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beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

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While You Sleep

Chapter 13

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: sad. this chapter is sad. Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You were sitting at a stool in the compound’s kitchen when a familiar face walked in. Bucky had eventually explained to you that this was a sort of “headquarters” for the team. You felt a bit foolish having realized you never kept up much with these mighty heroes but you were eager to learn now. So far, you hadn’t encountered anyone you didn’t personally know on this famed team. Even now your eyes landed on the welcoming yet worried face of Steve.

“Morning,” you said, waving your fork before stabbing some of your scrambled eggs. Bucky had insisted on cooking for you despite your assurance you were fine but his cooking skills were....subpar. Still, nothing was inedible and you needed your strength back.

Steve reciprocated the greeting, saying your name with much excitement. “How are you feeling?” He added while making his way to the coffee pot. You chewed your eggs borderline viciously as you debated on an answer.

“I’m okay.” You gave a shrug, staring down at your plate. Part of you wanted to let more out but you ignored it.

Steve came back around to the counter, standing on the other side across from you. He held his coffee cup firmly, nervously almost. You could feel him watching you. That excitement he had said your name with felt like it was evaporating from the room slowly.

“That’s… good,” Steve said. “If you need someone to talk to we have plenty of resources and - and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You peaked a glance at him, confused. You placed your fork on the counter. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“I worry I led them right to you,” he explained, “like you two were separated for a reason.”

You frowned. You hadn’t thought about this - heck, you hadn’t thought about blaming anyone other than the disgusted men with such joyous evil looks in their eyes.

“Steve, I don’t think there was any way anyone could’ve prevented this.” You pushed your plate of food away. “They had their sights set. They had a plan, an optimism. It may have just been the soulmate experience in this case,” you sighed. Steve mumbled your name, shaking his head, but you continued, “And that’s fine. Love doesn’t come easy, right?”

“Being kidnapped is not part of being in love.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have an ex-assassin for a soulmate.”

Steve’s jaw went slack. You were staring him down now, practically begging him to say one more thing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve finally settled on. Ever the cool, calm, and collected star-spangled man. “You will recover and it’ll never happen again, we can promise you that.” His voice was serious as if every word ended with a period. You felt tears starting to well in your eyes. You wanted to say something, maybe ask for a hug or just… you didn’t know what, so you just sat there, slumped in your chair like a defeated puppy.

“Everything okay here?” A sudden voice made you jump. You and Steve turned towards the kitchen doorway where Bucky was standing, arms crossed, worry etched all over his face. It seemed to become his permanent expression now. Even when it was just you two, he always appeared on edge.

You nodded, turning back to collect your plate and take it to the sink. “We were just chatting.” You didn’t see the look you just knew Steve and Bucky were sharing.

When you turned back around to face the pair, Bucky had crossed the room, almost close enough to now be hovering over you. You flinched when he went to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t know why as you clearly didn’t think he was a threat but hadn’t you seen how threatening he could be? You lowered your head, fighting off the thoughts. He wasn’t like that to you and he had proven it time and time again. Why was it suddenly different?

Before either of the men could comment on your sudden hesitation, you said, “I’m going to go take a shower.” They just nodded, letting you exit.

***

When you got out of the shower and back into the room the team had lent you and Bucky for the time being, Bucky was waiting patiently on the bed. You lingered around the space, picking out some pajamas to wear, acting as normal as you could. You took in the space, still amazed by it. It was fairly large with top-notch amenities, including a luscious bed, spacious dresser, and television from technology you weren’t sure existed for the general public. It even had access to your own grand bathroom, saving you some war flashbacks of the communal restrooms at college.

You dipped back into the bathroom and got changed. While your intimacy with Bucky hadn’t been on the shy side, you weren’t in that kind of mood right now. Rightfully so, you would say.

Emerging once more, you noticed Bucky had made a sort of resting area for you on the bed. Your side was surrounded by blankets upon blankets and soft pillows. He even had a movie queued up for you two to watch. He laid waiting, his eyes practically begging you to come to him. After giving your hair a final wring, you gave in and crawled into the soft bed, letting all of you just melt into it.

“How are y-,”

“Bucky,” you sighed, turning towards him. He was laying on his side, staring down at your curled-up form. “Please don’t ask how I am.”

He nodded. “I get it, doll. I’m just worried about you. You seemed alright yesterday but today…” Yeah. You’d taken a dive. Your whole mood had shifted. Heck, your views on the world had shifted. As dramatic as it seemed, you were having a hard time snapping back. You weren’t even gone for over two days and yet the smallest thing...

“I think it’s just all settling in,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was just shock yesterday or something but realizing what all happened… Gosh, this probably seems so foolish to you.”

Bucky began shaking his head profusely. As gently as he could, he took your hand in his. You welcomed the action as you shifted under the makeshift mountain of blankets. “Don’t do that, honey. Don’t try to dismiss it or think what you’re feeling is foolish. You went through something so terrifying. You’re allowed to react to it.” He took a deep breath. “When we talked yesterday, I think I thought maybe they hadn’t gotten to you. That nothing had happened that would leave you torn up but you saw… a lot.”

You knew he wasn’t talking about just being exposed to Hydra and their twisted selves. “I did,” you hesitantly agreed. “And I fear it’s going to take a lot to recover.” Your words felt like you were delivering punch after punch to Bucky but where were you going to get if you weren’t honest?

“Anything you need, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his thumb drawing soft patterns on the back of your hand, sending shivers through you. “I’ll do anything to make it better.”

You nodded, averting your gaze to where your hands were connected. Your hand was so tense but you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing his. You relaxed it slightly and Bucky’s motions stopped.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, “can I ask you something?”

He hummed in response.

“What do I offer you?”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes staring you down. No doubt a concerned frown was playing on his lips. “What are you getting at here, honey?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “When I was… you know… the - the older man said that he didn’t understand why we would be paired together. They were determined to figure out what I offer you. What makes me so special.” A beat. “I really don’t know the answer.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. You glanced up at him again, his eyes now holding a different kind of anger. You felt bad for doubting yourself but the insecurity from the words of some random guy settled into your brain.

After a thoughtful moment, Bucky spoke, “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand what you give, not just to me, honey, but the world. You’re so fearless. You’re incredibly understanding. Not to mention how compassionate and bright you are…” His voice cracked slightly, breaking your heart a little. “You force me to remember that I’m not alone and I don’t have to be. And I just really hope I do the same for you.”

You could feel your own tears forming as you shifted just a bit closer to your soulmate. You weren’t quite touching but you could still feel his presence. It was as comfortable as you could get right now and Bucky seemed to respect that.

“I hope I’ll be okay,” you confessed. “Eventually.”

It quite amazed you how fast stuff could change within yourself. You woke up from being rescued with the more extravagant hopes and overwhelming relief of just making it out alive. But then you remembered the price of you making it out alive. What you had to witness to get there. And then the thoughts of actually being back in that position rushed over you. Needless to say, it was weird. Simply weird. Unlike anything you had encountered before.

Bucky soon nodded, encouragingly. You hated putting anything else on him but he had become part of the memories now. It was one thing to see him in dreams and another to watch it just feet away from you.

With a choking sob, he said, “Me too, doll.”

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graysonsdarling · 4 years ago

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in the rain

places where people kiss: in the rain

word count. 1.7k

warnings. extremely cliché kiss sjfdknkd

author’s note. i have spent WAY too much time on this thing for it to not be good... and rewritten it like 3!! times!! and i literally have to wake up early for a google meeting and im queuing this at 3:02 am rn

Dick didn’t have the slightest clue as to what drew him to you. Maybe it was your eyes, full of life and curiosity. Or had it been that smile of yours? God, that smile. It swirled butterflies in his stomach. It was blinding, but he couldn’t help but stare straight into it. If your smile was the sun, then he was Icarus. His feelings came with ease, becoming a complete free fall for him. Around you, he was warm as though he had been wrapped in a blanket of love. You sent him the same exhilarating rush that falling from a trapeze did when he was younger. Yeah, how could he not fall for you?

Even sitting in a quaint coffee shop across from you made him almost forget how to breathe. His eyes fell upon your lips and he wondered how they would feel against his. How would you kiss? Would it be soft and chaste, or passionate and needy? There was one thing he knew for sure though; it would be all-consuming. There was a faraway look in your eyes—all thoughtful and he wished to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. Your elbow was rested on the table as your fingers went to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear absentmindedly. The action made him silently wish it was him who pushed back your hair instead.

“What?” you had asked him, plush lips slightly agape.

He blinked, snapping out of his lovesick trance, hand coming up to hold his chin. “Huh?” was all that left Dick’s mouth, too caught off guard by you to form a better response. He wanted to slap himself for getting caught looking at you like a total creep. What were you doing to him?

“You’re staring.”

“Oh,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

You giggled. Dick’s heart leaped out of his chest at the sound, and all he could think was that he was the reason for it. He wanted to be the reason for your laughter for the rest of time. “It’s okay, you’re not so bad on the eyes either, Grayson.”

Dick choked on his coffee, which he quickly masked with a cough. But the look on your face told him you had noticed. His ears turned a soft shade of pink. “I wasn’t—“

“I’m just teasing you, Dick. You should be very familiar with that by now—I didn’t think I could make you flustered though.” An amused smirk played on your pretty lips.

He pushed away the desperate thought of needing to kiss you to the back of his mind and rolled his eyes at you. “I’m not flustered.” Though the clear heat in his cheeks did nothing to aid his argument. He watched as you pressed your lips together in a line before taking a long sip of your drink, nodding along. He could almost hear the sarcastic quip from the look in your eyes.

Your head cocked toward the window, watching as dark gray clouds quickly enveloped the sky. “It’s going to rain.”

“When’s it not?”

His eyes met yours, an unamused look on your face from his comment, though it had soon softened. “Fair enough. Do you want to head out now so we don’t get caught in the storm?”

Not really, Dick thought. He’d rather spend all the time in the world with you. He nodded in agreement anyway. The two of you stood up and he smoothed down his clothes with his hands. After leaving a nice tip on the table, you quickly made your way out of the building. The rain began sooner than you had predicted and he felt you grab his hand, pulling him with you as you run to the nearest cab. He could only hear the loud thumping of his heart, which drowned out the sound of the pouring rain and the taps of your footsteps against the wet concrete. Once you stopped at an empty taxi, he held open the door for you to slide in.

“Aren’t you getting in?” you asked him, looking puzzled by the way he stood in the rain, continuing to get soaked by the second.

He paused for a moment. He had planned to hail his own cab, thinking this was where you parted ways. Quickly, he rushed in next to you after hearing the cries of the taxi driver, upset that the leather in his car was getting wet. He didn’t have time to feel bad though, because his eyes trailed towards you as you began to spout off his address. Your clothes were practically soaked through, and the hair you probably spent a considerable amount of time on was stuck messily to your face. You still looked gorgeous.

The warmth of your presence enthralled him. It felt like sunshine on his skin, and he felt himself leaning into you, almost going in to close the distance between you in the back of this dingy cab that smelled a lot like little tree air fresheners. Yeah, he would rather not have his first kiss with you be in here.

You cleared your throat under his watchful gaze. Your eyes went to examine the water on your shoes before moving up to watch the little cat figurine mounted on the dash endlessly beckoning. He noted the way your hands fidgeted, switching the position of your legs every minute or so. Still, in this state of nervousness, he’s in awe of you. He wondered what would make you feel this way. Him, perhaps? Dick hoped so.

“Want to get dinner with me tomorrow?” he asked softly, words leaving his mouth without a second thought. Though his heart began to pound.

“Sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you teased, not paying much attention to him as your gaze was now set on the car window. His eyes followed your index finger which absentmindedly traced the raindrops sliding down the glass.

“What if I am?”

He watched as your finger came to a stop. Worries instantly filled Dick’s mind. Had he fucked up? Was he wrong about all the signs? Maybe you hadn’t felt the same, making him look like a complete idiot to you and the taxi driver sat in front. A hundred different scenarios about how you’d let him down ran through his head. You were too nice and sweet to be mean about it. Instead, you would gently tell him you viewed him as a friend. Kindness was one of the things he loved about you. The thought nonetheless hurt.

There would be no turning back now. Things would be too weird after this. You wouldn’t want to see him again. Those many years of friendship? It was all thrown out the window. All because of a silly little sentence he uttered. He could hear Jason snorting at him, overly amused at the thought of playboy Dick Grayson being turned down. Nice going, Grayson.

The wait for your response felt like an eternity. An eternity of accepting the inevitable "no." His heart was hollow, and he wanted the world to swallow him whole. The bitter taste of the coffee he had came back. It overwhelmed the sweetness he felt with you earlier. He thought he got used to its harsh taste. But it came back with a foreign feeling, one he didn’t particularly enjoy. Rejection, he supposed. Dick doesn't think he could ever have another coffee again after this.

You blinked, seemingly processing his words. Maybe coming up with a carefully articulated rejection as to not hurt him? He prepared himself, ready to face rejection face first.

“Then,” you drew out, “I would say yes.”

The words reached his ears with such saccharine sweetness, almost akin to the taste of the raspberry filling of the bismark he enjoyed earlier. It was almost too good to be true, and for a second, he asked himself if it was real. He wondered if you were a hallucination and if you’d disappear if he blinked. But the beat of his heart calmed down, the breath he had been clinging onto was released with relief. He grinned widely, feeling like the luckiest person in the world right now.

His hand began to move on its own accord, almost reaching your delicate fingers before coming to a halt as the taxi driver’s gruff voice filled the air. The car came to a stop. Your head turned towards the man and you told him you were being dropped off at a different place, briefly mentioning you’d pay for the entire trip much to Dick’s objection. You quickly brushed him off. Repay me with dinner tomorrow, you had said. He reluctantly agreed, not wanting to cause the cab driver any more grief than he had already. He opened the car door, glancing back at you with a shy smile and a quick goodbye before sprinting towards his building’s doors.

But his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the shadow of you in the back window. It steadily disappeared from his sight, leaving him to continue getting drenched in the cold rain. The thought of you left a giddiness in his heart. Dick was just about to reach the cover of his building before he was tugged around, a pair of lips meeting his own feverishly. He soon melted into the sudden touch once realizing it was, in fact, you. Dick could taste the lip balm you had applied earlier in the day. The scent of it was strong as if you had reapplied it just to kiss him. Had you?

There was also the faint taste of the drink you had consumed in the coffee shop. The taste alone had never appealed to him before, but Dick thinks he could have it every day if it was off your lips. He felt your hands reach up behind his head, pulling him further towards you. His hands instinctively flew down to your waist, holding you like it’s the only chance he’ll get—still not sure if his mind is playing tricks on him or not.

Still, he’s drowning in you, and to him, it would be a death he’d gladly accept.

He yearned to have your lips touching his again, the second you broke away. His forehead pressed gently against yours, a soft reminder that you were real and right in front of him.

You exhaled, whispering as softly as the pattering of the rain, “See you tomorrow?”

#the way im trying to decide if i want the word count or authors notes on the top when it literally doesnt matter at all #edit: it really doesnt matter now bc i forgot this was a prompt and i always put those first #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #titans x reader #titans imagine

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blastedking · 3 years ago

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Hello. I am a simple hermit who would like to bring a message.

I want to thank you for all your art this year, both written and non. I've been following your ULF comics ever since you posted that first page, and it's been an amazing journey to watch your style change and become cleaner and improve over time. Your stories that you've written have also most certainly been a highlight, I always looked forward to new chapters every Saturday. I especially loved Kilchoan and the lore you've woven into the background of your comics, it's definitely well thought-out and it has always been a pleasure to read.

The fact that you've been able to keep your comics and writings consistent has been really amazing. I saw your post about your finals grind and I know you'll be taking a break to really concentrate on your schooling (good luck with all of it, by the way), but the fact that you still have enough queued for weeks and months anyway? Absolutely incredible. I hope you are proud of yourself, especially because I definitely think you should be. You more than deserve it.

I can't wait to see what the new year brings for you and your artwork. But even if you do take pauses and breaks here and there, I won't mind at all. You've already made such wonderful and amazing work already and it'd be worth any wait necessary.

May your new year bring peace, hope, and happiness. I wish you well in all your endeavors, both artistic and not.

Oh, my dear hermit - what you doing, you bring tears to my eyes!

