#//He felt so bad; but she understood he was still emotionally Reeling and needed a bit of support before he got back up on his own

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya was definitely the kind of kid who never threw tantrums and was willing to accept the bare minimum for everything, thinking he didn’t deserve to press for more (at first bc he thought he’d be kicked out if he did, then bc he just felt so guilty and uneasy doing so out of habit).

It’s only thanks to Diluc and especially Adelinde that he eventually came to advocate for himself more.

[welllpthisishappening]

Hey there! You said to message you about what we're reading, and I felt like chatting about that (hopefully you won't mind). I really love hearing your thoughts on various books.

I've been reading the Rokesby series by Julia Quinn (Bridgerton prequels) which I am really having fun with. I'm also reading The Girl from Everywhere by Heidi Heilig, Darling by K. Ancrum, Impossible by Nancy Werlin, The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams, The Bookshop of Yesterdays by Amy Meyerson, and An Unexpected Earl by Anna Harrington (second of a series called Lords of the Armory) As you can tell, I am really bad at picking just one book at a time!

What are you reading at the moment?

Please come here to talk about books with me whenever. I promise absolutely never mind. And gosh, do you have a lot of things to talk about! I am impressed, honestly. I would never be able to keep all those plots and storylines straight!

I'm a strictly one-book-at-a-time kinda lady. Which is not great for the number of books on my Kindle, actually. Because I have this horrible habit of just downloading them, so I don't forget that I want to read them, and then I wind up with, like, 15 books on there, and I make Justin pick a number as to what I read next or give him a general idea of what the genre is and make him pick from that.

I am horrible at making decisions, you see.

As to what I've been reading recently, I've been a bit all over the place. I mean, there's been kissing in.... all of them, but the type of kissing varies. Some of my recent ones ,though:

the last in a series where someone on this football team falls in love with some quirky™ girl, and the sports descriptions are only kind of incorrect

a historical romance that was truly TOP TIER where the main characters used to flirt in their first season, but then she got married because her father was going to die and he wanted her protected™ but the guy was an unfeeling, uninterested jerk and then he died and now his sister is threatening to take her children away and so she needs to prove there's a responsible male presence in the home, so she and her lawyer!brother devise a scheme to fake an engagement, and who is the perfect candidate for this fake arrangement than her former flirting partner who is now a decided rake and in need of funds???

a set of short stories set in the daevabad verse, which is a fantasy trilogy i read last year and LOVED, but it is INTENSE and the world building is vast and i'm still not sure i understood the first book at all, but the stories were gorgeous and some of them made me cry

the sequel to a modern-day supernatural book that has witches and demons and werewolves and everyone falls in love and i liked the first one way more

another sequel, but this one is part of a series that's a spinoff of a different series and is focused on this one candian family and they own a ranch and everyone is decidedly emotionally stunted and needs heaps of therapy but they fall in love really well and kiss even better and the last one was my favorite because they were idiots! and pining for years! and the dude played hockey

If you can't tell, I've been traveling a lot. And spending a lot of time on team buses. And planes. And, so, I read. When I'm not making more Instagram reels.

[rye-views]

A Promised Land by Barack Obama. 8/10

I would recommend this book to my friends. I would reread this book.

There are certain things that Barack articulates that I’m thankful for. His over-optimism and feelings of eccentricity. I completely related to its isolating feelings even though it wasn’t the same situation and experience as mine. It’s nice to see something similar from someone different. I also liked his description of feeling everything in its entirety and how it was like a movie splice. I have felt this many times and it’s a beautiful way to describe it. I like how so much of what Barack says, thinks, and feels are so genuine and relatable. It's nice to see someone articulate and empathize this well, esp. from a man and a man in power.

I love learning that Michelle was disappointed by the situation caused by his choices at times. Other things were more important at the time and nice to see it be relevant.

It’s interesting to see the difference between this book and “Becoming.” They have different aims, but it still shows me a difference between a man and woman. I also notice that when men are described, it’s always physical. When it’s women, it’s more character and personality.

Crazy how intelligent and emotionally aware Barack is. When he stated how he couldn't just pick and choose the good things of Reverend Wright's church, I was like true and wow.

The things that Toot taught Barack is what someone should've taught me as I grew up.

Barack comparing the rides to Noah's Ark is amusing.

When he mentions translations of what the Big 4 are saying, I think about how we can't be straightforward in politics. Why not?

It took me forever to read this because I really wanted to absorb the knowledge. There's a lot of events that are covered and things I had no idea about. I love how this catalogues so much of history that were relevant to my lifetime.

Memorable Quotes: “gives even my roughest drafts too smooth a gloss and lends half-baked thoughts the mask of tidiness” “I needed to focus on only those things to come.” “Much of what I read I only dimly understood” “a bond between those who had once seemed far apart.” “Whatever it was, I knew I wasn’t ready.” “An America that could explain me.” “I suffered rejections and insults often enough to stop fearing them.” “Enthusiasm makes up for a host of deficiencies.” “Failure and want were all around you.” “It should have been enough.” “but my mother was never one to see hard work as anything but good.” “On top of my sorrow, I felt a great shame.” “There’s a physical feeling, a current of emotion that passes back and forth between you and the crowd, as if your lives and theirs are suddenly spliced together, like a movie reel, projecting backward and forward in time, and your voice creeps right up to the edge of cracking, because for an instant, you feel them deeply; you can see them whole. You’ve tapped into some collective spirit, a thing we all know and wish for – a sense of connection that overrides our differences and replaces them with a giant swell of possibility – and like all things that matter most, you know the moment is fleeting and that soon the spell will be broken.” “To be a workhorse not a show horse – that was my goal.” “I had become a mere conduit through which people might recognize the value of their own stories, their own worth, and share them with one another.” "Yes we can." “the personal really was political” “I had to listen to, and not just theorize about, what mattered to people.” “it wasn’t so much what he did as how he made you feel. Like anything was possible. Like the world was yours to remake.” “It’s hard, in retrospect, to understand why you did something stupid.” “In fact, you shouldn’t even count on my vote.” “What do you consider your place in history?” “I could take a punch. And I didn’t give up.” “I knew I could afford to be patient.” “but the only way for Daddy to disguise himself is if he has an operation to pin back his ears.” “Forgotten people and forgotten voices remained everywhere.” “the more troops would become targets of an enemy they often could not see and did not understand.” “The power to inspire is rare. Moments like this are rare. You think you may not be ready, that you’ll do it at more convenient time. But you don’t choose the time. The time chooses you.” “people were moved by emotion, not facts.” “Beneath the low-key person and deep convictions, he just plain liked the combat.” "defined not by what they are but what they can never be." "To the relief of his keepers, the bear became accustomed to captivity." "he understood better than most the complications of race, religion, and family, and how good and bad, love and hate, might be hopelessly tangled in the same heart" "She was one of those quiet heroes that we have all across America." "But I worry that my memories of that night, like so much else that's happened these past twelve years, are shaded by the images that I've seen, the footage of our family walking across the stage, the photographs of the crowds and lights and magnificent backdrops." "a keeper of values we'd once thought ordinary but had learned were more rare than we had ever imagined." ""It's going to be hard to get the public excited about food stamps and repaving roads," Axe said. "Not real sexy."" "This time I said nothing, admiring his occasional, almost endearing ability to state the obvious." "You must be under the mistaken impression that I care." "all of them unified only in their common desire to be somewhere else." "ready to die for eternal joy--or maybe just a taste of something better." "But make no mistake, it was weird." "the unspoken regrets." "my supporters lacked all conviction, while my opponents were full of passionate intensity." "Michelle was someone who started from the heart and not the head, from experience rather than abstractions." "I wanted to believe that the ability to connect was still there. My wife wasn't so sure." “The

audacity of hope.” "Sometimes your most important work involved the stuff nobody noticed." "forgotten under the accumulation of the new joys and paints that make up a life." "you learn to improvise to meet your objectives--or at least to cut your losses." "They would take for granted that their aunt was on the U.S. Supreme Court, shaping the life of a nation--as would kids across the country. Which was fine. That's what progress was like." "Did they miss the rhythms of ordinary life? Were they lonely? Did they sometimes feel a jolt in their heart and wonder how it was that they had ended up where they were?" "I reminded myself that every president felt saddled with the previous administration's choices and mistakes, that 90 percent of the job was navigating inherited problems and unanticipated crises. Only if you did that well enough, with discipline and purpose, did you get a real shot at shaping the future." "Was it possible that abstract principles and high-minded ideals were and always would be nothing more than a pretense, a palliative, a way to beat back despair, but no match for the more primal urges that really moved us, so that no matter what we said or did, history was sure to run along its predetermined course, an endless cycle of fear, hunger and conflict, dominance and weakness?" "meant to be a reminder--in a place premised on hate and intolerance--of the common humanity we share." "A man making up for things." "For war was contradiction, as was the history of America." "To be known. To be heard. To have one's unique identity recognized and seen as worthy. It was a universal human desire" "pleasures that cost nothing, belonged to no one, and were accessible to all." "I suppose, when the world slows down, your strivings get pushed to the back of your mind." "whether in my seeming calm as crises piled up, my insistence that everything would work out in the end, I was really just protecting my self--and contributing to her loneliness." "It was a lonely thought at a lonely time." "You never looked as smart as the ex-president did on the sidelines." "Get exposed to other people's truths, I thought, and attitudes change." "It wasn't often, I thought, that a true act of conscience is recognized that way." "their struggles and resentments troubling but remote." "are mere conduits for the deep, relentless currents of the times or whether we're at least partly the authors of what's to come." "contemplating the knife's edge between perceived success and potential catastrophe" "daily, unheralded acts of people who weren't seeking attention but simply knew what they were doing and did it with pride." "She makes me better as a person and better on the page."

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Runaan and Ethari had an argument before Runaan left??

That’s the rumor. I really don’t think it was anywhere as dramatic as it sounds, though, because they literally kissed and made up before Runaan left. Runaan initiated that kiss, and then Ethari didn’t want it to end. That’s not how you kiss someone you’re really angry with.

I think it was more of a long term discussion where neither side could really convince the other of their viewpoint, but they kept trying, because their own perspective was so very important to them. Let’s break it down:

Ethari looked at Runaan’s plan to take Rayla on his mission and saw hiw 15 year old daughter being asked to kill. Ethari’s emotionally in tune with others, and especially with Runaan and Rayla. And he was correct in his assessment that Rayla was too good-hearted for the work of an assassin. He knew she wouldn’t be up for it, no matter what she said. And if she couldn’t perform her duty, see, that put Runaan in danger. And his whole team. And their honor. And maybe Xadia. It’s that big-ass domino meme. 

