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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

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IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

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Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid.

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns.

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake.

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear.

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared.

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach.

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant.

“What’s that, love?”

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas.

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week.

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot.

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home.

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’.

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by.

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression.

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window.

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything.

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh.

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps.

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.”

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him.

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him.

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.”

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...”

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littlesugarwords · 3 years

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Are requests open? If not then ignore this. But if they are open, can I request some more clem + ben content? Like he survived with her all the way to ericson (and for an added bonus; they save marlon from getting shot by aj! I hope this isn't too specific for your rules)

okay this is PRECIOUS i do love me some good clem and ben sibling content. enjoy my friend :’)

I’m so happy with this one oh my god oh my god

Clem and Ben were attached at the hip.

They had been since they left Savannah.

Even more so when Lee died.

And as the years went on, their bond only grew.

Especially once they were on their own.

Especially after Wellington.

Ben was the one who had helped step in against David at New Richmond.

Attempting to keep AJ with the two of them.

“There’s no reason he can’t stay with us.”

“There are plenty.” David snapped back.

“He’s happier here with me and Clem.”

David scoffed. “Debatable.”

Ben glared and clenched his fists.

It was the first time Clementine saw him truly angry.

Someone questioning Clem’s ability was the last straw.

No one was better for AJ than her.

She laid her life on the line for him since the moment he was born.

For no gain.

Other than keeping him alive.

Back when she was a child herself.

They’d been through it all together.

By the time they got in their wreck,

By the time they were taken into Ericson,

They saw each other as siblings.

Family.

As much so as AJ was to the both of them.

Ben was the first to wake up,

Stuck in a small room,

Alone.

Marlon and Mitch were on the opposite side of the room,

Lingering in the doorframe,

Waiting for him to wake up.

“Where are they?” He snapped, brows stressed and strained.

They could tell he was stressed.

They noted it.

“Who are you and who are they?” Marlon asked flatly.

Refusing to answer.

“Their names are Clementine and AJ, my name is Ben, and they better not be hurt.”

The two boys glanced at each other.

“Your wreck caused a few injuries.”

“None of them by us.” Mitch reiterated,

Arms crossed,

Trying to remain stoic and fierce.

Ben said nothing, only glared.

Finally Marlon sighed and rolled closer.

“We’ll bring you to them, only if you agree to cooperate.”

Ben didn’t stop glaring.

“Fine.” Was all he could say.

They did as promised.

Clementine and AJ, tucked away in a separate room, were each laying on opposing bunk beds.

Ben surged in.

“Are they okay?”

“They should be fine.” Marlon said,

Arms crossed and brow raised,

Trying to get a read on their relationship.

“Ruby, our nurse, took a look at them. And you.” He continued.

Ben turned to look at them and, finally, took them all in.

He noticed how young they were.

Very young compared to him.

“Is it just you guys here?”

“We have a team.” Mitch said flatly. “But there aren’t a lot of us.”

Ben raised a brow. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the beginning.”

Ben felt his stomach churn.

This place felt strange.

Wrong. almost.

Like something terrible had happened here once upon a time.

And, just based on that, his suspicions were confirmed.

Clementine and AJ gradually began to come to,

An the two teens left to give them space.

Ben knew someone was monitoring them in the hallway.

But didn’t care.

He checked in on the both of them,

Gathering their bearings and got ready to leave,

And the moment the whisked the door open, there stood Violet.

“Finally.” She said lowly. “We’re waiting for you outside.”

“We?” Clem asked.

Violet ignored her and started down the hall, stopping after a few paces.

“Coming?” She called.

They met the rest of the group with tension.

Awkwardly.

Especially when it came to Ben.

He was so much older than them,

And yet they had seemingly an entire society built at their young ages.

Astounding.

Ben and Clem both knew these kids were smart.

And they both knew they were worth staying with.

Even just for a while.

Marlon, their apparent leader, was hesitant.

“We’ll see about you guys staying long term,” he’d said at one point.

According to them, time would tell.

And time was.

Quickly.

Tensions were brewing between Marlon and the group.

The growing presence of nearing bandits was growing more and more dangerous.

And Clementine, very quickly, was learning all about the inner workings of their world.

Especially that fateful night in the cellar.

Ben had burst out of the school in the rain.

“Where is Clementine?” He snapped.

The other kids, attempting to shelter the firewood from the rain, paused.

“She’s missing! Where is she?” He said again.

AJ lingered behind,

Watching.

“We haven’t seen her.”

“I haven’t seen Marlon lately either.” Louis pitched in.

“Or Brody.” Aasim said,

Hugging his arms in the damp cold.

Louis’ stomach churned,

Turing to Ben with a fearful frown.

Something was very wrong.

And Marlon, rounding the corner screaming for the group’s attention, was proof of that.

Clementine ran in, covered in blood, panting and wailing.

“Clementine?” Ben breathed.

His legs almost gave out at the sight of her.

“Marlon!” She screamed. “Just tell the truth!”

Ben’s stomach was curling into knots.

Something terrible had happened here.

“Clem, what--”

“Marlon killed Brody!” Clem screamed,

Shooting her finger toward the blonde.

“She’s down in the cellar, and he tried to lock me in with her!”

Ben froze,

Turning to Marlon,

Jaw clenched and tight.

“What?” He said lowly,

Horrified.

Did he want to throw a punch? Yes.

Did he knew the chances of it landing/being effective were low? Also yes.

So he didn’t.

“She’s lying!” Marlon screamed back,

Waving his gun around,

Firmly planted in his left hand.

“She’s left down there after you attacked her!”

Marlon sneered closer,

And Clem’s heart leapt to her throat.

He wouldn’t do anything.

He wouldn’t.

She had to believe that.

But before anyone could, Ben lunged forward,

Tackling the blonde to the ground while his guard was down.

AJ gasped and jumped at the movement.

Louis, stepping in, pushed the child behind him to keep him out of harm’s way.

Marlon’s gun collapsed to the side.

“Don’t you dare.” Ben said,

Forcing him down with his knees on Marlon’s chest.

Mitch and Violet rushed forward,

Ready to help keep him controlled.

And the moment they did, Ben shakily stood,

Turning to Clementine,

Catching her stare.

Her eyes were wide,

Her hands shaking and he clothing bloody.

Rain dripped off her hat, hair, and eyelashes,

But Ben could see the scared tears lingering there.

He swept in, taking her in his arms,

Falling to the ground with her,

Sighing into her soaked hair.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Clementine grappled onto him,

Staring nervously at the sky,

Listening to AJ’s excited footsteps slap against the soggy grass.

Quickly, he was brought into their graps,

And Ben placed a thankful kiss on the top of his curly head.

“Thank God.” He sighed lowly.

The entire time, Ericson watched,

Helping calm Marlon down while keeping him detained.

Family never had anything to do with blood.

The three of them were proof of that.

And all of Ericson, knew in their heart, that they were earnest.

That they were trustworthy.

That they should be welcomed into their family.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

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volturicangetit · 4 years

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D.V/A.V/J.V/F.V- soft moments

anon: ANY OF THE VOLTURI GUARDS WITH 9, 10, 12, AND 13 FROM YOUR PROMPTS.

9 ” Vampires? God no, those fuckers can go back to the ’ Vampire Diaries ’, I’ll have a wolf. “

10 ” Fuck me. “ ” I might. “

12 ” There is blood on my new couch, my phone just broke and I’m already in big debt so, no, I won’t calm down. “.

13 ” Cool cape, mosquito boy. “

A/N: I decided to just use one prompt for every guard so yeah, because I just couldn’t choose between them. <#

DEMITRI:

A steady knock on your window pulls your attention away from your book. You look up at your left towards your window. A dark figure with two bright red eyes is staring at you. A normal person would be terrified, but not you. You have gotten to know the person as Demitri. You met him two months back when you had gotten lost in the city that you now call your home, Volterra. He had shown you around and brought you back to your house and you have stayed friends ever since. He comes by almost every night to check up on you and hang out at your place for a bit. You quickly throw the book down onto the couch you are sitting on and jump up, running to the window. You open it and Demitri silently makes his way inside. You quickly close the window behind him to prevent any more cold air from coming into your warm home. Demitri wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. His cold skin is concealed by a thick layer of clothes. His normally formal outfit of a robe and blouse is now replaced by a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. You didn't know any better than 'casual Demitri' but if any of his coven members saw him like this, it would be a culture shock. "Demi," you croak out. "Can't breath.". You give him some pats on his back so signal him to let you go. He quickly releases you from his grip and walks over to the couch before letting himself fall onto the soft furniture. His fingers run over the cotton fabric that covers it.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asks. A smile appears onto your face at the sound of his voice. God, you loved his accent. You walk over to him and grab the book that is lying beside him. He looks at the cover. "A vampire novella?" he asks. You shake your head, smacking his head with the book softly before plopping onto the couch next to him and continuing your book.

"Vampires? God no, those fuckers can go back to the ’ Vampire Diaries ’, I’ll have a wolf," you say before pointing at the white wolf printed into the cover of the book. Demitri fake pouts as he holds a hand over his heart. "Oh, how it breaks my old heart to hear that.". You know about Demitri's vampirism. You don't know the in's and out's of it but it also isn't very hard to guess judging by his red eyes and unusual clothing when you first met.

You shrug, putting the book down again. "Yeah, I don't know. At least wolves won't try to kill me," you say. You put your two pointer fingers up to your lips, making 'fangs' with them. "I want to suck yer' blood!" you say in a bad Dracula-like accent. Demitri lets out a laugh as he gives your arm a playful slap. "On a totally different note, want to watch a movie? Maybe 'Dracula'?" you ask. Demitri throws a pillow that is lying beside him at your head.

"Or 'The vampires assistant'?" you giggle as you shield yourself from the pillow. Demitri lets out a groan as lets his head fall back and rest against the couch. "Will you ever stop with those annoying vampire jokes?". You shake your head with a shit-eating grin on your lips. Demitri jumps up and holds a hand softly over your throat as he leans in closer. "I might just have to turn you then,". You swat his hand away from you and give him a small push against his chest before grabbing the remote of your television and turning it on, opening Netflix. "Yeah right, now shut up and watch 'Dracula' with me”

ALEC:

You and the other higher guards are walking over to the throne room. A trial is to be held in a couple of minutes and you're presence is requested to protect the masters from a possible lash out. You got yourself a place in the Volturi a couple of hundred years ago when Alec and Jane found you on a mission. You felt a strong pull toward Alec the moment you saw him. Marcus confirmed your suspicion when he stated that you two were indeed mates. You and Alec have been inseparable ever since. Which is why it doesn't even faze you when he suddenly runs up beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he walks with you to the throne room. "I was wondering where you were," you say as you lean into his touch.

"I am sorry, il mio amore, some new guard had gotten into some trouble," he says. You shrug, before looking in front of you again. "It's alright,". The trip to the throne room isn't very long. From behind the door, you can already hear grunts and screaming. The vampire on trial had arrived earlier and is clearly not agreeing with the masters. Alec turns you towards him to give you a kiss. Your lips connect and you melt into his touch. The moment is short-lived though since you hear the sound of the marble floor breaking. A fight. "Fuck me," you mumble under your breath as you get yourself ready to fight off the vampire. "I might," Alec growls into your ear.

You push him off you with a smile. "Maybe if you walk me with the wanker," you say as you point towards the dark oak doors. Alec nods as he walks out in front of you and throws the doors open. He looks over his shoulder and sends a wink your way before using his speed to run towards the angry vampire. Cheeky fucker.

JANE:

You are annoyed. No, angry. Your day had already been shitty. You missed your bus so you had to walk to work through the pouring rain. Your feet have been killing you since you woke up and your boss yelled at you for coming late. Now, when you finally got home, you find your best friend Jane on your now blood-stained couch with your neighbour lying dead beside her. You got so scared from the sight that you let your phone fall on the ground, causing the screen to break. "What the fuck, Jane? What the actual, royal fuck!" you scream at her as you run over to her to check if she's okay. She slaps away your hand tiredly. "I didn't get to drink in some time, I'm sorry," she says as wipes the remainders of blood from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. You shake your head as you sprint to your kitchen to get a damp cloth in an effort to safe your ruined couch.

"I got that you have to drink blood and shit, but why the fuck do you need to use my neighbour for that? He's kind, well was, thanks to you," your tone is pointed as you crouch down in front of the couch and to scrub the still fresh blood away. "He was only human," Jane shrugs as she gets up from her position on the floor. She uses her speed to run over to the kitchen and grab herself a cloth as well and starts to help you with the couch.

"Only human? What the fuck is wrong with being human?" you yell. She places a hand on your shoulder which you quickly shrug off. "Jesus, calm down,". You shake your head and throw your cloth at her head. "There is blood on my new couch, my phone just broke and I’m already in big debt so, no, I won’t calm down,". You stand up and starts to walk in circles around your living room. Everything was becoming a bit too much. Jane quickly sees the seriousness of the issues and walks over to you, pulling you into a hug to make you stand still. You break down in her arms, letting the tears that have been building up all day finally fall from your eyes. Jane rubs soft circles on your back with one hand as the others softly pet your head.

"It is going to be alright," she says in a soft voice. " I'll take care of your financials and replace your couch. Vampire money, remember?" she says. You laugh through your tears as you hear her use your term for the insane amount of money the Volturi and its members have build up over time. You nod, wrapping your arms around her small form. "It is going to be alright, I am here for you.”

FELIX:

You are the newest and youngest member of the Volturi, having only been turned three years ago and joining them only a year into your 'second life'. The Volturi normal didn't have such young members but they changed that when Aro saw you using your gift in one of Alice's visions. The age gap between you and the rest is like an elephant in the room. Not only did you dress very different from them, but your vocabulary is also vastly different. You have been getting along with Felix because of this. You are like a breath of fresh air in his dead lungs. "Hey, beefcake!" Felix hears you call out. You have given him that nickname since the moment you met him, and he would be lying is he said it didn't bring a smile to his face. He turns around, looking down at you. "What cracka-lacking, old man?" you say. He tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"Cracka-lacking?" he asks with a smile on his face. You nod. "Yeah, like, what's up?". He nods, shrugs his shoulder before pointing over his shoulder, notifying you on what direction to go. He continues his walk and you follow him. " Not a lot, I have to bring a message to the secretary,".

You wipe some fake sweat of your forehead. "Pf, glad I showed up. You would have given her a heart attack, homie.". He frowns his forehead as he looks at you. "I can't help how fragile human hearts are," he says in a deep tone. You shake your head and give his arm a soft slap.

"Hearts are not fragile, you're just really fucking scary," you say. "Like a big bear. A big blood-sucking bear,". Felix rolls his eyes at your words as you near the secretary. Panic fills her eyes as she spots Felix but that leaves the moment she sees you. You send her a thumbs-up as you run over to her desk, sitting down into it. "Hi, what's popping?" you ask as you two do your handshake. You created a handshake with her as you spent most of your day with her. Not only was it good to be around her to gain more self-control, but since you are still very new to the vampire world you relate to her the most. "Sto bene, grazie," she says. She doesn't know much English, which is why you are teaching her some and she is teaching you Italian. Felix hands a small note he has been holding to her. She quickly reads through it before sending him a smile. She grabs a package from under her desk and hands it to him. "New clothes," she says in a thick accent.

Felix rips the brown bag of the piece of clothing. A robe. He wraps it around his shoulders to see if it fits. "Cool cape, mosquito boy," you say, earning a laugh from the secretary. "I am as much of a mosquito as you are," he says. You nod your head at him as you jump off the desk, spotting Alec at the end of the hall and walking towards him. "Sounds like something a mosquito would say," you say with a laugh before calling out to Alec.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie @thanossexual @prettyinblack231 @cullens-stuff @rexburn12 @kpopgirlbtssvt

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 46

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The Thunderpath was the last barrier between Talltail and home. It was dark, and there were no monsters in sight, but the steps across were the longest and most nerve wracking of his life. At last, with a nudge from Jake when he hesitated on the last tail-length of stone, his toes touched heather wet with dew from the late greenleaf rain. He stopped and breathed in, his jaws open to drink in the taste of the moor. The gorse, the bracken, the soil. Home. Relief and a sudden unexpected giddiness hit him all at once and Talltail found himself bounding forward, streaking across the grass as fast as he could just to remember what it felt like. He knew exactly where he was, coming down the farthest edge of Swift-Step Hills, the downward momentum letting him remember that feeling of flying. He remembered this trail, and the bramble patches and scattered stones he passed. After so long of unknown land, bewilderment, at last… He felt right. Whatever part of him had worried that maybe he would be too changed to ever feel as he once had so long ago was quickly swept up and blown away in an instant. He wanted to let out an excited yowl, and might have if he didn’t suddenly remember that he had no idea how a WindClan patrol would receive him if he accidentally barreled into one. In his mad dash, he’d also nearly forgotten that he needed to circle back so as to not leave Jake in the dirt. Jake was waiting with a fond gleam in his eyes as he trotted, a little more clumsy on the steeper slopes, down the hill after Talltail.

“I was worried you’d just take off entirely,” Jake said.

“Sorry. I just needed to...needed to...you know?” Jake headbutted his shoulder gently. “Yeah, I know.”

Talltail shook himself. He did need to get his head on straight. Tonight could go very badly, but he needed to allow himself that brief moment of joy before the intense fur prickling anxiety set back in. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. A patrol? That would surely be better than waltzing into camp, but...how much better would depend heavily on who was on the patrol.

What he wasn’t expecting was a lone cat scouting the moor with no other patrol in sight. Whatever he’d been hoping for...it certainly was not what he saw.

Talltail froze mid step as he was suddenly aware of a shocked pair of sharp yellow eyes meeting his from within the heath, before the cat they belonged to slowly rose up. Shrewclaw stood alone half way down the hill, staring up at Talltail and seemingly just as frozen to the spot.

The stars clearly weren’t ready to forgive him just yet.

Talltail wasn’t sure how he expected Shrewclaw to react. Shrewclaw, who out of every living cat in the clan, he would have been the most certain unabashedly hated him. A warning snarl perhaps, or a taunting ‘so you think you can come crawling back, huh?’

What he didn’t expect was the expression on Shrewclaw’s face to shift from stunned shock to something that might have resembled...relief. Seeing a positive emotion on Shrewclaw’s face was odd enough on the best of days, but now, Talltail didn’t know what to make of it.

His old rival took several careful steps towards him. “Talltail? Is that...you?”

Talltail wasn’t sure how to reply, and then Shrewclaw was right in front of him.

“You’re alive,” Shrewclaw said stiffly. Talltail couldn’t make out what the tone of his voice meant. It was not quite aggressive, but not quite welcoming either. “We all thought...at least, most of us thought for sure you were dead, w-what--? Why--?”

“I, um,” Talltail stuttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this must look to you, but I-I need to speak with the clan.”

To his further surprise, Shrewclaw stepped forward and touched his nose, hesitantly. Talltail realized with a start Shrewclaw had to lean up to do so. Have I really grown since I left? Or maybe he got shorter...

Shrewclaw took an awkward step back. “I thought you might be a ghost, just...checking.”

“You thought what?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t believe you’re here again I'm--I’m sorry.”

“Y...you’re sorry?”

“Yeah, I mean-- It wasn’t fair--I didn’t mean anything I said--Well...no, maybe I meant some of it, but not the worst stuff, you know? I thought it was my fault. It’s been such a mess since you left, and I thought I’d never get to...just...I’m sorry, ok?”

Talltail just stared. What was he looking at? Who was this cat and what had they done with Shrewclaw? Where was the unstable angry tom who would sooner drop dead than apologize for anything? What else has changed while I was gone?

Before he could ask Shrewclaw to elaborate, the tom perked up. “By StarClan! You need to get your stupid tail back to camp right now, everyone won’t believe it...Dawnstripe, and Woollycloud and--Ugh you have the worst possible timing, with everyone riled up about ShadowClan!”

“Weren’t we already riled up about ShadowClan?”

“Yes, but it got better for a bit, and then it got way way worse!” Shrewclaw growled. “And now you have the nerve to just pop back up!? We need to go, it’s not safe in this part of the territory without a full patrol right now.”

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “You’re out here without a full patrol?”

Shrewclaw glared. “Yeah, well, mind your own business.”

Well that sounded a bit more like the Shrewclaw he remembered.

Talltail looked over his shoulder at Jake, not far behind him, and gulped. This is what he got for not making a clear plan for this moment. “R-right, you’re right we should go, but I have uh. I have a... friend? He’s the reason I could come back, and I want him to stay with me.”

Shrewclaw looked behind him and his fur bristled a bit on sight at the orange kittypet, who gave him an awkward wave of the tail.

“Hello!” Jake called and promptly let out a huge sneeze when the grass he was hiding in went up his nose.

Shrewclaw blinked. “I… really don’t have time to argue with you about this. Whatever, fine, let's just go! I have to tell Briar.”

Talltail looked back at Jake and nodded, though he couldn’t hide his uncertainty about this situation. But no matter what, there was no going back now. He was being brought right back into camp...and he would have a lot of explaining to do. Jake stayed close beside as they ran at a steady pace through the eastern fields, up towards Outlook Hill overlooking WindClan’s camp. Talltail’s heart thudded louder than ever in his ears with each step closer to home.

They hadn’t run long when he spotted Briarpaw, bounding across the heather toward them. Had they already been seen? Shrewclaw scooted by him and said “I’ll let everyone know,” and kept going. The nervous bird fluttering in Talltail’s chest was now having a full-blown panicked fit, but his eyes were brought back to Briarpaw’s too quickly to think as the medicine cat reached him and headbutted into Talltail’s chest so hard he was almost knocked backward. Talltail was stunned for a moment while Briarpaw pressed his muzzle against his chin.

“Talltail! Talltail, you came home! You’re ok!”

Talltail, hesitantly at first, leaned into his old friend, and for a few moments just remained there remembering his familiar scent and gentle purr.

“You're really home…” Briarpaw breathed.

“Briarpaw I...I’m sorry I left so fast. I’ve missed you.”

There wasn’t a trace of anger on his face, he simply corrected. “Briarface.”

Talltail blinked in surprise “R-really? You already got your medicine cat name?”

Briarface ducked his head almost bashfully “I’ve had a lot of time to focus on honing my skills. It kept me busy. I only got it a quarter moon ago, actually.”

“That’s...great! Congratulations, really.” Talltail couldn’t help but feel the moment was bittersweet. Briarface had been so nervous about getting his name, afraid he wouldn’t get it at all at one point, unsure of his talent. I wanted to be there when he did… he thought sadly. He and Shrewclaw had planned a celebration for it once. It was one of the only things they agreed on. But then, that was before everything had gone so wrong. He shook the pangs of regret from his head. He couldn’t change what he’d done, he could only do better now. Briarface pressed his nose to Talltail’s.

“I’m glad you're here now,” he mewed, as if he knew Talltail’s worries. He probably did. Briarface’s golden eyes drifted past Talltail to rest on the bright ginger tabby sitting half crouched among the moor grass. Jake looked as if he couldn’t decide if he should hide, come forward, or simply wait, and was stuck in the middle of all three, awkwardly shuffling his paws as Talltail greeted his oldest friend. Talltail waved him forward with his tail and immediately Jake perked up at the invitation and trotted forward in the usually warm manner. He stopped short a tail length away and hastily dipped his head, clearly barely remembering the clan's custom greeting.

“Uh, ‘evening!” he mewed.

“You must be Jake?” Briarface purred. Talltail wondered briefly if he had told Briarface Jake’s name, but then, he had apparently seen Talltail with him moons ago when they were young. He felt a rush of relief at Briarface’s lack of suspicion. Jake surely still carried traces of twoleg scent, but Briarface didn’t recoil or comment on who this strange outsider Talltail traveled with was at all.

Talltail turned to Jake, “this is Briarface. He’s been a dear friend of mine since I was a kitten.” If only I had always treated him as such… he added silently.

Briarface dipped his head politely to the orange tom “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jake lifted his head and blinked at the medicine cat. “You’re Briarface?” he mewed seeming in thought for a moment “Huh...Well, you are pretty.”

Briarface blinked. “Uhm...Thank you?”

Talltail cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway...Jake is my close...friend. A lot more than that really--er. W-We’ve been through a lot together and...”

“Yes, I can tell. Well any friend of yours will be welcome, I’m sure.” Briarface purred with amusement. “I’m sure you’ve come a long way, but I'm afraid there isn’t much time for rest. Come on, let's not keep anyone waiting.”

Briarface seemed so confident about the idea. Even so, Talltail expected some kind of anger when he got back, after the way he left. The more he thought about it, the more deeply ashamed he was for it. If they were furious, they had a right to be. He heard loud voices from over the crest of the camp's border, and Talltail followed Briarface down achingly familiar paths, his paws falling so naturally into pawprints he’d walked for so long. Like he’d never left at all. But I did, he reminded himself And I have no idea what will happen now.

Then they were there, cresting the slope leading into camp and there was no more time left to worry. Within a heartbeat, Dawnstripe had tackled him to the ground even harder than Briarface had, with Woollycloud at her heels. He saw the familiar forms of the siblings Fallowspring, Ryewhisker and Fawnleap. Shrewclaw followed behind, and Talltail was surrounded. He could hardly think through their purrs and questions as everyone tried to touch noses with him at once, some a little too hard in their haste.

“You’re alive!” Woollycloud sobbed

“Where have you been?” Dawnstripe cried,

“Are you hurt?” Ryewhisker asked

“I-I’m sorry,” was all Talltail could choke out. “I’ll try to explain as...as best I can.” Where would he start?

Fawnleap paused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Hey...are you taller than me now?” he cried, almost sounding offended.

“What? I uh--? Don’t know?” Talltail stuttered. He couldn’t think of what else to say amidst all the chaos.

“You do look different. Your journey has changed you,” Briarface added with a glint in his eye.

“O shut up Fawnleap, you flea-brain,” Fallowspring said, “There are way more important matters here. Like who in StarClan is that?” She gestured over at Jake, who grinned sheepishly in return.

“He’s my er--companion, he helped me back home,” Talltail said quickly. He hardly knew what to do with himself or where to start. It was hard to imagine he’d gone so long alone, forgetting the feeling of having so many others around him. He didn’t realize how much he had missed the security, the feeling of surety of being surrounded with so many trusted cats. He wanted to answer everyone’s questions, they certainly had plenty, but his voice was failing him.

