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seijorhi · 3 years

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Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him.

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side.

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case.

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything.

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to.

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that?

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him.

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face.

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you.

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you.

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity.

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you.

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned.

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place.

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you.

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye-

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter.

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace.

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his.

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up.

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!”

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms.

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame.

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him.

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds.

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him.

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable.

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace.

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers.

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust.

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating.

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him.

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw non con #virgin reader

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atsukashii · 4 years

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❝devils advocate❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ In a world of guardian angels, somehow, you got stuck with a guardian demon who is too hot for his own good.

» CHARACTER PAIRING: demon!Katsuki Bakugou x human!reader

» WORD COUNT: 5.1K

» GENRE: demon x human au, guardian demon au

» WARNINGS: 16+; mentions of death (non-character related), blood, swearing & fluff

« masterlist || ao3 »

Everyone on earth had a guardian angel. Guardian angels watched out for you, protecting you until it was eventually your time to pass on. You couldn’t see them, but you would meet them twice within your life. First, when you were born - a memory that would always remain as if had been engraved into your soul, and then again when you died. There had never been a recorded case of someone not having a guardian angel, until you. Your parents had taken you to a doctor once they had become aware of it, thinking something was very wrong. However, the doctor quickly deduced that you were either lying or just simply didn’t remember. Because everyone had one, but somehow you didn’t have one.

You were nine years old when Katuki Bakugou saved your life.

You had been walking home from a dinner reservation with your parents, full-bellied, and full of smiles when the unthinkable happened. What was a shadow on the wall, emerged a man who struck down your parents with only a few swift blows. Knocked to the ground, you stared at the puddle of blood slowly making its way towards you, then to the crimson liquid that splattered from the killer’s brutal swing of his blade. It was on your hands, your clothes, everywhere. You don’t remember much of what he had said back then, but you remembered the way the moonlight glinted off his silver blade, as he rose it over his head - his intention to make you his next victim, only for him to never have the chance to even bring the weapon down. The killer just...evaporated into a bloody mist. You remembered how the air around you seemed to tense, the smell of electricity entering your nose as you looked upon this new stranger who had appeared from literally nowhere and had saved your life.

You didn’t know much about guardian angels but you knew they were meant to have wings of white feathers. This...thing didn’t. Instead, his wings were jet black, dark membrane that resembled the wings of a bat, but with razor-sharp a looking talon’s on the top of each wing. They were utter terrifying.

He stared at you for a moment and just watched, his red eyes glowing in the dark alley. Dressed from head to toe in black, it was a stark contrast to his ash blonde hair, but it was his eyes - that crimson gaze that once turned on you, your body had trembled in fear. He had walked towards you, so menacingly that you had scrambled away until your back met the wall of the alleyway.

“P-please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry, p-p-please…” you had cried and begged, your voice weak and quiet. You were just a kid and maybe that was why he had spared you that day. Instead of misting you like he had the other guy. Your eyes moved from him to your parents, still on the floor of the alleyway and you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. A cold hand met your face, turning your head from the sight and made your eyes meet his crimson gaze. His eyes glowed in the darkness whilst also seeming to suck you in as he searched for something. Letting out a scoff at whatever it was he found, he dropped his hand from your face and glared at you.

“No guardian huh?” Your heart stopped inside your chest for the millionth time that night. How had he known? “Listen up kid, from now on you’re under my protection. Nothings going to happen to you. Now get the fuck up,” And so far, he had been true to his word.

Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t an angel, he was a demon. Something you hadn’t realised was real until that day, but if guardian angels were, it made sense that they were too. And for some reason, Katsuki had made it his mission to be your guardian...of sorts. He seemed to step into your life whenever he chose and took advantage of the fact that no one else could see him or hear him, a lot. He was a sarcastic asshole ninety percent of the time, and the other ten percent was when he went lethal and became death incarnate. He revelled in the fact that he was a major pain in the ass and liked to be the vaguest creature on the planet, dodging all your questions about him and demons in general. But over time, you’d gotten somewhat used to it. When you were younger, he was around sparingly, but once you had moved out of your grandparent’s house and into a boarding school, his appearances became more frequent, until he was spending almost every day with you. You both loved it and hated it. He could be nice, but it was rare, and instead had decided to hang around frequently purely to annoy the crap out of you. He would spend a lot of time just hanging out with you in your dorm room doing incredibly mundane things, and acting like he despised every second of it and had better things to do - yet never actually made a move to leave.

And today was no different. You are supposed to be doing your homework as you’ve got exams soon and should really be paying attention as you’re in your final year of high school. Graduation was so close you can almost taste it, and then you wouldn’t have to see anyone from this pompous and obnoxious school ever again. But the weather outside was dreary and the rain and could cover had motivated you not to do school work, but instead to get out your notebook and draw. So you sit at your desk, music playing from your phone, softly flowing through the room as you for the millionth time, trace a familiar shaped eye. You weren’t sure when you had first started drawing Katsuki, but whenever you sat down with something in your hand, purposely to draw - he tended to be the first thing that came out. A familiar scent of a thunderstorm floods the room and you feel yourself relax in your chair as loud swearing breaks the peaceful quiet.

“Hey idiot, clean up your damn room. You can barely see the fucking floor!” Looking over your shoulder to the blonde, you drop your eyes to the small pile of washing on the floor and roll your eyes. So dramatic. You ignore the remark and turn back to your drawing, not caring if he sees what you’re doing - he was already past the point of teasing you and now just critiques your work. “I ain’t fucking ugly!’ was his favourite retort about your drawings. You hear Katsuki walk over towards you, looking over your shoulder to the sketchbook on your desk, and then shifting to the unfinished homework in the corner. He scoffs at your antics, but can’t be surprised as you handing in uncompleted homework is a common thing at this school. You weren’t exactly the star pupil.

“Do your fucking homework y/n.” he badgers you. He constantly nags you over the most trivial things, like making sure you’re eating, getting out of bed on days when you just want to sleep through the whole day. For someone who can strike the fear of death into the hearts of grown-ass men, he sure acts like a mother hen a lot of the time.

“It’s just math stuff… I’ll do it later. And besides, my teacher has it out for me I swear.” You defend, but he just scoffs like he doesn’t believe you and sits on the edge of your bed. It’s then that you notice the plastic bag in his hands. Raising your eyebrows, spin your chair towards him, and hold out your hands.

“What did you get this time?” You ask, giddy at the surprise dinner that happens most nights because you don’t want to face your classmates in the communal kitchen.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. You ain’t getting any idiot until you fucking start your homework.” Katsuki growls, pulling a plastic bowl from the bag and the smell of Italian food makes your stomach rumble. You glare at the blonde, knowing well how this is going to play out.

“You would deny me sustenance that I need to make my brain work out of pure spite?” You ask. The demon’s eyes swirl with amusement and you know that you’re winning.

“Don’t you use that fucking pity card with me.” He says, standing up to his full height and placing the bowl on your desk. “Eat, then do your fucking work idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, giving in easily before falling back onto your bed and opening his own food. You grab the plastic utensils and practically dive into the ravioli. The creamy flavour bursting on your tongue if so rich you groan.

“Where did you get this?” You ask, and the look Katsuki gives you - you can basically hear his response in your own mind. Where do you think I got it, idiot? With his ability to slip into shadows, your guardian demon also has a knack for travelling to other sides of the world in seconds, just for food. You have knickknacks from around the world in your dorm room from when he travels and you convince him to buy you something small. He’s got a dark sense of humour, so a lot of the things can be kinda creepy or just plain stupid, but you don’t mind. The fact that he brings you something is enough. You had a feeling he had once again, slipped into shadows and gotten tonight's dinner freshly from the homeland of pasta, and you wonder if he somehow knew you were craving Italian food. You both eat in silence before something on your desk catches Katsuki’s eye, and he can’t help but open his mouth.

“What the hell is that?” you follow his gaze to the partially scrunched up flyer sitting on top of your school books and sigh.

“A flyer for the school dance on Friday.” You say, shoving ravioli into your mouth so you don’t have to keep talking about it. You don’t really have a lot of friends, its a fact that you’re not embarrassed about. It was just the fact that you didn’t have a guardian angel had gotten you teased when you were younger, and add on top of that what happened to your parents - people thought you were bad luck and tended to stay far from you. But today, something had changed.

“And you’re going to go to that fuck fest?” Your food gets caught in your throat and you momentarily choke from his words. He has no filter. Your eyes water as you drink from your water bottle, you look at Katsuki whos watching you with his regular frown. Not even concerned in the slightest that you were just choking.

“No, I don’t think so…” You manage to get out, putting the lid back on your now-empty food bowl and pushing it to the corner of your desk. You can feel his glare at the back of your head as you hesitate to grab your books, but like usual, the demon wins and you grab your homework. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking at you. Him and his stupid smug face. Opening your books, you let out a sigh at the work. Katsuki has an unnerving ability to see straight through you, so you’re not surprised when he suddenly snaps at you.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘i don’t think so’?” he growls and you just shrug.

“I was asked.” You suddenly blurt out, your cheeks pink as you recall the awkward conversation earlier that day between you and a guy in your class. Because you didn’t really have a lot of friends at school, when you were asked by one of the most attractive guys in your grade, to say you were surprised was an understatement.

The demon just blinks at you, shock actually evident on his face, which is a first. He hides a lot of his emotions from you, basically everything other than anger and annoyance, and somewhat amusement.

“Someone asked you?” Katsuki grumbles, and something in his tone annoys you. He says it as if the thought of someone asking you was so unthinkable, and that hurt. Turning towards him, you give him a proper glare that has him stilling - not out fear because you’re you, and he is a demon - but just interest. He knows he’s annoyed you, it’s something he does a lot - but this time he’s properly pissed you off.

“Is that so hard to imagine?” you snarl at the blonde. If he’s taken back by your pissed off tone, he doesn’t let it show.

“Didn’t mean it like that idiot. I only meant that you don’t really hang out with a lot of people.” He was digging himself a deeper hole. “And why the fuck would you want to go anyways? I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re a demon and ‘mundane shit is beneath you,’” you quote the words he has used against you multiple times before. You don’t give him a chance to respond before you go off again. “And I want to go because I feel like I’m missing out on some big thing in the whole ‘high school experience’ if I don’t. I didn’t get the stereotypical school adventure that other people seem to get. I didn’t go to parties or sports events. So I’m going to this dance because someone asked me, and if you’ve got a problem with that you can leave.” You’re breathing hard when you finish, glaring with everything in you at him. He simply scoffs at you and gets up from your bed.

“Whatever. Go to the fucking dance, I’ve got shit to do.” for a moment your heart lurches in your chest as he moves away from you and towards the door as if he’s actually going to use it. The thought of him leaving always makes you feel uneasy for reasons you can’t really explain, maybe you’ve just got some weird separation anxiety from him seeing as he’s always around.

“Katsuki-” His eyes are on yours as he steps into a shadow and then he’s gone. You let out a sigh and turn back to your desk, looking at your drawing book still open, his eyes in monochrome staring back at you. You close the book harshly and lean back on your chair.

Why is he such an asshole?

❀ ❀ ❀

Friday comes around quickly but doesn’t go the way you were expecting it to. The dance begins at seven, yet here you are at half-past, sitting on your bed. You’d scrambled to find a dress and even put on makeup, and it was all for fucking nothing. Because you have been stood up. The whole thing was a damned joke, he never wanted to take you. You’re eyes sting and you quickly sniff - no I will not let this mediocre, insignificant guy ruin my damn makeup! you coach yourself, trying not to let it hurt as much as it does. You reach up to rub your nose until suddenly, striding out of nowhere like he owns the place, Katsuki appears in your room. You hadn’t seen him since he walked out on you two days ago. At first, you were pissed because you were his friend and he was being petty. But then, you’d missed him, a lot. You’d missed him lecturing you on your untidy room, you’d missed him when you had to walk to the food court for dinner, you had missed his smug face when he would catch you looking at him when you were reading and he was sitting doing god knows what. You had just missed his presence a lot, and that made you realise that you really liked this demon that had come into your life in the worst of times, yet somehow made it a whole lot better.

You’re about to question what the heck he’s doing here when he stops in his spot and looks over you. The red dress a now waste of money, along with the heels on your feet. It was all for nothing. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some dance right now?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous as he slowly puts things together. He probably already knows what’s happened just by looking at you, he’s too intelligent not to.

“I got stood up.” You explain embarrassed. You should have listened to Katsuki when he said it was a bad idea. Something deadly flickers to life in his vermilion gaze, and he suddenly spins, stalking for the door with a lithe swiftness that you know means he’s about to go and cause someone grievous bodily harm. Nope nope nope, that’s not happening. “It’s fine, Katsuki. Really.” Your words make him stop in his spot, and he turns half towards you, searching your face. “It was stupid to want to go anyways. You were right, it was a waste.”

“No it’s fucking not.” He hisses, pure rage radiating off him pulses. Closing his eyes, he lets out a sharp breath where you could have sworn you actually saw steam come from his nose. But then he looks you over once more, taking in the rare appearance of you in a dress. Thinking back on it, there’s a high chance that he’s never seen you in one, as you normally opt for shorts or jeans.

“Fuck this.” Katsuki sighs. He snaps his fingers and in the blink of an eye, his jeans and tee shirt are swapped for slacks and a button-up. Still pitch black in classic Katsuki fashion and his hair is still a mess but he’s dressed up and you can’t help but admit that he looks really handsome. You stare at him, processing the action for a moment. He looks so different. His wings are gone, you didn’t even know he could do that, heck you didn’t know he could snap his fingers and bam! If you didn’t already know he was a demon and you wanted to die, you’d tease him about how fairy-like that was. But again, you value your life.

It’s odd though, to see him without his wings. He almost looks like a regular person, but there is something about him, that makes him look like something more than human. Maybe it’s the sharp jaw or the piercing eyes, you weren’t sure - but there’s something other-worldly that he couldn’t seem to contain.

“Get off your ass.” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and you stare at him as he stands with his hand on the door handle holding it open. Shifting your gaze between the open doorway and him, you glance up at his face and at his serious expression. He’s not joking, he’s going to the dance. For you, with you, so you can go and won’t be alone.

You can’t contain your smile as you stand up and practically skip to the doorway. Happiness bubbling inside you and you want to grin, but for his sake, you calm it down and settle on a small smile. He rolls his eyes and offers you his arm. He’s full of surprises tonight, you think as you take it.

He doesn’t make a single grumble or comment as you head to the school gymnasium, and you hold your tongue as he hands the person at the door two tickets. How the hell did he even get those? The student collecting tickets eyes you both as you walk inside. It’s so cringe and everything you pictured it would be, and you can’t help but grin. Streamers dangle from the roof, white table cloths and balloons cover the tables, dim lighting and somewhat loud music - its perfect. You look to Katsuki who is eyeing your smile with raised eyebrows. I can’t believe you like this shit, he seems to say, but from the small smile on his face you know he’s amused by you.

“Come on idiot, let’s go.” As you walk through the throngs of people towards a table, you feel their eyes sticking to you like glue, shocked to see you here. And it’s then that you realise that other people can see him - you didn’t even know that was possible.

“I didn’t know you could make yourself be seen by people.” You mutter to him. Katsuki scoffs at you and gives you his typical ‘you’re an idiot’ expression.

“Of course I can, how the fuck do you think I saved your life dumbass?” He says, mentioning when you had first met and he… Okay, that makes sense. But he’s never done this before, he’s never let himself be seen by other people, he’s never changed his appearance like this either… You come to the realisation just how big of a deal this is for him, and you squeeze his arm in thanks. He flexes his arm under your touch and you know that’s his version of telling you it wasn’t a big deal.

You two spend the rest of the night laughing as Katsuki rips into other people and making up random crap about them just to make you laugh. His attempt to cheer you up isn’t missed by you, and you’re so grateful that he’s trying. People glance at you both every so often, wondering just who he is, but no one has approached to ask - however, that’s most likely due to the vicious glare that Katsuki drills into anyone that comes too close to your table. But you’re thankful for the fact that its just the two of you.

The music switches to something slow and you can’t help but eye the people coupling off in the middle of the gymnasium floor. Looking quickly at Katsuki who looks too good to be true in the blue lighting, you suck in a breath and prepare yourself. Ignoring the sudden nervous rollercoaster-worthy butterflies springing to life in your stomach, you stand from your chair and shove your hand towards your guardian demon.

“Dance with me.” You try to say with confidence. Katsuki’s lips tick up ever so slightly at your lame attempt of assurance.

“I ain’t dancing with you, idiot.” He says, leaning back in his chair and pretending to get comfortable. Maybe if you didn’t know him any better you would have thought he was serious, and that dancing was his limit. But you had known Katsuki for years and spent more time with him then you had with anyone ever. You knew him, and he knew you. And you knew that although it would probably earn you grumbling, groaning and eternal complaints, he would do it.

“Please…” With an over-dramatic groan, Katsuki raises from his chair and takes your hand. Your cheeks instantly warm at the contact, and your heart jumps to your throat as he leads you from the table. It’s not the first time he’s touched you, he’s held you before on sleepless nights where you’ve woken up from nightmares of your parents and sat with you tucked into his side until you can determine what’s real and what’s not. But this time, it’s different; you realise you want him to hold your hand. You want him to tuck you into his chest and hold you - and you want him to want too as well. He guides you out to the crowd of people and walks you right to the middle before placing his warm hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. Your arms brace yourself on his chest as you crash into him, and he grins wildly at your blushing face.

You sway side to side, ignoring everyone else in the room as you look up to him. Not in a million years did you ever think you would find yourself here, but it was harder to wrap your head around the fact that it was with Katsuki, the demon that had taken it upon himself to look out for you.

“Why are you doing this for me?” You have to ask. You have to know if he feels the same way as you. Because if he doesn’t then you’ve got to draw some sort of lines, because your heart won’t be able to take it - no matter how much it will hurt to separate yourself from him.

His vermillion eyes stare into yours, and you feel yourself being slightly sucked in. He had told you at first that it was a demon thing, but maybe it’s just a Katsuki thing. They glinted like rubies when the lights hit them, and as much as he would hate you saying it - he was very pretty.

“Because I didn’t want you to miss out on something that obviously meant so much to you dumbass.” Alright, that was a logical answer. But there was something more than he was withholding from you, you knew it.

“Please…” the whisper left your mouth, and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Tearing his gaze from you, your eyes settled on his throat just in time to see him swallow nervously. Surely not. You couldn’t even remember a time when you had ever seen him anything other than confident.

“When I first found you, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Something pulled me to that alleyway that night and I still don’t know what or why. Once I saw what was going on, I was going to leave you there.” his admission rocks you, and instinctively try to step back, but his arms tighten around you - locking you in place and keeping you close to him. “And then I saw your parents, and you on the floor and I had to do something.” He sighs, hanging his head slightly so you can hear him better. “There are laws, even for my kind, that we have to follow. And that day, I broke a lot of them - and have continued to do so every day since then.” He says, his explanation surprising you. He doesn’t really talk about his private life, and or what really goes on with demons. So him even telling you this, its a lot. He moves slightly, now looking into your eyes with complete severity and something else in his gaze that traps the air inside your lungs.

“I can’t explain what I’m doing, because I don’t even fucking know. But I know one thing, and that’s the fact I want to be around you all the damn time, and if I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you and it drives me fucking crazy.” his hands tighten on your hips as if trying to tether you to this moment for as long as he can. Because with his revelations, your brain is threatening to float away but you force yourself to stay grounded to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so long.

“All I want is you, dumbass.” Holy shit. Katsuki is smiling softly down at you, and you honestly can’t believe what’s currently happening, but you honestly know if you don’t kiss him now you will spontaneously combust.

You don’t even give him a chance to breathe before you grab his cheeks, raising on your toes and crush his lips to yours. You feel him tense beneath your hands and for a split second, you think shitshitshitshit and try to pull away. Then in a movement too fast to be natural, a hand moves to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and proceeding to make your legs turn into noodles. You should probably care that you’re in the middle of a high school dance right now, but you can’t bring yourself to. All you care about is the demon currently stealing the breath from your lungs and making butterflies swarm your stomach in a mad panic. Your lips separate by just a few inches, and you finally breathe again, unsure as to if you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen or the kiss, but you have a feeling its both. The smug smile that tugs at Katsuki’s mouth make you think its probably the latter.

“Um, I...” You want to say something other than that, but your brain and mouth are no longer working together, so you momentarily stand there like a moron, which makes the guy in front of you smug as hell.

“If I knew that’s what it took to shut you up, I would have done that a long time ago.” Katsuki grins another feral smile and you can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from your lips. Your face floods with embarrassment over your lack of motor skills and you lean your forehead against his chest. The sound of his pounding heart makes you grin too, knowing that you’re not the only one affected by this new massive thing in your life. Katsuki’s hand brushes your head softly and you close your eyes, just letting yourself sway along with him to the music. You realise that the argument you had earlier in the week wasn’t about the dance, but someone taking you to the dance… and of course, he couldn’t come to that conclusion and asked you himself because he’s too stubborn and is a demon… He’s a demon, the reality jumps around your brain, and you try to find the problem with the statement, but you can’t. Not when he is who he is.

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” You ask against his chest.

“I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not going to be easy. There’s so much I need to tell you,” Looking up at him, he lets you see the insecurity surrounding your response, something he wouldn’t let anyone normally see. Did he honestly think that you were going to leave now? After all of that?

“Nothing in my life has ever really been easy,” you point out, unable to hide your smile once again. “So I’m not surprised that anything surrounding you would be anything but.” Any hesitation he had is gone as he leans his forehead against yours, a sigh slipping from his lips. You can’t hold the words in, and for once, they come out with such conviction, it leaves no room for doubt.

“I love you Katsuki,” His eyes are closed, but his smile is wide, and you can see the happiness in his features.

“Thank you y/n.” Unsure as to why exactly he’s thanking you, you tighten your arms around him and this time he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you too, y/n.” You revel in the words, closing your eyes and swaying along to the music.

Katsuki Bakugou was a demon who had saved your life when you were nine years old, and you were stupidly, irrevocably in love with him, and that would never change.

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Between the Stars [Prologue]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Summary: Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on.

A/N: It’s a military AU which I forgot to mention because I’m an ass. Starting you out with some seriously sad shit right out of the gate. I am sorta sorry. Sorta not. @teamcap4bucky Read a preview and responded with “fucking, fuck you” so that should give you an idea of what you’re going into. There is a lot of angst but it’s not gratuitous. It’s purposeful and shows the ups and downs of grief and moving on. I think I grabbed everyone’s tags if not shoot me a message. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“I’m serious, Y/n.”

“Okay,” You mocked teasingly. “You’re serious.”

Steve growled, teasing smile curling up the edge of his lips despite the frustration in his eyes. He gripped your waist and pulled you away from his duffle, ignoring your yelp of protest and settling you on his lap. His pants scratched the back of your bar legs. You hated those stupid pants, they were stiff and uncomfortable. They made him look like someone you didn’t know. Or, at least someone you didn’t want to know.

Your fingers find the soft, worn fabric of the ugly tan shirt he had to wear — Army regulation or not, it was still ugly. The fabric twisted around your fingers, pulling it from his pants, ruining his pristine appearance. Maybe if his shirt was wrinkled, he would get in trouble and not have to go. It was unlikely. He had a unit to command, but a frightened wife could dream, couldn’t she?

This was the fourth deployment the two of you have gone through together. The stupid support groups were all liars. It didn’t get easier after the first, it got harder. You knew the risks before, but now you understood, really understood what they meant. Things became second nature that shouldn��t be second nature for anyone. Like turning your television on in the morning, to see if there would be a notification officer and chaplain knocking on your door within the next eight hours. Every night that passes without a call leaves you wondering if the last time you spoke would truly be the last.

It leaves you panicked. Did you say I love you enough? Did he say it to you? Will you ever be lucky enough to hear it one more time?

But then the call comes, and everything is right for the twenty minutes you get to hear his voice.

The sparks are gone just as fast as he is.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice had lost the hard, playful edge. It was soft. The softness he used when he tried to coax you awake in the morning, or when Steve spilled the secrets hidden within that generous heart of his — the same gentleness Steve used whenever he told you he loved you.

A roughened index finger tapped under your chin and tilted your head up from where it was hiding in his neck.

“I meant what I said. This is the last one. I’m done after this.”

It was that time again. Re-enlisting. You knew Fury had attempting to convince Steve to stay and true to his word Steve would shake his head and end the conversation before they ever got far. The Army could be persuasive, though.

“You really think they will let you go?”

Steve cupped your cheek and tightened his hold on your hip, tugging you securely onto his lap, so your legs hung off one side. “They won’t have much choice. I’ve given them all I can give them.”

“B-But--”

Steve leaned in and swallowed your broken protests in a gentle kiss. You didn’t have time for more, so it was nothing salacious, but his lips lingered far longer than they should if you were in public. Thankfully, you were still home and could savor the feel of his lips. The cool air hit your barely swollen lips, and you shuddered, immediately wishing he would kiss you again. You wanted to keep that warmth for just a little longer.

“No buts. Do you trust me, Y/n?”

You searched his eyes, bright, full of hope and vulnerable like they always were when he looked at you.

“With my life. You know, I do.”

Steve grinned, and if you weren’t already in love with him, you would be falling fast.

“I promise you, Y/n. This is it. My last tour and then I’m all yours. We can do everything we said we would and finally start a family.”

You could feel your eyes burning from tears; you refused to let fall. Steve brushed a kiss under your right eye, letting you know it was okay to let them fall if you wanted.

“Do you really promise? This is the last time?” You finally whispered.

