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metanoiamorii · 3 years

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Wip Re-Introduction: A Rope In Hand

❛Horror is like a serpent; always shedding its skin, always changing. And it will always come back. It can’t be hidden away like the guilty secrets we try to keep in our subconscious.❜

♧ Title: A Rope In Hand [ARIH]

♧ Status: First Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person, flexible between a few

♧ Genre: Dark Fantasy, Supernatural, LGBTQ+, Action, Drama

♧ Warnings: This story revolves around the occult. There will be talk of witch hunts and trials and cults. There will be torture methods used to gain confessions, and these methods will be justified under religious belief. There will be toxic and abusive relationships, particularly family; finding an escape from them, and healing from the trauma. There will be homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, and colonization. There will be major character deaths, but I can spoil after the book ends the main characters do get a happy ending. Each chapter and scene posted will have personalized warnings, but these are the main things to expect.

♧ Featuring: The majority of the characters will be LGBTQ+, from pansexual, homosexual, to asexual; genderfluid, agender/nonbinary, and transgender. Each character is complex and morally grey. Yes, they will do things that are blatantly terrible, or actively good. Overall, they will be morally grey and questionable at best. There will be complex world-building, from both the universe it takes place in, and the religious pantheons brought up. The religions brought up will be polytheistic and animism-themed. The romance between the major characters will be slow-burn enemies to friend to lovers, and them learning to love themselves through one another. There will be an exploration on generational healing, and unlearning toxic, and bias believes.

♧ Setting: The setting is influenced by Victorian London, and Medieval Ireland. There will be mention of other places, primarily western Europe, the Ottoman Empire, Ancient Rome, Eastern Asia, and Napoleonic France.

♧ Synopsis:

In the town of Arkaley, in the northwest of the Duchy of Ruairc, the people have been plagued by bad fortune and crime. Attacks of bandits on the road, raids from pirates on the shores, untimely deaths of children and young women, elected officials coming out corrupt; there is no end in Arkaley of the suffering the locals endure.

Rationally, to explain such a bad string of luck, there is only one possible explanation: Witchcraft.

The Duchy of Ruairc already has a history of witchcraft: the Ó Ruaircs turned out to be witches, the Abondé incident in Salem, the Liathain incident in Trakee; the Ruaircs have their record. Perfectly acceptable for everyone to assume the worse of the Ruairish, as they have proved to be nothing but.

To prove his worth, the young Reverend Prudence Clemency Frye, takes up the task of quelling this coven of witches and heading this witch-hunt. Young and naïve, witch only knowledge from books and little hands-on experience, he’s unprepared for this challenge. When he finally leaves the town, well… everyone would rather put this incident behind them.

♧ Tease:

My darling dear, a knave so clear

You appear, so bravely near;

Do you hear my darling dear, sneers of austere jeers?

Behave, my dear, when I am near;

For peers will lear, in their fear,

Allow me o' dear our persevere

So my fave you appear

And volunteer a slave so dear

in an atmosphere we fear.

my darling dear, wave so clear

Depravely as we leave, and give a souvenir;

My lips to yours, as you crave in these fallin' years.

Be brave darling dear, and give into hearts o' queer.

For mine you be, your darling dear,

To the stars you have swore in love, so crystal clear.

My peers shall sneer, but whore I be, and you I crave

Oh so bare. slurs and glares, just listen to my prayers.

Kiss me love, and leave o'they to a'crave

In this atmosphere that we fear

Their own, o' pure, knave so dear.

♧ Excerpt:

".... This is wrong." Prudence finds the words slipping from his lips, voice a quiet whisper; a breathless tone of voice. He allows his fingertips to falter against scarred skin, watching as Mastema turned his cheek, he pressed himself into the palm of Prudence's hand. Eyes closed, a smile curled on his face. Prudence couldn't help but smile at the scene, but slowly, slowly, slowly, he rescinded his hand; breaking the hold.

"Revered..." Matching his voice, Mastema replied. Maintaining such a soft voice, as he shifted himself forward on the bed. One foot to the ground, the other drawn beneath himself. Over Prudence he leaned, resting one palm to the sheets, the other lifting to seize Prudence's hand before he could recoil back. "You have made me feel something in which I've never felt before..."

From where he laid, Prudence could only form a soft frown. He knew he could draw his hand back, the grip was far from tight. But he didn't. He laid there, allowing Mastema to hold his hand. "... This is wrong, Mastema."

Mastema frowned; he matched the reaction Prudence wore. Through it, he forced a half-smile, tightening his grip on the other's hand, and forward he brought Prudence's hands to kiss the knuckles. "... If this is wrong, I do not wish to be right."

At the response, Prudence shook his head. "It is not for us to be right or wrong, the gods—"

At the angle he sat, Mastema shifted once more. He dropped Prudence's hand, to lean forward; to lean in close. Both of his palms found the other's cheek, as he touched their foreheads to one another. "... Do not force your will onto another." In that soft whisper, he spoke. Eyes closed, breath drawn in. "Is that not a Commandment of our Creator?"

"I..." Prudence faltered. In, he drew his breath, to try to steady himself. "... I did not take you for the religious sorts."

"I'm not." Mastema all too quickly retorted. But as he was, he laid; this proximity. "But you are."

♧ Characters:

The Order of Witchesbane

Prudence Clemency Frye; The Reverend

Half Fae/Half Human • Intersex • Genderfluid • He/They • Homosexual • Homo-demiromantic

The bastard son of Lord Zachariah Frye. Raised by his father, with his mother dying young, he took to following in his footsteps. He became a religious young man and an active witch-hunter. A part of him desires his father’s acceptance, his praises; the other part despises his father and everything the man stands for. In recent years, he has joined the De La Cruz household, becoming an apprentice beneath the famous Witch’s Advocate; upholding the beliefs that not every witch is evil and has foul intentions, and the ones that mean harm are the only ones that should be hunted.

Zachariah Frye; The Bloodhound

Human • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest living member of the Order. Now he is the man that holds the face of the Order, who you think of when they come to mind. Cold. Vindictive. Despotic. Violent. He is not a good man. He is firm in his beliefs and stubborn to change. Once his mind is made up, he cannot be reasoned with. He is blindly convinced of his beliefs and his cause to eradicate every living witch, unfazed if he has to fill a few innocent thousands in the process.

Calisto Ferzan Hermengildo Melchior Lorencio De La Cruz; The Witch’s Advocate

Half Fae/Half Human • Amab • Nonbinary • Genderfluid • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

A witch-hunter in title alone, Calisto has been making enemies since he could first talk. He’s always enjoyed being the underdog, going against the expectations of society, being ridiculed by his peers. The sole reason? Proving them wrong. To ridicule his own peers for their outdated beliefs, he’s taken to defending witches, proving them innocent of their ‘crimes’, and going on to help them to set up a life in a country more accepting of witchcraft

The servant of Calisto, never seen far from his side. He is a servant in name alone and is more-or-less an assassin, a hitman for Calisto. Held in contempt by Athylian society for being a foreigner, he often treated by others more as a slave than a servant. To help be unseen, to help the De La Cruz Household, Michelotto endures the treatment and goes as far to be perceived as ignorant, alongside him being born a mute. Keeping his true intents and intelligence duly guarded, only a handful are aware he is also a witch.

Myk'loumihr [Michelotto Dougal] Siavash; The Man-Servant

Witch; Amab • Agender • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

Austin Duvine; The Lord Without A Ring

Half-Human/Half Fae • Amab • Nonbinary • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

One of the younger members of the order, Austin relies on his father's wealth and name. He doesn't care for responsibilities, he doesn't care for hard work. He's a playboy at heart. He's fit to hold social events, and use his natural talent to gib and fib his way through life. He'll keep his mixed feelings to himself, struggling with doing the right thing or upholding tradition.

Alistair Lavine; The Witchfinder General

Human • Amab • Agender • He/They • Bicurious • Aromantic

The best friend to Zachariah and his right hand. Where Zachariah is business and lacks charms, Alistair can charm a crowd and hold their attention. He knows how to feign being an ideal human, without letting on his own bloodlust; he's a monster in human skin. At the end of the day, unlike Zachariah, Alistair does have morals and standards he will abide by, even if they come back to ruin him.

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The Vakari Coven

Ausrine Baoghal; The Lady

Witch • Female • She/Her • Bisexual • Aromantic

The woman in charge of the town, widowed and inheriting the right to rule as her husband had no heirs. She is a manipulative and dangerous woman, eager to commit any sin or crime for more power. She, in truth, cares only for herself and would feel no remorse if she had to turn on one of her coven to further her own agenda.

The magistrate and also the chief policeman of the town. He maintains a calm, but manipulative personality. As a front, he presents himself to be fair and just, liked and favored by the people for genuinely caring for them. While in truth he has his own heinous and sinister agenda, aiding Ausrine in her plans.

Leary O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate

Witch • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest member of the coven, Dairine lives under the guise of an elderly woman, who lives alone with her children and grandchildren already leaving her to live their own lives. She is a kind and understanding woman and cares for the younger witches in the coven. She will not support Baríon with her agenda, nor does she care for the servant girl, she even despises the so-called ally Ausrine claims to have and who they all adhere to.

Dairine Ó Séaghdha; The Crone

Witch • Afab • Agender • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The acting servant of Barion, Anisha’s true loyalties lie elsewhere. She stays within the town, serving the coven while acting as the eyes and ears of someone, the person who is truly pulling the strings. She is the one to relay information and letters between the coven and her master. She is a quiet woman, that keeps her head down and her mind to herself. She only shows her true, confident and demanding, nature behind closed doors with the coven when they dare to question her.

Anisha Kaur; The Servant

Witch • Afab • Demigirl • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The charming son of Leary. Many whisper that is part fae, due to his charm, if it’s true or not many are unaware. He is a very sophisticated young man, that has managed to wrap the entire town around his finger. While on the surface he is alike his father is a caring, compassionate, charming young man, something sinister brews beneath. He is devious, demanding, domineering.

Nathir O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate’s Son

Half-Witch/Half-Fae • Amab • Agender • He/Him • Bisexual • Aromantic

Being the baker's daughter, Liannah helps around the bakery and family business. Unlike the company she keeps, she is a reserved young woman. She is polite and maintains her manners with whomever she is dealing with. She has the patience of a saint and rarely loses her cool. Liannah is a woman with a calm demeanor about her, being a woman many are comfortable around due to her peaceful and calm aura.

Liannah Ó Buachalla; The Baker’s Daughter

Witch • Afab • Genderfluid • She/They • Asexual • Panromantic

Ausrine's bastard son she had with a spirit she bargained with for more power. Since he was young, he was raised by the servants of the house, and the coven, over his own mother; the two have more of a business relationship over a family one. Since he cares less about what his mother does, he spends his time with Liannah and Reyes, either at the bakery or getting into trouble somewhere. With Reyes as an influence, Mastema is a flirtatious man that enjoys scandals and making the most of life

Mastema Baoghal; The Knave

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Genderfluid • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

Rochan Misra; The Charlatan

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Queer • He/She • Pansexual • Aromantic

A foreigner to the Coven, born and raised in the Duchy of Incali. At a young age, he became a traveling charlatan, recently settling within the coven only as he befriended Liannah and Mastema and enjoyed their company. Now, he is the local bad influence: scamming locals out of their money at the taverns, wooing and seducing young men and ladies alike, always trespassing and vandalizing something. He is trouble but has a heart of gold when it matters.

