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padfootagain · 3 years

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The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

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

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

somehow we’ll be okay

9.3k || ao3

Gabriel and Owen process their guilt, the 126 comes together in the face of (another) tragedy, and Carlos and TK find comfort in each other. ---- A 2x12 coda, in 3 parts

This took me an entire week to write and I'm not even sure what it is anymore but here it is.

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

The shrill ringing of a phone shattered the silence of the Reyes home.

They had just been settling down for the night when the call came and Gabriel muttered a curse under his breath as he rolled over in bed to grab the offending phone from the nightstand. He frowned when he saw the contact info on the screen.

“Owen?” he said in greeting, “Is everything okay? It’s a little late for a social call.”

“Gabriel!” The fire captain's voice was tense and distant. It sounded as if he was driving, and fast. “Have you talked to Carlos at all tonight?”

“No,” he responded, sitting up in bed, nerves suddenly on edge, “Why?”

“I don’t think Raymond was done. Do you remember what he said? ‘I’ll take what matters the most from you. At first I thought he meant the 126, but I think there was more; and I think he was talking to both of us.”

It only took a moment for Owen Strand’s frantic words to process and when they did Gabriel felt a cold chill was over him. “The boys,” he said quietly, fearfully, and he felt his wife shift beside him, sitting up and facing him with a concerned expression.

“I think so,” Owen confirmed grimly. “I’m on my way there now but TK’s not answering. It keeps going to voicemail.”

“I’ll try Carlos,” he said, desperately hoping there was some other explanation for them not answering, anything but the worst fear Owen had just painted for him. He went to hang up, but he hesitated. “Owen…” he said instead, not sure what exactly it was he wanted to say.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” the other man promised and despite everything, Gabriel took comfort in knowing that he and Andrea weren’t alone in this fear. He thanked him again before ending the call and switching to his recent calls list.

“What’s going on?” Andrea asked him, eyes roving his face for any clues. He didn’t answer right away as he tapped his son’s name and held the phone up to his ear, praying to hear his voice answer. Instead all he got was the mechanical ringing before his voicemail picked up.

He lowered the phone and met his wife’s eyes.

“Owen thinks that the arsonist isn’t done with revenge yet. He thinks that he had a more personal goal in mind; something that would affect both of us.”

He knew he didn’t have to spell it out for her - Andrea had always been smarter than him, after all - and when she placed a hand over her mouth he grimaced, reaching over and squeezing her arm gently as he tried calling Carlos again. It was the same as the first time, so was the next. He could feel the fear and desperation growing within him, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Their son’s home was nearly 20 minutes away from their house - he’d never make it in time to make any difference. He could only hope that Owen would get there in time; that his actions wouldn’t cause him to lose what was most precious to him.

He stood abruptly from the bed, pacing the floor of the bedroom as he dialed again. Again he got the voicemail and it took every single ounce of his self-control to not hurl his phone across the room in frustration. He took a shuddering breath and sank onto the bed, running a weary and shaking hand across his face.

He felt the bed shift as Andrea moved closer to him, “Talk to me, corazón,” she murmured, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“He’s not answering,” he told her dully, “and neither is TK.” He sighed again and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.

“That doesn’t mean we have to assume the worst,” she reminded him gently, “not yet.”

He nodded dully and reached up to cover the hand on his shoulder with his own. They waited in silence on their bed; joined together by their hands and their fear as they waited for Gabriel’s phone to ring. The moments passed like sand through a clogged hourglass; each one lasting for its own small eternity as they all piled upon each other.

Finally, his phone rang.

He snatched it up from where it was resting on his knees but paused over the screen before answering. He needed to know - they both did - but this could very well be the moment that changed their life forever. With a glance at his wife who gave his shoulder another comforting, supportive squeeze, he answered, putting it on speaker.

“Owen?” he asked in a shaky voice, “What happened? Are they okay?”

“We’re okay, dad.”

Nothing else could have made him feel the rush of joy and relief that hearing his son’s voice through the phone did in that moment. He sagged in relief, turning to Andrea to see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He gave her a watery smile before he turned his attention back to the phone in his hand.

“The house is gone,” Carlos continued; voice low, rough, and a little shaky, “but we’re safe.”

“That’s all that matters right now, mijo,” he told him. “Everything else we can handle in time.”

On the other end of the phone he heard Carlos make a noise of agreement that was cut short by a cough. He frowned and shared a glance with Andrea to see his concern reflected in her expression.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in a hospital?” he asked.

“The paramedics checked us out, dad. And then TK’s captain, when they were done. We’re fine, really.”

“Are you sure? Because…”

“We’re fine, dad,” Carlos repeated; his voice soft, but firm.

Gabriel took a breath, steadying himself. “Okay. Your mom and I are on the way, we’ll be there as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir, see you soon.”

The almost professional tone in his son’s voice hurt. He knew that it was likely a shield; a way to keep himself together in the aftermath, but he needed him to know. He had come so close - too close - to losing him, he needed him to know. “I love you, son,” he said, voice tight as he said the words he didn’t say enough.

“Love you, too.”

With those words Carlos ended the call and Gabriel felt as if all the energy had just been sapped from his body and he sank down onto the bed once again. He heaved a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. He could feel his wife looking at him, so he voiced the thought that has been ricocheting through his mind since the moment Owen had called: “This is my fault,” he admitted quietly. “I could have cost us our son, or could have caused him to lose someone he loves.”

“That’s not on you, Gabriel.”

“Yes it is - of course, it is,” he argued. “He did this to get back at me, to make me suffer. It’s completely on me.”

“Did you want to hurt Carlitos? Or TK?”

Gabriel looked up sharply, meeting his wife’s gaze with wide eyes, “Of course not!”

“Then that’s not on you. Yes, someone awful did this to hurt you; but that doesn’t mean you did it. I’m not saying I agree with what you and Owen did,” she reminded him in case he did not recall the rather heated discussion they had had earlier in the kitchen about keeping secrets and not considering the possible collateral, “but you didn’t start the fire. Someone terrible did it of their own free will and that’s on them, not you.”

Her gaze was steady as she spoke to him and her words firm: she believed what she was saying and there was not a doubt in her mind. He wished he could say the same.

But if there was one thing he knew about her after over 30 years of marriage it was that there was no arguing with her once she made up her mind. So he simply nodded and offered a weak smile. They sat in silence for another few moments before she stood up, walking up to him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Get dressed,” she told him gently, “let’s go see our son.”

He nodded and rose on shaky legs, sighing as he turned to his dresser. His emotions were still swirling inside of him; turbulent and unrestrained. He couldn’t believe they had come so close to losing their son and until he saw him with his own eyes a part of him would insist on believing they had. So he threw on the first shirt and pants he found, discarding the pajamas he had been wearing on the bed without a second thought. The small details could be handled later; all that mattered right now was getting to Carlos.

They were in his truck a few minutes later and the half-hour drive to Owen Strand’s house was spent mostly in silence as they each worked their way through the night's events. When they arrived Andrea barely waited for him to put the truck in park before she was opening her door and climbing out and striding towards the house. He followed quickly behind and the front door swung open as they approached, revealing a tall man Gabriel had never seen before.

“You must be Carlos’s folks,” he said with a nod, “they’re in here.” He stepped aside without a word and Gabriel offered him a nod of thanks, but couldn’t find the words as he stepped through the doorway and got his first sight of his son: sitting at the counter, miserable and soot-covered with his hands clutched around a mug of tea as his eyes tracked something across the room.

Gabriel followed his gaze to see TK - equally filthy and absently pacing as he spoke on the phone.

“I’m fine Mom, I promise,” Gabriel could hear him saying even as his eyes traveled back across the room to Carlos. “We both are.”

He offered Carlos a small, reassuring smile before he turned away, continuing to speak to his mother in low tones. Carlos hadn’t even noticed their presence yet, too focused on his boyfriend to catch much else, but when Andrea stepped closer and murmured his name he turned to face her quickly, eyes widening at the sight of them.

“Mom,” he said quietly, “dad.”

And then Andrea had her arms around him and he all but crumpled into her embrace, shaking as he let out a sob. Andrea whispered reassurances and Gabriel stepped closer, not wanting to intrude. But the moment he got close enough his wife released Carlos from her embrace and as he straightened he made eye contact with Gabriel.

“Dad,” he began, but Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to speak. He simply stepped closer and pulled his son into a hug, clutching him tightly.

“I was so scared, Carlitos,” he admitted, “and I am so, so sorry this happened.”

“It’s not your fault dad,” Carlos muttered and Gabriel shook his head. He was about to argue the point further when another voice interrupted.

“He’s right, Mr. Reyes,” TK said, joining them in the kitchen having finished his phone call. “It’s not your fault - or my dad’s. It’s just something that happened. It’s shitty, yeah,” he admitted, “but it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Any more discussion was halted by Andrea stepping forward to pull TK into a hug as well.

“Who is or isn’t to blame doesn’t matter,” she said firmly as she hugged TK as tight as she had Carlos a few moments before, “what matters is that you are both safe.”

“You’re right,” TK agreed from her embrace, his eyes finding Carlos, “that is what matters.”

There was more to his words, as if he was trying to convey a message that only Carlos would understand. Whatever it was, Carlos seemed to understand as his body - still in Gabriel’s embrace - lost some of its tension. A comfortable silence settled over the four of them, the low tones of the other man on the phone in the corner the only sound.

Footsteps from the stairs soon interrupted that silence and a moment later, Owen Strand turned the corner.

He smiled weakly at Gabriel and Andrea before he turned his attention back to the boys, “I put some stuff in the guest room at the end of the hall: some extra clothes and towels. I’m sure you’re going to want to get cleaned up, feel free to use whatever you find in the bathroom.”

TK nodded as Andrea released him, “Thanks dad,” he said gratefully, stepping towards Carlos. He approached and Gabriel let him go as TK held out a hand.

“Come on babe,” he said softly, “let’s go get cleaned up.”

Carlos nodded and took the offered hand, allowing his boyfriend to lead him down the hall towards the stairs. As they walked by the other man ended his phone call and called out to them.

“The others know now,” he said, “and they’re on their way, just so you know.”

TK smiled fondly and nodded, “Thanks, Judd.”

Then he and Carlos disappeared up the stairs.

Andrea looked at Owen, “The others?” she asked.

“The rest of the 126,” Judd explained as he joined them at the counter. “I was about to call them anyways but they saw it on the news first so…”

“They want to come and see that they’re okay for themselves,” Owen concluded with a nod and a small smile, “They’re good like that.”

His smile faded though as he looked at Gabriel and Andrea.

“I am so sorry,” he said. “I should have realized it faster. It was right in front of me and I almost missed it. Even as it stands I was almost too late.”

“You’re no more to blame than I am,” Gabriel told him, “I had the same information and didn’t even think of the possibility until you called me. But really we should be thanking you for saving them. From what it sounds like if you had been a minute later or if they had to wait for a fire company...”

He trailed off, the awful possibility settling over him. They had come so close to losing the one thing that was most precious and it was only thanks to either sheer luck or a miracle that they hadn’t.

Owen nodded, but his expression didn’t change. They were silent for a moment before he spoke again, “I still can’t help but feel like this is my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved maybe none of this would have happened - especially not this.”

Gabriel went to reassure him, to tell the other man that he was wrong, but he stopped. He knew that Owen wouldn’t believe him, because he didn’t. This was their fault; regardless of whether or not their children blamed them. If they hadn’t gotten involved they wouldn’t have had a target on their backs and they would still have their home.

“It takes two to make a team-up,” he said instead, nodding when Owen met his eyes. He saw understanding in his gaze; the knowledge that this was a guilt they were going to have to live with, but that they could shoulder the burden together - and make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

---------

“Is it just me or does this place feel different?” Nancy asked as she surveyed the once familiar bar.

“Does anything feel the same?” Marjan asked wearily from beside her, taking a sip of her water as she joined the paramedic in glancing around the room.

“That’s because nothing is,” Paul reminded them, “and because it’s been a weird few weeks.”

Marjan scoffed at that, “Weeks? It’s been a weird day. Our captain got arrested for arson, our fire station was blown up by said arsonist, and then it turns out that was in retaliation for the sting operation our captain secretly put together with our friend’s Texas Ranger dad and included his staged arrest. What part of that is not completely fucking bizarre?”

Paul titled his drink towards her in acknowledgment while Nancy shook her head. Mateo took a sip from his beer. “I’m just glad TK and I managed to get the house cleaned up before shift today so Cap didn’t have to come home to that,” he declared.

“Speaking of which,” Nancy said, “has anyone heard from my partner? Or his better half?”

Marjan shook her head, “He said he was heading home once we got the all-clear to leave. And given the discussion that he and Cap had before he left, I have a feeling he and Carlos have a lot of talking to do.”

“They’re going to need some time,” Paul agreed, “after everything.”

“I still can’t believe it was all a setup,” Mateo mused with a shake of his head, “I mean I knew Cap was innocent, I just had no idea he was in on a conspiracy.”

“I just can’t believe they didn’t at least tell TK and Carlos. I mean…” Nancy trailed off, but they all knew what was left unsaid and they had all heard the scene at the firehouse.

“I guess they did what they thought they had to do,” Marjan reasoned with a shrug.

“Doesn’t make it right though,” Paul reminded her darkly.

“No, it does not,” she agreed, looking back down at her glass.

There was silence then as they all let their thoughts wander, all processing the day. It’s only by chance that Majan looked up and happened to glance towards the bar. The hand absently stirring her water with her straw froze and her sharp intake of breath caught Nancy’s notice.

“Marj?” she asked, looking over to the woman sitting beside her. “What’s up?”

Marjan didn’t seem to be able to form words because she settled for gesturing vaguely to the bar, and they all followed her gaze to the tv playing idly in the corner. The news was on and there was footage of a structure burning brightly as crews battled the flames. The sight of a burning building would have been familiar to the assembled group regardless, but this particular building was familiar for an entirely different reason.

Nancy paled and the grin abruptly slid off Mateo’s face, leaving a look of horror in its wake. Paul cursed and pulled out his phone, swiping it open and tapping on TK’s name. It went right to voicemail and they all watched tensely as he scrolled further down the list to Carlos’s name before repeating the process with the same result. The three firefighters exchanged dark, scared looks. The scene on the tv was grim and they all knew first hand that with flames like that, time was key. There was a very small window to escape before escape became impossible, and they all hoped their friends had managed to find that window because the alternative was too awful to think about.

Nancy hadn’t said a word and Marjan turned to her only to see her trembling and clutching her glass too tight.

“Nance?” she asked gently, only to get a vigorous shake of her head in response.

“No,” the paramedic said softly, but firmly. “No. I can’t lose another partner. Not...not again. Not so soon.”

Marjan glanced at the others briefly to see her own pain reflected on their faces. Then she turned to Nancy, placing a comforting hand on her arm, “Hey,” she reminded her bracingly, “we don’t know anything yet. And TK knows what to do in a fire, he would have done his best to get them out as quickly as possible. Don’t count them out yet.”

She gave the other woman a smile that was shakily returned. She turned back to the other two, hoping they had a solution or an idea of what to do next but any conversation was interrupted by the sound of Paul’s phone ringing.

He answered it the moment the caller id flashed onto the screen, picking it up before the first few notes of his ringtone died out.

“Judd,” he asked quickly, “we just saw the news, do you…”

He trailed off as their acting captain spoke on the other end of the line, listening intently. After a minute, he relaxed.

“Thanks, man,” he murmured, “we needed to know. Yeah, we’re all together right now.” He listened for another minute before he nodded, “Yeah, we’ll head over there shortly. Thanks, man, really.”

With that, he hung up the phone and the other three stared at him expectantly.

“Do not make me turn to violence Strickland,” Nancy told him after a few more moments of silence, “because I will.”

“They’re okay,” he told them and the resolution to the tension that had been pressing on them rippled across their table.

“Alhamdulillah,” Marjan muttered softly and Nancy’s entire body seemed to sag as she leaned forward, placing her head into her hands with a shuddering breath.

“Do they know what happened?” Mateo asked, and Paul nodded grimly.

“Arson,” he replied, “retaliation from Raymond; revenge against both the men who arrested him.”

“Ranger Reyes and Cap,” Marjan provided softly, shaking her head. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Paul agreed, “it’s a whole mess. And the house is a total loss. But,” he reminded them all after another few moments of silent contemplation around the table, “they’re okay. Judd said they're all at Cap’s house now, and I told him we would head over there.”

He looked around the table to see if there were any objections but as he expected, there were none. He nodded and took another sip from his beer before setting the still half-full glass down on the table and standing up. The others followed suit and they migrated to Marjan’s car in silent agreement that there was no need to take 4 separate cars and a shared desire to get there as quickly as possible.

They drove in silence and when they arrived, Mateo led the way in through the front door. They followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the small gathered crowd at the counter. Owen stood up and offered them a smile, “hey guys.”

“Hey Cap,” Mateo said while Paul added: “Good to see you not arrested.”

Owen laughed weakly before gesturing towards the others at the counter, “These are Carlos’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes.” They nodded at the tired-looking couple who smiled back as Owen concluded his introductions of the new arrivals to the Reyes.

They all stepped further into the kitchen at Owen’s insistence before Marjan asked the question that was on everyone’s mind: “Where are they? Are they really okay?”

“They are,” Owen confirmed, Judd nodding his agreement beside him, “but shaken, understandably. They’re upstairs now, trying to get cleaned up.”

“It could take a while,” Judd said lowly and the others nodded in understanding - they were all too familiar with the struggle of trying to scrub the remnants of a fire from your skin but that was from a stranger’s fire; someone else’s tragedy. None of them could imagine what it must be like to have the reminder of your home being destroyed clinging to your skin.

“Man, I can’t believe this,” Mateo said with a shake of his head and it was clear that was a sentiment shared by the rest of the group.

“Is there anything we can do?” Marjan asked, looking from Owen to the Reyes. “I want to help, I just don’t know how we can.”

Owen shrugged helplessly, “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Give them time, I suppose. Be there for them. They’re going to have to start over and that’s not going to be easy.”

There was a heavy silence over the group as they all considered the task before their loved ones. It seemed insurmountable; too much to take on.

“But they have each other,” Andrea reminded the group, “and all of us. It doesn’t make it better, but it does make it easier.”

There were small smiles and nods of agreement at that and before long they fell into comfortable chatter while they waited. The conversation wasn’t uncomfortable, but none of their hearts were in it. All of their collective focus was on the pair currently upstairs and despite repeated reassurances that they were fine, none of the newly arrived group would truly be able to believe it until they saw them with their own eyes.

Nancy in particular seemed agitated, shifting on her feet and glancing up the stairs every now and then. Marjan could almost feel the anxious energy rolling off of the other woman from where she stood beside her. She knew that they were all worried, but she also knew that Nancy was still healing from the loss of Tim. It had hit them all, but none more than her; rightfully so. The thought now that she could lose her new partner - the one she had finally let into her heart - was clearly affecting her, manifesting itself into an anxiety that would likely not fade until she was able to see TK herself.

Marjan held out a hand anyways, finding Nancy’s under the lip of the counter and squeezing it. She met her surprised look with a soft smile that widened when Nancy relaxed, some of the tension leaving her body at the touch and the knowledge that her burden was shared.

Hand still clasped with Nancy’s beneath the counter and away from curious eyes, Marjan turned her attention to where Paul was talking through the case with Ranger Reyes and their Captain. Given everything she had heard she had expected more enthusiasm in the retelling of their sleight of hand to trick the arsonist into walking into their trap. But they were subdued as they talked, almost regretful in hindsight. Given everything, she supposed that was more than fair. She just hadn’t been sure they would feel the same way.

There was nothing like almost losing the people you cared for most in a disaster of your own making to deflate an ego, she supposed.

She met Paul’s eyes briefly and his expression told her that he had thoughts that she would likely hear later. She tried to tune into the conversation, willing herself to focus on what was happening right before her, but she couldn’t seem to pull her attention away from the stairs and her friends somewhere on the other side of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Judd’s reassurance that they were fine, but she had been a firefighter for a long time. She had seen the footage of the flames and the skeleton left behind in the aftermath of their fire on the news and she knew that there was a wide gulf between fine and okay.

And until she saw them she had no idea where in that gulf they were treading, or how well they were keeping their heads above water.

It’s still another few minutes until they hear footsteps on the stairs. All conversation dies in an instant and all gazes turn to the stairs to see them descending: hand in hand and miraculously in one piece.

She’s the first to get over the surprise, dropping Nancy’s hand in favor of closing the distance between them and pulling TK into a gentle hug. He returns it and she allows herself a moment to absorb the fact that he is safe and whole before she moves on - both needing the same assurances from Carlos and knowing that Nancy is at her heels and needs this just as much as she does.

Carlos’s smile is so dim when he looks at her that she squeezes him extra tight. He seems to melt just a bit in her arms and she feels a pang for her friends. Though they are both whole and mostly unscathed it was clear they were not okay. But that is something that would come, she supposed, with time. She couldn’t help but shake her head, voicing what everyone else was thinking: “I can’t believe this happened.”

“I guess there’s no saying what a revenge-motivated arsonist will do,” TK said with a shrug. There was silence after as no one seemed to know how to respond to that until Paul, who had been studying them, spoke.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in a hospital?” he asked them in a skeptical voice, “You don’t sound good and you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Thanks, Paul,” TK said with a roll of his eye but his words only further served to confirm that his voice was still raspy from smoke. “And we were checked on scene: both by the 129’s team and Captain Vega. We’re fine, really.”

