and upset because you didn’t do anything wrong, you were just working.” Saying all of that quickly in in one breath, you huffed out and relaxed your shoulders.

“Wow, that got real, and dark.”

You roll towards him, putting an arm around his waist and your forehead on his chest. “I warned you I was crazy.” He snort laughs. “No, I’m just thinking extremes. It’ll probably be fine.”

Chris’s hand rubs circles on your lower back. “You know I have to make out with people and pretend to have sex too right?” His voice is very serious like that’s been a problem in the past.

You sit up and look at him in the eye. “Uhhh I’ve watched your movies before...I know how acting works.” The confusion in your voice evident.

“It’s just been a problem in the past when I’ve dated someone not in the industry.”

“That won’t be a problem. It’s a job you’re working, that doesn’t count as cheating and I’m not the jealous type. Honestly, how do you think my ex-fiance got away with it so long? I knew it was just him and his secretary at work all night alone together but I believed him when he said he was working. I’m stupidly trusting.”

“Optimistic is what you are.”

“Optimistic huh? I like that. So no deal breakers found. Does that mean we can go eat lunch, I’m starving.”

He chuckles and calls Dodger back. At the little dog friendly bistro the hostess asks how many, which Chris confirms two, but you interrupt asking if Ron is working.

“What are you doing?” Chris whispers in your ear and you wave him off.

“It looks like he is and he has a table open on the patio if you prefer to be seated in his section?”

An evil grin comes on your face as you tell her “That would be lovely.” Chris shaking his head at you the whole time.

The hostess seats you with a couple of menus and Chris just keeps looking at you with a “I can’t believe you are doing this again.” look on his face as he tries to keep from laughing.

You watch as Ron steps up to your table, not really looking at either of you, as he goes into his spiel on welcoming to the restaurant and what specials there are.

He looks up with a polite smile on his face and you see the look die in his eyes as he recognizes the two of you, unconsciously taking a step back. Chris is hiding his face in his menu, but you can see the shaking of his shoulders.

“Hiya Ron! Long time no see. How’s life been treating ya?” The excitement in your voice breaks an audible snicker from Chris.

“Just fine ma’am. What can I get you to drink?” Ron is trying to be as professional as possible and you have to admire him for that.

“I think waters all around?” You look to Chris who nods, not able to say anything. “Don’t forget thing one and thing two.” You point to the dogs.

Ron grips his pen a little tighter. “It was separate checks correct?”

You look him right in the eye without blinking. “No Ron, not anymore.” And you smirk.

Ron huffs out an irritated sigh and turns on his heel to leave.

Laughter from across the table makes you break into a fit of your own giggles.

“Was that why you wanted Ron’s section?”

“He looked down his nose at me last time, so I wanted show him he shouldn’t judge people. I know it’s a little on the petty side but just let me have my fun.”

“Hey you have as much fun as you want, but you’re paying for the tip. I’m not going to be trying to judge how much extra to give based on how much of an annoyance you were to him. We’re still in the ‘everything is endearing and cute’ stage.”

“So ‘everything is endearing and cute’, you say? I don’t think I’ve heard of that stage. Can you give me an example, use it in a sentence?”

A sly smile forms on his face that has you worried. “For example, that cute little screech you do when I leave.”

Your face heats up instantly. “You heard that huh?”

“The whole floor heard it, but it was cute.”

“Aww you think I’m cute?” Ron stops by the table to drop off water. “Ron did you hear that? He thinks I’m cute.”

“That you were acting cute.” Chris corrected.

“Ron we’ve known each other a while now. Do you think I act cute or just am cute?”

Ron blinks down at you and turns his head to Chris. “Sir sincerely good luck to you and you have my deepest sympathies.” He turns on his heel and walks away from the table without looking back at you.

“Wait? Was that a joke? Did Ron actually make a joke?” You asked Chris excitedly.

“I’m am now certain you have broken Ron.” Chris nods solemnly.

You both crack up at that and then actually read the menu instead of pointing at something random. Leaving Ron alone for the rest of lunch, you still provide him with generous tip at at the end and you think you see a smirk when he comes to pick it up.

The short walk back to your apartment is nice. Conversation flows naturally and you don’t feel as if you need to fill up all the space with talking. The awkwardness you use to feel having the gorgeous man keep pace beside you has all but dissipated. You still find it strange, but his presence puts you at ease. You’re starting to think that maybe this could work, although you didn’t know for sure until you had to go months apart. That was the real test.

The two of you step out of the elevator and into the hall, the dogs in tow. Another plan of watching tv to pass the time before dinner was already in the works. Chris wanted to finish the show you were watching and you were happy to oblige.

Sticking the key in the lock, it turns but without the telltale click when it unlocks. Your brow furrows and you pause with your hand on the doorknob.

“Everything alright?” Chris asks from behind you.

“The door wasn’t locked. I could have sworn I locked it when I left.” His face mimics yours with a frown.

“Step back and take the dogs. Let me go in first just to check.” You really want to argue but you’re scared and he gives you hard look when he hands you the leashes to not argue. He tries to be quiet as he slowly opens the door. You can’t help but to try to peek in around him but his wide shoulders don’t leave much room around the doorway. After he steps inside, he pulls the door to but not completely shut, keeping you on the other side in the hallway.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You hear someone who is definitely not Chris, shout from the apartment. You knew that voice, you had fucked that voice. No longer sitting on the sidelines you barged in and see Matt standing in the living room, arms crossed like he had just caught an intruder.

“I could ask the same buddy.” Chris responded with very similar pose, although with a couple more inches, height and width, on Matt. Chris was much more intimidating.

“Chris it’s fine.” You come up behind him with a hand to his lower back, and he looks down at you confused. “Well it’s not fine but I’ll handle it.” You shove the leashes into his hands as you move between them. “Chris this is my asshole Matt. Asshole this is Chris.” Chris’ eyes flash with recognition and he takes a look at the ex-fiance, judging him on all levels. “Now that we are all caught up, what the fuck Matt? You can’t just let yourself in. You don’t live here anymore and you said you gave me all your keys.”

“I’m still paying for the place. I can stop by if I want to.”

“No, no you can’t, that was the agreement. You moved out and moved in with your side bitch, and as an apology for making me quit my job and move to Boston, you paid rent up for this place until I could find a job.” You were so angry, you were boiling. You didn’t shout, your voice just got cold and deeper as your rage rolled off of you. Matt had never been smart about telling your moods and today was no exception. Chris on the other hand, stepped a little closer, towering at your back to add even more menace to your words, or possible hold you back when you launched yourself at him. It was hard to tell.

Matt scoffs. “Don’t give me that. Who’s this fucker? You’re telling me you weren’t fucking him on the side while we were together?”

“That’s exactly what I’m say, not that you have any right to know. What are you even doing here Matt?” You were suddenly tired and just ready to get this man out of your apartment so you could settle on the couch with Chris. Matt’s eyes shift from you to Chris and then glance at the bedroom. “Oh my god! You can’t be serious!” This you did shout. “You wanted to stay here? Did she kick you out already?” Matt at least had the decency to look ashamed this time, before he went into begging mode.