ARIH: : @hekat-ie, @writings-of-a-narwhal, @silent-creed

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Taglist:

General: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @alexwritesfiction, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

Both: @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @egg-shark

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failes-xtra-bits · 4 years

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Chapter 20/ Here’s your hat Damen, what’s your hurry? Laurent is gifted a burlap sack.

just a little longer, he thought, and it might have been a mundane wish to drowse in bed, except for the ache in his chest. He felt the passing of time like a growing pressure. He was aware of each moment because it was one fewer that he had left.

Sleeping beside Damen, there was a newly physical aspect revealed in Laurent: the taut waist, the upper body musculature of a swordsman, the exposed angle of his Adams Apple. Laurent looked like what he was: a young man. When laced into his clothing, Laurent’s dangerous grace lent him an almost androgynous quality. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was rare to associate Laurent with a physical body at all: you were always dealing with a mind. Even when fighting in battle, driving his horse to some impossible feat the body was under the control of the mind.

Stirring drowsily, Laurent shifted a fraction closer and made a soft, unthinking sound of pleasure that Damen was going to remember for the rest of his life. And then Laurent was blinking sleepily and Damen was watching Laurent grow aware of his surroundings and come awake in his arms. He wasn't sure how it would be, but when Laurent saw who was beside him, he smiled, the expression a little shy but completely genuine. Damen who hadn't been expecting it, felt the single painful beat of his heart. He'd never thought Lauren could look like that at any one.

‘It's morning,’ said Laurent, ‘we slept?’

‘We slept,’ said Damen. They were gazing at one another. He held himself still as Laurent reached out and touched the plane of his chest. Despite the rising sun they were kissing, slow, fantastic kisses, the wonderful drift of hands. Their legs tangled together. He ignored the feeling inside him and closed his eyes.

‘Your inclination appears to be much as it was last night.’

‘You talk the same in bed,’and the words came out sounding like he felt: helplessly charmed.

‘ Can you think of a better way of putting it?’

I want to you.’ said Damen

‘You've had me, twice. I can still feel the.. sensation of it.’ Laurent shifted, just so. Damen buried his face in Laurent’s neck and groaned, and there was laughter too, and something akin to happiness that hurt as it pushed at the inside of his chest.

‘Stop it. You will not be able to walk,’ said Damen,

‘I’d welcome the chance to walk,’ said Laurent ‘ I have to ride a horse.’

Is it…? I tried to.. I wouldn't---’

‘I like the way it feels,’ said Laurent ‘I liked the way it felt. You're a generous, giving, lover and I feel---’Laurent broke off and gave a shaky laugh at his own words, I feel like the Vaskian tribe in the body of one person. I suppose it is often like this?’

‘ No, it’s never like this.' said Damen. The idea that Laurent might find this with someone else hurt him.

‘Does that betray my inexperience? You know my reputation.Once every ten years.’

‘ I can't,’ said Damen, ‘I can’t have this for just one night.’

‘One night and one morning,’ said Laurent, and this time it was Damen who found himself pushed down onto the bed.

He dozed,after, drifting in the early sunlight, and woke to an empty bed.

Ok so we know Damen woke up to the servants (♬To the left, to the left

Everything you own on your arms and yo neck♬)

‘Where’s Laurent?’he asked a servant, who told him in no uncertain terms he needed to get up and get ready to go...(♬And keep askin’ ‘bout me,that's fine...But could you walk and talk at the same time, and-- the servants will draw you a bath, so go on and soak, let them saddle your nag.♬) So needless to say Laurent went off on his own because he couldn't, didn’t know how to say goodbye. Damen get’s the collar and the one cuff off(because he wanted to keep one) as promised. As he is, he’s thinking about the man he’s become and how it would not have been, if he hadn’t been sent to Vere. How he would have never known the good man that Laurent is and things would have stayed status quo.

His escort arrived it was six men and one of them already mounted was Jord who looked him right in the eye and said

‘You kept your word’ his horse was being led forward; not only a riding horse, but a pack horse, a sword, clothing, supplies.

Is there something you want? Laurent had asked him once. He wondered what ornate Veretian Parting Gift might Lurk in those packs( He’s one of those that SAYS he wants nothing for valentine’s day…) and knew instinctively that there was none. He had maintained from the beginning that he had wanted only his freedom and that was exactly what he had been given.

‘I always meant to leave.’ he said. He swung up into the saddle. He felt Jord draw up beside him.

‘ He's gone for a ride,’ said Jord. ‘It was his habit in the palace too, when he needed to clear his head. He’s not the type for goodbyes.’

‘No,’ said Damen. He made to ride out, but Jord put a hand on his reins.

‘Wait,’ said Jord.’ I wanted to say--- thank you. For standing up for Aimeric.’

‘I didn't do it for Aimeric,’ said Damen. Jord nodded.

And then he said, ‘When the men heard you were leaving, they wanted---we wanted--- to see you off.’ He said,’There's time.’

Laurent comes racing back into the courtyard, angry at being forced to return before Damen is gone, clearly there is an issue and it’s obvious that Laurent isn’t quite sure what to expect, when in, rides a retinue sent by The Regent. The Emissary/Herald faced Laurent.

Laurent was a single rider casually-dressed but then he had never needed anything other than his hair to do identifying.

‘The King of Vere sends a message’ said the Herald, his voice trained to carry, could be heard the full length of the courtyard by each of the gathered men and women. He spoke. ‘The Pretender Prince is in traitorous conspiracy with Akielos, wherefore he has given over Veretian villages to slaughter, and has killed Veretian border Lords. He is therefore summarily expelled from the succession, and charged with the crime of treason against his own people. Any authority he has hitherto claimed over the lands of Vere or the protectorate of Aquitart is now void. The reward for his delivery to justice is generous,and will be administered as swiftly as the punishment against any man who shelters him, so says the King.’ There was silence in the courtyard. No one spoke.

‘But there is no King,’ said Laurent, ’in Vere.’ his voice carried too. ‘The king my father is dead.’ he said, ‘Speak the name of the man who profanes his title.’

‘The King, your uncle.’

‘My uncle insults his family. He uses a title that belonged to my father--- that should have passed to my brother, and that runs now in my blood. Do you think I will let this insult stand?’ The herald spoke again, by rote.

‘The King is a man of honor; he offers you one chance for honest battle. If your brother's blood is truly in your veins, you will meet him on the field at Charcy three days hence. There you may try to prevail with your Patran troops against good Veresian men.’

‘Fight him I will, but not at the time and place of his choosing.’

‘Is that your final answer?’

‘It is.’

‘In that case, there is a personal message from uncle to nephew.’

(poor Nicaise)

‘My uncle has killed his catamite,’ said Laurent, ‘As a message to us and what is the message?’His voice carried ‘That his favor cannot be trusted? That even the boys in his bed see how false is his claim to the throne? Or that his hold on power is so flimsy that he fears the words of a child whore? Let him come to Charcy with his hithertos and his wherefores and there he will find me, and with all the might of my kingdom I will scourge him from the field. And if you want a personal message,’ said Laurent. ‘You can tell my uncle, boykiller, that he can cut the head off every child from here the capital. It won't make him into a King. It will simply mean he has no one left to f***.’ Laurent wheeled his horse and Damen was there facing him.

‘You’ve outstayed your welcome.’ Said Laurent(♬to the left, to the left♬)

‘Don’t do this. If you ride to meet your uncle unprepared you will lose everything you fought for.’

‘But I won't be unprepared, pretty little Aimeric is going to give up everything he knows and when I’ve wrung every last word out of him maybe I'll send what’s left to my Uncle.’

Damen opened his mouth to speak, but Laurent cut him off

‘I told you to get him out of here.’

After telling Jord he don’t care who knows he’s Damianos, because the love of his life needs him. Damen runs after Laurent. He finds him in Aimeric’s rooms.

He was dressed like a courtier; he had bathed, his hair looked clean. Laurent stood two steps from him, all the lines of his body rigid. A Shard of glass from the broken window lying by his outflung hand blood had soaked into his sleeve and pooled out over the table and tiled floor, but it was old. He had been like this for hours. A fourth son, waiting for someone to notice. When he wasn't trying to please, he was baiting authority as though negative attention could substitute for the approval that he sought--- that he had been given once by Laurent’s uncle.

‘I'm sorry Jord.’

They were the last words anyone would have from him, he had killed himself.

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theworldofsisi · 4 years

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Pretty (Finding Balance)

“You're too pretty, Ren-ah.” the director's tone was harsh as he broke the news to the newest trainee under Pledis Entertainment. “You look feminine. You don't have very many muscles either, but I like your voice.” He grabbed Ren's face carefully, studying the young male's angular jaw line.

Ren bit back the remark that came to mind, instead meeting the CEO's gaze levelly. His low voice came out surprisingly calm despite the fact that he felt like all of the comments being made about him were thinly veiled insults and not simple observations. "I've always looked like this. I was made fun of for it in school because I didn't look as boyish as other kids my age.”

“Mhm.” was all that the director said in response as he took a step back away from his trainee. “We might be able to work with your natural feminine features in that case. Your androgynous appearance might just be what sets you apart from the other four members. Hell, we can even try to make it your trademark. Think of yourself as the opposite of Amber Liu from f(x)”

Ren raised a questioning eyebrow. “Didn't you just tell me that I was “too” feminine? Now you're talking about using it to my advantage?”

The CEO gave him an appraising look. “You're much more feminine than the other members, yes. Have you seen Baekho? He's about as masculine looking as you can get. You, on the other hand, are on the other end of the spectrum.”

Ren dug his heels into the ground to prevent himself from saying something that could quite possibly get him kicked out of the company. The CEO's seemingly inconsistent opinions were making his head hurt.“Are you okay with how I look or not?”

“Frankly, no. But we can make it work is what I'm getting at. We'll make your weakness your strength. You've just got to promise to do whatever I say. For all we know you might even start liking it.”

Choi Mink laughed harshly under his breath from the living room of Nu'Est's living room as he thought back to his trainee days when he had been told that the androgynous concept would suit his natural appearance the best. The CEO had been right - after awhile, the concept had grown on him and given him a sense of confidence and freedom that he had never felt before. It had been invigorating until the comments about his gender had started.

At first, they didn't bother him. Really, they didn't, at least that's what he made himself believe. He had tough skin and had learned to not let things get to him - when you were in the spotlight you were always going to have people who loved and hated you - there was simply no way around it.

He was usually pretty damn good at not letting people hurt his feelings - his manager had later warned him that he could expect some degree of heat from conservative people who watched the band, but Ren would have to learn how to ignore them. However as he logged onto his twitter account and checked his mentions, his face slowly contorted in annoyance.