“Maybe we should sit down though,” Nancy suggested, studying her partner and Carlos with a critical eye.

TK shook his head at her but didn’t fight the migration as the group moved to the living room and they settled on the sofa together, just as they had at the intervention all those weeks ago. In some ways this was earlier similar: the group gathered in the Strand living room, the somber mood in the air. But it was TK and Carlos at the center now; both whole and unhurt, but so far from okay.

They fell into easy conversation as they sat, falling into their usual patterns and habits like breathing. But Marjan made sure to watch them as they all spoke and she saw the way they clung to each other, even if it wasn’t physical. They were far from alone but it seemed that to each of them the other was the only one in the room that mattered. She couldn’t blame them for that and it didn’t surprise her.

But a glance around the space revealed just how many people were in their corner and just how much love and support was ready for them to grasp onto whenever they wanted and whenever they were ready. She hoped that it was soon because she didn’t like the thought of them shouldering such a burden alone - even if they did have each other.

She supposed they would come to see that and that they would take the hands that were offered to keep them from falling. All in good time.

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

They ascended the stairs in silence, hand in hand, neither of them speaking until the door to the bathroom was shut securely behind them. In the security and privacy of the enclosed and private space, TK stepped closer to Carlos, reaching out a hand to frame his face and gently run his thumb across his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

Carlos shrugged non-committedly, “Okay, I guess. I just really want to get clean.”

“If there’s one benefit of my dad’s obsession with skincare, it’s that there are plenty of soaps to help with that,” TK told him with a grin. Carlos gave him a smile in response, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it by the way it didn’t reach his eyes; Carlos’s smiles always reached his eyes. TK let his own grin fade and let his hand fall from Carlos’s face down to his shoulder.

“Why don’t you get undressed,” he suggested gently, “I’ll go grab whatever my dad left in the bedroom for us.”

He gave his boyfriend’s shoulder a light squeeze before stepping away. He was about to move to the door when Carlos’s hand reached out and grabbed him. He turned back to the other man, to see his surprise mirrored on his face.

“I…” Carlos began but trailed off as if he couldn’t quite find the words he wanted to say. TK had a feeling he understood though.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured Carlos, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Carlos held his gaze for a moment before nodding, letting his hand drop as TK stepped away again, heading once more for the bathroom door. He opened it softly, slipping out into the hallway and closing it behind him. He crossed to the guest room and barely even stopped to glance at the items left on the bed. He simply gathered them all - a haphazard bundle of towels and clothes in his arms - before turning on his heel and heading back to the bathroom and Carlos. He knocked once, lightly tapping on the door before he opened it to reveal Carlos. He had removed his shirt in the time TK had been gone but now he was simply staring at his bare chest and arms in the mirror, his gaze tracing the lines of soot winding across his body. TK set down his bundle and stepped closer, his own reflection appearing besides Carlos’s as he met his eyes in the mirror.

“I always find it’s the smell that’s the worst,” he murmured. “That’s the part that always got to me.”

“It feels heavy,” Carlos said dully. “Like it’s clinging to my skin and it’s always going to be there.”

“We can fix that,” TK promised him.

He gently pulled Carlos away from the mirror, helping him to remove the rest of his clothes before he turned on the shower. Then he removed his own clothes, tossing their smoke-filled and singed clothes into a heap next to the bathroom door to be dealt with later. He reached a hand back into the shower to check the temperature and when he was satisfied he reached for Carlos’s hand, guiding him into the shower and the stream of warm water.

He grabbed one of the soaps off the ledge and squeezed some into his hand before beginning to rub it against Carlos’s body.

“It may take a few tries,” he told him, “but we’ll get it all off.”

He scrubbed at his skin gently, making circular repetitive motions up his arms and across his chest. Carlos watched him quietly, allowing him complete control as he washed away the remnants of the night. TK could see his eyes tracking the soot as it faded into the water and traveled down to the drain.

“And just like that, there goes what’s left of our home,” he said darkly.

TK froze, looking sharply up at Carlos and meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he reminded him, voice firm, “as long as we have each other, we still have a home.”

Carlos’s expression turned to one of surprise before he wilted, leaning closer to TK. TK abandoned his scrubbing in favor of wrapping his arms around the other man and allowing the warm water to wash over their intertwined bodies.

“My home is you, Carlos, it has been for a while,” he said, his words loud and clear in the confines of the shower and their embrace. “Nothing can change that. As long as we have each other, we’re going to be okay.”

His words settled around them like the water droplets bouncing off their skin and Carlos nodded. TK tightened his embrace, clutching his boyfriend tighter for another moment before he pressed a kiss onto the top of his shoulder blade and stepped away; not straying further than the hand still on his shoulder would allow. He studied Carlos, taking in the glint of his warm brown eyes and the slump of his shoulders.

“Are you okay to finish?” he asked softly, receiving a nod in return. He grabbed the soap again and resumed scrubbing them both, methodically removing the reminders from their skin.

Carlos was quiet as he worked but TK had the sense he was studying him, almost as if he was trying to solve a riddle.

“How are you so okay?” he finally asked. “We almost died an hour ago and you’re fine. How?”

TK slowed in his motions as he considered, trying to find the right way to explain. He settled on a shrug: “I don’t know if I am okay. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. Besides,” he added as he moved his hands up to Carlos’s hair, “I’ve been trapped in fire hundreds of times. It’s scary but after a while, you get used to it.”

He paused to get more soap and to find the right words. He needed to explain, but he wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Carlos to feel any less for his reaction, for his fear.

“I remember my first time in a house fire,” he said eventually as he squeezed the last of a bottle of shampoo into his palm. “I was maybe a week out of the academy and though you go through training and simulations, nothing can quite prepare you for the real thing. It was a bad one, too: an old house in Bushwick that went up like a tinderbox. I made it through fine, but I was probably shaking for at least an hour after. And that was with training and gear in a stranger’s home. That wasn’t my home, and I wasn’t trapped with the person I loved; worried I could lose them. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling, Carlos; however you are feeling it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Logically I know that,” Carlos agreed. “But…”

“But knowing it is different from actually feeling it,” TK suggested, receiving a nod in return. He smiled sadly at the other man, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Sometimes I wonder if your shoulders hurt from trying to carry the weight of the world on them,” he told Carlos softly. “And that’s who you are, I get that. You always want to look out for others; always want to make sure everyone else is safe and happy. It’s why you became a cop and it’s a big part of what makes you who you are. It’s one of the things I love about you.” He paused to smile, running his hands across Carlos’s broad chest: newly clean and red from the scrubbing before he continued.

“But sometimes you need to feel things too, Carlos. Sometimes you have to lean on someone else. And I know I might not always do such a good job of reminding you, but I can be that someone you lean on when you need it. I want to be. We’re a team, right? And that means we take care of each other. So whatever you are feeling now, you are not alone. I’m here for you - every step of the way. And if I need it later, when this whole mess finally processes, I know you’ll be there for me too.”

“We lean on each other,” Carlos agreed softly, and TK smiled at him again, reaching behind him to shut off the water.

“Always,” he promised him, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips before he exited the shower, “no matter what.”

They dried and dressed silently, pulling on borrowed clothes that felt almost foreign against their freshly washed skin. TK spared a glance at their discarded clothes, still in a heap by the door. He debated throwing them out, but he couldn’t bear the thought. They were the only thing they still had that was theirs, after all. He gently picked them up and placed them in the hamper, making a mental note to try to wash them tomorrow, to see if they could be salvaged. Then, task completed, he looked back to Carlos.

“You ready?” he asked. Carlos took a deep breath and nodded, offering him a smile that still didn’t reach his eyes, but it was closer.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TK nodded, but hesitated at the door.

“If it’s too much, if you need to step away,” he began, “tell me. I’ll find an excuse. And even if I can’t everyone will understand.”

Carlos nodded and reached for TK’s hand, winding their fingers together.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Just, stay with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured Carlos, squeezing his hand gently and holding his gaze for another moment before they headed downstairs to where their friends and family were waiting for them.

The sound of chatter drifted up the stairs as they approached, but it died as they reached the bottom of the stairs and when they entered the kitchen, all eyes turned to them. The familiar gazes were filled with sympathy and relief, and TK forced a smile; holding Carlos’s hand a little tighter.

“Hey guys,” he said and his words seemed to be the catalyst needed to break the spell. Marjan is the first to approach, pulling first him and then Carlos into a gentle hug. Nancy is right behind her, squeezing TK tightly and holding on for a few moments longer.

“You really need to stop with this almost dying every other week bullshit,” she muttered into his shoulder, “I need my partner.”

He chuckled softly, returning the hug, “I’ll try my best, Nance,” he promised.

“Good,” she told him, pulling away and blinking away the tears that were slowly filling her eyes, “Because breaking in a new one is a lot of work. I don’t have that in me again this year.”

He gave her a smile as he pulled away, pulling Carlos into a hug and lingering there as well, murmuring something to him in low tones. He was pulled away from their moment by Paul appearing before him, wrapping him into a hug. The other man didn’t say anything, but he looked at TK for a long moment as he pulled away, his analytical gaze taking him in. TK offered him a half-smile, and Paul nodded before stepping closer to Carlos. The next hug was full of forceful enthusiasm and TK smiled fondly as he found his footing again after Mateo nearly bowled him over.

Once they had all gotten their hugs in his team stood back, taking them in. Marjan was the first to speak, voice low in disbelief, “I can’t believe this happened.”

TK looked past them to where his dad sat watching them. Their eyes met and TK knew that they were both thinking the same thing: this could have been avoided. He had meant it earlier when he said it wasn’t his dad or Gabriel’s fault. Neither of them had started the fire and he knew that. He didn’t blame them for the fire.

But there were other offenses and other hurts they had caused when they had charged into a situation with no regard for how it might affect anyone else. He didn’t feel up to broaching that subject just yet, he knew he would have to. He suspected Carlos would have some feelings on it as well, once the shock had worn off a bit. For now, they could dance around it and he could let his dad’s silent remorse be enough.

“I guess there’s no saying what a revenge-motivated arsonist will do,” he said eventually, pulling his focus back to the group before them.

No one seemed to know what to say to that, and he couldn’t say that he blamed them. Instead, he tried for a smile as he took Carlos’s hand in his own again. He could feel Paul studying them both and parried his questions about hospital visits. They were fine - or at least as fine as they could be.

The suggestion to move to the couch was a welcome one however and he tugged lightly at Carlos’s hand, guiding him to one of the couches. He let Carlos sit before he settled in beside him, pressing against his side to both provide and receive the reassurance that they were both there. The conversation ebbed and flowed around them and while TK interjected from time to time he mostly let it all wash over him. He and Carlow were both here; they were both safe. Their friends and families were with them and whatever would come they would face, just like he had told Carlos earlier.

Now if he could only get himself to believe it.

The conversation is light and not too hard to follow (purposefully so, he’s sure, and he appreciates it) and soon they are joined by their parents and Judd as they migrate from the kitchen. Judd comes up behind them and places a warm hand on TK’s shoulder.

“I’ve gotta get home to Grace,” he tells them. “She sends her love, and probably some food tomorrow too, if I know my wife. But hey,” he paused to squeeze TK’s shoulder, looking between him and Carlos as he spoke, “you let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, just ask.”

TK and Carlos both nodded. TK was about to thank his friend, but Carlos beat him to it, “Thank you Judd,” he said earnestly. “For the offer and for earlier. I…” he trailed off, looking at TK before clearing his throat and trying again, “I don’t know how to ever thank you for that.”

“And you don’t need to,” Judd said firmly. “Not only is it my job, but it’s what you do for family and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d rather I never have to though, so let’s all try to avoid fires in our off hours from here on out, yeah?”

The last bit was directed at the room at large and pulled a few chuckles from the others, but when Judd looked back down at them his expression was soft and his smile sincere. He put his other hand on Carlos’s shoulder and gave them each a comforting squeeze before he moved his hands, giving the rest of the group a wave before he headed out the door.

“We should probably be heading out soon too,” Andrea said regretfully. “It’s getting late and you boys are going to need sleep after everything and I’m sure Owen doesn’t need a houseful.”

“On the contrary,” Owen countered immediately, “I love a houseful. And it just so happens that I have an extra guest room, if you’d rather stay.”

Carlos’s parents didn’t respond right away and TK watched as his dad’s expression softened before he spoke again, “I’m sure you want to stay close, because I know I do. There’s no reason you should have to leave just because we ended up at my house. You are more than welcome to stay, really. That applies to all of you, really,” he added in a heartier tone. “Obviously not Mateo because he already lives here but you all are welcome too, always.”

“As tempting as that is and as much as I appreciate it, really, I’m pretty sure you’re out of guest rooms cap, and my place isn’t that far,” Marjan responded, and Paul and Nancy nodded.

“What Marj said, Captain Strand,” Nancy said awkwardly with a nervous smile.

“Likewise,” he said. “I do really appreciate it though, and you can bet I will be over here tomorrow to check in on you two.” At Marjan and Nancy’s pointed looks he sighed, “ We will be back tomorrow.”

Owen first glanced at TK and Carlos and upon their nods, he smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he confirmed, smiling at the group.

They all rose then, extending their goodbyes, reminding them of the standing offer. Anything you need was repeated over and over again but TK knew that they meant it. There was no false sincerity or empty words here - not with these people, not for them. Eventually, the three of them headed out into the night and Mateo headed off to his room leaving TK and Carlos alone with their parents.

There was silence in the wake of Mateo’s door closing, for a beat. Then Andrea Reyes, who had been studying the boys as the others made their exit looked first to her husband and then to Owen.

“If you really don’t mind…” she began, but Owen cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her. “In fact, it would make me feel better.”

There was something unspoken that passed through their parents, confirmed with a smile from Carlos’s mother and a nod from his father. But his focus - whatever portion of it that wasn’t honed in on Carlos and the presence of him beside him - was soon interrupted by a yawn that caused all eyes to turn to him. He could feel his face turning red as he stammered.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude but…”

“But it has been a long day, and you boys have been through a lot,” Andrea finished gently. “You should go to bed, you need rest. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Carlos shifted beside him and TK could see him gearing up to argue, whether about his parents staying or the fact that they were fine, but his dad cut him off.

“Listen to your mother, Carlitos,” he said gently, “you know as well as I do she’s always right.”

Carlos still looked like he wanted to argue, but TK placed a hand on his knee drawing his attention back to him and he smiled. Carlos held his gaze for a few minutes before he relaxed and nodded before standing and offering TK a hand. TK took it with a smile, allowing his boyfriend to pull him off the couch. No sooner was he on his feet than Andrea Reyes was before them, offering them each a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Go get some rest,” she told them softly, “we can start to figure everything out in the morning.”

TK glanced over at their dads who both wore sad but sincere smiles. He studied them all; their newly meshed families that had blended so well trying to place this in his head with everything else. He couldn’t but he knew that he would, in time.

For now, he allowed himself to be led to the stairs by Carlos and with one last wave to their collective parents, they disappeared up them; shutting themselves into the privacy of their temporary bedroom. The sight of the bed was enticing and TK flopped onto it, suddenly aware of how quickly all the energy had left his body now that there was no more goal to push towards. He heard a small chuckle and the sensation of the bed dipping beside him as Carlos sank onto his side far more gracefully and once he was sure he had settled he rolled so he was facing the other man.

“So,” he began, “our parents are having a slumber party.”

Carlos chuckled and TK grinned at him before the mood turned more somber again.

“This is all kind of surreal,” Carlos admitted after a moment. “Not only did our house burn down but I’m now spending the night at my boyfriend’s dad’s house with my parents staying in the other guest room. It’s just a lot to take in. Especially…”

Carlos trailed off and TK shifted so he had a better view of his face. “Especially what, Carlos?” he prompted softly, running a gentle hand down his arm, watching as he tried to get his thoughts in order.

“I’ve never doubted my parents love me,” he said after some time, “not for a moment. And I know now that they don’t have a problem with me being gay and they are supportive of that, and us. I even know how much they like you,” he added with a smile, pulling TK’s hand closer and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

TK grinned at him but knew that there was more he wasn’t saying. “But?” he prompted.

“But the thought that they are here, that both of our families are together? I’m just having a hard time processing that, I think. It’s a lot very quickly.”

TK nodded, “That’s understandable, babe. So much has changed recently and you’re allowed to struggle with that, I will never judge you for that. But it’s a good thing, right? Our families getting along?”

“It is,” Carlos assured him quickly. “Though,” he added dryly, “I’m not sure how much of our dads scheming we can be reasonably expected to survive.”

TK groaned and tucked his head into Carlos’s shoulder, “Don’t remind me. I’d like to think they learned their lesson…”

“But it is hard to say with them,” Carlos agreed. “Which is why I think we need to talk to them about it, soon.”

TK pulled back from Carlos and placed his head back on his own pillow with a sigh, “You’re right,” he agreed, “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I just couldn’t handle it tonight.”

“Me neither,” Carlos confirmed with a nod. “But I suppose they’ll both be here tomorrow, we can try then.”

TK hummed in agreement before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. It wasn’t even that he was ready to sleep yet. There was just so much in his head and he didn’t know where to put it all. There was noise coming from every corner of his mind and he couldn’t seem to drown any of it out.

“Ty?” Carlos’s asked, his gentle voice cutting through the dark and silent room, “How are you doing?”

TK took a moment to think, to try to organize the mess in his mind. There was really no concrete answer to give, but he turned again so he was facing Carlos before he did his best to answer.

“I’m upset,” TK said after some consideration. It took some time to find the right words for everything he was feeling. “And annoyed at our dads and still so scared at what could have been. I’m overwhelmed with everything we have to do now, with the idea of having to start over. But mostly,” he added, knowing that what came next was the strongest truth of all, “I’m worried about you.”

Carlos furrowed his brow, “Why?”

“Because it was your home, Carlos.” He shook his head as Carlos opened his mouth to argue, “I know it was our home, but it was your home first. You’re allowed to be upset about that Carlos.”

Carlos was quiet for a moment, absentmindedly running a hand down TK’s arm as he considered, “You’re right,” he said eventually. “It’s hard. That condo was the first place I could really be myself, the place where I started to build my life. The place where we started to build our life. And I’m upset about it - it hurts to think about. But then I think about what could have been and...I really didn’t think we were going to make it out of there, TK.”

His voice grew thicker and tears filled his eyes once again but TK reached across the space between them to gently brush them away.

“But we did,” he reminded him firmly. “We did and we’re okay. We may not have a home anymore, but we have each other.”

“Which means we will always have a home,” Carlos agreed, echoing his words from earlier. “And I know it’s not ideal, but now we get to start something new together. It’s going to be scary and hard and it’s not going to happen quickly, but we’ll make it work. We have family and friends to help us, and we have each other.”

And as they lay there in a spare bed at TK’s father’s house; friends and family alike waiting in the wings to offer them love and support and the man he loved more than anything else in the world whole and safe right beside him, TK knew what Carlos said was true. He moved closer to the other man, readjusting so his arms were wrapped around his torso and his head rested on his chest; the steady beating of his heart a steady companion to help and hold off the fears hovering so close by. It was a reminder too; that they had both made it out and that he wasn’t alone. That he never would be.

There were so many uncertainties and unanswered questions but there was one thing TK Strand knew for sure: as long as they had each other, they would be okay.

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I ask headcanons about being Inarizaki manager?

A/N: Hi there and of course you can! You’re my first Haikyuu anon so I hope this lived up to your expectations! I also gave your request a little backstory so you’ll hopefully enjoy this! (´･ᴗ･ ` )

Tags: Inarizaki x reader ✅ SFW ✅ friendship ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

bearing the title of Inarizaki’s manager was no easy task, in fact, it was pretty tiring and demanded a lot from the person who owned it

or at least that’s what a lot of the failed applicants claimed

it was no secret that the volleyball team organized a test period that lasted a week for each participant and rumor has it that no one has ever made it past day three

there were a lot of people from your class mostly girls that had tried their luck and were overly-confident that they’d be chosen, but right after being failed they never mentioned the volleyball club again

you on the other hand were genuinely interested in the manager position and after contemplating whether or not to apply, with the amount of support you got from your family, friends and teachers you finally found the courage to write your name on the waiting list

unfortunately for your nerves the applicants before you failed way too quickly and before you knew it, your turn had come

a young friendly-looking man with dark and spikey hair came to your classroom on a Monday morning to tell you all the details concerning the club activity later this afternoon

you listened to him attentively, trying to memorize every single detail he told you, but he must’ve noticed how nervous you were because he suddenly stopped mid-sentence

“I’m sorry, you must surely think I’m super rude for not introducing myself first before I bombarded you with all those information. My name’s Akagi and I’m Inarizaki’s libero, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

now that you were more relaxed the two of you wrapped your chat up and bid each other goodbye before you returned to your classroom and waited for your first class to start

all those rumors about the team giving off an entirely different aura than anyone else in school was truly no exaggeration

the moment you entered the gym the prevalent tension alone was enough to make you rethink your plans, but before you could do anything a gentle voice spoke out to you

“Are you this week’s manager candidate?”

when you turned around to see who had asked you that question, you saw a tall young man with a darker skin tone smile down at you

you affirmed his question, introducing yourself with the same nervous tone from before, and fortunately, he as well showed you an equal amount of sympathy as Akagi

“I know that it must be quite overwhelming, but you really shouldn’t worry too much about it. You know I’m actually not supposed to give you any tips, but...out of everyone who walked in here you look the most promising so...just be yourself!”

and with that, the two of you walked towards the rest of his teammates so that you could finally introduce yourself to them

truth be told you expected some kind of long interrogation process and nosy questions, but they paid you good to no attention and just introduced themselves briefly

when they went back to practice their moves the captain stayed behind and asked you some general questions such as how much experience you have with volleyball and if you’re busy during the weekends

after everyone went to go and change, you stayed behind to help some of the substitute players out with cleaning the gym floors and dirty balls when Kita joined you with the cleanup

he must’ve noticed your surprised face since after just a short while he spoke up

“Please pay me no mind, I do these things quite often, so this won’t be the last time my actions will surprise you.”

