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#I have been staring blankly at my ceiling over the last few days regarding The Developments
emilypemily · 8 months
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women’s football is a terrible horrible no good sport
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ey8508 · 3 years
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Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言
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Note:
R&S for this card (CG above)
Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 18-21 (read at your own risk)
Contains 5 chapters
Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)
Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”
Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)
Chapter 1 Page 1 It's no exaggeration to say that the name "Li Zeyan" has run through my entire high school era.  This "evil fate" probably starts with a 31-point Chinese test paper. I'm Gao Qishan, only 17 years old at that time, but there are so many things that usually interest me. Games, animations, and football are nothing compared than reading a book in a room. But hey, it's a pity that my dad doesn't think so. "I only scored 31 points in the Chinese test, and I'm still here with a hippie smile!" In the study, the old man blew his beard, looking disappointed, "How can my son be so useless!" Page 2 "Your son is very capable. I was the MVP of the basketball game last night!" "Your PPP is useless! You are in the second year of high school, not the second grade of elementary school! You have a 31-point score and you have a face to play basketball? You don't have any shame or a competitive spirit. Do you not want to go to college anymore?!"  . I was about to reply impatiently, the old man took out a magazine from somewhere, poked his hand at the cover and yelled at me: "Look at the person. He founded the company at the age of 20. In just two years, he has been on the "Business Rising Stars" cover interview! Look at yourself again, someone who is almost 17 years old and does not have the realization of it, do you want to be in the worst generation in the future, ah?!" Page 3 I'm not happy to hear this: "What's so great about starting a company? Your son, I will start a company in minutes!” "I'm almost out of school, and I started my own company? Oh, I'm going to be better!" The old man raised his head, and the thick magazine almost hit my handsome face.  "Learn from others, and don't give me daydreaming here!" Page 4 I grabbed this "Business Rising Stars" with enthusiasm. A decent young man in a suit was looking ahead through the photo. On the cover was a striking headline: "Li Zeyan, an astounding leader in Lianyu City.” "This title is exaggerated!" Even if I was taught by Lao Gao, I was inexplicably better compared with this Li Zeyan, and I just threw the magazine under the sofa. Who wants to learn from him? Just looking at it is a tarnish to my ability! Page 5 But somehow, at night I tossed and turned and I couldn't fall asleep! The more I closed my eyes, the more uncomfortable I was, what did Li Zeyan do. When I turned over for the 100th time, I suddenly sat up. It was a task by old Gao to read the magazine anyway, so I decided to retrieve the magazine and just take a look. After sneaking into the study room, it took me a long time to find the magazine in the innermost part of the sofa. Page 6 "... Although Li Zeyan is only 22 years old, he is already the president of Huarui, an emerging medium-sized company in Lianyu City.  Starting from scratch, he started from a small office to now has hundreds of people. Every step he walks is particularly solid and decisive. Li Zeyan’s way of business is beyond ordinary. He is like a lion, born with a King's aura." All these compliments just for this, isn't it just descriptions of someone starting their own company? I just haven't paid much attention to reading.  Just relying on my ingenuity, and getting a high score on the tests, it is absolutely nothing when it comes to starting a company. Hmph, just you wait. Chapter 2 Page 1 The university in City A is not only one of the top five in the province, but also the top five in the country. It is a university that I, Gao Qishan was admitted to dignifiedly! How about that, I said I'm absolutely fine. In a blink of an eye, the freshman year has passed. In the past two years, I have also paid a little attention to Huarui. The development has been okay, it has not closed down, and the scale has doubled.  It's just normal development. Is it worth the old Gao's praise from time to time?  Every time he flipped through a financial magazine and sighed, "You are so young, so good", it sounds a bit too much. Page 2 As the saying goes, "Seeing is believing", I think this sentence is right.  Taking advantage of the summer vacation, I decided to apply for Huarui's summer internship to see in person how the company is, just not to waste my talents and financial knowledge. Soon I entered the building, but how can the interviewer in the middle feel a bit familiar, the more I look at it, the more I recognize... Wait, isn't it exactly Li Zeyan?! What's happening, is Huarui going bankrupt? Why is the president personally do the interviewing for the summer interns? Page 3 "Manager Chen has something to do, I happen to be free." Probably my shock expression was too obvious. Li Zeyan flipped through the information at hand and looked up at me blankly.  "Gao Qishan? First, briefly introduce yourself." I don't know what's going on. I was so startled by Li Zeyan that I couldn't help but straighten up.  After swallowing my throat, I mobilized all my attention, took a deep breath and said, "Hello, my name is Gao Qishan, and I am a freshman in the Department of Economics and Management of the University of City A..." Page 4 After introducing himself, Li Zeyan asked a few more related professional questions. This kind of small question is nothing to me. It seems that Huarui’s interview is nothing more than that. He occasionally knocked his fingers on the table subconsciously, and asked with a deep gaze: "Why do you want to come to Huarui for an internship?" The continuous response made me more and more relaxed. I changed my sitting position and quickly thought about how to deal with this new question. Judging from previous information, Li Zeyan is a person who likes to win at everything. He should appreciate the kind of answers that seem extraordinarily confident, right? Page 5 After carefully thinking about this, I straightened my back and raised my chin and said: Although Huarui is quite a new company, it has grown at an amazing speed, and the achievements it has made so far are obvious to all in the industry.  And although I am a freshman student, I think I have a very strong learning ability. In this regard, I have a lot of similarities with Huarui. Therefore, I think Huarui is very suitable for me and will definitely make me grow faster. Of course, I can definitely give back the same freshness and vitality for Huarui. With a confident smile, I finished my speech and waited quietly for Li Zeyan's nod. But to my surprise, a few seconds later I was greeted by a frown from Li Zeyan. Page 6 "It seems that you have confidence in yourself. To be a man and to do things really requires self-confidence, but everything must be controlled." Li Zeyan stared at me and said in a hurry, "Only by maintaining reflection and introspection can we truly make progress." I understood his words, and my face flushed. A few days later, I really received a notice from HR (Human Resources) and I didn't get hired. Page 7 Although I had a foreseeable result from Li Zeyan's remarks, when I really received a reply and recalled the interview scene, I was still very angry. After my sophomore year, I went back to the final exams and tried to fight for the first place. I'll make sure that my ambitions are not just mere words. I have written down the "new hatred and old hatred" on my notes. I will definitely use the shortest time to create my own territory, leaving Huarui far behind! Chapter 3 Page 1 Today is the first day of my "Yuanshan Group" moving to a new building.  Morning light came in from the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood by the desk, proudly holding on to the brand-new office chair. In the next semester of the junior year, I used the dividends I participated in the project as the start-up capital, and I didn't need a penny higher than the old one, so my "distant mountain" just rose from the ground.  Isn’t it just 20-year-old to start a company from scratch? What's the difficulty?  When I founded Yuanshan, I was exactly 21, and the rounding is almost the same as Li Zeyan.  Because of this, my old man, Lao Gao stopped training me long ago, and I guess he must have praised me secretly. Page 2 In just a few years, Yuanshan has grown from a small company of eight people to a scale that now occupies a seven-story high-end office building, and the suffix has also changed from "company" to the word "group".  To be honest, my founder is very satisfied with Yuanshan's growth.  Although there is still a certain distance from Huarui, after all, they are also developing along the way, but it doesn't matter, I am still young, and sooner or later I can catch up. It didn't take long before the opportunity to "catch up" came. Page 3 I was originally interested in the land to the north of Lianyu City. When I heard that Huarui was also planning to bid on that land, I became more interested.  The Lianyu Municipal Government intends to develop the somewhat hindered northern side. At present, construction has begun to build a crossing bridge and a shopping mall, and this piece of land is nearby. "It is more than enough to build a six-star resort with 18,000 square meters and the supporting facilities can be added. Maybe Huarui made the same idea." I have paid attention to the recent developments of Huarui and have invested in four resort hotels one after another. The senior management of the company also agreed that the land is worthwhile, and if it can be won within the highest valuation of 89 million yuan, it should make a profit without losing it. Page 4 A month later, I came to the auction site with confidence.  Sitting in front of me at ten o'clock is Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui in a suit and leather shoes. After a few years of absence, I can finally compete with him. On the stage, the auctioneer gave an impassioned introduction to the land, and then said in a melodious tone: "The starting price is 35 million, and the auction will begin now!" As soon as the voice fell, several companies immediately raised their signs. But my opponent is Huarui. It is still early, so I have to wait for Huarui to make a move. Page 5 When the bidding became increasingly fierce, Li Zeyan finally raised his placard for the first time: "60 million." The opponent finally appeared, and I immediately raised the number plate: "61 million." As if he was just encountering an ordinary bidder, Li Zeyan never answered with words, but raised his placard again: "70 million." I continued to chase: "71 million!" Side to the front, Li Zeyan seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly. After a few seconds, he raised the number plate again, and said: "80 million." Page 6 "81 million!" As if finally realizing my bite, Li Zeyan glanced at me slightly sideways, then he raised the number plate, the noise was low and clear: "90 million." This figure has already exceeded the company's highest valuation, and the assistant quietly tugged on my sleeve, beckoning me to forget it. But if I really give up on this, I still feel no sigh of relief in my heart. The auctioneer has already shouted in front: "90 million twice." Page 7 "100 million!" My voice came out, at the last moment. Of course, Li Zeyan finally gave me a straight look. I watched his hand nervously, and saw that the number plate was never raised again, and the auctioneer had already shouted excitedly: "One hundred million! Yuanshan Group has come out of one hundred million! One hundred million once! Three hundred million!, make a deal!" Page 8 Finally got it!  Such a valuable piece of land I believe it will be a great help to Yuanshan, and it’s just around the corner to get rid of Huarui. I didn't even consider the cost of 100 million yuan. I just felt that my body was comfortable and exuberant, and the bright prospects were beckoning me. When Li Zeyan passed by me, my triumphant pride couldn't stop. "Thanks to Mr. Li for the bidding this time." Page 9 Li Zeyan put his suit jacket on one hand, and passed by me. I thought he would argue with me back, but Li Zeyan just raised his eyebrows uninterested, and then strode away without looking back. Okay, as the winner of the auction, I allow the loser to occasionally gaffe. Just when I was gearing up to do a big job, the Finance Department urgently sent a bad report. Due to my "passionate bidding", Yuanshan's capital chain suddenly had a problem. Chapter 4 Page 1 I urgently convened a high-level meeting, and after several discussions, the best solution at present turned out to be to invest in Huarui! Personally speaking, I have a hundred reluctances in my heart.  Not long before the auction, I took the initiative to bow to Hua Rui. Didn't that slap me in the face severely. However, the cruel reality lies in front of us. Yuanshan is not only my own person, but also the collective effort of hundreds of employees.  To let Yuanshan survive this crisis steadily, I can only and must "take the initiative to surrender" to Huarui. Forget it, "vote" just "vote"!  Although it was a mistake in my decision-making this time, Yuanshan's development prospects are so good that Li Zeyan should never not invest as long as his eyes are correct. Page 2 However, the negotiation process is still more difficult than I expected. It is not that Huarui has no intention to invest, but almost all the conditions listed are on the lowest line of the distant mountains. "If I remember correctly, the creditworthiness of Huarui's previous investment in the gaze lock company is not very high." I fought hard against the low pressure, and Yuanshan's creditworthiness has always been in the top four in the industry. "...with Yuanshan's creditworthiness Huarui's right to speak will definitely be improved. I think Mr. Li can think about it again." Page 3 "Do you think you are still eligible to negotiate terms with me?" Li Zeyan straightened his mouth, exuding deterrence, "...Huarui Investment in Yuanshan is not for charity, and has no obligation to pay for your suicidal behavior." He raised his hand and glanced at his watch, with a hint of impatience on his face: "Think carefully about it yourself." The long negotiation was finally over. Although Yuanshan and Huarui finally reached a cooperation intention, the whole process failed me. I thought I was about to be on the same line of competition with Li Zeyan, but I was beaten back to the former "interviewer" again. Page 4 By the area downstairs in Huarui, I was smoking a stuffy cigarette, and suddenly there was a faint sound of footsteps behind me. It turned out to be Li Zeyan. Although he was still expressionless, the murderous aura and arrogance from the negotiations seemed to have diminished. Li Zeyan steadily walked to my side: "Gao Qishan, I remember you once came to interview for a summer internship." I didn't expect Li Zeyan to take the initiative to speak. I was surprised. He said: "Several years have passed, and it seems that self-confidence is increasing." If it wasn't for my lose, I stood up slightly: “Although I made a mistake this time, as far as the strength of Yuanshan is concerned, I have the capital to be confident." Page 5 "Yuanshan's strength is indeed pretty good, but don't rush to eat the cakes that you can't eat for the time being. Being high is far from a long-term plan for enterprise development." Li Zeyan said lightly, and took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me, "There will be a practical business forum in Lianyu City next week. You can come and listen when you have time." A practical business forum? What do you mean, is he mocking me for being too pragmatic? The inexplicable enthusiasm and self-esteem suddenly appeared, and I blurted out: "Mr. Li, even if Yuanshan is really not as good as Huarui now, there is no need to humiliate people like this, right?" Page 6 Li Zeyan frowned: "What are you talking about?" He paused, his eyes sinking, "I thought you would be an opponent you could look forward to, but I didn't expect the vision to be just like that." Without additional explanation, Li Zeyan turned and walked away after speaking. I was stunned, looking at Li Zeyan's steadily leaving behind, I couldn't help but relive the conversation just now in my mind. Could it be that Li Zeyan meant that because he regarded me as a potential opponent and hoped that this opponent could become stronger and more competitive, did he propose to let me participate in the business forum? Page 7 That's right, it seems that only such an explanation can make sense! Thinking of this, I couldn't help blowing a whistle. After all, it was an "imaginary enemy" and pursuit of goals since the age of 17, which can be affirmed and recognized by Li Zeyan. It is simply an easter egg that comes with the negotiation, and it is worthy of the old man to praise me ten times. I was being silly and happy. Suddenly my fingers hurt, I have forgotten about my cigarette that was about to burn my fingers! Chapter 5 Page 1 With Huarui's capital injection, Yuanshan passed the crisis steadily. After more than half a year, the foundation of the resort has gradually taken shape. Just when everything seemed to be going in a good direction, early this morning, the news of "the crash of the president of Huarui" directly bombed all major platforms.  Reminiscent of the so-called "homicide list" that was suddenly leaked on the internet a few days ago, I inexplicably feel that these two things may have some connection. Who on earth wants Huarui to sink in the water? Wait a minute, which company announced the list. Could it be that their person in charge is secretly playing tricks? Page 2 Before I could find anything out of my investigation, within a few days, the news of "Which company claims that Huarui has maliciously acquired a large number of pharmaceutical companies" once again detonated all platforms! "Deliberately monopolizing the pharmaceutical market will inevitably cause the price of medicines to rise, which is obvious." "Just for profit, this behavior is very bad!" "Even Huarui's own workers and can't stand it, which shows how terrible Li Zeyan's actions are!" Page 3 Opinions on the Internet are divergent, and public grievances are boiling, and they all accuse Huarui. But I don’t believe it. Although I have only met Li Zeyan several times in person, for so many years, because I have always regarded him as an opponent and target, I have studied Huarui and Li Zeyan’s behavior more than anyone else. The nonsense on the Internet, I don't believe a word! I browsed the web quickly, staring at the almost identical title and searched viciously. Page 4 "Huarui’s reputation plummeted, Li Zeyan fell into a situation where everyone was clamoring and angry, and the heads of the company was clearly cut off from him." In the video, the host's voice kept ringing into my ears. All the signs made me firmer in my previous thoughts: It must be looking at which company is crossing the river to demolish the bridge! I immediately called the assistant to the inside line: "How much do you hire me for a large number of naval forces? How many can you hire? How many! That's right, I have to spare no effort to clarify for Huarui, and by the way, I will focus on the company. Going right now!" I know that this "bad strategy" and only a small help but I haven't beaten Li Zeyan righteously, how could Huarui have an accident in such a situation! What I want is not the taste of winning without a fight. Page 5 Probably because of anger, I couldn't help but send a message to Li Zeyan: The outside world said that Huarui's energy is exhausted. You will not be reduced to the point where you still need to borrow money from me, right?" This message was sent, and I did not expect Li Zeyan to reply to me. However, when it was almost midnight, I suddenly received an email from Huarui. ‘Huarui has always been a responsible company, and will do what it says without fear of any storms. Now everything is running normally, you don't need to worry about it.’ Signer: Li Zeyan. Page 6 Looking at this email, I couldn't help but smile in the middle of the night. Also, Huarui has always been fighting steadily, and Li Zeyan has never fought unprepared battles. Maybe he is playing a big move. Otherwise, how can I say that he is my respectable and close opponent! As for my secret match with Li Zeyan. Give me another three or four years to see who wins and who loses.
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mymelodyheart · 4 years
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Miles Between Us Chapter 7 ~All In A Day's Work~
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WARNING: MILD SEXUAL CONTENT
Previously in  A Wrinkle of Time
"You have my blessings. Conditions are, there should be once a week phone-calls. Video or facetime ones or whatever you call it. And when I'm on British soil ..."
Jamie suddenly straightened up on his seat. "We'll visit, or ye can come and stay with us." 
Quentin shot up on his feet. "Very well then, welcome to the family, Fraser. Go and get your dinner ...you wouldn't want your wife ..." he coughed, his face turning red. "...I mean your girlfriend reheating what she's just lovingly made."
Jamie got up as well, ready to shut the laptop, relief and confusion at the sudden turn around washing over him in waves.  What the fuck just happened?  Too bewildered for words, "Of course," was all he could muster. 
Quentin hesitated, as if in search of the right words, his throat working overtime. When he finally spoke, Jamie couldn't help but hear the emotion in the older man's voice. "If Claire's father was alive today, he would think his daughter has made a fine choice."
His jaw dropped involuntarily. "He would?" 
If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.
If you wish to read this from the beginning:
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   Claire sat at her desk in her newly built writing studio, contemplating what to do about Thomas Christie next. For the past couple of days, she'd attempted to reach the elusive blogger by all means of communication: phone calls, email, comments on his posts and private messages in his Instagram and blog account. But her efforts, to her frustration, were to no avail. She'd even asked around the village for information on his whereabouts, but each answer led to nowhere. Though he had a resident address, it's quite apparent he wasn’t in. She'd thought of asking Jamie for help but decided not to. It was her project, and she's determined she would accomplish it with her own research skills.
Sighing, she leaned back against her seat and stared at the ceiling. Her boss, John, was counting on her to convince Christie to publish with Dreamweaver Publishing, and so far, she had nothing to show. Looking out the window facing the open fields, her gaze settled on the tractor bumpily navigating a small ragged lane, the rumbling of the engine soundless. She smiled. True to his words, Jamie had more than adequately soundproofed her workspace, shutting out any distracting noise. But with no sign of life from Christie, her work had been brought to a standstill.
Ah, hell! Claire glanced at the time. It was already mid-morning, and she'd been sat there staring blankly at Christie's blog all morning. What to do, what to do? She switched tabs on her browser and looked at his Instagram account, and realised he'd just posted a photo circa a minute ago. She decided to strike while he was online and send a message. Go for it, Beauchamp! With huge calming breaths, she rolled her shoulders and began to type, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
Hello Mr Thomas Christie. My name is Claire Beauchamp from Dreamweaver Publishing Company, London. I have been trying to reach you for the last couple of days to offer you a proposal that may be of interest to you. Some time ago, we came across your blog, and after having read through the content, we've come to realise it has an enormous potential to become the ultimate guidebook to the Scottish Highlands in print. Your knowledge, passion, and enthusiasm for Scotland and your keen eye for photography have captured the public interest, our company and myself included. We'd love to assist you in reaching your highest potential and expanding an even broader following should you be interested in authoring a book. I will be in Broch Mordha for the next few days if you wish to speak to me in person, and I will be more than delighted to explain the details. Any feedback you can give me at this point would be highly appreciated. Best regards, Claire.
Thinking Christie would appreciate the option, she included her phone number and her professional email address and then clicked send. After going over her message, she randomly liked his posts and commented on a recent photo for good measure, hoping it would be enough to get his attention. Oh, please answer this time!
Satisfied for now she'd done everything she could, she decided to make a coffee. She was just about to get up when her phone rang, making her jump in the process. Oh, sweet Mother of God! She must be more on edge than she thought. Clearing her throat, she gingerly tapped the answer button on her screen.
"Hello?" she squeaked. Damn it! I sound weird. 
