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imagine-loki · 3 years

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.....And that’s enough for you

TITLE: … and that’s enough for you ONE SHOT AUTHOR: ValarieRavenhearst2 ORIGINAL IMAGINE :Imagine getting blind drunk at a nightclub with your friends and Loki protesting that you should head home but you keep saying you’re ‘fine’. After the fourth time you stumble over he’s had enough and throws you over his shoulder and takes you home to look after you.

RATING:

NOTES: Was gunna make it nasty but ended being happy with cute fluff.

The atmosphere at the Avengers base was brimming with excitement as the day was drawing to a close. Friday. Just about all the cadets and agents were ready to hit the town and get the weekend started. Some members who live off the base are arriving back to pick up their friends after getting ready individually. Reverie, an intelligence agent whose role and position has been a constant roller coaster for the past two years, arrives back so that she can have pre-drinks with her friends (who are classed as the rowdy bunch on the base). She had been an active rising star field agent until she was injured in an explosion which resulted in her being benched in intelligence until her performance could be up to scratch again. But since she showed such exceptional skills in her benched field – nobody bothered to hurry the process along. Then along came a certain God of Mischief who needed a lot of one on one time. The job description was more of a Handler but it became a very flexible title. They needed someone who could earn his trust and keep him calm because the directors were all nervous of the murderous persona that was hidden underneath that charming smile. After it was revealed that his war crimes were influenced under the power of the Mind Stone everyone kind of had to just ‘forgive’ him. The exact details are on a need to know basis but currently he’s living on his own wing of the base so that he can be well monitored (just in case). If the Avengers aren’t doing a group mission then he generally stays on the base and keeps to himself. And since he’s generally well behaved the ‘handler’ position has become a flexible term, leaving Reverie’s career once again up in the air.

Reverie enters the common area of the living quarters where music is already pumping through the speakers as the girls get ready. They all come take a round of shots and some warm up selfies before Reverie goes to check on Loki for the night. She finds him quickly heading back to his quarters and he stops to admire his friend’s striking appearance. He seldom sees her in such a casual attire. Her low cut mini dress was positively revealing, and arousing. The skirt hem swishes around the middle of her thighs as she walks and the neck line scoops over the tops of her breasts to show as much cleavage as possible before they are practically popping out. Though the mesh sleeves and covering runs across her collar bones for that extra layer of security. Loki’s eyes sparkle mischievously with glee as Reverie dances through the hallway to stop him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” She sings, wrapping her arms over his shoulders, which she can reach with ease thanks to her stilettos.

“I was about to ask you the same thing?” He flashes her an accusing grin as his hands come to rest respectively above her waist.

“It’s Friday, come out with us.” She pleas and he mockingly rolls his eyes at her.

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.” He muses and she presses her body against his as she tugs gently on his neck.

“Please…” She pleads, not planning on taking no for an answer.

“I’m just so awfully busy at the moment.”

“Oh phft, we both know you are just going to go to your room and do nothing. Come on, come live a little.” She forces him to slow dance with her which evokes a small chuckle. “It’ll be fun.” She promises but again he declines as he twirls her out of his arms and keeps walking. “Loki, please?” She makes one last attempt, wanting to spend the night with her closest friend.

“Go have fun, Reve, you don’t need me for that.” He waves over his shoulder and she slumps in defeat, knowing that she can never pull him out quickly from a brooding state.

“Well we all know that’s just a lie.” She calls and she can hear him chuckle in the distance before she too, turns on her heel back to the party. She enters the common room again as everyone is ordering cars and taking shots. Katie, another intelligence officer looks at her with an encouraging smile moving her hands to ask whether or not the god of mischief would be joining. She shakes her head with a exaggerated pout before taking a shot. Katie matches her expression but doesn’t bombard her with questions, not wanting to upset her as she knows how much she actually wanted Loki to come. Another girl however loudly boos, commenting how good it was that one time Loki actually came out. Reverie remembers the time fondly, it had indeed been a sensational night. Though it had ended poorly the next day when her boyfriend had thrown a fit about her being so ‘friendly’ with the god. She had actually made out on a dare with two of her other friends as a joke but that was okay “’cause who doesn’t love girl on girl action’ as he put it. But god forbid Loki hugging her around the waist. Not that it was public knowledge yet, but Reverie’s boyfriend had broken up with her suddenly, leaving Rev reeling in confusion. She had only told Katie because she had caught her having a moment at work earlier in the week. So with her cupids wings on, Katie sneaks out to go get Loki. She sprints across the compound as fast as her high heeled shoes will allow before she begins knocking wildly on his door. When the stubborn bastard takes forever to open up the door she begins calling out. When he does open the door, he appears less than impressed – his scowl would have broken a weaker person.

“You have to come out.” She insists and he just rolls his eyes as he goes to berate her for acting like someone had been shot. “Listen, no on knows, but Reve and Nathen broke up.” She informs, still deciding whether or not she will regret spilling her friend’s secrets. “And you’re her friend so that means you have to come out and support her.” Loki’s eyes widen in contemplation – he can’t say he’s sorry. He hated that little punk but held his tongue for the sake of Rev. He wonders why she hadn’t told him herself? Katie can feel his demeanour softening so she continues to probe him. “Come on, it’ll be fun, she just needs to have a good time and she can’t fully do that unless she’s got her trickster god by her side.” He finally reluctantly agrees and before Katie can order them a cab he says he’ll drive as Midgardian alcohol doesn’t get him drunk any way. When the two late comers finally show up at the club Reverie is on her fifth drink and positively buzzing. When she sees Loki swimming through a sea of mortals to get to her she is absolutely elated; cheering with both her arms in the air. She hugs him tightly, trying not to spill her drink on him. She has to yell over the throbbing music even though she’s holding him.

“You came.” She observes with exuberance at her best friend’s sudden appearance, barely making out his appearance between each seizuring strobe light.

“I decided I needed to live a little.” His lips are practically on her ear as they speak. She pulls him on to the dance floor with the other girls who are just as pleased to see him; coming up to grind themselves up on him to welcome him to the dance circle. With every passing hour Loki notices Reverie trying to drink her body weight and tries to lightly encourage her to slow down. But she continuously boasts that she is fine and continues to dance like there’s no tomorrow. When she’s out of the safety of his embrace he watches as she stumbles spectacularly and he rushes to her thinking that for sure her ankle must be broken. But as he reaches her she’s already back up and bobbing like nothing happened. He already suspects that she’ll be in a world of hurt tomorrow. The night begins to merge into morning and the club shows no sign of slowing down, in fact it becomes fuller and Loki struggles to locate his troubled little friend in a sea of darkness as the strobe lights become disorientating. When he finally catches a glimpse of her, she’s bent up against a wall table taking shots with her friends whilst a group of guys come up behind her and try to start groping her as she dances. Startled by their actions she flinches to try and manoeuvre away but the crowding causes her to stumble. Before she can hit the ground Loki is pulling her back up and into him. With his free arm he slams one of the guy’s head into the table and throws him backwards; and in the strobing light no one is the wiser. Reverie begins to say that she is fine but Loki argues, throwing her over his shoulder and marching out. He piles her into the back seat of his car and switches on the child lock. Her body aches with relief as her legs begin to ache from exhaustion so she doesn’t persist with arguing but manages to sit herself up so she can see him in the rear view mirror.

“Where are we going?” A yawn overtakes her as her body relaxes in to the leather upholstery.

“I’m taking you home.” He tries not to sound too much like an overprotective parent and reminds himself not to chide her.

“Okay.” She shrugs easily, her mind happy to be able to fully shut off as it doesn’t have to worry about getting a way home. “I promise I didn’t invite you to be my deso.” She adds.

“I know.” He chuckles lightly, observing her sitting contently, her head rolling side to side with every turn and bump.

“When am I going to see you drunk?” She babbles. They’ve shared many drinks together and she’s never even seen him tipsy all because of his godly stature.

“Well unless we raid the cellars of Asgard, then never.” He jokes and she leans forward to rest her head on the edge of his seat.

“I’d do that with you.” She promises and wholeheartedly means it. “When do you want to go? We can go right now, sneak in through some tunnels, you dad would never even know we were there.” She begins to formulate and Loki laughs robustly, reaching over to pat her on top of her head.

“Oh I’m sure you would be such an inconspicuous little thief, stumbling around in those ridiculous stilts.”

“Look, buddy,” she hiccups, “we’re not all born with giraffe necks for legs, so we’ve got to get a little creative.” She continues to make him laugh all the way to her drive way, then he helps her out of the car with a supportive arm around her as they walk up the front path. After a brief moment of searching for her keys, Loki just waves his hand over the door and the locks open. “Thanks magic boy.” She mumbles as she stumbles over the threshold, throwing her purse over somewhere and pulling off her heels. Her legs scream in protest at the sudden change in angle and she almost wishes to just cut them off. Loki scoops her up before she can have a tantrum and carries her off to her room; placing her in the middle of her bed. With no energy to open her eyes she lays still, hearing Loki move about her room. “I don’t want to get ready for bed.” She whines as her limbs ache but her mind refuses to let her sleep with her face still caked with makeup. Luckily everything she needs should be within arm’s reach because she planned for this. “Will you help me?” She pleads as she stretches out her body and her arms become stuck above her head.

“Of course I will.” She feels him crawl on to the bed, climbing on top of her to straddle her hips. “What would you like me to do?” He questions, his tone playful as his fingers lightly caress up and down her sides. She giggles as she thinks of many things she would actually like him to do.

“Can you pass me the wipes, they should just be over there somewhere.” Her fingers point in the vicinity of her bedside chest as her arms go to sleep momentarily. Loki reaches across effortlessly and retrieves the packet, pulling a towelette out he begins wiping away the layer of makeup that covers her face starting at her chin. She giggles hysterically which causes his own laughter to rumble with hers. “It tickles,” she laughs and he tries to be more firm to cease her babbling amusement. The black glitter on her eyes is more hesitant to be removed and smudges all around her eyes.

“How on earth were you going to do this alone?” He questions as this task is becoming harder then he thought.

“I don’t know.” She mumbles with a drunken smile, she’s always gotten it off before. The stars just must align at this time. “You need to take the lashes off.” She informs and she would have laughed if she could see Loki’s startled expression.

“How?” His voice goes high as if he’s watching someone give birth.

“You just pull them off.” She tries to wake her arms up so that she can do it herself but it’s going to take a little bit of manoeuvring. Loki gently touches the lashes before gently trying to peel them off. When the first one begins to pull away he makes an uncomfortable groan which sounds like he’s watching someone have surgery on their eyeballs. “It’s not that bad,” she giggles, her arms coming back to life.

“Why on earth do you do this to yourself?” He mockingly questions as he can’t see a substantial reason behind this peculiar task.

“Too make myself look pretty.” She laughs as she’s able to force her eyes open again when he’s finished.

“Reve, you’re already stunning.” She looks up at him and becomes saddened by the adoration she sees in him.

“Nathan doesn’t think so.” She whispers with a mirthless smile as she tries not to cry.

“Then he’s blundering bilgesnipe.” He cups her face gently and kisses her forehead, “why didn’t you tell me you broke up?” He questions as he caress her hair gently.

“I don’t know.” She continues to whisper so she can’t hear the sadness in her tone, “it just makes me sad. And I wasn’t ready for everyone’s harsh opinions.” She shrugs as she avoids his gaze by playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to hide things from me.” He adjusts his body so he’s gently laying on top of her as he kisses her cheek gently. “I’ll always listen.” A small squeak emits in her throat as she wills away the tears; holding his head down so he doesn’t see her cry. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against her pulse. “He wasn’t worthy of you.”

“Thank you.” She sniffles and blinks away her welling tears. Content and happy in his arms she allows herself to drift off again and when she’s calm Loki finishes getting her ready for bed before joining her; laying down next to her with a protective arm draped across her.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #God of Mischief #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #.....and that's enough for you #ValarieRavenhearst2

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tiffdawg · 4 years

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Just Another Mission | An Agent Whiskey x Reader Fic

Gif: @javier-pena

Pairing: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.1K

Rating: T | Warnings: None. This is literally all fluff. Fake marriage and sharing-the-only-bed tropes included!

A/N: Hi! Please enjoy this trope-ridden, cliché-filled Agent Whiskey x reader story that popped into my head at 2am the other night and demanded to be written. I blame everything on Pedro Pascal.

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

... . ...

Just Another Mission

Since taking on the mantel of Agent Rosé at Statesman, you’d been partnered with Agent Whiskey on numerous missions over the years. On paper, this was just another mission. It really shouldn’t have been any different from the rest. The two of you were tasked with infiltrating an insider trading ring on Wall Street that was doing enough damage to the stock market for Statesman to take notice. It was certainly nothing out of your ordinary purview.

As such, you and Agent Whiskey were going undercover as the heads of an up-and-coming southern investment firm looking to expand up north. In order to give your assumed identities a bit more depth and secure invitations to the criminal group’s private social events, your handler back at HQ thought it would be helpful if the two of you went undercover as a married couple. A regular twenty-first century power couple, if you will. The men and women involved in the insider trading ring, for all of their faults, seemed to be family-oriented people. Or, at the very least, beach parties for the kids in the Hamptons and private dinners at the Upper East Side’s finest restaurants with spouses served as the perfect pretext to meet to trade secrets, negotiate deals under the table, and discuss illicit plans for the future.

It almost seems odd that after all of your shared missions, the two of you have never pretended to be married as part your cover story before. But, as you stand in the doorway of your luxurious Manhattan hotel room, you were starting to see the benefit of not posing as a couple. You were also beginning to suspect your handler might be playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

Of course, in order to maintain your cover, she only booked one hotel room for the pair of you. It bolstered your cover story with the hotel staff and in the likely instance you were followed back to your hotel, it would help you keep up appearances. And, of course, there’s only one bed.

“Well, Agent Rosé, we are supposed to be married,” Whiskey quips with a wink as he moves past you into the lush, gilded room. Clearly, your displeasure is written all over your face.

You roll your eyes at your hotshot partner’s receding figure before following after him. You do your best to shake yourself out of it because you really don’t have any time to worry about something as trivial as an unexpected, slightly inconvenient sleeping situation. Instead, you refocus on the mission, hoisting your overpacked suitcase onto the downy, king-sized bed. You dig out the dress keeper and peruse your options for a moment before selecting an elegant black gown with matching evening gloves for the gala you were attending that night. It would be your first appearance as Mr. and Mrs. Castillo and the perfect opportunity to charm your way into the inner circle of the one percent. That is your priority.

… . …

Hours later, after an evening of drinking the best champagne, dancing with your fake husband, and successfully socializing with your targets, you’ve finally returned to your lavish Midtown hotel for the night. With your gloved hand still resting on the crook of Whiskey’s elbow, he leads you from the elevator to the door of your shared suite. He’s recounting a story about a time he talked his way out of a rather precarious standoff involving international arms dealers, a former US ambassador, and the disgraced prince of a small European country. You’re so absolutely enthralled by his story and the silky southern accent that drips off of his every word that for a split second you forget that you’re not actually married to the man on your arm. The thought startles you and you quickly remove yourself from your fellow agent, brushing past him when he eventually swings open the door to your shared room.

Aside from the occasional question about something that was said at the gala, things are quiet as you both type up your mission reports for the day. He finishes first, which is surprising for someone who’s known to be a bit long-winded, and disappears into the ensuite. Perhaps you would’ve completed yours by now if you didn’t steal glances at your fellow agent in between every sentence. Your eyes are practically crossing when you finally submit your report. It’d been a productive day, but you are more than ready to sleep for the next eight hours.

“What are you doing?” you inquire with a light laugh. You’d just finished your nightly routine in the bathroom and emerged to find Whiskey attempting to stretch out his long form on the loveseat sofa.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he retorts back. “I’m going to sleep so I can be well rested for our champagne brunch with the Montgomery’s at the grand old Plaza tomorrow morning.” After a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand he amended with a sigh, “Or rather, later today.”

“On the couch?” you ask, playing with a loose string on the hem of your much-too-short sleep shorts.

“Well, where else would you like me to sleep, darlin’?” he asks in response. You don’t even flinch at the pet names anymore and instead the moniker pulls at something in your chest. Part of you thinks it’d be best for both of you to just leave it at that. He’s trying to be the gentleman and if he sleeps on the couch, all of your problems would be solved. Another part of you…well, you don’t want your partner running on fumes with a stiff neck while you’re in the middle of a mission, do you? Your eyes flick over to the bed and their movement doesn’t go unnoticed by the attentive agent. “Now, I know I may push my luck flirting with you, sweetheart, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. I’m fine spending the night here on the sofa.”

“Who said I would be uncomfortable, Jack?” Your words come out quieter than you intended, but you know he heard you. Rather than wait for him to reply, you crawl into bed, leaving plenty of space for him to join you. After a long moment of consideration, and a forlorn look back at the stiff, overstuffed sofa, he relents.

Unsure how to position yourself with your fellow agent in bed with you, you toss for quite a bit. When you roll over for the fifth time, finally deciding that facing away from him would be the best option, he reaches out and pulls you securely into his chest. You gasp, surprised at his bold move, but find that he feels warm and solid against you. You’re so close you can feel his heartbeat behind you, drumming a steady, spellbinding rhythm. His arm stays wrapped around your waist, almost reassuringly, and your body relaxes into his.

“You settled now?” he asks, and you can just about hear his grin.

“Yes, I am,” you whisper back.

“And you’re still comfortable with this arrangement?” His voice is lower, little more than a breath against the shell of your ear but he’s not flirting with you now. His usual confidence is gone, replaced by the slightest hint of nervousness.

“Very much so. I promise,” you answer genuinely, resting a light hand over his where it sits against your abdomen in the soft space below your ribs. His only response is a slight squeeze around your waist.

With that, your eyes close and you let yourself drift off with the sound of his steady breathing behind you to lull you to sleep.

… . …

Much of your second day in the city was spent wining and dining a pair of your targets, another husband and wife duo. She was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he was the sole heir to an old New England fortune. You and the Mrs. stole away for a bit in the afternoon to do some shopping on Fifth Avenue. While Statesman had allotted you quite the budget to keep up the appearance of a certain lifestyle, you weren’t sure how Champ was going to feel about your new Chanel pocketbook. It might not have been a strictly necessary purchase, but it was an excellent way to bond with one of your main targets.

“You and your husband make quite the pair,” she says while running her painted fingers over a stack of silk scarves at Saint Laurent. “He’s so obviously smitten with you.”

You preoccupy yourself with the rows of oversized sunglasses, hoping to hide your uneasiness at her comment. At least you and Whiskey were selling the married couple bit.

“I got lucky,” you reply with a lighthearted laugh.

That night, he’s already in bed when you come out of the bathroom. You can’t help but watch him for a minute from the threshold. He’s sitting up against the headboard wearing a white tee shirt that only accentuates his broad figure and, you presume, he’s reading over mission files on his tablet as his eyes scan the screen from behind thick rimmed glasses. You’d learned over the years that his swagger, while not entirely unwarranted, often covered Jack’s studious, serious side. He is an effective agent because of his hard work, diligent research, and careful planning. It isn’t a side of himself he showed many people, but you are among the privileged few.

After a moment, he meets your gaze from across the room. His eyes trail over your body, taking in your sleep shorts and oversized shirt, and a soft smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. You were well accustomed to his appreciative looks, but this was different, almost intimate.

“Well, darlin’, are you about ready for bed?” he asks. The question, while perfectly valid, struck you as something so wholesomely domestic.

You nod and offer him a small smile before slipping into bed next to him. He considers you for a moment longer then sighs to himself and tosses his tablet and glasses on the nightstand before switching off the light.

Cloaked in darkness, the two of you lie silently next to each other for a moment. Only the quiet hum of the air conditioning fills the room. But it’s anything but peaceful, and the longer you stir in silence, the worse this tension coiling between you and Whiskey gets.

“Jack?” you finally call out to him, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he responds. The sheets rustle as he turns to face you. You seek out his eyes in the darkness with only a sliver of moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains to help you.

“Will you hold me like last night?” you ask tentatively.

“Baby girl, I thought you’d never ask.”

You meet in the middle of the bed. His arms wrap around you as you lay you head on his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt with one hand in a vain attempt to pull him closer as if your bodies aren’t already perfectly flush. You breathe in his familiar scent, something deep and rich and completely Jack Daniels, and you nearly sob at the relief of finally feeling him against you again. You’re almost ashamed to say you’d been craving it ever since you untangled yourself from his grasp this morning. You don’t know how this happened; how this man, your coworker and partner, cast this spell over you so quickly. But as he strokes your back with a gentle hand, you start to accept that it was there for a long time. And you hope that he feels it, too.

… . …

With everyone presumably at work on a Monday in New York City, you and Agent Whiskey decide that’s the perfect time to do some investigative work at your targets’ private homes. It’s no easy task considering they all live in the best (and most secure) penthouse apartments and spacious townhomes money can buy in Manhattan, but things went surprisingly well with only a few minor hitches throughout the day. At least things were going well until you discovered your final mark had recently upgraded the security system for their Park Avenue townhome and then things went south. Fast.

You’d passed most of the evening arguing with your partner, albeit in hushed tones so as not to alert the other hotel guests. While you and Whiskey had your fair share of disagreements in the past, you both have a bit of a stubborn streak in you, this fight is particularly ugly.

Eventually, you decide you’ve had enough of him and so you lock yourself in the ensuite, hoping to drown your frustrations in a piping hot forty-five-minute shower. You spend most of your shower doing little more than standing directly under the stream of water and counting to ten repeatedly while attempting breathing exercises Ginger Ale had taught you in an effort to reign in your anger.

He’s gone when you exit the steamy bathroom and for a minute you worry. Then you quickly decide it’s not your place to worry about the man and you throw yourself dramatically onto the bed with the intention of forcing yourself to fall asleep before he returns.

When he finally slips back into the dark room an hour later, you’re still wide awake. Out of spite and stubbornness, you give him no indication of that fact. You are, however, surprised when he climbs into bed next to you. You figured tonight he really would opt for the uncomfortable couch rather than sleep next to you. After some time, you fall asleep with your backs turned to each other. You can’t help but think that the distance between the two of you has never felt greater.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later when you wake from a fitful sleep with the disheartening realization that you were both a little right and a little wrong. It leaves a horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach until you just can’t take it anymore. It’s the middle of the night, but you have to apologize right now. You reach across him to turn on the light and your light movements jostle the bed enough to wake him. Although, from the look on his face, you suspect he wasn’t sleeping well either.

Jack sits up so that he’s facing you fully and eyes you with an arched brow, patiently waiting for you to speak. Meanwhile, you’re chewing at your bottom lip and struggling to find the right words to express yourself now that you’ve got his attention.

“Do you know why I like working with you?” you finally ask, measuring each word carefully. “You’ve never doubted my abilities as an agent. Not because I’m a woman or because of any other stupid reason. You’ve always made me feel like your equal. Until today.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Truly, I am,” he answers seriously. His accent lacks the usual playful tone. “For a moment there I was sure I was going to lose you and I panicked, and I know now I should’ve listened to you. But please believe me when I say that I’ve never doubted you. Not once. The only thing I doubted today was my ability to keep you safe.”

“That’s not your job,” you assert.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Jack responds sternly. “You’re my partner.”

You nod, acquiescing. You couldn’t argue with that even if you wanted to; his safety is just as important to you. You take a deep breath before continuing. This is always the hardest part. “I’m sorry, too. For the way I reacted today. I was frustrated and it could’ve cost us this mission.”

“All is forgiven. You know that.” You sigh in relief when he hits you with one of his beaming smiles. The kind that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. “You gonna let me hold you now?” he asks as he relaxes back into the plush pillows, gesturing to the space beside him. “I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

“After two nights?” you ask teasingly with a soft laugh.

“Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time,” he says with a wicked grin. You can’t help but return the smile, knowing exactly what he means.

“Not yet,” you say coyly, summoning every ounce of courage you have before tentatively brushing your lips against his. You try to pull back so you can gauge his response, but there’s no need as he cups your face in his hands and brings your lips right back to his. This time the kiss is eager, hungry, and you return his enthusiasm with equal fervor. Your lips meld together perfectly and when his tongue slides into your mouth, you can’t help the little moan that escapes you.

When you finally pull apart, gasping for air, you both break out into a fit of laughter. This was probably a long time coming and yet it managed to catch you both by surprise. He places a few imperfect kisses, warped only by his smile, across your face and you fall back into bed with him.

The word love imprints itself into your mind as you hold his gaze, but you don’t speak it into existence. Not yet. Even though the look in his eyes tells you he’s thinking the exact same thing. You just know he is because after all these years together you can read Jack Daniels like a book. But this thing between you is new, precious even. Maybe it’s been there for a while, but you’re only just now ready to accept it and there’s no need to rush things. Better to let it mature in its own time because you know it’s going to age well, just like fine whiskey.

“Goodnight, Jack,” you whisper instead. You plant a light kiss on his soft lips, smiling as his mustache tickles you, before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“I’m definitely going to sleep well now, my sweet girl,” He murmurs as he hugs you against him. In that moment you feel so safe, so cherished, so incredibly happy. Until- “Even if you do snore.”

“I do not!” you gasp and try to wriggle free so you can glare at him. He only laughs and holds you tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around you.

“Yeah, you do. Soft, little snores,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s cute.”

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

Edit: find part two here!

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #my fic #fic: just another mission

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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Hi I would love it if you wrote a fic on Harry and Benny finding out about the other’s relationship with Beth

All Hope and No Pawns

Rating: T Word Count: 1382

Summary: A missing scene from Benny's apartment after the phone call to Beth in Moscow.

“Go beat him,” Benny urges.

When he drops the receiver back into its cradle, he unconsciously continues to grip it. His adrenaline’s spiked, his head’s lowered—for all his corporeal clues, it might be him about to face Borgov. There’s even a chessboard before him, styled with the final permutation he and the boys teased out from Beth and Borgov’s positions at the time of adjournment. Only so many ways this can go now. Damn, he just wishes he could watch it happen.

With a final squeeze, he releases the phone and steps away, rubbing a hand thoughtfully across his chin. He’s still uncomfortable moving too far from the phone. Crazy, since it could be hours before the match is decided. As Benny emerges from the depths of his own thoughts, he can hear the others, talking lowly and pacing while the excitement of blurting strategy down the line to Beth burns through them. It won’t last; soon, they’ll be crashing while he makes himself yet another cup of coffee, determined to stay awake. Another of today’s senseless notions: that his ability to remain sharp will somehow help Beth do the same.

He returns. He resets the board and plays out one possibility, all the way through to the fallen king. It makes him feel better. To drown out a skeptical note in Matt’s voice behind him, Benny collects the pieces in his hand and rolls them around, listening to the wood knock. He puts them in formation and plays through another version, searching the arrangement for gaps and his brain for the memory of Beth’s instincts. During their time together, starting with training and turning into… well, she learned to beat him faster and more soundly, but he learned a thing or two as well. Although the way Beth plays is still opaque and elusive, Benny has a sort of feel for it. He studies the board and tries to grip that old conviction of his—she sees things the same way he does.

“Will she call herself, do you think?” Hilton asks, tone as buoyant as ever.

“No,” Benny sighs. He turns away from the board. “She’ll be swarmed when it’s over.”

He doesn’t specify an outcome. The fucking Soviet players make him superstitious.

“She’ll have that asshole from the State Department with her too,” Mike says. “He’ll keep her on a short leash.”

“He’ll try,” Benny counters, provoking chuckles.

“Well, maybe Townes’ll stay between them,” Matt theorizes. “He managed it this morning.”

“Maybe Mr. State Department thought they were doing something he would’ve blushed to interrupt,” Hilton says.

“Beth and Townes?” Benny asks scornfully.

There’s no chance. He and Townes spoke before Townes flew out there, when he agreed to smooth the way for Benny’s call to get through without interception by Beth’s official government handler. Townes didn’t try to pull any bullshit territoriality where Beth was concerned—and he didn’t flinch when Benny did. (He hadn’t meant to, but a whole string of things had left his mouth as he verbally worked through his tips and encouragements for Beth, immediately afterwards hoping that Townes wouldn’t pass any of it on.)