“I do. There’s nothing that could keep me from coming to you. Fifteen months, baby. I just need you to hang on for fifteen months.”

You huffed a watery laugh and wiped those insolent tears away. “I can wait fifteen months for you. I’d wait forever, Steve.”

—

“—Steven Grant Rogers. A man who was devoted to his country and his lovely wife—”

You blinked several times, your eyes focused on the dark wood five feet in front of you, and the words all ran together in your ears. You didn’t need to hear the kind of man your husband is. You knew. You knew how kind and selfless and courageous he is—he was.

A cool breeze ruffled up the edges of your black dress and left you with a chill buried deep in your bones, one that would never leave you. At least the weather had behaved. There was no rain, the sun was glowing through what little clouds were nearby. It was the kind of day Steve would have called perfect. There was nothing perfect about today, no matter how brightly the damn sun insisted on shining. You had briefly thought of having the service inside some church somewhere, but neither of you attended enough while he was living to make that an option. Sarah had argued with you, they wouldn’t care about that. No one would judge you or ask you to leave, sweetheart. Deep down, you knew that. It simply didn’t feel like Steve, and you wanted his last moments with you to be him.

Finally, you settled on the park where you met all those years ago, where he proposed, and under the tree where you vowed to love him forever seemed like the only right place to say goodbye. You don’t know how but between Sam and Nat, they found a way to make it happen. You assumed some strings were pulled, favors called in that you could never repay.

At least Steve came home to you.

Even if it wasn’t the way, he promised to come home to you.

You can’t help but glance to your left, Sam was standing there in his dress uniform, shoulders squared and face blank. If you didn’t know him so well, you would think he was simply another soldier paying respects to Captain Rogers. You knew his tells. That clenched jaw, the tightened fists, and the slow, deep breaths he took every few minutes as if he has scheduled them out. Sam’s hand startled you when it reached yours, his fingers threading with your own. He wasn’t supposed to do that, and as if he could read your mind, his shoulder shrugged, and the faintest smirk appeared.

It was nice, but you couldn’t help but feel like something— someone was missing.

“Why didn’t Bucky come?”

You should be quiet, but your silence wouldn’t change who you were burying today or the fact that you were going home alone tonight and every night from here on out. Keeping quiet wouldn’t change that you will never get to kiss or hold your husband again. Everyone in attendance will go back home to their spouses tonight, they get to leave and breathe a sigh of relief because it wasn’t them. They will go home to hold their loved ones and whisper how they won’t ever leave them the way Steve left you and make promises for more because they still have a future where promises and more exist.

So, if anyone had a problem with your whispers, they could go to hell.

“He needed to stay with the rest of the unit,” Sam whispered, tightening his hold on your hand for some reason you weren’t sure of. You’ve already heard the worst. You doubt anything Sam said at this point could hurt you. “Someone had to stay behind, and he thought it would be better for guys and… for you.”

Turned out you were wrong.

You ignored the pinching in your chest and turned back to face the preacher, your concession to Sarah though it still felt a little off. Part of you had hoped Bucky would be there to help with everything, so when the plane landed a few days before, you had been surprised to see Sam had escorted Steve back home instead of Bucky. Not because they weren’t close or because Steve didn’t love Sam like a brother. He absolutely did, but it’s always been Steve and Bucky for as long as anyone could remember. You found it hard to believe Bucky wouldn’t put up a fight to be here for goodbye.

The casket flag was slowly pulled from atop the casket, and dizziness hit you. It was nearly over. You felt your eyes fall closed, and the voices around you faded away. Everything blurred. You didn’t want this. None of this was fair. You were supposed to have forever, and now you had nothing. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He promised. Steve promised, and he didn’t break promises!

Especially ones made to you.

“Sam?” You whispered.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. They were on the 8th fold. Each fold took another piece of you, just another chip of whatever was left of the person you were. Whoever that girl was, the moment that flag was in your hands, you knew you would never be that girl again.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can do this.” You whimpered as a few tears began to fall.

“I’ll go with you—”

“No, I can’t do this… go on alone. Without him. I can’t—I just can’t.”

“You’re not alone, Y/n. We are all here for you for as long as you need.”

Everyone but Bucky.

A man you didn’t recognize, a nameless face approached you, thirteen folds between his hands, a tiny crooked hat made out of stars and stripes. Strange how something only a little bigger than your purse, could destroy the rest of your life. The man stood stoically and met your eyes as he repeated what you were sure was a well-rehearsed line he practiced many times.

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

You wished it could do something to ease to the ache. They were hollow words that meant nothing. Through the haze that had fallen over you, taking away the sun and the clouds, you must have reached out with shaking hands because Sam stepped forward to help support the newly added weight, guiding it into your arms. You clutched the flag against your chest, holding on to all you had left of your husband. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed to whoever would listen, Please let me wake up now. Please, please let this be a nightmare.

No savior was coming; it wasn’t a dream, and Steve was never coming home.

Masterlist // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #past!Steve Rogers x reader #alternate universe #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #tw: character death #character death #military au #tw: military death #tw: death of a spouse

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fookinfandoms · 4 years

Text

When in Rome | Samuel Drake

Part One! Next chapters will most likely have smut.

Posted on Ao3! Find me on there!

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence.

Taglist: @courtenbae <3

____________________________________

You weren’t sure why Nate had asked for you to fly to Italy of all places.

But you weren’t exactly complaining. Italy had always been on your bucket list, but you wouldn’t be lying if you thought you’d be here under different terms. The hotels were booked under your name, and Sully had organised the limo.

It had been some time since you had done any jobs for your friend, and the idea of dressing up always excited you. You were an I.T specialist, and Nate specifically favoured your hacking skills.

Having hacked the auction system, you had successfully gotten not only your name, but Sully’s on the guest list. Nate insisted he had his own way in, and you didn’t question him.

You had been friends with the Drake since you were both teenagers, having met him when he was running around with his older brother Sam. Speaking of the older Drake, reading over text that Sam was alive and well wasn’t exactly something you were expecting, but it made you happy nonetheless. You hadn’t seen him since before his departure to Panama, and that was well over fifteen years ago.

Fifteen years.

You were 34 now, and at 19 years old you were always the butt of every joke with Samuel. He would tease you constantly about preferring the technical side of life, or how your glasses were to big for your head, or how you dressed like a grandma.

That part of you was gone. Doing the hard labour as well as the hacking was apart of your resume, Nate even using you as a distraction a handle of times during his work. You just prayed that the night didn’t end bad, not exactly liking the idea of having to climb or shoot your way out in such a tight outfit.

Dressed in a floor length red dress, your back exposed and the neckline a little too deep for your liking, you make your way across the floor with Sully at your side. He was to open a window and let the brothers in and so you excused yourself, making your way to the bar. Your heels clicked against the ground, and you ignored the eyes on you as you stand by a stool.

Ordering yourself a scotch on the rocks, the bartender makes some comment about ordering such a strong drink, and you laugh him off. It was a ‘look the part - play the part situation’ and he winks at you as you say thank you in Italian. Taking the drink and waiting near the bar, the doors in the back open, and you spot Nathan before you spot Sully and Sam.

Sam.

He looked good. Unfortunately for you, there was that small part of you that had crushed on the older man. He wasn’t older than you by a lot, but when you were 19, the idea of liking your friends older brother never felt right. Age had been kind to him, and It didn’t help that the added years of muscle and tattoos made your eyes wide.

Stop it.

You’re not some horny teenager.

Ordering another drink for Sully, you continuing eyeing your friends before making your way over. Nate spotted you first, offering you a friendly smile as Sully copies him. Sam’s back was facing you, and as you’re about to stand between him and his brother, he turns around. His eyes roam every inch of your body, focusing a little more on the areas that would have earned him a slap had you been somebody else.

“Well hello gorgeous,” His accent was thicker than you remember, and you thought he was kidding until you saw Nate cringe from beside him. “Can I help you?”

Even Sully frowns at the Drake, and you raise your eyebrow at the man, realising he was in fact, not kidding. “Sam? It’s me… (Y/N)?”

His eyes widen, giving you a once over once more. He shakes his head at you, looking back at your companions as if waiting for one of them to say you were lying. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Yeah, guess getting old is fun huh?” You hand Sully his drink while Sam still looks at you in shock.

“I asked (Y/N) to give us a hand in all of this, she’s been quite the help over the years.” Nate speaks up, and you smile at him.

“Hang on a minute here, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that this,” He waves his hand in your direction. “Is (Y/N), our little nerd (Y/N) with the big ass glasses.” He then shapes the glasses with his hands, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Still the same Sam.

“Yeah, it’s called contacts, they work wonders.” You chime in, and Sam just sighs, his hand sliding over his chin as he looks at you.

“Well you look stunning (Y/N), the years have definitely been good to you.” He, once again, glances at your body, eyebrow raising as you huff at him.

“You’re saying I was an ugly kid?”

“Not ugly at all, more that y-“ Nate interrupts his older brother, stopping him from embarrassing himself any further. You hate to admit it, but you definitely missed Sam and his stupid way of talking. He had always been the cocky bastard, and you were pleased that prison hadn’t killed that part of him.

“We gotta figure out how we’re getting in that door.” Sully points towards the door behind them, and you eye it, noticing its electronic.

“Give me a bit and I could get it open.” You offer, and Nate nods.

“That could work, you have your phone on you?” Nodding at him, you pat your small purse, but you quickly pretend to converse with Sam as the exact door you were talking about opens, a waiter leaving. He eyes your little group before making his way to the crowd.

He places his keycard in his back pocket, and you tilt your head towards it. “Or we could just take the card, that’ll save time.”

“(Y/N) thieving? You have changed.” Sam pipes up, and you wink at him.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” It was true, you had a number of successful jobs up your sleeve.

“Do tell.” His voice get’s a little lower, and Nate clears his throat.

“We gotta get our hands on that keycard.” He points to the waiter, ignoring whatever conversation he just had to hear.

“Then what?” You ask, eyeing the waiter in the crowd.

“Sam’s going to play dress ups and Nate’s going to cut the power.” Sully answers, and you give him a slow nod.

Sounded like an easy plan. Both brothers go to move to pickpocket the waiter, Sam letting Nathan take the first attempt. Everybody watches as he sneaks up behind the man, but evidently fails as he walks off.

“Oh, real smooth.” Sam quips, and Nathan replies something about ‘not even trying yet.’

He tries again, and fails once more. The drake at your side chuckles at his brothers failure, looking down at you as he winks. “Wanna see something impressive? Keep watching sweetheart.”

Sam takes over, stalking the waiter as Nathan rolls his eyes. You cross your arms over, watching as the older brother attempts to pick pocket. Just like his brother, he fails and you chuckle, giving him a thumbs up as he frowns. He tries again, and the waiter turns around, looking at Sam in confusion. He says something to him, and the waiter points to the staircase.

The Drake excuses himself, making his way back to your group. “That was impressive Sam, I haven’t seen you eat absolute shit in fifteen years.”

He scoffs as the other men chuckle, and you sigh, handing your purse to the older man. Sully takes it, eyeing you as you fix your hair and perk your breasts up in your dress. Both Nate and Sully look away as they awkwardly cough, but Sam watches intently as you roll your eyes at him yet again.

“You’re gonna do a lift sweetheart?” He asks, and you ignore him, making your way over to the where the waiter was last standing.

He had walked further into the crowd, and you grabbed a glass of champagne from another passing waiter as you spot him.

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Sam asks his brother, and Nathan nods before shushing him, focusing on the lift.

You make a beeline for the man, and before you know it you’ve stumbled into him, right hand grabbing the keycard from his back pocket as your left hand raises the glass higher. He turns around instantly, and you’ve already shoved the keycard up your sleeve when your right hand grabs onto his shoulder in a fake attempt to steady yourself.

"Mi dispiace!” You purposely make the pronunciation sound loose, and immediately his attention is on you. Eyes wandering over you as you give him your best smile. Drama was never your specialty, but men were stupid when it came to a pretty face.

Your boys watch as the waiter attempts to make sure you’re okay, staring up at you in your high heels. You’re touching his shoulder still, apologising profusely for running into him, blaming it on somebody who pushed you.

“Oh she’s good,” Sam remarks, and Sully nods at him, all still watching you. “Now why can’t you do that Nathan?”

“Because I don’t have boo-You know what? Shut up.” Nathan scoffs at his older brother, and before he knows it, you’re already on your way back the them.

Pulling out the keycard from your sleeve, you hand it to Sully, an amused expression on your face. “Never send a Drake to do a woman’s job.”

“Your words hurt me.” Sam holds his hand over his heart, and you scoff at him, nudging him with your elbow.

“Nice work,” Nathan nods at you. “We ready?”

You all nod at him and as Sully goes to open the door, you stop him, pulling out a bunch of earpieces from your purse. “We’ll still need these.”

Nate mutters a ‘great’ as they all take one, placing in their ear. You do the same, hiding the piece with your hair. The brothers leave through the door, leaving you with Sully.

“Testing that you boys can hear me.” You speak casually, your older companion nodding at you as you hear Nate through your earpiece.

“Loud and clear (Y/N).” His voice comes out clear, and you smile to yourself.

Sam however doesn’t say anything, and apart of you was worried you had gotten a faulty piece. “Samuel?”

“Yes princess?” He chuckle comes through, and you sigh. Pet names? Gone were the days he called you four eyes.

“Asshole, answer me when I talk.” You order, not liking the idea of being left in the dark.

“Demanding, I like it,” He replies, and you’re about to say something when you hear a thump, and Sam grunts. “O-Ow, what was that for?”

Both you and Sully roll your eyes, knowing Nathan must’ve smacked upside the head.

“Thank you Nate.” You reach for another champagne, Sully sticking close to you.

“Again, your words hurt me.” Sam mumbles, and you go to speak again when an unfamiliar woman comes up behind Sully.

“Hands in the air,” You tense as Sully turns around. “Hi Victor.”

“Hello Nadine, pleasure to see you again.” He greets her, and you relax a little realising he knows her.

She says some more, as does he and you step closer to your friend. The woman, Nadine, eyes you warily, and Sully clears his throat.

“Nadine, this is my goddaughter, (Y/N),” He then points back at the woman. “This is an old associate of mine, Nadine.”

“Goddaughter?” She asks, and you nod at her, smiling up at Sully.

“That would be me, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Her accent was thick, and she turns her attention back to the older gentleman, talking more about the event and being dressed up. She offers to buy him a drink and he accepts, and she surprises you as she offers you one, but you politely decline.

She walks off, and Sully immediately warns the boys about her and her organisation ‘Shoreline’. It was an army for hire, but Nadine herself looked like she can handle a fight if need be.

“Come back to us in one piece boys.” You mumble, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Have some faith princess, we’re pros.” Sam answers, and you bite your tongue to refrain from bringing up the whole ‘incarcerated for fifteen years’.

______________________

All within an hour, you and Sully had a run in with a Rafe Adler, and at first he seemed alright until he threw Sully’s drink from his hand. He was a rich little daddies boy who had a hard on for Avery’s treasure, and the idea of competition didn’t excite him.

He even went as far as to try and converse with you, asking why such a pretty thing was hanging around Victor. Rafe didn’t buy the goddaughter story, but he continued talking to you. If it weren’t for Samuel yelling in your ear telling you to walk away, you would’ve stuck your heel in his foot instantly.

Rafe excused himself when the auctioneer announced they were starting, threatening Sully once more before walking off.

“Asshole.” You muttered, sending daggers in his direction.

“You alright (Y/N)?” Sam asks, and you notice his voice sounds a lot clearer.

You look around spotting him in a waiters uniform, you nod at him with a small smile. “I’m okay, nice outfit.”

He rolls his eyes as he lifts a tray in his hand. “Might keep it, you into role-play?”

Sully clears his throat, and you both chuckle at the man.

Some time passed, both Rafe and Sully bidding against each other for the cross. You made your way towards the backdoor, waiting for Nathan to cut the power. As if on cue, the power goes out and you open the door, Sam and Sully behind you in what seemed like seconds.

The lift went smoothly. The power turned back on, and you hear Rafe shouting from the other side. As the three of you begin to walk fast, you take off your heels, holding them in your hand as you follow after the men.

A fight in heels didn’t sound particularly fun, and you stop when you reach a corridor. “Sully,” You nod towards the door. “We’ll get Nathan, think you can get a car ready?”

“I can do that.” You hand him your heels, and he shakes his head at you, taking them carefully. He runs into the direction of the door, and you bend over, ripping the side of your dress so you could run.

“Wow-wow, not that I’m complaining but what’re you doing?” Sam watches as you tear the other side, and you kick your legs out, making sure you have room.

“I get those pants are tight, but you try running around in this thing.”

He thinks over your answer, and you both begin running again.

After some climbing, window breaking and a gunfight, the four of you make your getaway in a limo, cross in hand.

#Samuel Drake x reader #sam drake x reader #sam drake smut #reader insert #uncharted x reader #fookinfandoms

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Text

Pearly White Lincoln

She’s fierce.

Steven Hyde has always known that much about Jackie Burkhart, even before she began dating one of his best friends. Back when she was just a doe eyed, cheerleading, force of nature and glamor. Back when she was the first underclassmen to win the illustrious title of homecoming queen, and would sashay down the halls with an impenetrable air of arrogance mixed with a superiority complex a mile wide. Too pretty for her own good and too smart to give a damn. Acting like for all the world, this dingy ass, rundown town owed her. That if nothing else, Point Place needs to pay it’s dues for holding her back from which ever dream she has for that week, with all it’s trappings of mediocrity.

The worst part of it is that she might not be totally off base.

She’s the only Freshman that any of the senior guys look at with a twinkle in their eyes, the only one with a shrill enough voice to make’m cower in submission. She’s loud, and abrasive, and does this thing where she wrinkles her upturned nose right before ripping to shreds anyone who she deems worthy of her ninety pound, label whoring wrath of fury.

He hates her purely on the principle of the thing.

Teenage dirtbags and prom queens to be don’t mix, that’s just logic. Just like it’s logic that cars aren’t supposed to ride on water, or that anything Mrs. Forman bakes is bound to be fantastic. And it’s only logic that he starts to resent the pint-sized beauty queen for getting her perfectly manicured claws into his oldest friend right around the same time his other best friend is finally trying to make a move on the only girl Hyde has ever loved in any kind of way, and right when Edna makes her monthly topple off the wagon.

It’s only logic that he, Steven Hyde, hates everything Jackie Burkhart has ever had to offer.

Hyde’s defected.

He’s sure of it, there’s something wrong in his DNA or some shit. Something that prevents him from conjuring up the appropriate feelings corresponding towards the right people. That’s why he can’t find it in himself to hate Edna— the only one of his parents who actually bothered enough to stay, even when she’s smacking him upside the head after losing her lot in that night’s poker match, or however many times she loves to remind Hyde that he’s the sole purpose why her all too promising career as a performer at the Barnett Water Show met it’s bitter end. It’s almost like a pastime for her— telling Hyde that he’s a mistake, in every sense of the word. He’s the worst version of a kid that any parent would ever want. It’s why Bud left before Hyde hit puberty. Why she resents him for it. Why she’ll never forgive him for fettering her to the ugly underbelly of a small town existence. Forcing her to be a drunkard, single parent barely holding onto the vestiges of youth she still has left.

On those nights, when Edna would get so plastered that she couldn’t stand straight, that she’d start singing some sappy ballad about time lost and scorning all her ex lovers, were the nights Hyde hated the most. More than the hitting or teasing. It was those nights that solidified the fact in his mind that he’s really not worth a damn, and he should stop pretending as much. He’ll be blessed if he doesn’t end up in prison, or knocking up a chick before he’s graduated high school.

But whatever, Hyde’s a mistake. A dirtbag. An insignificant piece of shit on someone’s shoe. He knows that. He’s over giving a damn about his inevitable fate, he’s excepted as much after living the truth of it for going on seventeen years.

In fact, Hyde doesn’t care about anything.

not a damn thing.

Nothing.

Well excluding the hand full of pot heads he’s somehow grown an unwavering loyalty towards, and attachment with. A cluster of mismatched individuals who’s friendship was manufactured from a shared unconformity, and solidified by a decade of spending every god damn day in each other’s orbits.

Hyde thinks they’re the closest thing he’s ever known to a family, and he hates the idea of altering that dynamic.

So one night, early in their junior year, , when he knows that Forman’s gonna give big red his class ring, he tells Donna he cares for her, that he knows she cares for him too. Because Hyde knows it in his bones that the gang could deal with them being on again, off again. They’re a casual match, he and Donna. More alike than not, with a shared cynicism towards how the establishment’s keeping them down. Nothing particularly remarkable, or amazing in their union. They’d never be the sort to have their names written in the skies, or flourish into some sort of ridiculous caricature of the Little House On The Prairie . But Hyde thinks that they’d be decent to one another. That it’s all kinds of fun when he kisses Donna. He knows that he won’t ever blame her when she eventually move to Madison for college, and then to like Prague or some shit, following her dreams. Hyde and Donna wouldn’t be much of anything after all, so it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But her and Forman?

Eric and Donna are this generations Romeo and Juliette waiting to happen. Both way to lost on each other— trading heart eyes and dopey grins like it’s an olympic sport. THey’d never be able to keep their feelings safely tucked away behind tinted shades, and an aloof exterior. And when they inevitably have their heartbreaking breakup, it’d demolish everything that Hyde has built for himself with this crew of dumbasses. A relationship sealed by brimstone and sheer force of will. The only relationship he’s ever allowed himself to care for with any other person. One that’d probably hurt like hell losing.

So no, he can’t let Forman admit his precious little feelings to the busty, girl next door. And if he has to get in the way, so be it. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like Hyde doesn’t like Donna? That’d be insane! Even if she wasn’t totally smoking.

Hyde likes the way the light catches in her pretty, ginger hair. Likes that she’s not dandy when it comes to her opinion, or playing a round of ball. He likes just about everything that has to do with Donna. And fuck off if he doesn’t get it when Forman talks about feeling queasy in his stomach when around her, like some girlie ass butterflies were swarming down there. Or that his palms don’t get sweaty, like how Kelso’s do whenever he’s with Jackie. They probably only do that because she’s berating him about being an idiot for something or the other, or Kelso’s feeling guilty over something stupid like losing one of her pretty, pink unicorns.

That shit’s unnecessary. At least he likes her as a person, which is way more than any of Edna’s trashy fuck boys could ever say about whatever chick they’re nailing. They’ve told Hyde time and time again that the only important quality in a broad is whether or not she can give’m a stiffy.

Screw that, at least Hyde respects Donna as an actual person.

That respect is why once he finds out later that night that they’re finally together— subsequent to a sobered up Donna and Eric finally growing a pair to ask her to be his girl— Hyde’s happy for them. Even if it’s their own funeral they’re paving the path towards.

He tells Eric as much, with the only caveat that he’s not gonna let them fuck up the group. Warns him that he’s not taking any of their dumbass sides if they break up.

Eric just laughs, cause he’s never known what it’s like to have the ground slipped right from under you. And Hyde just smiles, because he’d never want Forman, his brother in all but blood, to experience that kind of hurt.

Hyde reckons he’s a hypocrite, or maybe just too dumb to heath his own warnings.

But here he is, on the night of prom, renting a suit because he’s begrudgingly agree to escort none other than the epitome of prep herself, Jackie freaking Burkhart, to his junior prom. And all because his dumbass of a best friend cheated on her by pawing at Pam Macy in public, and Jackie sobbed until Hyde lost his resolve.

Fucking hell, he’s going weak.

The doorbell rings, and Hyde ignores the cursed taunting by his ma to answer, swiftly picking up the corsage he’d bought her on his way.

What Hyde doesn’t expect is opening the door and promptly having the breath snatched right from his longs.

“Wow… You look beautiful.”

She beams up at him, light curls framing her pretty face, and sugarplum pink dress making the green in her chestnut eyes flare with an unbridled amount of mirth.

Hyde doesn’t know why his heart thuds at the sight, or why he suddenly has no words for this girl who he’s always figured was the living embodiment of everyone that’s ever told him he’s not worth a damn.

“So do you.”

Hyde barely registers himself handing her the corsage, or leading her away from Edna’s uncharitable ribbing.

Someone like her belongs in-between the leather bindings of a fairytale book, and definitely not somewhere like here, in the dark recesses of society. Not where Hyde has created his own little corner of the galaxy.

It’s no surprise when the pretty cheerleader ends the night in the arms of her moronic ex-boyfriend, and Hyde finishes off in between the legs of the girl who broke them up in the first place.

Nor is it really a surprise when Kelso’s incessant cheating catches up to him, finally blowing up in his face, and making him lose at least one of the girl’s he’s been juggling.

What is a surprise is that he gives up on Jackie so easily, opting to prance around with the she-devil herself. Especially after months of bitching about how much he loves Burkhart.

Another surprise is how much fun it is taking Jackie under his wing, teaching her the art of zen, and even getting to watch a totally sexy cat fight with her and Laurie. Which is never not a good sight— especially considering how Jackie totally beat her ass.

So that’s it. Hyde thinks of Jackie as just another— if not a occasionally vapid— friend. Prom night was just a fluke, and sure she’s hot. But hell, so is Donna, and even Laurie, you know, in her own special, hellish kind of way.

Jackie’s just that. A hot chick who he can chill with. Ya know, when she’s not running her trap.

Everything’s cool. Hyde’s just as aloof and untethered as always.

Jackie thinks she’s in love with him, and Hyde’s convinced she’s finally gone off her rocker.

But to be fair, Hyde reasons that so has he , considering the fact he’s taken her side in every Kelso induced argument, went to jail— leading him to get kicked out of the only home he’s ever felt welcomed in— over her bag of pot, and then punched some idiotic prick for actually calling her a bitch.