"Miss Beauchamp?" a deep, heavily accented voice answered. "Thomas Christie here."
"Mr Christie! You called!"
"Please, call me Tom. I'm no' much for convention and formalities. May I call ye Claire? If that's alright."
"Of course," she smiled, regaining back some semblance of composure. She'd already prepared a presentation in her head, but looking back now, it sounded like a pitch from a realtor selling a million-pound property. She reminded herself, Thomas Christie was a nature buff and liked to live an uncomplicated life, if not minimally, when travelling around Scotland in his restored Westfalia Volkswagen Camper. If she'd learned anything from his posts, it was that he wouldn't be easily persuaded with a promise of fame and monetary gain. There's no option but to start improvising.
"I heard a pretty lass was looking for me," he drawled with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I was informed ye were asking around. At first, I thought ye might have been from the council trying to get hold of me because of my unpaid council taxes. If that had been the case, I would have made an exception and come and paid my dues after seeing the photo my mate has taken of ye. Shame it wasn't a better close-up."
"Photo?"
"Aye, photo. My mate took it when ye werenae looking and sent it to me. Ye are bonnie, I must admit."
"Oh!" Holy, is he flirting? Claire wouldn't be surprised. This man's charms had drawn quite a lot of female fans to his site, and it was apparent that he's attempting to weave it on her. He probably thrived in his devotees' admiration, making him aware of his own appeal. This kind of cocksure behaviour wasn't a novelty, so she ignored the teasing but attempted to maintain a fairly laidback attitude. "Well, as you can see, I'm not from the council. And if I were, I wouldn't be making a noise about it now, would I?"
He laughed out loud. "You're right. So, what can I do for ye, Claire?"
"Have you read my message?"
"I have," he said quietly. "But I want to hear from ye why ye think my blog would be good enough to be published."
"Well, as I said, your passion and enthusiasm for Scotland are very apparent in your writing. Your words are ... how shall I say it, so visceral. But I'm not going to lie, though. We would need to make a lot of adjustments before we could present it to the mass. A bit of tweaking here and there and ..."
"Tweaking? I thought ye liked my work as it is?"
"Oh, I do," she said hurriedly. "You misunderstood. We wouldn't want to take the essence out of your writing. It's just a process every book has to go through before it's published. Like polishing your sentences, making them smooth and clear, ensuring that they don't have unnecessary phrases and repetition. And of course, there's the design and typesetting ...oh, well, that's for much later on. It's all standard drill in the publishing process."
"I see ..."
When a long silence lapsed, she checked her phone screen to make sure they were still connected.
"Tom?"
"Aye, I'm still here." He took a huge deep breath. "And what's yer role in this, Claire?" 
"I'm the editorial assistant for Dreamweaver, and I'm here to make this proposal and answer all your questions."
"Right ...Weel, ye see, this is my concern. I'm an avid book reader, and while I'm pleased with all the attention my online journal is getting, I highly doubt that my writing would make it among the best selling list, let alone would anyone, for that matter, be too giddy with excitement to buy it. So what's all the fuss?"
The ambiguity in his voice wasn't lost on her. He may be this self-assured, nature-loving, nonconformist bloke as he'd portrayed on his online travel journal. But clearly, some of that attitude needed to rub off on his self-belief for his art.
"Oh, but that's where you're mistaken," she reassured. "My boss, John Grey, is totally sold with the idea of your adventure stories around Scotland, and he thinks with the proper structural development, design and marketing, it would be a hit. Especially with your fans. The concept is refreshing, and it would be different from any travel guides out there. And besides, it would be an excellent boost for Scottish tourism."
He made some muffled noise and then cleared his throat. "What about ye?"
"What about me?"
"Are ye sold on the idea of my blog?"
Part of John's faith in this book's promising prospect clung to Tom's admirable physical qualities. But for her, that wasn't the main selling point.
She straightened up from her seat and leaned over her laptop. With a flick of her wrist, she brought her computer to life and right there on the screen was his Instagram account. She remembered John's words, Sell him the dream! But she didn't need reminding. Tom may not be the most proficient writer, but his contents were great, especially the picturesque panorama photos. She read a few snippets of his post and smiled.
"Tom ...this opportunity Dreamweaver is offering you would be great exposure for your travel journal. By publishing it in print, you'll be able to reach a broader audience. Your knowledge of this wonderful place is beyond incredible from flora to fauna, the lands' history, the weather phenomenon that can only be termed as typically Scottish ...the whole package is simply amazing. Your passion and enthusiasm for this place make me want to go on that adventure you so love …" She inhaled deeply, searching for the right words. "And I know deep in my guts your future readers would feel the same way. And that's what a great travel book should do, great adventure stories that inspire readers and challenge them to step outside the comfort zone ...even for a little while. This is the kind of book that could encourage people to explore, make them realise that escape from the daily drudgery doesn't mean expensive trips halfway around the world, and that adventure can be found in one's own backyard or a few miles trip down the road. I say you should share this with the world. And to answer your question ...yes, I'm totally sold."
She was out of breath by the time she finished, so she leaned back on her seat and crossed her fingers, hoping for a positive outcome. It was all now down to Tom. She didn't want to push, but the longer the silence between them went on, the more she felt like she was forcing him into a snap decision.
Ah, hell! "Look, Tom, there's no need to decide right now. You have my number. Why don't you think about it for now and call me up when you've made a decision. How about that?"
"I have a better idea. How about we discuss this further in person before I decide? Let's say ...over a dinner date?" he suggested in a low voice.
The word date resounded loudly in her ear. Oh, dear, God!
She needed to play this right without making it look like she was turning him down. Hoping for the best, she laughed nervously. "Of course, it only seems fair to meet first in person before you decide." She swallowed hard and squeezed her eye shut. "But I would hardly call it a date. We can meet at the Inn's pub in the village square and professionally discuss everything over lunch if that's alright. And just to be clear, I already have a boyfriend." 
"Ah, damn!"
She flinched. "Oh, dear!"
He laughed. "Relaxed, Claire. I get it. Ye're taken, and I'm no' surprised. But ye cannae blame a lad for trying, could ye?"
"N-no, of course not ..."
"So business lunch it is then. I'm away for a few more days, so ye have to wait a bit more. I'll give ye a ring when I get back. How's that?"
Yess! She made an effort not to sound too relieved. "That's perfect, Tom! I'll see ye in a few days!"
"Great!" Then the line went dead. 
She let out a massive sigh of relief. So damn close! Feeling elated at the outcome of their conversation, she shot to her feet and did a happy dance. She couldn't wait to call John and tell him everything. If she did her work well and laid out all the finer details of the publishing process and projected outcome, she knew Tom wouldn't be able to turn down the proposal. Invigorated, she immediately went back to work and began typing her outline. Ah, life is good!
..........
Jamie killed the chainsaw engine and pulled down his safety goggles when he caught sight of Jenny's car approaching. He had a bird's eye view of the driveway from the tree and could see everyone's coming and going. What the bloody hell is she doing here? She didn't usually come to job sites; nevertheless, he decided to come down since it was nearly lunch break. Wondering why her visit couldn't wait until work was done for the day, he gripped on to his harness and made a slow descent.
His sister got out of the car, stopping to greet some of the workers and subtly launching glares at him. Alertness immediately snapped in Jamie's shoulders as he realised something was up. 
He dropped to the ground, his work boots landing on a combination of mulch and wood chips debris. As he laid down his chainsaw, he watched his sister approach and noticed the forced smile she had for the workers a few seconds ago, waning from her face. He braced himself as he waited for her to say something, unease slithering like a snake up his spine. This was definitely not a friendly visit.
"What's this I hear, ye havenae been attending therapy?" she hissed. "Have ye gone, daft?"
He glanced above Jenny's head to see if anyone was watching them before glowering down at her. "For fuck sake, Jen, ye're no' my ma," he said in a low voice. "Whatever's about to spew out of yer mouth, this is no' the time nor the place for this."
"Ach aye? Wait till ma hears about ye missing yer therapy!"
"Oh, what's this? We're back in primary school or what? Rushing off to ma to tell her everything. Why cannae ye give ma and me a break, eh?"
"The therapy is for yer own good!"
"I'm fine, Jen! I told ye that many times! What part of 'I'm fine' cannae ye understand?"
"Ye've been telling everyone that all yer life. Everything's fine ... I'm fine ... dinnae fash," she mimicked his voice, her face scrunching up. "Ye say that all the time even when, in actual fact, most of the time ye werenae. So why do ye suppose I dinnae believe ye?"
Jamie looked up at the sky and let out a massive breath. "Aye, there's truth to what ye say. But this time ...I swear, I've never felt better."
"Bloody hell! All this time, I thought ye've been attending therapy. I wouldnae have known if Geneva hadnae asked after ye."
"Weel, if ye'd asked, I would've told ye!"
"No, you wouldnae. And that's always been yer problem."
Christ, why can't she just shut up? He glanced up and noticed his men were looking towards them now. He tugged at the neck of his shirt and winded his head. "Jenny, stop! I cannae do this right now."
His sister stepped forward and was right at his face. "Ye think I'm telling ye off for fun? Weel, here's the news. Everyone wants the best for ye, but ye dinnae care, do ye? Ye're acting like one selfish prick!"
"Jenny ..." he warned, feeling hot and cold all at once.
"No, dinnae Jenny me ..."
"Jenny, shut up! I cannae ..."
"Ye could've at least had Geneva assessed ye. Is that too much to ask?"
Jamie shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he realised Jenny's voice had become distorted, and the grating sound of the stump grinder and helicopter whirring above his head grew more punctuated. Without a hint of warning, a bomb suddenly detonated inside Jamie, and his world began to move in slow motion. Seeing nothing but red, he was only vaguely aware that his angry bellow brought everyone in the vicinity to a standstill.
"What the fuck, Jamie!"
Jamie came to his senses when an arm landed across his chest. He realised Willie was standing between him and Jenny. He glanced at his sister, and her expression caused something inside of him to still. He looked down and saw his fists were two rocks, shaking as if prepared to do some severe damage. Oh, God!
"Jenny ...Willie ..." Jamie whispered. "I ...ah ..."
Hands curled up under her chin, Jenny's eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked terrified. Of me? His heart nosedived to his boots so swiftly, he wondered how he remained upright. The fury evaporated in an instant, and all that remained was shame. He'd felt that kind of guilt before but never with enough punch to knock the air out of his lungs. For crying out loud, this is my sister. What was I thinking?
"Jen ..." He attempted to reach out to his sister, but Willie's arm restrained him. Realising the cause of his older brother's concern, he forced his fists to unfold, aware of Willie watching closely. "I'm so sorry. Oh, Christ, I wasnae gonnae hurt ye," he rasped. "I could never lift a hand to ye. Ye must know that."
He swallowed a lump when Willie appeared reluctant to let him go. But Jenny patted their brother's arm, nodding to let them know she was alright. When Willie took a cautious step back, Jamie immediately gathered his sister into his arms and cradled her against his chest.
"Jen ...forgive me. I didnae mean to shout," he said thickly. "Ye ken I wouldnae physically hurt ye, aye? For Christ sake, ye're my sister, and I love ye. Ye looked so frightened. I couldnae bear the way ye looked at me ..."
"Jamie ...I wasnae scared of ye ..." Jenny whispered. "I was scared for ye."
He pulled slightly away and searched her face. "What do ye mean?"
"Even though ye've been to war, I ken ye dinnae like fighting and violence. Ye abhorred it. I was scared ye might do something ye might regret and make yer condition worse. I dinnae want that for ye."
Jamie stared down at her. "Jenny ..."
"Look, Jamie. It was my fault. I shouldnae have pushed knowing yer condition, and ye ken what my temper is like when it gets out of control. It's like ..."
"Like mine ..." Jamie finished off for her. Drawing her once more into his embrace, they stood like that for a while. Soothing, apologising and hushing each other.
Willie stared at them and shook his head in disbelief, mumbling a sequence of profanities. It wasn't the first time he'd seen their outburst with such intensity. But it was probably the first time Jamie had seemed out of control. Reassured that peace had been restored, for the time being, Willie spun around and left them alone. Exercising his authority at their workers, the older Fraser barked warnings that gossip coming from their workplace would not be tolerated and anyone found guilty would be subjected to an immediate suspension. And with that, he stomped off, leaving them all to stare at his disappearing form in shock.
..........
"There ye are," a deep voice mused.
Claire jumped, making her slam the fridge door and Adso bolt out of the kitchen. She took a deep breath before turning around. 
"Jamie! You're home early. I was just about to prepare dinner."
"Willie didn't need me for the rest of the afternoon, so he sent me home early." His chest was bare and heaving and glistening with sweat. He must have taken off his top as he came in. "I ran all the way from work. I think I may have far too much energy," he explained, slowly approaching her. His hand reached out and placed it behind her neck, and drew her in for a slow wet kiss, knocking the air out of her lungs. His other hand slid under her sweatshirt and squeezed her breast. "Tell me, what am I suppose to do about it, Sassenach."
She pulled away from him and scrunched up her nose. "Jamie! You're dirty."
"And here I thought ye like me dirty." There was no amusement in his tone, and his bunched jaw told her he was on edge or maybe stressed? 
"Why don't you take a shower while I make us something to eat, or better still, how about a bath to help you relax? I'll even bring you a beer," she suggested, feeling a tad concern as she eyed him questioningly.
"How about ye come and have a shower with me," he wheedled, tugging her closer. 
She drew away and took a step back. "Jamie, I've just had one, and I'm all clean." 
"No' a problem. I can get ye dirty in no time." Jamie hauled her into his arms as she tried to dodge. Squealing, she slapped his chest. Once more, his hands wandered, causing a tingling sensation to coast all over her body. "There we go, ye're as dirty as me now." Pressing himself against her, he inhaled her hair as his breath came faster, fingers twisting in the hem of her top. "Ye definitely need a shower now." he gritted.
Laughing, she peered up at his face, and what she saw made her do a double-take and swiped the smile off her lips in an instant. Oh, sweet Mother of God, he looks worse for wear. Something must have happened at work. Didn't he say Willie sent him home? Looking closely, she noticed he looked weighed down with need, and it wasn't just the sexual kind. It was something more and urgent. He'd had almost the same look the other night when he woke up from a fitful sleep, but she hadn't pushed to find out. His hands were all over her now, frantic and desperate like he was trying to grasp onto something to anchor himself, his breathing becoming more shallow and harsh, and his eyes beginning to glaze.
"Jamie stop! Stop right this second."
He immediately stilled and loosened his grip, shame marring his face. "Ach Christ, Sassenach, did I hurt ye? I did, didn't I? Tell me! Oh, dear God ..."
He was about to turn away, but with her hands, she forced his pained face to look at her, a moan barely subdued in his throat. She could already read what was going on through his head. No way would she stand by and let him take any blame, feel shame or guilt. Not this time. And not anymore. He'd made mistakes like everyone else and would continue to make them, but he needed to believe he was a good soul. This had to stop now. "Look at me, James Fraser," she demanded in a firm voice. "Look at me! Whatever is going through that damn mind of yours, don't you even bloody dare entertain it. Are you listening to me?"
"Sassenach ..."
"No, Jamie! I don't know what happened to you today, but let me tell you this ...shit happens all the time, alright? And sometimes we don't get to have any control over it. That's just the way it is. Tonight we're going to talk, even if it takes the whole bloomin' night. But first ..." Before she could change her mind, she stepped away from him and yanked off her top and pulled her leggings down. When she was fully naked, she took his hand and laid it on her bare breast. "Take whatever you need, Jamie."
He baulked. "Sassenach ...ye shouldnae want this in my state. It's wrong. I-I was too rough. I could have hurt ye." His voice sounded hollow and agonised. 
"But you didn't."
He palmed her breast. "Christ, do I have a shred of decency left?"
"Do you love me?" she asked, undoing his jeans button. She saw he was already highly aroused and his skin covered in goosebump.
"With all of me," he groaned when she pulled down his zipper. "And ye ken that."
Determination licking through her veins, she stood on her tiptoes and spoke into his ear, her hand sliding inside his jeans to caress the ridge of his hardness. "If that's the case, what we're about to do is not wrong."
A voice raced through her consciousness, telling her this was the way forward. She knew he needed his control back before he would be able to speak to her. So she got down on her knees and pulled his pants down. 
When he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head back, she smiled. "Now, let's get dirty and exorcise those pesky brain chatter, shall we?" Before he could reply, she took him full in her mouth and worshipped him with her love, absorbing every frustrated growl that ripped from his throat and every emotion that poured out of him with every roll of his hips. 
She pushed him to the edge and over until he found his release, and his loud cries echoed in the air. When he shattered around her, his body slumped onto the floor and into her arms.
Claire knew they had a long night ahead of them, so she cradled him, waiting patiently for his breathing to calm. Later after she bathed him, they would talk, but for now, she was contented just to hold him a little while longer, as she wondered how many of Jamie's demons she would have to slay tonight and if love would be enough to conquer his hell.
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Dear Readers,
Thank you all for your feedback from the previous chapter. I know it was a bit deep and dark, but I really did want to do Jamie's condition justice, and I must admit, I probably got carried away putting so much emphasis into it. But that's just me, I guess.
And as for the latest instalment,  I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.  I must admit it is moving a bit slow, but it's a necessary move to pull this story together as I cover loopholes and grounds. One day, you'll understand the logic behind it.😀 So have patience, my friends - all in good time. Stay safe for now and take care until next time. X
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squishymochisoo · 4 years
Text
expiration date || lee felix (ft. lee minho)
genre: angst, fluff, college au
pairing: lee felix x reader, lee minho x reader 
words: 5.1 k
synopsis: it’s been years since you fell in love with minho, who seems to have never liked you back. when felix enters your life along with several other new friends. maybe finally you would be able to move on from minho. maybe love did have an expiration date.
||
unrequited love
it’s normal for most of us to experience unrequited love.
the pining from afar, the small smiles and little laughs you let out when you see the other.
sometimes it was painful to watch the other, knowing that they would never be the other’s special person
sometimes it made you happy, seeing the other so happy.
sometimes it made you smile when you notice the little things the other did.
sometimes you stare at the ceiling when you’re in your bed, tears following your thoughts and only one question filling your head,
‘why did i have to fall in love with my friend?’
 ||
 “jisung why is it so cold – it’s only november” you shivered as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
“blame global warming i guess” jisung snorted beside you.
“i don’t know why a part of me thought that you would be kind enough to give me your jacket” jisung raised his eyebrows at your statement.
“and freeze? yea no thanks. i’d like to stay warm” jisung smiled sinisterly why waving his sweater paws at you. you scoffed and rolled your eyes
“what a best friend you are” your playful glare was interrupted by a figure walking towards the both of you.
 “y/n what are you doing? i told you to cover up!” minho nagged. you shrug your shoulders not knowing what to reply. you felt another chill pass through you, making you shiver once more.
“here put this on” minho handed to you his jacket, motioning for you to put it on. you felt your cheeks heat up, not from the cold but from minho handing to you his jacket.
you had been friends with minho for many years. at the age of 13, just 2 years after you met him, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding really hard whenever he did something for you. it may have been a just a friendly gesture, but it made your heart jump every time. you knew it was a stupid crush that had to go away, especially when you knew that minho would not feel the same way about you. but every time you stopped yourself from blushing or giggling, every time you manage to forget his smile, he enters your life once more with an even brighter smile. making you fall for him over and over again. it was a cycle that never ended.  
 even now at the age of 21, why did you find it so hard to let go of him?
 even when he dated or mentioned another name with a smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile looking at him happy, even when you heart was aching at the thought of him and his significant other.
 “y/n i need your help” minho ran up to you as you were walking home from school that day.
“i just don’t understand why she’s mad at me?” minho whined to you.
“just talk it out and pay more attention to her. maybe she just needs comfort and you weren’t there” you stated blankly while your mind in a frenzy. minho’s face lit up at your advice.
“thanks y/n! you’re such a great friend!” and with that he disappeared.