“Aren’t they… close?”

“We shouldn’t be talking about them like this,” Harry says firmly. “Especially Beth.”

“If either of them has feelings for the other, it’s Beth,” Mike says.

“It’s true,” Matt adds, backing his brother up. “We were there when they met, more or less. She had such a crush on him.”

Benny frowns.

“Guys,” Harry pleads.

“Nobody’s saying anything against either of them! But don’t you think Townes is her type?”

“No.” Benny and Harry speak the same adamant syllable at the same moment.

Benny’s never wanted attention less than he does in the seconds immediately following, when the others’ eyes bounce back and forth between him and Harry. He twitches his wrist so his bracelet slides around it.

“Early lunch?” Matt tactfully proposes.

The rest of them mumble their assent and file towards the door, grabbing hats and jackets, stomping feet into shoes. Even Harry takes a couple steps. Just a couple.

“Are you coming?” he asks.

“Absolutely not,” Benny tells him, holding his ground.

Harry turns and nods to Mike, relieving him of the task of holding the door open. It’s a strange jerk of the chin, almost mournful, like he’s signaling to someone to go on ahead to the funeral reception while he lingers by the grave as the diggers fill it in. Now, Benny doesn’t have any plans to put this guy six feet under, but the implications of Harry having such a ready opinion on the sort of man Beth goes for aren’t exactly the kind to make Benny leap joyfully around his apartment. He exhales steadily from his nose.

“I heard you were training her,” he begins when they’re alone.

Harry—to his credit—doesn’t cower. He straightens his back and faces Benny directly.

“For a little while. Of course, she’d eclipsed me before we ever began, but I’d read more books.” He laughs softly to himself. “Not many more. A few.”

“I told Beth she needed a more mature trainer to get her ready for Paris.” Benny cocks his head as his teeth grind together. “Obviously, your time with her was plenty mature.”

“That’s not any of your business.”

Where Benny would keep his gaze trained on his (he hesitates to use the word ‘rival’) guest as things teeter between polite and heated, Harry looks away. It’s unnerving, actually, how he glances calmly around the apartment like a prospective renter. Must be seeing the space they’ve all been sequestered in for hours with fresh eyes.

“She’s been here,” he concludes.

“After Ohio.”

“Ah. After she beat you. And when she got here, I’m sure she kept beating you.” He doesn’t seem to mean it maliciously, so Benny doesn’t interject. “She beat me a lot too. It made her frustrated with me. I got over that. Mostly.”

“I’m not even close. To getting over it,” Benny clarifies.

He meets the stare of Harry’s round eyes with his hands on his hips and wonders if he’s just put himself in a bad position, presented a vulnerability to be exploited. Harry could miss it, like he missed his chance to take the Lexington final back from Beth when she castled. But then, Harry could also be more sensitive to human interactions than he is to astute pawn placement.

“That makes sense,” Harry allows. “You two are much more evenly matched.”

So, he is aware that they’re not really talking about chess.

“What was your mistake?” Benny surprises himself by asking. Harry looks surprised too, but Benny shrugs.

“It was a… visualization problem. I never knew what was coming with her and gave my own plan away too early. Do you love her?”

Benny places a hand on the table to anchor himself against the blunt question. Jesus, Harry does have an issue with subtlety.

“Yeah,” he admits after a solid minute. “I might.”

“Does she love you?”

Blow after blow with this guy, trying to take him to the canvas like he’s Muhammad Ali! Best Benny can guess, it’s a petty hit from someone who knows he’s already lost. Harry doesn’t want Beth because he knows he’s not gonna get her, but his question has this insulting presupposition—there’s just something in his tone that assumes a certain answer. It’s a last wild swing at the man who could still have a shot at the happiness Harry wanted for himself. Though Benny watches him warily, there’s nothing he can do, no way to regain his mystery. They’ve circled each other and determined the major weaknesses.

Benny shakes his head.

“That’s the one thing I don’t know.”

Harry regards him too long, then shrugs his coat on. He climbs the stairs unhurriedly and goes out after Hilton and the other members of Beth’s emergency chess contingent. A group of fools who are probably deceiving themselves to think they’re providing her with anything she couldn’t figure out on her own. She’s exceptional. She’s beat them all before; that’s why it’s her over there in Moscow and not one of them. So many, many invariable miles and possible outcomes from here.

Benny makes a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat by the phone.

#thanks for the prompt Anon!#my writing #The Queen's Gambit #Benny Watts #Harry Beltik

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

hi parental goose (should I say bunny?) figure I am here to request 😌🤘 can I request some amusement park date hc for kazunari? ♡♡♡♡ I love how you put songs you listened to while writing so I, your goose ally, will suggest a song! I really recommend listening to "She Looks So Perfect" by 5 Seconds of Summer since it gives off summer vibes and specially, kAZOO VIBES ♡♡♡ THANK U ILYYY ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

erisu 🥺 hi baby how are you everyone this is my Daughter my Baby my Other Child (lyd is the other baby) ♡ how r u did you sleep well here is *All My Love* of course you can request!!! i would do anything for you!!! but, thank you for recommending a song~ it is ON REPEAT as we speak!!! i remember being obsessed with this song when it came out! thanks for the nostalgia :D

summary: there was a rumor that couples who went on the ferris wheel together would be in love forever

warnings: multiple mentions of food

author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERISU !!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M SO HAPPY YOU’RE A YEAR OLDER YOU’RE GROWING UP SO FAST ♡ I LOVE YOU (so. much. hand. holding)

word count: 3,562

music: she looks so perfect – 5sos, hey mama! – exo–cbx

all the luck in the world.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

this was it, the biggest fair in the whole country was this weekend and this weekend only. you guys had to go

“yo~ we gotta go!!!” kazunari practically pushed the flyer in your face, not giving you time to read the colorful, bright font as he excitedly rambled about it being his dream to even attend such an iconic event

it didn’t take much convincing before he had whipped out two admission tickets from his pocket, as if he already knew you’d be on board with such a fun date with the coolest boyfriend ever!

(seriously... if you said no... he might’ve cried by himself, he just wants to check off a bucketlist goal with his favorite person and best friend ever!)

(“wah~ i’m so #cool right? give me a kiss to prove it!!!” when you actually did it, he was quiet for about three seconds before he started cooing and sending an attack of affection your way)

you two planned your outfits ahead of time (the only thing he bothered planning), with kazunari rummaging through your closet and throwing pieces he thought would coordinate behind him (ultimately landing on your face).

he was being your personal fashion consultant (you didn’t question him, he was an art student who knew how to dress!)

throughout the entire process, you strutted out of the bathroom like it was a runway with your ever chaotic and supportive boyfriend clapping. he had a questionable french accent as he complimented you without end

“my chérie, you are absolutely darling!” kazunari flipped the end of a feather boa over his shoulder dramatically as he had on a pair of sunglasses (how he found that in your room was beyond you). he sat at the edge of your bed with his legs crossed, pretending to write critics down on an invisible notepad as he feigned fainting out of shock

kazunari ran over to pull you in a hug as soon as you found one of his options perfect. he blabbered about how cute you were and how he was so lucky

you tried processing how your boyfriend had so much energy. he was so dramatic, but you never felt unconfident or nervous to be yourself around him because kazunari loved you for who you were!

when you collectively agreed on the best outfit, kazunari worked to find something of his own to match you to be that couple at the amusement park (it was hilariously coincidental he almost had the same items)

(the #ootd on instagram that day got him so many likes when he included multiple mirror pictures with you doing ridiculous poses. he captioned the picture with so many happy faces and heart emojis)

(yes, he had his own story category reserved just for your pictures)

(yes, you also were the person behind a majority of his posts online and was credited every single time without fail) (you were known as “kazu’s photo guru”)

“kazu... are you sure you don’t want to plan ahead?” you asked carefully as he just scrolled through his phone, disrupting his rant about having the most iconic date of all time. kazunari just laughed, shrugging without looking up

“don’t worry~ everything will be fine!” kazunari exclaimed as he asked his followers recommendations for rides to check out. you knew he wouldn’t change his mind with his “happy–go–lucky” attitude

you just hoped the drive to the park wouldn’t be a nightmare since it would be so crowded

on the ride up, you two screamed pop lyrics at the top of your lungs no matter how busy the road was (you two never noticed, but at stop lights, you’d be the center of attention as kazunari just had to fail at a whistle note with the windows down)

the moment kazunari took control of the aux cord, you knew it was going to be a party until you arrived. you two sang together so much that you knew which parts were yours and effortlessly bounced off each other, flowing naturally and laughing nonstop

although kazunari went with the flow, he had the luck of the world on his side the day when you guys showed up. he had managed to find parking, got in line fast, and made it into the amusement park like it was second nature

(you knew of horror stories where the lines were way too long in the blazing heat, kids crying about not winning, indifferent employees not caring at all... how did kazunari manage to repel all the bad from your life and make it as easy as possible?)

it was as if his positive energy about the whole day manifested the universe to give him the easiest entrance ever (or it was his insanely charming charisma that got him off the hook with just about anything)

you two even got a discount on your tickets, believe it or not! somehow, one look at you two and the seller knew you were a couple (the matching outfits definitely didn’t give it away) and gave you extra for “young love”

(kazunari was so ecstatic, you were almost worried he was going to kiss the employee right then and there. you had to drag him away before he got on first–name basis with everyone)

when you two got your wristbands and went to the grounds, kazunari let out the loudest squeal of excitement ever and had to stop himself from jumping up and down (just bouncing on his heels like an impatient child)

“O. M. G!!! we’re gonna have the best date ever!” kazunari shouted, holding onto your hand as he took in the entire view, with so much to do for the entire day

booths were set up with so many fun (but rigged) games with yelling handlers, advertising their set–up to passerbys with infectious energy. crowds of children were rambling in awe about the animal display (like the world’s biggest pig apparently, who knew?). screaming passengers were swinging over your heads from the multitudes of crazy rides only the country’s biggest fair could have

you were so busy taking in the view of kazunari’s excited big eyes and huge grin that you missed the mischevious spark glinting back at you

when he craned his head back at the tallest ride there was, that contraption that somehow brought tens of people in the air just to swing them around in a circle, you suddenly came back to earth

“—wanna bet?” kazunari finished, tilting his head towards you with a competitive edge. you raised an eyebrow, not bothering to question it when you swung your arm around his shoulders and smirked back

“bet.”

suddenly, you were being dragged to the games section, passing by the crowds easily when kazunari was always by your side. it was as if the road parted for him when he reached a display with balloons pinned to the wall

“i know you didn’t hear me, which is why i’m going to win~” kazunari teasingly hip–bumped you, passing the necessary amount of tickets to the game runner which they accepted graciously. you just shrugged, picking up the fake plastic rifle they let players use

(“was i too handsome?!” kazunari joked, missing how you actually agreed)

“yeah, yeah. i don’t need to know, i’m gonna win.” you winked, making kazunari swoon as he lifted his arm to his forehead with a dramatic flair

“my hero!” kazunari called out as you readied yourself to shoot the balloons, knowing the odds were gravely against your favor

“what am i shooting for again?” you asked, putting your cheek against the gun. kazunari just slid up to next to you, his lips brushing your ear with a smile

“if you lose, we’re riding the swings together~” kazunari giggled and you fired, hitting one balloon with satisfaction. kazunari wrapped his arms around your waist, reading his chin on your free shoulder despite you trying to focus

“and if i win?” you asked, not bothering to entertain your clingy boyfriend as you hit another balloon. even the person running the game seemed anxious about your chances at crushing the whole thing

“we can do whatever you want.” kazunari breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on your neck with a laugh when you flinched. you hit your last shot though, exhaling in relief when the attendant begrudgingly gave you a large–sized prize

(it was a super triangle, you definitely knew who you were giving this to when you got to the dorms)

“you know what, i think we’re both winners.” kazunari tried to laugh off, but you didn’t let him get away that easy when you grabbed his hand quickly

“nu–uh! you know where we’re going!” you giddily pulled him towards another game, leaving kazunari holding onto the super triangle with great difficulty as you two played game after game

(you were right; kazunari was an universal favorite as he somehow managed to swindle the toughest of games with sheer luck)

(when a kid began asking him to play a game for them, you knew you had to stop making your boyfriend do outrageous things just for a stuffed animal)

(at least kazunari got a cool boomerang story on his snapchat of him throwing a ring onto a bottle)

“make a deal with me~” kazunari begged, holding way too many prizes to count in between his arms as you looked around for more. he was about to give up but as he caught sight of two double doors with a neon sign, he knew you’d agree immediately

“if i win every game in the arcade, we’re going on the carnival rides.”

when you accepted the deal, you regretted it. somehow, you forgot how kazunari always had everything go his way

it was like you forgot all about the rides outside. you two entered an air–conditioned, hipster arcade and had to play everything despite dropping the coins everywhere (“please keep them in the cup!” “it’s not my fault!!!”)

you name it, kazunari probably won it. fuseball, air hockey, pac–man, nintendo crane machines, zombie shooters, motorcycle/driving simulators, he won it all just for the hell of it. you’d never admit it, but he really was just the best at everything he did

although the games were fun, it was time to fulfill your end of the deal (as deserved since kazunari had no reason to go as hard as he did at the ddr pad inside the arcade)

after storing all the stuffed animals into the cramped back of the car with kazunari apologizing to them profusely (“dad is so sorry! we’ll be back soon~ promise!”), you two returned to have the biggest adrenaline rush of your life

any rollercoaster kazunari saw, he wanted to go on right away. lines felt like nothing when all he did was talk them away and get so excited seeing the ride rush by

kid–specific rollercoasters had to prevent him from going (“i’m sorry, sir, but your height exceeds the maximum” “what???” kazunari would feign shock as if he wasn’t five heads taller than the whole line)

he wanted to try it all since he never had this experience before! he wanted to make all these memories with you even if it meant yelling his head off as long as you were by his side

(seriously, one ride you had squeezed your eyes shut but heard the most high–pitched scream ever. you thought it was someone else, but of course it was your boyfriend)

you didn’t mind that much, since you used the whole ride time to grip kazunari’s hand tightly and make sure his hat stayed on the entire ride (why he wore one was questionable, anything for fashion, you guess)

ironically enough, you had done about ten rides with dizzying effects before ending it with the swings, the tall ride he initially wanted to go on with you. when you looked up at the full height, you gulped after being strapped to the two–person swing (how was this safe?!)

it was the first ride you weren’t exactly comfortable with, but when you looked at your seat partner, kazunari had two thumbs up with a big dumb grin. you instantly calmed down before the ride started

“i love you!” kazunari exclaimed as the ride began pulling you up further from the ground, holding onto your hand and looking up at the blue sky with the giddiest expression ever

it was the first time he had said he loved you out loud before, but before you could process it, all you could do was scream when the ride began rotating you around in a circle

(you had to stop him from taking out his phone, reminding him the post wasn’t worth it)

(though, kazunari did drop his hat this time. he really was lucky to find it again)

“okay, okay,” kazunari stumbled off the ride, exaggerating his lack of balance by holding onto you, his excitement not even decreasing a little after so many hours of fun

“food time! my muse needs a snack!” kazunari had whipped out the crumpled map someone gave him from his pocket, quickly locating the area without being delayed (he was always good at directions, it must’ve been why he was so popular at these types of social events)

somehow, kazunari always knew what you needed at every exact moment. you were thankful he couldn’t hear your stomach growl over the sound of the general atmostphere

when you guys arrived at the food hall, it was definitely the greatest prize of all (sorry to the stuffed animals who were defintely overheating in the parking lot)

all the best chefs and caterers came together for this event with the most outrageous food options of all time. fried oreos, cheese curds, cotton candy, caramel apples, churros, basically anything you imagined, it was most likely 1000x better with some funky twist

you never had to be nervous ordering because kazunari always stepped up and spoke, letting you hold his hand as if to reassure you he had the situation handled. he would somehow form a meaningful friendship with someone within two minutes of ordering and got extras, hurrying over to a table with every option possible

(yes, he took a photo of the whole spread and added ridiculous hashtags only savvy internet users knew) (he also posted on his private an embarrassing candid picture of you drooling at the food)

kazunari liked feeding you whatever he was eating, always encouraging you to try new things but respecting your boundaries at the same time just in case you weren’t up for it

(“oh, you don’t want to? no big deal~ just happy to be with you!” he’d say, wiping your mouth with a napkin regardless and just being content with you not being hungry)

while eating, you noticed a pattern of kids walking by, pointing at kazunari like he was a legend

“is that the guy who won basically every prize back at the games? wow~” they whispered, not realizing kazunari was extremely observant as his ears perked up at his name. he had turned to wave at the children, but they ran off

“you know...” kazunari started, and you already knew what he was gonna say as you rolled your eyes fondly, knowing how big his heart was, especially for innocent children who kept getting scammed by games

“yes, we have no need for most of the giant stuffed animals.” you pretended to sigh, as he quickly got up, giving you a quick kiss as thanks on your cheek as he ran back to the car

for the next hour or so, you and kazunari managed to give out most of your prizes (except anything triangular) to the children who had been staring, all of their parents or guardians thanking you guys profusely for your gift (though, there were some who were staring at kazunari suspiciously)

(as if they should be afraid of a liberal arts college student)

“it’s no big deal~ no problem!” kazunari always said, truly finding it not bothersome at all to share. you always admired that about kazunari, his natural instinct to care for everybody and make people smile. at a distance

you leaned against a light pole with a small smile as you watched kazunari crouch down, ruffling some kid’s hair as he gave them a prize

when he instinctually looked for you, he smiled back like you were the only person at the park

suddenly, you wished you said “i love you, too” before back at the swings

after indulging, you two shared an ice cream cone on the hot summer’s day as the lights began to turn on and the sun set. this was apparently the best part of the fair, where all the colors would pop like fireworks and the night breeze was your friend

you two had basically done everything at this point, even being the amusement park’s robin hoods with your wins. the arcade had both your names at the top of every digital leaderboard, the ride controllers had seen you too many times to count, and you two had digested an unhealthy amount of snacks that you’d regret the next day

what else could you do? it was already the most perfect date, there was nothing else except...

this time, you leaned your head back and saw a circular shape blocking the sunset: the ferris wheel

you turned to kazunari, who was already admiring the way the light hit your face. he wanted to paint you right then and there before you ruined the serene moment by biting your ice cream (why?!)

“i bet i can make it to the ferris wheel the fastest, wanna bet?” you questioned and you never saw kazunari grin even bigger as his eyes lit up with recognition

“bet!”

you two raced to the ferris wheel, much to the chagrin of every carnival–goer ever who dodged your fast advances. you got to the line first, skidding to a stop and nearly bumping into the person ahead of you as kazunari whacked into your back with an “oof!”

“awww, what do i have to do now that i totally lost?” kazunari pouted, but you just giggled and poked his cheek, not noticing how he became slightly flustered from your touch (you could never tell, it was a hot day)

“go on it with me.” you offered and he didn’t even think twice before he agreed, realizing this was the ride he’s been waiting to go on with you this entire time

(kazunari remembered the only other thing he really researched was this ferris wheel, where a rumor around it stated two people who went on it would be together forever)

when you two were allowed into one of the trolleys, you two sat close like always with your head on his shoulder. the orange light made everything feel like a fantasy, like this was a daydream. you didn’t want to wake up as kazunari squeezed your hand the moment the wheel started increasing

slowly but surely, you two were going around in circles as you savored the moment, wanting nothing more than to be here with kazunari forever

“you know... i never thought i’d be here.” kazunari started and you hummed, encouraging him to keep going as his thumb traced circles around your palm

“i didn’t have many friends growing up, so it would’ve been totes not cool to come to these things alone!” kazunari tried to play it off as some joke, but you knew better, just lowering your hand to his lap and waiting for him to talk

“but... now... i have friends? good—no, great friends! and... i have you. i’m living, and i have you.” kazunari trailed off, like this was a revelation he hadn’t realized before. the quietness between you two dragged on too long, you wondered what he was thinking

you opened your eyes and kazunari was already looking at you again with a soft smile, not bothering to notice anything else but you, like he wanted to remember this forever

you two reached the top of the ferris wheel, the wheel stopping to give you two a moment by yourself with the sunset

“i love you.” kazunari said again, and you didn’t hold back this time

“i love you, too.” you whispered, afraid to break the moment. but kazunari laughed, and you were laughing, and it was like the funniest joke ever as you two tried to maintain your composure

even as you two got off, you couldn’t let go of him as he did the same. these were the memories child–kazunari always dreamt of, and they were so much better than he ever imagined

after saying goodbye to all his new friends, kazunari couldn’t stop smiling as he drove home, with you sleeping beside him in the passenger seat

he turned off his music this time and carefully watched the road. taking one hand off the wheel, kazunari took your own and kissed your knuckles again and again with love

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” kazunari said, like he couldn’t say anything else but that

(kazunari posted a shot where he held your hand in front of the sunset on the ferris wheel with the caption: “best date ever”)

kazunari really had luck on his side if he was in love with you, maybe he had the ferris wheel to thank for that!

#miyoshi kazunari #kazunari miyoshi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#a3! actor training game #act! addict! actors!#a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #a3 kazunari

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter Fourteen

Thank you @statell for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapter at AO3

Chapter Fourteen

Claire turned her back on the chaos around the stalls at Churchill Downs as she studied the stats of the horses she would race against. She had tremendous anxiety and Runner was crashing into her consciousness pestering her to race him, telling her he was the winner, asking where Sham was. Something in Claire broke;

“Goddammit Runner, stop it, I need to concentrate!”

Every head on her team turned to look at the woman who never raises her voice. It was an oddity and registered in their minds as only that, an oddity. Jason looked from Runner to Claire and wondered what he was supposed to stop doing to her since they were ten feet apart.

Jamie ran his hand down her back and looked closely at her, “are ye alright lass?”

“I’m okay, sorry Jamie, I am so tense like I’m having an anxiety attack.”

“Will ye walk wi’ me?” He took the program from her and pulled her off the corral bars. I think ye need to see this lass.”

She was still trying to read the program as Jamie pulled her outside where the sun blinded her. She saw nothing but a black blob in front of her eyes, but she could hear the crowd calling her name, yelling Midnight Runner. As her vision cleared, she saw so many fans. There had to be hundreds of them, waving to her and trying to get her to autograph something. One fan stuck a magazine into her hands and held out a pen, pointing to the pictures of her last race and many others before that. She signed as many as she could, noticing the picture of her and Runner in Florida with the ray of sun coming out of the cloud lighting up her embrace. She was stunned at the signs and banners for Midnight Runner. She looked up at Jamie with astonishment and he smiled at her.

Jason came out with Runner looking fancy in his matching Fuchsia checked hood and the crowd went crazy seeing the superstar horse. Jamie gave her a leg into the saddle and waited for that smile. This was the end of the prep races. If she won today, she was a contender for the Triple Crown nomination but more importantly to Jamie, one race away from quitting.

Claire watched Jamie fade into the crowd feeling a strange disconnection from his expression. She wondered what he was thinking about to look that way.

Runner was the last horse to load and was coming out next to the rail, a coveted starting position. He reared coming up to the gate and tried to buck as well. He refused to load, and the deafening crowd was starting to unravel Claire. The handler forced him in and now he was pissed off. Claire tried to get his attention, but he ignored her banging into the sides of the gate and trying to rear. Claire grabbed a handful of mane and suggested he use that energy beating the other horses.

When the gate slammed open Runner jumped out, ahead of the other horses surprising Claire. He turned on the speed right from the start and Claire tried to hold him back fearing he would have nothing left as the race went on. She felt him accelerate about every quarter mile running alone, several lengths ahead of the next horse. Claire tucked in and remained quiet with an empty mind. This was Runner's decision and she felt him accelerate again on the home stretch. He won easily staying ahead of the other horses who never caught him.

“Good job Runner.”

The rest of their time at the track was like walking through a fog. After the winner’s circle picture, Michael ran up behind her and threw her back up in the saddle telling her to ride up and down the home stretch, remove her helmet and wave to the crowd. She did as he said with a plastered-on smile. When she finally was led into the stall area she dismounted again, Jason took Runner, and Jamie steered her to a bench and made her sit.

He looked closely at her face, dirt-covered every inch except where her goggles were pressed against her head. With her elbows on her knees, it looked like she might fall over. Jamie flagged Michael down and talked a bit before taking her hand and pulling her to Michael’s car.

Claire said nothing during the drive. Jamie kept his hand on her knee and kept talking about the remarkable race feeling more and more worried about her. She didn’t seem to comprehend everything he was saying. When they stopped at a traffic light Jamie noticed her hands were shaking quite hard. He pulled a U-turn right there and took her to emergency. People aren’t used to seeing a female jockey in silks, looking like she just stepped off the track. They got a lot of looks from those in the hospital waiting room.

A woman passed by on her way out and stopped to talk to Claire asking if she raced today. Claire had a vague smile but otherwise did not respond or comprehend that a question had been asked.

Jamie was frantic now and ran to the nurse's station describing her symptoms. A wheelchair was brought out and Claire was taken directly to an examination room. The soft-spoken doctor asked Claire a dozen questions to which she answered none.

“Excuse me for stating the obvious Claire, but you are a jockey and you raced today, is that right?”

Claire looked at him with wide eyes and then she tried to lay down. Jamie was ready to lose his mind as he stood next to her and spoke softly reminding her that she won today. He looked at the doctor with complete helplessness.

“She has some mental confusion that will clear up quickly if I’m right about blood sugar being the cause. Someone will be in soon to take blood and then we’ll give her some juice.” He pulled a pamphlet out of the wall holder and handed it to Jamie and then left them alone.

“Whatever’s made ye sick lass, we’re gonna fix it, I promise.”

It seemed like an eternity that Jamie waited for the return of the doctor. Claire slept quietly and Jamie paced until he thought he would explode into a million pieces. The pamphlet described a condition where blood sugar dips below the level where the body can function normally. Easily treated with high sugar foods like juice followed by complex carbohydrates like pasta. On his third reading, the doctor came and woke Claire. She sat up and Jamie noticed her color was better and she seemed more alert. The doctor asked her several questions like her name, age, where she was born, looking to Jamie for confirmation now and then.

“Tell me about the race today.”

“We won, easily.”

“I am releasing you to a big pasta dinner eaten as soon as possible and before you are released, another juice box, please. Going forward you must eat throughout the day, small meals every two hours and always have something in your purse to eat or drink that will raise your blood sugar quickly. A nurse will go over all of this before you leave.”

Jamie dropped into a chair feeling relieved. The instructions for Claire’s condition sounded easy, she just had to include juice boxes when she was away from home. It was possible this was an isolated episode and it was possible there were underlying reasons for her blood sugar to crash. They would wait and see.

Jamie turned on his cell phone and there were numerous messages from Michael and Jason. Something must have happened to Runner! Jamie excused himself to run outside to call.

“Jamie, thank God. We are stuck at the racetrack. Something is wrong with Runner. When we loaded him in the trailer he freaked out and we barely got him out before he bashed his brain from rearing. He trashed the trailer, but I think it will get him home.

“I will see if I can speed up Claire’s release and we’ll get there right away.”

Jamie talked to the front desk about an emergency and Claire was released in twenty minutes. Jaime filled her in as they left and watched for cops on the road while he sped back to Churchill Downs.

They could hear Michael yelling at Runner when they walked into the stall area. He sounded stressed. They could hear vicious kicks to the walls on the stall and Claire started running.

“Runner!”

The colt stopped in his tracks and whinnied low in his throat. He walked to Claire as she opened the stall door and entered. He dropped his head for a scratch before he smelled her all over. He was sending images of him running with an empty saddle and then the same with her in the saddle. She cradled his head and hummed to him.

“Now I’ve seen everything.” Michael shook his head side to side with a scowl on his face. “What the hell Claire? He travels without you all the time so why turn into Diablo today?”

“I wasn’t feeling well during the race, he must have sensed it. Maybe that’s why he broke out early and ran for his life. Maybe he ran for mine. Let’s get you home to your girlfriend big guy.”