On the other hand, if Rayla did kill Marcos, then she’d have taken a life at the age of 15, and maybe Ethari knows exactly what that does to someone because that happened to Runaan, too. Even if it didn’t, Ethari knows Rayla and loves her, and he wouldn’t want her to take on such a burden for the wrong reasons. Because she was--vengeance instead of impartial justice. And Runaan couldn’t see that either.

Runaan looked at his plan and saw a near-cosmic alignment of opportunities that put him in the driver’s seat when it came to Rayla’s personal happiness, family honor, respect, and love for all her parents. He was probably the one who said Yeah we have to ghost Rayla’s parents, those are the rules. But he knew how deeply that hurt Rayla, and it hurt him, too. He saw Rayla’s demand to go with him on the mission to Katolis as a way to help her heal her hurts. To avenge her cowardly parents, to find an honorable purpose for her life, and to be able to trust that Runaan, as one of her two remaining parents, actually had her back and listened to her and didn’t treat her like a child. 

Runaan wanted desperately to be the cool dad for once, and with his mission being what it was, everything was aligning for him to get that chance. Aaravos himself couldn’t have written a better trap for Runaan. He fell right into it. He wanted so badly to help Rayla that he didn’t listen to his husband for once. This one time, he wanted to be the one who knew Rayla’s heart better. 

But he didn’t.

See though, I don’t think this was a quick argument. There were five months between the egg being taken and Runaan’s mission heading out. I think that, as Runaan trained Rayla with mission-specific skills, and as Ethari made her those butterfly swords--if he hadn’t already--as each of them progressed as if Runaan’s mission were totally gonna happen the way Runaan wanted, they were quietly discussing it with each other. Maybe nightly. But I bet the conversation had its ups and downs. 

Ethari seeing Rayla come back from her first full moon night of assassin training, and she’s grinning so intensely, and his heart just squeezes, and he won’t talk to Runaan for a few hours.

Runaan hoping to sway him into the right mood for listening, and Ethari just deflects the conversation because he doesn’t want to mix business with pleasure, not with this topic.

Long walks in the forest where they each really feel understood, and they each hope to make more progress later.

Ethari raising his voice when no one else is home, and Runaan staying infuriatingly calm, dismissive even. Ethari probably broke something at some point, and then he felt really bad. Runaan never breaks anything.  But Ethari doesn’t give up, not when Rayla’s safety is at stake.

Searching for alternative plans--that’s Ethari. But Runaan shoots them all down. He’s already committed his honor to the mission. He can’t turn back now.

Ethari realizing he’s not gonna win this one, so he does everything he can to keep his family safe, from blades to flowers to portable enchantments. He has a really long list of ideas, and he and Runaan start negotiating over how many it’s honorable to take, and which ones.

Ethari finds other details to fret over--how’s the training going, will she be ready, how can I help, what are you changing to accommodate a newbie? Runaan gives him things to do, things he can control, ways to help. Because their house is still reeling from ghosting Rayla’s parents, and there’s a teenage assassin on the loose at all hours.

Somehow, they get through the five months. Runaan and Ethari’s conversations smooth out. They’re just discussing degrees of compromise now. Ethari was never going to get Runaan to change his mind. Not Runaan, the Moonshadowiest Moonshadow ever. So he resigns himself to his fate--worrying at home and watching his flowers float. And he sends his family off into the unknown. He loves them dearly. He’s given them everything they’ll accept to keep them safe and help them succeed quickly, so they can come home again. And he just has to trust Runaan, trust that pride and confidence and skill, to bring Rayla home safe. 

Because Ethari would rather have Rayla and Runaan home again with Rayla having killed someone under Runaan’s tutelage, than not to have them home again at all. Though I’m sure he hoped that Runaan would never need to ask Rayla to kill anyone at all. Six assassins, after two targets. Ethari’s odds were good.

In the end, Ethari was a little too forgiving, and Runaan was a little too overconfident and stubborn. But they made their peace with each other. It was what it was, and they found a way through it, for better or for worse. 

Because even when life handed them this great messy disaster, they didn’t let it come between them for very long. They found a way to muddle through as best they could. It wasn’t a good time, but they’re deeply committed to each other, and they have years of history, years of working together through other issues, to support their relationship through hard times..

And there at the last, nothing really mattered except how much they loved each other. 

[letsbenditlikebennett]

The Trail Begins || Ariana, Matty, & Simon

TIMING: After this (x) and this (x) PARTIES: @likeamattoutofhell @inconvenientsimonstrocity @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Simon find Ariana at Winn’s house when he goes to check up on him. They follow his trail to the cemetery to find a drunken Matty. 

Normally, Simon didn’t think too much whenever someone he was acquainted with suddenly deactivated their social media - it happened all the time; people got bored, wanted to start with a clean slate, this that or the other, but something about this one seemed… fishy to Simon as he drove out to Winn’s house. They had been talking recently and the tone through the conversation along with what he’d been able to piece together regarding Winn’s displayed personality suggested that he wasn’t the type to do this unless something bad happened. He didn’t know, maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he was already too attached to Winn though they met once and Winn didn’t leave the best impression on loyalty to him. He shook his head and pulled into the driveway where he noted that Winn’s car - or at least the one he thought was Winn’s - was missing. He turned towards the house and his olfactory senses were filled with Winn’s scent that he managed to recognise. Tilting his head slightly and with a swipe at his nose… already, he knocked on the door loudly. “Winn?” He called, his voice coming across clearly but not loudly.

After Blanche left, Ariana went into Winn’s house to discover the front door was totally unlocked and the place looked like it had been absolutely ransacked. Yeah, maybe fighting with Blanche in wolf form was a dumbass decision, but it wasn’t enough to warrant running off like this. She frowned, seeing that even Denny was gone. She was looking under a floorboard that had been pulled up when she could vaguely hear the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice calling. She jumped up and ran to the door. “Simon, is that you,” she asked before swinging the door open anyway. She knew the answer. With a puzzled look, she said, “Wait, what are you doing here? Okay, I guess you could be asking me the same thing, huh. Winn’s not here. Was going to try and sniff out where he went if you’d like to come along.”

To his… mild surprise, it wasn’t Winn that answered the door but Ariana and Simon glanced down at her, the look on his face suggesting as such. “Winn’s not here?” He asked, realising as they spoke that he was glad that he didn’t text Ariana - last time he wanted to investigate, he effectively got told that it was none of his business and that riled up something inside of him so he decided this time that he was just going to take action, unusual as that felt. BUT she was here and so was he. He peered over her at the interior of the house, already seeing the general disarray of it. “What happened? Where is he--” She just said he wasn’t here and that she was going to try to find him. Speaking of sniffing, he did and rubbed his nose again. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I’ll come,” He offered. At least he was being invited this time. “Got any leads?”

Even though Ariana didn’t believe there was any immediate danger, she still felt better having Simon come along with her. This whole thing left her head reeling and Simon was good at calming her down. She was pretty pissed at Winn for this stupid idea to begin with and every part of her wanted to give him a good smack for being an idiot. Simon could probably neutralize that side of her. He was pretty good about that. Stepping aside so he could come in, Ariana began to explain, “Well, he had the genius idea of sparring with our human friend… who is like, my size, as a fucking wolf. She was trying to get him to back down, but he didn’t, so she yeeted him into a tree and he lost control. And has now apparently run off because clearly that’s a great idea.” She shrugged at the mention of leads as she continued looking around the house, “My main instinct was to follow my nose.”

Simon listened intently as she ran the situation by him, feeling his brow furrow at the mention of getting into a spar with someone as small as Ariana. Arranged fights were fine, as a concept - few things trained better than a controlled fight such as wrestling or swordplay - but he couldn’t help but wonder what the goal was when someone who was Winn’s size as a human and possibly even bigger as a wolf got into a spar with a girl that size. He assumed SHE wasn’t a wolf, so the question of ‘why’ burned into him. The interior of the house was a mess, almost as though it had been looted, he observed as he walked around methodically and felt his old forensic mind taking the reins for just a few minutes, at least. What was he hiding under the floorboards that this scenario would prompt him to tear up? Something precious, he assumed, but no less secret. He had a feeling that whatever happened between Ariana’s friend and Winn had triggered some part of him into believing that here wasn’t good for him anymore - him or others. It happened often with children who ran away from home - sometimes rebelling, but almost always as a means to escape, to feel in control.

“Well, we know why he isn’t getting messages anymore,” Simon crouched on the ground and picked up the ruined phone. He didn’t want to be found or tracked? Why smash it other than in an aggressive action? “That’s probably our best bet,” Placing the phone back down and straightening up, Simon acknowledged Ariana’s suggestion, keeping his tone calm as he noted that Ariana seemed fired up about this; he fully understood why considering how emotionally invested she got when it came to the safety of her friends. “I’ll let you lead--” He cut himself off and turned to sneeze thrice into his elbow. “Sorry. The way,” He sniffled and pulled out a packet of tissues; the swirl of Ariana and Winn’s scents and Denny’s dander about the house (combined with Beans who now hopped up on all his furniture at home) must’ve caught up to him, he thought. “Your nose probably works better than mine, at the moment.” He said rather lightly, hoping to lift the mood at least a little - it was easier to think clearly when the aura wasn’t so dour.

Of all the people that could have showed up, Ariana was glad it was Simon. He was always so good at maintaining a level-head about things even though he could be a little spazzy. She loved him for it though. She watched as he looked around Winn’s home. Simon was able to pick up on more of the nuances than she had been. Part of her had still been so pissed off that he did something so reckless and then ran from it. What happened to being sure to reach out to him if she needed anything at all? She knew he was probably feeling out of sorts, guilty, or some other crazy combination of emotions, but this wasn’t the answer. The whole place paired with Simon’s word made it pretty clear he was running off which only served to make her more pissed off. “Clearly he took the time to deactivate his shit before smashing his phone. Because running off is such a great idea,” she huffed.

Ariana shook her head. There was no use in stewing in anger right now. Winn needed them and the longer they waited, the less likely it was that they’d find him. She let out a big sigh and said, “I know, I know. He’s going through a lot of his feelings right now. Doesn’t change the fact I’m mad at him.” She took in one last sniff of his scent before turning to Simon and directing, “Let’s go. The sooner we find him the better.” With her eyes closed, she walked ahead trying to pick up on the faint traces of himself he left behind. Her nose was leading the way and her feet were quick to follow.