No, never mind. Hyde’s sure of it. He’s medically insane, and that’’s why he cuts out of the Forman’’s Veteran’s Day barbecue early, to take Jackie out on a stupid date.

The worst part of the whole ordeal is that it’s not the worst date he’s ever been on— by a long shot. He’d probably deny it till his dying day, but Jackie’s funny in her own quirky way. He likes hearing her talk passionately about crap that really has no importance outside of her shiny, Versace veneered bubble. He likes that she looks at him like he’s not some injured, little fuck up. Like she’s happy to be here, sitting besides him. She’s not slumming it, she genuinely wants to give them, give him, a fair shot. And that’s pretty cool… Really cool if he’s being honest.

By the end of the date, they actually share a smile, something warm, something like nothing’s Hyde’s ever felt with a chick before.

Their eyes are still boring into each other when he ducks down, and she inclines her head forwards.

Hyde kisses the homecoming queen atop her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and it doesn’t feel like the end of the world as he knows it.

She tastes like lilac skies, and the gumdrop cookies Edna use to make while singing Sinatra on her especially good days, and like something quintessentially Jackie. . It’s a kiss just on this edge of amazing, and Hyde hates that he might have to admit that she’s actually been right all along.

But then she pulls away. Tells’m that there’s no spark.

“Nothing?”

She shakes her head no, before he’s forced to agree. Because fuck, what’d he think? That this is some sort of chick-flick. That the pampered, pretty girl would ever really choose the lowly, orphan boy in real life?

What a fucking joke.

He hops off the lid, and opens the door for her.

They grab a couple burgers and fries and talk like his tongue wasn’t down her throat only half an hour prior, and it’s fine. It’s good.

He’s never let his feelings for anyone cloud his judgment before, he won’t start now.

Months later, after she puts the final nail in the ever tumultuous coffin that was her relationship with Michael Kelso, they kind of fall into one another.

They spend the summer leading to his senior year kissing behind every shadowed corner, and tucked away crevasse.

She tells him it means nothing, and Hyde tells her the same. Because it doesn’t. Because whatever he might’ve felt for Jackie was efficiently scuffed away by the heal of her red bottom shoes months prior, and what they’re doing now is just all heat, and lust, and mostly to do with the boredom of the summer getting to them.

That’s what Hyde tells himself at least.

“Oh my God! I win!” Jackie crows, leaping off her seat and shaking around in a risible excuse for dancing.

Hyde loses all interest in the chessboard, nodding approvingly at the way she moves in her tiny shorts and spaghetti top before she smacks him playfully.

“Hey man! I’m just appreciating the consolation prize!”

“Uncouth pig.” She rolls her eyes at him before flopping back in her powder pink duvet, long soft hair fanning around her like a dark halo.

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Hyde thinks she’s trying to ask as casually as possible, but he can see the hope in the quirk of her brow.

“Naw, man Forman had to tell his parents that I wasn’t at breakfast this morning cause I was at the library. I didn’t even know this town had a library!” He kind of feels his heart constrict at her disappointment. “You know Red’d freak if he found out I was spending the nights here, probably assume shit.”

“Yeah, true.” She pouts, averting her gaze. “You better get going then before Red starts to flip.”

“Right… So your ma still isn’t back, huh?”

Hyde would like to pretend that he doesn’t shrink back at the sudden flash of rage in her eyes.

“No Steven! I told you! She’s still working on her tan in Mexico.” Jackie sits up, crossing her arms defensively. “We Burkhart women have a reputation to uphold! If we’re not the epitome of beauty, what’ll people like Donna have to live up to!” Hyde idly wonders how she’s become such a pro of diversion. “It’s really a hard job Steven, we constantly have to be on our A game, or else the whole pyramid of beauty standards crumbles!”

“Ah huh…?”

Her lips pinch, brows scrunched together with no small amount of frustration.

“Look just take your surly attitude and get going, will you? I have a Tiger Beat to read.”

“Jackie I’m not gonna leave you alone here. Now c’mon, tell me what the hell’s actually going on! Your mom’s been working on her tan for the last month!”

“Steven, it’s real hard to get the perfect golden brown—“

“Jackie!”

“What!”

“Is your mom even coming back home?”

The stutter in her answer right then is enough of a tell for Hyde to demand she packs an overnight bag. “You’re staying the night with me at the Forman’s.”

She doesn’t move, stance rigid, and set jaw.

“I don’t need to stay with you Steven. I’m fine. I have my house keeper coming tomorrow morning, I’ll be fine.”

Hyde wants to argue, wants to shout that like fuck he’s gonna leave his chick here in this enormous place all by herself overnight. That she shouldn’t have such a fucking hardhead when it comes to him. That he knows that they started this thing off with steamy makeouts, but she should know it’s moved way passed that. They— their relationship… it means the fucking world to him. This thing they have going for them is probably one of the most important things in his life. Hyde would’ve never risked his friendship with one of his oldest pals if it weren’t.

Honestly, Hyde wants to shout that she should’ve told him when she realized Pam wasn’t coming home. She should’ve trusted him, because yeah Hyde kind of sucks at the whole communicating with words thing. But he still would’ve tried, for her. Hell, he’s pretty terrified because he’s just about sure that there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for Jackie freaking Burkhart.

He does none of that. Partly because he has no idea where to even begin, and partly because he knows that even with all their differences, he and Jackie were cut from the same cloth. Both to stubborn for what’s good for them, and both to independent to admit they’d need anything at all from anyone.

So instead of all that, Hyde just putters up to her, rubs a hand up and down her arm with feeling.

“Look i’m kinda accustomed to having someone plastered all up on me while I sleep, and waking up cold cause she stole the blankets. If you don’t come with me I’ll probably never be comfortable in my cot alone.”

Her glower is securely set on her face, but Hyde feels a thaw in her exterior.

“I don’t steal the blankets, you throw them on me.”

“Whatever you say doll,” he kisses her temple, and when she squeezes him in an embrace, he pretends he doesn’t feel her tears seeping through the material of his t-shirt. Just holds her tighter than ever before.

She’s all bubblegum laughter, and butter scotch kisses. Hyde thinks he loves her, thinks he’s always loved her. Hates that it’s taken him so long to tell her as much.

Hates it even more that the first time he’s ever told her so is when the break between them is too raw— too jagged— to be able to mend with pretty platitudes like I love yous. When the thought of him and some random nurse is still seared in her mind, and tales the end of everything he manages to say to her.

Hyde isn’t surprised when she storms out, when she tells him she doesn’t feel the same way. Not anymore. And why should she?

Hyde hates that he let himself fall in love with her. Let himself feel the butterflies in his gut, and the sweat on his palms. Hates that he still thinks she’s the most beautiful, brilliant girl on the face of the planet. Hates that when Kelso tells him that he’s still going after her, all Hyde could think is that she deserves anyone but him, even a prick like Kelso.

Hyde hates that the only girl he’s ever loved is the only girl he’s ever hurt so irrecoverably.

He realizes that he still has a shot with the one girl that’s ever been worth a damn.

He fights for her. She leaves him for the summer, with the question of who she’ll choose still suspended in his every breath

He kisses three other girls that summer, and none of them make him feel like his insides were bursting with something greater than glee. He concludes that the only person who’ll ever make him feel like that is the one person he can never be with again.

Until she tells him she wants to be with him, and he kisses her like the fate of his world depended on it.

“I missed you puddin pop.”

Hyde smiles against Jackie’s lips, swears he’ll never let go of this feeling again.

“I need to know that there’s a future for us.”

It’s the one thing Jackie’s always wanted, and the one thing Hyde’s never been able to give.

Hyde’s seen what marriages do to people. Seen the utter contempt in Edna’s eyes whenever she even so much as looked at Bud. The absolute shit show circus that was the Pinciotti household. The way Pam left her only daughter so callously after finalizing the divorce from the man she married for his money. Hyde knows that the Forman’s are a one in a million kind of deal, and Hyde’s never been one in a million for anything.

Besides Hyde knows Jackie, knows all the intimate parts that string together her person. Knows that she’s a beautiful whirlwind of jutting cheekbones and cunning smirks. Knows that no matter how hard she’d always dreamed of the debonair lifestyle, that she would’ve never been content with him as a partner. A man child with a family history as complicated as Marx’s manifesto, and who’s never been enough for anyone a day in his life.

She goes to Chicago before hearing his answer, (because of course she does). She gets her own segment on the morning show after three and a half months of working there, (because of course she does.) She’s the perfect amalgam of beauty, and wit, all while keeping a finger on the pulse point of popular culture. The camera loves her, and the audience is completely smitten. (Because of course they are.)

Donna tells him all this, and Hyde can do nothing but nod. She’s only confirming what Hyde’s always known was Jackie’s fate. One that’s always been destined for greatness, and had no room for the dirtbag she kissed on her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln when she was sixteen because she was a dumb, starry eyed homecoming queen who thought that she could ever love someone like him.

It hurts like fucking hell, but Hyde knows she’s better off.

But if he keeps the little velvet box still tucked under his favorite Zeppelin shirt in the drawer she use to keep her spare toiletries and tops in for whenever she spent the night— the one that still has a couple of her things that Hyde’s studiously forgotten to remind her were here— well that’s only for him to know.

The Forman’s hold a huge get together for the turn of the decade, with all their family and friends.

Kelso’s playing an intense round of peekaboo with Betsy, while a endeared looking Brooke smiles at the pair of them. Laurie and Fez are off getting handsy upstairs, and Eric and Donna are practically plastered to one another’s sides after so many months apart. Hell even Red and Mrs. Forman are holding hands and sharing fond gazes.

Hyde knows that somewhere in the crowd there’s a pretty, strawberry blonde that Fez invited from work (“because you also need some lovin after Jackie shattered your heart”). He knows that she’s waiting for him to give her the time of day, but knows just as well that he never will.

Hyde opts to grab a beer from the pile, and get away from the lot of love whipped morons he’s surrounded himself with by getting a breath of fresh air in the driveway.

What he doesn’t expect is after ten minutes of contemplating where he’s exactly found himself at twenty years old, a pearly white Lincoln slides up on the curb.

Stunned and a little petrified, he watches as Jackie— still beautiful after almost six months apart, and still haughty looking as all get out with a Gucci bag slung across her shoulder— steps out.

Her pretty, mismatched eyes widen only a fraction once catching sight of him. But she doesn’t demure, walks up to him like it’s nothing. And he thinks that absolute abandon, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve without caring about the consequences, is what proved how much stronger she was over him. How she’s always been the strongest chick he’s ever known.

“Steven.” She speaks his name like a treasure.

“Jackie,” he says like a prayer.

“Thank you for the flowers— all of them, for every show.”

Hyde mentally staggers back, wondering just how she figured it was him that sent them.

“They were Calla Lilies,” she shrugs, seemingly reading his mind. “I always told you that they’d be the flowers for our wedding.”

Hyde takes off his sunglasses, wants to have an unobstructed view of her after so much time apart. Wants to drink her in for as long as possible for when she eventually leaves him again.

“You deserved them. You were always amazing on screen whenever I got to watch you while visiting WB in Chicago.”

She kinks up a brow in silent question.

“We’re thinking of opening a new headquarters there— he wants me to run it— ya know, cause I’m his son and all.”

“Is that so,” the corner’s of her mouth curve up into a small, enchanted smile. One that Hyde returns in earnest.

“Yeah, well that,” he clasps her mitten clad hand with his bare one. Gingerly, questioningly. .

“And I told him that the only person I want to be around happens to live their, and I’d deal with all of Angie’s craziness if it meant that I could be down there with that one person.”

Her smile stretches into a full blown grin, equal parts beautiful and breathtaking. Making Hyde’s insides feel like he’s just been bathed in sunlight.

He doesn’t feel it when the snow starts to trickle down on them, or hear the bell of the new year ring true. All Hyde can focus on is the way Jackie presses up on the tips of her toes, and how her lips still fit so perfectly against his own. How it still feels like his stomach is doing gymnastic routines.

All Hyde could think is that he’s kissing the girl of his dreams in front of her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and how it feels like the start of his world as he knows it.

They part only to catch their breath, pressing foreheads against one another, as if terrified to stay apart for long, less the other person will dissipate right before their eyes.

“Hey Jackie.”

“Hmm?”

“That person I was telling WB about… That was you, believe or not.”

“Shut up you pig,” she punches him in the arm and all he could do is smile, feeling something wonderful bloom somewhere deep in his chest.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yeah, well you love me back!”

“Yeah… Yeah I do.”

#Zenmasters #Jackie Burkhart #STEVEN HYDE #JACKIE AND HYDE #Spilled Ink #That 70s Show #SPILT INK

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secretshinigami · 4 years

Text

Masterlist of Spring Roulette 2020

Thank you everyone for giving this a go. It was a fun round and all gifts are now posted. We will return to our regular method of matching in our next exchange and we look forward to your participation.

Here is a compiled list of everyone’s prompts from this round – thank you for letting us post them, and we hope you guys enjoy them! If you use a prompt, please let us know and we’ll reblog your piece!

Prompts are organized by their submitter, so feel free to ctrl+f to find character-specific prompts.

theallknowingowlagain

Girls’ night with Sachiko and Sayu

Five times Beyond Birthday lost to A, and one time he came out on top

Office AU

A date with Naomi and Raye

What L sees in the dark

L as an actual frog, Light as whatever animal you prefer

hazblogs

Naomi Misora and BB have a fun time looking for clues for the LABB murders, with cheeky banter and Naomi getting a little attached to Beyond

L wins AU, where Light never recovers his memories, but Misa did (following canon). explore how L, knowing that Light is Kira but being unable to either prove it without making Light a criminal, deals with the whole "Light is Kira but he doesn't remember it" situation

Mello is a witch and Near is a vampire he's been hunting for a long time - maybe to discover that he was chasing the wrong target all along

Mello and Near hugging, if possible in casual clothes

Light's mind-shelter, the place in his head he retreats to when the pressure of being Kira becomes too much and he starts to doubt (extremely early in the manga or post L's death)

Naomi Misora and L wearing traditional japanese yukatas at a summer festival

missmomentss

Beyond Birthday going a blind date with A

L meeting Beyond Birthday for the first time

Misa and L have a sleepover party

A switched roles with Beyond Birthday

Sayu is Kira

Mello meeting Beyond Birthday in prison

almostsane-things

DN cast goes to college together, has some unfortunate roommate matches, hijinx ensue

The Kira case from Sayu or Sachiko's POV

AU where Soichiro actually dies from the heart attack he had in the first arc and Light is accused of murdering his dad.

Lowlightprimed AU: The fight between B and L at Wammy's house at the end of the first arc (BBAL)

Lidner and Misora go on an undercover mission on Halloween

Near in harajuku fashion(s), creatively dyed hair is a plus

Beyond Birthday dressed as Winnie the Pooh and eating jam out of a honey-pot.

Mourning the death of various DN characters (Who gets large crowds? Who gets one or two heartfelt mourners? Who gets mourned by no one at all?)

Fake dating sim screenshot featuring character of your choice

beyondplusultra

Wammy House-era Near, Mello, and Matt trying to give L something for Valentine's Day.

The origin of the "Dear Mello" photograph.

Mikami being catfished by Beyond Birthday.

Anything involving Mello, Matt, and Near hanging out (as friends, romantically, or with one of them third-wheeling is fine).

Sayu giving Light his obligatory Valentine's chocolate at his grave.

Light surrounded by chibi versions of the other Kiras, who are clambering over one another to try and be the first to give him their chocolate.

jeepersjeevas

(Anyone!) Person A comes home during a blizzard covered in snow and all grumpy. Person B warms them up with their pj’s and cuddles

Matt/Mello: They get into a heated argument over something trivial in canon. They say some pretty harsh stuff to each other, but make up later

Wammy’s Kids: In which they all sneak out one night to go to the drug store. Upon discovering they’ve forgotten their money they decide to shoplift, using B as their distraction.

B and Matt as best friends post-timeskip

L hardcore crushing on Misa, and she lowkey liking him back (canon)

Makeshift boyband in someone’s garage. Löded Diper vibes. B’s lead singer

jeevas-exe

mello & matt but they have magical powers au

fem!light and takada but one of them borrows a book and doesn't return it so they have to find each other au

canon-compliant character study on sayu, post-canon (when Light dies); pre-canon L first getting into the kira case

au where Light and L become accidental roommates because SOMEONE forgot to pay rent

canon-compliant Mello and Matt find each other between the explosion and the ending

Light and L in some ugly fashion, like dads-on-vacation-in-Florida fashion

Naomi Misora with lots of tattoos!

Rem and Ryuk in human form, with some punk fashion

complicatedmerary

Light and Sayu bake a cake for a birthday surprise party for either parent (Soichiro or Sachiko) of your choice. A lot of family silliness and sibling bickering.

Light and Misa's first official romantic date was a disaster. While it does not shake Misa's devotion, her feelings are hurt.

Death Note is a reality TV show. Yes, there's still a Kira to be caught, but cameras are now involved! The more dramatic, the better!

Mikami and Takada walking side by side out in the winter.

L meeting Wedy and Aiber for the first time.

Demegawa being pampered like the king he believes he is.

babelfell

Reverse!Noel AU (Noel by TzviaAriella): Light won, and threw Near in the cage meant for himself. It's been three years since his victory, and he's starting to get lonely; he goes down to taunt Near. (NOT SHIPPY. Disgusting rivals only, thank u).

Terrace House AU (or 'we all are strangers and have to live together' reality show AU) with the Death Note cast.

Pirate!AU. L is the captain of the ship, and Light is his first mate and plotting a mutiny with his most 'trusted' crew: Takada and Mikami. It's all going well until Misa hears about the plot and wants in...

Light/Near dating sim CG.

Beach Episode feat. Light and Mikami getting iced drinks under an umbrella.

Kiyomi Takada and/or Teru Mikami in a kimono, having tea alone or with one another.

Anonymous

A holiday at Wammy's House (could be Christmas, Halloween, Valentine's day, etc)

Raye and Naomi's first date

LABB beach episode

Older Light braiding Near's very long hair

Naomi and cats

Spider-Man meme but it's L (from the anime/manga) and L (from the 2015 tv drama)

In a no!kira world, both fem!L and fem!light have a crush on misa. how do they try to impress her?

Beyond Birthday “accidentally” (its totally on purpose, he just doesn’t want to admit it) gets involved with the Kira case, and he and Misa become friends while they both annoy light.

Light Yagami wakes up in his teenage bedroom after he died at the Yellow Box warehouse. He still has all his memories, and it’s exactly one day before he originally found the death note.

The Kira case ended years ago, the Wammy’s House is shut down. Only very few of the original Wammy’s kids are still in touch with each other. Linda hasn’t talked to anyone from Wammy’s in years. One day, Near knocks on the front door of her atelier in LA.

Light Yagami is for whatever reason a Wammy’s kid. (Pre-canon, so not even LABB has happened yet, and we’re ignoring the timeline, so L, Light, Beyond, and the other Wammy’s kids (Near, mello, matt, linda) are all the same age.) Chaos ensues.

Fantasy!AU. The noble knight Light Yagami was tasked with slaying the “evil” monster Ryuk. On his journey through a fantasy land while trying to find and defeat the beast he meets many people, like the cutesy goth witch Misa Amane, the baker’s son L Lawliet (Watari’s the baker) and his twin Beyond Birthday, or the group of 4 students from a wealthy orphanage (Wammy’s House is the orphanage, Linda, Matt, Mello, and Near are the students).

Misa posing, while Linda is painting her.

Misa, L, and Light in modern fashion (Misa as an egirl, what fashion L & light wear is ur choice!!)

Misa’s reaction after she used the death note for the first time, viewed through the shinigami eyes. (Maybe she’d also have some blood on her clothes)

An interaction of Mello and Near pre-canon when they were still in Wammy’s House.

A drawing of the characters mentioned the fantasy!au fanfic prompt, goofing off. (doesn’t have to be all characters, just choose the ones you wanna draw!!)

Misa Amane sitting in a Wammy’s House foyer with the Wammy’s kids (Near, Mello, Matt, Linda). They’re all the same age, Misa’s also a Wammy’s kid.

Several years post-canon, Near decides to (or has to because circumstances) tell Sachiko and Sayu the truth about Light.

Pre-canon Light and Yamamoto hanging out at an arcade, being early 2000s teens in peace.

Actor AU. Light is a young Japanese actor getting his first Hollywood role under L, a notoriously difficult director who never shows his face. (Not Lawlight, other ships welcome.)

Near and Light playing a piano duet.

Naomi kicking ass in her wedding dress in a Kill Bill-esque fashion.

Ryuk trying to play Switch and struggling to use the Joycons with his huge hands, to Light's amusement.

#death note #prompt list #Spring Roulette 2020

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years

Text

Decryption_Error: “Undecided”

Summary: Now that the incident in the server room is becoming a distant memory for everyone at CIStech, indecision plagues Y/N as she tries to figure out just what she wants from Elliot. The real question, of course, is what does Elliot want?

Story Summary, “The Server Room, Part I”, “The Server Room, Part II” “The Long Weekend, Part I”, “The Long Weekend, Part II”, “The Aftermath”

Word Count: 5000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @hopplessdreamer @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @alottanothing @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley

If you want added, let me know.

Warning: Tiny mention of something R-rated toward the end

By Thursday, the office felt normal, and I was once again left to marvel at how quickly things could snap back into place. People just . . . moved on. They continued to run their daily programs and despite a hiccup in the system, they hit reboot and it was back to normal runtime.

I was no different.

Yesterday was spent looking through the applicant pool, and I had found a few good candidates. I wanted to compile a final list by the end of the day and set interviews for next week. In another two or three weeks, it would be like Julia, Aaron, and Maurice had never even existed in the world of CIStech.

DELETE 10211291.11181514.1312118935.DSET1 PURGE

<Execution_Complete>

Elliot was just as intrigued by people’s willingness to forget a traumatic event. While Tuesday night’s text conversation lasted a long time, the subject matter stayed pretty light. But on Wednesday, we ended up texting a lot about people’s reactions to what went down.

I hadn’t been sure if Tuesday night’s texts were an anomaly until my phone buzzed at exactly 7:00 pm, the same time I had texted Elliot the night before. I actually laughed out loud a little, figuring Elliot was playing it safe by repeating a previously rewarding behavior pattern.

On Wednesday, I had again left work much earlier than usual so I could head uptown to meet my father. He had asked me weeks ago to attend a benefit with him, and I had almost forgotten about it until he called to remind me in the morning. I used my lunch hour to run home and grab a dress and a pair of shoes. I was really looking forward to seeing Dad because I wanted to decompress—if there was anyone in the world I could vent my feelings to, it was him.

When he caught me smiling at my phone and trying to sneak a text without appearing rude, he told me to have Edwin, his driver, take me home and come back for him later.

“I love you, Dad,” I said as he hugged me tight.

“I want to meet the young man who makes you smile like that, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled at my dad’s good intention.

“If only it were that simple,” I said as the elevator doors opened.

He put his hands in his pockets and gave me a long look as the doors closed. I knew he worried I worked too much and abandoning my entire family over Memorial Day weekend did not alleviate his concern one bit. Nor did it help when I finally explained the work emergency that pulled me away.

But for the second night in a row, I found myself texting until my eyes blurred. When Elliot and I said good night, I set my alarm and immediately fell asleep, something that rarely ever happened. I felt like I could breathe freely again. Elliot didn’t seem to be harboring any ill feelings about being reprimanded, so when he and I ended up running into each other in the lobby on Thursday morning, I smiled brightly when I saw him.

We said our bland good mornings as we got on the elevator, then I asked if he had any plans for after work. When he said no, I pulled out my phone and texted him to ask if he wanted to come over.

He glanced at the other people in the elevator who were staring sleepily at the buttons of the passing floors and gave me a tiny smile before nodding yes.

I smiled back and as the elevator doors opened on our floor, he stood back to let me exit before he hurried out and grabbed the door to the office. I thanked him and we went our separate ways for the workday.

Around quitting time, there was a light tap on my door frame, and I looked up to see Elliot, his eyes alert, scanning over the room and not quite willing to focus on me yet.

“Hey—come in,” I said, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face at the sight of him.

He shuffled in, his hands thrust in his pockets.

“I need to run an errand. Will you be here . . . or should I . . .” Elliot trailed off as his eyes desperately searched mine, his own mind clearly wondering if he had imagined our conversation in the elevator.

“I’m planning on working until around 7. Do you just want to meet at that deli on Platt around 7:15? We can get a bite to eat there, then head back to my place?”

“Sure,” Elliot said in his trademark monotone, immediately turning on his heel and exiting my office.

I just shook my head and chuckled, thinking, Sure, Dad. Meet my painfully awkward boyfriend, Elliot.

Boyfriend.

My mouth went dry as indecision began to beat its ugly staccato within my mind.

What did I really want?

Even more difficult to answer, what did Elliot really want?

A kiss in a heated moment was a lot less demanding of someone than asking them to be with you. And it was Elliot—did he even date? Despite all of our after-work conversations, we never really talked about romantic interests. It just wasn’t something that came up.

I continued to plug away at my analytics, hoping to drown out my thoughts about Elliot. I was about to see him outside of work again, and I would just have to test the waters, which was a scary prospect. If I pushed and Elliot wasn’t ready, I could knock over the foundation we had been so carefully building.

* * * * *

Elliot was waiting for me at the deli, so we grabbed a quiet, quick bite. By the time we reached my apartment and Elliot was standing in my entryway, shucking off his backpack, it was about 8:15 pm.

