#Automatic Doors Automatic Gates Reflex Gates Reflex Doors

[shocymer]

121U. 「 Want To Want You 」

"Accidentally crash in to the afterparty of your college football club. There's not a single thought that you end up making out with their hot quarterback."

Pairing : Baekhyun × afab! reader

Word counts : 1.5k

Contents & Warning : suggestive, university! AU, football player! Baekhyun, strangers to lovers, inspired by Day6 -121U.

× Happy late-Birthday, Baekhyun! × | masterlist | a cup of ☕

“Where? Huh? Your major’s festival? Okay okay I’ll be there, I’ll call you back later.” Hanging up the call with your bestie, you rushed up to her faculty building.

Now is 11 p.m. In fact, your best friend asked you to join her since the afternoon. But you've need to gather some reference books in the library first. Too immersed in it, you can’t believe it's almost midnight already.

Isn't it too lively at this late hour? Many tents were still set up firmly, decorated with vivid hanging lamps on each booth. There are still a lot of visitors coming in and out. Feels so different on the first time you set foot here, especially seeing the unusual views. Yeah you admit that you’re not such an update student when it’s come to campus events. Seems like what your best friend said is true, you need to have a little fun at least during your college year.

‘Ding’ a notification sound lit up your phone screen under your grasp. A simple text message showed up the second you are tapping on it.

(Bestie) bae don't call me, my phone is nearly dying. Oh I’m in the blue one! Cya xoxoxo

Ah, seriously? You thought while typing a quick reply.

(You) mkayy

Whether you’re tired or something, the first thing you do is looking for a blue tent just like what 'you assume' she said. As far as the eye could see, there’s no sign of a blue tent around. You let out a deep sigh before decided to left the festival area. Thinking that it will be easier to find those place outside rather than in there.

Once taking a few steps out of the entrance gate, you see a beam of blue light radiating in the corner of the groups of tents. You approach where the light initially came from in confidence. Hoping to find your best friend then drag her home right away. But after you are getting closer, seems like it came through from a different place, which turned out to be separated from the festival booths. However, you still give it a go. Who knows she might be there, right?

The vibe is obviously too contrast, a faint upbeat music began to be heard clearly as you slowly enter the tent. Lot of unfamiliar faces are busy talking to each other. At the time like this, you regret not to be friends with another major students long before.

Beyond your expectation, the tent is connected to a building you've never been to. The deeper you go, the blue light becomes denser. You look around, groups of supposed to be female students surrounded each of male students, having an exhilarating convo that you still unsure about. But It’s giving a party to celebrate something. A slight hint of alcohol odor is also filled the room made you so sure of it. Your curiosity is answered once you saw a pile of football helmet proudly placed at the corner along with a big trophy next to it.

Well, it looks like you got lost here. Automatically shook your head after thinking of how this party coincides with the festival outside. You intended to get out as soon as possible. Alas, the group of girls you saw earlier simultaneously ran after one of the football players, till you pushed to the side.

Hand grabbed the door handle in reflex as you tried to stand still, “crazy, how famous are these guys here?” You said irritably.

Little did you know there’s someone next to you, chuckling at your words. His long fingers covered the thin lips of his, trying to muffle the laughter. Those voice was so satisfactionaly crisp that it tickled your ears. He stopped doing so after both of your eyes met.

Breathtaking. is the first word that comes to your mind. The way those eye smile formed when he is laughing despite a few strands of damp hair subtly covered it. His tall and quite slender figures caught your eyes the most. You can’t believe with those delicate look, he is literally one of them as the game jersey still wrapped around his torso perfectly fit. You stare at him in awe, wondering how pretty his pair of orbs can be if there’s a chance to looking at it up-close.

“Are you okay?” He asked after realizing you were lost in thought for a moment.

“Y-Yeah I’m totally fine.”

Leaning closer to you, he raised his voice a little bit right next to your ear. “But you don’t seem so. Perhaps, do you need something to drink?”

You're the one who's gone crazy, the music has been this loud ever since. How can you mesmerized at this man to the point you could caught his laughter so clearly before. You tried to collect your own sanity before lean over to him,

“No thanks, there’s only booze that I see around.”

His mouth form an “A” shape for a couple of seconds, before fully suggested you something, “I have some water. If you don’t mind, c’mere.”

You nodded as following his back behind, opening the door that you held for your dear life a few minutes ago, which is the football team’s locker room. Even this room decorated with much darker blue light just to match the party vibes. At least your hearing is saved as only less loud music can be heard outside.

He handed you a black metallic water bottle, “I never see you before.”

“Uhm well, actually my faculty is 5 buildings away from here. So.. Yeah” You gulped down the water that he offer to you. “Thanks by the way.”

“Sure no problems.”

After that only silence remained, the mood’s shifting undeniably fast. Looking at how awkward both of you right now. You pay close attention to what is printed on his back. ‘Baekhyun’ and number ‘04’ are visibly written on it. Sometimes he took a glance at you only to catch you red-handed staring at him so intent. Feeling like a blood rushed up to his head, he's too shy to say anything. He decided to brush it aside by ruffling his still damped hair.

Your fingertips itching to reach his front bangs while blurting out few words under your sense, “you’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry your hair properly.”

As your hand nearly touch his hair, he grab it swift motion. “Just.. don’t touch it.”

“Ah sorry I didn’t mea-”

Before you succeed pulling your hand back, he brought it to his cheek while keeping the eye contact with you. Slowly, his lips putting a soft kisses by the end of your palm. “Can you dry it off for me?”

Without a single thought, you reach an unclaimed towel that’s neatly folded on the bench. Then stretching out your hands to dry his hair off as you positioned yourself face to face along to him. At first you actually did that heartily. But after you realized he didn't let go of his gaze towards you as if you would disappear at any moment, your rationality poofs away.

Too dangerous. Your heart beats goes up in rapid speed. If it’s not under the dim light the flushed cheeks of yours would definitely be seen by him,

“why.. you keep staring at me like that?”

“Because I want to.”

“What If.. I want you?” Fingers squeezing through the hem of slightly wet cloth that cling on top his head as you expected perhaps a rejection.

“Well, If that’s the case,” he tucked your hair behind your ear, “I will let you have me.”

His index finger lifted your chin, demanding an eye contact meanwhile his other hand busy untangled your clenched digits to be interlocked with his. Bodies lean forward, the tip of lips are nearly touching, the scent of soft linen and a hint of floral mixed into one only to tease your sense of smell. His warm breath sparked the overflowing desire,

“Please.. don’t tease me..”

He chuckled with head hanging low for a mere seconds before his deep brown orbs seeking through into yours for once again, “first I need to know your name, young lady.” While planting a quick kiss on the back of your hand.

Your lips trembled, stumbling upon the word by word of your own government name which ended up make him burst in laughter. He find you too cute to be true. “Your name is beautiful, just like you.”

He pulled you into deep yet passionate kisses. A slight of naughty smile formed on his lips, the way he felt your body shudder as soon as his fingers running from the nape of your neck down to the lower back. Moving in painfully slow motion.

Head’s going blank, eyelids are too heavy to open, you murmured between the making out session under your control. “But.. I’m not as beautiful as you Baekhyun..”

Out of everyone’s encounter him in romantic ways, you’re the one and only who’s flatter him using the word ‘beautiful’ at such timing. He couldn’t help, hiding an ear to ear smile against your shoulder. Till his soft whisper blown into your sensitive ear.

“Just wait, I will prove you wrong after this.” following by a michievous wink in the end.

a.n. I know it's a sudden baekhyun fic because I miss him lately after I rewatch exo's killing voice T.T He's my ult bias in exo and I really want to tell him that he's so beautiful, gorgeous, spectacular, amazing, breathtaking, scrumptious, immaculate + other praises following behind. Oh well, Happy Birthday Byun Baekhyun! ♡

[the1975attheirverybest]

(Cabin) Pressure

A/N: This is probably unnecessary and super indulgent, lmao. I just have this impossible urge to baby him, OKAY? he's so....UGH!! anywaysssss!!! As requested by quite a few of you, here's part 2 of the flight one-shot. on a scale from 1 to absolute dumpster fire, lmk how bad it is, lol. Honestly I’m so conflicted about posting it, I might end up deleting later. AND YES SMUT COMING TONIGHT, I PROMISE. Just can't be writing smut at work in case one of my students comes to my office.

Read Part 1 here.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, depiction of panic attack.

----

The guys hurried ahead to give her and Matty some privacy. She felt Matty's hand stiffen in hers as soon as he watched the automatic doors of the Departures Terminal open and his bandmates walk right in. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his breathing quickened.

She squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to his body. "Hey," she looked up at him. "You're gonna be alright, yeah?"

Matty gave her a weak smile, nodding slowly. He wasn't sure he believed her. He wanted to. Desperately. But he couldn't control it. It was like his body reflexively reacted to his surroundings before his mind could step in and control how he felt. He could physically sense the tension seeping into his body, right on cue.

"Well, shall we?" he turned to her.

"No pressure. Take as long as you need. We've got time. We'll go in whenever you're ready."

"But the lads-"

"Matty, look at me...there you are. We'll catch up with them at the gate, yes? It's okay." Her free hand moved to touch his face, the sensation grounding him.

"Right, sorry, I'm being silly." he smiled timidly. "Okay, think I'm read. Let's do this."

"Lead the way."

She kept her eye on him as they made their way through the airport, watching his body for any signs of stress.

Matty stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw the airline counters at the end of the hall.

"Fuck! My passport! Don't think it's in my bag! I don't remember seeing it-"

"Oh, god, sorry! I- I took it." she winced and looked apologetically up at him. "Sorry, I- uh, I thought if I kept track of the tickets, paperwork, and passports it...would give you some wiggle room so you didn't have to worry about sorting that stuff out...It's all with me! I have them here..."

To her surprise, and relief, Matty burst out laughing. "I think by thinking so hard about not panicking, I'm startin' to stress myself out. Alright, deep breaths."

She watched Matty close his eyes and take two deep breaths. Inhaling slowly, then opening his eyes as he exhaled.

"Okay, I'm all good now." He smiled, genuine this time. "And, thank you, baby, that was really kind of you to do." He dipped his head down to give her a quick kiss.

She rummaged through her bag, pulling out their documents as they approached the counter. "I can do it if you'd like..."

"No, it's okay. Think I can handle this. But, umm, keep holdin' my hand?" He blushed as he heard his own words leave his lips.

"Of course. I'm right here. All the way until security physically separates us."

***

With check-in and security now behind them, they wandered the airport in search of their gate, and the rest of their group. Matty seemed to relax a little, so she took the chance to suggest breakfast.

"Hey, wanna go over there and get something to eat?" she point towards the express version of some chain restaurant.

"Too anxious to eat. Afraid I won't be able to keep anything down."

"Please, baby? the nausea's probably worse when you're operating on an empty stomach. Let me buy you a little snack? you don't have to eat it right away..." She noticed Matty's attention shift from her gentle pleading to something else, something right behind her. "What're you looking at?" she frowned at the faint smile on his face. Turning around to check what was behind her, she saw a pair of young women, roughly in their early 20s, eyeing him hesitantly and struggling to contain their excitement.

"do you mind waitin' a bit? Think I'll go over there."

"Matty, are you sure? You know you don't have to do that if you're not feeling it."

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, my love. Put yourself in their shoes...you're tellin' me that if we bumped into, I don't know, Harry Styles, right now, you wouldn't go up to him to say hello?"

She giggled and shook her head. "I- I wouldn't expect HIM to be the one to come to ME."

"Oh, so now you're telling me that, if Harry Styles were right here, right now, you'd actually have the courage to go up to him yourself?"

She couldn't help but smile. At least, the fact that he took the opportunity to tease her about her celebrity crush was an indicator that he was in a good enough mood. "Alright, let's go say hi." She relented.

"I appreciate you watching out of me." He placed his hands on her cheeks, kissing her, and giggling against her lips bit at the sound of the girls squealing behind him before he went over to greet them.

He sweetly introduced himself as Matty and gave each woman a hug, whispering "nice to meet you, Darlin'" as he pulled them in. He signed the backs of their itineraries, agreed to FaceTime a friend, and stood for pictures with them.

"Do you wanna take it or do you want me to take it? Actually, you know what? My girlfriend, here, can take it...Babe?" He gestured for her to come closer, "do you mind?" handing her the girls' phones.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and whispering in her ear as they walked away, waving the girls goodbye and wishing them a safe trip.

"I never said it would be bad! I was-"

"Just trying to take care of me, I know." He kissed her cheek. "But I'm okay. Really. Cuz I've got you."

***

The flight seemed off to a good start, with her and the guys taking turns at sitting with, and distracting, Matty from his thought spiral. Take off was a bit rough for a moment; he visibly broke a sweat and almost crushed her hand in his while the plane settled into altitude. She quickly brought him back the a calm enough state after that, though. They argued over which film to watch, eventually agreed to each watch their own choice, before Matty petulantly abandoned his screen and begged to watch whatever she was watching instead. This, of course, meant that she had to pause and explain the plot to him, bring him up to speed. She pretended to be annoyed with him, but secretly, she was glad for it because, the more that she actively participated in distracting him, the less likely it was that he'd let his mind wander and start overthinking.

Her plan seemed to be working, until it wasn't. 7 hours into the flight, Matty's senses were overwhelmed. He could no longer block the anxious thoughts away by steering his attention towards her, his friends, or whatever forms of entertainment were available to him. He even got out his laptop, tried to do some work to keep his mind occupied, but as time went on, his anxiety sucked more and more of his energy, until his will inevitably weakened, and he succumbed to the catastrophic thinking...

His eardrums pounded with the sound of his own heartbeat, the sounds of his surroundings being reduced to a faint, persistent whisper. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs, panting and sweating as his eyes scanned the tight quarters. The voice inside his head screamed for him to leave the airplane, but he was aware enough to know that it was physically impossible to escape. Both sides of his brain locked in an impossible battle, the result was a near-complete paralysis. He lost the feeling in his limbs, his vision going blurry. Even breathing became a consuming conscious task. He felt like he was drowning underwater.

"M-matty? my love, what's the matter?" She was immediately alarmed when she'd glanced away from her book to check in with him. "You look like you're gonna be sick...Do you need me to call for someone?"

With great effort, Matty shook his head, looking helplessly at her.

"Talk to me, honey..."

"P-panic attack." he stuttered, short-winded and struggling to breathe.

The words brought instant tears to her eyes, and for a moment, she was overwhelmed by how quickly his pain had crushed her heart, but she wasn't about to make this about herself.

Delicately, she reached around his neck, loosing his tie. "I'm gonna take this off, okay?" explaining each of her movements as she did them so as not to startle him with anything unexpected. Matty's scattered brain was, of course, much too overwhelmed to process anything that she was saying to him, but the softness of her tone somehow made him nod anyway. She stood up, looking a few rows behind her, for George. They'd made an agreement that she would signal to him if she needed his help. Unfortunately, though, George was sound asleep, from what she could tell.

Shifting her attention back to Matty. "I'm gonna undress you, okay?"

She unbuttoned his button-down. "Honey, are you with me? need you to take off your undershirt, okay? it's much too tight."

When he made no effort to follow her instructions, she reached over and took it off for him. “Okay, I’ve got a better shirt for you in my bag. I just need to get it from the overhead bin, alright? I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Matty might as well have been asleep; he made no movement or attempt to acknowledge her, which broke her heart to a million pieces. 

She hurried over to George’s seat kicking it roughly to wake him up. 

“He needs you.” She simply stated as soon as she saw George’s eyes flutter open. 

George cleared his throat several times. “R-right. I’m up; I’m up. I promise.” He stood up, peaking ahead of him to wear Matty was seated. “He’s…naked?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, I’m getting him clothes. But I need you, you gentle giant. Help me get my bag before you sit with him? Just need to get his stuff…”

George sprung into action, following her commands swiftly while she went through her bag to find a 1975 crew neck that was two sizes too big on Matty, and a pair of his joggers. She’d packed them when he insisted on wearing his shirt and tie to the airport, hoping she’d use them under happier circumstances, but right now, she was just glad she’d thought ahead. She went over to the flight attendant and grabbed him some water to go along with the sleeping pills. 

By the time that she’d made it back to their seats George, had somehow talked Matty into reclining his seat, closing his eyes, and apparently leant  him some headphones. “What- how-“

George, ever the wizard, just shrugged. “It’s all I could think of, alright?”

She broke into a smile, kissing her friend’s balding head. “You’re an Angel, George.”

“Hmm.” George hummed, smirking. “Listen, I’ll go get a coffee to wake myself up. Give me a shout if you need me, yeah?”

***

Matty got through the reminder of the flight relatively alright. While he didn't manage to fall asleep, despite the sleeping pills she'd given him, nor did he manage to eat any real meals, the first class reclining chairs were comfortable enough for him to close his eyes and focus on an audio book for a couple of hours, and he did nibble on a piece of buttered toast while wrapped himself up in the blanket she'd bought him and shuffling through her especially curated playlist. The anxiety never completely left him, but he was happy to endure a lower-level persistent anxiousness instead of the sudden panic attack that had gripped him earlier.

At long last, they'd touched down and began their journey out of the airport. Matty always wondered if the arrivals terminal is universally more difficult to get through, or if his impatience to finally be done with the travel part always made it seem so, regardless of where in the world he'd found himself.

At baggage claim, the stress of the journey seemed to catch up to him. He wrapped his armed around her waist, burying his face into the side of her neck and breathing in her scent. Just when he'd closed his eyes, hoping to catch a breath while they waited for the couple of items that they could neither ship ahead of time, nor bring in their carry-ons, to appear on the carousel, he became aware of a couple of people catching on to his presence.

"No, Matty, please." her hand grabbed onto his arm around her waist when she felt him slip away from her, getting ready to greet the fans.

"It's fine, Darlin'" his voice was heavy with sleep, as were his eyes.

She sighed, this time, she couldn't be supportive of his decision. As she spotted his guitar and got ready to retrieve it, she overheard him apologize to a few people for "looking sweaty" and mumbling something about jet lag. Ross stepped in to help her with the bag, listening silently and nodding in agreement as she whispered her complaints about Matty's lack of boundaries. If she'd let him get a word in edgewise, he'd have said "you should've seen him when our career first started, he was acting like he was every fan's best mate." George joined Matty for a moment, saying a quick hello to everyone before politely excusing himself and pulling his friend away. "We've gotta go, Matty, c'mon."

Though George had succeeded in extracting Matty away, his victory was short-lived. At the airport gates, the guys were surprised to find a group of more than just a handful of fans waiting for them. Phone cameras flashed as soon as the gates opened, the crowd calling out and vying for the band's attention.

Adam was the first to jump into their designated car as it pulled up by the side of the building. Ross and George followed shortly behind him. Matty, on the other hand, was quickly separated from them when he paused momentarily, slightly thrown off, by the presence of people on both sides of the gates.

She rushed over to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the car. For a moment, Matty let her lead the way, trailing behind her with a hand on her hip to keep from losing her. He kept his head down, but closer he got to the crowd, the louder they were, and the faster his heart beat. His palms were beginning to sweat and breathing was getting difficult again. A voice in the back of his head told him to stop, to take a look around and stop staring at his feet, and when he did, he saw the faces of the people looking at him and he couldn't help it. He let go of her hand, walking over to one group, while the other screamed out his name.

She attempted to call out his name, but her voice was drowned out by the phones beeping, cameras flashing, and excited chatter. She stood there, astounded as he smiled and hugged a few people, apologizing that he couldn't sign someone's phone case because he didn't have a pen on him.

He turned around to the second group, "I promise, I'll get to all of you if we don't cause too much trouble and security doesn't get involved. could we...maybe just move away from the gates?"

She sighed, exasperated by the lengths he was going to. He was practically behaving like a event organizer, ushering people away from the rest of the public.

As well intentioned as his plan was, it did not work out quite as he’d imagined. the moment that he moved people away from the airport gates, everyone naturally formed a circle around him, a few people elbowing their way to the front. He was trapped.

Matty froze in place, fighting to keep his expression straight and suppress the fight or flight response that had kicked in. What had he done? The illusion that he had any control at all over the situation was quickly blown away. She could see his hands shaking by the sides of his body as he struggled to regulate his breathing. She couldn’t take it anymore.

She squeezed her way past an appreciable number of people, trying to get to Matty. “Excuse me, yeah, could I just- get through. Thanks.” She grabbed his hand. “Hey, you,” and leaned into his ear “Matty, whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not smart. Let’s leave.”

“Just a second. Almost done.” He whispered, fully aware that there was no way people weren’t listening to their conversation.

“You’re not feeling well, let’s get in the car, please?”

“A few more people-“ she pulled him by the arm dragging him away from people and towards the car. Matty waved apologetically at groaning people who were mumbling how unfair this was, dipping his head low and rushing to keep up with  her. 

The chatter between the guys in the car fell silent as she and Matty climbed in. They settled into the backseat with Matty instantly clinging to her and resting his head on her chest as the car drove away. Her hands reflexively found his hair, running her fingers through it and kissing his forehead.

“Baby? Could I just say something?” Matty spoke, finally breaking the dead silence, once they’d made it onto the highway. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” She said firmly.

Ross and Adam exchanged a look of surprise. Clearly impressed with, and in support of, her new tone.

Matty lifted his head halfway off of her looking up at her. “But I’d just like to explain-“

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Can we not talk about it right now?”

He replaced his head back on her body, her hands resuming their soothing motions through his hair. “Can tell you’re angry.” He mumbled. 

“No shit! Of course I’m angry.” He heard her heartbeat rise as she spoke. Her hands still comforting him though her tone was definitely sharp. 

“I just wanna-“

“I said I don’t want to have this conversation right now, and yet, you keep fuckin’ pushing. Look, I know you love your fans. You’re grateful. And, honestly, it is one of the greatest joys of my life watching you interact with them. The knowledge that you can be so tender and compassionate- not just with me me, not with your family, the boys, your friends- but with complete strangers as well…that’s what makes you a man in my eyes. So, trust me, Matty, I don’t say this lightly, but you have absolutely no boundaries. You’re a pushover!”

Matty was quiet for a moment, taking in the gravity of her words. “Okay, I can see why you’d think that.” he opened his eyes, looking up her through his hair. “But could I just explain my side of things?”

“There is no ‘your side’! You are mentally and physically exhausted. Matty- you were literally shaking. And, this wasn’t a professional event! This wasn’t a signing or a meet-and-greet!”

“That’s exactly why l-“

“My point is, it wasn’t safe! What if someone’d gotten hurt? What if you’d gotten hurt? There was no security to control the situation. Nobody to help or be held accountable! There’s a reason everyone else was sitting in this car, and not out there with you.”

“I get it.” Matty conceded.

“We were all bending over backwards to make sure you’re okay, then you go and willingly put yourself in a stressful situation that would trigger you. I mean,” she shook her head, speechless. 

“I just- I’m sorry.”

“I know. Let’s just not talk about it anymore. Alright?”

Matty’s arms squeezed around her waist as he nuzzled his face deeper into her chest, kissing her skin in a silent apology.

The car fell into another silent lull, until, several minutes later, George peaked his head from the passengers seat and told her and Matty not to check Twitter. 

“Oh, god. What’d you have to say that for? You know Matty’s gonna wanna see it now!” Adam groaned, chastising George. 

“What?” George shrugged. “I said ‘whatever you do, don’t check Twitter,’ I didn’t say to hurry up and check it.”

“I’ve literally been biting my tongue this whole ride.”

Matty, who’d been  half asleep in her arms, pulled out his phone, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light of the screen. 

Just as he’d suspected, photos of him being dragged away from adoring fans were already circulating the internet. All captioned with dramatic out of context narratives. 

“Matty Healy and gf argue in the middle of airport parking lot”

“1975 front man  physically dragged away from fans by possessive gf.”

Comments embellished the description using every colorful name in the book. From “jealous” and “immature” to “frigid witch.”

Matty set his phone down, neither one of them said anything. They spent the remainder of their ride to the hotel in silence. 

***

“How’re you feeling?” She emerged out of the bathroom, walking over to Matty’s slumped over figure on the bed. 

“I’m sleepy, and hungry, and tired, and I smell like airplane.” He mumbled. “I’m also sad.”

“Why’re you sad?” She bent down to kiss his nose. 

“Cuz you’re mad at me. You don’t seem to understand- the fans…they’re like the most important thing. Unless I’m physically tied down, I will always go out there and meet them. Never gonna be dismissive. Never gonna make them feel like they don’t matter to me.” Matty sat up in bed, taking her hands in his, and pulling her closer to him. “You can’t put out the kind of music that I put out, and then pretend not to want anything to do with the people who listen to it.” She nodded, attempting to signal that she was on his side. “There are ways of saying ‘sorry, not today guys.’ Without being dismissive or rude.”

“I hope you know, that’s never gonna be me. I’d never say that to them. It’s just not who I am.”

“I know. I don’t expect you to suddenly change. I just hope you don’t expect me to either. Cuz I’m still gonna worry about you and try to protect you when you’re in over your head.”

Matty smiled at her with droopy eyes. “Deal.” He kissed her lips. 

“Sorry they’re saying mean shit online.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted to be a witch since I was a little girl!” She giggled. “Now, c’mon. I ran us a bath.”

“Wait…us? Like you AND me?”

***

“You had a really rough day today, huh?” She whispered as she snuggled into him, getting comfortable in their hotel bed. 

Matty turned on his side to face her, the smell of her freshly washed hair calming his mind. “Couldn’t have gotten through it without you.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby.”

“Could we just…stay here, in this bed, for ever. Just you and me. Where it’s safe, soft, quiet.”

“Sounds like a great idea. Yeah, let’s do that.”

[skylarsin7]

Chapter 3: The House on Lover's Lake

The five companions piled into what Lily assumed was Steve’s car, because he was driving. “Hey Aez, I mean, Lily, sorry I didn’t get a chance to do this earlier, but you know Max, this is Robin, and well, Steve.” Dustin introduced each one in turn. Lily greeted them with a smile, and a glimmer of interest in Steve’s eyes had her turning her gaze quickly. “Everyone, this is Lily. She is in Hellfire with me and Eddie.” Dustin went on. Everyone greeted her kindly, and Lily managed to relax a fraction. They would find Eddie soon. “Lily, where are you from?” Robin asked, turning from her spot in the front seat. “Philly.” She answered automatically. It was one of her least favorite subjects. “Nice, bet Hawkins feels like the boonies to you then.” Lily shrugged. “I like it here. I’ve always hated the big city.” She admitted. Steve’s eyes met hers in the rearview, none of that playful spark in his dark gaze. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, though.” He said. She nodded. She had done enough research on this town where Eddie lived to know that there had been plenty of mysterious and gruesome deaths reported over the last few years. Their names flew by in her mind, and she shivered. “Is it true that this town is…cursed?” She asked carefully, not meeting anyone’s eyes right away. “In a way…you could say that…” Dustin replied. She glanced up at him, confusion wrinkling her brow.  

“It’s not a curse, per se. There is a world…under Hawkins. Like a…mirror dimension, if you will. We call it the Upside Down. And sometimes, it bleeds into our world.” Lily nodded. “The Rightside Up.” She offered. Dustin stopped for a moment then smiled. “That’s brilliant. Yeah, the Rightside Up.” His smile only lasted a moment. “Well, when the Upside-Down bleeds into the Rightside Up through portals we call Gates, monsters and other nasties tend to come with it. We thought we had closed off all the gates, but…there is a chance that whatever nasties are crawling down there, are crawling up here too.”  

His words chilled her to the bone. “So, something nasty from the Upside Down may have killed Chrissy.” She said. Dustin nodded. “That's the working theory.” He replied. “Only way to find out what happened is to ask Eddie himself. That’s why we are going to find him.” Max added. Lily smiled. “I don’t know if you know this, but I was the one that almost hit you today. By the park. I’m sorry.” Max eyed her. “Well, you didn’t, so no big deal. Fast reflexes you have there. Any slower of a reaction time and I would have been roadkill.” She said with a chuckle. Yep, Lily could tell that Dustin was one hundred percent correct in saying that she had a sharp tongue. She couldn’t quite place it, but she felt a kind of kinship with the redhead. Lily suspected that they would be good friends. 