“It’s okay to be mad and frustrated,” Simon remarked mildly, noting the younger girl’s emotions that were running high. He was being truthful; it was frustrating for him too, especially after having that conversation about sticking together and being honest with one another to Winn a couple days after the ‘pack meeting’ - he would wonder if that was a ‘Bitten’ issue but Lucas apparently did the same thing... Martyring himself because ‘no one would understand, no one can help’. “You’re doing well so far; just try to follow your anger with - here’s that word again - patience,” He gave a gentle, if watery smile to Ariana as the latter picked up the trail and motioned the way they were going as he tended to his face with a tissue. Being outside provided immediate relief - he was still learning about the double-edged sword that was the wolf’s immunity -  but he was still thankful that Ariana had the double-benefit of being a Born wolf and being unhindered by-- He sneezed again. Aaand again. Though he wanted to, he decided not to apologise for his body’s uncontrollable spasms, painful as that decision felt. Ariana was moving fast - that was good, that meant she was maintaining a trail and he kept up with her easily enough, taking advantage of her leading the way to look around each area they paused in as if to pick up some other clues of his own. Nothing so far… disappointing. At least they had a trail.

Ariana appreciated that Simon always had a knack for validating her emotions. It had a relaxing effect, just being there and understanding what she was feeling. “Thanks, I’ll try to remember the whole patience part.” It was easier said than done, but she could try at least. She didn’t believe Winn had acted maliciously, but damn was his string of poor decisions really frustrating. She could give him shit for this is all once they found him. The trail of scent kept her attention. It was faint, but if she kept sniffing she could follow it. The sound of sneezing registered behind her and she called out, “Bless you.” It seemed like he was sneezing more than usual today, but maybe, he’d forgotten to take his allergy meds. She fumbled around briefly with her backpack, still sniffing her way toward Winn, and pulled out some Claritin and a small bottle of water. She turned to him and held them out, “Here, hope these help.” Her focus shifted back to the trail that seemed to be leading straight toward Candleton Cemetery. Why would he come here of all places? Winn really did have a flair for the dramatics.

There was something about Ariana, something that made a small part of Simon think that all his talk and advice and unwarranted preaching was worth something. Ariana listened, which he learned a long time ago was all that most people wanted. He wondered if Winn felt that fractured communication as the duo made their way; that no one would listen or possibly even that there wasn’t anything he could say. Speaking of listening, he felt a small rush embarrassment as Ariana turned to give him the bottle of medication paired with the water, both of which he took gratefully with a smile. Clever Ariana, ready on all fronts. If there was one good thing to have come out of her being raised on the road, it was that she was probably prepared for anything, including when he himself was being an actual liability instead of the one he usually called himself when he was being self-critical. “Thank you, my dear,” He replied thickly but with no less gentleness, continuing to follow her as he looked down to study the dosage he’d need. Double? By the time he looked back up after taking… he didn’t know, like seven and downing half the bottle of water, they seemed to have found themselves in a cemetery… or at least outside of one. “What an unusual detour,” He said out loud, quirking an eyebrow. Had he paid a visit to a lost loved one? That just added more complications in Simon’s mind but he kept his thoughts to himself for now.

Ariana hoped the meds helped Simon feel a bit better. The being allergic to yourself thing had to be rough. Plus, he was with her and Winn’s house was also home to a dog. She thought of it in present tense still even though he insisted on running off. It angered her still, but right now, she was focused on finding him. “Yeah, this definitely wouldn’t be my first stop, but clearly he’s being a little dramatic. Maybe there’s someone he knows buried here though,” Ariana mused curiously. She picked up her pace, trying to find him. She could still vaguely smell him, but she couldn’t see him or Denny anywhere. Where the hell was he? She found her fists curling into balls, ready to hit the next tree she saw, but she’d refrain. Trees broke your hands and she didn’t need a cast to clash with her prom dress. His scent was fading and she desperately looked around the cemetery with Simon close behind her before she happened upon a man. She approached him slowly, not wanting to invade, and did her best to calmly say, “I’m sorry to bother you. I was looking for a friend of mine.”

Honestly, Matty was pretty sure this was the most trashed he’d been since, fuck, 1985, maybe. He’d managed to scrape himself out of that broken-down crypt, once night fell again - but not much further. Wasn’t like he had anywhere to be, though. Conveniently. So he’d settled in, still drifting on the far edge of all that tequila. And just, just starting to feel the ash burn out, into the usual fever. Shit, man. That’s where he’d been at, sitting back against some mossy, smashed up masonry, eyes screwed shut, shirt barely buttoned, when someone started talking. Out of the swirl of the comedown. Matty jerked, full-body about it, staring around at... a girl, and a guy. That’s it? Pretty regular looking. No stakes. Or swords. Solid. He sniffed, his skin itching. She was asking something. A friend of hers. “Sure, no, uh… no bother, that’s…” Oh. Oh, fuck. Their smell. Kinda musky? Fresh, though, layered over what was left of that werewolf, from earlier. Winn. Great. This - this was the pack, huh? Throwing a weak wave at the dude hovering close by, Matty rubbed a hand across his face, his nose, and shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, I’ve been kinda… checked out…” He licked his lips, dry, nervous. “What’s your friend like?”

The older wolf stayed relatively close to Ariana, managing to quiet himself down as they looked around the old graveyard. Simon hadn’t been to a graveyard since arriving in White Crest but he figured they didn’t often smell like… alcohol? The scent managed to trickle through what was left of his breathing passages and he turned his head just before Ariana found the apparent source. It wasn’t often he happened upon someone who looked almost as homeless as him but here they were. He stayed quiet as Ariana initiated the conversation, feeling himself tense up like he was readying to attack. But why? There didn’t seem to be anything particularly notable about this guy other than the convenience of Winn’s trail indiscriminately leading them to him. He was clearly not expecting to be awoken either and Simon noted the movements of his hands, the way his arms and body adjusted. Hungover? Perhaps dehydrated. Drug use? Maybe given the attention he was giving to his face, but too soon to tell. Simon forced himself to loosen up and he took a more casual stance next to Ariana, folding up the tissue he’d been using and putting his thumbs in his pockets. “He’s a bigger guy, well-shaped and at least part-Asian,” He started lightly, his tone warm, if still congested. “Facial hair, boisterous personality. Very, ah... “ He fell quiet-- well, quieter. “Very rambunctious. He appreciates attention.” He smiled slightly despite why they were there. With that description, he lifted the tissue once more as if it acted as a method to mute him, allowing Ariana to take the lead once more - this was technically her mission, after all.

Ariana had been so hyper-focused on locking in on Winn’s scent that she hadn’t immediately smelled the alcohol in the air around the man. Getting drunk in the graveyard… now that was a mood. Not her mood, but still a mood. She pulled her phone out of her backpack and pulled up a selfie she had snapped of her and Winn. She turned her phone around and extended it so the man could see. “He’s the one that doesn’t look like me,” she explained, “Have you seen him around here at all?” His scent was fading and she turned back to the man, focusing on his heartbeat to detect any sign of lying. Only she hadn’t heard one. Well then, that explained the whole hanging out drunk in a cemetery. “His trail ends here and we’re trying to find him. We think he may be in trouble.”

The nodding was a bit kneejerk, at this point, but. Matty listened along, looked close. Blinked, bloodshot and too warm, enough to at least tip his stomach, if not turn it all the way. Fuck. Definitely Winn. “Right,” he stammered, brushing some of that loose, tangling hair out of his face. Looking closer. Not that he had to, obviously, just... buying time. Winn hadn’t talked about trouble, exactly. Not the outside kind. There’d been the guy, the asshole, he’d mentioned. Dude in the back didn’t strike him as the type, though. But. Matty didn’t know these people. Couldn’t say how legit the whole “friend” thing was, between them. (Sounded pretty real. Didn’t it?) If Winn had wanted to have the… family, or whatever, to know where he was - wouldn’t he have called, or something? People did that, now. Cellphones, and shit. “Uh…” Matty sat back, with a wince. Just had to make a call. Come on - him and Winn, they’d finished a magnum between the headstones. Done some pretty fuckin’ serious talking, even, you know, as strangers. If the dude wanted some time to himself, or whatever, that wasn’t for Matty to screw with. Not like he sold people out for kicks. He shook his head, decisively. “Nope. Never seen him.” Except, if he could smell Winn, still - they sure as shit could. “I was pretty out of it last night, though, like… I’m the last motherfucker in this place you should be asking, honestly.” That, with a thin laugh, swallowed quick. Fuck, man. Had to hope this wasn’t the wrong call. The kind that ended in a gruesome mauling...  

He was having trouble thinking of this venture as “exciting” considering the incredibly foolish spontaneity Winn displayed that led to this fine comedy of errors but something almost felt familiar to Simon as the duo asked the graveyard rockstar regarding the whereabouts of their… friend. Pack member. Both. Both? Yes, Winn was still in the pack in his mind, despite some valid protests from other party members. He listened and took to wandering off as Matty stuttered out an answer-- or… what he probably considered the equivalent of one, keeping one of his hands in his pockets as the other absently messed with his own face, hovering between that and scratching at his neck. Part of him didn’t buy it; he trusted Ariana’s tracking ability more than this guy’s “witness testimony”. Another part of him was hoping there’d be some clue they could glean that didn’t depend on the rockstar’s word; some newly-disturbed earth, another trail, tangible evidence, something. He glanced over at the guy slouched on the ground, his brow furrowed slightly and his expression rather sharp though his reddened eyes betrayed him somewhat. Nah, he was slick. This guy was, too and though he wasn’t hearing a lying heartbeat (perhaps because he didn’t hear a heartbeat at all), he allowed himself to be led by his intuition… since his nose obviously wasn’t doing it for him. He wanted to give his two cents but he kept the comment to himself and his body, for some reason, decided to fill the silence with another sneeze. “It’s your call, Ariana,” He replied, sniffling. “What do you want to do?” He asked, hoping she knew that he’d follow her down whatever path she took at that moment; yeah, she was young but he trusted her lead and would be there to temper her more extreme decisions if it came to that.