Dawnstripe was pressing her forehead into his. “I’m extremely cross with you, Talltail,” she said, although she didn’t sound particularly cross.

There really had been no way to know what he would find upon returning. He feared that he would be met with scorn, with the others turning their backs on him for his actions. And there certainly were a couple cats that looked genuinely cross, but... not necessarily hostile. Mostly, there were looks of amazement and relief--even joy. He could have toppled over in relief having that sudden fear swept away. Maybe they really did want him home as much as he wanted to be here.

“Everyone,” Talltail started, trying, and failing, to keep his voice from cracking. “I really wish could explain now, b-but I think I should speak to Heatherstar--”

“Yes, I think you should.” Heatherstar’s sharp commanding voice cutting through the crowd had everyone awkwardly shuffling back, parting for their leader as she strode towards Talltail with narrowed stormy eyes. Talltail dipped his head low at her approach.

“A convenient time for you to appear in our midst again,” Heatherstar said coldly. “You have very poor timing--or perhaps it’s lucky timing for you, considering we have no time to properly sort out what should be done about the desertion act you pulled.”

“You have every right to be angry with me Heatherstar,” Talltail began, still struggling to look her in the eye.

“I know I do. Your clan thought you were dead. I sent patrols out past the borders looking for you, only to find you’d simply left.” Then her voice softened, ever so slightly, to his surprise as she added, “but I am glad to see you are alive.”

Talltail stiffened as her eyes drifted behind him, surely resting on the strange orange kittypet sitting politely back a couple fox-lengths. Her face instantly hardened again, shifting her questioning glare back at Talltail. He cleared his throat and stumbled through the briefest, least awkward, explanation he could manage about meeting the kittypet, and how Jake helped him get home, and that he was very...important. She was still glaring when he finished, and Talltail felt flushing heat under his pelt while he went back to avoiding her gaze.

Eventually she let out a very slow, very exasperated sigh. “Talltail, for StarClan’s sake...” Talltail winced at how transparent he was being. Someone in the crowd snickered. Heatherstar closed her eyes in frustration, seemingly talking half to herself. “You are making your case harder by the second. You had to bring an outsider home with you now of all times?”

“He’s not just--I wouldn’t have made it home at all without him. He wanted to make sure I was ok. I-I promise we were very careful to give ShadowClan territory a wide berth.” Talltail stuttered.

“I almost wonder if you’ve planned this out. I wouldn’t feel comfortable kicking you out now when there's a chance you could be seen by them, even if I wanted to. We do not need to be seen with a kittypet on our land after all the ridiculous accusations we’ve been faced with these past moons!”

“T-that wasn’t my intent--” Talltail started.

She swished her tail dismissively. “What was your intent then? You disappeared for nearly two moons. Why have you returned now?

“I came because I was worried. And I...I am ashamed of how I left. I want to make it up to you. If you will let me. I heard trouble was coming and I couldn’t stand to be away any longer.”

She gave a curt nod. “Yes, well, I certainly wouldn’t say it’s been peaceful. We've dealt with multiple border skirmishes and a lot of unpleasant arguments and gatherings. I can’t understand how all of this lying and turmoil is worth a small spot of land for ShadowClan.”

“It's possible they aren't making up lies exactly,” Talltail said. “I think we’ve been set up. There’s a lot I learned that you might want to hear.”

After a long pause of consideration, Heatherstar waved the clan away. “You may speak to me privately. But your companion is going to remain under watch”

Talltail wanted to protest. Jake had never been in a place like this, surrounded by so many strange cats who were giving him sideways glances or wrinkling their noses at his collar.

Luckily, Briarface quickly stepped forward and whispered to him, “I’ll look after Jake, don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Talltail gave one last look behind him before he followed Heatherstar, but Jake just blinked back at him with a small shrug before following Briarface away from the center of the staring crowd. Thank the stars Jake was so resilient.

Once in her den, Talltail told Heatherstar all he could of what he had found, that ShadowClan had discovered their abandoned tunneling project and saw it as a threat, and that since then a lone bunch of young ShadowClan cats had enlisted the help of a rogue through threats to purposely cause trouble between them. She seemed reluctant when he mentioned Sparrow, but something in his eyes must have convinced her he was not making wild accusations out of grief or anger this time.

“I spoke to Sparrow, and to ShadowClan’s medicine cat. Sparrow and the rest of his family are free from them now, and I doubt he intends to return to clan territory ever again. ShadowClan may intend to retaliate...soon, but only because they have been fed so much false information.”

He hesitated to say ShadowClan was possibly planning an attack on the new moon, two days from then. He desperately didn’t want Heatherstar to react by saying ‘then we must immediately launch an attack first’. There was a chance that Ratfang would succeed in talking her leader down from the idea. She wanted to prevent a battle, and she must have been desperate to put so much trust in a potential enemy. Talltail wanted to at least try making good on that trust. There could still be time.

Heatherstar furrowed her brow slightly. “I admit that would explain where the accusations came from. But even if what you say is true, that certain cats acting alone wanted to set our clans at each other...knowing that may not be enough to fix anything. I know at least one ShadowClan warrior has died from infected battle wounds as a result of these skirmishes, and the lot of them have been even more hostile since. Meanwhile, our clan has still been insulted and harassed on our border for moons, that is very real, and Brackenwing’s death is fresh in our minds. Even if these deaths were accidental casualties of battle, they happened all the same...Not to mention, if what you say is true, then ShadowClan was likely indirectly responsible for Sandstone’s death as well--and that particular invasion was under Cedarstar’s orders. Knowing that, you still want to see if we can resolve this?”

Talltail swallowed. “I do. If I thought retaliation would bring us peace, I would feel different. But I cannot in good conscience chase that drive for vengeance against them, especially when the cause will be playing into a treacherous cat's desires. You know this could spiral into an endless on and off war, and we are approaching the cold seasons. I just...I don’t want to lose anyone else. I will help defend us at all costs if we are left with no choice, but if we have a choice...”

Heatherstar regarded him quietly for a moment. “I would prefer to avoid seasons long hostilities as well. I will send a messenger and request a meeting, since there is reason to believe peace will not wait until the next gathering. But keep in mind, since this is happening on a night when the full moon doesn’t protect us, it may end in a battle if ShadowClan does not believe us, and especially if they refuse to give up their push to expand the borders. They may wish to protect the honor of their own, even if their own have broken the code, at any cost. If they agree to a meeting, I suspect Cedarstar will bring his warriors, and so will we. If it comes to violence despite our efforts, your first step in proving yourself to your clan again, if that is your goal, will be to fight beside us.”

“I will. Always.” Talltail hoped she heard the conviction in his voice. A meeting with a battle patrol worth of warriors wasn’t the most hopeful scenario. But it was the best he could do.

***

Heatherstar announced to the clan her intentions to mixed mutterings and confusion. WindClan would send their messenger, and knowing ShadowClan, they would have patrols waiting nearby the border. They would make one last attempt at peace, but go in prepared for a fight.

“Why are we talking at all?” Shrewclaw hissed, casting a fierce glare at Talltail. Talltail stubbornly flattened his ears. There was the old angry tom he remembered. Whatever may have changed about Shrewclaw, this topic made it clear that old resentment built seasons ago when Brackenwing died was still there, burning away hot as ever. “You haven’t been here to see what they’ve been doing. This is a waste of time, violence is the only language ShadowClan understands. We have to make them regret ever setting paws under the Thunderpath tunnel to ensure they won’t dare try again!”

“I just think if one decisive battle was enough to fix things, the clans would have stopped fighting ages ago.” Talltail said evenly.

It was torment waiting around to hear back from the messenger. More than anything, Talltail wanted to sit with his old friends and hear about their lives, what had changed, if they were doing well. But there wasn’t time for that yet. Additionally, many cats were still looking at Talltail and Jake curiously, some a bit suspiciously. Perhaps they thought Heatherstar was letting him back in too easily. Honestly, Talltail wondered that as well. Heatherstar had been vague about what she planned to do with him, and about the outsider he had brought back. It seemed she wanted to deal with one big problem at a time, and any cat could see Jake wasn’t the most important threat around at the moment.

Talltail was arguing with himself over whether it was a mistake to allow Jake to come into this mess. He didn’t think anyone would hurt Jake, but it was true that coming back with a kittypet really wasn't helping his case to be smoothly accepted back. Strong relationships with any outsider was frowned upon, and kittypets even more so than the average rogue. But Jake was worth that risk. Talltail wasn’t ashamed of him. Imagine how furious Sandstone would be if he were here to see it, some petty part of him whispered. The thought, surprisingly, was almost funny now.

Maybe bringing Jake here was for selfish reasons, as having him nearby made Talltail feel braver, and he needed all the bravery he could get right now. To Talltail’s relief, Jake was still just sitting around amiably, clearly not frightened at all. He didn’t let himself get ruffled, even by the occasional hostile glance. He grinned and nodded a greeting to everyone he saw.

“I know you care about these cats, so I may as well try to make a good impression,” he said to Talltail. A cat could get used to anything, Jake had said once. Even all this.

Eventually Cloudrunner returned with the message, and ShadowClan, to everyone’s surprise, accepted the meeting immediately. Talltail thought they might at least wait a while, he’d been hoping for more time to settle his nerves and just get used to being back in WindClan’s camp again after so long. But he couldn’t relax until this matter was solved. Many cats were suspicious, and they had a right to be. Heatherstar was clearly prepared for an ambush. He just hoped she was also prepared to sort this out without claws. If they could.

“Our medicine cats will be on standby in case.” Heatherstar announced, not even bothering to call a meeting as everyone was already anxiously gathered. “Reedfeather will put together the patrol. Only a select few will meet, while the rest of you will wait nearby and listen for the signal if things go wrong.”

As those chosen for the patrol were preparing to leave, Briarface nudged Talltail gently. “It will be alright. And no one will harm your friend here, he’ll be safe.” Although his words were reassuring, that old cloud of worry marred his expression. Perhaps the medicine cat was trying to convince himself. “Be careful tonight, Talltail. I hope you can help us. Whatever happens...have faith in yourself.”

Before Talltail could leave camp, Jake was running up behind him. “B-But...Are you really telling me to stay behind again?” he demanded.

“I know you don’t want to,” Talltail whispered to him, “But I have to insist this time. I can’t afford to disobey orders right now. Heatherstar is not happy as it is and you haven’t been trained to fight clan warriors in the event something happens with ShadowClan! If an outsider is seen in battle, the accusations could start all over again.”

“I’ll watch over your friend,” Fallowspring offered “I have to stay in camp. I’ll at least make sure Whitetooth doesn’t bite his nose off.”

“But--!” Jake protested.

Talltail pressed his nose to Jake’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Fallowspring’s a good cat, don’t worry.”

Fallowspring nodded, but she looked weary. Talltail could see she had remnants of cobweb on her hindleg covering a wound, probably from a more recent border skirmish that looked painful to walk on. Of course, there was nothing else that would keep her from joining the battle patrol. She looked after the patrol with some frustration, and worry. It wasn’t hard to guess she was probably looking after Shrewclaw, who was already about to run on ahead.

Fallowspring gave Talltail a long look, and said quietly, “as thanks...Try to make sure some cat keeps Shrewclaw from doing something mouse-brained. If you can.”

Talltail nodded slowly “I will but...I would have thought you’d be on board with him?”

“I don’t know...I might have been once. But now my siblings and mate are all on a battle patrol without me, and I can’t do anything to help. I just don’t want any more blood to be spilled on that border. I care so much about him, but I can’t make him listen.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Talltail said, before leaving to catch up to Heatherstar, feeling Jake and Fallowspring’s anxious eyes on his back as he went.

Talltail sent a silent prayer up to the stars peeking out in the pitch dark sky. He could only hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

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#FRU46 #chapter 46

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures past pt4 / On AO3

Because his new friend isn't free, Nie Huaisang must spend time with Lan Xichen instead

Through some sort of miracle, Nie Huaisang managed to not get into any trouble for the second day in a row, mostly because Jin Zixun was still the problematic student of the moment. He really had a very unpleasant personality, that one, but with some of the rumours going around about him it wasn’t such a surprise. If even just one or two pieces of gossip that Nie Huaisang had heard were true… well, he wouldn’t have wanted to be in Jin Zixun’s shoes, for sure, but he also understood why he was like that. For someone in that position, the only options were to act important at any cost, or to make it clear one wasn’t a threat to anyone. Jin Zixun had made his choice, just like Nie Huaisang had.

But on that fine afternoon, Nie Huaisang wasn’t in a mood to think about Jin Zixun, except to silently thank him for attracting all of the teacher's annoyance to himself. Because Nie Huaisang, as it happened, had plans for the free time he had until dinner.

Having excused himself toward the other Nie disciples who didn't much care what he did anyway, Nie Huaisang headed toward the training grounds where he found a group of Lan disciples sparring in pairs. Normally he would have found such a display of excellence boring at best, depressing at worst, but for once Nie Huaisang watched with sincere interest. His eyes jumped from one pair to the other, until at last he found the person he was looking for.

Su She was sparring with a boy a little shorter than him, and who looked slightly younger as well. Watching him like this, Nie Huaisang realised that his new friend hadn't lied the previous afternoon: he was clearly less at ease with an audience, and made a few mistakes here and there that got him scolded. He was still a better swordsman than Nie Huaisang would ever care to be, though, and clearly determined to continue improving.

After a while, there was a lull in the lesson so everyone could catch their breath. Nie Huaisang saw his chance, and waved his arm high about his head to catch his new friend's attention.

"Su-xiong!" he shouted, attracting more than just Su She's notice. "Su-xiong, hi!"

Su She's face scrunched into a funny expression upon being hollered at that way, but he walked the distance to the edge of the training grounds, pretending not to notice how his fellow Lan disciples stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"So Nie gongzi really came," Su She said after quickly bowing to greet the other boy. "I thought you were just being polite yesterday."

"If I knew how to be polite, I wouldn't need to be studying here. Are you done here? Do you have other classes after?"

"Well…"

"Because you said you let me hear you play music, remember?"

Su She grimaced, a spot of colour rising to his cheeks as he glanced behind. Some of the boys in his group were preparing to leave the training grounds, but five of them looked as if they were going to stay behind.

"Laoshi said I didn't perform well," Su She muttered. "So I have to practice some more. I'm very grateful for laoshi spending time on us less skilled students, of course. But I doubt I'll have any free time today, Nie gongzi."

"Don't call me gongzi, it's awkward," Nie Huaisang complained, poking him in the shoulder. "We're friends now, so you can be more familiar than that. Right, Su-xiong?”

“It would be inappropriate,” Su She muttered, glancing at the leaving disciple who passed them by and kept throwing them curious looks. “Nie gongzi is the brother of a highly respected sect leader, I could not dare…”

“Nonsense! Come on, try calling me ‘Nie-xiong’! There’s really no need for formality. Isn’t there a rule about equality between friends?”

Su She shifted uncomfortably, while some of those other Lan disciples walking by were now sneering.

“We’re not friends,” Su She said. “We just met yesterday.”

At some other time, Nie Huaisang would have accepted that rejection. He was stupid, yes, but not completely devoid of good sense, and too lazy to pursue anyone who didn’t want him around. But he also didn’t like the way those other Lan boys looked at the two of them, as if they thought it stupid that anyone should even talk to Su She.

Nie Huaisang was very lazy, but that was nothing compared to how petty he could be.

“If we’re not friends yet, I’m sure we can become so,” he announced, a touch louder than truly necessary. “I really had fun with you yesterday, and I think you’re very interesting. Please, Su-xiong, give me a chance?”

Su She’s face went through a whole range of emotion, from suspicion to something that might have been gratefulness, before he nodded a little shyly.

“If… If Nie-xiong insists then… then this humble one is honoured by that offer of friendship.”

Nie Huaisang beamed.

“I still can’t spend time with Nie-xiong today, though.”

Nie Huaisang’s smile fell. His whole plan for the afternoon had been to spend time with his new friend. He’d wanted to make Su She play music for him, chat a little, and see if the other boy could be convinced to help him with his homework, since he’d been ignoring a mounting pile of those and was bound to get in trouble sooner rather than later. Jin Zixun wasn’t going to attract all the trouble to himself for ever, and Lan Qiren was going to be done with his other duties soon.

“I guess I’ll have to find something else to do,” Nie Huaisang sighed, glancing around for an idea. To his surprise, he spotted Lan Xichen not very far, who was looking in their direction with an unreadable expression. Nie Huaisang grimaced, and sighed again. “Well, there’s always that, I guess. If Su-xiong really isn’t available, I guess Lan gongzi will have to do… I probably need to apologise for yesterday, anyway.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “You… You’d rather spend time with me than him, really?”

“Sure,” Nie Huaisang distractedly said, already trying to figure out what he’d tell Lan Xichen. “You’re more fun, and by far. Listen, I’m leaving for now, but let’s try to meet again. Come find me after my classes if you happen to be free, alright? And I’ll try to look for you as well.”

Su She promised and shared some of his schedule for the coming days before his teacher called him back to the lesson at hand. Nie Huaisang then had no choice but to wave at Lan Xichen who nodded at him, and dragged his feet to the older boy, cursing his future self and his stupid brother for forcing the acquaintance on him.

“Good afternoon, Nie gongzi,” Lan Xichen greeted him. “How surprising to find you here. Did you have any business on the training grounds?”

“I came to see a friend,” Nie Huaisang explained, pointing at Su She. “But he’s busy, in the end.”

“You came to see Su She?” Lan Xichen asked in an odd tone.

“I met him yesterday, he’s good fun.” Remembering what else had happened the previous day, Nie Huaisang grimaced and bowed to the older boy. “Speaking of that, I’m sorry for what happened then. I was very rude, and I’m very sorry. You’re not the sort of person that tricks others, so it was wrong of me to accuse you of that.”

“Did you meet Su She after you ran away?” Lan Xichen insisted.

Something in his frown, when he usually looked as placid as a water buffalo no matter what went on, rubbed Nie Huaisang the wrong way. It was already a little annoying that other Lan disciples clearly didn’t hold Su She in very high regard, but that was not so unexpected. They might be from Gusu Lan, people were still people, and no amount of rules could stop teenagers from turning on whoever they thought they could bully without consequences. Su She, with his personality and slightly lesser skill, was an easy target for whoever wanted to feel superior. It only made sense, because people were like that.

But Lan Xichen wasn’t just people, he was the First Jade of Gusu Lan, praised by everyone for his good personality, and he really had no business saying Su She’s name in that particular tone, as if those two syllables might dirty his mouth.

“Yes, I stumbled onto him after leaving you,” Nie Huaisang confirmed. “And then we chatted a lot, and I think we get along fine, so I hope we can be really friends. Does Lan gongzi have a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen lied, which Nie Huaisang could tell because the older boy was immensely bad at lying, his cheeks all flushed, his hands trembling. “I am very glad that Nie gongzi is… making the best of his time here. I’m sure… well. I’m sure you wouldn’t bestow your friendship onto someone unworthy.”

He absolutely thought that Nie Huaisang was stupid and would hang out with the wrong crowd, that much was clear.

If Nie Huaisang hadn’t promised his future self that he’d make an effort to get along with Lan Xichen, he would have left and found some other way to spend his afternoon. But this was for Nie Mingjue, who was going to die if Nie Huaisang didn’t behave himself.

For the sake of his brother, Nie Huaisang could put up with someone unpleasant here and there, right?

“So, about yesterday, would you still show me that good spot for painting?” Nie Huaisang asked. “I’m really, really sorry for reacting the way I did, I swear.”

Lan Xichen blinked a few times like a startled owl, and gazed a long moment at Nie Huaisang, his expression quite serious.

“Nie gongzi needs not apologise,” he said. “I understand how you might have misunderstood my intentions. After all, we have hardly ever spoken before, and Nie gongzi has no reason to trust me. I hope I can change that over time. Since your brother is dear to me, I hope the two of us can also learn to get along. It would be nice if we could all three rely on one another, right?”

“Sure,” Nie Huaisang said, a little puzzled. “Anyway, that place for painting?”

Lan Xichen pinched his lips, and looked up at the sky. “I fear there is a chance it might rain,” he said. “Today would not be right for it. Another time though…”

“Damn, then I’m back to square one,” Nie Huaisang muttered. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do until dinner, how boring.”

“Don’t you have homework?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. He crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

“I do, but that’s even more boring than not doing anything. And anyway, I don’t really understand what it’s about, so it’s pointless. I guess I’ll just go hang out in the library and see if I can find something fun to read.”

“Or else,” Lan Xichen started, before pinching his lips again. “But no, I don’t suppose that would interest you.”

“Tell me anyway. I am so bored, I’ll at least consider anything.”

Lan Xichen, again, gave him a long hard look, as if trying to understand something about him.

“Nie gongzi, I have some work to be doing right now, but I wouldn’t mind having company,” Lan Xichen offered. “We can go pick up your homework, too, and that way if you have questions I can help you with them. Would that interest you?”

It absolutely didn’t interest Nie Huaisang. The only thing worse than doing homework or spending time with Lan Xichen was dealing with both at the same time. Even for Nie Mingjue’s sake, he wasn’t sure he could put up with such torture.

Hopefully, his brother might be properly grateful for his efforts someday.

He probably wouldn’t be.

Still, Nie Huaisang made himself smile and said: “Sure, why not try that!” with enough fake enthusiasm that Lan Xichen didn’t question him.

Having decided on this course of action, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen headed for the cabin where the Nie disciples resided, so Nie Huaisang could grab some of the assignments he’d been given. They then walked silently toward the house Lan Xichen shared with his uncle and brother, both of which happened to be absent at the moment. Lan Qiren was busy leading his brother’s sect, while Lan Wangji was overseeing the punishment of some other juniors. Neither of those two were particularly dear to Nie Huaisang, but he'd have preferred not being alone with Lan Xichen.

While Lan Xichen prepared some tea, Nie Huaisang took the liberty of looking around the house. It was decorated in a simple but elegant manner, everything speaking of great taste and refinement, like the rest of the Cloud Recesses. It was a shame the Lan were so boring, because they had an amazing sense of beauty which appealed to Nie Huaisang. He would have loved to live in a house like this one, where aesthetics weren’t sacrificed to practicality like at home, where people could dress like scholars without getting yelled at because long sleeves weren’t good for fighting. There was an air of calm to the Cloud Recesses that appealed to him, and it was really too bad that the people who actually got to live there always looked like they didn’t properly appreciate the beauty of that place.

Adding to that feeling of near perfection, the tea Lan Xichen served was exquisite, light and easy on the tongue, perfectly refreshing and just the thing Nie Huaisang needed after a long day of ignoring lessons and repeated disappointments. If only the company had been better, he would have been delighted.

“I’m going to start working,” Lan Xichen announced, placing an ancient looking scroll on the table, next to some fresh paper and an inkstone. “But please do not hesitate to interrupt me if you have questions. I would really be happy to help.”

“Lan gongzi is too kind. I will try hard to not be too much of a bother, but I am grateful for the offer.”

Lan Xichen offered Nie Huaisang a strained smile, then started whatever work he had to do. Nie Huaisang felt his head and heart hurt at the very idea of homework, but still forced himself to at least look at some of the essays he was supposed to write. It was a question about a hypothetical situation at a Night Hunt, and demanded an explanation of how to best deal with the crisis detailed, as well as why that solution was the appropriate one. Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure it was something that had been discussed in class, though with how little he managed to actually listen, it might well have been. In any case, he was pretty sure that someone a little more used than him to Night Hunts would have known what to do from experience, but he never really went Night Hunting, unlike most kids his age.

Still, since he was trapped there with nothing better to do, Nie Huaisang tried his best to think of something to write. He picked up a spare sheet of paper and even dipped his brush in Lan Xichen's ink, ready to write down whatever stupid answer he’d come up with, but his mind remained desperately blank. It was such a waste of time. He should have refused Lan Xichen’s invitation, and gone out in the back hills. If the weather was about to turn bad, some birds might have been flying lower than usual. He could have seen them from up close, which would have been nice. He hadn’t yet figured out which species lived around the Cloud Recesses, but…

“Oh, that’s pretty,” Lan Xichen remarked.

Nie Huaisang startled, and looked down at the sheet of paper in front of him, where he had mindlessly started doodling a few birds. He hadn’t meant to do that, but it tended to happen when he was bored, and then teachers noticed and got angry, scolding him for wasting time and paper on something useless. Used to things playing out a certain way, and knowing how serious everyone in Gusu Lan was, Nie Huaisang braced himself for a scolding that never came.

“You have a very good sense of movement,” Lan Xichen said instead, leaning over the table to get a better look. “And a good eye for details too. Those are swallows, right?”

“Yeah,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, shoulders still hunched up. “I like them. They’re fun to watch fly, even if it’s not… da-ge says it’s a waste of time.”

Lan Xichen hummed quietly, and put down his own brush, extending his hand toward Nie Huaisang. Unsure what else to do, the younger boy handed him his doodles, which Lan Xichen observed with rather more attention than something so rushed really deserved.

“The time you spent observing those birds can’t have been wasted if it lets you paint them this way,” Lan Xichen noted, giving back the paper. “Nie gongzi is more skilled than I would have expected. Were you taught formally, or did you just pick up on your own?”

“A bit of both. When he figured I wasn’t going to be good at cultivation, my father decided I’d have to be good at something else. But then he died, and until da-ge marries I’m his heir, so everyone started insisting on me learning cultivation again.”

“Yes, I suppose that would have to take priority,” Lan Xichen conceded. “It’s too bad. You have real talent. If you’d like, I can see if it’s possible for someone to teach you while you are here. And you said you were interested in the guqin as well, weren’t you?”

Too stunned for words, Nie Huaisang could only nod.

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that, for once, looked somewhat sincere. “As long as it doesn’t impact the rest of your studies.”

Whatever hope Nie Huaisang had allowed himself to feel crumbled instantly upon hearing that condition. It wasn’t that learning to paint or play music would change his capacity to learn other things, he thought, because he just didn’t have the head for cultivation or politics in the first place. But if he failed in his normal classes, everyone would assume it was because he only cared about those other lessons.

“Lan gongzi doesn’t need to take this pain,” Nie Huaisang sighed, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine, it’d just be a waste of time. I am a very bad student to begin with, so let’s spare everyone the headache. No teacher should have to bear with a student like me. Really, I pity your uncle already, so let’s not add to the amount of people I’ll disappoint.”