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, but it was not an uncomfortable one. The sun sank gradually into the horizon and finally, Steve pulled off onto a dusty side road. Lily’s heart leapt. They were nearly at their destination. “There it is. Lover’s Lake.” Dustin announced, pointing. Lily craned to see out the window. The lake was huge, bigger than she had anticipated. Massive houses dotted the shoreline all around, their lights flickering and reflecting like little lanterns off the water. One house was dark though as they approached. Lily assumed that this was the infamous Reefer Rick’s. “I do hope he is not home.” Lily commented. "Last I heard, he was in jail." Max replied. Steve parked, switching off the headlights. Dustin rummaged around the backpack he wore and handed out several flashlights. Lily was impressed. “Do you keep the kitchen sink in there too?” She asked. He grinned at her. “And extra batteries.” He returned her joke earnestly. Lily couldn’t help but laugh in response. Dustin was fun to have around. 

They approached the house, Dustin wasting no time in banging on the door, calling for Eddie. Obnoxiously, he hit the doorbell several times, but there was no answer. Steve sighed heavily. "Okay, that's settled. I guess he's not here." Robin shone her flashlight through the windows, peering inside. Lily was right behind her. The place looked like it hadn't been lived in for months, trash strewn over every surface. Dustin continued to yell through the door, trying in vain to coax Eddie out, but the house seemed deserted. Max skirted the side of the house, shining her flashlight through the yard. She lifted the beam, and it fell on a boat shed just on the shore of the lake. "Hey, guys!?" She called. The others joined her, heading for the pool of light a single industrial lamp made from above the shed door. 

Cautiously, they approached the shed, Robin in the lead. She opened the door slowly, leaning around it as if using it as a shield. Lily couldn't shake the feeling of dread that was coiling in her belly. "Hello?" Robin called, stepping inside. "Anyone home?" She added sarcastically. The others followed with equal caution, Lily bringing up the rear. Her heart was hammering so fast it was nearly in her throat, cutting off her air. "What a dump." Steve complained, his tone bored. Lily cast him a glance, shaking her head slightly. She was still on the fence about him. But glancing around, she had to admit that he wasn't wrong. This place was a dump. There was fishing equipment and netting everywhere. The whole place reeked of rancid oil and brackish water. It wasn’t exactly where she would choose, as there were very limited places to hide. Steve found an oar, pulling it off the wall. Turning, he began poking at the tarp that was thrown over the fishing boat moored there. 

"What are you doing?" Dustin asked hurriedly. He repeated himself when Steve didn't answer. "He might be in here." The older boy said, not taking his eyes off the tarp. "So take the tarp off." Dustin said, shaking his head. "If you're so brave, you take the tarp off." Steve countered. Dustin sighed in exasperation, but didn’t comment further. 

"Hey, look over here." Max called, shining her flashlight on a work table, where several wrappers were strewn. Recently too. "Someone was here." She said. Robin joined her at the table. "Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran." She replied. "Don't worry, Steve will get him with his oar." Dustin said sarcastically. It was Steve’s turn to be exasperated. "I know you think you’re being funny Henderson, but considering that almost everyone in this room has almost died a hundred times, personally I don't find it funny in the slight--"

It all happened in less than a second. The tarp flew off and a dark form leapt over the side of the boat, pinning Steve to the wall. A broken beer bottle was at the boy’s throat the next instant. "WAIT, EDDIE, STOP!!!" Dustin cried. Eddie glanced at him, his eyes dark and glittering wildly. His hair was even more unkempt than his picture at the high school and Lily’s couldn’t help but grimace. "It's me. It's Dustin. This is Steve. He's not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?" Dustin spoke quickly, and the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. Eddie didn't move. His eyes fixed on Steve once more, and Lily could see every line of his body was rigid. He must be terrified. Her heart squeezed at the thought and she had to fight the urge to fly to him and wrap him in her arms. "Right, yeah." Steve managed, swallowing hard as the glass pressed against his throat. "Steve, why don't you drop the oar?" Dustin suggested. Steve nodded and let it go, wincing as it clattered to the floor. Still Eddie did not relent. His stance displayed quite plainly that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone if it meant defending himself. Lily's heart dropped into her slippers. Had he actually hurt Chrissy? She shook her head, kicking herself for even thinking it. That wasn't in Eddie’s nature. 

"What are you doing here?" Eddie asked gruffly, pressing the glass closer. Steve gulped, holding his hands up in surrender. "We're looking for you." Dustin replied. "We're here to help." Robin added. "Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band." Robin made a sound that imitated a trumpet. "And my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D." Max waved weakly. Lily wondered if that was the best thing to tell him about her. "Eddie, we're on your side." He insisted. Eddie still refused to relent. "I swear on my mother! Right, guys!" Dustin sounded almost desperate. There was a murmur of agreements. "Yeah, on Dustin's mother." Steve's voice cracked as he said it. Eddie's attention did not waver from the boy he held captive. Lily’s mind raced. She had to help distract him, get him to think outside the fight or flight mode he was clearly trapped in. She had to act before Steve or anyone else got hurt. She stepped out from around Robin, gathering her courage as she went.  

“Renich i lú i erui govannem?” Her voice was trembling softly as she spoke, the elegant Elvish words simply rolling off her tongue as if she had spoken them her entire life. Steve swallowed hard. Eddie hadn't seemed to hear her. She repeated the statement, a little louder this time, stepping to the front of the group. He turned, eyes finding hers, wide and fathomless in the darkness. Their gazes locked and the entire world ground to a screeching halt. 

She had read once that when you met the love of your life, time stood still. That for a moment, you are the only two that exist. Her world zeroed in on those depthless chocolate eyes, so deep and rich she could easily drown in them. Her heart tugged, and she desperately wanted to be near him, to reach out and soothe the feral panic in his gaze.

“Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen.” He replied, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “Gwenwin in enninath...Ú-'arnech in naeth i si celich.” She continued, stepping closer. “Renech I Beth I pennen?” Dustin and Robin glanced back and forth between them, as if watching a tennis match. “What are they saying?” Robin asked quietly. Dustin shrugged, his jaw hanging slack as he watched them. “It’s Elvish, I think…” He murmured. “You said you'd bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people..” Eddie said, this time, in english. “And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone..” Lily replied, the corners of her lips lifting in a soft smile.

  "Aez, my god, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked breathlessly, slowly relaxing and lowering the broken bottle. His eyes were still wild, as if he still didn't quite believe what he was seeing. Couldn’t believe she was real. Lily’s smile faded a little as her fears of the last twenty-four hours reared their head. "The scream…the snapping… I thought something had happened to you…I was terrified that I would arrive here and...” She bit her lip, her voice breaking as she trailed off. Eddie glanced away, swallowing hard. “You shouldn’t be here. It's dangerous. But still…I’m glad you came…” His tone was bland, but she could see the emotion he struggled to hold at bay. “I’m glad I am here. I know you didn’t do this horrible thing they are accusing you of. I heard everything on Frequency.” Eddie's eyes found hers once more, wide like a rabbit caught in a trap. He seemed to finally understand what her words meant. "You were listening?” He asked, his voice gruff and strained. Lily looked away, nodding. “Yes. I was waiting for you to come back after Hellfire Club. I wasn't anticipating that you wouldn’t be alone.” She replied, a little defensively. She couldn’t keep the jealousy from her voice, but she fought it down as it rose like acid bile in her throat. 

Eddie seemed to catch on to the razor's edge in her voice. "She was going to buy drugs off me, that's all…and now…" He sniffed, swiping his jacket sleeve across his eyes. Lily's jealousy for the cheer captain burned hotter, but she forced it to the back of her mind. He didn’t need her jealousy and hurt right now, he needed her support. "What happened, exactly?" Robin asked, commanding the duo's attention. Eddie's eyes snapped to her’s, immediately glassing over with tears. "You won't believe me." He told them with despair, wrapping his wiry arms tightly around himself. 

This gesture of complete emotional shutdown was too much to bear. Without another word, Lily crossed the shed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, rubbing a slow circle with her thumb. Eddie gripped her hand tightly as if it were a lifeline. His touch sent waves of tingles shooting up her arm but she managed to suppress the resulting shudder. “Try us.” Max said quietly, coaxingly. After a few quivering breaths, he spoke. His voice was hollow and expressionless.

"Her body lifted up into the air…and she just kind of hovered there. In the air. Her bones…" He whimpered, and Lily knew he was reliving it all over again. She tightened her grip on his shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. "Her bones started to snap, and her eyes…it was as if something was inside her skull…pulling…" He drew in another shuddering breath and Lily stepped closer to him. 

To her surprise, he leaned against her as if her presence somehow gave him strength. "I didn't know what to do so… I ran away. I just ran and I left her there…" His words were dark with self-loathing as he trailed off, dipping his head. Silver tears caught the light as they fell. With her free hand, Lily stroked her fingers through his hair, both satisfying her curiosity and marveling at how coarse but soft it was at the same time. She could feel him relaxing against her by increments with every stroke. “There was nothing you could do for her at that point.” She reminded him gently.

It was a few moments before he spoke again. "You all think I’m crazy, right…?” He murmured darkly. “No.” Dustin replied, his voice flat and dead serious. Eddie's head snapped up and he leveled the boy with a searing glare.  "Don't bullshit me man, I know how this sounds!" He insisted, his voice climbing a little. "That's why we are here. We do believe you. We know there is no way that you could have, or would have, done this." Lily countered.

"Listen, what I am about to tell you might be a little…difficult to take." Dustin spoke slowly, as he had done with Lily in the car. She tightened her grip on his shoulder in preparation for his reaction. "Okay." His body shook, but Eddie nodded for Dustin to continue. "You know how they say that Hawkins is…cursed? Well, they aren't that far off." Eddie tensed against her, and Lily squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.  “What do you mean?” Eddie asked quietly. "There is another world beneath ours and sometimes they… overlap." Eddie closed his eyes, his brow wrinkling as if he struggled to understand. "Like ghosts and shit?" He asked slowly, cautiously. "There are some things worse than ghosts." Max said, her eyes meeting his. Lily could see that she struggled with demons of her own. They danced and swirled in her pale blue eyes. Lily wished she had a gesture of comfort to offer her. 

"These monsters from this other world…we thought they were gone. But they've managed to come back before. That's why we needed to find you." Dustin explained. “If they're back again, we need to know." Max said. "That night, did you see anything?" Robin asked. "Dark particles, maybe?" Max added. Eddie shook his head. "It would almost look like dust…swirling dust." Dustin explained. Eddie shook his head again. "No man, there was nothing you could see or…touch." He said, his voice far away. "I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she…she was in some kind of trance or something." Eddie shuddered and Lily squeezed his shoulder again. 

  "Or under a spell." Dustin offered. "A curse." Eddie agreed. "Vecna's curse." Dustin clarified. As he said the words, Lily shuddered. "Who's Vecna?" Steve asked. Lily had almost forgotten he was there. "An undead creature of…great power." Dustin explained without turning. "A spell caster." Eddie added. "A dark wizard." Lily whispered. An eerie silence fell over the group.  

"So what do we do?" Steve asked. "First things first, we need to get Eddie some food. Looks like he hasn't had anything but junk for at least twenty-four hours. And he is gonna need some decent hydration." Lily spoke with authority, wondering briefly where her confidence came from. Eddie offered her a small smile. "Okay, supplies." Dustin agreed. "I think I'm gonna stay out here." Eddie said as he shivered, still gripping Lily's hand tightly. "That would be smart. That way if anyone figures it out like we did and comes looking, you have a quick mode of escape." Robin nodded to the boat. "I'm gonna stay here with Eddie." Lily announced. The entire group stared at her. "You don't have to do that. Crash with one of them, it'll be more comfortable." Eddie insisted. Lily shook her head. "I kinda…can't. I stole my mother's car to get here. And…possibly her entire wallet. And …I may also have broken into Hawkins High." She said sheepishly. Eddie couldn't suppress his smile or hide the fact that he was impressed. "I do believe I am a terrible influence on you, Aeza." Lily returned his smile, her cheeks flushing scarlet. 

"Well, I hate to break up this lovely scene, but it is almost ten o'clock." Steve pointed out. "And you two…" He gestured to Dustin and Max. "Are still minors. So let's go." He turned for the door.  

The others filed after him without argument, closing the door as they went. As it latched into place, Lily felt all the energy just leech out of her and her knees gave way beneath her. Eddie barely caught her as she collapsed. "Lily, are you alright?" He asked, clasping her to his chest and eyeing her up and down. She managed a nod. "I thought I was going to make it here and you'd be dead…" She whispered, her voice breaking, tears welling in her eyes as she finally admitted her fears out loud. Eddie pressed her hands to his chest, over his heart, his own hand dwarfing both of hers as it curled around them. "I'm here. I'm alive." He reassured her. She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm tightly around her. His pulse beat against her ear, a symphony of his vitality a balm to her frazzled nerves. He smelled faintly of  laundry soap, cigarettes and sweat, a tiny twinge of pot clinging to his clothes. But underneath that, the rich scents of cedar and sandalwood. "I'm so glad we found you." She murmured. He nodded. "I am too. And I'm glad you're here, Lil." She sighed. "You can call me Lily around the others if you want. They already know my name." She told him. He hesitated, but nodded. 

  Lily yawned, her eyes drooping. "You drove all the way here from Philly? That must have taken you all night." He said, rubbing her arm. She nodded. "And half the morning." She agreed. "You must be exhausted. Come on, let's get you comfortable." He rose, helping her stand with him. "I'll run inside and get some blankets." He told her. She nodded, swaying a little on her feet. He held her steady for a moment, then released her slowly, as if he was afraid she would topple over. "I'll be right back." He assured her before easing through the door and bounding for the house. Lily leaned heavily on the wall, shaking her head to keep from passing out right there. The absence of the adrenaline that had fueled her until this point was taking its toll, leaving her feeling weak and hollow. Eddie was back a few moments later, empty handed. "It's locked." He announced. Lily nodded. "Help me. I can pick the lock." She told him, reaching into her bag and pulling out her picking tools. He grinned at her. "Grand Theft Auto, theft of a wallet, and now breaking and entering? There is some devil in those angel eyes of yours." He teased. She managed a small laugh. His smile was infectious. 

He helped her to the house, offering support as she struggled to stay upright. He could have easily scooped her up and carried her, but knew from their many conversations that she was a very independent girl and would likely protest that kind of assistance. She knelt down before the door, taking out a tiny flashlight from her kit, and her tools. "Hold this." She requested, handing him the pen light. He obliged, watching her deftly swirl her lock pick as she carefully depressed each tumbler. In less than a minute, she had the door creaking open. Eddie was impressed. "You're really very good with those." He commented as he handed her back the flashlight. She shrugged. "I hate to admit that I've had quite a bit of practice. I used to sneak into my stepfather's study and change little words in his sermon notes. Since I was forced to go to church every Sunday, I figured I should at least have a little entertainment." Eddie let out a full belly laugh, the sound washing over Lily like a summer wave, flooding her with warmth. She smiled. He had a wonderful laugh. "That is brilliant! Oh I would have loved to hear him stumble over your improvements." He shook with his laughter and Lily couldn't help but join him. "It was the best part of Sunday mornings. Made it almost worth it to go." 

He helped her stand, and she had to lean on him to keep from collapsing. "I'm sorry, I'm so useless when I'm tired." She said quietly. "Nonsense. You've had a long journey, a long day, and have been through a lot. I can help hold you up. It's the very least I can do since you did come to rescue me." He replied. There was an affection in his voice she didn't dare acknowledge. "Thank you." She managed. 

Eddie would never have admitted out loud that having Lily tucked against his side made his heart pound like a demented war drum. He would have chocked it up to the fact that she drove over 700 miles in nearly a single night to come rescue him, and not a growing warmth that bubbled up in his chest. He was impressed by her skills with a lockpick, and wondered briefly who taught her. He would have loved to shake their hand. But now was not the time to ask. She leaned heavily on his arm and he felt a twinge of guilt marring the fluttery feelings in his belly. She was exhausted, and the boat shed was not a very comfortable abode for her to rest in. He berated himself for not insisting that she go back to one of the other’s houses to sleep. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his heart beat frantically against it. In truth, regardless of what would be best for her, he found he didn’t want her to leave. Didn’t want to be away from her smile, her quiet strength and compassion. He tightened his grip on her slightly. 

He set her down on the couch, sweeping the worst of the debris off of it before stepping down the hall to the linen closet. Lily stiffened her back to keep from dozing off, but was rapidly losing the fight. By the time Eddie returned with two blankets and pillows, she was sound asleep where he had left her. He couldn’t help but smile. She was far more beautiful than he had imagined. Her pale face was heart shaped, with gently ridged cheekbones and a tiny nose. Her eyes were elegantly curved, as if she wore eyeliner, though she had none. Her long lashes fanned over her cheeks like wine-colored lace as she slept. A single curl fell across her face, and he longed to brush it back, but was afraid of waking her. He imagined that those cabernet curls were as soft as they looked despite their windblown appearance. Her features had softened in her slumber, the lines of her face vanishing along with her waking worries. He could only imagine her terror by the gauge of his own. The last twenty-four plus hours had been a nightmare for the both of them. He left her where she slept and returned to the boat shed. He situated the boat with a pillow and blanket, spreading out the thick cushions from the lawn chairs in the corner. He left his own pillow and blanket out for his own shakedown on the floor. 

He returned to the house, gently scooping Lily into his arms and cradling her against his chest. She stirred only briefly before her head slumped against him and she let out the tiniest snore. His heart thumped heavily, but he couldn’t help his smile. Her feet dangled like a dancer’s, her little red dragon slippers both adorable and endearing. It felt good to cradle her close, her head against his chest was a welcome pressure. Her scent was a sweet mix of honey and jasmine, and he took a deep breath of her as he straightened. She weighed precious little and he carried her with ease into the shed. He set her down into the boat, pulled off her slippers, and covered her with the blanket. He was about to turn away when she startled him, gripping his wrist. "Don't go…" She murmured, squinting up at him. He smiled. "I'll be right here Lil. Don't worry." He kept his voice soft, but she refused to let him go. Her huge hazel eyes swirled with a maelstrom of emotions, too many to discern one from another. "Stay with me…please?" 

Perhaps it was the 'please' or how innocent she looked, but he only hesitated another second before he nodded and climbed into the boat beside her. He situated his pillows so that there would be some space between them and laid down. She sighed as he lay beside her, on his back, his shoulder barely brushing her spine. Even that small contact had his warmth seeping into her and she was asleep in seconds.

[writefightandflightclub]

Clean-up in Aisle 4 (Will Miller x GN reader blurb)

Summary: a grocery store meet-cute with Will. Little bit of fluff, mainly angsty.

Author’s note: First time writing Will. Super quick one but hope you like it. Helps a lot if you know Will’s canon from the movie. You can read-up here if you wanna. Told you I was in Triple Frontier feels tonight!

Warnings: vague but thematic mentions of prior trauma related to military service and PTSD / anxiety themes, though nothing in-depth / graphic. Swearing. 

GIF: @will-grammer

The first thing you noticed about the man was the broadness of him. Wide shoulders, leading down to a nipped-in waist. You weren’t ogling. Really. It was simply hard to miss, since you nearly drove your cart into his back, the brick wall of a man coming to a sudden, dead halt in front of you as you each approached the grocery store.

The second thing you noticed, as you huffed out air and scooted your cart around him, was the way his hands white-knuckled as they wrapped -achingly tight- around the handle of his own cart, the tension extending into his forearms and along the veins of his straining biceps.

The third thing, causing you to fully abandon your intended pursuit of a passive aggressive side-eyeing, was his ashen expression; the way his gaze fixed unerringly on the sliding, automatic doors as though they were the gates to hell and he was deathly afraid to enter. You saw then that the tension extended all then way through the chords of his neck, into his chiselled jaw, which was covered in a scruff of blond beard.

You’d seen that look before. Seen it on others in the field; and out of it. Had seen it plenty when you looked in the mirror too. It looked like trauma, raw and exposed and bile-inducing, and the recognition had the words rising out of your throat before you could stop them.

“Hey, are you okay?” you had asked casually, in a cooling voice as you lined your cart up side-by-side with his.

It was reflex by now. You had seen too many comrades freeze in the face of danger - and in your experience, freezing near-always led to sub-optimal outcomes. Perhaps that’s why you felt a personal responsibilty to shock him back to life. He seemed stuck. He seemed like he needed a push, like that damn cart.

The man’s eyes - hazel centred and fringed with a piercing yet muted blue - flicked fiercely towards you, and the hint of volatility made you very suddenly take note of his size and latent strength, your body’s fight or flight response firing as he appeared to take a little unkindly to the interruption.

Of course, you stood your ground. You always do. It’s a bad habit of yours.

His eyes softened, however, just a little, as he clocked gentle concern rather than confrontation in your own, and he self-consciously shuffled from foot to foot, his heavy combat boots seeking surer-footing on the paving; quite literally grounding himself.

Oh, he’s definitely military this one. You recognised that too in the way he moved. In the habits ingrained in his body.

Still, you saw the rush of panic fleeting across his eyes as he ignored you and fixed his stare back on the threshold of the store. It might have looked like nothing -a simple line to cross- but you knew all too well how the smallest of lines could be something much bigger; a marker, a milestone, a hurdle.

It seemed hard for him. And if it seemed hard, and he was still here, trying, then you were damn sure it seemed important too.

You had noticed the ticks in his body then too. He tapped his boot and his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was counting. Counting-up or counting down to something, you were not sure.

“Afraid to go in?” you had asked him gently, devoid of any mocking.

“I had a bad experience here...” he had told you, his voice a deep, drawling, painfully empty baritone.

He told you this much, though he was not sure why or how he even began to speak. Why or how he looked at you. He was not sure either, why he was unable to continue speaking.

He was a speaker by profession, wasn’t he? He had repeated his story often enough as part of his motivational speeches, and yet, the words died in his throat now.

Cart. Blacked-out. Choked. Almost... 

His hands tightened their grip on the cart, just like they had tightened...

“Hmm,” you acknowledged, chewing on your lip as you digested the new information.

“Well. Me too,” you admitted, as his eyes segued back to those double doors, bumping open and closed as his proximity continually reactivated the sensors. “It was bad. My shorts had split clean in half right down the ass-crack and no-one thought to tell me. Some of the clerks still call me Cheeky to this day.”

The incident you spoke of was painfully true, and at least mildly cheering, you thought, but the man barely registered it. At least, not initially. He took a moment, still staring, still counting, but then he looked at you with a reluctant and pained amusement that evidently took him by surprise.

Now, he saw you. His eyes gave you the once over.

You were not what he was expecting. That story wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t expecting...

“Wait, what?”

Letting your mouth draw open into a smile, effortlessly holding his attention now, you had pressed on with your distraction.

“Split right up the ass-crack. Mortifying. So... I could use the company, if you’ll brave it with me?” You had nodded your head towards the double doors, and you had shifted your cart to casually bump his. “We could go together?”

The man had simply stared at you, and you had patiently waited for his response. The muscles in his jaw had twitched, tendons slipping over bone. He was frozen still; that is, until you had politely nodded and started to move away from him, with a sincere, “Take care of yourself, man.”

“Hey, wait up,” he had called as you moved ahead of him, and you threw your head over your shoulder to humourously inspect the seat of your pants.

“Shit, why, is my ass out again?” you had laughed, and Will tentatively laughed with you, following you into the store; crossing his personal boundary.

It was hard, and it was important.

You had waited for him to catch-up with a soft smile, proud of the man although you did not know him yet, and this time he had drawn his cart to a halt alongside yours.

“Your ass is not out,” he had promised. “Shit. Not that I was looking. I just, uh. Shit. I could actually use the company?”

“Sure,” you had nodded, without judgement, and you had stayed closely by his side on your usual, winding route around the store.

You had tried your best to cheer him and distract this stranger, and even earned a few smiles as you engaged him in meaningless conversation.

Then, the man had paused at the mouth of a particular aisle and stared turbulently into the vacant space there, face and body pulled taut as if replaying an unpleasant memory. He was about to abandon his cart, you thought. About to leave you with a hanging apology he in no way owed you about how he wasn’t ready for this.

It was important, but perhaps it was still too hard. 

However, instead, you had blitzed into the centre of the aisle and trampled over his ghosts, barraging all of his memories out of the way as you shifted armfuls of dog food into your cart with a clatter.

He had swallowed thickly, his hands stuffed into his pockets, until you shot him another soft smile.

“You have a dog,” he observed tentatively, consciously tearing himself away from the past. Counting the seconds; his breaths, his heartbeats, the cans of dog food. Moving forward.

“I do. He’s the goodest boi. He even has medals of honour.”

The man tips his mouth into a lop-sided smile. “What for? Can he walk on his hind legs?”

“Ugh, okay. I love it when smug fuckers underestimate my mutt.” You had added the last of your tins to the cart and gestured for Will to follow you into the next aisle. Away from his demons. He did follow. “No, actually,” you begin more softly, “he sniffed out IEDs when I was on my tour of duty.”

“Holy shit, you’re army?”

“Ex-Army,” you correct. “You too, I’m guessing?”

He had that look. That manner to his movements. The man looked like he had killed. It was a look you had learned to identify at ten paces. It was a look you saw in the mirror often enough.

“That obvious?” he says, sucking in air through his teeth.

“Oh yeah.”

He had smiled nervously at you. For the first time since meeting him, you noticed that he looked sweet.

“Yep, uh, I got out. Now I give motivational speeches where I relive my trauma and try ‘n’ convince recruits it’s all worth it.”

You had nodded, thin-lipped, as you moved towards the check-out.

You had wondered what happened to him out there, but something about the way his gaze had fallen on that spot in the aisle told you that what weighed heaviest wasn’t what he did while he was in, but what he did when he got out.

Cart. Blacked-out. Choked. Almost...

That could happen. You had seen the pattern too many times amongst your buddies. Still, you had seen regret in this man’s eyes. That doesn’t always happen. Not everyone can pull back from the violence. Not everyone wants to.

You had peered into the man’s cart as he moved the items to be scanned. He had cola, lemons, and some sriracha in his cart, but... one step at a time. Coherent meals could come later.

This was hard. This was important.

“You should meet my floofy war hero. He’s outside in my truck,” you had offered, picking-up your bags, and the man picking up his... lemons etc..

“Oh yeah? Sure. Would be an honour,” he had smiled shyly, and you had tracked together over to your truck, thrown your bags in the back, and had let your boy out of the passenger seat.  

“Hey, buddy,” the man had cooed, kneeling down on the ground to deliver some quality scritches, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight.

“Aw, he loves you! Freddie, you slut!” you had laughed as this huge, burly man baby-talked to your mutt, your dog rolling on the floor and showing his belly like you didn’t feed and water him and take him for walkies.

You had watched the man for a moment. You had noticed a lot about him already, but now you noticed that, shit, he was handsome. That smile. That laugh. Blonde hair and beard and piercing eyes. His arms rippling beneath his pale blue t-shirt.

He had risen back to standing and leaned up against your truck, looking like soemthing out of a catalogue. And then, there it was again. That look. That raw, exposed, bile-inducing look.

“Listen,” he had said earnestly. “Thank you. I probably would still be standing out front if you hadn’t taken pity on me.” 

“No problem. Except, not pity. Not at all,” you had reassured. Affinity, maybe. Recognition.

He had huffed out a gentle, grateful breath.

“For real though, I was getting kinda tired of eating gas station noodle pots. Wouldn’t have my...” he had finally peered into the paper bag, registering the groceries he had panic bought. “Fuck. Wouldn’t have my lemons and sriracha without you.”