Ariana wasn’t sure just how much she believed Matty, but with the shape he was in, she didn’t feel like there was too much point in pushing it. Still, she arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re sure you haven’t seen him. Because it smells like he was right here,” she pushed, trying to determine if he really was just drunk and clueless. It was unlikely Winn told him where he was going, but a direction would have at least been helpful. He did look pretty disheveled and it was possible they were wasting time. Her boot tapped against the ground, anxious to move again. To get to Winn before he made any rash decisions. Although running off and deactivating any form of contacting you already was. Ugh. Why did the wolves insist on cutting themselves off from others? That’s not what they were supposed to do. Maybe she hadn’t grown up with a pack, but she knew they had to look out for each other. She felt herself getting exceedingly frustrated again and tried to remember Simon’s words of remembering to throw patience into the mix. Okay, okay. Whatever was going on wasn’t the fault of some drunk, probably vampire, in the cemetery. “Right, yeah, sorry didn’t mean to get a little intense there. But really, if you’ve seen him, something happened and his phone is broken. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Oh, no, no no. Matty didn’t like the looks he was catching, here. Werewolves, man - even this way, human-looking, they were pretty fuckin’ amped up. That much, he knew. Had seen it himself, at the Ring. And even before then, in the wild. Well, some warehouse in Chicago. Close enough. Pulling his legs in a little closer, Matty was eyeing between the two of them, honestly not sure which might be the bigger problem, if he tried to make a break for it. Sniffly dude. Tiny girl. Hammered vampire. Be a riot of a chase, huh? He cleared his throat and shrugged again, as the kid kept going. “Told you. I - I don’t know him. Didn’t see anybody.” Really didn’t owe Winn losing an arm to some pissed off packmates. No, sir. But. They hadn’t pounced yet. She was prickling, though. Until she wasn’t. “No problem, yeah,” Matty brushed it off, earnestly. Sure, werewolf-grade intensity. Not a big deal. Not fuckin’ terrifying. “We’re good. We’re cool.” Definitely shouldn’t have finished the tequila. Maybe shouldn’t have lied. “I hope you find him, seriously. Like, best of luck.” Somewhere else. Far away, preferably.

As the two talked, Simon was inclined to agree with the mindset he was sure Ariana was taking; something was fishy about this guy. He blew his nose which, coupled with the medicine Ariana gave him earlier, helped clear out his sinuses where the sour bite of alcohol mixed with Winn’s faint scent was much more prevalent. Did this guy break out of a brewery? He frowned though he wanted to give Ariana a pat on the shoulder for her being calm… even if it was evident the rockstar’s dismissive, unhelpful attitude was weighing on her nerves. He popped his neck, not necessarily in an aggressive gesture though the noise crackled through the tension that was filling the air. “Hmm…” He hummed absently, giving the hungover individual another, rather gentle look. He sighed. “Do you remember any of where you were or what happened recently?” He found himself asking, his tone still calm. A small part of him was frustrated himself, sure; Winn was missing and SOMETHING had to have happened between this guy and Winn to cover him. He wondered if the stale smell of alcohol had to do with it. He paced as they talked, trying to find a ‘hot spot’ for Winn’s scent for the trail… maybe mixed with booze? Was that too obtuse of a thought?

Wasn’t that a sound right out of high school. The pop-snap of a neck thicker than his, attached to somebody who’d probably be happy to deliver a bit of over the counter amateur chiropractic. Matty slid up against the crypt he’d been propped against, so suddenly it surprised him; his legs didn’t hold out, though, and he took a lean, rather than, you know. Standing. Even standing, fuck. What kinda question was that, anyway? Like it was any of his business, Jesus. “Yeah, no. Had a rough fuckin’ day, alright?” He cracked, a little. God, it’d only been - not long, since he heard. About her. Bennie. Why he was here, dealing with this. Matty pressed back against the lichen-y stones, trying to stay as still as he possibly could, while the ground kept rolling under him. “I’ve been here. Inside,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the mausoleum he’d spent the daylight hours in. “Pissed faceless. For a while. I didn’t see your pal, I swear to Christ, I didn’t...” If he could still do that. Swear to anything. No lightning yet, so. Solid.  

Ariana found herself annoyed with the man even though he was minding his own business getting drunk in a cemetery. Was this a normal undead thing or was he just messy? It wasn’t any of her business anyway. She let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Okay, you don’t know shit. Maybe try to like… get it together for your own sake though.” She turned back to Simon, ready to refocus back on the task at hand. Winn’s scent was starting to fade and they needed to move fast. Her head was still shaking as she turned back to Simon. “Let’s go. His scent is fading, if we’re going to find him we need to keep moving.” She gave a wave to the drunk vampire and tried to follow Winn’s smell. They made it through more of the cemetery, but it seemed to be completely lost. “Shit,” she grumbled to Simon, “I don’t think we can find him, at least not using our noses. Scent is too faded for me to track him.”

Getting nowhere fast. Patience aside, Simon straightened up and exchanged glances with Ariana, giving a small nod to indicate that he was ready when she was; he could argue he was ready even before that given the uselessness of the drunken rockstar. “I’m sorry you had a rough night,” He remarked honestly to the guy before going back over to Ariana’s side and giving her a gentle smile even though their hunt hadn’t yielded any results, at least not useful ones. They knew he fled, then came to the cemetery, then… the rest was between him and the hungover individual. “You did the best you could,” He said to her, opting to give her a pat on the shoulder this time. “And you kept calm. That’s perfect for a hunter like yourself.” He exhaled. “Sorry that guy back there wasn’t… cooperative but you did good.” He motioned with his head to go back to Winn’s house. “C’mon, lemme get you some food or something.” He hid the worry in his head with his casual tone, hoping not to give the impression that he didn’t care but that was’t further from the truth. He just didn’t see the point in being so openly concerned when there wasn’t anything they could do at that specific moment in time. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something else. You’re clever like that.”

[hamilton-one-shots]

Would you do a thaurens zombie au which would be really angsty with one if them getting bitten ans becoming a zombie or maybe they have to amputate a bitten limb? I know it's a weird one, but happy anniversary!

Thomas knelt down and put a cold rag over his boyfriend’s forehead, kissing his cheek.

John chuckled at that, but pushed him away weakly. “Come on, Thomas, quit it. I don’t want you catching my flu or whatever.” His voice was strong, but even Thomas knew that John was just putting up an act. Unfortunately, the fact that he was pale as a sheet ruined it.

“Well, can you blame me? I haven’t been able to touch you in the past month.” Poor John had been down with a cold for about a month. Luckily, it had been much longer since they’d last seen much of those brain dead freaks roaming around. They’d been able to stay with their friends in the same shelter -  some old school - throughout that time, killing when they had to, but not facing anything bad enough to move again.

“I get it, but seriously. Whatever I have,” their medic was a surgeon and didn’t know much about this kind of thing, “I don’t want you catching it.” He smiled softly and cupped Thomas’s cheek. Before reeling back his hand and slapping him. He gasped and pulled his hand away, holding it close to his chest. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, my arm just… Just did it all on it’s own..”

Thomas was frowning, but he didn’t care about the slap. He cared about John. “You’re getting worse…” Muscle spasms couldn’t have been anything good. “I need to find you a doctor.”

“I’m fine!” John snapped, glaring for a second before his expression softened. “I’m.. I’m sorry.. I don’t know what came over me..”

Thomas frowned and kissed his forehead. That settled it. “I’m going to find you a doctor.” He got up and began walking out.

“Thomas, wait!” John called out, his voice hesitant, but stern.

He turned back around. “What is it?” he asked softly.

John sighed. He could hear the worry dripping from Thomas’s voice. There was no getting him to just stay there, where it was safe. “At least bring someone else with you.. Please…” he practically begged. If Thomas got hurt because of him… Just the thought was unbearable.

“Of course I will.” He smiled softly and blew him a kiss before leaving, going and getting their friend, Lafayette, finding him in the kitchen, finishing up on the day’s lunch.

“How’s John doing?” he asked gently.

“He’s getting worse.. I’m going to find a doctor. There’s bound to be one in the city.”

Lafayette frowned a bit. “The city?.. It’s too dangerous to go.”

“Nothing’s too dangerous for him.” Thomas stated, stern for a second before he sighed. “I was hoping you’d come with me, but..”

Lafayette shook his head and stood up. “There are no buts. I’m going with you. Dangerous or not, John is our friend. And you are not going alone.”

Thomas smiled. “What are we waiting for, then?”

He and Lafayette grabbed a backpack and packed some food, water, and weapons before getting on their bikes and leaving. It took a couple of hours, but they were able to make their way to the center of what was once their city with no obstacles. They took a break for food and water before going in, weapons strapped to their bikes and both quiet as they could be, watching out for any signs of danger.

As soon as they found signs of human life, they stopped and called out for help, weapons in their hands. At the first sight of human life, they put them away and were greeted by a friendly group. It was a risk trusting them, as it was anybody, but there wasn’t much time to think about that, not with John rapidly deteriorating.

“What are you guys doing here? Nobody could’ve survived this long in just a pair,” one of the leaders asked, skeptical, but impressed.

“We need a doctor,” Thomas stated. “We’re a few hours out by bike and my boyfriend needs a doctor. We have a lot of supplies, we can give some up for this.”

The leaders turned towards each other and spoke in hushed, but calm voices amongst themselves for a few minutes before turning back to them and nodding. “We have someone who can help you. We don’t need any supplies right now.” After all, while the situation was bleak, they were in the middle of the city. There were hospitals and food banks that they could easily get supplies from. It was hard enough without taking advantage of the desperate.

Thomas sighed, relieved. “Thank you.”

An hour later, they left, a doctor riding on the back of Thomas’s bike with a case of medications. Once they reached the edge of the city, their path was blocked by five people. If you could even call them that. They twitched and snarled and foamed at the mouth, brainless killing machines. An evolved virus did it to them, one that only spread through DNA transfer. It spread too fast for anyone to know what it was, but there was one thing they knew. Those things wouldn’t stop until they were dinner.

“I’ve got this,” Lafayette called out, getting off of his bike. “You protect the doctor.” He grabbed the baseball bat that was strapped to his bag and began swinging, hitting them all hard enough to dent their skulls.

Thomas couldn’t stand back, though. “Stay behind me,” he told the doctor before grabbing a machete from the side of his bike. He went to the creatures that Lafayette hit, but didn’t kill, and finished the job, screaming as he felt a sudden sharp pain in his leg.

Lafayette gasped and killed the last one, then ran to Thomas’s side, kneeling beside him. “Are you alright?”

He hissed and looked at his leg. “He just scratched me..”

The doctor cleaned his leg and wrapped it up, assuring him he’d be fine. “There was nothing in your leg that could be harmful.”

“Thank you.. Let’s just get out of here,“ he sighed, exasperated.

They rode down to their own shelter and brought the doctor inside, only passing a few creatures that didn’t cause them any trouble on the way there. Thomas took her to John’s room, gasping as he saw his love.

The medic that they already had was holding John on his side as he spasmed violently,  eyes rolled back. The doctor ran and helped the medic take care of John until he stopped, then began examining him.

“Hm..” the doctor hummed thoughtfully.

John was breathing raggedly as he was examined, moving and spasming around.

“Hold his arms. He won’t hold still,” the doctor asked Thomas.

He went over and pinned down John’s arms, trying to call him down. “She’s going to help you get better, baby.. Come on, please hold still..” he assured softly, hoping to calm him down.