Claire snapped a lead on the colt and walked him outside and then into the trailer without incident. She snapped him into the cross ties and hugged him, “thank you for worrying about me Runner.”

Jamie looked at the dents in the trailer from one huge pissed off horse. He could do the work himself especially with three months of rest coming up. When he looked inside the trailer, he saw a very passive stallion ready for transport. He shook his head.

Jason went over the colt's legs inch by inch looking for cuts or welts from kicking just about everything in sight. He thought about how different his race was today, busting out ahead of the other horses and ran lengths ahead for the whole race. Claire didn’t stand in her stirrups when they won, she didn’t point at them with her crop and she was irritable all morning like Jason had never seen her. He looked at Runner, now docile in his stall. It happened the moment he saw her..the kicking and rearing stopped that second and he put his head in her arms. Jason shook his head and snapped out of it reminding himself that horses don’t talk or listen, and they certainly can’t diagnose health problems.

“Goodnight Runner.”

Jamie left Runner in Jason’s capable hands for his post-race routine and feeding. He was anxious to get Claire home and make pasta for her while she scrubbed off the hours-old dirt from the race. He was trying to relax about hypoglycemia but the change in her was so profound it was difficult. He poured the pasta into bubbling water and took out a jar of sauce to warm in the microwave. Things would get better now with a long break ahead and if she had another episode, he would pull Runner from the super-six and retire him to stud, letting Claire go back to her life as a veterinarian.

Claire peered at the pot and smiled at Jamie. She looked fresh and clean and smelled like heaven. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him and was scooped up into his arms and laid on the couch where he devoured her in kisses. When he finally stopped, Claire was breathless and her eyes asked for more.

“It’s time to eat Sassenach. It’s what the doctor ordered and will most likely taste like garbage because I canna cook. You be a good lass and eat as much as you can, aye?”

They ate in silence for a while, made small talk, and discussed the race while Jamie did the dishes.

“It’s still early, would you give me a tour of your customization's? And start with how you found the time.”

Jamie was thrilled she was interested as he took great pride in his work and Isobel always hated it.

“In the beginning, it was a shell of a house really. Someplace to sleep and get out of the rain while I worked on the compound and buying stock. The broodmares and the stallions were young when I bought them, I had one mare of breeding age but that didn’t require a lot of my time. So I worked on the house. I hired local artisans to create the mantel and second banister up to the office. I bought wood for the office furniture, the steps, and the sun on the ceiling. Another artist for the shower in the guest bathroom upstairs. She set all the tiles out, painted the picture on them, and then cured them somehow to stand up to water. I love that picture of the Kentucky sunrise.

Jamie kissed her, “bored yet?”

“The chess table in the living room is Black Walnut inlay, how did you find a piece to fit so perfectly with your wood?”

“I made it, and my desk upstairs.”

Claire watched him while he talked and fantasized about his wide soft mouth on her. The kissing before dinner had a lingering effect.

“Sassenach?”

When she looked up her eyes were smoldering and her cheeks were flushed. Jamie picked her up and carried her upstairs where he kissed her with a purpose that thrilled both of them. Claire was starving for him and tried to remember the last time they had sex. She couldn’t remember and stopped trying. She lavished her love on him so sweetly at first, but her arousal was making her needy and she clutched at Jamie pulling him to cover her.

“I’m afraid I am a bit far gone for dalliance at the moment.”

Claire lifted her knees at Jamie’s side and made it clear she wanted him inside her. He watched her eyes as he moved slowly deeper into the wet warmth of her body. Each stroke pulled long, low moans from them both. Jamie flipped his body under hers without separating and he pushed Claire’s upper body against his raised thighs and spread her knees wide. When she found her rhythm, he touched her bud and stroked it lightly until she was ready to explode. She pitched forward with hands on his chest and let him drill her before sending her into orbit.

Jamie pulled Claire to his side and covered her face with kisses. Before he left to lock up the house, he pulled the quilt up. By the time he returned she was fast asleep. It had been a long and trying day.

Later in the week, Jamie made two trips to the airport, one for Michael and one for Jason. Both were excited to go home for the holidays. The following day, he was going stir crazy from the silence of his missing team. He was amazed he was done with his work by mid-afternoon. He thought about what mischief he could talk Claire into as he sifted quickly through the mail. He opened a large manila envelope from Nosh, a name he didn’t remember and out came three volumes of Sports Illustrated magazine and a handwritten note from the reporter to enjoy. Jamie thumbed through until he found the articles and pictures of Runner, the Superstar.

He grabbed the magazines intending to run up to the house and show Claire when he saw an official envelope from the Eclipse Award. He opened the letter and started reading as his smile creased his cheeks and his feet started running.

Claire was overjoyed to see him home, especially when he picked her up and spun her around before dropping her into a chair at the breakfast bar. He spread the magazines out and helped her find the pages of pictures and articles about Runner’s races and wins. She was over the moon until Jamie dropped the letter in front of her.

“Runner has won the Eclipse award mo chridhe, its the highest honor in horse racing and he is the second two-year-old in history to win! He is Horse of The Year! And it's all your fault.”

Jamie kissed her passionately and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Thank ye Claire. What ye’ve done has placed yer names in annals of racing history. I am grateful to ye both.”

He kissed her again and invited her for an early walk with the horses to enjoy a peaceful end to this amazing day.

“You never told me about how you fell in love with me. I would like to hear it.”

Jamie looked at his boots and smiled at the memory. “It started the day of the poisoning when ye fell into me and cried yer eyes out. In the middle of a huge chaotic effort to save horses ye just collapsed against me and sobbed. Ye were so small when I held ye to me. Ye were such a miracle to me. I decided right then if my whole life purpose was to be in that spot, at that time, so ye could cry into me I was okay with that.”

“The next incident I canna forget was watching ye set up a race against Runner. So patient ye were cause he kept trampling your line in the dirt. Watchin ye run and him dashing off to pass ye was so funny! I can’t remember how many days or weeks I had to hide when ye came to work with the colt but most of the time I was watchin ye not him.”

“We talked a bit at the rail one night with no one else around. I knew ye were different from other lasses I had known because ye were so calm, comfortable in yer own skin, my equal. There is nothin like a confident, beautiful woman. Once ye started ridin Runner I would help you with his bath and we would walk the fields and talk, remember? Ye knocked my socks off lass.”

“That’s the clean version but I’d be happy to share the fantasies I had while I was fallin for ye. C’mon Sassenach, let me tell ye in detail what we did in my head.”

Jamie was mauling her while he talked making Claire giggle uncontrollably and push him away. She reached for Runners halter and unsnapped the lead Jamie was holding, then did the same to Porcelain, slapping them both on the rump to get the party started.

It was like watching poetry in motion, the two of them galloping through the bluegrass. They sat on the fence and watched them as the sun was setting. When they walked toward the fence to leave the pasture two galloping horses stopped dead a few feet from them and gladly accepted the leads snapped to their halters again. It was dinner time.

Claire asked Jamie if he put up a tree for Christmas and he looked quite confused for a moment. He had been nearly isolated with Isobel for four years and she did not celebrate Christmas, at least not the decorating part. She would give him socks and a tie each year, unwrapped, and he would give her a gift certificate to her favorite store in town. It was all very sterile and emotionless. He would have stood on his head and spit nickels if she asked him to, so it wasn’t hard to convince him. The next night they picked out a twelve-foot, beauty of a tree. Claire seemed so happy with it and the next day she went into town and bought lights, ornaments, and a variety of other special things to put on the tree.

Claire had purchased a small living tree for Runner and Porcelain as well. She filled it with colored sugar cubes and candy canes and placed it on the shelf directly across from their stalls. Runner was stretching his neck to reach it and started kicking his corral bars in protest.

“You can’t eat it Runner. It’s a holiday decoration. You can stop trying, you can’t eat it.”

Claire pulled several sugar cubes for each horse and moved the tree to Jamie’s office.

“Sassenach, what is the purpose of the tree?”

“It’s for putting presents around underneath. When you wake up Christmas morning you open them.”

Jamie seemed completely unimpressed with such a tradition and went back to his work. Inside, he was delighted to watch the Sassenach’s joy. She was childlike in her Christmas happiness and it was infectious as he could feel it seeping into him. Life with this girl was an adventure every day and the kaleidoscope of emotions, love, joy, pride, anticipation, concern, were always with him. Not to mention crazy hot sex. He watched her move about his office making the tree look pretty and was overcome with a need to hold onto her, just for a minute.

Ten minutes of hot kissing later Claire called a time-out and escaped so Jamie could finish working. She laughed at his pout and went back to her project of hanging lights on the tree at home.

Through the next two weeks, Claire hunted for the right gifts for Jamie, Molly, and Lulu. She decided an engraved stethoscope for Dustin would be perfect and as she wrote it on her list, she suddenly scratched it out and spent the next several hours in a funk. How could she give a present to someone that wouldn’t speak to her?

On Christmas eve she made a delicious smelling roast with roasted vegetables and tiny lobster crackers to keep Jamie fed during her surprise. She filled the bathtub and set about creating a treat just for him.

Jamie could smell the roast from outside and smiled with delight. When he walked into the house, he blinked several times to adjust to the candlelight all over the lower floor. Then he saw Claire with a tiny flared skirt, tight sweater that revealed an inch of skin, amazing white stockings, and high heels. He was speechless watching her approach him. She kissed him warmly and handed him a whisky. He was trying to talk but the words were getting twisted in his mouth, so he just smiled and looked at every inch of her.

“I was hoping you would make a blazing fire.”

“Done. Then a shower so I don’t accidentally rub this horse smell on those clothes. God lass, yer beautiful.”

Claire busied herself with setting out the whisky and lobster crackers and Jamie was back with fresh clothes and the permanent smile. He could not remember a single time in his life when someone troubled themselves to make him happy like this. He felt very important to this spit of a girl and that filled him with love for her. They talked as Claire passed him crackers and whisky. When he declined another cracker, she sat on his lap and kissed him from collar bone to mouth and lingered there. Jamie’s hand ran up her leg loving the feel of the silk stockings. When he reached the lace band that held them up, he ran his fingers around it and under it while he kissed her passionately.

The fire was so gorgeous Claire didn’t want to leave the living room, ablaze with tiny lights on the tree, a dozen candles lit, and the roaring fire.

“I want room to move around this incredible body. Can we take this to the floor?”

Jamie looked like he was in a trance and jumped to lay the couch pillows on the floor and pour more whisky.

“Come here Sassenach. I want to show you how grateful I am for what you’ve done.”

Claire laid next to him and waited for him to find her surprise. It didn’t take long for his big warm hand to find its way under her skirt and his fingers played with the tiny beaded thong. When he ran his fingers underneath, he gasped with wide eyes.

“Sassenach.”

She pulled him back to her mouth as Jamie tried to compose himself. He wanted only one thing at that moment, to look under her skirt.

“We dinna want to ruin yer new skirt mo chridhe. Here, I’ll help ye take it off.”

Claire allowed him to remove her skirt and sweater before pulling his own shirt off. His mind had practically shut down except for his need to see under her thong. He kissed and sucked her breasts kissing down her stomach and abdomen until he could lick inside the thong driving Claire out of her mind. He pulled the thong slowly off her and stared at the sexiest image he had ever seen. She was bare except for a racing stripe that stopped right above her bud. He licked it and tried to pull back and look again but Claire pulled him to her begging for her release. Jamie pulled her legs over his shoulders and sent her to erotic oblivion. While she was gone, he looked at her until she opened her eyes again.

“If you get out of those pants, I have another surprise for you, if it works.” She giggled with her heavy speech and received his now naked kisses that we very intense.

During Claire’s shopping, she purchased a Cosmopolitan magazine that promised to heighten sexual pleasure and tone up on the inside at the same time. She bought it feeling adventurous and practiced all afternoon.

Jamie pushed into her slowly and let out a squeaky moan holding perfectly still. The next stroke was even better, and he growled with the sensation he was feeling. Continuing slowly was not an option and Claire’s body sent him reeling as he pounded into her.

When he could breathe again, he gathered Claire up in his arms feeling like he just went ten rounds with a sex goddess.

“I love ye, lassie.”

Claire was quite happy with her surprises for Jamie. The Kegel flexing seemed to add a new dimension to his feeling inside of her, just like the magazine promised. She heard him dozing behind her and slipped out to dress and finish dinner. She was very happy.

She looked at him sleeping, naked on the floor and admired his body for a few minutes. There were many times she would see him walk by or watch him with the horses and he took her breath away. His warm hand on her leg pulled her from her thoughts and she smiled down at him.

“Are you hungry handsome?”

Claire bounded down the stairs the next morning enjoying the scent of the tree with all the sparkling ornaments. She decided at that moment her life couldn’t get any better and bounced into the kitchen where Jamie was reading the paper.

“Merry Christmas Jamie!”

She pounded her coffee down and looked at him with a big smile.

“Are you ready to open presents? C’mon!”

She handed him her present and waited for him to open it.

“A fishing pole lass?”

“Yes, you will teach me to fish and we’ll rent a rowboat and hang out in the middle of the lake while we catch them. And this one is a tackle box! Oh, probably shouldn’t have told you.”

He stared at her for a moment too long making her nervous it was the wrong gift. She looked around the room and her stomach twisted in knots. What if he didn’t get me a present she thought? Well, this is awkward.

“Ye came out of nowhere and dropped into my life like a sparkler that never ends Sassenach.” His voice was reverent and his eyes studied her for several minutes.

“I have a present for ye lass.” Jamie stood up and walked her to the couch, but he couldn’t sit still so he paced.

“I hope I’m not wrong about what’s in yer heart mo chridhe. My heart is full of love for ye, more than I’ve ever felt in my life. I want to keep you with me forever and grow old with ye. I canna be happy with anything less mo chridhe.”

With that he bent one knee and opened a tiny box in front of her.

“Will ye marry me Claire?”

Jamie was very pleased with how wide her eyes got, then a little nervous because she hadn’t said anything. When the silence got uncomfortable Jamie dropped his head and prepared to fix this tragic mess.

“Stop!” Big tears were rolling down her cheeks and her eyes sparkled at him. “Are you kidding me, Jamie? I can’t live without you anymore, of course, I will marry you.”

She dropped into his arms and kissed him at least one hundred times as he slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her with earnest.

Jamie lit a fire to chase the cold off the morning and pulled Claire onto his lap. They talked about belonging to each other, heart, body, and soul. He had put much thought into what he said next and the magnitude of the offer made her tears start again.

“I’ll not start the only marriage I’ll ever have hedging my bet. No contracts about what is mine and what is yours Sassenach. We come to the marriage devoted to each other for life, equal partners in everything. Do you agree?”

Claire was too emotional to speak so she nodded her head yes as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Do ye like the ring love?”

“I love the ring Jamie, it’s what I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid. Having the man I love ask me to marry him. It was just perfect.”

Wrapped in towels after a shower, Claire looked at her ring and felt ready to burst with happiness. She could hardly take her eyes off it to start cooking for their guests. She remembered thinking she was as happy as she could ever be walking downstairs this morning. Then Jamie pushed the bar so high it would never be touched.

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

Text

Phoenix Protocol 07

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

Previously

Miyu doesn’t actually hate the Crucible. Once, in her younger days, before the Cabal and her faulty Light, before every Titan carried a shotgun, she loved it. She could glide through the air with a hand cannon tucked into the sash at her waist and a sword in her hand and she would burn bright like the sun.

But it’s not the same as it was, at the beginning. The Guardians are different. She is different, too. She has to fight smarter, use ranged weapons to make up for her newfound shortcomings. She is not proud of it, either. There is nothing she wants more than to dance through Shaxx’s arenas with her blade like she had in the days of old, carving up those who stand in her way. She realizes that halfway through her eleventh match, on her fourth day of being required to participate in the Crucible. She’s so utterly frustrated.

She throws caution to the wind, and winds up doing somewhat better - earning more kills, but dying three times as much.

Shaxx pulls her out after that match, throwing her a bottle of water that appears from out of nowhere. There’s a logo for some gun manufacturer on it, but she’s not paying attention to that as she guzzles it down.

“You are far more disciplined than this, old friend,” He says, when she rests upon a crate across from him. The Crucible does not take his eyes off the screens, making a series of comments over the in-arena PA system. When the match breaks, he twists to regard her. “You should be running circles around these newbies.”

Miyu sighs. “I know.”

“And yet, what are you doing about it?”

“Things are different now, Shaxx,” She says, quietly. She’s never needed to be loud for him to hear her. “You know I am having difficulties.” Ghost hovers nearby, eying the Lord Guardian of the Crucible warily. “Everyone does, it seems. I’m working on it.”

“So I’ve heard,” He says in reply. “Fruitful efforts?”

“They would be,” She says, sounding exasperated, “If I were given space and time to experiment on my own.”

“Ikora wishes to help you,” Shaxx reminds her. “You are better than this. You are a fighter. One of our best.”

“I was,” She agrees. “Now, I’m washed up. I’d probably be a better fighter if I was Lightless.”

“Don’t say such things,” The one-horned Titan growls, swinging all the way around to regard her. It sounds like he’s gritting his teeth behind his helmet. “I refuse to believe that you’re throwing in the towel.”

“I didn’t say I was.”

“The woman I remember would not have been this subdued. You have never been cocky or loud, Miyu, but you’ve always had that unassuming grace, that confidence in your stance that spoke when you moved. I don’t know what’s been done to her, but I hope you find her soon.”

She rolls her eyes behind his back when he returns to monitoring the matches currently in progress. “That woman might never come back,” She mutters hotly to herself. “Then what?”

Ghost chirps and hovers before her after ten minutes of listening to the Crucible Handler’s commentary. “I got a message,” He says, quietly enough. “He says he’s free now, if we are, for that… thing we were talking about.”

“I-”

“Just go,” Shaxx grumbles, loud. “You’ve satisfied your daily requirement with me, piss-poor effort though it be.”

“Clearly she’s doing her best,” Ghost replies back on her behalf with equal snark, but Miyu pushes him down, between her flat palms.

“Thank you,” She says, and takes off in a billow of robes.

Shaxx does not bother to reply.

The skies have been overcast all day, but now, as she traverses to the training compound, she can tell that it’s going to rain. It will likely grow cold afterward, becoming a catalyst for the leaves to change colors, in the city below. She thinks that would be nice. Miyu has always welcomed change. Better to welcome it like an old friend than fight it every time it came around, she’s always thought.

Zavala is waiting for her when she arrives, dressed in a similar tunic, without armor. She holds Ghost out and allows him to transmat the majority of her own heavy entrapments away, leaving her in a faded Crucible robe that’s mangled and frayed, boots, and bond. Her arms are bare, the sleeves of her robes singed and burnt away.

She catches him looking at her arms and holds them out.

“I haven’t been using it,” Miyu tells him quietly. “No sense in hurting myself when everyone else is trying to.”

“You do not like Crucible,” He reasons.

“I do, actually,” She quips back, her mouth twisting into something almost smile-like. “Or, more aptly, I did, but... everyone solves things by shoving a shotgun down each other’s throat, and I enjoy a more riveting battle.” She palms the hilt of her sword, belted by a second sash around her middle.

“A swordswoman?”

“Yes. Muscle memory leads me to believe I may have been versed in swordplay... before.”

Zavala nods, but does not inquire further. That’s fine by her. She hardly ever shares this much, but somehow it’s easier when it’s him. Ghost makes an indignant sound in through their link. He’s been behaving a bit shifty lately. She knows what he’s thinking, but he’s wrong. He insists he’s not, but at least they’re on the same page in that there are bigger issues at the moment.

She refocuses, as the Commander sits down in front of her. “You were meditating, you said,” He looks up at her and gestures in front of him.

“I was.” She unties the belt holding her sword and lays it down beside her on the ground, dropping to sit cross-legged in front of him.

“If you return to that mantra, do you think it might happen again?”

“I’ve tried, but to no avail.”

“Recount it to me, then,” He encourages, voice dipping lower. It makes her back straighten, warmth spiraling through her chest.

“A candle,” She begins, tentatively.

“Go on.”

Her pale eyes slip shut. “And a voice.”

“Do you remember what it said?”

She nods. “The Speaker used to say it,” She recalls. “The Light lives in all places, in all things...”

Zavala watches her carefully as she recants the well worn phrase, her shoulders loose and curved, her breaths deep and controlled through her speech. Her lips barely part as the words tumble out.

“... even in you, though broken you may seem.”

Miyu drifts a bit after she explains it in full, and he encourages it, allowing a blank, empty canvas to replace her overthinking mind. She does not hear when he stands and steps toward her, crouching in the space in front of her and placing a large palm on her shoulder. His hand is warm and ungloved; she can feel the warmth of it through the tatters of her robe.

Her eyes flick up and meet his as they blink open. She does not startle, and for that he is grateful. “Ready to begin?” He questions quietly.

She nods, and Zavala rises, extending a hand to pull her to her feet as if she is featherlight. To him, she may very well be. Extending her free hand, her Ghost takes his cue and transmats her sword away. Then, he hovers off to the side, watching intently. Beside him, the Commander’s ghost appears, her white shell glimmering with Light.

“It will probably be easier if you are inside it,” He informs her, his fingers flexing at his sides. “When I call upon my Light,” He breathes in, then out as if he is meditating, his hands rising up and out, “The void feels as though it blooms in my chest and unfurls outward. I describe it to new Titans as being akin to filling a cup.”

The Warlock watches him with narrowed, scrutinous eyes. Her brows knit together slightly as he continues.

“The Ward itself rises from the ground up,” She looks around him and sees that it does, “And then coalesces together at the top above me, last.”

“It normally doesn’t take that much time,” She says, when it finally knits together above them.

“No,” He agrees, dropping his hands to the side. Around him, everything is tinted with lavender-lilac void Light. “I figured you would want to see it slowly at first.”

The Warlock hums drifts slowly around the edges of the shield and reaches out her fingers, tentatively. The first time, they pass through. The second, she skims them along the inside of the bubble of energy.

“It's cool to the touch,” She says. “Almost frigid.”

“A common association with the void.”

She nods, studying it. He steps beside her as she comments, “I've been in the presence of other Sentinels, but to clarify, the Ward has to break to allow enemy attacks to get through, yes?”

He agrees, and she tips her head back to regard him. She steps through it and back before it dissipates in trails of latent Light.

They repeat the process several times, until a light drizzle begins to fall on the open-air arena. Miyu tilts her head skyward when it becomes more of a true rain than a cool mist, faltering in her measurements of the thickness of the overshield. Her eyes blink wide as she stares up into fathomless clouds.

When his shield dissipates again, the excess water runs down the remnants of his Light as the void ebbs away. She steps back into the space where his shield had been, takes two strides across soil dotted with raindrops now that it's no longer protected.

“I don't expect you to stay out in the rain,” She murmurs. “I appreciate you indulging me.”

He hums. “A little rain is not a deterrent, Miyu. If anything, it's refreshing.” Cool blue eyes regard her almost fondly, though she's certain she's imagining things. “I will need a moment before I will be ready again.”

“Oh, of course,” She urges. “I don't mean to be so demanding.”

“You are not,” Zavala assures. “Your focus is admirable. But if you don't mind, I am certain my Ghost has messages I should address, if you can spare me a moment.”

It's clear that she's embarrassed, occupying his time. She nods, the aura under her skin swirling in time with her strangely elevated heartbeat. “Of course. Please, take whatever time you need. I should think on practical application, anyway.”

The Commander nods, and his ghost, hovering nearby, transmats forward instead of sailing through the rain.

“Ghost - Tamashii,” Miyu breathes, the words tumbling nearly soundless from her lips, “My sword, please.”

#commander zavala #oc: miyu #zavala x oc #destiny fanfiction #miyu the sweet bean warlock #collection: phoenix protocol

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svguavajelly · 5 years

Text

“You don’t get to decide!”

By the time the meeting adjourned with Juan Arco, the director of the Macas Airport, his niece, my friend Adam Gebb and Marcelo who is our Shuar guide, the weather had drastically changed since our arrival after a beautiful 4+ hour drive from Cuenca. Transiting Parque Nacional Sangay on a windy mountain road the park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site (like Cuenca Centro) and is home to Volcan Sangay, a 17,400ft active volcano with a snow capped perfect cone. The weather had been mostly clear with typical mountain clouds and it was the same on arrival in Macas.

Valley to Macas. There’s a road in there somewhere.

Our plan was to depart after the meeting but unfortunately the tiny Cessna, 4 seat plane doesn’t fly well in sideways rain. When flying into the Amazon over the Cutucu and Shaimi ranges and landing on a primitive grass runway cleared by machetes on the edge of the Mangozita River you need the weather to cooperate. Juan Arco explained that during this time of year the weather could remain foul for days and suggested we backtrack and travel many more hours by bus to our planned final destination and do the trip in reverse. Clearly our plan to fly in and land up river and find a canoe to take us downriver is logically the best. We were anxious to start our journey and had suggested we fly the next morning when it is typically clearer before the afternoon storms roll in.

"That sounds nice but you don’t get to decide!” Juan Arco rebutted with a snicker. We all agreed we could look at the weather in the morning and decide and set out to find lodging for the evening. I needed to buy rubber boots for the journey into the deep Amazon anyway and we enjoyed our last night with a comfortable bed and good meal.

Fortunately the mist in the morning lifted and we lugged our gear to the airstrip, got weighed, paid the fare, tax and wandered around the hanger until we were called to board. Aside from the desk attendant, pilot and baggage handler, we were the only other people around. This is my kind of airport.

The cockpit of the tiny plane was smaller than most taxis we use around Ecuador. They had the plane loaded specifically to balance the weight. Adam offered me the front seat as I had the better camera but the pilot said we were specifically seated for weight distribution. That explained Adams giant backpack leaning against me in the seat between Marcelo and I in the back. After ambling down the runway we managed enough speed to get off the tarmac and immediately banked east towards the Amazon.

Within minutes of the bustling Macas (pop. 30,000) we were skimming the dense canopy of virgin rainforest. Looking down I was imagining what secrets lie below the treetops. There are few places with undisturbed forest like this and especially so close to developed areas. The next half hour we saw a couple of clearings with primitive dwellings but no roads. All travel was by foot and possibly pack animal. Many parts of the dense forest, growing on the steep mountainous land, looked impassable.

Finally the river appeared and we got a glimpse of our airstrip in the distance before circling around the surrounding bluffs. As we descended the plane slowed we were soon looking into the trees as the canopy whooshed by beyond the wingtips. The bumpy landing was exciting though never particularly scary. It’s just another day for the pilot.

We quickly unloaded the plane while surrounded by a dozen uniformed schoolchildren. The heat and humidity was clearly a noticeable change from Cuenca and even Macas…about what you would expect for the Amazon jungle. We shuttled the gear to the river and took a quick dip while asking about canoe transport to Miazal, our first village.

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Our longboat canoe measured 25 feet plus an outboard outfitted with a 6 ft long shaft and a tiny prop for skimming the surface of the river. It wasn’t too stable and fortunately I am accustomed to tippy boats. We asked how far down river was Miazal and the teenage driver flatly responded “3 curves” like that would give us the info we needed. He was keen at navigating the features, currents and obstacles of an ever changing Mangozita River. The rapids were small but still made us grip he gunwale a little tighter as we approached any whitewater.

When traveling in the areas of the Shuar territory, which we were transiting, there are no public lands, per se. It is a community of scattered families and their connecting parcels. It is fairly remote and I doubt many of the locals make trips outside the area. There is no cell service (though some locals did have phones) and no internet nor electricity. Yes…off the grid. So the locals don’t really have any outside information or news.

We hired Marcelo to be our guide, mostly a liaison to vouch for our presence on their land. More than once when we desired to pull up to a village, while landing the canoe somewhere below a bluff, we heard shouts and warnings from above…voices from the trees saying we were not welcome…don’t stop…move on. It was hard to hear if they were speaking Shuar or spanish but it was clearly not welcoming. Having the local boat operator and Marcelo with us didn’t matter…they didn’t want Adam and I there.