The comments were on a selfie that he had posted with Baekho. Ren had recently dyed his hair back to its natural black and gotten long extensions down to his shoulders. People were talking about how manly Baekho looked compared to Ren - something that the maknae was used to by now. What he wasn't used to were the questions about whether or not that he had undergone a sex change and was secretly a woman.

He was a man. How he chose to look didn't affect his gender - fashion didn't make the person wearing it. He was simply taking a style and breaking cultural norms - that was his choice and his charm. Ren still believed that strongly, but as he continued reading, he felt his annoyance growing into genuine anger. One particularly rude comment stuck out to the twenty-year-old and his gaze narrowed as he read the words aloud, his voice barely louder than a hiss.

'Ren didn't have a sex change. I think it should be obvious to everyone that he's just a transvestite. I mean, look at the pictures of him wearing a skirt - he's basically embodying the definition of a transvestite. I think the sex change is probable in his near future, but not right now while Nu'Est is still together. I think when they disband he'll transition. This is just my opinion, though.'

Ren slammed his laptop closed and barely managed to stop himself from throwing it across the room. Instead, he sat it down on the floor beside him and rested his chin on his knees, glaring at the white carpet. It wasn't long before he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Nu'Est's oldest member, Aron, talking from the couch behind him. “Minki? Why are you mad all of the sudden?”

Shrugging the hand off of his shoulder, Ren shook his head and refused to answer. Aron slid off of the couch and into the floor beside him. “Ren,” he said firmly. The maknae still refused to acknowledge him. Frustrated, Aron began tickling Ren's sides - something that the youngest member absolutely despised.

Ren began laughing hysterically against his will. He swatted Aron's hand away but still the oldest member kept up his relentless attack on Ren's sides. Normally Ren would have started a playful wrestling match with his hyung, but today he was not in a mood to be messed with. “STOP!” he yelled suddenly, startling both himself and Aron.

Aron ceased tickling the clearly pissed off member and stared at him with eyebrows raised. Ren stood up quickly and turned his back to Aron. “I'm going to go see Seong-Un. Don't wait up.” The maknae knew that he was only angry with Aron because he didn't want to admit that being made fun of him had gotten to him. He made a mental note to apologize to his hyung for his outburst after he had calmed himself down.

He knew that he would feel better as soon as he went to see his girlfriend, Seong. The two had been dating since before Nu'Est's debut - before Ren had changed his image for the band. Seong-Un had never seemed to have a problem with how Ren now looked. That had made him realize that her love for him was more than skin deep - she loved him for who he was underneath all of the makeup and clothing.

Ren had taken careful precautions to keep their relationship out of the media - he had seen many relationships torn apart due to comments from jealous fans or news reporters who liked to twist people's words. Even then, he knew that Seong still had social media accounts and followed him on them - she was just as exposed to the comments about him as he was. His biggest fear was that Seong would read some of the absurd comments about him and actually make the mistake of believing them.

So far that had not happened and Seong had repeatedly assured Ren that it wouldn't. He had started to believe her despite his better judgment telling him that there was no way that Seong could be so sure. She had never lived in the limelight - she really had no clue how things worked.

Ren shook his head to clear away the negative thoughts and gave Aron one last apologetic look. Or at least he hoped that it looked apologetic - with his current mood, he wasn't sure if he could control the sullen expression that was surely on his face.

With a final sigh of defeat, Ren turned on his heels and walked out of the Nu'Est dorm past curious managers. He gave them an excuse of going for a walk for some fresh air, but the manager hyungs knew exactly where their charge was going. They just simply chose not to comment on it to give Ren some sort of privacy - they were all too aware that the poor kid already ha a deficit of that.

Luckily Seong's apartment was just within walking distance of Nu'Est's dorm so Ren didn't have too far to travel. It was slightly chilly outside the dorm and Ren considered going back and grabbing his jacket, but knew that he would run the risk of bumping into one of the other four members - he didn't feel like explaining himself to them either.

Ren started his walk with a deep sigh, taking the familiar path to Seong's apartment. He'd made the same walk more times than he could count in the last few years and knowing the way had become second nature to him.

Luckily it was fairly late so there were few cars and people around - less risk of him getting caught by an overly curious fan or reporter. He was glad for that even though any other day he wouldn't have minded stopping for a quick picture or autograph.

Before long, he found himself at the door to Seong's apartment. He knocked on the door gently and waited. He could hear movement across the hardwood floor and knew that she was on her way. A few seconds later the handle jingled and the door was opened, allowing a pajama-clad Seong to come into Ren's view. “Seong-ah,” he mumbled and pulled her against his chest before resting his chin on top of her head. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning, Minki.” She said but smiled nonetheless and returned his hug. “Come inside - I'm freezing.”

Ren followed Seong into the living room and shut the door behind him. The spicy sweet scent of cinnamon vanilla wafted up to his nose and he smiled, instantly feeling more relaxed. That was Seong's signature scent - her house always smelled like a mix of those two fragrances and Ren loved it.

When he stopped sniffing the air and focused his gaze on his girlfriend once again, he noticed that her eyes were glazed over and her hair slightly disheveled. “Oh no.. you weren't asleep, were you?”

Seong nodded her head. “I was. But not for very long, so it's okay. But why are you here, Minki? It's almost ten p.m - I know that you haven't forgotten that the band has practice in the morning.”

Ren blinked and looked away, refusing to meet her gaze. “Can't I just decide to have an impromptu visit with my girlfriend?”

“Maybe. But Aron called me and warned me that something had put you into a bad mood.”

Ren's head shot up and he glared in irritation. “Damn him.”

“You don't mean that. He did it because he's worried about you and didn't want me to be unprepared when you got here this late.”

“I know,” Ren mumbled in defeat but didn't elaborate. He didn't move or speak again until Seong grabbed his hand gently and led him over to her couch. She pushed him onto it and took a seat beside him. Ren rested his head in her lap as she ran her hands through his hair, making him immediately relax.

“Minki. I know that something's bothering you. It hurts when you don't trust me enough to tell me what's going on.”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Really? Then why would you come here at ten o'clock at night, knowing good and well that you could have come tomorrow after practice?” Seong stopped stroking Ren's hair, causing the singer to roll over and stare up at her questioningly. “Nope. I'm not doing it anymore until you start talking,” she replied, as if able to read his thoughts. She knew that he loved the sensations her hands caused on his scalp - it was one of the reasons that she wondered if he was somehow a reincarnated cat. The boy loved being pet too much.

Ren pouted adorably and Seong looked away, knowing that he was trying to coerce her into ignoring that something was wrong. “I'm not giving up until you talk. We can stay up all night - I've got time, but you don't. You have to wake up for practice at eight a.m, and you know that it takes you at least an hour to fall asleep. It's almost eleven now since you've been wasting time.”

“It was just a stupid comment on twitter. I shouldn't have let it get to me, but it did. It hurt a lot more than it should have.”

“Can I see what they said?” Ren winced and rolled on his side again. He had feared that she would ask him to show her what had his emotions all wound up. He'd been expecting it, but he still hadn't been prepared for the little sting in his heart that the thought of reliving it caused. He was almost ready to tell her no when he felt her running her hands through his hair again, instantly making him agree to show her the comments, despite his strong desire not to.

Ren reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cellphone. He logged onto the twitter app with a heavy heart and went to his newsfeed. He was immediately shocked to see that the picture he had posted with Baekho had hundreds of comments now. He scrolled down, trying not to read the rest of them until his gaze fell on the one that he was looking for.

Seong reached for his phone and he gave it to her without much fight. She continued playing with his hair comfortingly as she read, her brow slowly furrowing in sadness as she read the original comment and some of its replies. Her gaze fell on a recent comment that had gotten many retweets. She was terrified of what it said, but she found herself unable to look away.

'At first, I was fine with my teenage daughter listening to this band. I had always thought that something seemed a little bit... off about Ren but never thought that he was like this. He clearly wants to be a woman, and that's not okay. God gave him the body of a man and he's trying to change that. Anyway, that's enough of my opinions. Let's just say that my child is going to have to find another group to “stan” or whatever the word for supporting a group is.. she will no longer be allowed to listen to a band that has a member who dresses like this and embodies these types of things. The last thing I need is for her to come home and ask me if she can become a man..”

Seong's breath caught in her throat as she read the last words, her hand unconsciously tangling in Ren's hair to the point that it hurt. “Seong,” he whined as he reached up and grabbed his girlfriend's wrist. “You're hurting my head.”

Coming back to her senses, she released her hold on his hair and laid his phone down on the arm of the couch. Ren sat up and ran his hand across her cheek gently, obvious concern in his eyes. “What is it?” he questioned as he reached for his phone with his free hand. Seong grabbed his hand and placed it on her shoulder before pulling the singer into a kiss.

Ren pulled back a moment later for air, eyes wide and long hair in disarray. “Now I know that something is wrong. You don't kiss me like that unless you're hoping that I won't ask questions.”

Seong flinched. He knew her too well by this point in their relationship - she couldn't lie to him anymore. With a shaking hand and regret written clearly on her face, she handed Ren his phone. He pressed the button to make the screen come to life and began reading the comment that had upset Seong so much.

Ren didn't speak immediately after finishing. He wasn't sure what to say and didn't really trust his voice. Parents were afraid that he would corrupt their children? Was how he chose to dress really that big of an impact on the younger generation? Better yet, how did his choices influence someone else's? He couldn't be blamed for children who didn't feel comfortable in their bodies - that wasn't even his case. Fashion didn't make the person wearing it.

Ren hadn't realized that he'd started shaking. Seong wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer to her, unsure of whether or not he was angry or trying not to cry. Ren shut his phone off and stared at the ground. He was more pissed than he had been before he had left the dorm - a complete defeat of the purpose of this visit.

“Minnie. You know that I love you, right?” The question came out of nowhere, jarring Ren out of his sullen reverie.

“Yeah. I love you too,” he replied honestly but still without lifting his gaze from the floor.

“Why are you letting it get to you, then? You know that you have the members and me who love you unconditionally. What does it matter if some people don't agree with your decisions?”

“Because this is more than people not liking me, Seong. This is apparently hurting Nu'Est's reputation. Some conservative parents are going to stop their kids from listening to our music, all because of what I look like. There's no way that something like that wouldn't get to me.”

“You still have fans who love you for who you are, Minki. What about them - do their opinions and love not matter to you as much as the negative feedback from critics?”

“I never said that.” Ren's voice had taken on an angry tone, one that Seong was not used to hearing. “The fans that support us are what keeps Nu'Est going. But what if my style keeps driving fans away, to the point that we're not selling any albums or concert tickets? What if Nu'Est fails because of me?”

“Why are you worrying so much? Has JR said anything about your appearance being an issue to the band?”

“No.”

“I thought so. Now do you trust JR as your leader?”

“Of course.”

“I'm reaching the conclusion that you're being neurotic for no reason.”