After he slid off his backpack, he bent to rummage around, and he pulled out my Columbia t-shirt.

I shook my head no.

“Keep it. I like knowing you have something of mine and that maybe, just maybe, you’re wearing it,” I said with a flirty grin.

“Okay,” Elliot said with a shrug as he stuffed the shirt back into his bag.

“Besides. You look good in white,” I said, knowing I couldn’t be deterred by one ignored comment. Elliot was wicked smart and could read people, but that ability seemed to diminish as he got closer to someone. I wondered if maybe that was why he kept his distance from most people—it made him feel too vulnerable.

Elliot looked at me, clearly determining whether or not I was joking.

“And you say I can’t take a compliment,” I huffed.

“You can’t,” Elliot said, seizing the shift in the conversation that would allow him to have the upper hand. “Your legs look good in that skirt,” he said as his eyes looked at me from top to bottom.

I narrowed my own eyes and replied, “Now see. I don’t know if you mean that or if you said it just to get me to say I don’t think it’s genuine, thus proving your point.”

Elliot chuckled. “Point proven. You can’t take a compliment.”

“Such an ass,” I said, smiling. “I should take back my meticulously planned evening.”

“Planned? So, this wasn’t just a random invitation?”

“God no. I have to mentally prepare for all my interactions with you,” I blurted out before realizing how terrible that sounded.

Sometimes it really was a blessing Elliot thought so much before he spoke so I could retract my foot-in-mouth statement, but unfortunately, his face was an open book. I could see the beginnings of hurt twist his features, so I rushed an explanation.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. Just in an ‘I think about you a lot’ way. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and have you look at me kinda like you’re looking at me now. Okay?”

Elliot’s brows contracted before he visibly turned his face back into an unreadable mask. It was remarkable to watch—like he just flipped a switch and turned off his emotion.

He nodded, but I could tell he already assigned a negative meaning to my words. I hadn’t meant it that way, but it was exhausting interacting with him at times. I still felt like I was taking one step forward, creeping along nicely, and then boom. I scared him and he bolted and we were ten steps behind where we started.

At least my indecision about pursuing a relationship with him was pretty damn warranted.

“I’m going to change,” I said. “It’s hot as fuck outside, so you may want to put on my t-shirt if you’re not wearing one under your dress shirt.”

“We’re going outside?”

“Yup!” I said, shooting him a grin.

Elliot looked at me with suspicion, but I shook my head and took off down the hall toward my bedroom. I dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and I slid into some flip-flops. I pulled my hair up, knowing it wouldn’t survive any more time than it already had outdoors.

I walked back out to the living room, but Elliot was nowhere to be seen. I had just enough time to wonder if I really had scared him off before he emerged from the bathroom wearing tight black jeans and my white Columbia t-shirt.

“After last Friday, I decided to keep a change of clothes in my backpack.”

“Smart,” I said, eyeing the way his jeans clung to his thighs before sliding my eyes up to his face to appreciate how the tan tone of his skin was emphasized next to the white cotton of my t-shirt.

“Can I have another clue? I don’t really like surprises.”

“Mmmmm, no,” I said, enjoying my facetiousness. “Although, I did give you a clue earlier this week.”

Elliot’s eyes moved around my apartment as he thought back, and then, his face lit up.

“S’mores,” he said with a tiny timbre of excitement in his tone as his eyes connected with mine.

“Clever kitten,” I said as I started pulling out the supplies we had bought over the weekend.

“They won’t be as good as they’d be over a real bonfire, but a charcoal grill will serve the purpose.”

We headed up to the rooftop, which was delightfully empty given there was no special occasion and the work week was still droning on. I used my key to get out the charcoal grill’s supplies from the storage on the roof.

Despite telling Elliot to sit on the couch and relax, he hovered, watching everything I did.

“And now we wait,” I said as I prodded the coals with my tongs, encouraging them to catch. “The more they burn down, the better the taste.”

I plopped on the white couch and looked toward the setting sun. Elliot joined me and we slowly built up to a steady conversation. Away from people and when he was comfortable, Elliot talked a lot. It was almost comical to think of the juxtaposition housed within his lithe little body—it was like two people lived inside of him, one of them plagued by insecurities, and the other, just a normal guy, or rather, a guy who could just about pass for normal if it weren’t for his intellect.

Elliot wasn’t just knowledgeable about computers. He kept up with the news. He had keen insights about society. And he even liked to read the classics, or really just about any book he got his hands on.

But work was the easiest and safest topic for both of us since that was the baseline for our friendship. I finally asked Elliot how he was doing as the dust began to settle, eager to hear his thoughts in person instead of from behind the safety of a screen.

“It’s weird,” Elliot began before he broke eye contact to gather his thoughts. “People are nicer to me, or at least they seem to be going out of their way to talk to me.”

“Colin is treating you alright?” I asked, curious if he was going to be an asshole about the whole thing.

“It was him, wasn’t it? He insisted on the letter,” Elliot finished with a statement, not a question.

I was quiet for a moment, warring with myself about whether I should say anything or not. It was an HR issue, and those could be tricky, but who would Elliot tell? What damage could come from talking to the one guy who was never going to tell anyone anything?

“I know you would never say anything, but I have to say this to make myself feel better—you can’t repeat anything I say about the . . . incident.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows at me and nodded.

“Yes, it was Colin. He’s kind of a “bro,” I explained, my hands rising to make quote marks in the air. “And since you’re totally not that kind of guy, he has no even ground with you—you’re smarter than him and he can’t deal with that.”

“What makes you describe him as a “bro?” Elliot said, imitating my earlier air-quotes.

“Mmm . . . he loves every sport, plays basketball with some of the guys in the company on Saturdays. He has that arrogance about him, that unwarranted arrogance that a guy who enjoys showing off just how much of a guy he is has. He used to run every day before work and he’d come upstairs all sweaty—and I mean sweaty as in looking like he’d just gone swimming sweaty—and he’d just go “freshen up” in his office. It grossed me out so much I flat-out offered to comp him if he took time to shower at the gym and was late for work. After that, he didn’t come to work sweaty anymore. Don’t get me wrong—woo! Fitness! But gross,” I said, wrinkling my nose just remembering what he looked like and smelled like.

“Every sport?”

“As far as I know—I do think he has season tickets to the Knicks, though. When he first started working for us, he asked me to a game,” I said, volunteering the information to see what Elliot would do with it.

Nothing, of course.

“I did notice he has a Mets pennant in his office,” Elliot said, more to himself than to me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Like I said, he’s a dude. Or he at least wants everyone to know he’s a dude.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No. And I think that’s why he’s been extra Colin-y lately. He has a son with his ex.”

“What’s his name?” Elliot asked, quickly.

“You’re asking a lot from me because I don’t typically store information that has no relevance to myself. It’s something like Chris or Chuck or Chad?”

Elliot nodded.

“Would you want him to go—I mean, if you had a choice? Would you want Colin to leave CIStech?”

I chewed at my bottom lip a little, really considering Elliot’s question.

“I don’t know. That’s a hard question to answer. What I can tell you is that I wish I could clone JaLeah. She’s just a superfreak of an awesome person. I’ve never really met anyone as smart and dynamic as she is—she just makes everyone feel so welcome.”

“I think she’s funny,” Elliot said.

“Really?” I said smiling and arching my brow. “That’s interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“I just wouldn’t have thought you would think about something like that.”

“That’s kind of insulting,” Elliot said, his voice flat and unreadable. “I do enjoy humor now and then.”

I shook my head and chuckled.

“See? I keep learning new things about you?”

“You told me I intrigued you, and that you have to figure out people who intrigue you.”

I reached out and poked at Elliot’s thigh, gently prodding.

“Is there a recording device you’re using to play back every conversation we’ve ever had?”

“I listen,” Elliot said, smiling. “Especially when people intrigue me.”

I looked at Elliot and there was a smile in his eyes even though there wasn’t one on his lips. I felt like I could drown in his grey, stormy eyes when they sparkled, housing the mischief he never really let anyone see.

Our eyes locked, intensely focused on one another for a long enough time that it made me look away, almost embarrassed. I felt sure he could see my interest, naked and wanting before him, but he just didn’t make a move—either to look away or to move closer. Just . . . nothing.

“Alright—let’s get our smores prepped,” I said, getting up to reach for the bag of groceries on the table.

As the sun set and the lights on the rooftop flickered on, Elliot and I made our smores. We laughed, well I laughed, especially when he caught his marshmallow on fire and waved the toaster fork causing the marshmallow to propel into one of the rooftop trees. He looked like a dark-haired version of Denis the Menace, and I had tears in my eyes at the expression of horror on Elliot’s face as his marshmallow went sailing.

I positioned his fork over the coals for the next round and he attentively turned the marshmallow, refusing to even take his eyes off of it until it was perfectly browned on all sides.

“Your hands are healing quickly,” I commented.

“Thanks to you,” Elliot said sheepishly, shooting me a quick smile before returning his gaze to his marshmallow.

After we ate our fill of s’mores, we got comfy on the couch as we waited for the charcoal to burn down until it was safe to leave for the night.

We didn’t talk as much, but relaxed, enjoying each other’s presence, and I sat in the middle instead of on the end so I could test the waters, occasionally brushing a light touch to Elliot’s jeans or his bare arm, and he even reciprocated some of those furtive touches as he poked fun at me, teasing me for my inability to keep the plots of all three of the Back to the Future movies straight.

Eventually I sighed, knowing it was getting late and I didn’t want Elliot getting back to his neighborhood too late. We gathered up the left-over groceries and I shouldered my tote bag.

We said goodbye in my doorway, and Elliot moved in to hug me tight. We lingered for a moment, but he moved away and quickly pressed the elevator button. I watched him get on and we waved goodnight, a small smile ghosting across his lips as the doors closed.

I shut the door to my apartment and leaned back, thunking my head against it.

Purgatory. I was stuck in indecision-purgatory. Elliot was never, ever going to make the first move. If I wanted our relationship to shift, I’d have to do it, but it felt wrong. I was the one in the position of power. It would make more sense if Elliot made the first move so I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage of him.

Why did this have to be so fucking complicated?

* * * * *

The next two weeks proceeded much in the same fashion. Elliot and I texted nightly, and once or twice a week, I’d invite him over. We’d come dangerously close to kissing, but then he’d just leave.

I dropped as many hints as I could, especially about workplace romances. I talked about how Miles (my boss) and Jayne (my secretary) had gotten together, hoping Elliot would pick up on the comparison.

If he did, he never said a word.

So, my fear of losing him as a friend left me to continue writhing in indecision. I loved how close Elliot and I were getting, and if I scared him by moving too quickly, I’d lose the first good friend I’d made in a long time.

And what was really funny was that I was certain if I talked to Elliot about this, he’d get it. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Little did I know, fate was about to lend a hand; it was just too bad that fate was such a fucking bitch.

* * * * *

“You can’t be serious!” I laughed, finishing the last of my drink.

JaLeah nodded with emphasis, and we all burst into a fresh round of laughter.

Friday happy hours were always a fun way to wind down from the work week. We had a nice mix of people who went regularly and it was well known I always bought the first two rounds. People like Miles, singularly focused climbers, always underestimated the power of building relationships. That was one of the reasons why what happened with Elliot had stuck with me—I thought I had a better team than that.

People did seem to be closer now, more inclusive. There were several new faces at tonight’s gathering, and as I listened to the chatter around me, my thoughts drifted to one particularly attractive face that was not here. People’s voices became background noise as I thought about Elliot and I felt myself wishing he were here. I knew he’d hate every second of it, but he really was, albeit inadvertently, the reason for tonight’s greater sense of comradery.

Sometimes, I truly did believe the universe revolved around me, but only so it could fuck me over for one hell of a laugh. Just as I was a million thoughts deep into Elliot, he walked in through the door, close on the heels of Sarah, his hands shoved in his pockets. When he got inside, his big eyes found mine almost immediately and as I coughed, choking a little on my drink, JaLeah looked to see what distracted me.

Her grin was wolfish.

“Don’t say it,” I warned, my voice low so as not to draw the attention of the others at our high-top table.

“I cannot believe he came,” JaLeah said, drawing attention because even when she believed she was whispering, she never was.

“Holy shit—Elliot’s here,” someone said from a few seats down.

“Don’t make a big deal,” I said in their direction as I watched Sarah and Elliot make their way across the bar to our tables.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair as his eyes glanced around as if he were checking for exits. More than a few eyes gave him a once over as he approached and I felt a pull of jealousy. Logically, I knew people were looking at him more out of curiosity than anything else, but logic wasn’t my forte when it came to Elliot Alderson.

“Hey, everyone!” Sarah said, her smile bright and a bit nervous. “Look who I dragged out.”

Elliot gave the table a small smile as people said hello and a few who were a few drinks in gave a little whoop, which seemed to startle the small smile off of Elliot’s face.

JaLeah almost knocked me off my stool as she pushed me to stand.

“Elliot’s new, so he doesn’t know to cash in on Y/N’s generosity yet. Sarah—you can take my seat. What are you drinking?

“Gin and tonic, please!”

“You got it,” JaLeah said as she pushed Elliot and I toward the bar.

“Hey,” I said, once we were standing at the bar, our bodies pressed together thanks to the crowd.

“Hey,” Elliot said, his voice barely audible as he rested his hands on the edge of the bar, his fingers pressing into the hard surface.

“What can I get you to drink? I always buy the first two rounds for anyone at CIStech who shows up.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Vodka, cran. You want that?”

“Sure,” Elliot said, his eyes still refusing to settle on any one thing.

I reached over and rested my hand on his forearm.

“Are you sure you’re okay with being here?”

“Guess you can’t hold my hand all night this time,” Elliot said as his eyes flicked to mine.

I laughed.

“No, I suppose not. But, if you sit next to me, I’ll see what I can do,” I said as I winked at him.

Elliot smiled softly.

I put our drinks on my tab, along with Sarah’s. JaLeah had already dropped off Sarah’s drink and came back to say she was pirating the corner booth because our table was full and a few more people just showed up.

We followed JaLeah and I let Elliot scoot in before me. We crammed in and I shot Elliot a smirk as our bodies were forced to press nearer to each other. Elliot’s hand was fiddling with his drink until I reached down to pinch lightly at his outer thigh. His hand shot under the table and I gave it a squeeze before shooting him another look. He genuinely smiled as he realized we could hold hands without alerting anyone to our activities, except maybe JaLeah, but I wasn’t worried about her since she knew how I felt about Elliot without me ever having said a word.

As it turned out, the folks who joined us in our booth were good company. JaLeah kept the conversation light and fun, like always, and I could even feel the vibrations of Elliot’s chuckles on occasion.

“You know, JaLeah,” I began. “Elliot thinks you’re quite funny.”

JaLeah raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s about time people truly appreciated my wit, so thank you, baby.”

Elliot grinned at her, either because he’d had a few drinks or because he genuinely liked JaLeah, and said, “You could be a character in an Oscar Wilde play.”

The table laughed and one of the tech’s jumped on the reference to talk about the new play based on Wilde’s life that had just opened.

I leaned over, my lips dangerously close to Elliot’s ear, and said, “See? This isn’t so bad.”

Elliot’s pinky wrapped around my own and squeezed, and I gave him a sweet smile before turning back to the others.

It was one of those nights when people just seemed to be having a great time. We ordered appetizers. The waitress kept our drinks filled. The conversation never lulled, and bursts of laughter kept peppering the air. Before any of us knew it, it was 9:00 and a few people at our table started checking their phones with more frequency.

“Shit—I forgot my wife’s parents were in town. She’s gonna kill me,” Travis, one of JaLeah’s techs said.

“I told my boyfriend I’d be home an hour ago,” another tech said, giggling.

“It’s been a minute since we’ve had such a good night out,” JaLeah said. “See, Elliot? You should come more often.”

“It was cool to hang out,” Travis said. “You’re usually so intense at work—kinda like the big boss,” Travis finished with a chuckle.

I could feel Elliot’s fingers brush against mine. We had been playing this touching, not really, sometimes definitely, game all night and I was wet. I was appalled at myself for being so turned on just by proximity, but I couldn’t stop thinking what if this were normal? What if Elliot were mine? What if we went home together at the end of the night?

“There’s nothing wrong with taking work seriously,” I said, smiling. “That’s why I am the big boss.”

Travis and the others laughed.

We settled our bills and said our goodnights, but I noticed Sarah lingering at the door, clearly waiting for Elliot.

“I think we take the same line home,” she said smiling up at him as we reached her.

Elliot’s hands found their way into his pockets, the material of his dress shirt bunching a bit as he shoved them in.

“I take the 6,” Elliot stated, tension creeping into his voice.

JaLeah was giving out hugs like candy on Halloween, and I laughed to myself. She was such an extrovert, and I appreciated her energy on nights like this. The others slowly went in their separate directions as Elliot stayed close by, Sarah still talking.

“Great! We can ride together. It’s nice to have someone to talk to on the train at night. I forgot my earbuds this morning,” she said, chattering happily.

“Actually, Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to, uh, come back to my place...” Elliot said, his eyes focused intensely on mine.

I could feel JaLeah and Sarah, damn near open-mouthed and watching this exchange. I felt like I might throw up on my shoes for a minute and I was thankful the street was dark because I knew there was a blush coloring my cheeks. I thought quickly, and shook my head, my words tumbling out of my mouth.

“Oh! That bug—that bug you told me about. You wanted me to run the analytics on it. I’ll send you the pin for Team Viewer and we can do it this weekend—I gotta get home. Taking care of my neighbor’s cat. Probably out of food. Have a good night!” I said, grinning like a madwoman and telling myself that Elliot did not look like I just kicked him in the face.

I waved to the three of them and took off for my train, thankful it was in the opposite direction. I turned around to see Elliot and Sarah headed in the same direction. I almost tripped over my own foot as JaLeah jumped up and down and mouthed “What the fuck, Y/N?! What the fuck?!”

I shook my head, turned around, and doubled my steps. I felt sick to my stomach. Fate had just laid an opportunity bare, spread eagle on the floor, and I walked away.

By the time I jumped onto my train and collapsed into a seat, I was fighting back tears. The look on Elliot’s face haunted me. I really, really hurt him—and I wasn’t sure I could fix it this time.

#elliot x reader #female reader #Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson fanfic #elliot alderson x reader #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction #rami malek #rami malek character #elliot

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holdoncallfailed · 5 years

Note

PLEASE go into more detail abt the prom being disappointing

omg i can't tell if this is sincere or sarcastic but i love to complain so ill just answer it as if it were sincere. also spoilers for the prom i guess

right off the bat maybe i should say that i'm mean and i hate fun and i am in general extremely irked by this weird genre of contemporary high school comedy musical that has cropped up on broadway recently (see also: heathers, mean girls, be more chill, dear evan hansen) so i wasn't really expecting much.

but anyway the musical seems incredibly confused as to who the intended audience is. it's a show about high schoolers ostensibly geared towards young people but the story is told mostly from the POV of the main adult characters who are basically caricatures of broadway stereotypes aka an old queen, a kooky liza minnelli/patti lupone mashup, a washed up tv actor from the 90s obsessed w/ the fact that he went to juilliard, and an aging leggy dancer whose dream it is to play roxy hart. there were a lot of inside jokes about the history of broadway/the theatre world that No One under the age of 55 would get if they weren't totally ingratiated in that universe from like birth i guess. then there was the fortnite dance choreography, a major plot point based on a youtube video, characters constantly taking selfies and making references to current pop culture, and the fact the whole musical is litcherally about a high school prom....so who is this thing for????

moving on to the Problematic(tm) parts i guess: the lesbian character is basically introduced by way of a homophobic attack (someone writes lezbo on her locker door and there's a pink teddy bear hanging from a noose inside) which i found incredibly jarring. the word 'lesbian' alone was almost always delivered in a way that got laughs from the audience. during the pre-prom makeover scene the old queen refers to the main lesbian character as 'butchy' as if it were negative which like. okay.

a huge part of act one is the broadway people being shocked at the backwardness of indiana...there's no saks! the liza lupone character doesn't know what an applebee's is! aren't these hicks just so silly in their ignorance?! it was pretty ugly that the whole audience was busting their ass laughing at these jokes clearly meant to further some coastal elite narrative when tickets weren't that cheap. in act two one of the broadway people convinces all the local teens that they shouldn't dislike gay people because you can't cherry pick what bible verses you do and don't follow. this changes everyone's minds instantly and they all end up supporting the lesbian and her gf at prom. also liza lupone ends up falling in love with the high school principal at some point.

the whole moral of the show is basically that We're All Human Beings :) which is a nice message i guess but it just felt so clearly marketed towards rich old theatre people who want to pat themselves on the back for supporting both the gays and the youth and for high school GSA members desperate for validation.

BESIDES ALL OF THAT, the music/book just wasn't good — it's written by the same people who did the wedding singer musical and it uhhh definitely shows. the choreography was ugly, the costumes were boring, and literally no one's wig fit their head to such an extent that i almost thought it was purposeful. also the main character had a riverdale poster in her room. also there were teenagers in the audience actually wearing prom dresses so i guess there are some big fans out there. anyway wow this was way too long but here you go anon i hope you liked this #official #theatrical #review

#this is so long jesus christ #text #theatre

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themarchblessing · 6 years

Text

HELLO VIKING

SABRINA

Zipping myself into my heels I stood up straight, walking over to my full length mirror. I checked myself out head to toe looking for anything that needs to be fixed. Today is my birthday and my mejor amiga threw me a party and I’m very anxious to see what the hell she planned for me. She told to me to show up at ten o’clock exactly because she had some last minute touches to put on the party. I didn’t even understand why she said that but I just agreed to arriving at the specified time.

I’m on a new quest to have my first child. I’ve been in and out of relationships since my college days but I’m ready for a change. Finding a guy that is ideal for myself is not easy whatsoever. But recently I’ve gotten to know somebody who seems very promising to be my donor recipient. Since we’ve been getting along so well I invited him to the party tonight as my date. We’ve been hanging out over the past couple of months to really get to know one another. Corey, my dear friend, is supposed to be in attendance at my party tonight being that I asked him if he would meet Julian. Corey was against it at first but after begging and pleading, he agreed to the meeting.

The alarm on my phone went off telling me it’s time to get going. With one last glance at myself I walked over to my dresser to spritz on a little more perfume. I touched bases with my chest, wrists and the back of my neck. Cutting the lights in the bedroom I headed out the door. Time for a fun night out!

“So where is this guy?” Corey asked, throwing back a shot with me. I searched the room looking for Julian not seeing him anywhere.

“He’s here somewhere. Estás pasando un buen rato? You look like you want to say something but you’re holding back because I asked you to meet this guy.” I said, pouring myself another shot.

“I’m good. I just want to meet your new man that’s all. So what’s he like?” Corey asked, pouring himself two more shots. He threw back both drinks and gripped both in his hands giving me a stern look.

“What?” I dropped my shoulders and fluffed up my hair a little. This liquor, whatever it is, is making me burn the fuck up! The dress is tight as hell and my thick ass hair is giving me even more trouble than my outfit. Corey shook his head and pointed to the other side of the room. I followed his hand spotting Julian emerging from another room. I laughed to myself seeing him trying to fight off Kelly who is clearly drunk beyond repair. He managed to sneak away while she had her back turned and make it over to where Corey and I stood.

“I was kidnapped I swear. I stepped away for two minutes to look for the bathroom and next thing I know I’m fighting off an adult size piranha. Is she always like that?” Julian chuckled, looking back to see if Kelly was anywhere nearby.

“Who Kelly? Hell yeah. It’s worse when she’s drunk. Julian, I want to introduce you to someone. This is Corey...Corey this is Julian.” I opened the floor up to them both waiting to see what will happen.

Coughing lowly I nudged Corey to at least give him a head nod as a sign of respect. Corey set the glasses on the counter and reached forward shaking Julian’s extended hand. “Nice to meet you bruh..” he said with a slur.

“Good to meet you too man. Sabrina tells me you two are real close.” Julian cleared his throat not taking his eyes off of Corey. The amount of dominance and pride I’m sensing right now is insane. I’m not sure if this was a good idea or not.

“Oh yeah, extremely..isn’t that right Bri?” Corey roped me in for a strong side hug. I threw one arm behind his back, stabbing him with my nails. He ignored what I did and kissed my forehead with no shame at all. “Nah but really we are close. We’ve been friends since we were kids so she’s like family to me a little bit.” Corey squeezed my shoulders and arms a bit, staring Julian down like he’s the black sheep of the party. He stuck around for maybe ten minutes and took off somewhere else.

When it was just the two of us I felt like I needed to apologize on Corey’s behalf. “He’s…” I can't even describe Corey in a short amount of words like I really want to.

“Protective? You sure he’s not secretly feeling you and just not saying anything?” Julian assumed, now standing beside me.

“What? No. No, Corey and I are friends that’s it. We look out for each other but I promise you have nothing to worry about.” I assured. “Let me introduce you to some of my other friends.” Grabbing his hand I walked him over to Ravyn and my other girls.

I know Corey wouldn’t purposely sabotage what I have going with Julian no matter what he’s feeling. I can only hope for the best.

COREY

“Come on handsome it’s time..” Ravyn pushed me from behind over to where everyone was heading. I stumbled behind everybody going out back. I saw Lori and her new man standing all close in front of her cake. He was all in her ear making her laugh and holding her close. Everyone gathered around singing Bri happy birthday with drunken smiles on their faces.

I stayed somewhat in the shadows, swaying along to the sound of their voices with a bottle in my hand. Once the main event of the night was over I went back inside. I’m drunk off my ass and once I spotted the perfect place to chill until I’m sober enough to drive, I was set. These last couple of months have been kind of hectic. I’ve been traveling a lot more for work but the gigs have been A1. Over the last three weeks or so I’ve had four design companies, two modeling agencies, and Tesla contact me to work for them. I accepted every job knowing damn well those kind of opportunities don’t happen to me everyday.