In Miazal and subsequently everyone we talked to were aware of a new rumor that some gringo men had come to a village upriver and cut off the heads of 3 Shuar girls. Obviously not true and when we heard this the first time we laughed and thought it was a joke and soon realized they were serious. The two different places we camped for a couple of days each didn’t really believe this (so they say) but they did inform us that this rumor was strong and well traveled among the territory. Regardless of what locals really knew or thought about this, it made our trip a little tense and put restrictions on our ability to explore or go anywhere without a local family member in tow.

From Miazal we hiked to the next village to get permission to visit the Aguas Termales. Not your regular natural springs this sacred location has a 50ft waterfall with a temp of about 104F cascading into a mountain jungle river with other towering, cool falls. The 2 hour hike was on a very primitive trail and without our local guide, Luis, and his machete we would have never found it. We crossed the river half a dozen times and finally I gave up trying to keep the inside of my rubber boots dry and copied Luis and Marcelo who would just let them fill. We scrambled up steep banks that are frequently flooded and washed out and avoided all the pokey, stinging plants and animals of the jungle. These mountains are home to the 3 big cats that reside in Ecuador, the Puma, Panther and Jaguar. Though we didn’t see any, nor did we expect to, we did see some big paw prints down by the river.

Cold Cascada

After some time soaking, swimming and admiring this special place we sensed some nervousness from Luis as he kept looking at the sky. The weather seemed pleasant but he knew that it could be raining miles away and the flood could hit us before the rain even appeared. It would be impossible to get back with any level of inundation. So we gathered our snacks and clothes and returned a different way along the river.

Back at the village I was passed a giant bowl fashioned from a natural gourd containing chicha, the tradicional drink made from the yucca root. Harvested, cleaned, boiled and mashed. While mashing the women chew handfuls of the mixture and spit it with their saliva back into the mixture. Ferment for a day or so and serve it up! The weak alcoholic flavor is mild with a light, fizzy tingle on the tongue. The bowl is passed around and around or more commonly passed to a woman outside the circle who wipes the rim and offers it to the next man. It is an ancient tradition and I sheepishly accepted the patriarchal ways of this ritual. I felt it was important to participate and later found out they don’t really trust visitors that don’t drink chicha. This was done everywhere we went for our week in the territory.

Chicha-tender

A couple of hours down river was our second stop at the community of Los Angeles. Esteban and his family have a big parcel with a variety of fruit trees and a soccer field surrounded by various casitas. In our exploration Esteban pointed out a plant from which they make Ayahuasca. I got an immediate tingle up my spine as I caressed the trippy, twisty vine of the soul…a regular reaction whenever referencing Ayahuasca from my experiences with the medicine in the past decade. He informed me they had a ceremony the previous night and I was both bummed I missed another opportunity as well as somewhat relieved.

Esteban showing me the Ayahuasca Vine

Daughters Cabañas

None of this had any effect on the regular Sunday gathering at this property. Many families arrived with food while music blared from a giant single speaker and various official soccer matches were played, all the while the skies poured down on the party. At dusk, Esteban took us on a canoe ride and long walk exploring his property. The trail was flooded and knee deep for a long section as we approached his daughters' compound, a tidy area with a couple of cabanas and easy access to the river.

Right behind this goal the riverbank steeply descends. If they are lucky the ball will get hung up in the brush, otherwise it rolls or flies into the swift river below.

Goooooooooaaaaaaallllllll!!!

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Our last night was spent cooking for the entire village as they lined the walls of the casita watching as if we were a 1 act play in the round. Using a camp stove we cooked up a vegetable stir-fry with jalapeño tuna topping with fruit and salami appetizers, finishing with Ritz and Oreos and they could not have been happier. Later we spoke with Esteban about the weather and departing mañana and after some discussion he matter of fact stated the familiar saying “I know you need to catch a ride but you don’t get to decide”. Duly noted.

Waiting for Dinner

Palm Larva. Yep, I ate it, crunchy black head and all.

Fortunately in the morning the rains had subsided while I made strong coffee for Esteban and his wife and chatted with the kids as they took turns drawing pictures in my journal. Before long we were packed and ready for the couple of hour trip downriver to meet our ride from Cuenca. Though the rain had stopped the river was still cresting and it took all hands on deck to keep an eye for floating trees, snags and changing currents. Half way down river we spotted the lost canoe from the night before, hung up in some overhanging branches which were normally 12 ft above the surface but now provided the perfect “arms” to stop the runaway canoe and cradle her until we arrived.

Our mission to recover the boat was dangerous and charged with the type of excitement I remember from a decade of sailing on Guava Jelly when these types of situations arose. We can do this but be aware, move deliberately, don’t do anything stupid and make matters worse. Crossing the strong current we made a wobbly approach and as Marcelo grabbed the line of the stranded canoe from the bow of our boat the current swung us around and pushed the 2 hulls parallel. While attempting to hold the position and not trying to pinch fingers the 6ft long prop shaft (still running) was stuck between the hulls, craned 180 degrees forward and spinning between Adam and my head. We remained calm and managed to get everything sorted and towed the canoe across the river, tying her up safely for Estebans’ son to gather later.

Riverfront Property

We arrived at what we thought was Puerto Morona to a flooded and confusing ‘dock’. Squeezing in and climbing over other boats we managed to exit without falling in the drink. This town, though small, had the regular port feel. Interesting and grimy with all the action at the intersection of the dock and the only road passing through town. We clearly were outsiders but people were generally curious and friendly while we ordered our almuerzo (lunch) and a beer.

Flooded Dock.

Ready to return to my crazy family in Cuenca, our ride was nowhere to be found and pondering another night in the Amazon..where would we stay, we decided to get a mixto (pick-up truck taxi) and hope we see him on the way. A few minutes down the road when we reach Puerto Morona…wha?!?…he was there. We had been waiting in Puerto Morona(ish). Do you know there are a half a dozen San Rafaels within 30 minutes of the capital of Costa Rica? Also quite a few San Antonios, San Isidros, San Franciscos, San Others in the same area? In my confusion I remembered this and shrugged it off…we had a ride home!

Climbing into a 2016 extended cab, 4 wheel drive Toyota, I felt almost at home with the familiar comforts the Amazon failed to provide. 5 minutes later our driver explained the only reason he arrived at Puerto Morona on time (the correct Puerto, not the one where we were waiting) was his truck. He approached the washed out road…no road remained, just a little sliver of flat ground over the curb of the shoulder, beyond the avalanche mud. The locals said you can’t pass (aka “you don’t get to decide) and our driver reminded them he just came thru an hour before. We were waved passed and we repeated this process a couple of more times. Hours later I was embraced with the hugs from the wee ones I so missed.

One of many landslides covering the road home.

Aside from the Amazon exploration and adventure, this trip had another more noble purpose. Adam Gebb has been putting together plans to save the rain-forest, albeit only the corridor we visited that is the Shuar Territory.

Looking over 2000+ miles of Amazon jungle basin before it reaches the Atlantic Ocean.

Like so many other unspoiled lands and last frontiers of the world, this area has no protection from the exploiting petroleum, mineral and other industries that threaten to destroy it. From those industries there is currently an influx of money and deals negotiated to steal these lands from the indigenous locals and they have little representation to prevent this from moving down that irreversible path.

The black oval is roughly the Shuar Territory. You can see the value of a bio-corridor between the 2 National Parks. Cuenca is to the west in the Andes.

Adam’s multi-level plan is relatively simple though it faces many hurdles and even if things move forward the progress will be at a glacial pace. Change is difficult when dealing with the many facets…the landholders, government departments, conservation organizations and the research, reports and knowledge necessary to achieve protected status.

Traveling to the territory to meet with the locals and persuade them to even listen to ideas about conservation is a daunting task. That was the purpose of this trip and as you may have read, it was difficult to obtain trust.

Briefly the plan, with the approval and support of the Shuar community, would be to establish eco-friendly tourism to the area by means of a simple hut to hut hiking corridor. This would get the locals involved, bring them some income and hopefully with the reports of like minded travelers and tourists who visit the area, alert the larger conservation organizations (where the future money would come from) to the importance of ultimately establishing a protected bio-corrodor connecting the Parque Nacional Cordilla del Condor on the Ecuador/Peru border to the Parque Nacional Sangay in the Andes of Ecuador.

Though it sounds straight-forward and obviously necessary, there are many steps in between and every turn requires much planning and revisions, meeting, studies, funds, travel, etc. All the while maintaining focus and awareness to the delicate needs and desires of the Shuar community. I hope the unforeseen hurdles are few and the project is successful.

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unchain-the-escapist · 6 years

Text

Jurassic Meteor [Part 2]

“”Think it’ll scare the kids?” Floor asked while moving closer to Tarja.

“The kids?! This will give the parents nightmares…”

“Is that good…”

“It’s fantastic…” Tarja said breathlessly.””

Meteor (Merel/Charlotte/Floor) (Romantic pairing)

Words: 2515

Other parts (x)

After grabbing some papers on her own desk and throwing her coffee cup away, Floor made her way to her car and began driving to the enclosure. Floor didn’t even know that her boss was working today, her days usually filled with vacations to all possible locations in the world while not really being involved in the businesses of the park. That’s why Floor was here, to keep everything going. Ms. Turunen was usually only involved when it came to the bigger decisions, for example in what the Indominus would look like and what its characteristics would be. The rest was up to Floor to arrange. Tuomas and his team had been working day and night to correctly assemble the right combinations to create the new hybrid, and when it had been a success, their boss had been notified.

Stopping on the small gravel area right in front of the main gate to the enclosure, Floor stepped out of her car and immediately spotted Ms. Turunen waiting for her. Dressed in a tailored black suit and matching black heels, Floor scoffed at how hot she must be in that set. It was Costa Rica they were in. Here it was either hot or really hot.

“Floor!” the woman greeted enthusiastically while lowering the phone she was holding against her ear and ending the call she had been having.

“Ms. Turunen! How are you?” Floor said back, the other woman frowning in dismay.

“Oh please call me Tarja, we’ve been over this before.” Tarja said while stepping up to Floor and shaking her hand. Floor had always seen it as common decency to call someone higher in command for Ms, Mrs, or Mr. Something that she would probably never stop doing.

“Tarja… how was your travel here?” Floor asked, both of them moving towards the control room entrance.

“It was amazing! The park seem to have grown so much since I’ve been gone! How’s it doing?”

Having memorized her papers before she stepped into the car, Floor spoke up.

“We're up two and a half percent over last year, a bit lower than our initial projections-“

“No, no, no, how's it doing? Are the guests having fun? Are the animals enjoying life?”

Feeling a bit off course by the question, Floor cleared her throat and answered Tarja’s question.

“Well, guest satisfaction is steady. In the low nineties. We don't have a way to measure the animals' emotional experience.”

“Sure you do. You can see it in their eyes, right?”

“Of course. And the marketing department thought that we could offset some of the costs-”

“Ah, enough about costs! John Hammond entrusted me with his dying wish, and not once did he mention profits. "Spare no expense", he used to say.

Ugh, Floor really hated that saying. She was reminded of it constantly whenever she and Tarja met and discussed business. Spare no expense was a good saying and idea, but in practice it didn’t work like that.

“I appreciate that, but the reality of operating a theme park is that it requires-“

“Don't forget why we built this place, Floor. Jurassic World exists to remind us how very small we are. How new. You can't put a price on that.”

As they reached the door, Floor moved her keycard across the screen and listened for the click of the door so that they could step inside. And once they both heard it, Floor placed her hand on the handle and pressed it down.

“Okay, now show me my new dinosaur..”

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

After scaling a couple of stairs in high-heels, the women entered the control room, immediately greeted with huge, glass windows. To their left sat a security guard with a sandwich in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.

“Unbelievable…” Floor thought, feeling quite embarrassed that the boss over the entire park had to see that they had hired such an incompetent idiot. But Tarja’s eyes were trained on the glass, Floor taking the opportunity to signal for the security guard to leave. After he did, Floor spoke up.

“We hit a few speed bumps early on. It began to anticipate where the food would come from. One of the handlers nearly lost an arm. The others threatened to quit if I couldn't guarantee their safety.” Floor said while they moved closer to the windows. The only thing they could see was dense jungle.

“She’s intelligent then?”

“For a dinosaur.”

“And that?” Tarja said darkly and pointed to the small crack in the glass.

“It tried to break the glass.” Floor exclaimed, her heart beating nervously in her chest. That had been a panic filled morning for the employees when the report had come in about the attempted escape. But the crack was on the long list of little things to fix around the park.

“I like her spirit.”

Those were just the words Floor loved to hear.

Suddenly, a growl could he heard from the thick trees. Something was moving through the green scenery, the shape of a large, white back and the side of a white abdomen area disturbed the otherwise still leaves. Floor could faintly feel the vibrations of the dinosaur’s footsteps.

“Oh it’s white… you never told me it was white…”

Looking over at the other woman, Floor could see the awe and the fear in her eyes. In that moment, she wanted to do a victory dance. But that had to wait. All of Floor’s hard work had payed off.

“Think it’ll scare the kids?” Floor asked while moving closer to Tarja.

“The kids?! This will give the parents nightmares…”

“Is that good…”

“It’s fantastic…” Tarja said breathlessly.

As Floor could clearly make out a yellow eye looking in their direction, Tarja spoke up.

“Can she see us?”

“They say it can sense thermal radiation, like snakes.”

Pausing for a moment, Tarja turned fully towards the other woman.

“Say, I thought there were two of them. That’s what you said on the phone when you gave me the good news.”

“There was a sibling in case this one didn’t survive infancy.”

“Where’s the sibling?”

“She ate it.” Floor said matter of factly, watching as Tarja’s eyes turned wide and showed disbelief. Ingesting the information while turning away from Floor, the women watched as the Indominus disappeared through the jungle.

Tarja surveilled the walls for a while before speaking.

“So the paddock is quite safe then?”

“We have the best structural engineers in the world.”

“Yeah, so did Hammond.”

Floor didn’t respond to that, her mind still cursing Hammond and his foolishness. It had been ten years. They were smarter now. They had better technology. The Indominus was safe in its enclosure.

“There is an animal trainer here. Part of a research team one of my companies is running. Merel Bechtold.”

Feeling how her entire stomach twisted at the name, Floor was close to gasping, her hand once more reaching for her wedding ring. It was still hard to hear that name without her heart beating painfully.

“I know who she is.” Floor said with as little emotion as she could.

“Her animals often try to escape. They’re smart. She has to be smarter.”

Turning away from the other woman, Floor took a deep breath while trying to compose herself.

“And the veterinarian. Charlotte something… we need to ensure that the dinosaur is happy after all. Weren’t you dating?”

A big smile stretched across Floor’s face at the name, the thought of Merel seemingly being blown away for the moment.

“Wessels, her last name is Wessels. And we got married six months ago.”

“Congratulations.” Tarja said and smiled warmly.

“I want both Merel and Charlotte here to inspect the paddock. Maybe they see something that we can’t.”

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

After saying goodbye to her boss and knowing that she would be in her office during the rest of the day, Floor got conformation of her wife’s whereabouts through the main control room and began making her way over there.

She rarely got to see Charlotte during the day due to them working in two very different departments. And when they got home to their hotel room, they would barely have energy to make food before they both collapsed onto their bed together. They knew that this type of living wasn’t good for their marriage, long arguments into the night had proved that much.

Pulling up to the veterinary clinic on the East Plains, Floor spotted the sick Triceratops lying on its side inside the cage it was held in, a woman with a distinctive set of red hair tending to the animal. Charlotte’s passion for animals had always been great, her job with large mammals recognized by the park’s employers and they gave her an opportunity that she couldn’t refuse.

Exiting the car, Floor breathed in the fresh air while looking over the mountains and how they broke through the dense jungle, a flock of Gallimimus foraging for food on the edge of it. A name was circling around in her head, a name that she would do anything to forget.

Merel.

Why was she even needed? Floor had had engineer after engineer looking over the enclosure and they had declared it safe. She didn’t need this “expert” to have a look at it too. But Tarja was her boss and she had to obey.

Opening the door to the clinic with her keycard, Floor was met with cupboards with medicine, x-ray and surgery equipment, and other things used for examinations. Floor wasn’t really familiar with the care of the animals or what was needed. She just signed the papers if new equipment needed to be purchased. Towards the end of the room, and next to a touch screen with what seemed to be a journal displayed on it, was a door. And through that door, Floor spotted her wife.

The heavy breaths of the Triceratops greeted Floor as she stepped out into the sun once more, Charlotte listening to the animal’s chest with a stethoscope, eyes closed and mind focused on the rhythmic breathing.

“Hey.” Floor said carefully, Charlotte’s eyes snapping open and a smile replacing the focused look on her face.

“Hey!” the redhead said while putting the stethoscope around her neck and walking up to her wife. Charlotte’s arms were quickly wrapped around Floor’s neck, her head tilting back and connecting her lips with Floor’s own in a heated kiss. Placing her hands on Charlotte’s hips, Floor marveled at how soft her wife was, her spirit free and caring. A sharp contrast to Floor’s harder and distrusting one. But maybe that’s why they fit so well together, and why their relationship bloomed under such straining working conditions. And why it didn’t work with some…

Pulling away from the kiss and shaking away the sinking feeling in her chest, Floor faced her wife’s worried gaze.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, playing with the small strands of hair at the back of Floor’s neck. The touch felt good, eliciting tiny sparks along her spine and making her heart pound. Charlotte always had that effect on her. Floor could be in the middle of a breakdown over the stress of keeping the park together, but one touch from Charlotte and she instantly became calm.

“Ms. Turunen asked me to bring some experts to the Indominus enclosure to make sure that the dinosaur was fine and secure. She wanted me to bring you… and Merel…”

Floor watched as Charlotte’s smile changed, her hazel eyes turning somber as her arms dropped from the taller woman’s shoulders.

They hadn’t spoken in a year, not since Merel had walked out on them. On their relationship. Screams and tears of heartbreak had been present at all of them. It had been the three of them for so long, sharing the same home, the same bed, they even proposed to each other at the same time. On the Costa Rica beach, under the stars, they made a promise to each other to never be apart.

And then Floor’s work took over. She was never there anymore, leaving Merel and Charlotte alone to miss her. And then Floor broke the news about the Indominus Rex and Merel lost it. She called the hybrid a monster, a being that wasn’t supposed to exist. That it would never work and destroy everything. Not just the park, but their relationship as well. And then she made a dilemma to Charlotte. Would she stay with Floor or Merel? And when she couldn’t answer, Merel packed her stuff and left their room.

Charlotte had cried for two days straight.

“Oh?” the redhead said and began hugging her middle.

They hadn’t seen or talked to Merel in a year, Floor only knew that she still worked at the park. They hadn’t made an attempt to re-connect. Something that had been all too present during their wedding day, how they had cried not over the vows they had read, but over the person they had lost along the way. A piece of their heart was missing that day.

“Yeah. And I don’t know what to do.” Floor said, her voice cracking just a bit as she spoke. She had chosen her career over her fiancée. She would not chose her career over her wife. That’s why they were working so hard to make their relationship work.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble just because you didn’t follow orders.”

Floor wanted to shout at the conflicting emotions coursing through her mind. She loved her job, she loved making profits, to expand, and to see the park flourish. Floor loved the challenges that came with it. So she had to follow orders. She had sacrificed so much for this park.

Caressing her wife’s cheek gently with the tip of her thumb, she kissed Charlotte’s forehead before starting to hug her tightly. Floor did have the park, and in some miraculous way her wife, but they both needed closure. Merel’s departure still weighed heavily on them both.

“We can’t keep doing this, Charlotte. We can’t keep ignoring the woman we once loved. Maybe even still do…” Floor spoke quietly, sensing how Charlotte began clinging tighter to her.

“No, we can’t…” the redhead said while pulling away, Floor seeing the tears gathered in the corner of her wife’s eyes before they were forced away. Floor admired her strength, she always had. When things had been crazy, Charlotte was the one who brought peace when Floor’s and Merel’s tempers had been boiling over. Sometimes Floor wondered why Charlotte had picked her, Merel was the funny one and Floor was just… Floor. During the night when Merel had walked out, Floor was so certain that Charlotte would walk away too. And when she hadn’t, the tall brunette had cried with joy. Nowadays, she couldn’t even imagine a future without Charlotte in it.

“I’ll take care of this lady here and then we can go.” the redhead said, going back to listening to the Triceratop’s chest. And Floor looked on, thanking every force in the universe that Charlotte had stayed.

#fanfiction #meteor #jurassic meteor #merel bechtold #charlotte wessels #floor jansen

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jsmulligan · 7 years

Text

“You've got to hold those zones!” the voice of Lord Shaxx, Crucible Handler, rang through the arena, frustration evident in his tone.

Shaxx was a legendary figure, a mountain of a man who had lead famed charges into harrowing conflict, then built the Crucible as we know it to train Guardians to be ready for anything that would come their way. He was very hands on with his creation, monitoring each match that happened. He served as announcer for some matches, others he would just chime in from time to time with comments directed toward the competitors. Normally, hearing him getting so caught up in a match was nearly as entertaining as the action itself. When it was directed at your team, the entertainment value dropped substantially.

“Oh, is THAT what we're supposed to be doing,” Hunter Celeste Etain muttered to the left of me. “And here I thought we were just supposed to dance around them and look at the pretty flags.”

As she spoke, Celeste spun out into the open, drawing her Void bow and loosing an arrow at Zone B. The arrow pierced through one defender. Where he fell, a ball of purple Light blossomed with tendrils of energy lancing outward to snare the other two. I followed her action up by tossing grenade that attached to one and exploded. The energy of the explosion transferred through the Void tethers, killing both of them.

“Maybe that's what Baruch was doing,” Titan Kana-4 chimed in over the comms, her tone teasing. “It would explain why we lost C just now.”

She sprinted into view, performing a crisp slide into the circle that marked the Control point. Celeste and I quickly moved into it as well, the three of us watching for approaching enemies while waiting to be awarded the capture.

“I was not dancing,” Titan Baruch Maor groused after a few seconds, his usual lack of humor evident in his tone. “They shot me out of the air before I could land my slam. I had them dead to rights.”

“And that is why you don't leap high in the air before you do it,” I chided. “At least until you've managed to better control you speed of descent. We've talked about that.”

He did not reply to that, but I could imagine the Awoken man grumbling under his breath. Despite being newly risen, Baruch was very self-assured. That could be a good thing, but it often turned into arrogance or just thick-headed stubbornness. If I could manage to shape it properly, it could result in a stalwart Guardian that others would follow into anything. For now, however, it just made me want to beat my head against the Wall until visions of prancing Thrall filled my skull.

“Tanton. Astrid. How are you progressing?” I asked.

“Got one,” was the Hunter's terse reply.

“We found her by A and took her out,” Astrid's young voice replied. “About to move to capture.”

“Nice work,” Celeste complemented.

“Thanks,” Astrid said, the mini-Titan's voice full of joy. “She never saw me coming. Dove into the back of her knees, then Tanton finished her off with his knife.”

“You and knees,” I muttered, not necessarily intending to be heard.

“It's fun,” she said. “No one ever expects it.”

Motion to my left. I turned and fired, three rounds leaping from my Parthian Shot pulse rifle. They found their mark, striking a Guardian who had tried sneaking up on us. Kana reacted and fired an inaccurate spray from her auto rifle. It was not the best bit of shooting, but enough rounds found their mark to finish off the enemy combatant.

“Heavy ammo inbound,” suddenly sounded through the arena.

“We'll get the close one here,” I said. “We'll do out best to wait for the rest of you to get here before opening it.”

“Not me,” Baruch stated. “I've still got a Fist of Havoc that I need to hit someone with. I'm going after the other drop.”

The heavy ammo crate trasmatted into its designated spot. I erected a Ward of Dawn around it, giving us protection while we grabbed the ammo synths and loaded our weapons. Across the bottom of my HUD, I saw several notifications scroll by in rapid succession:

BRAVO has picked up heavy ammo.

Baruch Maor killed Baris-7, Fist of Havoc

Baruch Maor killed Lee Christoph, Fist of Havoc

Baruch Maor killed David Ryn, Fist of Havoc

ALPHA has taken the lead.

Jarus Corbin killed Baruch Maor, sniper rifle

“Four of them got the heavy ammo, but I took out three,” Baruch said moments later, after being revived and transmatted back into the arena.

“Nice work,” I replied. “Let's finish them off.”

Having five members of our team with heavy weapons available, versus only one of theirs, gave us a strong advantage. We stuck together, working to take out approaching Guardians before they could pick us off or unleash their Light. This let us stretch out the slim lead Baruch had gotten us, and we were able to hold on for the victory. It wasn't the prettiest match I had ever been part of, but a win is a win. The team seemed to be coming together nicely. Well, the team and Astrid, the irrepressible “Wild Child”.

Once the match was called, Celeste made her way to the nearest control point and was started dancing near the flag. Kana cheered her on while clapping a beat. Baruch, Tanton, and Astrid gathered nearby and were watching the two of them.

“Alright everyone, let's call it a day and get out of here,” I said.

“Aww, but I'm holding the zone like Shaxx said,” Celeste jokingly pouted.

“Yeah, someone has to show Baruch how it's done,” added Kana, casting a glance at the other Titan.

“Try it out next time we're in a match and see how it works for you,” the other Awoken man grumbled.

“Well, if you want to stick around, that's up to you,” I replied, “but Fireteam Painted Truth is officially off duty for now.”

“Fireteam?” a familiar voice questioned behind me. I turned around to see Jarus Corbin approaching. He had already removed his helmet and a broad smile was creasing his dark features. “Claney Beamard in an honest-to-goodness fireteam? And here I thought I'd seen everything.”

“Jarus,” I nodded, extending a hand which the Hunter shook. “It's been a while.”

“Yes it has,” he responded, glancing past me at the other five Guardians. “I thought you'd sworn off fireteams. In fact, I remember you making a big deal about it when Iniko tried to get you to join ours a few years back.”

“It's a long story,” I said. “But the short version is that it was something that I'd thought about for a while and the Vanguard assigned three kinderguardians to work with me and Celeste.”

“And the half-pint?” Jarus asked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said quickly, holding a hand up. “Don't let her hear you say that, unless you feel like eating a Hammer. What's the phrase? '… though she be but little, she is fierce'? And to answer your question, she's not fully part of the team. Astrid is still only allowed to participate in the Crucible. Officially. Unofficially, I'd be willing to wager just about anything that she manages to slip out and get herself more field experience than anyone would guess.”

A warning appeared on my HUD just then. We had remained too long and needed to clear the arena before the next match. I'd seen people ignore those warnings and had no desire to be cleared from the arena by the Redjacks.

“Let's finish this conversation back at the Tower,” I said to Jarus before turning my attention to my team. “Now it's really time to go. Clear out, head back home.”

…

I changed out of my armor into something more casual while on transit to the Tower. Jarus, the team, and I all transmatted into the Courtyard about the same time, and it looked like they all had the same idea. We briefly discussed heading to the Hangar bar or the City, but decided to continue the conversation at the fireteam quarters. Astrid opted to head back to the Anusky's. We reached our destination and the Hunter paused at the door where Celeste had painted the team's name in large letters.

“Painted Truth?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Celeste picked the name,” I replied with a shrug.

“Don't be jealous your team didn't think of something as interesting,” she smirked and passed through the doorway.

Jarus just shook his head and followed her in. I let Kana, Baruch, and Tanton enter as well before stepping in last. By the time I entered, Jarus and Celeste had each found seats in the common area. Baruch and Kana were looking for seats, and Tanton was disappearing into his bunk. I watched him go and then dropped heavily into an empty armchair.

“Jarus Corbin, this is Celeste Etain, Kana-4, and Baruch Maor. The one who disappeared into his room is Tanton Holter. Team, Jarus.” I indicated each member of the team as I said their names, and they each nodded or waved in turn. “I've worked with Jarus a few times in the past.”

“Yep. And I saved his life every single time, regardless of what he tells you,” the Hunter said. “So, I take it we have time for the longer version now?” Jarus asked.