“yea.. i’m such a great friend” you muttered under your breath.
 it was normal that minho came to you for relationship advice, stating that jisung lacked the social skills to come up with decent advices regarding people. because of jisung’s lacking ability to give advices, you were stuck with the job. making you hear about minho and his significant other regularly over the years.
every time he came up to you, a part of you wanted to give a shitty advice. a part of you thought about giving an advice that could break them up because your heart couldn’t suffer anymore. and every time the devil stood on your shoulder telling to you put a crack in their relationship, you couldn’t.
you didn’t know why.
you’d witness the couple back together again the next day and your heart would ache once more.
why didn’t you put your happiness before you? why was it that you’d rather live with a broken heart than seeing someone you liked – no—loved in pain? somehow you figured it would be worth it in the end. a part of you thought that maybe, just maybe, minho would notice the way you liked him, and he would notice how you were there for him every time.
you knew it would never happen, but still a small part of you couldn’t help but wish and long for it.
it wasn’t like the two of you were best friends that shared secrets with each other. truthfully, the only reason why the both of you still talked was because of jisung.  
 ||
 “hey seungmin” you waved at the boy behind the counter of the convenience store. you placed your bag beside his and joined him.
the pay here wasn’t so great but it was hard to find another place that allowed you to work late into the night since you had classes in the morning. seungmin attended the same university as you and was also doing journalism. the both of you hit it off perfectly especially since you just met him last week. it wasn’t long until jisung entered the store, calling out for you.
“y/n! where art thou romeo” you held the urge to throw something at your embarrassing friend. when his eyes met yours, he ran towards the counter calling out your name once more. you could hear seungmin trying to stifle a laugh looking at jisung.
“look at the roomates wanted poster i made!” jisung shoved the poster into your face.
“i think i should majored in digital and visual arts instead of music.” jisung continued to boast. you stared at the poster which looked like jisung used clip art images from microsoft powerpoint and used a rainbow effect on wordart for the word ‘roommate’. it was definitely … eye catching.
 “wait! you printed it out? like a stack of those?” jisung nodded proudly holding a very thick stack of paper.
“why would you?? people find roomates online now! what happened to trying to save the earth?” you nagged as you saw the waste of paper.
“we could just pass it out in campus, that way we get to see them in real life. if they aren’t worthy, they don’t get the poster!” jisung retorted. you looked blankly at jisung not knowing what to reply with.
 “you guys are looking for roomates? my friends were just looking for a place to rent.” seungmin pointed out.
“i could let them know and pass them your number if you would like”
“as long as they’re not murderers, we would appreciate you telling them” you joked.
“just let me when they would like to look at the apartment if they are interested!”
 ||
 that’s how you found yourself a few days later, in your apartment with hyunjin and jeongin, who were also first years at the uni you were going to. oddly enough, the four of you hit if off very well. although the apartment was huge enough to house four adults, it was cheap to afford. well, it was cheap because it required so many touch ups and had to be refurbished before the four of you could call it home.
the four of you spend the week before school painting and moving furniture around. seungmin joining you most times to help you. even sometimes minho would come around, doing all the stupid things he usually did to make you feel nervous.
 |
 “okay finally we’re done!” you heard jeongin yell from the other room as he finished up painting the last empty patch on the wall. you laughed as you heard cheers echo all throughout the house.
“please please please! let’s go out for lunch! i don’t think i can take it anymore if i inhale more paint!” hyunjin shouted dramatically.
that’s how you found yourself being squeezed in between jisung and seungmin while hyunjin and jeongin sat on the opposite side of the table in the diner. jisung was busy discussing a with jeongin about what it would be to fall in love with a tree. both you and seungmin were just staring at the pair, silently judging them in your heads. hyunjin lifted up his head to face all of you from his phone.
“guys, is it okay if our friend joins us for lunch?” hyunjin looked at you and jisung, who agreed because the pair of you decided two days after meeting the trio that whoever they were friends with, were immediately their friends. hyunjin nodded excitedly before texting on his phone once more before putting it down, joining jeongin’s and jisung’s conversation about plants.
 ||
 “—like a plant fetish?” hyunjin replied. somehow both you and seungmin ended up joining the conversation.
“no that doesn’t make sense! falling in love with a plant is different from having a plant fetish!” you exclaimed. all five of you were so into the conversation that all of you didn’t realize the figure that stood at the end of the table listening in on the conversation.
“but you could have a plant fetish and fall in love with a plant at the same time” a deep voice stated from your right, scaring the five of you. you jumped back upon hearing hyunjin shriek in surprise.
“shut up hyunjin” seungmin kicked hyunjin from underneath the table. you stifled a laugh as you looked at the blonde boy who had a big smile on his face.
“hey! i’m felix. you must be y/n and jisung?” felix glanced at the both of you.
“nice to meet you! have a seat” you gestured towards the empty seat beside jeongin.
it was not a surprise to you when you found out that you and jisung fit right into their group of friends. it was as if the both of you just belonged there, sitting with the other four boys laughing and talking.
that was how your friendship with the four boys began to grow.
 ||
 before you realized it, the first week of school started. you spent the whole week before hanging out with the boys. sometimes watching movies in your apartment. sometimes walking around the park. there was a day where all six of you lied down in the living room not doing anything. and somehow it was still one of the best days of your life.
 message from felixie
felixie: you going with the others after class?
you: nope! minho said he needed to meet me so i’ll be walking back with him ^^
felixie: oh… okay then have fun! ~~
 you sighed as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. you continued to wait on the bench just outside one of the buildings in campus, staring at the students flocking into a lecture room. you glanced at the other bench to see a couple together typing on their laptops while the chatted. the smile on their face so bright, showing everyone how happy they were together.
you glanced at your phone as you count the minutes. you gave minho another text as you continued to stare at the sky watching the clouds. soon minutes turned to an hour and you were left with no response from minho.
you sighed. it wasn’t the first time anyways. you were stupid enough to think that he would show up. you dragged your feet across campus to find minho talking with his friends and a girl around his arm.
you didn’t know what to feel. sad? because he ditched you? or relieved? that you didn’t have to hear him talk about whoever that girl was. did you feel betrayed, that he would just ditch you? or angry that you were so unimportant to him, that he forgot about you?
you trudged towards your apartment so in thought that you didn’t realize you were just standing outside an ice-cream parlour. you wanted to enter the shop, hoping that ice cream would lighten your mood. but when your eyes shifted, looking in the shop all you could see was the couples inside enjoying themselves, hearing them laugh together, all of them looked so happy. you were surprised when you felt a shadow stop beside you, sheltering you from the sun’s glare. looking up you saw felix. he looked confused at first before offering a small smile and grabbed your arm and dragged you into the parlour.
felix actually saw you left campus without minho. he was confused as to why you were alone, when you mentioned walking home with minho, who he has only met twice briefly. felix followed you quietly behind you as you trudged your way home. when felix saw you looking into the shop sadly, something in him broke when he saw your sad face.
felix sat you down and motioned you to wait as he ran towards the counter. he came back with two cones.
“here!” felix thrusted the ice cream in your direction “ your favourite right? lime sherbet?” felix questioned. he remembered you mentioning in passing that hyunjin finished up the lime sherbet that you bought a few days back. you stared at the ice cream in his hand and him. how had he remembered such a small detail about you? he’s only known you for about a week, but it feels like he knows more about you than minho.
‘minho’ your thoughts came back to him.
stupid brain why did you have to think about him
 felix sighed softly as he realized the downcast on your face. felix place his cone into the same hand he was using to hold yours. he grabbed your palm with his free hands and pressed your cone into your hands.
“stop thinking so hard” felix smiled at you before patting the back of your hand. you nodded, staring at him. the two of you spent hours there, filled with laughter and smiles from a certain sunshine. you couldn’t deny that talking and laughing with felix, eased the pain and the doubt you had in your head and heart.
“y/n, i thought you were supposed to be going home with minho” felix gently brought up the topic.
“oh, uhh, he forgot we were meeting i guess,” you managed to get out, you tried not to let your true emotions show. but somehow felix caught on to it. felix’s smile dropped a split second, when he had to see you upset once more, before his smile grew on his face once more.
“well, i think that’s a good thing.” your eyes widened at his statement.
“because if not i wouldn’t be having such a good time with you” you let out a laugh watching his eyes crinkle.
 ||
 you sat on the bench once more staring at your palm as you watched the rain droplets fall onto your palm. you were supposed to be meeting minho once more. but as you sat there in the rain. you knew he wasn’t coming. you were upset and angry. the both of you agreed on meeting today so he could pass to you what he wanted to a few weeks ago.
you stared at the droplets on your hand, only to find that the rain had stopped. you looked up, a part of you hoping to see minho, but you were surprised to see felix.
“y/n… what are you doing out in the rain…” felix let out softly, sheltering you with his umbrella.
“minho” you mumbled softly as you leaned a little into felix for warmth. felix wrapped his arms around your shoulder pulling you up, as if asking you to stand up.
“c’mon let’s go dry you off and get you coffee.”
minho ditching you seemed more frequent in the few weeks. you somehow knew he wasn’t going to show up but somehow you always waited for him. and most of the times felix came to your rescue.
you usually went home with the other boys so whenever you weren’t around, jisung would mention you waiting for minho. after the ice cream incident, felix always waited until he was sure you met up with minho before leaving. after it happened a few times, he just didn’t trust minho anymore. why would you still show up and wait for over an hour when you knew he wasn’t going to appear?
but a apart of felix was relieved that minho didn’t show up. every chance minho ditched you, was a chance for felix to hang out with you.
you were grateful to felix. even when you were upset or angry, he managed to get a laugh out of you. the two of you becoming close was inevitable.
 ||
 it was only a week later when you were dragged aside from your lunch table with the other four boys. you tried to pull your arm away from the other, whose gripped only tightened on yours. you hissed loudly as you felt pain erupt from your arm. you glared at the person.
“minho! what are you doing?” you hissed louder.
“i could ask you the same thing” minho looked at you with pointed look. minho took your silence as confusion.
“why are you hanging out with those boys so much?” minho questioned pointed to the table to were sitting at.
“where’s jisung? why isn��t he eating with you?” minho questioned further.
“you can’t stay with them when jisung is not there. it’s not safe. you shouldn’t be so open with them, you just met them last month. what if they’re bad news?” minho kept asking and nagging. you felt a slight anger travelling through you. you were wondering what gave him the right to say those things about your friends. you wanted to retort back about how they were more present in your life than he was. that they probably knew more about you than he did. that they cared more about you than he did. but before you could even say anything – he replied.
“look – i just don’t want you to get hurt. i care about you okay?” your heart softened a little. your head telling you to stop forgiving him, to storm away and to give a cold shoulder. but somehow, you found yourself giving the man in front of you a small smile. a smile that meant forgiveness.
why did you just give in? why did you just forgive him? why did you forgive him for what he said? why did you forgive him for what he had done?
 ||
 three months later, everything was still the same. your friendship with the boys grew deeper. you hung out more with felix than the rest. it was as if the both of you had a connection, that neither could explain. you knew when felix needed someone to lean on and felix you when you needed cheering up.
“here, you can come here and cry your heart out, if i’m not there okay?” felix showed you the rooftop on one of the campus’ buildings.
that’s how that rooftop became your spot with felix. a place to go when you needed comfort. a place to go when you needed to relax. and a place to go to hide from everyone else other than felix. some nights you and felix would just lay and stare at the clouds and stars. you lie in silence. but the silence was never deafening, it was comforting.
 ||
 it was your birthday that day. a special day for you. you felt like your birthday was the one true day that you had to be happy. the five boys had wished you exactly at midnight, which was not a surprise to you.
you were happily skipping only to hear your name being mentioned in a conversation. to walked softly towards the voices, only to find minho with his friends, chan and changbin.
“hey isn’t it y/n’s birthday today? i heard jisung shouting at hyunjin about plans they had for tonight” changbin mentioned as the two sat behind the building, lighting a cigarette.
“why should i care? it’s just their birthday.” minho laughed as he took a drag. you swallowed wanting to step away.
“who’s y/n?” you heard chan ask.
“oh just some friend of minho that is in love with him. don’t even know why they still follow you around.”
“oh the one he kept complaining about?” chan added. you watched as minho continue to smoke as he heard he friends insulting you further.
was he not even going to defend you?
your jaw trembled as you tried to hold in your tears, your legs taking you away from them. you hurried moved your hand into your bag, finding your phone and pressing on jisung’s contact number.
 “hey y/n!” jisung’s cheeriness echoed through the phone. you could hear the ruckus in the background and managed to make out the voices of seungmin and jeongin.
“hey.. do you think we could postpone the party later?” you feigned a small laugh, hoping that it would help to stop the tears from arriving.
“what why? we already booked the place though”
“i’m just tired… it’s fine you just go and have fun there okay?” upon hearing your tone, jisung decided not to press on.
 you hung up with a sigh as you glanced at the dark sky. why did it have to rain every time you felt this way.
you found yourself walking towards the rooftop you spent most of time on these days. you laid down staring at the sky for what felt like hours. the thoughts running in your head making you more confused the more you tried to piece them together.
you were trying to understand your feelings as your brain replayed the scene you saw just now repeatedly.
 you felt angry. you felt betrayed. you felt sad.
 you swore to yourself that minho wasn’t worth it. he wasn’t worth your time. why would he pretend to be your friend for so long? why did he talked bad about behind your back? why didn’t he correct his friends? did he know all this time that you were in love with him?
with these questions you had, you found more tears staining your cheeks. a blurry sight of a hand holding a can of drink came into your line of vision. you sniffled as you quickly wiped away the tears from your eyes, staring at felix.
“hey i was worried when i got a call from jisung that you weren’t going to the party.” he handed you a muffin. you glanced at it, confounded.
“oh.. i was from the bakery. you mentioned that you liked it a while back but couldn’t go there regularly because it was too far away.” felix scratched the back of his neck nervously under your stare. you felt more than touched. the bakery was about 45 mins away from campus. did he really travel that far just to buy a muffin you loved?
you felt more tears run down your face.
“why? oh my god, do you hate this muffin? did i remember what you said wrongly.” felix exclaimed worriedly as he grabbed your cheeks gently. you shook you head.
“just touched” you mumbled. felix smiled before moving his fingers across your cheeks to wipe away the tears. you felt your heart beating faster. honestly, it has been happening for the past few weeks. sometimes you’d find yourself being shy and blushing around felix. some nights you would fall asleep thinking about him. some days just staring at the texts he leaves you.
a part of you knew better than to assume that his kind deeds were advances.
 ‘he loved skinship, this was normal for him. he did this to all his friends.’ you thought
 it was as if felix could read your mind or feel your doubts. felix shifted closer towards you, his hands still on your cheeks.
“i like you y/n. i really really really like you. seeing you cry, seeing you upset, breaks my heart. every time i see you this way, all i want to do is kiss you and cuddle you to tell you that i’m here, that i want to be by your side. to let you lean on my shoulder.” your eyes shifted, feeling a little shy from the sudden confession. felix let out a small smile before planting a kiss on your cheek.
“here’s a preview” he let out a deep giggle that had you blushing harder.
“i like you too felix” you whispered as you leaned into his embrace.
 “i know” he smiled cheekily before felix grabbed your hand pulling you up. “c’mon let’s get dinner”
 ||
 you thought that it would be awkward between the both of you and your other friends. but nothing really felt that different. during lunch, the six of you still do stupid things together. you still had stupid conversations together. the only thing that changed was that felix would hold your hand under the table during lunch. or that you would cuddle during movie nights at your apartment with the others. felix loved flirting with you and every time he did, jisung and hyunjin would gag loudly causing you to laugh and kiss felix on the cheek. only aggravating jisung and hyunjin more since they had to watch the pda all the time.
jeongin and seungmin weren’t even surprised when you first told them about the two of you getting together. it was as if they already knew it was going to happen.
your week had just changed and took a 180 turn. you finally realized what it felt to be so happy. it was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulder. if you and felix were hard to separate before you dated, now the both of you were inseparable.
 minho spend days watching the two of you as you held hands walking from lectures to lectures. he saw how you kissed felix goodbye. he saw how your face would light up when you catch felix waiting for you outside the lecture room.
“what” he grumbled as changbin passed him a cigarette which he declined.
“why are you so pissed off these days.” chan mentioned staring at minho
“yea crankypants what’s up”
minho’s eyes followed your figure as you hugged felix.
“oh y/n and their boyfriend?” changbin stated causing a growl to erupt from minho.
“he’s nice, he’s from australia too. talked to him a while ago. he’s funny too” minho’s blood boiled as chan complimented felix.
 what did he have that minho didn’t? if anything felix was just average looking compared to him. he knew you for a much longer time than felix did.
only at this moment did he realize how much his heart beat faster at the thought of you.
 ||
  minho ran towards campus the next day. after his classes he ran to the flower shop just around the corner and ran back looking for you. minho’s eyes landed on jisung and his friends. he rushed towards them panting.
“w-where’s y/n” minho managed to get out. jeongin glanced at minho wearily.
“they’re at the library studying while waiting for lix to get out of class” minho was about to leave just as he heard jeongin’s reply, only to be stopped by jisung’s arm grabbing minho’s. minho tried to yank his arm away, only to have jisung clamp his fingers tighter into his flesh.
“what jisung” minho voiced out crankily. jisung clenched his jaw in anger and looked into minho’s eyes, a glint of irritation seen in his eyes.
“don’t tell me that you were going to –” jisung glanced and gestured with his head towards the flower’s in minho’s hands. hyunjin finally understood the situation.
“dude, what the fuck. you can’t do that” hyunjin gasped, narrowing his eyes. minho was furious at hyunjin’s response.
“who are you to decide what i do or don’t do? i’ve known y/n longer, i think i know better and i know that y/n deserves better.” jisung breathed in deeply.
“and you haven’t been there at night when y/n cried. you weren’t there for y/n when y/n cried because you kept ditching them. you weren’t there for y/n when y/n needed a shoulder to lean on. you weren’t there for y/n when your friends talked crap about them. you didn’t even defend y/n when your friends talked crap about y/n on their birthday. who are you to know what y/n deserves? if anything you don’t deserve y/n. “ minho didn’t realize you heard what his friends said about you. it wasn’t that he agreed with them, he just didn’t bother to correct them.
“they liked you for so long. do you even know how hard it was for me, minho? to watch my best friend like someone so much that they didn’t even prioritize their own happiness? y/n was always putting you first. always solving your relationship problems, always there for you when you weren’t for y/n. and finally y/n gets to have the happy story and gets to have the happy ending. a happy story that they deserve. why can’t you just let y/n be happy? do you think about anyone else for a second?” jisung paused.
“you can’t have everything you want minho” jisung let out a sigh glaring at minho.
“don’t confuse y/n. especially when they’re already so happy with felix” jisung stated blankly before dragging hyunjin and jeongin away from minho.
minho didn’t realize that all these time, he should’ve realized how important you were to him. how you were right there in front of him and he couldn’t even give you the love you deserved. minho didn’t have excuses. he knew he was in the wrong. he hurt you and he stopped you from your happiness. he couldn’t give you the happiness you experienced with felix. and he was going to accept that someday.
his heart still ached as he saw you during lunch with felix. his heart ached as he saw you holding hands. his heart ached when he saw you laughing, the smile never leaving your face when you with felix.
that’s when minho realized that love did have an expiration date.
someday he was going to be able to accept that y/n doesn’t smile at him like that anymore. that y/n can’t even look him in the eye. that y/n doesn’t even need minho in their life. minho needed y/n and he was going to accept it someday that he had to learn how to live without y/n in his life.
 y/n’s love for him expired.
but minho still had a long way to go before his love for y/n expired.
someday, he would accept that y/n didn’t need him to be happy.
||
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thanks! 
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Note
Soft sentence starter prompts! “You’re not in bed. I came looking for you.” OR “If you keep doing that, I’m going to scream— stop smiling, I mean it!” OR [Puts feet on the other’s lap], your choice! (Also, if you can make, “My gut does the weirdest things around you— acrobatic things.” work then by all means because that's the funniest thing I can imagine someone saying.)
CHALLENGE ACCEPTED: “My gut does the weirdest things around you— acrobatic things.”
In which Delver has buried himself in a Cipher job, forgetting that he is traveling with three other people who have not agreed to so much downtime...
“Delver. Enough is enough. We need to keep moving.”
“Alright, alright. We will. I just...”
Leaning against the doorframe, Kyri watched as Delver trailed off to mutter something under his breath, his blood-shot eyes fixed on the mess of pages splayed beneath his fingers. When was the last time the fool slept? she thought, the sides of her jaw aching until she forced herself to unclench her teeth. If nothing else, it was good to know Sylda hadn’t been lying when she’d said Delver had a unique kind of focus. Admittedly, her exact words had been terrifying and obsessive, but there was nothing about the stubborn man that Kyri found particularly terrifying. No - he was just a scholar, neck-deep in his passions and willing to stay there until he died of old age.
Unfortunately, they did not all have time for such luxury.