“Nie gongzi underestimates himself. With proper motivation…”

“Ah but that’s the problem, I have no motivation whatsoever,” Nie Huaisang proudly proclaimed. “Ask my brother, nothing works on me at all, I’m just too lazy to care about anything. No, really, I thank you for the offer, Lan gongzi, but don’t waste your time.”

Lan Xichen frowned, seemingly upset to have his generous suggestion declined, and out of pure laziness too. Nie Huaisang, used to his sect’s typical temper, would have expected an explosion of anger in reaction to his apathy. He would have known how to deal with a little shouting. Instead, Lan Xichen made himself smile again, and returned to his own work without insisting, as if it didn’t matter to him what Nie Huaisang did.

Probably because he really didn’t care, Nie Huaisang thought, trying to force his attention back to his homework. They were just too different. Even if they shared certain interests, like painting or music, at the end of the day they was a huge gap in their skills and personality that made it impossible for them to get along. Compared to how easy it had been to chat with Su She… definitely, Nie Huaisang preferred the new friend he’d made over the person he’d been ordered to become close to.

“What is your assignment about?” Lan Xichen asked after a while, putting down his brush again. “You seem to be struggling, perhaps I can help?”

Feeling quite depressed at the thought he wouldn’t befriend Lan Xichen and might thus cause Nie Mingjue to die an awful death, Nie Huaisang shrugged. Homework didn’t seem so important anymore.

“Show me,” Lan Xichen insisted. “I know you’re smarter than this, so let’s see what we can do.”

Fearing he would be rude again and get in trouble for it this time, Nie Huaisang gave in and pushed his assignment toward Lan Xichen. The older boy inspected it with more attention than it deserved, a slight frown on his face as he read the question.

“Is this really stumping you?” he then asked, in a tone of voice Nie Huaisang knew too well, the one people had when they realised they needed to lower their already non existent expectations.

“It’s just a very stupid question,” Nie Huaisang pouted, crossing his arms on his chest.

His frown deepening, Lan Xichen glanced down at the piece of paper before him.

“Actually, you’re not wrong,” he said, startling Nie Huaisang.

“I’m not?”

“Hm. In an actual Night Hunt, you might not have the time to look for exactly the right person to notify,” Lan Xichen explained, “you’d just need to find someone to warn of such a situation, as long as they can help. This is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

Nie Huaisang eagerly nodded, which elicited a small smile in the other boy.

“You are right to find the question… disingenuous,” Lan Xichen resumed. “Don’t think of this as something practical, but as an ideal. If you had the time, if you had the choice, who would you share this information with. That’s what is asked of you here.”

“It still sounds stupid, but a little less so,” Nie Huaisang conceded. “To be honest, I’d just go tell da-ge. The only reason I ever go to Night Hunts is if he’s forcing me, so of course he’d be here to, and there’s nothing he can’t deal with. So he’s the logical choice.”

Lan Xichen’s smile froze, something changing in his expression. Although he was looking at Nie Huaisang, it felt as though he was looking at something else, as if he could see right through the younger boy, and what he saw made him terribly sad. Before Nie Huaisang could ask if there was a problem, Lan Xichen got himself back under control, his face placid once more.

“To be fair, warning your sect leader is a very good option,” Lan Xichen said. “This assignment… it’s not just about saying who you would warn, it’s about judging your reasoning for it. You have to explain your choice.”

“I think I get it,” Nie Huaisang said, leaning over the table to get his sheet of paper back. “Well, somewhat, anyway. Fine, I’ll try again, but I still expect to get a very bad grade. Still, thanks for the help, Lan gongzi.”

Lan Xichen smiled as he picked up his brush again. “It’s no trouble at all. If anything it’s a good exercise for me, having to explain these things to someone not used to school work. Perhaps in the future you can come to me again if you encounter more problems. I’d be happy to give a hand.”

Nie Huaisang just hummed in answer, barely paying attention now that he finally somewhat understood what was expected of him. It was still a very stupid question, he decided, but knowing what it was supposed to mean helped a bit. He just wished the language used weren’t so obscure.

For a while after that, both boys worked in silence. Nie Huaisang still got distracted once or twice and doodled a few things or looked as Lan Xichen meticulously copied texts, but overall he managed to produce something he could hand back to Lan Qiren without shaming his ancestors too much. He even showed it to Lan Xichen, who agreed Nie Huaisang was making some good points while gently correcting a few mistakes here and there.

“Come find me and tell me if you get a good grade,” Lan Xichen then asked. “And maybe bring some of your drawings with you? I won’t force you to get lessons if you’re not interested, but I’m very curious to see what you can do.”

“If it pleases Lan gongzi, of course I will,” Nie Huaisang replied, who had no intention of doing such a thing.

He might have been a little unrefined, but he understood Lan Xichen was just saying that to be polite. Nobody wanted to see the sort of drawings a kid like Nie Huaisang produced, except much younger children, or maybe relatives trying to be kind. Even the earlier offer to help again with homework had to have been purely a matter of politeness… but in that case, Nie Huaisang might pretend to be stupid and actually pester Lan Xichen anyway. It was his only chance of spending time with the older boy after all, and so his only chance to get in Lan Xichen’s good graces like his future self had ordered.

How very boring, but at least if he got some decent grades, his brother might be a little proud of him.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #su she #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

3021:Starless

-(1)-

Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter. Scenes of mild violence. Future smut. Please view the teasers before reading this part.

Word Count: 2.9k

Hyunjin x fem! Reader, Minho x fem! Reader, Jisung x fem! Reader

A rainy summer’s day.

Oxymoronic, yes...but what was Neos, if not a city of oxymorons?

The larger part of the city was crammed with skyscrapers, packed atop each other. The streets were filled with rich cyborgs and their androids, chatting away on their neodisks and living their glamorous, expensive lives.

The rain definitely wasn’t affecting them too much. Water-resistant metal plating and advanced technology made it possible for them to live their lives as usual, despite the heavy downpour.

However, things were different out here. The outskirts of the city were a lot quieter, the streets empty and deserted. There were no skyscrapers here, just sad-looking buildings and dilapidated abodes. Here, nearly everyone was made of junk and scrap metal dating back to 2032- the rain was a huge inconvenience for most.

As you walked down the street, you made sure to wrap your cloak around you tighter. You couldn’t afford any repairs at the moment.

Though that would change soon, once you finally manage to earn your Phantom license. You smiled as you thought about the crescents you’d win with each bounty. You’d finally be able to buy a new arm...

Two fingers in your right arm had stopped working years ago- you’d made do with it till now, but being a Phantom meant that you would need your bionic arm to be fully functional, since it was your dominant one. You’d learnt to use your left hand to carry out most tasks- though it was flesh and bone, and weaker than your right, it was definitely more reliable. It never glitched out on you.

Sometimes, you wished you were entirely human. Being one of the 98% of Xaliens who were technologically advanced definitely had its perks- but it was also expensive. You were glad for Mr. Han’s discounts.

You continued walking, the icy cold air biting at your skin, and making you shiver. It was supposed to be summer. You sighed, humming a tune to yourself as you made your way to the shop.

Beep.

Fuck.

That sound could only mean one thing. You paused, the low beeping resonating in your head as you inhaled deeply.

1...2...3-

You swivelled around, slipping your dagger out from your waistband in the process and swinging it at the spindly-legged automaton that had been creeping up on you. As soon as the knife made contact with its large, blue eye, it started glitching, convulsing for a few seconds before dying.

Your chest heaved, eyes wide as you stared at the dead machine. Inching closer, you ripped your knife out of its metal, tucking it back into your pants as you crouched to inspect it closely.

Your suspicions were correct. You pulled your neodisk out of your pocket, scrolling through the news. It only confirmed what you already knew.

It was a Zenx, though it seemed to be a newer model...it looked a lot more advanced than the ones you'd seen photos of. The arrival of the mysterious, hostile androids had been all the news were filled with, recently. Nobody knew where they came from, who was controlling them or what their purpose was. The royal family had offered the people in the poorer areas of the city a generous amount of crescents if they caught the Zenx and sent them along to the palace for observation. The ones who would sign up were to be called the Phantoms.

It was the very reason you were walking down the street to the workshop, despite it being past curfew. Tomorrow, the applications to be a Phantom would have to be filled and submitted. If you wanted to be a cyber-assassin, you’d have to have two fully functioning arms.

You flipped the machine over onto its side. Unlike most androids, these weren’t humanoid. They were strangely creature-like. You took note of the numbers and symbols on its plated metal belly, mentally jotting them down. Wrenching the plate off of it, you pocketed it with a groan. Maybe Jisung could take a look at it, tell you what you needed to know.

You stood up, sighing as you turned around- only to be met with a dark figure standing right in front of you.

Your eyes narrowed, tilting your head at the hooded man and rolling your eyes.

"I know it's you, Minho."

He let out a grunt of frustration, whipping the hood of his cloak off. "Its unfair, really. You're literally scared of nothing...you sure you're a cyborg and not an android?"

"Hmm...You had your hood on. Maybe I would have been scared if you'd shown me your face."

"Har di har." Minho chuckled. "You know you like my face, baby."

You wrinkled your nose. "Don't call me that. And I don't...like your face-" You stammered a little as he came closer, nose almost brushing against yours.

"Yeah? Why are you blushing, then?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to keep your composure. "I am not blushing." You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly.

He shrugged, looking past you at the upturned machine.

"Woah. Is that a Zenx?"

"Maybe."

"You killed it? Alone? Without any government issued weapons?" He asked incredulously.

You glared at him. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"It's just a little surprising, that's all." He smirks at you. "You're a bit of a badass, hm? But all I have to do to get you flustered is lean a little closer."

You frowned at him. "That's not true."

Your watch suddenly let out a beep, and you grunted, standing up and scowling at him.

"I have somewhere to go. Leave me alone." You started walking away from him, sighing as you heard his footsteps follow you. Whipping around, you crossed your arms.

"Honestly, do you have nothing better to do? Are you stalking me or something?"

"You wish, princess. I just happen to be in the same places you are."

You pressed your lips together, rolling your eyes and turning away again, walking a little faster...but he was still right next to you, strolling along beside you as he hummed under his breath.

You stopped, making him stop as well.

"Fucking leave."

"No can do. You think I'm just going to leave you alone, especially after you just got attacked? These streets aren't safe." There was no teasing lilt to his words anymore, and his voice was firm as he looked at you. "I'm walking you to wherever you're going."

"No you're not." You said, trying to keep your tone chilly. "I can take care of myself, okay? I don't need you. I don't need anyone." You snarled.

"Calm down."

"You're lucky my middle finger isn't working." You grumbled under your breath, turning away and walking as fast as you could.

A minute later, you looked behind you, but he was gone. You pushed down the slight disappointment in your heart, and continued on your path.

A few minutes later, you were finally there. You knocked twice on the shutter, tapping your foot impatiently.

Seconds passed by with no response. You couldn’t shout, since you were supposed to be inconspicuous. About four whole minutes passed before he finally opened the shutter.

“Finally! What the fuck, Sung? You knew I was coming at this time.”

He fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. “I know. It’s just...I feel like Dad’s getting worse. I was feeding him.”

Your glare disappeared, your expression softening. “Oh...sorry.”

Jisung looked up at you. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I just...feel guilty. I could have signed up earlier, if I hadn’t spilled coffee on my hand...I’m so fucking careless.”

“Y/n. You’re doing more than enough to help.” He met your eyes, sighing and looking away again. “Seriously...you don’t have to do this.”

You shook your head firmly. “I will. Mr. Han’s the closest thing I’ve had to a father. I’m not prepared to lose him yet. Besides, once I become a Phantom, I’ll have more crescents than I know what to do with.”

You moved closer, slipping your hood off and brushing a hand through your hair as you gave him a soft smile. “I’ll have more than enough money to take him to the city, and get him admitted in one of the best hospitals. We can finally move out of this shitty neighborhood. I promise you.”

Jisung gave you a weak smile, watching you as you pushed past him, making your way to the reclining chair in the corner of the workshop and collapsing onto it.

You held your hand out. “But in order to make crescents, I need to become a Phantom. And to do that, I need my hand to work right, and I need to be fully charged to pass all my tests tomorrow.”

He chuckled, rolling his sleeves up and flopping onto his chair, rolling over to you. He took your arm, turning it slightly and inspecting it closely.

“Hmm, you really do need a new arm.” He hummed under his breath, grabbing his oculus from the table and peering through it. He held your arm with one hand, using his other to lift each of your fingers individually.

“Hmm, okay. I think I have replacements for your fingers lying around here somewhere...” He rolled to his desk, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a box filled with prostheses. He scoured it for a few minutes before finally pulling out the appropriate parts.

Coming back over to you, he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s wrong? You look...sad.”

He felt his heart beat a little faster as you looked at him, making eye contact with him. “I’m not sad...just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“You don’t need to be. You’re going to be great. I’ve never met someone so strong, powerful and badass as you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve never met someone as kind and funn-”

“Can you lovebirds get a room or something?”

You looked up, laughing as you spotted Jeongin enter, his apron streaked with soot. Jisung’s cheeks turned redder than a tomato, his grip on your hand loosening a little.

“Seriously, though. Jisung, you’re supposed to be working on her, not gushing over her-”

“Hey! Remember you’re supposed to be my a-assistant!” He stuttered. “So instead of running your mouth, come over here and hand me my tools.”

Jeongin smiled, walking forward and lifting the wire up from the floor. Plugging it into the socket, he handed the other end to Jisung.

Jisung stood up, gently brushing your hair behind your ear, heart jumping in his chest as he did so. Exposing the circular socket on your head, he attached the wires to it, turning to arrange his tools as you made yourself a little more comfortable. The whirring sound combined with Jisung’s humming had a calming effect on you, your eyes slowly closing.

Jisung watched as you fell asleep, sighing as he got to work, detaching your arm with his screwdriver as gently as he could.

“You’re so fucking whipped.” Jeongin called, handing Jisung the prostheses.

“Shut up.” Jisung growled, adjusting the oculus attached to his eye as he unscrewed your middle finger and thumb, attaching the new ones with some difficulty. Your arm was an old make- how he wished he had the crescents to get you a new one.

You’ve always been his...guardian angel, for lack of a better word. He wished, for once, he could be the one to protect you. Jisung admired your strength, your tenacity and determination. However...sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered why he couldn’t be the same.

“Seriously though, Hyung...you really need to stop giving her those heart-eyes and just confess, already.”

Jisung looked up at Jeongin, frown settling on his features. “It’s not that simple.” He glanced over at you, eyes still closed as the machine charged the processor embedded in your brain. “She’s not the type to be bothered with things like romance. We’re just friends. In fact, I’m pretty sure she once said I’m like a brother to her.”

Jeongin stayed silent, not wanting to say much more.

There wasn’t really any point in protesting really, because what Jisung said was true, more or less. Love just wasn’t on your agenda.

Jisung shook his head at the boy’s silence, affixing your arm back to you and humming as he did so. He stole glances at your peaceful face from time to time, his heart jumping in his chest.

Maybe one day.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Sitting up a little, your eyes landed on Jisung, his back facing you as he worked on something at his desk. You cleared your throat, causing him to turn around and look at you.

“Ah! I didn’t realize you woke up...” He came over, unplugging you. “How are you feeling? Fingers?”

“Yeah, I feel so much more refreshed now.” You lifted up your arm, moving your fingers and making a small sound of delight. “Thank you so much.” You smiled up at him, getting up to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Jisung felt his heartbeat speed up, hesitating as he let his hands rest on your waist. All his senses were flooded with you...he almost forgot how to breathe for a second.

It felt too good to have you in his arms. It was scary.

When you finally pulled away, you went over to the corner to grab your cloak, fastening it around you as he felt his heart drop. He didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Hey...wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine, Sung. You don’t have to do that...besides Mr. Han needs you.”

“Um, Dad’s asleep. Please? Jeongin already left...and I just wanna talk. We haven’t had a proper talk in ages.”

You sighed, pausing. “Fine.”

Jisung walked alongside you as you kicked a small pebble with your foot. The subway tunnels were long abandoned, and you often came here for some peace and quiet. It was also the safest place to take a walk, considering it was after curfew.

“So...how nervous are you? For tomorrow?”

“Just...a little.”

“Don’t be. I know you’ll do great. I can come watch, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s open to the public...which is why I really don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of so many people.”

“Hmm...don’t worry, it’s going to be a piece of cake for you. I’ve seen you train, Y/n. You’ll be able to handle any challenge they throw at you.”

Suddenly, you remembered the weight in your pocket, eyes widening. “Oh wait...um. I almost forgot to show you...before I came here, I crossed paths with one of them.”

“Them? What?”

“A Zenx. I killed it.”

“Wha...what!?” Jisung spluttered, shocked at the nonchalance with which you uttered those words. You pulled out the piece of metal from your pocket, handing it to him. He stared at it with wide eyes, hands trembling a little as he took it from you, turning it over as he inspected it.

“Y/n...this looks so different from what I’ve seen online...”

“Yeah. They seem to be getting more advanced. I wonder who’s upgrading them...”

“Hmm, it doesn’t have to be a who...but it’s possible. Y/n, you really killed it alone? That could have been dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re the one who said I was capable enough.”

“Yeah, but...” He sighed. “I’m sorry. Just a little concerned, that’s all.” He smiled at you. “Now I’m even more convinced that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow.”

You smiled, looking at the floor as you continued along the tunnel.

“So?” You gestured to the plate in Jisung’s hand.

“I left my oculus back home.” He pocketed it, “I’ll inspect it at the workshop... I’ve been reading up on the Zenx lately. Very little information....not much to go off of, but I suspect that...”

You squinted a little as Jisung went off on a tangent, gesticulating as he talked...you tuned him out. Your eyes had noticed something. You blinked, wondering if it was a trick of the light.

Something...was lying on the tracks. Humanoid, it was panting....you stopped Jisung with your arm stretched out, staring at the body that was a short distance away from you. Jisung looked at you with a confused expression, following your gaze and gasping as he noticed it too.

“What the FUCK is that-”

“Shh!”

The figure was lying facedown, writhing a little as it struggled to get to its feet.

You and Jisung shared a look, considering what to do. Putting a finger on your lips, you slowly approached the body, carefully trying your best to not make a sound. Jisung followed, trying his best to be quiet...but as he took another step with his heavy boot, the stones crunched beneath his feet.

The figure looked up, eyes landing right on you, who was closer to it.

Beautiful, onyx eyes..shiny hair and plump lips...you recognized it. Him.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face twisted into an expression filled with fear and confusion. “P-please...help me...” He begged, crawling a little closer. Jisung grabbed your wrist, trying to pull you away a little, but you stayed put, eyes trained on the man in front of you, brain going into overdrive as you tried to figure out what was happening.

“I- Y/n, he’s-”

“H-hwang Hyunjin.” The man choked out, his voice glitching a little as he collapsed right in front of you, eyes closed as he fell unconscious.

H88.

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Insecurities

MASTERLIST

TRIGGER WARNING just in case weight/gaining weight is triggering to any of you. I just wanted to be extra sure to mention it because I don’t wanna accidentally upset any of you lovelies.

This was an anon fic request about Spencer reassuring the reader after she’s become more insecure in her body de to some weight gain. I loved the cute fluffiness and smut writing this. It’s a bit shorter than most of my fics, but I really love how it turned out. I wanted it to be sweet and simple and it turned out exactly how I hoped. Prepare yourselves for some fluffy Spencer feels. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 1,967

You stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at both your actions and what you saw before you.

You’d never been thin, by society’s standards at least, but you were a healthy weight. Dreams of a flat stomach, small thighs and a perky butt filled your teenage years until you learned to love the body you’d come with.

It wasn’t until recently that your old insecurities had surfaced again.

You’d gained some weight; enough to be noticeable that is. Your stomach had a pooch to it, your thighs looking wider when you sat. The bigger boobs you could deal with, but it was the widening of your hips and waist that made you most unhappy. Your fingers could squeeze the flesh there.

You were simultaneously ashamed of yourself for gaining so much weight and also for letting yourself sink back into teenage insecurities. You were in your mid-20’s, you shouldn’t be so obsessed with how thin or thick you were. Bodies changed all the time, it was a natural thing.

But that speck of low self-esteem that had wormed its way into your brain, lingered.

That was how Spencer, your boyfriend, had caught you one evening, in front of the mirror.

You were in your normal cotton panties and bra, the most comfortable set you owned and you were frowning, trying to tell if you were becoming frumpy or not.

“Now what’s that frown for?”

You spun around, startled to hear his voice.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” you flushed.

You turned back to the mirror, still scowling.

You saw a frown of his own in the reflection of the mirror as he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, looking at your reflection with you.

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

He held you tightly, not uncomfortably tight, but just enough that you could feel the protection in his grasp. He was always so protective of you, something you found endearing. If only he could protect you from your toxic thoughts.

You sighed, resigned to admitting your fears. You hadn’t voiced them to Spencer yet, but you were sure by now it was noticeable.

“I’m just kicking myself for gaining weight. It’s gotten noticeable and I don’t like the way I look. I’m sure you don’t either.”

He jerked back from you like you’d slapped him. At first, you thought it was because your suspicions were confirmed and he was disgusted by you. But then you saw the look on his face.

“How could you say something like that?”

He looked hurt.

You probably could have actually slapped him and he would’ve looked less hurt than he did now.

You turned around to face him and saw the downturn of his mouth and the furrow of his brows to display his upset manner.

“I’ve just been really self conscious lately...I’m sorry,” you said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

He turned you once again towards the mirror.

“I’m hurt that you’d think I wouldn’t love you, no matter what you look like.”

You winced, feeling foolish that you’d even voiced your thoughts.

“You see your thighs?”

His hands traced them gently, in a loving way.

“Unfortunately.”

“What do you see when you look at them?” he asked.

“Big, thunder thighs where half my weight gain has gone,” you mumbled.

“Well, what I see, is completely different, Y/N.”

“How so?” you asked, curious.

“What I see is the thighs that my pile of books fell on when I first met you. Or more like accidentally dumped a load of books on,” he chuckled.

You smiled, remembering that. It had been on the subway when Spencer had still used the public transport to get to work. You’d been sitting by yourself, earbuds in your ears and listening to an audiobook when all of a sudden what seemed like an avalanche of books came raining down onto your lap. Poor Spencer was red faced and embarrassed, but that one chance encounter led to so much more.

“And they look no different to me than the day I met you,” he continued, “Now, see these hips?”

“They’ve gotten huge,” you frowned.

“You don’t see me complaining,” he smirked, squeezing them playfully, making you chuckle.

“Anyway, on a serious note. These curves are what enticed me when you wore that pretty blue dress on our first date. They were—and still are—mesmerizing to me.”

His fingers trailed up your sides and across your stomach.

“And your stomach? I love that it’s realistic, that you still have rolls when you sit. It’s normal for even the tiniest person. But I love that you aren’t afraid to eat. That’s not the only thing, it’s my favorite spot to lay my head on, your tummy.”

You smiled. He loved to lay on you when you were relaxing, watching tv or even just cuddling. Sometimes his head would lay on your stomach as you played with his hair and he looked up at you with his heart in his eyes.

“I see your point,” you mumbled, fighting another smile.

“Maybe one day, this stomach will also grow with our baby,” he smiled at your reflection in the mirror.

“I also love your smile, it’s so bright and contagious. It lights up a room. I love your eyes, the way they sparkle when you’re excited about something. I also love seeing all your love in them when you look at me. I love your laugh. It’s filled with joy and nothing but it. I love everything about you Y/N. I don’t care if you’ve gained a little weight.”

Your heart couldn’t expand with any more love or happiness than you felt now.

“In fact, I love your curves so much; the thicker the better, am I right?” Spencer smirked.

You chuckled, slapping his hands away playfully.

He in turn, turned you so you were facing each other. His fingers brushed your cheek.

“I love you. No matter what you think, how you look, I will always love you.”

His lips met yours and you kissed him with all the love you felt for him. It was passionate, sweet, soft, but fiery.

You pulled him closer as the kisses grew more heated and his hands reached for the back of your bra, unfastening it.

“I wanna show you just how much I love your body,” he whispered against your lips.

He picked you up, carrying you across the room to the bed, setting you on it gently.

You watched him curiously as he laced his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off.

He leaned down, kissing your nose, then your lips.

“I love these,” he smirked, tapping a finger over your lips.

Then he kissed across your collarbones, making sure to leave a kiss upon each of your shoulders. His trail of kisses led down to your breasts.

“I definitely love these,” he chuckled, placing a kiss on the swell of each of them.

He took one nipple in mouth sucking on it gently, his hand kneading your other breast. With a small gasp from your lips, your body arched toward his mouth.

You tugged at the material of his shirt, indicating you wanted it off. He parted from you with a sly grin.

“Patience.”

He discarded his shirt and returned his attention to you. You squirmed under his gaze making him smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel so...exposed,” you grinned, realizing that technically you were.

“Well, one,” his smirk returned as his hands roamed your exposed skin, “You actually are exposed. And two, it’s not like this is our first rodeo.”

You knew he was right. But voicing your earlier self-conscious thoughts had made you feel vulnerable in a way that physical intimacy had never had. His expression changed when he saw you contemplating your words.

“What is it, honey?”

“I just feel more vulnerable than ever after voicing my insecurities,” you whispered, your gaze locking with his.

“I’m glad you told me,” he answered, his hands stroking your sides, “Because it gives me that much more motivation to show you why I think you’re perfect in my eyes.”

His kisses trailed downwards until his lips reached the top of your thighs. Your legs inadvertently parted a bit, earning a deep chuckle from him.

His hands were gentle on your thighs as was his mouth on your core. His tongue traveled over you like you were a piece of china, so incredibly delicate. Your soft moans filled the room as your fingers simultaneously tugged on his hair.

He didn’t stay there for long though. His goal was to just tease a bit before he got to the main act.

When he’d reached your face again, he kissed you tenderly, sliding into you at the same time. This was a much more gentle intimacy that you were usually used to.

His thrusts started out more slow and gentle as he continued to kiss you, his tongue twirling with yours. You held onto him, as if you couldn’t get close enough when you were already as connected as two souls could be.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your timid noises giving him the slightest pause before his hips joined yours in a bit of a faster pace.

It was far from normal sex, this was actual lovemaking you read about in romance novels or watched in theatrical love stories. You could feel every ounce of his love pour into you with each thrust into you.

“Spencer,” you murmured, bringing his face close to yours again.