“I suppose we do,” I said, then took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, it starts with a woman...”

“The best stories always do,” Jarus commented, winking at Kana who gave an impressive roll of her optics.

“... named Zillah Arvid,” I continued, ignoring both him and the sound Celeste made at the mention of Zillah's name. “An Awoken Warlock. She, Celeste, another Warlock named Scott-20, and I went on a mission that turned into something much bigger. She suggested we form a team.”

“I can't help but notice there's nobody here that matches that description,” he said. “Is she...”

“Dead? No. She left shortly after making the suggestion and hasn't been seen since. The other Warlock suffered some injuries during the events and decided he preferred life in his study to the field. He is our unofficial sixth member, acting as an information maven as well as facilitating communications and tinkering with gear.

“That left me and Celeste. We work together all the time, but two people do not a fireteam make. It seemed like the end of it. I've spent the better part of the last year stationed at the Tower helping to mentor and train newly revived Titans. Celeste stuck around for a time, but then ventured back into the wilds as you Hunters do. Still, I couldn't seem to shake the idea of putting a team together. Eventually I convinced Celeste to come back and brought the idea up to the Vanguard. They assigned Kana, Baruch, and Tanton to us to make the team, though there wasn't a sixth at the time.”

“Dad and I...” Celeste began before Jarus interrupted again.

“Wait. Dad?”

“I was there when she was resurrected,” I said quickly. “Right after helping you and Iniko, actually. Have you seen any old cartoons where the baby bird hatches and thinks that whatever the first thing it sees is its mother? Same basic concept.”

“Shush,” Celeste laughed, tossing a throw pillow at me. “Anyway. Yes, my dad. We agreed to the assignment and have been spending way too much time in the Crucible ever since to, as the old man put it, 'build team report.'”

“Well that just sounds super boring,” Jarus remarked, smirking at me.

“Oh, it is,” Kana agreed.

“Well, if you get tired of it, Team Tosia could always has room a few extra members. We'd actually let you out to shoot stuff. Just ditch the 'old man' here and come on over.”

“Poaching from my team and inciting mutiny. Remind me to not invite you back,” I said, shaking my head.

“What can I say? I like to stir the pot,” the Hunter replied.

“I'm well aware of that. Speaking of Team Tosia, how are things?”

“Knew they had a boring name,” Celeste muttered under her breath. Jarus either did not hear or just ignored it.

“Not bad, not bad. Broke in a new member not too long ago when someone left the team. We've been keeping active; taking strikes from the Vanguard, doing work for the factions, the usual. It is getting a little weird out there, though.”

“How so?”

Jarus shifted as he spoke, leaning forward, “The numbers of enemy combatants we're seeing and the way they're moving. I mean, given everything that has happened over the last few years, taking the Black Garden, killing Hive Gods, stopping the Devils and SIVA, it would stand to reason that we would see changes. But... I don't know. Something feels off about the way it's going down. I can't really put my finger on it, though.”

I nodded, thoughtful. Baruch and Kana seemed to listen intently with a definite hunger in their eyes. Maybe it was time to get them out in the field instead of just drilling in the Crucible.

“I will say one thing for sure,” Jarus continued, “there is something going on with the Cabal on Mars. Something seems to have lit a fire under them and they are starting to push harder against us and the Vex. Mobilizing in a way I haven't seen since they were right before Oryx wrecked them on Phobos. Tosia has recommended to the Vanguard that we increase our presence there.”

“You think they're planning to try to move against us?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they're a canary.”

“A what?” Baruch questioned.

“A canary,” Jarus repeated. “Back long before the Golden Age, when people would mine underground for minerals, they would sometimes have a canary with them in order to detect lethal gas.”

“Did the birds offer some sort of warning?” Kana asked.

“No,” Jarus replied, “they just died faster than people. So if the canary dropped dead, they miners would know there was a deadly substance in the air and get out.”

“Oh,” was the only response the Exo offered.

“And you think that the Cabal are reacting to something big coming that we haven't detected yet?” I asked.

“They were like an ant hill someone kicked over before Oryx came in, they're starting to get that way now. One doesn't necessarily mean the other, but...,” the Hunter shrugged.

“You may have a point.”

Just then, my Ghost Elgan materialized and floated over to me.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the Vanguard are calling for you.”

“Okay.”

“They want to speak to you in private,” he said.

I excused myself from the conversation and crossed the room to my bunk. I closed the door and sat on the far side of the small room. Elgan flittered over to hover just in front of me, the pieces of his shell rotating in opposite directions. I looked at him, and he connected me to the Vanguard. The calm, deep voice of Commander Zavala emerged.

“Claney?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“There is an urgent matter that the Speaker wishes to discuss with you. He is requesting that you come to his study alone. He says it is something of a sensitive nature and would prefer no one else know that you are coming to speak with him.”

“Any idea what so I'm not going in blind?” I asked.

“No,” the Commander replied, a slight hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. He did not seem to be thrilled to have the Speaker keeping him in the dark either.

“Fair enough. I will head there right away. Claney out.”

The connection severed and I sat still for a moment. For the life of me I could not figure out what the Speaker would need to speak to me about. No point in keeping him waiting, however. I emerged from the room and all eyes turned to me.

“I have to go deal with something. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Celeste gave me an inquisitive look, and I shook my head then headed out the door.

...

AN:

This is the first chapter of my recently started fic over at fanfiction.net. I saw posts about Destiny week, and that it was fireteam day. I hadn’t contributed up ‘til now, but better late than never? The story itself is a sequel to A Not So Simple Patrol and lead in to Destiny 2.

As always, Astrid is the property of @yourspunkpunk

#Destiny the game #fanfiction #Claney #Celeste #When the Sun Winds Down #yourspunkpunk #Destiny

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andinewton · 7 years

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Second Chances - Avengers Redemption Series - Part One Chapter 84

Characters: Loki, Maia Tomson (OFC), Sigyn, pretty much everyone from the MCU appears at some point, including some special appearances by members of the X-Men!

Pairings: Loki x Maia Tomson, Loki x Sigyn,

Warnings: Smut, so much smut, violence, swearing; listen, it’s NSFW and 18+, just bear that in mind!

Word Count: 179105

Summary: Loki has been handed over to The Avengers to pay penance for his past crimes, underpowered and underwhelmed by his post he is assigned a new ‘guide to Midgard’ by his superiors and is more than a little surprised when a petite freckled, redhead is waiting in the conference room, not at all like the previous handlers he has been assigned, who quit after a very short time with the snarky god. Maia Tomson is a trained literature teacher and counsellor, maybe not someone you would have picked out to be a guide to the God of Mischief but her mentor, Charles Xavier, knows she likes a challenge, and when The Avengers ask him to recommend someone she is top of his list. Surprised by the assignment, Maia takes it on, promising to do her best, but was not counting on a mutual attraction with her charge.

Join Loki on a journey to discover that his heart is not as frozen as he believes it to be, an adventure spanning almost a millennia of love gained and lost and rediscovered in the most unlikely of places…

Master List

Chapter 83

Summary: Flashback to when everyone finally returns to the tower, the new normal begins with Sigyn living with Loki, just one thing is left for her to do...tell her parents...

Sigyn sat at the desk in Loki's, their, newly repaired room at the tower, the loading circle on her laptop moving in time to the purring ring as she waited for her parents to answer the call. They tried to speak at least once a month on schedule, more often by arrangement if they could, and this was the first chance she had to do so. To tell them about her change in circumstances. All of them. She wasn't nervous, well maybe a little; telling parents about a new relationship was always nerve wracking, let alone one that would firmly put her in the public eye, but not as nervous as Loki. He kept wandering in and out of the room, knowing she wanted to introduce him properly, once she had had a chance to soften the blow, so to speak. As much as she had reassured him they would be fine it still wasn't going to be an easy thing to explain, which was why Charles Xavier was waiting to be called in if necessary. They trusted him and his word, even if they doubted hers.

The call was answered and she was rewarded with a close up of her dad's shirt buttons as he took a seat, revealing her mom off to the side in another chair, smiling broadly at her. 'Hey, sweetie.' Her dad grinned as he got comfortable. 'How are you?' 'I'm good, how're you both?' She asked as she leant on the desk with her elbows, unable to keep the smile from her own lips. 'We're fine.' Her mom replied. 'Did you redecorate?' She looked behind her automatically, having forgotten they knew her room at Xavier's so well. 'Oh! No, I moved. Actually a lot has changed. This might take a while.' She sighed, wondering how to start. She had laid awake most of the night wondering what she would say, until Loki realised and distracted her into blessed unconsciousness. But she wasn't nervous. No. Definitely not. 'I took another job in the city.' 'You're not at Xavier's?' Her dad said in surprise. She had been there for over ten years, not including her college years, and it was as much a home to her as theirs was. 'Nope. No more Xavier's. Charles recommended me for this other position and it's sort of spiralled.' She admitted, feeling like she was grossly under exaggerating. 'More teaching or counselling this time?' Her mom asked, leaning forward in her seat. They were always interested in what she was doing, but why wouldn't they be? She was their baby. 'Neither. Listen, I need you both to just hear me out, not jump to conclusions, and really not yell at me, because this is one hell of a story.' Her dad frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. 'You're worrying me, sweetie. What did you move on to?' 'Erm,' she scratched her neck nervously, 'I kind of joined The Avengers.' They reacted pretty much as she expected. Her dad laughed and her mom repeated her words back to her in a slightly higher pitch. 'It's a lot more complicated than that. You're going to have to give me a chance to explain because it's pretty weird.' 'But Maia, The Avengers? You mean you're counselling at their tower, not you’re one of them, right?' Her mom laughed nervously. 'No, on the team. Which is why I need to explain.' 'Maia.' Her dad said sternly and she knew he was about to try and lecture her without all the facts, and she was pretty sure she knew what about. 'You aren't exactly in the same pay grade, shall we say, as Captain America, Tony Stark, not to mention they have Thor's maniacal brother working with them! This had better be some kind of joke.' Of course Thor's "maniacal" brother chose that moment to walk back into the room and she waved him out again frantically. Thankfully he took the hint before he was in view of the camera. 'He's not maniacal.' She said defensively. 'He's actually really sweet.' 'What?' He laughed unfunnily. 'You've met him?' She blushed. A lot. Her cheeks flamed and she knew they would see it. She bit her lip and gave them an apologetic smile. 'Yes?' 'She's crushing on him!' Her mom said in disbelief, assuming that was the reason for the blush. 'Not...crushing, not really. But that's another part of the reason you need to listen.’ She reminded them pointedly. They hadn't given her a chance to even start to explain yet. ‘The last few weeks have been pretty crazy, and I’m really not convinced you’ll believe it, but I have to try make you understand because my entire life has changed. Everything.’ She raised her hand and coated it in power, showing them the amber glow she had never had control over until recent days. Her mom gasped, her dad’s jaw dropped open, both bore wide eyes, and she continued to speak into their stunned silence. ‘Charles recommended me for a position at The Avengers Tower, helping Loki adjust to his new position. He’s helped me unlock my powers, which is a whole other story, but you’re going to have to get used to the idea he’s in my life.’ She said as she extinguished her hand again. ‘He’s in your life?’ Her dad repeated, his expression unimpressed. ‘You need to explain yourself, Maia.’ ‘I don’t know if I can!’ She pushed the chair out and got up, walking back across the room before turning to face them again. ‘Charles will one-hundred percent back me up on this, so try not to freak out even more, but my powers are working because of Loki, because of what he’s…’ She growled in frustration and dropped back into her chair. ‘We’re an item, okay? A couple. And I know you’re going to bitch at me but just stow it for a minute because it’s going to get weirder.’ ‘Weirder than you dating a genocidal maniac? Really? I don’t think we can imagine much weirder.’ Her dad said angrily and she shook her head. ‘How about the fact I’m his dead wife reincarnated? That weird enough for you, Dad?’ She realised she shouldn’t have been so blunt about two seconds before her dad cut her off, cancelled the call, hung up, whatever you want to call it. She closed her eyes as she sighed. She knew that the way to get him to listen was to not do exactly what she had done. He needed gentle coaxing, not things thrown in his face. ‘Not going well, sunbeam?’ ‘Not going well, my prince.’ She turned in the chair to see him leaning against the doorway. ‘You been lurking in the hallway or in the room invisible?’ ‘You know me so well.’ He came towards her with a small smile and knelt before her, taking both her hands in his. ‘You knew this wouldn’t be easy for them to hear, sweet, despite what you said. There is a lot of information for them to take in, least of all you and I.’ ‘I want them to be happy for us, and to like you.’ ‘I did try and enslave your planet.’ He reminded her. ‘Only once.’ She argued. ‘That was quite enough for most people.’ He leant up and kissed her softly. ‘It does little to endear me to the populace. You are perhaps the most forgiving person I have met thus far.’ ‘I’m a sucker for a pretty face.’ She shrugged as her computer began to ring and he got to his feet to leave her again but she didn’t release his hand. ‘Stay?’ ‘I don’t think that is such a good idea, princess.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t care.’ She didn’t let him go and she reached over and answered the call. Now just her mom remained in the seat her dad had been in. ‘Maia, your dad…oh.’ She said as she realised he daughter wasn’t alone. ‘Mom, Loki; Loki, this is my mom.’ ‘Mrs Tomson.’ Loki bowed his head respectfully. ‘It is an honour to make your acquaintance.’ ‘You’re Loki.’ She stated, unsure what else to say. ‘I am.’ ‘Make a chair.’ Sigyn tugged on his hand and with a small sigh of resignation he created one to match her own before taking a seat. ‘Mom, I need you to understand, and maybe try explain to Dad. I know it doesn’t sound right, I really do, but I have Charles on standby ready to confirm everything is true, and I know you trust him. The reason my powers never worked right is because it’s not a mutation, it’s Asgardian sorcery. All those dreams I used to have when I was little, about being in battles with princes, they were past life memories, of Loki, and Thor, it was all true, and now I remember almost everything, I know who I was, and that was Sigyn, Loki’s wife.’ ‘Goddess of Fidelity.’ Loki added. ‘Lady of Unyielding Gentleness.’ ‘That’s enough.’ She squeezed his hand at her mom’s confused yet worried expression. ‘I can have Charles call you, if you want clarification, but it’s all true. Loki unlocked my powers for me, he’s helping me train them so I can be an Avenger. We’re living together and…’ she paused, knowing she might already have said too much. ‘And I know it’s sudden, and it’ll take some getting used to. And I know Dad’s mad, and it’s my fault, but talk to Charles, let him clear it up for you, and when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.’ ‘Don’t hang up yet, love.’ Loki raised her hand and kissed her knuckles automatically. ‘I’ll be right back.’ She glanced at him as he left and her mom spoke again. ‘I don’t know what to say, honey. This is kind of a surprise.’ ‘Tell me about it. I woke up to realise I was someone else.’ She sunk down in her seat. ‘Can you try convince Dad to listen to Charles? Even if he won’t listen to me? Charles has checked both our heads and he knows what’s gone on. He can probably put a better perspective on it than me.’ ‘Have Charles call us.’ Her mom agreed. ‘If anyone can make your dad see sense it’ll be him.’ ‘Thanks, Mom.’ She smiled but it was sad, and she was almost certain as soon as the call was over she would lock herself in the bathroom and have a cry. It certainly hadn’t gone the way she had hoped. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in, I’ve struggled with parts of it too, like you wouldn’t believe, but having Loki help me through it…’ she sighed, ‘you’ll like him, I promise you will.’ ‘You’re a grown woman, we can’t ground you.’ She said lightly but there was seriousness to the words, as though they would if they could. ‘We’ll try understand.’ ‘That’s all I ask.’ Sigyn glanced at the door as Loki came back through it, being followed by someone. ‘Steve?’ Sigyn frowned as he came into the room, Loki offering him the chair which he took with thanks. ‘Loki said you might want me to speak to your folks, set a few things straight?’ He glanced from her to the screen and nodded to her mom. ‘Ma’am. Steve Rogers, at your service.’ ‘Uh…that’s Captain America.’ Her mom said without taking her eyes off him. ‘Yeah.’ Sigyn chuckled. ‘It is.’ Steve spent the next ten minutes explaining as best he could about the situation, how the team all now trusted Loki, the many things he had done for them, and for the second five minutes her dad returned, listening in disbelief as Captain America spoke animatedly about their daughter and how capable she was, what a difference she had made in a short space of time to the team, all the while Loki standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, close but not distractingly so. ‘And if you need any further clarification from the team I’m sure I can arrange a meeting where we can ease your worries.’ Steve finished. ‘We’ll bear that in mind, thank you, Captain Rogers.’ Her dad said. ‘And I’ll get Charles to call you in a little bit.’ Sigyn added. ‘Thanks, sweetie.’ Her dad managed a small smile. ‘This wasn’t what we had in mind for you, you know that.’ ‘Best laid plans.’ She shrugged. ‘If it helps I know you always wanted me to be happy, and Loki does make me happy.’ ‘That’s what’s important.’ Her mom said before her dad could reply. ‘Thanks. I’ll speak to you soon? Maybe?’ ‘We’ll talk after we’ve spoken to Charles.’ Her mom promised. ‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘Speak to you soon.’ She kissed her fingertips and waved at them as she always did, then finished the call, her shoulders slumping. ‘You okay with how that went?’ Steve asked her, his face a mask of concern. ‘Really no.’ She sighed and got to her feet. ‘Excuse me, would you?’ She asked, and went and locked herself in the bathroom.

Loki left Sigyn in peace for a good ten minutes before making her a coffee and coming back to their room, knocking softly on the door, knowing she was there despite the silence. ‘Sig? Sunbeam?’ He asked quietly. ‘Can I come in? Or would you like to come out?’ ‘No.’ Came the faint reply and he was not surprised. ‘Please, kitten?’ There was a pause then the lock clicked and he took it as a sign, pushing down the handle with his free hand and opening the door, finding her sitting against the wall by the sink, her knees drawn up and eyes puffy. He didn’t say anything straight away, just passed her the cup he held and took a seat beside her. ‘That’s Tony’s special blend that he hides in the back of the freezer, in case you were wondering.’ She sipped it and smiled slightly. ‘It’s good.’ ‘That’s why he hides it. At least I assume so. It could just be because he’s such a child.’ ‘You’re all children. All men.’ She murmured into the cup. ‘I am assuming we are including your father in “all men”?’ She sighed and leant to the side until her head rested against his upper arm and shoulder. ‘Especially him.’ ‘Oh, petal.’ He leant his cheek against her hair. ‘Do you think, if we are ever blessed with a daughter, that I will be any better? That any man who approaches her will reach my standard of what she deserves? I barely deserve you, yet here we are, and you cannot blame a father when his baby virtually brings home the enemy and expects acceptance with no real explanation.’ ‘I tried to explain.’ She said defensively. ‘But it was never going to be straightforward.’ He reasoned. ‘You have, however, taken the first step, which will open the door further. And with Charles’ input they may be more understanding.’ ‘And your idea to bring in Steve was pretty good.’ She moved and he raised his head, leaning closer to him until he closed the distance, allowing her to kiss him. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Who better to support your claim than America’s own golden boy? If they suspect foul play of some kind then Steven is the least likely of us to be corrupted.’ ‘True. Steve being caught lying when it mattered would be as likely as finding out he was HYDRA.’ Loki laughed. ‘Perhaps one of the most ridiculous notions I have ever heard.’ He bowed his head and kissed her again. ‘I do not wish to be the cause of troubles between you and your parents, buttercup, but I will fight for us, with every breath in my body.’ His words made another thought surface in her head, something she hadn’t considered, that her parents may never be okay with this, that they might not be able to accept Loki as part of her life, and when she spoke her voice was quiet and slow, as though each word were carefully constructed, deliberately thought through. ‘If they can’t accept you, accept us, even after they’ve spoken to Charles, I choose you, my prince.’ ‘Your words mean more to me than you could ever know, love.’ He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers. ‘But you should not have to choose between me and your parents.’ ‘But if I do,’ she sighed, ‘don’t get me wrong, I’ll feel awful, but what we have, what fate has brought us, we can’t squander it. We deserve this.’ ‘Let us hope for the best.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘We can worry over the rest if it happens.’ She nodded, watching him as he kissed each of her knuckles in turn. ‘Would you like a daughter, or would you worry too much?’ ‘Quite the subject change.’ He gave her a small smile. ‘If she were to be as much trouble as her mother, her taste in men as questionable, I do not doubt I will be grey prematurely, but any child we create will be the apple of my eye, the most loved being in the nine realms, along with its mother.’ ‘I don’t have questionable taste in men.’ She nudged him. ‘I have wonderful taste.’ ‘Merely stating what will be popular opinion.’ ‘If Tony Stark can accept us then everyone else should be a breeze.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘He was rather stunned by our sudden betrothal.’ He reached across and wiped a thumb under her eye. ‘You have smudged your make up, darling girl.’ ‘I’ll clean up.’ ‘Drink your coffee first. Even if Charles has spoken with your parents making them wait may not be a bad thing. Give them a chance to mull it over somewhat.’ ‘Make them stew, you mean?’ He shrugged dismissively in reply. ‘Okay.’ They sat together in complete silence as she drunk her coffee then he waited while she cleaned off her make up entirely. He didn’t like to say so but he loved when she was fresh faced. Admittedly she was still a little pink and puffy but the freckles he adored were more abundant without make up to hide them. By the time they went back out to the room she had a message from Charles on her phone, asking that she call him before she speak to her folks. She didn’t see that as a good sign. Loki kissed her temple as she sat and turned to leave but she caught his hand, stopping him. ‘Please don’t go.’ ‘Anything for you.’ He took the seat beside her, putting himself close enough that they could continue to hold hands. She smiled sadly at him as she called Charles’ number, putting the phone on speaker on the desk in front of them. ‘Thank you for calling back, Sigyn.’ Charles said warmly in answer. ‘Hi, Charles. Loki’s on speaker with me, is that okay?’ ‘Of course. Good afternoon to you, Loki.’ ‘And you, Professor.’ ‘I will get straight to the point. No doubt you want to know how it went with your parents?’ ‘A little worried but yeah, please.’ ‘Don’t be worried, they listened to the story and asked some informed questions. I think perhaps their initial reaction was out of surprise more than anything else.’ ‘That’s something, I guess.’ She gave Loki a hopeful look. ‘They have also asked to meet with you both, here at the school.’ ‘What?’ ‘They want to meet Loki, in particular, and I suggested somewhere neutral. I thought here would be somewhere you would agree to.’ ‘I appreciate it, thanks, Charles.’ She glanced at Loki. ‘That okay?’ ‘It will be fine, I’m sure.’ He smiled at her encouragingly. Sigyn sighed. She hoped it would be, she just wasn’t convinced.

Two days later Sigyn drove the two of them out to Westchester in a SHIELD SUV. Loki had never been to the school and he found the grounds and old building quite appealing. She parked out front and got out of the car, knowing they were deliberately early, and waited for Loki to come around to her side, slipping his hand into hers automatically. They were going to pack a few more of her things while they were here too. It was Jean Grey who met them just inside the doors with Scott Summers, who looked Loki over with suspicion. Loki was used to it and ignored it. Sigyn wasn’t and didn’t. ‘Just wipe that look off your face, Summers, before the wind changes and you stay like that.’ She warned him playfully as she and Jean broke their hug. ‘You always had interesting taste in men.’ He smiled at her before she hugged him. ‘I dated your brother once.’ She reminded him. ‘Exactly.’ She punched him in the arm as they parted. She had missed them the last few weeks. ‘Loki, this is Jean Grey and Scott Summers. She’s a talented telepath, he’s a talented asshat.’ They shook hands, Loki nodding to each of them in turn. ‘Has Charles told you both the story?’ ‘The great reincarnation romance? He has mentioned it.’ Jean grinned. ‘To everyone?’ ‘Just the teachers. He’s told your students you aren’t coming back and are joining The Avengers but not why. He wasn’t sure how much you wanted public.’ ‘It’s all going public.’ She explained. ‘It’ll come out anyway but Darcy, one of the assistants, wants to make a website dedicated to us and our story.’ ‘An entire website?’ Scott frowned. ‘Most of a website. She already has vines and the like of The Avengers doing weird and wonderful things, but she wants to share it and this way we don’t have to worry too much about everything being rumour.’ ‘No one will truly believe it anyway, sunbeam.’ Loki reminded her. ‘This way people may debate with the facts all they wish.’ ‘Is that my little Maia I hear?’ ‘Hank!’ Sigyn said excitedly, turning to find her favourite debating partner coming towards her with a smile on his blue furry face. He picked her up and hugged her before putting her firmly back on her feet before more introductions were made. ‘Charles has asked that you go ahead to your room and he will be with you as soon as he is finished with the meeting he is in.’ ‘Thanks.’ She turned back to Loki, holding her hand up. ‘Come on, Mischief, let’s go to my room.’ ‘How can I refuse such an offer.’ He took her hand and let her lead him up the staircase.

‘We will definitely need a larger set of shelves.’ He commented as he took in all her books, from novels and plays to text books and references. ‘I can put some in storage.’ She offered as she packed a few things into a box from her bedside table. ‘You will do no such thing.’ He said, giving her a horrified look. ‘Midgardian storage is damp, cold and quite frankly too barbaric for such treasures.’ He curved his hands in the air in front of him and in seconds the books were gone. ‘Magical storage. Much more appropriate.’ ‘Damn, do you have space for the whole room? Or at least that which I have to take?’ ‘You could create your own vault, love.’ He smiled at her, sitting as she was on the simple double bed. ‘I never could before.’ She reminded him. ‘But you accessed my vault quite easily.’ He came and sat beside her. ‘Perhaps not now, when under pressure to do so, but it is something else we can experiment with.’ ‘I’d like that.’ ‘Until then of course,’ he waved his hands and everything in the room was suddenly empty; all her drawers, units, cleared, ‘we can experiment with other things.’ ‘No funny business in the dorms.’ She smiled as he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her onto his lap. ‘Break the rules with me, Sig.’ He purred as he nuzzled at her neck. ‘Let’s make mischief.’ ‘Why are you so hard to say no to?’ She groaned as he nipped at her skin. ‘I do so love it when you say yes.’ His hands tightened on her rear. ‘Not that I am any stranger to this sort of thing,’ Charles’ voice interrupted them and Sigyn tried to jump out of Loki’s lap in shock but he had such a tight grip on her all she succeeded in doing was flipping the pair of them so she was flat on her back with him on top of her. Loki started laughing, he couldn’t help himself, it was so much like being caught as a youth again, and Sigyn’s panic only made matters worse as she pushed at him to get off her. ‘Good morning, Professor.’ He chuckled as he righted himself, enjoying the flush to her cheeks as she scrambled into a crosslegged position almost on the other side of the bed. ‘Good morning, Loki. I think you can call me Charles now, as we seem to keep meeting on such an intimate basis.’ Charles joined in his laughter. ‘Honestly, Maia, Sigyn, I have caught you in more compromising positions since you met Loki than in the last decade.’ ‘There’s a reason for that.’ She muttered as she covered her face with her hands while Loki straightened his jacket before shaking Charles’ hand. ‘And I know a good many of them.’ ‘Not that many.’ Loki assured him with a raised eyebrow. ‘Three hundred years worth is quiet a set of memories to relive and match.’ ‘I’m going to die of exhaustion before that.’ She mumbled as she got off the bed and straightened her t-shirt. ‘Asgardian constitution, love. You’ll be fine.’ ‘Can we not talk about this?’ ‘I’m sorry, I have seen you blush many times, but never as much as you have lately.’ Charles smiled warmly. ‘She goes the most beautiful shade I have ever seen.’ Loki looked between them. ‘Okay, enough. How long until my folks get here?’ ‘You must want to change the subject badly if that is your preferred distraction.’ Loki said apologetically before walking around the bed to stand before her. ‘You’re horrible to me.’ She poked him in the chest. ‘Out of love, sunbeam.’ He smiled. ‘The flush to your cheeks is adorable.’ ‘You do it so damn easily.’ She complained as Charles came further into the room. ‘You have half an hour before your parents arrive.’ Charles answered her question. ‘I thought we may be best meeting in my office and,’ he glanced around, ‘as you seem to be packed already perhaps you would like to give Loki a tour?’ ‘Above ground level only?’ She checked and Charles nodded. ‘For now. We can’t allow him to see all of our secrets on the first visit, can we?’ He smiled. ‘It would take me more than half an hour for that anyway.’ She slid her hand into Loki’s and looked up at him. ‘Come on, Chaos, let’s give you the two cent tour. ‘I’m sure it’s worth more than that, petal.’ He allowed her to pull him from the room. ‘I’ll see you in your office in a bit.’ She called back to Charles as they left.