“It has been almost a full turn. You said this would not take more than a few days.”
“I was wrong.” He spoke like a person used to having the last say, his words clipped, his tone final. “Clearly.”
Oh, he would have to do much better than that.
“Clearly. When was the last time you sle---”
---“Kyri, please. I need to focus. Just give me a few more days.” His eyes never left the pages. They barely blinked. “I’ll have it done. I’ll get it. Then we can collect our sicets and be on our way."
“There are other ways to make coin. Faster ways. Sylda said---”
--- “Sylda would rob a blind man giving her sweets if the poor sod forgot to string his purse tight enough. No. This... this is better.” Paper rustled as he shifted one aside, replacing it with another, his brow set in a deep frown. “Can’t get arrested for this. Usually.”
Sighing, Kyri reached up and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “We don’t need the coin, Delver. We have enough between the four of us.”
To her surprise, Delver gave their conversation enough mind to bark a dry laugh. “We do, do we? Sure, you might have a few sicets left over, but Sylda and I share the same miserable purse. And Taelan?” He snorted, although his attention had clearly drifted back to his work, the flow of his words slowing to a trickle. “The lad... he was bondsworn. Didn’t even own his own body for most of his life, yet alone anything else. No... this... this is how we do things. We need coin. I’ll get it done.”
No. This is how you do things. It took a few moments before Kyri realised the pain in her palms was from her own nails, biting crescents into her flesh. Stubborn bastard. She uncurled her fingers one by one, taking the time to force her temper back into compliance; squash it down so she didn’t unleash it carelessly. Just because Delver had a point didn’t mean she had to like how he made it. But now was not the time for that conversation. In truth, she wasn’t sure he was even hearing her right now. With what he was saying - the cruel carelessness of it - he might not even be hearing himself.
“How much do you have left?” Levering herself off the wall, Kyri moved into the room, her nose wrinkling as she approached. It seemed bathing, along with eating and sleeping, formed three parts of the same distant memory for him. Pausing at his side, she leaned over, peering at a page of what looked like incomprehensible squiggles and symbols, crossing one another at senseless angles. Beside the page was a second piece of parchment, its contents partially constructed, a scattering of words and phrases in more familiar scripts perched at the tip of Delver’s quill. Somehow, some way, he had pulled them from the maelstrom of their source. How he even found one common term was beyond her understanding, yet alone several. She would never claim he was not talented. Impressive, even.
But also exhausting.
“Go. Please.” Delver’s voice pulled Kyri out of her quiet regard. The request was almost strained, as he muttered something unintelligible and shifted the pages slightly. Apparently her shadow had fallen one of the page’s corners. There wasn’t even any writing on it. “You’re making it impossible.”
Kyri frowned. “To...?”
“Divider’s Own - focus, Kyri!”
“Focus?” She straightened, her frown deepening as she folded her arms across her chest. “I was not speaking.”
Delver huffed, penning down another word and scratching it out in the same terse movement. “I know, I know. It’s not-- look. My gut does the weirdest things around you— acrobatic things. I need it not to right now, so if you would please just...”
With that, he jutted his quill towards the door, a few droplets of ink scattering on the floor, his gaze still fixed on his precious papers. Taken aback, Kyri stared at him for a moment, wondering if his clearly overtaxed mind would ever catch up to the mad words that had just tumbled from his lips. But those same lips were already moving again, forming silent phrases, testing them, casting them aside with a frustrated grunt. His quill quickly returned to the parchment - writing, pausing, scratching out - and Kyri realised that there was really nothing more that could be said. Not right now, at least.
“Fine. But I will be back at nightfall.” She leaned even further forward, planting her hand firmly on the desk. “Finished or not, Delver, you will eat, you will sleep, you will bathe. Understood?”
“Yes, yes, fine.” Delver waved a distracted hand, as if to brush hers off the table. Then he hesitated, midway through re-inking his quill, his expression turning thoughtful. “Give me an extra hour tonight. After sundown.”
Kyri cocked a brow. “Why?”
“I can eat in the bath.”
She stared blankly at him for a moment, then groaned and cast her gaze to the stone ceiling. “Shei-tah preserve me - fine. If that is what it takes.” Despite her frustration, she lifted her hand and began to move back towards the door. “I will see you then.” Pausing, she glanced back at Delver, his fingers tangled in his copper hair, hunched over his work, and added more gently, “Just... do not push yourself too far.”
Whether her concern reached his ears or not, she couldn’t tell. She could never tell with him; he was not one to carry such things where they could be seen. But, the rest of their conversation aside, she was content with her parting words. That would have to do.
So, softly, she shut the door
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dancinginadaydream · 4 years
Text
Bad Habit
Summary: It was difficult being the boyfriend of The Boy Who Lived, especially when you have a past like Draco's. Between the mounting pressure of his work as a healer, harassment from the press, and increasing jealousy of the friendship Harry had with his school girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, Draco blew up and walked out of Harry's life. But both he and Harry found themselves seeking bad habits, the need for each others comforts. Except, they were both too proud to say it, instead wallowing in self-pity until an accident forces them to talk. 
Word Count: 5,772
Available on: Archive of Our Own
Listen to the Song
                                                Full Story Below
You always said that I'd come back to you again, 'cause everybody needs a friend, it's true. Someone to quiet the voices in my head, make 'em sing to me instead, it's you…
Draco was in the break room at St. Mungo’s hospital, a quaint wizarding hospital hidden within muggle London. He was anxiously fidgeting with the pages of a copy of Witch Weekly, left there by one of the other healers. As he fidgeted, his mind wandered into the events of the last week. The events involving one Harry James Potter. One, however, struck him impossibly. The event that started it all.
Draco had just come home from another long day at the hospital. To say Draco looked as rough as he felt was an understatement. The dark sags under his eyes took over his features, causing the man to look almost skeletal. Draco’s white-blonde hair strewn across his face, showing the signs of stress and exhaustion. There had been an accident involving several members of the Auror department, leaving the healers (both trained and in-training) stretched thin. Of course, while tending to many of the Aurors, Draco’s mind had continued to wander to his lover, praying that he wasn’t assigned to the task that risked the lives of the Aurors he treated. But Harry wasn’t there and Draco couldn’t determine whether or not that was a good thing. However, regardless of the tingling worry, Draco continued with his duties.
When he came into the flat he and Harry shared, he kicked off his shoes, hoping that he could sulk to the living room and slither into Harry’s arms for some comfort. However, when he reached the living room, he was met with the unsightly image of Harry and Ginny sat uncomfortably close watching a romantic comedy on their muggle T.V.. Draco’s exhausted feature immediately turned into anger. He dropped his book bag, the thump causing Ginny and Harry to jump and stare at Draco.
“Don’t mind me,” Draco mumbled, ignoring the bubbling jealousy in the pit of his stomach. He stormed through to the kitchen, whipping out his wand to fill the kettle with some water. He needed a strong cup of chamomile after the long day he’d had.
Harry immediately stood, going to follow Draco into their kitchen. “Draco, wait!”
Meanwhile, Ginny grabbed her things. “I’ll be going… See you around, Harry.”
Harry looked at her in exasperation and nodded as he stepped into the kitchen.
Draco was banging things around as he cleaned things the muggle way. He aggressively wiped a spot on the counter, trying to relieve some frustrations. Harry hovered at the door, a lump in his throat. He could see the anguish on his lover’s face, knowing he’d been caught in a precarious position, especially considering the history he and Ginny had.
“Babe…” Harry all-but whispered, the lump still stuck in his throat.
Draco ignored the other, continuing to wipe at the spot on the worktop, tears threatening to spill from his grey eyes. Harry watched for a few moments more before stepping forward to rest his hand over Draco’s.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the surface, Draco.”
Draco flinched his hand away and tried to move to a separate spot on the worktop, removing crumbs with the cloth. After a few beats of silence, Draco threw the cloth down onto the work surface. He turned to stare at Harry, allowing Harry to see the full extent of his exhaustion and worry.
“Tell me why,” Draco stared at Harry, the tears starting to slip down his porcelain skin, “tell me why she was here. When you were meant to be at work…”
It was no secret that Harry and Ginny were expected to end up together, the power couple the Wizarding World was meant to have. Draco had been reminded of that often enough. He knew that before the war concluded, Harry had planned to marry Ginny for the sake of appearances. But even then, coming to their senses wasn’t enough for the worry in the back of Draco’s mind. After-all, he was a reformed Death Eater.
“We were just hanging out, we’re still friends, Drac.” Harry sighed softly. Ginny was a constant sore point in their relationship, the jealousy and worry that Draco held towards her. “Draco, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that Ginny and I are just friends. I don’t feel that way for her anymore. Not since the War.”
Draco folded his arms across his chest, almost hugging himself, but still threatening in stance. He’d managed to control his tears, a talent he’d learned from his years of abuse at the manor. Should the opportunity arise, he knew not to let people see his vulnerabilities, no matter who they were.
“Please, Draco, believe me when I say she’s just a friend.”
And that’s when Draco scoffed, running his tongue behind the back of his lips. He couldn’t help but feel a laugh in the back of his throat. He’d spent the past three years convincing himself that. But it was still never enough. Between seeing them watch films together and Weasley’s snarky comments, Draco had felt below adequate.
The following argument between them, left both Draco and Harry in tears. Arguments weren’t rare in this flat, after-all, they were once mortal enemies. Except their petty arguments changed from snide comments regarding school to their domestic lives and jealousy.
Except this argument was different. This argument was the last argument.
“I’m clearly holding you back, Potter.” Draco roared, his vulnerabilities clear as the night sky. “You were never meant to end up with me of all people. You should be with the Weasley girl. The girl everyone would approve of.”
Harry blinked at him a few times, heart racing. “What do you mean, Draco?”
“Don’t be idiotic, Potter, for once in your life. I’m saying this,” Draco made a gesture between them, “isn’t working. It won’t work.”
Harry felt a warm tear drip from his chin as he watched Draco carefully. “So that’s it? We’re through?”
Draco remained silent and walked out of the room, ignoring the thumping sound in his chest. He grabbed his trunk and began to back some essential clothes.
A month later, and Draco couldn’t function without Harry. Each day started the same, alone and cold in the spare bed of Pansy Parkinson’s murky flat. He hadn’t so much as looked at a plate of food, unless Pansy was almost forcing it down his throat. He’d fallen back into a pit of deep depression, much like the one before the war.
Hate to say that I love you. Hate to say that I need you. Hate to say that I want you. But I do…
“Harry,” Hermione said carefully, moving dirty laundry and discarded Prophet’s around with her feet as she made her way towards the figure curled on the sofa. “It’s been a week... You haven’t been to work. Please talk to me…”
Harry’s positioning didn’t move, he barely blinked as he stared blankly at the ceiling above him. Truth be told, Harry was as depressed as Draco, if not worse. All motivation had ceased, he hadn’t even showered since Draco walked out on him.
“Harry, we’re worried.” She said, crouching by his head. She placed a careful hand over Harry’s, ignoring the strong stench of body-odour coming from her friend. “Please, Harry… Talk to me.”
Harry slowly turned his head to look at Hermione, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted.
“You need him don’t you?”
Silence from Harry gave her the answer she needed. After a moment she stood and ran a hand through her hair. Never within their nine years of friendship had she seen Harry as depressed and dark as this, and it scared her witless. However, being the responsible one of their trio, Hermione took it upon herself to clean around Harry. He was never the cleanest of people, but he still tried for the sake of Draco. But now Draco’s absence reverberated around them. Instead of a warm familiar domestic feeling surrounding them, the flat felt cold and empty.
After having cleaned the flat, Hermione had summoned Ron to come and help her wash Harry. It was something they knew would embarrass their friend once he’d sobered from this, but it was necessary in order to help with his mental health.
“Come on, mate, let’s get you washed.” Ron said, lifting Harry from the sofa as Hermione ran a bath for him. There was no fight from Harry, leaving Hermione and Ron even more worried than before.
Harry stood weakly, staring at the bathroom tiles as Ron and Hermione undressed him. They helped him into the bath, sharing glances of worry with each other. The bathing process was uncomfortable for all of them, but they didn’t much care, knowing Harry would feel at least somewhat better once he’d washed. Once Harry was washed, they dressed him and led him to the bedroom for a sleep. However, one thing they hadn’t anticipated was Harry’s emotional reaction to the bedroom.
Many of Draco’s things were missing, all his necessities, hitting Harry like a brick. He hadn’t been in this room since Draco left. The bed remained untouched, Draco’s scent still lingering atop the cold sheets. Once Harry’s head hit the pillow, he balled a piece of Draco’s pillow in his fist. He let out an anguished cry and pulled the pillow closer to him. He was reminded of that night. He was reminded that Draco left him… Draco was gone and Harry wasn’t sure he would ever come back, and that thought scared him more than the idea of Voldemort.
Ron and Hermione decided to lie on either side of Harry, both pulling him into a hug to try and ground him.
Bad habit, I know, but I'm needin' you right now. Can you help me out? Can I lean on you?
It didn’t matter what Draco did throughout his day, there was never a time that Harry didn’t occupy his thoughts. Draco could be knee-deep in accidents at St. Mungo’s, yet Harry’s presence still held the back of his mind. Yet he pressed on. Since Draco stormed away from Harry two weeks ago, he had picked up as many shift’s as he could, often doing double shifts just to keep himself from breaking.
When he was forced into an hour-long break, Draco took a seat on the sofa in the break room. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly. Stopping was not what he had wanted. Stopping meant that he had time to think about Harry and the incredible fuck-up he had made. Draco wanted nothing more than to go back and fall into their bed, to pull Harry close into his body, to take in Harry’s musk. But Draco was too much of a coward to go back with his tail between his legs. He was the one who walked out, who left Harry and ended their relationship. He couldn’t bear to face Harry again, sometimes begging Pansy to go and get his things so he didn’t have to see the other again. Pansy, of course, refused point blank to go and retrieve Draco’s things for him.
Trying to do anything he could to distract his head from that desperation, Draco leaned forward and took an edition of The Daily Prophet from the table. As soon as he read the headline, his heart sank.
THE BOY WHO LIVED FINALLY SEES SENSE? FLING WITH DEATH EATER IN TATTERS. FULL STORY ONE PAGE 6.
Instead of bearing it anymore interest, Draco threw the paper across the breakroom, a yell of agony leaving his throat. He couldn’t take it anymore, the anxiety attack flooded him. His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, his heart raced almost ten times faster than its usual pace. Before his anxiety attack got any worse, another healer came in. They immediately went to Draco, doing their best to soothe him. There was no amount of magic in the world that could help Draco, they just had to ride it out and attempt to ground him before sending for their supervisor.
Soon enough, Pansy was there, a some-what sympathetic smile on her face as she came to pick up Draco. He was placed on leave to rest, but they all knew that it wouldn’t keep him away for long.
Sun don't wanna come out. Can you help me out? Can I lean on you?
Harry was slowly starting to move about again. He hurt a lot less than he did the moment it had sunk in that Draco had left him. He had returned to work, but was assigned to paperwork until he could focus on fieldwork. This was at the request of Hermione, begging him to take a step back until he was himself again. Reluctantly he agreed. Although, the way he was feeling, he wouldn’t have minded if the job had killed him. But he had to think of the people around him, he knew that wasn’t fair on them.
However, there was nothing Harry Potter hated more than paperwork. It did nothing to distract himself from Draco. He felt pathetic, constantly thinking of his ex-boyfriend. But whether Draco liked it or not, there was no one else for him. Ever since that fateful night in their Eighth year of Hogwarts, Harry hadn’t thought to look twice at anyone else. He fell hard and fast for Malfoy. He realised it was a build up through all their years at Hogwarts, but the love he felt for Malfoy hit him all at once.
You make me feel like I'm floatin' off the ground, above this little town, you do. Look at me smile with tears in my eyes. I love the way you lie, I do…
Harry had decided that he wanted to take time to have a break from studying and relax, so he realised that there was no place better than the prefect’s bathroom. Once he had gotten there, he quickly undressed and lowered himself down in the water. He rested his head back against the wall of the large bath and closed his eyes. Since deciding to return to Hogwarts for his final year, Harry had been hounded by fangirls, all eager to get his attention. Since his return to Hogwarts, Harry had been dumped. Ginny had seen something in him that he hadn’t realised. His blatant attraction to men. He tried to deny it, but he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time, and maybe, just maybe, she was right.
Deep in thought, Harry hadn’t heard the door click open. He hadn’t heard the footsteps of none other than Draco Malfoy. It was clear Draco had the same thoughts as Harry, a need to relax and distract himself. When Draco had laid eyes on Harry, he felt his heart flutter. Of course the flutters had happened numerous times before. They would happen when he caught Harry laughing at one of Weasley’s terrible jokes, they would happen when he caught Harry smiling, and they would happen everytime Harry walked into their shared dormitory. But they had never happened like this. Seeing Harry Potter in the bath, clearly relaxed, had sparked the flutters in a new way. Then it hit him that Harry was most probably naked under the water, and that caused a warm flush through his stomach and down to his thighs. Should he go? Should he stay and pretend he didn’t see Harry? Just as he was about to turn to go, having decided that it was better to leave Potter to it, a croaked voice filled the room.
“Malfoy, you may as well stay. It’s a communal bath.” Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes and turning to look at Malfoy.
Draco cleared his throat and replied, “fine. Look and I’ll hex you, Potter.”
“Like I would, Malfoy.”
And yet, both of them wished so dearly to look. But Harry obeyed and closed his eyes again while Malfoy climbed into the otherside of the bathtub.
They sat in silence for a while, tension thick in the air. Of course, having been roomed together, they had grown closer and had somehow become friends, despite their explosive history. Yet neither of them realised how close the other wanted to be.
Draco couldn’t help but catch glimpses of Potter, sitting there in the tub. He felt exposed, but for some reason he didn’t mind this in the slightest. He just ached for Potter to touch him. Yet, that wasn’t ever going to happen. Potter was The Boy Who Lived and Malfoy, well, Malfoy was Death Eater on Parole.
Both boys jumped cruelly when they heard the familiar squeal of Moaning Myrtle. She soared through the air and around the bubbles in the water.
“Well, well, well,” she giggled, “you could cut the tension in here with a knife.”
The boys shared a nervous glance, gulping in unison.
“I hear whispers, you know. Your friends.” Myrtle giggled, floating to rest between the boys. “Whispering about your sexual tension.” She giggled once more, the drone annoying both boys.
“What could you possibly mean, Myrtle?” Draco almost hissed.
Myrtle shrugged and giggled, floating off towards the pipes.
Harry looked dumbstruck, blinking a few times and gulping the lump in his throat away. “I don’t understand her sometimes…”
Draco hummed in agreement, running a hand down his face. He was flustered enough without Moaning Myrtle coming in and causing trouble.
Harry gulped. He knew there was tension between them, but he didn’t know if Draco felt the same, so it couldn’t possibly be sexual tension.
Silence rang out between them for a while, until Harry gathered the courage to speak up once more.
“Do you think there might be sexual tension between us?” And there it was. As soon as he said it, he regretted the words. He wished he could take it back.
Draco stared at him for a minute, blinking a few times in confusion. Was this Harry’s way of saying he felt the same? Draco’s heart dropped as he tried to figure out what to say.
“Couldn’t possibly be.” He replied shakily, praying that Potter disagreed with him.
The boys found themselves moving closer to the other, their hearts racing.
“I guess there’s no way to find out, anyway.” Draco murmured once they were close enough to touch.
“Huh, you think so?”
“What are you saying, Potter?” Malfoy replied, half snapping at the other.
“Maybe we should test their theory. Prove to ourselves that there is no sexual tension or whatever.” He shrugged.
Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed, yet a scarlet blush filled his cheeks. “You’re insane, Potter.”
“Your blush says otherwise, Malfoy.”
“Oh fuck off.”
“Kiss me first. Then we’ll get to the bottom of the rumoured sexual tension.”
Draco thought about it for a moment. Of course he had to weigh up the options. On one hand, he could discover that Potter did not reciprocate any feelings and have his heart broken. Yet, on the other hand, Potter could reciprocate these feelings. There was no other way to know, he thought. Before he could say anything, his lips were on Potter’s, his heart acting before his mind.
Harry was slightly taken aback when Malfoy planted one on him, but once he had realised what was happening, he melted into the kiss. His heart was soaring as he kissed Malfoy. Any feelings he had for Malfoy were confirmed in that moment and he wished deeply for this moment to last. He couldn’t bear his heart breaking. Malfoy pulled away for a second, desperate to catch his breath, but his gaze never left Harry’s.