“Come on Marshmallow, we had good times right? It’s been miserable without you.” Chris’s hand on your shoulder tightened when your ex tried to win you back with nonsense. The audacity he had to pull this stunt in front of who was obviously your new boyfriend, and much bigger than he is, was ludicrous. Uncrossing your arms from your chest, you place a hand over Chris’s to give him a bit of comfort, not that he even needed it. He knew how you felt about the man in front of you, that was digging himself deeper with each word he spoke.

“Matt, please leave. You cheated on me, we’re done.” You cut him off as he was telling you what a ‘big mistake he made was’, but you couldn’t care less. It was very simple to you. “Hand Chris your keys on the way out, he needs one anyway. This will save us a trip.”

The nice guy act that Matt had been putting on melted in front of you. “You can’t honestly fucking expect me to believe you’re dating this guy?! He’s probably just the dog walker. You couldn’t get someone like this to fuck you unless you were paying them. That’s exactly what you’re doing isn’t it! Yeah you had to get yourself a fucking escort since nobody would touch you!” Matt sneers at you.

Chris was right to have come up closer, because you did in fact attempt to launch yourself at him, more in his defense than your own. Even with his muscles he had a hard time containing you, especially when you threw your weight into it. What got you to calm down was Chris’s loud booming voice calling your name. It sounded just like Captain America was disappointed in you.

“Ok, I’m done staying out of it. Matt or whatever the fuck your name is, hand over the keys. If I ever find out that you were in my girlfriend’s house again, without her permission, I will have a reason to use the myriad of lawyers I keep on retainer.” He turns to you and hands you the leashes to the dogs, who are both looking scared after being witness to the fight. “Take the dogs into your bedroom and calm them down, while I escort him out and down to the lobby.” He runs a finger over your cheek and you realize a stray tear had run down. All you can do is nod and you go around to the back of the apartment to the bedroom. You can hear some muffled talking before the front door closes again.

“Shhh, it’s ok guys, it’s all over now.” Kneeling on the floor you pick up Popcorn and wrap an arm around Dodgers neck, burying your face into the fur on his back.

After what could have been either a few minutes or 15, time wasn’t moving correctly in your world, the door creaks open with Chris leaning on the doorway. He sees you in the floor, arms wrapped around both dogs and his eyes soften. “Did he give you the key?” You ask him. He holds it by the key ring and lets it dangle. “That’s good. I’m really sorry about that. I never thought that he would ever show up here again. I hadn’t prepared for it.”

He sighs and squats down beside you, a hand on your head running it over your hair. “We did move a little fast as well. It was just such a rare opportunity, for both of us, where we didn’t have other things so we could spend as much time as we wanted together. I was enjoying it.”

“Me too.” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you wanted to ask what was on your mind. “Did he say anything else?”

Chris’ eyes flashed for a moment and he took his hand from you. “If you want to take him back just tell me now. I can’t say I understand, but I know you have a history.”

“What?” You were thoroughly confused until it clicked. He thought you were asking if he said anything more about taking you back. “Fuck no I don’t want him back. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t make any threats to you or the dogs or anything. Him being in here and letting himself in freaked me out. What if he has another key?” You were starting to panic and he could hear it in your voice. He sat beside you in the floor and pulled you to him.

“I don’t think he does, although I’m going to have to let my manager know. He finally recognized me when we got to the lobby. He seemed more scared when he figured it out, which was weird. I’m still going to have to keep an eye on it to make sure he doesn’t try to cash the story into the tabloids.”

“Uggg this was not what I wanted. This is your vacation time, you don’t need to be more stressed.” You bang your forehead into his chest, a soft ‘ow’ from him stops you.

“Let’s just forget about it for now and go relax on the couch like we’d planned. After we’ve both calmed down than we can talk.”

It was that word, talk, that dreaded word that got your heart racing again. So much for relaxing tonight.

Next Chapter

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#chris evans x reader #chris evans x plus size reader #plus sized reader #Chris Evans #Dog Days of Summer

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gray-anxiety · 5 years

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No Sympathy → Levi Ackerman Chapter 8 → The Game

Read the rest of the chapters here!

For the sake of literally every other reader that does not reside in America, the football mentioned is not your football, it’s the fucked up hand version that Americans are somehow addicted to (especially in southern states). Also, this is a filler chapter and is completely unimportant to the storyline (I just wanted to write the chaotic mess that is the gang of five). Apologies for my writing not being at its best, my cat has fallen ill, so I’m not completely focused when writing currently.

Levi groaned and turned to the other side of his bed. He already knew what time it was as he had just gone to bed not even two hours prior — insomnia sucked ass, but was very consistent at least. Levi slowly sat up and let his eyes adjust to the blinding light coming from behind him while he combed his fingers through his ebony hair. Grabbing his phone off of the nightstand next to him, Levi’s eyes focused on the white numbers standing out from his black lock screen — just as he already predicted, it was 7:20 on the dot. Levi knew he had slept in when it came to him, but Aella had been in his room working on a mural project that took up the entire wall and had stayed there until he forced her to go to bed at 5 A.M. when he saw that she was staring off into space frequently — forcing Levi to stay up later than normal. Levi turned and let his legs slip out from under the covers to dangle off of his bed — he didn’t feel like getting up after the entire ordeal that went down the night prior. Levi’s feet padded to the bathroom silently for a well-needed shower that could relieve his head of the aching headache he had after the shitshow Hanji made after entering the apartment; Levi stepped in the running shower, feeling his muscles relax almost instantaneous when they met the hot pellets of water raining down on him — his thick ebony hair soaked up the water with the utmost ease and successfully, against Levi’s wishes, turned into a mop atop of his head. Levi’s head rested against the glass wall after washing his hair and stood there — thinking about everything that recently happened.

“Damn, this is a pretty nice place, Aella!” Levi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head when, once more, Hanji was pissing the hell out of Levi off for the umpteenth time that hour. Against Levi’s decision, Aella had invited the three gangsters to their apartment to hide for a while after the entire ordeal happening previously. Erwin, as soon as he entered the door, walked to the bookshelf Aella had and looked through each and every book with curiosity, while Mike simply sniffed, nodded to himself, and sat on the couch. Levi did have to admit, those two weren’t nearly as bothersome as one Hanji Zoë — talking with Aella at the table parallel to the wall and kitchen. Levi sighed and combed his fingers through his hair once more; it was bad enough to have one person be affiliated with the infamous Blade, leader of No Sympathy, but to have three others as well? Talk about a death wish. Levi’s thoughts roamed to the conversation he had previously intercepted at the fateful party — who knew his name? Nevertheless, who would sell him out? Granted, almost anyone would sell out Levi at a certain price, but who would be close enough to the government to even consider leaking his name? Levi shook his head and sighed — he needed answers and the only way he was going to get any was to ask around — starting with Hanji. Eventually, the trio left, but not until Hanji promised to come back first thing next morning with the other two as well. Silent knocks rang throughout the bathroom from the door — Levi’s eyes widened — how long was he thinking?

“Levi? Are you okay?” Aella. Levi stood back up to full height and moved his arm to turn off the shower.

“Yeah.” Levi slid open the door and grabbed the towel he had folded neatly on the floor — he wasn’t about to get water everywhere on the tiles. Levi quickly dried off his body and hair before walking out to dress — throwing on a basic sleeveless white shirt and black jeans, Levi carried on with a somewhat established morning routine and opened the door to only see Hanji sitting on the couch.