Loki had to admire the craftsmanship of the old house, plenty of carved wood and paintings lined the walls and Sigyn pointed out certain features in hushed tones as class was still in session, the hallways silent. ‘This was my classroom.’ She whispered as they edged up to the door that stood part open, and she could just see Ororo Monroe at the front, speaking animatedly about the topic she had started before she left; Little Women, another of Sigyn’s favourite books, discussing the difference in ambitions between each of the March girls. One of the students glanced up and spotted her, smiling broadly before nudging the boy beside him and soon the whisper of her name ran through the room until Ororo herself glanced at the door then beckoned her inside with a smile of her own. ‘Class, looks like we have a visitor. Oh, two.’ Her smile faltered slightly as Sigyn opened the door enough that she could step inside, meaning Ororo could see Loki beside her. ‘Just wait there a sec.’ Sigyn smiled at him as she stepped inside. ‘Hi, everyone.’ She waved but most of the kids were more interested in who she had left outside and soon his name was being whispered by the class as well and she sighed, pushed the door open and pulled him in by his sleeve. ‘Yes, this is Loki of Asgard, one of The Avengers.’ She glanced back to find his expression guarded but somewhat nervous. One of the girls near to the back raised her hand and Sigyn smiled at her. ‘Yes, Emily?’ ‘Professor X said you weren’t coming back.’ She pulled on her sleeve nervously as she lowered her hand. ‘Officially I’m not.’ Sigyn explained. ‘I have a meeting with the Professor and had to clear out my room. I’ll miss you all though.’ A boy raised his hand then, more confident in the light of his classmate breaking the ice, but didn’t wait to be asked. ‘Why are you with him?’ He said the last word as though it were a dirty word, one that left a bitter taste in his mouth. ‘Lance, change your tone. That’s not how we treat guests.’ Ororo pulled him up on it immediately but he continued to scowl at Loki. ‘Loki is,’ Sigyn sighed, ‘it’s complicated but will be public knowledge soon enough.’ ‘He tried to take over the planet.’ The boy spat and Loki realised while he may be a student he was considerably on the large side, such as Thor was as they grew, broad and tall, but that didn’t stop Sigyn walking up to his desk confidently, completely nonplussed. ‘And the Professor has verified the story The Avengers released, that Loki was coerced into his actions.’ She said firmly. ‘If you accuse Loki of willingly partaking in events, Lance, you are calling the Professor a liar.’ He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and Loki was impressed by how much respect her words seemed to command. He had not seen her fully in this capacity. ‘Is that what you meant?’ ‘No, ma’am.’ He muttered reluctantly. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think Loki heard your apology.’ ‘Sorry.’ Lance said loudly, glancing up at the God in question. ‘None necessary, I quite understand.’ Loki replied diplomatically. ‘But accusations help no-one.’ Sigyn looked back at him. ‘You will all hear a lot of things over the next few weeks, about me and Loki, and the truth is very complicated, but no more complicated than having a teacher who can teleport.’ She walked to the front of the class where she and Ororo hugged briefly. ‘If you want to do some research then there will be official documentation online in due course, but if you want my side, our side,’ she beckoned Loki to her, ‘it’s something you’re going to have to take on trust for now, but you’re all old enough to make your own, informed decisions, if you want to hear it. If you don’t mind, Miss Monroe?’ ‘Not at all.’ She smiled. There was a general murmuring through the class of the positive kind and Ororo offered Loki a chair, which Sigyn encouraged him to take as she sat on the desk as she often did when teaching. ‘You all know that I have powers that I can’t use?’ She knew that was the line the school had always given, leaving it to the individual as to what they believed. ‘It turns out there was a really good reason for that, but you have to let me give you a little background. When I was young, I mean really young, just a kid, I had really vivid dreams where I was fighting mythical monsters with heroic princes, using magic and sword, and they were…amazing.’ She said animatedly and Loki smiled to himself. She was a delight to watch. ‘But then I reached my teens and, as a lot of you did, things changed.’ Loki noticed a lot of the pupils nodding their agreement, they knew what it was like, and as she hopped off the desk again and walked between the rows of desks she had their complete attention. ‘I started giving off powers in random bursts that left me unconscious. I couldn’t control it. Professor Xavier found me and brought me here, just like all of you. We tried for years to get my powers to behave…they wouldn’t.’ She laughed. ‘I lost count of how many times I passed out pretty quickly, and despite me being of no use as a mutant Professor X let me stay here and study, and then come back as a teacher once I finished college.’ One of the girls at the back of the class raised her hand slightly as she reached her and Sigyn gave her her full attention. ‘Sophie?’ ‘Why did your powers do that? Does Professor X know?’ ‘We do now.’ She nodded. ‘Good question, by the way.’ She patted the girl’s shoulder as she passed the girl she gained a proud smirk. ‘All we could put it down to before was that I lacked control, which is normal in the early days, Robert, put that gum away, but I never gained it, I could never stop my body shutting down whenever I used my powers, so we stopped trying.’ The boy who had been crinkling paper under his desk sat bolt upright when she caught him and handed her the gum as she held her hand out to him as she passed. Loki suppressed a laugh. She was such a natural with them. ‘A few weeks ago Professor X recommended me for a role at The Avengers Tower, being Loki’s guide to all things Earth. It was through this position that we met, obviously, but it soon became apparent something else was going on.’ Charles edged up to the door where he could hear Sigyn talking to the class, explaining what had happened between her and Loki in such a way that it was a matter of fact, and he beckoned her parents forward, as they had arrived early. They stood and watched as their little girl explained how they had discovered the truth behind her previous life, how Thor had known who she was from the moment he saw her, how Loki had helped her harness her powers once they realised what it was, offering a small display of what she was now capable of without breaking her speech; and finally how she and Loki had their second chance. She spoke so genuinely, obviously from the heart, her eyes drifting back to the man who would be her husband often, and his gaze never strayed from her, lovingly watching her every movement. It was so far from what they expected it surprised them, in a good way. Sigyn took questions from the class, answering as best she could, even Loki replying to the few directed at him, his tone never becoming remotely harsh or disdainful as they would have expected. Finally they all seemed satisfied with what they had been told and Ororo dismissed the class. ‘I didn’t mean to disrupt your lesson.’ Sigyn apologised to Ororo as she came fully back to the front, Loki standing as she did. ‘I am very glad you did. I would not have been able to have explained your absence so succinctly, and I do not think the class were the only ones to appreciate such honesty.’ She nodded across the room to the door and Sigyn turned in time to see her parents come in followed by Charles, now that the class had finished leaving. She stepped back into Loki, his hand falling on her waist automatically as she watched them for their reaction, not knowing how much they had heard, or how much they believed, but when her mom stopped halfway across the room and opened her arms welcomingly Sigyn couldn’t stop her feet from taking her forward, didn’t want to try, and before she knew it she was in a tight hug with both her parents, each of them speaking softly about how sorry they were, how they were willing to try and accept these changes, and it was enough to make her well up, her throat constricting with so much positive emotion. Ororo left the room and diverted her next class to the nearest exit; it was a nice day and they could take this one outside; Charles closed the door, allowing privacy for this moment and joined Loki at the desk, each of them waiting patiently. Eventually Sigyn released her folks, sliding her hands down their arms to take their hands and pulling them with her towards Loki. ‘Mom, Dad, this is Loki. Officially. You need to get used to him because he’s not going anywhere.’ Loki bowed his head and offered his hand, and to her surprise it was her dad who took it first. ‘You take care of her and we won’t have a problem.’ ‘I intend on doing just that.’ Loki promised. ‘Told you.’ Sigyn smiled at him, despite the tears staining her cheeks. ‘You were correct, as always, sunbeam.’ He smiled at her before raising her mom’s hand to kiss her knuckles. ‘It is truly a great honour to meet the couple who brought my beautiful Sigyn back into the realms.’ ‘Sigyn?’ Her dad looked at her curiously and she shrugged. ‘I like it.’ ‘You’ll always be my little Maia.’ He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. ‘I guess I will.’ And she realised it was something she wouldn’t change, something she would happily keep. Maia’s family deserved to keep her as that, even though she felt more like Sigyn. She didn’t mind, she rather liked it. She had been lucky to have both lives not only with family who loved her but with the same man, who loved her unconditionally.

Chapter 85

#loki #loki fanfiction #Loki/Sigyn #Loki/OFC #loki x sigyn #loki x ofc #Avengers #Avengers Redemption #reincarnation

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highwaywhump · 4 years

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795: the first night

I’m fairly new at this, but my first whump piece of course had to feature a boxboy. The story is still in the works, although I think I have a pretty rough outline of it all. Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, but I’m doing my best. Good and bad critique is much appreciated, and let me know if I should add any other trigger warnings! (Also, Thomas calls him ‘kid’, but he’s 19.)

TW/CW: boxboy, cage mention, shock collar and shocking mention, regular collar, (brief) beating mention.

795 was prepared to sleep on the floor or in a cage, or even in the box he came in, but the box had promptly been dismantled for firewood and the man with the beard had told him “the first room up the stairs on the right is yours”.

He didn’t ask questions, of course not. Just bowed his head, looked to the floor and said “yes, Master,” just like he had been taught to. He was a good boxboy, and he was going to be the best boxboy that Master had ever had.

“Jesus, don’t call me that,” the bearded man had said as he flipped through the manual that had come with 795 in the box. His tone wasn’t harsh, but maybe slightly strained, and he cleared his throat afterwards. He didn’t seem quite at ease.

795 caught himself wanting to look up at the man, not Master anymore, but stopped and kept his eyes trained on one of the circles in the hardwood floors, where a branch would be attached if the floorboard still was a tree. “W-what would you like me to call you instead, Sir?” he asked.

Immediately, he regretted the sentence. Don’t stutter. Never presume. Back at the training facility he would already be writhing in pain on the floor if Handler Mason had caught him stuttering and assuming titles. How could he manage to mess up already, a mere five minutes in? He shut his eyes, the muscles in his shoulders tightening and his jaw clenching in anticipation of the pain that was both sharp and dull at the same time.

It didn’t come. His owner was still fixated on the manual. No little, black controller in sight. “Uhm... my name’s Thomas, that should work?” he eventually said after a bit of hesitation. His voice was questioning, unsure, but it was a lifeline for 795.

“Yes, thank you, Sir Thomas.” His spoke clearly now, there was no stuttering. He was a good boy.

The bearded man sighed. “I didn’t ... whatever.”

795 wanted to smile - he didn’t, of course not, but he had done something correctly. He didn’t need positive reinforcement to know that, he just needed relief from the pain, to have any pressure removed. If he wasn’t punished for something, it meant it didn’t warrant punishment, and it meant that he had been good.

What followed was a quick house tour. The bearded man showed him the kitchen, “could you maybe cook two meals a day, breakfast and dinner? I get usually get takeaway for lunch. And cook something for yourself too, while you’re at it, you’re awfully skinny. Write down any groceries you need - you can write, right? - and then I’ll get them on the way home.” 795 was shown the living room, with what looked like a comfortable couch with dark green pillows and a flatscreen opposing it, and the study, which was dark and full of books, and had a wooden desk, and a fireplace and an old armchair with worn leather. 795 nodded and said “yes, Sir Thomas,” as he followed his owner around the house and eagerly picked up every single word the bearded man said. He was to keep everything clean, do and fold the laundry, cook twice a day, answer the door “if it ever rang” and feed the fish in the aquarium in the living room.

It had already been late when 795 first arrived, and even though the bearded man tried to keep the tour short, the house was big and there was a lot to go through. His name was Thomas Walker, a college professor with a few book deals and two doctorates under his belt, and all alone in a big, empty house after his brother died. The house was too big to take care off all alone, and the couple of different maids he had had in the past didn’t really cut it when it came to company (after all, they were there to clean, not talk), so when a younger colleague talked about these boxboys, he quietly listened. “Great little things, they do everything you say and never complain, and they’re just a one-time investment. My uncle has two!”

Thomas was a history professor, and one who specialized in the modern era at that, so he knew a thing or two about slavery. Initially, this whole keeping human beings as pets-thing seemed off to him, but maybe that was just because he had read so extensively on the French revolution and the ideals of the enlightenment - liberty and equality and all that.

But his colleague taught sociology, and he was okay with it, so Thomas looked it up and found a legit website that matched the billboards he sometimes caught a glimpse of when going down the highway. They advertised their ...merchandise to be “eager to please”, “user-friendly” and “perfect companions”. The website proclaimed that all parties were of legal consenting age and had signed a clear and informative contract, and were in the programme by their own free will.

Thomas took a weekend to think it over, a weekend spent pacing about the big, empty house, listening to the deafeing silence and his own thoughts, watching the dust collect in the many window sills and on his late brother’s bed. On monday afternoon, he made the call. A month later, when coming home from a late night preparing lectures at work, he returned to find a sizeable wooden box sitting on the porch.

It was well over midnight when Thomas, 795 in tow, ended up in his brother’s room. It was cold and dusty, and the light flickered a few times when the light switch was pushed. It was a long time since it had been used.

“So you’ll sleep here, as I mentioned. There are some clothes for you in the closet, I think they should fit, and towels in the bathroom.”

“Yes, Sir Thomas,” 795 said, still delighted with the honor of being allowed to address his owner by his first name. His new life seemed to be a comfortable one, for a boxboy that is. There would be a lot of housework, and since the house was so big, it would take up a fair share of his time. But work was good, he had been taught that. He knew that as long as a he was working, he was useful, and useful boxboys were taken care of. Sir Thomas seemed much less aggressive and much kinder than Handler Mason as well.

“Oh, and, uh, I got you this. Apparently, the laws are pretty strict about them, but I found one I think you’ll like,” Thomas said and picked up something from the dresser beside the door. It was a leather collar, tan, with a brass buckle. It didn’t look as wide and stiff as the ones frequently used at the training facility, which were often accompanied by the black box at the neck and the black controller in the handler’s hand - the type of collar boxboys were sent off with, the type 795 was presently wearing.

It seemed to be just a regular collar, soft, one might used for a dog.

Before Thomas could do anything, 795 kneeled before him and bent his head to reveal the buckle at his neck.

He knew how important collars were. Handler Mason had made sure to beat that lesson into him, quite literally.

“Well, uhm, okay,” Thomas said. He sounded caught off guard and a little unsure, and for a split second, 795 thought he had done something wrong. But then, he felt Sir Thomas’ fingers at the nape of his neck, carefully and a little clumsily undoing the tightly buckled shock collar. He eventually unlatched it and drew it away.

For the few seconds 795′s neck was naked, he was enveloped in fear. He could feel his heart rate speeding up and his hands, which thankfully were clasped together in his lap, started shaking. Somewhere, deep inside, in the very back of his mind, Handler Mason’s voice rose up to meet him.

“You goddamn brat, thought you could get away with-”

“There you go.” Thomas said and gave the boy’s shoulder an awkward, but friendly pat once the new collar, thin, soft, not nearly as tight as the previous one, was fastened.

“Thank you for collaring me, Sir Thomas,” 795 shakily said, swallowing. Thomas was oblivious to the fear in his eyes. But with the familiar feeling of a band of safety around his neck, the fear eventually died down and disappeared.

“Yeah, no worries, kid. Good night.”

795 didn’t move from his blind and helpless position on the cold floor until the bedroom door closed and Thomas’ steps faltered down the stairs. Only when he couldn’t hear them anymore did he slowly get up, almost all alone in a big house.

It felt weird to Thomas to be putting a collar on another human being, but laws were laws, and the kid seemed more than thankful to get one - and he seemed as eager to please as the billboards, website and the lady on the phone had promised. Overall, he didn’t think it was a bad investment. A pricy one, sure, but money had never really been a problem. Academia seldom brings riches, but book deals often do, and the inheritance didn’t hurt either. So Thomas fell asleep that night, slightly less alone in the big house than he had been for a long while.

#whump #boxboy #tw shock collar #tw cage #tw beating

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jackblankhsh · 6 years

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Why I Quit: Being a Cupid

The bus drove on oblivious of the man on its roof. Comb-over whipping in the wind, Simon aimed his veritable hand cannon at me. Seeing him, I jerked the steering wheel, and stomped the gas pedal. Scant inches to spare I maneuvered a small sedan between me and Simon. Regardless, he fired, startling the driver – bullets hitting a car will do that. She swerved. Her car ricocheted off mine then careened into the bus before she hit the brakes.

The bus shuddered. Simon slipped and fell. He caught himself, but the gun popped out of his hands. When it fell to the street below I saw finally an opportunity.

I sped ahead of the bus, cautious after the side swipe, slowed. Cutting in front of the transport, I set the cruise control then jammed the steering wheel in place by spearing an arrow into the dashboard. The car fished-tailed slightly, but I no longer cared about my own safety. I had a job to do.

Slinging on my crossbow, I climbed onto the roof of the sedan. The bus driver observing my – for lack of a better term – bizarre behavior, sped up to move away from me. However, as I anticipated, the space between us remained too tight. His initial instinct to speed up merely closed the gap between our respective vehicles. The chance remained slim, but I took it anyway.

Before the bus could veer into another lane, I leapt onto the front windshield. Fingers grasping the lip of the window I noticed the terrified expression on the driver's face.

I shouted, "Don't worry. I'm a cupid." Then I pulled myself up onto the roof.

When Simon saw me he shook his head.

He said, "You just don't give up."

"You'll thank me when you're not dying alone."

"I don't love Becky Rutledge."

Aiming my crossbow I said, "Not yet, but you will."

I fired. He dodged the arrow. There's something about a pear-shaped man sidestepping a flying bolt that makes you wonder why the universe chose this moment to remind a couch potato he possessed an athletic potential previously untapped, especially as he charges forward screaming. Sighing, I braced for the impact.

He dove into me, and as we sailed off the bus I couldn't help feeling Simon didn't think this move through entirely. Yes, it occurred to me he might rather die than fall in love with Becky Rutledge, yet, I couldn't help feeling his irrational behavior undermined any hint of him thinking ahead. After all, it seemed irrational to me that folks so often feared falling in love with people they wouldn't normally choose. And I saw it all the time. In many ways, Cupids are second only to Grim Reapers (which I tried to join first, but the union is very strict on hiring policy; apparently, you can't enjoy the job).

So Simon and I floated what felt like forever, though was probably only a second or two, enough time to ponder this job in its entirety. I took the gig as a temp position. Like the IRS cupids tend to hire entire divisions around their main season. While the IRS hires around April, cupids obviously employ around Valentine's Day. All I knew when I took the job is that I'd be paid forty bucks an hour to chase people through the city, and shoot them with arrows. Particulars other than that didn't really matter to me.

The fact that the bolts are some kind of carbon and metaphysical composite -- I didn't entirely understand the science so won't try to explain things. Suffice it to say it's like shooting someone with a giant syringe that leaves no wound. If nothing else, the job offers fantastic medical benefits. A facet I soon appreciated since, as luck would have it, we landed on my car, still sloppily cruising in front of the bus.

I felt my spine crackle in a way that could not be good, though it did distract me for a moment from Simon rabbit punching my face. Reaching into the quiver strapped to my thigh I pulled out a bolt, and stabbed it into his side. His eyes went watery for a second then sparkled.

"Becky," he whispered wistfully, and fell back. Grabbing his shirt I tried to pull him back, but we both fell off the car. Fortunately not into the path of the oncoming bus, though didn't make our spill any less painful. .

"Then for good measure you stabbed him another seventeen times," head Cupid, Gloria Fletcher, summarized the end of my report.

I nodded, "Yes, ma'am. I really wanted him to... love her."

Gloria cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sure."

"And if I may, I wouldn't call it 'stabbing.' Like they say in training, I think of it as a forceful prod."

She nodded, "Next time you feel the need to, uh, emphasize things, maybe don't hold them down on the pavement, prodding them repeatedly in public."

It felt like asking a lot, but I assured her I would do my best. Dismissed, I left the office longing for the comfort of a cold beer, and a handful of Oxy. Heading into the break room to grab some pills from a communal barrel, I ran into Floyd, my trainer.

The second he saw me he said, "Damn, you look fucked up."

"Good thing my heart is lighter than my looks."

"Whatever you say Surrey."

Smirking I said, "If I'm Surrey then does that make you Richard?"

"If I'm the third of anything, it's the man; I'm the third man."

I replied, "Well then Mr. Lime, is your view of the world still the same?"

"It is as constant as the northern star," Floyd said. We shared a laugh. This mixing of references helped us pass the time. The game here involved trying to trip up the other by sharing a reference to a film, or play in hopes the other would be forced to admit being unfamiliar with the source. Of course, all the while conversation is meant to go on fluidly. One couldn't simply make an oblique reference. In a way, it amounted to conversational chess, attempting to steer one another into a corner.

Pointing at my arm Floyd said, "That’s a nasty bit of road rash."

Glancing at it I shrugged, "Could be worse. Fell off a car doing about thirty. Managed to land on my target though, so he took the worst of it."

Sipping a cup of coffee -- likely more whiskey than java -- Floyd remarked, "Yesterday I got assigned this fellow in Elk Grove Village. Turns out there's a lady thinks they’re -- and I quote – 'destined to be together.’”

"Oh that's the worst," I said. Worse than the target running is that person always trying to block the arrow.

Leaning forward he invited me to feel the back of his head. I winced when my fingers touched the mound of a large goose egg.

Floyd chuckled, "Hit me with a brick. I never saw her coming."

"At least that's all she did," curious I added, "Who's he falling for?"

"Bill is in love with..." his expression implied the effort to squeeze the detail out of his brain, but eventually he managed, "Kevin? Ray?"

"Is he bi?" I asked, hoping the woman wasn't completely delusional. Floyd shook his head. I sighed, "Well then she needs to move on."

"She can fuck a barbed wire dildo for all I care," Floyd said gingerly feelingt he back of his head..

Rummaging in the fridge I found a frosty beer. Not my preferred brand, but it would do. Washing down the Oxy I said, "Come on man, she's just crazy-lonely. There's a lot of folks like that."

More than I ever suspected it seemed. I've worked jobs where people attempted to bribe me, and I won't lie, I've accepted many of those offers. However, in this gig it didn't feel right. I'll let a thief into a gated community, sure, but taking bribes to stitch heartstrings felt wrong. Still, a day didn't go by where I wouldn't receive some kind of solicitation, from the subtle to the obvious:

"What price is love, eh?" to; "Give her to me, and you can fuck her anytime you want. Or me. What are you into? We'll make it happen."

People are willing to go to incredible limits not to be alone.

Floyd said, "I hear ya buddy, but the heart wants what it wants..."

He trailed off waiting for me to respond, "Not what it's told."

One of many training slogan instructors offered to help us wrap our minds around what we did. This one supposedly applied to more than arrow dodgers and bolt blockers. It hypothetically reminded trainees there isn't a choice only the illusion of one. It bugged me then, but I wasn't being paid to debate the possibility of free will, so my poverty consented to the not wholly appetizing task of deciding for others.

The next day I went to collect my assignments. Lowell, my handler, passed me a sheet covered in names. Lowell lived behind his desk in the same way an agoraphobic is likely to be trapped in a house. His expression became one of almost certain panic whenever he left the safe confines of his work space. The bank of computer screens on his desk connected him to the outside world, and I have never met a person less inclined to human interaction.

Making only the briefest eye contact, he handed me a sheet saying, “Twelve couples. Then take tomorrow off.”

“Why?” I said, “Twelve is no big deal.”

“You’ve got a black arrow,” he said. His gaze flickered at me, his expression showing the nervous apprehension that I might linger to discuss this turn of events.

From what I knew about the system, a bank of super computers collected data about everyone. In the past this used to be done by field agents, hence the prevailing distrust of cupids in most circles. The old days resulted in more frequent errors: targets bonded despite being obvious mismatches. The results of an equation are only as accurate as the numbers put in, and observational data often meant a certain degree of guessed at figures. However, in the modern era, thanks to social media, the percentage of errors dropped dramatically.

Think of it like the NSA gathering data in order to run your online dating profile. When they feel they’ve found a match with the highest percentage of probable success, a cupid’s arrow gets shot in your chest, bonding you for life to whomever the equations chose. However, black arrows are another matter entirely. They indicated a high probability of a bad romance. What exactly that entailed varied, but someone would be heart scarred by the situation. Black arrows often bonded sweet people to abusive nightmares, one-sided loves, cheaters, psychos, etc.

I said, “I’ve never gotten a black arrow.”

“Then you’re lucky,” Lowell said gruffly.

I almost felt like staying just to make him sweat, but I said, “The heart wants what it wants…”

“That’s what they say.”

Perched on a rooftop overlooking a Polish smorgasbord I waited. The cold felt mild. A stretch of subzero days made thirty feel balmy. I watched a couple stroll along the sidewalk. They walked hand in hand jokingly regretting having overeaten.

One said to the other, “I just want to flop on the couch, and slip into a food coma.”

“Long as I can lie with you, sounds good to me.”

I smiled. They kissed. I wondered if they started with a cupid’s bolt. Some folks still try to hunt love down on their own. Auditioning for sex has never been my strong suit, probably because I refer to dating as auditioning for sex. However, I’ve never really been one to sit around waiting for an arrow.

Before going out I asked Floyd about black arrows. He thought a hard minute before saying, “All I know is they aren’t guaranteed to last. I’ve done dozens, maybe a hundred of ‘em, and that’s what I always remind myself. It doesn’t have to last.”

His answer didn’t help me feel better. Impermanence of any kind implied that no arrow meant forever. In a way, that should’ve comforted me: what I did became less permanent. However, it made it seem pointless. This job started to feel like emotional fascism.

Prompted by an email from Lowell, Gloria caught me before I headed out.

She said, “Hey, you know what the real myth about love is?”

“What?” I asked not sure I wanted to know.

“That it’s always for the best. Sometimes it’s glue keeping us from moving.”

I said, “And that’s for the best?”

She shrugged, “Maybe. Why’s it always got to be a good thing?”

“Because it’s love.”

She snorted in disdainful surprise, “Never expected that from you. I thought you’d end up one of the old dogs like me, or Floyd – the ones who know better.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said, not at all sorry to.

Gloria nodded, “I’ve still got hope for you.”

Lights in the smorgasbord started to wink out. Red curtains got pulled shut. The wait staff trickled out, a few mingling out front to smoke and chit-chat about the evening. Spotting my target among them I loaded a bolt. I took aim.

I thought, “It’ll end. Doesn’t matter why, it won’t last.”

I tried not to think of a black eye, broken jaw, battered bloody bruised – I fired.

From below:

“Ow!”

“Damn, are you okay?”

“Holy shit that’s a cupid’s arrow!”

“Someone’s about to fall in love.”

“Awww lucky.”

“If you only knew,” I said. The next morning I went into the break room. Floyd glanced at me. The look on my face said it all. He gave me a tight bear hug.

Whispering in my ear he said, “Not everyone can do it.”

“I can do it,” I said, “I just hate living with it.”

I filled my pockets with pills from the barrel – one pocket to sell, the other to consume – then marched into Gloria’s office to inform her, “I quit.”

“Damn shame.” She shook her head, “If you ever get the nerve, there’ll be a job here for you.”

“Thanks?” I said, not sure I meant it until days later. Leaving the building I stepped onto the sidewalk. Taking a deep breath I lit a cigarette. As I exhaled that first cloud an arrow hit me in the stomach.