“Maybe you're right, but I can't help it. I would never forgive myself if I was the reason that all of dreams got crushed.”

“I don't think that's going to happen.” Seong leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently. “Now come on, will you at least try to relax? It's late, you look exhausted and don't have that much time left to sleep. You can stay here tonight and I'll come and watch you practice in the morning.”

Ren nodded, suddenly realizing just how tired that he was - being angry always drained him quickly. That's why he made it a habit of trying and quickly forgiving whoever had done him wrong. But tonight, he wasn't ready to let it go - he would just have to hope he had enough time to recover through sleep.

With a sigh, Ren got off the couch and held his hand out to Seong who took it and led him to her bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and took his shirt off before laying down on the soft mattress of her bed and crawling under the blankets until only his head was showing. Seong kissed the top of his head before laying down beside him and cutting off the lamp.

It was only a few moments later that she heard Ren's soft breathing and knew that he had fallen asleep. It normally took the young singer an hour, but tonight she had the feeling that he hadn't been fighting sleep as much as normal - he had been too tired and upset to have any desire to stay up.

Despite being woken up after barely having gone to bed, Seong found herself unable to sleep. She was worried about Ren - her boyfriend had long since learned not to allow himself to be hurt by what people said and had told her many times that other's opinions didn't matter to him, however, she knew that he was lying. In truth, being insulted or disrespected by anyone bothered him a lot - how could it not? They were tearing apart his dignity with questions about his gender. So what if he dressed differently from most men? That didn't change what he was underneath the clothing, did it?

She wanted to protect him but knew deep in her heart that there was nothing she could do. She couldn't even let people know that they were dating - he did that for her sake she knew, but it still hurt having to keep their relationship so well hidden.

Ren tossed in his sleep and she found herself wondering, not for the first time in their relationship, what dreams he was having. She couldn't imagine that after what had been bothering him before bed that he could be having happy dreams, but she hoped nonetheless that whatever visions his mind was playing for him were pleasant.

Seong reached out to him in the dark room, hoping that she was aiming in the right direction for his hair and wasn't about to hit him in the face. Her hand found long locks and she ran her fingers through them gently so that she didn't wake him up. After a moment she felt her eyelids getting heavy and she allowed her eyes to close as she drifted off into sleep.

"Minki, it's 8:00, you need to get up and take a shower or something to help you wake up. "

"Too tired. Don't want to go to practice."

"Aron is coming over with practice clothes, tell me what you want to wear so he knows."

Ren blinked his dark brown eyes open and focused on Seong's face as awareness slowly crept through him. "Something loose. T-shirt and gym shorts are fine."

"Alright, I'll call him. Now go and get in the shower. Your hair is sticking up everywhere."

Ren grimaced before forcing himself to climb out of Seong's warm bed and stumble groggily into the adjoining bathroom. Seconds later he had stripped out of his jeans and boxers and turned the dial of the shower to adjust the water temperature. With a sigh of effort, he managed to make his tired body cooperate enough to step into the bath and stand under the steamy water.

He almost felt himself being lulled back to sleep by the relaxing spray, but as his cheek brushed against the cold shower wall, he was jarred awake. Damn, next time Seong told him to stop wasting time, he would listen. Ren reached towards the shelf and grabbed the bottle of shampoo sitting there. It smelled like roses - Ren's least favorite scent in beauty products. With a look of distaste, he lathered it into his hair and decided that he would ask JR to lend him some of his cologne before practice. Not that it really mattered - he would smell like sweat soon enough.

It took him longer than it used to wash his hair now, the one downside of the new extensions. For a moment he found himself missing his short blonde hair but quickly crushed the longing feeling. He liked having his hair dark again - it suited his complexion, plus it was something new. If there was one thing that Ren wasn't afraid to do, it was trying new fashion trends. The length was just something he would have to get used to.

A few minutes later he had washed his body and hair and turned the water off. He felt a bit more awake, but it hadn't helped his bad mood. Ren had been trying his best to keep what he had read on twitter the previous night off his mind, but in the end, he failed and the memories crept back up on him. He hadn't been on social media since last night and was a bit scared to log back into it anytime soon.

He hated the feeling of weakness that being afraid to stand up for himself caused. He wasn't afraid to defend himself, he just wasn't allowed to. He had to keep Nu'Est's professional appearance at all costs or it would hurt the band's reputation as a whole - their personal reputations be damned. That meant that Ren basically had to put up with people disrespecting him as a person or risk getting major heat or even forced leave by the company. He didn't like the rules, but sadly, he wasn't the one who put them in place.

Ren took a deep breath and grabbed a fluffy white towel off of the rack beside the shower. He wrapped it tightly around his waist before stepping out onto the tiled floor. He grabbed another towel and attacked his long locks with it, instantly staining it a dull shade of black. The dye in his hair had stopped running in the shower, but was still prone to dying fabrics when wet. And he had used Seong's favorite towels - she had repeatedly begged him not to dry his hair using her good towels if he had recently colored his hair. With a grimace he made a mental note to buy her a new set for her upcoming birthday - she couldn't stay mad at him when he gave her ten more of the same towels, could she?

With that in mind, he quickly walked out of the stuffy bathroom and back into Seong's bedroom. A pair of blue gym shorts and a gray wife-beater were laying folded across the bed, along with the pair of white tennis shoes that he often wore to practice and a pair of ankle-length socks with his favorite character, Luffy from the anime One Piece printed on them. Ren laughed quietly at how well his hyung had thought ahead - he knew what Ren would have asked for had he been awake enough to remember everything he needed for the day. Before he started getting dressed, he quickly hid the stained towel he had used for his hair under the bed - he would explain it to Seong later.

He was dressed and sitting on the bed tying his shoes when Seong came into the room to check on him. She held out a hair-bow when he looked up and Ren smiled gratefully - there was no way in hell that he would have been able to focus with his hair constantly falling in his face and obstructing his vision. Ren frowned when he realized that he hadn't asked Aron to bring him a comb. Seong saw his look and grabbed her own brush off of the vanity. Minki winked and ran it through his hair thoroughly, wincing as it caught in the wet waves. A moment later he pulled his damp locks into a messy ponytail and glanced at himself in the vanity's mirror. He looked fine for practice, but definitely more tired than he usually did.

“Aron already went back to the dorm - everyone else is getting ready. He said we can wait for him to pick us up or we can drive on ahead in my car. Since you're the one going to practice, I'll let you decide.” Seong said after she laid her brush back on the vanity where she could find it. Ren tapped his chin thoughtfully as he he made his decision - he was tired, but he also had too much on his mind. Driving would be a good distraction and might help improve his mood if he couldn't focus as hard on what was bothering him.

“We'll take your car, but I want to drive.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea? You're tired and I really don't think you're in the best of moods right now. I need my car to get to school.”

“I'm sure. If nothing else I'll buy you a new car.”

“Minki, you know that I don't want you to spend that much money on me.”

“Please Seong, just met me drive. It'll distract me a little bit so I can unwind before practice. I'm gonna be too tense to get the moves right if I don't relax.”

“Fine, you can drive. But if I see any indication that you're not in a good condition to drive, promise me that you will pull over and stop the car.”

“Promise.” Seong sighed and grabbed the keys off of her dresser and handed them to Ren. He took them and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before heading outside and getting in Seong's sleek gray Honda Civic.

Ren gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove down the long expanse of pavement that made up the crowded streets of Seoul. Driving had distracted him for a few moments until he had realized that he hadn't checked any of his social media accounts in hours - he normally tried to respond to at least a few of the messages that he got from fans everyday, but he hadn't been able to log on. He was disappointed in himself for not keeping up the habit that he had picked up - interacting with fans was one of his favorite things to do in his spare time.

Seong noticed the tightness of his hold on her wheel - she had recently gotten the cover replaced and was terrified of any of the paint being chipped off because of rough handling. With a disapproving look she placed her hand on top of one of Ren's to get his attention. He glanced at her before moving his eyes back to the road but said nothing. “You don't have to death grip the wheel.”

Ren chuckled slightly before slackening his hold. “Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I think the wheel is fine.”

Seong's expression softened as she noticed the distant tone of his voice. He was upset again - she could tell far too easily. “Yeah, I figured. But are you?”

“I dunno. I'm afraid to log onto twitter because I don't want to see what people have said. I don't like being afraid - I think I'm more mad at myself for being scared than I am because I'm being made fun of.”

“You know that its okay to get upset when people talk about you, right? You can't expect to be able to take everything in stride - you're human, not made of stone.” Seong sighed and shook her had sadly before looking out the window. “I'm glad you're getting to live your dream, Ren. But sometimes I really regret what its done to you. The old you would have known that he didn't have to stop himself from feeling upset. You would have embraced your emotions because that's who you were.”

Ren flinched. “You called me Ren..,” he muttered in surprise. Seong normally avoided using his stage name - she felt like he was a completely different person when he went by that name, and not the same Minki that she fell in love with. The fact that she called him that was admitting that she didn't feel like he was the same person at that moment, and it hurt. “Also, I'm still me, Seong. I may act different when I'm on stage, but if you strip everything that Ren is away, I am Minki. I thought you still believed that.”

“I do Minnie. But sometimes I wonder.” She reached and laid her hand against his shoulder before trailing her fingers across his neck, something that she knew gave him chills. “It's just that I've known you since we were born. Our mom's have been friends since they were kids. We've always been together, not to mention that we've been dating since we were teenagers. We're twenty now, Minki. I've been around you for twenty years - and I've had to watch you change more and more since your band's debut. I guess I'm having a hard time keeping up with who you have to be for performances and who you really are. Its like sometimes you forget to switch back to the Minki I know and if I'm being honest, it scares me.”

Ren frowned as he made a right turn in the direction of the practice studio. “I guess you're right. I do change myself to keep up with the new trends and what fans like. I do have different selves that make up Ren's persona as a whole. I'm only Minki when I'm around you and the members away from the spotlight. That's not all that often because our schedules are so strict.”

“You don't know how much I treasure the moments where Ren is gone completely and you're the Minki that I know. I really miss you sometimes.”

“For you, I'll try to be myself more. It does get kind of tiring to have to pretend to be someone I'm not all the time. It just becomes a difficult habit to break. I don't want to lose the person that I am.”

“I won't let that happen. I promise I'm here with you until the end.” Seong smiled and stretched when the familiar practice studio came into view. “Well, we're finally here. I'm ready to get out of this car.”

“Agreed.”

"Ren, did you eat?" JR's voice was clearly concerned, but his face remained stoic as he hovered over his youngest member. Ren's pout grew and the leader knew that he had gotten his question answered. "You're not practicing until you've eaten, and that's final. The last time you didn't eat before practice you collapsed and hit your head. We can't have anyone in the hospital so close to our comeback."

Minki sighed in resignation and held out his hand for the food that he knew JR was probably holding. Something warm was pressed into his hand and he glanced at it, finding that it was actually a chicken biscuit from the McDonalds in Seoul. He unwrapped it and slowly chewed, surprisingly realizing that it tasted good.