“Heya, Shorty!” Levi groaned and glared at Aella who only shrugged, carrying on with her discussion with Erwin about some book shit Levi didn’t care about. Levi nodded his head towards Hanji in acknowledgment and headed towards the kitchen for anything that would fill his stomach. Hanji casually walked over to stand beside Levi — irritating him beyond belief. Hanji only smirked and kept standing whilst watching Levi make food.

“Do you fucking mind?” Levi grumbled, seeing Hanji’s shit-eating grin only grow.

“I heard you wanted information from those mafia higher-ups last night, no?” Levi only slightly nodded — not liking whatever idea that’s about to escape Hanji’s lips. Hanji’s grin, somehow, got bigger until finally, she broke eye contact to sit on the counter — practically killing Levi with the thought of the amount of dirt now on the counter.

“Lucky for you, there’s a football game tonight. I don’t know if you’ve realized this or not, newbie, but our weekend football games are huge! Nevertheless, today is Sunday, the unofficial football day of the week! You’re bound to get information there!” Levi’s brow raised; Hanji was absolutely correct — if he wanted to have a starting point, this would be it. Levi couldn’t believe he was about to agree with the irritating gangster genius that was Hanji, but he needed information.

“…Fine. Aella stays with you at all times — do not lose her.” Hanji smirked at a job well done.

“Erwin, Mike, looks like we’ll be going to the game with two others.” Mike, having already heard the entire conversation only nodded. Though, Erwin and Aella both gave Hanji confused glances.

“Hanji, you’re saying you really just got Levi to agree to attend and watch a high school football game?” Erwin was smarter than he looked, Levi had to admit. Yes, Levi was going to attend the game, but watching it, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

“To attend? Yes. Watch? Not likely. At least, not the first half anyway.” Levi looked at Hanji with a blank stare.

“And what of the second half?” Erwin knew Hanji was planning something that not even Levi knew about — and he was the entire topic of this discussion. Hanji messed with her spiked goggles that laid atop of her head.

“Simple, really. Levi has to play the part of just a simple person in attendance, not someone looking for information and indirectly looking shady as all hell. Levi will spend the first half of the game focused on information, while the second half is just pretending to watch, and of course, give a shit.” Aella stood up and sipped out of Levi’s teacup (earning a murderous glance from said man).

“Well, I mean, Levi is short enough for people to not realize he’s there, so he technically could just scout the entire game. If he is really going to join us during the second half, he needs to have a damn good story if asked — I mean, come on, he’s a fucking popular and we aren’t.” Aella slid onto the counter — practically causing Levi to faint from the thought of dirt — and leaned on Hanji, who was cackling after Aella’s snide remarks. Erwin nodded and started to think up any believable story for Levi to use if he’s ever caught; though, as much as high schoolers couldn’t give a shit about regular people, populars were almost always the exception when it came to hot guys.

“Levi is a part of our gang — as simple as that. Aella is there because she is Levi’s girlfriend.” Erwin concluded — even if it was a pretty shallow story, it should drive people away from asking anything else; it was practically an unspoken rule in Karanese that if you know someone if a part of a gang to not ask for your own safety. Aella groaned at the shitty excuse Erwin pulled her into and gave him a glare that lasted until it couldn’t anymore.

“Erwin, you fucking serious right now? That’s all that you could come up with? Not, oh I don’t know, roommate?” Erwin shrugged his shoulders and drank the iced coffee he had brought with him. Levi raised his brow and blinked his eyes a few times.

“…So, if anyone dares to ask me why I’m with you fuckers I have to simply reply with ‘gang activity’?” Hanji nodded her head, finally paying attention after Aella heard of the excuse.

“Pretty much, you don’t have to mention the Aella part, unless they ask of course, but even then you could just say roommate — you’ll just have people assume you guys sleep together so much you now live with one another.” Aella nodded her head — as much as she hated to admit it, Hanji was right. Assumptions killed reputations just like that — this was no exception. Everyone came to a silent agreement on the plan and carried on with whatever the hell they were doing before the discussion. The hours passed, albeit slowly, and eventually, the time came for the football game. Levi turned on his phone and saw the time — 3:45 P.M.

“Let’s go, guys! Who do you think is going to win? Our team is going up against a team from Rose after all.” Hanji asked, mainly towards Erwin — who had predicted every game correctly since Freshmen year. Erwin opened the notes app on his phone and looked at the competitor’s history before clearing his throat.

“Probably ours — they might be skinny, but they don’t have Shadis as a coach.” Aella rolled her eyes and grabbed a mini backpack she had in her room:

“He’s still coaching? Didn’t he lose every single game like a year or two ago?” Erwin nodded and opened the door, holding it open for everyone until Levi closed the door to lock it.

“Yes, he did lose every single game. But, after he heard of Erwin’s impressive on the spot predictions, he went to Erwin for assistance. Our buddy Erwin here was an assistant coach for a year!” Hanji grinned and pulled out her skateboard from the backpack she always carried with her. Aella grinned back at Hanji and set down her own skateboard and bolted on at the same time Hanji did with her own. The mischievous pair had already said ‘race ya!’ ages ago and left the three men in their dust. Mike was first to nod his head in the direction of the two skateboarders:

“So, are we going to go after them, or what?” Erwin nodded while Levi shrugged — might as well as run after them. The three men broke into sprints to catch up with the women and made their way to Karanese stadium placed by the large high school. Hanji kicked her skateboard up and put it in her backpack and stood in the parking lot in front of the stadium; it was already ear-piercingly loud from the cheers of the crowd with the accompaniment of the marching band performing — Levi knew he was going to have a head-splitting headache after this, but he needed any leads possible. Hanji grabbed Aella’s hand and ran into the stadium, leaving Erwin to pay for the admission tickets; after Erwin practically killed his wallet with just admission alone, the three men walked in the cement entrance forming a tunnel that lowered like a long ramp to the field, and evidently, the numerous rows upon rows of seats. Mike easily spotted an overexcited Hanji with an embarrassed Aella holding onto her arm near the top; Mike pointed to the two and nodded to Erwin. Levi let out a groan at the mess he had already borne witness to in the stands and walked off back into the cement tunnel as on both right and left sides of Levi were paths that wrapped around the stadium allotting exits to different areas. The long tunnel even had viewing areas carved out like windows, but without the glass, underneath the stands that were fenced off right above the entrances that both acted like exits on either side of the stadium. Levi walked around and saw some teens leaning against the walls smoking a blunt or two, but nothing suspicious. The crowd roared overhead signaling that the game had begun; even the microphoned commentators could be heard from underneath. Dull pain invaded Levi’s head from all the noise above — he hated football games — they were too loud for him to handle.

“Did you hear about the fight pools being hosted tomorrow? Rumor has it Eren and Mikasa are going to be fighting again!” A guy with close-cropped hair grinned towards his friend. Levi turned his head and stopped walking — fight pools, huh? This was no lead at all, but the possibility of leading to an actual lead pulled Levi to pay close attention. The other male rolled his eyes and fluffed out the lighter portion of his hair.

“Do you hear yourself, Connie? Of course, those two will be fighting again! They always do — it’s how they make their money.” The practically bald teen sighed at his friend’s unexcited reaction.