This is such a lovely and wonderful message and it truly makes me all goopy inside. In the good way obviously. Thank you SO much. This really means a lot to me and I do fail spectacularly to put these feelings into words right now because you just hit on so many points dear to me that I’m left flailing helplessly here. <3

(I have to say, the pointing out of Kilchoan really hits hard (in a good way again), because I was kinda nervous in a way about that one (not unsure mind you, I do like Kilchoan a lot too. xD). But all the other three stories before had more of a direct link to the ehh “official canon” - while Kilchoan really just is out there on its own, living its best life. While yes, Zargothrax is there, and Ralathor to an extent too, there are a lot of OCs in it too. And I know that kind of stuff isn’t always the most well-received.)

Following the whole thing from the very start - I have to say since I’ve been queuing up some of the old art - it’s been a ride. I’m very happy with where I am art wise right now, especially comparing it to my art two years ago. (Yes I will still stress again and again that it’s really a shaky comparison to make myself because I came into this fandom out of a year-long hiatus from drawing ANYTHING at all. I was very VERY rusty xD ). Thank you for sticking around!

But yes - I’ve been prepping for this finals grind for a while now (basically since the beginning of the year because I knew it was coming and I’d need the time) - the only thing I didn’t manage to finish for the life of me is “Return to Darkness” - Which I really, really wanted to have done by this point. But that thing has gotten longer than planned. I am at the finale now so - that’s good. But chances are good it will first drop after the finals are over. BUT that’s alright. x)

AGAIN

Thank you so so much! I hope you’ll have a fantastic new year! And if that year happens to have you stick around some more around these parts, I wouldn’t say no to that! ✨

#King's speech #anon #ask #universelawoffire #my heart is melting #long post

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generalfoolish · 4 years ago

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Aay'han

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: lots of bad space language, talk of Bo-Katan and Death Watch, mentions of lost family, Soft!Luke (needs a tag), maybe some lusting over Luke? He's handsome, y'all, mad!Mando, some Grogu because I can't help myself, some nightmare talk/horror type themes-blink and you'll miss it though

Word count: ~2.4K

Pairing: (eventually!!!) Din Djarin x F!reader

Summary: Two Mandalorians on the road to Dagobah, in search of a Jedi.

A/N: Hey babes! This is number six of the #mandomay2021 prompt list. This one is soooo self-indulgent, but it's pretty exposition heavy. Our sweet mandalorian doesn't know Mando's story like we do, so bear with me! Enjoy 💕

Masterlist | Cyare'se | Partaylir

Mando is silent as he toggles the destination into nav, and remains silent long after the jump into hyperspace. You don’t know what to do. The cockpit isn’t cramped, but you feel like your thoughts are too loud. You wonder if he can hear you thinking.

If he could hear you, he’d know that you were second guessing this whole quest. You had once been spurred on by hate and loss and grief, but in the starkness of this new ship you think you may have run head-long into something you couldn’t control.

You wonder, not for the first time since meeting Mando, if your resolve is weakening or if you’re simply intrigued by this mandalorian.

As if he could read your thoughts, Mando turned to face you.

“I’m not sure that Skywalker will be much help. I have hope, but I need you to know that it may not be productive.” He sounded so earnest, that all you could do was raise your shoulders in a pitiful shrug.

“Where is Skywalker?” You asked quietly.

“Dagobah. It’s a swamp planet.”

“I’m not sure I know it.” You thought back to the last time you mapped the galaxy. It had been a long time.

“You wouldn’t. It’s almost Wild Space. Further south than Naboo.” You nodded, then considered it.

“That’s across the galaxy?”

“Yeah, but he’s the only one who would know anything. Except for Bo-Katan, but we both have reasons to avoid her.” He added, wistfully.

“You do?” You asked, and Mando shook his head.

“Yeah, but it’s a long story.” You shrugged, it didn’t really matter. As long as you were on the same page when it came to clan Kryze. You sat back in the seat, and Mando turned back around. You wondered about his motives. He had mentioned having a son, one that could still be hunted by the Empire. But, he was alone. And there was no covert on Nevarro. If he was staying away from Bo-Katan, then the son wasn’t likely near Mandalore. You narrowed your eyes as you worked through it.

You didn’t have children, not your own. Your Tribe had been very closely knit, and you had loved and looked over the children. They were why you had thrown yourself into this plot. You would never leave them behind, though. If you had them in your arms, would your hate dissipate as well? He mentioned loved ones, and you wondered again about his entanglements. Was there a Tribe? More hidden? His son had been hunted, was his Tribe destroyed along with the covert?

You wouldn't speculate anymore.

“Mando, where’s your ad?” He stiffened visibly. You worried you had crossed a line, one that you couldn’t easily retreat from.

“Why?” His voice was terse, and his shoulders remained tense.

“If he’s alive, you should be with him? This is a suicide mission, you said so yourself. Why would you agree if you had a son who was waiting for you?” You prodded. It felt important to know. You needed to know what kind of man he was, that’s what you told yourself, anyway.

You needle people, that inner voice told you. You needle and push until they’re gone.

Minutes passed before you heard Mando sigh, long enough that you had started to regret ever getting on the ship.

“He’s in training. He’s a foundling.” You nodded, but didn’t fully understand. Training for what? Combat? Guns? A bounty hunting mandalorian should be able to handle that.

“Training?” You asked, no longer able to keep your question at bay. He exhaled loudly, and turned to face you, the tension released from his shoulders.

“He is with Skywalker. They’re Jedi.” He told you plainly. As if that explained anything.

“Jedi?” You scrambled trying to remember if your buir had ever mentioned Jedi in your lessons. You recalled their weapon, the jetii’kad, a laser sword, you thought.

“They use the Force.” He told you, confusion laced in his words. “I...I’ve seen it. They use their powers and laser swords to fight. I have seen things I can’t explain.” You listened intently. You had only heard the stories, the reason Mandalore needed a Mand’alor, and the reason mandalorians wore beskar. But even in your wildest machinations they weren’t true, just stories for the children to cling to. Something to believe in, when everything else seemed helpless.

“The jetii are real? You said “they,” are they more than one?”

“Mm. Two, well three if you count the kid.” You closed your eyes under the helmet, and wished you could rub your face. It didn’t seem real. You turned your attention to the streaking colors of hyperspace. It wasn’t impossible that Jedi would be real. The dark saber was real, you had heard the chatter. A mysterious mandalorian, one without ties, wielded it now.

Your eyes snapped back to Mando. A mysterious mandalorian, one without ties.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. This guy wasn’t the Mand’alor.

Why else would he be running from Bo-Katan?

He’s connected to the Jedi.

The Mand’alor a Child of the Watch from a backwater like Nevarro?

It would be impossible...right?

You snapped your eyes back to Mando. He had busied himself with the control panel, seemingly lost in thought.

“Mando?” He turned toward you slowly, his body language a question.

“Why are you hiding from Bo-Katan? I don’t care if it’s a long story.” He sighed at your request. He didn’t answer, he simply stood and left the cockpit. You sat up straight, fear creeping up your spine. You had pushed too far.

He returned after a moment, though it didn’t seem as though he had grabbed anything. Confusion replaced your fear, and you leaned forward on your knees.

“I kind of made a promise to her that I never intended to keep. She knows my face, and I have something she wants. I just need to keep space between us.” You narrowed your eyes again, his story sounding like bantha shit.

“Okay, Mando. We’ll stay off her radar.” You told him, but that dark voice crept up from your stomach and filled your throat with bile. Something was wrong. He was lying.

“Well, this is Dagobah. Nowhere to land. At least an X Wing will be easy to spot.” Mando muttered from the pilot chair. You said nothing. In fact, you had more or less kept silent for the few days it took to travel. Mando seemed to operate quietly usually, so it didn’t bother him. Or if it had, he hadn’t voiced it. You had been keeping in the hold, for the most part, as well. Keeping distance seemed the proper course for now. Until you could parce out why he had lied about Bo-Katan. A growing part of you was terrified you’d awaken to him standing over you, wielding that damn dark saber. Your thoughts ping ponged from the saber to Bo-Katan, and when you could finally put them out of mind, you were assaulted with the new information about the Jedi.

You were having trouble processing. And you had kept your crikking helmet on for far too long.

At last, you had seen the planet looming in the darkness of space, massive and green. You’d have answers soon. You had a mental inquiry for this Skywalker, ranging from Mandalore to the New Republic. The Empire side-lined for a moment, was queued up after your current thoughts were sorted. It was too much.

Mando piloted the ship easily down into the muggy swamp. You wrinkled your nose, and were actually thankful for your helmet. It would filter out the worst of the smell. Mando had set the ship down on the, seemingly, only piece of dry land. It housed another ship, the X wing, you presumed.

He motioned for you to follow, and you complied. Not speaking for almost a week had it’s advantages, the two of you had become masters of nonverbal signals. You looked around outside of the ship. Skughole, that was your only thought. Crikking skughole. Not even a port. Mando walked forward, and you followed behind.

You heard the man before you saw him. He was cursing a blue streak through the muggy air. He wasn’t what you expected. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but the lean, human male wasn’t it. He was dressed in tan, loose fitting clothes, and was covered in the bluish mud. His brown hair hung messily in his face, which was plastered with sweat.

You tore your eyes away from the only Jedi you had ever seen, and gaped at what you saw. A massive boulder was levitating in front of him. It was just floating there, in the open space. You turned quickly to Mando, and he nodded once at you. It felt like a confirmation that you weren’t insane. That what was happening was real.

Not that you had time to dwell on it. Before you could blink, the rock imploded. Tons of small rocks fell to the mud, and the man exhaled loudly.

“Mandalorian. I’ve been expecting you.” The Jedi panted, before walking over.

“Grogu?” Mando asked. You blinked in confusion. It wasn’t Mando’a. Or any other language you knew.

“He’s napping. We’ve been training hard. Searching for more of his kind. My Master was one of his species, and I believe there to be more here. This planet…” He trailed off before turning to face you. “Apologies, I am Luke Skywalker, a Jedi Master. The Jedi Master, I guess? There’s not many of us left. Not to worry,” he added, leveling a kind look at you, “You travel with a kind man.” Mando snapped his head down at you, but you were as confused as him.

“Can Jedi read minds?” Luke laughed and wiped his forehead off.

“No. I can sense that you are nervous though.”

“With the Force?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You had never had to filter emotions more than through your voice. The beskar hid everything else. You felt Mando’s eyes on you, burning through what was left of your shield.

“Kind of. Let’s get some food, yeah? Grogu needs to eat, and I’m sure he’ll be excited to see you, Mando.” You followed Luke, but you could feel Mando’s eyes on you the short walk to the hut. Luke dipped into the small hole, and disappeared inside.

“You don’t trust me?” Mando asked, gruffly, as soon as Luke was out of earshot.

“No. You lied to me.” You leveled. He scoffed, putting his hands on his hips.

“You lied to me!” Exasperated, you yanked your helmet off.

Of course, you regretted that immediately. The smell of the swamp nearly gagged you. You hadn’t gotten acclimated to it at all, and it hit you full on. Mando took a neat step backward, hands mid air, helmet looking down. Luke was walking out with bowls, and peeking around his leg was a long green ear.

Your eyebrows pulled together, and you opened your mouth to say something--anything. But Luke beat you to it.

“Oh criff.”

You sat with Luke, helmet beside you on the log, and faced the fire. Mando had taken a walk with Grogu.

“What makes you so apprehensive to the warrior?” Luke asked, slurping stew from the bowl. You looked at him, aglow from the flames, and sucked your teeth. You didn’t know their relationship, but you couldn’t hide it from the Jedi.

“I think he has the dark saber.” Luke nodded.

“Would this be an issue?” You considered it for a moment.

“I don’t know. I keep having nightmares. He...strikes me down with it.” Luke drained his bowl, and sat it aside.

“Why would he do that?” Luke asked, full attention on you.

“That’s what I’m nervous about. He doesn’t have a reason. Unless, he thinks I’m a threat to him. Luke, do you know the story?” He shook his head, and you thought about it. “My buir, sorry my Mom, taught me many lessons of the mandalorians. My father was lost during one of the many civil wars. I saw the destruction and horror first hand, as I’m sure Mando did. The difference though, is that his people were the ones that murdered mine. It’s hard to separate the man from the myth.” Luke nodded thoughtfully.

“I am afraid I know little of Mandalorian lore, but I have seen my share of pain and betrayal. We cannot always know what path is right, but we can trust in the Force to lead us there. What does your gut tell you about Mando?” You sat silently, staring deep into the flames before you. You had been turning it over since Nevarro.

“He’s safe.” You told the Jedi, so quietly it was almost lost to the crackling fire. But the man beside you nodded, and patted your knee. You looked down and saw that his hand was mechanical. You snapped your eyes up to his face, and his eyes twinkled at you. You heard a twig snap and your eyes shot to the source, fingers wrapping around your blaster.

You saw Mando’s beskar reflecting in the low light, and the curl of his arm, before you heard the child’s babbling.

Mando was a mystery, but Grogu had stolen your heart immediately. He had been in Mando’s arms, cooing, since he woke up. Mando, for his part, had nodded and participated in the very one sided conversation.

You offered Mando a small smile when he approached, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“It is a bittersweet reunion for him.” Luke told you quietly, when Mando dipped into the hut.

“Why?” You asked, watching the hut closely.

“He knows he must leave him. Grogu’s training takes precedence, but their bond is strong.”

“Ah, we have a word for this: aay’han. It is both mourning and joy at once.”

“Aay’han,” Luke echoed the Mando’a back perfectly, and you thought it sounded lovely. “Such a beautiful word, the meaning is interesting. I would like to know more of your culture, someday. First, I am seeking my own.” You smiled at Luke as he stretched beside you. It had been days since you had truly spoken.

You hated this swamp planet, but you were growing fond of its inhabitants. Aay’han, indeed.

**Translations

Aay’han: bittersweet

Ad: son

Buir: parent

Mand’alor: Ruler of Mandalore

Jetii: Jedi

Jetii’kad: lightsaber

#the mandalorian #star wars #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #mandomay2021 #din djarin #Din Djarin x reader #Luke skywalker #jedi master #aay'han #bittersweet #grogu #mando and grogu #grogu and luke #mando x fem!reader

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Autumn in My Heart (Taeyong x you, you x Jaehyun)

hello, another fic I made that flopped, but I want to bring this back with another pairing. I love this, still one of the angst I made that I feel okay to post.

One shot - angst/fluff

a/n : Taeyong sounds like a bad boyfriend, but trust me he isn’t. Jaehyun is the rebound you found in the middle of a storm.

(Posted on wattpad before, and one in tumblr as an exo pairing but only got 1 notes ☹)

Enjoy

The picturesque scene of red and orange trees cannot fool the dull and sombre race of falling leaves pulled by the gravity. Be honest, autumn is depressing. See the falling leaves, dying every time a gush of cold wind tingles. (y/n) hates seeing the piles of dead leaves on the ground, she feels like the trees are selfish that they let the leaves die in order to survive.

The clock strikes six when you have put on your tailor fitted Pea coat from Schott’s. Tonight, your favorite fragrance from Chloe accompanies you. You inhale your favorite floral scent and get ready as your smart watch rings with a caller ID you love dearly. Your lover has rung you up saying he is downstairs waiting for you to take your time. You make your last tuck on your Pea coat and pocket your phone as you slipped your feet to the leather boots. You make sure to kiss your corgi good bye before keeping the key in your pocket and slightly run to meet the waiting prince; your waiting prince!

The elevator ride almost killed you; you frown whenever the door opens and what greet you are the foreign faces of your neighbor from other floors; after pressing the close button five more times, you finally reach your destination. With your round eyes you scan the whole room and find your prince in no time. His fashion and his tall body make him easy to spot.

“Taeyong! I’m here, let’s go!” you cling into the taller man’s arm and giddily drag him out of the warm lobby. The early cold wind harshly welcomes both of you outside; Taeyong clears his throat and pulls you closer. He takes in your small hand, holds it firm in his big hand, and pops it nicely into his toasty pocket of his Burberry trench coat. “It’s starting to get cold,” Taeyong smiles.

You blush, even when Taeyong had done this for three consecutive autumns, your heart will always beat like it was your first time. You did nothing though and just follow his long legs that bring them to a place you know a bit too much.