Looking at it I said, “I really hope someone’s just trying to kill me.”

#romance #weird #comedy #darkcomedy #writer #writing #fiction #shortstory #valentinesday #postvalentines #honestyisnotcontagious #whyiquit #cupid #dating

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theforgottengn · 7 years

Text

Oh Captain, My Captain

Characters: Bravo, Charlie, Whiskey, Tango, Yankee, Foxtrot, Johnson, Captain

Word Count: 1,912

Trigger Warning: None.

A/N: @mooberg asked me, once upon a time, how Cap got her name and I gave a shitty answer in return. I’m sorta still in the world-building/figuring things out stage so forgive me. But anyway, I recently had this idea and liked it a lot better so I wrote this.

Summary: Bravo and co are mysteriously called over to The Yard one day. Then Johnson reveals that the H.E.R.A.C.L.E.S. overseers are implementing something new to the teams. The only catch is that they want to test it out with Bravo Company first. And it’s the last thing that any of them would’ve expected; a puppy.

XXXXX

The sun beat down hard and hot; forcing them to stop every few seconds to wipe the sweat off their faces and foreheads. But it was no use since they were running the inner perimeter. Usually their PT, early morning exercise, was left up to them, but, today was check duty so they did not get that choice. But to beat two birds with one stone they ran the perimeter instead of walking it.

Bravo stopped mid-run to wipe a large drop of sweat from his forehead.

Someone runs into him from behind; shoving him hard. He wobbles on the balls of his feet and starts to tumble. But, he catches himself before he falls on his face. Looking up he makes eye contact with the culprit. Charlie’s blue-gray eyes and thin pink lips smile at him as he jogs backward.

“You need to watch where you’re stopping, buddy!”

Charlie turns around and continues his run. Chuckling slightly to himself Bravo picks up momentum again; trying to match his friend’s pace. After a few minutes he catches up to Charlie and he nudges him in the shoulder. Smiling happily Charlie slows down and removes a headphone from an ear; signaling to Bravo that he was ready to talk.

“What’s up?”

Bravo shrugs; “Nothing much. Just wondering about that top-secret assignment Johnson talked about last night. You remember?”

“Aren’t all of our assignments top-secret? But, yeah, I remember.” Charlie says with a nod.

“I’m just a bit worried about it is all. Things are rarely good with him.”

Charlie nods solemnly but says nothing. As the pair falls back into silence Bravo wraps his arms around Charlie’s shoulders and pulls him close in an embrace. He didn’t want to, or maybe he couldn’t, admit that he wasn’t just worried about the assignment. He was worried that Johnson was lying and there was no assignment.

Then the voice of their handler echoes loudly though the PA system’s loudspeakers; “Bravo Company; report to The Yard by 0900.”

XXXXX

The group arrived in The Yard at precisely 0900 and Johnson was already waiting for them. He stood with his hands behind his back in front of what looked like an obstacle course. It started with a wire mesh that was meant to be crawled under, then there was a collection of three hurdles which increased in difficulty, and then there was a tunnel which was to be crawled through. In the middle was a staircase. Then there were four more sections; a narrow ramp, an incline ramp and a selection of small circle raised platforms which were all of varying heights and distances away from each other.

But, each of them knew better than to question their handler. His temper was not something to be trifled with.

“As I told you all last night you’ll be conducting a special assignment. But what I did not tell you is that this particular assignment will last as long as possible; weeks, months even.” Johnson said with his booming, commanding voice.

“This assignment comes from on high so I don’t want to hear any grumbling from you all, is that clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the group shouts in unison.

Johnson nods and removes his hands from behind his back. A bright red pet leash is wrapped around his fist. And the leash is attached to a thick black collar. The collar is around the neck of a small German shepherd pup. The puppy’s fur is that well-known black and tan mottled color but it looks lighter underneath the light of the beating sun. The dog sits next to Johnson calmly.

“Meet your newest team member.”

“She doesn’t have a name yet and we’re leaving that up to you. But even though she’s all of yours they want the majority of the responsibilities to fall to you Bravo. So you’re going to have to train her, feed her, bath her, walk her and all that jazz. You ready for that?”

“Yes, sir. I am, sir,” Bravo says with a serious nod.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

With that Johnson passes the leash over to Bravo and tells him to run the course with the dog. The puppy doesn’t move during the exchange which confuses him. He assumed that most young dogs would be energetic and running around. Bending down he carefully unhooks the leash from the collar. His hand brushes the dog’s fur and it’s surprisingly very soft.

Just as the collar is removed the dog shoots off and starts to run the course by herself.

“Well, then, somebody’s antsy,” Bravo mutters under his breath.

XXXXX

“So, didja think of a name for her yet?” Charlie asked him at lunch later that day. The dog was hiding out in their barrack; safe from the other operatives who were bound to ask questions. Bravo was given a large amount of dog-owning related stuff to house in the barrack, including but not limited to; a pet bed, a fur comb, matching metal food and water bowls, and a massive bag of dry dog food. He made sure to give the dog some food before they left.

“I only had her for a few hours, buddy. So no.”

Whiskey and Tango both sat down at the table with their trays. Tango turned around in his seat and loudly waved Fox and Yankee over. Whiskey leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the table. Lighting a cigarette he took a few drags before joining in on the conversation.

“You need to pick something soon, Boss. Or else you’re gonna be calling her what for the rest of your life? Dog? Girl?”

“Oh yeah, Dog is a fucking great name,” Tango said sarcastically through a mouthful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. “No, hold on a minute,” he continued pointing a finger at Bravo. “What about Dog-Girl? That’s even better.”

Tango laughed loudly and Yankee gave him a look that said Oh, shut the fuck up as he sat down.

“Do–don’t stress about it. You–yo–You’ll think of so–something good, I know it,” Fox said as he chewed on his thumbnail. Bravo nodded his thanks and went back to his cheeseburger.

The group flipped through short conversations and multiple topics with ease and familiarity as they ate. Periods of silence were natural, short, and not very often. When he finished his lunch Bravo sat back and watched his teammates talk. Tango’s hands flew about in wild and pointless gesticulation as always. Whiskey blew smoke rings and clouds, as he talked, that dispersed into the air like they were never there in first place. Foxtrot added a few quick sentences to whatever conversation but then went back to his food. Yankee ate in total silence never once adding anything to the conversation. And Charlie energetically spoke in the fast-paced, half-mumbled way that his voice only would take on when the six of them where alone.

XXXXX

Johnson told them that they were to be dismissed from going on any missions for the next couple weeks while they all got used to having the dog around.

“But don’t you all think for one second that this means you have all this free time,” he said sternly. “You’ll be spending all your time training the dog. Everyone needs to get familiar with her because if this works well then you’ll be spending a lot more time with her.”

So after lunch they jogged back to their barrack and checked in on the dog.

Bravo opened the door to see the small puppy sitting there; patiently waiting for their return. She barked happily and wagged her tail upon seeing his face. He smiled and bent down to pick her. Holding her in his arms like a baby her face is inches away from his. She sticks her small pink tongue out and licks his nose.

He pets her for a while and then sets her back down.

She runs over to Charlie who lies on a bunk; reading For Your Eyes Only. His arm hangs over the side and the dog lovingly licks his fingers. His eyes go wide in surprise but then he smiles and scratches her behind the ears. Meanwhile Bravo rifles through the pet care supplies looking for her leash. Unable to find it he starts to throw things out of the pile. A bright red ball falls onto the floor near Yankee, who sits in the middle of the floor on his laptop, and the dog bounds after it; yipping happily.

“Anybody know where I put her leash?”

A chorus of no’s float through the room.

“Great help, guys,” he grumbles as he goes back to looking. He gives up on finding the leash and whistles to the dog. “Come here, girl. Come on, let’s go.” The dog turns at sound of his voice and rushes over to him. Yankee shoots Bravo a sad look that says Hey, we were playing! Bravo shrugs in return.

“Girl? That’s the name you picked?” Tango calls tauntingly.

“No.”

“You gotta pick one, buddy,” Charlie says without looking up from his book. “We’re not gonna stick with Girl. That’s just plain stupid.”

“I know, I know,” Bravo mutters as he and the dog leave.

XXXXX

They jog over to The Yard in perfect unison. Luckily enough no other operatives are out and about so no one sees either Bravo or the dog. But the closer they get the faster the puppy rushes ahead of him.

Someone’s excited.

“Hold on,” he calls to her but she doesn’t stop. He shakes his head and jogs faster to catch up. When he arrives at the small obstacle course the pup is already there; waiting. But just as he gets within hearing range the dog shoots off and starts the course by herself. Again.

“Hey! Girl! Come back here!”

She stops on the top of the steps that lay in the middle of the course and gives him a confused look. He points to the spot next to him and says; “Come.” She reluctantly obeys his command; walking back with her tail between her legs and a sad look on her face. But when she makes it to him he picks her up and he looks at her sternly. His candy-apple green eyes meet her deep, dark almost black, almond-shaped ones.

“You think you’re captain of this ship, don’t you? Well you’re not and…”

His eyes widen slightly, with the sudden realization, and a smile forms on his face. The puppy cocks her head to the side; looking at him with a confused expression.

“Hey, wait. That fits you pretty well doesn’t it? Captain. You like that name, huh? Captain?”

She happily licks his face in response.

He sets her back down on the ground and says; “And we can call you Cap for short.”

She wags her tail happily. He smiles down at her and then starts to run the course. Captain quickly follows him and this time she doesn’t run ahead. They run the whole course together four times before falling down in exhaustion. She gets up and walks over to him; pacing the ground and snuggling up next to him before falling asleep. When her breathing slows with deep sleep Bravo wraps his arm around her small body.

“Captain. Yeah, I like that a lot.”

#hope y'all like this better #the first one sucked #story snippet #the forgotten #bravo company #agent bravo #agent charlie #agent whiskey #agent tango #agent yankee #agent foxtrot #commander johnson #captain the dog

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delightfulnerdinfluencer-blog · 7 years

Text

Misunderstandering Chapter 3 A Mystic Messenger Fanfic

Trigger warning: graphic imagery!

The scenery blurred into a smear of differing shades of grays, browns, and white as the tiny sports car drove passed. Weaving in and out of traffic at speeds that some might seem dangerous. The sun trying to peer through clouds was blinding at times. With the thump of the subwoofers rattling in his chest; Saeyong ran through his plan for the 100th time. He was doing his best to get into the mindset that use to be so easy to fall into. That of the cold and calculated agent, because right now Saeyong wanted to go home.

He forced himself not to look at Sky University or Jumin’s building as he passed. Agent 707 had no family or friends. The man in his ear was not his brother but a handler much like Vanderwood. He was going into a war zone. He had been in many over his years as a hacker. That was the mindset he needed to be in. The man who walked into war zones with guns echoing in the air while he worked in the darkness. Saeyong needed to be the man who crossed into North Korea to steal information. Back then it was so easy to put everything out of his mind. The man who no plans on living long. Sure as hell having no plans to pass on his DNA. Trying to resurrecting this man was harder than he had thought leaving the bunker.

Wipe. Thump. Wipe. Thump. Wipe. Thump.

At some point in time, the music had turned itself off leaving the sounds of the salt-covered road and the windshield wipers filling the small vehicle.

Wipe. Thump. Wipe. Thump. Wipe. Thump.

As his mind cleared a wash of cold came over him. Back straightening from its usual slouch. Slight pops from each vertebra as he adjusted into the straighten pose. Golden eyes becoming narrower and glazed over. Mind racing with tactics and probabilities that were ingrained in him. As his body went into auto pilot navigating the highway.

Finding a parking deck three blocks down from the prime minister’s building, Saeyoung set to the streets. The sidewalks were filled with a mix of men and women in business suits going on their lunch break. College students going to and from classes, backpacks loaded down with what they were going to need for the day. Couples walked hand in hand under the array of lit up hearts welcoming the upcoming valentine’s day. U.S soldiers in groups enjoying their free time from the base that was nearby. The streets packs with yellow taxis and sleek black cars. The restaurants and cafes had delicious smells wafts out into the crowd. Luring people in like sirens luring fishermen to death untimely deaths.

It was not that cold walking around in the crowd of people. He could barely feel the breeze as it raced through the street. His scarf and the thick green bomber jacket kept him warm enough for sweat to start forming down his back. The falling snow that was present on the drive into the city now was nowhere to be found. Even the snow that had made it to the ground from the night before was already cleared away in dirty piles on the curb. The crunch of the salt that was on the sideway and road was all that was left behind to tell that there was a hard freeze going on. There were even people walking around without coats on. With the mass of people and cars in the city it was understandable to forget it was below freezing.

Saeyoung stopped at a familiar sound. It was Zen’s singing coming out of the theater he worked at. He did not realize that he would be crossing this close to someone he knew. A small horde of fangirls around the large wood doors of the theater squealed at the sound of his singing. Zen’s face plastered across the side of the building announcing the next performance that would be showing, ‘Beauty and the Beast’, Zen would be playing the Beast. When he had told the group, there was much teasing about it. Saeyoung would have to make sure before his other trips around the building that Zen was not out for a break or anything. He had to try to keep his cover.

“So, I have realized something. I never want to be an office worker.” Saeran’s voice came in through Saeyoung’s ear piece. This comment got a chuckle out of the older twin as he placed his headphones over his ears.

“Why is that?” Saeyoung asked as he waited to cross the street that was in front of the ministries building. The building itself was a white and red brick structure that was about fifty stories tall. Some low hanging clouds obscured the upper floor. Even with that, the building loomed ominously as a testament to the power to the internal government. The windows of the building were blacked out that hid the people behind them. So if he wanted to go to another building and watch there would have been no way for him to know where the prime minister was or who he was really looking at. Flags of the different nations in the front circled around a large fountain. Four security guards standing still at the door. Making a mental note of everything before looking down at his phone to look at the blueprints that Saeran had sent him with a red dot telling him where he was. If anyone looked at his phone it looked like he was playing one of those mobile games that had the player walking around to get things. The little red dot moved when he moved and the map angled their self to match.

“It just seems boring. Also, the prime minister only left his office once to talk to a woman in the front. I guess to tell her you were coming. Then he went back into his office and made a phone call on his cell. I couldn’t tell you who it was to, though, but it was very short. Maybe a minute or two. The rest of the time he has been filling out paperwork.” Saeyoung nodded as if his brother could see him.

The line went silent as he walked the streets flipping his attention back and forth between his phone and the building. Taking in every little detail he could. There were very few escape routes from the building that he noticed. Most of the building was behind an iron fence that only left the entrance open for the public to walk on as they pleased.

“Where are you now?” Saeran’s voice once again buzzed in his ear.

“In the back. Looks like a loading dock.” Saeyoung uttered under his breath as he went by the entrance gate. The back lot of the building had tall thick bushes hiding it. Every so often there would be a missing patch that a person could look through.

“The loading dock has no guards.” Saeran stated through the sound of a flurry of keystrokes. “One of the legal twins has come in and handed him more paperwork… Now she’s gone.”

Saeyoung made three more passes around the building. Differing his pattern each time. Going one way then to backtrack in the opposite direction on the other side of the road. On the last pass, a chime let Saeyoung know that there were people in the chat. He took a quick look, it was Zen and Jaehee. Possibly talking about his new performance. If he was on break Saeyoung would have to be careful when he walked by.

Passing by the theater, Zen was out on a smoke break, dressed in his track suit he used for practice. He was not paying any attention to life around him as Saeyoung walked by. The actor was too busy on the messenger app to notice anything. This was a blessing but deep down Saeyoung wanted to know if the man he had known for years. A man that he thought of as family, a brother even, would notice him. If his disguise would work on him it would work on anyone. Maybe that was the agent wanting to know. He had heard of other agents doing the same with people they knew. Even though they were not supposed to have friends or things of that nature, it still happened.

Saeyoung went back to his car to change into a black button-down shirt and black slacks. The parking deck was dark with the overhead lights the only source of light. He could change in his car without the worry of someone seeing him. Removing the black box that was clipped to his belt, Saeyoung began the task of untangling himself from the wires of his microphone.

“I’m only going to have the ear piece in. So, I can’t speak to you nor can you hear me.”

“Do you think that’s safe?” Saeran’s voice was soft in his ear. Caution was the forefront of his mind and the older twin knew this. No one wanted to explain to the rest of the RFA what had happened if it did go south.

“Yeah, as long as you watch the cameras I should be good. I should always be on the screen.” Saeyoung tried to sound hopeful. Even if it sounded weak to his ears. “The earpiece looks like a hearing aid so no one would think it was anything else. The mic is a different story.”

“Then rig the mic to something else.” Saeran quick shot back.

“I will make something when I get home.” He tried to calm his brother down.

“Fine, just get in there and come home.”

“That was my plan. I’m going dark now. I will talk to you when I get home.” With that, he turned off the mic and placed it in the dash.

There was no such thing as too careful in this mission. Everything had to go off without a hitch for him to return home. There was no room for emotions, for emotions on missions gets you killed. This was how it always was and always will be long after his death. Jumin was correct about getting rid of his emotions, but he would never tell him that. There was a difference between signing a contract on a big deal and facing a certain death if one messes up. That did not mean that he was a robot. He knew how to handle his emotions and push them away. To bottle them up and put on a persona that was not who he was. He did it for years with the RFA.

Reaching out to open the car door he stopped. His body was shaking, not from the cold. The car was warm enough but from something else. The unknown about what was going to happen as soon as he walked through those glass doors. He took a moment to breathe. Closing his eyes. Inhale. Wait. Exhale. He repeated this until his hands listen to him and opened the door.

Saeyoung rested his head back, “God, let me go home today. That is all. Amen.”

It was the first time in a while that he had prayed. He knew that if was to get out of there he would need some divine intervention. For the longest time, all he had was his trust in God. That no matter what God would bring him salvation.

Before leaving the car, he made sure to have the pack of cigarettes on him and to check on the gun under the seat. Getting out of the car he put back on the bomber jacket and made his way to the building. Another rush came over him, the rush of the mission. An adrenaline high that he knew all too well.

Once more he walked up to the building, as he neared the security guards bowed and one of them opened the door. The building was warm and the front part where everyone checked in was round. The walls looking out on the street were made of glass. Giving the people inside an almost 360-degree view of the center city. The back half of the circle was in wood paneling with a large desk with four women offering help. Pictures of previous Prime Ministers in a line behind the desk looking out to the people who entered. The floor was a bright with gold flakes embedded in. Making the lights from overhead dance as the person moved around the room.

The metal detectors were the walk-through kind. A person had to empty their pockets before entering, nothing Saeyoung hadn’t seen before. Although one would have assumed that there would be a higher degree of safety if they were to protect not only the Prime Minister but some members of the congress and some foreign dignitaries.

Saeyoung did as the people in front of him did. First emptying out his pockets then stepping through the detector. The feedback from the ear piece screamed in his ear. Making Saeran educate him on the creative uses of the word ‘fuck’ before turning off the mic. One of the guards waved him aside to run the wand over him. As the wand reached his head Saeyoung tilted his head to show the modified hearing aid.

“Sorry if this was what set it off.” Trying to give a sheepish smile to a very annoyed looking guard. With a grunt, he was set free to collect his things.

The ladies at the reception desk were much happier. All four looked to be in their twenties. Vests over a white button down and a black skirt. Each one had their hair tied back.

“Yes, how can I help you, sir?” One of the women beamed as he neared the desk.

“My name is Choi and I have an appointment with the Prime Minister at noon. I know I’m early. If I have to wait that’s fine.” Saeyoung smiled back. The women tapped at her computer and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

“Yes, sir, we were told to send you straight up as soon as you came. So, what you’re going to do is go to the elevators. Go to the 6th floor. There will be another desk. Talk to the person behind it and they will take you there. I will call ahead and let them know you’re coming.” She handed him the paper and bowed. He, in turn, gave a light bow.

When he entered the elevator, he looked at what she had written.

CHOI

Prime minister 12 pm appointment

Send straight to P.M.

No waiting

The paper was like a hall pass if anyone stopped him he could just show it. Another woman waited in front of the elevator as he stepped off. She was an older woman than the ones downstairs. Her gray hair tied in a bun on the top of her head. She wore something much like the women downstairs. A skirt with a white button-down top. Unlike the sunny demeanor of the ladies downstairs, this one was stern looking. Much like a headmistress at an all-girls prep school or something.

“Mr. Choi, I am here to guide you to Prime Minister Chon.” Her voice was stern making Saeyoung stand a bit straighter. Almost expecting her to tell him to stand straight or he’d be smacked with a ruler.

He was led down a brightly lit corridor. A badge opened the doors to go in, on the other side, it seemed as if one could walk out without a badge. This was something he did not notice on the security cameras. Neither of them spoke, so the click of her heels on the tile filled the void. Dusty framed art hung on the walls. The pictures looked as if they were found at a second-hand store. Old and faded, nothing newer than at least ten years.

Prime Minister Chon’s office was the last in the hall. A large wooden door with the Korean flag on either side, let Saeyoung know he had arrived.

Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here…

The next room had five more people at their desks typing away at their computers. The room was rather large. On one side, there was a sitting area; the other was where the desks were. The smell of fresh coffee filled the office space. Looking around He could not see either one of the legal twins. He was sure that he had heard that one of them worked for their father. Saeran even said that he saw one walk in. If they were not here at the moment, then it would be for the better. It would have been obvious if the two of them stood near to one another that they were related in some way. The woman at the desk closest to the door in the back stood. She looked more like the women on the first floor than the headmistress that he was currently following. The older woman walked up to her with Saeyoung trailing behind. He was busy taking notes on the space of the room. If there was a spot where he could get out if needed.

“Mr. Choi to see Prime Minister Chon.” With a bow, the older woman left. The woman, who must have been the chief assistant, laughed as soon as the door closed.

“She scares me too!” This got a small chuckle out of her colleagues. “Here Mr. Choi, Mr. Chon has been expecting you.” Walking around her desk, she knocked on the door twice before opening it.

“Mr. Chon, Mr. Choi is here.” The door opened wide onto the room. With an uneven step and a shaky breath, Saeyoung stood before the Prime Minister.

Prime Minister Chon stood behind his large wooden desk as the door closed behind Saeyoung. Much like the lobby, the entire back wall was a window looking out onto the city. Expensive rugs, that would have made Jumin look cheap in comparison, laid across the wood flooring. Book shelves stacks high with books on his right. On the far side of the room was a sitting area with large overstuffed chairs with a coffee table in the middle. That was where many of the photo ops were taken.

Saeyoung knew about the Prime Minister’s life. Studying law in university was natural for him since his family was powerful lawyers. What some might call his grandparents most likely wanted him to take over the law firm that they had. But he had chosen to enter the political field after leaving law school. Starting out in local government in his home province. Moving up from there to the national political stage quickly. His wife was a lawyer as well, now she was trying to change the public-school system. The legal twins were a year older than Saeran and him. Both went to Harvard the same time he did. Thankfully, the school was a big enough school that they had never met. One was an elementary school teacher and the other worked for their father. Neither of them was married and still lived with their family.

Now, Saeyoung stood before the man. His golden eyes mirrored back at him. There was never any wonder where he and Saeran had gotten their looks from. Their golden eyes and red hair came from their father. As well as many of his facial features came from this man. The man was about as tall as he was maybe a bit taller. His hair slicked back; his hair was a reddish brown with gray mixed in. Still, Saeyoung figured that this was what he was going to look like when he was in his 50’s.

“Please, come in Choi! Is there anything I can get you? Water, tea, coffee?” Prime Minister Chon’s voice was laced with excitement. His golden eyes shown with the same wonder and happiness that a child’s did on Christmas. The older man moved quickly to stand in front of Saeyoung. Examining him closely, making Saeyoung take a step back.

“No thank you.” Saeyoung said as politely as possible. One of the first rules an agent learns is to never accept anything to eat or drink when in contact with a target.

Saeyoung had watched enough of Zen’s performances to know that the way to draw a person into one’s act was body language. To make the audience believe that the actor is the character was in the movements and well-rehearsed lines. Much like actors, politician did the same thing. This man was nothing more than an actor on stage. Trying to pull in his audience of one into his performance to make Saeyoung believe that what he said was sincere.

“Please, over here.” The Prime minister motioned to the sitting area. “The chairs are much more comfortable than the ones at my desk.”

The chairs of the sitting area were facing the door unlike the two at his desk. This would give a good advantage if someone rushed the door. Saeyoung only nodded and let his father take the led to the area. Just before sitting he removed his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his black button down. His father did not sit until Saeyoung had, lingering for a moment looking over him. The excitement still in his eyes.

“Don’t worry I can still see you. Everything is clear.” Saeran’s voice was a whisper in his ear.

A moment of silence fell over the men as they stared at each other.

“Please, I understand this might be uncomfortable for you, but thank you for humoring an old man.” Prime minister Chon smiled again. The younger man could only nod.

Every question that he had as a child came back, and this man offered the answers to him. Even if these answers might just be lies. They were answers none the less. Even though he wanted to speak, his mouth did not let him. The hacker could not take his eyes off the older man. It was a waiting game for him. Waiting to see the bodyguards pop out and take him. He should have been taking in the surroundings, not focusing solely on the man in front of him.

“I am happy to see you have grown to be a fine young man, Choi.” Chon smile was sad as he spoke.

A fine young man was not something Saeyoung would describe himself as. He was a hacker wanted in at least five different counties, including this one. At least a dozen bounties on him by different organizations throughout the world.

“How did you find us?” Saeyoung’s mouth finally opened to ask what had been burning inside of him since the phone call this morning.

“I’ve been watching you two since you were small. I have had private investigators follow you and your brother. That was until both of you went missing.” Chon’s voice trailed off. Saeyoung knew this, it was hard to miss the men in suits following him when he went out. “When I had heard of your mother’s death I went undercover to see if I could meet the two of you. I asked about you both and someone told me that both of you were missing. They said that your mother might have killed you before taking her own life. I had a track put on your names. I knew it might have been in vain but I wanted to believe you were alive and well somewhere out there. A couple of months ago, I got a hit on Saeran’s name when he enrolled in Sky university and last week I found out that Saeyoung had gotten married. I knew that I this was my chance to finally meet you. I found the contact information from those two documents.”

He had mistaken the application that they had to file to get the marriage license for the real thing. Saeyoung sat back into the chair a moment. He knew about Yeoja, this was worse than he thought. He could use her. Although, if he was looking for Yeoja Choi, she did not exist yet, at least for a few more weeks. Another long awkward silence came over the two as he pondered the outcome for this man knowing about Yeoja.

“How much did you look into us?” Saeyoung’s eyes narrowed. This was something he needed to know for the safety of his family. If there were any tell-tell signs of this man lying with his next breath, he was going to get up and leave.

“That’s all I know. I was just happy to see your names in front of me. It was like God was giving me another chance.” The sad smile settled across the elder’s face. His hands gripped at each other hard enough to make his knuckles white as his nails dug into flesh. Chon lowered his head to Saeyoung. “I wanted… No… I am being selfish. I have no right to have these feeling towards you and your brother. This is our first meeting and I already have dreams of us being like father and sons.” A light chuckle escaped passing his thin lips. Tears threatened at the man’s eyes. “I do not know what your mother told you about me. I do not even know if this is the first time hearing about me. I am sorry.”

“She told us who you were. That’s why I came. We have questions of our own.” Saeyoung’s voice dropped lower as Chon raised his head.

“I understand that is why you are here. I will answer them truthfully.”

Bull shit.

“When you found out about Saeran’s enrollment. Is that why you held that press conference at the school?” If he thought the application was the real thing he might have thought that Saeran was already taking classes. Saeran would not be there until the summer semester but still. If he was trying to make contact like that, then he was a threat.

The Prime Minister laughed, “No, I would not have been able to pick either one of you out of a crowd. Last time I saw you, you were a few months old. It was planned before I got the notification on Saeran’s name. It was a nice thought that we could run into one another on the off chance.”

“Why now?” Saeyoung asked watching the man as he took a drink from his coffee.

“I have always wanted to be a part of your life. Your mother did not let me. As I said before I tried to contact you but either your mother would stop me.” His voice trailed off, “Or I thought you had died.”