“Do you do these things out of...obligation?”

the other club members were quite surprised by your sudden question, but it made the light-grey haired young man crack a smile as he told you that he was simply used to doing things the right and proper way

his remark seemed of low importance at that time, but his reasoning still stuck with you, and unbeknownst to you it helped you out quite a bit

the second day passed similar to the first one, but with the only exception that you were allowed to help out with the warming-up exercises

while everyone stretched you were finally able to get a better look at the members and you even took some notes on which exercise they did, which position they played in most frequently, and how they behaved towards their teammates

you used the moment they benched you to go over everything you learned today and needless to say there were a few very noticeable personalities that might need more time to befriend than Aran or Akagi

the first two that stood out were the Miya twins

everyone in school knew them for their constant fights amongst each other, but seeing them play and fight up close was an entirely different experience

they randomly screamed at each other when some tactic didn’t work out how they’d imagined it, but all things considered, they made a great and powerful duo

it also didn’t take you long to tell them apart look wise as well as characterwise which facilitated your notes about them

Suna was the third person you’d have to look out for and pay very close attention to

judging from his playstyle he was quite the troublesome opponent

according to some of the players who sat close to you, he was able to manipulate the blockers to jump right where he wanted them to and some of that manipulation skills even stayed with him beyond the game and made out a big part of his personality

but on a more positive note, he also had a more fun side to him

he noticed surprisingly quick if someone wasn’t in a good mood and depending on how long he’d known them he was also able to cheer them up, but this special service heavily relied on his current mood

as for the rest of the members, they seemed friendly enough and as time passed you were confident that they’d accept you in their circle of friends

the rest of the week passed by in a flash and before you knew it the last day of your “manager exam” had arrived

you were nervous as well as quite afraid that you might not have provided them with the service they needed or wished for, but the confident grins on Aran’s and Akagi’s faces managed to reassure your beating heart

everyone waited for Kita to arrive and with each passing minute you felt like you would pass out

and after what felt like an eternity he finally entered the gym with a black duffle bag and headed straight toward you

he handed you the bag without saying anything, it was after you had taken the small bundle into your hands that he spoke up, a small smile spreading across his facial features

“We’ve tested you throughout this entire week and I’m pretty sure not every single task we entrusted you with was pleasant, but you still held out and did everything the right and proper way...thank you and with this, I’d like to welcome you as Inarizaki’s first and official manager.“

it took you a short while to comprehend just what had happened and while you were still looking at the captain like a lost lamb the rest of the members surrounded and congratulated you

the person who brought you back from your daydream was Atsumu, who tightly wrapped his arms around you in a congratulatory hug

you were quite surprised since up until now he was rather well-behaved and didn’t concern himself so much with you except the usual ‘thank yous’, ‘hellos’ and ‘good evenings’ a club member would give his piers

your bewilderment must’ve been quite evident since someone pulled the blond giant away from you with a sigh

and that someone was no other than his twin brother Osamu who whispered a small apology to you and began to lecture him

“What’s it to ya ‘Samu? Ain’t it ‘bout time we dropped that whole act?”

before they could confuse you more than you already were, Ren placed his big hand on your shoulder giving you a somewhat awkward smile that was meant to console you

Hitoshi joined you two and explained how the team always had to show each candidate the cold shoulder in order to make sure that all applicants were aware of the fact that being the VBC’s manager didn’t mean partying around and chatting up a storm with the members

I see was all you could answer to that rather absurd rule they had come up with

your first day as the official manager didn’t vary that much from what you had seen during your test week, but at least now you were properly talking with all of the members

needless to say, you also became this day’s conversation topic number one

wherever you walked people would whisper amongst each other how you were the chosen one despite so many applicants

some of your classmates though had the audacity to doubt that you had won the guys over in a legitimate way and made no effort to hide their baseless accusations by speaking unnaturally loud when they were near you

it did bother you a little, but you decided to ignore their envious attempts to get you mad, sad, or whatever their goal was and dedicate yourself to getting to know your club members better...

the first few weeks you spent on getting to know the members’ skills as well as their personalities better than what you had seen already in the past week

and before you knew it, you had become not only an essential and precious part of the team but also an irreplaceable friend and companion to each of them

you made sure to help the two captains out as much as you could, but you didn’t only do it out of obligation but because you felt bad for leaving these two - especially Kita - alone with all important tasks

oddly enough a powerful team like theirs didn’t have an advisor so most organizational tasks fell on their shoulders

Kita as dutiful and thorough as he was always tackled the tasks the moment they were given to him so neither Aran nor you ever had the chance to volunteer as helpers

one day though you accepted the assignments before him and distributed them amongst the three of you as equally as you could, whereas you took on a slightly bigger portion since you were their manager

you also made sure that Kita didn’t stay behind until all the streetlights turned on and so it became a tradition for you to join him and Aran on their way back home

during those walks, you got extremely close with them and since they often discussed training and club-related matters, you were also able to learn additional things as well as plan the players’ training regimen for the following days

when you weren’t by their side, you either warmed the bench alongside the other substitute players or tried to help Hitoshi tame the two brothers

you were aware of their regular disputes and had already witnessed one yourself, but back then the team had helped resolve it so you weren’t needed

and now that they had finally found a manager, they reverted back to their habitual behavior: ignore and enjoy their dispute, film it or just look for Kita to resolve the issue

you on the other hand took it upon yourself to play the mediator and started by stopping Suna from recording or taking a photo of them

needless to say, he wasn’t very happy when you confiscated his phone, but after you explained to him that you were simply worried that as heated as the siblings were they’d one day drag him into their fight, he proposed you a deal

“Let me take at least five photos and two videos before I help with calming them down.“

your eyes narrowed as you took on a very confident pose which made it pretty obvious that you weren’t going to back down from his attempt to bargain with you

“Two photos and one video.“

“Make it three.”

“Denied. You either settle for two photos and one video or nothing at all...take it or leave it Suna.”

as much as he wanted to protest, your smug grin made him yield in the end

next up were the taller and more intimidating-looking players who’d usually stand by and laugh or sigh

“Are you really ok with the whole school making fun of our club and treating it like some kind of fighting club just because of these two dunces?”

they were quite surprised at your sudden question but weren’t as taken aback as you when they immediately headed for the gym doors to shoo away all onlookers

as for the troublesome siblings you usually stood between them the moment you sensed that they were about to fight

they’d still try to somehow either pinch the other or slap his backside and you at first tolerated it, but after a while, it just got too distracting and annoying so you straight out took hold of each of their hands and wordlessly glared at them

that method started a new trend and now their teammates constantly teased them for being your children and how funny it was to look at their embarrassed faces while you on the other hand showed no reaction whatsoever

you didn’t expect that sort of outcome, but as long as it stopped their fighting it was worth it

as their manager, you were also put in charge of organizing training matches as well as signing them up for tournaments and nationals (with the help of the coaches and captains of course)

your first training match was quite exciting and you were surprised at the number of people that came to see it

the guys were almost always in their top form when they played so you rarely had to worry about their health condition and that took quite the weight from your shoulders

even if someone showed the slightest symptoms of a cold or anything of that sorts, Kita and you would instantly be there and get the player to go home and rest

you knew that some of them hated being sick since it meant that they’d miss out on practice and saw it as some kind of betrayal towards the team

Atsumu was one of these types of people and he was the heaviest case out of all of them

so you made sure to drop by the twins’ house after club activities ended and cheer him up, by changing the cloth on his forehead, cutting some apples for him, or just being there to keep him company

after that Osamu would always insist on bringing you home since the sun had already set

the two of you would always talk about the most random things, but sometimes your conversations got quite serious and personal

in fact, you were the first person he shared his future plans with, saying that he could trust you with keeping it a secret

as for the nationals...

your first one was very overwhelming

the gym was so enormous that it outshined any other gym you had visited with them

it was no secret that the entire ambiance intimidated you and the moment you saw their personal cheering squad you couldn’t help but freeze-up

you had heard that their cheering squad was like no other and that it even rivaled that of many other powerhouse schools, but much like other rumors you had dismissed it

...until now

“Impressive isn’t it?” Ren asked to which you just nodded

but you noticed quickly just how much of an effect their audience had during the match

their steady and powerful rhythms managed to not only motive your team but also discompose your opponents

what surprised you the most was how the older gentlemen in the crowd didn’t hold back on their snide remarks when someone made a mistake or didn’t play seriously

after each match, all of you had come up with small rituals you’d do

depending on the outcome of the game you’d either throw a small party to commemorate their victory or try to cheer them up with a motivational speech followed by a movie night

all in all, you truly came to love volleyball, as well as your team and each of its members, and they did too

they were truly happy to have won such a dependable and caring manager like yourself

the entire team always made sure to celebrate your birthday and go all out on your presents as well as on the party they’d organize for you

all of them always made sure to return your kindness with double the effort and love you had given them

you were sick?

no problem, every day two members would visit you and take turns in taking care of your needs until you were healthy

you were sad?

they’d buy you your favorite snacks, cook you your favorite meal, rent your favorite movie and then knock on your front door, demanding to be let in

...and so on

they had become something like your second family and you didn’t even dare imagine a scenario where you didn’t apply for the position of the manager

the same goes for them, they had given up the hope to find someone who manages their team, but the moment you had entered the gym they almost instantly knew that you’d be the one to take them to victory

and they were right...

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #inarizaki headcanons #haikyuu fluff #━𝙷𝚀 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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rynnrose · 3 years

Text

CASTLETON [PART FOURTEEN]

You honestly can’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Sure, it was nice to see your friends at the end of the summer, and you’d even been looking forward to attending your last Welcoming Feast, but none of those things could compare to this. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to focus on anything other than war and destruction that you’ve almost forgotten the rush of adrenaline that overwhelms you before every game. After a year of little more than pain, suffering, and quite literally fighting for your life, you welcome the sensation with open arms.

The match isn’t set to start for another ten minutes, and already you can hear the chanting in the stands. Nearly every student in the school has come out to see you play, if Hooch is to be believed, and you can’t wait to give them a show. The first Quidditch game of the year is always an ordeal, particularly whenever your house is involved. Part of you wishes that you’d been pitted against Gryffindor — they always give you a run for your money, though you’d rather die than tell them that — but given the hostility between the snakes and lions, you suppose competing against them would only make things worse. Still, you hope things calm down soon; you owe Ginny and Jungkook a good game.

You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this until you started practicing again. It was easy to get lost in the drama at Hogwarts, particularly in the past few years. Even you and your friends weren’t immune, no matter how badly you tried to stay out of the conflict. Between Harry and the DA and Umbridge and Voldy, there’s been precious little time to focus on the things you actually love — and by god, how you love Quidditch.

It’s been five years since you joined the team, and you still get butterflies every time you step out onto the pitch. Growing up among Muggles obviously hadn’t given you much opportunity to familiarize yourself with broom riding, but you’d fallen head over heels for it the moment you walked into your first flying class. It was the only subject you’d never struggled in, simply because it came so naturally to you. Hooch singled you out as a potential player as soon as she saw you take to the sky. The majority of your first year was spent cooped up in the library reading about rules and regulations, famous players, and even the origins of the sport. You were obsessed with the idea of being on the team. Naturally, when you were accepted second year, you were overjoyed.

It was your enthusiasm for the game that got Hobi and Yoongi involved. They’d spent so much time listening to you rant about it that they finally caved in and decided to try out third year — and funnily enough, discovered that they had quite the knack for it as well. None of you were particularly sporty, but you excelled where Quidditch was concerned. You and Hobi were Slytherin’s star Beaters, quicker than lightning when it came to keeping the Bludgers off of your team (and knocking them towards the rival players). Yoongi fit quite nicely into the Seeker position, what with his lithe frame and keen eyes. The three of you were the most skilled players on the team by the time fifth year rolled around; perhaps you’re a bit biased, but you’d wager that you’re the best in the entire school.

Being promoted to captain came as a bit of a shock, but you like to think you’ve done rather well in the time since you were given the position. Your teammates have never performed better, and though you’re all absolutely exhausted when practice ends, you know that you stand one hell of a chance of winning the cup this year. As much as they like to tease you, Hobi and Yoongi have attributed their improvement to you over and over again, citing your patience and determination as the driving force behind the entire team. You’ll never admit it, but their praise is perhaps the only thing that has kept you sane since the promotion.

Well...perhaps not the only thing.

You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from combing the stands for Taehyung as you made your way to the locker room. As much as you’ve tried to brush off your excitement, you can’t help but grin at the thought of him watching you play. Something about that boy — and you’re no closer to figuring it out now than you were the day you met him — gets you flustered like no one else in the world. Fortunately, you’re quite certain you have the same effect on him.

You haven’t spoken a word of this to your friends, of course; they’ve done a good enough job of teasing you on their own without adding fuel to the fire. They have the best of intentions (you think), but not a day has gone by since you met Taehyung wherein they haven’t taunted you mercilessly over the blue-haired boy. It’s the first time your love life has ever been a topic of conversation among your group, and while you used to hate that no one had ever seriously caught your interest, you’re suddenly grateful that you never had to put up with this before. One more smirk from Hobi and you’re quite certain you’re going to punch him in the jaw.

It seems a bit hypocritical of him to tease you about your “boyfriend” when you still know next to nothing about his own. All he’s told you is the basics, insignificant details that could apply to about three hundred guys in your year: brown hair, brown eyes, bright smile, glasses. You have your suspicions, of course — you’re nothing if not perceptive — but without any confirmation from him, you’re left to fumble in the dark trying to connect the dots. For all your complaining, though, you understand why he’s kept it under wraps. Anyone caught fraternizing with a Slytherin right now is just asking for trouble; he doesn’t want his lover anywhere near the whole situation, and you suppose you can understand that.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from taunting him when he strolls over and leans against the locker at your side.

“Is your secret boyfriend gonna make an appearance today?”

Your words have him narrowing his eyes. He doesn’t mean it, of course, but if you were anyone else, you might have cowered under his gaze. Hobi can embody Slytherin intimidation when he needs to, particularly where you and the boys are concerned. Most students would freeze in place if he looked at them the way he’s looking at you now. All you can do is chuckle.

“He might,” he relents with a barely-suppressed smile. Your own lips quirk upward when you notice the small glimmer of happiness in his irises. “What about yours? Can we expect a blue-haired supporter on the Hufflepuff side of the pitch?”

You scoff and shove him away from you with a sneer. He cackles maniacally, already having far too much fun at your expense. It’s not the first time he’s taken pleasure in your anger, though you know he would sooner dive to the bottom of the Black Lake than risk actually upsetting you. The man’s quite literally risked his life for you before; you sincerely doubt he would go out of his way to genuinely hurt you. Still, he seems to have a great deal of fun at your expense. You’d be offended if you didn’t do the exact same thing to him.

“If you must know, yes,” you tell him. “I...I asked him to come watch.”

His eyes widen at that. You just know he’s got some kind of sarcastic comment rising in the back of his throat, but you raise your hand to silence him before he can even get a word out. The last thing you need right now is to worry about Taehyung (even if he’s come to occupy your thoughts more and more the past few days). You can deal with your best friend’s taunts most days, but not now, when you’ve got a game to win in a few minutes.

He sighs and raises his hands in surrender, though it’s not hard to guess what’s going through that oversized head of his. It seems that you and Taehyung are all he talks about these days. You don’t know what his fascination is, but you sincerely hope he finds a new topic of conversation soon. You might hex him if he doesn’t.

Before he can speak again, you cup your mouth with your hands and call out to the rest of the locker room occupants. “Alright, people! Gather up!”

Your teammates cease their playful shoving and turn their attention to you. The seven of you migrate to the center of the room with ease, just as you’ve done a thousand times before. Light laughter echoes off the walls as you huddle up and toss your arms around each other, Hobi to your left and Yoongi to your right. Slytherins try to avoid sentimentalism when they can help it — you typically have far more important things to worry about — but there are some traditions even you pay homage to. You suspect the other houses would be shocked to learn that you take the time to psych each other up before each game. They’ve never been particularly open-minded when it comes to you.

“Okay,” you begin in the most sincere voice you can muster, “this is it. The past year has been nothing but chaos and despair, but we’re finally back. The Hufflepuffs probably think we’ve gone rusty. Are you gonna prove them right?”

The whole team calls out in unison, brows furrowed in concentration. “No!”

“Are you gonna let them beat us?”

“No!”

“Hell no. We’ve been waiting for this day since the end of fifth year. You guys have put your hearts and souls into this team, and I’ll be damned if I let us lose after all the work we’ve done. It doesn’t matter if the whole school’s rooting against us. You guys have yourselves, you have each other, and you have me. Forget about the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, even the Hufflepuffs. We’re Slytherins, and we don’t lose. On three.”

The lot of you outstretch your hands, grinning like idiots when they land on top of each other in the middle of the circle. Your smile is the largest of them all. You can’t deny how much you’ve missed this, the overwhelming sense of camaraderie among your fellow players. It isn’t often that you allow yourself to dedicate yourself so entirely to something (aside from your pranks, of course), but when you’re in, you’re all in. You and Yoongi playfully bump each other’s shoulders when your hands meet. You start the countdown with a smirk.

“One, two, three!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

The horn sounds as soon as the chant ends, signaling the beginning of the match. You and your teammates grab your brooms and make for the pitch entrance, practically bouncing with excitement. Hobi and Yoongi flank you on either side. You don’t need to look at them to know that they’re smiling just as widely as you. The three of you (and Jungkook) had spent most of the summer practicing in Yoongi’s backyard, but to be here now, preparing to step out onto the field and play your last first match ever, is almost surreal. You’ll never say it out loud, but you’re glad to have them by your side.

The team steps out onto the field together, grinning ear to ear despite the cacophony of boos you’re met with. Three of the four houses are jeering and shouting at you, though this is not at all unusual. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are being a bit more subtle about it, but Gryffindor has spared no expense in taunting you. Even from here you can see their homemade signs, most of which bear crude drawings of badgers eating snakes and other unpleasant depictions of your house symbol. You suspect that McGonagall attempted to confiscate them before the game began, but even she isn’t vigilant enough to stop them all. Honestly, they would have found a way to taunt you no matter what.

The majority of the positive feedback comes from the Slytherin section, where your housemates are clapping and cheering as loud as they can to try and drown out the noise. It’s nothing compared to the shouts from the other sections, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless. You aren’t particularly close with most of your fellow Slytherins, but you smile and wave to them anyway, eager to prove that their faith is not misplaced. Oliver waves at you from the top row, lazily wiggling his green flag. You chuckle as you wave back.

Your support from the other houses is minimal, but it certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. Jungkook is among your loudest fans, shouting at the top of his lungs and blowing obnoxiously into his horn as soon as his eyes land on you. He’s decked out in green from head to toe, even going so far as to wear the emerald beret you bought for him during your trip to Paris the previous summer. The man’s even painted his face green and silver, much to the chagrin of his housemates, who stare at him as if he’s grown another head. You’d expect nothing less from him; for all his playful jabs, he’s always been your most vocal supporter.

Ginny sits not too far from him, eagerly waving at you with a green foam finger. You haven’t the slightest clue where she got it — Hogwarts doesn’t even sell foam fingers — but you have a sneaking suspicion that her father’s got something to do with it. Her smile is so wide you’re sure her face is going to crack, but she doesn’t seem to care. The sight of her fiery red hair standing out amidst the crowd makes you think of Fred and George, and your smile falters for a brief moment. It’s the first time you’ve played without them cheering you on, jumping up and down and shouting until their lungs gave out. Truth be told, you’re still a bit torn up over Fred’s loss. You try your best not to think about it.

Of course, your newest supporter sticks out among the rest. In the very front row of the Hufflepuff section is Taehyung, waving eagerly at you with the brightest of smiles. His vibrant hair makes him rather easy to spot, but that’s not what has you letting out a delirious chuckle when your eyes finally land on him. Despite your assurance that it was no problem for him to cheer for his own house, he’s sporting a dark green shirt and waving a Slytherin flag above his head. The sight of him in your house colors has you grinning like an absolute fool, even as Hobi suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. That boy just continues to surprise you.

It takes you a moment to realize that he hasn’t come alone. A rather excitable boy waves at you from his side, bundled up in a Ravenclaw scarf even though his team isn’t playing and it’s well over eighty degrees outside. Another Hufflepuff stands behind Taehyung, shooting you a smile so bright that you’re quite certain you might melt if you stare at it for too long. Kim Namjoon sits a few feet away from them, nose buried in a book as he goes out of his way to avoid your gaze. You’d expect nothing less from him, and honestly, you’re glad you don’t have to deal with his judgemental stare. The last thing you need right now is to concern yourself with him.