“Usual place Yong?”

The tall blonde man nods and after walking through the busy streets, you found yourself in a restaurant district. Your stomach growl when the delicious smell of your favorite food can be smelled from a meter. You both sit down on your usual chairs, place the same ordinary menu; a Hawaiian pizza slice for you and a Pepperoni for Taeyong. Though Taeyong never agrees that pineapple goes with pizza, he never speaks his opinion out loud to you, he just can’t. Try and say that to a person who really enjoys it and do you dare see their heart breaks? No Taeyong doesn’t want to break her heart; it’s the last thing he wanted to do to (Y/n).

Dinner is amazing. Over two slices of giant pizza and soda, you exchange stories, laugh over new jokes, and secretly treasure this sweet moment. You both end their pizza date with a split bill and with the warmth of a full stomach. The couple make their way out of the bright, fragrance road and move to another crowded and romantic district.

You told Taeyong about a new milkshake shop opening in here in Gangnam, and Taeyong will do everything that brings a smile to your face. With you standing close by his side, Taeyong naturally slides his arm to hug your slim waist from the side as he reads the menu in the TV from the queuing line.

The café is full of sweet couples, the atmosphere here is so warm and comfortable, Taeyong knows this will 99% become their favorite hangout place.

“We’re so sorry, but we sold the second last cup already… We only have one left for the special house favorite’s chocolate,” the man with a name tag reading Doyoung, smiles apologetically to the two sweet couple across him.

You run your eyes to the TV screen to look for another substitute, but Taeyong was faster.

“No problem, an extra straw will do. How much for the last cup?” Taeyong hands Doyoung his card and swipes the bill.

You squeal deep inside your heart, how come Taeyong could always do a new sweet action every time we go out?!

“You sure don’t want anything else?” you ask when Taeyong lets go off his straw after a good five sips.

Taeyong shakes his head and raises his thumb to wipe a trace of chocolate from your lips, “No, you can have them all. It tastes good and I know you like them so much.” Taeyong kisses his thumb and cleans the chocolate from your lips.

You playfully punch Taeyong, “What’s into you?! Why are you suddenly this sweet!”

Taeyong laughs it off and rolls his eyes, “Because I am a nice boyfriend? Come on admit it—” you shut him off with a quick peck “—I’m going to have heart attack (y/n), if you are making that a habit.”

After making a loud sip to ensure you leave nothing on the bottom of the glass, you and Taeyong step out of the lovely café. Both of you freeze when you see people carrying umbrellas and celebrating something.

“The first snow!” Both of you choir and giggle upon welcoming the cold winter!

You reach for a folded umbrella you had brought in your pocket and this time take the lead to pull the taller man closer and tries your best to raise the umbrella to his height. Taeyong cannot oppress his gummy smile and allows you do your thing.

“I am not taking care of a sick Taeyong again, that’s why I read the weather forecast earlier and they predicted the first snow the fall. Turns out they were accurate this year, come Yong let’s walk under the first snow!” you sneakily place your hand into Taeyong’s coat and the taller simply holds your hand.

You both have fun for a moment under the first snow, took some pictures and updated your social media platforms.

“The snow is falling harder; shall we head home?” Taeyong worries for your health. The two of you are responsible for coming on working days, falling sick is something you two can’t afford.

You do not refuse; along your careful steps on the slippery grounds the couple doesn’t stop talking at all. You will find new topics whenever a topic seems to come to an end. Tonight is a good date night. The date night ends with Taeyong ushering you back to your Apartment room.

“Goodbye Yongie, thank you for tonight!” you shake your wet umbrella.

“No problem sweetie, I’ll be going now,”

“Wait—” you run to your room and return not long after it, you get on the tip of your toes and wrap a warm red scarf over Taeyong “—take that with you, it’s my winter present. Stay safe okay and call me when you got home.” you bury your face on his chest as he hugs you tight.

“Thanks honey, Good night.” Taeyong steps back and waves his hand.

You wiggle your hand in panic, “Oh take the umbrella! And please just grab a taxi!” you push your umbrella to Taeyong’s hand.

Taeyong chuckles and tousles your soft hairs, “Yes maam! I can take care of myself—” Taeyong winks and you only roll your eyes. The tall blonde makes his stealing move and kiss the plump lips of yours before finally going back home.

Sun rises and sets, moon shines and hides, the world rotates, and time runs. Your love for each other blooms, although the relationship has ups and downs, the two of you can overcome the big waves and sail your ship to another calm ocean. A calm sea will never make a skilful sailor, and one day the biggest wave crashes to their ship, and you feel like you are forcefully drowned into the dark deep grief of heart breaks.

The road is crowded, well at least there are cars speeding in the road, and your sparkly eyes are fixed on a “sweet” scene in front of you. Yeah sweet if the people you saw were someone you did not know, or your best friend; but seriously not sweet if it’s your boyfriend you saw over the road holding hands with another pretty girl, wrapped in an expensive suit looking all lovey dovey with your man. Maybe Taeyong did not know or see you on the other side of the road, but you cannot mistake that man as someone else. Your eyes turn red; you fetch your phone and take the speed dial to call Taeyong. You wait for a moment with your eyes fixed on the two people across you.

The pedestrian traffic turns green, and you see the two of them walking to cross the road. You quickly hide yourself in an old payphone box while still listening to the waiting tone and keeping an eye on Taeyong. When Taeyong made it with the sweet smiling guy to the same street as yours, you swear your call was sent to voicemail. Taeyong also presses his screen earlier, hufth he didn’t even hesitate to reject your call. Insteaad, Taeyong looks so happy walking with this new girl. Your jealousy and suspicion completely take over you, you lean over the small phone box and stare at your screen emptily.

“Sorry, busy can’t pick up your call.” taeyong’s message appears in his notification bar.

You swallow the stuck lump in your throat; disappointed and angry, you run back to your apartment. You were planning to buy dinner and surprise Taeyong in his office for working overtime. If his vocabulary for overtime means having a walk with another woman, heol you won’t bother coming to see him.

You lock yourself in your room and cry your heart out, your stomach grumbles, but your heart aches more. You ignore all of the calls and messages in your phone. Thirty minutes later you wipe your eyes and after ensuring your heart you need to do this: you text a number.

“Yuta, you’re right… I’m coming to the dinner tomorrow. What’s his name again?”

This time you regret not listening to your friends when they warned you about your boyfriend playing fire behind your back. You are too naïve and blunt to realize Taeyong has slowly changed. He was not as sweet as he used to, he got busy, and he rarely picked your calls. At first you simply forgive him; thinking he must be busy with his works, turns out you are living blindly.

Taeyong paces in his room while sticking phone to his ear. He bites his lips when the line beeps but no one seems to answer the call.

“Pick up. Pick up (Y/n)…. Please… I’m worried sick…” Taeyong ends the waiting and jumps to the message room. He sends more messages asking if you are okay, why are you not picking up calls, and why are you not reading his messages.

Taeyong feels guilty rejecting your call earlier, but he cannot pick the call there when he thinks his coworker has a big crush and is flirting with him. Taeyong cannot bring himself to answer the call and crushes the cute girl’s dream. Yes, his co-worker is lately clinging on his side, and Taeyong cannot lie and say she’s unattractive. She is a calm and nice woman, good with works, and Taeyong finds it hard to keep his heart stable when she’s around.

Taeyong thought he saved the girl from crying in the streets, when in reality his real girlfriend is the one crying on the busy streets… by herself. Poor Taeyong doesn’t know this.

The next morning, you did not bat an eye nor reply any of Taeyong’s messages. You muted his number and prepare for work. As you spray your perfume, the front door beeps open and a tall man you used to love, but now hate, shows up with a bouquet of yellow flowers on his hand.

“Good morning sunshine! What’s with the cloudy face?” Taeyong extends his hand to give you the arrangement.

You look at his sickening handsome smile and walk to take your working bag. “Nothing. I’m tired of work and this life full of lies.”

Taeyong frowns, “What do you mean?”

You just hum an “I don’t know” tone and occupy yourself with packing your lunch and laptop.

Taeyong walks to the kitchen table and picks your phone, he scrolls through the notifications and shakes his head, “WOW! You haven’t opened my text, not a single one! Why?” he sounds confused.

You’re the type to always have your phone on your nose almost every second, what’s with leaving him unread?

You snatch your phone, “I fell asleep earlier yesterday after you said I shouldn’t come and have dinner with you, since you’re taking overtime.”

Taeyong sighs, “Come on (y/n), you’re acting like this just because I denied your offer to eat dinner together?” you walk away.

“Don’t act so childish. We can always have dinner together tonight or other nights.” Taeyong snaps.

You keep your cold face on; take your lunch and working bag, and slip into your shoes. Taeyong shadows you all over the place.

“Really? Then why did you cancel it yesterday?” You hold on to the door knob.

“I had a sudden meeting.” Taeyong lies quickly.

“Oh so now you call walking with another woman without companion, while acting lovely is your definition of meeting. To me I call that a secret date mister!” you stomp your foot, “Now go! Leave! I am tired of your lies!!” you exit the room, but Taeyong holds a grip of your hand.

“but…” Taeyong is cut off by your voice “For your information Taeyong, I saw you with my own eyes walking with a woman and rejecting my call.” you raise your tone and his face turns red. You break your hand free and rush to the parking lot.

Taeyong runs after you, but luck must’ve left him today for the lift closes before he can reach you. You are clearly mad and fed up, for you are not trying to do anything to clean up the misunderstanding.

Your day goes on differently, you are still absorbed in the sadness and pain, while Taeyong… Taeyong thinks today’s problem will end like any others. His day is smooth and the woman from yesterday even offers him coffee. Upon seeing Taeyong busy checking his phone; waiting for someone to call or chat; she asks him, “What’s bothering you?”

Taeyong thinks for a while, should he tell her what actually happened, but what if things get darker and dangerous? After some consideration, Taeyong decides to use the help chance. He told her what happened yesterday and earlier this morning. She just laughs and comes up with a solution, “I can help you clarify this… Give me her number, I’ll talk to her.”

Taeyong denies that idea at first, but after some more convincing words from her, he gave up your phone number to her. He thought maybe you would listen to her.

Sure, her idea was not completely wrong, You answers her call in a friendly manner and you did not blame her for anything. You listened to all of her kind and sincere explanation, but your heart still cannot easily forgive Taeyong for doing it.

You dress up nicely in a bomber jacket and put on a cap to hide your puffy eyes. You take your step to greet your date tonight, the man Yuta told him about. Jung Jaehyun, son of the CEO of Neo corporation: Korea’s first leading group in food supply, while Taeyong is the son of the second leading group.

To put it into words, Jaehyun is a man of daydream. He is everything you expected when meeting a living prince charming. He talks in his deep voice, his choice of words are amazing, his fashion taste is casual yet daydreaming, his manners are polished as perfect as one can be, but no matter how nice and perfect Jaehyun is, your heart cannot stop comparing him to Taeyong. Taeyong is not as perfect as him, Taeyong is more of the clumsy type and silly. However, one thing for sure, you like Jaehyun’s jokes better than Taeyong’s.

His choice of place for a first meeting is way beyond expectation. You would have dressed up properly if you knew Jaehyun is bringing you to a secluded private restaurant. You seal your mouth tightly about this date, yet Taeyong knows.

You come home with a bright smiling face, Jaehyun had just dropped you off from his Mercedes-Benz G65. You secretly smile to yourself and wrap your jacket tighter as you enter the lift to reach the floor. You can’t stop humming small tunes while taking steps.

With a big surprised face, you take a step back when Taeyong greets you in his stern voice.

“Why are you here?” you sound annoyed. Your mood totally jumped from hype to down.

Taeyong raises his brow, “Am I not allowed to visit my lover? Beside I came here to check if she’s here yet, since she ignored my calls and texts.” You make your way to the kitchen and fill yourself a glass of water, “Well, sorry but I have someone to see tonight,” you shrug your shoulder.

Taeyong joins you to the small kitchen, “Yeah and I just found out my girl, without my acknowledge, went to meet another man and came home—” he glances at his watch, “—late, my girl came home pretty late. It’s 10!”

You finish your glass of water, and slam the cup a bit too hard, “So what? I’m big enough to come home whenever I want and I can take care of myself.”

“Who’s that man? How are you sure he is someone good?” Taeyong elevates his tone.

You take a deep breath and speak out loud clearly, “it’s none of your business! Even I did not know who the woman you’re with yesterday was and I did not ask you anything! I did not interrogate you Lee Taeyong!” you spit those words in one breath. You toss your jacket then lock yourself in the room. Taeyong knocks on your door relentlessly and all he gets is silence.

Silence from the loudest person is the scariest thing

You wake up with heavy head, puffy blood shot eyes, and a runny nose. You force yourselfto leave the bed and calls in for a day off today. You have called Jaehyun last night and told the new man everything, something in your heart screams that Jaehyun can help and Jaehyun will not hurt you like Taeyong did. With your beloved corgi walking beside you, You open the apartment door and freeze when you see Taeyong sleeping uncomfortably on the floor.

“Babo-ya,” You scoff in your mind and leave the big baby on the floor. You make yourself a glass of tea and gul an aspirin down your dry throat. You take your time writing a short note and stick it on Taeyong’s free arm. You bend to place a soft kiss on his temple, probably your last, and secretly leave.

Taeyong wakes up from the pain his back screams for sleeping on the floor, he yawns and stretches then looks around and realizes he had fallen asleep when begging you to open the door. He sees the post it on his arm and he quickly read it. His brow scrunches as the line gets down, and finally they widen and his mouth fell. Taeyong lost his sense of touch, hearing, and sight… he feels like a thunder just hit him and he’s drowned in his emotions. He slowly sits on the sofa and re-reads the nicely written letter. He makes sure to not miss any single word or get the wrong idea. But no matter how many times he checks the letter again, the words don’t change.

“(y/n) wants us to end it here,” Taeyong speaks to himself, the blonde quickly searches the house. Hoping to find the woman he was looking for, he needs to discuss this with you. Seriously you did not need to break up over a silly matter!

“(y/n)-ie, what do you mean? We can talk about this… where are you?” Taeyong puts on his shoes and coat.

“We don’t have to discuss anything Tae. We’re not meant to be, I realized we’re not made for each other. Our parents don’t even support this relationship we had for three and a half years. It’s over Taeyong, go get that woman and I will go my way.” You explain as best as you can.

“No, We need to meet. We’re not breaking up over phone. I don’t consider our relationship over just because you decided it by yourself. We need to meet.” Taeyong grips his phone harder.

“I can’t Tae, I’m no longer near you. Bye,” you said.

Taeyong hears the faint background sound and damn that you are in the airport, where the hell are you going now without telling him.

You turn off your call and sadly stare at the wallpaper. It’s a picture of happy Taeyong and you laughing under the mistletoe from last Christmas.

“Are we ready to go?” Jaehyun’s deep voice resonates beside you. You groggily nod and copy his steps to the boarding gate. You take one last heavy breath; yes you are leaving Korea and Taeyong behind. This is what your family wants, this is for the best.

You come from the family of the leading electronic cooperation in Korea; turns out your parents had made an agreement to make you and Jaehyun an official pair. Simply said your parents arranged your marriage with Jung family for the sake of business. Your family does not have a good history with the Lee family. Both Taeyong and you had been trying your best to keep your boat sailing despite the harsh wind made by your own families, but you have had enough. Both of you used to think if you are together, you can fight your families and live happily ever after, but that’s too good to be true.

Now, your parents have made a lot of agreements with The Jung family, and that explains why you are sent to leave Korea with Jaehyun the night when you reported Taeyong’s actions. Your father used the situation to break you apart, and he partly succeeded.

Right now, you are seated on the first-class flight to Britain, with your future fiancé (That’s what your parents insisted).

The loving couple separated without a clear ending, Taeyong still lives his life to the fullest he can, but everything is pointless when you are not in his life. He did not date anyone, he still holds on to the belief that you are still his girlfriend, and he is still committed to you, he woman he loves.