I haven’t talked much to Bri about her new venture and quite frankly it’s hard for me to even address the topic. The only way we talk about this baby thing is if she brings up the subject first. Of course I wonder how it’s going and what’s been going on but I just can’t fathom asking her about the shit myself. Bri turns thirty as of tomorrow afternoon at 2pm, officially. My guess would be that she’s feeling the pressure of that whole biological clock bullshit. I’ve been telling that girl to just take it slow and wait for her time to come but she’s so hardheaded!

I worry for Sabrina every day. She’s street smart and book smart, she’s got a ton of life experience and she’s about her shit. She’s a great girl but she’s too into the hype of settling down. I don’t doubt for a second that she won’t make a good mother because I know she will. I just don’t like when she’s in a rush to accomplish certain goals. All I’ve ever told her is to have patience and trust the path life has for her. But Sabrina is stubborn so there’s only so much advice she will actually listen to.

Getting up from the chair I did a little stretch and took my ass to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and glanced around the room carefully. “Bri..you’ve got some weird ass friends.” Shaking my head at the volume of crystals, buddha references, and chakra decor I walked over to the sink to wash my hands first. After I took a quick piss and washed my hands again I spotted a cup on the counter.

“What the fuck..” I slurred. Moving closer I picked the cup realizing it was a specimen cup. “Ohh, it’s little Julian Jr in here..” Chuckling to myself at what I was holding I sat down on the toilet seat lid and examined the label. “Congrats Julian..you’re gonna be a daddy..well sort of..” Shaking my head quickly I twisted my hat around to face the back.

I grabbed one of the buddha statues and set it on my right knee leaving space for the cup. “Little Julian..I wish upon you great success in life. May you look just like Bri and look nothing like yo ugly ass father..” I joked. Stupidly I dropped the cup on the floor watching the contents spill out on the purple rug. I thanked the man above for letting this nasty shit spill away from my sneakers.

“Oh shit!” I panicked, wondering how the hell I’m gonna explain this. A knock on the door scared me so I had to think of something quick to get whoever it is away from this room. “Go away! I’m gonna be a while!” I shouted waiting to see if they would stay or leave. Pacing the bathroom floor with my hands on my head I stared at the floor seeing Julian’s little swimmers just sit there. “Bri is gonna kill me..aw fuck Bri is gonna kill me..” Exhaling sharply I thought of a plan to fix this mess.

Suddenly I came up with the only logical explanation that will solve my problems tonight. Taking a seat again I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. Stopping at a random name I called up one of my home girls knowing she would answer.

“It’s been a minute. How are you handsome?” Eva spoke off bat.

“Wassup mama, I’m good. Yo I need a favor and please don’t ask me any questions.” I said in a rush. Glancing at the time I slapped myself in the head at how late it’s getting.

“Whatever you need I’m your girl. What’s going on?” Eva questioned softly.

“Facetime me and I’ll tell you the rest.” I unbuckled my belt waiting for this girl to just do what I asked of her.

“I take it you’re in a sticky situation?” She continued to press.

“Come on Eva, I said no questions. Just facetime me baby c’mon..” I plead. Eva complied and the second she saw my face I let her know what the deal is. Hopefully this goes over well because I’ll be damned if I ruin Bri’s plans to have this baby. Regardless of my opinions on her choice I’d never stand in the way of her happiness.

#the march blessing #short story

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lambent-loser · 6 years

Text

He’s Pretty In Pink

Chapter 1

A reddie Pretty in Pink AU where Richie works in a record store and meets the cutest little rich kid he’s ever laid eyes on.

Word Count: 2064

The familiar scent of petrichor lingers in the autumn air. The simple smell the morning rain has left on the surrounding damp sidewalks is enough to cause a smile to tug at the corners of the brunette’s lips. Richie Tozier is a man of simple pleasures. All his life he’s grown up without much, so he learned quickly to enjoy the small things in life. This makes him a pretty optimistic person by comparison to most others at 18. So even as the moisture from the weather seeps through the canvas of his hand-me-down converse high-tops, he smiles to himself, enamored by the way the rain can wash away the scent of the city, even if only for a few hours. It’s pleasant.

He nods his head to the rhythm of the music coming from the cassette in his Walkman. Richie bought the device with his very first paycheck and he has yet to regret the purchase. He uses it daily to play the music he buys at a discount from the record shop he works at after school. The place is called High-Voltage Records, which Richie deemed a ‘bitchin’’ name the day he found out they were hiring. He’s been working there for four years now and he genuinely enjoys the job.

Richie walks into the empty store and dances his way to the backroom without a care in the world. There he comes face to face with his absolute best friend. Richie met Beverly Marsh his first day on the job. He later found out the girl had been hired only a month or so prior to himself. One thing everyone needs to understand about Beverly is that she is beyond beautiful. She isn’t pretty in a conventional way. No, she’s confident with a glare that could stop your breath in your throat. Her hair holds almost as much fire as her gaze and her freckle spattered cheeks hold a softness that reminds Richie of early summer mornings before the heat becomes unbearable. When he first saw her that day four years ago, Richie was convinced he’d found his soulmate. Now, of course, they laugh about it.

“’Ello, Ms. Marsh. Top o’ the mornin’ to ya,” he greets in an obnoxious British accent as he removes his headphones. Richie believes he is a master of accents and impressions, but Beverly seems to think otherwise. He doesn’t get it and he will never stop calling himself comedy gold.

Beverly rolls her eyes and finishes pinning on her nametag that has been decorated with various stickers.

“Okay. For one, Rich, it’s literally three in the afternoon and also… your accent is bad,” she insists for at least the fiftieth time that week.

Richie attaches his own nametag to his patched-up jean jacket and adjusts his glasses.

“Oh, c’mon, Bev. Don’t be so mean to me,” he pouts with a grin.

They both head onto the main floor and Beverly turns on the blue and red neon light that displays to the public that the shop is open while Richie unlocks the door. The lanky boy sifts through the stash of music behind the counter and chuckles before picking out Duran Duran’s Rio album. It’s fairly new but both he and Bev have most of the songs memorized since it’s so popular. The ginger rolls her eyes at his album choice, but when “Hungry Like The Wolf” begins to play through the old speakers even she starts to sing along.

She and Richie have developed some kind of awfully choreographed dance to several songs including this one, so they confidently dance around the vacant store to the tune as they sing out of key. This is how days usually are at the shop: filled with smiles, laughter, and bad dancing. Sometimes Richie will even let Bev paint his nails or do his makeup while they talk about cute boys AND girls when business is slow. That’s another thing the two found out they have in common.

Despite their conversations, neither Beverly nor Richie have been very successful in their pursuit of love. Both are rather quirky and don’t really fit in anywhere. While life at the record store is good, this means that social life at school is challenging for them both. The only reason either of them is even able to attend the preparatory school is because an equal education initiative was passed five years ago that required a percentage of the student body to come from families with incomes below the poverty line. At Harrison Prep, these students became known as, for the most part, freaks.

Richie is good at dealing with things like that. He’s good at smiling through the insults and coming up with clever comebacks. Sure, he dresses weird and cracks a sinful amount of jokes, but he doesn’t see how that makes him ‘freakish’. If being a freak means being confident and having a good time, then he doesn’t mind the insult. He feels a lot happier than all the other students at school look.

Beverly is not as confident as Richie. In the moment she is witty and sassy and is able to defend herself just fine, but it’s in the days following that the words get to her. Sometimes Richie catches her crying in the backroom and he rushes to the convenience store across the street to pick her up a pint of ice cream. It’s a good thing they have each other because both hate to be alone. So much so that they made a pact that if neither were married by thirty-five they would get married for tax purposes.

School the next day is bad. Beverly is sick so Richie is alone. It’s absolutely boring and Richie can hardly stand it, but he makes it through the day. As he steps out of the school to begin his trek to High-Voltage, he’s stopped by an especially nasty brute named Henry Bowers. He really doesn’t get how he can be called a freak while this kid wanders around.

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?”

Richie saw it coming, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

“To my job, because unlike you, my daddy doesn’t buy me anything I want.”

Sometimes Richie’s trash mouth gets him into trouble. The beefy boy throws Richie into the brick wall of the school and pins him there.

“What did you just say to me, faggot?!” he spits.

Richie rolls his eyes.

“Does that ugly ass mullet of yours fucking muffle sound? I said you’re a Daddy’s boy, Bowers!” he retorts.

Lots of trouble.

Henry punches him in the stomach and Richie is down. He continues his assault until he grows bored with Richie’s lack of retaliation. He spits on him before stalking away. The brunette groans in disgust and sits up, wincing at the sharp pains emanating from several places on his body.

After gathering himself, he heads to the record store. He still must cover his shift after all, even with Bev sick. Business is slow, so he uses it as an opportunity to clean up in the grimy bathroom that he has grown quite fond of. The crack in the mirror and the scent of a cheap air freshener have somehow managed to become comforting to the shaggy-haired boy. Even after cleaning up, Richie is left with a nasty looking black eye and a shallow gash on his right cheek.

He returns to the counter and takes a seat, resting his feet beside the cash register. He grabs a comic book and flips to the page he left off on, adjusting his glasses every once in a while when they slide down his nose. Richie isn’t sure how much has passed when he hears the bell on the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer.

Richie lowers his comic book just enough to peer over the top and nearly chokes on the air in his lungs. There, browsing the rows of vinyl records is the cutest fucking boy he’s ever seen. He’s got this neatly styled brown hair and these chocolate eyes that Richie thinks he might get lost staring onto. He’ll have to get a closer look, but he’s pretty sure the short boy has light freckles dusting his flushed cheeks. It must be chilly outside for his cheeks to be so red. Suddenly Richie is very self-conscious about the temperature of the store. It’s warm enough for him, right? He shakes the silly worry from his head and musters the courage to stand. Richie is naturally confident, but something about this boy makes his stomach churn with the same kind of anxiety you get right before your first kiss.

Richie pushes his glasses up on his nose and makes his way over to where the stranger is browsing.

“Can I help you find anything?” he queries. This is his job after all. Nothing weird about that.

Eddie glances at the store clerk. He takes notice of his ripped-up clothes, dirty shoes, and messy curls. For a moment, Richie thinks the boy is checking him out and he gets very excited before he notices the slight wrinkle in his nose. So that’s how it’s going to be. It’s only now that Richie pays any mind to what the boy is wearing. He’s dressed in short, ironed shorts and a pastel pink crewneck with a yellow collared shirt poking out of the collar. He looks cute in it all, but it’s clear he’s another one of the wealthier kids.

Eddie narrows his eyes at the scrappy clerk and shakes his head.

“No. I think I’ve got it. Thanks,” he mutters. His voice is dry and laced with a sassy bite. Richie rather likes the sound.

Richie may be too confident at times, but that also leads to persistence. He’s no quitter. He flips through some records and after a moment he selects one from a milk crate. He taps the small boy on the shoulder and in response he whips around, glaring daggers at Richie for scaring him.

“Hey, don’t get your panties in a twist, princess. I just have a music suggestion,” he offers, handing him the record.

Eddie takes it with a persistent frown.

“I told you I didn’t need help, and my name is Eddie. Don’t call me princess!” he demands with his hands on his hips.

Richie just likes him more and more…or at least he likes getting under his skin. Richie just shrugs.

“Well, Eddie Spaghetti, I just thought you might like that one. It’s one of my favorites,” he explains with a warm smile.

Eddie groans in response to the horrid nickname and turns away from Richie to keep looking, completely ignoring the glasses-clad boy. Richie returns to the register and watches the boy curiously. Honestly, Eddie seems horribly lost surrounded by all the music and it’s almost as if he’s clutching onto the album Richie suggested for dear life. After nearly five more minutes of aimlessly wandering the shop, Eddie finally approaches the register, setting Richie’s suggestion on the counter to be purchased.

“So, you decided to trust me after all, didn’t you, Eds?” he teases with a smirk. He leans down across the counter and gets really close to the short boy. “I promise you won’t regret it,” he purrs, pulling away to punch in the price.

Eddie huffs.

“It better be good if I’m paying seven dollars for it,” he grumbles, his face flushed.

Richie peers at him and then back at the register.

“I’ll give you the cutie discount. Five dollars please.”

Eddie’s cheeks are burning as he digs through his fanny pack and hands Richie a five-dollar bill. Before the taller boy can even put the record in a bag, Eddie snatches it off the counter and dashes out of the store, mumbling a barely audible ‘thanks’ on the way.

Richie watches him through the window and a breathes a soft sigh.

Eddie.

Beverly may be like a warm summer morning, but Eddie is like the hot midday. He’s running without shoes on and racing to eat popsicles before they melt into your hand and he’s the sun kissing your skin until the heat is burned into your very being. Eddie Kaspbrak is nothing like Richie Tozier has ever experienced before.

He has a feeling he’s going to be seeing a lot more of him.

Tag List: @delaina123

#reddie #reddiefanfiction #richie/eddie #richie #richie tozier #eddie #eddie kaspbrak #eddie spaghetti #eds #beverly #beverly marsh #it #it 2017 #the losers club #it fanfiction #pretty in pink au #hes pretty in pink #my work

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haprilona · 7 years

Text

Descendit Lunaticus, Chapter 4

Title: Descendit Lunaticus

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Genre: Hurt/comfort Rating: M Note: This is a ‘music fic’. Each musical note symbol ( ♫ ) links to a FFXV song that adds to the mood and reading experience. You’re not required to listen to the links while reading, but I highly recommend it! This story was written mostly for the sake of playing with the atmosphere and mood, not for the plot.

I recommend you read this in AO3 as it has drawings, correct formatting etc. to enhance the reading experience. Characters: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amiticia, Aranea Highwind, Iris Amicitia Relationships: Noctis/Lunafreya, Ignis/Aranea, Prompto/Cindy Word count: 19049 Summary: When Ardyn makes Noctis choose between the Crystal and his friends, Noctis chooses his friends out of brotherly love and dooms the world. A decade later Noctis is no longer the Chosen King fighting to reclaim his throne, but a common hunter whose only purpose in life is his friends and protecting the remaining Lucian civilians from the horrors of the eternal night. One day he is reunited with someone he thought was forever out of his reach, but not in a manner he would’ve wanted.

Also at AO3 & FF.net

♫

Noctis sat back and watched Prompto set up his modified Drillbreaker on an elemental deposit. He covered his ears and watched as the drill sprung alive with the revving of its engine. It dug into the elemental-rich earth and drained it of its energy, similar to how his Engine Blade harvested said force from slain daemons and beasts. Next to the drill were several metal barrels meant for the harvested fuel.

The driller wore large yellow earmuffs that shielded his hearing from the loud buzzing. They were covered in doodles made with a thick tipped marker: a chocobo, a curvy monkey covered in grease – a reference to Cindy, he presumed – and the main cast from King’s Knight to name a few. Even his newly gifted garage overalls had been decorated with random inked phrases and doodles. Clearly his friend had taken the chance to vent his boredom during the long car drives on his clothes. He wondered what Cid thought of Prompto’s artistic habits.

Noctis buried his bearded chin in the collar of his coat. There were no trees near Dainse haven to cover them from the chill breeze that carried all the way from Callatein’s Plunge. The steam of his breath tickled his face. Figuring he wasn’t going to get any warmer by sitting on his backside, he removed one hand from his ear, tapped his friend’s shoulder and waited for the drilling to stop.

“Sup?” Prompto removed the tacky earmuffs and wiped his sweaty forehead.

“I’m freezing my ass off. I’m gonna take a walk.”

The freckled man looked apologetic. “Ahh. Sorry, buddy, I didn’t pack another drill with me.”

Noctis shoved his freezing hands in his pockets. “That’s ‘cause you don’t have another drill.”

Prompto grinned. “True.” He took out an empty crystal flask from his pocket, put a pipe in one of the barrels and with a turn of the tap filled the flask before casually tossing it to his friend. “Just don’t go too far. I don’t wanna get ambushed by daemons.”

Noctis caught the flask. “I’ll watch your back. Just need to get my blood flowing is all.”

With that Prompto put his earmuffs back on and switched on the drill. Noctis briskly walked further away from the ear-piercing racket.

Ignoring the phone vibrating against his thigh was becoming a habit as Noctis didn’t need to confirm the caller ID to know it was Iris. He had been avoiding her for the last two days and had yet to reveal his mistake to anyone, even Prompto. Not necessarily for the lack of wanting to – although that did play a part in his reluctance – but because he didn’t know how to bring it up.

‘Hey, Gladio. I screwed your sister.’ He wouldn’t have to worry about continuing the Lucis Caelum line after the fiercely overprotective brother was done sterilising him.

‘Ignis, do I smell like Iris? Your theory would be correct this time.’ He’d be lucky to escape with a firm lecture.

‘Prompto, you said you wanted to see me hook up with Iris…’ Definitely not what his friend had meant.

He couldn’t keep ignoring the issue forever. If he didn’t address Iris and talk this through, she would bring it up to ‘Gladdy’ and then the whole fort would know.

Bracing himself, Noctis brought the cell phone to his ear and pressed the ‘accept call’ -button. A long monotonous beep was his only reward. She must’ve hung up just as he answered. Figures. No way did he had the guts to call her himself.

With a frustrated sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket. Guess he’d just have to talk to her once they returned to the fort. Noctis noticed Umbra hiding under the van. The dog was a pathetic sight as he covered the sensitive ears with his paws to muffle Prompto's drilling.

Noctis knelt down and peered under the car. “You okay there, boy?”

The canine gritted his fangs in an ugly grimace as if commenting on the noise. Chuckling, Noctis dragged the dog out.

“Some guard dog you are. C’mon, I need to write Luna a message.”

Reluctantly Umbra allowed himself to be pulled out from under the car. The notebook was removed from its casing and flipped to a blank page. Noctis hadn’t seen her since she brought him the Carbuncle figurine and healed his arm. He wanted their next meeting to be more casual and less about saving dying birds or his sorry hide. More than anything, he wanted to actually sit down and talk with her. To her. Whatever. He could start by asking why she never spoke.

It was slightly unnerving how easily he had gotten accustomed to the unnatural. To him it was perfectly normal that he could contact his dead fiancée through an old weathered notebook that was carried by an immortal dog. It was just another day in his life when he caught brief glimpses of a white dress from his peripheral vision or when the latest injury from a daemon encounter was mysteriously healed the next morning.

He tapped the end of the pen against his bearded chin as he tried to think of a good way to invite her over.

‘I’d like to spend time with you, if your undead schedule isn’t too full.’ Nah.

‘Poor little old me misses my friendly ghost. Throw this geezer a bone and come visit?’ Hell no.

When did he become such a loser? He scratched his cheek absently. Last time she came to visit, Noctis had thanked her for saving him and expressed his longing for her presence. Maybe a good ol’ ‘I miss you’ could do the trick?

He glanced at the miserable dog and the bushy tail tugged between quivering legs. Umbra really hated that drill. Somehow he could be brave and ferocious when dealing with daemons and not be bothered at all by the racket of turrets firing right beside him, but for some reason Prompto’s drill was making him miserable. Maybe it produced some sort of high-pitched whine along with the regular buzzing that only dogs could hear.

Noctis set his pen on paper. ‘Miss you. Come visit me soon?’ Much better. Simple yet effective. He wondered how she could receive the message when the messenger refused to do his job. In the end it hardly mattered as long as it worked. He closed the book and put it back in its casing before standing up and letting Umbra inside the van. The noise was much more bearable there. Making sure the Engine Blade was securely tied to his belt, Noctis made his way back to Prompto.

♫

As soon as he drove the van past the gatekeeper-MT, Noctis spotted the pale figure of Little Luna balancing on top of a fence that separated the airship landing zone from the rest of the fort. A slow grin crept to his lips. She had received his message.

“Is that who I think it is?” Prompto peered through the windshield.

Noctis couldn’t keep the excitement from his tone. “Yep.”

He parked the van and stepped out. Prompto jogged off to find a trolley to move the elemental energy-filled barrels to the garage. Despite civilians and hunters alike flocking the area, Noctis could clearly see Little Luna’s white dress gently swaying in the chill breeze above the crowds. She spotted him and waved. Incontinently he waved back. He doubted people would pay any attention to him or realise he was waving at thin air – from their perspective, anyway.

He didn’t notice someone else returning his wave.

“Noct!”

His eyes fell from Little Luna to the brunette in farmer’s overalls.

“There you are. I’ve been worried about you! You haven’t answered my calls.” A strong smell of hay floated up to his nose as she came closer. Her boots were covered in mud and chocobo manure. She must’ve just returned from the farm. He could make out Talcott’s familiar flannel shirt and Hammerhead cap peeking behind passing bodies.

“Must’ve had my phone on mute”, Noctis easily lied. He didn’t want to have ‘The Talk’ in public. “Doesn’t help I’m half-deaf after hearing Prompto’s drill for an hour.”

Iris let out a relieved sigh accompanied by a small giggle. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay now. You’ve been acting strange lately and I didn’t really know what to make of it.”

“Yeah.” Noctis shifted his weight uneasily and glanced to where Little Luna had been standing. Of course she was gone. Damn it.

“Say, Noct. With all the hustle and bustle of the Market day and the daemon attack, we haven’t really had the chance to spend time together. You should ask Ignis to grant you a day off.”

A day off? It’s not like he had assigned work days; he worked when it was required. Other times he passed time with mundane activities or helping Cid with what he could. Although he rarely had to worry about boredom as Aranea was more than eager to make sure he didn’t stay inactive for long.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. “What for?”

“So we could hang out, silly!”

This could be his chance to find privacy to dissuade her of any romantic notions. He doubted she wanted an audience. He sure didn’t. But he didn’t like misleading her and giving her false hope.

Noctis nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Little Luna appear from behind Iris’ back. She settled between them and looked up, her head turning back and forth between them as if assessing the situation. Seeming to come to a conclusion, she took a step back to stand next to Iris and frowned. She ruffled her blond hair and made a valiant effort to style it similarly to his before stuffing her hands in imaginary pockets and hunching forward. Was she imitating him?

Not able to help himself, he snorted.

Ha. Ha. Very funny, you cheeky little imp.

Iris’ smile faded as confusion weighing down her pink lips. “What?”

“That’s a good idea”, he managed to say even as his lips quivered from a suppressed grin. Little Luna beamed up at him and dropped her hands from the imaginary pockets. Reaper, he had missed her. He would do anything to see her smile.

“Really? I mean, great! I’ll ask if I could get Ignis to cook us something.”

Oh crap. She was taking their social outing as a date. Not only a date, but a dinner date. Way to ruin her day by ending it with a “sorry, it’s not you, it’s me”-talk.

“Maybe that’s too much”, he tentatively cut in. “I mean, Ignis is busy with work and can’t just come down from his tower to cook a meal for random denizens.”

Iris put her dirt-covered gloved hands on her hips and glowered. A storm brewed in her hazel eyes. This could end badly. Next to her Little Luna copied her expression and pose. It was hard to concentrate with her actively trying to make him laugh. “We’re not just random denizens; we’re his friends! I’m sure he’d like to have a break and do something he actually loves for a change!”

How did he always end up in these situations?

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea”, he mumbled in defeat.

Recognising his reluctant agreement, Iris grinned at him in delight. She always got her way when it came to him, Gladio, Ignis and later Prompto. After all, she was the group’s baby sister and they had adored pampering her ever since she was a little girl. But then she reached her thirteenth year and started casting doe-eyes his way whenever they happened to be in the same room. Those two years had been highly awkward times and he had made sure never to leave Gladio’s side whenever visiting the Amicitia household. When he had complained about the youngest Amicitia’s behaviour to Ignis, the advisor-in-training assured him that it would pass and she was just having a little crush on him.

“Not so different from the one you nurture on Lady Lunafreya, I should think.”

“I-I am not!” his seventeen-year-old self had heatedly claimed, but even back then he hadn’t fooled anybody.

Those were much simpler times.

“I’ll let you know when it’s ready. And be sure to wear something nice!” Offering a final wave in parting, she joined Talcott and strolled down to the underground levels with a spring in her step.

Defeated, Noctis ran a hand through his hair in frustration before glancing at his ghostly companion. Little Luna covered her mouth to silence her muffled giggles.

“I’m glad you find this funny”, he grumbled and went to help Prompto unload the barrels from the van.

Noctis sauntered to his dorm. Iris had asked him to wear ‘something nice’. A simple request, but not one he could fulfil. His idea of nice equalled a clean hunter’s uniform, since he didn’t exactly own outfits for casual social events. Figuring he could leave the vest, scarf and weapons behind, just this once, he pulled out a clean shirt from the wardrobe. He stripped out of his coat and skull-printed shirt and carelessly tossed them on the bed. When he didn’t hear the expected rustle of cloth hitting cloth, he turned around and saw Little Luna sitting on his bunk and peering at him through the collar of his shirt. Suddenly self-conscious about his topless state, he turned his back to her and hurriedly pulled the long-sleeved black shirt on.

Little Luna dropped the shirt and coat, stood up and held one hand behind her back as if she was hiding something. She beckoned him to come closer.

“What are you up to this time, you little minx?” His grin softened the bite of his words. Hands on his hips, he stood in front of her and quizzically raised a brow.

She motioned him to turn around. Noctis frowned in suspicion, but complied with a melodramatic sigh. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I.”

Something was wrapped tightly around his neck. For a brief moment he panicked as he imagined a noose strangling him, but the expected light-headedness resulting from running out of air never came. He looked down. It was the tie he had worn with his royal raiment back in Insomnia. He turned around to glare at the little girl.