“Jean, come on. Those two are badass and never cease to give a good show. We should go! It’s also an excuse to see her too, you know.” Jean’s face exploded into a deep blush and stammered denials of a repressed crush on said ‘her’. Levi had enough of pointless high school flings — he already had enough information from that conversation alone. Levi stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued his stroll around the stadium until receiving a text from Aella telling him it was almost time for the second half. Levi walked through the messy crowds and sat next to Aella, who was looking up at the score. Levi looked up as well and saw that it was a fairly close game — home was only leading by a single touchdown; easy enough victory if played right by the guest team. Hanji started cheering her loudest the moment half-time ended and the players once more stepped on the field.

“My ears are ringing from how much cheering Hanji has been doing. Please tell me your expedition was somewhat better?” Aella groaned and laid her head on Levi’s shoulder. Levi huffed and shook his head:

“No. The only information I got was of some fight pools hosting a fight tomorrow — might go. You’re going since shop’s closed tomorrow.” Aella sighed and murmured out a ‘fine’ before directing her attention back to the game at hand. The crowds roared over the tense second half, but neither Levi nor Aella really made a move to stand or cheer; both were tired from endless interaction and a crazy weekend. Just as Erwin had predicted, the home team won by 6 points. Hanji stood up and stretched her arms out:

“That was some game! I really thought you were going to be wrong at some points, Erwin!” Erwin smiled and bowed his head, standing up also.

“Hey, Aella didn’t you think it was some game-“ Hanji stopped mid-sentence when she saw Aella half-asleep, her head on Levi’s shoulder. Levi rolled his eyes and moved Aella’s head so he could stand.

“I’m taking her home anyway. Thanks to you, she’s like this, Asshat.” Levi grumbled to Hanji before hoisting Aella onto his back for him to carry her home.

“Oi, pass me her skateboard, won’t you?” Levi clicked his tongue at Hanji, who complied and handed Levi Aella’s skateboard.

“Since you two are stuck with us, and conveniently enough we have the same lunch period, meet us at the rooftop during lunch, ‘kay? Tell Aella I said sorry!” Hanji smiled goodbye.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you.” And with that, Levi walked home while carrying a half-asleep Aella home.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

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Wan High Weeping (Part 36)

Jet got loaded into an ambulance and he was getting loaded into a cop car. Jet the rapist, the predator. He got a cushy trip to the hospital. And he was off to jail. Chan cursed again, they ought to be thanking him, he was the hero in this situation. Hell, that Sokka guy was a pretty decent hero.

But instead of a congratulations they had cuffed both of them and were hauling them off.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Chan muttered from the backseat. “I saved her! I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You have a record Mr. Haga.” Remarked the woman behind the wheel. “In fact, I do recall being one of the officers to escort you home after your last incident.” She paused and he knew that she was going to ask his least favorite question. “Did you take your medication tonight?”

“No, I…” What was he going to say? He couldn’t tell her that he’d been drinking. He was horribly lucky that they didn’t see any alcohol, and even luckier that he had parents who could pay them off if they did. “No, I forgot, I was a little busy.”

He let the conversation die there, finding it lost under many layers of red. Jet had well and killed his closest friend and he was going to walk as a free man. He had been conversing with Jet this whole time, if it weren’t for Chu-Leng, Jet probably would have been the one to fill in for Ruon-Jian.

He rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. This was frustrating all the way around. Maybe it was time to call it quits, the parties, the cliques, friendships…

It took all of his willpower to not deliver a blow to the carseat in front of him.

Friendship, what a load of bullshit. The fake ones stay and the real ones die.

It was time to quit Usha too. When he got out of this cop car and to a cell phone, he’d cut her out as fast as he could manage.

He’d cut them all out, if he had to.

He tightened his fists, he was teetering on the edge of an outburst. All of those people in his house and not one of them would ask if he was alright. They’d approach him and make inquiries, sure. But those questions will only be about when the next party is.

They pull him out of the vehicle, and not gently.

He found himself in a room with only a table and two chairs and he wondered if he should be demanding a lawyer.

His parents were going to kill him.

Absolutely kill him.

And they didn’t even know just what had transpired in their house.

A man sat down and introduced himself as officer Yu-Ron. Needless formalities. He’d been in this building enough to know the man’s face and see his name tag. Yu-Ron sat down and sighed. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to see you back here so soon.”

“Yeah, well, maybe fighting cripples and shoving my ex wasn’t thrilling enough for me.” He wished that he hadn’t said it, out loud it sounded as awful as it was. “So I guess I had to go and beat the fucker who harassed my friend until he died.”

Just what the hell was he doing, dropping all of that without a lawyer in sight.

Yu-Ron nodded.

He had just dropped a blatant confession. Was bail even an option in cases like these? “Look, I was defending that...that girl, what’s her name? We both know I’m an asshole, but even I have boundaries. He was trying to...he was about too…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “He was going to...rape someone. In my house. At my party. I couldn’t just let him do it okay.”

Yu-Ron remained quiet. A tactic that he fell for every time.

“Look, man, I think that he did it before.” Chan sputtered. “That’s why TyLee was there. Because she knew. And Ruon knew and that’s why Jet made his life hell.” He rubbed at his hairline and slapped his hand down on the table. “Fuck, man, I couldn’t stop it from happening. I couldn’t save my own friend. I couldn’t let it happen again.”

He was truly a fool offering so much information without a lawyer in sight. He leaned back in his chair and held his palms to his hairline. He released a puff of a breath. “I need my pills, man.”

.oOo.

It was a relief to wake up in his own bed, even if it was 4:25 in the morning. He didn’t know how many strings his parents had to pull to keep him from waking up on that stiff holding cell mattress. He didn’t know if they had pulled any at all. Perhaps his own cooperation had done him well for a change. Maybe, saving Katara had been a good enough reason…

He was almost certain that he was going to be pulled in for a second round of questioning eventually.

Chan tried not to think about that as he brushed his teeth and set it down to find his comb. He slicked his hair back and sulked to the breakfast table. The house was still a horrible mess and his father was sitting in the middle of it, flipping through a news article. “I wonder how long it will be until this…” he gestured about the room, “makes the papers.”

He didn’t think that it would take a long time at all, actually.

“How many times do you expect us to do this for you? How many times are we going to bail you out? Did you know that we are going to have to cut back on our food budget and take a lower tier phone and internet plan for this?”

He did not.

“Your medications cost money that you are spending on parties and possible jail time.” His father continued.

“One of these days you’re going to do something that we can’t bail you out of.” His mother added. He hadn’t even heard her rifling around the pantry. “From the sound of it you almost had.”

Chan didn’t want to do this right now. He fished his pills out of his pocket and popped two, he’d be needing them to take him through this conversation. He wished that she would just give the pills time to take effect.

“We let you throw all of these parties, Chan. We let you invite as many people as you want. We even let you have beer! All we asked was that you didn’t get the cops called on you and that you had the place clean by the time we got home.”

He wanted to scream at her, to throw it in her face that maybe she should have been more strict with him. It began to occur to him that maybe he hated their constant absence. That maybe all of this freedom was too much for him. Perhaps the spike in the magnitude of his parties was some sort of challenge. A way to indirectly beg them to tighten their rules.