“Okay. Now maybe I’ll take pity on you,” you had smiled, gently teasing, and you shifted a few choice ingredient from your bags to his, despite his protests that you’d done enough for him already.

“You did it,” you had said firmly. “I just walked into a place where all the clerks accidently saw my ass cheeks. Whatever you did. It was hard and it was immportant. You did that. You should be proud.”

He had looked at you curiously and disbelievingly with those piercing eyes of his, like he didn’t deserve your words - even though they were merely the truth. So, you had bumped him on the arm, loaded Freddie back into the truck, and had thrown him a “Take care of yourself, man” as you clambered into the driver’s side.

“Wait.. I...”

The handsome, troubled man had motioned to you and you had wound down the window, leaning your arm out the side of the truck.

“Yeah?” you had asked, with a soft smile, but the man had simply shaken his head.

Cart. Blacked-out. Choked. Almost... 

Nevermind.

He had looked apologetic, like maybe he wasn’t ready to subject himself to anyone just yet. As if he looked at you and saw the ghost of someone he let down standing over your shoulder. Maybe even in your face.

Cart. Blacked-out. Choked. Almost... 

His brows had knitted together, and he had looked down at his boots, shifting and seeking sure-footing all over again. Grounding himself.

“Listen,” you had offered, starting your engine up. “I do my weekly shop at 2pm on Sundays. You know, if you ever need some company? Or,” you had added with a smile and a casual wink, “if you ever need an excuse to check-out a nice ass again.” 

He had nodded his head and pursed his lips together, before a broad grin split his features, his deep baritone now sounding full as a chuckle spills out of him.

“Good to know,” he had smiled, looking up at you shyly, and he had stepped back to let you swing the truck around and pull away, offering you a wave.

He never did tell you his name, but you had a feeling that you might be seeing him around.

Sometimes, things were simply better with company, after all.

[obscure-sentimentalist]

flommy, “I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you.”

[So this one’s been nagging at me for probably about a year now? It had been sitting half-started for ages, as I never really knew how to carry out the idea I had, but I did my best in coming back to it now. Bit lighter on the Flommy interactions this time, but in exchange we get Tommy and Thea siblingness and some Tommy thoughts.]

From the Comforting Cuddles starters list

“What do you think about ‘I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you’?”

“Do you need me to take you to the ER?” Thea deadpans from her perch on the cushioned window seat in Tommy’s room of the hotel suite without looking up from her phone. “Because it sounds like you got one of those Hallmark cards from the airport gift shop lodged in your throat.”

Tommy slowly lowers his own phone and rolls his head towards his sister, expression settling into one of loving annoyance. “What I’m getting out of that is that I have a future in the greeting card industry.”

“The future you should be more concerned about is the one where I spin-kick you in the head before the emotional trauma of hearing my brother workshopping romantic texts to his girlfriend sets in.”

“Hey, I’m keeping it perfectly PG,” Tommy defends, pointing at Thea with his free hand for emphasis.

That finally gets her to set her phone aside and swivel in her seat to face Tommy, giving him a striking, raised-eyebrow look. “I think the subject matter automatically makes it PG-13.”

“It’s a hotel bed!” Any exasperation behind the words trips right out of the gate, stumbling into nervous laughter.

Thea just continues to stare, swinging her legs back-and-forth unevenly as her feet dangle above the floor.

“That’s… achieved the perfect ratio of softness to firmness for an excellent night’s sleep?” Tommy can feel his ears reddening as they disappear into his shoulders. “Also, those pillows. Heavenly. Remind me to check with management to find out who the supplier is, I’m going to place a personal bulk order once we get back to Starling.”

“Right,” Thea says slowly, legs finally stilling. “So the high-quality comfiness is the thing worth writing home about. No other reason why you’d express missing having a plus-one to enjoy it.”

Had his mouth not dropped open with a scandalized pop instead, Tommy might have swallowed his tongue. “Thea Dearden Queen, you’re going to stop right there before I also ask about the hotel’s highest-strength cleaning supplies and if they can be applied directly to my brain.”

“You asked for critique,” Thea reminds him, but backs off by raising her hands sarcastically in surrender. “Just pointing out insinuations you may or may not have intended. You’re welcome.”

Chagrined by both the acknowledgement that he’d asked for help and his sister’s frankness in delivering said feedback, Tommy turns his attention back to the blinking cursor in the half-filled message box. The wittiness of the greeting has dulled significantly since the lightbulb first flicked on, even without the suggestive commentary. It’s a grim admission that spurs Tommy’s thumb to find the delete key and hold, consuming the carefully-crafted words before his eyes until he’s greeted once again by blank space.

The fact that Thea’s sigh is louder than his own is what pries Tommy away from his seemingly insurmountable task with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“You really haven’t done this sort of thing before, have you?” Thea asks, waving a hand vaguely at the room as she sinks back against the window. “The out-of-town business trip.”

Admitting defeat (at least for the moment), Tommy tosses the phone onto the bed and crosses his arms, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I mean, if my business was pleasure...”

“So no, then,” Thea cuts in with a fond eye-roll. Her face goes soft a moment later, though, and she glances back at Tommy with a strange sort of knowingness. “Which means you especially haven’t done it when you’ve been in an actual relationship.”

Tommy offers up an entirely sheepish look. “I think that’s a given.”

Thea makes a little shrug-like expression with her lips, conceding that point. She pulls one foot up to rest on the cushion and hugs her knee to her chest, before giving Tommy another gently pointed stare. “It’s okay, you know.”

“Hmm?” Tommy rocks back on his heels as he lets the questioning hum slip, and rolls his lips under for a façade of innocence. These last few exchanges have been drawing them dangerously close to vulnerable topics—it’s still Tommy’s carefully-wired reflex to either clown about it or just play dumb.

Too bad Thea knows those moves when she sees them, and her narrowed eyes suggest that she’s still considering the earlier threat of a spin-kick in the head.

“It’s okay to miss her,” she says, stripping Tommy’s anxieties bare with a single statement.

For a split second, he thinks he might have preferred stewing in the awkward surrounding the Bed Text for just a bit longer. Incidental innuendoes are familiar territory, even if being called out for them by his younger sister adds a new layer of humiliation.

The notion doesn’t linger, though, but it’s due less to the embarrassment than it is to his brain bouncing from point to point like a pinball machine from hell. The mortification just ricochets back to the almost-slip in question, and—true to pattern as of late—propels his thoughts to a flare of fondness and Felicity. The thing that makes Tommy want to bury his face in one of the pillows that started it all, though, is the fact that the ball rebounds again to the current conversation, seemingly inescapable.

“It’s not weird?” The question comes hesitantly as he uncrosses his arms, immediately bringing one hand to rub the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s only two nights, and one already down—we’re back by tomorrow afternoon, no time at all. I feel like it’s too much, just me being unreasonably clingy.”

Experience seems to back up that impression, after all. Two years, five, more have created gulfs between Tommy and his loved ones, and even then, his longing and loneliness came off as exaggerated and one-sided.

But maybe that’s not entirely fair, he immediately scrambles to note. Oliver was working through his own problems at the time (in questionably-at-best healthy ways), caught up in a different storm of emotion and trauma that instinctively repelled Tommy—familiar magnets flipped to the same pole for the very first time. Perhaps it took more time and effort than either of them could have expected, and still never returned them to where they left off, but they did manage to establish a balance better suited to who they are now.

(Even Tommy’s being in this hotel room—as one of three co-owners of Verdant, joining Thea in exploring options for expanding the club outside of Starling—is evidence enough of that reconciliation and understanding.)

As for his father’s absence and return…

Well, any expression of emotion comes off as an overreaction when compared to Malcolm, and should not be counted.

Almost as if she senses Tommy’s once-solid evidence crumbling to dust, Thea pushes off the window seat, landing gracefully on her feet. “You’re overthinking this, especially with the texts. Just call her, all right? We don’t need to head out for at least another hour, so there’s plenty of time.”

Still lagging a little bit from trying to detangle his anxieties, Tommy nods absently in agreement as his eyes follow Thea’s movements towards the door. When she crosses the threshold to head back into the suite’s living area, though, his brain finally catches up. “Hey! How is it that you’re the one giving me relationship advice?”

Thea grips the doorframe and leans her full body back into the room, one eyebrow arched as she tilts her head to look at him.

“I mean, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? You know, older brother’s prerogative and all?” Tommy defends weakly, wilting under the sharp stare.

“Seeing as I ended up with emotionally-constipated brothers on both sides, I think that privilege has been revoked,” Thea declares, smoothly propelling herself back upright and reaching for the doorknob. She pulls it behind her as she finally departs, but not before shooting Tommy a cheeky, “I’ll give you some privacy to relay the magical properties of a hotel bed.”

Tommy imagines his immediate response is the sound an ostrich would make if strangled. “Okay, look…”

The door closes firmly before he can get any more words out, but not fast enough that he doesn’t catch Thea’s laughter.

“Brat,” Tommy mutters affectionately under his breath, before teetering backwards to flop down on said bed. The impact bounces his phone an inch or two above the comforter, only to land face-down right next to his hip.

Tommy’s breath catches in his chest as his attention is drawn again to the device, a mere hand-twitch within reach. Hardly any effort at all to pick up, and selecting Felicity’s name from his recent call log to re-dial is no more complex a step. But his hand seems to be declining all calls from his brain, remaining unmoving at his side without even an itch in the fingertips.

He’s overreacting—he has to be, and for real this time. It’s been barely a day since his standard morning protest of Felicity’s alarm (involving an exaggerated yawn and an arm stretched across her stomach to secure her in place for just a bit longer) was met with a laugh and a set of ice-cold toes pressed to his shins in retaliation. Barely a day since Tommy lumbered past the bathroom door on his way to the kitchen and couldn’t (wouldn’t) fight the grin that bloomed upon overhearing Felicity’s murmur-singing of some earworm while getting ready. Barely a day since she’d swept into the kitchen, all color and curls, to accept the travel mug of coffee from Tommy’s hands in exchange for a soft, lingering kiss and wishes for a safe flight.

A one-day break from routine—one that’s still a few months fresh, at that—and certain comfort shouldn’t be this jarring, should it?

After all, it’s not like they’ve been completely out of contact for the last 24 hours. Tommy had passed along travel updates (and a couple pictures taken mid-flight of Thea, tuned out with her neck pillow, eye mask, and earbuds); in turn, Felicity had relayed the shift between her day and night jobs, and confirmed her safe return home following the latter. There may temporarily be a few hundred miles of physical distance between them, but Felicity is still firmly here in Tommy’s life.

And yet, he can’t help but linger on the memory of waking this morning: rolling onto his stomach and reaching across the bed, only for his arm to land flat atop a mattress completely devoid of another body’s warmth. How the confusion and pinprick of hurt struck faster than the recognition that said bed wasn’t his own and why, and the clarity only served to transform it into a yearning ache. Even brushing his teeth was a more solemn affair, with Tommy still half-listening for Felicity puttering around and starting her day.

Maybe Thea… has a point.

Before Tommy can tend to the gentle bruise to his ego from admitting his younger sister has relationship wisdom where he does not, his phone buzzes with an incoming call. Synapses finally firing as they should, his hand wraps around the device and lifts it to his face to glance at the screen.

His fingers nearly fumble and drop the phone directly onto his face when he sees Felicity’s contact photo (one he’d surreptitiously taken shortly after they’d moved in together, when he’d caught her pleasantly lost in thought at the kitchen table) and the banner requesting a video call.

Thankfully, Tommy manages to spare himself that painful landing by adjusting his grip and scooting back into a seated position against the headboard. He takes and releases a deep breath to compose himself, before his thumb finds the Accept button.

Within an instant of Felicity coming into focus, Tommy feels his lips tug into a broad smile to compliment her still-sleepy one.

“Morning,” she greets with a little finger-wiggling wave, before she pulls a steaming mug of coffee into view with her other hand. After a second, she curls her fingers into her palm and wrinkles her nose in thought. “Wow, that was weird.”

“What, saying ‘good morning’?” Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Felicity mirrors the expression and throws in a shrug. “I rarely get to open with it, at least. It’s usually beat out by someone requesting that I ‘please keep hands and feet and body inside the bed at all times’.”

“Always best to take those safety messages seriously, you know,” Tommy notes sagely. He can feel the corners of his mouth twitching, threatening an even bigger smile, but the impulse immediately extinguishes once he sees Felicity worrying her lower lip between her teeth and averting her gaze in uncertainty.

“I missed it today,” she blurts, catching them both off-guard after a (seemingly agonizingly long) beat. A light flush comes to her cheeks at that, but she confidently lifts her eyes back to meet Tommy’s and amends, “I missed you. Waking up with only a tangle of blankets trying to keep me in bed, and then getting ready on my own… I mean, it’s not unusual or unfamiliar, I did get by for many years this way. But I guess going back now, after getting into new and shared habits, is stranger than I expected.”

Felicity takes a breath to duck her head a little and push a stray curl behind her ear with her free hand, before picking up steam. “It must be something about the distance that’s getting to me—for no real reason, because it’s only been the one day and you’re back tomorrow—but I wanted to call and say…”

“I have pillows, blankets, supreme comfort, and all that’s missing is you.”

Only once Felicity pauses, lips frozen in a little “O” and only a single surprised blink to prove that the connection isn’t buffering, does Tommy realize he’s landed himself right back where he started. This time, though, he’s backed by Felicity’s own testimony, and that changes the game.

The lights on the pinball machine of his thoughts are going wild, that’s for sure.

“What I mean by that,” he starts, punctuating mid-sentence by awkwardly clearing his throat, “is that I miss you too. That I was actually looking forward to cold feet on my legs this morning, and hoping to hear you singing in the bathroom, and…”

Tommy trails off, disguising a small wince. Thea’s going to be smug about this for the rest of the weekend, and almost certainly for a while after they return to Starling.

“And I think that, if we’re both feeling this way, maybe we’re not overreacting so much as we’re… on to something.”

It’s difficult to determine what that “something” is, beyond the sense that it feels right. That they—Felicity and Tommy, together—feel right, and even a temporary deviation from pattern (no matter how small or odd) is a shock to the system.

It’s okay to miss her.

Felicity remains silent on the other end—the stunned expression having melted off her face and into something more thoughtful, but much less readable. Even though their conversation up to this point made their alignment apparently clear and she’s likely just turning the implications over in her mind, Tommy can’t help but subtly squirm from the suspense.

“Yeah,” Felicity finally speaks up, lips spreading in a small, soft smile as she nods in agreement. “Maybe we are.”

Despite that being the very answer Tommy was hoping to hear, he has no immediate idea how to respond.

“Oh. Uh, good,” he fumbles. “Because I’m hoping you’ll feel the same way about these pillows if I manage to find out where they’re from and get my hands on a few.”

Something in Tommy’s chest swoops as Felicity cracks out a startled yet amused laugh. “You’re really stuck on those, huh?”

Tommy meets that with a casual shrug and pats the one next to him for emphasis. “I’m a connoisseur. These meet all the necessary criteria, and then some.”

“And I’m a tough sell,” Felicity retorts, settling back in her seat and bringing her mug to her lips. “I know what I like, and I’m seeing only one pillow here that I want for sure by the end of the weekend.” To drive the point home, she bobs her head sharply to give Tommy a once-over.

“Well, now that I will gladly arrange,” Tommy agrees, and lets the grin spread unrestrained across his face.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Well, that chapter title, combined with this being the last chapter of volume two, really comes off as ominous! 

Also, because there’s no good break point that I can see in this chapter, I’m just gonna do all of it. This is… gonna be rough, I think. Apologies for the long post in advance.

[No. 17 - Game Over]

We start out in the collapsed zone, which is basically a cityscape that’s been partially destroyed / knocked down. Kirishima and Katsuki are both huffing and puffing as they take a moment to breathe after taking out all the villains who had attacked them in the room they were dumped into. Katsuki notes that that was all of them, then calls them a buncha mooks. Kirishima wipes at his face a bit as he says they need to hurry and help the others - if they’re still in the USJ, after all, then everyone else must be as well! And he’s worried about those who don’t really have ways to attack.

Kirishima goes on to determine that Thirteen probably has her hands full since they rushed ahead like that, and that none of this would have happened if they’d let her suck in that mist man. So as men, they have to take responsibility.

Katsuki’s brusque reply is that if that’s what Kirishima wants to do, then go on alone - he’s going to go beat the warp gate villain to a pulp. Kirishima is surprised by this declaration, wondering out loud what Katsuki’s still pulling that ‘immature crap’ at a time like this, plus reminding Katsuki that normal attacks don’t work on the warp villain anyways. 

Katsuki snaps at him to shut up, and then points out that Kurogiri is how the other villains are getting around - if they bring him down, the others will have nowhere to run. And besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have a way to beat said warp villain.

While the two were talking about the stuff above, a camouflaged villain sneaks up from behind Katsuki on the ceiling. Considering the fact that a random mook villain with an ‘invisibility’ quirk was able to get an outfit that went invisible/camouflage with them, I wholeheartedly refuse to believe Hagakure can’t have a full costume that’s as invisible as she is what with UA’s resources. If she says she’s mostly naked, she’s just trolling people for shits and giggles. 

Anywho, the villain lunges, knife in hand as they become visible, thinking about how the kids should keep talking and let their guard down. Kirishima, however, does notice the attack, but-

Katsuki moves before he can even say anything, blasting the villain unconscious without stopping his explanation to Kirishima. He notes calmly that if all the enemy is sending against them are low-danger idiots, then they should be fine. Kirishima quietly admires Katsuki’s reflexes, while commenting out loud how calm Katsuki is all of a sudden, with an aside showing him noting that Katsuki’s like ‘die!’; portrayed with this is Katsuki’s same ‘evil face’ as Izuku pictured when he was worried about Katsuki being in the same class. 

Katsuki snaps that he’s always calm ‘you damn broomhead’, with Kirishima chuckling as he snaps his finger and says ‘there it is.’ Katsuki then clenches his gauntleted fist as he states that he’s out of there. Kirishima knocks his hardened fists together as he tells Katsuki to hold up, and that he (Katsuki) has to his pals, and to be a man. He then states that Katsuki’s convinced him. (Probably about the benefits of going after the warp villain again.)

Next, we shift back over to the entrance, with the door closed. Tenya is still making his mad dash for it, swearing through grit teeth as he tries to outrun Kurogiri. Kurogiri seems to be getting rather peeved himself based on the shape of his dialogue boxes getting more ragged; he calls Tenya impertinent, and states again that he won’t allow him to leave. 

Ochako dashes forward, a determined expression on her face, with Sero and Ashido watching her. Ashido is crouched over Thirteen, checking on her, but asks what Ochako is going to do. Ochako points out a bit of the metal brace just visible in the smoke to them, which they quickly spot as well. 

Tenya is getting close to the doors at this point, and remembers that they’re automatic doors, before wondering if he can kick them down, or if they’re too thick for that. We get a fun panel of his face as he seems prepared to just try and ram it anyways, shouting a battlecry - only to cut off as Kurogiri again looms before him, declaring that the kid has underestimated him. 

Also, the man fucking calls Tenya ‘four-eyes’. I cannot. The disrespect.

Anyways, Kurogiri tells Tenya to vanish, but Tenya manages to somehow duck underneath as Kurogiri moves upwards, much to the surprise of both of them. Why, you ask?

Ochako being a fucking badass is why. She has latched onto Kurogiri’s brace, noting that she’s not sure why, but if he’s wearing that brace, then he has to have a real body in there. She strains herself, but she manages to use her own strength and her quirk in order to toss him up, up, and away from Tenya, all while telling her friend to go. 

Kurogiri continues to woosh away from the ground as he realizes she got his body - then is alarmed again when a piece of tape manages to stick to his back. Sero tugs Kurogiri around on the end of his tape, also telling Tenya to get going. Tenya manages to get the door open enough to squeeze through while Kurogiri is distracted, dashing through the opening and towards the school while Sero detaches his tape and sends Kurogiri flying further with the momentum of the swing. 

Kurogiri is silent for a moment before swirling into himself, noting that if the kid calls for help, then it’s game over. Honest to god, why do I never see this stuff in fics, I cannot believe Kurogiri is saying this kind of stuff. Either it’s odd translation stuff, or else it was just cut from the anime, and if it’s the latter, then I am mad disappointed. 

(staring at next part) Yeah no, I think I’ll be pretty careful with my choice of image use. If this were a fic, this is where the ‘graphic depictions of violence’ would come in, if not sooner in this arc.

We go back to Eraserhead, Shigaraki, and the Nomu, with the first panel being a relative closeup of the Nomu crushing Eraserhead’s right arm. Like, that’s not hyperbole, you can see the arm being scrunched and the blood pouring from the arm, jesus fucking christ. And Eraserhead not making a peep for it? Talk about pain tolerance. I know this is a shounen and all that, but just. The arm is being CRUSHED. Lesser mortals would pass out at this point. 

Shigaraki wobbles back to his feet, noting that cancelling out quirks is pretty cool, but nothing special - up against crazy strength, he might as well be quirkless. Eraserhead manages to latch his eyes on the nomu’s left hand at it reaches for his left arm, but that doesn’t prevent the nomu from snapping said arm like a twig. Eraserhead can’t prevent himself from a pained shout. 

Eraserhead grits through the pain at he notes that looking at any part of the nomu’s body should have nullified it, which meant that was the nomu’s base strength - easily as strong as All Might. The nomu lifts Eraserhead’s head up while he’s thinking this, then slams him face first into the ground, hard enough to leave an impact crater. And, notably, Eraserhead is still alive and conscious. Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST.

Meanwhile, Izuku, Tsuyu, and Mineta look on, developing major trauma as they watch their teacher basically tortured for shits and giggles. Mineta is trembling with hands covering his mouth and tears in his eyes, Tsuyu’s partially submerged her face into the water, and Izuku is just. Frozen in absolute fear. Mineta realizes how bad this is, and practically begs for a change of plans from Izuku. Tsuyu ribbits in agreement, but Izuku just. Cannot think of a thing.

Kurogiri spirals into existence besides Shigaraki, giving Shigaraki’s full name for the first time in the manga. Shigaraki in turn greets Kurogiri, also the first time we’re seeing the name I think? Anyways, Shigaraki asks Kurogiri if Thirteen is dead. Kurogiri states that she’s incapacitated, but that there were students he couldn’t warp away, and that one of them escaped. 

Shigaraki starts scratching at his neck with one hand, then both, his irritation ramping up as he mulls this over. We get another shot of an eye between the fingers of the face-hand as he states that he’d turn Kurogiri to dust if he wasn’t their ticket out of there. They won’t stand a chance against dozens of pros, after all. He then states that it’s game over, and then corrects himself - it’s game over, for now.

He then tells Kurogiri they’re leaving. Mineta is surprised by this quickly glancing over to Tsuyu and Izuku, asking if he heard that right. Tsuyu says he did. Mineta leaps on her in relief, stating that they’re saved. Tsuyu starts to say ‘yeah, but-’ only to cut herself off when Mineta’s hand ends up on her boob (could have been accident or not here). 

She starts casually drowning Mineta as she continues her previous thought - she’s got a bad feeling about this. Izuku agrees - to do all this, and then just leave on a whim… 

He continues to think over the discrepancy to himself as he watches the villains talk a bit more. The villains had wanted to kill All Might; UA’s just going to be in more danger than ever if they get away now. He then notes Shigaraki’s use of ‘game over’, and is worried over what they’re thinking at that moment. 

As if Shigaraki had heard his thoughts, he speaks up again. Before they leave, they should leave a few dead kids… and he’s motioning right for the three who’d been watching up until then. 

Since I can’t really capture the moment of terror in words:

Just. Shigaraki moves so fast, the kids have no time to react to it. Tsuyu’s only just released Mineta from underwater. Izuku is just barely able to turn to see Shigaraki already in Tsuyu’s face, his mind empty but for the memory of what happened to Eraserhead’s elbow. And Tsuyu’s face is just. God, I cannot imagine how she must have felt, being so close to death like that.

There’s a moment of silence from Shigaraki as nothing happens. He then repeats his previous statement - you really are pretty cool, Eraserhead. As it turned out, he took advantage of the nomu living his head in order to activate his quirk, saving Tsuyu’s life. The Nomu proceeds to slam his head back down again, but I guess Aizawa’s managed to keep his eyes open, since it still doesn’t activate even as Izuku goes in for an attack. 

(Poor kid, his entire thought process as he goes in for that swing is just ‘no no no no no no no no no-’, like. You see this again later on when his close friends are in danger, how he just is basically so deeply tunnel visioned on just saving them.)

Izuku’s right arm buzzes with power as he thinks that Shigaraki’s nothing like the villains who’d been in the water. He mentally urges Tsuyu to run and save herself while he shouts at Shigaraki to get off of her. Shigaraki just casually calls for the nomu. 

His blow connects with something, the force fairly intense from the impact point. Izuku is confused as he registers that his arms’ not broken. He’s shocked and a bit annoyed (I guess) that now is when he managed to regulate the power. He then wonders if he really did it, since he knows the smash connected, he knows he did it.

As the smoke clears, we see the nomu lurking over Izuku, totally unharmed by the attack. We get a thin panel showing the nomu’s dead eye, as Izuku looks up in worry. His thoughts are a frazzled mess, first realizing the speed, then a half-finished thought on when the nomu moved, and then the slowly dawning realization (and fear) that the attack didn’t work. 

He flashes back to Tsuyu’s comment on the yacht, that the villains must have figured out a way to kill All Might, otherwise why show up just to get beaten. Izuku is in disbelief, because it’s one thing to accept that as theory, but another to realize it’s absolutely true. Shigaraki notes that that’s quite a move Izuku just pulled off… and with a ‘smash’ too. He then asks if Izuku’s a fan of All Might. Izuku tries to pull away, but the nomu already has him by the arm as Shigaraki shrugs off his own question with a casual ‘whatever’. 

God, just, the silence of this page and all the ‘in the moment’ snippets that show everything happening pretty much at once. 

Tsuyu shoves Shigaraki’s hand away as she lashes out ith her tongue to try and grab Izuku. Aizawa is shown to be passed out on the ground. We see Shigaraki reaching back out to kill both Tsuyu and Mineta as the nomu holds Izuku in place, Tsuyu’s tongue still not even managing to reach Izuku yet. 

The doors at the front of the USJ are literally blasted from the doorway like shots out of a cannon. The kids who were still up there by the door are all relieved as they look at their savior - All Might. 

And that’s the end of the chapter - and of volume two. Supplementary material to follow. 

Man, just imagine being someone who only reads the manga when the volumes come out. Can you imagine being left on this cliffhanger for who knows how many months? Couldn’t be me. And the cliffhangers are only gonna get worse from here on out!

[everythinggeeky]

Out of Nowhere | Stucky

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (poly)

Warnings: polyam relationship, language, violence, stalking, angst, pregnant reader, pet names, comfort & fluffy ending

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You make a trip out, but are followed by some threatening men. Bucky and Steve pull you out of the sticky situation, but tell you to be more careful because you’re expecting. The situation escalates beyond expectation on your way home.

masterlist

A/N: This is part of my 5 Days of Oneshots! tag lists are open!

You called Bucky on the phone from the dressing room of the designer store, panicked. You panted, desperate for any source of his voice, so you watched the phone ring and ring in your hand. Attempting to take a deep breath to ease the anxiety thumping in your chest, you finally got a callback.

“Babe? Everything going okay? Are you having fun?” his voice happily chirped.

“No. It’s not good, Buck. Can you come down here? There are guys following me and I-”

“Fuck. Babe. I knew I should’ve gone with you. Or at least sent Stevie. Listen, I’ll be there in less than 10. Where are you?”

“Hermes. On Madison Avenue. I’m in the dressing room. ”

“Shit. Alright. I’ll be right there. Has anyone said anything to you?”

“No, but they were looking at me, speaking into their phones...following me. Please, hurry up I really don’t like this.”