With one last wave to Taehyung, you tighten your grip on your broom and make your way to the center of the pitch. Madam Hooch is already there, as is the Hufflepuff captain, who offers you a polite smile. You know remarkably little about Hannah Abbott, save for the fact that she took over after Cedric Diggory’s untimely demise a few years ago. She’s been nice enough the few times you’ve spoken to her, though always a bit reserved, as if purposefully distancing herself from you. You don’t blame her in the slightest; your reputation has a way of putting people off.

“Alright, ladies,” Hooch calls. “It’s time. Shake hands, and we’ll begin the match.”

Hannah is the first to outstretch her hand. The players behind her look at you almost fearfully, as if they expect you to reach out and bite it off. Fortunately for them, you do no such thing. Your palm presses easily against Hannah’s, and to your surprise, she doesn’t flinch away. The two of you shake hands and smile politely, all too aware of the eager eyes watching your every move. You almost feel bad for her. Not everyone is as accustomed to being stared at as you.

With one last nod to your rival, you take a few steps back and mount your broom. Your players follow suit, each grinning ear to ear in anticipation. The stadium goes silent as your team and the Hufflepuffs stare at one another. You can feel the goosebumps crawling along your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’ve missed this feeling more than words can describe. No matter how chaotic and complicated your life might be, you can always count on the sheer exhilaration of the game to perk you up. For the first time all year, you don’t feel as if you’re just gliding through your life. You’re here, you’re alive, and you couldn’t be more excited if you tried.

The sound of Hooch’s whistle is the last thing you hear before you take to the sky.

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

“And in it goes! That’s another ten points for Slytherin, putting the score at 130 to 90!”

You’re fairly certain that the smirk is simply stuck to your face at this point. It’s only been twenty minutes since the match began, and already you can taste your impending victory. The Hufflepuffs have been giving you a good fight, posing a far more difficult challenge than expected, but they’re no match for the well-oiled machine that is your team.

Benjamin, your Keeper, has been running himself ragged defending the Slytherin goal posts. For every shot they make, he fends off three more. That they’ve managed to make it to ninety points is an impressive feat, even if they’re still coming in second place. He’s blocking shots that you would have considered sure things, and never once does he waver, even when the Hufflepuff fans start shouting obscenities at him. You’ve spent the past month whacking Bludgers towards the hoops to help him train, and it seems as though your work has paid off.

Your Chasers — Emilia, Anthony, and Leo — have been at the top of their game since the match began. They’re speeding through the air so fast that you can barely keep up with them, let alone the opposing team. Emilia and Leo are acting as support for Anthony, who has singlehandedly landed 100 of your 130 points. As soon as the Quaffle lands in his grasp, he’s gone, little more than an emerald blur as he takes off towards the posts. Emilia and Leo flank him on either side, occasionally tossing the ball back and forth between them to confuse the Hufflepuff Chasers. They are a team in their own right.

You and Hobi have, as usual, spent the entirety of the game trying to knock the Chasers off course. The pair of you have made them drop the Quaffle so many times you’re beginning to lose count. Your aim is so precise that the Bludgers find their mark each time, much to Hannah’s chagrin. Hobi is the calmer of the two of you, more interested in blocking shots than actually trying to hit anyone. You, however, are relentless. You have no interest in hurting anyone, especially not the Hufflepuffs, but you’ve gotten your fair share of near-misses. One particularly strong whack of your bat nearly took off Arabella Matthews’ head at the beginning of the game. Were you anyone else, you wouldn’t dare risk hitting a Bludger so close to someone; but you’re you, and you know that you’re skilled enough to keep the other players out of harm’s way.

And Yoongi — Yoongi is about to catch the Snitch.

You’re so focused on the Chasers speeding past you that it takes you a moment to notice it, but notice it you do. He’s been staying out of the action the entire time, opting to circle around the field in search of your golden ticket to victory. Aside from warning you of an incoming Bludger at one point, you haven’t given each other a spare glance since the game started. Now, though, as he takes off in a nosedive towards the ever-elusive ball, you can’t take your eyes off of him. Both you and Hobi cheer for him as he follows it towards the Ravenclaw stands, and even from across the field you can hear Jungkook shouting words of encouragement.

“You’ve got this Yoongi!” Your words are frantic, rushed, tumbling out of your mouth before you can even process them. You pay them no mind. Even the Bludgers have been forgotten. All you can do is watch Yoongi follow the Snitch, mere feet away from him. Your heart is beating with such ferocity that you can feel it slamming against your ribs, but you truly don’t care. The sun in your eyes, the chanting of the crowd, Hobi’s elated presence at your side — it all fades away. The only thing you care about is your friend.

The Hufflepuff Seeker has yet to notice his opponent’s disappearance in the sky, which only makes your grin widen. His housemates are screaming at him, gesturing frantically towards Yoongi and urging him to follow, but it’s too late. The entire arena watches with bated breath as Yoongi leans forward on his broom, thrusts his arm forward as far as it will go, stretches his fingers to the brink of snapping, grits his teeth, and —

“AND THAT’S IT! MIN YOONGI HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS!”

You and Hobi scream and throw your arms up victoriously, smiling like idiots all the while. You’re drenched in sweat and fairly certain your arms are about to fall off out of sheer exhaustion, but you couldn’t care less. A familiar warmth swells in your chest as you watch the Slytherins erupt in applause, a sensation you haven’t felt since you were fifteen years old. It only grows more intense when your eyes land on Jungkook, who is jumping up and down while he shouts Yoongi’s name. When you see Taehyung, though, you’re fairly certain you’re going to melt from the inside out — because he’s smiling up at you with the most adoring expression you’ve ever seen on another human being, and it makes you go weak in the knees.

Your teammates hurry to the ground, eager to embrace Yoongi and congratulate him for the victory, but you don’t follow. You’re proud of Yoongi, make no mistake — he’s come a long way from the scrawny little boy you met on the common room couch in first year — but you have other things to attend to. You swear your broom moves of it’s own accord as you speed towards the stands. Hobi is giving you an odd look from the corner of his eye, one you pointedly ignore. You have no time for his questions right now.

Jungkook is racing towards you the moment your feet hit the stands, but for once, he’s not the one you’re there for. He’s confused, that much you’re sure of, because he knows that you know he’s sitting with the Gryffindors, but you’ve landed in the Hufflepuff section. Part of you feels guilty for not immediately running to meet up with him, but you brush it off. You know he’ll forgive you for momentarily moving him to the back burner, especially when he sees what you’re about to do.

It’s a bad idea, and you know that. But when you finally meet Taehyung’s glimmering eyes, you know there’s no point in trying to stop yourself. He opens his mouth to congratulate you, to tell you how amazing you were out there, but you don’t give him the chance. Before he can even get the first syllable out, you’ve thrown your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into the most bone-crushing hug you’ve given in years.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden display of affection. It’s caught you off guard too, to be honest — of all the things you’re known for around here, tenderness is not one of them. You don’t even hug your friends that often, and you’ve known them since you had braces. It hasn’t even been two months since you met Taehyung, and yet here you are, arms wrapped firmly around his back with your head resting atop his shoulder. It’s stupid, and you know it’s stupid, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself even if you wanted to...which, to be honest, you didn’t. You try not to think about what that might mean.

Mercifully, he returns the gesture when the shock wears off. He wraps his arms gently around your waist, hesitantly, as if he’s expecting you to come to your senses and pull away at any second. It isn’t until a few moments have passed that he actually tightens his grip, though it still doesn’t rival the hold you’ve got on him. You’re hugging him so tightly you’re shocked he can still breathe properly. He doesn’t seem to mind. Rather than push you away or question this rather abrupt attempt at kindness, he simply pulls you close and rocks you back and forth. You make no move to leave his grip.

You’re fully aware of how odd this is. The two of you only cemented your friendship a couple weeks ago, and you’ve certainly never done anything quite this affectionate before. You’ve playfully pushed his shoulder, sure, and he smiles at you every time you look at him, but neither of you have ever made a move to hug one another. It makes absolutely no sense for you to spring this on him; but dear god, the urge to throw yourself at him was so overwhelming it actually caught you off guard. Of all the post-game activities you’ve taken part in over the years — swimming in the lake, sneaking out to the Three Broomsticks with your teammates, downing an entire bottle of firewhiskey in one sitting — you’ve never done anything quite as bizarre as this.

But as he rests his head on your shoulder blade, you realize that you don’t regret it one bit.

The two of you don’t pull away until someone clears their throat behind you. It’s so loud and intrusive that you don’t even need to look to know who it is, though you turn on your heel nonetheless. Sure enough, Hobi is standing right there, arms folded and an insufferably smug grin on his face. Yoongi and Jungkook flank him on either side, looking at you with such teasing smirks that you have to restrain yourself from smacking them. None of them seem at all fazed by the death glare you shoot them.

“Well, who do we have here?” Hobi inquires with a playful lilt in his voice. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second, silently taunting you, and you’ve never wanted to punch someone more in your entire life. He knows this, you’re sure, which only makes his grin grow wider as he looks at Taehyung. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. Introduce us to your...friend.”

If Taehyung wasn’t standing right next to you, you would push Hobi over the edge of the stands without a second thought. As it is, you simply grit your teeth and gesture towards your blue-haired companion, silently hoping that your friends don’t scare him away. “Guys, this is Taehyung. Tae, these are my friends: Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook.”

The boys wave at him as you call out their names, each with a sickeningly smug grin. Whether Taehyung doesn’t recognize the satisfaction written across their faces or simply elects to ignore it, you don’t know, but he offers them a kind wave and a bright smile nonetheless.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

Hobi’s smirk only grows. “Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing.”

You’re only a second away from turning your best friend into a toad when another familiar (and exceedingly annoying) voice calls out to you.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you. Behaving yourself, I hope?”

It’s your turn to smirk now, entirely too pleased with yourself as you turn on your heel to greet Namjoon. Taehyung’s other friends are behind him, each grinning and waving at you in greeting. The head boy, however, does no such thing. The smile he flashes at you is painfully fake, so much so that you wonder why he bothers wearing it at all. The unfamiliar Ravenclaw boy behind him elbows his side, and he coughs to conceal his groan of pain. Whoever this guy is, you just know you’re going to like him.

“Aw, you know me, Namjoon. I’m always on my best behavior.” He doesn’t buy your words for a second, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Who are your friends?”

He moves to introduce them, but the Ravenclaw boy shoves him out of the way and outstretches his hand towards you. You shake it with a quick laugh. “Park Jimin, at your service,” he introduces almost valiantly. “You must be this Y/N I’ve heard so much about.”

“Guilty.”

Namjoon sighs and gestures towards their Hufflepuff companion, who you could have sworn you caught staring at Hobi for a moment. “This is Kim Seokjin. Jin, this is — .”

“Y/N!” The boy offers you the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen as he surges forward to shake your hand. It actually takes you a moment to collect yourself, entirely caught off guard by the wildly positive energy this guy is radiating. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Taehyung talks about you all the time.”

His comment has your brows flying towards your hairline. A quick glance at Taehyung shows him frantically shaking his head, silently urging Jin to shut up, but it’s too late; you’re already smiling at him. His cheeks darken under your gaze, and you can’t stop yourself from chuckling. It’s nice to know that you make him as nervous as he makes you, if only because it means that you aren’t imagining things. It’s flattering, having someone like him think so highly of you. You only hope he hasn’t talked you up too much; you’d hate to disappoint him.

It’s abundantly clear that Hobi’s about to say something embarrassing when he laughs beneath his breath and opens his mouth again, but you don’t even let him get the first syllable out. Your hand claps over his mouth with such force that you might as well have slapped him. On any other day, you would have felt bad for using such force; now, you kind of wish you’d hit him harder. Rather than let him fight you off and tell Taehyung something else he doesn’t need to know, you push him back and call out to Tae over your shoulder.

“Well, it’s been nice talking you to Tae, but we should probably be getting back to the locker room now! Bye!”

It takes only a second for you to realize that you’ve got another traitor in your midst.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook shouts with an evil grin, “don’t tell me you aren’t gonna invite them to the after party!”

I need new friends.

You chuckle and awkwardly rub the back of your head, purposefully avoiding Taehyung’s eyes as you speak. “Right! Right, uh, the after party. Um, it’s in the common room tonight. Nine o’clock. You’re all more than welcome! Er, if you wanna come, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

Taehyung smiles and nods, but says nothing else. You suspect he wants to talk it over with his friends, which is more than fine with you, since it gives you more time to escape. You’re almost certain he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance. Without so much as a second glance, you grab Jungkook and Hobi by their ears and drag them off towards the locker room, offering only a small wave to Tae.

The boys wince and try to push you away, but your grip is iron-clad. Yoongi can’t stop himself from laughing when you crouch down and whisper in their ears.

“I’m gonna kill you both.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: TAEYN ARE SO ADORABLE I CANNOT STAND THESE PEOPLE. I hope you’re all as infuriated by this slow-burn as I am. Next update coming tomorrow! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist💕 — Rynn

tag list: @wannabestark @deepseavibez @taeshuworld @lele-bb @hxseok-honee @burningupp-replies @livorna @lovelytaes-blog @theclawofaraven

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Note

dearest comfy <3 what if Triss was a blacksmith AND Eskel was a blacksmith??? What then?? Enemies to lovers maybe? <3

Ellie. I love you. I love this prompt. And I love Trisskel. This is a triple threat of wonderfulness. Hopefully the fic delivers 💖💖

Warnings: no violence, some hostile Triss (mostly internal), lmao is this considered idiot and exasperated to lovers? idk you tell me, its pretty chill tbh, unless you don’t like daggers. there's lots of daggers.

_____________________

Triss was furious.

She had spent her whole life stoking a furnace, shadowing her father, sweating, suffering burn after burn and later cut after searing cut as she learned to forge all sorts of weaponry. Now, this teddy bear-shaped child was setting up shop in her courtyard?! Unacceptable. Unbelievable! She’d staked a claim on her territory for market day early. So early she hadn’t even made her first blade. Her father still had her hammering out decorative discs and fastenings for armor.

One of her customers had the audacity to call him ‘cute’ to her face.

He was no more than twenty-five, tall and stocky like most people expected of a blacksmith, but they claimed there was a softness about him. Triss remembered that softness well, before loss and responsibility really set in. What others saw as sweet, boyish charm she saw as a weakness.

She sent her assistant to assess his booth, maybe flirt and ask some questions, and was even more annoyed when they came back.

“He’s young but he’s not inexperienced. His blades are good. So is his uh… customer service.”

Triss rolled her eyes, “What kind of weapons was he selling? I don’t care about his looks. I have breasts.”

Her assistant shrugged and described his table.

That following week she put in double the hours at her workshop, put the extra flourish on every piece, perfected every detail until her arms ached and her head pounded. She often forgot to drink water, let alone eat, when she got worked up, so her assistant brought her meals.

When the next market day came, she proudly displayed her new wares.

And if she took her hair out of the usual braids and unbuttoned her blouse a bit lower than last week, who would be brave enough to point it out?

This time the newcomer had the gaul to visit her booth.

“Good morning, Miss Merigold,” he dipped in a bow of respect before she even turned around to greet him, straightening up and disarming her with a lopsided grin, “My apologies, I meant to introduce myself after last week’s market. But you were far more efficient at break-down than I.”

She wouldn’t have called him cute by a long shot. He was downright handsome.

Then she remembered they were rivals. There would be no fraternizing with the enemy.

It took her a moment to gather her wits before she responded, “Good morning. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

She knew.

Of course she knew. But he was far better looking than she had assumed, his scars only adding to his alluring presence, and she needed to feel like she had the upper hand.

His smile grew a bit sheepish, “Eskel of the Blue Mountains. I’m your new neighbor… sort of,” he offered his hand over her table and she took it, hoping her hesitation wasn’t too obvious.

“Welcome. I hope the city is treating you well?”

“Well enough,” he acquiesced, letting go of her hand after a moment, “To be truthful, I haven’t left my forge much at all. I’m still getting used to her. But you know how that goes.”

Triss raised her eyebrows and plastered an over-polite smile on her face, “I must say I wouldn’t. I inherited my forge from my father. I learned with her. We get along quite well.”

Eskel was called by someone from his booth as he made to speak. He waved at them to wait a moment and turned back to Triss with a wink, “Well if you have any relationship advice, let me know.”

Before she could think of a polite but not too friendly response, he was gone.

She turned back to her assistant in a huff, “He’s infuriating.”

“He’s dreamy.”

“Hush,” she snapped, pointing to her sketch pad, “Hand me that. Call for me if there’s a large sale or a problem.”

She sketched and planned half the day away. But when she realized how much the materials for her plans would cost she adjusted her cleavage and left her tent. Someone had to drive the hard bargain around here, and she knew her assistant was too kind.

The next week she arrived with a beautiful set of delicate-looking throwing knives, a few different ornate daggers, and a sword fit for a king alongside her typical, practical items. However, she was seeing more than just her flowing hilt designs inlaid with etchings.

Eskel seemed to have had a similar idea.

She wandered past his booth, pretending to buy fabric from the stall next to him, and fumed. It seemed Eskel had a sharper eye than she’d anticipated. He very clearly mimicked her setup and emphasized the smaller wares like she did. He even had the same sign in three different languages about customizations and bulk orders.

This had become all out war.

When her sword sold that day she decided to finish off the dozen or so she had laying in wait for specific orders over the week. She even detailed a breastplate to match for three of them, guessing at the size in reference to the sword as best she could. As she worked she mulled over her new competition. His soft golden eyes that crinkled ever so slightly when he smiled were absolutely aggravating. At least that’s what she told herself. It was simply her competitive nature that had her fixating on this mountain of a man.

She returned the next week with a spread so large she could barely fit it on her table.

Eskel had come back with daggers inlaid with precious stones of dazzling pale blue and sparkling greys and whites. Blue Mountains indeed.

Polite customers started mumbling comparisons to themselves while the brash ones outwardly used the other stall to barter a better price. Every time Eskel was mentioned Triss would bristle, hold back a snarl, and turn on every bit of innocent charm she had.

She began leaving with a lighter cart and a challenging wink from her competition. Over the week she worked her fingers to the bone over fine details and getting the balance absolutely perfect.

After months of competition, months of uncomfortable eye contact, she finally broke when he sold a matching helmet, breastplate, and dagger to one of her most loyal customers.

“Eskel. We need to have a word,” she marched right up to his tent, hands tucked into her half apron at her waist.

He smirked, “That all?”

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “We can’t keep making the same things.”

“Pretty daggers and ceremonial armor? Why not?” he mimicked her, folding his massive arms over his own chest, leaning back against his table, making him just a little bit taller than Triss rather than the usual towering over her.

She rolled her eyes and stepped a little closer, “We’ve both done well, or I’m assuming you have, but eventually all the nobility this side of the canal will have been sold to. We’ll have saturated the market and be left with an armory full of ornate weaponry with no one to buy it.”

“Preserving the market means one gets to keep said market.”

Triss nodded but Eskel seemed unimpressed.

“And how would you suggest we settle who keeps it?” he raised an eyebrow at her and she just wanted to smack the smug look off his face. Or kiss it. She really wasn’t sure anymore.

She scrambled for a moment, not having entirely thought this through, “A competition.”

He stood to full height and sighed, “What are the terms?”

“One dagger. Same price. Whoever sells first gets the market. The other has to branch out or move.”

Eskel nodded and held his hand out, “Agreed.”

Triss went to take his hand but he gripped her forearm, his whole hand covering much of her elbow. She did her best not to think about how strong his arm felt in her grasp, how when she squeezed she felt a gentle give before she hit muscle.

He winked at her as he released his grasp and turned back to work, “See you next week Merigold.”

Triss worked on a single dagger all week.

She couldn’t get Eskel’s stupid cocky smile or his tanned arms out of her head. The way he looked down at her with that condescending smile enraged her. Her assistant claimed he looked more fond than condescending, but Triss only narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She’d been raised in the marketplace. She knew exactly how men viewed her.

In the end, her dagger looked very fitting for a man like him. Broad, sturdy, a bit curved at the tip, and simply yet elegantly decorated. She cooled it in a liquid mixture her father had made and kept secret, giving the blade a finish similar to copper, but with all the strength of steel.

If she noticed the coincidence she stubbornly ignored it.

Eskel was already set up and waiting when she arrived at the market. She spared him only a curt nod while she set up her booth as if preparing for battle.

He sauntered over to her before dawn had officially broken, blade in hand with what Triss might guess to be a nervous expression.

“Good morning, Merigold,” he cleared his throat and set the dagger currently wrapped in cloth on the table between them, “What have you for our little competition?”

Triss proudly pulled the dagger she had made from her case, handing it over by the hilt as she spoke, “Good morning, Eskel.”

He took the blade and hummed as he inspected it, whispering, “It’s beautiful...”

She wasn’t prepared for such a genuine compliment. Nor was she prepared for how much she loved hearing that word fall from his lips.

“Th-thank you.”

Eskel handed it back before unwrapping his.

Triss almost had to catch her breath. It was gorgeous, gracefully curved, a turquoise stone grip bordered by an ornate handguard. The part that really got her though was the engraving on the blade. She stepped out and around the table to catch more of the sunlight to see what it was and gasped. Little jasmine flowers were etched into the flat of the blade.

She looked up at him in awe, “Why jasmine?”

He gave her a crooked smile, rubbing the back of his neck, “You, ahm- your perfume. It is jasmine right?”

She tilted her head and really looked at him since the first time she met him, “You noticed my perfume?”