“There are cigarettes all over the place, beer bottles, a bag of--I don’t even know what this is! I even found one of your party guests passed out in our bathroom this morning! God, what else has gone on in this house that we haven’t seen?”

He didn’t speak fast enough so his father interjected. “Have you even seen everything that goes on in this house.”

Apparently he had not. “It was a house party, of course I don’t know about everything!” He hollered.

“A girl was assaulted in our guest bedroom!” Mrs. Haga shouted back.

“Yes! I stopped that from happening! That’s why I was in…”

“You wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t host a party like that in the first place.” His father argued.

“So what? Are you going to ban me from having anymore?” He questioned. “Maybe you should have been responsible enough to do that in the first place. You’re my parents.”

“We were trying to give you freedom.” His mother rebutted.

“We have given you everything you wanted and then some.” His father raised his voice. “We let you choose your own career path, we let you…”

“Oh for fuck’s…” His hands were clawing at his hairline again. They were really throwing all of that at him. They were going to pin it all on him. God forbid, they ever came home to give him something to do other than party. “Maybe if you guys were actually around I wouldn’t need fucking strangers for company!”

Maybe if he hadn’t lost Ruon…

“Do not use that word around your mother!” Mr. Haga snapped.

“Christ!” Chan slammed his fist against the wall. “At least keep yelling at me for something that fucking matters.” They were making him wish that he had woken up in a cell. He made his retreat, knowing very well that they wouldn’t follow him. He wanted them to. He wanted their fury, he wanted consequence. At least fury and punishment was attention. But as soon as his foot met the first stair the conversation was over.

Likely it wouldn’t come up again unless he brought it up.

They had better things to do; a vacation to be had or a family business to run.

He wished that their hotel chain would go under. They’d lose all of their luxarey, but at least he’d have parents.

He needed a distraction, something. Anything. He turned on his computer and glanced over his social media accounts. According to the drunks and the ignorant it had been a successful party. He almost clicked out.

Almost.

Usha had so kindly uploaded a few pictures of Azula. He knew he vowed to cut her out, but lord did Usha know how to create a distraction. He had his own image of Azula to share, he supposed that she would be a good distraction. She could handle it, she always did, so he commented on the post.

.oOo.

Monday passed by cruelly uneventfully leaving him plenty of time to think about Ruon and Jet. He stopped at Azula’s locker with Chu-Leng and Usha to slip a few notes in the girl’s locker. For once he was content to follow instead of call the shots.

He took his seat in June’s class.

“She making this too easy.” Chu-Leng snickers.

“Yeah, she really is.” Chan agreed, watching the girl in question enter the room.

As Azula took her seat, Chu-Leng leaned over again. “I mean first she gifts us with a goldmine of photos and then she leaves us a nice window to put them all in her locker. This is rich dude.”

He didn’t know what Chu-Leng was expecting him to do so he just snickered along until his friend retreated.

As soon as the boy did, Chan wished that he would have kept the conversation going. Because now he was thinking again. He was thinking about his nightmare. It was a horrible thing really, he was back at his party but, oddly, it was he under Jet--his pants well and discarded. TyLee and Katara were there too, in later stages of Jet’s sick fantasy. Azula was there too, the old Azula. Smaller and smug-er, with a wickedly delighted gleam in her eye. She was watching. She didn’t care, in fact she was almost amused. She let Jet straddle him. She laughed as he did so.

Irrationally, think of the dream made him mad at the real Azula.

Irrationally, he wanted to hurt her for what she had allowed in his dream.

She didn’t know…

By third hour he decided to skip the rest of the school day. It was a drag. At least if he stole away to do doughnuts in his car, he wouldn’t think anymore. So he pulled his car into the nearest gravel parking lot. He shifted the car into first gear. His adrenaline spiking as he accelerated, he turned is wheel sharply to the right. He yanked on the hand break. Feeling the car slid and spin takes the edge off of the spinning of his mind and his world.

He didn’t know how much time and gas he wasted. He didn’t know how much dust he’d kicked up. It didn’t matter because at least his mind had quieted. At least the adrenaline had calmed.

.oOo.

It had been a temporary fix. He was angry all over again and didn’t have enough gas for anymore drifting. Not that it would help anymore, he’d driven ridiculously fast on Tuesday as well, that kind of adrenaline was losing its power. Dream Azula entered his mind and he latched onto that image as he emptied soda can after soda can into his locker. He finished each by violently flattening the can on the floor and whipping it across the hall as hard as he could, only stopping when he heard the tell-tale heel clicks of a teacher. He scrambled away, hiding in the crowd, waiting for Azula to arrive.

Her reaction was lackluster. No surprise on her face, no dismayed cry. He realized that she wasn’t reacting at all. He was irked even further so he stormed up to her locker and slammed it shut in her face. "Thought that you could use a drink." "Very thoughtful, Chan." She still wasn’t reacting to his satisfaction. No, her voice was flat and emotionless. He didn’t understand where her bite had gone. He almost let her walk away. But he couldn’t stand it. He needed to coax that spark. He wanted her to lash out at him. He wanted her to say something awful back, something that would destroy him as Jet had broke Ruon-Jian. So he hustled to catch up with her and offered her a round two. "So, are you going to pay me for eating half of the food at my party?" "I provided entertainment, you should pay me." She had given him wit, but the comment had no power behind it. It was missing the sting he craved. So he pushed a third time. "That's true, it's a gift that keeps on giving." If he was going to rouse her temper he would have to do better than that. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone eat like that! I don't know how you can eat so much at once." He added a laugh. But he wasn’t satisfied with his insult, it wasn’t even that good. "There's something wrong with you." He waited eagerly for a vehement, world destroying blow. But Azula never delivered. Instead he watched her attempt to get comfortable in her chair. He had the opportunity for one more insult. He thought that this one would be good enough to earn him the mental slap that he craved. "Careful, you're going to break it!" The only slap he earned Chu-Leng giving him a high five. He almost didn’t hear Azula mutter a soft, "probably."

Chan stopped laughing, had she really just agreed with him? She wasn’t supposed to agree with him. She was supposed to get angry and tear him apart. But her head seemed to dip, she was withdrawing. Something in him stirred unpleasantly. The feeling only grew worse when the bell rang and he watched her leave.

And he realized that he had just created a new problem for himself. He wasn’t just thinking about Ruon, TyLee, and Katara anymore. He was thinking about his stupid ex. His ridiculously pretty, highly insecure ex.

He wondered if he should try to catch up to her and apologize. But she seemed occupied at lunch and somehow the thought of apologizing to her sent a trill of fear down his spine.

.oOo.

He didn’t see her in class on Thursday and his unsettled feeling grows. The feeling flourishes when they pulled him into the office. It ebbed away some when he saw officer Yu-Ron standing in the doorway. The man didn’t speak to him at all as he drove him to the station. “So why can’t we just do the investigation here, in school?”

The question went unanswered.

Yu-Ron led him into another room. Apparently Yu-Ron was just his escort. The woman sitting at the other end of the table had a stony and stern wrinkled face. Her badge read, ‘Officer Park Yoka’. She addressed him coldly. “Do you know what involuntary manslaughter is, Mr. Haga?”

He swallowed. He had a pretty vague idea.