“That was..-” Harry breathed out.
“-Incredible.” Draco finished the sentence, the idea of shame leaving him.
Harry nodded and leant forward to resume kissing the other, cupping his cheeks in desperation. The kissing lasted a lot longer than they intended, and it was easy to assume that both boys had grown aroused by the action.
Quickly after their kiss, Malfoy and Potter grabbed their things and dressed, eager to get back to their dormitory. Yet once they were in their dorm, they simply laid side by side and talked for hours. By the time they fell asleep, curled in each other’s arms, their feelings had been aired and the spark to a newly found relationship had been ignited.
Hate to say that I'm lonely. Hate to say that I miss you. Hate to say that it's dark in here. But it's true…
A few more weeks had passed, and neither man had heard from the other. Draco hadn’t been round to collect the last of his things, and Harry hadn’t reached out to talk.
Pansy and Hermione had been talking, both very aware of how Harry and Draco were coping. Yet, they felt helpless. Nothing they could do or say was encouraging the men to talk about what had happened. Despite Pansy’s wishes, Hermione refused to lock them in a room together while they were both so fragile. Although, if Harry kept sulking, she would consider it more.
Meanwhile, Harry had returned to active duty within the Auror department. He needed to get back to work, desperate to keep his mind busy. Of course, he had to receive an evaluation on the matter before his superiors allowed him back on the field.
On his first active mission back, Harry concluded things were going smoothly, until there was an unexpected explosion. Aurors around them scrambled around to check for casualties. Ron was the one to see him. Ron was the one to see his best friend unconscious on the ground, several cuts and grazes covering his face and hands. Next to Harry, his glasses sat upside down and smashed. In a rush of adrenaline, Ron screamed for help, yelling Harry’s name. It seemed to Ron that everything moved in slow motion, nobody coming fast enough to help Harry.
“Weasley, apparate him to St. Mungo’s. NOW!”
And Ron did as he was told, holding onto Harry and apparating to the hospital.
Bad habit, I know. But I'm needin' you right now. Can you help me out? Can I lean on you? Been one of those days, sun don't wanna come out…
Suddenly, St. Mungo’s were on high-alert, every available healer poised and ready to support the incoming casualties. Draco was assigning people to beds, trying to allow for things to run as smoothly as possible. Yet, he was interrupted when he heard a familiar cry of a familiar name.
“PLEASE HELP! SOMEONE! IT’S HARRY POTTER!” Ron all but yelled, lifting Harry up into his arms.
Draco was frozen still, his heart dropping as he saw Harry almost lifeless in Ron’s arms. Multiple healers rushed past Draco, almost pushing him out of the way to get to Harry. Time had slowed down and Draco had felt a piece of his heart break, worry creeping up into the back of his throat as he choked back a sob. He had to be strong for this.
“His file! We need his file!” A healer yelled, checking Harry over for injuries so they knew what to do to heal him, as per their job.
Draco had run into the hallway, and collapsed to the floor. He felt the creeping panic attack flood him. This couldn’t be happening. His last memory of Harry could not be breaking up with him, he refused to let that happen. But he could scarcely move for the panic, frozen still in the moment.
“Malfoy.. You’re needed. You’re, uhm, you’re still Potter’s emergency contact. You’ve been released from your duties today.”
Draco was broken from his panic and looked up, tears still in his eyes. He nodded slowly and stood, his legs shaking beneath him. He was fearful of what he was going to see. Was he going to be met with Harry’s corpse? Was he expected to say his goodbyes and support Ron in spreading the news? The thought terrified him, yet his feet moved taking him towards the bed in which Harry was laid. When he reached the curtained off bed, Draco felt himself break again. Draco managed to take a seat next to Harry, watching him carefully. This was too much to handle. He felt as though he shouldn’t be there. Yet nothing could compel him to leave Harry’s side. In his observations of Harry’s injuries, Draco had realised that the other was, in fact, breathing. The sight of Harry’s chest rising and falling with each breath caused a wave of relief to flood through Draco. He wasn’t gone, not yet.
Malfoy sat there for hours, refusing to leave Harry’s bedside. He was terrified that Harry’s breathing would suddenly stop. Terrified that Harry’s injuries would be too severe and The Boy Who Lived would slowly slip away from him. No matter who asked him, Draco simply refused to leave his bedside.
It wasn’t until the next day that Potter stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips as he came back into consciousness. Malfoy was still there, snoozing away in the chair. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to Harry’s bedside, also. A wave of relief crashing through them as Harry stirred. It took him a few minutes to regain full consciousness, yet when he did, he caught sight of Draco immediately. The way he curled into a ball as he slept unmistakable, the mop of messy blonde hair atop of Draco’s head confirming that his former flame was there by his bedside.
“You gave us a bloody good fright there, mate.” Ron choked out, sounding relieved, yet tired.
“Wh-What happened?” Harry choked out, rubbing his aching head.
“There was an explosion. You- you were caught in it. I-It was touch and go for a while.” Hermione answered.
Harry nodded weakly. “A-And Malfoy, wh-why is he here..?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer. Even in his concussed state, Harry had assumed that he was there to gloat that they were separated. He worried that Malfoy was just here to remind them that they were over.
“He-” Hermione sighed, “he’s here because he’s worried, Harry. He hasn’t been doing good since- well, since you broke up. You scared us all, Draco especially.”
Harry nodded weakly, trying to process what she was saying. It was a lot to take in in such a short space of time. Yet, he couldn’t help but look at Draco. He admired the way he slept, finding comfort in the smooshed up snoring face. He knew it was a bad habit, admiring his ex as he slept. But it always brought him comfort, seeing how peaceful Draco was as he slept. Despite everything, he ached for Draco to be next to him, holding him. He ached for the familiar musk, the familiar grasp. Nothing was more comforting than Draco Malfoy in his arms.
Bad habit, I know. But I'm needin' you right now. Can you help me out?
Malfoy had eventually woken, he stretched out and then immediately panicked. He sat up with a shot, looking around him in worry as Harry wasn’t there. However, just as he stood up to go in search of Potter, Harry was wheeled back to his curtained off cubicle. Draco felt a rush of relief, yet again, when he laid eyes on Harry.
“Fuck, Harry, you’re awake!” He almost cried with glee, “you’re okay!”
Harry was slightly taken aback by Draco’s burst of happiness. After all, he had walked out on him just a few weeks prior. “Y-yeah..” he cleared his throat. “I woke up about four hours ago..”
Draco’s gaze hardened as he looked up to Weasley. “And why didn’t you wake me? Harry fucking Potter almost died and you didn’t think to wake me.” Draco snapped at Weasley.
“Enough, Malfoy! I told him not to wake you.” Harry snapped back. “You looked exhausted so I let you sleep.”
Draco’s glare softened ever so slightly and he folded his arms across his chest. He stood in silence for a moment before clearing his throat and sighing. “Well, I can see you’re alive. I best be leaving then. Get well soon, Potter.”
As Draco made to leave, Ron stood in front of him, holding his hand out to stop any further steps he could make. “You’re not going anywhere. You both need to talk and you’re not leaving until you’ve sorted whatever this thing is.” Ron looked between the two of them. “I may not like you very much, Malfoy, and I like you even less now. But you both need to sort your shit out because I really don’t fancy seeing Harry as broken as he is for much longer. Hermione and I will be outside to make sure you don’t leave, got it?”
Draco glared at Weasley, scoffing as he nodded. “Fine, whatever.”
Malfoy was good at pretending, he was particularly good at trying to numb his feelings around those who weren’t worthy enough to see his vulnerabilities. While he considered Harry to be worthy, he would be damned if he showed any weaknesses right now.
“Help me into the bed, Malfoy. This bloody wheelchair is uncomfortable.” Harry muttered.
Begrudgingly, Draco helped him, reminding himself that it was his job to do so, not because he owed Potter anything. Yet he did. He knew he owed Harry everything. Once Harry was back laying in the bed, Draco continued to stand, ignoring how good it felt to hold his former lover again.
“So..” Harry muttered, looking up at Draco,
“So.” The blonde replied.
The tension was thick in the air, neither one of them sure of what to say. Harry knew he had a lot to make up for, he knew he wasn’t as attentive to Malfoy and he knew it hurt him when he spent time with Ginny alone. He knew these insecurities yet he ignored them because of his own selfish nature. Yet Draco knew he shouldn’t have exploded like that, he shouldn’t have taken his hard day at work out on Harry. Harry was simply spending time with a friend, yet it hurt that he watched a romantic comedy with her.
“I’m sorry.” Harry said quietly, looking up at Draco with tears in his eyes.
Draco could feel himself melting, the ice wall he put up to hide his vulnerabilities was slowly being melted. “Harry.. I- you- you don’t need to apologise.”
“No, Draco, I do. I really need to apologise be-because I knew you didn’t feel comfortable with Ginny hanging around the flat when you weren’t there. I dismissed your feelings..” He said quietly.
Draco was taken aback. He wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that. “You-- you don’t need to apologise. I should have trusted you.” He gulped, anxiety taking over as he crossed his arms over his chest again.
Harry felt a twang of guilt once more, but he shrugged it off as he patted his bed, welcoming Draco to at least sit down. “Please, Drac, sit down and tell me why it bothers you.. Properly, so I know how to work around it next time.”
Draco sighed and reluctantly sat down next to Harry, fighting every instinct he had to climb into his arms. “Harry..”
“Draco, please. I-I want this, us, to work. I can’t be without you. I don’t want to fall into bad habits again. I need you to tell me why it bothers you.” Harry took Draco’s hand in his, thumbing small circles into the back of Draco’s hand.
Draco gulped and thought for a moment, allowing himself to melt into Harry’s touch. Draco was scared to say how he truly felt, fearful of the judgment it could bring. He sighed shakily and tried to think of how he really felt. He had snidely said it to Harry the night he left, but was that enough for Potter? Probably not.
“You were never meant to date someone like me. You were supposed to marry Ginny, she’s who you need in life, not me.” He gulped.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Draco. Ginny was the one who called it quits with me... She saw something between us that neither of us saw. Draco, when we got together, it was the most important night of my life to date… Any romantic feelings for Ginny evaporated. You’re the only one I wanted from that night on.”
The blonde sighed, running his hands down his face as he thought. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“B-but what about the headlines in the Prophet? They slandered you for our relationship, Harry. They attacked and hounded us for years, barely giving us a moment’s because The Boy Who Lived was never meant to end up with a Death Eater.”
“Former Death Eater. Reformed Death Eater.” Harry stated pointedly.
“Whatever, former, reformed, current. It doesn’t matter. You would be better with the Weasley girl. She could give you children, satisfy the press, she could be so much better for you and you know it, Potter.”
Harry felt his heart sink, blinking a few times as he processed what Draco had said to him.
“But I don’t want any of those things. I could deal with the press so long as you’re by my side, Draco.” Harry gulped. “I promise you, I can and will do better. Okay?”
“Okay,” Draco gulped in return. “I promise not to get too jealous over the Weasley girl. I have to work on that if I want you to stay in my life.”
Harry nodded. “We have a lot to work through, b-but we can only work through it together. We can’t call it quits when it gets too much.”
Draco agreed, his eyes fixated on Harry’s hands, still tracing circles on the back of his hand.
“Now, please, cuddle me. I really need a cuddle after everything.” Harry pouted.
A smile broke out on Draco’s face as he kicked off his shoes and curled up next to Harry, curling back into his arms.
In that moment, everything felt at peace again. Everything was right for them once again. Together they knew they could work everything out. They knew they were each other's bad habits. They knew they could lean on each other and it didn’t matter what happened, they could get through it, even in the moments they think would be hard on them. Each petty argument meant nothing in comparison to what they had.
Hate to say that I love you. Hate to say that I need you. Hate to say that I want you. But I do…
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ari-shipping-stuff · 4 years
Text
Monochrome Week 2020
Day Seven - [Fake Dating] AU
@monochromeweek
———
you people seem to be enjoying this au lmao
so i extended the storyline a bit for y'all. hope you enjoy
———
Weiss was in Blake's dreams. She wanted to panic. But how could she, honestly? She couldn't possibly feel distressed when the mere thought of Weiss made her feel so relaxed.
Blake picked a fuzzy dandelion from her front yard. It was dark already. Actually, rather early in the morning. But she couldn't sleep.
She didn't want to be faced with Weiss rejecting her. She didn't want to panic. She'd been on cloud 9 since that night at the restaurant. Even more so when they finally stood up to Henry. Weiss had been so much more carefree around her.
She could almost pretend they were dating for real.
Blake embraced her legs to her chest, pursing her lips. She stared forward at the white picket fence, contemplating the past few weeks. The last few perfect weeks.
Her phone buzzed next to her. Blake picked it up with her free hand, stretching her legs out on the dewy grass.
She clicked through the phone, checking the inbox.
The dark jabs of red in the contact's picture made her pause. Her finger hovered over the message as she read through the little preview.
I'm getting desperate, B...
Blake stared at it blankly, feeling her Cloud 9 evaporate. Replacing it, a dark, familiar feeling. She wanted to throw her phone across the yard. Hear it shatter. Feel the fact of him being unable to contact her anymore. An irrational fear mixed in with anger.
She clicked the message.
As she read through it, that feeling grew on her like toxic vines. Creeping around her chest. Squeezing tightly.
Blake turned off her phone, leaving him on seen. The vines seemed to pull back, but lingered near. Laying her phone back down beside her, she pulled her legs back to her chest, staring at the picket fence.
As she sighed, her dandelion blew away, little spring snowflakes flying into the night.
Blake just wished this would stop.
Saturday night. Weiss never imagined being in another rampant dance club so soon. But it was Yang's birthday, so she had to relent.
And Blake would be there. Of course, Weiss was coming.
But even if Weiss wasn't so infatuated with the mere thought of Blake, she still had to come. If not for Yang, then for her and Blake's apparent relationship (which she was enjoying very much, to her surprise).
The news had been absolutely buzzing for weeks. Internet or in person, there would be people eyeing them together. Or even just Weiss when she passed through the hall, a smug expression painted on her face like, 'Hah. I got her first.'
With the amount of attention they were getting, Weiss was somewhat surprised they hadn't heard from Adam yet. Especially with Blake's belief of him keeping tabs on her.
But regarding Blake, Weiss sensed something was off.
She looked distracted. Tired, even. She'd already downed two cosmopolitans within the hour and was already ordering another. Weiss couldn't possibly think of any other reason for her to be pushing her alcohol tolerance this much. Blake barely even took alcohol.
Weiss bit her lip, hesitating. Then she placed a soft hands on Blake's wrist.
"Uh.. Blake?"
Blake turned to Weiss attentively, and suddenly, Weiss felt absolutely ridiculous. Blake was perfectly sober anyway. Of course, she was. She clearly knew how much she was drinking. What was there to worry about?
Weiss shook her head, raising her own drink to her lips.
"Nothing," she said. "Just checking if you were still sober."
Blake snorted, licking her lips. Weiss could see the faint red stains on them, clear as day. She gulped down more of her Blue Lagoon.
"Actually, Weiss.." Blake winced. "There's been.. Something I wanted to talk to you about."
The pink on Blake's cheeks must've been coming from the neon lights from the ceiling.
"Oh?"
"Yep." Blake replied. But just as she began to speak, something caught Weiss's eye in the distance. She craned her neck, trying to see.
".. You know, it's been on my mind.. A-A while, and.. I wanted to..—" Blake looked up at Weiss nervously. Her face fell as she realized her attention was somewhere else. Though she had to admit, it was a bit annoying that this thing could steal her attention so easily.
"Um.. Weiss?"
Blake turned, searching the club for whatever (or god forbid, whoever) Weiss was supposed to be looking at.
"Weiss? I can't see it."
Her only reply was the background music raging through the speakers.
"Weis—?"
"Did you know that he would be here?"
Blake frowned, squinting at the crowd. But there was nothing to see. Everyone was on the move, shifting positions, dancing. No one could be identified.
"Who are you talking about?"
But she was looking in the wrong place. Weiss held the sides of Blake's face, steering it in the right direction.
Weiss's gaze wasn't in the crowd, after all. Rather, beyond it. In a darker, remote corner, Blake's very own nightmare stood there, unnoticed by her as his red was bathed neon green in the light.
And he appeared to be looking for something.
"Fuck," Blake muttered, earning a questioning look from Weiss. She began to stammer incoherently, stumbling off her chair.
"Blake, what are you—"
Blake grabbed Weiss's wrists, eyes wide with panic.
"We need to get out of here." she hissed, turning slightly so her back was turned towards him.
Weiss's eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Blake, it'll be fine." she whispered, breaking a hand free from her grip. She tucked a strand of hair behind Blake's ear, lightly stroking the dark hair pulled up in her bun. "I'm here. We don't have to pursue him."
"He's already looking for me." Blake mumbled.
"And he'll find us." Weiss reassured, holding Blake's hands in her own. "He'll find us together, being the most amazing couple to ever exist and he'll have to back off since we're in public. Has he ever made a scene in public before?"
Blake shook her head like a sad child.
"Good." Weiss smiled. "He definitely won't now."
She let go of one hand, but held on tight to the other, leading Blake through the dance floor.
"Wh-Where— What're you doing?"
Weiss smiled at her. "Let's just go dance."
Blake was still wary of Adam. She couldn't see him anymore now that she was in the crowd. Heck, she didn't even know where she was.
He could've come into the crowd. What if he was going to find her? What if he was behind her right now?
Blake looked behind her, before sighing in relief.
Okay, nevermind.
She needed to relax. She was with Weiss. Ruby and Yang weren't far, of course. Since Weiss made them promise to stay near (Blake could almost gush about the fact that Weiss felt the need to clarify, 'It's for Blake').
What if he always knew you were there?
Blake wanted to stop panicking. Maybe it was the alcohol making her emotions rage. She wasn't used to more than a glass, usually.
He's waiting for you to let down your guard.
Blake stumbled, almost crash-landing on Weiss.
"Blake, are you alright?" Weiss asked. She held Blake by the shoulders, sliding a hand to her cheek. Blake held that hand gently, nuzzling into her touch.
"Still bothered?"
Blake nodded, looking away.
Weiss sighed, raising her other hand to Blake's face.
"I'm here. It'll be alright." she smiled. "I'll always be here."
Blake raised her eyebrows at the way Weiss phrased it. It was probably nothing. They were close again. Far more affectionate, but with their line of work, that was to be expected. It was probably nothing.
But Blake felt something. An electricity. Not a giddy excitement like she had with Adam and her other past crushes.
It was more of a connection. An intimacy. Just like that night at the restaurant. Where the heavens danced in Weiss's eyes. And everything was nothing except the two of them. A whole lightning bolt striking.
All Blake could hear was her own heartbeat, thumping violently in her ears.
Weiss's lips read her name.
And suddenly Blake's lips were on hers.
And nothing else mattered.
She could taste the bittersweet citrus from Weiss's cocktail and the pure ecstasy when Weiss started to kiss back. The petrichor and vanilla never hit Blake as strongly as it did then. And her eyes only half-lidded, yet was blinded.
It was the strongest feeling in the universe. So strong, it would linger on Blake's tongue for who knows how long. She was so blinded by it, she couldn't gain her bearings when she realized she was being pulled away.
———
don't kill me 👉👉
please.
— ari
———
part one | part two | part three | part four
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Text
BTS DRABBLE-Yoongi
No one:  
Absolutely no one: 
Me: HERE. HAVE AN ANGSTY LIL MEOW MEOW. 
Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, Bangtan, Bangtan Boys, Beyond the Scene, My work, Yoongi x you, Yoongi x reader, angst, fluff ending
Genre: Angst, fluff ending
Title: The Party 
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You held onto Yoongi’s arm as you both entered the gathering, the large room of the estate buzzing with people, all dressed in fancy evening wear, the ceiling above sparkling with chandeliers and reflections from the candles scattered over the dozens of tables. 
Everywhere you looked, there were elegant women dressed in draping, beautiful gowns, appearing as if they floated across the spacious dance floor, accompanied by men made dark and mysterious and handsome by tailored tuxedos. 
You glanced over at your boyfriend as you wove through the crowds, heading toward your designated table. You knew he didn’t particularly enjoy social outings, especially when there were this many attendees, and you noted how his face was pulled into tight lines, his lips drawn in a thin line, as he led you in and out of the laughing and chattering and drinking groups of people. 
Reaching the table, he pulled out your seat for you, and you grasped the sleeve of his tux between your fingers, stopping him from straightening completely, as you said in his ear, your lips brushing slightly across his skin, “Yoongs. Are you okay?” 