“I’m on my way. Steve is coming with. Listen to me, sweetheart. I’m gonna be there real soon but you need to breathe for me, okay?”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. Hey, I’m gonna put Steve on the phone, okay?”

“Okay,” your quiet voice spoke into the void of the four-by-four square of the dressing room.

You had been engaged to Bucky for eight months, dating for two years before that. Now four months pregnant, this was your first serious outing on your own without any serious supervision from either Bucky or Steve or another Avenger. Not that you couldn’t get by on your own, but your serious profile as the spouse to be of an Avenger led yourself to the occasional paparazzi sighting.

Three solid thumps on the door of the dressing room brought you out of your spiral. Your head snapped to find the noise. A rough voice spoke to another standing outside of the door.

“We know you’re in there, little miss avenger. Come out here and show us your pretty face.”

Standing, rising to your fight reflex, you prepared yourself to fight off the predators outside the door. Digging your heels into the ground and raising your arms square, you pep yourself up to do the first fighting since you had gotten pregnant. A few solid thuds echo through the thin walls separating you from the captors. They must be getting vicious with one another, you thought to yourself.

All of a sudden, the door threw itself open, and you threw a blind punch. Your fist was caught by another, but not by your predators that threatened you before.

“Been a minute outside of the field, huh, doll?” Bucky chuckled, lowering your fist to your side.

You relaxed, relieved to see him here so quickly, “yeah, it has,” you sighed.

“It’s alright. We’re here now,” Bucky pulled you into his chest, Steve standing a few feet behind him.

“Thank you,” you spoke softly into his chest.

“Did you get what you needed, princess?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Let’s go, darling,” Bucky releases you, allowing you to pick up your purse and pull yourself together.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, boys.”

“Anything to keep our girl safe,” Steve speaks up.

The three of you make your way to the exit of the store, the storefront a mess of handbags torn from shelves, scattered merchandise all over the floor. Bucky’s flesh hand, which was interlaced with your own, pulled your attention away from the mess. He knew your thought process and knew you would try to blame this on yourself. Steve’s hand on your lower back pushed you along gently forward. The sleek black sports car was parked along the street. The boys helped you inside to the backseat, while they took their seats in the front row.

“Comfortable, darling?” Steve said, looking into the review mirror from the passenger seat.

“Yes, thank you.”

Bucky starts making the thirty-minute drive back to your cozy home in the suburbs. You had just moved a few weeks ago; buying the home to make room for the twins that were to be born in just a few months. You quickly felt comfortable there; a respite from the hustle and bustle of the city. Of course, Bucky still left about every day to go do work at the Tower. You had felt safe there, surrounded by friendly neighbors and a gated community.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky was eyeing the rearview mirror now and again while he was driving. 

“What’s wrong…?” you asked quietly from the backseat.

“Nothing, sweetheart, don’t worry about it, okay?” Bucky said comfortingly, flashing a look of concern to Steve.

Steve played it cool and looked into the rearview, and then the side mirror. The same black Escalade has been following you since you left Madison Avenue. Bucky took a detour from your regular route, making a turn about a mile too early.

“Bucky. Tell me.”

“There’s someone behind us, Y/N, okay?”

“The guys from the mall?”

“Probably,” Bucky snaps.

You sink into your seat, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt. Steve turned towards you, searching your body language for clues. He reached his arm over the driver’s seat to rest on your knee, rubbing it over to comfort you. You looked back up at him, scared. You had seen immense threats across the universe but somehow, the moment that someone came for your family and those that you care for the most, the threat was even more real than galactic threats.

 “I can’t shake them, Steve,” Bucky sighed, looking over to Steve with concern.

Before the next exit plan could be established, shots rang out. You squealed and dropped to the floor of the sporty sedan the three of you used for regular travel. 

“Y/N. You’re safe here. Safety features, darling,” Bucky reminded you, reaching into the glove compartment for his own handgun he had stashed away.

“They are literally firing at us!!”

 Bucky lowered the driver’s side window and blindly fired out the window. Looking behind him, he fired one lucky shot into the passenger side tire. Spinning out, the stalkers swerved into the opposite lane, crashing into the embankment. Bucky sped home with minimal damage to your car. 

“We’re calling Stark. There must be a reason why they followed us home,” Steve started.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Steve. Just your average, everyday stalkers,” Bucky shushed him.

“She’s literally pregnant...dating one, that the public knows of, if not two, Avengers. We can’t take this lightly.”

“Hi, I’m still here and can hear everything,” you reminded your boys.

“Sorry babe.” 

You arrived at home, Bucky urged you inside with a hand on your lower back, checking the surroundings behind him. After you all made it successfully inside, Steve locked the door, a pathetic effort to secure the premises. You sat down on the couch, Bucky taking his place next to you again, pulling you into his side.

Steve walked into the room, “so tell me again how it happened.”

“Well I noticed some guys pulling in on me, they were the same ones you beat up when you came to rescue me. At first, they were being quiet, just browsing, but then they started getting closer and speaking into their phones. They said they finally found me, after looking for me for so long.”

“And you didn’t know who they were?” Steve asked.

“No, I’ve never seen them. Not even in a case file.”

“Just making sure.”

“Stevie. We gotta get this place secure. They know who she is and now know where she is,” Bucky sighed, pulling you close.

“I told you I’m gonna call Stark,” Steve sighed, pinching his brow.

Bucky sighed and kissed the top of your head. Out of nowhere, your phone goes off a few times in a row.

We know where you are.

We’re coming for you.

Your boys can’t protect you now, Y/N.

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, reading the texts.

“Bucky…”

“Yeah babe, what’s that?”

You turned the screen towards him, your hand shaking. Bucky’s eyes glazed over the screen smoothly, he looked back up at you.

“Basement. Now,” he urged you from your seat on the couch.

You got up without a complaint, grabbing your own handgun from the hidden compartment in the coffee table. Taking the steps by two, you found a hiding spot. Steve and Bucky both check the window, Bucky takes the time to compare with what the simple security system says. 

“System Armed,” the message flashed across the screen.

Bucky cocks the gun in his flesh hand, standing on guard by the door. A black Escalade, mirroring the one following the three of you on your way home, makes its way up the driveway. Steve’s voice switches over into Avenger mode.

“Black SUV in the driveway. Three men inside. Armed. I’m calling this in,” Steve says in a hushed tone not loud enough to be heard through the simple door.

He steps away to call the emergency into Avengers HQ, stressing the need for a high-tech security system.

Yes, in the suburbs. Yes, at Bucky Barnes’ private residence.

A bang from the butt of an automatic rifle against the door returns Bucky to his focus. He brings his shoulder back, listening closely for approaching footsteps and any sign of forced entry.

Steve looked over at Bucky and recognized his facial expression immediately. The narrowed eyes that seemed to compute all the information he was receiving in a matter of moments echoed his days as the Winter Soldier. He knew Bucky would do anything to protect you, but he wasn’t going to let him dive into this super-toxic place once again.

“Buck…,” he called out to him, reaching for the shield, kept humbly behind the living room couch.

Bucky ignored him, choosing instead to reach for the handgun that was holstered in the waistband of his jeans.

Before Steve could call out again, the group of men was knocking down the door. Cutting Bucky off to firing a shot, Steve threw the shield blindly into the mass. With a satisfying clink, the shield clamored into two of the men, knocking them over. Steve fired a look to back down at Bucky before following the shield to retrieve it. 

Bucky took care of the third and final man with one solid punch to the chin.

“Don’t touch our girl,” he growled to the unconscious man, who lay on the threshold of his suburban home.

“Go make sure she’s okay,” Steve turned to Bucky.

He nodded, taking one last glance at the men that now littered the stoop, while Steve took them in, and reported the case to the higher-ups. Bucky took the steps two-by-two, regaining his breath as he went down.

“Babygirl…? Where are you? Are you okay?” 

“I’m in here,” you spoke from the storage room.

Bucky opened the door slowly, relieved to see your unbruised, undamaged self. Unfortunately, he knew the harshest trauma resided in the mind. Wrapping his hefty arms around your small, but the distended frame was immediately comforting. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, focusing on the gentle reminder of the cologne he sprayed in this identical location this morning.

“I love you,” he kissed into the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,”

“What mess? Being an Avenger? Being engaged to you?” you paused to turn your face towards him, “the last time I checked, I signed up for this. I said ‘yes’.”

Bucky nodded to himself, reminding himself of his worth. He was blessed to have you by his side every day of his life, for the rest of his life. Yes, your lifestyles asked for trouble along the way, but if you could help each other navigate that, perhaps it would make it a little easier on both of your souls. 

Your life here in the suburbs was a little piece of heaven; Steve, Bucky, and your little one that was on the way. Untraditional? Perhaps to the outsider. But the pull of the three of your hearts was more powerful than a black hole. To take one piece away would destroy you all, so for now, you decide to stay focused on the present and what you had now.

Footsteps came down the stairs, “Everybody’s gone, want to watch a movie?” Steve pulled you out of your moment.

Bucky chuckled, “yeah, Steve, wanna order a pizza?” He pulled away from you to arm’s length.

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve confirmed, “Does that work for you, little one?”

You nodded, happy to be safe with your boys once again.

tagged: @hxldmxdxwn @kenobee @obiwkenobi @ilovesupersoldiers @jbarnesss @stephieraptorr

[octalove]

IX: Bullets (And Other Things That Don’t Go Back)

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader and Jason are out for revenge- it doesn’t go as planned. Previous.

TW: Description of gore!!! Seriously.

This was the Bowery. Darkness became blackness here; the shadows were mountains too steep to be climbed. Each clinical electric light on the Estate didn’t seem to make a dent in the depth of them. The air was suffocating, smelling of smoke and sewage. I knew what kind of people were tucked within it; a nest of hornets. The kind of people who kill women in their homes- their beds.

The kind of people who killed my parents.

Jason was beside me, helmet yet to be pulled on as we watched from the shadows, taking in the composition of the place. His warmth and sturdy presence was reassuring; I felt nervous, and I knew why. This was personal.

At the heart of this hornet’s nest was Adriano Cliffs. He’d successfully broken up the families and rekindled a war, blaming the Pellegrinos- Kane Pellegrino specifically- for Penelope’s death. With no marriage, the families were once again enemies and competitors, and pointing the finger at Penelope’s husband was the salt in the wound that finally spurred Olivier D’amici.

Jason told me that she signed Cliffs’ deal at her granddaughter’s funeral.

He was here, tonight. The old Estate was bought with D’amici money, and inside were a dozen armed men on the D’amici payroll. Drug packaging, maybe. I wasn’t too concerned with the particular crimes taking place at the Estate; there was only one crime I wanted revenge for.

The objective was simple; find Cliffs. Whatever Red Hood did thereafter, I wouldn’t stop him. Cliffs had no children, no family. Nothing but his depraved ambitions, and as far as I was concerned, the world was better off without them.

The inside of the Estate was something out of ancient Greece. White marble floors and limestone Corinthian pillars- including a Greek-style statue in the center of the large foyer. It depicted a dramatically-posed bearded man who appeared to be reaching skyward, with the direction of his upturned eyes, a cloth swirling around his form by grace non-existent wind; ever-frozen in time.

On either side of the grandiose room were large, winding stair cases leading to a second floor with intricate railing. It was the kind of house that was built before the Bowery fell to crime and poverty. Even in the dark, with all the boxes, crates, and plastic-covered furniture, the house was a work of art.

We could hear voices carrying from back rooms and hallways, as laymen busied themselves with packing the crates with who-the-hell-knows.

Red Hood was incredibly quiet for the two-hundred pounds he was. He fell into shadows seamlessly, so still you couldn’t see the motion of his drawing breath. We moved together, common tongue of small nods, and barely perceptible hand signals. Slow movements.

Toe to heel. Steady breath. Nice and easy.

Red gave me a slight head tilt, and headed for the East wing, while I crept down the main hall. A stark, stand-alone light was in the enormous living area, illuminating some internal construction- remodeling of some kind. There was paint, ladders, and tools strewn about. I moved forward cautiously, inspecting the many corridors that the living room made way for. The narrow hallway was nearly pitch black, but I heard voices from behind a couple of the closed doors. Hushed, urgent. I pressed my ear to one.

“...What’d he say?”

“Dunno. Somethin’ bout how Cliffs got some guys want him dead for this.”

“For what? Workin’ wit the old lady?”

“Nah, not that... says Cliffs was the one who bumped off the granddaughter.”

I strained to hear them more clearly, my ear and hands pressed to the cool wood.

“Hey!”

I whipped around just as two men rushed toward me in the dark hallway. I stood, and charged them before they could draw their weapons, hitting one in the temple, and kicking the other one into the wall with concentrated force.

I turned back around just in time to see the two men I’d been eavesdropping on bursting from their room, pistols raised. I ducked as one fired a shot- one that rang like an alarm and echoed off the marble and limestone.

So much for quiet.

I slid low, and swept my leg beneath the shooter, knocking him to the ground, then delivered a left jab to the throat of the other. It was too late- I had the attention of the entire mansion now- hearing shouting and footsteps coming from all directions. As three more men appeared from the corridor, I darted back into the open living room.

More gunshots came from behind me, and a reflexive cry escaped my mouth, as I rushed for some form of cover in the nearby structures. I ducked behind an old drywall just as spray of bullets cascaded along it.

Something grazed my right cheek, and I knew the laceration was there even before I felt it. I drew a sharp breath, back pressed against the wall.

Something that sounded like voices, shouting, could be heard outside. Gun flashes ripped through my peripheral vision, hitting the man that was firing on me, who recoiled and made a disgustingly grim sound as he fell.

The wound on my face stung with ruthless irritation. My hand moved absentmindedly to cover the flesh and keep it together, but I felt the immediate fervid heat of cascading blood flood onto my palm, and through the spaces in between my fingers. It had to be deep.

“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Fuck. Fuck!” I pulled myself from my hiding place as a goon ducked behind it, not having enough time to notice me before I delivered a mean right hook.

My knuckles hurt upon the impact, but then, my whole body ached, making it hard to tell. Lines of pain blurred. It frustrated me that I felt helpless. Floundering in what was sure to be a terrifying and inglorious death, full of bullets, to become another corpse for a team of men to find and send back to the City Morgue. Burned in a cremator and reduced to nothing.

The sensation of my own blood pouring over my arm made me panic. There was so much of it, and it was so thick, and hot. I listened for more adversaries, light-headed from the loss, and the adrenaline.

As I pulled myself back into the fray, I halted in the open room, just in time to find myself eye level with a gun, staring down the barrel like my own funeral.

My gaze trailed from the gun, along the arm of my assailant, and settled on the familiar face I’d been inches from at the D’amici party.

The last time I’d been this close to him was when I was afraid I was going to make him spill his wine. His blue eyes were hard and full of hate. My stomach dropped, because I knew it was the last thing Penelope ever saw.

I was going to die.

I held my breath, closed my eyes.

But nothing came. There was a thud, and a cracking noise. As I opened my eyes, he was on the ground, and Red Hood was standing over him.

“Wrong fucking move, Cliffs.”

Irately, he kicked his stomach. Twice. Then, he circled, swung low and grabbed Cliffs by his hair. He made a struggling sound and tried to grasp at Red’s armored wrists, to no avail.

“You wanna put a bullet in another girl, that it?” His voice was full of unraveled anger as he dragged Cliffs. Dropping him forcefully, then picking him up again.

“You picked-“ He slammed Cliff’s head into a marble pillar. The sound was soft, but I flinched, and then shrunk under the sound of Cliff’s agonized cry.

“The wrong-“ He slammed it again.

“Fucking-“ Again.

“One.“ Again. The last blow was a wet, squelching sound as all the flesh had broken away, revealing the skull beneath. When his body finally crumpled lifelessly, a torrent of blood followed, flooding across the marble. His face was featureless- pieces of broken skull fragments indistinguishable from the teeth jutting out in all directions, flesh and hair melding with the blood. My eyes were glued to it.

I let out a shuddering exhale; a breath I’d been holding since the barrage began. I hadn’t even realized I’d sunken to the floor until I felt the cold marble beneath my hands, steadying me.

Red Hood leaned back in a tired way, catching his breath, before turning on me. I was sure for a moment I looked afraid. He gave no indication that he noticed.

“Can you walk?” His voice was harsh, jolting me back to a reality I didn’t know if I wanted to face. Automatically, I nodded.

He knelt down, his leather glove tipping my chin as he surveyed my face.

“Who shot you?”

“I... I don’t know..” I breathed. My mind was still catching up, reckoning with the fact that I was alive. “He’s dead.” I added.

Satisfied with that conclusion, Red turned his wrathful gaze on the back door, where some echoing gunshots could still be heard.

He stood, and pulled me to my feet as well. I only swayed a little, before I composed myself with some desperate sort of intrinsic resolve.

Pull yourself together. You’re Batgirl, for God’s sake.

He held up a gloved hand as we reached the exit, scanning the darkness. Then, together, we paced into the open night.

I wanted it to be over. I wanted to run, so I moved quickly over the concrete patio. There was a small garden in the back- dead trees and bare bushes from the harshness of winter’s height. The chill of which pricked my skin.

Suddenly, Jason grabbed my arm, pulling me to a halt. He tugged my body closer with ease, muscles tight with tension. He surveyed the dark garden, and as I followed his gaze, only then did I notice the silhouetted figure at the back gate.

I was petrified. I crouched, and knew my mask and hood covered my face, but I felt utterly visible. Luckily, Nightwing seemed more interested in Red Hood, who stood there, equal opposite to him, looking like a pissed snake about to strike. I believed it. I’d just seen it. Very abruptly, the tides of my fear shifted- so much so that the pain in my cheek dulled to a lulling ache. I was afraid for Dick.

“Jason,” Nightwing said. It was an odd thing; I knew that everyone knew who he was, but all this time it felt like my knowledge. My secret. My Jason. Now, night and day were crashing into one another, and my illusion was wavering. It was all wavering.

“Jason, I’m sorry. What happened to you- I’m so, so sorry.” The emotion in his voice made my chest hurt. “But you can’t keep doing this. Just talk to us. I miss you, little brother.”

Looking at him, I knew Red Hood was all static; charged up and willing to take out the aggression on the nearest medium of opposition. Nightwing may as well have been talking down a brick wall.

“If you don’t move, brother,” Red’s robotic drag was a sneering mockery and an earnest threat all at once. “I’ll move you.”

I was cemented to the darkness that concealed me, and still reckoning with my wounds, I didn’t know if I could help in a fight. I wasn’t sure who I would fight. Nightwing drew closer, his footfall against the garden’s gravel and the rustling wind were loud in my still-ringing ears. Red shifted his weight, blood-coated hands hovering above his holstered guns.

I stood, slowly. What the hell kind of Batgirl was I if I watched them tear each other apart?

But then, I wasn’t Batgirl, was I? Tonight, I wasn’t the hero. Under all the blood and black clothing, I was just me.

I reached out, my hands grasping at the hem of Red’s jacket sleeve, holding the leather tightly, like if I let go, the night sky would fall from where it hung above us. I pulled softly, a wordless plea, tugging him away from the jaws of a fight, wherein no victory lie- not for anyone.

He stood firmly, and drew his gun. In the time it takes to blink, he fired a shot at a goon who was emerging from the house’s back door. Nightwing and I both jumped, and then he looked back and forth between Red and the man’s body.

After a second more of resistance, Red resigned, turning to usher me into the steep shadows. Nightwing didn’t give chase in favor of trying to save the man’s life-if he could- and we peeled away into the dark.

*

“Jesus. Fuck... fuck.” I was shaking. Muscles trembling from the adrenaline and heart racing from our near-miss with Nightwing, and the way Cliffs’ eyes and blood vessels and skull looked smas-

“Hey. Easy.” My hands were in Jason’s. I must have missed when he shed his helmet, gloves and jacket as we entered his safe house. His skin was warm, his hands still as death. “Easy, little bird.” His eyes were so dark and deep, they looked like the grim, black waters of Gotham River. It was impossible to identify the multitude of emotion that lay swallowed below his torrent gaze. Concern, apathy, vigor, anger, all of it. More, that I couldn’t begin to understand. It wasn’t fair.

“Sit down.” He said. I did, pulling my gaze from his and effectively breaking the spell. He inspected the bullet graze on my cheek, the skin dark with blood.

“I’ll get some gauze.” He muttered, turning away. I focused on my breathing as he pulled off his holsters and set them with a loud clatter on a metal desk he had. He sighed.

“Damn. I wanted Cliffs alive a little longer.“

I looked at him, but it was a full thirty seconds before I comprehended what he said. After that, there was sudden knock in my mind.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I breathed, before I could think it through.

He studied me considerately. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you just- everything went- you... you destroyed him. You didn’t stop.”

“Don’t tell me that actually surprises you.” I drew a breath, calming down enough to try and gather my thoughts.

“I don’t know. That’s... That’s not who I thought...“ It came out before I could think.

“Who did you think I was?”

I let his mind fill in the blank, because any answer I supplied was going to sound stupid. I didn’t know who I thought he was. Not good and not evil. He was decidedly human. I couldn’t look at him any other way, no matter how else my perception swayed depending on my company.

“A murderer?” He asked, an edge to his voice like a blade heating up in embers. I stayed silent. “A criminal? A psychopath?”

I bit the inside of my lip. A small taste of coppery blood.

“That was- I don’t... I did. I did think that. But then you... then you were Jason.” I said. He scoffed at that.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me you didn’t see what I’d done before you started meeting me. Oh, no- wait, wait- you didn’t really think you could fix me? You’re smarter than that.” He was pissed now, and the look in his eyes was what I imagined Alphonso Kuznetsov saw before the coffin lid slammed shut.

“Baby, I’ve been a charity case before, remember? Just like you.”

“That’s not what I am.” I managed to fire, leaning forward. Maybe just to remind him I was worth my weight in a fight. But maybe I wasn’t, when it came to him. “I earned my place-“

“As Barbara’s replacement? I don’t think so.”

I let out a dry, frustrated laugh, and turned my head, letting the urge to yell and scream burn in my chest. A deep breath to smother the flame. Then, I retreated back to the previous point.

“You’re right. I did know what you’d done, and I knew what you were capable of. But that was before all of this.“

“And what is ‘this’?”

This- this this. This neurotic back and forth. Ebbing into him and flowing back to my family just to feel like whoever was more important to me was whoever I was with at the time. I wasn’t on the fence, I was the fence. I had no right of my own, no place on either side. I could offer mediation. Mediocre comfort. Nothing more.

“This. Us. Working with... with you and Batman, and I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong.”

“You don’t know?” He sounded disbelieving. “Face it, babydoll. He doesn’t give a shit about you, or what you ‘earned’. You’re a tool to fuel his fucking self-serving ambitions, just like your parents were.”

“Don’t talk about them.”

“Why? They worked for him and so do you. Only difference is they worked for Bruce and you work for Batman.” His tone was dangerously condescending. I was meeting ice with fire, and it wasn’t working. “You’re a brand. Just like Robin. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter who wore the mask before, or who’s gonna wear it next. You’re nothing to him.”

A long, strangled moment passed. I’m not even sure if he was awaiting a prolepsis, or thought I’d given up, but both of us were left to rot in the apprehension.

“I’d hate to die like you did.” The quiet, vicious acidity that dipped into my voice threw even myself off kilter. A consequence of months of keeping all these goddamn secrets. My head felt like some dark, noxious lightning in a bottle. The edge in my tone was just a cork coming loose.

He met my gaze, and for the first time, looked like he couldn’t tell what I was thinking. His eyes narrowed a little, his muscles tense, coiled deep.

“But just because he forgot about you doesn’t mean he’ll forget about me.”

His infuriating silence that usually encouraged me to open up now hung in the air, tremendous, and growing still, until it was bigger than both of us. I held my ground, even as his eyes bore into me with eerie, hollow fury.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020 day 05- arrivals

title: Flying Home

summary: Airport AU - Sakura comes back from the Wind Country after almost 7 months and her boyfriend is there to pick her up.

a/n: I had this idea when I went to pick up my brother at the airport last year and I saw those vending machines with flowers. They were just so cute and I HAD to picture a SasuSaku scene from it! This is a small fluff and my beta-reader was a bit busy, so it’s also un-beta’d. I apologize for the grammar mistakes in advance, but I hope you can enjoy it! 

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.

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'Just landed.’

Her message had arrived almost 15 minutes before, and ever since, his poor heart refused to settle. His eyes drifted from the watch on his wrist to the gate in front of him, his throat growing dryer by the second. He wasn’t wearing a tie and his shirt was a larger model, but suddenly, he grew aware of his own breath as it became hard to inflate his lungs.

At that moment, the buzzing of the airport was invading his ears, making it incredibly difficult for him to concentrate. Different voices in different languages were mixing together, and he could feel himself growing anxious, for none of those voices belonged to her. His hands began sweating, his heart paced up and Goddamn it, Sakura, why are you taking so long to retrieve two bags?!

Sasuke was really feeling like an idiot at that moment as he stood just below the yellow sign that read ’Arrivals’. He had been there for at least 40 minutes, waiting for his girlfriend who was expected to come out through those automatic doors any minute now. He was holding a bouquet of flowers he had just bought at one of those refrigerated vending machines, and he hoped he had chosen the right ones.

He was no expert in flowers or anything, but he was almost 100% sure that, at some point, she had mentioned liking the alstroemeria, so he ended up picking that bouquet. They were white with a dusty shade of red, and for some reason, he liked to believe they were quite fitting for welcoming his girlfriend home.

It had been almost 7 months since he had last seen her pretty, green eyes. She was crying on that day, saying how much she would miss him and everyone else, and how he would better pick up the phone whenever she called him, despite the different time-zones. As a doctor, she had been offered a chance to work overseas in a small hospital for disadvantaged communities, and she couldn’t find it in herself to say no. Ever since she graduated from med school, he remembered how much she wanted to help those in need, and even if it would take her away for a couple of months, there was no way he could not support her.

She had worked very hard for that, and finally, she was given a chance. He could never stand between her and her dreams, and even if he would miss her, Sasuke had to let her go. Not forever, of course, but for the longest 6 months and 23 days of his life. Some days were lonelier than others, especially when she didn’t really pick up her phone, but at last, she was back where she belonged.

Haruno Sakura was home. And even if he was able to withstand so long without her, those last minutes were putting his self-control to test.

Sasuke was growing impatient now, his right foot tapping rhythmically against the floor. He looked around one more time before deciding to check his wristwatch, and he grew angrier when he realized it had barely passed 3 minutes since he had last checked. He glared at the pointers, as if threatening them for not moving fast enough, and that was when he realized he had to calm down. That would be the first time they would be seeing each other after so long, and by no means could he welcome her with a bothered face.

He took a deep breath, then, closing his eyes for an instance as if to allow the anger in his system to dissipate. Mentally, he counted up to 10, and slowly, he opened his dark orbs again. He was feeling a bit better now, and for a moment, he actually believed he had managed to control his flourishing emotions. Everything was back to normal, as expected from his cool and stoic nature. 

But that normal only lasted until he looked at his watch again just to see that only 1 minute had passed.

Fuck this, he thought, clearly forgetting about all that inner peace he was aiming for. Even if he was very aware of the consequences of trespassing certain areas of the airport, at that moment, Sasuke was actually considering the idea of going all the way to the baggage area so he could do something productive instead of just keep waiting out there.

Yes, that really seemed like a good idea. However, before he could defy the airport security, the automatic doors in front of him opened, and a sea of people started walking out of it. 

The people who stood by his side were now smiling and waving at their loved ones. Eyes were widening in a moment of pure happiness, and he could almost feel how tight they hugged each other. It was a very heartwarming scene, indeed, but the Uchiha just couldn’t find it in himself to care about those strangers. His eyes moved frenetically, searching for his girlfriend in the middle of those nameless faces, and even if he didn’t think it was possible, his heart was beating even faster now. 