His colleague has tried a lot of things to set Taeyong up with a new date, but none of them seems to win his heart. Taeyong only attends the blind dates she made, just to respect her kindness and attention. That woman herself has won the heart of the cute guy in the milkshake shop Taeyong and you once visited, Doyoung. She was close with Taeyong because she needs help with winning the cute man’s heart. The night when you went home with Jaehyun, Taeyong was actually waiting for you to explain everything. Taeyong wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be jealous of the woman, for she has her heart and eyes for another man. Fate did not let him explain anything that night, and the next day you were already gone from his life.

Taeyong changes into a cold and quiet man, while you have opened your heart to the new man. You realize Jaehyun shares a lot of things in common with you. Knowing the new tall man with dimple is easy and both of you get along so well. You spend a good two years in England, and have to return to Korea when the working contract for Jaehyun ended.

–

The plane touched down on the land of Korea, where the leaves are starting to fall and the winds getting colder. You sigh it’s once again autumn, you always hate autumn.

Jaehyun feels he needs to check the office and sends you home by yourself. You did not mind, instead you are happy you can have your time alone here.

You take the taxi to a park you missed. A small park with benches for couples to seat and enjoy the falling leaves with the big Han River across them. You breathe in the autumn leaves and slightly smile when the memories you made here with Taeyong slowly floods his mind. A small tug is felt in your heart, how is that handsome blonde doing? You walk and walk then sit at one of the empty benches, your hand traces the old wood and smile when your eyes caught a small scribble that still managed to be intact even when seasons has changed.

You trace the craving and secretly hide a smile when the memory comes back in your mind.

The writing of Taeyong and (y/n) in a big heart, deriving from four years ago. You remembered craving your names cheesily on a park bench when the first leaf fell. You scoff when you realize a lot of things you did with Taeyong are associated with autumn.

You close your eyes for a while and found yourself awaken in surprise when a familiar voice greets you.

“(y/n)?” the voice sounds unsure, “(y/n)?! It’s really you?” this time it sounds surprised and a bit happy.

You open your eyes and gulp when the same man you left without news is here again in front of you. The man you shared love, the man you secretly hate and love, the same man who used to be your happiness. He looks different! He definitely loses weight, his hair is now plain and boring brown, his eyes no longer offers the star and galaxy you used to spend your time gazing. His voice didn’t change though, still the same deep voice that never fails to make you tremble.

“Taeyong, well… yes this is me.” you sheepishly admit.

“It’s been a while,” Taeyong opens his mouth. He takes the empty spot beside you.

“Look Taeyong, I don’t have much time,” you dare yourself to face him and hold your tears back. You almost broke down in tears when you once again sees the man you love standing here across you.

“I know it was hard for both of us, but that was the best for us. This is the best for us.” Taeyong stays quiet despite wanting to kiss you and tell you everything he kept to himself for a good two years, but no he wants to listen to you. He reflected for two years and he wanted to make up all his bad mistakes.

“Fate doesn’t let us be together… our family hates one another… we can’t… we just can’t be one Taeyong.” You bite your lips and hold your tears back. Your heart is breaking right now when you see the broken look in Taeyong’s eyes.

When you first saw Taeyong sitting beside you, you swore you saw a glint of hope in his eyes but now you completely kill it. You hate yourself for once again hurting Taeyong, but this is for their own goods.

You can no longer hold back your tears, the wall you made breaks down right in front of Taeyong. You hide your face in your hands and your shoulder moves as you express all of your bottled-up emotions. Something glints under the last rays of the sun and Taeyong moves closer to your side. He bravely takes you into a hug and he brings his thumb to wipe the crystals falling over your smooth cheeks. Taeyong cannot speak a word, his mouth goes mute all he knows is his life is completely dark now without you. It was dark already before when you left, but now when you clearly said that… Taeyong feels like dying.

“Goodbye Taeyong,” you stand up and walk to leave the broken hearted man. You turn one last time to see your unrequited love; and you force your last sweet smile, “Thank you for the memories.” you take quick steps to leave the park and Taeyong. A strong wind blows and makes the piles of orange dried leaves fly around and when it’s over. You are completely not anywhere to be seen.

Taeyong closes his eyes and memorizes the last words from his love, you left him completely now. (y/n) left his presence, his world, and his hopes. Taeyong fishes his jacket and pulls out a velvet box, he snaps it open and a simple diamond ring is shining there. Well, he’s been carrying this around since you left, he wanted to propose to you whenever he got the chance to see you , but turns out your ring finger is occupied already with the same diamond ring he had in mind will fit your slender finger. Taeyong keeps the ring again in the box and he pockets it again in his left chest. He lets his tears run through his face as he walks along with the last falling leaf.

He leaves the love of his life with tears and thousands of memories. Taeyong smiles bitterly when he remembers how you always hate autumn. Turns out all memories with you are prominent in autumn: your least favorite season.

flashback <<<

“I hate autumn Yong, can you imagine how selfless the tree is, letting the leaf die so it can live longer.” you pointed to an almost bald tree.

Taeyong pinches your cute cheeks, “Well yes the trees are selfish Sweetie, but did you see how sincere the leaves are? I’m sure the tree did not want the leaves to die, instead I think the leaf sacrifice itself so the tree can live,” you cut him, “But why Yong? Why must the leaves die for the tree?”

Taeyong holds his lover’s hand tighter in his jacket, “Because my (y/n)-ie, that way the tree can survive the harsh cold winter and make new leaf later on spring. That way the leaf and the tree are once again together!”

You nod your head, “Woah that’s a better theory! You should definitely be the one telling our kids bed time stories later on!” You cheerfully peck a kiss on Taeyong’s lips and blushes.

“Just like love, you must sacrifice for the one you love.” Taeyong leans in for another kiss.

“I love you Yong, now and forever!” You lean your head on Taeyong’s strong and wide shoulder.

“I love you most (y/n), I’ll be like the leaf in autumn!” Taeyong whispers to his world; you

The two people in different place share the same memory tonight.

As the moon shines and the first snow falls, they secretly whisper each other “I still love you.”

end

:”) thank you for reading

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burntoutmatchstick · 4 years ago

Text

Are you excited to see me, or is it hypothermia?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31498151

Slightly AU-ish - Robbe and Sander have to keep their relationship a secret because Sander has just broken up with Britt. Everyone is in college. It's cold, but Sobbe is hot. Mostly just fluff and a little bit of smut.

“Robbe Ijzermans, you are the greatest person to ever walk the planet!”

“Zoë Loockx, you are drunk.”

Zoë laughed, her breath warm against the side of his face. She pressed her lips against his cheek and then pulled back, grinning. Her mouth was stained red, from her lipstick or that neon cocktail she clutched in her hand Robbe couldn’t be sure. Probably a combination of the two. The bar’s pulsating lights were reflecting off Zoë’s pale hair as she tugged on his arm.

“C’monnnn” she whined, face close to his ear again to try and make herself heard over the thumping music. “You’re here now, just stay for one drink!” She gestured to the other side of the bar, where a group of girls were waving enthusiastically at him.

He could see Amber and Luca beckoning him over. Yasmina was there too, and she caught his gaze across the dancefloor, rolling her eyes slightly with a wry smile as Luca began a series of... animated... dance moves beside her.

Robbe groaned. He absolutely did not need another late night; he was working an early shift tomorrow and he had two assignments due the next day. He’d only stopped by the bar in the first place to drop Zoë her forgotten keys, specifically so he could avoid waking up at an ungodly hour to let her into the apartment. But now that he was here, and if he only had one drink...after all, he hadn’t hung out with the girls in ages. He was just about to give in to Zoë’s insistent pull, when Amber stepped back, allowing Robbe a view of the rest of the group. Britt was with them.

He felt something sink to the pit of his stomach, and he planted his feet more firmly against Zoë’s pull.

“Zo, Zoë, no listen - I can’t. Really, you know I’ve got work in the morning.” He laughed at her pouty sad face, gently extracting himself from her grasp.

"Fine," she huffed, wobbling backwards slightly.

He laughed. "Are you going to be okay to get back across the dancefloor, or do you want me to give you a little push?"

"Asshole," she replied, flipping him off with a big grin.

"Enjoy the rest of your night," he said, suddenly very eager to be out of the suffocating bar.

Love you! She mouthed against the loud music, moving back into the throng of people.

Robbe stood on his tiptoes, waving goodbye to the girls. He tried not to look at her, but he couldn't help it, Britt was waving at him too. He shot her a quick smile, hoping it didn't look forced, and then ducked back through the crowd. He didn't know if it was his guilty conscience talking, but he thought Britt seemed sad.

It wasn't really his fault if she was, he tried to tell himself as he pushed his way towards to door, trying to avoid sweaty armpits and overflowing drinks. She hadn't been happy in her relationship for a long time before Robbe showed up, and it had ended before anything became too serious, Robbe had made that a clear condition. But still, there was definitely some hazy timing around who had done what, and when, and Robbe had definitely known enough to know better. Hell, his guilty conscience was the whole reason he was still keeping the best thing that had ever happened to him a secret; he didn't think it was fair on Britt to shove their happiness in her face so soon after the messy breakup. And also, there was a part of him that was scared, and ashamed of that fear, because once Britt knew they were together, Robbe knew it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together herself and had some realisations about that hazy timeline of who was doing what with who, and when.

He knew they'd have to own up to it eventually, because it was getting harder and harder to keep it a secret, especially when all he wanted to do was shout from the rooftops that he was desperately, passionately, fiercely falling for Sander Driesen.

And then, almost as if Robbe had summoned him, Sander was there. Robbe actually stopped short in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. Had he really become that obsessed with Sander that he was hallucinating? It was a possibility, but no, this time, it really was Sander leaning against a door frame, leather jacket clad, drink held lazily in one hand, devil-may-care aura radiating around him.

Robbe simply stood and stared for a moment, taking him in, admiring the way his Bowie t-shirt clung tightly to his lean frame beneath the leather jacket, the way the lights danced against his white hair, reflecting the changing colour with every beat of the music. Sander's expression was amused as he bent his head to listen to whatever his friend was saying, Robbe watched as he rolled his eyes and laughed, almost spilling the drink he was waving around. Robbe could tell from the way Sander held himself, relaxed and slouchy, that he was drunk.

Robbe had known Sander was going out with college friends tonight, and Sander knew that Robbe was working in the morning, so they'd agreed to catch up the next day. Sander hadn't seen him, and Robbe knew he could slip away unnoticed. It was the smart thing to do, especially with Britt and their other friends in the same room.

He didn't move.

He'd spent so long watching Sander in this very way, from across rooms filled with other people, with Britt, untouchable, that now that he could touch him (and God, he couldn't get enough), it was almost impossible to walk away. And then, like a magnetic force, Sander looked up, through the pulsing room full of people and music and bouncing lights, and directly into Robbe's eyes.

Robbe laughed to himself as Sander struggled to work through his surprise. Sander's brow crinkled in confusion as he registered Robbe's presence, his blond head tilting to one side, before his face exploded into a dazzling smile that shot straight to Robbe's knees, filling his stomach with butterflies. Robbe was a smitten schoolgirl, and he couldn't fucking care less.

He watched Sander lurch unsteadily from the door frame, and away from his friend, who called after him in confusion. Sander didn't seem to hear him though, or just didn't care, as he made his way determinedly, if a little wobbly, towards Robbe.

Robbe followed suit, not caring as he shoved his way past people until Sander was in front of him.

The boys stopped, taking each other in with stupid smiles plastered to both their faces, before Sander said, "you're here!" and crashed into Robbe's waiting arms. Robbe staggered back against the force of Sander's embrace, wrapping his arms tight around Sander to steady them both. Sander had his head bent into Robbe's shoulder, but Robbe could practically hear the crooked grin in his voice as Sander said "wait, am I that drunk, or are you actually here?"

Robbe laughed quietly into Sander's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and the beer on his breath. "I think you might be that drunk, but I am here too. Except not for long, I have to go."

"No!" Sander whined, twisting his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie, pulling them closer together.

Even with Sander this close, their entwined bodies forming a little bubble among the crush of people around them, Robbe was acutely aware of Britt and the girls' mere metres behind them. This was not the way anyone was meant to find out, but especially Britt.

"Sander, we can't do this here." Robbe felt his heart twang slightly as Sander pulled back and looked at him, a flicker of hurt behind his eyes.

"Wha..."

"No - I don't mean, it's just that the girls and..."

"What, I can't hear you!" Sander shouted, as a new song began, and the beat kicked in again.

Robbe laughed at the confused expression on Sander's face and jerked his head towards the door. Sander nodded, so Robbe laced their fingers together, and began the task of navigating them through the swarms of people in varying states of soberness. It felt like moving through toffee - sticky, alcoholic toffee - but finally with one last tug, Robbe pulled both he and Sander free of the clutches of the bar and out on to the street.

The cold struck him instantly, a stark contrast to inside, and he pulled Sander closer to his side as he moved them both away from the people queuing at the door to get in.

Sander shivered slightly as they came to a stop, and Robbe looped his arms around the taller boy's neck, drawing them into each other's body heat.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear myself think in there," Robbe said, finally getting a good look at Sander away from the unnatural fluorescent lights.

The first thing Robbe noticed was that Sander was even drunker than he thought. The second was how goddam gorgeous he looked anyway, his eyes slightly hooded and unfocused, his lips glistening under the streetlights as he leaned against Robbe to keep himself upright. Robbe had seen Sander in a similar state before, after they'd....

Robbe swallowed hard.

"What are you even doing here, I thought you were meant to be sleeping?" Sander said, his voice thick and deep. He twisted his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie again, his iron grip pulling them closer.

"Zoë forgot her keys, I was just dropping them off."

"Mmm, I'm glad Zoë is forgetful," Sander said. He dropped his head, and suddenly his mouth was at Robbe's neck.

"Sander, Sander wait..." Robbe gently pulled his head back, despite every nerve in his body telling him not to.

Sander froze, and looked down at Robbe, his face going blank.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

"Baby, no - " Robbe laughed softly, unwrapping Sander's hands from his shirt, and pulling them up to gently kiss his knuckles. "It's just that - did you know the girls are here too? With Britt?"

Robbe tried not to laugh at the confused expression on Sander's face, heightened by his drunkenness as he tried to decipher the new information.

"The girls..." Sander said slowly. "...and Britt?"

"Yes," Robbe said, annunciating carefully. "Britt. Here. Britt is here."

"Fuck," said Sander with a sigh, though he made no attempt to move.

"My thoughts exactly," Robbe agreed.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Robbe gave Sander's compromised thoughts a chance to catch up with their current situation.

"Wellllll...." Sander said, his slow drawl drawing out the word. "She's going to find out eventually..." and with that, he tugged Robbe closer, dropping his mouth down to that fucking spot again, that spot that even drunk Sander knew could get Robbe to do just about anything.

"Sander," Robbe said, except that it came out as less of a protest and more of a moan, and Sander responded as such, his own moan vibrating against Robbe's neck as he continued to pull Robbe even more firmly into his space.

Robbe wondered whether intoxication was catching, as Sander's hands made their way down and under his hoodie, cold fingers against his waist causing him to gasp. Sander lifted his head then, swallowing Robbe's gasp into his mouth as he crashed their lips together. Robbe could taste the beer on Sander's breath as his mind began to go blank, any thought of Britt, or the cold, or the time vanishing from his mind as Sander's tongue pushed clumsy but insistent against his own.

Suddenly, a group of girls emerged from the bar, their laughter erupting into the cold night air. Robbe jerked away from Sander as if he'd been electrocuted, putting a good three feet between them in a millisecond. His eyes scanned the exiting group quickly, and he let out a tiny sigh of relief when he realised he didn't recognise any of them. It was enough to break the spell, and Sander and Robbe looked at each other, guilt written on both their faces.

"Shit," Sander breathed out, his breath clouding against the cold air. He ran his fingers through his recently tousled hair and looked down at Robbe. "On second thoughts, I really don't want her to find out this way."

"Me either," Robbe agreed quickly.

They looked at each other, the thud of music from the bar bleeding out into the quiet between them.

"I'm going to tell her soon, Robbe," Sander said, his voice suddenly quiet. "I can't keep this a secret much longer... I don't want to keep you a secret much longer..."

"I know," Robbe said, giving him a small smile.

"The world deserves to know that I have a really hot boyfriend named ROBBE IZJERMANS!"

Sander shouted Robbe's name, and Robbe tried to hush him, laughing, as the butterflies erupted in his stomach again. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing those words fall so easily from Sander's mouth.