“It’s not a date. I don’t need to dress up.” Ignoring her pout, he pulled the white striped black tie off. She lowered her glassy eyes to stare at her toes. Was she seriously sulking over a tie of all things? Why did she want him to wear it so badly? He sat down next to her and fingered the silken cloth. Was it because she had expected to see him wear it while waiting for him in Altissia? Was he denying her an innocent daydream?

He loosely tied the piece of cloth around her bare neck. “You know what? If you want to see me in the suit so badly, I promise I’ll put it on for your-“, he stopped himself. Curious, she looked up at him expectantly, but he didn’t have the heart to say it out loud.

♫

Funeral.

Her funeral was less than two weeks away.

It had been over a month since he found Little Luna in Caem and retrieved the corpse of his fiancée from the icy waters. She remained in the same condition as when he found her; one unfocused eye staring into space, pale slime-covered skin of a recently killed victim and lacking the foul stench one would associate with a corpse. Even if she was left unattended with her body bag open, the flies didn’t appear interested enough to bother her. She was frozen in time like the flowers Little Luna had given to him. Ignis suspected her body was biologically four to six hours old after death. When Noctis had asked how he knew that, especially without his vision, Ignis told him to try clenching her fingers into a fist. Thinking nothing of it, the hunter had done as asked only to realise it was impossible.

“Rigor mortis. Causes limbs to stiffen and lasts seventy-two hours. Can occur as early as four hours post-mortem”, Ignis had explained. “Truly curious how she hasn’t proceeded past the third stage of death. Do you suppose the ghost of Lady Lunafreya you mentioned earlier could have something to do with it?”

“Definitely. I think she has everything to do with Luna’s condition.”

It was then that he had noticed her left hand. The dominant hand had been clutched as if she was holding an invisible pen. He could’ve sworn both of her hands had been in a relaxed position when he last visited her. It had made him think; had he received the notebook messages from her instead of Little Luna? Or was she truly one and the same? The black blood he had found next to the last entry pointed towards her smaller counterpart. He highly doubted the Luna in the body bag would just unzip her bag from the inside, walk to his room while he slept and write to him as well as bleed over their notebook.

Noctis carefully studied Little Luna. She didn’t seem to have any visible wounds besides the faint bruises that peeked underneath his tie. However, the Luna in the morgue still had the blackened stab wound below her right breast. He had to admit to himself that the image of Luna’s animated corpse moving around was highly unsettling. As desperate as he was to be with his fiancée and enjoy every waking moment he could steal from her younger counterpart, he couldn’t say he wanted to add more to his ever lengthening list of nightmares.

Little Luna smiled sadly as she realised what he had left unsaid. He wondered if she knew what would happen after the funeral. Would she stay with him or disappear for good? From the bittersweet turn of her lips he could tell more than he wanted to know.

“Hey.” He gently lifted her chin. “I’ll join you soon enough. You just enjoy your well-deserved break from saving my sorry behind, okay?” He tried to imagine living another thirty to forty years without her. He doubted he’d ever live to be as old as Cid. Even reaching sixties seemed highly unlikely; something was bound to kill him long before then, whether it was daemons, his own recklessness or ever elusive sanity, an illness or something as mundane as extreme case of food poisoning.

Her small hands balled into fists in her lap. It was an unpleasant conversation, but he needed to get it out of his chest and make sure she fully understood what she meant to him. “I swear I’m not meant for anyone else. What happened with Iris was a mistake and I intend to tell her that.” He took her cool hands in his and opened the fists by interlacing their fingers together. “I admit I’ve been a coward and avoided her, but I know it’s unfair to keep her in the dark.” Her troubled eyes focused slightly past him in deep thought. He wished he could somehow read her thoughts from her layered face.

Noctis released her other hand and lifted his knuckles to caress her bare shoulder. She didn’t appear to notice. There were no shivers nor did she get goosebumps on her pale skin from his feather-light touch. He scolded himself internally for expecting her to react. Their last night together should’ve made it clear to him that she was unable to enjoy his proximity in the same way he enjoyed hers. It wasn’t a mutual relationship if one could even call it one. She was always giving while he was always taking. “And it’s equally unfair to you”, he quietly added.

To his surprise Little Luna pointed at his chest and cupped her hands. She presented her open palms to him as if offering his heart back.

Creases formed on his forehead from a frown as he attempted to decipher her hand signs. “You’re saying my heart is free to let you go and move on?”

He didn’t miss how she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips to keep them from trembling or the sadness that flashed in her downcast eyes before disappearing under the curtain of her fringe. Little Luna solemnly nodded. She was serious about this. It was obvious she didn’t want to lose him, but true to her nature she would rather leave this world knowing he would be happy after she was gone. Not only did she look after him and his health, she held his happiness in high priority – even if it meant sacrificing her own.

“Idiot.”

She sharply looked up, confusion and hurt dancing in her misty gaze.

“I can’t ignore how I feel about you. It’s you or no-one.” His lips curled into a teasing smirk. “Besides, my heart has a no-return policy.”

A faint, almost unnoticeable rosy hue dusted her pale cheeks and she shyly played with the hem of her dress. Overwhelmed with adoration, he wasn’t able to resist the sudden impulse to place a hand to the nape of her neck and guide her head closer to his. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach when he saw her blond-lashed eyelids closing instinctively. His lips delicately brushed the corner of her mouth in a chaste kiss. As much as he wanted physical proximity from her that had been denied from him when she died, he didn’t dare to cross the thin line between romantic and familial intimacy. She had the appearance of a child and he was old enough to be her father. He was scared what she might think of him if he were to indulge in more passionate displays of affection.

She didn’t resist when Noctis pulled her to a tender hug and rested his bearded chin against her blond crown. Gradually she relaxed and allowed her cheek to lean against his breast. He was certain she could hear and feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Not for the first time, Noctis wished he could give Little Luna more than these fleeting moments, that he could keep his promise to her and fulfil the prophecy that everybody close to him seemed to think he was a part of. But he wasn’t a virtuous warrior of legend like Cor or a noble king like his father. He was just a broken man who had little hope of redeeming himself before the time came to face his forefathers.

Little Luna’s skinny arms wrapped around his waist. He had nearly forgotten how good it felt to be held. His eyes closed involuntarily as he exhaled in content.

His walkie-talkie buzzed.

“Oh, come on”, he grumbled in irritation.

Little Luna pulled away and fetched the bothersome device for him.

“Thanks.” He rewarded her with a quick peck on the cheek before bringing the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “State your business.”

Prompto’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, uh. Iris told me to let you know she’s waiting for you.”

“Gotcha.” He tossed the walkie-talkie next to his discarded clothes on the bed. “Guess that’s my cue. Wish me luck.”

She picked up his Carbuncle figurine from the nightstand and placed it in his palm. He turned the wooden ornament in his hand before pocketing it. “I’m not really into charms and such, but if you think this’ll help, I’ll definitely carry it around the clock.” Her encouraging smile made him feel like he was ready for anything, even to face the possibility of breaking a good friend’s heart. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Halting at the door, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Luna. When I come back, I wanna talk with you. Really sit down and talk. There’s so much I need to know.”

Glazed eyes stared past him, but she slowly nodded in acknowledgement.

“So no disappearing acts, eh?”

She pointed at the seam on her face and waved a finger in a refusal.

“All right, we’ve got a deal.” He walked back to her, lowered to his knees and offered a pinky. It reminded him of the day he had persuaded her to leave Caem behind. Her face serious, she wrapped her pinky around his and shook. “You won’t disappear on me as long as I don’t try ripping your face off. Sounds reasonable enough.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. He chuckled and left with a final parting pat on her blond head.

♫

He was pointed to the command tower. Aranea stood by the elevator, her heeled boot impatiently tapping against the asphalt.

“About time. I have actual work to do.” She ushered him inside the lift and placed her key card on the reader. Instead of the top floor, she pressed the third floor.

Noctis eyed the Niflheimian woman curiously. She was in full battle gear and carrying a satchel filled with potions and cooling gel patches. Her previously destroyed leg guard had been replaced. “What work?”

Her tone was taut from vexation. “A single red giant has been sighted heading our way by one of the scouts. I don’t want that thing anywhere near the fort. The walls get weaker every time we have to repair them and I’m not about to have greenhorn hunters losing their lives due to inexperience.”

“I could help”, he immediately offered.

“Thanks, but I can’t have Specs slaving over your fancy dinner date for nothing. Besides, I have Biggs and Wedge. We work better as a team than you and I. No offence.”

He internally cringed at the mention of a dinner date. “None taken.”

Aranea listened to the coordinate exchanging on the radio for a moment before briefly glimpsing at him. “Aren’t you a little under-dressed for the occasion?”

He glanced at his red-soled boots, black jeans and shirt before shrugging. “Not sure what you’re talking about. What’s so special about this event?”

The dragoon brought her gauntleted hand up as if to rub her temple, but her helmet’s visor blocked the subconscious motion. “Your date hasn’t even officially begun and already I see a red flag.”

Noctis huffed and crossed his arms. “Speak plainly, will you.”

“That Amicitia girl had Specs make you fancy food, redecorated our personal dining room for a candle-lit dinner and dolled herself up under strict guidelines of dress to impress. And then you show up in jeans. Either you’re as ignorant as Specs is blind or you’re not into her at all.”

Oh great. Now Aranea was pulling an Ignis on him. Deducing should be left for detectives only. Then again, he figured being the leaders of a settlement required some detective-skills.

“I see.”

The lift came to a stop.

“Right, I’m off. Play nice.” She pushed him out of the elevator. “Oh, and by the way, our bedroom is off-limits.”

A rather ungentleman-like retort threatened to come out of his mouth as he spun on his heel, but was cut off when the lift-door closed and blocked contact with the shameless dragoon.

With a roll of his eyes, Noctis entered the dining room. As he feared, the lights had been switched off in favour of using candles. At least they weren’t scented candles as those tended to give him headaches. He wasn’t sure if they were even a thing anymore in the post-apocalyptic world. Some people had hoarded luxury items from the old world and now made a living by selling them at ridiculous prices.

Their food waited on the table hidden beneath dome-shaped covers. He wondered where Ignis had gotten them. He was aware the blind brunet did some shady trading if the dozen boxes with dubious labels in his trailer were anything to go by.

“Noct, I thought I asked you to wear something nice.”

He turned towards the scolding voice and felt his mouth go dry.

Noctis had always been aware Iris was pretty, beautiful even as she grew older, but he wasn’t prepared to see her as she was now. Gone were the faded farmer’s overalls and dirty boots. In their place was an elegant black dress that hugged her figure in the right places. The hem of her dress barely reached her knees and exposed her toned legs. A tastefully cut neckline made it difficult for him to look at her without his gaze falling to inappropriate places. Swallowing heavily, he focused on the familiar choker and necklace that she had worn during their journey from Lestallum to Caem. Her hair had been tied up to a fancy bun that must’ve required a helping hand from a friend to achieve.

Everything about this situation felt so wrong; almost like he was intruding on a private moment that was never meant to be seen by him. It was nearly on the same level of wrong if he were to witness Prompto walking in on Luna wearing nothing but lingerie.

Awkwardly he cleared his throat. “Afraid I don’t own anything nice.”

Iris crossed her arms. Was he imagining it or was she subtly pushing her breasts up with her arms?

Reaper, kill me now.

“I know you still have your suit.”

“That’s meant for special occasions.”

♫

Wrong answer.

“And this isn’t?”

He scratched his head as he tried to think of something less offending to say without having to lie. “I’ll wear it only when I’m representing myself as Lucian royalty. Right now it’s just two friends spending time together. Hardly reason to put the royal raiment on.”

“Friends.” The way she said the word was as if she had taken a bite of a lemon, skin and all.

He’d have to be tactful. For one, they should eat first before bringing up the difficult subject and not waste Ignis’ efforts.

“Better not let the food get cold.” Remembering his manners, he pulled the chair for her.

They ate in silence. The mood was strained. Iris was clearly not impressed by his approach on their ‘date’. She was clever enough to realise the night wouldn’t end with a sequel to their last… session.

She daintily wiped her pink lips with a napkin and pushed her plate to signal she was done. “So, are we done beating around the bush, Noct? I can see we’re not on the same page and had totally different expectations for tonight.”

Noctis finished his meal. He made a mental note to praise Ignis’ cooking and thank him for his trouble, even if it was in vain. Setting the napkin aside, he leant forward with his hands clasped and elbows resting on the table. Time to address the catoblepas in the room. “Iris, I’ll be blunt. That night was a mistake.”

She visibly tensed, her slim fingers gripping the armrests of her chair. Her face was void of any expression as she tried to process what he had just said.

“Truth is, you found me at a very bad time and I was ready to do just about anything to forget about my problems. Had I been sober, I would’ve never agreed to sleep with you.”

Her grip tightened until her knuckles were white. “So you’re saying you used me?”

Noctis sighed and lowered his gaze. He felt terrible, but it was too late to back down. And even if he could, it would only get worse over time. Best make this as swift and painless as possible. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

He could feel Iris’ gaze boring holes into his head, but couldn’t summon the will to look up and witness her heart breaking into million pieces. His guilty conscience suffered from too many nightmares already.

Iris’ nostrils flared as her breathing grew erratic. She clenched her hands to keep them from visibly shaking, her lips quivering and voice brittle as she spoke. “Why were you in that state in the first place? What happened to make you so desperate?” She was having hard time accepting his rejection.

He couldn’t tell her about Little Luna. She would never believe him and would think he was blaming Luna for his state of mind. “I’ve been suffering from night terrors and anxiety attacks. They got worse when I returned from the mines.”

“I heard from Gladdy that you were poisoned.”

“Yes.”

Despite having the opportunity to take the easy route and blame his condition on poison, Noctis wanted to be as honest with her as he was able. He had to take responsibility over his actions and make it crystal clear to Iris that he had no intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with her.

A loud sniffle forced his attention back to her. By some basic instinct coded in male DNA, his eyes shot up to see her hazel eyes well with tears. A tear fell, then another. Panicked, he hurried to her side and dabbed at her cheeks with a napkin. Oh crap. Gladio would kill him for making her cry.

“Am I not good enough for you? Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?”

Iris and Luna. Day and night. They couldn’t be more different. Whereas Luna bottled up her pain in favour of allowing him to pursue his own happiness, Iris openly expressed her unhappiness and attempted to bargain to change his mind. He’d have to be mindful of his words, yet not give in an inch or she’d wrap him around her pinky like she did with her brother. She was cunning as a coeurl when she wanted to be.

“Iris, never question your self-worth. You’re funny, smart, sweet and easy on the eyes. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“But?”

Noctis sighed. Honest. He had to be honest. “But I can’t return your feelings.”

“Do you mean that, Noct? Am I really nothing more than just a temporary relief for you to use and forget about the next day?” She openly sobbed and wiped her eyes, but the tears just kept coming. There was no stopping the flood. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he helplessly watched her cry.

He took one of her hands and gently held it between his in an attempt to calm her down. “Of course not! Iris, you’re my friend. You’ve been my friend since I was fourteen and you will continue to be my friend for as long as you’ll have me. That’ll never change.”

Iris abruptly pulled her hand from his and stood up. “I need to go. Goodnight.” She nearly knocked the candles off the table as she made a run for the elevator. Noctis darted after her and blocked her escape at the last second. He grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her still. Cheeks burning from humiliation, she shut her eyes to block him out, but he knew she was listening. She always listened to him.

“Iris, I want you to know that this is in no way your fault or something you should feel ashamed of. I don’t want you to be stuck in an unhappy relationship with me. I know how much you’re willing to sacrifice for me, and trust me, it’s not worth it.”

Teary eyes lifted to his, followed by a dubious scoff. She still believed she could find her happily ever after with him like in the fairy tales. Somehow he had to make her understand, regardless of how bad he was at voicing his thoughts. He took a deep breath and wished he had at least a fraction of Ignis’ and Luna’s talent with speeches.

“I’m barely a shadow of the man I was ten years ago and incapable of giving you what you want from me.” His grip on her subconsciously tightened as shame weighed his shoulders down. “I’m a walking disaster and there’s no living person on Eos that can fix me.” The only one he believed capable was dead.

“Obviously not, when you won’t let anybody close enough to try!” she cried. She was like a lovestruck teenager who refused to see him for what he was in favour of fawning over a warped, idolised version of him.

“I’m not a math problem that can be solved with time and patience”, he snapped. “Half of me died ten years ago in Altissia and the rest has rotted over time with each year I’ve failed to fulfil my supposed destiny!” His eyes blazed as anger and frustration leaked out beneath his calm and composed façade. He could barely hear his own voice past the rushing blood in his ears. “I’m not a prince from one of your romance novels.”

Painfully his fingers dug into Iris’ bare shoulders. She flinched and seemed to shrink away when for the first time she felt fear towards the man she had pined for since childhood.

As if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, Noctis froze when he realised what he was doing. Horrified, he released his hold on her. Bruises similar to the ones that permanently decorated Little Luna’s pale neck now marred Iris’ skin. Feeling light-headed, he lowered himself to the ground and covered his face in shame.

Iris sucked in a shuddering breath. He could detect sadness, disappointment, shame, fear and anger from the next three almost inaudible words. “No, you’re not.”

The elevator door opened and closed. She was gone.

He stayed on the floor and stared at his feet in a stupor. Their ‘date’ had been nothing short of a royal screw up.

♫

When he finally left the dining room, the candles had gone out and the floor was covered in darkness. In a daze, Noctis exited the lift and stumbled out of the tower into the cool autumn air. He could barely see in front of him or hear the clanking of patrolling MTs as they passed him.

Hey!

Not only had he ruined Iris’ night and stomped on her feelings, he had physically hurt her. He felt out of control and like he couldn’t trust himself anymore. It was one thing to ask her get over her crush on him, entirely another to expect forgiveness after physically assaulting her.

Is there anything you wanna tell me?

Could Luna even look him in the eye if she knew what he had done? How could she trust him to hold her without hurting her when he had harmed one of his dearest friends in a fit of anger? It was Balouve mines all over again. He took meagre solace in the fact that he hadn’t been armed. Reaper knows what might’ve happened.

Hey, I’m talking to you!

He bumped into something solid. Someone shoved him back. He lost his balance and fell on his backside on the hard asphalt. Large hands lifted him by the collar on his feet before he could even consider getting up on his own. His vision finally cleared enough to recognise the muscular tattooed arms and the furious scowl on his former bodyguard’s face.

“Care to tell me why my sister came back from your date in tears and with bruises?” His voice was dangerously low like a predator’s that was ready to jump on its prey.

Noctis gritted his teeth and shrugged off Gladiolus’s hold on him. “’cause I’m a fucking coward and a failure. I’m not fit for anyone, let alone your sister.” He raised his fists and settled to a fighting stance. “You here to fight? Let’s get this over with.” He was dying to let off some steam.

Gladiolus crossed his arms and stared him down, animosity twisting his mouth into a sneer. Just when Noctis thought the older man would give him a sound beating, Gladiolus slowly exhaled and forced the built up tension to dissolve. “I should knock some sense into that thick head of yours, but it ain’t worth it. Just because nobody hails you as king, doesn’t mean you can act like a brat.” Taken aback, Noctis lowered his fists.

“While you’ve been too busy moping and raiding the drug-dispensers, the rest of us have been doing the best we can to keep this fort safe.” Noctis clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. Iris must’ve told Gladiolus while he had been brooding in the command tower. He was fairly certain she had kept his secret until he removed her last reason to defend him. “You’re now one of the few remaining combat-ready hunters in this fort after the raid. So I want you to get your head out of your ass and get your act together. First thing tomorrow you’re apologising to Iris.”

Noctis squared his shoulders and evenly glared back at the older man. What little remained of his wounded pride insisted he keep stubbornly resisting, but he knew better than to argue. Instead, he opted to silently stare and channel his anger into good old fashioned passive aggression.

“Before I got here, I received a word from Aranea that there’s been increased daemon activity in the southern part of the peninsula. She’s worried another assault is imminent. So you, me and Prompto are gonna go take care of it.”

He was tempted to point out he and Prompto did just fine without him, but Noctis had known the tattooed man long enough to recognise when he was making a roundabout effort to reconcile. “Fine.”

Of course Gladiolus couldn’t just drop the issue there. He always had to have the final word. “And if you ever pull crap like this again, don’t think I won’t bring it up to Aranea and Iggy. Stealing from the medical staff is a serious crime, especially in this time and age.”

“It won’t happen again.” He had silently vowed as much after waking up to the stench of sweat and sex. Even in his dreams he had faced away from Iris as if his unconscious mind couldn’t forgive himself for the act he had committed. He could barely understand how Luna could forgive him so easily. Did she believe she didn’t have the right to feel cheated or upset, because she wasn’t part of the living world anymore?

Noctis pushed past the bodyguard and tensely made his way back to the dorm.

“See to it”, he heard Gladiolus call after him.

Prompto lifted his gaze from his tinkering when Noctis entered and shut the door behind him. The freckled man appeared to be doing monthly maintenance on his Auto Crossbow. “How did it go?”

“Pretty badly.” Noctis kicked off his boots and flopped into his bunk.

“Why? What happened?” Prompto set the machine aside and settled down next to him.

Throwing his arm over his tired eyes, Noctis exhaled loudly. “Long story short, we had a misunderstanding and I had to turn her down. We both lost our cool and I got physical with her without meaning to.”

His friend’s light blue eyes softened in sympathy. Prompto might have had only fragmented pieces of what Noctis had been through lately, but he understood the former monarch’s psyche better than most. He was willing to give Noctis the benefit of doubt and not jump into conclusions. “Have you apologised to her?”

“I will first thing tomorrow.” Suddenly realising something was missing, Noctis sat up and looked around. “Where’s Luna? And Umbra?”

Prompto shrugged. “Umbra’s doing that thing he does sometimes. Patrolling or something. Luna went with him.” He lowered his voice and smiled thinly. “I think she misses him.”

Noctis could empathise. Even with Little Luna nearby, he still missed her and longed for their days together in Tenebrae. It was not the same when they couldn’t stand on equal ground or even communicate like regular people. It was too easy to ignore the painful truth of their situation and pretend that she was as real as the other children of the fort. Only when his eyes would fall from her sweet smile to the ugly bruises on her neck or notice the mysterious seams peeking beneath her blond locks would he snap back to reality and remember the two of them were worlds apart.

At least he didn’t have to worry about Little Luna pretending he didn’t exist. He wished he could do something to make Umbra stop ignoring her. He recalled the dog noticing Little Luna when she first appeared to them, but had proceeded to treat her like thin air once Noctis discovered Luna’s corpse. Did he consider Little Luna a fake? Or was she literally like air was to him; something he knew existed, but couldn’t see and therefore took for granted until it was gone?

“Hey, Noct.” The blond hunter’s voice snapped him out of his musings.

“Yeah?”

Prompto pulled his legs to his chest and peered at Noctis. “Cindy and I have been thinking that I should move to Hammerhead. She’s busy with work and can’t make it to Fort Highwind to come visit.” He bit his lip and glanced at the nightstand where Cindy’s cap sat. “And honestly the whole long distance relationship thing kinda sucks.”

Noctis smirked. “I know that from first-hand experience.”

It had its perks. It was nice to unload all of his troublesome feelings and thoughts on paper for Luna to read and give her thoughts on when he knew he would have difficulties doing the same face to face. But mostly it was cons. He couldn’t hold her to make her feel better when she felt crushed beneath Niflheim’s thumb or squeeze her hand reassuringly and then look on in pride and adoration as the newly ascended Oracle stepped forward to provide healing to the desperate masses afflicted with the scourge.

He ruffled Prompto’s blond mop of hair. “So when are you flying out of the nest?”

“In a few days when the traders head to Leide. But don’t worry! I’ll definitely come back for the funeral. I’ve got the ride sorted out and everything.” Prompto’s eyes gleamed with giddiness and he leant closer as if about to tell a secret. “Apparently some former member of Kingsglaive is gonna attend and he lives close to Hammerhead.”

“Think I know the guy. Met him in Meldacio Stronghold while I was there with Ignis. His name is Libertus Ostium.”

Noctis had heard from Ignis in passing that the mines were cleared and Cor had already put weapon manufacturing into full production. Thinking of the children in Meldacio Stronghold and how they had wielded small knives on their person made him wish Aranea wouldn’t have to adopt a similar protocol in Fort Highwind. It was hard to imagine the care-free children of the fort wearing brown vests and carrying weapons like the grim youth of the stronghold. His imagination involuntarily conjured up an image of Little Luna wearing faded hunter’s uniform, covered in dirt and blood, her left hand clutching a short sword like a lifeline. He would have to step up and make sure they wouldn’t lose anymore hunters and that way ensure the children wouldn’t have to touch a weapon before their 18th birthday.

“I was thinking of wearing the Kingsglaive uniform in Luna’s honour at the funeral, but was worried I’d look like a fraud next to someone like Libertus.” Prompto’s gaze subconsciously fell to his covered wrist with the imprinted barcode.

Noctis pulled Prompto to a side-hug and rested his cheek against his friend’s freckled one. “If I’m allowed to wear the royal raiment, you’re definitely allowed to represent yourself as what you truly are. I’m sure Luna would agree.”

“What I truly am?” He couldn’t see Prompto’s face, but he could definitely hear the disbelief in his voice.

“You’ve proved yourself every day since we set out of Insomnia. You’re part of my guard, even if I don’t have the title to promote you to a member of the Kingsguard.” He affectionately squeezed his friend’s freckled shoulder. The upcoming mission might be their last together. He wanted Prompto to know his worth and what he meant to him before setting out to Leide. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner or a friend.”