Ren watched, still eating his own biscuit as JR offered Seong the last one. She took it and said a quick thank you, smiling slightly. She still wasn't as used to JR as the other members - the leader had a tendency to not talk much and when he did, he often came across as intimidating. She didn't dislike him, she just didn't always feel entirely at ease around him.

Moments later Ren finished the last of his biscuit and the band began practicing the moves for their new song, Sleep Talking. Ren tried to focus on the dance, but found himself having difficulty concentrating. He had bumped into Baekho twice, causing the lead singer to push him backwards in aggravation. After a few moments, he found his groove and found himself slowly forgetting about what had led to his bad mood. That was until he heard angry clapping and the manager stepped forward, an annoyed glower on his face. “Ren, your dance was stunning - simply perfect.” he paused, causing Ren to anticipate that there was a “but” coming. He looked at the ground and bit his lip, refusing to meet the manager's eyes. “But you're doing the wrong dance- that was Hello's dance. Do we need to review the dance for Sleep Talking?”

Ren shook his head and got back into position to restart the dance, the correct one this time. Minhyun gave him a sympathetic look before they began Sleep Talking's complicated first move.

Ren sat on the floor beside Minhyun in position for Sleep Talking's first move, his head down. He was looking at the floor, not really seeing it by this point but attempting to practice regardless of how he felt. It didn't really matter, did it? With a sigh he began dancing when all of the other members sprang to life at JR's cue.

Ren did his solo lines in the song, his voice barely above a dull monotone. The managers just shook their heads in frustration but didn't comment. The singer felt his face flush but continued to sing. Seong gave him a thumbs up which he ignored - he wasn't in the mood for false idealism.

When the dance picked up again Ren didn't see JR directly beside him - he swung his arm in time to the dance and hit the leader in the head, knocking him back. Ren gasped as he realized what he had just done, fully expecting to get yelled at by his hyung. To his dismay, JR simply stared at him, hand on his head. “Minki, what's wrong with you today?”

Ren apologized quickly, no other words coming to him. The manager stepped forward and give the youngest member a glare. “Ren, you've messed up the choreography twice now. Do you not know it? Have all of the weeks of training we've been doing really had so little effect?”

“I know the dance manager hyung. I'm just.. distracted today.”

“ I can tell. You haven't paid any attention to what you've been doing, have you? And now you've gone and given Jonghyun a concussion.”

“Actually, my head is fine.” JR mumbled, his voice annoyed. Ren thought that his annoyance was directed at him, then he noticed that the leader's gaze was firmly on the manager. “Stop being so hard on Minki. He had a bad day yesterday.”

Unwilling to get into a fight with the intimidating leader, the manager walked away, uttering a string of angry curses but not giving the members another look as he retreated. Ren gave JR an appreciative look then lowered his gaze down to the floor in slight embarrassment. “You didn't have to protect me.”

“No, I didn't. But I wanted to. Manger-hyung has had a stick up his ass all day, and I'm getting sick of it. He deserved to be told off.” JR hit his youngest dongsaeng on the shoulder lightly. “Now smile, or tell me why you're so out of it today.”

“I read some stuff on twitter about me being androgynous.”

“So? We've dealt with that since debut, Ren. Why does it suddenly matter more to you?”

“Because, I'm not a girl, JR. I'm a guy, regardless of how the fuck I look.” Ren's eyes widened - he had surprised himself with his sudden outburst. Seong gave him a disapproving look and he glanced at the ground for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.

“Minki, you've known since debut that these comments were going to come.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think that they were going to start hurting our reputation.”

“Why would you say that? I haven't seen any indication that sales of anything are going down at all. We're doing fine, Renny.”

Ren didn't respond, he simply grabbed his phone from Seong's purse and pulled up twitter, searching for the string of comments that had ruined his day. He found them quickly due to the still growing chain or retweets and handed the phone to the leader.

JR's jaw tightened as he read some of the more disrespectful comments about his youngest band-mate. His natural protective nature as the leader took over and his fingers gripped the phone harder than he meant to. This wasn't lost on Ren who laid a gentle hand on his hyung's shoulder. “What is it, JR?”

“I don't know what to say about this. This is bullshit. Why the hell does it matter if you don't completely look your gender - that's not hurting anybody. Its your goddamned choice to dress and look how you want.”

“JR!” Baekho called from the floor beside JR's feet. “Language. Seriously, I know you're pissed but tone down the cursing.”

“Fuck off Baekho. You know that you have quite the mouth on you when you're mad.”

Baekho didn't respond - he knew that when the leader was in a bad mood, there would be no reasoning with him without getting his head bitten off. Plus, be had a point.

JR took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. It was never good for himself or his band when he got riled up like this. “I'm sorry, Baekho. I should have thought more about what was about to come out of my mouth.” He turned to Ren and gave him a sympathetic, if not a tad apologetic look. “Ren, there are more comments that I'm sure you haven't seen. They're not good - some of them are downright degrading and insulting. But before you get yourself worked up again, listen to me. Your image is not hurting Nu'Est. You're free to be yourself.”

“Those comments say otherwise, don't they?”

“Yeah. But we're not worried about what people who aren't really fans say. If they really supported Nu'Est, they would support all of us. Don't worry about what some people say - pay attention to what the one's who actually care about you say.”

“I told him that, but he didn't listen. Maybe hearing it from his leader will help some.” Seong smiled as she took Ren's hand. He squeezed it gently, ignoring a mocking look from Minhyun.

JR smiled shyly and nodded. “Yeah. Minki is kind of hard headed sometimes, but you probably know that better than us by this point.”

“I'm right here, and I'm not hard headed.” Ren defended, a slight blush coloring his neck and cheeks.

JR smirked as he ran a hand through his long bangs. “Sure you're not Ren. But anyway, I think we should cut practice short today - let's go get something to eat.”

The manager, who had been silent up until that point, walked furiously towards JR and grabbed the leader by the front of his shirt. “Are you crazy, Jonghyun? You have a comeback in a few weeks. This isn't the time to be taking days off and getting lazy. Its the time to amp up and practice harder!”

JR's fist clenched at his side and it took everything he had not to punch the manger in the face right then and there. Instead, with his gaze too calm, he met the managers gaze with his own dark brown eyes. “First of all, I suggest that you let me go.” The manager did as instructed, releasing JR's shirt and taking an appropriate step back. JR nodded in satisfaction before sighing deeply. “Second of all, I'm the leader of these guys, and I take care of my boys. They're all tired and Ren's head isn't in the game. He's not going to learn anything by being forced to stay here when he has no chance of focusing. I'm gonna take them out so that he can calm down some so tomorrow will be more productive. Are we clear?”

The manger shook his head. “Fine, do whatever you want. I couldn't stop you anyway, not without you making a claim to the director about me prohibiting you from leaving against your will. So go, but be back here at the same time tomorrow, or we will have a problem.”

JR didn't respond he just gestured to the door and began walking towards it, his members and Seong following closely behind. Seong walked faster to match her pace with Ren's and he wound his hand through hers with a small smile. They made it out of the huge company building at back outside into the bright afternoon light.

The beautiful setting was interrupted by the all too familiar flash of cameras and Minki instinctively pulled his hand away from Seong's, glaring at the reporters who had appeared in front of them. With one last look, Ren pulled Seong to him and pushed her face into his side, hiding her from the view of the cameras.

He walked quickly, ignoring the hands grabbing at him and the voices begging him to give them the latest scoop on his life. when the couple arrived at Seong's car, he quickly pushed his girlfriend into the car, allowing her to get in first as he went around to the driver's side. He put the keys in the ignition and sped off at a speed that probably wasn't legal, leaving the reporters in the dirt.

Nu'Est was scheduled for an interview, and Ren was terrified. It was two days after being spotted by reporters at the Pledis company building, and if Ren had been avoiding social media before, he was never going back on it at this point. JR had told him not to worry too much, but he couldn't help it. He had seen what the media could do to twist relationships, and he wasn't prepared to lose Seong due to something like that.

He wasn't naive - he knew that there had been far too many reporters waiting for them for him to fully have been able to protect Seong from all of their views - at least one of them had to have gotten a picture of her face, compromising her identity.

He also knew how these interviews worked - the hosts purposely asked questions that would be difficult or revealing for the members to answer, so that they could get any scoop into the lives of celebrities to boost their ratings.

With a sigh Ren buttoned up his white shirt and pulled a black jacket over it, before looking into the mirror. He had his hair tied in a bun at his nape, and a short gold chain hanging from his neck. He looked at least presentable, not that he cared very much how he looked for this one particular interview.

Five minutes later the manager hurriedly shooed him out of his room and into the waiting van, reprimanding Ren for taking too long and risking that they arrive late to the interview.

“So Ren, the next question is for you.” The interviewer smiled, and Ren returned the expression, even though he felt it turning into a grimace. “There were some pictures leaked on the internet a few days ago, of you and a young woman. In one of the pictures you were holding her hand, and then the next shows you holding her close to your side. Can I ask if she's your girlfriend?”

Ren laughed nervously and Aron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him an encouraging look when he caught his gaze. He nodded and turned back to the interviewer. “She is.”

The interviewer's eyes widened in surprise. “So you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you aware that their are rumors that you're gay? Some of them suggest that you're in a relationship with your band-mate JR? You're crushing that rumor today?”

“I was aware that there were rumors about my sexuality, yes. I didn't know that they suggested that I was in a relationship with JR.”

“There are, I'll show you them if you want. But since you're crushing that rumor, how long have you and your girlfriend been in a relationship?”

“We started dating when we were fifteen, but we've known each other since we were born.”

“Oh, so you were childhood friends?”

“Yes, so were our mothers.”

“When did you first realize that you were attracted to her?”

“Well, I always sort of had a crush on her, but I didn't know that at first - I thought I was just really close to her because I'd known her for so long. Then when we got into middle school and she started growing up, I realized that she was beautiful.”

“When you say she “grew up”, you mean her body matured, as in she developed..” the host stopped talking and gestured towards his chest. Ren caught the meaning and laughed a little bit, blushing as he looked down.

“I didn't base my feelings on her chest size.”

“Are you saying that you don't like breasts?”

“What? No. I just said -”

“Ren, are you gay?”

JR grabbed Ren by the collar before he could jump out of his seat. The leader knew that this host had a habit of asking personal questions in a very forthright and insensitive way, and also twisting the words of the celebrities to make the question and response all the more juicy. He had hoped that he wouldn't do that to Ren, but had been prepared just in case.

Ren struggled against the older member's grip, but couldn't break free. By this point he was sure that the directors of the show had called cut, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway - the show was broadcast live, and the whole of South Korea that had been watching had already seen his outburst.

He stopped struggling when he saw the expressions on his band-mates faces. He could do nothing by getting angry - it would only give critics more to talk about if he couldn't contain his anger and continued acting out. With a huff of intense anger, he relaxed and JR knew that he was trying to calm down. He released his hold on Minki's collar and sat back, waiting with baited breath as the host sat in his seat, staring at them in shock. “I'm sorry about that Ren, that was rude of me.”