They started at each other a moment longer, but neither dared to breach the physical gap again.

"You should get back to your friends, and I should get to bed," Robbe said finally.

"You're right," Sander said, but he looked so miserable about it that Robbe couldn't help but laugh.

"You looked like you were having a good time before I showed up!"

"I was, but that's only because I didn't know what I was missing!"

"We can grab lunch on my break tomorrow?" Robbe suggested hopefully, but Sander shook his head.

"I have a better idea. Why don't I walk you home?"

"Aaah, maybe because your friends might wonder where you've gone, and also, you live closer to here than I do?"

"Both of these points are irrelevant in light of the fact that you currently have an empty apartment..." Sander said, raising an eyebrow, his gaze suddenly intense.

"You know, for a drunk man you make a lot of sense."

***

"Hurry up Robbe, it's fucking freezing," Sander complained as they stood on the landing while Robbe fumbled for his keys.

In retrospect, they probably should have taken an uber. It really wasn't a long walk from the bar to his apartment but adding a drunk Sander who couldn't easily move in a straight line and freezing temperatures to the mix, and, well...they probably should have taken an uber.

Finally, Robbe flung open the door and ushered them in, flicking on lights and kicking off his shoes as he went. He fumbled with the thermostat on the wall for a moment, cranking up the temperature. It took him a second to realise that Sander hadn't moved down the hallway with him, and instead was still standing by the doorway, struggling to stay upright as he did battle with his shoes.

Robbe laughed quietly. "Need a hand?"

He didn't wait for Sander's answer, dropping down to his knees to help yank off the offending items.

"I like the view," Sander said, his voice suddenly low and deep. Robbe looked up at Sander, registering his compromised position as something struck a chord low in his stomach.

"I'm surprised you can see straight at the moment," he said, finally releasing Sander from his Doc Martens prison.

"Believe me, there's nothing straight about what I'm seeing."

Somewhat unwillingly, Robbe got up from the floor, but before he could step back, Sander pulled him in close, pressing their lips together. It was at that moment Robbe registered the slight tremor to Sander's frame, and how icy his skin was.

"Sander, you're freezing!" Robbe said accusingly.

"I know! That's why I'm trying to warm up!" Sander replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You were definitely too drunk to walk home in this weather," Robbe said, pulling Sander down the hall. "Come..."

"I'm trying to," Sander said, with a mischievous wink which Robbe steadfastly ignored.

Robbe pulled the taller boy into his bedroom, closing the door behind them, trying his best to ignore Sander's grabby hands.

"Robbe," Sander whined, his voice cracking slightly as Robbe began pulling the blankets back from his bed.

"Jacket off," Robbe commanded.

"That's more like it," Sander said, ungracefully shucking out of his leather jacket and tossing it to one side. He reached for Robbe again once it was off, but Robbe was prepared this time, and quickly wrapped Sander in a blanket. Sander laughed, wriggled, and fell, pulling them both down onto Robbe's bed.

"Hi," Robbe said with a smile, his nose pressed against Sander's cold one.

"Hi," Sander answered with a content sigh, his heavy eyes closing slightly.

"Are you closing your eyes because you're tired? Or because you're drunk? Or because you have hypothermia?" Robbe asked, suddenly slightly concerned.

Sander laughed and pulled one arm out from his blanket cocoon, wrapping it around Robbe's shoulders."I'm closing my eyes because you're so beautiful up close, it hurts to look at you."

Robbe groaned and rolled onto his back, so he was looking at the ceiling, Sander's arm now draped across his chest. "Drunk Sander unlocks corny Sander, noted."

"You love it," Sander said with a laugh, and honestly, Robbe internally agreed.

They lay in silence for a while, their breathing slowing until it was in synch. Robbe was still surprised at how the simple act of just being with someone you cared so much about, without talking or doing anything, could bring so much happiness. It was still all so new, but he really didn't think he would get tired of this, of just existing in Sander's orbit. After so much time spent resisting its pull, he was so grateful now to just bask in the force of it.

They were quiet for so long that Robbe began to think that Sander had fallen asleep. He hated the thought that he'd have to wake him up again soon, so that he could leave before Zoë got home. Not that she'd care. She'd be happy for them, in fact Robbe was pretty sure she'd already guessed, but it wasn't fair to expect someone else to keep their secret as well.

They needed to tell people, and soon. But not right this second. Right this second Robbe could just soak in the warm glow of the lean, blonde boy taking up so much space in his bed, and even more in his heart.

"What are you thinking about?" Sander asked, startling Robbe slightly.

Robbe shifted onto his side so they were facing each other. "You," he said with a smile. "Always you."

Sander smiled back at him and craned his neck forwards to press his lips against Robbe's. They were much warmer now, Robbe noted with a happy hum.

They stayed that way for a while, gently kissing, Robbe peppering small pecks all over Sander's face to warm up the cold spots. Robbe propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Sander's chest to press kisses to his ear, his neck. Sander laughed, and Robbe felt the vibrations in his throat.

Suddenly, without warning, Sander snaked his arms up beneath Robbe's and with a skilful manoeuvre, flipped them so that Robbe was lying flat on the bed, caged beneath Sander who hovered above him.

"How's the view from up there?" He asked Sander.

"Definitely not straight," Sander said, and his mouth was on Robbe's again, except this time there was nothing gentle about it.

Sander still tasted like beer, but Robbe didn't mind, as their mouths crashed together in a jumble of lips and teeth and enthusiasm. Robbe slipped his tongue out and traced Sander's wet lips, licking away the last of the cold evening. Sander sighed deeply, his eyes closing, head rolling back to allow Robbe access to his neck. Robbe obliged, his mouth insistent against the points that he was learning drove Sander wild. Not close enough for his liking, Robbe pulled Sander down. The force of it caught Sander by surprise and he crashed against Robbe's chest, their ribs flush against each other, hips meeting in a motion that caused both boys to gasp slightly.

"You certainly seem to be warming up," Robbe said breathily, as Sander ran his hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt and pulling. There was a jumble of limbs and fabric as they both wrestled with their clothing until finally, shirts and jeans were discarded on the floor, and they were pressed together again in nothing but their boxers. Robbe's mind was blissfully empty, filled with nothing but Sander, his taste, his smell, the feeling of him growing harder beneath his hand as he palmed at the front of his boxers. Sander's fingers plucked at the waistline of Robbe's own underwear, but Robbe put a gentle hand against his wrist and pulled it away, flipping them over again so Sander was on his back.

"You're the one that needs warming up," Robbe said, by way of explanation, one of his hands dropping to Sander's upper thigh, lightly tracing the hairs that painted a line up to Robbe's goal destination.

On cue, Sander shivered, but from the way his head fell back and his eyes rolled, Robbe thought it was probably from something other than the cold. He'd been so excited, so nervous, the first few times they'd done this, so worried about making sure Sander felt good. It was amazing how fast those nerves had been replaced with complete confidence; the noises coming from deep in Sander's chest as he squirmed beneath Robbe's mouth providing all the proof Robbe needed that he was on the right track. Robbe gripped Sander's thighs as Sander wound his own hands tightly in Robbe's hair, panting and gasping Robbe's name as Robbe's pulled him deeper and deeper into his mouth, until Sander was bursting, hot and fast over Robbe, leaving no doubt in Robbe's mind that he wasn't at risk of hypothermia anymore. Robbe didn't move until he was sure Sander was done.

"Robbe,' Sander moaned, pulling him back up to kiss him, deep and slow.

Robbe leaned down into him, and Sander, no longer cold, traced down Robbe's side until he found his mark. Sander took Robbe into his hand, not breaking their kiss even as Robbe began to pant jaggedly into his mouth. It didn't take long; seeing Sander come undone always pushed Robbe right to the edge. With a groan, Robbe came, gripping Sanders shoulders tightly as Sander moaned his name.

They lay panting next to each other until their breathing slowed, taking their time to come back up for air. Once Robbe had regained the semblance of a thought, he rolled away from Sander, feeling around for something on the floor. Sander whined at the sudden absence of warmth, his hands scrabbling weakly against the mattress, grasping for Robbe's return. He did, after a moment, pulling the hastily discarded blanket up with him and throwing it carefully around Sander, making sure he was fully covered before he dropped back down next to him, kissing him softly.

"No chance of hypothermia," Robbe said, his voice slightly raspy.

Sander sighed contentedly into Robbe's shoulder. "Nope. But there's now a very real risk of heat stroke -" he paused for a moment for dramatic effect, " - get it? Because you're so damn hot."

Robbe's groan turned into a laugh. "Oh my god, you're the worst."

"You love it, though," Sander said, eyes closing gently.

"Yeah," said Robbe after a moment, voice soft, his own eyes beginning to droop. "Yeah, I do."

#sobbe #sobbe fic #mine: writing #wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen

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violints · 5 years ago

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@rekant, & call . ( # 14 )

‘ NO ONE IS GOOD OR BAD. but if you want, i am the bad one. ’

#rekant #*　　𝄞 .　　this is the way a girl becomes a bomb　　⁄　　‟　in .　„#*　　𝄞 .　　know i am waiting to become whole again　　⁄　　‟　queued .　„#*　　𝄞 .　　your beast - creature ideas want out & turn you in your bed　　⁄　　‟　au : vigilante .　„#quote is from possession (1981) !

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aspiring-wildfire · 4 years ago

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MAG 178

Ooh back in Meatville™️

I am once again asking Basira to be nice to Jon

Martin reminding them to treat all the victims as people!!! Good for u bb I love u

“Why are they queuing?” “It’s a factory of the flesh. Use your imagination.” “...no. No, I don’t think I will” yeah good call babe

“I hate all of these loose ends... we’ll just have to tie them all up in one go, hmm? Around Elias’s neck.” MARTIN KARTIN BLACKWOOD TGE FLIP FROM ABSOLUTE COMPASSION TO MURDEROUS ANTI ELIAS THOUGHTS FUCKING STELLAR ILY BABY

“Tool cupboard. Safe enough place to wait.” “Fine.” *door opens* “Nope.” Martin you’re a fucking gem

“Could be worse, at least they’re clean” Jon you’re my favorite person in the whole wide world you fucking dork

Snarky Jon is my favorite Jon

Oh the concept of your “processing” being inevitable but the fear of it being pointless, of not being useful is rly interesting

The contract thing is very sign your life away I love it when Jonny says “fuck capitalism”

Yknow I wasn’t sure why bureaucracy was part of the flesh but it actually makes a lot of sense- the flesh is all about the fear that you’re just meat, and the uncaring bureaucracy goes a long way towards that depersonalization

Ohhh and that gives the whole “your pain is inevitable but it could be worse- it could be useless, pointless” thing a new level bc that’s what capitalism’s all about- accept your suffering, even be proud of it, bc you’re useful like this

God fuck capitalism man

Oof and the branding Jonny’s rly coming for capitalism’s dehumanizing “eat you up and spit you out” process w no qualifications or anything huh

“At last, the prospect of seeing what might happen if he runs from the line seems worth it to Tyler, but the realization sets in that it is far, far too late for that” god the whole idea of people’s fear of stepping out of line bc what if that’s even worse finally being overcome by the understanding that it couldn’t be worse than this but it’s too late to leave and you’ve missed your chance... shit man

“He could refuse. A final, petty act of rebellion against a system it feels like he has run through a hundred times. But what would be the point of that? It won’t save him. A wasted pile of discarded tissue is all that would be left. Is it not better, at least, to be useful?” God the absolute raw lines in this one fuck man I really get how you can expand very real societal systems into overwhelming cosmic horror through this it’s amazing and also oh my god

Amazing job Jonny

Also alex on the soundscaping! I’m having a Bad Time

Martin defending Jon to Basira!!! I’m soft

Martin continuing to treat the victims as people I love my boy

“Recognize her.” “...no. I don’t think I do” “that wasn’t a question” Jon forcing Basira to confront daisy’s police brutality!! Good job hun!! Acab!!!

“Someone has died! Show some respect! Or don’t you care?” get her Martin

“Daisy’s the only person I could ever rely on, and she... she did things, terrible things, and I... I refused to see it, or, said it was my duty, or whatever. I don’t know.”

THE BREAKDOWN OF THE SEIGE MENTALITY FUCK YEAH DUDE

“I wanted to help people, you know? When I first joined. Protect people. But then I saw what some of those same people were capable of, and... something changed. I wanted to hurt them, the ones that deserved it, and it... it felt good. It felt righteous. I thought I could feel the line though. I really did. Eventually, though, it was too much... I was going to quit. I couldn't take what I saw myself becoming. But... then I got sectioned, and suddenly... suddenly it turned out there were real monsters out there, and, well, that just made the power feel better. So things kept slipping. But Daisy was always there for me.” “All those innocent people...” “Were they? Innocent?” “Some. And if not? What crime warrants what was done to them?” 👏👏👏👏

“She was trying to be better” “she was. But she never asked me to forgive her.” “Forgive her?” “I’ve been scared, terrified for my life so many times these last few years. But I’ve never, not once, felt so horribly, abjectly, powerless as when she took me into that forest to kill me. I’ll never forget it.” Jon having the police brutality he faced as the most traumatic event of his life when he’s been so thoroughly traumatized in so many ways really drives that point home god

“Would you have forgiven her?” “No. But she never asked me. She knew she had no right.”

I’m very torn bc while I do totally get why a lot of people hate daisy and it’s absolutely fair I’m still sad that practically the only person who was really there for Jon in season four isn’t gonna be able to come back. I just want my boy to have a support network man

“No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most. Even me.” I AM CONCERNED

#im really worried about jon man #jonathan sims defense squad #2k always #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #basira hussein #alice daisy tonner #mag 178

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nanoland · 3 years ago

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posting this again in a shameless bid for attention (the usual 2-3 people who already give me plenty of attention pls ignore and also i love u <3)

(Also on AO3.)

Clean Hands, part 4

Crowley/Dean Winchester/Castiel

Warning: Demon deals, violence, mention of abuse and torture. Also: Crowley is an abuse + addiction survivor and also a cold-hearted arsehole with very little respect or empathy for abuse + addiction survivors, and this story is written from his POV.

What was there to be done when you were enamoured of a man who hit you?

Leave him! the whole world cried back in one voice.

Which was a bit like telling someone trapped in a burning car to get out of the car. Yes. Quite. Thank you. Fully agree. But what if, for a moment, you assumed I wasn’t as stupid as a fucking dog?

That, incidentally, was one of a handful of ways the world had worsened since Crowley last drew breath.

Back in the fourteenth century, the women in the marketplace had noted his black eye and torn dress with immediate understanding. Instead of insisting he pack his bags and walk out of the house belonging to his wealthy shoemaker husband, the father of his child, the man on whom his safety and good reputation and continued ability to eat depended, the man he, for some fucking reason, still loved, they’d actually tried to help.

Sybil had given him willow bark for the pain. Rose had engaged him in long, rambling conversations, stretching the minutes until he had to return home. Jane had walked across the village and rapped on his door every evening she could, always armed with solid excuses, just when the bastard was well and truly in his cups and looking for something to damage.

If ever analytical minds were to try to account for Crowley’s misanthropy and sadism, they couldn’t honestly conclude that either was due to his never experiencing true, heartfelt human kindness.

Yes, Sybil and Rose and Jane had all thought he was a woman and addressed him accordingly, and it had hurt. But that wasn’t their fault. He’d not had the courage to tell them otherwise.

Crowley didn’t regret much. Regret, in this game, was a slow-killing poison.

Still, he did occasionally wonder how things might have turned out if he’d accepted Jane’s invitation and fled with her to London that one warm night, rather than hanging in for years until he finally snapped and beat his husband’s skull into tooth-sized pieces with an iron kettle.

Returning to the present:

As Crowley watched Dean’s fist barrel towards his face, and not for the first time, he reviewed the pros and cons of incinerating him with hellfire.

When fist and nose were one millionth of an inch apart, he teleported across the room.

“Squirrel,” he sighed, “this has nothing to do with you.”

Dean charged and took another swing at him. “Fuck you! He worked so hard! Clean for four years, you piece of shit!”