She shone a light into John’s eyes and jumped back as he jumped at her. “Get away from him! In the hallway, now!” she demanded.

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

She grabbed his arm and yanked him outside, shutting the door behind them. “I.. I’m sorry. He’s one of them..” she said urgently.

Thomas felt his heart stop. John?.. His John, one of those bloodthirsty creatures? There was just.. It was impossible. He seemed fine just that morning and he hadn’t been outside in a while… And all that time, John was… was dying?! “No.. No way.. He can’t be!” he practically yelled.

The doctor expected as much and wasn’t fazed. “I’m sorry..” she responded, sympathetic.

They both jumped as John slammed himself against the door. The doctor lead Thomas back to the main meeting room, calling everyone who she saw to go with them. She warned everyone of what happened to John and apologized as the room went silent, nobody feeling its weight more than Thomas.

“What’s going to happen to him?..” he asked weakly.

She sighed. “I’m sorry.. There’s only one known way to stop this.”

The silence grew heavier, weighing down on Thomas’s heart and crushing in on his world.

Someone stood up and took the doctor back to the city, everyone else sitting in uncomfortable silence. John wasn’t just Thomas’s boyfriend, after all. He was a friend, a best friend to some of them. And, to those who weren’t so emotionally attached to him, he was one of the most skilled men they had, able to take down creatures on the front line without a single death, and… Well, with only one person being bitten.

“We have to get him outside.. I’m sorry.. I really don’t want to say it, but there’s no getting him back,” their medic stated, trying to sound as sympathetic as he could. “We need the room.. We can find some way to contain him. There’s a pet store nearby and-”

“And what?” Thomas snapped. “You want to lock him in a cage like some animal?! He’s sick!”

“With something that he’ll never come back from. With something that will make him kill us! Boyfriend or not, are you willing to sacrifice everyone here over him? Because, if you are, I’ll be glad to throw you in there with him,” the medic said firmly, people behind him reluctantly and quietly agreeing.

Thomas’s expression softened and he backed down. God.. The medic was right. No, he wasn’t right. There was nothing right about this. But he had a point.. There was no way that Thomas would ever agree with him, not on this, but Thomas did know he was telling the truth. He felt his stomach turn and his throat beginning to close up. John didn’t deserve to live like that, a brainless monster. Thomas knew that he couldn’t let it happen. His baby deserved so much better. He deserved…

“Alright.. I’m leading this, though,” he said softly.

The medic nodded. “Understood,” he whispered back.

Thomas took a deep, shaky breath before looking into the crowd, meeting eyes with three people. They all nodded and got up, walking with him to the store down the street and getting as big of a dog cage as possible before coming back, putting it together, and getting John out.

One of John’s closest friends, Alexander, was the one to push the door open while Thomas, Lafayette, and their friend Hercules worked to get John inside, trapped and out of harm’s way.

He snarled and growled and did everything he could to tear apart the cage… Until his eyes met Thomas’s. He calmed down and whined, reaching for him desperately.

Thomas felt his heart break and pressed his palm against the cage, biting back a sob as John pushed his cheek against it.

“Thomas..” Alexander began. “We don’t know much about this disease, but we do know it’s eating at his brain.. It’s only a matter of time before he forgets you and he’s back to.. You know..” he muttered, sympathetic, but sure.

He curled up his fingers and felt himself begin to shake. “He doesn’t deserve this..”

John looked up at the tall one and whimpered. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he didn’t want to see the tall one upset. John wanted the tall one to be happy.. And he stopped being happy when the short one spoke.

John whipped around and growled at Alexander, throwing himself at the door of the cage.

Alexander screamed and walked backwards, tripping over his feet and scooting away.

“We have to get him out before he hurts anyone. Just outside,” Lafayette stated, grabbing his side of the cage and lifting, Hercules doing the same.

Outside.. Thomas sighed and picked up his side. John liked outside.. At least he’d be happy.

They carried him out, the job being a lot easier once Alexander was out of sight, and put him just outside of the building.

“I’ll go get him something to eat and some water.. We’ll leave you with him.” Lafayette and Hercules walked inside, leaving Thomas to spend time with John.

He sighed and put his hand against the cage, letting John press his own face against it. Maybe… Maybe Alexander was right.. John was essentially dying. It wouldn’t do anyone any good for Thomas to pretend he was getting better. “Can you even understand me?..” he asked, almost hopeless.

John heard the sound he made and looked up, cocking his head a bit. Was the tall one trying to communicate? He just kissed his hand and looked up at him. Was that what he wanted to see?..

Thomas frowned and pulled his hand away.

John whined and tried to reach for him, trying desperately to get himself out until he got it open! But, almost as soon as he did, he fell to the ground and began seizing again, Thomas kneeling beside him and rolling him on his side, making sure that he didn’t choke himself. Once he went still, Thomas tried to move him back into the cage, jumping back as he felt him move.

John stumbled to his feet and felt his stomach growl, looking up at  the other. He walked towards Thomas and grabbed his arm, about to sink his teeth in when he yelled and pulled his arm away, forcing John into a headlock.

John growled and tried to move out of the lock, fighting Thomas’s grip.

“John..” Thomas sobbed, keeping his hold strong. He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t even want to think about it… But his John was dead. Thomas took a deep breath before quickly snapping his neck, wailing as John’s body went limp and sitting down with it, holding his corpse and refusing to let it go. He killed John.. He killed him rather than take the bite and suffer with him.

Thomas felt an arm on his shoulder as Lafayette sat with him. “I’m so sorry.. I saw what happened, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I did it..” Thomas sobbed out, looking up at Lafayette with pained, bloodshot eyes. “I killed him.”

Lafayette frowned and shifted to kneel in front of him. “You’re going to have to let him go..”

“I.. I can’t..” Thomas choked.

Lafayette sighed. “Then you can come do it with me.” It was all he could do. They didn’t know what would happen if John’s corpse stayed and rotted on it’s own.

Thomas nodded and got up, carrying John as he followed Lafayette, who told everyone they were leaving. It was quite the walk, but neither of them cared. Their time was well worth it.

They arrived at a funeral home and Lafayette took it from there, telling Thomas to sit and wait while he took John and cremated him, the only way to make sure whatever the virus was, it would never hurt anyone else. Of course, he went back and sat with Thomas while they waited, trading stories of John’s life and how much everyone was going to miss him.

“Hercules will be glad to take care of the horses for him,” Lafayette assured.

“Thanks, Laf.. I just wish I could’ve married him..”

“I know..” Lafayette responded sympathetically.

Thomas sighed. At least he had some time with  John, unlike Alexander.. He lost his wife to the disease early on. “At least his last moments as.. As John were comfortable..”

“You did that for him. Whether you knew about it or not, I knew he was going to be comfortable.”

“Thanks…”

Lafayette nodded before checking the time, getting up. “I’ll be right back.” He left back to the back room and gathered John’s remains, putting them into an urn and furrowing his eyebrows as something rose to the top. He shook it just the slightest bit and gasped when he realized what it was. He carefully pulled it out and washed it in the sink before shutting the urn and going back out to Thomas. “I found these…”

Thomas almost burst into tears at the sight. There, in Lafayette’s palm, rested a beautiful ring with diamonds on either side of an amethyst jewel and another that was nearly the same, the center gem being an opal. John was going to propose…  Thomas carefully took the rings from Lafayette and slipped them both on, his own on his ring finger, of course, and John’s on his pinky.

“He’s here with you.. Forever.”

Thomas nodded. “Forever..”

[otomeonfleek]

Request: Sick w/ Eisuke Ichinomiya

anonymous asked:

i have a request, can you write about eisuke having an affair behind mc's back but little did he know mc knew it all along. Mc didn't leave or confront him because she wants to keep her promise that eisuke makes her which is to never leave his side.But everything changes when mc was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Mc left him without telling the true reason why she left. Eisuke regretting his actions try searching for mc but maybe a little too late?? ( the stick around fic was hella good!)

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Ahhh I made a fairly long fic again. It seems that I am incapable of making short ones lol. I hope you enjoy this and I apologize if it isn’t what you had in mind! Btw, there isn’t any proper dialogue until the very end as I wanted to focus on building up to it. 

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Is there any right way to tell someone that you’re dying? You can recite it, make drafts, practice in the mirror, and it still is something neither is ready to hear. 

In your youth, you’ve envisioned a million ways your life could go. Tucked in the arms of a man that loves you in a white dress, moving into a beautiful house that you’ll spend months decorating to make it feel like home, having a darling child or two, and then spoiling your own grandchildren. That was the plan-not this. 

You stood bare in front of the bathroom mirror, burning the image into your mind of the nasty purple splotches peppering your arms, the thinning limp hair, and the gaunt hollows of your cheeks. 

It had been weeks since you found out the technical terms of what was wrong with you. The fact that a few syllables stringed together could ruin you made you bitter. Perhaps a reason why you were especially vulnerable to the negative thoughts running through was because of a certain someone. 

Lately, you were ensnared in a continuous battle of what hurt more-the sickness or the lies. As cliche as it was, one was tearing at your body and the other your actual soul. You almost felt that knowing the truth crippled you the worst. It made you passive and proved how willing you were to look the other way because of the hold he had on you. 

No, it wasn’t his money or power that kept you trailing behind him. It was worse-you stuck around because you loved him with every fiber of your being. Through the disappointments, the arguments that strained both your throats raw, the dates long-forgotten, and the supposed business calls- you were stuck in a love he considered routine. 

Regardless of whether it was his personality or his social class, he was the one calling the shots and jerking your feelings around. Knowing that you were the one that let him take advantage of you furthered how repulsed you were at the sight staring back in the mirror. Yes, the form in its bruised flesh and skeletal-figure horrified you, but you hated the person more for allowing this to continue for so long. 

It took you a while to piece it together. The first incident that caught your eye was the night of your fifth anniversary. You scrambled to finish your shift early, then spent hours fixing your appearance and nicked the price tag of a new dress that strained your budget. 

That entire week, your colleagues and friends teased you on how giddy you were. Years into the relationship and you still felt your heart flutter for the man. 

You found yourself an hour early in the penthouse and eagerly waiting for your partner to arrive. The restaurant was Michelin worthy and kept a stunning view of the city below. It was a place you had long raved about and that he had secretly made note of in that emotionally awkward way of his. 

Before you knew it, three hours has passed and you had already blowed his phone up with texts to no avail. You were a combination of concerned and furious, but knowing his background, you felt with your luck that maybe he had been kidnapped. 

Burning holes in the tiling, you had been found by the other bidders that seemed especially disturbed that you were still in the penthouse sans hotel magnate partner on the evening of your anniversary . 