“Involuntary manslaughter is an unintentional murder, if you will. Perhaps you don’t even realize that it is about to happen. It can be negligence or recklessness. It can be drunk driving. It can be a prank gone wrong. Or, it can, very commonly, be bullying.”

His stomach sank.

“Around mid afternoon, Azula Kasai was transported to the hospital after she was found in her car with an empty bottle of diet pills and an empty bottle of klonopin...”

His throat ran dry as she listed a third medication.

“Among others, she mentioned your name multiple times en route.”

He knew that the woman was waiting for him to say something for himself, but he couldn’t seem to sputter anything intelligible. He hadn’t wanted her to die, he just wanted to alleviate his school-hour boredom and look cool as he did so. He just wanted a reaction. “She wasn’t supposed to…”

“Yes, that is why it is called involuntary manslaughter.” The woman laid her icy eyes upon him. “You’re very lucky Mr. Haga. Ms. Kasai is still alive. It would do you well to hope that the girl doesn’t press charges.”

Chan’s mind races. His parents couldn’t take another hit like that. He was going to have to wipe his social media. The officer seemed to read his mind. “Kasai is a smart woman, she has acquired more than enough proof to pursue a good lawsuit.”

Chan leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, he almost wanted to burst out in a fit of bitter laughter right there. He had dodged a bullet with the beating of Jet, but they were going to get him for this. He supposed that Azula would be the one to end his reign of terror.

He just wondered how many other people his ex would be taking down alongside him.

#Avatar #Chan #Azula #Mai #TyLee #Katara #Jet #Ruon-Jian #Toph #Sokka #Aang #Zuko #Suki #Fanfiction

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unvillges · 6 years

Text

Fools | Chapter 12

Pairing: min yoongi x ofc

Summary: min yoongi is a world famous producer and needs an assistant to help him out, but what he got was much more

Word Count: 5,002

fools masterlist

"Come over tonight." Yoongi says as he sits at the edge of my desk, looking down as I type away on the computer. I look up at him with a raise of my eyebrow and he gives me a smile.

It had been a few weeks since the night at Hoseok's party, most of the time we had spent together after was in the office. Although things had started to change, he usually would give me a quick kiss when he saw me in the morning and before I left. Our lunch breaks, which he now took with me instead of locked away in his office, were usually filled with fun and light conversations instead of silence or some retorting back and forth comments. Some days I'd walk in with a cup of coffee sitting on my desk just how I liked it, others he'd leave me a note.

But, one thing that stuck was that I was still not allowed inside his office. It seemed fair at first, he didn't really know me and I was sort of an outsider looking in for a while. Now it was just weird, I just had to put the thought in the back of my mind that he most likely was doing something that was personal and wasn't any of my business.

"Please?" He said, when I didn't answer right away, flashing me one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen from him. "We can order in and watch a movie or something. I'm actually not going to lock myself away into my studio tonight. This is a once in a life time opportunity."

"Okay, okay." I said tossing him a small grin as I shook my head, not being able to help the smile that spread across my features. "What time do you plan on finishing up?"

"Probably around 5:30? Calling it an early night tonight so we can hang out, talk, enjoy ourselves."

I was excited to be able to have some alone time with Yoongi outside the office, like mentioned, it was sparse and we hadn't had a true moment alone yet since starting up - well, whatever the hell this was. Not to mention, we still had one very important thing that was left to talk about, something that is mostly the reason why we haven't really put a name on what we were - Sofia.

From what I understood about Sofia she wasn't someone that was good for him, and it wasn't someone he wanted to be with anymore but that didn't mean that what happened with them, whatever that was, wasn't holding him back from moving on. There had to be a reason he had run away the few months before hand, a reason that she was in his studio making out the day after he had kissed me. There was a reason for everything that happened between them and I knew that I had to get to the bottom of it.

"Okay, perfect." I say nodding my head which causes him to get up from my desk.

"Perfect, then it's a date." He says as he starts to back out of my office.

"That it is."

And with that he turns on his heel and I don't see him again until 5:30 on the dot where he's knocking on the door to my office with a smile on his face as if he couldn't believe that I was still there. "You ready?" He asks as I start to collect my things, nodding my head in excitement. I walked around to the other side of my desk where I was greeted with a swift kiss on the cheek before he took my hand in his.

His apartment wasn't too far from the office, a 10 minute walk was all we needed and explained why there were so many late nights and early mornings spent at the office, it took him less than no time to get back. Our conversation was brief, mostly work related before we found ourselves standing at his doorstep. He opened the door to his massive apartment that seemed almost too good to be true.

"Make yourself at home." He says as we walk in, grabbing my bag from me and putting it down. "I'm going to order food soon, do you have any preference?" I shake my head as i walk in, mesmerized by the place that he lived in, not even thinking that it was possible to live in somewhere so amazing.

"Anything is good." I say as I turn back to look at him. He's staring at me with a smile on his features, the features on his face soft and relaxed compared to his usual stoic look. "What?" I ask after a few seconds, suddenly realizing how embarrassed I was that he was just staring at me.

"Nothing, nothing." He says before turning away, focusing his attention to his phone to order whatever food he had in mind for he two of us.

I continue to venture into the apartment, finding my way over to the couch and sitting down. It was something I never thought would actually ever happen, and to some degree it still feels a little bit out of place, as if this was nothing but a dream. I watched Yoongi as he walked over, his ear on the phone as he spoke to the person on the other side but I was too busy watching him to even listen to what he was saying. He sat down next to me, leaning down to grab my legs and swing them up so that they were sitting in his lap.

"Mhm, mhm, yeah." He said to the person on the other line, but he looked down at me as I laid back on the pillows behind me. It was new to me to be intimate with him because while things were different and definitely exciting, we never had alone time. During the day we still had work to do, or Hoseok would walk in at the most inconvenient times. We'd try to hide in the break room and talk or hang out but Julie would walk in with an "Oh! I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" as her face turned red from embarrassment. Sometimes we'd try in my office, but the phone would always ring and interrupt something. I didn't even bother bringing up his studio as an idea, knowing already the lecture and bad moods I'd be hit with if I even attempted to ask, until he was ready to invite me in I was just staying back.

"Okay, thanks." He says before clicking off, putting his phone on the coffee table in front of us. "About 40 minutes." He says as he pushes my legs apart and wedges himself in between them so that he can hover over me, his hands on my hips. "Well, this is new." He jokes causing me to roll my eyes and let out a chuckle as he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips.

It was soft and sweet for the most part, sometimes he'd surprise me with a bit more roughness than was expected but kissing him - well, it was something I could get used to. And we did for a while, just taking it slow and enjoying each others company to the fullest extent that we could. It wasn't until a knot formed in my stomach that I pulled away, using my hands against his chest to push him away, letting out a sigh as he does. He looks down at me with a raise of his eyebrow, not entirely sure why I pulled away and looking more confused than anything.

"What's wrong?" Yoongi asks as he catches his breath, his hand moving up to rest on the side of my face. "Is this too much? Do I need to stop?"

"No, no," I shake my head, suddenly feeling this strong feeling in my stomach that was too noticeable to fight off. "That was great but, I just I need a second." I say and he moves off of me, sitting back down on the couch as I sit back up to catch my breath. It takes me another second before I get up off his couch and could feel this anxiety taking over me, not entirely sure where it was coming from. "Where's your bathroom?" I ask quickly, my eyes scanning the apartment.