She had to be there, he thought. His free hand had now turned into a fist as he moved his head so he could have a clearer view of the people coming through. Some were shorter, others were taller, some were just kids and others walked by hand in hand. There were all kinds of people there, but he only cared about one.

And once he saw that pink hair of hers in the middle of that crowd, a wave of relief hit him, and after so long, it was as if he could finally breath.

As soon as he landed his eyes on her, it was as if a huge weight was lifted from his chest. There she was, at last, and even from afar, he could see the changes in her form. 

Her hair was longer, to the point where she had tied it into a small ponytail, and her bangs were now framing her face. Her skin looked a bit tanned, as if she had been kissed by the sun of the Wind Country, and her green eyes looked even brighter than before. She also looked quite adventurous, wearing a plaid-green shirt, dark jeans and the dark brown tracking-boots they had bought before she left; and at that moment, even without hearing a word from her, Sasuke could tell she was a different woman.

She looked stronger, now, more mature. She was probably tired from the flight, but there was something about the atmosphere around her that made her stand out. That girl looked very different from the one that had left all those months before, but as soon as their eyes connected and she smiled oh-so-tenderly at him, Sasuke could tell she was still the same Sakura�� she was still his Sakura.

And at last, she was home.

When her green orbs saw him, it was possible to see her eyes beaming with joy. She waved vigorously at him, a wide smile spread across her face, and he watched as the backpack behind her started jumping a little when she fastened her pace. Sakura was sure looking like a child at that moment, and even if he would normally act concealed around her, not even he could suppress the soft smile that took over his lips as he slowly waved back. 

He simply observed as she tried her best to make her way towards him, and he couldn’t help but giggle when he saw her trying to dodge an old lady that was walking slowly in front of her. It was obvious that she was in a rush to be with him, and as soon as the path in front of her was clear, the Haruno girl wasted no time before literally running towards him. The wheels on her suitcase were rolling as she quickened her pace, and even though she was just a couple of meters away from him now, he soon realized Sakura showed no intention of stoping.

“Sasuke-kun!” She practically screamed in pure happiness, her eyes set on him with a fierce objective. 

His eyes suddenly widened at her excited approach, and all he could do was brace himself for the impact. Her hands irresponsibly let go of the suitcase, and if not for his good reflexes, it would’ve kept on rolling around the airport. He used his free hand to stop the moving bag, and by the time he returned his attention to the girl, she had already thrown her arms around him in an incredibly tight embrace.

Her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, and he could feel her hot cheeks pressed against his neck. Her hands were pressed against his shoulders, and though he was certainly not expecting her to literally throw herself at him, it didn’t take long before the Uchiha got used to the feeling of having her back in his embrace. His eyes closed, then, finally answering her gesture. 

He wrapped his arm around her, bringing her even closer, as in fear she would disappear. Her scent filled his nostrils and the warmth of her body made him tremble in pure bliss. God, he had missed her. Missed her body, her scent, her voice—just everything about her. They say the absence makes the heart grow fonder and it’s important for lovers to take a break every now and then, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less about what such stupid words. He never wanted to be separated from her again, and every moment they were apart only served for him to miss her even more.

Sasuke wanted to be with her for the rest of his days. And now that he was aware of such feelings, perhaps, he should consider doing something about that once they were back home.

When her grip around him loosened, he carefully placed her back on the ground, and slowly, her pink head lifted so she could look him in the face. Her cheeks were blushing, her eyes were shining and there was a smile spread from ear to ear. Sakura was really happy to see him, and he was certain his own happiness was also stamped on his face. 

“Hey, stranger.” She said, her voice soft and low, his ears delighted by the sound.

“Took you long enough to retrieve your bags.”

“Well, about that…” She giggled. "There was this kid trying to get his own bags, but they were too heavy for him. I had to give him a hand.”

“Tch, aren’t you tired of taking care of random children?” He teased, knowing her kind heart would never be tired of such thing.

“No, not yet.” She chuckled, adjusting the strap of her backpack on her shoulder.

“And how was your flight?”

“Too long! I just couldn’t wait to get home. I don’t think I was able to sleep at all!”

“Once we get home, try to get some sleep, then.”

“I certainly will.” She nodded, still smiling at him. “Oh, Sasuke-kun, It was so good working with those people! Though they thank us for helping them, we are the ones who should be thanking them for teaching us so many things! I have so much to tell you!”

“I can’t wait to hear it.” He said, honestly. “Your hair is longer, too.”

“Yeag, I guess it is.” She started, her fingers softly dancing around her pink locks. “I didn’t have time to cut it, but now that I’m back, I’ll ask Ino to help me with that as soon as I see her. Feels kinda strange, don’t you think?”

“You look great, Sakura.” He smiled at her, his eyes growing fonder. “Really great.”

The blush on her cheeks turned redder, and for a second, her eyes drifted from his. Sasuke watched as they stopped on his left hand, and it took him a couple of seconds to understand what exactly she had set her eyes on.

The flowers, of course.

“What are those?” She asked, curiously, though the answer was obvious.

“I've bought them for you.” He started, offering her the bouquet. She carefully took it from his hands, and when she lifted it near her eyes, he realized that, indeed, he had made the right choice.

“Thank you so much, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura said, her voice trembling in pure emotion. He watched as tears threatened to pool around her eyes, but she wiped them before they even had the chance ruin her face— not that her tears could actually ruin anything. “I love them. They’re beautiful.”

And I love you, he thought, being caught by surprise by his own thoughts. Though he had known it for a while now, the realization would always catch him by surprise.

“I'm glad you liked them.”

“Of course I do!” She chuckled. “I'm so happy to be home!” At that moment, as he saw her smiling with the flowers, Sasuke realized he had been contaminated by her joy. It was an emotional moment between them, and suddenly, he realized he wanted to be honest about his feelings. It felt odd to even think about verbalizing such things— especially since he has always been a man of few words— but he figured the moment asked for something unexpected.

“Sakura.” He started, his voice filled with tenderness and longing. His eyes were locked with hers and at that moment, he felt like he could look at her for hours so he could make up for all the lost time. He cleared his throat, then, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I've missed you. A lot.”

Though the words that came out of his mouth were simple and she could’ve concluded that just by the look in his eyes, listening to him actually saying that melted her heart, and suddenly, her lips started to tremble. Her eyes were turning redder, as if she was about to cry, and she nodded a couple of times before actually parting her lips to answer him. “I've missed you, too, Sasuke-kun. Like, really missed you. And though I loved being there, It’s so good to be finally back. To be finally home, with you.”

As she said those words, her eyes were filled with a mix of innocence and fondness, and if not for all of those people around them, Sasuke would’ve kissed her on the spot. His heart was finally feeling lighter inside his chest, and he could never find the words to describe how that girl made him feel everything so vividly. From the sadness of seeing her go, to the happiness of having her back, she was the one to be blamed for every skipped beat of his heart and for every smile on his face.

When she first left, Sakura took a part of his heart with her, and now that she was back, Sasuke could finally feel himself whole again.

Once more, they were side-by-side, and now—well— they could go back to their wonderful life.

Once more, they could go home together.

“It’s good to have you back, Sakura.”

She wiped a tear that left her eye, a huge smile on her face now. “Thank you for welcoming me.”

“Of course.” He said, picking the handle of her suitcase so he could carry it for her. “Now let’s go home.”

As they smiled at each other, they walked side by side, a little closer than necessary. Just two, young lovers like so many others, finally reunited.

Finally together.

fin.

[zedecksiew]

A Dream About A Haunted House

This afternoon I am napping, and in my nap I dream I am exploring a haunted house.

It is a terrace house, second from a corner lot. Houses on either side of it are brightly-painted, renovated with extensions, automatic gates. But the haunted house itself is dilapidated: mold-stained, broken windows like bruised eyes, a rotted door.

I said "I am exploring" -- actually I am standing outside. Outside its driveway, even. I am too afraid to step inside.

My friends are exploring the house. I can hear my friends' voices; they have reached the second storey of the house.

+

Suddenly my friends are shouting. I hear them rushing down stairs -- down to the first storey, then to the ground floor; then they are flying out the door.

What happened, what happened, I ask my friends.

They are pale and panting. One of them now has a bloodshot eye. "I didn't know a ghost could do that," he says, in a faraway voice.

What happened, what happened, I ask him.

"It got my camera!" says another friend.

The rest are quiet, their shaking hands pulling out their phones, checking WhatsApp or whatever as a reflex, just to recapture some sort of normalcy.

"It's still got my camera!" says my friend. She points at the house.

We all look at the house. Its face has changed completely. Tiled, swept driveway. Fresh lime green paint on the walls. It has new window shutters. It has a sliding grate on its new front door -- shut and padlocked.

+

"I am not letting it have my camera!" my friend says.

She makes a call on her phone. She is telling the person on the other end what has happened. She is asking them for instructions.

"Uh-huh, yep, okay," she says. She starts writing down notes.

I accompany my friend with the bloodshot eye to the neighbouring houses. We are enlisting their help. They are reluctant, of course.

One neighbour hands him a sheaf of Taoist talismanic papers: yellow with red ink.

Another neighbours hands me a hammer.

Yet another neighbour gives me a potted sansevieria and a bath dipper of flower-bath water -- "Pour the water on the plant, and flick its fronds at something you want to bless," the neighbour says.

Okay, I say.

+

My friends are assembling in front of the haunted house again. They have resolved to attempt a re-entry.

"Okay, I know what to do already," says my friend with the missing camera. She grabs the hammer I am holding. "Fuck if I let that thing win!"

My friend with the bloodshot eye nods along with her.

Everybody else follows them up the driveway. I still do not dare follow. I pour my dipper of flower-bath water into my potted sansevieria, shaking it at my friends, sprinkling blessings in liquid form upon them:

Shake, shake, shake --

As my friend with the bloodshot eye leads the way, holding up a piece of yellow, red-inked paper.

Shake, shake, shake --

As my friend with the missing camera rattles the locked grate, then smashes its padlock with her hammer.

Shake, shake, shake.

I watch my friends disappear inside the haunted house, then I start awake.

+++

( Image source: https://www.carousell.com.my/p/wts-double-storey-terrace-house-at-tmn-medan-pj-1074832008/ )

[bloody-bee-tea]

You’re lucky I love you

My first fic for ZhuiYi Week! Day 1 was “Accidental Confession”

Lan Jingyi doesn’t know how he ends up eating with Lan Sizhui and his dads, but he’s certainly not going to complain about it. Eating with them is always an experience.

This evening though, Senior Wei is suspiciously quiet, and it seems like Lan Jingyi is not the only one who notices.

“Is everything alright?” Lan Sizhui asks and carefully nudges Senior Wei.

“What? Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” Wei Wuxian immediately says and Lan Jingyi is delighted to see Hanguang-Jun use his patented ‘don’t bullshit me and tell the truth’-stare on someone else.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whines, “don’t look at me like that, I don’t like it.”

“Then don’t lie,” Lan Wangji gives back and Lan Jingyi has to hide his smile behind his spoon.

The look of betrayal on Wei Wuxian’s face is priceless.

“You betray my very heart and soul,” Wei Wuxian exclaims but Lan Wangji doesn’t even seem phased by that and eventually Wei Wuxian sighs.

“Fine. It’s Wen Ning,” he says and he immediately has the attention of everyone at the table.

Not that they haven’t been paying attention before, it’s just. Wen Ning is special. He’s Lan Sizhui’s only living relative and Wei Wuxian clearly loves him, so that automatically means Lan Wangji cares about him. And Lan Jingyi simply adores the man.

So, yes. Wei Wuxian has everyone’s attention.

“What is it?” Lan Sizhui asks, and Lan Jingyi can see how he’s almost vibrating out of his skin with worry.

Lan Jingyi reaches out and puts his hand on Lan Sizhui’s shoulder, trying to calm him down.

“I got a letter,” Wei Wuxian explains and gets the paper in question out. “He talks about a town being terrorized by ghosts. And I’m just really worried.”

“A whole town?” Lan Jingyi blurts out and Wei Wuxian just nods.

If a whole town is being terrorized then either the spirit must be incredibly strong, or there must be dozens of them.

Lan Jingyi understands why Wei Wuxian is worried.

“You want to help,” Lan Wangji observes and Wei Wuxian shrugs.

“He specifically asked me not to worry, and to not abandon you to your boring duties,” Wei Wuxian says and leans into Lan Wangji.

“I could go,” Lan Sizhui hesitantly starts, but Wei Wuxian immediately sits up.

“Absolutely not! I do not want to have to worry about my son as well!”

Lan Sizhui ducks his head to hide his blush and Lan Jingyi wonders when he’ll ever get over Wei Wuxian calling him that.

But while Lan Sizhui clearly has his fathers fooled, Lan Jingyi sees the calculating glint in his eyes. It’s hard to miss, when you know what to look for, and by the gods, does Lan Jingyi know what to look for. That glint is one of the many reasons he fell in love with Lan Sizhui after all.

“Promise that you won’t go!” Wei Wuxian demands and Lan Sizhui nods, just the barest inclination of his head and Lan Jingyi sighs inwardly.

Lan Sizhui will go after Wen Ning.

They finish their dinner on a quiet note, Wei Wuxian clearly worried, whereas Lan Sizhui pretends to be sulking that he’s not allowed to go after his uncle and Lan Jingyi is the only one who tries to keep the mood up, though his efforts fall mostly flat.

It’s not long before Lan Sizhui excuses himself and Lan Jingyi rushes out after him.

“I’m tired,” Lan Sizhui tell shim. “I’ll go to bed early tonight.”

Lan Jingyi bites his lips, so he doesn’t call Lan Sizhui out on his bullshit in hearing-range of his fathers and simply says: “Fine, me too.”

He damn well knows that Lan Sizhui will go to pack a bag now, and that he’ll be gone by the time midnight rolls around.

Lan Jingyi goes to pack a bag himself. He will not let Lan Sizhui go into danger alone, that’s not the kind of person Lan Jingyi is.

When he sneaks into Lan Sizhui’s room a few hours later, he seems almost ready to leave.

“Sizhui,” Lan Jingyi starts and chuckles when Lan Sizhui jumps before he whirls around.

“What are you doing here?” he demands to know and Lan Jingyi shrugs.

“I know you, Sizhui. You might have your dads fooled, but not me. You’re going after Wen Ning.”

“You can’t stop me,” Lan Sizhui hisses and Lan Jingyi is so surprised he takes a step back.

“Sizhui,” he starts but Lan Sizhui won’t even let him speak.

“No. He’s my only living relative, you know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Lan Jingyi gives back, because it’s hard to forget when he still remembers Lan Sizhui’s flushed face when he told Lan Jingyi about that.

“I have to help him,” Lan Sizhui goes on and marches up to Lan Jingyi.

“Of course you do,” Lan Jingyi agrees again, because, yes, he knows that.

“Then you know you won’t stop me,” Lan Sizhui says, and turns Lan Jingyi around and marches him right back out of his room. “And if you tell my fathers before I’m at a safe distance, I’ll never speak to you again,” he spits out as he slams the door in Lan Jingyi’s face.

Lan Jingyi stares at the wood for a few seconds before he looks down at himself. He’s wearing his robes, not the sleep robes, and he’s carrying his sword and his pouch. How could Lan Sizhui ever think that he wanted to stop him.

Sometimes, Lan Sizhui can be really fucking dense.

Lan Jingyi is waiting just outside the Cloud Recesses for Lan Sizhui, because he figures he has a better chance of surprising him here.

He’s sitting here, in the goddamn cold, his sword ready besides him, waiting for Lan Sizhui to leave, even though he told Senior Wei and Hanguang-Jun he wouldn’t do anything rash.

Lan Jingyi sighs and silently wonders if he’s rubbing off on Lan Sizhui.

It takes Lan Sizhui another five minutes to finally walk up to the gate and Lan Jingyi can’t help the fond smile when he sees him.

Lan Sizhui really would do anything for his family.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Lan Jingyi asks as soon as Lan Sizhui is through the gate and he snickers when Lan Sizhui jumps in surprise.

That’s two in one night. Lan Jingyi should get a price for that.

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui hisses and Lan Jingyi gets off the rock he has been sitting on.

“Sizhui,” he gives back and Lan Sizhui immediately gets this stubborn look on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lan Sizhui wants to know and Lan Jingyi points a finger at himself.

“What I am doing? What about what you’re doing?” he gives back and Lan Sizhui shrugs.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re doing something you promised your dads not to do,” Lan Jingyi gives back and he can see Lan Sizhui flush, even in the dark.

He never liked going back on his word, but helping his family always came first for him, Lan Jingyi knows that. It’s another one of the many reasons why he loves him.

“You won’t stop me. You can’t. I thought we were over that already. If you don’t go out of the way, I will fight you,” Lan Sizhui says, and he sounds determined, but Lan Jingyi can see the slight trembling of his hand, knows that Lan Sizhui doesn’t want to fight him at all.

“Dear gods, how can you be this goddamn fucking stupid, I’m in love with an idiot, why won’t you just listen to me instead of throwing around accusations? I’m here to go with you!” Lan Jingyi declares and thoroughly enjoys the shock on Lan Sizhui’s face.

“You’re in love with me?” Lan Sizhui asks and now it’s Lan Jingyi’s time to stare in shock at him.

Fuck.

He hadn’t meant to say that, never wanted to tell Lan Sizhui at all, actually, because their friendship is too important to Lan Jingyi to threaten it with his stupid feelings.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Lan Jingyi weakly says and looks down on the ground. “You can just pretend you never heard it.”

“But you meant it,” Lan Sizhui says, and it’s not even a question.

And Lan Jingyi can’t lie to him.

“Yes. But you don’t have to—you can just pretend this never happened. I’ll even let you go on your own, just, please, don’t let this change anything.”

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui says and Lan Jingyi hasn’t even looked up fully when Lan Sizhui is already throwing himself at Lan Jingyi.

He’s lucky Lan Jingyi does have good reflexes, otherwise they would have ended up on the floor.

“I love you, too,” Lan Sizhui mumbles into his neck, where he’s still pressing his face into and Lan Jingyi blinks a few times, before the words sink in.

“What?” he still asks, because he needs to hear it again.

“I love you,” Lan Sizhui says again, without hesitation and now the words finally make their way to Lan Jingyi.

He throws his arms around Lan Sizhui and presses him close, relishes in the contact he’s apparently allowed.

“You’re such an idiot,” Lan Jingyi breathes out and Lan Sizhui laughs, bright and happy and Lan Jingyi can’t help but join in.

“We both are,” Lan Sizhui argues, but Lan Jingyi shakes his head.

“Nope, you win, because you honestly thought I’d try to stop you from helping Wen Ning.”

“True,” Lan Sizhui allows and then, regretfully, pulls away from Lan Jingyi. “You really want to help?”

“I always want to help you,” Lan Jingyi says and tugs Lan Sizhui closer to brush a kiss over his lips. “You just have to let me.”

“Okay,” Lan Sizhui agrees.

They leave together.

[fantasiesxwritten]

01 | Unrequited | Surrender

Pairing | Ransom Drysdale x fictional character

Summary | Ransom and Ivy have known each other since childhood. After failed travel plans, Ransom ends up at Ivy’s house, which leads to tension as well as confessions about their past. 

Warnings | Sexual tension, language, anger, and angst

Word Count | 6,915

Note | Ransom is an asshole. The character, Ivy, is an asshole. Things get a little physical between them, and it leads to further physical issues in the future or next installment. If you like this, please like or leave a comment. I’m working on the next part and plan to post soon. 

"Excuse me," I said, shouting and pushing my way through the crowd. I knew I was going to miss this flight, and I had no one to blame but myself. I had to have that extra drink last night. Plus, I refused to fly private despite my family's wishes.

I ran as fast as I could, dodging people and luggage while carrying my own. I reached the gate in time to see the plane taxi away from the airport, sinking my heart. My mother would kill me if I did not make it home in time to cook for her parties to honor the New Year.

Luckily, I had a few days before I technically had to leave New York. I pulled out my phone, shooting off a quick text to smooth over missing the flight. With my eyes on my phone, and not where I walked, I ran smack into someone's back and knocked the wind out of my lungs. Their reflexes were quick, catching me before I fell and righting me on my feet.

"Ivy Aldrich, as I live and breathe," the person said, and I knew that voice. I, however, was not particularly fond of the person attached to that voice.

"Ransom," I said, trying to regain my composure. "What are you doing slumming it in a public airport?" I adjusted my clothes and looked up to see a cocky smirk stretch across his face.

He shrugged, "Sending the latest conquest back to her family after making her call me Daddy all weekend." He said, his smirk turning into a full smile.

"Wow," I said, with a small nod and pursed lips. "Still an asshole, I see." Ransom helped me pick up my luggage and handed it back to me. Hugh Ransom Drysdale did not carry his own bags, let alone those of others.

I've known Ransom since before we could talk. Our families gravitated towards each other because of their financial means and ruthless attitudes. Ransom and I attended the same schools for decades.  We lost touch after high school when I went to Columbia, and Ransom went full trust fund playboy at Harvard. I was grateful for the distance; Ransom was always on my case about something when we were young. I still saw him during family events and holidays occasionally, usually drunk with some socialite pawing at him all night. He, on the other hand, rarely talked to or acknowledged me.

"Why would I change perfection," he said, throwing his hands up with a shrug. I rolled my eyes as we both headed towards the door. Ransom's steps fell in line with mine. "Wait, why are you here?" he said, pulling a bag of candy out of his pocket and offering me some. Still always eating.

"I was supposed to fly home today," I said, taking a handful of his sour candy. "I missed my flight, though. I have to find another one."

Ransom shook his head, "I put, um," he paused and stopped walking. He scratched his head and chuckled, "I put whatever-her-name is on the last flight out. It's supposed to snow. They canceled all flights this morning."

"What," I shouted, causing multiple people to turn around. "Are you serious? I have to get back home. I'm cooking for my mother's dinner. Fuck."

I pulled out my phone and did a quick search, Ransom was right, there were no flights in or out for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow. The earliest flight would make a tight schedule to get the entire dinner prepared. I went down a quick rabbit hole of other modes of transportation and ran into the same issue. I almost forgot about Ransom standing next to me until he tapped my shoulder, scaring me.

"I didn't know you were making the dinner this year," he said as we started walking through the airport again. I looked at him for a moment, confused.

"Ransom, you haven't shown up for it in three years," I said, laughing. "Why would anyone tell you?"

A smile crept across his face, "Aw, you noticed my absence? How sweet."

"It's not hard to notice when the loudest asshole in the room is missing," I said with a chuckle, making his smile vanish.

"That's the second time you've called me an asshole," he said. He stopped walking and grabbed my arm, causing the candy I was holding to fall, "Keep it up, and I'll show you what kind of asshole I can become."

A couple walked by, the guy eyeing us closely. His gaze fell to Ransom's tight grip on my arm. The man gave me a thumbs up, secretly asking me if I was okay. Ransom didn't notice, his glare never left my face. I nodded to the man, giving him a reassuring smile. He shrugged and walked away, seemingly content to leave me alone with a jerk.

I turned my attention to Ransom, "Do not cause a seen in a public airport," I said, reminding him that we were not in a private hanger like we were used to.

Ransom dropped my arm, and we both looked around to see if anyone was watching us. We walked out of the airport in silence with me one step in front of Ransom. I've known about Ransom's hot temper and aggressive nature since we were kids. Every single person who knows him has been on the receiving end. You had two options when Ransom put you in his crosshairs: cower and let him win, or stand up for your self and show him you're not afraid of his little power trips.

I tend to choose the latter.

When we got to the parking lot, I did a quick scan to make sure we were alone. I turned around quickly, spinning on my heel and stopping Ransom in his tracks. Before I could say anything, the automatic doors opened, and more people with canceled flights filled the parking garage. Ransom and I smiled politely until they passed us and were out of earshot.

"I know your whole schtick involves testing how far you can push people," I said, keeping my voice low as people still wandered the parking lot. "But if you think for one moment, I'm going to take your shit, I'd be more than happy to show you how wrong you are."

This is how it always was with Ransom. The people around him were pawns in whatever game he wanted to play. I've held my own with him, though, for decades, and I didn't see that changing any time soon.

Instead of taking a step back and retreating from his personal space, I stood still. I had barely been in the same room as Ransom in the last few years, definitely not this close. There were no words to describe how attractive Ransom was. His jawline was sharp, his eyes a beautiful crisp blue, and his lips were full and pink. Inviting almost. I didn't notice I was staring at his mouth until I saw him smirk. I took a step back, clearing my throat.

"I have to go," I said, retreating slightly. I kicked myself internally for letting Ransom catch me checking him out. I used to have a crush on him growing up. It was natural, giving how good looking he was. And it was just as easy to push the feelings away as we got older when he opened his mouth, and bullshit flowed freely. I turned towards my car, reaching for my key fob when I heard Ransom's footsteps.

"Where are you going," he asked, jogging to catch up with me.

I opened the trunk of my car and heaved my luggage inside, "Home?"

"Boring," he popped a few more candies into his mouth and turned to face me, "I think I'm going to get a hotel room and see what else this city has to offer until it's time to head home." I laughed.

"If they canceled the flights," I said, situating my luggage in the car as Ransom watched. "You're never going to get a hotel room that's up to your standards." I watched the realization I was correct sink in, and his face fall. "How do you not have a place in New York," I asked, closing the trunk and facing him.

"Now, who sounds privileged," he said, his voice flat and his face full of concern.

As much as I would like to see Ransom uncomfortable, stranded in a hotel most would find beautiful, but he found abysmal, I invited him to my brownstone. It was not the contemporary place he was used to, but Ransom could slum it on the Upper Westside for a few days. Besides, my mother would have a fit if she learned I left "Dear Ransom" to struggle. I'm convinced she loves him more than he loves himself, and that was a lot.

"Are you attending the dinner, Ransom," I asked, already regretting my next words as he nodded. "Then get in. You can stay with me until we leave."

"Perfect," Ransom said, his smile wide but fleeting. "Wait, do you live on the upper east or west side?"

I rolled my eyes, "Just get in the damn car."

We made it to my place as the first snowflakes started to fall. I tried giving my staff a warning before I let Ransom loose, but there was no use. Ransom started in on my team instantly. He told them how he wanted to be addressed, then where to put his things, and which rooms needed another sweep through. I put them all out of their misery and sent them home to beat the snow. I might want to kill him by the end, but I could handle Ransom alone for a few days.

"Are you hungry," I asked when Ransom joined me in the kitchen and stood across from me at the island. I grabbed a few items out of the refrigerator to make sandwiches for a quick lunch. 

"Not right now," Ransom said, eyeing his watch. This was suspicious. Ransom always wanted to eat, and at the risk of sounding egotistical, he never turned down a single meal I made over the years. It was the reason why he hopped in my car this afternoon anyway.

I crossed my arms over my body, "Okay, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he said, but his eyes continued to roam between his watch and my driveway.

I snapped to get his attention, "I'm not buying it. What's wrong?"

"I'm just waiting for someone to get here, and she's late," he said, snapping at me. "Can you get off my back?" He walked past me and pulled a twenty-five-year-old bottle of scotch from the cabinet. I didn't even bother to turn around.

"You have a girl meeting you here," I pointed down at the floor. "To my house? What the fuck, Ransom?" I could hear the liquor splashing into the glass, and it sounded like a heavy pour. 

"Are you jealous, he said, I could tell a smile was plastered on his face by the tone of his voice. "It sounds like you're jealous."

I turned to fully face him, "What would I be jealous about, Ransom? I just do not want some stranger in my house tonight!" I said, throwing my hands up in the air.

The doorbell rang before he bothered to respond. I wiped my hands on a towel and followed him to the foyer. Ransom opened the door and pulled who stood outside into a tentative hug. They seemed to know each other well, but his shoulders drooped, betraying his ever-confident persona. There was sadness here. I could feel it. I could see it without seeing the face of the girl buried in Ransom's chest.

Ransom took a step back, and I let out a gasp when it registered just who stood in my entryway.