You brushed them off and made an excuse of how you understood he was a busy man, but felt odd on how Soryu seemed to avoid your stare. From his nervous tic of painfully rubbing the back of his neck to his downcast eyes, something was surely eating at him. Had you not been so disappointed with the night’s turn of events, you would have approached him. If you had, maybe things would have turned out better. 

Nearly one in the morning with you curled up on a love-seat and half-asleep did your date finally arrive. You were too exhausted and emotionally-drained to respond when he gently picked you up. Cradling you in his arms, he carried you to your shared bedroom. 

You recall him softly apologizing and then making up for his absence by spending the remainder of the night entangled in another’s arms. Nothing else was strange except for the faint scent of lavender you remembered. From then on, you would smell lavender every few weeks until a hatred of the plant festered in you. 

The instance that shook your world was when you woke up in the middle of the night with murmuring faint in the other room. You crept past and felt your heart drop to your stomach when you heard his familiar baritone utter lewd phrases meant for another. 

There had to be some mistake. It was a bad dream. Perhaps, he just needed to sweet-talk someone for another shady deal. 

You had been together for years through thick and thin from attempted assassinations to blackmail and petty arguments. Promises to stay together for the long run and countless actions proving your trust in another-no, this could not be happening. 

The next morning, you kissed him on the lips as you usually did and carried on with your life. It was the cowardice and desperation inside that prevented you from confronting him and risk the life you had made together. 

You knew it was unhealthy and violated every one of your values to think that maybe if you kept your mouth shut, if you continued to play the role of the perfect girlfriend that he would marry you. The two of you could still be happy together and that he would soon tire of the other woman. 

Now as you stare in the mirror and dissect every freckle and insecurity you have harbored for the past year, you know you can’t go on. 

The young girl with an honesty like no other still exists in you, dying shell and all. With that, you make the decision to disappear. You feel bittersweet when it’s Soryu that helps you get away. 

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

Sitting on a lone park bench, you don’t react when he comes to sit beside you. You keep your eyes forward with your thin lips pressed in a tight line and wait. 

“...” The silence drags on for several moments as the chill of autumn breezes past. With a slight childhood-like innocence, you note that you can see your breath. 

He shifts and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees before burying his face in his hands. The way he holds himself is so different from the Eisuke Ichinomiya the public knows. There is no confidence and the way his shoulders are hunched over makes him seem smaller. His designer and neatly pressed purple dress-shirt and suit is replaced with a quiet black sweater. 

For how well you are holding up, you nearly flinch when you hear him speak after going without the sound for months. “...It wasn’t easy...finding you. I was surprised.” 

Rather than wasting your breath to entertain his version of small-talk, you keep silent and focus on a grand tree with reddening branches. It would be lovely to paint it. 

“I thought I knew you better than anyone else,” He slowly rose and cocked his head to catch your eye. 

The piercing and calculating sepia was vacant, and now seemed more exhausted than anything. His features were always finely chiseled, but the hollows of his cheeks seemed sickly. In your mind, you laughed bitterly at how you were supposed to be the dying one yet his haggard appearance challenged yours. 

With a rather heavy exhale, he continued, “I once thought I could see right through you and read everything about you. I was wrong.” His tone was low and each word carried its individual weight. 

You used whatever remaining strength and furled your thin digits into fists, trying to fight back the trembles as your throat tightened. 

“I could do anything, say anything, and know that you would still be there. I could hurt you-I did hurt you, and you stayed.” The brunette male pursed his lips and glanced away with a pained expression. 

You finally gathered the bits of resentment and hurt that festered in you to air it out. “I...I really believed in you. I convinced myself that if I stuck it out that...You would forget the other woman and that we would be okay. We could just continue on, we would get married, and we would be fine.” Mustering the nerve, you properly jutted your shoulders to face him head-on and stunned him with the severity of your eyes. 

“Do you know how twisted that is-to think like that? I was so in love with you that I made myself sick,” you spat out the words with such venom that he nearly reeled back. 

Forcing a bitter laugh out, you gritted your teeth, “Now look at me! I really am sick.” Mockingly, you gestured to your frame and picked at the sweaters that swallowed your thin frame whole. 

He remained still, finally getting a proper glimpse into your perspective after all this time. Chest raising heavily, your ex-lover tried, “I can get you help. There’s a hospital in-” 

“Stop. If I really wanted, don’t you think I could have asked Soryu or any of the others?” You sent him a bitter smile, your eyes twinkling humorlessly. Oh, how the tables have turned. You were like a stonewall with cool features while he was fumbling around. 

“(Y/N), you don’t want to die. You’re not throwing your life away because of something shitty I did. I can help-” The words died in his mouth when you raised your hand to signal that he stop again. 

“I’m not throwing my life away. I just want to do things at my own pace now.” This time, your smile was much less cruel as you considered what that meant to you. You pulled at the collar of your woolen coat, noting how stiff your fingers felt from the frigid air. 

The fury and passion that was the Tres Spades King seemed to ignite as he straightened in his seat to bark out, “At your own pace? You can’t think like that and take your damned time!! This isn’t a game-you are dying!!” 

You shook your head, almost feeling oddly comforted to see him in his usual raging spirits. “You’re not listening. I spent years living at your pace, trailing after you, doing what you want. Now I want to live as I like.” 

The words seemed to finally hit him and you decided to provide that extra security for him. “I’m actually getting better. It doesn’t seem like it now, but I feel it.” 

Several long moments passed as your own (e/c) gazed into his, trying to convey every frustrated and hopeful emotion that was surging through you. 

This was your life now. 

It wouldn’t have the white dress, the giddy laughter of children running through a home that you’ve built, or the adoring spouse. Your plans had changed and your priorities altered to fit this reality. It would be one likely without Eisuke Ichinomiya and that knowledge made your heart crumble once more as you forced a smile towards him.

Being with him had been painful. 

Learning to be without him as you healed would be painful. 

The realization that you could no longer smell lavender on him was painful. 

This was your life now.   

[hepaidattention]

More Than Just Neighbors

FS Non-SHIELD AU 

@aosficnet2 weekly prompt: Neighbors/Domestic AU

Fitz and Jemma are best friends, neighbors, that is until Jemma comes crying at Fitz’s door at four in the morning.

 Fitz awoke with the incessant sound of someone knocking, specifically on his apartment door. He inwardly groaned as he took a quick glance at the clock and sluggishly made his way to the door. Before Fitz could finally get to it, however, he heard the lock wiggle around, and before he knew it she was rushing into his apartment, looking at him with a flustered expression.

 Sadly, this had become a regular thing anymore. But, he would say it was never this early in the morning. Or late at night. However you wish to see it. “Jemma, you do know it’s four in the morning, right?”

 Jemma Simmons looked at him, letting an out a huff and tightly crossing her arms around her chest. “I know.” She said wearily. She knew Fitz wasn’t going to be mad at her for marching in like this, Fitz could never be mad at her. So why did she look so distressed?

 He observed her clothes, seeing the lack of pajama’s, but instead the same clothes she was wearing earlier today, and his brow furrowed. “What happened?”

 Her bottom lip wobbled, tears starting to pool in his eyes. “Will broke up with me,” she finally announced, her voice unsteady.

 Fitz wasn’t sure what to do. He had never seen Jemma cry before, and on top of that, he was overly joyed by this news. He felt bad for Jemma’s heart ache, but Will was a royal jerk who didn’t even deserve the lowliest of scum on the bottom of the ocean – never in a million different worlds did he deserve Jemma Simmons.

 Fitz stepped closer to her, rubbing the back of his neck. He was awkward, he wouldn’t deny it. Crying women made him uncomfortable, as shameful as it is. Yet, seeing Jemma cry, Fitz couldn’t bear it. “I, uh, m’sorry Jem,” he opened his arms out for a hug, and before he could even try to reel her in, Jemma collided into his chest and started to sob. Her arms gripped tight around Fitz’s neck, her head buried into his shoulder. Unsure on how to react, Fitz started rubbing circles on her back, saying nothing, but just letting her cry. Jemma knew Fitz hated Will, and they both knew whatever he had to say about him wasn’t even close to nice, so they both mutually understood Fitz’s silence.

“I’m so sorry, Fitz,” Jemma pulled back after a long moment, makeup running down her face. She was still beautiful, Fitz thought, it amazed him how she looked gorgeous no matter what the circumstance was. She wiped tears from her cheek as she said, “I just … I didn’t know where to go. I shouldn’t have woken you up like this.”

 “Jemma,” Fitz gave her a soft smile, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He even dared to push a tear from her cheek, his thumb brushing across her soft skin. “You are always welcome. Even at hours most might consider the time for sleep.”

 Jemma chuckled a little, looking down at her feet. When her eyes met his again, she just grinned. “What would I do without a neighbor like you?”

 He shrugged. “Probably be dead, ‘cause you decided to the only way to get rid of that spider a few weeks back was to bomb the place.”

 Jemma laughed again, ending her laughter with a content sigh. Tears still ran down her cheek, nonetheless, and Fitz had to keep himself from pushing all the tears back and just kissing her on the lips instead.

 He had been in love with Jemma Simmons the moment she came and introduced herself as his new neighbor. He realized this fact probably about a year into their friendship.

 Jemma, however, constantly likes to call him, “Her best friend in the whole world.” So Fitz, being dreadfully friend zoned, refrains from ever making a move. Because if he screwed up this friendship – well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without Jemma in his life, but he wasn’t a hundred percent certain he’d be able to manage at all.

 She sniffled a little and shifted, Fitz releasing her from his embrace. She took in a deep breath and said, “I should leave you be. We both should get some sleep before work tomorrow.”

 “Yeah, probably.” He wouldn’t deny he was sleepy, but Jemma didn’t need to be alone right now. He gave her a smirk and walked into the kitchen. “You want sugar and milk both, or just sugar tonight?”

 Jemma furrowed her brows, though a smile was creeping on her face. “In what?”

 “Tea – ‘less you’re in a really strange mood and want coffee.”

 Jemma grinned at him and walked to the counter of his small little kitchen. “Just sugar is fine.”

 Fitz nodded and continued making them their tea. Jemma watched him, a broken smile on her face as she observed how he made his tea, and how he made hers. She watched him every time, almost like it was a new discovery to enfold. A mystery she just couldn’t quite map out. The answer why to her curious expressions was that Fitz never did the same thing over and over, every time, like Jemma did. Jemma had a routine about making tea, and she almost always just wanted sugar. If she wanted milk, she was in a really good mood. Fitz, however, made tea different every time. Sometimes he wanted milk, sometimes he wanted sugar, sometimes he wanted it black. Sometimes he put the sugar in first, then poured the tea, sometimes the other way around – it didn’t matter. If Fitz was honest, he did it differently just to make it so Jemma couldn’t predict what he would do next. She loved to evaluate and then predict everything, and Fitz enjoyed keeping her on her toes.