Saeyoung shifted in his seat watching the man. The ticking grandfather clock in the corner was the only thing telling him haw fast was moving. If it was not for that clock he would have guessed years went by.

“Why did you try to kidnap and kill us as children?” The question slipped. Saeyoung’s shot to the man waiting for his reaction. He could not let on that the question was a mistake. Chon's eyes went wide in shock as he sat back in his chair. His lips formed a hard thin line across his face.

“Is that what your mother told you?” Saeyoung nodded, “I never did anything illegal towards you or your brother. I loved you both as a father would. It was a year after you were born that I saw your mother for who she really was. I offered to adopt both of you and bring you to live with me. She refused and upped my child support.” Adoption was the new term for kidnapping. Maybe surprise adoption if anything. While hush money was child support. “That is why I hired the PIs to follow you. If anything were to happen to the two of you and I did not know. All I wanted to do was protect the two of you… I never forgave myself for thinking that I let you die after the funeral. That I should have pressed harder to get custody of both of you. Your mother was not like that when I first met her. She changed almost overnight.” Chon looked down again.

Saeyoung adjusted himself as a rage rushed through him. Protect was a funny thing coming from him. A man that wanted to have him and his brother killed. Yet, now, the same man sat before him with his head bowed in hopes to get some kind of forgiveness from him. The only reason he was sitting there was because of this man not being able to keep his dick out of places where is should not have been. Then again without this man, he would not have met the RFA or Yeoja. There were some redeeming factors in living.

“Does your family know?”

“My wife does. My wife has known this entire time. Your sisters, I mean, my daughters do not.” Chon once again sat fully up.

“How did you and my mother meet?” An emotion that Saeyoung could not place spread across the older man’s face. He knew that in some respects he was emotionally stunted, but he could at least name most of the emotions. Not this one.

Prime minister Chon’s eyes soften and looked pass Saeyoung to the ground. His lips were still pressed into a thin line but the corners were slightly upturned. It was still enough to cause the corners of his eyes to wrinkle in lines that looked like sun rays. There was no tension in his face as he let a small puff of air come out of his nose; his shoulder’s relaxed downward at the same time. Lowering his head a bit, but still focused on that one spot just pass Saeyoung. The muted light coming through the massive window cast soft shadows across his face. Hiding the wrinkles in his eyes and along, his mouth. Chon seemed to de-age in front of his eyes. He was not the fifty-something but in his twenties.

“I was not living with my wife at the time. After The girls were born we had hit a rough patch. My wife quit her job to raise the girls and I had just started to work in congress. I met her when she was working in the bookstore nearby the building I lived in. I fell in love with your mother very quickly and I had wished to marry her someday. With Korea being as conservative as it is, I left your mother and went back to my wife so I could move with my career. Your mother had just had you two when I went back.”

Saeyoung had never heard how they had met. He had always assumed that they had met in a bar somewhere. That he and Saeran were products of a one night stand. No shit she changed overnight. It went from him telling her that ‘they were going to be together forever’ to ‘never mind I’m going back to my wife now’. With all that happening right after she had given birth to boot. Any woman would have reacted badly.

“I was young and stupid at the time. I did love your mother and I love you and your brother. I wish to get to know the two of you more. Not as a father and sons, I’m not foolish in thinking that could happen. Just a friendly relationship.”

“It’s been a lot to take in. I will have to talk with my other half and see what he says. We will get back in contact with you if it is something we wish to continue.” A chuckle came from the older man.

“My girls call each other the same thing. I’m sorry. I understand I do hope we can continue this relationship.”

Saeyoung nodded, “Please, respect our lives. Do not look into us any further. We live quiet lives and wish to keep it that way. We will contact you.” Saeyoung raised out of the chair. He had to get out of there before he let any more slip.

“I am a man of my word, Choi. You will be left alone.” The older man stood and offered his hand out. “Can you answer a question of mine?”

Nodding Saeyoung took the man’s hand, “It depends.”

“I understand. Can you tell me how both of you are? What are your lives like?” Chon smiled releasing the shake.

“We are happy now. We live in peace, and that’s all we want.” Saeyoung started for the door. As his hand reached for the door the man stopped him. He had placed a hand on his shoulder, making Saeyoung turnaround. As he did he was wrapped in Chon’s arms and pulled into a hug. Saeyoung’s body stiffened, even as he was released from the embrace he could not move.

“I’m sorry for acting foolish. Thank you for today. I hope that I can speak with you again.” Saeyoung nodded and opened the door.

On the other side was one of the legal twins. She was shorter than him but not by much. Her bright red hair tied back in a ponytail behind her. Her arms loaded down with papers and files to give to her father. She froze as he walked out then quickly bowing almost spilling the papers. Saeyoung noticed something about her. She gave off the same feel as Yeoja after becoming pregnant. The way she walked towards him gave the tell-tell signs that her hips were widening as her gate had not adjusted to the new life in her. A small smile cracked across his face as she placed the paperwork on the desk next to the door and brushed her stomach. Her hand went across her stomach to outstretched in a greeting. He moved pass her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Congrats.” He whispered in her ear as he left.

He had to clear his mind and process the information that was given to him. The trip back to his car was the fastest trip yet. Even while checking behind him for followers.

His mind wondered as he drove. It was not until he saw the school that he snapped back with a beep from the messenger. It was Yoosung.

Yoosung: Where are you Yeoja!!!

Yoosung: YEOJA!!!!

Saeyoung’s mind went haywire thinking that his father could have kidnapped Yeoja while he was in the meeting.

Yeoja has entered the chat

Yeoja: You’ve passed me like 3 times now…

Saeyoung was in the middle of pulling a u-turn to go back to the school.

Yeoja: Hey babe!

Saeyoung: hiya baby! How are you?

Yoosung: Where are you! You weren’t in your last class?

Yeoja sent a picture of Yoosung stand right in front of her

Yoosung: Oh!

Yeoja: Sorry I got sick before I got to class so I took a nap in the car.

Yeoja: What are you doing Saeyoung?

Saeyoung smiled as a minivan passed him. He had to pick on her. That would hopefully make him feel a bit better.

Saeyoung: Looking at a van.

Yeoja: No!

Yeoja: No vams

Yoosung: wow you two sound like u’re already married!

Yeoja: I will divorce you if I come home and there’s a van there!

Yoosung: Soo fierce

Yeoja: just expressing how I feel

Yeoja: Fine you can get a van but you have to trade in Elly.

Saeyoung: NO!!!

Saeyoung sent a wave of crying emojis

Yeoja: The little white sports car or the van!

Saeran has entered the chat

Saeran: Well I know where you are now

Saeyoung: Yup after the drs app I went to go look at cars.

Yeoja: drs app

Yoosung: Are you okay Saeyoung.

Saeyoung smiled and laughed as he typed his next message.

Saeyoung: Yeah I was so sleepy this morning drank some food coloring and went to the drs after you left.

Yoosung: You okay man?

Saeyoung: The dr said I was fine.

Saeyoung: But I feel like I’ve dyed a little inside

Saeran: I will kill him went he gets home.

Yeoja: Please clean up after. Blood is hard to get out once it’s dried.

Yeoja: Oh look at the time… I am out. I’ll see you two went I get home… or at least one of you.

Yoosung: I’m out too

Yeoja and Yoosung have left the chat.

Saeran: I’ll see you when you get home too

Saeran has left the chat.

With that, he was left alone with his thoughts again. It was nice to have a little distraction while so much was going on.

The drive home went painfully slow. There were good and bad merits about living so far out. This was one of the bad ones. It was if like he could not put enough pressure on the gas to get him home sooner. His eyes ached and itched with his contacts. It did not help that he was sure he was about to fall asleep behind the wheel. His mind was still racing with the conversation with that man, but his body had other ideas.

He nearly cheered as he saw the brick fence of his house come into view. The gate opened as his car neared and let him in the compound. He was greeted in the garage by a very stern looking Saeran. A bare foot tapped as he parked. He wanted to tease his brother and take his time but he was sure that Saeran would drag him out his car if he did.

“Well?” was all Saeran said as Saeyoung closed the door.

Saeyoung told him everything that had happened. There was no use in hiding anything from him now. He needed to know what he knew.

“I don’t believe him.” Saeran said lighting up another cigarette. Saeyoung did not either, but this was the information that he was given.

“I’m going to go take a shower and go to sleep. I think you should as well.” Saeyoung walked into the house and did as he said.

Before stepping in the shower, he took a good look at himself naked in the full-length mirror. His body was littered with scars from old fights, a living tapestry of near misses. Most of these came from his mother. His life with her was more of a war zone than the ones that he had entered in his years as an agent. Where the wrong move would have him tending to a new wound on his body or his brother’s. The woman often used the weaker of the Choi twins as leverage against him. If he did wrong, then is was Saeran who suffered more times than not. But the women never did miss a chance to beat him with whatever she could get her hands on.

After getting out of the shower the bunker was dark and quiet. Saeran must have gone to his room. Saeyoung could hear his bed calling him as well. It had been more than 24 hours since he woke up. While he had gone longer in the past, his body told him that it was not going to happen.

The bed felt amazing as if it was a cloud. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A dip in the bed awoke him as another body cuddled up against his side. A lightweight came to rest on his chest. A soft chuckle came from his throat. He did not open his eyes, laying like that. The woman he loved pressed up against him, her head on his chest listening to his heart. These were things that he did not dare dream about before. Now, a little over a year later, it still felt like a dream. That if he opened his eyes now he would be back where he was before. Alone and would not have his brother or the woman he loved in his life.

“Sorry, I woke you up.” Yeoja’s voice was just above a whisper. She’d brought one of her hands to rest on his chest as she sat up. The sudden lack of her body heat made him shiver.

“Don’t!” His voice cracked, “Don’t leave.” He reached out for her arm to keep her close to him. A small laugh escaped her.

“I was just going to go to the living room and study.” Saeyoung’s thumb drew lazy circles on her arm.

“Stay.” Was all he could say, pulling her closer to him. She followed his lead for her head to come to rest back on his chest.

“I’ll stay until you go back to sleep.”

“Stay with me for the rest of my life.” This got another laugh from her. She shifted to sit up and moved to straddle his hips. Yeoja brought both of his hands up to her chest. He could feel her heart beneath his fingers.

“I don’t know what is going on with work, but I have already promised you that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. If something were to happen to one of us. Maybe in old age or sooner due to a freak accident,” Yeoja moved his hands lower to her stomach, “We are still together. Living in them. I’m not going anywhere, you’re stuck with me.”

This made him open his eyes. The glow of the lava lamp behind her. It lit her hair in a soft warm halo. She was truly an angel. An angel he did not deserve. What did he do in a previous life to even earn the right to have her?

Yeoja smiled as she bent down and kissed him. He responded, setting the pace slow. Slipping a hand into her hair. While his other wrapped around her back. Saeyoung was too sleepy to get aroused but he needed to feel her against him. Her body heat proved that she was real. That their life together was not part of a dream. Their tongues danced with one another to the melody of their moans. They broke apart, the need for air was getting to be important. She shifted again to lay beside him as he closed his eyes again. The weight on his chest and the patterns that her thumb drew on his torso were enough of a lullaby to lull him back to the arms of sleep.

Yeoja waited until Saeyoung’s breathing evened out to move again. The hallway was dark as she made her way into the living room where she had turned on the lights. Her laptop was running waiting on her, midterms were coming up. With both of the twins sleeping, she knew that this was the best time to get some studying done. Putting on some classical music and bringing up the midterm study questions another need arose in her. Hunger. With a sigh, she pulled herself off the sofa and went to check the fridge.

There was not much in there. Making a mental note of what she might have to get at the store after her meeting with Jumin tomorrow. The left-over pot roast was the only thing it seemed to catch her eye, or what she was sure her children’s attention. She pulled out the dish. When she turned around a figure with wild red hair stood behind her. Yeoja shrieked as mint green eyes still hazed over with sleep looked at her.

Saeran mumbled something along the lines of ‘food’ or ‘hungry’ as he staggered to stand next to her.

“All I am doing is warming some leftovers up. You want some?” She showed the red-haired zombie the pot roast. It nodded and once more mumbled something this time in another language or what sounded like another language. Saeran moved towards the plates and fumbled as he pulled two paper plates out. They dropped to the floor and he just stood there staring at them. As if he could not process what had happened. She giggled as she bent down to pick them up. Then dished out the roast and potatoes for the two of them.

After the ding of the microwave, she placed the first plate in front of the zombie. It grumbled a ‘thank you’ as he began to stab at the meat. She took her plate and sat at the island in the kitchen. Saeran stumbled to sit next to her. He began to stab at the meat again.

“Yeoja, how would you handle if you were told something… something that you were told as a kid. Then you… were told something different later on. What would you believe?” Saeran was still looking at the plate with its untouched food other than him stabbing at it as if it were still alive.

“It depends on who said what?” Yeoja watched the younger Choi twin. “Who would you believe?”

He sat there this time stirring his food. His mind wondering over what she had said. Nodding to unspoken words between them or a conversation that only he could hear.

“What if you can’t believe either?” He finally said after a long moment.

“I guess you would have to go with what feels right.”

“What if neither feels right?” This time he was looking at her. The haze of sleep was gone in his eyes. Mint eyes that almost glowed in the low light of the kitchen looked into her soul.

“I dunno what to tell you. I just think you should go with your gut.” Yeoja turned to her own plate but she could still feel his eyes on her.

********

The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air and what sounded like a tiny herd of rhinos storming the door to his room was what he woke up too. He did not open his eyes as tiny giggles mixed in with shushing sounds rounded the bed. Sticky fingers grabbed at his hands and face and shook.

“Daddy wake up!” Two tiny voices that had the same melody of a bird’s song rang in his ears. As they shook him they giggled while intermingling ‘Daddy’ and ‘wake up’.

He stayed as he was, playing like he was still sleeping. He wanted to see what they would do.

“What if Daddy is dead?” One little bird asked.

“Remember the book mommy read us? He’ll wake up with a kiss!” the other little bird chimed.

“Daddy isn’t a princess… Will it still work?” The first little bird asked.

“It doesn’t matter if Daddy is or isn’t a princess! Just like it doesn’t matter if we aren’t a prince or princess!” The second one cheered. He felt a pair of hands leave him.

Then as if on cue two little bodies dived on him. Covering his face with kisses and sticky fingers.

As Saeyoung went to wrap his arms around the little ones, his arms were jerked back as cold metal wrapped around his wrists. Even with his eyes open, he saw nothing in front of him. The sharp smell of metallic overwhelmed his senses. It was a smell he knew all too well. Blood. Saeyoung could taste it on his tongue. Straining against the cuffs but he did not get that far before his hands were swung back onto the cold stone behind him.

The scrape of a wooden door on stone with creaky hinges echoed off the walls as it opened. Then footsteps coming towards him. The sobs of Yeoja and his little birds followed the steps getting louder with each footfall. The footsteps stopped in front of him. With the slide of rough material and the pull of some of his hair, Saeyoung could see. It was a small stone room that he was in, something out of a medieval movie. Out of the side of his eye was Saeran. Hanging by his arms like he was with his head down. The small rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that his twin was still alive.

Something jerked at his hair making him look forward. The thing that stood in front of him was his father. He had a smile that slit his face from ear to ear. His head was tilted at an angle to look Saeyoung in his eyes. The honey golden color of his father’s eyes darken as the smile got wider.

“Did you really think you could get away from me?” His voice was a low hiss as he shook Saeyoung’s head. “Did you really think you could hide from me?”

“Why?” Saeyoung’s voice was hoarse and cracked as he spoke.

“Why? Why? Why, my dear boy… Why indeed…” His father let go of Saeyoung’s hair making his neck snap forward with a pop. “You two are the only things that have ever held me back.”

Saeyoung could still hear the sobs of his family as his father spoke. His little birds called out for him. Saeyoung’s arms ached to hold them and tell them that it would be okay. He wanted to dry their tears and make them smile. The cuffs around his wrists did not let him move. His arms were stretched out so far that his shoulders were almost dislocated.

As he struggled his father continued to speak, when he noticed that Saeyoung was not paying attention, he lunged for Saeyoung. His father’s hands around his throat crushing his windpipe. Then as quickly as he began his father backed off muttering something to himself. Another sinister grin cracked across the old man’s face.

“You were a mistake that never should have happened!” The old man shrieked. “You and your brother both should not be alive.”

His father moved so that Saeyoung could see through the open door. There was a large metal table like the ones used in a morgue in the next room. Saeyoung could see the tops of Yeoja head and the bright red hair of his little birds’ in a line on the table. He lunged forward quickly to get to them. His shoulders popped as the joints left their sockets. His wrists buckled with the full force of his weight on them. A jolt of pain surged through him. Even still he pressed harder to get to his family. Hot tears ran down his face as he begged through his sobs to spare them.

“You should have never been. Therefore, they should not be here.” His father turned and went out of the room. The large door closed quickly behind him leaving the room in darkness.

“Please!.. No!...” He begged through his tears. Screaming as loud as he could.

The slide of metal on metal. Then the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. Click.

Bang.

One of the little bird’s cries stopped.

Click.

Bang.

The second little bird’s sobs stopped.

Yeoja sobbed harder. Her cries for her children. His children. Their children. Children that did not get a chance at life because who they were born to.

“Daddy’s sorry, my little ones. Please forgive Daddy. Daddy couldn’t protect you.” Saeyoung had thrown his voice. Now it would not go beyond a whisper.

Slide.

Click.

Bang.

Yeoja’s sobs stopped as the spent shell fell and skittered across the floor. She was now with their children. Saeyoung’s tears would not stop. The family that he had made was gone. Saeran was the only thing he had left.

The door opened again, his father walked to Saeran. He jerked his head up by his hair. Saeran’s mouth fell open. Saeyoung fought against the cuffs to get to his brother. He could not speak but he was going to do his damnedest to get to him. His father placed the gun in Saeran’s mouth then turned to watch Saeyoung.

Horror was the only thing he felt as the man smiled and pulled back the trigger. He never taking his eyes off Saeyoung. At some point, Saeyoung had stopped fighting and all he could do was watch as he saw the flash of the gun in his brother’s mouth. Followed by a deafening bang.

Blood spattered with bits of bone and brain matter across the wall behind Saeran.

Saeyoung felt nothing but cold as he watched as the man let go of his other half and he fell limply against his restraints. Blood followed from the exit wound pooling on the floor below. There was nothing left for him to live for. His family was gone and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. His tears were gone along with his voice.

His father walked over to Saeyoung and gripped his hair.

“This is the end.”

With his other hand, he forced Saeyoung’s mouth open and stuck the barrel of the gun in Saeyoung’s mouth. It was hot. Saeyoung could feel the heat burning his lips and the inside of his mouth. The taste of smoke filled his senses.

Bang.

Saeyoung shot up in bed. Cold sweat dripped down his body. His heart thundered in his chest trying to get out. He wheezed with each gasp of air trying to fill his lungs. It was a long moment before his fuzzy world came into focus. That it was all just a dream, that everyone was safe. Saeyoung could only stare at the blurry outline of the dresser at the end of the bed while he pieced his world back together.

Once his breathing became normalized, Saeyoung lied back down. An arm covering his eyes as he could still taste the hot metal in his mouth. It felt so real. The loss of his family that he could do nothing for. The sights and sounds of their deaths still echoed in him. Yet, they were fine. His brother, his future wife, and his unborn children, all were fine, it was just a dream. Nothing more.

A shift in the bed beside him, made him look. It was a person sized blanket burrito curled up on the edge of the bed. He moved closer to the burrito and slipped an arm under it with his other coming to rest along the hip.

“Hey, baby, mornin’.” Saeyoung pressed kisses along what felt like the neck and head of the person wrapped safely in the blanket. It smelled like the body oil Yeoja used, eucalyptus and spearmint. Her entire side of her bed smelled of it and he loved it. Even when she was away from home it still felt like she was there.

His hand slid from the hip to come to rest on the stomach a strangled cry came from the burrito as it flung itself off the bed. Saeran’s head popped out of the top.

“No! Just no!” Saeran pulled the blanket tighter around him as if to protect him from his brother. “Dude, this is not how you wake your brother up!”

Saeyoung chuckled, “Why are you sleeping next to me then?” he tried to play it off but the blush on his younger twin’s face told him the story. He had another nightmare. It was becoming very uncommon for him to have them. Still, every now and again they popped up. “Where’s Yeoja?”

“If you remember, she told us the other day she had a meeting with Jumin. So, I am guessing that is where she is.” Saeran stood up and shed the blanket covering.

Yeoja walked up to the receptionist and told her, her name and that she was there to see Jumin. The woman behind the desk smiled and made the call. What Yeoja did not notice was the man behind the corner. He was not really paying attention to her at first until Jaehee came out and hugged her.

“Oh? Saeyoung and Saeran aren't with you?” Jaehee smiled pulling away.

Those names made his ears perk up and made him listen to their conversion. Those names were not very common, and he had a feeling about who the two young women were talking about. This was when he turned to fully face the two. She was dressed in black pants and dress shirt. A large worn out jacket over one bent arm. Her hair was a chestnut brown a little pass her shoulders. The man could not see her eyes. From the way the two women looked, they could have been related in some way. Maybe, sisters, they were friendly enough with one another.

“They aren’t feeling well. So, I didn’t wake them when I left. I doubt they’ll be up when I get home. Besides I told them where I would be a few days ago, at least one of them should remember.” Yeoja laughed.

“I’m sure your over protective husband would just blow up the messenger if he was looking for you.” Jaehee laughed as well. She emphasized the word husband in the most overdramatic way she could. While still remaining professional. Most of the RFA already thought of the two as married. So, it was not uncommon that he was referred to her husband. “How are things? I mean you haven’t been living there long.”

“Oh, it’s great! I just don’t like the drive to and from school every day. Although I feel weird not helping to pay for things. He said my money is for me and the kids. Still, he’s the one that has bought most of the stuff for them.”

“It’s because he is the man, and he feels that he needs to take care of you.” Jumin’s deep voice made the two women jump. “Zen, myself, and Saeyoung talked about it shortly after V and Rika’s engagement.”

Yeoja giggled at the thought of Zen, Jumin, and Saeyoung having a serious conversation. She could almost imagine what it came to. After about two minutes of serious talk. Zen and Jumin most likely started fighting. While Saeyoung egged it on in some way for the shits and giggles of it.

The man watched as Jumin smiled at the woman named Yeoja. The man had known Jumin for many years but he had never seen Jumin with as gentle of a smile that he wore now. Stepping from around the corner to greet the trio. Jumin stiffened making the women turn to see who was walking their way. It was the Prime Minister.

“Good afternoon Mr. Han. Going out on a lunch date?” Jumin bit the inside of his lip.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Chon. No, this is Yeoja Choi. She and her husband are members of the RFA with me.” Jumin said in his most professional voice.

“Oh, I went to one party a few years ago, I missed the last one you had.” The prime minister smiled as his wife joined him. After they exchanged pleasantries Chon finished his statement, “We are here to have lunch with your father.”

Jumin only nodded, feeling sorry for the prime minister. His father and his new girlfriend were having a hard time keeping their hands off one another. Barely acknowledging the people around them as they petted each other. Deep down Jumin was happy he was not going to be there for the embarrassing event.

“Well, we are having another one here in a few weeks. Here is my contact information. Send me an email and I will get you on the guest list.” Yeoja smiled as she handed him a card. Chon smiled and took one of his own out. She smiled and placed the card in her wallet.

“Now if you excuse us we should be leaving. Please have a good afternoon.” Jumin’s corporate heir was coming through with each word. With a bow, Jumin led the two women to pass the prime minister and his wife.

Chon listened as they walked away. It was about their daily lives and other things until they were far enough away from him hearing them.

Jumin sighed, “With the Choi twins not here, do we have to pick up something for them?”

Yeoja smiled and shook her head, “Not today. I have to go to the store after this. So, I will pick them up some burgers on the way home.”

Another sigh came from the man. She knew what the corporate heir thought about burgers. The group walked out into the frozen air. Even in the oversized hoodie, Yeoja shivered. All the way to the restaurant there was very little talking. Jaehee was pouring over some documents, trying to get in some last-minute work. Jumin was sending out emails. While Yeoja was reading a book she had downloaded to her phone.

The restaurant was extremely nice. Even leaving her jacket in the car Yeoja felt underdressed. Sticking next to Jaehee and following her lead was the only way she was going to get out of this without making herself and Jumin look bad. The trio was set off to the back overlooking the river. Jaehee was still mulling over her phone. Whoever she was emailing was giving her a hard time. Yeoja felt bad for the older woman.

Her eyes went from her friend to the white marble floor. Up a white Roman-style column to opal colored drapes that hung between the pillars. The sound of the fountain in the center of the massive room overshadowed the piano player somewhere off in a corner. She was almost scared to see the prices of this place. She was already in nasty enough debt with school. It was thankful that Jumin said he would pay for lunch today. Yeoja could almost hear Zen’s and Saeyoung’s voice cheering her to spend all of Jumin’s money.

“How is school going?” Jumin’s voice brought Yeoja back to face him.

“Oh, good. It’s sad to think that when I go back in January that some of my friends won’t be there.” Yeoja chirped.

“So, you do plan to go back.” This was not a question from the older man.

“Yeah, I mean I have already spent the last almost five years to get my two degrees. I mean what’s four more.” She joked. This brought a smile to Jumin’s face.

“That’s good. Well, I was thinking. Maybe you could come work for me.” Jaehee stopped what she was doing and put down her phone. Yeoja could hear her friend screaming a ‘no’ to her.

“I mean I wouldn’t be good with whatever you do.” Yeoja gestured with her hands the outline of the man in front of her. “I mean unless you really need someone to ask your clients how they are doing. I mean, I do know how to brainwash someone but I doubt it’d be of any help.”

“What do they teach you in school.” Jaehee spoke before Jumin could.

“Oh, it was for abnormal psychology. I still have the book and my notes from the class.” Jaehee sat back in her chair unsure about the new information she was just given about her friend.

“Well, that would help out.” Jumin chuckled. “Actually, with the HR department has a psychologist on staff. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you.”

Yeoja sat there a moment, “It’ll be a while before I can shadow someone. I will keep it in mind.”

“Also, I was going to ask Saeyoung if he would come work for me as well. I figured I would ask you to see if the request would be a good one to make.” Jumin took a sip of his wine.

“I mean as far as I known him and Saeran are a joint package. I am not sure, though. It’d be better to ask him.”

The rest of lunch went quietly. The occasional brief conversation broke through. When a chat room message beeped on their three phones. Yeoja joked after she saw who was in the chat, Yoosung and Zen, that they should send a selfie with their meals to them. As tempting as it was they did not. After they were done, the trio left from the restaurant and drove back to Jumin’s office. From there Yeoja waved as she left her two friends and went back to her car. As she walked to the parking deck she was playing with her phone, not really paying attention to what was in front of her. When she bumped into something making her look up. There were a handful of bodyguards blocking the entrance. The one she bumped into looked down at her, his hand going for something on his belt. The others made a semi-circle around her until the prime minister came up behind them. They backed off as soon as they saw the man.

“I’m sorry about that. Mrs. Choi, was it?” His voice was soft as he spoke to her.

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” She waved her hands in front of her. “They were just doing their job.”

“Would you like me to drive you to your car?” Chon asked. The question made Yeoja drop the note she was working on her phone. He could see her background, it was a selfie of her between two red heads. He recognized the golden eyed man in the picture as the man he saw yesterday. He guessed right earlier when he had heard those names.

“No, I’m parked on a higher level. Thank you, though. Have a good afternoon.” Yeoja did her best not to stutter her words. As if on cue a meowing was heard making the two look at her phone.

The was a picture of the man he currently knew as Choi smiling back at him with the name, Saeyoung.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” With that, she went by him.

“Hey, baby.” Was the last thing he heard coming from her as he watched her go into the stairwell.

#fanfiction #fanfic #m rating #707 #mystic messenger 707 #MC #Spoilers

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