He grimaced slightly, and that told you everything you needed to know. He was here simply because he had to be. But that didn’t mean he was enjoying himself. And it didn’t mean that he wanted to stay any longer than was polite or deemed necessary. 
“I’m just gonna grab us a couple of drinks.” He said, his voice low, and he flicked his long fingers at you as he straightened, asking over the hum of conversation, “Your usual, baby?” 
You nodded, watching him push back through the crowds toward the bar that was set up at the back of the large, lively, glimmering room. 
Smoothing down the satin, blue material of your evening gown, your ears beginning to hurt from the heavy diamond earrings that dangled from your lobes, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, noticing suddenly how your heels were pinching your toes. 
“(L/N)(F/N)? Is that really you?” 
You were pulled from your reverie of misery as you heard a familiar baritone voice speak your name, and you glanced up, as a very familiar and very handsome face, came into view as the tall man sat down beside you at the empty table, his features full of disbelief and excitement. 
You laughed slightly, holding out a hand to him, as he kissed the back of your knuckles very gently, looking just how you had remembered from college, although his choice of clothing was a bit more formal and expensive now. “It is. In the flesh, if you can believe it.” 
“Wow.” His teeth gleamed ivory in the lights as he smiled, his tan skin pulled tight across his cheekbones, his dark, wavy hair falling over his brow as he leaned toward you, pressing your hands between his own as he said, surprise still dotting his tone, “I cannot believe my luck. Running into you here? Who would have thought?” 
You nodded in agreement, a smile gracing your lips, as you said, slightly nostalgic, “It has been quite a long time.” 
Your conversation was interrupted by the return of Yoongi, who set your glass of white wine down on the table beside you and then stood beside your chair, his hand going on your shoulder, as he glanced over the man sitting beside you, in his spot. “Care to introduce me to your friend, (F/N)?” 
“Oh!” The man stood, extending his hand to Yoongi warmly, and you felt slightly embarrassed when your boyfriend made no move to return to the gesture, regarding the man coldly, not moving in the slightest, until he finally dropped his hand back to his side and said, clearing his throat, “The name’s Kim Lyn. I knew (F/N) back in our college days.” He grinned down at you, Yoongi still watching his every move, his face expressionless, and then Lyn said, reaching out to brush your arm with his fingers, “Yeah, if you can believe it, we actually used to be quite the thing back then. I still don’t know, to this day, how I scored such a hot girlfriend. I was quite the nerd back then.”
You laughed at his statement, waving him off as you said jokingly, “Oh, come on, Lyn. You know I was into nerds back then.” 
He laughed, a deep pleasant sound, and you exchanged a few more pleasantries, before he excused himself with a polite bow and one last glance in Yoongi’s direction, before disappearing into the crowd. 
You stayed at the party a little longer after that, and you noticed, a little tensely, that as time passed, Yoongi seemed to grow more and more antsy, and distant toward you, as the evening wore on. Figuring it was just his general discomfort and social anxiety rearing its head because of the gathering. you brushed it off, choosing not to read too much into it when you finally left, and he didn’t take your hand in his to lead you to the car like he normally did. 
The ride back was silent, your boyfriend staring pensively out his window, you sitting on the other side of the backseat, feeling as if there was suddenly a yawning void between the two of you and you had no idea why. Yoongi was pensive, and moody, and distant at parties, with others, always, but he had never been this way with you, and this other side of him usually vanished along with the party lights in the distance of the rear view mirror. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you had dated that other guy?” 
Finally, he spoke, his voice bordering on a growl, and you looked up in surprise from your phone at his odd question, saying in surprise, “Sorry, baby. I honestly didn’t know he was going to be there. And I didn’t think it would be a big deal either way.” 
“Well, you were wrong.” His voice was low, simmering, and there was anger bitten back behind his words. “It is a big deal, (F/N).” 
You turned to him in surprise, not used to hearing anger in his tone when he addressed you. “Yoongi, I’m sorry, but, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.” 
“I’m not upset.” He slammed his fist down against the door of the car, and you jumped slightly at the action, as he took in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes dark as he finally turned to look at you, his teeth clenched, his cheek muscles twitching in controlled fury, as he said, louder this time, “I’m not upset. I’m pissed off, (F/N). You know I don’t like going to these kind of things. But to come back, and find my girlfriend, and some guy,” He gritted his teeth, his fingers curling in his lap, wrinkling the dark material of his tux, “A guy, who apparently, she used to date, flirting, that’s just shit. And you know it.” 
“Excuse me?” You gasped out, feeling your own anger flush your cheeks as you watched him, sitting silently, stewing, across from you in the back seat of the car. “We were not flirting! And what did you expect, Yoongi? That when I started dating you, I had never dated another man before? Because just like you, I have a past, and you may not like it, but it’s part of who I am.” 
“Don’t give me that shit, (F/N).” He spat out, throwing a finger into your face, his voice impassioned hotly with rage, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. “I knew you had a past. I accepted that. But I didn’t know you’d be dragging that past into our present, our future! I didn’t know you and your old flames were still such good chums that you’d be flirting with the sons of bitches around every corner. That’s sure as hell not what I signed up for.” 
“And what did you sign up for?” You asked back, a bite underneath your words. You didn’t know if in this moment, you wanted to cry at how unfair he was being, or punch him directly in his stupid face. “Please tell me, Yoongi. So I can read the rule book that apparently comes with our relationship and prepare myself, so that next time, I don’t engage in an INNOCENT conversation and completely send our entire evening to shit.” 
He was silent, sitting back in his seat, and You realized, that you were sitting outside the entrance to your apartment. Taking in a deep shuddering breath, You turned toward the door, and reaching for your clutch, you threw out coolly over your shoulder, “You know what? I think it’s best if you sleep at one of the boys’ tonight.” 
“Yeah, I think that’d be best.” He muttered, and You didn’t wait for anything else, as you pushed open the car door and left, slamming it behind you and not looking back. 
********
The next morning, you lay in bed, your eyes puffy and your face swollen and red from all the crying you had done the night before. 
You had barely gotten the apartment unlocked and entered, hardly able to see through the tears that clouded your vision, as you stripped out of your fancy dress, and crawled into the large bed, careful not to look at Yoongi’s empty side of the mattress. 
You tossed and turned all night, crying and fitfully resting for short intervals, and now here you were, exhausted and emotionally drained, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, wondering where to go from here. 
The sound of the front door opening and then closing softly pulled you from your moping, and you swore slightly under your breath as you heard footsteps heading down the hall toward the bedroom. 
Damn it. You should have changed the locks. 
Rolling over, you pulled the blankets up around your shoulders, burrowing beneath them, not facing the door, as you heard the familiar tread enter the room, stopping just inside the door, and then there was silence. 
You let him suffer through the quiet for a few moments, and then you called out heatedly, still not looking toward him, “If you’re here to yell at me again, then I’d rather you don’t. I’m really not in the mood to deal with your shit this morning.” 
When there was no response, and no sound of footsteps drawing any closer, you huffed in irritation and threw the blanket off of yourself, sitting up, your movements rapid and angry, as you finally looked at him, exclaiming in angry annoyance as you threw your hands in the air, “Oh, so now we’re doing the silent treatment? Real mature. You know, Yoongi, I never knew you were this childish.” 
He stood there, just inside the door to the room, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his favorite hoodie, the hood pulled tightly around his face, his dark hair falling messily into his eyes, his gaze never wavering from mine. His skin was pale, paler than normal, and he had dark circles under his eyes, and you felt a tiny pang of satisfaction noting that he probably hadn’t gotten much more sleep than you had the night before. 
You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him, as you continued hotly, too many emotions bubbling uncomfortably in your chest to stop your tirade just yet. He had said terrible things to you. And you were hurt. And he needed to know that. “You were a complete and utter asshole last night, Min Yoongi. And I know, when we got together, that I said I accepted you, all of you, and that included the shitty bits, but this? This was too far. I didn’t deserve anything you said to me, and frankly, I’m sick of feeling like the bad guy here. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.” 
You stopped, your chest heaving with angry breaths, feeling slightly better after saying all of that out loud, and you readied yourself for a fight, for him to rebut everything you had just thrown at them. 
But. 
“You’re right.” 
Your mouth dropped open, and you hurried to close it, as you watched him shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably under your gaze, his dark eyes downcast, as you stuttered out, “Excuse me?” 
“I said.” He brought his gaze back up to you, and you noticed, again, just how tired he looked, as he ran a trembling hand through his dark locks and said softly, “You’re right. I was a complete asshole. And you didn’t deserve any of it.” 
You bit your lip, waiting for him to continue, and he nervously tucked and untucked his long fingers into the pocket of his hoodie a few times, before he mumbled out apologetically, “I really am sorry. I blew it. I just...” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking up at the ceiling, and letting out a long sigh, before he continued, his words slightly hesitant. “I still, every day, I can’t believe I deserve someone as great as you. And I let my insecurity get the best of me last night. And that wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry.” 
You clenched the material of your own hoodie between your fingers, the silence growing between you, as he waited, uncomfortably, tensely, to see what you would say in response to his apology, his admission of guilt, his confession of his insecurities. 
You knew what he said was true. He had always been slightly insecure in your relationship-more times than you could count, you had had to reassure him that you chose him, that you continued to choose him, and that you would always choose him, forever. He instinctively thought his flaws, his darkness, his days when he could hardly pull himself out of bed, when the depression, the anxiety, the voices telling him he wasn’t enough, were too loud, he automatically thought those things disqualified him from happiness. That you were with him simply out of pity, out of fear of leaving. 
But none of it was true. And you knew that. And you knew, without a doubt, that the moments that it mattered most, that you needed to show him that you actively chose him, were the moments when the shitty bits came to the surface. Because, usually, behind the asshole that Min Yoongi could be, was a little boy, hiding, afraid, being pulled under by darkness, that needed reassurance that he was worth loving more than ever. 
Standing from the bed, you crossed the room, and came to stand in front of him. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as you buried your hands in the pocket of his hoodie, your fingers finding his own long, slender ones, his skin cool against the warmth of your own. You looked up at him, into those dark, swirling eyes, eyes that hid pain, demons, struggles, but also hid the most amazing man you had ever met-a man who loved more deeply, more fiercely, more strongly, than anyone you knew. 
A man who loved you. 
You reached up, pushing dark hair back from his forehead, noting, once again, the bruising of exhaustion beneath his lower lashes, his pale skin sallow with a night of no sleep, his lips pressed into a thin line of stress and guilt and anguish. 
“Min Yoongi.” His name fell softly from your lips, as you offered him the hint of a smile, your heart aching to be close to him, to hold him, after spending the night apart. You traced your fingers down his sharp cheekbone, and he pressed into your touch, his eyes closing wearily at the feel of your palm against his skin. You smiled, fully this time, and when he opened his eyes, his gaze connecting with your own, feeling so much like home, like familiar warmth as he looked at you, the words that you breathed had never felt more right, more sincere, more you. 
“Welcome home.” 
83 notes · View notes
itskateak · 4 years
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Oceans and Stars - Chapter 9
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Story Summary: A story of how Bucky Barnes falls in love with oceans, stars, and the woman who gave him the reasons to.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Velika Dante King (Fem!OC)
Chapter Summary: A woman in uniform arrives at the compound and everyone knows what that means.
Words:  3.8K (dang)
Warnings: Mentions of war, mild language, loss, grief
A/N: I'm not sorry about this. :) but I also kinda am. 
Masterlist
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𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓰𝓸
The woman straightened her pencil skirt with shaky hands. She had done four notifications in the last week and they hadn't got any easier. These people had been her friends and seeing the faces of their families and friends deepened the hole in her chest.
The large compound loomed over her, casting a shadow that would've been intimidating if she hadn't been to Hell and back many times. The glass doors were easy to open and the chill of the air conditioning made her shiver. She approached the receptionist's desk, a file held in the crook of her elbow. The official report did very little to explain what had happened and it wouldn't provide any comfort to those who lost her.
"Hi, how can I help you?" The receptionist asked with a smile.
"Hello. I need to speak with those on the Avengers team urgently," She said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"In regards to what?"
"Velika Dante King." The receptionist's smile fell and nodded.
"I'll page you through. Friday, please alert the Avengers to gather in conference room A."
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The moment Bucky walked into the room, he knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. His chest tightened and his stomach sank as the woman in uniform gave them all a sympathetic smile. He knew immediately what was happening and his heart pounded. 
"I am Lady Belial of the Office of Afterlife Services, but I am here as a representative of the Kingdom of Morningstar and Queen Lunara." Belial set a file down onto the conference room table, the Kingdom's seal printed on the front. A name was scrawled across the front: Lt. Velika
"What happened?" Bucky cut to the chase, surprised that he was able to speak at all. His throat was tight and his right hand was beginning to shake. This couldn't be happening. It was just a bad dream and he was going to wake up and everything was going to be fine.
"Bucky, who says anything bad happened?" Steve asked though he didn't sound convinced himself. He was just trying to calm him down.
"Because I know what this is, Steve. We both know what this is. We were in the military. It's a notification. So, what happened to her?" Bucky turned to the woman, an edge to his voice. He clenched his right hand to try and steady it. His nails dug into his palm to ground himself - a coping mechanism that Naomi had berated him for time and time again.
"The official report states that most of her unit went MIA on the southern front two days ago, but it's bullshit." Belial's shoulders dropped. "Two weeks ago, her unit went missing. We found most of them, but Velika is still MIA. If not found in the next week, we have to change her active status to inactive, announcing her killed in action. I'm so sorry."
Bucky felt his breath freeze in his chest and his throat closed up. He knew from the moment he'd stepped into the room that this would be the news delivered but there was something else about having it confirmed. He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up. 
Wanda was wrapped in Vision's arms, crying softly. She'd already lost so much and it never got easier. Especially during the younger years of her life. Even as a young adult, now, she still continued to lose.
Sam had his arms crossed, eyes on the floor. A veteran like himself knew the chances that she'd turn up were low. He sniffed and scratched under his eye, acting like he wasn't about to cry.
"How close is the war to ending?" Tony asked, voice thick. He'd sunk into a chair after the news, no doubt thinking about how he was going to break the news to his spider-kid.
"In Earthen time, a few more months from my estimations. It's been thirteen years for us and we're all wanting it to end." Belial said.
"Isn't there something more you can do?" Natasha's brow was furrowed, tone sharp like she didn't believe the woman. 
"I'm so sorry. We're doing all we can but even then I don't know if it'll be enough. It's a large realm to cover and some of the fighting has even pushed into Purgatory." Belial sighed. "We do know they're moving her location from what her unit mates have said. If she's even in Hell or Purgatory anymore, that is."
Bucky dug his nails into his skin hard enough to nearly draw blood. He was sure he was the only one who really understood what that might mean. Velika's history with Heaven was very rocky and if she wasn't in Hell or Purgatory...he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to even consider it.
"What do you mean?" Steve asked.
"It's possible they took her back to Heaven. And if that's true, there's no getting her back because they'll either kill her or put her under their control again." Belial looked grim.
"How could you let that happen? You knew it was a risk and still called her to fight. She knew it was a risk and she still went! She trusted that you wouldn't let it happen!" Bucky suddenly burst out, voice louder than he intended. 
"Buck, I know you're upset, but don't yell at her. She wasn't responsible for what happened." Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder and he shook it off.
"I wish there was more I could do. I really do. I know what they did to her. I know what happened. But if it was her decision to go and fight, then you need to respect it. It was her choice." Belial said. "You understand, Sergeant Barnes."
"She was drafted. I enlisted. There's a difference. I chose to fight. She didn't." He said through gritted teeth.
"She knew when she asked for protection from the Kingdom that if they were to ever go to war, she would have to fight. She chose that." Belial matched his tone. "Just like every other fallen angel who asked for the protection of the Kingdom. It was the price she knew to pay for her freedom."
"What kind of bullshit system is that? She wasn't free. She has a bag under her bed with supplies in case she had to run. Run to protect us because she was terrified someone would come for her and hurt the people she cared about." Bucky was shaking, anger surging through his veins. "That isn't freedom."
"The Kingdom would protect her."
"Just like they protected her from being taken on the battlefield?" Bucky shook his head in disbelief, tears pushing at his eyes. "She laid her life on the line to protect a Kingdom that didn't give a shit about her." He turned and left the room, ignoring Steve calling his name. He needed to be alone. 
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𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓸.
It had been three weeks since they'd been told of Velika's disappearance and two weeks since she was officially announced as killed in action. Two weeks since Bucky had left his room. 
Steve and Sam came to check on him occasionally, bringing him food and taking the barely touched plates with them. They never lingered long, sitting on the edge of the bed quietly and giving updates on the world around him. He had no interest in the world around him. Not now that she was gone.
"Buck, you have to get up sometime. I know it's hard, but you'll feel better if you just walk down the hall," Steve said during one of his visits, a hand resting on Bucky's calf. He hadn't tried to get him up and moving until the last few days, hopeful that they could just get him out of bed for a change. 
Bucky didn't say anything. He never did. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid that if he opened his mouth, a sob would come out. He was so tired of crying and his head hurt constantly from dehydration. He couldn't bring himself to drink water to solve the issue. He could barely bring himself to eat most days.
"I know you miss her. We all do. But would she want you to waste away in your room like this?" Steve asked, patting his leg gently. He knew Steve meant well and came from a place of concern but he didn't want to hear it.
"Get out." Bucky croaked, eyes screwing shut. 
Steve sighed and quietly shut the door on his way out, leaving Bucky to his misery.
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Bucky stared blankly at the ceiling, spread out across his bed. He'd gotten up and showered at least, but that was all he could bring himself to do. It's progress. He thought. His therapist would've applauded him and hyped him up about it. 
That progress was quickly dashed when he saw her dog tags on the bathroom counter and it had caused him to spiral into a breakdown. He'd collapsed onto the floor in tears, clutching the only thing left of her in his hand.
When he'd gotten to his bed and found himself staring endlessly through the ceiling, he had no idea. But that's where he was when someone knocked.
The door opened and he blinked to clear his vision. That only pushed more tears down his face and he let them fall. He didn't want to put the energy into wiping them away. A weight settled on the edge of his bed.
"Hey, man. Just came in to say that Steve and Nat are heading to take down a base in an hour. There's a spot on the helicarrier if you want it." Sam said quietly. He'd always had a soft voice when he came in, which was a nice change from Steve's loudness. His best friend had always been louder than he'd intended, even when he tried to be quieter. 
Sam had been good company on the days that he wanted it. He had stopped teasing him as much, but he still poked fun at Bucky on occasion. Never for things like wearing the same shirt four days in a row or having his hair look like a mess when it hadn't been brushed in days or making comments when he did dare to venture out into the common areas. He still made fun of him for walking slowly in the halls or standing in a doorway for more than half a second or yelling at him when he sat in 'his spot.' He wouldn't admit it, but Bucky was really grateful for that.
"They'd like to have you join them, but if you don't feel up to it, that's okay. The Guardians have landed so Gamora has offered to fill in." Sam further explained in a casual tone that really eased his guilt of not wanting to go.
Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but a sob slipped out. He drew in a shuddering breath, taken off guard at his own vulnerability.
"Are you okay? I mean, I know you're not okay. But what's up?" Sam turned with a soft expression, gently resting his hand on Bucky's knee in concern. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"I miss her," Bucky whispered, throat burning from holding back another sob. "I miss her so much."
"I know, buddy."
"We were s'posed to go out," Bucky turned his head to look at Sam, voice wavering. "We were s'posed to go dancin' or sight seein' and she was s'posed to tell me about her favorite constellation."
"Aw, man. I'm sorry." Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. "Have you talked to Naomi yet?"
Bucky shook his head. He'd canceled his appointments the last three weeks, but he figured it would maybe do him some good to see his therapist. 
He just didn't want to leave the compound and face the world without Velika.
"I'll call her office and see if she can do a house visit, okay? Do you want me to stay?" Sam asked. He always left the choice up to Bucky. Never wanted to intrude if he wanted to be alone.
 Bucky nodded shakily, shifting to look back at the ceiling. 
"Aight, man. I'll stay until you tell me to leave."
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Bucky had ventured out into the common room on a brave day, spending his time idly watching whatever was on the tv. It was some reality show about a famous family and he could not care less, but it was just background noise that distracted him from his thoughts. He had his computer sitting on his lap and he was reading through some of the social media posts he'd missed. He scrolled past the fan works, not really paying them mind. People would do what they would. As long as he didn't know, he didn't care.