Your lips met briefly before you pulled away, just to watch him, your eyes taking in every little detail about him as you both shared one of the deepest intimacies a couple could.

His lips hovered over yours as he moved within you, his gaze finding yours before his eyes fell closed, lost to the bliss. His groans reverberated through you, adding to the sensuality.

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became more erratic. His hands pushed your legs further up his sides, granting even deeper access to you. Your breathy gasp was approval enough of the movement.

Spencer watched you as you, too, lost yourself to the feeling of the two of you connected and as close as could be. Your lips were parted as you whimpered and moaned underneath him, your name falling from his lips more repeatedly now.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” he groaned into your neck, his release fast approaching.

You felt him tense above you, his low growl right in your ear as he came apart, your name coming from him like a mantra.

Your hand gripped his hair tightly as you came apart not long after him, your moans echoing in the bedroom.

When he slowed, his eyes found yours, his lips meeting yours gently in a sweet kiss. It was only when you parted from his kiss that you smiled up at him, feeling more loved than you could ever explain.

“You’re beautiful beyond belief, Y/N,” he mumbled, thumb stroking your cheek.

“I love you, Spencer.”

It was only when you parted from one another and the tangle of sheets and were laying in his arms that he spoke again.

“Will you still love me when I’m old and fat? You know I’m a sucker for Rossi’s cooking.”

You laughed, hitting his chest playfully.

“Of course I would love you, no matter what you look like.”

“Then you understand why I say I love you, even if you’ve gained a few pounds.”

You smiled, knowing he meant the words wholeheartedly.

It was then that you knew, everything would be okay. Your insecurities didn’t hold a flame to Spencer’s love.

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nkatr84 · 3 years

Text

Obi Wan/female reader one shot : Waiting part 1/2

When the reader is sixteen, she starts working as a waitress at Dex’s Diner. On her first day, she meets the love of her life. There’s just one problem. He’s a Jedi...

It had been a hectic first day. But you wouldn’t complain. Dex liked that about you. You just did what you were told. Buckled down, smiled at customers and only messed up one order so far. You just prayed to the Force that your natural clumsiness wouldn’t flare up.

The Force had a sense of humor.

One minute Dex had left the kitchens to chat with an old friend. Ordering a round of milkshakes. After setting the third milkshake on the tray, you carefully brought it out of the kitchen. But no sooner had you stepped out into the main dining room, the door of the kitchen swung forward knocking into your feet.

Your feet tripped over themselves and as your body twisted you gasped, seeing the tray flying, the milkshakes up in the air. But as you braced yourself for impact, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you.

You peeked open one eye. Then both eyes opened as you took in the sparkling blue eyes looking down at you in concern. It was a boy about your age. And he was gorgeous. Chiseled jaw just losing its baby fat. A perfect nose. You noticed two moles. One on his cheek and one on his forehead. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Are you alright?” He gently asked, his voice a smooth, refined accent of the upper levels of Coruscant.

“Never better...” you gasped catching your breath. But then you noticed his haircut. Auburn hair buzzcut short, except for one single small braid hanging over his shoulder. Brow furrowed, you realized you hadn’t heard the milkshakes crash to the floor. You glanced around to confirm your suspicions. The milkshakes and tray were floating in midair.

And despite the romance the imagery of being dipped over his knee conjured, reality finally crashed in to ruin the moment. Your savior was a Jedi padawan.

“Hey hey! Looks like your Padawan has good reflexes Qui Gon!” Chuckled Dex from the booth.

Across from him, a tall Jedi with long graying brown hair nodded in amusement,

“One should hope so. Alright Obi Wan I think the poor girl can stand on her own feet again.”

The padawan Obi Wan blushed and righted you on your feet,

“Yes Master.”

“And you can stop showing off. It’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” Qui Gon added, a small wink towards Dex who chuckled, his four arms crossed over his shaking belly.

“Sorry Master.” Obi Wan flushed again, waving his hand. The milkshakes righted themselves and floated over to the table. Obi Wan plucked the tray from midair and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You said, voice shy and small, eyes cast to your feet.

“You’re welcome.” Obi Wan nodded before sliding into the booth next to his Master. You nodded, returning to your other customers. But not without one last glance over your shoulder at the handsome padawan. It just wasn’t fair.

You tried to forget about the Jedi. But blue eyes haunted your dreams at night. Your mind reasonsed with yourself that the Jedi had a code that forbid attachments. But that didn’t stop your foolish heart from pounding in your chest every time Qui Gon and Obi Wan stopped by the diner for lunch.

It was no use. Having a stupid crush on a Jedi was just part of your reality now. Dex noticed of course. He thought it was hilarious. He made you wait on them every time. You were beginning to suspect he made your schedule out to guarantee you would be working when they came in. You didn’t know how. Especially when they started to go away on more missions and wouldn’t be back for weeks at a time. Once for a whole year. Not that you were counting the days or worrying or anything...

The only way you could cope with the crush was self deprecation. Telling yourself that even if he wasn’t a Jedi, Obi Wan wouldn’t give you a second glance. Oh he was polite and asked how you were, making conversation. But everyone else pretty much ignored you. You even had a customer point out one day that you just had one of those faces that just blended in.

You didn’t think you were ugly. But being a little short and your figure being a bit on the plump side you also weren’t kidding yourself. You guessed that was why you longed for Obi Wan like you did. You couldn’t have him anyway, so you might as well dream of the impossible.

But you also wished someone would want you like you wanted Obi Wan.

In a blink of an eye three years had past. And one day Obi Wan came in by himself. That was new.

“Hey! Obi Wan! Where’s Qui Gon?” Dex wiped his hands on his apron. Your heart twisted at the pained look on his face. Noting how red his eyes were.

“Obi Wan?” Dex pressed, suspicion growing with dread.

“He...fell in battle.” Obi Wan swallowed.

Dex shut his yellow eyes.

“Close the door Kid. We’re closing early today.” The grayish tan alien told you, pain evident.

“Sure Dex.” You nodded crossing over to flip the sign. You were the only waitress working today. Even your droid waitress FLO was out for maintenance. You hadn’t even had a customer all day until Obi Wan came in. The sky rumbled with thunder, the rain matching the mood.

“I’ll take my leave then.” Obi Wan nodded.

“No you sit. We’re going to honor my friend.” Dex let out a shuddering breath, entering the kitchen.

“Will he be alright?” Obi Wan asked you. You jumped hearing a roar of rage and pots crash to the floor.

“He will be. Just give him a minute.” You told him.

Obi Wan nodded then took a seat in his usual booth. Keeping to the edge as if Qui Gon was still beside him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, sliding into the booth across from him.

Obi Wan gave a stiff nod,

“Of course. A Jedi must accept death as a part of life. Less he fall to the Dark side.”

You lifted your brows. That sounded rehearsed. As if he were clinging to that mantra like a life preserver.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” You pointed out.

“No it doesn’t.” He conceded. You then noticed his padawan braid was gone.

“Were you knighted?” You asked.

He scoffed,

“Yeah. The council felt that anybody that can kill a Sith Lord after a thousand years needs to be a Knight.”

“A Sith Lord?” You asked. Obi Wan began to tell you the story. Of the Trade Federation setting up a blockade on Naboo and how they had tried to kill Qui Gon and Obi Wan when they came to negotiate for the Republic. Saving the Naboo Queen and the detour to Tatooine. The discovery of a boy named Anakin with a high M count, strong in the Force. Wicked political plots and the wicked Sith Darth Maul dueling both Qui Gon and Obi Wan. Qui Gon’s death and Obi Wan killing the Sith. Of Qui Gon making Obi Wan promise to train Anakin.

“So I was knighted and now Anakin is my padawan. I don’t know if I’m ready.” He confesses to you.

“Qui Gon believed you were.” You point out.

“Qui Gon also believed Anakin is the Chosen One.” Obi Wan sighed.

“Chosen One?”

“The one meant to bring balance to the Force. Don’t get me wrong. Qui Gon was an excellent teacher. I’m confident that he’s taught me well. But how can the kid that was once destined for the Argricore teach the Chosen One?” He asked.

Your heart swelled. So your Jedi Knight doubted himself too. Why was that so endearing? Maybe because it made your stubborn heart believed you were connected.

But Obi Wan needed a friend. So a friend you would be. You squeezed his hand on the table.

“With patience. Kindness. Devotion. All the qualities that Qui Gon saw in you.” You said.

He gave a small smile, eyes still sad,

“Thank you.”

Dex interrupted you, already swaying on his feet from the Spotcha he had stored in his office. The Besalisk poured a round of shots and you all toasted to Qui Gon. That night Obi Wan helped you get Dex home, who was in no condition to drive. Then he walked you home after the rain let up.

The next ten years you’d think of that night whenever you had a bad date or another Life Day went by alone. Oh you tried to date. But no one made you feel the way Obi Wan did.

You had one steady boyfriend once. A good man. A mechanic. But then you had blown it when he tried to kiss you. You had sighed Obi Wan’s name. He was kind enough to forgive you. Until he surprised you at the diner one day. He had been patiently waiting for your shift to end. When Obi Wan and Anakin walked in.

“There she is Obi Wan!” The thirteen year old pointed you out. Obi Wan gave a friendly smile. You had waved, biting your lips as you saw how the beard Obi Wan was growing out suited him.

But then you had caught your boyfriend’s eye. He gave you a sad smile. He knew. And the pity in his eyes told you he understood your dilemma. You were in love with a man forbidden to love. And while he had been free to love you, he just couldn’t compete. He had left and you never saw him again. You had heard he married a few years later, and you were glad. Meanwhile you would stop trying to date after that.

Funny enough that same day, after your boyfriend had left, you had approached Obi Wan and Anakin to take their order.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Anakin had asked.

“Anakin...”

“Yes he was.” You nodded, setting out their utensils, not adding that you were no longer an item as of five minutes ago.

“Does he think you’re pretty like Obi Wan does?” Anakin had asked.

You looked at the boy stunned as his Master admonished,

“Anakin!”

You glanced at Obi Wan out of the corner of your eye. He was shielding his eyes with his hand, neck and face flushed red. You couldn’t help but be amused. Anakin was more like a annoying kid brother to Obi Wan than student and teacher. You liked the kid enough, but sometimes his confidence struck you as arrogance. He was improving that attitude under Obi Wan though.

“I suppose he did.” You answered, giving them menus.

“Did?” Anakin caught.

“That’s none of our business Padawan.” Obi Wan softly scolded.

“I’ll give you a minute to decide.” You told them.

But you heard over your shoulder,

“Don’t you think she’s pretty Master?”

“Shut up Anakin...”

That stupid flare of hope ignited in you once again.

As years past and Anakin grew, the conflict between the Republic and the Trade Federation Separtists grew into a full blown war. Anakin was soon knighted and given his own padawan along with a command over a clone trooper squad. Obi wan was made a general with his own squadron. The Jedi visits to the diner were rare.

The war and Obi Wan wasn’t the only thing you had to worry about. You had to take several moonlighting jobs during the war. Once you were hired as a server at a fancy gala for Republic senators.

You rarely visited the Upper levels outside Coco Town. The opulence of the ballroom had left you speechless. Still you did your job. When you heard a familiar voice call your name.

You were sure you were gawking as Obi Wan approached you. He looked so dashing in his armor.

“Obi Wan!”

It wasn’t you that called his name. A tall, beautiful woman with blonde hair and rich robes caught his attention.

“Duchess.” He said. You heard the warmth in his tone. The one that matched his eyes. You turned and disappeared into the background, not seeing Obi Wan try to introduce you only to find you gone.

You didn’t really have time to process how Obi Wan had looked at the Duchess over the next few months. You had to earn a living. You started taking waitressing jobs in Coruscant nightclubs. Which required a lot of skimpy short dresses. No one noticed you anyway. So they never bothered you too much.

Until a familiar voice said over the chatter of crowds and booming music,

“No one told me the view here was so lovely.”

With a blush you turned to see Obi Wan once again in his armor approach you.

“Hello Obi Wan.” You nodded.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Well between the taxes the Chancellor imposed on businesses considered non essential to the war, and the taxes that made my rent go up, a girl has to eat. Even Dex has a second job now.” You shrugged.

“Which explains why I saw you at the gala. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were working. I thought you might have been there as someone’s date.” He said.

You scoffed,

“Yeah right. Who would take a girl from Coco town to one of those Upper level parties?”

“I would be proud to have you on my arm.” He said. You looked up at him at that.

“That’s sweet. But I don’t have time for parties these days.” You told him, trying to excuse yourself.

“Maybe...when the war is over?”

You stopped and looked at him in shock. Did he just? No he thought of you as a friend.

“Well you’ll have to win the war first.” You recovered.

“All the more reason to do so then My Dear. And quickly.” He said, lips tugged up. Ugh. When did he get so charming?

“Obi Wan!” Ashoka waved him over next to Anakin, Senator Amidala and a few troopers.

“I should get back to work.” You said.

“If you get off soon or have a break you’re free to join us.” He said kindly.

“Thanks. But as soon as I get off I have to head home to get a few hours sleep. I have to open Dex’s in the morning.” You told him.

“Then I’ll walk you home.” He nodded.

“You don’t have to.” You shook your head.

“I insist. And don’t you dare try to sneak out on me this time.” He told you.

You gave him a mock salute,

“Yes Sir.”

He chuckled and returned to his friends, as you took a steadying breath. But you couldn’t help but hear the Senator ask,

“Will your friend join us Obi Wan?”

“You mean his girlfriend?” Ahsoka teased.

“Snips!”

Obi Wan sighed,

“Anakin do control your padawan.”

It turned out that it wasn’t just Obi Wan to walk you home. You were also escorted by a few of his men. Men that had chuckled when Obi Wan had kissed your cheek goodnight. Until a bark from their general made them snap to attention.

You watched him leave that night, savoring the kiss lingering on your cheek. A memory you would cling to when a month later you got the awful news. Obi Wan had been murdered.

You had wanted to curl up and cry for days after receiving the news from Ahsoka. Anakin was understandably too upset to even speak since it happened. But Dex had gotten himself kriffing drunk when he heard. Someone had to keep the diner going.

The diner was closed the day of the funeral. You had to go solo. Dex couldn’t bring himself to go to it. You had never been to the Jedi temple before. It was massive and almost otherworldly. You were escorted to a lift. Where the Duchess from the ball joined you. She too had tears in her eyes.

You were left alone in the lift together. When she asked,

“How did you know Obi Wan?”

“I work at the diner he liked to go for lunch. He’s been coming ever since he was a padawan. The owner Dex is...was...a good friend. He couldn’t come today.” You explained.

“Sounds like Obi Wan.” She nodded fondly. “He protected me during the Mandalore Civil War. Him and Qui Gon. Then just Obi Wan for nearly a year. We grew so close...”

She sniffed delicately into a hanky, not noticing how you turned green. Of course a beautiful Duchess would turn his head. You were just a plain waitress from the lower levels. A friend. Every moment you thought had been proof of hidden affection for you was just a product of your imagination. You had tried to push away a good friend because of some stupid crush. A stupid crush that he wouldn’t return because of the woman next to you and the Jedi code. And now he was gone.

The lift opened and you exited into a large open air chamber. Your breath catching seeing the body lying in state under a sheet. You only noticed Anakin seething in rage in front of the body. The look on his face gave you chills. The rest of the service you kept your gaze on Obi Wan’s body until the last moment he was lowered into his tomb that slid closed. The emblem of the Jedi craved into his marker.

Unlike other funerals you had attended, once the service was over the Jedi left. Regular mourners like you, the Duchess and Senator Amidala lingered to give final respects. When it was your turn, you whispered,

“I’ll never stop loving you Obi Wan Kenobi. Even if you never loved me.”

You returned home and back to life. A few days later, it was almost closing when a man entered. He was bald headed, and rough looking. A scar and tattoo on his face. Bounty hunter written all over him.

“Hi. Welcome to Dex’s. The kitchen just closed but if you want caff or pie we have plenty.” You greeted with a courteous smile.

He stood there staring at you. He made you nervous. But not afraid. Odd.

“Sir?”

He shook himself,

“Just caff.”

“Coming up.” You nodded turning to grab the pot. You startled when you found him sitting in Obi Wan’s booth. Sure others had sat there, but the way he sat now, it was just too similar. Too eerie.

Something wrong?” He asked, voice gruff but gentle. There was something familiar about it.

“Nothing. It’s just...have we met?” You asked.

“No. I’d remember a pretty girl like you.” He said hiding his smile behind his cup. He wasn’t that attractive, but you blushed nevertheless.

“Not many people would call me pretty.” You said.

“They’re idiots.”

“Well thanks.” You laughed, ready to leave him alone.

“Why are you sad?” He stopped you.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you lose someone?” He pressed.

You gave a short laugh,

“That obvious huh?”

“Who did you lose?” He asked.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

You furrowed your brow,

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. He was just my friend.”

“I meant no offense.” He said as if remembering himself.

“Right...” you nodded wanting to excuse yourself.

“It’s just...I can’t believe a man would just be content to be your friend. I’d imagine...he’d wish things were different. More than once.” He said.

“Maybe. But not with me.” You said.

“Why not?”

“Well at first I thought he was devoted to his calling. A calling I was told didn’t allow for attachments. So I didn’t want to take that away from him. Only later I discovered he had feelings for someone else.” You confessed. Why you were sharing this with a stranger you didn’t know. But it felt good to confess it.

“Maybe he was confused himself. Torn between his calling and his feelings for two different women.” He offered.

“You haven’t seen the other woman.” You scoffed putting down the pot and leaning against the booth.

“Let me guess? Tall? Blonde? Regal?” He prompted.

“Uncanny. You sure we haven’t met?” You asked.

“I’d never forget meeting you.” He said.

It was the twinkle in his eye that had you shaking your head.

“Well. If you had seen them together, there would be no doubt on who he would choose if he wanted to give up his calling. They looked made for each other.” You told him.

“Maybe. But I can see why he’d be drawn to you.”

At your skeptical brow raise he continued, “Your kindness. Your selflessness. Your work ethic.”

“This sounds like a job interview.” You quipped.

“Your eyes. How they light up when you look at him. Your smile would haunt his dreams. Your laugh ringing in his ears. How you treat him like a normal man. Put his happiness ahead of your own. The other woman may have a strength, intelligence and beauty that’s draws him as well, and he does care for her. Deeply. But he can’t imagine a normal life with her. He can with you. It’s tempted him far more than she ever did. All he needed was a word from you.” The stranger went on.

“Who are you?” You asked. He suddenly stood, looking out the window. He exited the booth looking down at you.

“A coward. For not doing this sooner.” He replied. Then he kissed you. Your eyes widened in surprise. Then you melted in his embrace.

Before losing yourself completely, he suddenly bolted into the kitchen. Confused beyond belief, you tried to figure out what just happened. When Anakin stormed in, lightsaber ignited.

“Where is he?” He barked.

“Who?” You asked.

“Rako Hardeen!” He hissed.

“Who?!”

He growled stomping into the kitchen. Ahsoka burst in, out of breath, troopers on her heel.

“What’s going on? Who was that man?” You demanded.

“That’s the man that killed Obi Wan!” She huffed. You collapsed into the booth, feeling sick.

Hours past and you were kept there for questioning. Master Windu had come to question you. If you knew anything about Hardeen. What you talked about. You got the impression that he was trying to see if you were an accomplice. That angered you. It was Master Yoda that stopped him. The wise green Jedi master sensed the truth in you he had said.

“Forgive Master Windu and Young Skywalker you must. Seeking justice they are.” He told you as the Jedi left, a few Clones assigned to take you home.

“It’s not like I asked for a murderer to seek me out. Master Yoda? Why would he kiss me?” You asked, embarrassed. But you had to know.

“Hmm. To get in heads of targets, snipers learn everything about them they do. Saw your friendship with Obi Wan he did. Snipers known to fall for those their target cared about. Happens more than you think.” Yoda assured you.

It made sense. Especially given your odd conversation. Obviously just the man’s misconceptions.

“Hmm. Curious though. Why call himself a coward he did?” He asked. A secret dancing on his little smile as he left you.

To top off the strange day, after the troopers had cleared your apartment, posting a guard outside just in case, you dreamed of the kiss. Only when Hardeen broke the kiss, he had turned into Obi Wan.

You tried to get on with life. Work at the diner during the days, the clubs at night and on your days off. Hardeen was caught and sent to prison. You still dreamed of that kiss.

Months went by. Anakin started to come for lunch. His way of remembering Obi Wan you supposed. Only he only brought Ahsoka half the time. Senator Amidala was often his company. Padme as she insisted you call her. And judging by the looks they gave each other, they weren’t just friends. Which didn’t surprise you. Anakin had always been more willing to break the rules than Obi Wan had.

As much as you enjoyed getting to know them better, you still felt like a third wheel. When Ahsoka and the Clones joined him, you were more inclined to hang out. But seeing them flirting when they thought no one was looking you had to roll your eyes. Did they know how obvious they were?

But one day, you woke up with the realization that you hadn’t dreamt of the kiss. Maybe you were finally moving on. You fixed yourself a full breakfast. Then walked to Dex’s for the afternoon shift. Settling into the routine of taking and filling orders. You were mixing a milkshake when a voice you never thought you’d hear again spoke up.

“Hello there.”

You gasped, dropping the glass. Only it didn’t shatter. You looked and saw it was floating in midair.

“We really must stop meeting like this.” That voice said. You turned. Praying this wasn’t a cruel dream. For there was Obi Wan. His hair was buzzcut short again, his shaven beard growing back in. Smiling gently at you.

“That’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” You reminded him.

“Just say the word and I’ll give it up.” He said.

You blanched,

“What?”

He was interrupted by Dex running from the kitchen,

“Obi Wan! Knew you weren’t dead!”

“Hello Dex.” Obi Wab greeted before being pulled into a tight four armed hug.

The greeting soon turned into a celebration when Anakin, Ahsoka, Padme and the Clones showed up. You were soon given an explanation. Obi Wan had faked his death to go undercover to save the Chancellor from an assassination plot. Taking the identity of Rako Hardeen and even changing his face. Doing the timeline in your head, you realized something.

“That was you that night wasn’t it?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you.” He apologized.

“But why?” You asked.

“I needed to make sure my voice modulator was working correctly. That if a friend who knew me for years couldn’t tell, then I could fool everyone else.” He replied.

Friend. Of course.

“And the kiss? All the things you said?” You asked.

“Well I like to be though.” He quipped, taking a bite of cake.

“I see.”

“You’re angry with me.” He stated.

“Maybe I am. After all Master Kenobi you did manipulate my feelings just to test your dumb disguise.” You clarified.

“Manipulate? I didn’t mean...”

“Next time try Satine. I’m sure she won’t be so easily fooled.” You told him yanking off your apron and stomping out, ignoring Obi Wan calling after you.

It would be almost a year before you saw him again. Anakin said he was focused on ending the war. Not that you asked about him. More than...six times. This time you suspected Dex had changed your schedule so you could avoid the Jedi. Until one night when you showed up for the late shift. Dex was sick again. So you would have to close up. Luckily you didn’t have to work the clubs tonight.

Only when you got there, you saw Obi Wan in his usual booth.

“He’s been sitting there all day. Won’t let me or FLO get him anything.” the other waitress Hermoine told you. You sighed tying on your apron. You still had a job to do.

“What can I get you General?” You had asked.

“That depends.” He replied.

“On?”

“If you’re still mad at me?” He asked.

You laughed softly, folding your arms,

“Believe it or not Obi Wan, regular people don’t hold on to past grievances. We’ve got lives to live.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” He said.

“I’m sorry about Satine.” You offered. You had heard it from the news. The Duchess assassinated. Mandalore under the control of a mysterious crime boss. The fate of the war up in the air.

“Thank you.” He said softly. Eyes sad.

“You were there weren’t you?” You guessed taking a seat.

“I tried to rescue her. I can’t say much, but the man who killed her is an old enemy of mine. He wanted me to suffer. I barely escaped.” Obi Wan told you.

“I’m sure she knew you did your best.” You assured him.

“She told me she loved me. That she always would.” He confessed.

Your heart skipped a beat,

“And what did you tell her?”

“That had she said the word, I’d have left the order.” He said.

“You did love her.” You said. But not me, you thought.

“Remember that year Qui Gon and I went to help during the Mandalore Civil War?” He asked.

“Yes. Satine told me. At your funeral. You spent a year together.” You recalled.

“We did grow close. And if she had asked I would have left the order. If I hadn’t mucked up our one and only kiss.” He explained.

“Mucked up how?��

“I called her by your name.” He confessed.

“What?” You blinked.

“She was furious. I tried to explain but I didn’t know how. I still don’t to be honest.” He said.

Your brain stopped working. You tried to process his words.

“I devoted myself to the Order because it was easier to ignore the fact that I cared for not just one woman but two. So I wouldn’t have to choose. That cost one of you your life. And it’s not fair. To either of you.

I only thank the Maker that no one knows about you. None of my enemies anyway. To be on the safe side a trooper will be working undercover here to protect you. You might have to pretend to be dating him.”

Obi Wan had grumbled this last part.

“Jealous?” You teased him.

“Very. But I promise you once this blasted war is over, I’m not going to keep you waiting anymore. I’ll leave the Order and we’ll figure out what we have. Together.” He stated.

“Are you just saying this because I’m your only choice now?” You asked.

He looked confused,

“What? No...I...”

You stopped him by taking his hand,

“Obi Wan. The Force chose you to have these marvelous gifts. To be used for good. Even before I knew about Satine I never wanted you to give that side of yourself up for me. I love you for who you are. As you are. I’ve dreamed of you wanting me as I’ve wanted you. But because you can’t live without me. Not because you’re scared to lose me. Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s the path to the Dark Side right?”

“Right as always my Darling.” He conceded.

#obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #star wars #prequels fanfic

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cynergy-laughter · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All! Headcanon #7 (Submission)

(CW: Depression, thoughts of su*c*de, angst, please read on carefully, and please be safe)

All Headcanon prompts and topics are accepted, including angst, thank you to this anon for giving me such an important prompt.