"Third door on the left. Are you okay?" He asks but I didn't bother to look at him as I quickly walked over, shutting the door behind me. It was out of nowhere, like a whirlwind of emotions struck me so hard and suddenly I couldn't breathe, like there was something sitting on my chest holding me down. The banging on the door startled me as I leaned against it. "Lili, what's going on?"

"I'm okay!" I yelled back after a few moments. "I'm okay, I'll be out in a few." I locked the door knob and took a step forward, letting myself lean against the sink as I took a deep breath. It had hit me hard the reality of what was going on, and it hit me at the wrong moment. The idea that Yoongi and I were possibly more than just a friend or even employee/boss relationship was a lot to swallow in such a short amount of time. And while sweeping through all those thoughts it occurred to me that Sofia was always going to be there and in the back of my mind I couldn't help but think that maybe she would always come first and before me.

I had never directly interacted with her, mainly because I had just recently learned about her, but the recent instances that she affected Yoongi all in some shape or form had indirectly involved me. When we first hung out the few days after I was hired she called and he had left and not returned for days, something I'm still not sure about as to the reason why. Then when we had kissed, not even a full 24 hours later she was there and he was with her. In the back of my head she was always going to be there and I wouldn't have even been shocked if she showed up now while we were hanging out. It seems like when it's true alone time with the two of us, Hoseok not there, then she's two steps behind us.

I knew I was going to have to talk to Yoongi about it eventually and after the feeling passed I thought that maybe that it wasn't the right time to do so, it felt too forced and possibly not like the right time to bring this up. So, I took one last breath before going back to the door putting on the best smile that I could even though I know that it looked pained and forced.

"Sorry, I was feeling sick. I think I just needed a moment." He nods his head and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead.

"Are you okay now?" He asks, his hand moving to cup at my cheek, looking at me fondly as he does so. "Food should be here soon, we can just watch a movie and hang out then, no worries." He says as he presses one last kiss to my forehead and grabs my hand, pulling me back towards the living room.

Yoongi sits down and I fall down right next to him, curling my legs up next to me before I move to rest my head against his chest. His hands travel down to rest on my arms, dragging his fingers back and forth against my skin as he turned on the television and put on something to watch. I just kept my thoughts in line with what was going on, trying not to let it wander to something else and ruin what was going on.

My arm wrapped his torso and I gave him a small squeeze, earning a soft kiss to the top of my head after as we sat and just relaxed, not worrying about anything. He put on a movie, something that random that had played reruns over and over again on the same cable network.

"Do you think he dies in the end?" Yoongi says after a few moments, my head lifting up to look at him. "Seriously, do you think he does?"

"Have you never seen this movie?" I asked, my eyebrows raising slightly.

"No, I have." He says a smile taking over his features. "I just love it when you give me this look like I'm the dumbest person alive, it's just funny." He laughs, causing me to roll my eyes at him which in turn makes him laugh harder.

A swift knock at the door causes our conversation and our relaxing time to come to an abrupt stop. He finds his way over to the door to grab the food, paying and thanking the delivery person before he steps back into the apartment.

"What did you get?" I asked as I got up from the couch, moving over to where the table was to see what he had in front of him. It was a plethora of different containers with Chinese food inside, he got all my favorites from when we had ordered in at the studio a few times. I grabbed two plates and some forks for us and we started to dig in, sitting down at the table and just eating and talking, the roaring of the television in the background being drowned out by our voices.

"Did you see that thing online?" He asked as he pushed food in his mouth with his fork in one hand and scrolled down his social media with his phone in the other. "That was like a Twitter thread of 'we don't deserve dogs'?" He asked, before showing his phone towards me, scrolling through each tweet as we ate and laughed at all the cute and funny stories that had been involved.

"That one is cute." I say with a laugh as he scrolled to a tweet about a dog that was outside an office lunch room with the sign NO DOGS ALLOWED and he just sat there minding his own business. My eyes can't help but go to the top of the page when his phone buzzes, seeing a text message from SOFIA pop up on his phone, the message underneath it blocked out instead just reading IMESSAGE instead. He quickly uses his thumb to push up the notification, probably hoping deep down that I didn't take a glimpse of it. Of course I had, but I swallowed any ideas of what could possibly be going on, what they could possibly be talking about and just ignored it.

A few minutes pass and we're talking about something different, moving from conversation to conversation quickly and smoothly as if this was something we did every day. Yoongi and I interacted on a daily basis, sure, but we never found ourselves holding conversations as fluid or interesting as this - it usually was about work.

But, this was different, we were having fun conversations about things we enjoyed, things we thought were funny or somethings we might have disagreed on but it was all in jest, and it was easy, that was the biggest thing - it was so easy.

"Are you staying the night?" He asks after we finish cleaning up the kitchen, putting all the food away and making sure everything was set so we didn't have to worry about it later. My eyebrows quirk at his question and he smiles softly at me. "I just wanted to know if I had to give you something to wear to bed or not, you're always welcome to."

"We'll see." I say with a shrug. "If I fall asleep I fall asleep." It was obvious that he wanted me to and I wanted to as well but at the same time I didn't want to busy boundaries that didn't need to be pushed yet. "But, I will borrow some of your clothes because these jeans aren't the most comfortable things to relax in."

I laugh which causes him to smile, giving his head a small shake. He walks past me, giving the back of my head a small kiss before he continues on to his bedroom to grab some clothes for me to change into. His phone is sitting on the counter in front of me and I try to ignore it as it vibrated, showing the flooding of messages that came in from Sofia. It's when she starts to call him that I weigh my options, to let it go to voicemail and pretend like I didn't even see it or to pick it up and tell her off - I felt like the first option was my safest best.

"Hey!" He says catching my attention again, looking down at the phone that I was looking at for a split second before he hands me some clothes. "You can get changed in my room or the bathroom, whichever you feel more comfortable in." He smiles, before grabbing his phone and slipping into his pocket, I nod and thank him before heading off in the direction I needed to so that I could get changed.

He gave me a pair of black sweatpants that were matched with a black t-shirt, although the clothes were fairly baggy on me they were comfortable. It smelt just like Yoongi, like cologne and coffee, and instantly comforted me from any knots that had built in my stomach throughout the night.

When I reentered he laid on the couch, a movie sitting on pause with a blanket laying over him as he typed away on his phone. "Hey," I said which caused him to quickly lock his phone and put it down next to him.

"Hey," He looks over at me and I can see a smirk forming on his face. "I like the idea of you wearing my clothes, you know. They look better on you." He says as I walk in front of him, he grabs my hand and pulls me down for a quick kiss before letting me fall down on the couch next to him. I grab the spare blanket and toss it over myself as I lay my head down on his lap, his hand moving immediately to run through my hair.

"What are we watching?" I ask, as I tug the blanket closer to me, realizing how cold I was.

"Jurassic Park." He says before pressing play. "A cultural icon of a 90s movie that has Jeff Goldblum and dinosaurs." We both laugh at his comment but quiet down once the movie starts up, both deeply paying attention to the movie we had probably seen too many times before.