Peter came in after school had gotten out. He usually came after school on Fridays and stayed the weekend for training. He was humming along to whatever music he was listening to and set his backpack down on the table.
Bucky looked up, watching him bop along to his music, and head for the fridge to grab a drink. He shook his head fondly and scrolled down.
"Oh, hi. Uh...Mr. Barnes, I-I didn't see you there." Peter said awkwardly, pulling his earbuds out.
"Don't think you saw much of anything while you were headbanging there,  kiddo," Bucky replied with a friendly smile. "How'd that test go? History, right?"
"Uh, yeah! U.S. History, specifically. We've been talking about World War Two, so I pretty much nailed it." Peter shrugged. 
"Helps to have us old farts around for your questions, huh?" Bucky had always found that conversation with the young Avenger came easy and even now in his very non-social state, it still flowed easily between them.
"Well, I mean yeah, but you're also fun to be around so it's really a win-win situation." Peter smiled and flopped down next to him on the couch. "Are you actually watching this?"
"Huh? Oh, no. It's just background noise. It was too quiet while I was just sitting here." Bucky looked up at the tv, brow furrowed. What an awful show. "If you want to change it, you can."
Peter grabbed the remote and navigated to one of the streaming systems. There was a bit of silence for a moment with intermittent plinks as he switched between titles. He gasped softly, which drew Bucky's attention.
"They have the Princess Bride! I haven't seen that movie in so long!" Peter grinned excitedly.
"What's that?" Bucky asked, looking up at the picture onscreen. He read the synopsis and became intrigued.
"Only like, the best movie ever? Have you not seen it?" Peter turned to him with a surprised expression.
"Uh, no. I think it was on the list that Velika...that Velika and I were working through." Bucky dropped his gaze to his laptop, the familiar ache in his chest returning. He missed her so much. The burning in his throat returned and he tried to hide how his breath hitched.
"Mr. Barnes, I know you miss her a lot...I do, too." Peter's tone changed immediately, becoming much softer and full of emotion. 
"It sucks," Bucky muttered, not trusting his voice too much.
"It really does." Peter fell quiet after that, knowing that words weren't going to help. 
Bucky was surprised when Peter pulled him into a hug. He turned and wrapped his arms around the boy. 
"You looked like you needed a hug."
"I did, kiddo. Thanks." Bucky couldn't remember the last time someone had just hugged him. Steve would give him a one-armed hug around his shoulders, and Sam would pat his back. Natasha didn't really like physical affection so he never could count on it from her. 
Peter didn't let him go until Bucky made the move to pull back. The hug had lasted long enough for the tv to go into sleep mode.
"So, you wanna watch it with me?" Peter asked, picking the remote back up.
"Is it worth it? Because Tony claimed The Fifth Element was the best movie ever made and that was a nightmare and a half." Bucky closed his laptop and leaned to put it on the coffee table.
"Mr. Stark is a tech genius. Not a movie genius." Peter grimaced. "The Princess Bride is fantastic. The book was even awesome." 
"Alright. You've sold me. Let me get a drink."
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"Hey, Bucky. I was worried when you canceled your appointments but Steve told me what happened when I came in. I'm so sorry." Naomi perched on the side of his bed, glasses pushed to the top of her head. "I know how much she meant to you."
"You really don't," Bucky muttered, drawing his knees to his chest. He was sitting up against the headboard. He'd been having better days recently, but the last week had been very rough on him.
"Do you want to tell me about that, then?"
"I am...was in love with her." Bucky looked up at her with a vulnerability even she didn't expect. He'd never told anyone other than Steve. It was strange to say, but it felt right. Except it made his chest tighten in grief. "And I never got to tell her."
"Bucky...I'm really sorry." Naomi shifted and sat cross-legged at the end of his bed. "That's awful. I don't actually know what to say."
"We were supposed to go out when she got back. I asked her out on a date and she said yes. I was gonna take her out dancing." Bucky continued, eyes falling to the bedspread sadly. "Except she can't dance to save her life. Anything more than slow dancing and she'll step on your toes. I wouldn't mind, though. As long as she was having fun."
Naomi smiled, nodding along as she listened. She wouldn't correct him on his tense usage. Not yet, anyway. "Would you be interested in taking me down the trail that leads to the river? A walk through the woods always helped me and I think you could use some fresh air."
Bucky thought about it carefully. He hadn't been out there since he'd lost her. Granted, he hadn't been out of the compound much since they were given the news. He'd just barely started coming out of his room more than once a day. But a walk through the woods sounded nice. So, he nodded and unfolded himself from his curled up position.
An hour later, a photo was posted on his Instagram of the fallen tree across the river. He hadn't been around on social media at all since the official notice of Velika's passing had been put out. His messages and notifications were filled with condolences and support. He hadn't the heart to read them yet. He put a lot of thought into the caption, thinking maybe to go simple and talk about his favorite memory with her.
Bucky decided to be honest. 
It isn't the same without my girl who once made me face my fears head-on. Now I have to face them on my own. I wasn't ready then and I'm not ready now, but I know she'd want me to keep going and take the leap. Fearing the fall will only make you miss the landing. 
I didn't know what she had meant by that in the moment, but I understand now. I miss her every single day and I know several others do as well. My girl was special to me and to many people and losing her has been one of the most difficult things I've ever gone through. 
This place is not the same without her, but the view is still worth the risk of falling. A part of me still believes that she's out there, somewhere, fighting to get back. I don't know if it's worth it to let myself hang onto that small hope. I keep thinking that this is all a bad dream and I'm going to wake up. It's been nearly three years since she left to fight, and nothing hurts more than the promises she didn't get to keep. That hopeful part of me is going to keep waiting. 
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Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The ocean in the distance washed against the shore steadily, like the beating of a heart. He could barely see the inky water in the soft moonlight. The salty breeze blew past him, rustling the grass sprouting from the dunes below the deck. 
Steve had decided that the team needed a retreat to take some time to recover. Being in the compound didn't give everyone time to heal from losing Velika, considering that everything around them kept moving on and there were daily reminders of the hole in their lives. A trip to a secluded beach had been his decision, which happened to be perfect as Tony brought up the fact he owned a private beach house in Greece.
The location only made Bucky miss her so much more. The stars twinkled back at him, but they had felt cold ever since he lost her. The constellations were not as friendly and intriguing as they had once been. He sighed again, pushing down tears. He was done crying.
 It had been six months and they had received word that the war was over. Hell had won and her death wasn't in vain. Her brother had visited and could offer very little consolation before he had to leave to return to the business he ran. 
The pain hadn't gotten any better, but Bucky had learned how to handle the daily heartache he felt. He wondered if it would ever get easier or if he would forever feel like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Missions had become a great distraction to help him focus on other things, but at night, he was left alone with his thoughts. Like tonight.
Footsteps interrupted the sounds of the night, which warned him of someone approaching. He figured it was Steve, Sam, or even Nat coming to try and bring him inside. He couldn't sleep, so he came out to try and quiet his mind and find some peace. He didn't turn around to find out who it was, knowing they'd either move into his peripheral vision or speak.
"Hey, Bucky." He knew that voice. His eyes widened and he picked his head up. He didn't want to turn around, afraid that if he looked, it would be a hallucination. His heart was hammering against his chest, blocking out the sounds of the waves as it beat in his ears. 
Against his better judgment, Bucky turned around and his breath caught in his throat. 
"It's been a long time." 
𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰.
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feed-the-birdss · 5 years
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James Asked
This is my submission for @tropewizardtournament! I hope you all enjoy!!
Read it on Fanfic
The humming sounds of the strange instruments that filled the circular room played alongside James Potter's tapping foot. The magnificent red and gold Phoenix next to the desk, whose name James could not remember, looked on at the messy haired boy pensively.
Before he started tapping his foot, James tried to engage in a staring contest with the bird because it wouldn't stop staring at him, but quickly realized the bird was going to win and resigned to his foot-tapping to distract him as he waited.
A few years ago, maybe even a year ago, James probably would've snooped around the office to get a good look at some of the nick knacks his wacky headmaster had lying around. However, he had been behaving a lot better over the past year. His mother had said it's because he's finally begun to mature. He guess that makes sense, but he doesn't really feel any different. He still makes decisions impulsively, like any other real Gryffindor. The difference is, his impulses are just directed towards other things these days. Like death eaters, and You Know Who.
Although, he could think of one impulse that hasn't changed even a bit, and it's the only one he's had to learn how to not act on. Red hair, green eyes, a freckled nose. James' foot's tapping slowly started to die off. Lily…he thought. Bloody Hell, he groaned. He really just didn't want to think about her right now. So he resumed his foot-tapping at top speed and started using his school shirt to clean his very dirty wand.
"Excuse me? But would you kindly stop incessantly tapping that foot of yours young man? Some of us are trying to sleep here."
As his foot stopped mid-tap, James looked up from the smudges on his wand to see the portrait of Armando Dippet, giving him the dirtiest look he'd ever seen on a portrait including the time he and Sirius woke up the fat lady as she was sleeping off what was an obvious hangover.
"Oh, uh—right, sorry mate," apologized James. He wanted to ask if he knew when Dumbledore was going to show up for their meeting, but thought better of it given the dirty look from before.
Without the tapping of his foot to distract him from his thoughts though, James was left with, well, his thoughts and the Phoenix, who didn't really seem to do anything other than stare at him.
His head looked towards the door of the office, "Where is he?" James asked out loud.
"Right here, Mr. Potter."
James stood up as the door opened and in walked the old man, half-moon spectacles, mauve robes and all. James was not exactly sure why he stood up, but a man like that somehow just automatically gets respect from everyone present when he walks into a room.
"Sorry Professor."
"Not a problem. I know I kept you waiting for some time. My most sincerest apologies, but Professor Slughorn and I got caught up in a discussion regarding our Head Girl's potion skills," explained Dumbledore as he walked to his desk to sit down.
James really did not want to talk or think about Lily tonight beyond Heads duties, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't help it, a conversation is always more interesting to him whenever she's mentioned. James sat down across from him and asked, "I don't mean to pry Professor, but may I ask why you and Professor Slughorn were talking about her potion skills?"
"You may." He said as he softly stroked the Phoenix, whose name James still couldn't remember, "Professor Slughorn is aware that I am very interested in the talents and skills of all the seventh years. Therefore, he let me know of Ms. Evans' exceptional potion-making abilities, and her quick wit. Which I do say, I have had the pleasure of witnessing myself, and it is quite something," he finished with a chuckle.
James couldn't help but smile back, "Yes. She's quite the girl," he agreed. However, saying that only reminded James of the fact this girl, he's pretty sure he's in love with, is not with him. The smile slowly left his face.
"To echo your words from before James, I must say that I don't mean to pry, but may I ask what is wrong? I've noticed you've seem off this past week. In fact, I think I overheard your good friend Mr. Black the other day mention that you've lost your 'strut' as he put it."
James was about to say that the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw has been making him nervous, but he felt like Dumbledore's blue eyes were piercing him through those spectacles. He just knew that if he made something up, Dumbledore would know, and he didn't want a man he greatly respected to think him a liar. Plus, Sirius, Remus and Peter have re-instated the 'No Complaining About Evans Past 5PM Rule' again, and he was going a little stir-crazy today. So it poured out of him in one big huff, "I've fancied Lily since fourth year, and we're in October of our last year, and I'm terrified that I'll never get a bloody chance with her," James paused, "sir," he finished clearing his throat.
Dumbledore's eyes continued to exam him, and what made matters worse was that his Phoenix was still staring at him too. So there they were, James, Dumbledore, and this Phoenix, in this circular office, in loud silence, staring at each other. Sweat began to form on James' brow.
To James' utter relief, Dumbledore finally opened his mouth, "Hmmm, I see."
"Uhhh, yes," spluttered James, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Forgive me James, but I was under the impression that you and Miss Evans were already together. So this is a bit of a shock for me."
James blinked. If expressionless calm-seated staring was how this man showed his shock, it is no wonder how he defeated Grindelwald. "What gave you that impression, sir?"
"Don't get me wrong. I am very aware as to how Miss Evans felt about you a year or two ago. My, I think the whole school was aware," he chuckled as James scowled. "Yet, there was barely a moment I can remember from last year or this past month, where you two weren't together laughing and smiling at each other. Naturally, I thought the friendship had turned into something more by now."
"I wish," sighed James. "We have become good friends, but I just—" he paused, "well sir, I just am a little nervous to ask her out after all the times she rejected me, and I feel like—you know, if she liked me back, Lily is the type of woman who would ask me out, but she hasn't yet…so yeah…"
Dumbledore, and to James' annoyance, the Phoenix continued to stare silently at him as James grimaced at the floor.
Once again, after a few moments and James' utter relief, Dumbledore finally broke the silence, "Mr. Potter, I am going to offer you some advice, and mind you, it's advice that I do not give lightly."
James' interest peaked. He was not venting for the purposes of getting advice here. He really just needed to vent to someone who wasn't Sirius, Remus, Peter (or his mother). However, when the greatest wizard in the world is offering you dating advice, you shut the hell up and listen. Although, he's pretty sure Sirius would laugh his ass off at the idea of Albus Dumbledore, sitting in a mauve robe, giving James advice on his love life as Dumbledore's pet Phoenix stared into his soul as he listened.
"I'll take anything I can get at this point sir." James encouraged.
Dumbledore's head titled forward slightly so his blue eyes were no piercing James directly, and he slowly brought the tips of his fingers together in front of his chest as he said, "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who asked for it."
James blinked. That's it. He thought to himself. I would be married to her by now if that was bloody true.
"Oh…okay," replied James blankly.
"Right, now James, I am very sorry to cut the love chat short, but we must be getting on with our meeting," asserted Dumbledore.
"Of course sir."
About a half hour later, James was walking back to the common room from Dumbledore's Office. As he and Dumbledore went over the protocols for prefects during the next Hogsmeade trip, he couldn't get Dumbledore's advice out his head. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. Absolutely useless that was. What does that even mean? James couldn't count the number of times he's asked—begged—for something, anything or anyone to help him get a chance with this girl. Like, does he need to explicitly ask the school out loud? Is that what it is? Madness.
Madness…that kind of makes sense coming from Dumbledore. However, Dumbledore's madness is part of what makes him the greatest.
That's when James stopped mid-step and thought to himself, well, what the bloody hell have I got lose at this point anyway?
So he looked behind him to make sure the coast was clear, and then quickly hauled himself into the broom closet and slammed the door. The force of the slam caused a broom to clatter to the ground and dust to sprinkle down from the ceiling.
After quickly brushing himself off, he deeply breathed in the dust-filled air and tentatively said, "Hogwarts?"
He then paused as if expecting, and half hoping, the school to magically speak back to him. But after a second or two of silence he continued, "Right, so um, Dumbledore said you may be able to help me out with, uh, well my Lily issue, or my lil' problem, as Padfoot likes to call it. But I guess what Sirius says doesn't matter much to you right now.
'Anyway, yeah so, there's this girl, and well, I think I love her. But we're not together you see. We're friends—good friends—hell, I consider her one of my best friends these days, but I want to be more. Sometimes…Fuck, okay, I've never said this out loud, but, um, well I sometimes think she might, uh, like me back and stuff. Like, she's always making excuses to touch me, and she flirts back with me all the bloody time. And at the beginning of the year, when we were on the express on our way over here, the train rattled, and Lily sorta fell onto me, and I caught her. At that moment, I swear she was dying to kiss me as much as I was dying to kiss her…" James' eyes glazed over at the memory.
The dust in the air soon made James sneeze, which woke him up from his stupor, "Uh…right. So this girl. Lily. So I guess I should formally ask you for help? Okay—here we go, um…Hogwarts, I, James Fleamont Potter, am desperately asking, or begging if you accept begs, to give me the chance to date Lily Marie Evans…please and thank you…I guess?"
He waited a minute or two to see if anything happened. He's not sure what he was expecting, but he was kind of hoping for Lily to magically show up in the closet with him to ask him out…or snog him. He would be okay with either scenario really. Alas, nothing happened.
So he slowly opened the door of the closet, turned his head both ways to check that the coast was still clear and continued on down the corridor as if he was not just talking to himself in a broom closet.
He was just approaching the library, when he saw the unmistakable shade of red.
"James!" smiled Lily.
Holy shit. Thought James, as she smiled at him. He noticed her hands were covered in their customary ink stains he almost never sees her without, and her bag was slung over her shoulder.
"Hey Lils," smiled James. Trying his hardest to shield his nervous excitement. Was this it!? Was she going to ask him out? Was he all of sudden going to magically get the courage to ask her out? Were they going to snog?
"How was your meeting with Dumbledore?" she asked brightly.
This whole situation felt too mundane to James, and he wasn't getting hit with some splurge of courage or anything, so he felt like this wasn't the help he was promised. He's pretty sure Hogwarts would know how to be more obvious.
"Good. We went over the Hogsmeade protocol. Sorry I couldn't meet with him when you did, but you know…quidditch and all," he explained as his hand instinctively went to ruffled his hair.
"Don't worry about it." She said as they both started to head towards the common room, "Anyway, I've been dying to ask you all day, but what on earth has been growing on Sirius' upper lip. It's absolutely ghastly."
"I know! Moony tried to talk him out of it when he said he was going for it, but Padfoot refused. He's claiming the stache will match the motorbike he fixed up over the summer."
"Oh God. That somehow makes the whole thing worse. The scoundrel nearly gave my dad a freaking heart attack when he saw him come to pick me up on that thing," she giggled at the memory, "I had to tell him that as a witch, I was more than capable of saving myself if we crashed."
James laughed along with her, "that's probably true."
"Damn straight Potter." As they started to climb a staircase, she asked, "So other than rounds tomorrow night, what else do you have to finish before the quidditch game on Saturday?"
"Surprisingly not much, only that essay for McGonagall, and practicing nonverbals for DADA."
"That's good. The team looking alright?"
Luckily for Lily, just as James was about to go on a bit of a quidditch rant about strategies for the next game, the staircase they were climbing began to move. This was nothing out of the ordinary for any Hogwarts student, but both of them couldn't help but groan in response. They would now have to take a much longer route to get back to the common room.
As the staircase continued to shift, Lily furrowed her brows, "Is it just me, or is the staircase slowing down?"
"What?" asked James in confusion.
That's when the staircase stopped altogether. James and Lily widened their eyes. In front of them and behind them, the stairs were met with air. Neither side was connected to another staircase.
"Uh…James. Has this ever happened to you before?"
"Can't say it has Evans."
"Uh…right…what the fuck do we do?" she perplexed.
"Um…fuck, do you think we could jump down to that one down there?" He pointed to a staircase that looked about 15-20 metres below them. "How the fuck did we end up here? It felt like we were still anchored to that bottom staircase?"
"I'm so confused. We're literally, like, suspended in mid-air, and the closest staircases are about 20 metres above and below us….," she paused, "Do you think we could levitate each other down to the ground? Or we could jump and set a cushioning charm? Or we could send a patronus to someone and get help?"
"Ummm, not that I don't trust us to levitate or cushion each other, but like, probably safer to do a patronus and get someone to sort us out."
"Agreed. You know how to do one right? I saw you do it over the summer."
"Yeah, my dad taught Sirius and I. Do you?"
"I've been practicing for a few weeks with Marlene, and we've managed to only the get the silvery mist…so no I guess," she huffed.
"That's better than either Sirius and I were either to manage after almost two months of trying. Pretty impressive Evans," he flirted with a smirk.
Lily smirked back, "I just set you up for the perfect opportunity to show off in front of me Potter. You better take it."
James chuckled, and just thought him and Lily flirting at that very moment, "Expecto Patronum!" He yelled. Surprisingly nothing came out. "Uhhh…well this hasn't happened in a while. Let me try again."
This time, he thought of that moment on the train ride when he thought they were going to kiss, that memory worked when he cast the Patronus just this morning, "Expecto Patronum!" He yelled again with more power. Again, nothing happened.
It was clear Lily was trying to hold back a laugh, "Oh sod off Evans, you know I can cast it. You said so yourself."
"It's okay James. It happens to every guy. It's totally normal. Some men get performance anxiety when they're with a pretty girl," she finished with a fit of giggles.
"Not funny Evans," James said even though it was clear he was trying to hold a laugh back too.
Once they both sobered up a bit, Lily suggested, "Um, why don't I try levitating you, just on this staircase to practice a bit."