“It’s nice,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his leather apron pockets.

Triss thought about all the winks and the ‘good mornings’ and compliments. She’d thought they were just to get her buttered up, but maybe she’d been a little harsher than she needed to.

“It’s stunning,” she breathed, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, not wanting to pull away from his warmth when she had to.

They were interrupted by her assistant and set a price quickly before scurrying back to their tents.

All day they would glance toward the other’s booth, but Triss was no longer checking his table. She was looking for him. His kind smile and boisterous laugh. His easy charm and especially his humility under pressure.

All day she struggled with the realization that she was just a little bit in love with her competition.

Nearing sundown she told her assistant to begin cleaning up and grabbed her coin purse before marching over to his stand once again.

“Did you sell it?” Eskel looked disappointed and she was surprised to be glad to tell him no.

“I have two things to say and I will only say them once, so listen carefully. I realize I’ve been unduly cold to you and I want to apologize. You’ve proven that you’re not only a skilled craftsman but seem to be a good man as well and you don’t deserve it. “

“Apology accepted,” Eskel grinned, leaning back on his table as he waited for her next item.

“Thank you. Now, I’d like to buy the dagger. The one with the jasmines.”

Eskel frowned, “You- you’re forfeiting?”

Triss bit her lip and forced herself to look him in his honey gold eyes, “Yes. Though I hope we can both agree to stay where we are? I think I might miss you if you leave.”

He grinned and pushed off the table, standing just inches from Triss now that he was upright. His hand hesitantly brushed a stray curl out of her eyes as he leaned closer, hesitating to give her time to leave if she wanted, before he brushed his lips against hers. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed. His hands covered her back, pressing her to him and nearly lifting her off her feet.

When they parted they were gasping for breath they both wished they didn't need.

“What about a trade and a truce?”

Triss nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to plant another kiss on his lips, “And dinner.”

Eskel chuckled, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

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lisinfleur · 3 years

Text

MOTHERFUCKER

The request:

Author’s Notes | When I first wrote "Hey Daddy" for you, I remember I did the best I could to create the sweetest environment and the cutest scenes with Hvitserk and the child of that fiction, trying as much as I could to avoid the Reader showing any kind of love involvement with Hvitserk exactly because I wanted that to be a paternal/parental fiction as you asked me to. I even included a love relationship for him with Thora, a child to come, a great friendship... I wanted to portray the most familiar scene I could.

And I did it all because I remember I felt your sadness with his deployment. I felt the weight of your heart and I wanted with all my soul to soothe your pain.

Then he comes and ruins it. Then he comes and steps over it.

I feel like someone who cared so much for a flower just to see a bastard running over it with a car. And this fiction is the reflection of what I wanted to do with your bastard of a husband for what he did to my precious flower.

However, even crushed, it is still my flower. Even hurt, it is still my flower. And I know it's strong enough to grow back. I know you are strong enough to surpass this, love. I know, with the time and the right amount of care and love, you will bloom again. I believe in you, my sweet sweetheart. And I'll be here whenever you need, for anything I can.

I love you with all my heart. And I'll be praying to the gods to make you happy and avoiding myself from praying Thor to smite him dead!

Special thanks to @honestsycrets for helping me with the editing (and having my back during a breakdown over my English skills. You’re my everything, babe!)

Universe |Vikings

Pairing | Sigurd x Reader (implicit)

Info |Viking Age AU, requested by anon

Words | 4471

⁑ Warnings: This is part two of the fiction "Hey Daddy". If you liked the environment of the last part, I strongly suggest you stop there. This fiction will ruin the beautiful picture its previous part built AS FUCK, but reality sucks sometimes. And I'm glad we have fiction as a safe space to give some motherfuckers what they deserve (without going to jail for it).

ANGST, Betrayal, Cheating Husband, cursing, tw: homophobic/offensive slang use, mentions to violence, blood, and wounds. Caution is required: the following content may be triggering!

"Hey, dada! Lovu!"

When did everything turn that way?

A few months ago, Hvitserk was in your yard, your little girl beside him, both waving at your husband on Hvitserk's cell phone. Now, the sudden distance between the two of you completely ruined his plans of seeing your children growing together.

He never thought you would break apart from him like that, but the safety about the strength of your friendship simply vanished since your husband came home. Buying a house beside yours now sounded like a silly idea...

First, it was completely acceptable in his mind: you spent a lot of time away from your husband. It was evident that the two of you would want some privacy to share the moments you didn't have. Also, your husband would wish to properly know and try to approach his little girl. It was not his place to come and teach everything about your daughter to your husband, and Hvitserk knew that.

But the distance remained... And it was starting to bother him.

When his boy came into this world, you were there, but you were strange. Even your smiles weren't the same! You were happy for him, but it was easy to see you were hiding something Hvitserk couldn't avoid noticing under your mask of a tired mother.

"I just came to visit. I'm fine, Hvitserk! Don't worry! You know: just the terrible two..."

Hvitserk didn't buy that bullshit.

After months without a single manifestation of yours, Hvitserk started thinking your husband could've fallen for the rumors spread about the two of you. So, he decided to go to your house; but not to speak to you.

"Hvitserk?"

You opened just a breach of your door, for his major surprise: you'd never left him outside of your house before.

"Y/N? Are you ok?"

"Yes, yes I'm... I'm ok... What do you need?"

There it was... The distance. The fake smiles. You were skinnier, eyes marked by the lack of sleep. That wasn't the work of a toddler. Hvitserk could see you were hiding something, but he tried to keep the masks for you.

"Y/H/N is home?" he asked, smiling at you.

"I... I'll call him," you trembled when the voice of your daughter sounded out loud in a scream of visible annoyance.

It didn't take too long for your husband to come, seeming to be as annoyed as the little girl clearly screaming "OUT" out loud inside the door he closed behind his back, giggling at Hvitserk.

"Hey bro... Children, uh? Get yourself prepared, my man! You're gonna have some troubles at the two."

Hvitserk smiled, shaking his hand, but he didn't let pass that your husband was way better than you.

Way better...

"I was thinking about calling you for a beer, bro. So we could..."

Your husband didn't even let him finish.

"Right now. Fucking please!"

"Won't you warn Y/N?" Hvitserk asked as your husband just checked if his wallet was in his pocket before starting to walk away from the house.

"Pff... Let's go. She'll make good use of some time away from me."

Yeah. Something was terribly wrong. Hvitserk could see it screaming in every detail.

He followed your husband to the bar where they paid two beers for themselves. Hvitserk watched as your husband swallowed his beer like water, asking for another cup to the waitress with a satisfied smile.

"Fuck, bro... I was needing this. War is hella easier than being home with a two years old, uh?"

What-the-fuck-was-that? Hvitserk could barely answer with more than a speechless giggle.

"She used to love you, dada..." he said, remembering your husband of the videos they used to do for him. "What has changed?"

"Every-fucking-thing," your husband answered, tired. "Well, Y/N has her part in this too. I miss those videos, man... I wish we didn't end like this."

End like this?

"Like what?" Hvitserk asked, sipping from his cup.

Trying to understand what was happening.

"Oh, brother, you have no idea of the fucking tsunami that washed that house. Damn, bro... Keep yourself home as much as you can and don't you DARE to think about doing anything for yourself in a whole year out of anything familiar to you, dude, or they come from princesses to bitches in a second! I mean..." your husband started, catching Hvitserk's attention for the fact that he was talking about you.

You.

The sweetest woman in this world!

Your husband was speaking about you like that...

Hvitserk was starting to feel unsettled as your husband continued speaking like a radio forgotten on.

"Ok, we are married, I get it. She waited for me, I get it too, fine, ok. She's a woman, man. With a child to keep her mind occupied. I was a god's damn soldier, bro! In the fucking middle of nowhere! For a whole year, Hvitserk... Fuck, man, we have our needs!"

Hvitserk's fingers got tighter on his cup. The more he was hearing, the more he could understand what happened to you. However, he chose to keep himself silent. His mind was floating in memories from the day when Sigurd tried to make you feel better about your husband's absence. His little brother offered you an innocent hug, and you utterly refused it, almost shoving Sigurd away. It could be an innocent hug in his little brother's eyes, but you knew Sigurd had feelings for you. You didn't want to end up feeding false hopes into his heart. You kept yourself faithful to your marriage vows until the end.

"I found somebody to fuck. What's the matter? I wanted to release my balls, nothing too big. The problem is that I got the bitch knocked and now Y/N is freaking out!" he sighed as if he was the biggest victim of that whole situation.

"Hnn..." Hvitserk hummed just to get him speaking.

One of his hands on his phone texting Sigurd.

"Go to Y/N's house, tell her to pack her things, and take her out of that place. Tell her I sent you there. Call Ivar, tell him to help her with the divorce papers. Y/H/N has been cheating on her and I'm about to smack a bitch, brother..."

Your husband was still talking when Hvitserk started slowly drinking his beer. He wouldn't waste good beer... But in his mind, Sigurd had until that beer was over in his cup to get you out of that place before he could fuck your husband's life.

In the meantime, Sigurd didn't even argue. After that message came, he took his phone and called Ivar immediately.

"What the fuck do you..."

"Call our lawyers, Ivar. And tell them to prepare Y/N's divorce. Hvitserk just told me Y/H/N has been cheating on her and I'm taking her out of that house now."

"He's been what?"

Ivar's voice was never that loud. Sigurd didn't even have to keep holding his phone to hear his little brother's exclamation as he was turning on his car.

"You've heard me, Y/N's is..."

It was Ivar's time to cut him with an answer.

"Moving. And divorced. I'll call you back later."

"Fine," Sigurd answered, driving towards your house.

His knocks on your door mixing with the sound of your daughter crying once again.

"Just a second!" you asked.

But the door was opened minutes later, visibly after you cleaned your face from the tears you thought you could hide from whoever was your visitor.

"Sigurd?"

Hvitserk's brother at your door confused you at the same time it threw your mind into memories.

You should've accepted him. You should've left your husband months ago... Sigurd was such a sweet man! You were sure he would never do such a thing as your husband did. But you just smiled, trying to keep up your fading mask.

"What's happening? How can I..."

"I know everything," he said, directly.

Shattering your disguise in a million pieces with his blues so deep inside your eyes.

"I know what he's done to you, I know you're suffering... Hvitserk sent me here to take you and your daughter away from his reach."

You didn't want to keep playing your husband's game. You were traumatized, scared, sad, hurt, angry... You didn't want your marriage to end like that!

But was it your fault?

How long could you handle your daughter's cries begging you to send him away?

She hated him after learning he had another child. She hated the idea of him having someone else when she knew the two of you were waiting for him. She was little, but she understood what her father had done. Even a toddler knew it was wrong!

It broke your heart when Sigurd extended his hand towards you.

"Please, Y/N... Let us help you."

Along with your heart, the dam in your eyes broke down, releasing the cry of despair and disappointment you were never able to put out. Not with your husband forcing you into that play-house game you couldn't handle any longer.

"Take me outta here... Please, Sigurd, take me anywhere... I can't handle this anymore. I can't!" you crumbled, feeling Sigurd's hands embracing you when you finally opened your door for someone else that wasn't your husband.

Upon your shoulders, Sigurd could see how messy your life was: your house was a jumble of beer cans, male shoes, childish toys everywhere... Your sink was full - something he knew you utterly hated! Your daughter was sitting alone in the living room, still sobbing while watching the cartoons you always said you would never use for moments of peace to yourself.

Your dream was shattered inside that house, and you were living a nightmare.

"Make it stop... Please make it stop..." You begged, feeling Sigurd’s embrace becoming slightly tighter.

"It's over now, love. We'll take you out of this place with your child. Ivar will help you to get rid of his name and we'll set you free."

Not a single mention to his long-time wish to take your husband's place inside your heart. Not a single sign of the feelings you knew Sigurd had silenced into his heart when you chose Y/H/N.

Your heart clenched inside your chest.

"I should've married you," you mumbled, lifting your eyes to feel Sigurd's thumb caressing your face.

"You followed your heart. You did the right thing. He's wrong, Y/N. Don't blame yourself, babe. First, we save you and your child from this nightmare. Then... Then we see. Uh?" he said, tender.

You knew he was respecting your moment. Sigurd knew it wasn't time for his feelings now. He was a good man.

And he was right.

"I'll pack my things," you said.

Sigurd nodded in agreement.

"Don't mind the extra. Take your little doll's toys and clothes, your clothes, and documents. We'll help you with everything, sweetheart." he granted.

Waking your daughter to his presence when his voice echoed louder than the cartoon.

"Uncle Sigs!" she yelled, running to throw herself into his arms.

Sigurd winked at you, silently saying he would distract her so you would have time to pack everything.

You packed what was needed and Sigurd took you and your daughter "for a ride," you said - avoiding scaring the little girl. She was super excited when the two of you left home, but within the trip in his car, she fell asleep in your arms and you allowed yourself to cry silently, lulling your child.

"Don't worry," Sigurd's firm voice said when he stopped the car near the building where you knew he, Ivar, and Ubbe had some apartments. "Everything will be fine."

You nodded, allowing yourself to find some hope in his eyes.

"She's out."

It was everything Hvitserk needed to read on his cell phone for his smile to disappear from his face.

"Got yourself a troubled witch too, brother?"

Your husband was high already. Hvitserk didn't smile at his stupid jokes anymore. He just got up, drinking the rest of his beer and throwing money on the table enough to pay for the whole bill.

"Enjoy it, Y/H/N. That's the last fucking time I'm paying your ass anything."

"What? Whoa... Where the hell did it come from, brother? What..." your husband said, surprised.

Hvitserk's eyes landed on his figure with the weight of years of friendship betrayed by your husband's actions. Y/H/N didn't have cheated on you only. He'd broken Hvitserk's trust and the brotherhood he'd shared with you and your husband for years, and Hvitserk couldn't forget him for doing this.

"Don't call me brother, you motherfucker!" he said, splatting his hands on the table before pointing at your husband with his index. "Men don't have needs, Y/H/N. True men have the responsibility to deal with their dick's dryness and keep themselves faithful to the women they leave home waiting for them! You have two fucking working hands, asshole! There were plenty of things you could have done instead of cheating on the woman I saw waiting for you to come home since you were sent away, cradling your child while crying your absence! I was fucking there, you scoundrel! I saw every battle Y/N had to fight alone! I helped her! I filmed and photographed your daughter, and helped your wife to pay her fucking bills, so she could have an internet connection for you not to be alone! For you not to be away from them! And while I was watching Y/N's struggles with your daughter's sleepless nights, you were there, fucking another, making a second child while I was trying to convince your little girl her father didn't abandon her on purpose!"

Hvitserk was furious! His tone started attracting other angry faces towards your husband. The clearer it was for the people around what was that arguing about, the more ashamed your husband was with all the judgemental eyes on him.

"Fuck, man, stop yelling..." he tried.

His words just made Hvitserk louder...

"Why? Don't you like to boast around your conquers, brother?" he mocked the word for years used to put your husband in a position he clearly wasn't occupying in Hvitserk's life anymore. "Let's boast around about the bastard you are, Y/H/N! Boast around the pussy you fucked, the woman you got knocked out of your marriage while your wife was fucking crying her eyes out because you lost your child's birth! Were you there for the second one, or was it another child you left behind without even looking back, uh? You're a motherfucking asshole! And I'm ashamed of being your friend for so long! I should've kicked your balls and punched your face the first time you got close to our circle to court Y/N!"

"So what?" Your husband finally got up, reacting to Hvitserk's offensive. "So your brother could fuck her in my place, Hvitserk?"

Y/H/N's military posture wasn't enough to prevent Hvitserk from towering upon him with fierce green eyes swallowing your husband's in anger.

"Yes, Y/H/N. So my brother could've loved her, married her, and gave her what she deserves instead of the crumbs you left behind to the woman you lost."

"Well, guess what? Little Sigurd can fuck his hands, cause my wife is mine and I won't give up on her just because of one or two fights!" Y/H/N spat back, arrogant.

Hvitserk just straightened his clothes, sighing and looking back at him with contempt in his eyes.

"Y/N is not an object for you to possess! She's a free woman, and we'll grant her freedom! She's no longer in your house, she won't go back, and I won't tell you where she is now. You'll be receiving the divorce papers soon, and I suggest you sign them peacefully, my man. At this moment, my brother Ivar is reuniting everything necessary to ruin your career, and we'll put everything on your superior's table if you dare to cause Y/N any more problems! With my father's lawyer's best recommendations to kick you out for good! I can ruin your life, Y/H/N, and I will if I see you close to Y/N ever again!"

The floor disappeared under your husband's feet, and he punched the table furiously. The waitress picked up the phone to call the police, but Hvitserk lifted his hand to stop her, calm.

"Don't worry, we're leaving now. And this distinct motherfucker will remember how to behave like a gentleman and leave with me. After all, he doesn't want to get me truly angry. He never saw me truly angry.”

A warning implicit in Hvitserk's words: it was only the beginning of his possibilities to ruin your husband's life.

"Fuck it! You are all insane! She's fucking overreacting, and you're falling for this shit as if you didn't have your head sunk in the middle of dozens of legs around, you asshole! I know you, Hvitserk Ragnarsson! You're a womanizer! You always were! You know exactly how much it hurts to stay without it for too long, and I hope you have the same shitty time away from your pretty wife for you to know what I'm talking about!"

"You said it wrong, Y/H/N. I was like this. I really had my head in the middle of several legs. You're right! But I'm a married man now, and I chose to honor the wife I chose and the children she's bearing for me!That's the difference between us: I can handle one whole year with my dick dry cause I love the woman I have by my side! I'm not an irrational animal that will fuck whatever moves in front of me just because. Grow the fuck up, dude! Stop shaming yourself!"

Your soon-to-be-ex couldn't handle anymore. Hvitserk's contempt was too much for him, and he got up, throwing his hands to catch Hvitserk's collar with a violent pull that stumbled him closer. The people around squealed or took some distance in fear, and the waitress shrunk behind one of the tables wanting to call the police again.

"You listen to me closely, you little son of a bitch! I don't fucking care about what you think or what the fuck did you drink, smell, or have been injecting yourself with, but if you think you'll take my wife away from me, you are completely..."

Your husband's voice was cut by a growl of pain when Hvitserk kicked his balls as strong as he could, straightening his clothes one more time and lifting his sleeves as your husband was nursing his pained jewels. Then, a second strike came: a right hook from under your husband's chin, throwing him flat to the ground, dizzy and shrinking himself in pain; his tongue bleeding after being bitten when his teeth were violently hit against each other.

"Still wanting to play the macho-man around, brother? Uh? Get the fuck up and put yourself together! Know your crime, pay your price, you asshole! And one more thing," Hvitserk said, pulling your husband up by his collar and forcing him to stand. "Touch me again, and I'll get your life crushed! Approach Y/N once again, and I'll get your life crushed! Do anything I dislike, and I'll get your fucking life crushed! Did you listen to me well, Y/H/N??"

Hvitserk pushed Y/H/N back, releasing his collar. And your husband spat some blood on the ground, looking at Hvitserk with rage in his eyes but silent. He knew there was nothing he could do against the power of Hvitserk's family. You were lost for him, but he didn't want to give up so easily.

"That little girl is my daughter! You faggot of a brother can do whatever he wants: she'll always be my seed, and no one will take her away from me!" he tried.

"Watch me, my friend!" Hvitserk mocked, ironic. "Now get the hell out of my face! My biggest shame in life was to promise your daughter you would be the father of her dreams! But don't worry. She won't have her father to shame her with his actions, but she'll have a bunch of good uncles disposed to make her life the dream she deserves! And to turn your life into a real nightmare if you ever try to hurt her mother again. Fuck off and disappear! Or do better... Learn from your mistakes and go play the good father to the second child you found a way to produce, you piece of shit!"

Hvitserk spat near your husband's feet, disgusted. And once again, he opened his wallet, leaving some more money over the table near the frightened waitress.

"I'm truly sorry for this pitiful show. Here, for the damage, and thank you for your service," he said, leaving towards his car.

Leaving your husband behind, yelling at everyone as if the crowd didn't have a bunch of good reasons to look at him with disgust on their faces.

"What? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? FUCK OFF!"

Hvitserk just ignored the yelling, driving away. He was ready to really ruin your husband's career and his life if it was necessary, but now it was time to take care of what was really important.

When you arrived at the apartment, Thora was there with Hvitserk's boy, waiting for you. The little one was sleeping inside a basket so was your daughter in your arms. Sigurd entered, carrying your bags, and Thora received you with her doughy and pleasant voice, filling your heart with relief.

"Oh, thank the gods, you're here! I thought it would be harder. Are you ok, Y/N? How is this poor sweet princess?" she mumbled, caressing your daughter's back.

"She's fine, I... I'm still shocked," you answered.

"Come with me, I prepared the room for you to put your little girl to sleep. Then we can talk, love."

She was always so sweet! You couldn't thank more for the fact that she and Hvitserk crossed each other’s paths. He always deserved exactly what Thora was, and you were happy they were together.

If only your marriage was like theirs as you imagined it would be...

When your daughter was sleeping comfortably in the room, Thora took you back to the living room, and you noticed your bags weren't there anymore.

"I took everything to your room. It is right beside hers, so you don't have to worry. You can set everything tomorrow, sweetheart."

Sigurd was smiling at you, and it was so comfortable, so familiar. You smiled back at him: your first smile since your husband came back home.