 He handed Jemma her mug and gave her a warming smile. “Nice and hot, just what the doctor ordered.” He commented.

 She mumbled a thank you, and Fitz noticed how solemn her demeanor became in just a few short moments. It killed Fitz, seeing her so upset. He might just find Will himself and give him a good punch or two. “So,” he cringed, hating to ask. But she needed to talk about it. “What happened?”

 Jemma let out such a heavy sigh that Fitz could have sworn she’d been holding her breath since she sat down. “We got in a fight.” Fitz nodded, encouraging her to go on. She was staring at her mug, but somehow Fitz knew she saw him. “He told me I made him feel stupid and I was anal, my OCD tendencies had pushed him too far.” She let out a shaky breath, her lip starting to quiver again. “Then I tried to calm him down and I told him I’d work on it, and I’d try to change, but he just scoffed and told me I could never change and then shouted that he didn’t want us to see each other anymore.”

 What a jerk. Fitz was definitely going to punch him now. “Jemma, m-m’sorry,” He saw her hand tremble and he laid his over hers. His brow furrowed. “He didn’t … hurt you, did he?”

 Jemma furiously shook her head. “No, nothing like that. He just … his eyes were so … dark, and his words… I didn’t know words could hurt so much. I mean, I suppose I did. But any time someone had ever said something hurtful to me, I just shrugged it off. But this … I …”

 “Hey,” Fitz voiced, his tone bringing Jemma’s head to raise and meet his gaze. “Whatever that hog face said to you, not one bit of it was true. You are magnificent, Jemma Simmons, and you always deserved better than that emotionally abusive arse.”

 Jemma gave him a watery smile, nodding her head. She looked back down at her tea, tears running down her face. He started to remove his hand from hers, but Jemma caught it, laying her other hand over his and giving his a tight squeeze. “As long as I have you, I’ll be nothing but extraordinary.” She traced her thumb over his knuckles. “At least we have each other, Fitz.”

 Fitz’s heart melted inside his chest – he knew she never met it in a romantic way, but it was hard sometimes, for Fitz to separate his feelings for her from their platonic friendship. He shuddered at her touch, and then asked, through his groggy voice, “Did you love him?”

 She paused, giving him a surprised look. She looked back down at their hands as she said, “I don’t know. I … I suppose … yes.”

  That one ‘yes’ hurt Fitz more than it ever should. She chose to love the emotionally abusive, American, hog faced numb brain before she ever once considered loving him. He shouldn’t let it get to him – but he did. “Right, right. Course you do.” He grumbled, trying everything not to sound jealous. He wasn’t very successful. “Why wouldn’t you? Top marks, heroic action man – saving children from burning buildings and cat from tall trees. He does everything right.” He pulled his hand from her grasp and wrapped both his hands around his mug, taking a sip of his tea to hide his frustration.

 She eyed him, a stern, quizzical expression on her face. She watched him for a moment, before a small smile curved the tip of her mouth. “Fitz, are you … jealous?”

 Fitz sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jemma.”

 “You are.” She looked like she was in shock. “Fitz –”

 “Why would I be jealous of your ex, Jemma? Of all people, hog face. Children scissors are sharper than him.”

 “Leopold James Fitz,” a wide smile was covering her face now. “You’re jealous, admit it!”

 Fitz groaned. “Maybe I am.” He stared down at his tea, avoiding all eye contact.

 “Fitz, you …” He heard her sigh, then said, “You are ten times more of a man than Will could ever be.”

 He sucked in a deep breath and met her stare, asking, “Then why did you date him?”

 His mouth just about fell open once realizing what his question implied. Jemma looked at him with a scrunched brow, her eyes searching his. She was just about as shocked as he was that those words ever came out of his mouth.

 Jemma stammered on her words, saying, “You – you’re my best friend in the world, Fitz, my sweet, amazing neighbor, I didn’t…”

 “Yeah, well,” he had already gotten this far. No backing out now. “You’re more than that, Jemma.”

 She was just staring at him, her mouth slightly gaped open, her eyes darting back and forth between his; as if she’d find an answer in his eyes. She closed the space between her lips, causing Fitz to instinctively eye her mouth, his stare lingering longer than it should.

 “Fitz, I –”

 “It’s getting late. You should get some rest before dawn breaks.” Fitz walked around the counter, heading for the door, when Jemma catches his hand. He looks back at her, feeling her reel him in.

 “Will you let me talk?”

 “There’s nothing to discuss, Jemma –”

 Jemma stands up and gives him a loving look, a smile so soft and gentle Fitz felt it had to be forced. Jemma would never look at him so… lovingly, would she? “Yes, there is.”

 Fitz realizes that there is now no longer any distance between them, her hand slipping up the back of his neck, her eyes looking longingly in his. Their shallow breaths seem to come in sync, he’s watching her lips, she’s leaning in, their foreheads meet, and before Fitz knows it, he’s kissing Jemma Anne Simmons.

 Fitz’s arms glide around her waist, pulling her flush to him. Jemma smiles through, deepening their kiss in a hitch of a breath, and Fitz can’t believe it.

 Now, he supposed they really were more than just neighbors.

[the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt]

Rum and Cupcakes (Chapter 7)

Surprise! Here’s another chapter to help you get over those Sunday night blues. Still so much more to come! @a-city-dove

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6

Ao3

Killian called Robin as soon as he awoke. He had to schedule a meeting for him and Emma to meet with Mayor Mills to show her the charge against Gold. Killian figured it would be faster to get a meeting with the mayor if he went through her boyfriend. The technique proved useful; Robin told Killian that he and Emma could come by when they closed their respective shops for the day. Actually, Robin had told him to bring Emma around “any time,” but Killian figured they should treat the day like it was any other workday. Closing the shops and meeting with the mayor would arouse suspicion, and Killian didn’t want Emma’s brother to get in trouble for helping them out. Before he left Emma’s after she showed him her findings, he told her to skip breakfast and sleep in, but she had said no. She wanted to meet him anyway, so he smiled as he got dressed before meeting her at their usual table. He knew she’d never admit it, but he was growing on her. He did have that effect on people.

Emma somehow got to sleep after Killian left at 2:30am. She couldn’t tell you when or how she got to sleep because she was reeling from her find for what seemed like hours, but she jumped out of bed at the sound of her phone alarm a couple hours later. Emma was practically singing in the shower as she got ready before meeting Killian for breakfast. While he was on his way out last night, he told her to “get some sleep, Swan” and skip breakfast, but she told him she refused to miss their morning meeting. He didn’t fight her; he was probably too tired. She was just happy she had an excuse to see him. Emma realized that if Mayor Mills listened to and helped them, then Emma would lose an excuse to see Killian other than for their breakfasts or to exchange cupcakes and books. She had grown to trust him, and he was so much fun to spend time with. She felt that he really understood her, and she felt that maybe their paths have crossed for a reason. She didn’t even mind watching Star Trek or Doctor Who or his other dorky sci-fi shows - even those were growing on her. She threw on the TARDIS beanie she bought as a joke but has really grown to love and bolted to her bug so she could get to breakfast. No surprise, Killian was already sitting at their table, which was full of food, when she arrived.

“You look happy, Swan,” Killian remarked upon seeing Emma. She couldn’t stop grinning, but his words brought a blush to her cheeks.

“Maybe I am,” she spoke quietly.

“Me too.” Killian gestured for Emma to sit. She immediately reached for her coffee; she wanted to get the caffeine in her system before her long night could catch up with her.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” she said as she lowered the cup from her mouth.

“Of course.” He picked up his utensils as she started eating her chocolate banana crepes. She couldn’t believe he still waited for her before he ate, even if it meant his French toast got cold. “I see I’ve converted you into a Whovian.” She was momentarily confused before he pointed at her head.

“Oh, the beanie!”

“Aye.”

“Well, it’s really soft and comfy.” She reached a hand to touch her beanie unconsciously.

“No, no, no.” Killian wagged a finger at her. “You like it,” he popped the “t” at the end of his sentence.

“Maybe,” Emma whispered. Killian knew this was the closest he’d get to a confession from her. He grinned in triumph and went back to eating his French toast, not wanting to push it and lose his lead. “So, did you talk to Robin?” He nodded until he finished chewing.

“Aye. He said we could present our findings any time. I told him we’d be over after work. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect.” She fidgeted with her napkin under the table. She didn’t think it was noticeable, but Killian was quite perceptive.

“Are you nervous, love?” His blue eyes were filled with warmth, providing much-needed comfort to Emma.

“A little.”

“Care to expand?” He sat back, giving her the floor.

“Well, I know we found something incriminating in the files, but what if Regina doesn’t do anything about it? What if it was-” Emma chewed on her bottom lip when Killian finished her thought.

“All for naught.” She nodded. He leaned forward, closer to Emma. “Don’t worry, love. The mayor will support us. Especially because I’m best friends with her boyfriend.”

“And honorary uncle to her soon-to-be son?” Killian laughed lightly.

“Aye. That too.”

“Killy,” Emma mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, smiling ever-so-slightly. He smiled in return.

“Oh shush, Swan.” She stuck her tongue out at her before going back to her breakfast.

Emma tried to focus on work when she arrived at her shop after breakfast. She dove into baking, creating strawberry lemonade cupcakes, snickerdoodle cupcakes, and chocolate hazelnut cupcakes. Emma found it hard to keep distracted once her cakes were finished, so she finished The Great Gatsby while hiding behind the register. Without the novel to distract her, she thought about her pitch to Regina. Emma considered and reconsidered every word that she would or could say to the mayor to get her point across. No matter what she ended up saying at that meeting, Gold couldn’t open in Storybrooke. Not only would one of Gold’s stores put both Swan’s Cupcakes and The Jolly Roger out of business without question, but he couldn’t be allowed in Storybrooke for Killian’s sake. Emma cared about Killian, and she couldn’t let Gold threaten him, both physically and emotionally. Killian was really touchy about the subject, not that she could blame him, and she knew he was still hurting from the incident, even if he claimed to be over it. Emma bit her lip as she mentally practiced her pitch yet again. She could really use some of Mary Margaret’s obnoxious optimism right about now. Emma pulled out her phone to help distract herself. Ruby had just been offered another costuming job for a movie filming in a couple months. Emma sent her a congratulations and messaged her back and forth until Emma couldn’t take the anxiety anymore. She went back to her kitchen on her lunch break and baked her nerves out. She made cake batter cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles, banana split cupcakes, buttered popcorn cupcakes, and cannoli cupcakes with mini chocolate chips. When all her cupcakes were baked and frosted, she took a minute to breathe. She had calmed her nerves considerably - that was one reason she loved baking so much - and she felt ready for the afternoon. The rest of the work day flew by as she served the constant stream of customers. She smiled at the customers enjoying her creations, even walking around and talking to a few of the regulars. Emma was cleaning her bowls when Killian walked into the shop.