This time, Crowley reappeared sitting on top of the dead man’s wardrobe, where Dean couldn’t reach him. “Good for him. His family and friends won’t remember him as the thieving, lying wretch he was ten years ago when he sold his soul for a pound of meth. They’ll probably give him a nice funeral.”

“Why couldn’t you make an exception? Just once?”

“That’s not how this works, Dean! It wasn’t even my deal! The contract is in the hands of a relatively inexperienced subordinate and honestly, I’m glad that she pulled it off. She’s got potential. This is her first real win. It’ll increase her standing in Hell and make her more powerful, which will be useful because some older demons have taken to bullying h-…”

“I don’t give a damn about your minions,” he snarled, picking up a lamp sprinkled with blood and throwing it at him. Crowley ducked. “Every last one of you can take an angel blade to the face, for all I care. You’re fucking parasites.”

Evenly, Crowley replied, “Yes. We are. You know that. You’ve always known that. Why are you having a fit about it now? Good people get dragged to Hell all the time.”

Dean stared down at what remained of Martin Booke, now that the hellhounds had left. “He worked so hard. Christ. You could have made an exception. He came to us and I swore I’d help him out.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have cocking well done that, should you?” Crowley cried, throwing up his hands.

Eyes wet, Dean sneered at him. “Parasite. Get out of my sight before I wring your evil neck.”

Crowley left.

Upon arriving back in Hell, he went to the Admissions Department.

The soul of Martin Booke was sitting in one of the cheap blue plastic chairs, knees drawn up to his chest. Probably still reeling from the trauma of the hounds ripping his throat out, though no damage was evident on his form now.

“Mr Booke,” Crowley said, sauntering up with his hands in his pockets. “Could you come with me, please?”

A door appeared in the nearest wall and swung open silently.

Once they were both standing inside Crowley’s office, it swung shut and dissolved into nothingness.

Moving to his liquor cabinet, Crowley said, “I hear you’re a Harvard man.”

“Um… y-yeah. Yes. I was.” Thin voice. Midwestern accent.

“Promising career ahead of you before things – ah – went awry.”

Booke swallowed. “Tom. First boyfriend. Got me into meth. Got me into a lot of stuff. I figured it was okay because we were gonna be together forever and as long as I had him, I’d be fine. Then he went and died and I had to pick up the pieces on my own.”

Smiling thinly, Crowley said, “Isn’t romance grand? As it happens, you may still get your happily ever after. Thomas Abbott is currently waiting in the eternal queue – which, ordinarily, is where you’d be headed.”

“Yeah. Dean told me. Although… um…”

“You have a question? Spit it out. Cowards bore me.”

“Dean said that when you sell your soul, you go to Hell and demons torture you until you become a demon. But he also told me about the queue thing. So that’s confusing. I mean, queuing sucks but it’s not torture.”

Crowley poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat down behind his desk. “Clever boy. Yes; when I became King of Hell, I restructured things. Most of you end up in the queue. The hot knives and whips are a speciality service and, as such, are reserved for our elite clientele. The pedos and Nazis and so forth – and, of course, anyone who pisses me off too much. As for the process of becoming a demon; that doesn’t actually require torture. I know! Surprised me too! We always thought it did, back when Lilith was in charge. Then I started running some tests and it turns out that becoming a demon is a bit like catching a virus; it’ll happen to anyone who hangs around other demons long enough. Everyone in the queue will have black eyes by the end of their first century.”

Booke took off his glasses and nervously rubbed them on his sleeve. “You said that ‘ordinarily’ I’d go to the queue. So am I an – uh – ‘elite client’?”

“Hah! No. Your little life was staggeringly boring and barely impacted anyone in ways either negative or positive. No, the reason you’re here is Harvard. See, I had a snoop and it seems that before you dropped out, you were getting bloody good grades.”

A wistful smile. “I guess. Had big dreams, once.”

Sipping his bourbon, Crowley said, “On track for a Master’s in aeronautical engineering, I believe.”

“Yep. I wanted to work for NASA.”

“Cards on the table, Booke: I might have a job for you. There is, at present, space in one or two of our departments for a man with your talents. But first I need to ask a question.”

He cocked his head. “Um. Sure? Anything’s better than what I was expecting. Shoot.”

“Do you know how to crash a spaceship?”

#supernatural #my fic #dean winchester #crowley #castiel #drowley #fanfic

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rune-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Unbreakable Bond

Fandom: Persona 5

Ann Takamaki Week 2020 » Day 5: Birthday

Word Count: 4704

Rating: G

Summary: Six months after Shiho's accident, Ann still could not forget the sight of her friend’s crippled form on the ground. All she wanted was for Shiho to be healthy again so they could have fun like they used to. On Ann's 17th birthday, Ren prepared a surprise for her.

Note: A belated happy birthday to Ann!!

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ann was reading a fashion magazine on her bed when her phone vibrated, beeping once. She reached for it, patting her bed and the sides of her pillow. Where was it? Her phone was nowhere to be found, so she looked up, and saw light shining from the top of the stackable cube shelves next to her bed. She grabbed her phone and checked the notification. One message. From Ren. The smile came unbidden as Ann unlocked her phone and clicked the message.

‘Happy birthday!’ it said, followed by party-face emojis and birthday stickers. The time stamp beside it read 12:02 AM. Her grin only grew as she struggled to keep her composure, rolling over to her back and holding her phone over her head.

‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ she asked.

‘Why aren’t you?’

Ann snorted a quiet laughter. Would it kill Ren to be honest sometimes and say he wanted to be the first to wish her a happy birthday? Not that she would admit she’d been waiting for his message either.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked then.

Ann grinned. ‘Texting you.’

‘On your bed?’

‘Yep.’

There was a momentary pause before he said, ‘Do you have plans after school? Wanna go somewhere?’

There it was—the question she’d been waiting for. Ann had kept her afternoon open for this very reason. Her grin threatened to swallow her face whole as she typed, ‘Are you asking me on a date, Ren?’

Another pause. ‘Maybe.’

Cheeky. Ann laughed under her breath. ‘Alright.’

***

Ren’s invitation was the only thing occupying her mind the entire morning. She wondered where they would go. Sharing a parfait at a cute cafe would be nice. Or maybe they’d go to the movies? They could eat a fluffy cake at a pastry shop. What if, at the end of their date, Ren surprised her with a present? Not something huge, but something unexpected. And then he’d walk her home, his hand holding hers, and once they reached her porch, his eyes would bore into hers in that way that made her stomach twist and knot before he’d lean into the gentlest kiss he had ever given her. The thought already made her heart race and cheeks burn.

Her phone vibrated again inside her bag while she queued in front of the subway escalator. She had put it on silent after the incessant beeping on the train ride to school. Her friends had flooded their group chat with birthday wishes and promises to hang out. A birthday party at Leblanc after school, Ryuji had said. But Ann already had plans, and when she’d said so, Ryuji and Futaba had bombarded her with questions: what plans? With whom?

Ren was conveniently not on. Ann wondered if he was doing it on purpose. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think he was waiting for her somewhere at the station, smirking to himself as he watched their group chat notifications come in.

When her phone vibrated again, Ann exhaled a quiet sigh and fished her phone from inside her bag. If Ryuji still spouted nonsense about how no one in their right mind would date a girl like Ann, she would give him a piece of her mind once she cornered him at school. However, it wasn’t Ryuji’s name that greeted her eyes. Ann’s eyes widened when she beheld the name displayed across her phone.

‘Happy birthday, Ann!’ Shiho said in her message. ‘Wish you all the best. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to, but I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you. I’m still doing well on my rehab. The doctor said I’ve improved a lot. Not enough to do any sports yet, but I hope we’ll get to see each other soon.’

Her fingers twitched, and she clutched her phone tight. Shiho always wished her a happy birthday before school. Then Ann would find a cute little present hiding in her shoe locker or desk drawer. Shiho would throw her arms around her from behind with a beam spreading from ear to ear as she asked her where Ann wanted to go or what she wanted to eat. A part of her expected that to happen now, grinning with glee as she read the message, before she remembered that Shiho was no longer at her school.

‘Thanks, Shiho,’ she typed her reply, then her fingers wavered over the keys, her lips quirking up in quiet delight. If Shiho’s health had improved, the time they’d be able to hang out might be closer than she thought. She’d set to type something, anything—that’s amazing news, Shiho—when the image of Shiho’s crippled body on the ground flashed across her mind.

It’s your fault.

She froze in her tracks, her hands on her phone becoming still.

“Hey.” The sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump. A figure stood beside her—a figure in her school uniform. Sunlight reflected off a pair of glasses as Ren peered into her eyes. But then his smile faltered at her lack of response. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“You kind of spaced out.”

Ann blinked—once, twice. “Sorry, I was—” The rush of traffic on the other side of the sidewalk startled her. She looked back behind her shoulder and found the subway exit standing some thirty feet away. She glanced at her phone, then quickly typed her reply. She’d already sent it and stashed the phone back inside her bag before Ren could take a peek at it.

“Were you waiting for me?” Ann asked instead, adjusting her bag straps around her shoulder.

Ren’s gaze was searching, but when Ann said nothing, he didn’t press the subject. He nodded down the pavement toward their school. “Let’s go,” he said, his lips breaking into a small smile.

***

“It’s from Shiho,” Ann said later that day. On lunch break, she sat on her desk, leaning against the window while she ate the melonpan she’d bought at the cafeteria. The sweetness exploded in her mouth. Ren’s dark gray eyes flitted upward, meeting hers for only a moment. “The text message I received this morning. She wished me a happy birthday.”

“That’s nice.” Ren responded with a nod, taking a bit bite of his tuna-flavored rice ball.

Ann waited for more, but no other answer came. “That’s it?” she asked.

“What else?”

She didn’t know. Some kind of surprised reaction, maybe? Or asked how Shiho was doing?

“She’s your best friend,” Ren went on. “You try not to show it, but I know how much you miss her.”

Ann pursed her lips into a thin line. She averted her gaze to her bread now held on her lap.

“How is she, though?” he added.

“Good, it seems, at least from her texts.” Amazing, in fact. Now she just needed to wait until the doctors let Shiho travel. Or, wait, she had a better idea. Ann turned around in her seat and fully faced Ren. “Do you think we should go see her?”

“What?”

“She’s been pestering me to visit, saying there’s a confectionery store with all manner of sweets near her school. She said they’re really good.”

Ren chuckled. “Do you wanna meet her or do you wanna eat some sweets?” he said. Ann responded with one of her own, leaning back against the window.

“Do you remember when I told you about Shiho?” she asked.

Her voice was quiet under the cacophony of her classmates’ gossips and talks. She hoped her voice reached no one but Ren. From the corner of her eyes, she could see she had his full attention.

“We only met in middle school, but it always felt like I knew her my entire life. She was this weird girl, quiet. While everyone avoided me, she just... randomly struck a conversation with me, saying my painting sucked.” The memory prompted a wry grin spreading across her face. “My parents were always away, so my house was always empty. When Shiho learned about this, she started taking me to all sorts of places. Pastry shops. Bakeries. These cute accessory stores or just shopping for clothes. Sometimes, I go with her to visit some sports stores or help her practice before big games. I never missed her games...”

Ann trailed off. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were perusing the stores in Shibuya’s underground mall. Shiho had never tasted the buffet’s chocolate fountain either. When Ann went to visit her, maybe she could bring Shiho a crepe from that stand in Central Street Shiho loved so much. The small pang in her heart returned, clenching a little tighter.

After school, Ann refrained herself from pestering Ren to tell her where they were going. It was going to be a surprise, and she was content to let it stay that way. They rode the train to Shibuya and hopped off at the station. She half-expected Ren to lead her out and into Central Street, but they headed for the Keio Inokashira Line, where they boarded another train heading for Inokashira Park.

“We’re going to Inokashira Park?” Ann asked once they boarded the train and found an empty spot between a man in a suit and a woman carrying groceries.

“Yep,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate.

That was unexpected, though Ann wouldn’t say she minded going there. It had been a while, and strolling through the vast park under beautiful autumn leaves might be a great way to spend her birthday.

The ride took 20 minutes, give or take. They descended from the train, then exited the station to a quiet residential area. The park lay only a short walk away. Over a stone bridge crossing the river, trees with gold and brown leaves lined the path on both sides. Ann breathed in the crisp afternoon air, cool against her lungs. She always loved it here.

“So,” Ann said, turning around on her side and peering into his eyes. “What’s the plan?”

“Want me to tell you, or would you prefer it be a surprise?” He’d kept walking with hands in his pockets, his lips curving into the beginning of a smile.

Ann grinned. “Surprise me.”

Ren grinned back.

The first agenda of the day was a swan boat—one of the top tourist attractions of the park. Ren had apparently accompanied Yusuke on a ride once, where several people had thought them a couple. He had wanted to ride it with Ann after that. But when the rental place came into view, standing in the distance over the bank of the large pond, Ann ground her feet to a halt. Legend had it that the Goddess Benzaiten would curse any couple who rode the swan boat together. They would break up shortly thereafter.

“You really want to ride the boat?” Ann asked.

Noticing she had stayed back, Ren paused on his steps, tilting his head in genuine inquiry. “Why?” he asked. Ann refused to say why, partly because it was a ludicrous legend, partly because she feared the legend might come true. Understanding dawned on his face when she said nothing, and Ren pulled his lips into a teasing grin. “What, you’re afraid of some superstition?”

There were valid reasons one should be afraid of it. What if something bad truly happened to them and they broke up?

“If something bad truly happens and we break up,” Ren went on, “you can just blame the curse and forget all about me.”

Ann scoffed, feeling his reply was ridiculous enough to lighten her mood. “I could never forget you,” she said. Her answer brought a smile to his face, and Ren reached out to take her hand.

“That’s why I’m saying we should get on the boat and prove the legend wrong. Besides, would you really let some curse get between us?”

The answer was obvious as Ann felt her lips pulled into a quiet grin. He tugged her hand, then led her to the boat rental place.

It was her first time riding the boat too. It seemed fun, but she never had the chance to ride it. “Next time” had been her reason. If she thought about it now, there were no particular reasons behind it. Why? She could’ve ridden on it with Shiho if she wanted. Had Ann ingrained the curse so deep in her mind that she became incapacitated because of it? Because even without the bad luck, her life had already been a hell of its own.

People had shunned her. Some had even bullied her. She’d tried not to let it get to her, but for a twelve- or thirteen-year-old, peer pressure had been enough to corner her and make her think of the worst. Should I dye my hair black and wear contact lenses? If I look like everyone else, people may start to like me. These thoughts had spiraled down in her mind with no signs of stopping. She was always alone; her parents were never home. She had no one to depend on—until Shiho, but even that light only lasted three years before she was taken away from her.

Paddling the swan boat was harder than it looked. And with a difference in strength, it was hard to coordinate their movements. Ann would think their time in the metaverse had strengthened her muscles, but that did not seem like the case.

“You don’t look like it, but you’re pretty strong, aren’t you?” Ann said, huffing and puffing her breath.

Ren wasn’t entirely active in gym class either. He wasn’t the strongest nor the fastest. When the boys played soccer or basketball, he would always sit back. “I hate breaking a sweat,” he’d said once. Yet every time they were in the metaverse, he always looked like he was ready to show off.

Ren chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been going to the gym. Morgana nagged me to strengthen my muscles.”

Figures. The cat was behind everything. She should follow his example and visit the gym more often.

Wait—

“Where is Morgana?” Ann hadn’t seen him since morning.

Ren’s smile was wry. “When I told him I’ll be going on a date with you, he turned around and flicked his tail at me.”

“Poor guy. You should buy him something. What about sushi?”

“I should buy you something.”

Ann clicked her tongue in irritation then stared him down, her eyes hard. “You never gave him those tuna sushi, right?” He never did, from all the way back in August—Ann knew. Ren quickly relented, averting his gaze and finding some interesting spot to observe on the water. “It won’t be the high-end sushi bar like in Ginza, but I’m sure there are some delicious ones around here.”

“Then,” he said, “we’re having sushi for dinner.”

***

Massive trees lined the pond on either side. In the spring, pink and white sakura petals decorated the trees in its transient beauty. Ann often sat on the benches, under the awning of the low-hanging branches and overlooking the pond. She imagined that rowing a boat in the middle of it would feel like traversing through a forest. The thick foliage obscured the view of passers-by and park-goers, making it seem like she was in a dreamscape or fantasy, where there was only herself and nature.