“Yeah, it was.” Ren muttered, unable to control the venom that seeped into his words.

“I think that we should.. call off the rest of this interview. I'm not sure if any of you have anything else you'd like to say to me.”

“You're kind of a dick.” Aron said and gave the reporter a glare before standing up. “We'd leave even if you hadn't given us permission.” Seong sat on the couch of her apartment in shock as the broadcast of Nu'Est's interview was cut off abruptly without warning. The host had insensitively questioned Ren's sexuality with absolutely no reason to other than his own personal speculation. She couldn't blame Ren for his reaction, even though he had reacted more strongly than she thought that he normally would have. He was typically so much more calm and forgiving, but he had instantly gotten angry at the host's comments and she was positive that if JR hadn't grabbed him by the shirt, he would have gone to extreme lengths to shut the host up.

She was worried about him, but he hadn't been answering his phone. She called the other members, but they weren't picking up either.

With nothing better to do, Seong went onto her social media to catch up. What she found on Twitter surprised her so much that she dropped her phone on the floor. It was a picture of Ren, but it wasn't just him. In the picture he was kissing JR.

Seong knew that she shouldn't believe it, but it wasn't the only one. Surely people didn't have enough time to Photoshop all of those pictures? There were too many, each becoming increasingly graphic in its depiction of her boyfriend with his leader.

Then she read the comments on some of the pictures, and she felt her heart sink into her stomach like an anchor. It was at that terrible moment that she heard the door to her apartment open and footsteps loud enough to be heard even though they were coming across carpet. Before she knew it, lips were being crushed against hers and instead of being taken over by the familiar kiss, she struggled against the hands that had found their way to her hips.

Seong pushed Ren away hard enough where he nearly stepped on the phone that she hadn't picked up. He looked down at the floor and saw a picture of him kissing JR. His face fell and and he stared at Seong, his face instantly paling. “You know this is photoshopped, right?”

She shook her head once. “I thought that at first, but why are there so many of them? And look at this!” her voice raised louder than she meant it to as she grabbed her phone from beside Ren's foot before thrusting it into his hands. He read the comment, feeling his fists clench at his side with each word.

'Just because Ren was with a girl, does not mean that he's straight. I'm sorry for all of the fangirls who just can't accept that he's gayer than a circle, but he's not interested in women. He's probably just using her as a cover up to hide his feelings for JR. Look at all of the videos of them acting gay together under the pretense that it's just “skinship” I'm sorry, but last time I checked, skinship doesn't involve making out with a band-mate at any chance you get. I think he's in love with JR and if this girl really is someone that he's dating, I feel bad for her honestly.'

Ren's hands were shaking as he gripped the phone, his gaze slowly turning back to Seong. She was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face, and he searched her eyes, searching for some sign that she didn't completely believe the rumor that she was seeing about him. Dammit, their relationship was stronger than that, wasn't it?

But as he he caught her gaze, he began to wonder if that was the truth. She was staring at him as if she didn't recognize him, and he realized that it was because of the conversation that they had in the car. She didn't know his Ren personality - he wasn't the same person as he was when he was himself. She didn't know if Ren was capable of cheating on her and using her as a cover up for a relationship with a man.

He had no words to reason with her, but he had to try anyway regardless. He couldn't just give up and let her go without a fight because dammit she was worth it. “Seong, you can't really believe this crap. Look at me.” He tried to grab her face to turn her head towards him, but she kept moving and refused to let him get his hand near her.

“I wouldn't believe it, but why did you react so strongly on that interview, Minki? You and I both know that you've been asked that question a lot - why did it affect you so badly today?”

“Did you not hear how he asked me, Seong? He was asking me that because I don't love you for your boobs. Did you want me to tell him that was the only reason that I fell for you?”

“You know you've been asked if you're gay in worse ways before, and you always responded to them with a smile and told them that you have a girlfriend. You were more defensive, and I know why.”

“Because its true, Ren! You're in love with JR. Why else would you get so defensive when he named names, instead of just asking if you were interested in men? He implicated JR and you went off.”

“Why would you believe that I love JR in that way?”

“You touch each other all of the time, hell sometimes you touch him more than you touch me.”

“You know that isn't true.”

“Do I, Ren?” Seong countered, using his stage-name like a sword. The implication of her using that name stabbed into his heart like a sword and he gasped like his chest really had been pierced. “Its been a long time coming, really. I told you that I don't recognize you when you step off of that stage. You've changed so much even though I've been beside through the entire thing. I really don't know who you are at all anymore.”

Ren's heart ceased beating entirely and he took a step back. “You're not really breaking up with me, are you?”

Seong looked down at the ground. “Yes, I really am. I'm sorry Ren.” She didn't look up until she heard the door to her apartment slam. Seong raised her head up slowly, allowing the tears to stream from her eyes freely as her heart slowly broke because she had just broken the heart of the love of her life, and her best friend.

Ren didn't make it very far before a choked sob escaped his mouth against his will. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to cover up the choked sounds but failing miserably. He stumbled blindly in the direction of Nu'Est's dorm, his legs weak and eyesight obscured by unshed tears. By some miracle he reached the dorm and got inside without being spotted or asked any questions by people on the street who wanted to know why he looked like he was about to cry. But once he was inside the dorm and saw Aron sitting on the couch watching a movie, the dam that was barely containing his raging emotions broke, and the current of tears that he had been suppressing ran down his face freely.

Aron shot up from the couch and enveloped the maknae in a hug, instinct controlling his mind as he rubbed his friend's back. Ren didn't reciprocate the hug, instead he just stood there as stationary as a wall. It wasn't long before the rest of the members came into the living room, various expressions of shock on their faces. All except for JR who watched the entire ordeal with guilt written clearly on his face. He had saw the pictures - he had posted on his twitter asking people to stop photoshopping those pictures, but they hadn't. And now Ren had come home from Seong's house crying, and he knew, he just knew that she had broken up with him because of the pictures.

He hated seeing Ren heartbroken because of him, but there was nothing that he could do to take away his friend's pain. Instead he went back to his room and locked the door, throwing himself down on his bed and grabbing his phone and headphones. He stared at the ceiling and blasted music to drown out the sounds of Ren's heart wrenching sobs that he couldn't help but feel like he was fully responsible for and soon fell into a restless sleep.

Two weeks passed and it was obvious to Ren's band-mates that he was far from okay. He refused to come out of his room other than to eat and use the bathroom, unless they had practice. His dancing and singing were as lifeless as his eyes, which were near devoid of emotion. He barely spoke to the members outside of what was necessary, and none of them could take the near silent state that the door stayed in constantly. As much as Baekho and Minhyun had messed with him about being a chatterbox, they missed their noisy friend.

As much as they hated attaching more labels to the poor kid, they all knew in their hearts that the only diagnosis for Ren's sudden change in behavior was depression. He slept half of the time that they weren't practicing and spent the other half of the time struggling like hell to fall asleep. He ate but it was only when the members knocked on his bedroom door and reminded him to, then he went straight back to his room and locked the door.

It was weighing the most heavily on JR, whose guilt was causing his already hard to contain temper to erupt. He spent a lot of his angry energy by working out at the gym. It kept him from blowing up on one of the members or the manger, but it could't take away the guilty feeling in his heart. In a rare moment where Ren had spoken since the breakup with Seong, Ren tried to assure JR that he didn't blame him for what happened, but the leader couldn't help but feel that he was just saying that to spare him the guilt.

It was that guilt that led him to Ren's door. He knocked on it lightly, and at first received no answer. Just as he was about to turn away, a quiet reply came from within. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” JR asked cautiously, expecting to be told no. A few heartbeats later he heard the door being unlocked from the other side, and then there was Ren, his long black hair disheveled and eyes slightly puffy. He had been crying again - it didn't take a genius to figure that out.

Ren sighed impatiently when JR didn't say anything. “What is it, Jonghyun?”

“Can we talk?”

Ren nodded and stepped aside, granting JR access to the room. The leader stepped into the normally neat space and found it in disarray, something unusual on its own. Ren sat down on the bed and JR took a seat beside him. Neither spoke for a few minutes until surprisingly, it was Ren who broke the silence. “You still blame yourself, don't you?”

“I can't help it. It was pictures of us that made her break up with you.”

“Yeah, but they were photoshopped. We've never kissed each other.”

“Doesn't mean that we haven't thought about it.” JR's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to let that slip out, but it was true.

“Seong doesn't know that I'm bisexual.”

Now that was a new piece of information that JR hadn't been aware of. “You never told her? Better yet, she's known you since you were born. How could she not know?”

“I didn't even know until about a year after we started dating, and I didn't really want to bring up that I realized I like dudes to my girlfriend. I thought it would scare her off... a bit like those pictures did I guess.” Ren laughed bitterly and shook his head.

JR sighed. “I know you're upset Ren, but we're worried about you.”

“I'm fine.”

“Are you though? You barely come out of your room except for when you have to. This is the most we've spoken since she broke up with you.”

“I said I'm fine, JR.”

“I know that you say that you're alright, but that doesn't mean that you really are, Minki.”

“Well, I am. Maybe you should learn how to trust me. I think I know when I'm okay or not.”

“If you think you're alright you're lying to yourself.”

“Will you just butt out? I'm fine - drop it already.” Ren sighed in exhaustion, even though he was more mentally tired than physically. He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. JR stood in place until he realized that Ren was waiting for him to leave. He sighed and obliged, closing Ren's door behind him. Only once he was gone did Ren lock the door and reach under his bed for the bottle of soju that he had stored under there in hopes of hiding it from his members. He had stolen it from Aron's liquor cabinet when the oldest member had left it unlocked.

He uncapped it and took a long swig, wincing at the burning sensation that it caused. His mind wandered back to the comments that seemed like they had bothered him so long ago about him looking like a girl. He had Seong to help him cope during that time, and now he was completely alone, left to read the comments against him by himself with no one to lessen the blow.

The comments had only gotten worse. Now they weren't just talking about him as a person. No, they were threatening his life. People who thought that he was gay or anything other than completely straight had been sending him death threats, threatening to kill him if they ever met him in person. He was terrified for his life and that was part of the reason that he barely came out of his room. It wasn't all because of Seong, even though he couldn't lie to himself and say that he wasn't depressed. He avoided the members because he knew that they would want him to see a counselor to get himself checked out so that he could get back to normal,but Ren couldn't see his life ever being normal again.

He had never considered suicide before, but as he sat on the floor of his dark room, locked away by himself, he felt like just maybe ending it all was the best option. With a shuddering breath he took another sip of the soju before putting the cap on and crawling back into bed to listen to some Lady Gaga to get his mind off of things. Even his favorite singer couldn't cheer up his dark mood.

Sleep mercifully claimed him a few moments later, but his sleep was far from restful. He dreamed of Seong leading a mob of people to Nu'Est's dorm and helping them kill him. He couldn't wake up and was forced to watch and feel it as the woman he loved ended his life.