But you weren't whole. Your eyes filled with tears as Thora was speaking, and she was the first one to notice it.

"I made you some food. I thought you could be hungry and... Oh, love! Don't cry!" she said, embracing you when you broke into heavy sobs once again.

"What have I done wrong?" you asked, feeling Thora's arms around you as she conducted you to the couch.

Sigurd brought you a cup of fresh water and held your free hand as you drank it slowly, trying to calm your sobs.

"You did nothing, Y/N," Sigurd answered. "You were the perfect wife, the perfect mother, and any man would be lucky to be the chosen one of your heart. Y/H/N was lucky! But he didn't know how to give you the proper value. Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." he said.

"What will I tell my daughter now?" you mumbled the question that was tearing your heart apart.

How could you explain that whole situation to your child without breaking her image of what love should be?

"Tell her the truth," Thora said, caressing your hair slowly. "Gently tell her that life changes, and nothing lasts forever. But also tell her that you can rebuild your life, even when everything is crumbling, love. Tell her that you can be strong by yourself. Show her that you can do it, and she will grow to be an independent woman, strong and self-aware as you are. And if something like this ever happens to her, then she will know she can kick the asshole's ass and move on with her life without fear. She'll know she's enough to herself and needs no one else to build herself a good life."

Her words sounded full of hope to you, soothing the pain in your heart and the doubts of your mind.

"People may be bad sometimes. They commit mistakes and break other's trust sometimes. Your experience will serve to show her she must be prepared to have her trust broken once in a while, but she can surpass it like her mother is doing," Sigurd completed.

Your lips rehearsed a small smile.

"Thank you," you mumbled right before the door opened behind you.

Hvitserk getting in, a little misaligned.

"You're welcome," he smiled.

You got up quickly, throwing yourself into his arms, embracing your friend as tight as you remembered loving so bad and missing so hard.

"I missed you so much!" you said, feeling his arms around you tight.

"Don't you ever leave me out of your life again, sister!" he said. "You're my best friend, Y/N. I'll always be there for you."

Inside his arms, you felt the last drop of fear melting in your heart.

You were safe, and they would help you to rebuild your life.

That man you once thought was the love of your life could go and lick his wounds wherever he wanted! You would start over without him and make everything better for you, your daughter, and that beautiful family your friends were for you.

My dear LMAnon,

I'm not Hvitserk, nor Ivar, nor Sigurd, nor Thora...

I have no money or resources to move you from the situation you are in, nor the strong fists I wish I had to punch your bastard of a husband as much as I think he deserves.

But I have faith.

I have faith the gods will open the doors for you to leave this awful situation.

I have faith you'll find the help you need.

I have faith you'll find your strength, your identity, your self-confidence, and rebuild everything he broke with your trust and the dream you had for the two of you.

I have faith in you.

Call me whenever you need to talk. And if there is something I can do for you, anything, tell me.

Until there, I'll be here praying to the gods to fill you with strength so you can surpass this awful moment in your life and build yourself a path you will, one day, look back to be proud of.

There is no good that never ends, nor evil that lasts forever.

This will pass. And one day, he'll be nothing but a bad memory you'll see long gone in your life.

All the love and my best wishes!

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #hvitserk #sigurd #hvitserk ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd x reader #godfather!hvitserk #sigurd’s fairy muses #hvitserk’s heathen feast #sister wives #shot #TW: Cheating Husband

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rebloged-content · 3 years

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Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

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Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404 a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh.

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them.

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time.

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

#I hope it's okay to you I just went ahead and did this #if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know #also no I didn't check the spelling #I'm too tired to do that anyways #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #recommendations #list

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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Of All the Places

Chapter 12

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Loki is in SHIELD’s custody, but refuses to speak. That is, until Thor manages to get through to him. Chapter Warnings: kinda angsty and some bad language A/N: Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @marvelousdaydreams @parkastoria @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @sourpatchspinster @gaitwae

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The wall across from him was a dull, depressing shade of gray. It had light cracks running through it, undoubtedly from previous super-powered villains who had resisted against their captors. This deep in the belly of the beast, Loki doubted they had much success with anything besides maybe giving out a few bruises. He, however, would not give the agents the satisfaction of seeing him lash out, no matter how badly he wanted to act like a madman, tearing everything apart until they let him go. Until he could see you. But, no, he swore he’d stay away from you for your own good.

Loki looked at the one-way mirror out of his peripheral vision. Another thing he refused to do was look directly at them, to look like he cared at all. His whole plan on getting out of here hinged on the fact that he seemed completely uninterested. It had worked the first time, after all. Though, that would probably mean they were more likely to be wary of him now. It didn’t really matter, anyway. His plan was half-baked at best, and he didn’t have much hope for getting out. Or much of a reason for trying, either. Not when he couldn’t go to you. A pain shot through his whole body, starting in his heart and spreading out. It was the all-consuming thought of you that made him show a crack in his armor, even though it was for the briefest of seconds. He tried to go back to the completely calm facade he’d been doing such a good job of keeping up, but he was sure he looked quite a bit more deranged now. It was much more of a strain on him to look fine when he was remembering that you were out there, possibly still crying into Denzel’s shoulder.

The door to his left swung open, and Loki examined his nails as best he could being cuffed to the table. He hoped the action looked as nonchalant as it did in his mind. Fury and Natasha walked up to the chair opposite him, but neither sat down for a second, obviously trying to give a subtle reminder of the power they exerted over him. Finally, Fury took the seat, but Natasha remained standing off to the side. It was probably a reminder of how she got him to crack last time. As if he would let that happen again.

“So,” Fury began, “you mind telling me what was going on in that crazy head of yours, attacking civilians without a cause.”

He was met with silence.

“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. Now, don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Still, stony-faced silence.

“You can take all the time you need. The sooner you answer, the sooner we can ship you back to that alien planet you dared to come from. It makes no difference to me whether you’re rotting here or there. I’m in no rush.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Loki taunted. The man’s intimidation tactics were more annoying than anything else, and Loki couldn’t resist the chance to be snide. “After all, it only took you two months to find me. And even then it was only because of a civilian, is that not right?”

“Fine, have it your way,” Fury shrugged, leaving the room with Natasha, seemingly carefree, though Loki knew he was grating on his nerves.

Really, all Loki wanted to do was break down, scream. Cry. But he knew he was being watched, so he didn’t say or do anything else. He should have left when he had the chance. Had he not stayed on your farm, he wouldn’t be in custody right now. Not to mention you and your family wouldn’t have had to be interrogated. Because, he was sure, there had been countless questions asked of you in the past twenty-four hours. Most of you would be safe, he knew, but what about John? He had kept Loki’s secret. If he was smart, he would claim it was under duress. Alas, Loki knew his friend cared too much to say anything that might condemn him. He could only hope John didn’t incriminate himself instead.

And Matt! Oh, that poor boy would be so confused, so upset. Right from the beginning Loki knew he would be no good for the child, but did he listen to sense? No, he gave into his own selfish desires. If only he hadn’t spent so much time with him, this might be easier. Maybe Matt was still young enough that after all this was said and done, he wouldn’t even remember it. Of course, that means he wouldn’t remember how Loki saved him either. The thought made him sadder than he ever would have imagined it could.

What of Papa and Ana, Loki wondered. They knew nothing of his true identity, so they must be safe. Ever the pacifist, he was sure your father would keep everyone as calm as possible during the whole ordeal. But Ana might not be doing too well. Plus, she was pregnant, and Loki felt guilty he’d inflicted so much stress on her during such a time. It dawned on him just then that, in his mind, he’d always just assumed he’d be around to meet the new baby. Needless to say, that was not the case. How he already missed your whole family already. Except for Mama. Screw it, even her! As annoying as she was and whatever she may have done in the end, Loki enjoyed the banter with her, deep down.

Then there was you. You’d cared for him since the moment he first arrived. From the very second you saw him passed out in the field to the time you found out the truth, you watched over him. All the bruises and cuts and scratches on him, you had healed with your touch. And that wasn’t just the physical ones, but the ones on his heart, too. Words could not describe all that you had done for him. His blood boiled at the thought that SHIELD agents were prying into the details of your relationship at that very moment.

He remembered he’d said he’d sing for you one day. He’d never get to do that now. He supposed it could just be added to a growing list of broken promises.

The last image he had of you as the van pulled away was still burning in the back of his mind. The way Denzel had been holding you, comforting you, it broke Loki. After everything you went through together, that should have been him. That could have been him. Instead, Mama had to go and ruin everything. He couldn’t really hold that against her, though. After all, he had been branded as a criminal. When you got down to the nitty-gritty of it, he actually was a criminal. But was he a villain? There was a difference there, he realized, but he didn’t know exactly where in the spectrum he fell. You’d called him a hero once. He shuddered to think what you’d call him now.

He’d vowed to leave you alone, but his resolve was already weakening. What if, by some miracle, he was able to get out of here? Could he go see you for even a second? If for nothing else, then to apologize for all the wrong he did you. He shook his head ever so slightly. That was not a thought he should be entertaining. How could he be so stupid! Here he was thinking about making the same mistake again. Would he ever learn? He needed to keep you out of this. You never should have even been involved in the first place. A monster; that’s all he ever was, and all he’d ever be. A single imperceptible tear rolled down his cheek.

Again, the door opened, but this time Thor walked in. He was seething in anger, but if Loki looked deep enough—and for whatever reason, he did—there was also a deep remorse in his eyes. A sadness Loki could only assume was due to all that had happened. It made him feel a little bit better to know he wasn’t the only one who wished things could have been different.

“Brother, I know not why you have taken this path,” Thor said. “But the sooner you confess, the sooner I can go back to fixing the mess you made in the rest of the Nine Realms.”

“What?” Loki scoffed. “So eager to leave your precious Midgard.”

He tried to spit it out with only venom in his voice, but it just sounded sad at the end. It was, after all, his precious Midgard now too.

“What happened, brother?” Thor asked, a bit more softly than he had before. “Why did you attack?”

Loki looked at the table, unable to face Thor. “You would not believe me even if I told you.”

“What have I ever done that you think I do not trust you, care for you, brother?”

“Stop calling me that,” Loki snapped, his eyes shooting up to Loki’s face. He would have stood if his restrains allowed it. “I am sure father dearest has already told you my true heritage.”

Ah, there was the venom in his voice. His demeanor quickly changed, though, when he noticed Thor was looking at him with a puzzled expression. Loki had assumed that Odin would have gone singing through the streets, telling everyone that Loki was a Frost Giant once he declared him a villain. Could it be that he hadn’t even told his prized son?

“Did he...” Loki gulped. “Did he not tell you?”

“Father did not mention anything. Loki, what are you talking about?”

“I am Jötnar, Thor,” Loki whispered. “The very thing you were taught to abhor.”

Thor finally sat down. He seemed to still be confused by something, though the trickster god could not quite figure out what. Perhaps he was just deciding the best way to slay the beast, to strike him down.

“But you are still my brother.”

Loki’s voice caught in his throat, and he choked on his words. He was nearly as shocked as Thor seemed, if not more. Though, it was for entirely different reasons. He sputtered, trying to find the right thing to say. So much for his cool demeanor.

“Just tell me what is wrong,” Thor said, “my brother.”

“I will tell you. On one condition.”

“That depends,” Thor hesitated, “on what that condition is.”

“That family I was staying with, you must make sure they are all safe. All of them.”

“You have my word. Now, please, tell me why you attacked Midgard. We will discuss your previous actions another time.”

“Very well,” Loki conceded with a small nod. Here goes nothing. “It was the mad Titan, Thanos. After I fell—well, let go on the Bifröst, I was adrift in a void for a while. It was not my intention, but it is what happened. After, well, to be quite honest, I do not know quite how long, Thanos pulled me out. He... He twisted my mind, bent me to his will. He used me as his puppet and made me attack. It was his bidding that I lower Midgard’s defenses, take note of what kind of fight the planet could put up. And one more thing. He wanted the Tesseract. I cannot at this moment, however, give it to you.”

Thor paused for a moment, the gears in his head turning. “And why is that?” he questioned.

“Because of these,” Loki said, lifting his magic-restraining chains. “If you take them off, I will be able to provide you with it.”

For once, he was telling the truth. He had no plans to keep the artifact for himself. Not right now, anyway, with so much else on the line. Once he had handed it over, though, he would have teleported away. It would have been nice to make amends with Thor, yes, but it was not something he would stake his freedom on.

“Point Break,” Tony said, popping in. “Can we talk to you out here for a second?”

Thor excused himself and left Loki by his lonesome again. Well, he wasn’t really alone with so many agents watching from the other side of the glass. His heart was beating wildly. If it had been up to Thor, if he had acted quick enough, Loki would already be on his way off this planet. There was no way anyone else would ever allow it now.

“Ok, Rock of Ages,” Tony said, waltzing back in with Thor and Fury close behind. “You know what I think? Your story sounds like a load of bullshit. But, Point Break here says he believes you.”

“Which is the most idiotic thing I’ve heard,” Fury added.

“And he’s got some evidence to back it up,” Tony finished.

Loki looked at his brother with wide eyes, much like he had when they were kids and he was about to get in trouble. A part of him couldn’t believe Thor would have stood up for him, even after their little heart to heart. He dared let a spark of hope ignite in his heart. If Thor was sticking up for him, and SHIELD was accepting his story as the truth that it was, then was he free to go? After all, if they agreed that it was not him, what reason did they have to keep him in custody?

“May I ask, then,” Loki started, “am I free of the charges? May I go?”

“I am afraid, brother,” Thor solemnly replied. “That I cannot allow that.”

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seijohsfairy · 3 years

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Anonymous

ahh!! all the nii-san posts are so good, but have you considered twin brother tobio who thinks your the only one for him

I have,, It has affected my sanity and rings in my head a hundred times a day. I hate it here. Truly. This became sorta really long? But I hope you enjoy (・´ｪ｀・)

tw incest, dubcon if you squint

The flashes of light are incessant, an obnoxious wave of noisy shutters filling the silence in between mutters and questions. Your fists around the bottom lining of your old jacket, denting the fabric under the light ministrations of your fingertips. It’s nerves, they still creep up from time to time when you feel the eyes. They linger, curious or accusatory ones alike. Another flash makes you blink, then it’s quiet. You take a breath at the same time he does, accidental, but of course you do. You’ve always mirrored him after all, even when you weren’t trying. Tobio holds the air until everything grows completely immovable, like still water in winter.

His eyebrows twitch slightly, before he speaks. “I am happy.” Simple, straightforward, you can’t help but let your smile shine through. He eyes the interviewer for a moment, before nodding. “We’ve all worked hard to prove we deserve a spot on the court, it was a good match and I’m happy with the outcome.” The interviewers quickly take notes, before another sea of flashes rains down on the curved panes of his face. It’s his standard post-match ramble, nothing new there, but you can see the spark of victory where it bends him in two and shatters at the fold. “And,” his eyes flick around across the small group of people.

They find yours. “My sister came to support us in the stands so I am very proud.” The deep blues rest on you like you’re the end of a war, his lips turning upwards at the sides. He is proud, of you, and you of him just as much. Or even more if possible, though you are quicker to lower your gaze at the attention. An interviewer to your side clears her voice, before clicking her pen a few times in rapid succession. The press irritates him, though he’s gotten very good at hiding it over the years. In this moment though, you can tell.

It’s written all over in the way he stands on balls of his feet, like he’s ready to sprint out. You wonder if he would reach for you before setting off, or if you’d have to chase him down the hall like another of the fans. Either way you wouldn’t be far behind, it’s just the nature of your relationship. The lads presses her ruby lips together. “When will you take another girlfriend to a game? You broke up with your last girlfriend in May, fans want to know if it is true that you are keeping your newest fling private.”

Ushijima gives you a little head tilt as he walks past, his cheeks coloured from exhaustion, towel still dangling around his neck. You return it. A few of the interviewers immediately turn their attention to him, snapping photos and calling out for him with an almost violent greediness, the small interaction not going unnoticed. You think you hear someone mention your name to him in the same line as ‘dating’, and Wakatoshi’s deep chuckle is comforting when he leads the bunch of them down the hall. Tobio is frowning when you turn back, at the woman with the high ponytail and red lips that shimmer under the artificial lighting.

“I would’ve kept all of it private if that could have been the end of it.” He raises a hand to brush some of his sweaty hair away from his face, before dropping his eyes to the floor. “I only bring the people precious to me to my games.” He does. He asks happily, over the phone like a giddy child, at the crack of dawn when he goes for his run. You’ve complained about it many times. He still does it though, because Tobio is nothing if not persistent. You only notice him moving because the people around you gasp and gawk, flinching away from him like he’s other. He is, too, a different breed entirely.

His long fingers are around your wrist, pulling you from behind the lenses to his side, tucked against his shoulder like a little parasite. That’s what you think you must look like when the flashing starts. Tobio’s arm wraps around your back and rests his chin on your head though, allowing you to fit right in his hold. Another one of his shiny trophies. His smile looks a little brighter from this angle. “My sister is the only one who has never missed a game of mine. If you want to report on anything, this is the person I am most grateful for in my life right now. I’m very lucky to have her support.”

It feels unreal. Someone calls out your name, the shutters get the noisiest they’ve been all day. It won’t be a headline in the making, you try to calm yourself, bowing at the same time Tobio does. He drops his hand to wrap around yours, and tugs you behind him. It’s straightforward, your brother always is. The violent banging against your rib cage is less so, but you’ve gotten used to it already.

///

“Why did you say all that stuff to those guys earlier? Were you not feeling too well?” Tobio looks up from where he’s putting his bag down, his eyes shooting up along your body. “You’re normally good at dealing with the press post-match.” You put the towel under the water, before turning back towards the main room of your apartment.

“What did I say that was wrong?” He tosses his sweaty shirt on the heap of jerseys and leggings to wash, picking up his towel and swinging it around his neck. You look down again, playing with the fluffy fabric as you approach.

“Nothing, Tobio. I just-” you linger at the couch, resting your hip against it, “you don’t normally egg on rumours about your dating life. It’ll be fine because it’s me, but if it were anyone else people might be cautious of your words. They really want a story on the details, you know. And I’m not really used to being next to you on pictures, it was a bit surprising, s’all.”

“I meant what I said.”

He closes the rest of the distance for you, standing toes to toes. You don’t look up until you can feel the soft puff of air on your head, where he lays a kiss. It feels warm, and good, and you bite your tongue when the pounding of your heart starts feeling painful against your chest. You duck away from it the second time, pushing his chin up with two fingers instead. Tobio smiles into his exhale, as you trace across his features with the wet towel. Brows, eyes, nose, under his chin and along the line of his throat. “Are you mad at me?” He drops his eyes back to yours when you frown, before tacking onto your slight frustration. “Or about the dating?”

“Tobio,” you mumble, pulling out of his vicinity too late. His hand is already on your forearm, tugging you right back in place. Face to his chest with barely enough space to look up all the way to his handsome face. You try to keep it out, but your tongue starts to feel a bit bitter anyway. “I really don’t want to-”

“Because we can stop doing that as soon as you say so. They get paid a lot of money, money I’d rather be using on us. I’m tired of doing it.”

Even now, still spent from the match, he smells like safety. Like home, perfectly familiar. You have to physically distance yourself from him by turning your eyes to the couch, not to melt right into him. “Then don’t,” you nod. “But then I have to stop being less… everywhere with you too, and I don’t think you want that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a good actor, Tobio. I can’t pretend not to care and people will look at us, and see.”

“Then let them.”

You sigh, dropping the towel aside under the arm that he’s still holding. He draws gentle circles into the soft skin, like he’s trying to unpick the rips in every single fiber of your threaded sanity. “You’re impossible.” He bends his knees and drops to your level, kissing you. Softly, a few feather-light kisses that shut you up, and then one that breaks you open. He pulls you into him by the waist, the hard lines of his chest against your softer ones. The press of his lips to yours is sweet, though entirely guilty as he uses the leverage on your body to walk you back a little, melting into you.

He bites at your bottom lip and swipes his tongue at yours, sucking eagerly. You imagine his tongue to spell out ‘mine’ on the soft parts of your mouth a million times, because when he gives you a break to breathe you’re dizzy. “You said we weren’t going to do this again.”

“I‘ve been a better liar than you for a while, little sister,” he grins, though you can see the hesitation in his eyes too. This is such a bad thing, it’s wrong, you know it and Tobio must know too. It eats you up inside, but maybe that’s why it’s so easy to believe him. You let your face drop against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his chest dictate yours. “You were made for me, remember? And I for you. And I wished that we’d get married and you wished we’d always be together forever.”

“On our fifth birthday,” you remind him, ignoring his hand when it starts playing with the edge of your worn jacket. It’s his, you suddenly hate how obvious you are. Tobio hums softly at your frown.

“I never stopped meaning it.” He uses one of his long legs to hook around yours and pushes you over into the couch, though you land softly. And while you’re trying to catch your breath from the sudden tilt, he follows you down, coming to lift your knees open and upwards. He leans down on his forearms on top of you, and presses another kiss to your lips. This one is lazier, like he’s already won. He has. Because you shouldn’t be in this situation at all. “I love you,” he whispers, starting to kiss down your neck and zipping open his old jacket from your body.

His large body slotted in between your legs, he presses his hips into you just enough to drive you absolutely mad. “I can’t stay away from you, so stop pushing already,” he moans, reaching down to shift himself in his shorts. Your body, the traitorous thing, basically shudders in excitement when he pulls your top underneath your tits, leaning down to take a bud into his mouth. “Say it,” he ruts his hips into yours now, the friction making you whine. It feels so good, he feels so good.