So we have an MC who suffers from depression, and our boys are here to help MC. Plus Diavolo

The bois~

Lucifer & Diavolo(Pt.1): Lucifer has noticed your grades in your classes were dropping, so he and Diavolo wanted to have a meeting with you. Already being called to the student council room was anxiety rising enough, now you’re being talked to by Lucifer about how your usually high grades are dropping. Diavolo asks if everything was okay. There were so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t want to burden them with your reasons, so you brush it off as, “I’m fine. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Lucifer isn’t convinced so he tries to give a lecture, but as he gets started, it’s like he’s talking as he drags his nails on a chalkboard. You close your eyes and they become more scrunched as it went on for 5 more minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore, “I Get It OKAY?!” It was like it echoed through the otherwise empty room. Lucifer looked like he about to lose his cool, but what neither you nor Lucifer knows is that Diavolo has been watching you the entire time and saw some troubling signs.

He put his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder and stood up with his signature smile. “Of course, MC, you’re free to go. Just be careful going home.” Lucifer looked like he’s about to protest when he saw you pick up your stuff and with a swift “thank you” you got out of there fast.

Lucifer was walking home now, and he kept on thinking about Diavolo’s words to him: “I know you have a certain way of doing things, Lucifer... but I have a feeling you would have exacerbated the situation... just keep an eye on MC... they might really need you and your brothers right now...” Lucifer kept replaying those words in his head, looked at his D.D.D., the other boys were out doing their own thing and would be home late, so it would be MC and Lucifer.

He arrives home and he walks up toward his room, and hears something strange coming from your room, he listens closer and it sounds like sobbing. He knocks on the door and you hear frantic shuffling around, until you hear “come in.” Lucifer walks in and sees an open text book, an open notebook on the bed, and MC’s face was red and their eyes were puffy. He was beginning to piece it together.

“MC... are you okay?” Lucifer had sat down next to you, and it took a few minutes, but you had eventually told him how you felt, how you had suddenly been feeling exhausted lately, and that the meeting with him and Diavolo was the last thing you needed. That as you were walking home, you could hear Lucifer’s five minute lecture continue, but it got progressively more deconstrucively critical. That you meant to study for classes when you got home, but as soon as you got onto your bed, you just curled up and started crying. And finally that you had your suspicions about yourself but you were not medically diagnosed. Suddenly Lucifer held your hand.

“I only called the meeting because I was concerned about you... I thought that you were probably getting distracted by my brothers... but there was something more to this... I’m glad you told me, and I’m glad I know now... forgive me, MC...” you listened and hugged him, and resting yourself on Lucifer’s chest.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll be more than happy to help.”

“If you could just... be here with me... just like this?”

“Of course.”

Mammon: He has been concerned about you being a bit more reclusive than usual. He has been sending you messages and has been a bit annoyed that you haven’t been responding. He visits your room to see that you haven’t even left your bed today, which was even more concerning. He started trying to talk to you, see what was wrong. You told him to go away, but that only made him want to stay more. “I’m not leaving you. I hope you know that.” And when you pulled the covers over your head, he took his jacket and boots off and climbed into bed with you. “If you won’t come out then i’ll join you.” Was all he said as he settled in. You didn’t really know what to do at this point and just let him. “So, what are you thinking?” You eventually told him that, there were times when you just feel hopeless, that you just don’t want to be around anyone because you feel like a burden to Mammon and the others. Mammon was a bit hurt when he heard that, but, heard what you said, “You feel like you cause us more problems being around us and don’t want to bother us, right?” To this, you peaked your head out, and looked at Mammon. “I mean, you have been in the center of many family quarrels, so, I can understand that... but if anything, you’ve also brought us closer together. We’re here for you, we would do anything to help you. We love you... I love you.” Mammon could not believe he just said that. Suddenly, you open your blanket up, and Mammon scooted in closer to you, and let the blanket cover you both, you both cuddled each other. “I’m your first guy, so if you need anything, anything at all, if you wanna talk, I mean anything at all, call me, only me. No one else.” Mammon said as you held him close.

Leviathan: He noticed that you weren’t feeling any games, or manga that he was showing to you, and that made him feel rejected, but it was odd cause you always loved playing video games with him. He decided to ask you what’s wrong. He went to your room with some books, and he knocked on the door and went inside. He saw you sitting on the floor, head in your hands when before your head shot up to face him. Levi sat down next to you and asked what’s wrong. You said that you knew you were supposed to hang out with Levi today, do a livestream, but you didn’t have any energy to even get out of your bed. You tried, but you ended up sitting on the floor. You tried to get your D.D.D. to say you couldn’t do it today. But before you even texted anything you felt horrible for even thinking about not hanging out with him, so you ended up just sitting on the floor frustrated, guilty, and feeling terrible. Levi knew what you were going through, and scooted closer to you. “I’ve been there... and I’m not going to abandon you. Lucifer didn’t abandon me and helped me to start doing virtual therapy sessions... I’m here for you. The Lord of Shadows would never leave Henry’s side, and I won’t ever leave yours.” You gave a soft smile, and rested your head on his shoulder. “T-This is nice... umm... I can read you a bit of TSL if you want... we can start from the beginning.” You liked that.

Satan: You were at your worst, you were laying down in the library, just thinking about... that. About how to disappear, about how to go into the Forest of the Devildom and never be seen again. And then you started thinking about how everyone would feel, seeing their sad faces just as you had seen when you saw Mammon holding another you in his arms... and you just felt horrible about putting them through that, and now thinking about doing it again, it makes you want to disappear faster. You were hyperventilating as you had thoughts kept flowing and swirling round and round. It wasn’t until you heard your name being called a third time that you snapped out of it. You looked up as your breathing calmed, and your eyes met the worried eyes of Satan. “MC... Are you alright? What happened?” He asked in a zen panic. You looked down but Satan moved his head to keep his eyes on you. “Please... tell me what’s wrong...” You couldn’t hold it in anymore and you just begin crying, something that Satan was not quite prepared for, but he picked you up, sat down where you laid down, and held you close, giving you his shoulder to cry on. Once you calmed down, Satan had you lay you head in his lap as you reluctantly told him your thoughts about just disappearing, thinking the house would be better off without him, it would have been better if they had never met. Satan nodded and frowned sadly, after knowing that all of this was going through your head. “You have concluded that you brought nothing but pain and anger into our family, and you don’t deserve to live... am I... witnessing this correct?” You nodded silently, eyes getting misty again. “I think that’s the correct term for it, witnessing feelings. But let me tell you, you are not at fault for any of our dysfunction, if anything you’re caught in the middle of it all... and that isn’t fair to you.” Satan kept stroking your head. “You haven’t failed us... and, we don’t want to fail you... you’ve helped us countless times, so, it’s our turn to help you. We want to help you overcome this, cause you have more than earned our love.” Satan continued and lowered his head down to meet your forehead gently. “Please, let me or any of us know if you need us to listen to you, or if just want us to witness your feelings, or if you need us to do anything for you. Cause we care about you.” He then kissed your forehead. “And we don’t want you to disappear.” You sigh as you steadied your breathing, and looked up at Satan, smiling slightly with a thank you. “I also read that pets can help with depression... I know, how about I get you a familiar? A cat? Or maybe Siamese cats? One for you, one for me?”

Asmodeus: Asmo wondered why you wanted to take a rain check on your shopping spree today after the last 3 times rain checking it. You were being hounded by Asmo sending texts to you, do you not wanna hang out with me? (It’s not that...) Does someone else have your attention today? (Not... exactly...) Are you okay? I’m coming over to you, be right there! (You don’t have to... dang it...) you were not for anything today, and you didn’t know if you had the energy for Asmo’s constant seeking attention. You really just wanted to lay here and not be thought about. Then came the seven knocks. “MC~! I’m here.” Asmo said, walking in, carrying multiple bags. “I hope you don’t mind, I got you some clothes I thought you’d look good in, I also got some treats for us, cinnamon buns and iced coffee~!” Asmo said, going over to you laying on your bed. You look at Asmo and sighed, now you felt bad for thinking that Asmo was annoying, even when he went out of his way to get you some treats as well. Gosh what is wrong with you? “Hey hey, honey, what’s wrong? Why the sigh?” Asmo asked, setting the bags down. “Why do you care about me so much?” You ask, before raising yourself up and asking again. “Why? I just said I couldn’t do our shopping trip, and then you go and do something like this... and you still want to hang out with me... even after I... thought bad things about you... why are you still so adamant on giving me attention, when I haven’t given you anything...?” You had tears falling down by the time you ended, but you felt angry, not at Asmo, but at yourself, because your mind was saying bad things about Asmo, about how fake he was, how he’s doing these things out of spite for not going shopping. And it showed in your voice. You thought Asmo would walk away, but Asmo instead got closer to you on the bed and put his hand on your shoulder. “Because I can feel you hurting, you weren’t responding so I thought you could use some assurance of how much I love you... and how much I would be willing to do anything to make sure that you are okay.” Asmo said, pulling you a bit closer as he laid down on your bed, and pulled you onto his chest for an embrace. “I’m willing to listen if you need me to. Whenever, wherever, however you want me to be with you, I will. And that is a promise.” Asmo said, and you just began lightly sobbing into Asmo’s chest, with him rubbing your back and petting your head. “There you go, honey bunches... let it out... there there, I’m here for you...”

Beelzebub: He has noticed that you’ve been giving him your food for the past week and a half and he hadn’t seen you eat much off your plate. He was so nervous, he was wondering what exactly you were running on at this point. He went up to your room and knocked on the door going in and seeing you curled up on the bed. “MC? How you feeling?” you look behind you and see Beel, holding a sack of snacks. “I’m fine...” Beel went over and sat on the bed, “Are you sure? I was worried about you.” “Ugh, why is everyone so worried about me?” You scoot over a bit. “Everyone else is worried about you? They should be, especially if you haven’t eaten more than a bite of food every meal... then give it to me...” Beel said, you sighed a bit, “Beel, I’m eating, don’t worry about me.” You said as Beel frowned, “... You know we love you right? You know that we want you to come to us when you need us, right?” He asked, putting his hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t take it, he sounded so scared for you, it made you want to crawl into a hole. But you turned around and looked up at him, and began telling him about how there are times when you want to eat anything and everything, you want to hide your feelings with flavor. Other times you eat as little as possible to stop your reflection from making fun of you. And sometimes... you just don’t want anything because you know it won’t help anything, it’s like a doomed if you do, doomed if you don’t, it’s torture to keep this battle up that you just give up sometimes. Beel frowned and puts you on his chest. “Your thoughts are mean... if they were here, I’d tell them to lay off of you. You don’t deserve that.” Beel said, “I want to help you get back to a good eating state, what can I do to help?” You chuckle at how adorable Beel is, and smile. “If you could be here with me, and be there when I need you... I would be forever grateful.” Beel wrapped an arm around you, and pulled a bag from the snack sack, and began eating some chips. “Always.”

Belphegor: (Be careful, this one is heavy.)

Nap buddies for life, but today... He woke up before you, the second time, and noticed you had been asleep for a full 16 hours and still going. This was not a normal thing. So for once, he is waking you up. He shakes you a bit, saying your name, and you open your eyes gasping, meeting his worried face. “If you’re trying to out sleep me, the only thing standing in your way is that you’re a human... what’s gotten into you?” Belphie sighed in relief. You sigh and turn to lay on your belly and mutter something under your breath. “I’m sorry... what did you say? I couldn’t quite hear you.” You sigh, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” “Umm yes I would like to know, I mean for all I know you were trying to not wake up, almost sleeping for a whole day...” there was silence, and then Belphie, crawled over to meet your face. “MC, I swear to god, and I will, if that is what you’re trying to do...” you look away, “Have you ever felt so sad that you have a choice of sleeping forever, or never wanting to sleep again?” Belphie frowned and moved to look at your face. “Yes, yes I have. And I’m gonna stop you right there... those are serious words you’re saying.” He thinks you don’t know that. You’ve been here countless times, thinking about going to sleep, and never waking up. And everytime, “I think about how sad everyone of you would be if that happened... and the thought of me even thinking about how sad it makes me, it makes me want to erase myself... more...” you began tearing up. “Maybe I should have never been put here... maybe it would have been better to have not been in the Devildom in the first place...” Belphie’s eyes widened, tearing up with you. “We love you... you know how much we love you, and how many times we would die for you? Because you have changed our lives so much we don’t even wanna be the same people we used to be... If it wasn’t for you, I would have destroyed humanity, I would have torn the worlds apart all because I couldn’t even see past what I knew humans to be...” he said. “I am so grateful to know you and wouldn’t want you anywhere else, but here right now...” he went over to you, and held you close, tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m not gonna let you go, and I’ll do anything to help you with this... I am here for you... so please... don’t be afraid to reach out to me... to us...” Belphie trailed off as you both were crying now. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me...” you said as you falling apart in Belphie’s hands. “We’re gonna get through this... but you have to be willing to take the first step...” Belphie said and got up. “Come on, we’ve gotta hydrate...” you had a lot to think about.

Diavolo(Pt2): You have had a lot to think about this past few months, you have this whole support system established with the brothers, and during school time, you went to Diavolo yourself to tell your decision.

“I see, so you’re sure about this?” Diavolo asked, nodding to you.

“Yes... I want to get myself in a better place mentally, I’ve been stressing Lucifer and everyone else out these past months, and... I don’t want them to worry about me.”

“Well they’re never gonna stop worrying about you... but, I can understand... but are you doing this for Lucifer and his brothers’ sake?” Diavolo, leaned in from behind his desk.

You blinked and thought about it for a second, and then shook your head. “No... I don’t want to be a danger to myself, feeling so sad that I don’t want to do stuff I need to do, or want to do... I want everyone to not worry about me, and I want to not overworry about myself anymore either...” you explained, “I want my memories with Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, even you, Diavolo, to be good memories... because I feel good in those memories...”

Diavolo looked at you, got up, walked over to you and gave you a hug, to which you gave him a hug back.

“That is a good answer, and I want you to know, you have my support.” Diavolo said as he broke the embrace. “Shall we tell the others?”

“Yeah... they all should be here right? Even Belphie?”

“Yes, they’re all in attendance. Alright, let’s start the meeting.”

“Definitely...” it wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing is ever easy. With a support like the student council, you’d say that you’re in pretty good hands.

[On a serious note, all of the symptoms discussed in this headcanon are some symptoms of depression, or Major Depressive Disorder, everyone experiences depression differently, and it’s always best to get a medical diagnosis because it is a serious mental illness. If you or a friend is going through depression, it never hurts to reach out, establish a support system of trusted friends and family, tell them you are here for them, and listen to what they are telling you, be a witness to their feelings, be supportive. And if you are experiencing suicidal thoughts, you should get help immediately or as soon as possible. I hope I got this right... please be safe out there.]

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ghostspideys-moved · 3 years

Text

In A Flash [S.H.]

a/n: yes this is another superhero au, no I don’t have all the details figured out since it’s a one shot, and yes this is very self indulgent.

word count: 1.6k

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: After a horrible accident puts your friend, Steve in a coma, he wakes up nine months later only to start acting super weird. You think he’s hiding something from you.

For as long as you can remember, you and Steve Harrington have been great friends. You’ve been through everything together, and to say you’ve seen some weird things would be an understatement.

A few years ago, for example, something unpredictable and devastating happened.

It was a pretty big event that most of the city was paying attention to. S.T.A.R. Labs was unveiling a particle accelerator. Seeing that thing finally turn on was, like, a huge dream of Steve’s. Getting off early from his job as a CSI was a blessing. He thought he’d have to miss it, and although you didn’t get the excitement, you gladly went along with him.

Of course, none of that went exactly to plan. You weren’t there for very long. As luck would have it, someone stole your bag, which had your laptop in it. Steve ran after the guy, though he wasn’t the greatest runner in the world. He took a few hits and looked horribly out of breath when you caught up to him. Thankfully, the guy was caught, and you helped Steve back to the station. You felt bad when you noticed the bloody nose he was tending to, but you were very grateful that he’d even tried to help you. And you made sure he knew that.

What neither of you knew was that everything was about to get a lot weirder that night.

Steve stayed at the station and went up to his lab by himself. He turned on the TV, listening to the news. Now that he was missing the event at S.T.A.R. Labs, he might as well listen to the reports. It wasn’t the same, but it was still something. It was raining outside now, and pretty hard at that. That was when he heard the reporter urging everyone to stay inside. From the window, Steve spotted what he assumed was some sort of explosion. And it looked like it was coming from S.T.A.R. Labs.

The storm was growing worse and worse by the minute, and he thought to take care of the one thing he had control over right now. The skylight in his lab was still open, and the last thing he needed was for the storm to flood his lab. But as he was closing it, the worst thing happened. Steve barely had time to react, and he didn’t think he could have if he really tried. Because being struck by lightning wasn’t exactly a very avoidable problem. He was knocked over, crashing into the shelves where a bunch of chemicals were stored, and then he blacked out.

Getting the news that Steve was in a coma thanks to that lightning strike was pretty heart-wrenching. You visited him in the hospital everyday, hoping he’d wake up. You brought him flowers, talked to him, anything you thought might help. And though it took nine months, he did wake up.

There were some unforeseen side effects, though. Ones you didn’t even think were possible. At first, you didn’t notice - he’d hid it so well from you - but it was becoming clear that something was wrong. You had enough to deal with. Your job at CC Jitters wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t exactly fulfilling either. And, thanks to the particle accelerator explosion, there were “meta-humans” roaming the city, most of them dangerous. Always using their newfound powers for crime. And lately, Steve was acting weirder than normal, and he always disappeared randomly when meta-humans were causing mayhem.

After months of Steve’s recurring disappearances, you were starting to put the pieces together. You had some suspicions early on, but you just didn’t want to believe it. The idea of Steve being a meta-human was crazy, much less the thought of him being the biggest hero in the city.

You weren’t quite sure how to ask him, either. If you were wrong, you’d just sound crazy. And if you were right, you weren’t sure how you’d handle knowing your best friend was the Streak.

And although you didn’t hate your job serving coffee, you found blogging to be a much better use of your time. Your favorite subject was the Scarlet Speedster himself. It was easy writing about him, but scoring an exclusive interview with the Streak like you wanted was easier said than done. Somehow, you found a way to get through to him.

When he agreed to meet you at Jitters, you were beyond ecstatic. And, if it really was Steve under that mask, you had no doubt getting him to answer your questions would be easy.

You waited for him despite how late it was. And just when you were starting to wonder if he’d show up, there was a gust of wind, and there he was. The Streak himself.

“Oh, good. You made it.” There was an unmistakable grin on your face that you couldn’t contain. You fumbled for your notepad, hoping to get some answers from him.

“Well, you really seem to like writing about me.” His voice was distorted, no doubt by his powers. So any chance of telling his identity from his voice was gone. You didn’t give up hope, though. “I’m guessing you have questions?” he asked.

Of course, you have more than a few questions, but you start slow. “I just think it would be great for the people to get to know their savior better,” you said. “Like, where you come from, how you got your powers, your favorite color…” You pause, looking over his suit. “Scratch that. I’m guessing it’s red.”

The Streak actually laughs at your rambling. “You talk a lot, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. I just think it’s important everyone gets to know the Streak. I mean, you’ve already done so much for us.”

He groaned, hanging his head when he heard that god awful name. “As long as we can get rid of that name,” he said.

“What should we call you?”

“Anything but the Streak.”

Admittedly, you weren’t the biggest fan of it, either, but it caught on so quickly. “But you’ll answer my questions?” you asked, a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

He hesitated for a moment before caving in. “As long as they’re not too personal.” You were a little disappointed, but you understood. Criminals finding out who he was could be really bad for him, and you didn’t want that. Even if you did turn out to be wrong.

Naturally, you rambled off as many questions as you had, and he gladly answered those of them that he didn’t think were too personal. You wrote down every answer he gave until you had what you wanted.

“Thank you so much,” you said, snapping your notepad shut. “I still can’t believe you even agreed to this.”

“Well, I’m always happy to help. Any time you need me, I’ll be there in a flash.” In a Flash. Something about that stuck with you.

Before he could run off, you stopped him. “I just have one more thing to ask. This can stay between the two of us.”

You didn’t really have to see his face to know he was confused and intrigued. “What’s that?”

Even though you’d rehearsed this a million times in your head, you still hesitated. This could end horribly if you weren’t careful.

“Look, this might be way over the line for me to even ask, but I’ve noticed a friend of mine run off in the middle of an attack so many times. And I’m starting to wonder if there’s something he’s not telling me.” You see him stiffen as you continued, and you were sure he knew where this was going. “Steve, is that you?”

Your mind was racing, but you hoped you were right. Otherwise, you might have ruined this for good. This was your chance to finally meet the Streak and maybe to continue using him as a source, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

But he sighed in defeat before pulling off his mask. Even though you had some hope, it was because of the small part of you filled with doubt that you were still shocked to actually see Steve.

“I was going to tell you,” he promised. “Honest, I was. But I know it’s a lot to take in. It took me so long to really understand what was happening to me.”

This explained so much, though, and you were happy to finally have some answers. You walked the short distance over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Steve was thrown off for a second, but he eagerly returned the embrace.

“I’m just glad I wasn’t wrong. I can’t believe you’re actually him. A superhero.” The disbelief was clear in your voice, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was a lot to process.

Steve laughed and looked down at you. “Sometimes I can’t believe it myself,” he admitted. “It’s been a crazy few months.” That alone felt like a huge understatement.

Both of you noticed the police cars fly by, and you knew he had to go now. You saw him hesitate before turning back to you. “I promise I’ll see you later.”

You nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. “I know. Go save the day.”

Steve grinned and pulled his mask back on. He was gone before you could even blink, and suddenly you were all alone. Since you’d been the one to lock up the shop, it was just you, so you used the time you had left to work on your blog. Now that you had enough to work with thanks to Steve, you put together a new entry on the Streak himself.

You remembered how much Steve hated that name, so you saw this as your chance to rename him. Something cooler and catchier. You stared at the blinking cursor before something he’d said came back to you. It wasn’t long before you finished typing, and you eagerly pushed the enter button. Now, thanks to you, the world might know just a little more about the Streak - or as you decided to call him, the Flash.

taglist: @charmedtenderness @nxncywheeler @koibecomedragons

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things fic

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pastelwitchling · 4 years

Text

Warning; mentions of child abuse.

***

Michael had met Alex Manes when they were only twelve. Of course, he was sure Alex didn’t remember. But Michael did.

In fact, his memories of Alex were the only parts of his childhood, save for the moments spent with Max and Isobel, that twisted his heart in a good way.

Michael had just returned to Roswell with Reject Foster Parents Number Who-Gives-a-Crap, and had shown up to his first day of his new middle school in hand-me-downs from the last kid his foster parents had — ah — taken in. The others had not been kind about it.

As soon as Max and Isobel had gone to class, Michael had been cornered in front of a tree outside. Several larger kids, much too large to be in middle school, smiled thuggishly as they called him names and pelted him with bits of their discarded lunches.

Michael had fought as many off as he could, but the odds had been too big and he was shoved roughly against the tree, his breath knocked out of his lungs. He had clenched his fists and tried to control himself, terrified of unleashing his powers, but also desperately wanting to pummel these pricks into the ground.

Then, out of nowhere, a kid forced himself past the small circle the thugs had formed, and stood between Michael and them with a large branch in his hands.

“Leave him alone!” he screamed, batting away a moldy apple that had been making its way towards Michael’s head. “Go away, now! Don’t ever bother him again!”

The kid shouldn’t have been so threatening, but the anger in his voice and the intensity of his gaze made Michael glad he was on his side. The bullies glanced at one another nervously, and Michael heard one mutter to his friend, “You know who his dad is? Don’t piss him off.”

The crowd scattered as the kid took another swing, and he and Michael were left alone. He dropped the branch as if it burned him, then he began picking up candy wrappers and plastic bottles from the discarded food off the grass, paying Michael no mind.

“I didn’t need you to do that,” Michael said.

“‘Kay.”

“Those guys didn’t scare me.”

“Didn’t think they did.”

Michael hesitated, watching him carefully. “Then why’d you help me?”

“I hate bullies,” was all he said.

Everything about him screamed, Don’t come near me! It was a look Michael had come to know too often in himself. And yet this crazy kid had risked himself to help someone he didn’t even know.

“Hey,” Michael ventured. “Who’s your dad?”

He tensed. “Why does that matter?”

And Michael studied the way this kid held his left arm closely to his side, the way he kept glancing around as if expecting someone to come out and attack him, the way he scrunched his shoulders as if trying to hide his neck completely beneath his jacket collar.

“It doesn’t,” Michael muttered finally. This boy was a mirror image of himself. He had the same dark circles around his eyes, as if he’d spent the night watching his bedroom door instead of sleeping. The same hollowed cheeks, as if he would’ve preferred starving to having dinner in his own house.

This kid was abused, there was no doubt about it...

And still, he’d jumped in to save me without a second thought.

“Here,” he said, pulling out a tightly wrapped — now squished — peanut butter and jelly sandwich from his back-pocket.

Michael stood. “What is this?”

“They stepped on your lunch, right? Take it. I made it myself.”

Michael’s stomach grumbled, and he blushed, taking the sandwich quickly. He unwrapped it and took a bite, the bread so soft and the peanut butter so creamy that his eyes burned. He unwrapped the rest of it, shoveling it into his mouth and finishing it in a few bites.

His eyes fell on a name written in marker on the plastic, probably to keep siblings from taking it.

Alex.

“Alex,” Michael tried the name out on his tongue, and the tips of his ears heated. He cleared his throat. “So that’s your name? Alex? Alex what?”

But when Michael looked up, Alex was already making his way back towards the school building.

Perhaps you think that had been it. That for the following five years, Michael had only watched Alex from afar without ever speaking to him, but you’d be wrong.

There was one other time they had talked, just one. Rain had poured down heavily on the window next to which Michael sat in class. They’d been assigned two worksheets to quietly finish, but Michael had completed the entire text book by the first two days of school.

Michael had been balancing a pencil on his nose, waiting for the others to finish, when he spotted a familiar someone running around the building outside. He was holding his raincoat tightly around him, his head ducked against the wind.

Michael followed him until he couldn’t see him anymore. He immediately stood, raised his hand, and asked to go to the bathroom.

When he made it outside, he looked for Alex. He was immediately drenched. He thought maybe Alex had been beaten so badly that he couldn’t bear even be in class in case anyone saw. But when Michael found him behind the building, he was very surprised with the scene that met him.

There Alex was, curled on a dry bench, pulling a small kitten from his coat. The kitten was shivering, but Alex kept it tucked in against his dry shirt, petting it and murmuring to it soothingly. He pulled a water bottle from his backpack, but as he couldn’t let go of the kitten he struggled opening it.