That was what Ann felt now that she was sitting on a boat in the middle of the pond. But instead of sakura, the trees were now lined with gold and red and yellow with a dash of green here and there. They had stopped paddling, resting their legs. They’d gone quite far, their boat rocking between the gentle waves. Late sunlight dappled across the water surface. When a cool, crisp wind that brushed past her skin like a soft caress against her face, Ann watched the water rippling along with it. By the bank, leaves danced in the wind, swirling and dipping and soaring high until they flew out of sight.

“Having fun?” Ren asked. Ann nodded, drawing a quiet, contented breath. She felt his smile more than she saw it, before he shifted his gaze away and said, “I heard you’ve been wanting to ride the boat.”

That caught her attention. She turned to him.

“Who did you hear it from?”

“Shiho.” The answer rolled easily off his tongue, as though it was apparent. If Ren were any other person, Ann would have thought he might have heard it in passing or from Shiho herself. But he barely knew Shiho—barely talked to her before the incident in April—so how could he have known? He didn’t give her a chance to ask before he glanced behind his shoulder and said, “The sun almost set.”

The far eastern sky had grown a deep blazing orange while the sun made its slow descent behind them, sending out the last of its rays before dipping under the horizon. Ann swallowed her question as she moved to paddle alongside Ren to turn the boat around. They’d gotten the hang of it, finding the perfect rhythm between his paddling and hers. They reached the rental space by the time the sun completely disappeared.

Hand in hand, they headed for the gate leading toward Kichijoji. Various kinds of stores stood on both sides. From second-hand boutiques to chic cafes, furniture stores and handmade accessory stores. Ren’s focus had been on his phone for a while, typing one-handed as text message after text message came with each vibration and incoming beep.

“Who’re you talking with?” Ann asked.

“Hm? Oh, Sojiro.” The slight pause had tugged her curiosity, but when he met her inquiring gaze, Ren only said, “He’s making sure I don’t go home too late.”

That was nice, Ann thought, to have someone to worry about when he would get home. She didn’t have anyone like that.

Ren messed with his phone for a while longer. When Ann peeked, she noticed the map open on his screen. ‘Sushi bar’ was the search item and several red dots had appeared. Ren clicked and unclicked each dot, reading the descriptions and the reviews left on it, until he finally decided on a place and led her to it.

His phone beeped again. Another incoming message. Ann glanced at him right as Ren sent his reply.

“Boss again?”

Sojiro didn’t seem like the type to worry so much. Hadn’t he let Ren out on nights? Ren’s ambiguous nod only fed her suspicion that he was hiding something. She opened her mouth then, about to say something, when they rounded a corner and a voice she hadn’t expected to hear reach her ear.

“Ann.”

Ann froze.

Soft and meek, it was a voice she hadn’t heard in person for months. The last time Ann heard it was when they brought her to the school rooftop before she moved away. Ann slowly turned around in search of the source, and there, some twenty feet ahead, was a person she hadn’t expected to see. Dressed in a navy-blue jacket and white cropped trousers, her black hair tied in its usual ponytail, Shiho’s features lit up by the smile blossoming across her face. She held her hand high above her head, waving at her excitedly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Ren asked when Ann failed to react.

He was beaming, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Did he know? Did he plan this? Nonsense. Didn’t he know how far Shiho’s home now was? How had she even gotten to this place? On a school day, no less. Then there was her message that morning. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to. Shiho wouldn’t have said that if she’d planned to come. She wasn’t the type to surprise Ann like this. But—

I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you.

Ann slowly shifted her attention to her still-beaming boyfriend, who was nodding his head toward Shiho as if trying to say, go on. Go to her.

“Did you plan this?” Her voice was only above a whisper.

He replied with a shrug and a knowing smile. Maybe he thought this was what she wanted, and maybe it was—she’d said so herself; she wanted to meet Shiho. But as Ann loosened her hold on Ren’s hand and all she wanted was to cross the distance and hug Shiho with all her might—because Shiho was here! She’d travelled all the way here!—Ann found herself hitting Ren’s arm instead. Again and again and again—hitting him with a fist as, one by one, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Why did he bring Shiho here? Didn’t Ren know her friend was still in recovery? Didn’t he know she was still going to rehab every week? Ann knew, because Ann had been in touch with Shiho every other day. They’d texted each other and called each other. Ann knew everything that was going on in Shiho’s life as though she lived it herself. And Ann knew that every day was still a struggle, even though Shiho had said she could almost do everything by herself now. But almost was still not one hundred percent everything. Her physician praised her for improving so much in so little time, but they’d told her to not push her limit. And travelling was clearly pushing the limit.

What if something bad happened to Shiho on the way? What if Shiho could never return to how she once was?

Arms wrapped around her. Shiho rested her cheek on Ann’s shoulder, warm tears seeping into her school blazer.

“I’m alright, Ann,” Shiho whispered to her ear, over and over like a mantra. “I’m safe.”

***

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Ren said before he disappeared from the bar. Ann watched him leave from their seat by the corner. They’d ordered several sushi sets, Ren promising to pay for everything. From his part-time jobs, he’d explained to Shiho. Though there was probably some truth to his words, Ann knew most of it came from their Palace pilfering.

Silence descended, broken only when Shiho said, “Don’t blame him too much, Ann.”

Ann glanced at her friend before shifting her gaze to her hands. “I’m happy you’re here with me now, Shiho, but…” She shook her head. “Once we return, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. How could he have thought of bringing you all the way back to Tokyo?” If their sushi had arrived, Ann imagined she would have taken out her irritation on them. It’s not that she disliked Shiho’s presence. Just that…

“I wanted to.” Shiho’s quiet reply drew Ann’s attention to her. “I want to celebrate your birthday with you. And more than anything, I wanted to show you how well I’ve gotten.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, brightening her features. “And it’s not like I went alone. Mom’s here somewhere.”

“Your mom?”

Shiho gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I got an earful, though.”

“Serves you right! If you wanted us to meet, I could’ve gone to your place instead. In fact, we were just talking about that this afternoon.”

“But that wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

A muscle twitched along Ann’s jaw as Shiho let out another light laugh. Ann clenched both of her hands on the table, gritting her teeth at her friend’s nonchalant attitude.

“Don’t overestimate your body, Shiho, please. Didn’t the doctor say you shouldn’t push yourself? You’re not your one hundred percent yet. What if something irreversibly bad happens? Yes, it’s great to hear your health has gotten better and I can’t wait to hang out with you again, but—”

Shiho’s crippled form flashed across her mind. Her throat closed up; tears sprang in her eyes as Ann furiously blinked them away. When she spoke next, she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice:

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” If Shiho’s rush to return to her full potential backfired, Ann didn’t know if she could forgive herself.

The server brought their sushi with three glasses of cold green tea. Ann averted her gaze, brushing at a stray tear as she took out her phone and mumbled something about telling Ren the food had arrived. However, before she could, Shiho’s hand encompassed hers.

“Do you still blame yourself?” her friend asked.

Ann went still. “I don’t,” she said, even as her heart clenched tight and her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s not your fault, Ann.”

She knew that. She thought she did. That was why Carmen woke up from inside her. But then there were moments when she lay in the dark, when thoughts she never knew she ever had kept her awake the entire night.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. You should’ve noticed the signs. You should’ve known she was suffering. Even if there had been nothing you could’ve done, you should’ve been there for her at the least. You’re her friend! Why had you let her feel so alone, so cornered, that the only consolation she could find was on the other side of the rooftop ledge?

Shiho pulled her into her arms, whispering soothing words to her ear. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s not your fault, Ann. It never was.”

The dam broke. Ann clutched onto Shiho’s back as tears she never realized she had held streamed down her face.

***

Maybe it was an excuse—checking up on Shiho, or going to the sweets store near her school. All Ann ever wanted was to see her friend healthy again so they could have fun like they used to.

When Ren returned to his seat, Ann ended up giving him a piece of her mind. A little more nagging and scolding and refusing to speak with him for the rest of the day. Shiho joked that it must have been Benzaiten’s curse, at which Ren laughed and Ann frowned.

“We’re not breaking up,” Ann said with certainty.

Shiho and Ren looked at her in surprise, after which Shiho said to Ren, “You heard her, Ren-kun.” They snickered at Ann’s expanse.

Shiho’s mother had gone to Kichijoji’s shopping arcade before she went to pick her daughter up at the sushi bar. Ann drew an internal sigh of relief when she saw no signs of vexations on her face as she greeted Ann with a smile. When the girls introduced Ren, however, there was a frozen stillness to her features that even made the unflappable Ren break out in sweats.

They waved her goodbye, but before they turned around the corner to wherever her mother parked her car, Shiho turned around once and shouted, “Come over sometimes, okay?” Shiho beamed, waving her hand high, then disappeared from view.

“You heard her,” Ren said. She did.

Ren offered his hand, but Ann only spared it a glance before turning her back on him and heading down the opposite direction from Shiho. Ren fell into step beside her.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No need.”

“Even so.”

Night had fallen. Lights flickered along the storefronts and windows. Conversations floated around as they walked in silence between passers-by in the shopping district.

As they turned the corner and headed back toward the park, Ann murmured, “Thanks.”

She’d acted strong—acted like she had accepted everything. That was never the case. A part of her—an insecure part of her—always came in the middle of the night to whisper despicable things about herself. Fake. Impostor. She only joined the Phantom Thieves because she felt guilty about Shiho. She’d sought to change the hearts of vile adults so no one would have to suffer like her again. It was true, but that was only half of the truth. In all honesty, Ann wanted to seek forgiveness. A redemption. If she accomplished many good deeds, maybe the Gods would hear her prayer and give Shiho her health back.

As the park came into view, Ann felt Ren’s gaze on her. She still refused to meet it, but let her face break into a tiny crack of a smile. The twinge of pain in her heart gradually subsided, leaving her feeling liberated, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her mind.

~ END ~

#ann takamaki #ren amamiya #shiho suzui #shuann #renann #persona #persona 5 #fanfiction #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic #annweek2020

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katefiction · 4 years ago

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A Royal Christmas Carol

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

The voices of hundreds of feverish and excitable people rose and fell through the crowd. Occasionally, snippets of conversation could be heard like little balls bouncing up from the ground. ‘How much? Ten pounds?’, ‘Oh she’ll absolutely love that!’, ‘It looks yummy…I might just have to try one’.

Catherine Middleton’s voice was just one of them.

‘Brutwurst for the pretty lady?’ a vendor said, thrusting a long German sausage in her direction.

‘Oh no thank you’ she replied politely.

‘Only two pounds for you’ he said, with a twinkle in his eye, his thick German accent adding extra charm, ‘it’s delicious!’

‘I’m sure, but I’ve just had some stollen and mulled wine from that stall over there’ she said pointing to one of the wooden huts that were lined neatly in a row.

‘Stolen my business!’ he said, throwing his arms theatrically in the air, followed by something in German that Kate presumed to be an expletive.

Kate giggled, pushing William along gently before they were convinced into buying any more food. They both already had a bag each filled with meats, gingerbread and fudge.

It seemed to William that his new housemate wanted to stop at every stall possible at the Christmas Market that had landed in St Andrew’s that December day.

‘Oh that’s gorgeous!’ Kate enthused, looking at some blown glass baubles with a hand painted design.

William trudged on behind her, his feet sore from the walking and fingers numbing in the wintery air. He pondered for a second whether this was what having a proper girlfriend felt like. The constant pretence of being interested in the wooden toys, sparkling decorations and handmade crafts that Kate had insisted on showing him that afternoon. Not to mention always having to carry the heavier shopping bag.

Still, William might not mind all that much if Kate were his girlfriend.

‘What do you think Will? Should I get one for Mum?’ she said holding a bauble up to the last bit of daylight there was left.

‘Urm, yeh?’ he replied, looking over to his protection officers who blended into the crowd like two bored men waiting for their wives.

‘Oh I don’t know though, she might not like it. It’s one of those marmite things, you know, she’ll either love it or hate it’

William nodded, ‘how much is it?’

‘Twelve pounds’

‘For ONE bauble?!’ he exclaimed.

‘You’re paying for the quality and the craftsmanship’ she explained.

‘Extortionate’ he muttered so the vendor couldn’t hear him.

‘Oh don’t start that again’ she laughed putting the bauble down and walking away from the little wooden hut a little mournfully.

It was a fact well known that William Wales hated Christmas. He thought it a brazen excuse for companies to rip people off. Who says you should have a turkey, a tree, and a mound of brussel sprouts at the table? And why, oh why must Christmas songs be obligatory from November onwards?

As they walked back to their little home in Hope Street, Kate rattled off all the things she still needed to get for their house Christmas meal.

‘We still need crackers, and to decorate the tree, oh and I should fish out my snowman slippers!’

If William weren’t as enamoured with Kate as he was, he would find this irritating. But the plain fact was that just recently, he found nothing about Kate irritating.

The way she threw her hair behind her shoulders, sending a gentle waft of her shampoo scent in his direction. The manner in which she gently touched his arm when she was teasing him. He liked everything, every little thing.

‘I think the snowman slippers are going a bit far’ he said drily.

‘Oh bah humbug!’ she retorted.

Just as he was about to tell her how her festive spirit was all a concoction of the media driven world, a small ball of energy, about knee height crashed into them.

‘Whoa’ Will shouted, almost dropping his bag.

‘Tim!!!’ screeched a high Scottish voice.

From around the corner leading up to Hope Street came a rather dishevelled looking woman. From a far, she looked like she could be fifty, with dark thin hair and bags under her eyes. As she grew closer, however, it was clear to William and Kate that she was thirty at the most.

‘Say sorry Tim!’ she shouted at the little boy, who was now peering into William’s carrier bag.

‘Sorry’ he said.

‘It’s fine’ Kate said kindly.

Tim, like his mother, was scrawny and tiny too for his ten years.

‘Righ’ come on’ Tim’s mother said, grabbing him and pulling him along the street.

‘But Ma, they’ve go’ a turkey!’ they heard him say, ‘you said the shops were all out o’ turkeys!’

‘They must’ve gone somewhere fancy, we can’nae afford somewhere fancy’ she replied.

It was true, William and Kate had queued for half an hour for their turkey from a high end butchers in town.

‘But I want a turkey this Christmas!’ he moaned.

‘I said no! We’ll have ham’

Their voices were cut off when they entered one of the terraced houses on the street William and Kate were walking down.

‘I feel terrible now’ Kate said, looking down at their overflowing bags.

‘Don’t, if we hadn’t been preconditioned to associate turkeys with Christmas, that little boy wouldn’t know any different’

‘Do you ever get tired of being a Scrooge?’ she asked.

‘No’ he laughed.

‘What made you hate Christmas so much anyway?’ Kate said as they approached their house.

‘No reason’ William said. ‘I just do’

Christmas Past

‘Where are you going!?’ she shrilled.

‘I told you, I have a meeting’ he responded calmly.

‘I don’t believe you’ she said defiantly.

‘Well that’s not my problem’

William stood behind the door, peeking through the crack at the two figures inside his father’s study. He couldn’t see much, just the odd shadow or a splash of blonde hair going back and forth.

‘I don’t want you to go!’ she continued.

‘I have to’

‘Please Charles…’

Sometimes the shadows would come closer and William would jump back quickly, scared to be found eavesdropping.

After a minute’s silence, the voice of his mother came again, but quietly this time. ‘I know where you’re really going’ she said at almost a whisper.

‘I am going to a meeting’ he said sternly.

‘Why must you lie? Why must you lie to me?’

William could hear the familiar closing of her throat, her voice becoming wobbly. He pressed his eye closer to the door crack.

‘William, what are you playing?’

William was almost thrown backwards by his heart jumping at the shock of his six year old brother’s voice behind him.

‘Shhhhhh’ he ordered quietly, turning around with his hands on his hips. ‘Go away’

‘Why?!’ Harry said at his normal volume.

‘I said shhh!, it’s grown-ups only’

‘You’re not a grown up’ Harry sulked.

‘I’m more of a grown up than you now push off’. He attempted to push his brother down the hallway, but he wouldn’t budge.

‘I’m gonna tell mummy and papa you were spying’ Harry said, poking his tongue out.