But maybe dying wasn't so bad

#nu'est #ren #minhyun #baekho #jr #aaron #depression #mental health #kpop #pledis #choi minki #angst #long af

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unabashedrebel · 5 years

Text

Heart Wretching Reunions

It was hard to adjust. Hard to be among his people, among his home, of all the things so familiar. Yet there was no peace or comfort in it. Silvermoon was a far way aways from the stone walls that made up Stormwinds very own Stockades. But Kirollis almost seemed to miss them, as if he had adjusted to that way of life. Then again, almost any life seemed better then his own.

It had only been a week since he had rejoined his culture. When he wasn’t playing a spectre in his own apartment the rogue idly waited in his old stomping grounds for the next petty annoyance to come ruin his day- and oh had they come. Not much had changed in his time incarcerated save for himself. It had seemed that Quel’thalas was still standing, his associates still getting into trouble… but it was the furthest thing he cared about, even if he used them as a distraction in an endless battle with justifiable procrastination.

Even his own home felt foreign. He had tried to sleep, but insomnia was a beast he could not tackle. It was always the enemies that he couldn’t stick steel into that got the better of him, the ones that didn’t care for his words or his prowess, rendering him powerless to keep them at bay. He had tried to sleep in his lush bed, but ultimately it was far too comfortable to make him comfortable. Instead opting to make his residence on the couch. But even there sleep had evaded him as his mind drifted to all the harrowing things he had faced in just this year alone.

Teldrassil still haunted him. He could still hear the screams of the innocent giving their final breath involuntarily to the pangs of pain. They had watched their home, their loved ones, their very way of life go up in smoke- and he had been there to watch it happen. Despite whatever good intentions- their blood was on his hands simply by association. Fire had been something he saw every time he closed his eyes, a theme he didn’t think would leave him anytime soon.

Despite being gone for six months his abode was still spotless. Truly he had desperately hoped to find some signs of life. A misplaced blanket or dishes in the sink, he would even take the door left half open at this point. Anything that would indicate that Soriya hadn’t moved on after likely thinking him dead. The only bit of hope pointing in that direction being the plants she had set up around his apartment- not a single one had wilted.

As Kirollis laid lazily on his couch, battling off the latest bout of intrusive thoughts that seemed to never truly go away. His mind squarely sat on the topic bothering him the most. How could he explain this to Soriya? How could he look her in the eye and tell her the horrible things he had done in the name of the Horde. Of the lives snuffed out by his ignorance, of listening to orders, of not knowing when to walk away. Would she look at him the same? Would she forgive him?... he wasn’t even sure he deserved it if she had. How could he even justify leaving her for six months without a word, without a desperately scrawled letter mailed from Stormwind. How could he explain how afraid he was of what she would think…

Tick, tick tick, clink…

The sound of the lock turning to his front door was enough to have Kirollis jump up from his lounging position. Though the surprise was quickly overtaken by realization; there was only one person who ever used the seldomly passed out set of keys to his front door. His ears drooped at the revelation as it seemed those conversations would be had whether he was ready to have them or not. His stomach churned and turned with uncertainty as his heart dropped into that endless pit. He wanted to call out, to say he was alright, to spill forth all the emotions he had been bottling up for the better part of a year. But those words never came as the lump in his throat only grew larger.

Soriya had slipped into the apartment with a sigh, closing the door behind her. Her movements were sluggish, lacking that optimism that wore proudly like a badge of honor. A frown sat on her lips, replacing the vibrant smile she liked to boast. If only for a moment it seemed like a raincloud had been following her around as she drifted in one of the only places she had called home. There was no more hope left in her that Kirollis would be waiting safe and sound, but still she had to check. She had to make sure.

“D-dad…?” The young monk stated as she finally caught eyes with her long since missing father. “Dad?!” Dropping her dufflebag to the floor with little care she would rush over to the rogue. Tears already welling in her teal eyes. There was no pause, or stop to her sprint, not until she was close enough to throw her arms around him in a tight hug.

Kirollis couldn’t move, he was stunned, stunted, and utterly unprepared. Slowly his arms came back around to complete the hug. The only thing he had wanted in months, and yet it felt hollow. Undeserved. After all the pain and suffering he had caused her, that she so simply embraced him. Desperately he searched for the right words to say, but they never came.

“Dad?” Soriya repeated as she pulled back to look at him. Those tears of hers already streaming down her cheeks. “Wh-... where were you?”

The question only served to tense him, to grind those slow movements to a halt. “I…” He managed to get out this time. But the overwhelming silence that seemed to suck everything out of the room was all that remained.

“Where were you?!” Soriya exclaimed. There was no anger in her voice, but the hurt and discourse that had been pent up for six months came tumbling out. “I thought you were dead! I thought you just left! You can’t.. You can’t just…” There wasn’t anything she could do to hold back the outpour of emotions as the young woman openly sobbed. Slamming a balled hand against his chest she finally mustered enough to say, “You can’t just leave me. Everyone always leaves me. You can’t be one of them.” She pleaded.

It broke his heart in ways he never knew existed. To see his daughter, the picture of composure break down in his arms. To know he caused her so much hurt, and only because he was hurting himself. It was selfish and cruel, and now he could see it for exactly what it was. He could see himself for exactly what he was. Every despairing thought he had about himself was proven right in that moment, and it was too much for him to handle.

“I was scared.” Kirollis admitted in a quiet tone. He could never lie to her, especially not now. She needed to know why and at the very least he could not deny her that. “I was scared you would hate me.”

With her face flush and wet streaks running down her cheeks, Soriya still looked surprised by the concession. Her brows knit together as she desperately tried to make sense of his words. How could she hate him?

“What I did… what happened at Teldrassil…” He forced out, but failed to articulate the nightmare that he had been living. The same one he could never quite put to words, even in less emotionally charged situations. “I didn’t think you would look at me the same. Like I was your hero or something. How could you look up to a guy like me…”

It took Soriya a few moments to process just what he had said. She understood what had happened, what war looked like in its most ugly form. She had even mulled over the idea that he had fell in the battle for Darkshore. An infinitely worse scenario in her mind. “... I don’t care what happened. What you did…” She mustered the courage to say. “I just… I don’t want to be alone again.”

Kirollis hung his head down at the statement. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his own fears outweigh Soriyas. What kind of parent was he? To leave her here, alone, worrying about his existence and wishing he was simply there. Perhaps the only person on the entire planet who only wanted him around for his company, for the unconditional love that highlighted their relationship.

“I’m so sorry Soriya…” The rogues voice cracked in earnest as he pulled her close into another hug. “I am so, so, sorry that I hurt you.” That embrace only tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I won’t leave you again. I was an idiot to in the first place. I...I... don’t want to be alone either.” A sniffle escaped him before he continued to speak, “I was so worried you would hate me I went and did the same thing my parents did to me- I ignored you. I ignored how you felt and…all that did was make things worse. You deserve better.”

“Shut up…” Soriya muttered. “Just… just tell me a stupid story about it.” She pleaded as she continued to quietly sob into his shoulder.

Kirollis couldn’t help but crack a weak smile at her words. Perhaps the only genuine one he had worn in months, “Alright…” With a deep breath he started, “Well it started in Ashenvale….”

#stories #story #rp #canon #kirollis & soriya

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sftd-official · 5 years

Text

Moments like these, Fal-Mai cursed how little basic knowledge she had.

In an effort to try to get more into this “friendship” business, Fal-Mai had wanted to make tea for her and Eliza—maybe just some for her and Sammy if she lost her nerve. Having at least the knowledge that she should head over to the Mess Hall if she wanted to prepare food of any kind, she found herself crouched down, starting at a variety of machines she couldn’t discern the purpose of. Well, one of them with a glass pot underneath it she somewhat recognized, if a little grimly; she’d seen it in cleared havens before, and it seemed to be a bit of a staple.

Fal-Mai had tea before. She’d just never been taught how to make it. Hot water had to be involved somewhere. Was there a machine for it? Where were their stores of tea? Was she even looking in the right location? Honestly, Fal-Mai didn’t even know where to start, and it was a little demoralizing. Not knowing how to do something as simple as prepare tea was humbling, and told her how little common knowledge she possessed.

“Fancying a cup of coffee, Assassin?”

A familiar voice made her turn her head, watching as Bradford walked up behind her. Looking back to the machine in front of her, she sighed. “I was hoping to make tea for Eliza and I, but... I fear I do not know how.”

“Yeesh. Elders didn’t teach you Chosen much, did they?” Bradford came to stand next to her with an empty mug, setting it down on the counter. He joined her in staring at the machine. “Of course they’d empty my brew and not make a new pot,” he grumbled, before grabbing the glass container under it. “Here. Eliza’s not much for tea—and I don’t know how to make it either, anyways—so I’ll show you how to make the coffee she likes.”

Fal-Mai followed after Bradford as he went over to the sink, putting the glass pot under the faucet and turning the water on. “You’re going to want water, first of all. You’d want to shoot for better quality where can, but, not much we can do about that here.”

“Is the Avenger’s water not filtered?”

“It is,” he said, gesturing, “but enough to make it safe to drink. Lily’s the one in charge of maintaining that, but Raymond’s the one who came up with the filter. Does a pretty good job, at least—haven’t heard anyone complain about the water.” He sighed. “Yet.”

Raymond was an unfamiliar name to her. She almost sought out the Network in order to place him, but decided the source she needed to ask was right here, anyway. “—who is Raymond?”

“Kinda surprised you don’t know.” Bradford picked up the now-full pot, walking back over to the machine. He lifted a top part of it and continued to talk as he poured the water in. “He was Lily’s old man. Responsible for a lot of the features on this ship before Lily got ahold of it. Was there at First Contact alongside Eliza and I.”

Ah. So he was the head of engineering before Lily took his place. “Where is he, now?”

Bradford was quiet for a moment, emptying the pot and putting it back in its place. He responded after a bit. “Gone. I don’t know what happened exactly but he went along with some of our personnel to try to make a difference, out there, promising to keep in touch. We... we lost contact with him after a while, and it didn’t take long to figure out the tower he was keeping holed up in got raided by ADVENT. Nobody survived that I knew of.”

The answer made Fal-Mai hush up with her questions for the moment. She hoped Bradford didn’t see her as a nuisance for asking so many. Eliza had said it herself; how was she going to learn if she never asked? Still, she felt the need to apologize. “I’m sorry. Had I known, I would not have asked so callously.”

Bradford shook his head, reaching up into a cabinet and taking out a clear container filled with dark brown, almost black powder. The label read “DEATH RATTLE COFFEE.” “Don’t be. Never going to know if you don’t ask—and I figured it was the case, anyway.” Seems Bradford and Eliza were of like minds on a few things. He gestured to the coffee machine, bringing her attention back to it. “Before you put the grounds in, check to make sure there’s a filter in there.” That must be the white, thin, paper-like object in the machine. “Seems someone was decent enough to replace it. If you need more, there’s some in the cabinet with the grounds.”