He felt something wet touch his cheek. Pulling away, he saw Prompto embarrassedly wipe his teary eyes. “You don’t know how much it means to hear that from you”, his friend confessed with an abashed chuckle.

“I might have a vague idea.” Noctis lightly teased before sobering. “In all honesty, though, I doubt Libertus will think much of it. Specs wore the uniform while we were in the mines and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Prompto still appeared uncertain. “But he probably saw Ignis and Gladio a lot in the Citadel and knows their faces.”

“And soon he’ll know yours, too. I bet he’d like to increase his ranks and share some glaive-tricks.”

A slow grin lit up Prompto’s freckled features. “I’d like that.”

♫

The next morning when Noctis woke up to Prompto’s obnoxious chocobo alarm clock, he noted that Umbra hadn’t returned from his patrol. He didn’t have time to mull over it as he had to get a move on and find Iris before her assigned dorm group would go to the showers.

“Be a pal and reserve us a table. I’ll join as soon as I can.”

“Good luck”, Prompto called after him.

Iris’ dorm was at the other end of the corridor. Noctis’ and Prompto’s dorm was close to the stairs that led up to the surface level. As hunters they had to be close at hand for anything. Briskly Noctis walked past the civilians that made their way to the showers and the mess hall before continuing to their assigned work stations. Most of them ranged between ages twenty and forty. Families with children were located closer to the shelter further downstairs where civilians took refuge during daemon attacks. To Aranea the safety and defence of new generations was held paramount. She understood their importance.

Noctis approached the familiar wooden door with a tacky heart-shaped ‘welcome’-sign. Iris shared her room with Wiz’s granddaughter whom she had befriended when the Niflheim base had still been known as Fort Vaulleroy. Outside farm-related business, he hadn’t really talked with the girl much.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Just a second”, a half-hearted female voice slurred. The door cracked open and he was greeted by the sight of a barely awake Iris. He peered past her into her room and saw piles of used tissues scattered over the bunk, table and floor. She must’ve been crying all night and had barely caught any shuteye. Guilt twisted his insides.

Iris blinked several times and rubbed her face. Once she was certain her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, she fixed her slouched posture and glared at him. “What do you want?”

Noctis tried to ignore the people passing Iris’ dorm. Most of them didn’t pay them any mind, but he could feel occasional pair of eyes glancing their way in curiosity. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene.

“Can I come in?”

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “No.”

Noctis sighed and ran his hand through his messy black locks. “Look, I’m really sorry for last night. I know you were really looking forward to it-“

“Understatement of the century”, she scoffed and crossed her arms.

“-I just needed the privacy to tell you the truth. I never intended to lead you on or hurt you.”

“Well, you did.” He could see the dim light of the corridor lamps reflecting from her watery eyes. Fresh tears threatened to fall, but she choked them back. He reflexively lifted his hand to touch her arm to comfort her, but she flinched back defensively as if anticipating a strike. Clenching his jaw, he let his hand fall uselessly to his side.

“Iris, you have to understand-“

“All I understand is that you’re an asshole!” Her tone dripped from venom, her usually friendly and warm eyes flashing from hurt and anger as she pointed an accusing finger at him. “Do you have any idea how it is to feel this way about you? How much I hate myself for it?”

Noctis frowned, his eyes widening in surprise and confusion. What was she talking about?

“Fifteen years, Noctis.” Her lower lip quivered as she took in a shuddering breath. “Fifteen damn years I’ve held these feelings in. I’ve liked you since I was a kid. Even when I knew you were going to get married, I couldn’t just make my feelings go away no matter how hard I tried. And when she was gone, I thought I had been given a chance to be with you. But then you went off on your own and I heard from Gladdy that you were trying to find a way to fix everything. I admired and loved you all the more for it.”

Her long brown bangs hid her eyes as she lowered her chin and clenched her hands into fists, nails painfully digging into the skin of her palms. “But when you came back to us, you never so much as looked my way.”

Her voice cracked. “That night I thought you were opening up to me and I wanted to help you. I thought you could finally see me as a woman who loves you, not just your bodyguard’s little sister. I was a fool.”

Her shoulders slumped, the last remnants of her anger spent. Too tired to fight back, she let the tears freely stream down her cheeks. “All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the way you did when you saw Lady Lunafreya on broadcasts.”

Hesitantly Noctis took a step closer, hoping to comfort her somehow, but her shields were instantly up and she shoved him away from her. “Don’t touch me!”

He held his hands up in a peace-offer. Seeing no other way to fix this mess, he decided to tell her the truth. “Luna isn’t gone, Iris. When I retrieved her body from Caem, it wasn’t the only thing I brought with me. I’ve seen her ghost regularly. She’s the one who found the missing chocobo. Without Luna’s interference, Prompto and I would still be searching for her. She even saved me from getting ambushed during the daemon raid.”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” Iris laughed humourlessly, her timbre dripping from bitterness. “Do you think you can blame your behaviour on a dead person? You’re a bigger bastard than I thought. I’m sick and tired of your crap. Just leave me alone.” She slammed the door in his face.

♫

Noctis pulled the van to a stop and addressed his bodyguard without bothering to face him. “Hope you’re not thinking about keeping that leather jacket on. Gonna be a short stealth mission if you give our position away the second we’re in earshot.”

Gladiolus glared at the back of his liege’s head, but shrugged the attitude as well as the jacket off. “How far away is the territory?”

“Half a mile. We can’t alert them with the van, so we’ll have to walk the rest of the way”, Noctis explained as he checked his equipment. “We won’t be using torches, either, unless we’re forced into melee-combat.”

“Got it.”

Gladiolus reached for a pair of night vision goggles next to Prompto, but the freckled scout was quick to snatch them out of his hand.

“Woah there, big guy! This baby is off-limits.” He dropped an ordinary pair in the tattooed man’s open palm. “This one was specifically made for me. It’s far superior to the ones I lost during the raid.”

“Oh yeah? What’s so special about them?” Gladiolus humoured the younger man in hopes of dissolving some of the tension between himself and Noctis.

“Cindy made them”, Noctis stated matter-of-factly as he got out of the van. He let Umbra out and handed the potion satchel to Gladiolus.

They trekked in silence through the darkness. Umbra had taken point, his ears moving in every direction as he listened for any sounds of danger. Once they reached the forest edge, they slowed down and quietly crept past the tall pine trees. The air was crisp and slightly chilly. Noctis could hear faint chirping from high up and a persistent knocking as a woodpecker worked on a new home. As long as the birds weren’t alarmed, they could rest easy.

Umbra suddenly halted. Noctis signalled for Gladio and Prompto to stop and knelt down next to the dog. The canine’s posture remained relaxed even as his ears were pointed forward in alert. His mouth opened to pant. Noctis recognised the sign – no danger. Then why did he stop?

Prompto noticed a familiar landmark and patted Noctis’ shoulder to gain his attention. “We’ve reached the territory.”

Gladio peered into the darkness through the goggles, but couldn’t see any movement besides the flickering of the green hued image of his night vision. “I don’t see any daemons.”

Noctis ushered Umbra forward. They sidestepped fallen dry branches and walked deeper into the woods. Setting his nose on the forest ground, Umbra followed the scents to a previously discovered daemon nest.

“I think I see something”, Prompto whispered.

Noctis didn’t need the aid of the night vision to find what Prompto was referring to. The buzzing of flies and a foul smell led him to a pile of daemon manure. Next to it laid cleaned bones of a spiracorn. “They’ve been here recently.”

“Yeah.” Gladio swatted away a persistent fly that was eager to make a home in his ear. “Question is: where are they now?”

“Out hunting, maybe?” Prompto suggested.

“Not so sure.” Noctis moved the pile of bones with the tip of his boot. “The evidence suggests they’ve just eaten. There has to be some kind of den nearby.”

Gladio scanned his surroundings for any clues. “What kind of daemons did you find here before?”

“Mostly goblins and imps; the small ones that like thick vegetation”, Prompto replied. “They tend to be scattered, though. We should’ve seen at least one by now.”

Something was off. Had the daemons moved to find new hunting grounds or had they been chased away? The forest felt too empty. “Let’s move on.” Noctis rose and quietly ordered Umbra to resume the search. “We’re bound to run into them sooner or later.”

The ground softened as they continued further. The sponge-like moss silenced even Gladio’s heavy footsteps.

Umbra stiffened, his ears turning to every direction as he listened. He sniffed the air and turned to point towards their left.

“What is it?” Noctis asked. He peered into the darkness, but couldn’t distinguish anything out of ordinary.

Prompto sharply inhaled. His more advanced goggles must’ve picked on whatever had given Umbra a pause.

“What?” Gladio hissed impatiently.

Prompto licked his lips nervously and swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple popping. “I think there’s a body hanging between those two trees.”

Deeming it safe enough to switch a torch on, Noctis alerted his companions to remove the goggles to shield their vision from the sudden light. Sure enough the shaft of his torchlight revealed a small humanoid figure hanging limply in the air. On closer inspection they realised it was a goblin corpse cocooned in gossamer that hung from a large thinly weaved web.

“What happened here?” Prompto breathed.

Gladio’s tone was gruff as he eyed the unfortunate victim. “Survival of the fittest.”

“An arachne moved in and claimed the territory”, Noctis guessed. “The daemon activity the MTs took notice of was the goblins and imps leaving to find a new place to stay.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Prompto nervously fingered the straps of his Auto Crossbow. “I mean, now we have less daemons to worry about!”

Gladio grimaced and crossed his tattooed arms. “In the best case scenario we have only one arachne to worry about, but it’s highly likely that it has already laid its eggs. Soon we’ll have a whole brood of ugly spider-ladies crawling about. In the worst case scenario the goblins and imps will make a new home closer to the fort and we’ll end up having to deal with both daemon packs.”

Prompto’s optimism dimmed immediately. “Oh. That doesn’t sound good. So what do we do now?”

Noctis peered around. “We find the nest and burn it before the arachne spawns more of its kind. Aranea can deal with the small fry.”

The further they continued, the more they saw webbing covering trees and blocking the way forward. Noctis cut a path with his Engine Blade through the sticky-threaded patterns. Umbra’s nose caught a foul smell and led the trio to a dank cave. The putrid stench was even worse inside. Several half-eaten goblin corpses littered the entrance and covered the soft forest floor in fresh black blood. Flies buzzed and laid eggs on the carcasses. The decaying bodies bustled with activity as countless larvae made quick work of the daemons. Noctis wrinkled his nose in disgust. It would appear bugs made no distinction between man, beast or daemon.

He motioned his companions to stop. “Put your night vision on.” He purposely kept his torchlight on; the goggles distorted the images enough to spare Prompto from the gross sight. He was glad Little Luna had stayed behind. While she might’ve not minded – just as she had barely reacted when he had shot a chocobo right next to her – he still felt the need to protect her from life’s ugly truths, even if it may have been too late for her. She had most likely spent the past decade with nothing but her own adult self’s corpse for company. That ought to have messed with her head more than nature’s course ever could.

Noctis switched off the torchlight as they entered the surprisingly cramped cave. It could’ve easily been a lone coeurl’s den were it not for the thick webbing that covered the rocky surface. There were no signs of their target. No cocoons, no eggs-sacs, nothing.

“This can’t be right”, he muttered.

“Let’s do a thorough sweep. It might be hiding somewhere if it heard us coming”, Gladio proposed.

Umbra’s paws got stuck in the sticky gauze. With a revving of the sword’s engine, Noctis cut him free. “Wait outside and make sure we don’t get ambushed from the rear, okay?” The canine gladly made his way back, not appearing to be bothered by the stench of death and decay. As much as Noctis wanted to rely on Umbra’s superior senses, he didn’t like bringing him to places that were clearly not meant for his kind. Still, the dog remained loyal and refused to back down from challenges. The Belouve mines had proved as much.

Prompto slapped a hanging silken thread from his face. “We could just toss a firaga flask and call it a day.”

Gladio removed the greatsword from his back and tested the webbed cave-walls with it for any hidden passageways. “If the arachne isn’t here, it wouldn’t do us any good. It’d just find a new place to lay its eggs.”

“I guess.”

Noctis’ boot sank as he stepped on a thick patch of webbing, the ground seeming to stretch under his weight. He made to jump out of the unstable area, but his boots were as if glued, and he only ended up sinking further down.

“Guys-!”

“Noct!” Gladio rushed to his side.

♫

The net broke and he fell to a hidden room. His landing was softened by dozens of cocooned egg-sacs that were smashed under his weight with a wet squelch. He hurriedly sat up, his hands fumbling for the hilt of the Engine Blade. An unsettling thrumming coming from above made his skin crawl. He froze and held his breath.

He could hear the gaping mouths of its patellae chittering in anticipation. Very slowly, Noctis turned his head and saw the giant arachne glide down from its webbed nest with ease. It was close enough that he could see each thick spike-like hair on its curved spider-legs. Another mouth, that was located just beneath where the feminine humanoid torso began, gnashed hungrily. A bright red forked tongue slipped past its sharp fangs and tasted the air as if trying to pinpoint where its prey was hidden. The female torso attached to the spider-body turned around, its dark pink eyeballs scanning the nest for the intruder.

Another egg shattered under his weight. The arachne sharply turned towards the noise. More forked tongues stuck out from the patellae-mouths. It slowly crept towards him, clawed hands reaching blindly in front of it. Short high-pitched hiccup-like yips and squeals bubbled in the back of its throat.

Cold sweat trailed down his back as his clammy hands felt around for the Engine Blade. His shallow breathing was uncomfortably loud in his ears. The arachne picked its speed when it saw the faint movement and heard the rustling of his clothes against the broken egg-sacs. He briefly wondered if the daemon could smell fear as panic threatened to take hold of him and dull his rational thought.

Air rushed past Noctis as the clawed hand extended to grope at his face, twitching with inhuman motion and speed. It was like being stuck in a horror movie. More egg-sacs were smashed as he retreated away from the daemon. Only when his back hit the hard rock wall, did the panic subside enough to remind him of the sniper rifle that strapped to his back. Quickly he removed it and aimed.

The arachne was faster.

It swiped at his face and sent the night vision goggles flying from his head. The muzzle flash of his rifle illuminated the cave like a strobe light, momentarily displaying the arachne’s bloated body in all its disgusting glory. The bullet missed its mark. Something wet fell heavily to the cave floor and broke open. A chorus of chirping and clicking of chelicerae grew in volume. The arachne matron cackled gleefully as its thick, curved legs jabbed at the ground around him. He rolled out of harm’s way, sticky web clinging to his hunter’s uniform in the process. Too dizzy to get back on his feet unaided, he hurriedly crawled on all fours to get some distance to the daemon. Noctis nearly cut himself when his hand bumped the blade of his sword.

Using the Engine Blade as a crutch, he staggered on his feet and slashed blindly around him.

The daemon shrieked in displeasure. More wet squelches alarmed him to hatching eggs. Tiny arachnae that had yet to develop humanoid torsos swarmed his booted feet. Disgusted, he kicked away the spiders and hurriedly switched on his torchlight. The matron let out a guttural hiss and backed away from the blinding light.

For every wave of arachnelings he slashed, another egg-sac would hatch, renewing the threat. His sword-arm grew tired from the relentless exercise; he had to get out of here, but the only way was up. Gladio and Prompto hadn’t attempted to follow him down, thankfully, but they didn’t appear to be making efforts to help him out of the hell-hole, either. They must’ve been swarmed as well.

Noctis turned his attention to the matron and its angrily snapping patellae-mouths’ jaws. It was his only way out. He side-stepped and killed the arachnelings that attempted to overwhelm him. Hurriedly he sheathed his sword and took aim. The bullet flew right past the humanoid female face. The arachne matron reared back in surprise, its front spider-legs swiping at air in bewilderment. Not wasting his momentum, Noctis jumped on the daemon’s back and held on to its spiked hairpiece to avoid getting in range of its clawed hands.

The arachne thrashed around and rolled on the ground, but Noctis’ grip held. With an outraged screech, the daemon jumped out of the underground nest. Deeming it time to abandon ship, Noctis removed his other hand from the hairpiece and took hold of his sword to stab the disgusting creature’s spine. Finally the matron collapsed, its spider-legs twitching and patellae-mouths gnashing. Mustering what remaining strength he had left, Noctis beheaded the humanoid torso and impaled the arachnid lower body. Black blood splattered to his clothes and face as he removed his stained blade from the twitching corpse.

Stumbling off the daemon’s back, he paused to listen and assess the situation. A stampede of tiny insect-feet scraped the rocky wall as the arachnelings emerged from the hidden underground nest, their chelicerae clicking angrily in vengeance.

“Noct!” Prompto’s frantic cry forced his attention to his best friend.

The sight of Gladiolus lying motionless on the ground was enough to make his blood run cold. Prompto was firing his Auto Crossbow left and right, rapidly downing the overwhelming numbers of arachnelings. However he wouldn’t be able to last long – the machine was threatening to seize up if the shaking and sputtering was anything to go by. Vapor poured out of the welded joints and fogged Prompto's goggles.

“Prompto, take Gladio and get out of here. I’m burning this place down!” Noctis took out the magic flask Prompto had given him the day they had been harvesting elemental energy. It felt warm in his gloveless hand. He moved between the daemons and Prompto to cover his retreat.

When his friends were at a safe distance, Noctis backed away and threw the crystal flask. It exploded in brilliant magical flames. The shockwave sent him flying backwards, the intense heat threatening to scorch his beard and eyebrows. The flames caught the thin webbing that hung to his clothes. Panicked, he rolled violently among the larvae-infested goblin corpses in an attempt to put out the blaze, the bodies and dry lichen surrounding him inadvertently catching fire. Prompto hurried to his side and helped Noctis smother the flames.

Noctis shakily stood up with Prompto’s help and glanced down. His burnt vest was tattered beyond repair. The stench of burning corpses, manure, and vegetation hung heavily in the air.

“Here. Take this”, Prompto quietly said and offered him a potion bottle with shaking hands. Noctis quickly downed the medicine.

“What happened to Gladio?”

“I don’t know. One moment he was protecting me from the spiderlings, the next he collapsed and didn’t get up. I gave him a remedy and an elixir, but nothing’s helping.” Prompto wiped his sweaty brow and fidgeted, his body trembling from the adrenaline that insisted him to fight or flee. Noctis suspected it was thanks to the hormone that the svelte man had been able to carry their heavy-built friend to safety.

“We need to get him back to base. Help me carry him.” He took hold of the muscular man’s arms while Prompto lifted his legs. “Umbra, lead us back to the van, double time.”

♫

The gates had been left open for them. Noctis wasted no time driving past the MTs and parking in front of the entrance to the underground levels. Medical staff rushed to move Gladio’s still body from the backseat to a stretcher. The two scouts ran after the medics, worry lightening their steps to the point it felt like they were gliding across the long hallway to the emergency room. Startled civilians moved out of their way. Noctis didn’t even notice when Umbra skidded to a stop and ran off in the opposite direction.

Noctis and Prompto stopped in front of a large glass window. From behind it they witnessed the doctor examine Gladiolus’ unclothed body while nurses monitored his vitals through computer screens.

“How’s he doing?” They turned to see Aranea approach them, with Ignis and Iris not far behind.

Noctis ran his hand through damp bangs. “No word yet. We have no idea what caused him to collapse.”

Iris refused to acknowledge him and lifted a calloused hand to the glass, hazel eyes glued to her brother’s still form. She must be so mad at him for letting this happen to her only family. If he had been more careful, he wouldn’t have been separated from his companions and could’ve covered the bodyguard’s back. Or if he hadn’t asked Gladio to take off his jacket, he might’ve been protected. Noctis stopped when recalled Cor’s words; what ifs and buts would do him little good. This was the reality he had to deal with.

Ignis’ nostrils flared when the stench of burnt cloth carried from where Noctis was standing to his sensitive nose. “Are either of you hurt? We should have you examined, just in case.”

“I’m fine. We’re fine.” Noctis turned his back to the blind brunet and anxiously watched the medical staff inject something in Gladio’s veins.

Aranea wasn’t having any of that. “Specs is right. You could have a serious wound needing medical attention and you wouldn’t even notice it thanks to all that adrenaline pumping in your veins.” She gently put her hands on Prompto’s freckled shoulders and guided him away from the window. “C’mon. He’s not going anywhere. We’ll let you know the moment anything changes.”

Noctis clenched his jaw in defiance, his hands involuntarily clenching into tight fists. “I said I’m fine. I need to be at his side.”

“Noct, there’s nothing you can do for him right now. You can return as soon as you’ve been examined.”

He ignored his former advisor.

“You should go.” Iris’ quiet voice immediately grabbed his attention. She refused to face him and opted to keep her hard gaze firmly on the happenings of the emergency room. “You’ve caused enough problems.”

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Iris…”

Eyes burning with anger and resentment, she sharply turned to him and pointed to the exit. “Leave. Now!”

He held her gaze for a few seconds, but deemed it best to follow her wishes. “Fine.”

After the examinations, they were summoned to the infirmary. Gladio had been moved to a room the patients liked to refer to as ‘solitary confinement’ which was meant for cases with contagious diseases. Noctis noted Iris was absent, presumably to avoid him and disturbing the other patients. Ignis let the two hunters inside.

Several lamps with bright blue lights had been set around the bed to point towards the unconscious man. He was clothed in a faded hospital gown that appeared to be few sizes too small.

“So, what’s wrong with him? Why’s he held here?”

Ignis moved next to Gladio, his gloved hand fumbling as he searched for the edge of the covers. He lifted it enough for them to see. The bodyguard’s left breast, shoulder and armpit were covered in black substance. On closer inspection Noctis realised the pulsing liquid was faintly moving, almost as if attempting to hide from the burning hallowed light.

“Is that daemon blood?” Prompto hesitantly asked and instinctively backed away.

Ignis silently shook his head, the muscles around his neck tightening as he fought to keep his voice stable. “Starscourge. He is infected.”

Noctis’ breathing dwindled to shallow gasps to the point his lungs couldn’t get the oxygen they needed. He felt light-headed and stumbled backwards, hitting his shoulder against the white stone wall in the process. Prompto was at his side in an instant and helped him stay upright.

“Y-you’re joking, right? I didn’t get infected and I was there right next to him!” the blonde hunter babbled.

Denying the obvious was futile. Noctis had to know if there was anything he could do for his sworn shield. “How long-?” he managed between gasps.

“The lights are slowing the plague from entirely taking him over, but it is only a matter of time before he loses the fight and turns into a daemon.”

Noctis let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. This was all his fault. “Does Iris know?”

“Yes. She said she needed some space.”

During their conversation the plague had spread further down his arm and up his neck. The light slowed its advance, but Noctis doubted Gladio had more than two hours before the transformation was complete.

He eyed the IV that pumped fluids into his friend’s bloodstream. “What did the medics inject him with earlier?”

“I’m presuming the daemons you encountered were poisonous. The wound that’s hidden under the plague was festering and needed treatment, while the intravenous therapy is merely to correct the dehydration caused by perspiration.” Ignis let go of the covers and headed towards the door. “It is all we could do for him. Now we can only make his last hours as comfortable as possible and prepare for the worst.”

Noctis found Iris skulking outside the medical staff’s office with her ear pressed against door.

“What are you doing?”

She lifted her finger to her lips to signal silence and continued to eavesdrop. He could hear Aranea talking.

“So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing we can do to prevent the transformation?”

“If we could, we would’ve never needed an Oracle.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious. Now let’s stop wasting time and cut to the chase. How do we deal with him?”

“He is an Amicitia, is he not? The King’s Shield deserves a clean death. We could give him a drug overdose. He would die in his sleep peacefully.”

Iris covered her mouth to muffle the gasp, her wide eyes welling with tears. She stood up and hurried off. Noctis followed.

“Iris, wait.”

Abruptly she turned on her heel to face him. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. Tears glimmered between her dark lashes and served to only further irritate her bloodshot eyes. She quickly wiped her clogged nose with a dirty sleeve. Her voice cracked as she attempted to talk through the lump in her throat. “They want to kill my brother like common cattle. He deserves better than that!”

Biting her swollen lower lip, she squeezed her teary eyes shut as a sob shook her slight frame. She didn’t resist when Noctis’ warm arms wrapped around her in a loose embrace and buried her runny nose in the crook of his neck while he stroked her back. She breathed through her mouth and sniffled in an attempt to spare the collar of his shirt.

He was at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t fix the situation, but he had to support Iris somehow just as she had been there for him in his darkest moments. Returning the favour was the least he could do. “Iris, tell me what you want me to do.”

She drew a shaky breath and slowly exhaled in an attempt to gain a measure of composure. “Help me say goodbye to him.”

They entered Gladio’s room. A machine hooked to his body beeped steadily to his calm heartbeat. A lone nurse was monitoring his vitals.

One glance at Iris’ puffy eyes was enough to make Noctis take the initiative. “Excuse me, could we have a moment alone with him?”

The nurse nodded her consent and left the pair alone.

“I hate anything remotely resembling a hospital. It’s so cold and sterile in here”, Iris mumbled and rubbed her gooseflesh covered arms.

Even with the covers hiding most of Gladio’s body, they could see the black substance had spread far enough to cover most of his tattooed torso and scarred face. His blanket and hospital gown weren’t spared from the plague’s influence, either; the cloth was wet and thin and looked like it was ready to fall apart from where the black substance had seeped into it.

“Gladdy”, she hoarsely whispered and sat down next to him on the bed. Without any regard to her own safety, she tossed the covers aside to expose rest of his infected torso to the hallowed lights and took hold of his large, rapidly cooling hand.