The voices inside the study began to raise once again, footsteps approaching the door.

‘It’s Christmas in two days Charles! Please think of the boys!’

The footsteps stopped briefly. ‘I must go, I’m sorry’.

Darkness covered the whole crack of the door and William sprang to action.

‘Go, move!’ he said, pushing Harry down the hallway and around a corner just as the door swung open. Neither Harry nor William dared peek to watch their father descending the stairs, but they heard him. Seconds later, their mother’s heels clicked on the hardwood and she shouted over the bannister.

‘I hope you’re happy! You’ve ruined Christmas! Ruined it!’

A door slammed. Then there was silence.

‘Go back to the playroom’ William told Harry as they released themselves from the soldier like stance against the wall.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ll come in a minute’

‘And we can play spies again!?’ Harry brightened.

‘Yes, we can play spies’ he agreed.

Harry ran off, leaving William to tread carefully down the hall, purposely avoiding the creaky floorboards he knew so well. He went into the study and pulled a few tissues from the tissue box on his father’s desk and set off to find the familiar sound of sobbing.

It wasn’t long before he found it, at the end of the hall in the first floor bathroom.

‘Mummy?’ he said to the shut door. There was no response, just the harmony of sobs.

‘Mummy?’ he said again. She couldn’t hear him, so consumed by her sorrow as she was.

Deftly, William kneeled onto the floor and pushed each tissue under the door one by one. Then he waited, and waited and waited until finally she came out, mascara wiped from her cheeks, her smile back on her face, but the sparkle gone from her eyes.

Christmas Present

William had never told anyone that it was that Christmas when he was eight years old that has ruined it for him for years to come. No-one need know how his parent glared at each other in stony silence over the turkey at the dinner table. They didn’t need to know how Charles had lavished gifts on the boys that year, only for Diana to say he was ‘trying to make up for something’ when she thought they weren’t listening.

He’d never enjoyed Christmas since that year, and after his mother passed, it seemed even more meaningless.

‘We’re home!’ Kate called to their housemates, as she brushed her boots onto the door mat.

Fergus bounded down the stairs, eager to lay his hands on the sweet treats they’d bought.

‘Don’t let him near them!’ Kate said immediately to William, ‘they’re for tomorrow’

‘What a taskmaster’ Fergus laughed. ‘Was she like this all day?’

William stared at Kate dopily but said nothing. Their hands had just touched when she took his bag off him and he was reeling from the after effects.

‘Helloooo?’ Fergus said. ‘Bit distracted are we?’

William frowned at his friend, but Kate was so caught up in her festive haze that she didn’t notice.

‘Can you two unpack this stuff? I need to put up the tree’ she called from the kitchen where she placed the shopping down. ‘But no snacking, Will I’m trusting you to keep him in check’

She flashed a wide grin at him, causing butterflies to flutter inside his stomach.

‘I’ll rugby tackle him if I have to’ he said.

After Kate had gone upstairs to relay the wonders of the Christmas Market to Olivia, Fergus set about interrogating William.

‘So did you talk to her?’ he said, inspecting a gingerbread man.

‘About what?’ he replied, his cheeks flushing.

Fergus sighed, ‘About you two, you should do it before Christmas’

‘There’s no rush’

‘Not if you’re not worried about her going home for a few weeks and kissing some loser from Bucklebury under the mistletoe’

William didn’t reply to this, focussing instead on a bottle of wine.

‘I’m just saying, you don’t wanna leave it too late, Kate’s a good one’

‘I know that’

William more than knew that. But beneath it all, he was shy and insecure and did he really want a steady girlfriend anyway? He tore open the gingerbread man to distract himself.

‘William!’ came Kate’s voice from the stairs as she spotted him eating the biscuit.

‘Sorry’ he smiled. ‘Couldn’t resist’

She tutted and rolled her eyes at him.

‘You keep telling me to get into the festive spirit, so I did!’ he teased and read from the label of the gingerbread, ‘“enjoy your Christmas with Gingerbread George” – see he told me to eat him’

Kate pulled it off him and snapped off the arm to taste ‘Gingerbread George knows that festive spirit isn’t about eating yourself silly’

‘You tell him Kate!’ Fergus chimed in. ‘It’s about drinking yourself silly too’

Kate scowled at Fergus playfully, ‘it’s about spending time with your loved ones and being thankful that you have them’

‘Isn’t that thanksgiving?’ William teased.

‘Yeh and Christmas is about Jesus?’ Fergus added.

‘You two are impossible!’ she huffed jokingly.

As Kate went over to the living area to decorate the tree, Fergus saw an opportunity to leave them alone, patting Will on the back and sprinting upstairs.

‘So what do you do on the actual day?’ Will asked, helping her to attach some baubles to the tree.

‘We usually go to church, and take a nice walk, play board games…oh and dad usually buys some kind of fancy dress outfit and turns up in it’

Will laughed at the thought of Mr Middleton in fancy dress.

‘Pretty similar to our family Christmas then, minus the fancy dress’ he said.

‘See, not so different, you and me’ she said with a nudge.

‘Apart from you actually like Christmas!’

‘I’ll make a convert of you yet, just you wait’

‘I doubt I’ll ever enjoy it’ he said, his mother’s dulled blue eyes suddenly popping into his head.

‘Maybe when you have kids you’ll change your mind’ she said placing the star at the top of the tree.

William scoffed, ‘doubt it’

Then would’ve been the perfect time to talk to her about how he felt. Surely that little nudge was a sign?

Kate looked at him expectantly, like she was waiting for him to say something. But his thoughts had been clouded by memories of Christmas’ past, the stale feeling it gave him, the one he thought he’d never get over.

‘No, Christmas is about money and pretending to like people you wouldn’t talk to any other time of the year’

Kate shook her head; clearly her patience with William’s attitude was waning.

‘Well I’ll enjoy it regardless’ she said plainly, getting up and heading upstairs again.

Will cursed himself; he’d just missed his chance.

Christmases Yet To Come

That night, he slept fitfully, images of Kate and Gingerbread George floating in his mind. He had probably eaten too much of it, he thought as he drifted uncomfortably from reality to dream.

He found himself standing in a large living room, a sparkling tree in the corner, a cream sofa covered in thick throws and a fire crackling under the mantelpiece.

To his shock, out from one of the rooms came someone who looked very much like himself. Well a version of himself that he almost didn’t recognise. This William had bags under his eyes and much less hair, but he was smiling, beaming even at something he was holding in his arms.

‘Rockin’ around the Christmas tree, at the Christmas party shop’ he sang, bouncing the thing up and down in his arms.

‘Those aren’t the lyrics’ came a voice he knew so well.

Kate appeared from the room looking just as, if not even more beautiful than William knew her.

‘It’s Christmas party hop, not shop, that doesn’t make any sense’ she added.

‘Alright Mother Christmas!’ he laughed. ‘Mummy’s such a know-it-all isn’t she?’

It was only then that Will noticed what his older self was holding. A bouncing baby boy.

Was it his? Surely it couldn’t be his.

‘George, tell daddy that mummy does know it all, yes I do’ she said tickling the baby’s stomach. ‘Especially about Christmas’

Kate held up a tiny red knitted jumper that she’d had behind her back, a reindeer design was on the front.

‘That’s ridiculous’ the two Williams said in unison. The younger clapped his hand over his mouth before realising that no-one could hear or see him.

‘It’s cute Will!’ Kate insisted.

‘He’s gonna be boiling in that thing’

‘He’ll be fine for a few minutes while we take some pictures, won’t you my pumpkin?’

William sighed in defeat.

As he stood observing from the corner, William recognised the look that his older self was giving Kate as the same dopy look he often gave her in their home at Hope Street. Was it conceivable that this could be his future? Married to Kate and with a baby that he sang Christmas songs to?

George screamed out as Kate tugged the jumper gently over his head.

‘He hates it!’ William shouted over the noise.

Will walked over to the sofas and sat close to the three of them, finding himself grinning at their domesticity.

Kate managed to get the jumper on and began snapping away with her camera, while William stood behind her making faces at the baby until finally after all the fuss, George cracked open a huge smile.

‘That’s my boy!’ Kate beamed.

For the next hour, or what felt like an hour as he had no sense of time, Will followed the family around the house. He watched them as they laughed together, chatted about a trip to Australia and other everyday things. He smiled with them when they fed George, and got frustrated with them when he wouldn’t eat.

When George was safely tucked up in bed, they sat down again at the couch, and he was surprised to see his older self voluntarily switching on Miracle on 34th Street. What had happened to him?

‘I love this film’ Kate said happily, tossing her legs up onto William’s.

‘It’s a good one, especially that scene at the end in the court room’

‘Do I need to get you some tissues?’ Kate teased.

William smirked at her, as did Will.

So this was what normal family life was all about, he thought.

Just as he was about to get comfortable and watch the film with them, darkness clouded over his dream, pulling him away.

He tossed and turned in his bed, neither waking nor going back to that room in Kensington Palace. Instead, he found himself plunged into a study, just like the one his father had.

There was William, the older, sitting at the desk, writing letters. Only this time, he was even older, fifty maybe. He sat with no expression on his face, a lamp flickering on his desk. There were no pictures on his desk, no sign of his wife or child, just emptiness.

‘Oi’ Will shouted.

But William couldn’t hear him.

He walked around the desk and behind the chair, where he could see William dating the letters as 24th December.

‘Oi’ he repeated. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, what are you doing here alone? Shouldn’t you be with your family or something?’

Will knew instinctively that there was no Kate or George in this scenario. This was the William of a future without a family.

And he hated it. He wanted to see himself ice skating with his kids, or chasing after them with snowballs. He wanted to be forced to watch Christmas movies, and eat turkey and brussel sprouts, and spend ridiculous money on visiting Father Christmas’ grotto with George.

‘Get off your arse!’ he shouted at his older self. ‘It’s Christmas!’

‘Get up! You’re married remember?! Go to your family!’

Of course the older William didn’t move, he merely sat solemnly, and just like he’d seen somewhere before, the sparkle gone from blue his eyes.

Will woke with a start, feeling like he hadn’t been asleep at all. He sat up for a few minutes dazed from being snapped out of the particularly vivid dream. But it had felt so real, he thought. He could almost taste the crackling fire from his apartment.

On walking downstairs, unable to stay in bed any longer, he found Kate warming some croissants in the oven.

‘Morning’ she said brightly. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Not really’ he said rubbing his eyes, ‘I had the weirdest dreams’

‘About what?’

He considered for a moment telling her the truth, but maybe it was a little too strange. ‘Um Gingerbread George…he came to life’ he said.

Kate laughed.

‘Can I help you with the lunch today?’ he asked.

She eyed him suspiciously, ‘you want to help?’

‘What’s wrong with that?!’

‘No, nothing’ she said, waving a butter knife in the air, ‘just surprised that you want anything to do with Christmas, that’s all’

William smiled, ‘I promise I won’t do anything without your approval’

‘Fine, you can start on the turkey stuffing, that’s hard to mess up’ she joked.

So William and Kate set about making Christmas lunch. William was pleased to spend this time alone with Kate before they went home and once or twice he almost plucked up the courage to ask her out. The dreams from last night still ran through his mind. If he didn’t ask her now, would he end up that lonely old man working on Christmas Eve? Was it even possible that he could know a happy family life so different from those tense Christmases of the past?

By the time Olivia and Fergus emerged in the kitchen, William was still mulling over his thoughts and was alone with Kate no longer.

Timed perfectly by Kate, at one o’clock, the four of them sat down at their small table, food and drink almost falling over the edges.

‘It all looks amazing’ Olivia enthused, ‘I can’t wait for you to cut into that turkey’ she said to Kate.

The turkey was the centrepiece of the table setting, golden brown and oozing with juices and stuffing.

‘Actually I think Will should have the honours’ Kate said, slipping on her snowman slippers for the occasion.

‘Me?’ he said unconvinced.

‘You’ve shown your Christmas spirit today, plus you made most of it, it’s only fair you should carve it’.

They exchanged a look over the table, and Will knew he was doing the dopey eyes again, realising how much he liked Kate’s attention.

‘There’s enough to feed a small army here’ Fergus remarked as William picked up the knife.

Just as he was about to slice the knife through the turkey, he stopped abruptly.

‘Will?’ Kate said.

‘You’re right…you’re absolutely right’ he said vacantly.

He dropped the knife on the table and picked up the entire turkey, platter and all.

‘Um Will, are you ok? … where are you going with that?’ Kate said, concerned as William headed for the front door.

Kate, Fergus and Olivia exchanged worried glances.

‘Come with me’ Will said, attempting to put on a baseball cap while balancing the turkey with one hand.

‘Where?!’ Kate asked, but William was already on the doorstep, so she was forced to jump up and follow him.

William turned right from their home, and strode up the street purposefully. ‘Keep up!’ he teased as he turned and saw Kate rushing behind him.

They rounded a corner onto the next street and William looked searchingly at each door, finally recalling the one he wanted.

It was then that Kate understood what was happening, and she couldn’t help smiling to herself as William rang the doorbell at his chosen house.

The door opened a few inches, ‘we haven’t got any spare change’ a voice snapped from behind the door, and began to shut it again.

‘No we’re not collecting for charity’ William said quickly. ‘I’d just like to…well I have something I’d like to give you’

‘I’m not interested in finding Jesus’ she said spikily.

‘Wait please’ he said before she could slam the door in his face, ‘we met yesterday, we live down the road, your son’s Tim isn’t it?’

‘What has he done now?! TIM!!!!!!!!!!’ she screeched.

‘Nothing!’ Kate attempted, ‘please could you open the door’

The woman finally relented; opening the door fully as tiny Tim came storming down the stairs.

‘Wow! Ma look a’ tha’ turkey!’ he said, his eyes transfixed.

William grinned at his excitement. ‘It’s for you, if you’d like it’

‘Wha’ for?’ the woman said suspiciously.

William pondered for a second and then said, ‘call it Christmas spirit?’

Kate beamed and placed a hand on William’s back.

‘There’s nothing wrong with it honestly, we made it this morning, I know it’s a bit large…’

‘…but you can cut it up and put it in the freezer until Christmas day if you’d prefer’ Kate finished for him.

‘I’ve go’ three more kids in there’ she said, ‘they’ll polish that off’

‘So you’ll accept it?’ Kate said hopefully. ‘As a gift’

‘I can’nae really say no, can I?’. For the first time the woman smiled, softening her face considerably.

William handed the turkey to her, and ruffled Tim’s hair, who was still transfixed.

‘Thank you’ the woman said. ‘From all o’ us’

‘No problem’, Will said, lowering his hat and turning away.

‘Wait, what are your names?’ she said.

‘It doesn’t matter’ William said. ‘Merry Christmas to you all’

‘Merry Christmas’ she said back to them both.

William and Kate walked back to Hope Street partly in silence, nothing really needing to be said.

‘Do you think Olivia and Fergus will be pissed off I’ve given their turkey away?’ William asked eventually, as they walked purposely slowly.

‘We have more than enough other food’ Kate said sensibly. ‘Besides they’ll have the same opinion as me when they know where it went’

‘Which is?’ he said, smirking.

‘That you’re very sweet and even a little awesome’

William stopped in the pavement, ‘you think I’m awesome?’

‘You know I do’ she said rolling her eyes as if it was a silly question.

‘Right…well the thing is, I think you’re kind of awesome too’ he said, with all the confidence he could muster.

‘Do you?’ she gave him a smile that made him blush.

‘And I was thinking…maybe when we come back after the break, we could…um…you know’ William was bright red and running out of words.

‘Be awesome together?’ Kate suggested.

‘Yes, exactly, if you wanted to, obviously’ he mumbled.

‘I thought you’d never get the hint’ she chuckled.

‘Well I’m not very observant’ he said calmly though his spirits soaring.

Kate reached on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek, sending the flush roaring back to his face.

Maybe that dream last night wasn’t just a dream, perhaps it was the push he so badly needed, he thought optimistically.

He looked down and saw that to his great amusement, Kate was still in her snowman slippers.

‘Nice slippers’ he teased, pulling a face at their gaudiness.

‘Oh bah humbug!’

#katefiction #royal fanfiction #cambridge fanfiction #kate middleton

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razanartuk · 3 years ago

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about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

#mel.rtf #abt me #tag games

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