It was towards the end of the movie where I started to drift off, Yoongi's soft snoring happening not too long before mine, I could tell he fell asleep when he stopped playing with my hair. But, we both held out long enough to see the very important parts of the movie, one that we both enjoyed and quoted many times throughout the night. But, as soon as I fell asleep it felt like I was being woken up, this time confused as to what was going on. Yoongi was gone and the room was dark, the once lit television having a grey static over it. It took me a moment before I registered the sound of murmurs and whispers coming from not too far away.

"You can't be here." It was a hiss coming from Yoongi, I stayed laying down but cranked my neck up to see the light from the building hallway illuminating parts next to me where it hit from being opened. "I told you that you can't be here."

"Oh come on, she's asleep. She'll never have to know." It was a female voice and my heart sank into my stomach knowing very well who it was. "Come on, Yoongi, just let me in."

"Go home, Sofia, you're drunk."

"Isn't that more of a reason to let me in? Don't want to be the reason that I go home and get hurt is it? Come on, Yoongi, save me once again."

There's quiet in the air, or maybe it's hesitation, like there's something else that should be said between them. I can't see them so I can't tell if he's looking at her, giving into her pleading looks and possible batting eyelashes. I'm not sure if she has her hand on his wrist, her unspoken words still begging for him to let her stay, manipulating him more into to doing something that he doesn't want. The way that she throws this in his face, like whenever she's drunk that he has to be the one to take care of her. I can hear him let out a sigh, one that sounds like he's going to give in and give her what she wants.

"I'll call you a cab, Sofia."

"No!" She yells now, startling me but I tried not to jump knowing very well that if I did they'd figure out I was listening.

"Can you not yell?" Yoongi voice is still whispering but his voice is a lot sharper. "You're going to wake her up."

"I don't care, you're going to let me stay here because you'll feel guilty if you don't. You'll wonder if I did something crazy again or that someone hurt me because I'm drunk and I'm all alone. Face it, Yoongi, you care too much about me."

"I'm calling you a car, Sofia, end of story. We can talk about this tomorrow." He says before it gets quiet. "Hi, I'd like to order a car." He says into the cab and from the groan that comes out Sofia I can just imagine him on the phone and sitting there with an annoyed look on his face. "Come on, it'll be down in a few minutes, I'll walk you down." He says before the door shuts and the apartment is left dark and empty.

I can't help but think about what just happened, to think about her just showing up in the middle of the night like it was something that happened everyday - it very well could have been. Maybe that's why he spent so much time at his studio, knowing that she didn't know how to get in and would eventually leave. But, how she made it seem made me think that he usually let her in and usually cared for her and I couldn't help but wonder how many times he ever let her leave. Maybe this was the first.

The door opens and closes again a few moments later causing me to shut my eyes so that Yoongi doesn't realize that I had woken up and heard everything. His footsteps approach the side of the couch and I can feel him standing over me for a few moments and I don't open my eyes.

"Lili," his voice was soft as he rests a hand on my cheek, brushing the hair off my face. "Hey, wake up." His voice is soft and I slowly open my eyes, pretending as if I had just woken up. "It's 4am, we should maybe go to bed." He says as his thumbs wipes against my cheek softly, his features soft as he looks down at me. "Unless you want to stay on the couch."

I let out a yawn as I sit up, the blanket slowly falling off where it rested on my chest and pooled in my lap. Yoongi leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, before moving his hand to intertwine in mine, helping me stand up and walk into his bedroom. It was dark and instead of putting on the light, Yoongi just guided me to the bed and opened the blankets, letting me get in before he went around on the other side and laid next to me. His arms wrapped around my stomach and he pulled me in so my back was pressed against his chest, giving me a quick kiss on my jaw before we let the room fall silent once more to fall asleep.

It wasn't long before we fell asleep, the silence and darkness creeping over us into a peaceful slumber. I couldn't help but think about Sofia and wondered if he'd ever bring it up to me or if he would ignore it and not tell me like it seems so many others seemed to do in this situation. Only time could tell.

The morning came and I found myself waking up to Yoongi groaning as he hit snooze on his alarm, it was around noon at that point and we had both totally slept as much as we could.

"Why do you have alarms on for Saturday morning?" I asked as I looked at him, my eyebrow raising slightly. His eyes weren't even open yet, still shut as he kept one arm around me, but the smile that cracked on his features let me know that he was still awake and listening to me.

"Or else I'd wake up at like 3 o'clock in the afternoon and my day would be gone, I need to know that I can get up and do stuff." He says before turning onto his side, his arm moving to drape over my torso, his head resting on my shoulder. "Good morning."

"Morning." I smile at him, the events of the night before suddenly starting to creep up on me as I looked down at him. "Do you have plans today?"

He opens his mouth and shuts it quickly as if he's holding back something and maybe he is. Maybe he has plans to meet up with Sofia and didn't want to tell me that. He didn't know that I had overheard their conversation so I couldn't blame him if he wanted to keep it a secret. There were a lot of people who if they were in this position would be quick to point fingers and respond in such a negative light, trying to easily to bring out the ugly part of their relationship before it can get to anything. And as much as I hated seeing him around Sofia and I wish we could talk about it, it seemed like he had never said no to her before the night before and it could be progress. I wanted him to work out what he had to work out, if it went too long without being spoken about then we'd have to talk about it. I couldn't blame him for wanting to clean out his skeletons before I found them.

But, as usual, Yoongi always surprised me.

"Sofia came over last night." He said, after a few moments, his eyes looking at mine as if he was trying to read my mind, wanting to know what I was thinking. "While you were asleep, she came over and tried to get in and I told her that you were here and she needed to go home." He sighs and shakes his head. "And I promised her that we could talk today and I know that you and I haven't even talked yet about that whole situation, trust me I know and I want to. But, there are things that I need to get settled first."

I was shocked if I was being honest, I had heard so many stories from my friends about their boyfriends meeting up with their exes (although Yoongi was not my boyfriend) and then they never told them about it, it usually ended up in some big fight and some type of break up but the fact that he told me about it and didn't hold me back made me think he was more serious about this relationship than I thought he would be.

"I know." I say after a few moments. "I woke up when she was talking, I heard some of what was going on."

It turned silent as we both looked away from each other but still held each other close, my hand moving to play with his hair, softly running my fingers through it.

"What did you think?"

"I thought that it was good that you kicked her out." I say, pausing for a moment before continuing on. "But, what would have happened if I wasn't here?"

"Good question." He say. "I don't know to be sure, and I think that's why we're going to talk tonight, so that I can be sure that if you're here or not that like I can stop saying yes to her all the time."

We both agree and stay silent for a while, letting the air around us dictate whether it was full of tension or worry, not sure where we should go after this talk. The rest of the day is quick is after that, he promised to meet with Sofia at around 2pm so we made a quick lunch before I had to leave, Yoongi kissing me practically every time I tried to say goodbye, not wanting me to leave just yet but I knew that the sooner I left the sooner he could figure out what he waned to do with the situation at hand.

I got back to my house a few hours later, flopping down on my bed and letting out a deep breath. This was going to be some work between the two of us, knowing now that his ex was someone so prominent in his life, someone who was always going to be there lurking through every single shadow. We could only wait to figure out the next thing that happened and deep down I hoped that it was soon.

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