And Michael had no idea why he stepped out, why he opened his mouth at all, but before he could stop himself, he found himself saying the words, “Here. Let me.”

Alex looked up, startled, his dark brown hair covering his eyes and dripping wet. Michael felt his cheeks turn red as he sat down beside him. He uncapped the bottle and poured some water into his palm, hovering it awkwardly before the kitten.

The kitten was black with patches of white. It stared at Michael’s hand as if it didn’t know what he quite was, clinging to Alex warily.

“Come closer,” Alex said quietly enough that his words were almost lost in the rain. “It’s okay.”

Michael did as he said. Alex’s hands were trembling from the cold, but he seemed more concerned with keeping the kitten as warm and comfortable as possible.

Soon, the kitten hesitantly reached out and had some water. When it seemed content that it was safe, it comfortably drank. Michael felt oddly proud.

“Thanks,” Alex sniffled, and Michael now realized his voice was heavy.

“You’ve got a cold,” he noted.

“I’m okay.” Alex sniffled again. “Don’t you have class?”

“Mmhm.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

Michael shrugged. “I’m okay.” He could’ve sworn he saw Alex’s lips twitch. He nudged at the kitten with his chin. “Where’d you find it?”

“She always comes here, looking for food,” Alex said. “I’d take her home, but my brother Flint is allergic.”

“She’s so tiny,” Michael said, and gently pet her head with his other hand while she drank.

Alex nodded. “I found her soaked and shivering under a bush.” He coughed. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

Michael searched his face. “You’re really nice.”

Alex blinked, surprised. Michael felt his face flash hot. Was it always this warm? And why did these heat waves only hit him around Alex?

“Uh — I only mean —” he cleared his throat. “People usually want something back. What... what do you want back?”

Alex frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Michael pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Weird. Why’d he suddenly want to smile so much?

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

They sat in silence for a while, until the kitten had had its water and was curled up inside Alex’s coat.

“Hey,” Michael said tentatively. “What’s your name?”

“Alex Manes.”

“Manes?” Michael knew that name. It was pretty famous in Roswell. A family of military men, heroes.

Alex hummed in response. He seemed to be acknowledging Michael’s suspicions; he was a soldier, trained to live life one way and doing his best to make it his own.

“Um,” Alex mumbled. “What’s yours?”

“Michael Guerin,” he said before he could consider his answer. Michael Guerin was not his real name, but he didn’t know what his real name even was. He thought about telling Alex that it was just the name of the guy that had found them in the desert years ago, that he thought about changing it someday, that Alex really could’ve called him anything else. Then —

“Cool. I’ll call you Guerin.”

“C-Call me Guerin?”

Then it occurred to Michael; military family. Calling people by their last name might’ve been a habit Alex had picked up. Michael wondered what other traces Alex’s family left in him.

Alex shrugged a shoulder, still petting the kitten. “You look like a Guerin.”

Michael’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he owed that to the cold.

Well. He couldn’t change his name now. It’s what Alex was going to call him from now on.

“Then call me Guerin.”

Michael slumped back against the wall, watching Alex as he watched the kitten, the rain playing loudly in the background, letting Michael pretend for just a moment that this boy was not going to become his entire life.

***

Typed this out on my phone. It’s now 2:10 am. So tired. Really, really badly want a kitten.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex one shot #malex fanfic #malex fic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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exosmutfactory · 4 years

Text

How I Look On You 004

Chun-hei is stuck between feeling too busy to commit and too young to settle down. And with her bustling book publisher business, bachelors and alike are all swarming around her for a chance at publicity. She’s doing a good job at keeping the men at bay—until Byun Baekhyun, that is. Doesn’t mean he’ll have it easy though.

Tagging: @baeklination coz I think she’d like to be in the know about this 👀 let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged for the last chapter! 💕

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

The Confusion

—

Why are you only good to me

When I'm bad to you?

Why are you only?

Loving you and hating you is in, depending on the day

Tell me why are you only good to me

When I'm bad to you?

—

Opening my eyes to a familiar yet unexpected bedroom is oddly comforting. Or maybe it is because of the smell of cinnamon and the woods after it rains that causes my shoulders to relax under the thick comforter. Until the daze of sleep leaves in wake of a horrendous headache.

I sit up way too soon for the pounding in my head; close to losing the contents of my stomach before squeezing my eyes shut. Even swallowing is hard. I’m never doing this shit again.

With a groan I gingerly reach for the glass of water sitting on top of the nightstand; glancing down at the two pain pills left there before deciding to take them as well. Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, I try to remember the previous night as my headache slowly ebbs away; letting my gaze drift over the room. My whole body stiffening in realization. I saw something I probably shouldn’t, and I... didn’t come here for sex...

No matter how much time goes by before I even get another glimpse of Seoyeon, I can still pin-point her striking colored hair and confident stance anywhere—unless there is a twin she hasn’t told any of us about. Honestly that could be a likely conclusion as well with how tight-lipped she is with “personal” things. Guess shoving her tongue down her bosses throat isn't considered a “personal thing.”

Flinching at the sudden buzz coming from under my back, I flip over the clean white pillow to find my phone. Jihun’s name flashing across the screen. Briefly glancing at the time of 9:30 am I tentatively swipe to accept the call.

“Chun-hei, sorry if I woke you up,” She begins through the speaker; sounding calmer than I expected, “I’m just calling to check in with you.”

I blink, brows furrowing, “It’s okay.”

“Good.” She sighs, making my brows furrow even more. “Um...why are you so accepting of me not showing up to work?”

“I called you last night, you don’t remember?”

Blinking again I check through my call log, finding her name next to the time of 2:30am. “No,” Trying to remember the time through my blurry visions of last night is proving to be difficult, I don’t even know what time I got here...

“Good.” She sighs almost in relief causing an eyebrow raise from me. “You sure are calm about this.”

“Barely,” She grits, frustration slipping through her voice, “I called you after dragging a deadweight Minji back to my apartment just to hear a certain ‘Byun Baekhyun’s’ voice over the line.”

Heat swiftly crawls up my neck to my cheeks, “I-I accidentally gave the cab his address.” I defend with a flaming face. It is way too early to be flustered like this.

“Good,” She replies, sounding satisfied, “You looked like you’d black out at any moment,” I kinda did—“and based off how worried he was, you did.”

“Oops?”

“Yeah, right.” I can hear the rolling of her eyes, “Got to go, the meeting with the board is in 5 minutes and I haven’t finished preparing myself to take on their judging evil ass eyes alone.”

“Ouch.” I wince, a clear image of similar scenarios running through my throbbing head. “Thank you, Jihun,” I utter sincerely, playfully adding, “You know I love you right?”

“Whatever. You better be glad I get paid for this,” She grumbles, but I know she’s smiling.

“You’re the best~” I sing, disconnecting the line. Laying back on the bed, I look up at the white ceiling, trying in vain to remember everything from last night.

“..he likes you..”

Dark brown eyes watching me from across the room.

“Seojun has been far up his own ass since day one..”

Peach colored hair.

“..can’t believe Seoyeon isn’t here.”

Minji is as pale as a ghost.

“—gets all stiff when you mention—”

Wait.

I sit up, eyes wide in realization, Minji. Throwing back the covers, I swing my legs out of bed. Taking a few steps towards the door before the chill of my body registers in my mind. I look down at the long white t-shirt and tight black athletic shorts on my form before carrying on out the room; carefully opening the door and peeking around the corner. The sight that greets me too cute to bear at 9 in the morning.

Baekhyun sprawled out on the couch with wild black hair and eyelashes caressing glowy cheeks. Soft puffs of air escaping his parted yet slightly pouty lips. He is the picture of adorable right now.

I smile to myself before tip-toeing over to the other side of the apartment; finding my dress from the night before freshly washed and ironed. Sat on top of the modest dining table. Gratitude swells in my chest as I slip out of the borrowed clothes; carefully setting the folded pile on the table when something clatters to the floor.

Shooting a wary look over at the still sleeping Baekhyun, I reach under the table for the object; a single bronze key clutched in my palm. My heart racing at the underlined intentions. Pulling on my heels before slipping out of the door, I take one last glance back at him; not even fighting my fond smile.

Sighing softly once the door is shut, I type in a familiar contact while making my way down the stairwell. The 4 flights will be good for my overworking brain; filled to the brim with thoughts of Baekhyun and the company as I bring my ringing phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Minji.” I utter, a little in awe at her sounding so clear this morning. “Are you working today?”

“Yeah,” She sounds less enthusiastic this time; a certain edge to her soft voice.

“Good, I’m just around the block.” I observe, checking the surroundings of Baek’s apartment building fully for once in the daylight. “I’m coming over.”

“I’ll get your usual.” She mumbles, swiftly ending the call.

Taking a deep breath, I tuck my phone back into my pocket, speed walking down the remotely clear pedestrian walkways until I see a familiar sky blue building up ahead. The smell of fresh bread and the soft twinkle of the doorbell overhead bringing fond memories; ones I fear may be a bit painful to reminisce after today.

Minji looks up from helping a lady at the counter, smiling politely at the praises of her hard work and wishing her a good day. We're the only ones left after she leaves; Minji continues to stand there, seemingly lost in thought.

"...Um hey?" I give her an odd look, slowly approaching the counter.

"H-Hi," She mumbles, quickly retreating to the kitchen, "Have a seat. I'll be right back!"

Looking after her warily, I sat down at a booth in the back of the room; lazily watching the people walking past the far window with my chin on my palm as the sounds of running water filled the quiet room.

“Sorry,” She flusters, quickly setting a steaming brown mug and a slice of apple pie on the table before sliding into the opposite seat.

“It’s fine,” I reassured her, patting her hand, trying to ease her nerves. Gingerly cupping the mug in my palms, I gently blow on the ginger lemon tea. “How’s the bakery?” I inquire, quirking a brow with a smile. “Seems to be a real hotspot these days.”

“Business as usual,” She mumbles, tugging at the sleeve of her purple cashmere sweater.

“Hey...” I set down the mug, trying to meet her eye, “You okay?”

She begins to nod, stopping short with a shaky sigh. “N-” She stops, lips trembling. Croaking as tears fill her eyes, “No.”

“Hey hey hey,” I look around, pulling out a packet of tissues and makeup wipes from my purse reserved for moments like these before holding them out to her. She blindly reaches for them, still not meeting my eyes. “Minji… What’s wrong?” I soothe. My unease is growing by the minute.

She mumbles something unidentifiable under her breath and I lean forward, eyeing her worriedly. “What?”

Her head snaps up. “I’m sorry!” She blurts, shiny eyes wide with fear.

“I—” I flinch back at her wail, watching her get progressively more distressed with furrowed brows. “Minji I’m a bit lost here. What are you sorry for?..”

The purple haired woman takes a couple moments to dab at the corner of her smudged eyeliner, sniffling quietly before uttering, “Seoyeon…” She pauses, meeting my eyes for the first time today, “Seoyeon and Seojun are fooling around.”

A moment passes, only the bustling life from beyond the windows filling the silence. “Okay,” I slowly nod, ignoring the itching suspicion beginning to form at the back of my mind. Disappointed but not surprised.

“No,” Minji sniffles, shaking her head. “You don’t understand..”

“It’s okay, Min,” I soothe, putting on a small smile. “Seojun is a part of my past now.” Shrugging nonchalantly, I lean back in my seat, cupping my warm mug in my palms. “What they do is really none of my—”

“—Seoyeon slept with him while you were together.” She drops the ball.

I choke a bit on my tea, setting down the glass harder than intended. “Wha-” I cough leaning forward, fist against my mouth, “What did you just say?”

Minji keeps her teary eyes on the tabletop. The temperature in the room seems to drop a whole 10 degrees as the realization sets in.

“No.” I shake my head, tears brimming my eyes. “No, she wouldn’t…”

“I can’t believe Seoyeon isn’t here.”

“—she gets all stiff when you mention men..”

“—Who? Who?” Seoyeon craned her neck around; trying to catch sight of the man.

“Yah!” Minji whisper shouts, lightly smacking the back of her head. “Leave her be, she needs this..”

No… No. We have been friends since high school, back when she could never find the right concealer for her skin tone and Kim Publishing was but a mere thought…

“You never know,” She replies tossing her freshly dyed red hair, “Maybe you’d learn something if you left your office for once.”

Someone blocks Seojun from view; a woman with peach-colored hair that causes a spark to light up in his dark brown eyes…

“It’s not like her to miss the opportunity.”

Dragging my eyes up from the mug clutched tight in my hands, I meet Minji’s gaze with blurred eyes. “You..” I inhale shakily, clenching my jaw. “You knew.”

Her doe eyes widen, “I—”

“You fucking knew and chose not to say anything!” I explode, not realizing I’ve stood up until I blink, seeing her curled up form cornered against the wall through my red vision. Salty tears steadily streaming down my cheeks. The knocked over coffee mug rolling around it’s spilled contents dripping from the tabletop barely stopping right before toppling over the edge.

“You covered for her.” I conclude in a softer voice, the clues of betrayal burning bright behind my retinas. “You knew this entire time. When were you going to tell me, Minji?” She doesn’t dare to lift her head, my questions firing one after the other. “Who else knows, hmm? Your mom? The media? Jihun?”

“N-No.” She quickly shakes her head as I take in her cowering form, helplessly folding in on herself. “Jihun has no idea.”

“Huh.” I smile, not a trace of humor in my tone. “That makes two of us.”

After another moment’s pause, I reach over to pluck a handful of napkins from the dispenser, dropping them carelessly to soak up the mess on the table. “Thank you for telling me, Minji-ssi.” Sparing her a quick glance, I shuffle through my purse for my wallet, taking a minute to remember the exact amount before slapping the money on her side of the table. “Hope you get all that you want out of life.”

“W-Wait.” I pay her quiet call no heed, already pushing my way out of the clear bakery doors; the crisp, early-winter air biting into the skin of my drying cheeks. Looking up at the light grey sky full of wispy clouds, I brush off my shoulders, making a left turn at the end of the street that leads to the heart of downtown. Because now…. Now.

I have bigger fish to fry.

➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►

“Chun-hei.” He grins, comfortably reclined in the leather seat.

I smile. “Good morning, Mr. Shue.”

His eyes light up in expectant glee as I take my seat across from him, smoothing out the pants of my black suit. “To what pleasure do I owe to be graced by your presence this fine morning?”

“Just a quick little check in.” Pulling a blue pen from behind my ear, I tuck away a stubborn lock of hair escaping with the motion. “I believe we had some things to discuss?” I arch a brow, polite smile still on while opening my vanilla folder.

“Oh?” His own smile turns into a greasy smirk; the promise of his victory dancing in his eyes. “Well then. Yes, we do. Have you decided yet?”

“Actually,” I drawl, dragging my eyes back to his, “I’d prefer it if you helped me make one.”

As if on cue, Jihun steps into the room with two interns, each one of them carrying stacks of paper while she holds a recorder in her hands. The single flick of her thumb brings a red dot onto the screen.

“You see, Mr. Shue.” Turning my eyes back to him, I take in the panicked look on his face. “A little birdy told me that you have been making deals with Park’s Publishing.” I emphasize, cointining in a way too chirpy tone, “Behind my back.”

He sits there, forehead breaking out in a cold sweat as I gesture for the interns to set the documents on the long wooden meeting table. Spreading them out on the surface. “Now, if I recall.” Plucking a particular stabled stack of papers out of the two piles, I hold it up for him to see, “Your contract states specifically that any such foul play would mean a lawsuit and an immediate termination of contract.” My tone lowers, looking him dead in the eye. “It’s typed in bold print at the top of the first page, Mr. Shue.”

“I-I-” He stammers, clambering out of his seat while pointing a grubby finger, “You have no proof of anything!”

Not phased by his loud display, I calmly hold my hand out to receive the tablet that a third subordinate brings in; a mere three taps revealing a video of the short, stocky man shaking hands with the Director of Park’s Publishing; the title of exchanged documents clear as day in the HD replay. The book we’ve been working on for over half a year to publish.

Letting the tablet go to sleep, I set my gaze on his shaking form once again. “You will be hearing from my lawyer, Mr. Shue.”

He makes his way around the table in a fit of rage, fingers outstretched just for security to enter the room, swiftly hauling him out by his arms. His face redder than I have ever seen as he shouts obscenities at the top of his lungs down the hallway.

I lean back in my seat with a deep sigh, rubbing my temple and closing my eyes.

“You okay?” Jihun’s voice rings, a hand placed on my shoulder. I make an effort to relax, nodding as my eyes open, “Yeah.” One look at her doubtful expression and I know she can see through me. “Can you...cancel the rest of my meetings for today?” Tentatively, I take a glance at the time on my Rolex before meeting her gaze again.

“I can manage,” She murmurs, giving a slow nod at the apprehensive look on my face. “Go. Before the lunch hour traffic hits.”

Sighing shakily, I push away from the table, brushing invisible dust off my clothes while nodding in acknowledgement to my subordinates; swiftly exiting the room. Rolling my stiff neck with a wince. If only that was the last hassle I have to deal with for the day.

The familiar sight of the tall building up ahead causes my heart to squeeze uncomfortably in my chest, but I continue onward; head held high with every click of my heels on the pavement.

“Ms. Kim,” The guard out front nods in acknowledgement, holding the door open for me as I pass by with a brief greeting; my focus drifting to a certain advertisement posted on the far wall of the apartment complex lobby. The model and the makeup artist. My lips curl up, a bitter smile hidden behind the closing doors of the elevator. What a great pair they make indeed.

Slipping into the apartment is simple enough with the spare key in my hand. The tell-tale signs of moans and squeaking bed frames do not phase me at all as I make my way to the bedroom at the end of the hall, throwing the door open with no remorse. Startling the pair tangled within the bedsheets.

“What the fuck-” Her high pitched complaint stops dead in it’s tracks, covers messily clutched to her chest and eyes widened in alarm in wake of my presence.

“Hi Seoyeon.” That polite smile has found its way back to my lips. The curses spewed from the scrambling brunet under her mere background noise. “Just stopping by to tell you I don’t need your key anymore.” I let it fall with a clatter from my hand onto the dresser stationed within arms reach of the door, stuffing it back into my suit pocket.

“C-Chun-hei...” Her tone of voice is pitiful while her face flushes bright red, disbelieving eyes and shaky pupils glistening in the dim light of the disorganized room.

I look down at her with blank eyes, swiftly spinning on my heel, only managing to take two steps towards the front door before faltering. “Oh!” Snapping my fingers, I face them again with a click of my tongue, smiling in mock relief. “Almost forgot. I left your shoes by the door. Can’t have you leaving a $500 worth pair of heels behind, hmm?”

The nonchalant expression on her features despite the mascara streaking down her cheeks is enough of a response. Directing my gaze to Seojun, I shoot him the same pacifying smile, leaving the place just as quietly as I came.

My gaze lowers to the ground while trudging through the deserted streets, hands shoved deep into my pockets in search of some warmth against the bitter cold air. Maybe I should have taken my car amidst gathering the last traces of Seojeon out of my home, but then again, she isn’t worth the gas money.

Wandering mindlessly brings me back to an all too familiar apartment building, the weight of the remaining key within my pocket seems to grow heavier. Urging me to step into the place I’ve walked by countlessly since this morning. Beckoning me back to the man waiting—is he waiting?

My eyes widen, pace quickening as I bypass the person seated at the front desk in favor of catching the elevator before the doors shut. The ride up to the designated floor full of fidgety hands and impatient foot taps. It feels like ten years have passed before I’m inserting the key into the lock, carefully opening the door with bated breath.

“Chunhei!” Baekhyun rushes over as I force myself to calmly slip out of my annoying heels; his brown eyes wide and hair still messy from sleep. “Are you okay? I woke up and you weren’t-”

Fuck it.

Cupping his cheeks, I smash my lips to his, “I’m okay.” I breathe, pulling up briefly for air. “I just…” Looking at his worried filled face makes me pause, heart racing at the raw emotions in his shining orbs. The longer I gaze into his wide brown eyes, the more the bad feelings of the day wash away, “I need you.”

Baekhyun gulps, holding my gaze as my hands slide down his chest. He catches my wrists before I can slip them under the waistband of his jeans, “Are you sure?”

Looking him over again, I nod, gasping when he roughly tugs me into his embrace. He kisses me as if his life depends on it, so many emotions pouring from his lips as I tangle my hand in his hair; swiftly wrapping my legs around his waist when his hands grab onto my ass. He walks us back to the bedroom, lips curling against my own smiling ones and eyes sparkling with promise.

Maybe.. I want more than the pleasure he gives after all.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

One chapter away from completing this story ooommmggg. Thank for reading, sorry for the long wait! I guess today is an angst filled one hehe♡ ♡ have a great weekend!

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #bbh-net #baekhyun romance

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

February Contest Submission #5: Welcome

words: ca. 3,100 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: no warnings apply

“A snake made the world?”

Anna inhaled, then exhaled through her nose. Kristoff scratched idly at his stubble while they waited for their coffees to be made, standing around the uni café.

“It’s a mythos, Kris,” she said after a moment. “Just like Christian God, or Allah, or- I dunno. Whatever specific being any other major religion thought made the world.”

“But a snake.”

“Rainbow Serpent, actually. And it’s really interesting, if you bothered to listen.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when their names were called and two coffees placed on the counter. Anna took the chance, moving forward and grabbing her own cup and a few extra sugar packets. By the time Kris had caught up to her, she’d already dumped two into her drink, gently stirring it with a paddle-pop stick.

“I did listen,” he said, clearly intent on continuing the conversation. “And doesn’t the story go that the land and shit already existed but the big snake made mountains and valleys and stuff?”

Taking a sip of her drink, more to waste time than anything, Anna had to concede that he wasn’t wrong, per-se. He was just missing all the nuances of the topic, though!

“Look, I just thought it was cool, is all,” she said once she’d finished the mouthful of, frankly, fairly mediocre coffee. Nice and sweet, though. “Like, out of the seven-hundred-ish tribes– uh. Mobs. Most of them have an origin story that’s so similar. Across the whole country! But the languages they use are completely different – did you know the name of the language is traditionally based on their word for ‘no’? I just… thought it was cool.”

“It is cool, Anna,” Kristoff said, shooting her a small smile. “And I know learning about all this stuff means a lot to you.”

Swallowing again, though more from the dryness that had suddenly appeared in her mouth, Anna nodded. “Well, Mum isn’t around to teach me this stuff anymore. But I don’t wanna miss out and regret it forever.” Suddenly, she perked up. “Hey, did I tell you? I’m going to a thing today!”

“A thing?”

Nodding – so emphatically that she spilled her coffee, the brown liquid sloshing over the side of the cup and landing with a splat on the floor – she grinned up at her friend. “Yeah! It’s this traditional Indigenous show-thing? I can’t really remember what it’s about, but it wasn’t too expensive and they’re doing everything – a Welcome to Country, and stories and bush tucker, and I think they said a corroboree at the end?”

“That sounds really cool, Anna,” Kris said, just as his watch beeped at him. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. Uh. After class.”

Sighing, but this time with a smile, Anna waved him off – spilling her drink again in the process. “See you later, dude,” she said. She probably had to start getting ready, anyway.

Throwing the remnants of her coffee in the bin, Anna made her way back home. A forty-minute bus ride home, only to take a quick shower (how fortunate the drought of her youth had trained her in the art of 3-minute washes…) before heading back out again. It was cooling off, but she knew the evening wouldn’t get cold by any stretch of the word. It smelled like it was going to rain, and she heard the kookaburras again as if to confirm the thought.

Kookaburra laughing means it’s gonna rain, she thought to herself.

It was another forty-minute ride on the bus, and Anna felt herself becoming giddier and giddier with excitement. It’s one thing to learn about this sort of stuff in class. Now, she gets to experience some of it.

Even the first few splatters of rain on the window of the bus can’t dampen her mood.

By the time she arrived, the small drizzle had turned into a full-fledged shower. It wasn’t a storm – it felt a little early in the season (or late in the year) for that – and it would probably pass soon. She was glad she wore closed-in shoes, though, because it turned the earth into a sticky, muddy substance that stuck to everything.

There was only one other girl her age, and though Anna didn’t want to seem too invested, she was also cognisant enough to recognise that she’d rather interact with her than with any of the other people. A glance at the assembled crowed, standing under a large tent as protection from the rain, only confirmed her suspicions: there was at least one tour group, mostly made up of retirees; a school group, probably from the city’s Boys Grammar school, judging by the pretentiousness (and the uniforms). And the girl.

Not that she needed to worry about it. It was very much a group thing in that they weren’t asked to find partners or actually even talk to each other – not at first. First it was a respectful silence – and for Anna, a respectful reverence – as an Elder stood before them to give an official Welcome to Country. He described the land, before White colonisers; the shape of it, the boundaries between Turrbal Country and Jagera Country; the Meeanjin people, who weren’t able to claim Native Title for the land that still was theirs. Even the private school boys were silent, weren’t even fidgeting. Anna had to blink a little harder than usual, and she didn’t stop until he’d finished his piece.

No one clapped, but then, they weren’t supposed to.

A sudden flash of anger overtook her, and she had to face the ground just so she wouldn’t ruin this moment for everyone else. Why had her mum kept this from her? Why did she have to go searching, find out herself? How could they have grown up, let her grow up, not knowing a thing about her heritage??

“Hey, you okay?”

Jerking her head up, Anna found herself having to blink once more to force the angered tears away. The girl she’d noticed earlier was standing in front of her; everyone else had moved on, walking over the red land and towards a building.

“Y-yeah,” she responded. “I’m just…”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” The girl looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “C'mon, I don’t think you want to miss this next part.” With a quick, but sincere, smile, the girl turned around and began the return to the group. Anna followed, a few steps behind.

“I don’t?”

The girl shook her head. “I’m Elsa, by the way.”

“Anna. Nice to meet you.”

Elsa just smiled at her, slowing down enough to let Anna fall into step beside her.

Elsa was right: she did not want to miss this.

Once they regrouped, everyone was led into a darkened room. There was a star projector in the centre, a surprisingly real-looking, but definitely fake, fire built around it. They’d lit incense, or something, and when the door behind Anna closed and she was asked to sit on the floor, she found it really easy to imagine being here, back in the long ago.