“Iris, be careful or you might get infected, too.”

She said nothing, but her silence spoke volumes: she didn’t care. Her only family was being taken from her and the love of her life had rejected her. In mere twenty-four hours her life had turned on its head. Absently she caressed the plague-ridden hand, not minding the cold, inky substance that latched onto her hand and squelched between her fingers.

The heart monitor’s beeping quickened pace as the older Amicitia slowly came to. The left eye was entirely hidden under thick, black, twitching matter, but the other one cracked open to reveal a warm hazel eye that struggled to focus on his surroundings.

“Gladdy?”

The large fingers interlaced with her delicate ones and squeezed reassuringly.

They could see the plague had clogged his mouth and throat, but Gladio was determined to respond to her. “Good… t’ see… you, baby… sis-” He violently coughed as more rotten substance forced its way down to his lungs.

She gave him a watery smile and sniffled. “I’m here for you, Gladdy.”

He managed a weak, lopsided grin, before the lack of oxygen forced him back to unconsciousness. The hand in Iris’ grasp slackened. With a raspy sob, she lowered herself to hug her brother’s still body and quietly wept. The plague didn’t waste any time latching onto her shaking figure and weakly binding the two Amicitias together.

Noctis felt like someone was tightly holding his heart in a persistent grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He hadn’t had the chance to talk things through. He couldn’t allow his bodyguard leave this world without reconciling.

He shook the tattooed man’s uninfected side. “Gladio! No. No-no-no. You gotta wake up!”

The black webbing coated the rest of Gladio’s head and spread to his pillow and mattress. The pattern of the effervescent substance on the cushion reminded Noctis of the bloodstain and bits of brain matter that had splattered on the cave wall when he had shot the chocobo. Faint gurgling sound came from between the dying man’s parted lips as the plague fully clogged his trachea. He silently hoped his friend would be choked to death and that way sparing Iris from having to witness the people she trusted snuffing out her brother’s life.

Noctis let go of Gladio’s shoulder when the Starscourge threatened to reach his fingertips. Tears blurred his vision to the point he couldn’t distinguish his friend’s features anymore underneath the plague. He backed away to rest his back against the wall and covered his face to hide the tears. His legs gave out and he slowly fell to his knees.

♫

Noctis barely heard the door creak as someone entered the room. Umbra hurried to his side and pressed his wet snout against the hunter’s cheek. The dog pawed at his shirt to get his attention, but Noctis merely patted Umbra on the head and continued to stare apathetically in front of him without really seeing anything.

The quiet sound of dripping pulled his attention to Gladio’s bed. He sharply inhaled when he noticed that the plague was no longer spreading, but moving back towards its source. Over the wound rested a small pale hand. Little Luna stood next to the bed, her lips stretched to a thin line and her brows creased in concentration.

“Luna?”

Iris lifted her head from Gladio’s chest and gasped when she saw a faint flicker of movement in the still air. Slowly, as if witnessing the sunrise casting its first light over something previously hidden, she could make out a vague, ghostly figure of a small girl. She blinked and rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. The unfocused image sharpened and Iris could clearly see the girl in a white dress standing next to her, absorbing the plague.

Gradually the thick black webbing crawled away from Gladio’s tattooed skin and stained cotton. The substance made its way up the little girl’s arm and merged with her pale skin. Iris watched in mute fascination as the plague latched to her arm did the same. The wound on Gladio’s shoulder pushed out the remains of the black puss before closing and healing on its own.

Noctis’ eyes shone with gratitude and admiration as he watched the miracle unfold. Gladio would live!

Suddenly Little Luna stiffened and convulsed. Excess plague leaked out of her nostrils and mouth, staining her pale chin black. Panicked, Noctis hurried to her side and knelt down in front of her. More black blood spilled from the seams of her face and trickled down her neck. Her glassy eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed to his waiting arms.

“Luna!” He shook her and caressed a bloodied cheek, but she remained motionless. Noctis carried her to his dorm and left Iris to welcome Gladio back to the world of living. They would talk things through later.

Prompto sat in his usual spot on the top bunk, cradling his camera as he went through pictures of their great journey together. He could hardly believe they would lose a vital member of their former Crownsguard. As much as he wanted to be there for the gruff yet warm man, he couldn’t bear to see his friend in such a state. He preferred remembering Gladiolus as he was in their photos: healthy and full of life.

He blew his nose on a tissue and grimaced. His nose was red and raw from constant contact with paper, but he couldn’t stop the snot or tears. Without warning the door burst open nearly causing Prompto to tumble from his perch. The blond man watched Noctis rush in, eyes wide in fear as he set Little Luna down on his bed.

“Noct-?” Words died in Prompto’s mouth when he saw the condition she was in. “Oh no. Has she been infected, too?” He couldn’t lose another friend to the Starscourge so soon.

“No. She purged the plague from Gladio and Iris… I don’t know what’s happening to her.”

“Hold on.” Prompto uncorked a potion bottle and set it between Little Luna’s parted lips. Noctis held her nose to make sure she would swallow the healing liquid.

Instead of the desired effect, she began to splutter and choke. Noctis let go of her nose and pushed the potion bottle aside. He saw the liquid sizzle in her mouth as it touched the corruption. Little Luna coughed violently, drops of black blood flying everywhere and staining his sheets. He was instantly reminded of their notebook and the black drops that marred her last entry. Was this the reason?

Laboriously she sat up and attempted to climb out of the bed, but ended up sprawled on the floor. Supporting herself on trembling arms, shuddering and heaving, she vomited more black substance. Noctis moved his hand on her back in soothing circles. Her arms gave out and she lost her balance, her slack body hitting the stained carpet. Gently Noctis turned her around and pulled her head to rest in his lap. He wiped her blackened chin with a sleeve and brushed the damp bangs from her listless eyes.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he quietly asked. Little Luna shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as another violent cough wrecked her tiny frame. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep few black drops from spilling and staining his face and clothes. Noctis clasped her small hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

Just when he thought she wouldn’t be able to take much more, the inky substance began to move. As if pulled by an invisible force, it inched towards the seams of her face and disappeared between the barely noticeable cracks. Even the drops on his face fell and were sucked in.

Once all of the foul matter had disappeared, she opened her eyes and smiled weakly at him. He choked on a relieved laugh. She was fine. Gladio and Iris were fine.

He leant down to press his lips on her temple in a lingering, heartfelt kiss. “I don’t know how you did it, but you saved them. Thank you.”

He watched the focus dull from Little Luna’s eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed her. With utmost care, Noctis lifted her back in his bed and pulled the covers to her chin. A soft, warm smile tugged at his lips as he sat down next to her and stroked her golden head.

♫

A knock on the door alerted the men to a visitor. They exchanged glances. Noctis shrugged.

“It’s open!” Prompto called.

Iris stepped inside visibly disoriented as she struggled to process everything that had happened. Her gaze fell to the still figure of a pale girl resting in Noctis’ bunk.

“Is she okay?”

Prompto did a double take. “W-wait a minute. You can see her?”

Iris haltingly nodded and sat down next to Noctis.

“But how? You never saw her before even when she was right in front of you.” Noctis watched in disbelief as Iris reached out to tentatively touch the cool cardboard-like skin of Little Luna’s arm.

“I don’t know. She sort of appeared out of thin air. At first she was nothing more than a vague figure, but when I concentrated she seemed to turn solid.” Other than the nearly imperceptible twitch of her lips, Little Luna remained dead to the world even as Iris’ hand reached down to hold the girl’s small hand. “Thank you for saving my brother.” Noctis gazed at Little Luna in quiet satisfaction. Despite the blank, blue eyes staring unblinkingly into space, he had a feeling she was going to be all right.

Iris let go of the hand and turned to address the dark-haired hunter. “Noct, I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand why you couldn’t return my feelings”, she dropped her eyes to her fidgeting hands. “And honestly, I blamed you for using me and causing harm to Gladdy. There’s so much I still don’t understand, but now I realise you were telling me the truth.”

“You had the right to it. What happened to Gladio was entirely my fault.” He sighed and rubbed his face, fatigue from hours of relying on adrenaline to keep him going starting to weigh down on him. “If I had been less irresponsible and paid attention to the people around me, he wouldn’t have insisted on joining me and Prompto and none of this would’ve happened.”

A small smile curved Iris’ pink lips as she shook her head. “If he hadn’t joined you, neither you nor Prompto would have returned home. If there’s one thing my brother is good at, it’s keeping you out of harm’s way.” She grinned and poked his chest.

Noctis chuckled. “You might be onto something.”

The tension left Iris’ slim shoulders and she shifted to a more comfortable position. “The nurse told me Gladdy’s recovering well. No sign of Starscourge anywhere, even the blankets were spared! His vitals are good and they were considering moving him to the infirmary tomorrow. Would you mind if I took the radio to him?”

“Not at all. You bought it.”

“Great!” Iris reached for the handheld radio on the nightstand, but paused and gasped when something grabbed her attention. “Where did you get these? How long have you had them?” She delicately touched the vibrant blue petals of a sylleblossom.

Noctis had already forgotten about the flowers. “Luna brought them to me some time ago. I think they’re like her, only certain people seem to be able to see them.”

“What makes a person see her? Have you two always seen her?”

Prompto shrugged. “I saw her when she got out of the van with Noct and Umbra. Didn’t realise nobody else could until Aranea pretty much ignored and looked through her. I’ve tried to capture her on camera a few times, but that never worked.”

“We don’t know what caused her to become visible to you or us for that matter.”

Iris scratched her head in thought. “Have you ever asked her?”

A slight grimace soured Prompto’s freckled features. “She doesn’t really talk.”

“Why not?”

Noctis leant over Little Luna and carefully slid a finger between her chapped lips. “I’m planning on asking her, but I think I have an inkling to why she can’t.” He parted her lips open and peered into her mouth. As expected, he couldn’t see anything – not even teeth or a tongue – but thick, black oil-like substance. He wasn’t sure what to make out of this newfound information. “She’s mute”, he concluded.

“I see.” She took the handheld radio and stood up. “It’s been a rough day, huh.”

“You can say that again.”

“But I’m glad we can now put this behind us. Be sure to visit Gladdy when you’re able!” She was about to turn the handle of the door and leave, when Noctis’ voice cut her off.

“How are you going to tell Gladio about his miraculous recovery?”

Iris smiled faintly. “By telling the truth.”

♫

Noctis woke up to Little Luna stirring in his arms. Her glassy eyes were wide open as she took in her surroundings. He could tell she was about to do another disappearing stunt when she realised she couldn’t escape his hold.

“Do you always leave me hanging, little minx? I recall you promising not to disappear on me.”

Startled, she looked up to his kind blue eyes. Guiltily she shook her head.

“Relax. No need to be so jumpy.” He lightly stroked her bare shoulder with his thumb, but she didn’t appear any calmer. “If you’re worried about me finding about your little secret, you can rest easy.”

Confusion and worry altered on her expressive face.

“I didn’t rip your mask off or anything like that, if that’s what you’re fretting over. I promised not to, after all.” Some of the tension faded from her stiff shoulders and she allowed herself to lean into his tender embrace. “But I might have peeked inside your mouth.”

Instinctively she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips to a thin line. He now knew it was to keep the black blood – or whatever it was – from coming out of her mouth. Had her insides always been coated in it?

“I’m guessing it’s the Starscourge, since you seemed to be able to somehow absorb it from Gladio and Iris. One could come to the conclusion that you’re a daemon-” She shook her head vehemently in denial. “-But that wouldn’t make much sense considering you’re constantly in contact with the hallowed lights and don’t appear affected by them.” Rigidly she lay against him and waited for his judgement.

“So, the question is: what are you?”

He hadn’t expected an answer and was pleasantly surprised when she lifted her left hand to show him the scar on her ring-finger. I am Luna, she seemed to be saying. And he believed her.

But that didn’t answer his question. He had to think of something else that she could answer.

“Were you down in the mines with me a week ago?”

She glanced up at him, confusion written all over her face as she shook her head.

He might as well make sure he had the full picture while she was willing to indulge his curiosity. “Are there more Lunas other than you and the one in the morgue?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled in good humour from a suppressed smile. Again, she shook her head and relaxed in his arms. She must’ve thought him crazy.

He breathed out in relief. It had been just a vivid hallucination. Everything he had gone through in the mines had been created in his messed up head – or at least partially. He still couldn’t quite distinguish what had been real and what made up. She hadn’t pulled his heart out of his chest, that much was certain, and it appeared he hadn’t hurt her either. He felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders and that his conscience was slightly less tainted.

Little Luna’s skinny arms wrapped around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder and held him tightly. The unexpected show of intimacy caught him off-guard, but he happily returned the gesture nonetheless. He had a feeling it was her way of thanking him. He wasn’t sure for what, though. For accepting her despite the lack of oral hygiene? His lips twitched with dry humour. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and allowed her close proximity to lull him back to a blissfully dreamless sleep.

♫

The line to the mess hall was moving unusually slowly – something about visitors from Leide disrupting the carefully planned schedules according to Prompto. Not that Noctis minded too much. He wasn’t exactly starving to death, but he had hoped to bring Gladio some proper food. Who was he kidding? Iris more than likely already had that covered. He merely wanted to do something nice for his bodyguard to lessen the inevitable awkwardness.

A loud stage-whisper caught his attention. Little Luna stood outside the hall next to Umbra whose notebook holster had been replaced with a package.

He nudged Prompto’s side. “Be right back.”

The way Little Luna covertly checked if the coast was clear before presenting the box made him think of a shady drug dealer. The silly mental image made his lips twitch from a suppressed grin.

“What’s this?”

Curious, he lifted the lid of the box and was greeted by the alluring scent of freshly baked goods. It was an ulwaat berry tart, the dish he had fallen in love with during his stay in Tenebrae. He could tell it wasn’t quite the same as the ones he had enjoyed as a child, which was most likely due to lack of required ingredients. The trade wasn’t what it used to be and fresh bread was unheard of outside Lestallum and Altissia. But its lack of authenticity hardly mattered when the tart was fresh and made his mouth water. Next to it was a note.

‘Give my regards to master Amicitia.

PS. I might have had to borrow your gil, for I believe supporting the local industries is essential.’

Noctis snorted. Nobody would’ve noticed if she stole a single pastry from a busy bakery, yet she couldn’t bring herself to steal even with the obvious advantages at her disposal.

“You should come with us and give it to him yourself. If nothing else, it’d be funny to see his reaction to a floating box. It’s not like he doesn’t know of your existence.”

Little Luna placed her hands on her hips and glared at him in disapproval. He held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. No frightening recovering patients, I get it.” She nodded importantly in agreement. “But you can’t deny you’ve thought about it once or twice. I know you better than you think.”

Glassy eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment. A hearty laugh rumbled in his chest.

“I knew it. C’mon, let’s take this to Gladio.”

A passing hunter gave him a funny look before turning to nudge his friend’s side, but Noctis paid them no mind. He had less than a week before Luna’s funeral and wasn’t about to let anything ruin his final days with her.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

“Hey, we came as fast as we could”, Prompto protested and set down the tray piled with food in the recovering man’s lap for emphasis. “Can’t have a comeback party without goodies.”

The IV had been removed from Gladio’s arm. Iris had sewn him a temporary hospital gown that looked far more comfortable than what he had previously worn. His long, brown hair looked like it had been recently washed. He must’ve been to the showers with some extra help, but couldn’t stay out of bed for extended periods of time. She had also brought him several spare pillows to make his stay as comfortable as possible. Other than the obvious fatigue from the recent trials, he appeared to be healthy as a spiracorn.

Noctis’ voice was quiet as he clasped the older man’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you.” He blinked away the tears that threatened to well in his eyes. He was determined not to make this into another emotionally draining ordeal. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

There was no hint of resentment in his warm hazel eyes as Gladio’s large hand reached up to clasp his liege’s. “Glad to see you’ve got your head sorted out. Iris told me everything.” He turned his attention to the little girl hiding behind the dark-haired scout. “Who’s this?”

“There’s someone I want to introduce to you.” Noctis grinned and gently ushered her forward, his arms warm and reassuring around her small frame. “Meet Luna.”

Gladio gaped at her in disbelief before embarrassedly admitting: “When Iris told me Lady Lunafreya’s mute ghost healed me, I kinda expected her to look older than that.”

Noctis awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another while Little Luna’s gaze fell to stare at her toes. “Yeah, uh, I can’t really explain that. I don’t think it’s something she chose.”

Prompto shamelessly stole a biscuit from Gladio’s tray and munched on it thoughtfully as he voiced what all three of them had been thinking. “So, how come only we can see her?”

Gladio studied the pale girl, taking note of her unfocused, pupilless eyes and her slightly, well, dead appearance for lack of better word. It unnerved him to see Noctis so easily holding her like she was some prized porcelain doll. He suspected the former monarch had spent too much time with the dead to realise how abnormal and absurd the whole situation was. You don’t just casually hold your deceased lover’s animated corpse in your arms like that, no matter how alive it appeared to be. “Is it because we’ve all been healed by her?”

Prompto ignored the tattooed man’s disapproving glare as he spoke with his mouth full of food. “She never healed me. Besides Noct could see her before she healed him.”

“Actually”, Noctis cut in. “The first time she healed me was in Altissia before she died, but that’s beside the point.”

Gladio contemplatively stroked his beard. “What else do we have exclusively in common?”

Noctis thought of the black substance that coated the inside of Luna’s mouth and the bruises that marred her frail neck. He remembered how the imps hadn’t hesitated attacking her when they caught her in their sights. All of it had to be somehow connected. Then he remembered Iris. “All of us have been in contact with the plague. Iris could see Luna only after she had been infected.”

Prompto uncertainly wriggled his hands in his lap and bit his lip. “So you think I’ve been in contact with it, too? I mean, I’ve never been infected. Not even when I was right next to Gladio when he got infected.”

Noctis tapped his chin and frowned. “Do you think it’s possible you might’ve been in contact with it without getting infected? Weren’t you engineered to become an MT? You might’ve had a brief contact with it in the laboratories.”

Prompto tilted his head and pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, but wouldn’t that mean I’d get infected more easily?”

The dark-haired scout hopelessly shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just throwing out ideas. So far it makes the most sense to me.”

They sat and ate in silence. A cheery Lestallumian melody played from the radio sitting next to Gladio’s bed. While the three hunters had been debating, Little Luna had quietly withdrawn and huddled next to Umbra who obediently sat in the hallway as not to violate the ‘no animals allowed in the infirmary’-regulation. Her fingers combed through the happily panting dog’s shaggy fur. Noctis figured she might’ve felt a little unnerved by all the attention she was receiving lately. She was too used to being ignored and had spent too many years on her own.

Prompto broke the silence. “Y’know, it was kinda nice being back together for that mission. Would’ve been like in the good old days if Ignis had been with us.”

Gladio’s eyes glazed wistfully. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

Noctis noticed Little Luna was looking at him with a funny look on her face. He couldn’t quite decipher what was going inside that enigmatic mind of hers. It was times like these that he realised she really was older than what she appeared to be. It was almost like she was burdened by something he couldn’t understand. She broke the eye contact before he could come to any conclusion.

Returning to the conversation at hand, Noctis nudged his best friend’s side teasingly. “So, you heading to Hammerhead to get away from ‘paw-paw’?”

A faint blush dusted Prompto’s freckled cheeks, but he hid it with an easy grin. “Nah, I called Cindy and we agreed to meet up for the funeral. She got Takka’s kid to cover for her.”

Noctis didn’t miss how Little Luna tensed and tried her best not to appear to be eavesdropping. What a bummer. It must’ve been so strange for her to hear people casually talking about her funeral. He decided then and there that he’d spend the rest of the week making her forget about all the doom and gloom and just enjoy their time together.

Neither Gladio nor Prompto noticed the change in Little Luna’s body language. Then again, Noctis liked to think he had gotten pretty good at it. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could definitely read her emotions like an open book.

Prompto’s happy chatter brought him back from his musings. “Besides, we’re not in that much of a hurry. With Gladio here bedridden, it’s the perfect time to do some catching up and playing cards together like we used to. Might even get Ignis to join us if I practise my kicked puppy impression hard enough.”

Gladio licked the ulwaat berry jam from his fingers and chuckled. “You do realise that won’t work when he’s blind, right?”

“I think he meant he’s gonna try sucking up to Aranea.”

“Hey!” Prompto objected.

“What? That’s what you said.”

“I prefer the term ‘winning her over’.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

♫

He ran like he was late for his dorm-group’s assigned supper. Some people might have called him immature, while others might’ve thought him to be plain insane. Noctis hardly cared when he saw the wide smile lit up Little Luna’s pale features, her shoulder-length hair and white dress dancing in the breeze as they rushed past the denizens of the fort.

He had borrowed a trolley from the garage and used it to push Little Luna around at high speed. She clung to its rails and beamed at him through the curtain of tangled blond locks.

They had spent the last few days together doing silly activities such as this whenever his schedule permitted. Anything worked as long as it kept a smile plastered on her face and brought them memories of their time together in Tenebrae. Their current activity had been inspired by their memory of Luna pushing his wheelchair around the Fenestala manor. Noctis still remembered the shocked and appalled faces of the servants as their dignified princess had thrown her manners out of the window, just to make the sick Lucian boy laugh.

As promised, she hadn’t disappeared on him, not once. Every night she lay in his arms, not really sleeping – he suspected she never did – and kept him safe from the recurring nightmares. He would fall asleep to the comforting weight of her slight body draped over his, her cool hand absently caressing his coarse cheek. Prompto had jokingly asked if he could borrow her when he saw how positively her presence affected the former monarch’s mental well-being. Noctis knew his best friend was still shaken after what had happened to Gladio. To their surprise, the little girl hadn’t hesitated hugging Prompto. It became a habit of hers to hug him every night before retiring to Noctis’ bed. The sight of Little Luna holding Prompto’s middle was heart-warming and only served to remind him how much she cared about all of them, even the ones she had hardly known in her life.

Each morning she followed Umbra around the fort while the two hunters showered and ate. She would even join them in their reconnaissance scouting. While she was never in any real danger, thanks to her ability to disappear at will, Noctis still liked to keep a careful eye on her to make sure no daemons would harm her. Even though he hardly considered these missions something he wanted to share with her, he could tell she was happy to see his everyday life and be a part of it.

Gently he slowed their ride to a stop.

“Better head for the airship landing and make it look like I’m actually doing something with this.”

Little Luna covered her mouth and silently giggled. She always appeared so self-conscious about opening her mouth; he couldn’t help but wonder if she constantly worried about spilling the plague. If that was the case it was most likely just because she didn’t want to disgust him rather than actually fearing about infecting someone.

Something hit the asphalt with a muffled clatter. Little Luna hopped off the trolley and lifted the item for him. It was the wooden Carbuncle. He had forgotten he still carried it in his pocket.

“Y’know, I think this might’ve actually helped. Just a week ago everything was a wreck and look at us now.” He grinned and playfully tickled her cheek with the wooden figurine’s snout.

She half-heartedly swatted his hand away, her wide grin diminishing into a soft, almost bittersweet smile as she nodded in agreement.

His smile faded, a worried frown taking its place. “What’s that look for?”

Little Luna shook her head as if dismissing the matter. Now he was positive something was wrong. His frown deepened. With a faint, teasing grin, she attempted to diffuse the situation by imitated his expression just like she had back with Iris. No frowning. His lips twitched in good humour, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily.

“You might wanna reconsider answering my question. Otherwise I might be inclined to demand you pay back the tart-gil you stole.”

Little Luna feigned shock and slumped her head and narrow shoulders in defeat. Her hand rose and beckoned him to come closer, even as the rest of her remained hunched over. Obediently he knelt in front of her and expectantly looked up to her downcast eyes. Noctis nearly lost his balance when the scrawny girl pounced on him, arms wrapping around his neck and chapped lips brushing against his bearded cheek.

“H-hey!”

She hid her face in the crook of his neck and held him tightly, almost as if expecting something to come and pull her away from him. He reassuringly stroked her back and hair, unsure what caused this sudden – yet very much welcome – display of affection.

When she pulled away, he noted her glassy eyes appeared to be more reflective than normally. It was then that he realised he had never seen her cry. He lifted his hand to her pale cheek and waited with baited breath for the first tear to fall, but nothing happened. Was he imagining things? She leant into his touch and briefly closed her eyes before shyly withdrawing.

Not quite ready to let the moment pass, he leant forward to caress the tip of her nose with his and kissed her cheek. Flustered, she grabbed his hand and pulled him on the trolley.

“What are you-“

He had forgotten how strong she could be.

Something was off.

He felt like something important was missing, something essential. Something that was part of him.

Drowsily he yawned and stretched the kinks from his stiff muscles. As he slowly came to, he realised his bunk felt more spacious than usual. His hand felt around for the familiar chilly body, but found nothing. Panic twisted his insides and his heart skipped a beat as he sat up, hoping she was still nearby. He scanned the room, peeked into Prompto’s bunk and checked under his own bed, but didn’t find even a hair from her golden head to indicate she had been there. Little Luna was gone.

Before he could start thinking about forming a one-man search party, something blue caught his eye and he turned around to find a single sylleblossom placed next to his pillow. He noticed the royal raiment had been placed over the bed’s headboard. Then he remembered.

Tomorrow was her funeral. Tomorrow the illusion would shatter and he would be forced back to bleak reality. He would spend the rest of his life apart from the person he longed to be with the most.

With a faint, bittersweet smile he inhaled the flower’s sweet scent.

All good things come to an end, huh.

#ffxv fanfiction #noctis lucis caelum #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctluna #noctis x luna

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