"Jane," I said. "Wow." She smiled brightly, bringing one to both Ransom and me. She offered a small wave and stepped around Ransom to hug me tightly. Jane looked the same, hell, she even smelled the same. The hug was over as quickly as it started.

Jane took a step back and really studied my face, "Still beautiful, Ivy. And killing it, I see." She motioned to the house around us, laughing slightly.

"Yup, she is," Ransom said, speaking up behind Jane. "Some things never change." He winked at me, and Jane caught it.

"I guess they don't," she said, laughing and pushing Ransom playfully.

"Well," I cleared my throat. "I'm going to let you two talk," I turned to Jane again, "Jane, you are more than welcome to stay for dinner."

Jane hugged me again before disappearing into the house with Ransom. I returned to the kitchen, stunned by what just happened. I hadn't seen Jane Cavanaugh since high school, or 'the accident' as we called it. A classmate decided to throw a party when their parents left town and the who's who of adolescent high society planned to attend. On the way there, Ransom picked up multiple vessels of inebriation. He didn't take anything before climbing into the passenger seat with John, Jane's twin brother. John, on the other hand, washed and Acid tab down with a few swigs of whatever alcohol bottle they decided to open first.

They crashed less than a block away from the party. Ransom walked away with barely a scratch, sober and safe. John died at the scene. A week later, I attended my first funeral. A week after the funeral, The Thrombey/Drysdale clan swept the entire thing under the rug. No one talked about the accident or how Ransom procured alcohol and drugs. Harlon, Ransom's grandfather, made it clear; he believed Ransom was not at fault, and that was all that mattered. The Smiths moved away shortly after that, marked as social pariahs for a situation they did not create. Ransom's level of abrasiveness skyrocketed, and I thought he never looked back.

I returned my attention to the cutting board, trying my best to figure out why Ransom kept in contact with Jane. From my understanding, he and his family were to cut ties with the Smiths. Out of sight, out of mind. Not one to shy away from the truth, I planned to ask him about his relationship with Jane. Were they sleeping together? Had they slept together? I should fling myself into the Hudson for the thoughts. Was I jealous? Was Ransom right?

No. Maybe? Oh, God, help me. 

I poured myself a glass of wine and tried shaking off the thoughts as Ransom emerged from their meeting without Jane. He sat at the breakfast bar in silence, his attention solely on me. He heard the bottles in the fridge clink and asked for one. I handed over a beer, fighting with myself not to ask him about Jane, but I couldn't help it. I asked tentatively if Jane decided to eat with us, already knowing the answer. Surprisingly, Ransom spilled his guts and revealed he and Jane never lost contact. Once Harlon paid off the family with a lump sum, the Smith's blew through the money quickly. After some convincing, Ransom kept in touch with Jane to make sure she got through school and into the job she wanted. They reached out to each other during the holidays, knowing it was hard for the other. I was touched, to say the least.

"What," I asked when I looked up and saw his face. He looked like a little kid about to ask his parents for something expensive.

"I was wondering if you'd make that risotto," he asked, "Like the one you made for Granddad's birthday?"

I looked down at the raw vegetables I already chopped, "You want me to make crab risotto?" I was incredulous. It was the middle of winter. On the east coast. During a snowstorm. All of which Ransom knew. I was already in the process of butchering a chicken to roast. Dinner was supposed to be done in minutes. Unless that is, you were cooking for Ransom Drysdale.

Ransom looked at me, expectantly, "Ransom, I don't have the crab. That dish takes at least forty-five minutes if prepped well." He looked at me as if he knew what I was talking about. He also looked like he needed a win. "You know what, fine," I said, one hand in the air while wiping the other on my apron." If you get the crab, I will make you the risotto."

Ransom called my name about twenty minutes later and reappeared in the kitchen with his hair still damp from his shower. Dressed simply in blue Nike sweats and a white t-shirt, he was one of the most attractive men I'd ever seen. Literally ever. I caught myself stealing glances at him as I moved around the kitchen and decided it was time to knock out the rest of our dinner prep to soak up some of the alcohol.

True to form, Ransom delivered with the crab, having it flown in from God knows where via chopper. I didn't even do that at my restaurants for the most affluent customers. If I didn't have it, you didn't get it. Things were always different in the world of Ransom Drysdale, and you could thank Harlon for that personally.

I could feel Ransom's eyes on me as I moved around the kitchen. I offered to show him how to do what I was doing, but he opted for a seat at the breakfast bar. His gaze pierced a hole through my subconscious as I struggled with a mix of sexual frustration and a resurfacing need for his approval.

I asked if Ransom wanted his meal at the table or the bar where he took up real estate for most of the day. He opted for the living room, informal and in front of the television. I handed him my wine, his scotch, and glasses for the two of us. Thankful I clean the kitchen as I cook, I grabbed our plates and followed after him.

The two of us settled into the couch and decided on a tv show quickly: You. Ransom admitted he never watched the show because it hit too close to home. Growing up, Ransom had the tendency to look into every aspect of his girlfriends' past. To me, I saw nothing wrong with that. Hiring a private investigator was normalized in our youth. We were not allowed to let anyone into our family circle without proper vetting. There was far too much money at stake. Ransom got called a stalker a time or two over the years.

I didn't realize I moved closer to Ransom until he got up to use the restroom, and I had to move. I felt awkward and didn't know what to do when he came back. Ransom made the decision for us, moving my legs and draping them over his as he settled into the couch. Instead of protesting, I let him and leaned into him, enjoying the warmth his body gave off. I rested my head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing my the inseam of my leggings. It had been a long time since I'd been this close to a guy.

"Hey," Ransom said, tapping the inside of my thigh. "I have to tell you something, and you can't get mad at me."

Intrigued, I turned my head slightly to look up at him, "I'm not making any promises." Ransom took a deep breath and rolled his eyes but kept them on the screen, his fingers still working at my inseam.

"You remember that Joe that you dated in school," He asked."

"Yeah," I said, studying his face. Trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this. "We dated for a year, and he ghosted me after the Bacchanal. Why are we talking about him ten years later?"

"Well," he said with a smile spreading across his face. "Joe didn't ghost you. I told him to leave you alone and threatened him at the party."

My jaw fell open, "You did what?" Ransom just shrugged, smile in full effect, face riddled with entitlement. "Why the hell would you do that?" I was, in no way, in love with Joe. I hadn't even thought of the guy since high school. I just could not believe that Ransom would step over boundaries in that way.

Who the fuck was I kidding? This is Ransom Drysdale. Why was I surprised?

"Because I liked you, and he wasn't good enough for you," He said it so matter of fact as if it was common knowledge. He glanced over at me, eyebrow raised, "Why do you look so shocked? You must have known."

"I didn't," I said, shaking my head. "I had no clue. It's not like you were nice or weren't fucking everything that moved."

Ransom's eyes flicked back to the screen, "I was nice to you. You just thought I was an asshole. Like everyone else." Everyone else. That hurt him. There was undeniable sadness at the end of that sentence. And as quickly as this vulnerable side appeared, it disappeared just as fast. His fingers started back up again, trailing up and down my thigh lazily.

I went to move my legs so I can turn to face him fully, but he applied pressure, holding me in place. He finally looked at me, I mean, really looked at me. The combination of Ransom's hand on my thigh, the alcohol, and the look he was giving me had me spinning. His hand was warm and heavy. I wanted it off of me. But then, at the same time, I wanted to feel that same hand all over my body.

Okay. That was definitely enough wine for me.

"Ransom," I said, placing my hand on his to stop him from stroking my leg. It was distracting, and I couldn't think. I needed to think. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

He nodded towards the tv, "You. The guy's name is Joe in the show. It made me think of the past. Also, liquid courage helped."

He smiled, and it was contagious. He leaned in slightly. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, but all I could think about was his mouth on mine. On my neck. On every part of me. I pulled away slightly, trying to shake off the warm hazy feeling clouding my judgment.

"I am not fucking you, Ransom," I placed a hand on his cheek, tapping it slightly. "You just fucked a girl yesterday. Treated her like a slut, I'm assuming. Then you sent her on her way, and you don't even remember her name."

"This morning, actually." He said shrugging.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes with disgust, "You are not helping your case, Ransom."

"Are you jealous again," He asked, his heavy hand back on my thigh, his fingers traveling higher and higher, leaving my body aching for more. Ransom was getting a kick out of this and leaned in again. His lips were practically on my neck, his breath warm and steady. I rested my hand on his chest, but I decided not to resist. I wanted to know how far he planned on taking this little game of his. I wanted to see how far I planned on letting him go.

"Do you want me to do the same things to you," His voice was low and soft, and his hands were practically between my legs, exactly where I wanted them to be. Well, almost. "Do you want me to treat you like a slut?"

"What do you want to do to me," I asked, leaning into Ransom's body more. He liked it that, but still refused to put his lips on me entirely, opting to graze my neck as he mulled over my question.

He brushed my hair off me should and out of his way, "Oh, I intend to do just that if you'll let me." Ransom brought his lips to my collarbone and paused, "But, I think I'll take my time at first."

Ransom placed the softest kiss on my collar, surprising me and causing me to jump slightly and moan. That was all the encouragement Ransom needed. He peppered my neck with light kisses, his lips soft and light. I let Ransom push me back on the couch, and his lips finally found mine. I could taste the whiskey I smelled on him. I enjoyed feeling Ransom's body on top of mine. He made me feel small and tiny. His hands explored my body, gripping my thighs, dipping underneath my sweater and grazing my skin. It didn't take long for my hands to do their own search as well. I wanted to touch all of him just as much as he wanted his hands on me. He moaned when I pulled his hair hard, exposing his neck so I could leave a trail of kisses of my own.

Ransom's phone buzzed in his pocket. We both tried our best to ignore it until the buzzing became nonstop. Frustrated, Ransom groaned into my mouth before fishing the phone from his pocket. His face twisting up when he saw the notifications.

"Who is it," I asked, still trying to catch my breath. I tugged on the bottom of Ransom's t-shirt, wanting his attention again.

"My mother. She wants to know about the party," he said, I dropped my grip on his clothing. If there was ever a mood killer, it was Linda fucking Drysdale.

Ransom noticed me adjusting my sweater and swatted my hand away. He sent a quick message to his mother, confirming his plan to attend the party. There was no backing out of that one now. Ransom slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned his attention to me, placing himself between my legs. The touching and kissing started back up again instantly. His hands roamed my body with no hesitation, and it took everything in me to fight the fuzzy feeling. I stopped him, cupping his face and making him look at me.

"We are not having sex, Ransom," I said softly, running my thumb over his lips. "I don't want to get you worked up." He let his head fall against my thigh, I could feel his breath through my leggings.

He lifted his head, "I'm already worked up." He groaned quietly, sneaking a few kisses on my thighs before reaching up and landing a few kisses on my lips.

Ransom helped me sit up, "I'm just happy you responded the way you did, and you didn't call me an asshole."

"You are an asshole," I said, smirking when he shot me a look. "But, I had a crush on you while we were growing up too."

"Why didn't you say something back then," he asked. "You're not one to hold your tongue."

I shrugged, "You literally had sex with half of our classmates. You had sex this morning with another girl, and here you are, confessing unrequited feeling from years ago."

"Oh, would you forget about that girl already," Ransom said, turning away from me. "I already have."

"Yeah, really encouraging." I couldn't help but chuckle. "When's the last time you've been tested? How many women are you currently sleeping with? When's the last time you actually took someone on a date?

Ransom turned towards me, "I got tested right before whats-her-name. I'm clean for the record. Always have been, and God willing, I always will be." His face was flushed, and his words came out clipped. I pissed him off, but he continued. "I'm not sleeping with anyone actually, contrary to what you think, I don't have a harem of women I'm rotating through. And I do not like getting grilled."

"What about dates," I asked again, not letting him skirt the question. He was already upset, asking one more thing couldn't make it any worse.

He threw his hands up in frustration, "I've been on plenty of dates. Are you done slut-shaming me now?"

"Okay, let's call it a night," I said, standing. "It's late, we're frustrated, and I have to wake up early tomorrow." I stacked our bowls and started making my way to the kitchen. After a quick rinse, I loaded the dishwasher and decided I was going to my room. I was still tingly from feeling Ransom's body on mine. His lips on mine. When I passed the living room, Ransom called my name, waving my phone in the air. He reached for my hand instead of handing it over.

"Don't be mad at me," his voice was softer than before, but you could tell he was still irritated.

"I'm not mad at you, Ransom, I didn't mean to piss you off."

"I'm not pissed either. This is just not how I saw this day going," he said with a sigh. "And I was so close to having you. My dick is hard, and I can't think straight right now."

I ran my thumb over his knuckles, "Then do it the right way. Take me on a real date."

"Why," he asked, looking up at me finally. "We have known each other since we were babies. You already know me by now."

I shook my head, "Um, no. Knowing you still take care of Jane shows me you have a softer side you've kept hidden. So," I said, leaning down, "If you want to fuck me, and if you want to have me, you have to date me.

A smirk appeared across his face, "I'll do whatever you ask me to."

"We both know that's a lie," I laughed, and Ransom did too before he let go of my hand. I kissed him quickly, without thinking, and didn't let him pull me into another situation.

I left Ransom on the couch and went upstairs, still buzzing about what just happened. This whole day was wild. Brief flashes of Ransom's hands and mouth on my body kept me tingly and on edge. I took a quick shower, opting for just a t-shirt and underwear. With Ransom somewhere in the house, the last thing I wanted was to run into him in the hall with no clothes on. Come to think of it, I didn't even know what room Ransom picked.

I turned the lights off, and the tv on, but I couldn't focus on anything other than Ransom. What would have happened if I had another glass of wine? Would I have let him fuck me on the couch? I reached for a pillow and stuffed it between my legs. I rolled my hips against it, moaning instantly as the fabric slid against my aching clit. I rocked back and forth, growing faster and faster, chasing the release I desperately needed. I gripped the pillow tightly with my thighs and rolled over, straddling it. I thought of Ransom's hands on my body, in my hair while I begged him to fuck me harder. I trailed my hands up and down my body, but it didn't feel the same. I wanted him. His hands. His roughness. His cock. I sped up the pace as I grew more desperate to cum, Ransom's name quietly rolling from my lips over and over again. I threw my head back, my humps becoming more pathetic as I felt the pressure building in my stomach. I bit down on my knuckle to hide the moans as I tumbled over the edge, and relief washed over me. I rode it out until I couldn't sit up anymore. I let myself fall to the bed, and allowed my fatigue to consume me.

The next morning, I started early with prepping for the drive to Massachusetts and dinner. Between Rachel and me, we were moving at a steady pace, and the car was almost packed. I wanted Rachel driving ahead of Ransom and me; I would not subject that poor girl to a three-hour car ride with him.

"Oh," he said, looking over at Rachel. "You're not alone." Clearly intimidated, Rachel began gathering her belongings.

"Would you like me to make you breakfast before I go, Ransom?"

I cut Ransom off before he could respond, "I've got it, Rachel. I've already started his breakfast." Ransom raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. I gently ushered her out of the kitchen and quietly reminded her of the way Ransom likes for staff to address him.

I turned to face Ransom, "Do not treat my staff poorly. And do not start any shit today, Ransom." I watched as a slow smirk stretched across his face, causing me to reissue my threat. He held up his hand in mock defeat earning an eye roll from me.

"Can you make me-" I didn't stop moving. Ransom and I still needed to get ready and get on the road. I let him sleep longer than I should, and I'll hear about it for hours if we're late.

I shook my head, cutting him off, "I already started your breakfast. I made you crab eggs benedict."

"Making my favorite meal," he asked. I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I placed the plate down in front of him, "Please, do not flatter yourself. I didn't want the crab going bad while we're out of town." I quickly washed the pans and ditched my apron. "What do you think," I asked over my shoulder as I finished wiping the counters.

"It was perfect," Ransom's voice scared me. I had no idea he had finished, let alone walked up behind me. He placed his plate in the sink and lingered as I washed it.

"What," I asked, turning to face him. Dressed in blue jeans and a chunky sweater, he looked as handsome as ever.

He trailed a finger up and down my arm. I expected to see a smirk or smile, but I could not pinpoint his mood or where this conversation was going.

"So, last night," Ransom said, trailing off slightly. I wanted to cut him off, tell him he didn't have to tell me he regretted it or blamed it on being drunk. I had already cut him off twice, and he didn't seem upset. I figured it was better to not push my luck before a road trip.

"I heard you last night," he said and continued when I gave him a puzzled look. "In your room. I heard you moaning."

My mouth fell open, but I remained silent. I felt my entire body heat up with embarrassment. How the fuck could I forget to check which room Ransom was in. Ransom was not the kind of man to let this go, and he relished in the embarrassment he caused in others. What did he hear, and more importantly, what did he plan to do with that information?

He stepped closer to me; his cologne filled my nose, "Do you want to know my favorite part?" I nodded, I was curious, I still couldn't force my brain to process real words. Ransom placed his hand on my hips, pinning me between him and the sink, "You were moaning for me." He moved one hand up my body slowly and placed it around my neck. Thank God he didn't squeeze, that would have ended me. He kept one hand firmly on my waist, holding me exactly where he wanted. He lifted my chin and shot me a smirk before his lips touched my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, and I moaned softly.

"Close," Ransom said with a chuckled. "That's not my favorite part of what I heard last night." He returned to placing soft, but deliberate kisses across my neck, this time tightening his grip.

"Ransom," I said, my voice coming out more like a whine. He was practically holding me up at this point.

He pulled away slightly, "There it is. Good Girl." He said as he kissed my forehead.

The door leading to the garage opened, and I heard a gasp. I looked past Ransom's body and saw Rachel standing there with her mouth agape. Ransom did not release me, he simply loosened his grip on my neck, making it easier for me to speak. I hoped.

"What do you need, Rachel," I wondered, clearing my throat and finding my voice again. "I thought you left already."

"Your mother wants to borrow one of your coats. She called me and insisted I turned around." She tried her best to ignore what she was seeing and remain professional. I nodded, but Ransom beat me to the punch, speaking for me.

"Grab the coat and get the fuck out," Rachel spun on her heels and disappeared without another word. Ransom returned his attention to me, leaning in for more.

I tried pushing Ransom away, "Do not talk to her that way." My tone came out colder than I anticipated, especially for how fuzzy I still felt. "I don't treat my staff the way your fucking family does."

"Oh, come on, Ivy," Ransom said with a groan. "Don't be mad at me."

I dodged his kisses again, "Apologize before we leave, Ransom."

"Oh, fuck that," He said with a laugh, his body still pressed up against mine. He took his hand from my neck and pointed at himself, "I do not apologize."

I slipped away from him, "Well, you're about to." Ransom reached out, and I was suddenly in the same position, my small frame feeling the weight of Ransom pressing into me.

"I'm sorry, Ivy," he said. He did not fucking mean it, but he said it. "I just didn't want someone else interrupting us. Again."

"Apologize to Rachel, Ransom." He looked at me like I had four heads with 3 eyes apiece.

This time he was the one to step away, "I am not apologizing to the fucking help." He was such an asshole.

"You will apologize to Rachel," I said. "She helped you. She helps me. She did not sign on to deal with your arrogant and entitled ass. Just say you're sorry before we leave." I turned to walk away, and Ransom stopped me again this time by the arm, pulling me close to him.

"If you make me apologize to your staff," he said, the disdain evident in his voice, "You will regret it later. I promise you."

"If that's how you want to play it," I said with a smile, "Then, by all means, let the games begin." He let my arm go, a scowl plastered on his face. I heard him call out for Rachel, his voice booming throughout the townhouse. I left Ransom to figure out his apology on his own and made my way to the car.

 I didn't know what the hell was going on between Ransom and me, or what we would decide to do about this attraction. There was bound to be drama tonight now that he had to apologize. Having Rachel drive separately was the best decision I made in days. I could not let her think I'd allow Ransom to treat her that way. While my family had their own issues, The Thrombey/Drysdale family was the worst. Ransom was close to his grandfather, but everyone else treated him as if he didn't belong.

Ransom stormed out of the house with Rachel scurrying past her. I figured I would check in with her once we got back to Boston. She knew how the Thrombeys were, but Ransom was a new terror. I watched as he walked past the passenger seat and made his way to my door.

He opened the door roughly, "Get out, I'm driving."

"Absolutely not," I shook my head and reached for the door. "You are way too angry."

Ransom explained how driving helped calm him down, and it was in everyone's best interest if he didn't show up at the party angry. I could not argue with that. We switched seats and started the drive in silence. Until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Ransom, you cannot be this upset you had to apologize to Rachel," I said. "She's nice and accommodating, just leave her alone and she'll stay out of your way."

To my surprise, Ransom laughed, "I'm not worried about Rachel anymore. He kept his eyes on the road as he continued, "You're the one that embarrassed me. I'll just have to embarrass you too."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Ransom," I said, watching a smug smirk pop up. "Do not ruin this dinner because you want to be petty."

"I don't care about the dinner, Ivy," he said. "But you'll have my undivided attention tonight.

I eyed him carefully, but his attention remained on driving. I swear to God, if one thing went wrong at this dinner, I'd burn that ugly gothic house to the ground. Ransom made me jump when he draped his hand in his lap. He squeezed my thigh then returned to lightly rubbing it, causing the tingly feeling to come back.

Then it dawned on me. That's what Ransom wanted, exactly what he wanted. He wanted me flustered and embarrassed, and my attention on him. Well, two can play that game, and I can play it well. I settled into my seat, head back, and eyes closed. I didn't get much sleep last night, and apparently, I needed to be on my A-game.

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard - Chapter Fifty-three “Dead end”

Hello everybody, how are you? Here is chapter Fifty-three of my Story Bodyguard, yay!! I hope you will like this chapter.

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

                   –––––––––––––––––––––––

- I hope that it will work, Mer… I have no other way anyway… hurry up… I have to find a source of funding, otherwise, I will have to delay or cancel the construction of the home…

.

Amelia has been in the corner of the living room on the phone with her manager for a few minutes.

I wait wisely letting my gaze stop on the elements near me in the room.

I came back to this apartment with a strange feeling: I didn’t feel like I was in my place yet. To belong to this place.

I was trying to find my markers and my automatisms alongside Amelia.

Her attitude was, however, a little more distant than before: she often avoided my gaze, isolated herself as soon as possible. As if she had a course of action in mind that she set out to apply. Maybe I was having ideas, or I was just more sensitive to the least of her reactions… the fact remains that a host of contrasting sensations mingled when I return as Amelia Shepherd’s bodyguard.

.

My eyes get lost around me when I suddenly make out o CD cover that calls out to me, placed near the player.

How could it be there?

I approach it automatically and my fingers slide on it.

I caress this piece of plastic with my fingertips and I recognize my handwriting on the sheet of paper that is used for cover.

I open the case, but no CD inside… would she have listened to it?

This disc was so special to me… which allowed me to not be overwhelmed at certain moments of my life… but by what miracle did I then have it in my hand?

- Ok, I got a text from Jackson, he’s going to spend the afternoon at the hospital with April, we will be able to go, I am reassured to know that April is surrounded, Amelia informs me, approaching me. I hope he will boost her, for her physiotherapy exercises…

I turn my back on her, still focused on my discovery.

I can see her presence on the side, her shadow growing near me.

- You can enlighten me… this CD… how come it is here?

- It was a surprise that I discovered when I finished unpacking the boxes from the chalet two days ago, she replies.

In her voice, a soft and calm tone calls out of me. Like a veil of tenderness.

And a suddenly more relaxed attitude which takes hold of her at the mention of the CD.

Almost an Amelia who metamorphoses before me.

- There was an envelope in one of them that I hadn’t paid attention to and that slipped to the bottom when I removed the clothes. There was a little post on it that said: "to keep some of this haven of peace"… signed by Rosie.

I smile while listening to Amelia’s explanation.

It looked like spitting Rosie.

She knew what this cd meant to me… she thought having it with me would be more useful than being locked in a closet.

- I think that she had to undo one of the packages to add this disc before sending them… Amelia concludes.

- Yes, Rosie is full of resources, I add, keeping my smile. You… did you listen to it? I asked a little feverish. 

Amelia stares the plastic case, hesitates for a few seconds, then decides to answer me with a smile on her lips. Frank and spontaneous. 

One of the first I observe since our reunion.

A show that fascinates me.

- With a title like "Hunt’s symphony" how did you want me to resist… it’s a wonder this cd, I never tire of it for two days…

I remain silent listening to her answer. 

This cd indeed contained a series of titles sung by my parents, some songs that I had recorded myself with my father when I was still a teenager… and a song that I had written especially for him… a bit later…

- Your mother’s voice is overwhelming… I guess it’s your father accompanying her…

I nod while the echoes of the melodies of the cd echo in my head.

I am surprised that Amelia develops her impressions and does not immediately end this exchange, but I welcome her words carefully.

- You have a great voice too, but I already told you… I truly like the title "goodbye"… which seems to stand the test of your father’s death… but my favorite is the duo of your parents… it made me dream…

This song that she evokes, it allowed me to keep my head above the water.

To defeat my demons.

It was sacred to me… a song that we don’t touch and that I was unable to sing or even hum… this title has been repeated thousands of times, by many different artists, but for me, it was only my parents who were legitimate to sing it: two beings madly in love with each other… forever.

I would never know that for my part.

- Their cover is magnificent, we perceive all the love that emerges from both… I understand better when you told me about little things that allow us to keep in ourselves the people we love, to make them live and resonate inside us. Is it that song for you?

- You got it right… I weakly confirmed.

- It’s a great declaration of love to sing this song like this… they were really in love with each other… in love and happy…

She stares at me intensely at the end of her comment and our eyes remain connected for long seconds. At this moment, strangely, Amelia doesn’t dodge this silent exchange.

She stays focused and fixed on me.

The moment is destabilizing, I perceive electricity vibrating between us… my old reflexes are expressed again: this chemistry suddenly makes me uncomfortable and leads me to finally look away.

I clear my throat slightly to break the connection.

- Uh… are you ready… can we go?

She takes a few seconds, then sighs quickly confirming to me that she reluctantly goes to this meeting.

- Yes, let’s go, she says. Let it be behind me… I don’t like being trapped in a situation, having no choice but to ask for help… from the last person on my list…

She retrieves a leather jacket, which she quickly wears while tying a light scarf around her neck.

I imitate her and also put on a leather jacket over my suit, then grab my crash helmets and give her hers. Jackson is no longer available, I decided to take her on a motorcycle. This vehicle was also much more practical than a car to escape a possible chase.

We leave the apartment in a few minutes and find the motorbike parked a few steps down in the street.

- Can you remind me of the address, please? 

- Uh… you take the direction of Bellevue, the domain address should be indicated next…

I nod my head at her directions and help her fasten her crash helmet securely, as she struggles with the fastener.

I put my crash helmet on and put myself on the motorcycle first.

I take a hand from Amelia and help her sit behind me, stepping over the mount.

I give her a few seconds to find the ideal position, well wedged behind me, and I turn the key.

I turn my head slightly towards her to give her one last instruction before I start.

- Above all, you hold me well, in all circumstances…

She does not answer but supports my request when I feel her arms tighten tightly and her hands cross against my stomach.

.

Thirty-five-minute drive later, we arrive near Bellevue and I notice a sign effectively designating a domain.

Amelia points her finger at me and tells me in a loud voice behind me: "it’s over there!".

I then scrupulously follow the other signs and after a few minutes, we enter a large paved alley, bordered by plane trees: it thus leads to an immense wrought-iron portal, beyond which there is an imposing building… a castle…

I have to stop in front of the closed gate. 

Amelia gets off the motorcycle and removes her crash helmet while approaching a case that looks like an intercom.

- Does he know you were coming? I ask, letting my voice carry beyond the helmet and worrying that entry will be denied. 

- No… I preferred not to warn him to prevent it from lasting too long… I have no desire to get stuck here for several hours.

She presses a button unlaid in the case and a female voice eventually rises.