It wasn’t the Elder who spoke this time. Another man, several years younger, came to sit in front of everyone. He had no shirt on, but his chest was painted in various pigments of ochre and white, only just distinguishable in the dim light of the fake fire and stars (and, Anna realised when she turned around, the fire exit sign). Elsa was sat behind her; she lifted her eyebrows once, still smiling, and Anna hurriedly turned back to the speaker in front her her.

And boy, did he speak. He told the story of the Rainbow Serpent, who carved the mountains and the valleys, and who tickled the frogs until they laughed, and the water that had been kept in their fat bellies burst and filled the tracks that had been made. He spoke about the animals that followed the Rainbow Serpent, who obeyed her and were rewarded by becoming human; those who did not would be made stone again.

But he spoke of other stories, too, ones she hadn’t heard before. He spoke about the Three Brothers, who were found mixing with women of another skin-group – a serious offence – and found their lives forfeit, as there were strict rules around marriage and mingling. Another person came up after that, a young woman, who told the story of Mundiba and they Honey, which was a cautionary tale against greediness and selfishness, as he had been asked to collect honey but had kept it for himself. A spirit had grown suspicious, and upon witnessing Mundiba taking the honey, had sung to the trees to trap Mundiba, where he had perished.

The last tale that was told, just as the retirees were losing focus and the boys began squirming, was the tale of the two wise men and seven sisters. Another origin story, Anna thought, and enjoyed it all the same because it spoke of people who weren’t people. This story, the audience was told, was from Wong-Gu-Tha country.

In the beginning, it says, the Creator sent two spirit men, Woddee Gooth-tha-rra, to shape Yulbrada, the Earth. They came from the far end of the Milky Way, and were tasked with making the hills and valleys. They made the cliffs and the oceans, the plains and the mountains. And when their work was almost complete, the Creator sent seven sisters, who were stars of the Milky Way, to make the land beautiful with flowers and trees, springs and billabongs, and all the birds and animals and all the creepy things.

Anna had to stifle a little smile when the woman said that. Not that she had to – the woman was smiling, clearly enjoying telling the story, perhaps more than Anna was enjoying hearing about it.

The sisters were making the Honey Ants when they became thirsty, and asked the youngest to find some water for them all to drink. She dutifully took her dish and went off, in the direction her sisters had sent her, to find water.

The Woddee Gooth-tha-rra were in the bushes, spying on the women, and followed the youngest went she went for water. They did not hide, and she fell in love with the two spirit men, and they her. The six sisters left became worried because the youngest had been gone so long.

They had all been warned by the Creator that, should such a thing happen, they wouldn’t be able to return to the Milky Way. The youngest sister remained on Yulbrada with the two men, and became mortal. They became the parents of the earth, and made the laws and the people of the desert.

The woman fell silent as she finished her story, and Anna was left thinking. It was a creation myth so similar to Eden, but different. People came from the Heavens, but it wasn’t a punishment to remain on earth. They weren’t cast out for the knowledge they gained, but instead had to embrace it. It was love that made the people, not the wrath of any god.

It was a comforting thought.

After the stories, they were treated to a didgeridoo player, as well as a demonstration of spear-throwing, weaponry, and warfare stuff. They returned outside, the storm having passed and the remaining clouds providing just enough cover from the would-be blistering sun Anna was less invested, but the school boys definitely perked up. Actually, regardless of her open interest, she still found herself perking up. The storytelling, while interesting, had little action and more atmosphere. This had action.

She found herself sitting next to Elsa again, a question burning the tip of her tongue. When there was a short break while some of the boys asked questions about the weapons, there was a window to actually ask.

“How did you know I’d like that?"

Elsa hadn’t been paying attention, naturally, and looked a little surprised when she turned to Anna. A smile graced her face; she looked comfortable.

"Everyone does. Even the kids, even if they thought it was a little boring.”

“Well, you were definitely right,” Anna said, an easy smile lifting to her own face. “Have you been here before?”

Before Elsa could answer, their attention was called for the next activity. A small wave of disappointment urged through Anna – she wanted to talk! – before she chastised herself. She had come here to learn all this stuff, even in this vaguely touristy way. She did not come here to make friends.

But… perhaps that would just be a happy bonus as everyone was led to a fire-pit and she realised that the next activity was lunch. An activity in which everyone was able to – nay, encouraged to – talk to everyone else.

Anna wasn’t going to talk to the school kids, and she held little interest in talking to the retirees. She didn’t even have to seek out Elsa; the other woman had left a spot next to her open, and was already looking at Anna and smiling.

They didn’t speak until after the food had been distributed: damper and dukkah – and a plate of different dips and chutneys on the side; skewers of kangaroo, crocodile, and emu; as well as more typical roasted meat. Potatoes and gravy, and all flavours she’d never tried before.

“This looks amazing,” Anna said to herself, eyes as round as the plates in which the food had been served. There was a light laugh from next to her, and she turned to find Elsa smiling.

“It tastes even better," she said. "And I know because I have been here before. Only once or twice, but it was enough to get me to come back.”

Anna thought back to how much this had cost her – well worth it, but it wasn’t cheap either – and then to the woman next to her. “It’s been amazing so far,” she agreed.

“And it gets better and better. This is probably the best one I’ve been to.” She said it without taking her eyes from Anna, who felt her cheeks burning. Was this woman flirting with her?

And then Elsa bit her bottom lip, still smiling, and nodded towards the food. “Go on, try it. I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

Okay, yep, definitely flirting. Probably as red as a beet, and a shade that couldn’t just be blamed on the sun, Anna ducked her head and focussed on the damper. It came apart easily in her hands, and she dipped it in some of the… chutney?

“So, is this your first time here? What made you want to try it out?”

Elsa asked the questions just as Anna lifted the bread to her mouth. She’d definitely taken too large a bite, and probably looked silly. A possum in the headlights, with bulging cheeks and wide eyes. With some difficulty, she swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” she said, reaching for her cordial. “My um. My mum passed away recently and when I was going through her stuff I found some pictures and documents about where I- where she came from. Wanted to… reconnect, I guess?”

Elsa nodded along as Anna spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “How are you finding it?”

It was impossible to tell if Elsa were talking about the death, or the discovery, so Anna chose to focus on the latter. “Well, I was really excited at first. I wanted to learn the language and talk to the Elders – I’m already doing Indigenous Studies at uni, so the chance to learn about it all from a personal perspective was really nice.”

“But…?”

“But Mum was Nunukul, so there’s no more language. I know they have the Quandamooka centre over at Straddie – uh, Minjerribah – but I don’t know if that’s the same. Jandai is not my people, or my language.”

Elsa nodded, taking another bite of her food. She was already half-finished, while Anna had been so focused on talking she’d barely started.

“I know what you mean,” Elsa said when she swallowed. She spoke slower than Anna, more thoughtfully; it gave Anna a chance to catch up with her food, at least. “My father is Tjungundji, so all I really have for that is some stupid word lists by old white people, sealed away in Canberra and gatekept by those same old white people.”

A bitterness seeped into her voice; a tempered fury that Anna was]s only just learning exists in her, too. A righteous anger over how much had been taken, not just from her, but from her people, and all other peoples who had been here before.

But she needed to look for the positives. She didn’t know much about Elsa’s mob, but she had been researching her own. She was lucky enough that not everything was taken or destroyed.

“It’s amazing what we’ve been able to recoup,” she said softly, thoughtfully. “I don’t think my grandma, or even my mum, really, could have imagined that their culture could be separated. It’s why they didn’t pass it down. But it is; it’s here and alive. Even though no one speaks Nunukul anymore, and it wasn’t really written down, we have the songs and stories of those people, even in English. I know the snake is my totem, even though I’m terrified of snakes. And I just think it’s amazing how much we’ve been able to put back together even after it all shattered. Things like this, today, are amazing, honest attempts at reconciliation.”

Elsa snorted gently, a smile on her face. “’Reconciliation’, eh? That’s the buzzword of the century.” Anna laughed and nodded.

“I like to think it’ll keep getting better. Two years ago I’d have never even thought to do this – Indigenous history was just a boring subject in school. But next week I’m getting a snake tattoo, which is terrifying, and it’s been designed by an Indigenous artist and it’s something on me that they can’t take away.” She sighed. “We need to stop taking so much away.”

They fell into silence for a moment, finishing up the meals on their plate. It was a thoughtful silence, comfortable, before Elsa broke it.

“So, you’re terrified of snakes and tattoos. Why are you getting both? Why not choose another design?”

She asked the question so sincerely, honestly. That was all that was really needed, Anna realised. A genuine desire for understanding that, as wonderful as she believed Australian culture to be, she often found sorely lacking. The “she’ll be right” attitude that blinded people to problems. To truths and solutions.

“Because,” Anna said, smiling. Elsa looked right back at her, the expression mirrored on her face, and regardless of the flirting earlier, Anna thought that, at the very least, she had made a friend. “A snake made the world.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

To Tell You The Truth Part Six

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, welcome! This whole chapter is like. Fluff, with a sprinkle of healing. Prime indulgence hours. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @fioccodineveautunnale @absurdthirst @cryptkeepersoul @fleetwoodmactshirt @88dragon06 @roxypeanut

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Ezra displayed your battered helmet alongside his own on the mantelpiece above the faux fireplace, the two domes leaned into one another as if engaged in private conversation.

Most evenings found both of you in the main room of his modest apartment, him pacing back and forth as he recounted various portions of his 'semi-fictitious' memoir that were giving him trouble, while you drew and offered input where you hoped it might be beneficial.

"My editor, Kevva bless him, dares to insinuate that I am too ponderously wordy for the average book market." Ezra bemoaned one evening, dramatically collapsing into a sprawl of limbs on the couch alongside you. "'Get to the point, Ezra!' As if it is that simple, to just trim the fat off the prize cut of loin without regard for the flavor it provides!" He spat indignantly.

"You are very…" you searched through all the fanciful words you had picked up from him, finally settling on, "verbose. Almost to a fault. Sometimes I wonder if you're deliberately taking three times as long to say something."

"If I am to be prolific with my speech, I would rather be saying somethin' that people are interested in listenin' to." Ezra retorted, sounding somewhat betrayed over you taking his editor's side. "I've endured countless lectures from individuals with some form of power over me and none of them possessed a modicum of eloquence. Their words were weapons of the bluntest sort: hackneyed and ramshackle and detestable." His voice dipped lower, gravelly and reverent. "I would rather a singular articulate quote to a thousand plain, lifeless, uninventive platitudes. Words are all I've ever had for most of my existence, gentle soul. They are a precious commodity gleaned not from the treacherous climes of some deadly moon, but from the stolen tomes and salvaged papers of civilization long past."

He rubbed his temples, obviously exasperated. You, on the other hand, were a bit flushed. His rants were always a joy to witness, whether you wanted to admit it or not. There was something about Ezra getting riled up that you found mesmerizing.

"I apologize, gentle soul. You are not here to be my sounding board, and I shall not treat you as such." He said finally, dragging his hands down his face. "I will not subject you to my bouts of tempestuous querulousness."

"Hey, you can talk to me all you want! I just wish I could contribute usefully to your musing, that's all. I'm not nearly as well-spoken, I'd hate to use a word wrong." You replied, grimacing. "Like querulous...querulousness."

"It means I am peeved. Cantankerous."

"You?" You gasped in mock-surprise.

He groaned, "I did not realize how astute you were." You spotted the corner of his mouth twitching upwards and you knew you had him, nudging your elbow into his side until he surrendered and gave you a lazy grin.

"Ezra, what does 'mercado' mean?"

He jerked upright out of his slump at that, looking confused. "Where did you hear that word?"

"From...you?" You replied uncertainly. "It was while we were still...um, in the tent, I had just finished with your arm and you were looking through my sketchbook." His blank stare prompted you to continue, "you saw a picture I drew of the west dock and you-"

"Oh!" Ezra gasped, his eyes brightening with comprehension. He bounded off the couch, vanishing into his room. You sat there, wholly bewildered, until he reemerged struggling into his coat. He seized your hands, tugging you upright and then kissing your forehead. "You precious, beautiful woman!" He praised. "I am so glad you reminded me of our blood pact, sworn over the battered salvage of my arm on that accursed moon."

"Uh." Precious. Beautiful. "Blood...pact?"

"Hurry up, hurry up, put on your coat!" Ezra demanded. You imagined you could see his blond streak fairly bristling with excitement. "We must go."

"Go?"

"To the mercado!" Again with that gratuitous, flamboyant roll of the 'r'. You were beginning to suspect that he was enjoying himself.

"What, now?" You asked, allowing yourself to be essentially spun into your long coat. "But it's dark out-"

"All the more reason to rush! If we aren't expedient, they may be closed when we get there!" He grabbed your hand once again. "Kevva waits for no man, gentle soul!"

...

You had never run the length of the Pug's west dock without some incredibly valid, logical reason. So the fact that you were currently running because you were being giddily dragged along by a large man who was far too invested in deep fried food spoke volumes toward the sheer amount of the things that had changed in your life.

"Wait, wait-" You finally had to stop him, your side aching from your haphazard sprint. Ezra halted, appearing confused as you wheezed for air. You clung to his hand a bit tighter than you meant to.

"What's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

"C-Can't-" you gasped. "Hurts. Gimme' a second."

"I--oh. Oh! Gentle soul, why didn't you voice your discomfort earlier?!" He erupted in a panic. "Sit down, sit, I'll-"

"No no, I'm okay. It's just a stitch." You tried to calm him, but he was having none of it.

"I must insist that you sit down, immediately." He implored, sounding distraught. "If I have caused you harm, if your wound-"

"Hey, I'm okay." You interrupted him firmly. "I'm just a little less...in-shape, you know? Tender still."

"I feel like a tyrant, I offer my most sincere reparations."

"Ezra, oh my gods. You're so dramatic." You half-laughed, your breath catching when he kissed your knuckles in contrition. "We can keep going, I just can't run across the entire dock."

"If you are certain, gentle soul?" Ezra asked, gesturing back the way you came and arching his brows. "We can always jettison this fanciful excursion, should you require a reprieve."

You shook your head, tugging on his hand. "Nope, we're already down here. Keep one foot moving. If we get there and they're closed, then I'll need a reprieve. To mourn my loss."

"Too true!" He agreed, mindfully shortening his strides. "It's not far now. Once we arrive, promise me you'll rest?"

"If you feed me, absolutely." You joked.

"I would love nothin' more than the opportunity to dote upon you, gentle soul."

You laughed for real this time, assuming he was playing along with your jibe. When he didn't join in, you tucked your chin down into the collar of your jacket in embarrassment. "Ezra, you...you take care of me all the time." You pointed out, feeling shy of all things.

"You are my partner." He answered simply.

Partner. "I...Damon, h-he-" You began to speak, but then choked off at the last second.

Ezra stopped dead and you closed your eyes, scolding yourself for starting something you knew you wouldn't finish. "Martyr's malfeasance." The brown-haired man cursed softly.

"I'm...I'm sorry," you hurried to apologize. "I don't know why I...just forget I said anything, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the fun."

"Every time I hear about him, he strikes me more and more as a man that I should have taken my sweet time disposin' of." Ezra snarled in that furiously cheery tone, his words stoking the tiny fire that you sheltered in your stomach.

Your grip on his hand tightened after a moment. "He didn't deserve the effort."

"Do not apologize for the shortcomings of others, gentle soul. I reiterate that I am here to listen if you need me. Though I warn you, I may not be able to keep from interruptin'." Ezra's eyes had gone dark with thought, his expression distressingly grim. "I am, at the end of the day, a loquacious fool." He perked up after a moment, pausing in front of a brightly-lit open air market. "Ah, and here we are! It appears that luck is with us, gentle soul, they do not close for another hour. Shall we fulfill our pact?"

The rest of your evening out was spent (intentionally or not, though you had your suspicions) effectively chasing off the shadow that recalling Damon had cast over you. Despite your protests, Ezra did end up feeding you half an order's worth of the delectable little sopaipillas, one by one.

...

When the rainy season hit, storms whipped through Puggart Bench and its wards with all the delicacy of a green prospector getting their hands on their first pull. It wasn't so much of an issue during the day; the sound of Ezra diligently expounding to himself usually muffled the howling winds or pouring rain. Late at night however, you couldn't help but imagine that the rumble of thunder was the pod striking the atmosphere, or that the rattling of the rain on the windowpanes was thrower fire. Your dreams turned frantic and riddled with nightmares. You even tried keeping your bedroom light on at one point to combat it, but it just amplified the shadows and gave your mind more fuel for its inventive fire.

You struggled in solitude for a good few nights, until one evening when you finally couldn't endure any longer. Surely he wouldn't mind, you would be quiet.

You slipped from your bed, bringing your pillow along as you padded down the hall to his room. Just as you reached for the keypad, the door slid open.

Ezra stood in front of you, a thin blanket and one of his pillows underneath his arm. He stared down at you. You stared up at him, your own pillow clutched tightly to your chest. "I..." he coughed awkwardly. "Er, the howling gale outside has...my nerves a bit...frayed. I merely-"

"Oh thank gods, I'm so glad it wasn't just me." You felt like you would burst with relief. "I was coming to ask if I could sleep in your room."

"What a novel coincidence! I was about to throw myself upon your mercies as well." Ezra winced at the thunder that boomed overhead after he spoke. "An expedient compromise is in order, gentle soul. We will adjourn to my quarters for this particular endeavor."

He stepped aside with a little bow and you entered the room, going to curl up on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Gentle soul, I think you've done enough proverbial listenin' at the teacher's feet to last a lifetime. Make yourself comfortable." He urged, spreading his blanket back out on the bed. "If we must weather this storm in conjunction, I would prefer you were nearer rather than farther."

You opened your mouth to protest and the wind whipped the rain against the windows with a hollow rattle, sounding for all the world like a thrower shot at range. Your fists clenched on your thighs.

Damon isn't here. It's just Ezra. It's only Ezra.

Ezra turned to face you after meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles in his blanket, his forced smile and hollow eyes reminding you that you weren't the only one haunted by ghosts of your past. He extended a hand and you grabbed hold, letting him pull you up off the floor.

You fell into him, burying your face in his chest for a selfish moment. "Thank you." You whispered, uncertain if he even heard you over the rumble of thunder.

Ezra pressed his lips to your hairline and then ushered you underneath the blankets. He was achingly chaste, as though he thought you might bolt if he showed any sort of blatant affection. Truly, you might have if it had been any other person. His tentative touch rested on your wrist for a moment before he laced his fingers together with yours.

"Your proximity is a balm to my troubled thoughts, gentle soul." He murmured. "You turn my mind to poetic wanderings; dalliances in sun-dappled clearings, rain that does not make me fear for my life." Ezra sighed, the noise barely audible. "All too often I am back there in my dreams; suffering mutiny, I am left to decompose until a gentle soul comes and pulls me up out of the weeds."

"I have nightmares about Damon." You confessed softly.

The grip he had on your fingers tightened ever so slightly. "I said I would not ask, and I will not tarnish that promise. I am here, gentle soul." His eyes searched your own, forehead furrowed with concern. "I have never trusted someone as I trust you. I have never...you fought alongside me, you placed your life in my hands, despite-" He paused, swallowing thickly. "You have earned all the time you might ever need. If it is mine to give, it is already yours."

His words, unwavering and slow, were what pushed you over the edge. In a voice that trembled and eventually broke, you finally told him everything. You held nothing in reserve, the terrible stories of all those nights in the pod tumbling out of you one after the other. You were so tired of carrying everything in silence, and talking about it...it was as though it made it all real. Tangible. Something that you could finally release.

Ezra was surprisingly still through the whole endeavor, the normally-animated man obviously reining himself in. The only indication of his own mental state was the way he occasionally rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you spoke about particularly trying instances.

"So this is the explanation." He said hoarsely once you lapsed into silence once more. "This is the trauma that you bear upon your precious, gentle soul. I...You've held it so tightly for so long, even though it wounds you. What has changed?"

"I found you." You replied bluntly. It was nonsensically simple to say, but it was true. He inhaled sharply. "You could have killed me, but instead-"

"I couldn't have." Ezra denied, shaking his head. "I saw you and while I knew I could play the part of the villain, I couldn't have...I wouldn't do anythin' to you. If not simply because you didn't slaughter me where I stood, then when you told me you had that kit and you almost broke my jaw after I startled you." He worked his jaw for a moment, like he still felt the echo of your head slamming into it. "And that man, the Sader, tryin' to tempt me into tradin' you in like livestock…"

"Because of everything that happened to me before, I...I panicked. I shouldn't have. I should have trusted you."

Ezra shook his head. "You had every right. I apologize for makin' you feel as though I would have accepted that pittance. I should have discussed everythin' with you beforehand." Lightning flashed nearby and thunder boomed, making you flinch sharply. Ezra urged you closer, his ragged shirt pressing to your cheek as you hid your face in his chest. "Martyr's malfeasance, your tenderness carves the heart out of me." He whispered. "You make me wish I was a reputable individual."

You started to apologize and he waved it off, stroking the back of your head and lulling you to sleep.

Despite the comfort his proximity brought you, the nightmares still came. You woke up panicking, as you often did, struggling away from the grip of the man beside you. He grunted and reached out to switch on the bedside table lamp. Ezra. It was just Ezra. You scolded yourself for your reaction, beginning to apologize again. But he simply rolled over and pressed his forehead to yours, humming in his throat sleepily.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt as you slowly relaxed against him and he mumbled, "In my dreams you come to me, as timid and inexorable as the dawn," brown eyes already half-lidded again. He sounded like he was reciting something, the words slurred with exhaustion, "In my sleepless hours you find me, tremulous and waning like the starlight."

You closed your eyes, just listening to his voice and letting it soothe you back into a doze.

"For I am a lost man who wanders bright and dark, all for the fleeting glimpse of you…"

…

His right hand had some minor nerve damage, which was to be expected. The infection had crept deep. You noticed a distinct lack of buttons on a majority of his new clothing, zipper pulls apparently easier to operate left-handed.

As the storms grew worse though, so too did his hand. It would occasionally seize up in bad weather, which unfortunately was all the time during the rainy season. Ezra was thoroughly miserable, though he attempted to hide it. The rapid progress on editing his memoir slowed to a grinding crawl as he pecked away one-handed, keeping his right secured in a brace for most of the time.

"Kevva damn it." He swore one grey morning, struggling fiercely with the tie around his neck. He was supposed to meet with his publisher and he always tried to dress the part.

"Hey," You yawned from the kitchen doorway, "you okay?"

"Gentle soul I must beg your assistance, I will be late!" Ezra pleaded from the bathroom, his tone distressed.

You left your mug on the counter, stifling another yawn as you slipped into the bathroom and batted his hands away from his neck. "Hold still." You mumbled, barely awake. His fingers dug into the sink on either side of you as you worked. When you glanced up you saw that his eyes were bright with unshed tears, his gaze fixed determinedly on his own reflection in the mirror. "It's okay to be upset, you know."

His jaw worked and he swallowed hard, obviously disagreeing but unable to vocalize it.

"I got it. All done." You soothed, patting the knot flat. "You won't be late. Be sure to check your fly." His eyes widened in panic and his hands flew to his zipper, making you burst out laughing. "Not now, Ezra! When you get there!" You grinned, playfully bumping your knuckles into his stomach just above his belt.

Ezra's chuckle was a little watery, but you chose to ignore it to let him think he was saving face. "What would I do without you, gentle soul? Wander the streets half-dressed with my placket splayed, I imagine." He mused, pressing a fond kiss to your forehead. "Now, Kevva waits. I will return presently. I believe it would be prudent for you to begin amassin' your sketches. We seem to be in the final stages of pre-production."

"Isn't it exciting?" You asked brightly.

"I am nervous enough to void my stomach." Ezra admitted. He squeezed your hand tightly. "I wish you could come with me, gentle soul. You make me feel at ease."

"You should have woken me up earlier, then!"

"You would have come with me?" He sounded surprised, running his hands through his unruly hair in an effort to smooth it down. "These meetings are so toilsome. At least if you were there, my publisher might spare me his tedious lectures." His blond streak sprang back up once his hands had passed, continuing its perennial goal of sticking out at a rakish angle.

You reached up to gently tug on the unruly little tuft of hair, smiling at him. "Suffering is no fun if you're doing it alone."

"Misery does indeed love its company." He sighed, his hand shifting up to cup your own on his temple. "These hands of yours, I..." he paused, grimacing in pain and flexing his own fingers. "Dammit, I…"

"I'll be here when you get back." You said simply. "Just like any other day."

Ezra's eyes were dark with thought as he stared down at you, the silence stretching almost uncomfortably long. "I...of course. Yes." He replied, his voice quiet.

You weren't expecting the call from him several hours later. You were just tucking into your lunch when your headset began to chime and you scrambled across the kitchen to grab it. "Yes, oh esteemed roommate?" You greeted him in the usual manner, smiling even though he couldn't see you.

"Gentle soul, are you busy?"

You stared longingly at your lunch. "I was about to eat. What's up?"

"He wants to see your sketches."

Your heart dropped. You weren't sure why, it wasn't as if you hadn't anticipated needing to have your own work checked over. Deep down you had hoped they would have more important things to consider, but it couldn't be helped. "What, now?"

Ezra's words were strangely clipped, so different from his usual flowery speech. "I'll be returnin' shortly, if you're amenable?"

"Absolutely, absolutely. I'll get...I'll gather everything up." You hurriedly put your plate back into the cooler. "Are you okay?"

"He has been more abrasive than usual, but I anticipated as much." He sighed raggedly and you heard the sound of the starter. "I've been out of sorts since this mornin'." He confessed. "I am uncertain as to why. Perhaps it's simply the weight of my own mortality catchin' up to me."

Your hands stilled in the process of shoving all your hard copies together. "Ezra, did something happen?"

"Nothin' aside from my immaculate personage being stained with impotence in the most mundane task imaginable." Ezra griped.

"Don't scare me like that." You scolded him. "I understand you're upset, but please don't use words like mortality. Gets me nervous."

"Fear not, gentle soul. I'll plague you for a good few years yet." He teased. "I am simply mourning the loss of a certain autonomy. The rain will not last forever, but while it lingers I imagine my moods shall be as grim as a graveyard."

"You'll have to try harder than that, you...poetically dour thing, you." You retorted dryly, shoving your hard copies into your unused portfolio. His laughter was loud in your ear. You loved when he laughed like that, all bright and startled like you had surprised it out of him.

You loved a lot of things about him, if you were being honest.

…

His publisher was a man named Thomas Anglio. He was in his late fifties, purportedly had no sense of humor and wore suits that were immaculately tailored.