He pulled out a drawer, grabbing a spoon. “You’re going to want to fill the filter up to a certain degree. I don’t know how many tablespoons—I try not to dirty those so the cooks have them clean. After a while, you learn to eyeball it.” He opened the container and started to fill the filter. It was then that the smell of the grounds hit Fal-Mai—the face she made must’ve been funny, as Bradford looked back at her and chuckled. “Yeah, my mix isn’t for the unprepared sort. You build up a tolerance to it—but hell, it’ll keep you awake far longer than adrenaline would.”

Humans were very, very strange creatures. “You would ‘build up a tolerance’ to something like this?”

“Coffee’s got caffeine, Fal-Mai. We need caffeine to stay awake around here, and we’ve grown to the point of needing some very hard stuff.” After a bit of filling the filter, he pointed to it. “You’ll want this much of the grounds in there if you’re making a full pot—which we tend to do, since anyone can stop by and make themselves a cup.” He closed the lid and hit a few buttons, and Fal-Mai could hear mechanical parts in it come to life. “—think I heard Mordenna wanting to tweak this thing so it’d brew faster. I’m all for it, but I’m almost afraid to hand ol’ reliable off to him.”

“He is a competent engineer, if nothing else,” she remarked. Her gun was thanks to him, after all... and perhaps she really did need to hand it over to him so he could tweak it. She owed him that much after pestering him with insensitive questions. “As... interesting as his projects may get, I believe it would be a wise choice.”

“Fair enough. Only problem is that we’re going to be without a coffee maker for as long as he’s working on it, and I imagine that’d cause some people to riot.” An almost-black liquid started to fill the pot, and the smell filled the room. “That’s it for the coffee, really, if you like it straight like I do. Eliza doesn’t, so I’ll show you what to add when this is done brewing.”

Fal-Mai contemplated for a moment before coming at Bradford with her next question. “How long have you known Eliza?”

Bradford whistled at that, scratching his stubble. “That’s a question. We met in boot camp where I had to apologize for one of my dumbass friends for thinking he could pick a fight with a woman like her. Obviously, he hadn’t met Eliza. He got court martialed later for something related, so he wasn’t cut out for it all in the first place. We were pretty quick friends after that before XCOM came around and recruited the both of us to the program.” His expression turned grim. “She doesn’t like to talk about what she did there much, so I won’t either. She got taken at First Contact, and I escaped, but only because of her. To answer your question? Over thirty years.”

Thirty years. Fal-Mai had only known Eliza as she did now for a month or so. Bradford was father ahead of her than she could ever possibly hope to be. Crossing her arms, she looked down. “It must be nice to have known her for so long.”

“To be fair,” he muttered, “twenty of those were apart from her. And...” He sighed. “Eliza was... different, before those twenty. Sterner, to put it lightly. How to put this...” He looked to Fal-Mai, mouth set into a line. “Old Eliza probably wouldn’t have given you guys the chance she has.”

Oh. That was certainly a way to put it into perspective, even if Fal-Mai couldn’t imagine an Eliza like that. She nodded at the information. “I... understand, even if I cannot fathom her being like that. She’s just...”

“Kind? Soft? Has an ear for anyone who needs listened to?” Bradford looked back to the pot, filling up with coffee. “You and me both, Fal-Mai. I was shocked, myself, those first few days of her being out. I’d gotten used to the Eliza of old, so to have her going around, being genuinely kind to Tygan and Lily? Took some getting used to, but I wasn’t complaining.” He gave a tired smile. “She made me look like a fool. I’d built the soldiers up on expecting a tough, no-nonsense Commander, and the first thing she did was sit down, introduce herself, and get to know all of them. Half of them thought Eliza was pulling a joke, the other half thought it was me being a joker.”

Bradford saying that with a smile on his face truly told Fal-Mai she didn’t have the breadth of experience to make such a phenomenon make sense. Then again, when she thought over Eliza... she wanted to smile, too. Even at more somber memories such as her comforting Fal-Mai in the Resistance Ring after what she had learned of her creation. Was Eliza just that kind of person who could make anyone smile?

He chuckled, leading Fal-Mai to discover she was smiling. She looked away, pouting. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Bradford assured, “Eliza’s got this aura about her that tends to make people feel a bit better.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure that might be literal, nowadays, but that’s beside the point. Whatever you thought of Eliza before, with the Elders, I think it’s safe to discard that thinking.” He paused. “Actually, I don’t think I ever got around to asking why you wanted to make Eliza tea. Something special?”

Fal-Mai’s face further heated up. Truth be told, she’d been thinking of Eliza fondly before she had arrived here, and wanted to do something for her. Making tea was about the only thing she could fathom of, since Sammy was the one who introduced her to the idea indirectly. But, as with Sammy’s reaction to reading her fondness for the Commander, something told her that she shouldn’t tell him the actual reason. “No reason,” she muttered, “other than wishing to repay her how I can for taking me in as she has.”

“Good on you.” Seems Bradford believed her. “Always nice to have someone caring for Eliza rather than the other way around. I take pride in my job, but that woman needs to see she can lean on other people instead of having to be strong by herself all day.” He settled his hands on his hips. “Maybe if she hears it from more people outside of me, she’ll start to believe it.”

Yes, Fal-Mai remembered the incident, not too long ago. Even though her brothers had openly—and correctly—guessed that she was there in the Infirmary, she wasn’t going to reveal her hand. Eliza... she hadn’t guessed she could break down like that. The thought squeezed her chest, and made her want to lie beside her as Mordenna had. “I will see what I can do, Central. I... do not wish for her to suffer.”

“You and me both, Assassin. You and me both.”

Some silence spanned between the two of them, and it was long enough that the pot finished filling. Clearing his throat to break the quiet, he grabbed another mug out of the cabinets, as well as a container of what looked like sugar. He went over to the refrigerator, grabbing a gallon of milk. He came back with it and started to pour out the coffee into both mugs. “Eliza never has her coffee straight. Some days it’s just sugar, some days it’s just sugar and milk. Considering she’s negotiating with some havens today, I’d say she needs both.”

Done filling the mugs, he took the milk and poured a bit in, Fal-Mai noting down the exact amount in her head. He then spooned in some sugar. “Three is usually her gambit, and I don’t blame her. If you’re not me or Lily, you kind of need to dull this stuff down to make it drinkable. Got all that?”

She nodded. “I am sure I will remember it for the future. Thank you, Bradford.”

Bradford began to place all the components back, including the coffee pot. “Happy to help. And... far be it from me to say ‘stop worrying Eliza so much,’ but what I do want to say is... I think I’d be willing to hear you out regarding what might be troubling you. The impression of you I get is that you’re genuine, but need to ask a lot of questions to get up to speed, which is understandable. You understand what I’m saying?”

Fal-Mai blinked. It wasn’t as if she was adverse to the offer. Bradford simply did not strike her as the type to care. Perhaps it was the interaction between him and Mordenna that fostered this. “... I do, Bradford, but you will have to excuse me if I do not think you as the kind of person who would be concerned with a Chosen’s worries.”

“Me neither, a while ago. But I think Eliza’s rubbing off on me.”

She nodded slowly. “Eliza... is a good influence, I believe.”

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Still, we have a deal?”

She didn’t think she could fully confide in Bradford just yet... but there was a question or two brewing in her mind that she believed she couldn’t ask Eliza herself. Perhaps he would be a good alternative. “I believe we do. Thank you again, Bradford.”

“No problem.” He picked up his mug, sliding Eliza’s to her. “She should still be in the Resistance Ring right about now. She could probably use the pick-me-up right about now.”

Picking up the mug, Fal-Mai gave Bradford a gentle smile. “I will see to it that she receives it.”

Taking a sip of his own mug, Bradford bobbed his head. “Don’t forget to tell her who taught you.”

Still smiling, Fal-Mai returned the nod and walked out of the Mess Hall, keeping the mug steady. Bradford, despite his appearances, struck Fal-Mai as a kind person, almost in Eliza’s vein of being. Perhaps he was more worn from the passage of years and showed it more than she did, but there was a certain warmth to the conversation they had held. It left Fal-Mai considering his offer further.

She eventually made her way to the Resistance Ring, tapping the panel and stepping on it. The screen at the end of the room was darkened, and Eliza was slumped across one of the couches. Seeing Fal-Mai enter, she perked up. “Oh! Hey, Fal-Mai. What do you need?”

The Assassin shook her head. “I require nothing of you, Eliza, other than to take what I offer you.”

Fal-Mai walked over and offered Eliza the mug. Recognizing what it was, Eliza’s face lit up and she took it, taking a quick sip. “Oh, Fal-Mai, you’re a doll. Thank you.” The praise... certainly was unwelcome, but Fal-Mai had to fight back a blush. After another sip and some blowing on the coffee to get it to cool down, she looked to her. “—I didn’t take you to know my blend.”

“Bradford taught me.”

Eliza grinned. “Aww. You and that man are real treasures, you know that?” More praise? That blush was getting harder and harder to fight. “You know what? Maybe I need something of you, Fal-Mai. Mind sitting down?”

“N-not at all, Commander.” With that, Fal-Mai gently sat down beside her. To her surprise, Eliza softly lifted her arm and leaned against her side, relaxing.

“Oh, good god. Fal-Mai, running relations with havens is a mistake. Don’t do it. You’d think after this long in the war and ‘taking out’ three whole Chosen I’d have more of a bargaining chip up my sleeve but you would be wrong and so much more.”

Having Eliza this close was very distracting, and Fal-Mai’s arm draped over her shoulders was even more so. Still, she did realize what Eliza was doing—she was venting to her. Bradford mentioned this would be a good thing. She nodded quickly. “I-I would think that they would learn some gratitude, but... I am only one year old.”

That got a laugh out of Eliza, who tried to keep her mug straight as she did. “Hah! I wish I had that specific brand of optimism.” She took another sip, face falling a bit. “It’s. It’s alright if I just gripe at you, right?”

Not knowing too much what to do, Fal-Mai found herself patting Eliza’s side. “Of course, Commander. I... believe you could use the relaxation.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I could.” Even as she said it, Eliza didn’t seem to believe it. Still, she remained leaned against Fal-Mai, a smile returning to her face in a moment of quiet. It turned into some form of annoyance as she went on. “Ok, where was I. Right. This joker called Bastion thinks that Edgar is some sort of bargaining tool for supplies! Apparently he’s got it in his head that he’s the one who led us to Edgar, when I distinctly remember it being Edgar’s choice to join up with us. I cannot imagine...”

As Eliza continued, Fal-Mai found herself relaxing in the situation. Eliza’s closeness still stirred something in her chest, and she found herself wanting to know more about these feelings she had. She felt as if she wanted to hold Eliza closer and tell her secrets, or even teach her what she knew of her own weaponry. She couldn’t place anything on what it was she felt, but the feeling made her happy. Eliza made her happy, and that was all Fal-Mai could ask for.

#sftd excerpts #fal mai neylor #john bradford #eliza o'leary #fal-mai tries to make tea and ends up making coffee #thanks jack_kellar for the suggestion!

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