“I- I love you,” you close your eyes when he smiles at you again, lifting himself from your body to drag your shorts and panties down your legs. “Ah- ‘want you, Tobio.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, sitting back in the couch, “want you too, been wanting you for so long. So long, you have no idea.” He pulls at you until you get up too, sitting you down on his lap, his hard cock slotted between your thighs with a his. “How did you expect me to fuck this perfect, little hole and forget about it, anyway? I belong in this tight cunny, it belongs to me.” He’s rambling, humping you in his lap with his head thrown back and his fingers digging so deep into the skin of your hips they might leave permanent indents.

You press a few kisses to his throat, which he grunts at, before lining up and sliding down the head. He’s already so big, that’s what you remember most. You twitch as you lower yourself on him, moaning through the deep breaths. He stretches you so wide it’s hard to think of anything else, just Tobio. Tobio, Tobio, your Tobio. He drops his forehead on your shoulder when you’re full, before thrusting up into you. You start moving up and down too fast for his liking but your patience has worn too thin for slow. “Wait, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Tobio chokes, shoving you back down in his lap. His cockhead is already at the very end of your sloppy cunt, pressing against every inch.

“Want your fat cock to break me open, please. I need it. I need you. Tobio, please.” He kisses down your face and neck to let you adjust a moment longer, before rolling his length deep inside you once, twice, filling you up over and over again. Mind blank, you lift yourself up a bit higher to drop down on him, his breathing getting shallower by the second. He mumbles out soft curses, and you cling to him. You won’t last. “T-Tobio,” you beg, and he slides his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit with precise movements. “Wanna cum on your cock. You too, cum into me, please.”

He only picks up the pace more when he flips you back over on your back, rutting his cock into you so deep it kisses your cervix with each thrust. Fingers sliding through the sticky mess with calculated precision. “Cum then, slutty girl. Cum on your brother’s cock, you deserve it. I’ll fuck you until you can’t ever think of what others think again.” His hips smack into your doughy skin with every pump, stretching you wide open for him. You can only hang onto him while you cum, moaning his name over and over. “Ahg— Tobio, fuck, holyfuckholyfuck I love you. Love you, Tobio!” Your arms around his shoulders, nails ruining his beautiful skin. “I’m sorry,” you breathe as he kisses you, never once stopping.

He doesn’t give you rest, can’t. But his lips are all over yours, comforting you even now. “I know, baby, I know.” He forces himself to slow down a little as you clamp around him so tight, not ready to let this end. His hips twitch, eyes sharpening on your fucked expression. The rush of love he feels should be illegal. “You’re mine. Don’t fucking forget it ever again. I’m going to fuck you limp.”

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hatake-no-sharingan · 3 years

Text

Time travel AU (Part 2: Minato’s promise)

AU Summary: The world is falling apart, and the Sage of the Six Paths sends Naruto back in time to find his parents and collect the thing that will help him and Sasuke save the shinobi.

Link to part 1: HERE

Part 2 Summary: Naruto tells his parents why he’s come back in time, and asks them to help him save the world. Y/N notices there’s something off with everything that’s going on, but Minato steps up to keep his family safe.

Characters in part 2: Y/N (as Naruto’s mom/ Minato’s wife), Minato and Naruto

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for @itsao-mine, my amazing reader. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, beautiful. Hopefully you’ll like reading it as much as I’ve loved writing it. I hope everyone else enjoys it too <3 Thank you for being so supportive of my writing.

Minato’s promise

Minato’s mouth dropped wide open. For a moment Y/N thought she imagined the whole thing, but she wiped her eyes and both Naruto and her husband were still in front of her. Minato’s initial shock had transformed into his signature smile.

The resemblance between the boy and him was uncanny. They had the same yellow hair and expressive blue eyes, as well as his easygoing manner. At the same time, he spoke in the same distracted but cheerful way Y/N did. He had the same expressions as her. There was no denying this was their child. But how was it possible?

As if reading his wife’s mind, Minato spoke.

“Naruto, this is very weird so you’d better have one hell of a good explanation on how the same baby she’s carrying is also sitting here all grown up, being a full fledged shinobi.”

Naruto’s stomach made a noise, revealing his hunger.

“We can talk about it over dinner, you both need food to restore yourselves, and so do I, remember I’m still eating for two.”

Y/N served three generous bowls of ramen and had her two ninjas take a seat at the table.

“Wow mom, you really do know how to cook. This is so tasty, maaan I love it. Did you know ramen is my favorite food? Have I mentioned it yet?”

“Well it’s also my favorite food. Don’t I cook it for you often? In the future I mean.”

“Ummm, not really” he laughs nervously “anyway, let me tell you what’s going on. It’s kinda messy really, and a hard story to tell, but I’ll try my best”

Naruto does try his best to summarize everything without getting much into detail, and his parents seem to catch on a bit. Naruto is surprised that they actually believe every word he says and seem keen on helping him, which is a relief, really, because he’d be lost without their support.

“So you’re telling us that in the future, 17 years from now, an evil princess who mysteriously fell from space ages ago comes back to life so she can plant a tree which enslaves all of humanity and feeds on their chakra and the only way to stop it is if you and Sasuke Uchiha, who just so happens to be the cute baby I saw a week ago in my friend Mikoto’s arms, seal her. For that you need to collect a special type of chakra from the Kyuubi because it’s exactly released at the time of your birth and a scroll from the Uchiha Clan which Sasuke is trying to find at this same time, and that’s why the Sage of the Six Paths gave Sasuke the power for one trip in time with his, what did you say it was called?” Says Y/N.

“Rinnesharingan”

“Right, rinnesharingan. So did I understand correctly?”

“Yes you have it all right. So will you let me attend my own birth so we can save everyone?”

“If it’s for the sake of the world I will, right, yondaime?”

“Of course, my love” says her husband.

“Thanks mom, you’re truly the best”

“Come here, let me hold you for a bit, you must be exhausted”

Naruto moves close to his mother, and she embraces him in a tender way he’s never felt before. She strokes his forehead and tries to reassure him that she and his father will help him through it all, but a deep fear settles in her heart.

After spending a few moments like this, and noticing her son is exhausted, she prepares the guest bedroom for him and carefully tucks him into bed.

Once Naruto has fallen asleep, Y/N settles in her couch with a cup of tea in her hands.

“Minato, I’m scared”

He sits on the couch next to her and starts massaging her tired shoulders. His hands are a balm on her fearful soul.

“It’s okay, I’m here for you. I’ll protect you three.”

“I’m worried, for the baby, and for Naruto. I know they’re the same person, but still I worry for them both.”

“I know honey, but think about it this way, if Naruto from the future showed up here, that means the baby will be alright” his warm voice tranquilizes her.

“Still, there’s something off with all this. I mean I do believe him, he’s our son, and I’m oddly happy to have met him. To know that this baby will become such a strong willed shinobi. He’s everything I’ve dreamed our son would be, but this feels weird. He didn’t know who I was. And he makes comments that make me think he hasn’t spent much time with us, Minato”

He knows. He noticed it too, but he didn’t want to say anything about it either.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He planted a kiss on her bare neck “Maybe he didn’t recognize you because you look different in the future. We’ll age, princess. As much as we hate to admit it.” He chuckles kindly, trying to brush off his own concern.

“Yeah I guess. He’s a distracted kid too. Guess whom he got that from?”

Minato laughs gently and encircles his wife’s waist so his hands reach her tummy.

“I’ll take care of my beautiful family. There’s nothing more precious than you. It’s a promise” They fall asleep on the couch, tangled in a loving embrace. Y/N knows her husband’s word is sacred, so she knows she’ll be okay, but there’s a part of her that still feels uneasy.

……

The next day they avoid talking about the topic, and instead, Naruto decides to enjoy the feeling of having his family together until his birth comes up. He helps Y/N do even the most basic tasks, and takes care of her protectively. Minato, Y/N and Naruto fall into a nice, familiar routine for the rest of the week, and Naruto even goes with Minato a couple times to the Hokage office and helps him sort through the day’s work. Time flies by, and he wishes he could stay here longer, but before he knows it, the day before his birth arrives.

He’s alone with his dad in his office, they’re settling everything so they can return to their house where Y/N is waiting for them with a delicious dinner.

“Hey dad, can I talk to you before we go home? There’s something you need to know. I, uh, well I haven’t had the heart to say it in front of mom, but there’s a reason I didn’t recognize her when I came here.”

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

Naruto’s stomach shrinks as he wishes he had another answer to that question.

“Yeah”

“I’ve had the feeling, that something might go wrong. That’s why I’ve had Kakashi follow Y/N, taking care of her. The sandaime and I planned the birth, so she’ll be surrounded by security, but I guess there’s no way to avoid it right? I’m just very sorry we don’t get to watch you grow up. Y/N has been very excited since she found out, having a child has lifted her spirits so much.” There’s a deep sadness in his eyes, but he brushes it away, replacing it with a soft chuckle. “But, hey, let’s worry about death later. Now tell me, did you grow up happy? Were your needs covered? Did you have love surrounding you?”

Naruto was taken aback by his dad’s inquiry, he hadn’t expected that he’d care more about his wellbeing than the news he’d just given him. Warmth spread through his chest and a thought crossed his mind I couldn’t have asked for a better family.

“Yeah, you could say my life has been nice, dad. You and mom have nothing to worry about.” His cheeks felt a bit hot “I eat well and I have many friends.”

“Tell me about it kid, I want to hear everything. It seems this may be one of our few chances.” Minato reached out and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Well, where should I start? Oh! I know, this will make you happy. Kakashi is my Sensei. We’ve been on many adventures together. He’s the captain of my team. I’m there with my two best friends, Sakura and Sasuke. Well, things with Sasuke have been rough, and that’s maybe another topic, but he’s the first person who deeply, truly understood me, and I’ve never given up on him. I never will.”

On the way home, Naruto keeps telling him stories about how he grew up, and Minato enjoys every single one of them. When they get there, he acts as if nothing had happened, and Naruto knows, he’s trying to find a way to protect Y/N.

#naruto #naruto fic #naruto imagines #minato #minato namikaze #minato headcanons #minato fluff #minato x reader #minato x y/n #hatakenosharingan

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Division of Labor (2/?)

Summary:

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 3

Link to cross-postings: AO3

"This doesn't make any sense."

Jean had always been one of the more vocal ones in the classroom when it came to inconvenient developments. More often than not, people had just brushed off his complaints and banter as an inevitable part of his personality. That was one of the few times everyone else agreed with him.

The rest though just sat silently in the classroom while both Erwin and Shadis went out of the room, to get what was supposed to be their "kids."

Having taken classes on reproduction and health growing up, most if not all the people in the room already knew the amount of money it took to raise a child and the importance of contraception.

Oddly enough though, the number of kids was decided at random, only justified by the fact that they would never know how many dependents they'll have to care of one day.

"Every single one of you will be faced with the prospect of taking care of a dependent one day, maybe for a few years, maybe for decades," Erwin had explained. He had a natural charisma in the way he carried himself and spoke that made everyone in the room aware of their own tendency for altruism. Everyone had somebody in their life, they probably would have dug into their savings to support be it a mother, a sibling or a close friend.

They were all silently doing their own reflections of who that person would have been as Shadis passed around sacks of flour at random.

"Just be lucky you don't have to do this in real life yet. This adult experience is fucking watered down already. If we could simulate the pain of childhood or the stench of a dirty diaper, we would. " Shadis' words were a stark contrast to Erwin's.

Either way, everyone was too distracted by the number they were getting and the whole prospect of having sack babies in the first place to even react to his words.

"We initially thought of using actual eggs or flour but if you're going to be taking care of this for the whole year…” Erwin fell silent for a second. “That would be disgusting."

The sack was definitely much lighter than what Levi had expected. He squeezed it, noting the firmness of the sack. It was stuffed with cotton. They thought some of it through at least.

Erwin turned on his projector, looking undisturbed by the awkward silence in the room. "By the end of this month, these are what I expect from all of you," He started. "An overview of career plans, a meal plan, a house design based on real estate prices around the area and a breakdown of house responsibilities."

He moved his tacky pointer towards the line on meal plans. "Every two weeks you and your partner go to the supermarket, assess grocery prices and submit me a list of groceries you would buy and a meal plan based on that for the family you have with you. Remember, you are still limited by your wage and each sack represents an extra mouth to consider when you make the meal plan. I will be sending a more detailed version with the deadlines and a prescribed format through email.”

The class was silent for a time. The only notable sounds coming from that room were the scratching of pencil and paper and a few sighs. Hange was taking notes next to Levi while the latter wondered why she even bothered when Erwin was going to send the rest of the information through email after all.

Erwin spent a good few seconds taking stock of everyone in the room before letting out a subtle sigh of his own. "Don't look too overwhelmed, these assignments will be incorporated into all your other classes anyway. Just don't expect teachers from other subjects to spoon feed you though. As much as possible we want you to learn to work with it independently."

Division of Labor

Regardless of what Erwin said, everyone was left overwhelmed anyway. The prospect of having to deal with that heavy of a workload and having that performance affect their chances at college had people spending their precious one hour of lunch time with their partners.

Despite his generally antisocial personality, Levi was rarely alone for lunch. Most days he spent his breaks with his classmates Petra and Oluo. Sometimes Gunther and Eld from the other section would join in. That was unless he felt particularly compelled to spend a lunch break alone. It was as if everyone silently agreed to use that short hour to discuss and strategize with their partners. Levi did not even have time to protest that trend, as his own friends filed out of their seats with their partners, not even bothering to ask if he would be joining them for lunch.

Or did they even need to ask? Hange was right next to him, already taking out her lunch and looking at him expectantly. “Let’s go?”

“Wait, who said we were having lunch together?”

Hange gestured subtly at the already empty room, as if to ask him “what else?” Levi cursed himself for even complaining about groupmates who never pulled their weight. At that moment, an overly enthusiastic groupmate seemed more unbearable and Levi almost wished he could have gotten a lazy and uninterested groupmate instead. At least then he’d be able to decide for himself when to start working.

They sat on one of the picnic tables in the school courtyard, Hange with a boxed lunch and Levi with his homemade sandwich. Their two sack babies were stacked up to the side of the table.

"So what do we name them?" Hange asked.

Levi grabbed one of the sacks from the pile and propped it up on his lunch bag, an attempt to use that empty slate of a sack as a guide to imagining what should be a face. With that, Levi could pretend they were at least kind of living and maybe they did deserve names.

"Flour," Levi suggested. His attempts to see life in faceless sacks came out fruitless.

"Let's try to be a little more creative Levi."

"Why do we even have to give names to these things? They're not even alive. Like nobody is gonna press charges if I stabbed it right now anyway."

"Because they're grading us,” Hange took out a permanent marker and carefully drew a smiling face one sack. She made sure to add a few lines of what looked to be bangs. As she went for the other sack, Levi could not help but notice the goofy smile that appeared on her face.

Levi narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this?”

"We’re here. Might as well enjoy it right?" Hange shrugged." If you're not gonna name them. I will." She propped the one she had just finished drawing on, up on Levi’s lunch bag. “This is Flora.” She continued drawing on the other sack. “And this is Fauna."

The names sounded to Levi like science terms he had learned too long ago and had wanted to forget. They flew into one ear and out the other within seconds and Levi had settled for internally naming the sacks the first thing he thought of when he saw Hange's artwork: “ugly bangs” and “eyelash.”

He made sure not to tell Hange though. She seemed way too enthusiastic about her naming choices.

Division of Labor

Although Levi did have a natural talent with numbers, this potential remained untapped through most of high school. The most apparent reason for this being the fact that the person teaching them Math, at one of the most important times in their high school life was an utter prick.

That utter prick of a Math teacher during their sophomore year made a comeback as their teacher for their junior year. He did not look too happy about it either. Levi at least shared that same sentiment.

"So I'm supposed to be teaching you guys about taxes but really, believe me, you won't really use half of this shit, just hire an accountant.” Zeke Yaeger propped his feet on the teacher’s table, not bothering to even explain the table of tax rates he had flashed as a powerpoint slide next to him. “ Or... just get an employer, they’ll calculate it for you anyway.”

“Do you mean get a job sir?” It was Marco who so politely asked the question.

“Get a job, get an employer, same banana.” Zeke answered, in between gulps of coffee.

Somehow everyone knew that getting a job would probably be not as easy as the phrase “get an employer” implied it to be. Zeke was their teacher though and he probably knew much more than they did, given the decades of work experience he had in his belt.

“Don’t we need to know how to calculate our taxes based on the table?” Armin asked. He looked to his partner Annie who seemed to be furiously taking notes.

Zeke looked once again at the board for a few minutes before slamming his cup on the table, spilling out some coffee in the process. “Just remember, if your employer promises you 70,000 dollars a year, don’t be surprised when you end up taking home 50,000 dollars coz of some bullshit about the government needing money, insurance and retirement.” He rolled his eyes. “Not like we all live that long to enjoy that K410 nonsense anyway.” He added bitterly, adding some venom on that part about that string of numbers in particular.

“If we own a business, how do we file them?” Annie asked.

“No one needs to know how to do this. Besides, you’re all in high school. Don’t stress yourself over this. Like I said before, just get an accountant.”

“What if we can’t afford an accountant?”

“Then don’t own a fucking business.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “Fine… Look, I didn’t prepare for that question, gimme a sec.”

The class watched as he closed the powerpoint, quickly opened an incognito window and went on google.

How to file taxes as business owners?

Zeke stared at the next few pages for what seemed like minutes, before clicking on one particular page.

“So yeah, it looks like you just fill out this form and send the money to the tax office.” He shrugged. “Your generation grew up with ipads glued to your faces. I’m sure you’re way better in googling shit than I am so yeah, just google the rest of what you need. Free period until your next class, now go talk about your fake taxes or your fake house or something.”

Division of Labor

Even with the free period Zeke had so generously given them, no one was able to start anything until they got home. It was eight in the evening when Levi opened his school email to find the information on their next tasks, which was sent only a few minutes ago.

September*

Week 3

Housing plan (Wednesday)

Housing Design (Wednesday)

Daily routine

Meal Plan

Week 4

Breakdown of Responsibilities

*Unless otherwise stated, please submit output by Friday of said week

Levi did not even have time to finish scanning through the guide to their housing plan task as his computer started to slow down, unable to take the quick scrolling. He soon realized it was not the scrolling that had made the computer so dysfunctional. On the lower right of his screen, he saw the notification.

Hange Zoe

New Message

The badge next to his messaging app, quickly rose from 12 unread messages to 26 to 45. Even the screen looked unable to display the messages properly. Wanting to save his computer from anymore torture, Levi grabbed his phone from his bed side and called his partner.

“If you have a lot of things you need to tell me, call .” Levi said, not even bothering to wait for a hello from Hange.

“Oh great! So you did get the messages! For a while I was wondering if your messenger app was broken.”

Levi looked back at the screen to see that the badge next to his app was already displaying a “99+.” If his application or his laptop was not broken then, it might break when he opens the application.

“What the hell are you sending anyway?” Levi asked, delaying the inevitable of having to open the messaging app.

“Links to houses for the housing plan,” Hange answered matter-of-factly. “Unless you’d rather I just say the links out loud for you to type it in the browser yourself.”

With a part of him so nervous at the possibly of his computer hanging or even breaking, Levi had ended having to slam his finger on his mouse when he opened the messaging app. He looked away not wanting to see how his computer tried to process the 99+ messages.

He lay on his bed opening the file on his phone.

“So, since I’m working freelance, I pretty much have a work from home job so we can live anywhere. We have two kids, so what do you think of a three bedroom house?”

“A ‘house house?” Levi looked around at his own living space which his uncle rented for him. He lived in a studio apartment and the concept of living in a house, even in a simulation seemed too unrealistic. “Like a house, with two floors, and multiple bedrooms?”

“And a garden!” Hange said excitedly. “So Flora and Fauna can run around.”

It took Levi a few seconds to comprehend that Hange was discussing their flour sack babies running around an imaginary garden. Levi was sure Hange was not an idiot though and had decided to at least entertain the expensive option of a fully furnished three bedroom house with a sprawling garden. “And, how were the prices?” Levi walked back to his computer to see that most of his messages had already loaded.

“Well, I found some for 1500 dollars a month, others for 1800 dollars a month. I earn 3600 dollars a month apparently, so I don’t think spending half of it on rent would be too much right?”

“I mean, it’s your wages right?” Levi replied. In truth, a part of him just did not want to go through all one hundred houses Hange had linked him too on the messaging application just to decide on a house.

Hange sent a picture of a split level house, with a wide front garden. “This is my favorite! It comes with a large backyard. And it only costs 1800 dollars a month!”

Only 1800 dollars a month. Levi almost choked. The words “only” and “1800 dollars a month” just seemed too absurd to his ears that someone saying it so casually had him speechless even if Hange was talking about a three bedroom house with a sprawling garden. He cleared his throat. “You’re the breadwinner.”

“Okay! Let’s design the house! I’ll move to my laptop.”

For some reason, Levi had a bad feeling about the listing Hange had shown him. He quickly brushed it away as it came, attributing it to the fact that he never really grew up with enough money to entertain the idea of spending on luxuries. He lived with less than three hundred dollars a month after all, all funded by his absent uncle.

Hange had seemed confident with her decision though.