The man's lack of humor was probably due to the stress of his job, you reasoned charitably. Managing so many aspiring authors couldn't be an easy feat, especially when he also had to juggle a certain querulous someone. At least you knew Ezra was paying him generously.

The secretary waved Ezra on tiredly, already reaching for the next Serv tablet before he was even done signing the both of you in.

You trailed along behind him as he strode into Mr. Anglio's office, the dark-haired man the picture of easy confidence. "I present my illustrious, illustrative companion." Ezra introduced you grandly as Mr. Anglio rose from behind his desk. "Gentle soul, this is Mister Thomas Anglio, a stalwart friend and a fiercely fashionable silver fox."

"You flatter me, Ezra." Thomas sighed, shaking your hand. "Please, take a seat and show me what you have prepared."

You obliged nervously, your hands trembling slightly as you undid your first bundle of sketches. "I believe what Ezra wanted was to have them sort of...scattered through the book at key points. Headers for each chapter, as well." You spread the pages out on the desk and Thomas leaned forward to examine them.

"Ezra, you are not writing a children's book." He pointed out practically. "The subject matter of this...strangely-realistic fiction of yours is decidedly adult."

"I am wholly convinced that my tale will not be half as impactful without their sketches, Mr. Anglio." Ezra insisted firmly.

Thomas groaned, rubbing his temples. "At least I know you're not doing this just to pad the final page count." He settled back in his chair, leafing through the piles of sketches. You had tried to separate them out by chapter, though due to Ezra's constant revisions you were certain some of them were out of place. "You understand we will not be using all of these, correct?" Anglio seemed relieved when you nodded hurriedly.

"I thought it would be better to have too many than too few." You explained quietly.

"You have quite the knack for drawing." He mused, lingering on one stack in particular. "Your portraits of Ezra are remarkable."

You heard Ezra swallow loudly beside you. "Portraits…?" The former prospector echoed tentatively.

Your brain ran back to you scrambling to collect all your sketches, shutting your eyes in silent panic as you realized you must have shuffled in the extra ones you hadn't meant to bring along.

"Yes, these appear to be for the portion of the story where our brave hero barters with a mercenary gang for safe passage off the moon. If I'm recalling correctly, of course." Mr. Anglio slid the pile of sketches to Ezra, who snatched them up immediately.

You saw his brown eyes go wide and you quickly ducked your head, busying yourself with pretending to sort through the groups of sketches. This was what you got for being disorganized! There were only supposed to be one or two from that scene!

The rest of the meeting was spent whittling down the groups of sketches to two per chapter, or three if they were small enough. Thomas also politely requested that you retool a few things, "this woman's helmet looks dangerously close to that inquisitor's from the Second Illumination. The last thing any of us want is to be sued by a failed monarchy."

You would say that the meeting went well, but you were so busy dreading being alone with Ezra again that it was all a blur. You just knew that your copious amounts of sketches focused on him would be subject to thorough questioning. And well they should be, it was borderline obsessive.

The jut of his jaw, the strong profile of his aquiline nose, the streak of blond above his right temple...all lovingly captured time and again. With and without the helmet.

You were certain you would be lucky to escape unscathed, waiting in fear for the proverbial pot to boil over.

...

"All you needed to do was ask, gentle soul." Ezra finally drawled after watching you anxiously wring your hands for the majority of the ride back to Ward Twenty-Seven. "Had I known that you wished so fervently to render me artistically, I would have happily sat for hours that you might properly capture my magnanimous visage."

"Please, please don't be upset." You begged, your fists tight in your lap. "I'll move out, okay? I'll leave and...and you'll never have to see me again. I'll send you the revised story sketches over the Serv, I'll-" His hand reached for your leg over the center console and you almost jumped out of your skin. "Wait, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don't-"

"Gentle soul, I am not aggrieved in the slightest." Ezra assured you quietly. "Breathe. You seem ready to go to pieces." He rubbed your thigh soothingly, back and forth. "Breathe."

"You...you're not angry with me?" You asked tentatively. And really, you ought to have established that from your time in the Green!

Angered Ezra was a looming thundercloud, he was magma barely contained by fragile crust. His fury, though an absolute force of nature, dissipated as soon as it arrived, like the outbursts wearied him too much to perpetuate and maintain. Damon had seethed and resurrected his anger whenever the mood struck him, so it was odd to engage with someone who seemed to deem the emotion more trouble than it was worth. You knew that the man currently in the driver's seat was a hundred times more likely to launch into a woebegone soliloquy about how tenuous material possessions were if he spilled tea on his shirt. But old habits died hard; you couldn't seem to keep yourself from getting wound up.

"Far from it! You capture my countenance in a way that is decidedly more flatterin' than any mirror." Ezra tilted his head. "I am...envious of the man you have drawn." He admitted softly. "I wish that he and I were one and the same."

You weren't quite sure what to say. At least he wasn't angry. Or he said he wasn't. If anything, he sounded...sad. "What do you mean?" You asked, your brow furrowed as you recalled what he had said the night you shared his bed.

You make me wish I was a reputable individual.

Ezra shrugged, sighing, "Nothin' at all, gentle soul. The rain is just makin' me morose, I'm afraid. I'll be glad to be home again."

Home.

"Want me to make some tea when we get home?"

The soft smile he directed your way had no business settling in your stomach the way that it did. "Of course! You are somehow better at makin' it than I, a true conundrum considering how long I toiled away to achieve my technique."

You almost didn't notice when his hand cautiously returned to your thigh.

Almost.

Part Seven

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indestinatus · 4 years

Text

Storms & Secrets

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 24

↳ prompt: Thunder Storms - rated T (2,440 words)

summary: In the middle of a thunderstorm, Tony and Ziva face the consequences of bickering instead of keeping their eyes on the road.

A/N: inspired by the movie “Leap Year”. This is so tropey and self-indulgent but also... why not? - aka the enemies to lovers fic of the series.

read it on AO3 🌩️

Tony squinted his eyes to try to see through the darkness straight ahead, but it would be easier to see underwater. And he was - in a way - as the windshield wipers moved back and forth with a speed that was worrying how it wasn’t enough to clear away the rain. The skies had decided to fall tonight with all their strength, and now not even the headlights on in full potency could shine through the heavy fog.

“I can’t see a thing,” he complained, leaning over the steering wheel to see if it helped somehow. It didn’t.

Ziva let out an annoyed huff from the passenger seat. “I do not understand how difficult it is to just drive straight ahead.”

“Well, maybe because I know for a fact that this is not a straight road, David.”

“If you know it’s not straight, then you know the way,” she replied dryly, and he could almost sense the eye roll without even looking at her. “So why are you driving at a leech’s pace?”

“Snail,” Tony grunted.

“I have been locked inside this tiny, awful, smelly vehicle of yours for more than two hours. Do you really think it’s smart now to start calling me names?”

“I wasn’t calling you anything.” Her obliviousness was truly unbelievable sometimes. “It’s a ‘snail’s pace’. I’m driving at a ‘snail’s pace’.”

“Glad we could agree,” Ziva replied with a condescending huff, and Tony had to clench his jaw from keeping himself from saying things he knew he would later regret. “Now would you do me favor and step out of the car so I can drive us back? We’re practically going backwards.”

“I would rather crash this car than suffer from an impending death by your hands.”

“Oh, do not worry,” she laughed bitterly. “If I stay locked up here with you any longer, you’ll die before that.”

This really was going to be a nightmare. Tony mentally noted to make McGee pay for convincing the boss to stay in the navy yard while he and Ziva took a detour to Arlington to check an abandoned warehouse—one that didn’t lead anywhere after all. A pair of woman’s footprints in the dirt and some missing shell cases were the only leads they had found, and they still had no clue about who they belonged to other than the slugs matched the petty officer’s missing gun.

The storm had started as soon as they set foot inside the warehouse, and there was only time to capture the footprints before the rain washed it away and left them stuck in the middle of nowhere. After an hour of waiting for the downpour to pass from inside the car, Tony had lost his patience with Ziva’s complaints and decided that the faster he could go back, the better—even if that meant having to sit through hours on end listening to her protests about his inability in driving efficiently enough.

It didn’t help that they hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and hungry Ziva usually meant dangerous Ziva. One wrong move and Tony would turn to dust, faster than being electrocuted by the lightning bolts that now pierced the clouds. But he just couldn’t help himself when she was like this—somehow it made the want to put her off even more compelling. This bad humor usually meant he could get to her easier, and Tony just couldn’t let any chance go to waste. To bug Ziva until she went mad may have turned into one of his life goals over the years.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Tony’s lips tilted upwards. “You’re enjoying every minute of it.”

“Of course,” she replied dryly. “This is exactly how I planned to spend my evening.”

“What?” Tony chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’d have preferred Probie as company.”

“He would certainly be less obnoxious than you.”

“Miss David,” Tony sent a sweet smile her way, “Say whatever you want, but your eyes tell a different story.”

Ziva chuckled amused and Tony felt her gaze burn at the right side of his face. “Yes? And what story are they telling?” Her voice sounded kind but Tony knew her well enough to hear the note of disdain in it. He decided it was time to make her squirm.

“Wouldn’t this be the perfect excuse for getaway sex in the middle of nowhere?”

Tony glanced her way with a lopsided grin and was amused to see it had worked. Ziva looked at him almost surprised he had put it that bluntly, but neither of them was that oblivious of the sexual attraction they shared that they would deny thoughts like that weren’t common. Of course they had indulged it over the years but still felt like a forbidden topic.

“Keep on dreaming, DiNozzo,” Ziva replied after some time, and Tony couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face at her reaction. Of course she would deny it.

“I think you are the one lying to yourself,” she added right after, and Tony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. Sexual fantasies are always your last resource. It means you are desperate.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot skywards. It shouldn’t surprise him that she knew him that well. “For what, exactly?”

“Whatever it is that you are seeking.”

“So, Elphaba,” Tony pursed his lips, “What is it that I’m seeking?”

He could feel her staring at him even as he watched the road when Ziva replied quietly, “I would not know.”

“Hm,” Tony hummed, his mind conjuring up a thousand images per second, “Oh, I think you would.”

Tony’s gaze was pulled to the passenger seat and his heart did that crazy little flip he was familiar with when he found that Ziva was already staring, her face tilted to the side. Her hooded eyes skimmed his face lazily, and Tony felt his mouth turn dry when she started smirking knowingly. Good heavens, all he wanted to do right that instant was to wipe that smirk off her face and convince her to tell him what the hell she was thinking with her eyes sparkling like that.

How did things escalate so quickly when she was concerned?

He was still trying to peer into her head when Ziva’s eyes widened, and Tony cursed out loud as the car bumped into something that made them take a sharp turn to the left, the steering wheel slipping away from his control.

He heard Ziva’s muffled scream before the car distinctively hit a tree - the flashlights illuminating the wide trunk and foliage appearing out of nowhere - and Tony felt all the air being sucked from his lungs because of it.

As soon as the car stopped, Tony saw some type of smoke coming from the bent hood that looked like more than just mere fog. With his fingers still gripping the steering wheel tightly, his heart was racing as he tried to process what had just happened. Then Ziva started cursing in a language he didn’t understand and some relief returned to him when he realized she wasn’t in fact hurt.

“This was your fault,” Tony said without thinking, blinking away the surprise as he ran a hand through his hair.

“And just how exactly was it my fault?” Ziva bit back. “You were the one ‘driving’ it.”

“You kept distracting me,” he swallowed.

Tony saw the sequence of anger, scorn, and annoyance pass her features, and Ziva shot him a sharp glare before opening the door. The sound of the thunderstorm increased for a second before she shut the door behind her, and a sudden uneasiness blurred Tony’s vision when he realized he would need to face the heavy rain to fix whatever mistake he had made.

Stepping out of the car and into the storm, Tony felt his clothes soak immediately, and a strong gust of wind turned them instantly cold. He found Ziva crouching next to the front tire, her hair already dripping wet. She sighed unimpressed and Tony realized that the tire had been punctured, some flicker of hope dying as he remembered they weren’t carrying any spare ones to give space for all the evidence boxes they usually stocked in the trunk.

She must have had the very same thought, because Ziva stood up and crossed her arms, and even in the darkness, Tony could see the disdainful scowl of one deserved ‘I told you so’. He cast her a lip-tight smile that she mimicked it right back, and Tony took out his phone to see unsurprisingly that they had no signal there.

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Tony tried to think of a solution that felt more unattainable with each passing second. He began to shiver when thunder started to resonate across the sky. He looked up and down the road for any sign of life, but there was none - expected, it was the middle of the night in a heavy thunderstorm anyway - and the prospects of having to spend the whole night curled up inside a broken car were turning acutely real.

Tony was already giving up and returning to the car when his eyes fell on the other side of the road and he exhaled out loud at the sight of a small window illuminated by lamplight. Through the rain, he could distinguish the blurred outlines of a little cabin just up the hill and mentally thanked the heavens for making the car break next to some sort of human civilization.

“Where are you going?” asked Ziva as he jumped the highway bumps into the bushes that led to the light.

Tony turned over his shoulder to see that she had stayed next to the car, and halted when she gave him no sign of tagging along.

“Find shelter,” he yelled through the rain, then pointed to the cabin. “We’re lost, it’s the middle of a thunderstorm, and I already sent the photos to McGee.”

Ziva eyed the house with some suspicion and hugged her arms tighter. Tony mentally registered the fact that she was also shivering, but decided not to comment on it when Ziva raised her chin in defiance and stood her ground.

“You can stand here in the rain if you want to,” Tony declared before continuing to walk. “Heard it’s like acid for witches!” his scream sounded in the ravine.

“At least I’m not the one smelling!” Ziva yelled right back, but she appeared to be getting closer to him.

“Or so you think.”

A head slap hit him a second later, and Tony had to bite his tongue not to give her any pleasure from a reaction. Ziva passed him with a smug smile and he watched as she made her way to the cabin, her hips visibly swaying even with all that rain.

He was right. This was going to be a nightmare, in whatever way.

Tony had no other choice than to follow her, the car left forgotten amidst loud thunder and rain.

°°°

The cabin was, in fact, a bed & breakfast, and Tony would’ve been immensely grateful if he wasn’t so irritated by Ziva’s ‘I was right’ attitude, which was driving him mad now. Also, the fact that a bed & breakfast was located up a hill, which was unusual, but Tony just couldn’t complain when he knocked on the door and an old lady opened it instantly, eyeing them with a concerned frown.

“Oh, my poor dears! Come, come.” She pulled them in and closed the door in a hurry, muffling the sound of the storm at the same time the warmth coming from the cabin embraced him.

Tony could’ve sworn he heard Ziva moan right next to him - downright moan out loud - but his mind suddenly felt like mud once he registered how wet she was with her dripping hair and her clothes unfairly clinging to her skin.

How was it possible for someone to be that attractive after being completely drenched by a thunderstorm?

“You’re lucky, so you are,” said the old lady with a pitying look directed at them, “Just half an hour ago, I had two backpackers at the door wanting the room. But they weren’t married. Admitted it right out. No shame. So I sent them packing.” She nodded at someone inside the living room and Tony stretched his neck to find probably the oldest man he would ever find breathing, nodding back at her.

“Right is right,” she continued, glancing at them again, “Rain or no rain. So, it’s Mr. and Mrs.—”

Tony halted, then started coughing to disguise the sudden hysteria that kicked in while Ziva patted his back with more force than necessary.

“David,” Ziva faked a sweet voice.

“DiNozzo,” Tony hissed through the coughing.

Ziva hit him in the stomach and Tony huffed out a breath before shooting her a glare. Ziva was smiling forcefully, her eyes a bit wide as she motioned to the old lady with a sharp move of her head. Tony turned his attention to find the woman narrowing her eyes at them, and instantly felt the opportunity of good accommodation for the night slipping away as easily as it had appeared.

“David-DiNozzo,” Tony said, pulling his best charming grin, then wrapped an arm around Ziva’s shoulders and didn’t miss the protesting hiss she tried to refrain.

“We’re not long married, and the names are so similar we forget,” he continued, but the owner still eyed them with a certain degree of suspicion.

“We pray that one day we’ll be able to have a son and heir to keep it going. Name him Daniel.” Ziva’s nails dug into his thigh. “Or Daisy,” Tony amended through gritted teeth, “Sweet as her mother.”

“Oh,” the woman’s expression softened and Tony mentally noted to tease Ziva about it later.

“Tony…” He tightened his arm around her, “And Ziva to you, ma’am.”

He didn’t know why he’d chosen to give her their real names, but Ziva let out a giggle that didn’t fit her at all and Tony found himself truly laughing, now at how ridiculous it all was.

“Lovely,” replied the old lady with a satisfied grin. She beckoned them in and motioned to the stairs, saying, “Now let’s get you to your room.”

Tony wiggled his eyebrows and saw the amused sparkle in Ziva’s eyes, so fast he wondered if he had seen it at all.

“After you, sweet cheeks,” he said with a duck of his head, adding a brief wink he was sure she had caught.

“Thank you,” Ziva smirked knowingly and passed him to follow the lady upstairs. She looked over her shoulder to add, “Mon petit poi.”

part two of this story next chapter :)

#ncis #tiva #tiva fanfiction #tivatober2020 #once upon a halloween #my fics #this is my favorite romcom so this is basically so self-indulgent #but yeah <333

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zackcollins · 4 years

Text

i still love you || matthew tkachuk

masterlist

Author’s Note: I was listening to the radio yesterday and a song came on that gave me massive Matty vibes. I decided to go for it and write a fic based on the song because everyone probably still needs something to decompress with. The fic is a little bit different than the song but it still has the basic premise of the lyrics; hope that’s okay! GIF credit to matthewtkafuck!

Warnings: I don’t think anything is worth a warning but let me know if I’m wrong. I’ll gladly add whatever it is you think needs one!

Word Count: 1.8k+

Title/Based On: Austin by Blake Shelton

Additional: The reader can be implied to be feminine because of a couple of situations that I’m not going to spoil. As for one of the name of one of the characters I used in the fic. I named the character after the girl in The Reklaws since they came on the radio when I needed a name for the character. Hope that’s okay and I hope you guys enjoy this!

You had come home from work in the worst mood you could possibly imagine. Every one of your coworkers and a majority of the customers had tried your patience. You were ready to go on a destructive rampage through the neighbourhood by the time you pulled into the apartment complex parking garage.

When you walked into your apartment, you could hear your boyfriend, Matthew, playing a video game. By the sounds of it, it was Call of Duty because you could hear him talking to someone. You rolled your eyes as you walked into the living room. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw Matthew wearing his headset and caught a glimpse of the zombies on the screen.

Matthew nodded to acknowledge you, smiling when you placed a kiss to his forehead. He quickly pushed you aside; you guessed it was because of the voice you heard screaming in his ear about the zombies approaching him. You huffed and sat on the couch beside him. You tried to lean onto Matthew for comfort but he shrugged you off of him and looked at you sternly. Your stomach twisted angrily as a feeling of hurt washed over you.

“I need to leave, Matt,” you said.

Matthew raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. He pressed the button on his headset to mute his microphone. “I’ll get the car keys. We can go to the movies or something.” He unmuted his microphone and told whoever he was playing with that he needed to leave for the time being. Matthew powered the Xbox off before sliding his headset off and placing it on the coffee table. He stood up and turned to head toward the foyer to grab his keys.

You sighed, grabbing Matthew’s forearm. Matthew stopped and looked at you. He furrowed his brows and frowned when he saw the distraught look on your face. “No, I need to leave.”

“Oh. Uh…” Matthew dropped his arm from your grasp, sitting back on the couch, and grabbing your hands. You wanted to protest but you were too stressed to put up a fight. “Is there any reason?”

“I just need to clear my mind,” you said, squeezing Matthew’s hands weakly.

Matthew hummed, running his thumbs across your knuckles. You shivered and felt a sudden wave of emotions wash over you. You suddenly felt guilty for doing this but you knew it had to be done; this was what you felt was best for you right now.

You looked at Matthew with hopeful eyes and he smiled back softly. He took one of his hands away from your hand, using it to cup your chin. Matthew leaned in at the moment, pressing a quick goodbye kiss to your lips. You were beyond crushed when it was over. A part of you wanted your last kiss to mean something more; the other part of you was glad it was over quickly. You didn’t think you would be able to hold it together if it got more meaningful.

Dropping Matthew’s other hand, you looked at him with a painful expression. Matthew looked back, his eyes matching your pained gaze. You sighed, stood up, and walked down the hallway to what used to be yours and Matthew’s bedroom.

In the bedroom, you went through your dresser and placed your clothes and some toiletries into a couple of suitcases. You wanted to grab as much as you could before you got cold feet and decided to stay.

It took fifteen minutes but you eventually had accumulated enough contents in both suitcases to be able to drag them out of the bedroom. When you appeared back in front of Matthew, he looked shocked to see the suitcases.

“Fuck,” Matthew said, running a hand through his hair. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

All you could do was nod. You walked to the door of the apartment, looking back at Matthew. You felt your heart shatter when you saw the defeated expression on Matthew’s face. You wanted to turn around and run into Matthew’s arms; you wanted to stay here with Matthew. You knew you couldn’t because you had to take some time to clear your mind and figure out what you really wanted with your life before you continued this--or any--relationship.

You waved briefly to Matthew before you walked out of the door and out on the relationship you had spent three years building.

Ever since you had left your shared apartment that night, you had avoided watching any of Matthew’s pre-, mid-, or post-game interviews. You didn’t want to make the ache in your heart bigger.

You finally broke down and called him about a year after you had moved out, deciding you couldn’t bear the separation any longer. The phone rang times before it went to Matthew’s voicemail. You sighed and were about to hang up when the voicemail message started playing.

“I sold the car. I’m bowling if it’s Tuesday. If you’re selling something, I’m not buying it. If it’s important, wait for the tone; you know what to do. P.S. If this is (Y/N), I still love you.”

The phone fell from your grasp, landing on the counter with a thunk. Hearing that last line made your heart rate speed up and your head swim. You couldn’t believe that Matthew would hold on to his love for you for this long. You wanted to call right back but knew that would do no good; if Matthew didn’t answer the first time, he probably wouldn’t answer the second time.

Instead, you picked up the phone and opened your photo gallery. You opened the album you had made for pictures of you and Matthew together. You skimmed through them, stopping to closely examine your favourite ones.

As you looked at them, you felt your eyes beginning to well with tears. The longer you looked at the pictures, the closer you were getting to crying. When you got to the last picture of you and Matthew, you allowed the tears to stream down your face. The picture was of you and Matthew holding one of his teammate’s children. You inhaled shakily before sliding off the barstool you were sitting on.

You walked down the hallway and into the bedroom beside the bathroom. You walked across the room and bent over the crib, looking in on your daughter. She was sleeping soundly, thumb in her mouth. You took your phone and snapped a quick picture of her and saved it in the album you had created for her.

You leaned down and kissed your daughter’s forehead, sighing softly as soon as you stood back up. You leaned against the wall behind the crib, crossing your arms over your chest. Letting out a shaky sigh, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You look just like your father.”

After sitting and stewing about it, you decided to try and call Matthew again after three days. You owed it to him to tell him that he had a daughter, even if nothing came of the relationship between the two of you. He deserved to at least have a relationship with his daughter.

Much like three days prior, the phone rang three times before going to voicemail. When the voicemail message played, you were surprised to see that Matthew had taken the time to change what it had said.

“I’m playing hockey if it’s Friday. I’m going fishing first thing Saturday morning, so long as it doesn’t rain. I’ll be gone for the whole weekend. If you leave your number, I’ll call you back when I return on Sunday afternoon. P.S. If this is (Y/N), I still love you.”

All you left was your number. You felt like spilling your guts about the fact that Matthew had a daughter over voicemail wasn’t the right thing to do. You felt that was to be discussed when Matthew was able to respond during an actual conversation.

As the days went on, you were anxiously waiting for Sunday afternoon. You had deep cleaned your apartment three different times in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. You had also taken your daughter to your usual Saturday afternoon ‘mommy and me’ baby aerobics class but it felt tense this time. No matter how hard you tried to relax, you couldn’t. Every one of your thoughts was focused on waiting for Matthew to call you back.

When Sunday afternoon finally came, you had almost forgotten about the fact that Matthew was supposed to call. That was evident by the fact that you were in the middle of changing your daughter when your phone rang. When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you nearly had a heart attack when you saw the caller ID. It was Matthew calling. You accepted the call.

“If you’re calling about my heart,” you said, taking a breath to stabilize your voice. “It still belongs to you. I should’ve listened to what it was telling me. Then it wouldn’t have taken me so long to know where I belong.” You paused again, trying to see if you could gauge a reaction from Matthew. His end of the line seemed completely quiet, so you continued talking. “And by the way, this isn’t the voicemail. This is (Y/N). And I still love you. So does your daughter.”

You heard Matthew choke on some air as he started spluttering to breathe. It took a few moments but he eventually regained his composure enough to form coherent words.

“I have a daughter?!” He asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” you replied. “Her name is Jenna.”

Matthew inhaled sharply. “Can I see a picture of her?”

Instead of answering, you pressed a button to switch the call to a video call. Matthew accepted the video call request but had a confused look on his face. It shifted to understanding when you moved your phone to show the face of your daughter. It quickly shifted to something heartwarming after that.

“She…” Matthew said, motioning around her face. “She looks just like me.” His voice was small, almost tentative.

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, sighing shakily.

“Jenna?” Matthew said. Jenna immediately took attention to the fact that her name had been called. “It’s daddy, sweetheart. Hi. How’re you?” Jenna giggled and tried to reach for the phone, a gigantic smile on her face.

You felt your heartbeat sputter at what you had just witnessed. It was the most precious thing you could imagine for the first ‘meeting’ between Matthew and Jenna.

“Where do you live now?” Matthew asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. “The team has our bye week after the game tomorrow. I can visit you and Jenna during it.”

“I’m in Yellowknife,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll get the first flight from Calgary to Yellowknife after the game.”

You felt tears falling from the corners of your eyes. You wiped them away as you looked between Matthew and Jenna. Matthew noticed the tears and exhaled softly.

“Our family is finally going to be together,” Matthew said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s a good thing, (Y/N).” You got too hung up on the fact that he said ‘our’ to respond.

If he really thought like that after having only known about his daughter for ten minutes, you were blessed to have Matthew back in your life.

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