“Almost ready?” He didn’t ask before taking a dish towel and drying the mixing bowls and spoons sitting out on a paper towel.

“I was going to dry those later.”

“Swan.” He stared at her.

“Thanks.” She went back to cleaning the bowl before handing it to him as she finished. He took it happily and she dried her hands. “I’m going to go finish sweeping up out there.” She hesitated in case he wanted her to stay and help him dry.

“It’s okay. I think I can handle a couple of bowls and a towel.” She untied her apron and hung it up on her way to the shop’s front. He finished drying her dishes and joined her out front. He walked up to the counter with the register and leaned on it, his forearms crossed as he bent over to watch Emma finish sweeping so they could expose his arch enemy.

“Thanks for helping. You saved me about twelve minutes.” Emma put her broom back into its closet.

“That’s awfully specific.”

“Routine.” He nodded. “Seriously, thanks.”

“I am just that generous a best friend. No need to thank me.” He stood up straight and bowed comically.

“Yeah, whatever. Ready to go meet Regina?”

“I think so. You?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” They both paused for a beat as they locked eyes and looked at each other.

“Shall we?” He offered her his hand. She took it and he walked her to their cars. “See you soon, Swan.” She was to run home and grab the file before meeting him at Regina’s office. They got into their separate cars and went their own ways, both anticipating their meeting. Emma left her car running as she sprinted into her apartment and grabbed the file containing the matters of interest. She threw the file into the passenger seat and drove straight for Town Hall. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could stop worrying. She took a deep breath as she parked, then pulled her hair out of its messed-up ponytail in an attempt to look more presentable. Emma raked her fingers through her hair as she stepped out of her bug, grabbing the files as she met Killian in the lobby of the building.

“Let’s do this.” He grabbed her hand again as they walked to the door of Regina’s office together. He opened the door and they stepped in together. Regina was doing paperwork at her desk, but she looked up when they entered.

“Hello, Miss Swan. Mr. Jones. Robin said you had something important to show me. How can I help you?” Regina gestured to two chairs in front of her desk. Emma and Killian shared nervous smiles before each taking a seat.

“Mayor Mills, as you know, I run a cupcake bakery and Killian here runs a bookstore.” Way to state the obvious, Emma. What happened to the powerful points from earlier?

“I am aware. How is this relevant?”

“Well, opening a Gold’s Bookstore would put us both out of business.” Emma sounded much more nervous than she had hoped.

“It would also bring profit to Storybrooke’s government. We could use it for the building of a new playground for the children. You know the old one was destroyed in the bad storm we had last year.” Emma saw an opening - if only Regina would stop talking so she could jump in. She was pretty sure interrupting the mayor was a good way to guarantee she wouldn’t listen.

“That’s the thing, Mayor Mills. The money Gold makes wouldn’t go to Storybrooke,” Killian spoke calmly. He didn’t sound nervous at all.

“What do you mean, Mr. Jones? Of course it would. We have a contract.” Regina crossed her arms.

“Well, we have proof that Gold is guilty of some serious embezzlement.” Emma opened the file on her lap.

“On more than one occasion,” Killian adds.

“Here.” Emma placed the open file on Regina’s desk. Emma pointed to the point where the numbers in the file no longer added up. “Some of the money from his New York shops was supposed to go to the public school system, but they have records stating that they never received the money.” Emma tried to read Regina’s face as she scanned the file, but she was unreadable. Emma could not figure out what Regina was thinking or which way she was leaning. Emma reached over and turned the page in the file. “And a portion of the money from his Florida shops was supposed to go to wildlife preservation groups, and they had the same problem.” Emma pointed at another chart. “Gold was supposed to use money from his London store to open a new location, but the numbers here don’t make sense. He claims he used $50,000 for a new store in Dublin, but the Dublin store reported that it only costed $35,000.”

“And you think Gold used the money for what? Personal expenses?”

“Possibly. We don’t know exactly, but he lied on all his forms. The money doesn’t go where he says it’s going.” Emma sounded more confident than she did earlier, but she wasn’t sure Regina was exactly on their side.

“How did you even get the forms? I thought these were all confidential.” Regina sighed as she realized. “The sheriff.”

“Mayor Mills, I believe we had probable cause.” Killian jumped in with defense.

“You don’t have any proof he took the money for himself.”

“With all respect, ma’am, I believe all the proof we need is in that file. Regardless of where the money ends up, it is not being used for what it is supposed to be used for.” Emma noticed Killian unconsciously running his right hand over his scars on his left one. He was nervous, maybe even terrified.

“How would it look if I told him he can’t open here because two people who never should have had access to his confidential records got ahold of them and showed me that he might be using funds inappropriately?” Regina closed the file.

“You don’t have to tell him the whole story,” Emma suggested.

“He’s going to ask me my reasoning, Miss Swan.”

“Gold can’t be trusted,” Emma raised her voice as she sat up just a bit straighter. “You have all the proof you need to back that up in your hand.” Regina didn’t have an argument this time. “You can tell him you were reviewing his records to make sure everything was in order when you came across the incorrect numbers.” If she didn’t know better, she would think Regina was impressed with her.

“I don’t know,” Regina sounded unsure. That was understandable. But Emma had to settle the issue.

“Please.” Both Regina and Killian stared at Emma.

“I get the feeling there’s more to this story.” Emma was mentally kicking herself; she may have just blown it for them.

“There is, but we are not going to let personal issues get in the way of business.” Killian came to her rescue. Emma watched him slide his left hand into his jacket pocket while he kept his right hand in his lap. Regina sighed.

“I hate to admit it, but you two might have a point.” Emma and Killian’s heads jerked to the side so they were looking at each other in shock. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re right, the numbers don’t add up. I can’t risk it.” Neither Emma nor Killian wanted to say anything in case they ruined their win. “I will forbid Gold from opening in town.” Killian stood and extended his hand to Regina, who reluctantly shook. Emma followed Killian’s lead and shook hands with Regina next.

“Thank you, Madame Mayor.” Killian smiled.

“Yeah, thank you, Ms. Mills.”

“Of course. Thank you for bringing this information to my attention.” Emma and Killian started making their way to the door when they heard Regina start speaking again. “And if either of you two get into confidential records ever again or do anything else illegal, even for a good cause, I’ll have you arrested.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Understood.” Emma let out a relieved breath as she and Killian watched the door to Regina’s office close. They looked at each other for a moment before they both grinned. Killian pulled Emma into what can only be described as a bear hug.

“Thank you, Emma.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Killian. We did it together.” Emma pulled back to look at his face. A tear brimming with joy leaked from the corner of Killian’s eye and Emma brought her fingers to his cheek to brush it away. Both Killian and Emma jumped when someone came up next to them.

“So, good news I’m guessing?” Emma and Killian pulled apart and turned to face the intruder.

“Bugger off, mate,” Killian spoke through his teeth, stressing the “t” in “mate.”

“Oh, hey Robin.” Emma regained her composure. “Yeah, Regina said she’ll kick Gold out of Storybrooke.”

“That’s great! Congrats, you two!” Robin pulled them both in for a group hug.

“It was mostly Emma, mate.”

“Not true. I could never have done any of that without Killian.” Killian scratched the back of his ear and shrugged.

“Well congratulations anyway. I’m going to go celebrate with Regina.” Robin waved as he disappeared into Regina’s office. Emma turned back to Killian.

“So.” She wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“So,” he answered. “Do you maybe want to celebrate? Not tonight. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are too. But would you maybe want to come over tomorrow night after work?” Killian’s right hand assaulted the spot behind his ear.

“Sure. I’ll make us some victory cupcakes.”

“Do you like The Princess Bride? That’s your next novel. I thought we could watch it tomorrow night first.”

“Are you kidding? I love that movie! It’s inconceivable that anyone wouldn’t love that movie.” Killian smiled and let out a sigh of relief before laughing.

“Nice reference.”

“Thank you very much. So, tomorrow for breakfast, and tomorrow after work?” Emma was overjoyed that he still wanted to hang out with her, even if they didn’t have three feet of files to go through.

“Aye.”

“See you soon then.”

“See you soon, Swan.” She walked to her car, leaving him watching from the building. Dammit, Robin. What could’ve been.

Emma got to Killian’s apartment as soon as she could after closing her bakery for the day. Breakfast had gone completely normally, as if nothing had happened the previous night. She knew she should’ve been relieved, but she was slightly disappointed. She caught herself getting emotionally involved and mentally yelled at herself. She couldn’t do that again. She suppressed the disappointment and decided to enjoy having a best friend again, without any of that overcomplication. She knocked on Killian’s door, a box of Nutella cupcakes under her other arm. He opened the door and escorted her to his couch. She set the box of cupcakes onto Killian’s coffee table and he didn’t wait a single second before opening them to see what spoils she brought for them.

“Are these-”

“Your favorite? Yes.”

“Thank you, Emma.” She narrowed her eyes at him when he didn’t take a cupcake.

“You’re welcome. They’re cupcakes. Food. You eat them.”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, look, Emma-”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Look, Emma, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Don’t tell Robin, but even he wouldn’t do what you do for me. Thank you for being so understanding about the Gold thing. And about everything. You’re the best. Thank you for being my best friend.” He was totally sincere. He sounded so unsure of himself, but she knew the words came straight from the heart. And the words hit her, hard. She felt the same way. She hasn’t been so happy since before Ruby left. Ruby was the only best friend Emma had ever had, until Killian. She didn’t trust anyone, not even Ruby, the way she trusted him.

“Killian, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Emma. I know you don’t like the whole emotions thing. Don’t worry about it.” The one time she wouldn’t have minded saying something mushy and emotional, he had to go and stop her; normally she would have begged for that, but not this time.

“I-”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I just had to thank you.” Killian turned the light out as he put Netflix on his tv. Emma bit her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Killian was amazing, but he could be totally infuriating. She watched him grab a cupcake and sit back on the couch to watch the movie. The battle of wits was on the screen as Killian’s arm snaked around Emma’s shoulders. By the end of the movie, Emma was curled up against Killian, her legs curled up under her, and her head resting on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. It felt so natural, Emma didn’t even notice.

[gilescaroline1993]

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How Do You Get Your Ex Back