I’ll stick to what I know best. In the end, Levi decided to leave the larger purchases to Hange. Hehad confidence only in his ability to manage a household. Maybe he would be able to contribute then.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfic

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

When You’re Ready Ch. 08

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: Angst, cursing.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce’s plans.

A/N: To the people who still is reading this story, thank you! Things are going to get juicy from now on, so I hope you are all prepared! (And I hope things in the book get really juicy too. I’m still recovering from last week’s chapter omg. My heart will never be the same after what Ethan told to MC :( (And I don’t even want to think about Bryce. My babyyyyyyyyyyyyy is so precious!)

Well, well, well. Hope you enjoy today’s chapter!

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @aylamreads @binny1985 @romewritingshop

Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist!

________

Chapter 8: Me cuesta tanto olvidarte.

Y aunque fui yo quien decidió que ya no más (And even though it was me who decided we were through)

Y no me canse de jurarte que no habrá segunda parte (And I didn't tire of swearing to you that there wouldn't be a second chance)

Me cuesta tanto olvidarte (It's so hard for me to forget you)

As much as he tried to avoid that moment, there he was, both feet on the grounds of Boston Logan International Airport. After two months in the Amazon, he was back at the place he wanted so much to escape, only to return with empty hands, with his personal mission failed.

His heart was feeling like there were never eight weeks since he left Boston, and was aching as much as the night they said goodbye. He had left for nothing. He wanted a reset, but he wasn't sure if that's what he got there.

Even if he tried every day to get her off his head, the most nonsensical things would remind him of her.

The sparkling eyes of the children seemed attached to the memories of her giving him the shiniest smiles he had ever seen.

The carefree nature of a young woman would remind him of her youthful spirit, a trait he had grown to appreciate since the moment he knew her, but that he had failed to preserve in the last months, due to his erratic attitude towards her.

And if there was nothing that reminded him of her during the day, there would always be a sparkle at the end of the day, just about to sleep, that would explode in his mind like a firework. Whether it be the feeling of her hands touching his face, his hair, his bare chest; or the feeling of her soft lips giving him life after a searing kiss.

Whether it be her amber eyes illuminating the darkness of his mind and waking him up to a trance of vivid memories and feelings of happiness and joy. Vivid memories of something that were long gone and that couldn’t be back; or her laugh invading his ears and making him jolt as if it was the painful hallucination of a schizophrenic mind, and swear she was just laughing by her side when the truth was they were thousands of miles away.

Some nights he would toss and turn in bed, wondering what would she be doing; if he had broken her more than he was aware; if what he had done was right; if all this was really about her or about his fears and the ablaze belief that he would never be worthy of her because he could never give her everything she deserved. Wondering if all this was always about the fact that since he was a child, he never felt worthy of love.

He honestly couldn’t know.

He didn’t know how to face a truth that had been carrying his whole adult life, and he wasn’t sure it was now the time to explore those feelings. It didn’t make sense now.

Some other nights he would lay remembering her, but the tiredness would be like morphine to his mind, sending him to sleep just as his head would touch the pillow. The memories of her wouldn’t haunt him like a ghost all night, the guilt wouldn’t eat him alive, there would only be a full night’s sleep, with physical recovery but with the same burden on his mind.

After three weeks, however, he had convinced himself that he had done the right thing. That she would eventually move on, that she would let him in the past and all this bad road would be over soon. But the hollowness somewhere inside him reminded him every time, that it wasn’t what he wanted, that he didn’t want it that way.

There was another way, but he was a coward.

Deep inside, he was hoping that the distance between them wouldn't make an effect like he intended to. He wanted it to fail. That her love was stronger than that. That that strongness was the proof he needed to push himself towards her, to fight for her, to hold her and never let her go again.

But then he would remember that all that he had been doing the last months, was for her, and only to protect her. That this self-sabotage would only damage her career. He couldn’t let that happen.

Ethan was having dinner at the ranch in the company of the owner, a Colombian elder woman who had spent her entire life receiving tourists that came to the rainforest from all places, and that had taught her the basics in various languages to communicate with them, English above all.

She had observed him for weeks. He noticed he was taciturn, thoughtful, that would never involve in small talk, so she had decided to respect his privacy and his love for silent meals. But he looked too troubled that night to ignore it.

“Are you in love, doctor?”—The woman asked, interrupting the dissection of his own thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?”—He replied, a bit startled for the intromission.

“I have lived long enough to know, by the look in your eyes, that you are in love. And that you would do anything to deny it, but it’s a stupid try, mi niño.”

He remained silent.

“I know you the yankees only care about work and money. You as a doctor are more human than others because you are here,”—She splayed her arms in the air, trying to sum up in a single gesture the greatness of the Amazon— “but for the same reason, you deprive yourself of the more important things in life as family and love.”

“Saving lives is the more important thing to me.”

“I know that. You have no family, no partner because your job goes first. But you are in love and I bet you are keeping the person you love away from you. Maybe that’s the reason why you are here, in the first place.”

“I didn’t know people in the Amazon were diviners.”

“We are not, but I have lived enough to see too many people coming here to forget, and that had failed.”

Ethan stared at her, thoughtful, not even sure if he would address her accusations.

“So, I am right?”

There was no point in denying. He would be gone in three weeks and then he wouldn’t see her again. He wasn’t risking anything.

“Yes, you are.”—He finally admitted.

“And Medicine has not taught you anything, doctor?”

“What do you mean?”

“You see life and death every day. You know the value of life and how easy it goes. Being a doctor is a tough job, but as someone who knows about the meaning of life and death more than any other person, you don’t seem to put into practice everything you have learned: To live and love ”

“It’s not that simple”

“It is simple. You have no idea how simple it is. I only hope you don’t learn it the hard way, when you lose your chance. I have seen it so many times, you wouldn’t believe me.”

The friendly silence joined the tabled again, leaving Ethan more pensive than before.

Maybe the elder woman was right, but Ethan was never a man of sentimentalism, of searching the meaning in things. He only wanted to seek the truth in life, how things were based only on facts. And the truth in this situation was that he had to stay away from Eleanor to protect her reputation and her career. There was no point in trying to find an alternative answer to that. The truth about them was absolute.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking of her words.

Ethan force himself to come back to reality as entered in the baggage reclaim area of the airport. Once it was all collected, he took a cab to his apartment.

Once he was there, he took a shower, unpacked his luggage, and drop off his clothes from the trip at the laundry service on his way to the hospital.

The sun was already set when he met Naveen at his office.

“Ethan, my boy, I’m so happy you’re back safe”—He greeted giving him a hug that Ethan replied coyly.

“Good to see you, Naveen. How have you been?”

“Incredibly well, the weather has been so nice. And my position as Chief gives me more time to enjoy the sun, so I’m incredibly well with the amount of vitamin D I have absorbed these past weeks.”

“I can see it. You’re more joyful than usual.”

“Not just because of the sun, but because you’re back. I sincerely missed you, my friend”

Ethan nodded in a way that Naveen interpreted as he felt the same.

“How was Manaus, well, and the rainforest in general?”

Ethan updated him about his trip, describing the streets and highlights of the city in detail, and after that, he followed up with his labor with the WHO, and how things were when he left.

The origin of the epidemic had been found in a river that rises in Colombia and flows to the Amazon River, in the middle of Brazil. The Amazon River was the biggest in South America and its size was the reason it had caused nothing less than an outbreak just in a few weeks.

Just before Ethan left, the development of a vaccine had started, as a variant from the Malaria’s; therefore, in the next three months it was expected to be tested and by the end of the year, it was expected to be produced. He wasn’t sure if the WHO would call him for another Mission, but Naveen would be fully aware of that in case they would.

The hospital was quiet when both mentor and protégé left the office. They parted ways in the parking lot. Naveen, to go to his car, and Ethan, to walk down the street towards Donahue’s to say hi to Reggie.

He needed a drink to feel he was really back in Boston. At Edenbrook. But deep down, he wanted to go there because he hoped she would be at the bar. There was no way she wouldn’t be with her friends celebrating their last day as interns and welcoming the first day as second-year residents.

His pace was slower than usual for multiple reasons. First, because he wanted to enjoy the warm night Boston was welcoming him with; second, because he wasn’t going there to kill the tension of a day’s work, just to enjoy the night. And third, because some part of him was afraid of what he would find there. If she was there. If his face would betray him even if he had mastered the stoicism long before he met her.

“Don’t teaser her, Jackie! I still have nightmares about that Ethics Hearing!”—He heard just when he was about to turn to the entry. “If Eleanor had left Edenbrook, I don’t know what we’d done.”

He had no doubt that that sweet and soft voice belonged to Sienna Trihn.

“Stolen her spot in the diagnostics team?”

And that snarky retort was from Jackie Varma.

“Oh. My God”—The tiny resident said once her eyes caught him at the entry.—“He looks so different.”

She didn’t even lower her voice as she acknowledged him. And he didn’t care. As soon as he realized where Sienna and her friends were, his eyes couldn’t help but search for her eyes.

“What are you talkin-“—Eleanor turned and her mumbling stopped right away as their eyes met. Her confused amber eyes went stunned in an instant.

“Rookie”—Was all he could say to not let his feelings betray him. The sole sight of her was painful enough to try something else.

“It's good to have you back, Dr. Ramsey”—She murmured, her voice distant. Like she wasn’t even conscious of her words, like she wasn’t saying them, and an automat had taken hostage of her body.

Even though she knew he would be back tomorrow, it was clear she didn’t expect to see him tonight.

“Yeah… Good to be back”—He tried to remain serene, but for a second his eyes faltered on her with a torn expression.

He hesitated for a moment before keep walking towards the main bar.

***

She felt like someone was turning the volume up in her head. The chatting of her friends, the clinking glasses, the laugh of people, the cars passing by, the music on the jukebox inside. All was too fucking loud on her head.

The bubble that had alienated her from the outside had popped just the moment she met eyes with Ethan. Every sound was irritating to her. Every laugh, every word, every passing car. Her heart beating fast, her agitated breath. All the noises were multiplying.

Still, she didn’t even know how she found the strength to reply to him. It didn’t sound like her at all. It was like she was observing herself outside his body, the obvious first-hand and only witness of her own autoscopy.

“Relax”—Bryce said in a jokingly tone when Ethan was out of sight—Ramsey might not be my type, but damn, I felt things too.”

All her friends burst out in laughs, trying to alleviate the tension.

“No one can deny that the man's his appeal, and with that makeover, oof. Total heartbreaker”—Conceded Jackie.

But she was barely conscious of what their friends were saying. Just as he entered the bar, she felt disoriented. Lost. The volume in her head started to turn down, silencing her from the noises around her. Like the earth had stopped rotating and she was caught in the middle of her own thoughts.

She didn’t expect that. She had come to terms with the fact that she would see him tomorrow, at Edenbrook, but she absolutely wasn’t prepared to see him tonight. At the bar. She should have known.

Then, she heard her name somewhere. Somewhere very, very far. And after that, a warm caress in her back shook her out of her stupor.

“Elle, are you okay?”

She looked up. All her friends were trying to catch her attention, and Sienna was staring at her with her brows furrowed in concern.

“Ellie…”

“Yeah, sorry, guys, I think the beer went to my head.”

Eleanor felt a warm caress against her back again.

“Babe, are you okay? D’you need a moment?”—He whispered, leaning carefully towards her.

“No, no, I’ll be fine.”

Bryce didn’t look so convinced.

She looked at him in the eyes, knowing that it would ease her mind. She smiled. It had worked. But she knew she couldn’t spend her life being wrapped to Bryce to feel calm, that she couldn’t run to his arms every time she felt something for Ethan. She had to face the pain, the fear, she needed to confront him to really be over Ethan. She had to do it alone with all the pain it was involved in.

“I’m okay, really”—She reassured, his lips quirking a bit to resemble a smile.

He nodded.

She wanted to be okay, because the last thing she had on her mind, was to make a scene, just as the last time she saw Ethan. No, she had to grow up. The days where she would drown in sadness and ‘what ifs’ were over. She had to handle the situation like the adult she was.

But it wasn’t that easy. Even though she rejoined the conversation with her friends, after an hour she really felt the need to have a moment.

“Sienna, care to join me?”

“Of course, Ellie”—She replied getting up from the bench.

The walked carelessly towards the bar, Eleanor trying to ignore completely the presence of Ethan sitting on his usual spot.

“Are you okay?”—She asked once she closed the door behind her.

“I… I’ve been better.”—She confessed, leaning against the wall.—It’s just… I wasn’t expecting to see him today, tonight, here. I made my mind I would see him tomorrow. But well, that’s how things went.”

“It was so shocking, for all of us. Mostly because of that makeover. I swear I thought I was confusing him with another person”

“Like a extremely hot twin brother of him?”

“Kinda, yeah”

They both laughed.

“That’s torture. How can he appear here like that and expect me to stay away?”

“Eleanor…”

“Sienna, I’m teasing”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“But I am. And I can’t even think about doing something with Bryce here.”

Eleanor shook her head.

“Ah, poor Bryce. He’s all in the comforting mood but I know it hurts him.”

“Maybe, but he’s actually worried about you.”

“Why he has to be so selfless? I don’t deserve it.”—She protested —He has been an angel with me this whole time. And this stupid asshole appears, and I fell to the ground like a whiny stupid.”

“Ellie, he knows what he’s dealing with. And I know he’ll be wise enough to leave when his time is over. I just hope that doesn’t happen, and that he gets his happy ending with you.”

“You don’t think I want the same? I want it. But it doesn’t matter what I want when the person I’m in love with it’s not him.”

There was silence. Sienna looked at Eleanor. She was pissed off, but not defeated like before. That was progress.

“Okay. Let’s focus.—Sienna exclaimed with renewed energy, trying to comfort her friend—"The things are this way: You’re still not over Ethan, but if you want to, you will. And you’ll do it by stop having hopes. You’ll focus on the good. On Bryce. On the beautiful moments you two have had. And as long as Ethan doesn’t say ‘Eleanor, I love you, let’s be together’, your situation with him is the same as it was when he left. It’s done. Terminated. Over. Okay?”

“Okay, yes. Yes. Crystal clear.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise”—She replied as her pinky locked Sienna’s.

A few moments later they returned to the table. Jackie had brought a new round of beers. Eleanor took her seat next to Bryce, and without a moment’s hesitation, she brought her lips to his cheek and kissed him softly.

He stared at her a bit confused. That day, at the beach, they agreed to be more discreet with their relationship now that Ramsey was back. Somehow, she wouldn’t feel comfortable that he could know about them when nothing was settled, and she didn’t want to provoke a response in him by jealousy or make him doubt her feelings for him. That way, they would return to their habitual friendly interaction in public spaces, but their relationship remained the same. Therefore, that show of affection in public was against their agreement.

“What was that for?”

“You just deserve a kiss for being so cute with me.”

He smiled.

“In that case, I deserve more than a kiss on my cheek, don’t you think?”

She shook her head and brushed her lips into his.

“Better?”

“Much better”

They continued their chatting through the night until Reggie announced he was about to close. Eleanor and her friends collected their used jars and went to the bar to give them to Reggie. Ethan was still by the bar and apparently, he had no intention to leave soon.

“What? Last call doesn't apply to you?”—She asked, her words coming out of her mouth incautiously. Like nothing had happened. Like the two months they didn’t see each other never existed.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?”—She snorted— “Is that what you call friendship?”

“I don’t have friends, but I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

“Say it. You want me to join you?”—She defied.

He stared at her seriously for a few seconds.

“I do.”

Eleanor turned to her friends

“I’ll stay for a while to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

“Okay”—Sienna replied—"Just don’t stay out too late... Aurora's dropping off the rest of her stuff before work tomorrow.”

Eleanor nodded and her eyes directed to Bryce. He winked at her before turning to the door, but she could have sworn his smile fainted the very moment he turned.

“Well, we've got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey.”—She stated, approaching him at the bar.—"You took the reset thing seriously.”

He gave him a painful look and scratched the back of his neck.

“Why don’t we move outside?”—He suggested, trying to diffuse his tension—"It'll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can.”

Ethan took a half-drunk bottle of nice scotch and head out to the empty beer garden, taking a seat beside a small fire pit.

“So… how have you been?”

“As good as it can be, given the circumstances there.”

“Yeah, I figure. I’m sure you went through a lot there.”

Ethan nodded. Thinking that he indeed went through a lot there, but maybe not the kind she had in mind.

“What about you?”—He inquired after a brief reflection.

“I’m doing great. Excited that intern year has finished. And tomorrow is my first day on the big leagues”

“Yeah. You start with the DT. Time has passed so fast”

“Certainly.”

Then, the silence made its presence. They stayed still to study each other subtly. Ethan couldn't decipher what, but there was something different in her that had nothing to do with the passing of time. It wasn’t the hair, her summerly outfit, or something physical. It was something in the way she was looking at him, in the way she was speaking, and even in her gestures, that made him realize she wasn't the same he had left eight weeks ago. There was something familiar about her manners, but he wasn't sure what it was.

And after an eternity of silence and endless questions inside his head, she finally spoke.

“Why you didn’t reply or call back… or said anything?”

All Ethan could think was if she was interested in asking that, it meant there was something still there. That maybe she still cared for him.

“Eleanor…”

“I had to ask Banerji to know me if you were okay. Don’t you think it isn’t unfair?”

“I know, he told me.”

“It was a fucking message, Ethan. Just ‘I’m okay’, just that, I wasn’t expecting a report. Just a fucking reply.”

“I know. I’m so…”

She raised her hand, stopping him midsentence.

“Please, don’t. If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place. It was so simple.”

“I needed to walk away…”

“Yes, I know, but this has nothing to do with that. With your so-called self-control. Cause I don’t know how much self-control you can compromise by sending a couple of words. It’s not like you can lose it being thousands of miles away from me. But, of course, the fault is always mine for expecting some decency from you.”

“You were worried?”

“How can you ask something like that? Of course I was worried! Epidemics are unpredictable and much riskier to doctors.”

She shook her head.

“I really hoped our conversation would’ve made sense to you. But no. Nothing’s changed. You can’t even be a decent friend or colleague.”

He remained silent.

Eleanor took a sip of the scotch, and then breathed heavily with her eyes closed. After a few moments, she opened them with renewed energy.

“Well, no point in dwelling in the past. Let’s talk about tomorrow.”

Her words caught him by surprise. The way she just shook off of his mistake was new. He expected she would give him hell for at least fifteen minutes, but apparently she had more important things to discuss.

“Okay, what do you want to know”—He said, finally.

“What should I know?”

“Well, once the meeting with all the other residents is done, you have to go to the Diagnostics Team office, to join us for the daily meeting. We’ll be discussing a new case too. A few hours ago, the hospital informed me that we are receiving a patient from Manhattan Presbyterian, so that will be your first case as Fellow Member.”

“Excellent. Anything I need to know about the other members?”

“I leave it to you, so you don’t meet them biased from what I tell you”—There was some strange tint in his sight, something mischievous Eleanor couldn’t decipher.

“I think you’re being tricky with the answer.”

Ethan chuckled.

“I’m not. Tomorrow you’ll have your first impressions on the members. It’ll be fine.”

“I suppose”—She sounded tense.

“You’ll do it great, Rookie. You had an excellent performance in your first year, and you made a diagnosis neither your boss nor your boss’s boss couldn’t make, so, that’s quite impressive. You deserve the spot.”

“That’s because I learned from the best.”

And there it was again, the silent longing in their eyes. The intense looks, the pain, the restraint. The alternated gaze between lips and eyes. It seemed like the dynamics from past months were about repeat again. Eleanor succumbing to her feelings, asking for a chance, breaking their boundaries just to have one more kiss, and lose herself in the same old lie with the same old ending. And just like before, Ethan would fall too. As if eight weeks hadn’t passed. As if the time and distance hadn't done their part.

But things had changed. He had no idea how much things had changed.

Because after what it felt an eternity, she just smiled at him shyly and then looked away from him at slow-motion speed. Or that’s how Ethan saw things in his disappointed mind.

Then she took her glass, her hand almost imperceptibly shaky, and drank the remained scotch on it.

Ethan froze for a moment, completely surprised at her reaction, and then turned to the table, sipping his drink too. His mind still was wondering why it was being so easy for her to just look away and don’t dare to kiss him. He was back after two months out and she didn’t even want to kiss him.

“Good thing you’re back just when summer is beginning, so you don’t end up freezing for changing temperatures.”

Ethan couldn’t repress the astonishment when he noticed Eleanor was using the small-talk card. They had never had small talks before. She always had something to comment, some insight to share, even something to recriminate him with. But now there was nothing of it.

Maybe it was her last resource to avoid something utterly stupid or senseless like kissing him. He couldn’t really blame her.

“Yes, glad I can catch some sun. Vitamin D has worked wonders in Naveen. But he’s too cheerful for my liking.”

“Ethan, Dr. Banerji has always been too cheerful for your liking.”

“Well, yeah, but he is annoyingly cheerful now, and summer is just beginning”

“May the Force be with you”—Eleanor joked, getting up from the bench.—“Well, I’m going home now. Tomorrow’s my first day and I have to come up as fresh as a daisy.”

Ethan smiled faintly at her.

“Goodnight Rookie, I see you tomorrow”

“Night Ethan, see ya”

#open heart #bryce lahela #ethan ramsey #choices stories you play #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #ethan x mc #ethan x casey #ethan x f!mc #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #oh choices #oh fanfic #oh #choices fanfiction #fanfic

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