- Yes, hello, can you announce and indicate the subject of your visit?

The question is of a rather surprising formality which makes me smile slightly.

- Hello, I’m Amelia Shepherd, I’m coming to see Alex Karev.

- Do you have an appointment?

- Yes, he is waiting for me…

Amelia’s response is pronounced without hesitation and proves effective when we perceive the portal to open gradually.

- I didn’t know you were such a good liar.

- It’s not quite a lie, since the time he makes it easy for me… she says while putting on her crash helmet and sitting again behind me.

I restart at low speed and enter the domain.

We drive for a few meters before I cut off contact, in front of the large castle door in front of us.

We both get off the bike and take off our helmets. I rid Amelia of this accessory which I place on the motorbike and she hastens to move her head vigorously to replace her hair.

A creak awakens behind us and I turn my head: a silhouette takes shape in the doorway… a male silhouette descending the steps to meet us.

And a face that I recognize immediately.

- Amelia, what a pleasure to see you! He announces with enthusiasm.

Amelia faces him quickly and gives him a big smile… an attitude the complete opposite of what I had observed during the evening for her foundation where she had done everything to avoid him.

But I’m not fooled: I know she is playing a role right now.

She did not come here for pleasure but forced to finance her project.

- Hello Alex, excuse me, I come to see you without warning, but I wanted to speak with you on a very important… and an urgent subject…

- There is no problem, he says with a smile. I have no particular constraints and my parents are traveling… besides, I was expecting a bit of your coming, I think I know what you want to talk to me about, I had a few comments…

I perceive Amelia tense up near me, uncomfortable by understanding that Alex has a very precise idea of the purpose of her visit.

I remain surprised to hear him say that he still lives in this domain with his family: he was however at least 35 years old. But apparently in families of this stature, the blood ties are different and dissipate less quickly: an inheritance and a fortune to be managed seem to give rise to certain duties.

- By the way, I heard the sad news that your friend April had a serious accident, I hope everything is fine? He inquires in a soft and compassionate voice.

- She is recovering slowly, but she is in good hands, thank you for caring, Amelia answers weakly, looking down.

A presence is suddenly guessed behind the host of the house: a young woman, dressed in a strict suit.

- Sir, are you sure I should leave you? My service should not end in two hours, she announces shyly, a little embarrassed.

- Yes, Marie, as I just told you, take your afternoon. I don’t need you anymore… he confirms without looking at the one who turns out to be a housekeeper.

- Alright sir, see you tomorrow.

She advances a little more, nods respectfully, and joins a small car, parked a few meters away.

I feel a piercing look at me and quickly notice that Alex is watching me intensely.

- We weren’t introduced, I believe, he says, holding out a hand.

I shake his hand firmly while perceiving the voice of Amelia by our side.

- Alex, I present to you… Jackson. He’s a musician friend, he kindly wanted to drive me to your house, because my driver is sick.

I listen to Amelia’s words, a little surprised that she doesn’t reveal my true identity, but I don’t let anything show through.

She was probably afraid that Alex would recognize me…

He indeed stares at me intensely as if he was studying each feature of my face precisely. 

But he ends up turning his face and tearing his hand away from mine, addressing Amelia again.

- I suggest you come in, Amelia… Jackson, you can park your motorcycle in the garage, there are threatening clouds coming. I think it would be more prudent.

I take a look at the sky and note that it has largely darkened, raising fears of an impending storm.

- Thank you very much, my motorcycle will appreciate, I answer with a weak smile to reduce the tension that I perceived between us.

- I’m going to open it from the inside, it’s the brown door that you see 100 meters in front of you.

- Alright, thank you, I answer politely.

- Amelia, please, come in, he says placing a hand behind Amelia’s back and guiding her up the stairs.

I take a last look at Amelia who is looking for my eyes before turning around one last time: I read in this look all the weariness that already inhabits her… she was forcing herself to ask for his help.

I place my hands on the handlebars of the motorcycle, helmet in hand and the other hanging on the handlebars, and advance to the section of the domain indicated by Alex.

The door opening is engaged, I hear behind me: I can see the brown door rise and gradually reveal a car body.

I turn around towards the entrance of the castle but it is a closed-door that already faces me whereas Alex and Amelia entered inside.

I arrive at the entrance to the garage, the automatic door is completely raised from now on.

.

I take a few steps in the place that has just been revealed to me while guiding my motorbike: the surface of the room impresses me directly. It’s not just a garage, it’s almost a whole ground floor full of cars.

I go a little further and scan the different vehicles around me, lit by several neon lights installed on the ceiling: Rolls Royces, vintage cars, Porsches, legendary American cars, 4x4…

I try to find a place for my motorcycle and find the ideal place in a corner at the back of the room, facing me. I push my motorcycle carefully, sneaking between a Rolls Royce and an old Cadillac, then set it aside by operation the kickstand. 

I can’t help but quickly glance at all these cares with sparkling bodies again, giving me a quick tour of the different models almost installed here on display.

Questions are promptly asked during my contemplation.

What does life in an environment of this nature look like? 

An everyday life where you can have everything you want, where everything is accessible?

Do we still only have dreams?

Is that enough to be happy?

Experience had shown me the opposite: all the artists I had encountered, some of whom could, in the same way, afford everything they wanted, were mostly tortured, neurotic, and alone… deeply alone.

I instinctively think of my parents, of my conversation with Amelia a few hours earlier at the apartment: happiness is not just a garage full of luxury cars… happiness is as simple as sharing a song…

I didn’t know Alex and yet I was sure of one thing: this man had everything he wanted, but he lacked the most important… what it takes to be happy.

My thoughts fade when my attention suddenly stops on a vehicle.

The front bumper is damaged and spots of color intrigue me.

I kneel and distinguish shiny traces on the body… my piqued curiosity, I slide my finger there.

The sensation allows me to define more precisely the substance: it is not painting, it is more fluid than a chemical component… sliding easily on my finger and dressing it in a bright red color…

My heart suddenly accelerates by identifying this liquid on my skin…

I lean a little more, to observe the license plate as if by reflex.

But I’m going wrong: this plate is quite usual with a series of numbers and letters.

And yet… I keep this disturbing intuition in the back of my mind.

Something suddenly strikes me when the elements making up the registration number do not seem perfectly straight and aligned to me.

I touch the piece of metal, nothing abnormal… although, by scrutinizing the metal plate a little more precisely, I discern two very distinct shades of white: the one near the edges is less vivid, more beige than white.

My fingers roam the expanse of metal and I surprisingly perceive an edged revealing itself under my skin as a junction.

An edge.

My fingers grip it and so I detach with surprise the license place. It is a magnetic section that can be applied and removed just as easily.

I watch the object in my hand in disbelief: a removable license plate, this is not something common on the market…

I feel the tension increase in me and I end up looking down again at what this plate hid: what appears before my eyes, doesn’t surprise me, but confirms all the suspicions that were beginning to be expressed deep inside me. 

Because of no letters or numbers on the real plate of this car… of this matt black 4x4… just a sign, a symbol that I have long looked for in the streets of Seattle… which I recognized with horror on the evening of Amelia’s concert.

It is there in a few inches from my eyes: this mysterious Ferry Boat which has haunted me for many weeks.

.

Amelia…

A name that invades my mind… that repeats itself with the rhythm of my heartbeat and the intensity of my pulsations.

Without knowing it, I just lead her straight into the nets of our worst enemy…

I have to find her as soon as possible.

A click sounds as I sit up, ready to pounce, and the darkness suddenly surrounds me.

No more light in the room and a metallic noise echoes simultaneously.

My eyes are destabilized by the sudden darkness and I lose the space of a few seconds my bearings.

I groped my way along against the cars to head for the door.

This metallic noise… it seems familiar to me and I realize that it corresponds to the mechanism of the door. But this time, it marks the closing of the garage entrance…

An adrenaline rush spreads throughout my body and mobilizes all my senses in a fraction of a second. My vision quickly adapts to the low light and I note with fright that the door is already half-closed.

I move as fast as I can, in a fight against the mechanics.

I slide on the hood of a car to gain ground, but I watch helplessly the rapid descent from the entrance to the garage.

I’m just a few steps away, I run without paying attention to the shocks against my legs as I hit vehicles. My heart is pounding under the intense effort and tension that assail me. I finally reach this automatic door… but only a handful of free centimeters, too little for me to sneak…

.

A deaf clatter rises after a few seconds.

The entrance just closed completely in front of me.

.

I am trapped in this garage.

The fault of my lack of speed.

The fault after a few seconds of hesitation and reflection… very useless. I can only blame myself. And the tension turns into nervousness against myself… then into sharp and guilty anxiety.

Amelia is only a few meters away and yet I can’t reach her.

.

Here I am stuck… in an impossible situation…

Like the ultimate twit to a bad disaster movie.

What’s worse for a bodyguard than being away from the one he must protect…

What could be worse for me than being helpless, facing this closed door, being fully aware from now on that Amelia is in the greatest danger.

One of my fists violently hits this metal wall in front of me.

A deaf sound pierces the silence that surrounds me.

.

Behind this gate.

In the castle.

What is going on?

Does he intend to harm her?

Is she safe and sound? Injured? Sequestered?

.

Because Amelia is alone…

.

Not with Alex Karev, heir, and privileged donor of the singer’s foundation.

.

But with the man who has been harassing her for months.

.

The author of the threats, destabilizations which have marked these last months.

.

The crazy who inscribed this veil of terror and anguish that now dresses the singer’s face and eyes.

.

The monster, responsible for the dramas that clouded her life…

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Thank you for reading. Have a great week 💛

[tsuki-chibi]

Passionfruit (November) Day 6: Wreck

Read it all on AO3: Passionfruit

————

Adrien stared at the little black creature with open fascination, trying to take it all in. In the back of his mind, he could feel the buzz of Marinette’s confusion and wonder and fright. He tried to reach back with reassurance, while also focusing the majority of his attention on Plagg and the frankly ridiculous things Plagg was saying.

‘What the hell is this?!’ Marinette thought, loudly enough that Adrien winced. She pushed an image of a little red creature with black spots and blue eyes at him so violently that Adrien gasped.

“I know, I’m amazing right?” the creature - no, Plagg, said smugly. “Now listen to me, kid. You’ve been chosen.”

“Chosen. Right,” Adrien said skeptically. He focused hard on the green eyes, black cat ears, and black tail and pushed an image of Plagg back to Marinette.

‘Oh my god, you have one too!’ Marinette thought hysterically. And then, with a pout, she added, ‘No fair. Yours is way cuter.’

“Don’t be so skeptical,” Plagg said.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I am literally trapped in my room right now,” Adrien told him. “I can’t leave even if I wanted to, not without a bodyguard following me step for step. What good is a superhero who can’t even leave the house when there’s a problem?”

Plagg grinned. “You’re not thinking outside the box.”

‘This is crazy!’ Adrien thought. What did that even mean?

‘I can’t be a superhero!’ Marinette thought back. She had not calmed down. If anything, she was panicking even more as she listened to the explanations her creature was giving. Adrien caught a half-formed thought about a charm before Plagg spoke again.

“I am a kwami and you can transform using my powers,” Plagg declared, immediately drawing Adrien’s attention back to him. “While you’re transformed, your power is called Cataclysm. It will destroy anything you touch, so be very careful not to touch something you don’t intend to destroy.” Those eerie green eyes bored into Adrien.

“Right. Careful,” Adrien said dazedly. Between trying to wrap his head around all this and the pending breakdown Marinette was threatening to have, his head was spinning.

He sank down onto his bed and just looked at Plagg for a moment, taking it all in. A superhero. Him, Adrien Agreste. He couldn’t deny that it was a very appealing thought. He’d always wanted to do something on his own merit. To help people. To be more than just a pretty face. To be more than just Gabriel Agreste’s son.

“You’ll have a partner,” Plagg added. “Her kwami is probably talking to her right now.”

Adrien opened his mouth and then closed it, swallowing a laugh. “Uh, right. This partner...”

“You can’t know who she is. And it’s very important that you don’t tell anyone your identity,” Plagg said, shooting up towards Adrien’s face. Adrien recoiled automatically.

‘That... might be a problem,’ Marinette thought.

‘You think?’ Adrien thought back. ‘Obviously they don’t know that we’re soulmates...’

‘Should we tell them?’ Marinette asked.

Adrien hesitated and looked at Plagg. “So... hypothetically, what would happen if someone found out who I was?”

“That depends on who it was, but it could end up with your miraculous being taken away,” Plagg replied.

‘Nope, not telling!’ Adrien thought immediately.

‘Adrien! We can’t just keep this a secret!’ Marinette hissed mentally.

‘We’ve kept it a secret from everyone else, so we can do this too,’ Adrien told her.

‘I - no. I can’t do this. I’m no superhero,’ Marinette thought. ‘I can’t.’

‘Hey,’ Adrien thought, pushing as much comfort and confidence through the bond as he could. ‘Marinette, you’re amazing. You’re smart and kind and really sweet, and you handle things way better than you give yourself credit for. Don’t underestimate yourself and how strong you are, okay?’

‘Adrien...’ Marinette whispered, the thought so faint that Adrien had to focus on it.

‘I don’t want to do this without you. If I have a partner, I want it to be you,’ Adrien thought at her. ‘But if you’re not comfortable with that, I won’t push you into it. I’ll close the box up and... I dunno, we can figure out someone else to give them to.’

He did his best to hide his reluctance, hoping that she wouldn’t know how much he really didn’t want to do that. It would hurt to give away such an awesome opportunity, especially if he then had to sit by and watch someone else rescue Paris.

But he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone other than Marinette at his side. If she really didn’t want to do it, or didn’t think that she could, he would rather give it up than try with someone else.

Marinette was quiet for a long time. It wasn’t that she wasn’t thinking, no. Her mind was such a blur of conflicting, racing thoughts that Adrien could barely pick one out. So he just sat there and watched Plagg wander around his room, chattering away about how transforming would give Adrien increased strength and speed, better reflexes, improved vision and hearing, and greater jumping ability.

‘Okay,’ Marinette thought finally. ‘Let’s do it.’

“Yes!” Adrien exclaimed.

Plagg turned to him. “Yes?”

“Uh... yes, I’ll do it,” Adrien said with a big smile. “How do I do this?” He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto his finger. It fit comfortably.

‘This is so weird,’ Marinette thought. ‘Good thing I have pierced ears!’

“You say claws out, but -” Plagg begun.

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Waaaaaait!” Plagg squealed as he was sucked across the room and into the ring. Adrien looked on in gobsmacked silence as a green light burst out of the ring and ran over his body, changing his jeans and cotton shirt to a material that was not unlike black leather.

‘Oh my god!’ Adrien thought, looking at himself in the mirror. The black suit covered him from toe to neck and included black boots, sharp black claws, a black mask and a belt tail... plus two black cat ears atop his head.

‘Oh my god!’ Marinette thought a second later. ‘I can’t believe this! What even is this material?!’

‘Magic?’ Adrien suggested, experimentally rubbing his sleeve against his check to better feel it. Not black leather, but not spandex either. Something in between. Definitely magic.

A giddy thrill rushed through him and he grinned, striding over to the window and throwing it open. He hesitated for only a moment before shrugging and jumping out the window, Marinette’s mental shriek of his name echoing through his head. Part of him fully expected to end up a wreck on the pavement.

Instead, his jump took him seamlessly over the gate and to the building next door. Adrien paused there, looking back in amazement. He’d just jumped a good twelve feet with very little effort. Another grin crossed his face and he reached for the baton he’d noticed at his back. When he hit the button, he discovered it could expand.

‘Are you crazy?! You could’ve killed yourself!’ Marinette screamed mentally, sounding panicked.

‘But I didn’t! Plagg was right! This is so cool, Mari. You gotta come join me!’ Adrien thought gleefully.

‘Ugh, I can’t believe you got us into this.’

Adrien decided to take that as an agreement that she was coming and jumped several more buildings, until he was a few blocks from the mansion. Experimentally, he stretched his baton between two buildings and leaped up on top of it. His sense of balance was truly incredible, he noticed instantly. He had no problem standing on the thin baton.

A mental scream and a jolt of shock filled his head a moment later; it took Adrien way too long to notice that the scream was filling his physical ears too. He looked up literally in time for a red-suited Marinette to fall out of the sky. Instinctively, he held out his arms and she fell right into them. The force drove them both off the baton, though a string tangled around them as they fell so that they didn’t hit the ground.

“Hey there,” Adrien said, grinning.

“Shut up,” Marinette growled. “This thing is - gah!” She yelped as the string suddenly unwound, dumping them both on the pavement. When Adrien rolled over to look at her curiously, he saw that she was clutching a yoyo.

“So, you must be the partner my kwami told me about,” he said loudly. He had no idea if Plagg could hear what was going on, but figured it was better to err on the side of caution.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Marinette said sourly, clutching the opposite end of the yoyo and giving it a gentle tug. He watched in amazement as the string magically rewound in a split second.

“I’m... Chat Noir,” Adrien said, realizing at the last moment that he needed a superhero name. Chat Noir made sense, considering the black cat ears and tail. He looked at Marinette expectantly.

She stood there like a gaping fish, eyes wide and mouth open. “Um... uh... I’m... uh...”

‘Just pick a name,’ Chat thought to her.

‘It’s not that easy,’ she whined mentally.

‘Mari, we gotta at least try to pretend this is our first time meeting. Just... pick a name,’ he thought.

Out loud, he said, “It’s nice to meet you, Miss...” He trailed off.

She looked him up and down, looked down at her own red, black-spotted outfit, and shrugged. “Ladybug?”

“Ladybug,” Chat said, smiling. “First time out, huh?” He winked at her.

“I have so many regrets right now,” Ladybug said.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“Your face isn’t nice,” she muttered.

“Rude,” Chat said with a sniff, retrieving his baton from where it had hit the ground.

She opened her mouth to respond, but paused when they both saw a car go flying by. They looked at each other. Then, in the distance, Chat saw a building implode. His humor drained away, replaced by a sense of seriousness. Right. As cool as this was, it wasn’t just play; he and Ladybug actually had a job to do. He gripped his baton, held it vertically, and hit the button.

As he’d thought it might, one end of the baton smacked the ground. Holding onto the other end propelled Chat into the air and up onto the roof of the nearest building. When he turned around, Ladybug was standing there staring up at him.

‘Where are you going?’ she thought.

“To save Paris!” Chat answered out loud. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Right. I can - right.” Ladybug looked doubtfully at her yoyo, then started to swing it. “Right behind you... Chat.”

[xxplinkxx]

Something to remember.

Round 2!: @taiyuu-high-oct The hotel chase as most of it’s idea and small happenings rightfully credited to @gravityechoes  Thistle made them up originally and ily for that. Sorry I just copied most of it. Tsuki rightfully also belongs to @gravityechoes ! Moya belongs to me! I included some snip bits from @astryelle and @scoutdolphin round two’s! AT least the parts that included Moya shjasd,,,  Go check em out they’re all so lovely !! fhjvasd   Ah, the second round. Something that would...probably be happening often every once in a while. Buildings upon buildings of different heights, shapes, and designs lay behind these grand towering gates of Taiyuu's 'sundown zone'. And right in front of those grand gates, were a group of students with two teachers. The kids of all heights in the gym outfits, listening in. As the cloud kid, moya was listening to what the teachers were saying about what would happen in this dainty little test of theirs. As one of the students, he felt pumped! I mean, shouldn't he? With this test, a person with his quirk could be fit to easily win...As you can team up with others too! With their 'collab zone.' As this should be fit for an adrenaline rush, right?! I mean he was just looking at it in silence. Brows raised as his expression was akin to having his mouth dropped by a little. But looking around, eyes darting, it seems some of his classmates had already begun chatting with each other shortly. Things like strategies and how they could work together... He frowned ever so slightly behind the mechanical mask that was provided by the school.

  Knees up to his chest as he held his crossed arms that rested upon his knees. Groaning into his arms, as he thought about that other test and this one, the last round was bad...this one might even be worse!!!! Plus everyone in the class smart enough which they all are. Already knows that moya can hold himself up just fine. He even knew this fact, so why even bother?? Especially with any of them. He sighs as he furrowed his brows, moving his face upwards on his long-sleeved arms of his gym uniform. ‘...Those ten minutes must be over by now huh..’ he though in a thoughtless state. Just his eyes above the bridge of the nose weren't touching the cloth. "...This total disaster..!" He muttered as he leaned to the right. His head touching the stall door as his head clouds turn into a blueish grey. He'll stress out more if the same thing as last time could happen!! It might and probably will! He's like a loose cannon! His quirk was a disaster and so was he! It was a disaster! As moya was currently in the restroom! Before he made a pitiful expression as he looks down at his posture. He's pitying himself. He even made up an excuse to run down here! Usually, he's stress-free himself by yelling out his problems and opinions into a cloud but...the test had to be done right outside the door-! Agh! He sulked as he bit his bottom lip and balled up his hands. The last round's conclusion made him stress out, it's been on his mind. 

  The buzzing was heard, "...you know. You have that mask to prevent all your worries right? 'moya.' " An almost digital yet mechanical voice resounded from the empty bathroom. It made moya furrow his brows even more. Lin. Yeah, lin...the person who resembles twin brother. Is it a coincidence? A hairstyle change? His twin he can't remember the face of, was it this guy? He clicked his tongue, looking up from his bangs and slightly glaring at the digital bee. Making it float back abit. "...ok. Now I know your 'stress' can make you like this. But you need the mask. Put it on. You want to pass right? If so then just stop being a child, you know I care. I know you care. So stop refusing it-" 

  "But if I do then I'd be too powerful!" He shouted in an angry sneer. Punching the stalled wall to his right. ...Silence followed as a sigh came out. "You. No one cares if you're.... powerful. And you shouldn't because if you think your stupid rule of restraining your 100 percent is going to help you, it won't. Wake up you bafoon." The bee stated in a slightly harsh but glitched tone of voice.

  More silence followed. He huffed as he gripped the mask tightly. "...It's not stress. I just..." He balled up his hands as he stood in the stall, neck bent over and leaning as his wild long hair drooped down his shoulder. "I just... don't want to depend too much on this." He said quietly before raising his head and silently taking a long inhale. Exhaling as he blinked, looking up at the ceiling in slightly drooped eyes. His normal school face, usually behind a cloth mask. He exits, walking out with quiet taps. "...you know these people made it. So why would you deny it." A frowning silhouette behind a screen. Showing what was in the empty bathroom, he stated quietly in a slick tone. Seems...angry. The silent bee stated in the empty bathroom. Going back it buzzed, into the sewers it goes as it heads there. This time. Moya had strapped the mask tightly into his neck. 

  Going back on the list of who versus who, it seems moya was going to fight the...moon kid. Wait does he know anything other than the moon kid part? She was a new student of the other class alongside ameko right? If so then that's bound to happen. Researching wasn't the problem as it wasn't his style to just go research. See it for himself? Heck yeah! Wait no! This was a new transfer so researching was impeccable to even start to do! He pities Tsuki for just attending a test after the exam... especially on her first day. As the two stared each other down, this was what was going on in moya's head. But to the present, now here he was. Face to face with the moon girl...Well with the standing gal. He wasn't really on the ground, more on a normal cloud. When the gal blinked after a couple of times it just made him raise an eyebrow and narrow his eyes. Was there something wrong? Or is it the dust that came from the ceilings of these dirt buildings got into her eye? Not that it's his problem... as he takes a quick breath. He didn't even bother putting on the mask. Relying on such things is materialistic. ...A hidden side to the quiet cloud kid who seems to have such a powerful quirk. It was dead silence... not that moya minds. 

  His arms ley one his thighs, as he'd been closing his eyes in concentration and gathering the nearby lingering water vapor from the air. They gathered around his arms in a thin mist, swirling around and such and the swirls of a stormcloud started to appear. Up until a hollow cry resounded, but the moment it did, he started to make his move. With the thin mist gathering itself, faster and quicker, it would head straight for Tsuki. Almost shooting at her as the electricity pops and crackles. It's what he intended, as this would probably give him time to search for the orb and get ahead. But upon seeing Tsuki dodge by hiding behind a plush armchair, he raised both brows. This...what good reflex and quick-witted thinking. As expected, such a quick-witted transfer in taiyuu is only expected. Since the principle' entrance exam...he narrowed his eyes at the memory of his chaotic entrance exam.  

  Upon the cloud hitting the chair, the electricity it held was automatically shattered. Making the chair a conductor-like sponge to the electricity The thundering, booming sounds of it made moya also cover his ears. Loud noises hurt after all. But that didn't impact his mad concentration as he was without his mask. He can work on calming his stress after all, as he bit his lip. Using a hand and straining it harshly as he made a claw-like gesture with his hand. Keeping the focus on the dispersing pieces he stitched them together by balling up his trained hand that showed some of the skeletal on his hand. Able to stitch them up isn't really hard. Just have to bring back the emotion you felt when summoning it and push them together into one certain dotted spot. Though it's weakened due to its normal state is disordered. So the lightning is weaker, as he decides to send it after Tsuki again. But it was a surprise, to see it's weaponized lightning, flash through Tsuki's arm. Instead of landing the hit on Tsuki, it hit and scorched the wall behind Tsuki... More so it seems abit transparent? The awkward silence was there as he inhaled, letting the mild embarrassment take place. It didn't show up on his face but only on his head clouds as they turned a cotton candy pink. Seems like his concentration failed and the cloud disperses, as the surprise attack from Tsuki interrupted his concentration.

  "Sorry it looks like I'm not all there" She stated in the wide grin.  Making Moya narrow his eyes at her, lazy double lidded eyes sleeked down as he frowned. Grinning like that is making him more embarrassed... As she made her move when vaulting over the chair. Swinging and throwing the many pebbles at him and dashing towards him, he grabbed his cloud and dodged when she swung at him. But with the vase shattering and Tsuki getting hurt from it's shattered grounds, he just furrowed his brows. What even was the point of that? It reminded him of Kiru's recklessness and Lyrimon's nature. He just rolled his eyes, just before he spotted, for a few seconds, the orb. It was in the koi fish pond, with a fish just nibbling at it. Though it seems he gave it away to the enemy as his eyes flickered back to Tsuki. 

  Just like that, the two dashed for it just at the same time. Tsuki starting to gain the lead made moya go into alert. Having to make his cloud dash he opens a palm up where the air was wiping past it, he managed to make a medium-small cloud. Lightning, again. As he aimed it at Tsuki' back when she was pulling ahead. He still held the solemn frown even when it landed. He did pity her for having to absorb his attack, but a test is a test. And he's eager to win. As he zipped past her and scooped up the orb, heading to the stairs quickly running off on his dainty little cloud ride. 

  "...That should hold her off. Maybe for a while or not, it doesn't matter." He muttered to himself smirking as the area around him was in a slight semi blur, he was trying to go fast after all. If ameko saw him not going original cloud speed, she'd probably give him a ticket for speeding. He continued his way out and to his goal, sweet sweet victory was right in front of him! If he can keep up the speed he can make it! 

  ...That was how it should be. But to his feelings of demise, there was a girl who jumped out the window yelling a battle. "How original.." He muttered under his breath at the moment he faintly heard glass breaking. But it seems something passed right through him. Making him slightly pause as he felt akin to convulsing and a bad searing flash of dizzy-o'-clock. As he ent over slightly, he looked back up when he felt that the orb wasn't with him anymore. Anxiety is rising as he looked up. The gloves of Tsuki were found, alongside the fact she was sprinting to the goal she was supposed to take the orb to-!!! He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows as he materialized another stormcloud. Besides the other cloud that was a fiery but crackling one. It's texture and looks akin to magma leaking out of a hardened volcanic floor. Moya was gripping his head since extreme emotions able to bring out another cloud that was bothersome. Adding that stress to the feeling of Tsuki's going through him made his head spin. Migraines of repeating the same emotion cloud were the cause. He can't keep repeat and hold it together with the same emotion every time! As usual, the stormcloud one went over to block and intercept Tsuki like last time, but she detoured.

  By the end of his little recovery, he lost Tsuki. Making him click his tongue and disperse the two power clouds. As he decided to float above to find his opponent. Her goal line was vacant, so she must be hiding. He even thought so! Just seeing her goal vacant gave him ease to his anxiety. He was nearing the collab zone but didn't notice. He's too busy trying to find Tsuki.

All of a sudden.

“Kemuri. I need a favor.”

He perked up in surprise, going to look at the source. He narrowed his brows and eyes.

This...

  Lana. Ah, the very intimidating wait no who said anything about intimidating? Ahaha... well she’s the stoic gargoyle gal who's with the dramatic gakusa and the all-around excited ameko. The usual trio of taiyuu. ...Despite the class tests of which class is better than the other!! He raised both eyebrows as he listened to what she had to say. Besides he's gotta hurry. Tsubame-san heading straight for her goal when he's distracted is something moya doesn't want. He does feel bad though since she's quite remarkable. ..But remarkable people can deal with these things normally. He can't stay for chit chat as he pondered. So he'll try to speed this talk up. Looking around his area when speaking.

 "Alright."

 “Could you put cloud coverr overr the field?” 

“Why?”

“I need to catch Tokei.”

  He paused, but just so quickly. Time is ticking after all. He nodded. “Alright,” Moya stated as he took a hefty sigh, using the surrounding water vapor left in the air he focused on turning them into clouds. Thick but not enough to materialize and hold people. This should do. Especially to at least block his opponent' sights from going to their goal, at least for a little. ...That's to say if tsubame was still away from her goal. With Svetlana turning to moya all ear twitchy, she pointed to a tall shopfront hotel. Making him raise both eyebrows, go sharp-eyed, posture himself, and then thank her. He didn't bother saying goodbye and didn't pay attention to her going back to her field. He's sure she did the same because that's Lana.

  Ah. The cover should also block Tsuki's line of sight! Since all she's got is the glowing orb and a quirk that relies on sight, this could be easy to do for a trick!  He gave a small smirk at this, though it was quite naughty of him to do so. As he motioned most of the cloudy cover to go ahead and block the majority of the windows on the storefront. He'll have to thank Lana for this ingenious idea of covering the playing field-! Motioning them as he sat on his cloud abit above and outside the building, he proceeded to either. Dense it till she goes back out or dense it till she goes back out. The clouds were normal after all, so they didn't really hinder his headaches nor cause any. As he was upon his cloud. In an upper position where he can see if they exit out of the roof or emerge from the door or windows. As he's just hovering near Tsuki's goal line! The rows of many window seats on the front or left side. He's maximizing the dense cloudiness, eyes narrowing upwards as its surrounding clouds are turning into more of a shield and thick layer around the building. But he'll have to keep in mind, the clouds and denseness need to always be upheld. Keep that one solemn emotion in check, boy!

  With his very proud work, he decides to head in, as he swore he spotted a figure running up the stairs from the second-floor' windows. He motions his cloud by gripping it, balling up, and making it crash headfirst into the window of the third floor. Relieved that he wasn't harmed, he went to the staircase where he saw the figure running up. Sure enough with the speed from earlier, he managed to catch up and spot Tsuki right in front of him!! As he was flying on his cloud he kept his sharp sights on Tsuki. With her laughing when he reached the barricade, he made a smirk that might've burst into a snicker. But it didn't as he kept it on the down-low as he flew right over it. ..SHe was obviously proud and in hopes, this would stop him. Sadly it didn't, and that was quite pitiful to Moya. He did hide the expression though, per usual. 

  The sharp turn she took and the sound of a door slam made him squint just by a bit. As he furrowed his brows as he looked to see Tsuki's hand clip through the door. Holding and hooking a sign of 'Do Not Disturb' onto the doorknob as he darted near the room. Just staring at the sign for abit he rubbed his temples, this wasn't a game of goose but it's turning into one. He let a small laugh escape as he sighed, even if he denied it this adrenaline rush he was feeling was quite fun to have. Though if she keeps up the twists and turns he's gonna have a bigger migraine. Even so, he still did a small prayer for the door. Especially about what's about to happen. He automatically threw the door open. And there to greet him was the playful words of Tsuki, alongside the fact he saw her holding a pillow up ferociously like a weapon in defense. 

  'Must be shielding the orb though' he thought. Tsuki showed a dismayed expression to him. 

  "Didn't you read the sign?" Tsuki stated in a serious manner.

  This made him let out a surprised bark of laughter. He didn't mean to but is that really what you say when your opponent is back here face to face with you? And about to steal your most precious prize for victory! But a test is a test. And playtime was over, so he lifted a hand to send a cloud over. Was it to retrieve the orb? Yes, yes it was. But upon Tsuki baseballing, it to homerun moya couldn't believe his eyes. What the- he thought and before they can escape his mouth he fell over. The disturbance of one cloud dispersing mid-sentence and colliding to clip his travel cloud was something. As he blinked in a daze, he saw a fluffy white pillow come into contact. Quickly snatching it and still in a slight daze. 

"Pillow fight. Me, you"

  He paused. It was the confusion of course! But with Tsuki crashing out of the window and not showing her quirk out yet..he was still abit paranoid and anxious. Was she hiding it and will continue? He didn't bother learning about her before. So he obliged. Nodding his head by a millimeter he stood up and straightened himself. He didn't really have a problem with this, so he came in swinging! Tsuki's surprised cackle and energetic jumping reminded him of ameko's high-end energy exterior. Though with her added recklessness and gameplay attitude of this whole thing... it made him think of her like a dog. Making him summon a cloud of ice. 

  Why did he think of such disappointing things, having him grow cold? He didn't like how he connected any of the people he thought of. This was the second day and the second test after all. He'll just have to repress them.  As he attached the ice-cold cloud onto his pillow, the two continued to have a pillow fight. With Tsuki's pillow growing colder, he's sure if she kept looking like she is ignoring it, then he can at least immobilize her for abit. Testing how she can handle temperatures in the meantime process too! As she backed against the wall, he got a solid hit in! Making him smile but. That expression turned upside down as he saw her go through the wall. 'Ah..her.. quirk..' He panicked. The cloud cover outside dispersed, as his eyes widened and quickly opened one of the windows from the room he was in on the same wall Tsuki fell through. He scrunched his brows down as he looked down. As he summoned one of the normal and dense ones, sending it straight spiraling down as it did. Angling down and around Tsuki as it caught her. As he was leaning out the wall in a panicked expression, calming and relieved once Tsuki was safely caught. He eased up his strained body and hung his head down for abit. Looking back at Tsuki it seems she was just dangling on the cloud.

  Bringing the cloud up slowly and safely, Tsuki tumbled through the window as moya was a few feet away. Also on the floor. He was sitting with his legs to his chest. Slightly away from each other he was breathless and the terrified expression still lingered on his face. "A...Are you okay? When you fell- I almost had a heart attack. I had no idea..-" He stated in a blunder. Looking at the ground with downward angled brows he put a palm to his forehead. Watching Tsuki roll over and get to her feet, she lay a hand on her chest. Seems she was also frightened... he doesn't even know what to think of this situation as he bit his bottom lip. Before looking back up and darting his eyes to the orb in the corner, Tsuki walking into view and actually giving him the orb. He raised both brows and eyes widened by a little. 

"Here."

  He was. Speechless to say. He was confused too. I mean who wouldn't be? Just giving your winning ticket to your enemy isn't something easy to do. No. Usually, you just don't hand over the golden goose to your opponent. He just looked at the orb then back at Tsuki. The confusion was easily read on his face because of how he furrowed his brows in a confusing matter. 

"Take it. I. uh." He tilted his head at Tsuki who started to circle a hand in the air. She seemed to have trouble with what to decide on saying. So he just waited patiently for an explanation in his sitting position. 

“You didn’t have to help me. But you did. And, I appreciate that. It was just, well. Incredibly honorable. And sweet. I’m bad with words- just take it?”

He was touched. When people fall or get hurt in the action right in front of him it... makes him uncomfortable, thinking about the aftermaths. After all, they'd suffer. Both in the aftermath and during it. Nonetheless, he was touched.  Making him lean into just more respect for Tsuki.  But he scrunched his brows down by a little. As the concern wasn't fully evaporated after all. He could leave, but then what about the aftermath? He'd be a terrible person if Tsuki was still hurt. Alongside the fact that he'd of left her when she just gave him the golden goose. He straightened himself up and got to his feet, clouds were starting to form as he furrowed his brows in concern.

"...Are you sure you’re okay?” Worry still lingering in that solemn tone of his.

Tsuki waved a hand dismissively. “I will be. I just need a minute. It’ll give you a headstart.”

  Yeah due to Tsuki he's doubting whether he should go easy and let her win or just be the same as the start of this test. He bit his lip since this was such a respectable and strong opponent. Both nice and determined. It makes him almost feel bad for going to go hard on winning. Almost. He gave a small nod before rushing out, the lightly pulsing orb was in his hands and the small hyper adrenaline rush was growing. Kind of exciting. Making him materialize a storm cloud that would follow! As he ran, he summoned a cloud after a few loud thumps going downwards! Surfing his way out and about he would find himself in the kitchen. But before he could continue Tsuki appeared! In shock and surprise, he almost dropped the orb. Giving her the time to roundhouse kick the orb out of Moya's grasp. Well, it did work, and it seems she did it with mitts?? Especially when she threw the mitts off to grab the orb and runoff through the kitchen counter. This was alarming, so grabbing what was around he quickly threw a frying pan into his cloud through it so it could clip Tsuki. Success! Though he's sorry for making her fall and clipping her again with electricity. 

  Snatching the orb he skittered off, booking it yeah. Did he forget he could just ride a cloud? No. In fact, he can't right now because the stormed power cloud actually sucked up all the remaining water vapor. Alongside the fact moya's abit thirsty, he can't make a cloud! Should he have been reckless when running? No. Only in a seeable extreme success for defeat, he will! But with the sudden pan he threw to hinder Tsuki, it seems it'd been there to hinder him also!! Not knowing the fact Tsuki seemed to have thrown it. Dam you frying pan! He cursed in his head, taking back the prayers he did for the items whenever chaotic scuffles happened with the item in it. As he got floored, Tsuki got away with the orb! Booking it as he disperses the storm cloud and reusing the water vapor, he managed to grab himself a normal rideable one! He chases after. But upon seeing the elevator door closing he panicked and yelled.

"Hold the door!" Moya yelled in a panic.

  Seems it was too late as he halted his cloud to a stop. In disbelief, he bit his lip as he looked out the window. Inhaling for a brief moment he facepalmed. Yeah. And Tsuki must be waiting too. He decided to zoom up the staircase. I mean its faster right? So he took no time to head up to the rooftop. Minutes later he made it! Giving a brief but relaxed sigh he stepped out....well now it is not calm because there to greet him was a full-on a fist! Sending him sprawling! Reminding him of his slow reactions and how weak his strength actually was, it was all fine. As he lay there just in a daze there was a panicked voice.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to hit that hard! I am so sorry, is anything broken?”

  He blinked. This sure was a day for dazing.. he swears he saw stars and everything covered in black and grey dots. Someone was holding his jaw as he squinted abruptly. 'Ah. It was Tsuki? Did she hit me? Is that what happened?' He thought in the recovering daze. But thinking about it more he, internally panicked. Embarrassment and how a woman is touching him, this wasn't supposed to happen!!! ..Not that he likes women of course. Oh no, he's not interested in them in that way. But a person of the opposite gender let alone his opponent was touching his face. It made his head clouds turn a brightly strong sunset pink. Surprise and a mixture of emotions were lingering in them. Because now he's just holding his breath in! 

He gave a slight sigh of relief when Tsuki backed away. Touching his own jaw, of course, wincing even so. As his eyebrows were doing a slight dance.

"Sorry" She kept on repeating that word. "I didn't think that would actually work. Usually, people figure that one out and dodge! What a terrible first impression this has been, huh? Anyway. Uh, sorry about that." 

He didn't really....... 'mind' it. Things happen and things go after all. But he grimaced, stopping his brows from continuing that dance. He tasted blood, swallowing the taste. The test...still needed. to be. continued. He reorganized his jaw, well tried to, though he winced anyway. "...I bit my tongue." He said in a semi daze, rubbing his forehead and temples.

"Are you good?" She seemed to have shifted. As he can hear it. "I mean, you want to keep on going?"

He paused, blinking before covering his face, sighing a huff. Trying to readjust his jaw again he also once again, processed what had happened. Now that he's gone over it he... he's embarrassed. Embarrassed like major embarrassed-! 

Nonetheless..He gathered himself as he uncovered his face and shrugged. "...I mean if you are.?" He stood up and cracked his neck. Readjusting his shoulders he gave a solemn thumbs up.  Clouds summoned behind moya, three of them in fact. As he made his stance in a ready position, so did Tsuki. Them shrugging in return and charging straight at him. Both of the clouds darted and shot at her.

  With this turning into something like dodgeball, it was fun. At least for moya! As it is like dodgeball. But this time you have to watch the front and back! What a specialty! Also with it being on a storefront hotel rooftop. With Tsuki trying to dodge each flying cloud moya keeps throwing. Well, there were only two but he's juggling them and the cover. As he is making the two direct clouds come back every time and much faster as the more he concentrates the more quickly they become... Holding his head he feels like his head might burst..!! A leaking smile was appearing as the overwhelming feeling is there. And growing. He can't let Tsuki go. And he's sure he can't confuse her again because from this shop front' hotel height.. you can see the goals, at least make it out. He can't keep this up. But things took another tide as it seems the orb decided to fly to moya. In surprise and shock, he disperses the clouds he's tried so so hard to keep in contact. This... Tamashi. Tamashi must've done this he thought he subconsciously nodded his head. Before seeing Tsuki in alarm and running towards him, moya immediately jumped backward, and pacing stepped backward. 

  Quickly, away. He can't let her have this as he moves quickly. He neared the ledge of the building! But it seems Tsuki decided to skid against the floor and using her leg to hook her foot around his. As she flew between his legs and pulled him down before rushing back toward the orb. Making him falter unexpectedly on his chest. Closing his eyes because it was all of a sudden and he doesn't enjoy falling. Does anyone? But a cloud was there. Under him and reaching themselves as he hovered above some of the building' rooftop. But the orb wasn't there.. wait it was rolling!! The two paused and watched it fall off the ledge it went as Tsuki darted. So did moya.

 Specifically, he flung himself. Going past Tsuki and spinning he, successfully launched himself off the ledge and pretty quickly. This was the only way to beat a pretty athletic opponent, as in moya's sense. You can also say he's slightly abit cocky in his ability, despite wanting to restrain it. As he spun towards another building across he managed to use the wind rushing past him, for another cloud. Having him sink into it he made a swift chop to the extending cloud and make it go after the orb. As his eyes were locked onto its glow, seems that Tsuki also dived for it. It was almost in her reach too! Before a cloud darted and stuck to it, grabbing it and flying over to moya. The orb sticking like a piece of honey! ALongside moya' weirdly angled yet rectangular cloud bed going flat like a bed, he was laying straight on his stomach now as the cloud dropped the orb to his open palms. As to get to him now, you'll have to walk over and jump off a building! His location in the slight middle of half of the field near Tsuki's goal. This made him look at the orb before looking back down at Tsuki, smirking solemnly. A rare sight for him to smirk. As it indicates him being cocky. The rest of the round ended with moya quickly making his way over to his goal. Keeping himself in the middle of the large field he and Tsuki fought in. Crossing over the line as he made his cloud drop and disperse when he crossed over his line. 

"That's the end of this round! Kemuri Moya is the victor!" 

Shakily sighing, moya just sat down with the orb next to him in his finished line of a goal. The migraine is getting worse... Though. This was, at least, something to remember.

[randomoranges]

interesting story - last night when i was looking for another old fic to repost, i eventually opened this one up and i COULD NOT remember WHAT THE HELL the plot WAS for like HALF THE GOD DANGED THING, until i got to like the last part? and then i was like OHHHHH - RIGHT! anyways. here it is!

Perfect Cities Guilt

 Edward bounced back on the balls of his feet and waited for Étienne to open the front door. His friend didn’t know he was visiting – or at least Edward had called to warn him, but Étienne hadn’t been returning his calls since the start of the month and that was mostly why he had booked a flight to Montréal.

 He had called Élyse to see if she knew anything about her brother’s erratic behavior and Edward had been relieved when she had told him that she had seen him recently. However, he had seemed off.

 In Étienne’s world that could mean a myriad of things from the Viateur being out of poppy seed bagels, to Montréal’s latest language debacle and everything in between.

 Not wanting to take chances, and being slightly (read very) worried, Edward had decided to visit. And maybe there was the fact that he missed the bugger.

 Edward rang again and started to wonder if Étienne was even home. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he wasn’t and he momentarily berated himself for acting so impulsively. It’s not as if Étienne lived for his visits. His friend had a life, after all. He could be out and about – hell he could be on vacation for the next two weeks and Edward would look like a right old fool sitting on Étienne’s front porch waiting for him.

 Finally, after ringing the bell a third time, he took the spare key from underneath the doormat and let himself in. He didn’t normally like using the key, even though Étienne had often told him he could. He was always afraid he might be intruding or interrupting something, but – he was really worried and he did have permission.

 He immediately noticed that the apartment wasn’t the chaotic mess he had once found it in and that was a relief. If anything, it meant either he had arrived at the start of Étienne’s downward spiral, or that he just hadn’t cleaned up.

 When he stepped further in, he found various boxes of takeout food littering the dining area and none of it seemed mouldy. Edward sighed and cleared off a chair, before he dumped his bag and jacket. He took a moment to assess the rest of the apartment and it was only then that he heard faint noise coming from the living room.

 Edward quickly made his way there and at first he thought Étienne had left his television on and his laundry on the couch, but upon further examination, it turned out that the laundry was a living pile of blankets that contained one Étienne Maisonneuve.

 “There you are.” Edward chided as he closed the television and then pulled away some of the blankets so that he could sit beside his friend.  

 Étienne’s eyes widened in surprise but then he looked away furrowing his face in the pillow. Edward frowned. That had not been the reaction he was expecting. Normally, Étienne would have launched himself at him in a gravity defying, bone crushing hug that would knock the wind out of him but would bring a smile to his face. This wasn’t like Étienne and Élyse’s words returned to him – Étienne seemed off.

 “Étienne? Are you okay?” He didn’t look injured, but Edward had learnt a long time ago that Étienne’s wounds ran deep and internally. He put on a brave face and preferred for no one to come and scratch at the surface.

 A shrug came from the pile of blankets and for now, it had to be good enough. Edward sat with him for a moment and waited, in case Étienne enlightened him on anything that was going on. Instead, in a very surprising gesture, after about five minutes or so, Étienne reached out for Edward’s hand and clung to it tightly. Edward remained seated, stunned, and intrigued as to what could have transpired in Étienne’s life and held his hand back. He didn’t normally show weakness this way.

 After a while, Étienne dozed off, still holding on to Edward’s hand and Edward decided to do some tidying up and start some dinner. Étienne needed real food and maybe some good old TLC would get him back to his usual gregarious self.

 --

 “Edward?” Étienne asked, voice still groggy with sleep, hours later.

 Edward looked away from his boiling pot of soup and took in the sight before him. Étienne was still wrapped up in at least two of his blankets and he looked slightly un-kept, disheveled, and confused.

 “You’re up.” Edward offered as an answer.

 “You’re here?  How?” He asked, reaching out for him, as if he wanted to make sure that he was real.

 “Airplanes.  The 20th century sure brought us some great inventions.”

 Étienne ignored the jibe and instead shuffled his way closer to Edward.  Edward wasn’t sure what Étienne was going to do but he was once again surprised when his friend wrapped his arms around his neck - blankets and all - and held on to him tightly.  

 “You’re really here.” He murmured. “I thought... I thought I dreamt it earlier.”

 “No, I’m here.  And soup’s almost done.  How about we watch a movie afterwards?” He asked calmly, bringing a hand to his back to rub it soothingly.

 Étienne nodded against his shoulder and remained perched against him. Edward didn’t say anything and gently manoeuvred them to the now clean kitchen table to let Étienne sit before he returned with the soup.  

 Homemade soup always did wonders and some colour returned to Étienne’s face after a few spoonfuls. Edward noticed that he didn’t eat with as much gusto as he normally did and he also noticed that Étienne looked ...  thinner, despite the countless takeout containers he had thrown out earlier. This wasn’t like Étienne and it pained to see him this way.

 Edward vowed he would stay until he figured out what was wrong with Étienne.

 Once the dishes were cleared, Edward joined Étienne in the living room and carved himself a spot in the midst of blankets. Étienne curled himself around him and let him choose a movie. He felt Étienne relax against him and tightened his hold on him. Edward hoped, as he carded his fingers through Étienne’s curly locks that with a few days of care, Étienne would be back to his usual boisterous self.

 --

 It didn’t work.

 Edward thought for sure that by now, three days later and with the weekend looming, Étienne would have made plans for them to go out and catch up.  It seemed all he wanted to do was cuddle and mope. He didn’t mind the cuddling – it was always nice, but he enjoyed it better when Étienne would smile up at him or regale him with a joke or two. Instead, Étienne was quiet and looked forlorn.  Edward had tried multiple times to get Étienne to talk, but there was nothing to it.

 Étienne kept on getting these far away looks and tears threatened to spill from his eyes now and again. Edward had tried to be comforting, had held him throughout the night when he would tremble and clutch his pillow, but there was not much else he could do, when he didn’t know what was troubling Étienne.

 He was about ready to call it quits or take Étienne by the shoulders and shake him until he told him what was going on, but then just as Edward was coming at wit’s end, Étienne finally started talking.

 “Hey, since you’re still here, would you mind coming with me?  I have to go somewhere and I don’t think I can do it alone.” He looked nervous, if Edward was to judge by the way his hands worked at the sleeve of his shirt and tried to fray holes in it. He seemed jittery as well, unable to hold still and something about his stance suggested a fight or flight reflex ready to be put in action.

 Edward nodded automatically. This shed no light on any of Étienne’s erratic behaviour, but he hoped it would make sense eventually. The mere fact Étienne was suggesting they go out of the apartment had to be worth something.  He sat silently as Étienne got ready and took his keys.  

 He followed his friend to the métro station and thought maybe Étienne would explain along the way, but he didn’t. He remained quiet and sad looking and Edward wanted to hold him tight and make him smile again.  He had never seen Étienne this way for so long and it was disconcerting.

 They switched lines once and then had to take a bus up the mountain. Edward had never seen this side of it and he wondered, not for the first time, where it was they were going. Along the way, Étienne quickly stopped to buy some flowers and that only served to make Edward even more confused.  

 Yet he wordlessly followed him up the hill and through the curving road until they passed through the gates of one of the oldest cemeteries in North America.  

 “Étienne – what’s going on?  Why are we here?” He finally asked, unable to keep his curiosity in check. And it wasn’t just that, but visiting the cemetery was the last place Edward would have ever thought they would go.  

 “We’re almost there...  I’ll explain then. I promise.” He said as he kept walking on, through plots and small winding roads as if he had done this before and often.

 Edward sighed and kept walking as he followed Étienne through the various rows of tombstones. It seemed Étienne knew where he was going and Edward didn’t know what to make of it. He only hoped it would explain Étienne’s melancholic state.  

 They finally stopped, after ten minutes of walking, in front of a plain looking headstone. Étienne had closed himself in yet again and Edward was tired of all of this.  

 “Étienne?” He tried but his friend didn’t seem to have heard him.  

 Instead, Étienne brushed the snow from the top of the stone as the first two tears spilled from his eyes. Edward watched as Étienne’s whole body started shaking and then his legs gave out. He knew, before he heard, that Étienne was sobbing and Edward knelt down beside him, pulling him close. Étienne buried his face in Edward’s jacket and let out one broken sob after the other.  

 “Is this why you’ve been this way all week?  Is it because of whoever is buried here?” Edward asked rubbing Étienne’s back. He was thankful Étienne acknowledged his question, but chagrined for him when he nodded. “Do you – do you want to tell me about it?”

 “He...  We were – a long time ago.” Étienne started and then stopped. He took in a deep shuddering breath and tried to start again. “He was a nice man. His name was Patrice De Bonséjour. He was kind. Understanding. He’d recently moved here when I met him. We clicked almost instantly. He...” Another sob escaped his lips and Étienne tried in vain to wipe the tears from his face.  

 And – oh – it clicked, finally. Étienne had written to him about this man. About a new friend he had made and how wonderful he was. Étienne hadn’t put it black on white how it was he felt, but Edward had read enough of Étienne’s letters to be able to read between the lines. And then, a few years later, there was no more mention of Étienne’s new friend and his letters had taken on a sadder tone, even stopping for a while. It all made sense now.

 “You loved him.”

 It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation. In all the years Edward had known Étienne, even before they started whatever it was they had, he had never seen Étienne so distraught over any one person. Étienne was always the first to boast that love was not for him and that there was no point to it – especially not for their kind and yet here he was.  

 Étienne gave a small hesitant nod and Edward wondered if he had told anyone else about Patrice. About what he had really meant to Étienne. He felt he already knew the answer, but now was not the time for that.

 “It was my fault he died. He died because of me. Because I didn’t think – because I wasn’t careful. I killed him.” Étienne cried out, fresh tears spilling forth as his body shook with heaving sobs.

 Edward looked at him, startled and puzzled. He couldn’t figure out if he meant it metaphorically or honestly. “What do you mean you killed him?”

 “Because of what we are. I never thought I could get sick. So I wasn’t careful – didn’t protect myself when I should have. And I’m sure he got sick because of me. We weren’t... we were with others but it was my fault. And then he died. He died because of me. Because I was stupid.”

 Edward sighed. He felt for Étienne, really, he did. He had seen many of his friends’ die of the same thing. He had attended more funerals than he cared to admit to and he hoped nothing like that would ever happen again. However, accusing himself of murder was not something he had done and not something he thought Étienne should do either.

 He helped Étienne to his feet and brushed the snow off his legs. He handed him a clean tissue from the packet he always carried around and wiped a tear from his cheek with the pad of his thumb.

 “It’s not your fault. You can’t know for sure that you contaminated him – or that you were carrying it.” He started softly. “It could have been you, sure, but if you were with others... I know it doesn’t make it any less painful. It doesn’t make him any less dead, but you can’t beat yourself up over it. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to...”

 Edward tried to be as comforting as possible. Étienne was important to him and he cared about him more than he dared admit sometimes. He worried about him and hated seeing him this way. He knew Étienne could have destructive tendencies and he worried there would come a day when he wouldn’t be able to help him. He hated it. He hated feeling powerless and he hated not being able to heal Étienne’s heart of all the heartache he had lived through and had continuously carried.

 Étienne had once admitted to him, in the dead of the night, that sometimes, when he was reckless with sex, or drugs, or both, he wished it would do him in. Sometimes, he wished that it could all end so that he could finally find peace from the torment of his mind. But their kind could not die, even if their cities burnt down. No matter what happened to their land, they were still there to remember and Étienne had been through his fare share of history to not want to anymore. To be done and over with it. Move on.

 “I know it hurts, but you have to stop thinking this way. You have to stop being so reckless towards yourself... I worry – you have people who care about you.” He corrected himself, not wanting to say too much. “People who don’t want to see you hurt.” He gripped Étienne’s jacket tightly and avoided looking at him, afraid he would reveal too much if he looked into Étienne’s green eyes.

 Étienne remained quiet and placed his flowers in front of Patrice‘s grave. He then walked back to Edward’s side and rested his head on his shoulder. For a moment longer, they remained that way and Edward hoped that his message – what he had said and implied – had been heard.

 FIN 26

Started writing: February 15th 2017, 11:08pm

Finished writing: February 16th 2017, 4:38pm

Started typing: April 22nd 2017, 11:22am

Finished typing: April 22nd 2017, 12:30pm