"Okay…" cautioned James slowly, "but, I swear, if you drop me, and damage any part of me necessary for quidditch, I am not going to stop all the angry Gryffindors from coming after you for hurting their chance at the Cup."
Lily rolled her eyes in response, "I'm not scared of some quidditch obsessed Gryffindors, and I am pretty sure the only Gryffindor who would ever dare hold a wand against me is Sirius, and we all know how that worked out for him last time," she challenged.
"Touché Evans, but the point still stands. Please don't hurt me," he jokingly begged.
"Stand still then James." Lily dropped her bag on the stair below her, took a deep breath and firmly said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" James stayed firmly on the ground. "What the actual fuck!? I got that charm the first time I tried in first year!"
"Don't worry Evans. It happens to everyone. Especially if you're with an extremely handsome lad like myself."
"Shut it! This is serious. I don't think any magic will work here for some reason."
"What!?" James eyes widened as he started furiously waving his wand and shouting, "Lumos! Lumos Maxima! Aguamenti!"
They both looked at each other with wide eyes in complete panic.
"Well fuck," gulped Lily. "What are we going to do?!"
James blinked, and then took a breath. "Um..shit, okay, we need to calm down and just wait, I guess. I don't think there's anything we can do if our wands aren't working," he reasoned.
"Right, okay…that's good…you're calm, I should be calm too," she took a deep breath, "I am calm. Totally zen. So let's just wait. Someone is bound to walk by eventually. Might actually be interesting to camp out here for the night."
"Uhhh…I don't think we'll have to worry about that. I know for a fact that McGonagall does rounds of the entire Gryffindor Tower after the midnight, and it's still only 11."
"Gee, I wonder why she does that?" questioned Lily with a knowing smirk as she sat down on the stair she was standing on.
James followed her lead and sat down as well, "Well, she only caught us that one time in second year, but you have to give her props for continuing to try."
"You boys should give her a special goodbye prank just for her on her last round of the year before we leave."
"We should! Why didn't we think of that!?"
"Because we all know I come up with Marauders' best ideas," claimed Lily confidently.
"HA! Yeah right Evans, you only once suggested a prank for Slughorn, and while yes, it relieved us of Potions for a week, it was not, by any means our best prank," argued James.
"Well, that's unfair. The quality of a prank is completely subjective then because while I know that one's the best, you seem to see another bogus truth."
James chuckled, "Whatever Evans, agree to disagree?"
"Fine," replied Lily with a smirk and a sarcastic huff.
With Lily's back against one bannister and James' back against the other banister lounging on the step below her, they then went on to discuss some of the Marauders' other great pranks and whether or not Lily's influence played any part in their brilliance.
After a good hour having debated the brilliance of the Maurader pranks, coming up with ways to sabotage Sirius' moustache, and Lily explaining to James why she thought muggle candy was better than wizarding candy, Lily remembered her unanswered question from earlier.
"So you never did tell me, how is the quidditch team looking for Saturday's game?"
"Oh right! Glad you asked actually! We're doing pretty well. That being said, we really need to clean up our defense. Our offense is next to perfect thanks to me and the other chasers, but Ravenclaw's defense is always better than ours. I mean, they like to double-team the best chaser on each team, and for Gryffindor, that's me. Sirius and Cootes wanted to do the same with Ravenclaw, but all their chasers are so bloody similar in style, it's hard to pin-point which is actually the best, you know? So I am trying to train them to fly in between their three chasers at all times so that they can't pass to each other. This way—"
"James, can you shut up now?" pleaded Lily.
"Hey! You asked!"
"Yes, I did ask, and now I deeply regret it."
James chuckled and rolled his eyes, "You always do this. You ask me about quidditch, and then tell me to shut up part way through my answers. So I think as punishment, you should be forced to listen to the rest of my quidditch talk tonight."
"Well, I only ask you because it's cute to watch you get so excited," stated Lily nonchalantly. James's reaction to that response, however, was anything but nonchalant. His ears were ringing, and his heart was soaring. Yet, to his total shock, he still managed to put up his famous flirtatious smirk.
"You think I'm cute when I talk quidditch Evans?"
"Sod off James. We both know I think you're attractive, and we both sure as hell know you think I'm attractive."
James wasn't really expecting that answer. His ears and heart were still ringing and soaring. I mean, attraction doesn't necessarily mean that she fancies him…could it? That's when James remembered, could this weird stuck on staircase thing be Hogwarts' way of helping him? He'd totally forgotten that he asked for Hogwarts help at this point, but it's starting to make sense now. This is his chance! It must me! There's no other explanation.
But, sweet Merlin, why couldn't Hogwarts have been a bit more obvious in it's approach!? Or at least given James time to come up with a game plan and consult with the Marauders!? Now he was starting to get nervous.
"Earth to James?" motioned Lily with her wand and hand.
"Sorry what?" piped up James.
"I just asked you what your plans are for Hogsmeade."
This was it. He was going to ask Lily Evans out, and she was going to say yes. Hogwarts was on his side this time. Nothing was stopping him now.
He took a deep breath, ruffled his hair, and said, "actually…Lily? I was wondering if you wanted to—"
"What on earth are you two doing up there!?"
James and Lily both looked down to see a furious looking Professor McGonagall from the bottom of the staircase in the corridor.
"It's not what it looks like Professor! We didn't do anything! The stairs just stopped moving, and we got stuck here!" yelled Lily down to her.
James was still reeling from him lost moment with Lily, and just stared wide-eyed at both of them as they yelled to each other.
"It most certainly does not look that way Miss Evans. What did you two do to the staircases? This must have taken some extreme magic! Will I find Mr. Black perched behind some pillar?" She asked as she quickly grabbed her wand from her robe and said, "Homenum Revelio!" She paused and turned her head wildly to see if the spell revealed anything. Lily and James just continued to stare at her, after a moment or two with no appearance from Sirius, McGonagall said, "It's just you too, but still, you two need to get down here this instant."
"We can't! We're honestly stuck. We didn't do anything to the staircase," stressed Lily.
"Our wands aren't even working up here," added James.
"I highly doubt that." McGonagall assured. She then made some fancy movements with her wand and proceeded to float up to their staircase.
James and Lily looked on with wide eyes and open mouths as their straight-line professor gracefully floated herself up the staircase like some sort of angel—all grace and ease.
"Merlin's Beard you two, why didn't you just jump onto the other staircase? It's only a metre or two. Honestly."
James and Lily's mouths were still open as their heads turned confusedly to look at the small gaps between each staircase.
"We swear professor, that gap was like—like 20 metres before, and our wands, Merlin, our wands weren't working…at all…I—I don't know what's happening," spluttered Lily.
"It's just Hogwarts doing its thing I guess," reasoned James with a small shoulder shrug. He had just begun to accept that Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways at this point.
Both Lily and McGonagall started staring daggers at James in that moment.
"James Fleamont Potter, if this was some sort prank, so help me—"
"It wasn't me! I had nothing to do with it!" directly, James added as an afterthought.
McGonagall looked at him with a thin-mouth, scrutinizing him to the best of her ability, which usually worked on James. However, James remained steadfast in his innocent stare. McGonagall sighed, and her mouth loosed slightly to say, "well, whatever happened here, it looks like everything's in place anyway, other than staircase being slightly off, but Albus will know how to fix it. No one was hurt, and it's not past the head students' curfew yet. Therefore, I suppose you two should just head straight to your dorms for now. However, don't let this happen again Mr. Potter."
James was about to argue once again that this was not his doing, but decided against it and just nodded quietly. "Yes Ma'am."
"Good, now off you two."
Lily grabbed her bag, then grabbed James and proceeded to, carefully, jump up to the next staircase as McGonagall magicked herself back down to the main corridor to go get Dumbledore.
"Do you promise that you didn't pull anything back there?"
"I swear to you Lils," he implored
Lily looked back at him earnestly, "Okay, I believe you. But Merlin, that was actually ridiculous."
"Yeah, but still not the strangest thing that's happened in these halls I bet."
"Too true, Potter. Too true," replied Lily as they walked back toward the common room. James couldn't help but notice that Lily seemed somewhere else in that moment though, as if she was trying to work out some puzzle in her head. There was the slightest turn of her mouth, and her green eyes didn't seem as bright as usual. James was a bit out of it too though honestly. He still felt like Hogwarts was trying to tell him something here, but he just needed another sign—another moment.
"Um…James?" Lily asked quietly all of a sudden.
"Yeah Lils?" For what must have been at least the third time that night, James felt like this was Hogwarts' doing.
"What were you going to say back there? Before on the staircase…about—about Hogsmeade, I mean. Before McGonagall interrupted and all," Lily's cheeks were turning red.
James' heart started hammering. This had to be it. Now was his chance. Hopefully, Hogwarts, or anyone else for that matter, wouldn't interrupt him this time.
"Yeah…right, so Evans—Lily…you've become one of my best friends this past year, and well," James' hand went to ruffle his hair, "I don't want to mess it up and all, but you have to know that I still fancy the pants off you."
"Wait…what? You do?" Her eyes brightened, and her cheeks turned impossibly rosier.
"Yeah, and I don't think I'll stop fancying you anytime soon…I honestly don't know how you feel. Well, I mean, I know you like me as your friend and all, but—" James' hand went to his hair once more as he stopped outside the sleeping Fat Lady's portrait and turned toward Lily, "I would really love to go to Hogsmeade with you Lily."
Lily's mouth kept opening and closing. This was worse than the three-way staring contest between him, Dumbledore, and that Phoenix. He wasn't even sure if his heart was still beating at this point. Maybe Hogwarts wasn't helping him after all. Maybe Dumbledore is as mad as he seems. After what felt like an eternity, James broke the silence in desperation, "Look, Lily—"
"No, wait! I have something to say. I just need to gather my thoughts. So shut up for a minute Potter," demanded Lily.
"Uhhh…right. Okay," nodded James.
Lily was just simply looking at him now, and despite her rosy cheeks, and brightened green eyes, she seemed expressionless, like Dumbledore was. Another eternity later, she took a deep breath, "James?"
"Yeah?" cautioned James.
"Why did you not ask me out before if you still fancied me?" asked Lily in an eerily calm voice.
"Honestly, I don't know. Well, I mean, I'm still kind of recovering from the whole 'giant squid' thing…" finished James with a chuckle. Lily hit James on the arm in response, "Ow!"
"This is not funny Potter!" yelled Lily.
"You two! It is past midnight! Head students or not! You shouldn't—"
"Fawkes," said James. The portrait swung open and James and Lily stepped inside the empty common room.
"Lily, look. I've been wanting to ask you out again since the summer, but I've honestly just been too scared, until now I guess, and I also thought that if you liked me back, you would've asked me out by now."
"Well, I thought you didn't like me that way anymore!" exclaimed Lily.
"What!?" James' eyes widened. "You fancy me back?"
"Yes! Since, like, halfway through sixth year you fool!"
"Why didn't you ask me out then!?" marvelled James wide-eyed.
"Like I said! I didn't think you still fancied me anymore!"
"What gave you that ridiculous idea!?"
"I don't know! I just thought, well…the ball was your court!"
"What bloody ball Evans!?"
"Ugh…James!" huffed Lily as she rolled her eyes, dropped her bag, stood on her tip-toes, took his face in her hands, and brought her lips to his.
James just stood there for a second, before he realized what was happening and began to move his lips in time with hers, and his arms immediately went around her waist to hug her close against him. He was in absolute heaven. He couldn't fucking believe. He was actually kissing Lily bloody Evans in the fucking Gryffindor Common Room. He was thanking every God and deity out there.
Lily finally released from him to catch her breath, and softly whispered against his mouth, "I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you by the way."
"Good," he replied, affectionately rubbing his nose against hers before he continued to passionately kiss her.
After a few solid minutes of snogging, James and Lily parted ways to head up to their respective dorms with grins on their faces, racing hearts and a flush in their cheeks. James even stopped halfway on the staircase to catch his bearings. He didn't want to walk into his dorm looking like a right sod. Then he remembered he owed someone—or something—a thank you.
He gently placed his hand against the stone wall, and said, "Thank you Hogwarts. As a gift, I promise to learn every word to the school song, and to never, uhh personally that is, put off a dung bomb in your halls ever again, and—"
"Uhhh…James?"
James looked up, and to his absolute horror, Sirius, Remus and Peter all stood there on there at the top of the staircase outside their dorm on the verge of laughing their asses off.
"What the fuck are you doing mate?" laughed Sirius.
"Yeah, who are you talking to Prongs?" snickered Peter.
"I'll have you know, that I have a date with Evans and I was just thanking the place that helped me get it."
That shut them up for a second. Sirius, Remus and Peter had abruptly stopped laughing, and each of them had dumbstruck looks plastered on their faces. Before Sirius utter with a grin, "well, it's about bloody time. What'd you do to finally seal the deal though?"
"I asked for help."
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knybits · 5 years
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A Murder of One
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Chapter: 
20
Summary: 
Recovery in Tokyo. Oyakata-sama’s proposal is revealed. Akiko befriends an unlikely person. 
Warning!! The use of needles in this chapter! Akiko donates some blood!
Previous Chapter | Origin | Next Chapter 
“A doctor! You’re a doctor now!” 
Akiko bitterly chews at her cookies, seated on the couch at her parent’s house in Tokyo. Of course, she’s visiting against her will because Shinobu said it would be “good for her.” 
Akiko hates it. 
Ray stares at the certificate in his hands, eyes wide with wonder and pride before he rushes over to hug his daughter once again, kissing the top of her head. 
“And within four years? Hiratsuka our daughter is a GENIUS!” 
Hiratsuka sighs, a hand to her forehead before she tries her hardest to peel Ray away from Akiko, “Dear, you’re choking her. What happened to ‘do no harm,’ hm?” 
“But look!! Our daughter is all grown up!!” 
Akiko has to tear her ‘certificate’ away from her father, who has wet the piece of paper with his tears. Shinobu and Oyakata’s signatures are smeared a bit now, but in all honesty Akiko doesn’t really care. 
It’s just for show anyway. Something the demon slaying corps. whipped up for her to bring back to her family. 
“Can I go to my room now?” Akiko snaps, and her parents stop their antics to look at her in shock. Akiko mumbles an apology under her breath, hands gripping her hakama as her shoulders tense up. 
Ray’s about to ask what’s wrong, but Hiratsuka speaks out first, “Sure honey. Do you want dinner later?” 
Akiko’s already halfway up the stairs by the time Hiratsuka is done asking, and Akiko not answering is enough for Hiratsuka to understand what she wants. 
Ray stares at his wife, a frown deeply settled onto his face. 
“She’s not getting any better,” he claims, and Hiratsuka settles into the spot Akiko just sat. 
“Don’t say that Ray… Every time she comes back home, she’s seen more and more and I’m scared she’s lost a bit of herself…” She cups her face into her hands, sighing deeply as her eyes well up with tears. 
Ray looks at his wife pitifully. 
Truth be told, he’s feeling the weight on his shoulders as well. 
Hiratsuka and he discuss every night over whether it was a good idea or not to let Akiko leave them and study on her own. They receive letters every once in a while, but not enough to ease their pain. 
“Maybe… Maybe it was something recent? She was happier last time, though that was around a year ago…” 
Hiratsuka stifles a sob and Ray takes a knee in front of his wife, brushing the tears streaming down her face to kiss her eyes. 
“Have faith in Akiko, love. She’s an adult now. If she decides to continue her practice at our hospital then we’ll be able to look after her, sure, but it’s her decision to make,” Ray frowns in the direction of Akiko’s room. 
Akiko isn’t really having a ball either. 
She’s laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with her hands folded across her chest. She hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday, but she’s too tired to eat. But she can’t sleep either. 
Akiko would close her eyes and regret not making Tanjirou stay for treatment back at the red light district. 
Her parents don’t bother her until the next morning. They find her stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, and the only way they can tell that she’s even alive is by the slight rise and fall of her chest, the off beat flutter of her eyes, and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of her fist. 
They decide to just leave breakfast for her by her bedside table, but when Mika comes to pick up the tray around noon, there’s only a bite taken from the plate. 
“I tried,” Akiko mumbles under her breath, to which Mika nods her head. 
Hiratsuka tries her best to get Akiko out of the mansion, and on some occasions it works. But the minute she sees someone she used to go to school with, she’d drag her mother into an alleyway with the nastiest glare on her face. 
“You’ll get wrinkles honey,” Hiratsuka cups her daughter’s face into her hands, pouting playfully. 
“S’fine,” Akiko mumbles before tugging her mother out of the alleyway and dragging her feet down the streets of Asakusa. 
It’s during the night that Ray and Hiratsuka are particularly worried. 
They can hear Akiko leave once the city’s fallen asleep. 
Sometimes she crawls through the window and hops a roof or two, and sometimes she’ll tip toe down the stairs and past the maid’s quarters before slipping out the front door. 
They have faith that Akiko will tell them everything that’s been going on with her in due time. 
---
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Tamura-san,” Tamayo gazes at the sickly girl with worry. There’s a needle in her hand, but Akiko’s already tightly wrapped a band around her right bicep. 
There’s a small ball in her hand and she’s marked the point of entry, so she offers Tamayo a tired smile before nodding her head. 
“I don’t mind. You need the blood, don’t you? We can talk while I give you some of mine,” Akiko gestures to her displayed forearm and Tamayo smiles kindly, not a wrinkle on her immortal looking face. 
She may be an old demon, but she looks far healthier than Akiko has ever looked in the past four years. 
Akiko doesn’t flinch when Tamayo inserts the needle, and it takes a second before the line of blood slowly makes its way into the bag on the floor. 
She’s donated her blood time and time again, and this occasion is no different. True, it’s a bit odd for Akiko to think that her blood will be digested rather than used for surgeries or transfusions, but she reminds herself that it’s for science. 
“You seem more than relaxed doing this,” Tamayo comments and the tips of Akiko’s lips twitch up. Yushiro sits nearby, watching Akiko warily. She can see the distrust in his eyes, but she knows that he doesn’t see Akiko as a threat. 
What’s she gonna do? 
Drop like a bag of bricks out of malnutrition onto the two? 
“There’s a scientist that discovered different categories of blood. When I tested my blood a few years ago, I found that it matched the type where I could give my blood to anyone and they won’t suddenly die. Since then, I’ve been donating blood for the demon corps in case of emergencies,” Akiko explains. 
Tamayo regards the young doctor with fascination. Time and time again, her eyes would look through Yushiro’s blood demon art and she would find their new hideout with ease. 
No wonder Yushiro doesn’t like Akiko. 
“I’m sure you’re aware that Oyakata-sama has been keeping in touch with you recently,” Akiko comments. The pencil in Yushiro’s hand snaps and she raises a brow at the seething demon with mock curiosity. 
Tamayo flickers her eyes to the floor, hands folded into her lap before she carefully nods her head. 
“Then I’m sure you’re aware of what it is that we have to do,” Akiko can feel her core temperature drop, and she squeezes the ball every few seconds, counting her breaths too. 
“If you think for a second that we’ll help the demon slayers-!” Tamayo raises a hand to stop Yushiro’s outburst. When she apologizes to Akiko, Yushiro merely clicks his tongue and takes his seat once more. He doesn’t like how unnerved Akiko looks. 
“Yushiro, I’ve had time to think of this. Tamura-san, Ubuyashiki-san and I have even been sending letters to each other,” Tamayo sighs. Yushiro’s face falls and his shoulders drop at the sudden realization of Tamayo’s words. 
Akiko watches as Tamayo silently stands from her seat, walking over to a small drawer before quietly opening it and picking out a thick folder of papers. There’s also a small box, and by the clinking that Akiko hears she can only assume that there are some test tubes in the box. 
“You’ll find all my findings here. I’ve already written another copy of this folder, so this is for you to keep.” 
With a nod of her head, Akiko takes the folder with her spare hand. She wordlessly flips through the papers, eyes working at lightning speed as they brisk through the science behind demons, the genetic make up and the hypothesis for a cure. 
“And you believe that with the blood of an Upper Moon demon that you received nearly two months ago that we can make the cure,” Akiko says placidly, closing the folder. The slight nod in Tamayo’s head is enough. 
For the first time in a while, Akiko finds herself smiling. The taste of victory is so strong in her mouth. 
It tastes of a peaceful day with Tanjirou, the two hand in hand with Nezuko under the sunlight. 
If Akiko were a little nicer, Zenitsu would be with them too. 
Tamayo carefully slides the needle out of Akiko arm, and she flexes it to return some feeling into her arm. When Tamayo wordlessly gives Akiko a piece of candy, Akiko blinks blankly at it. 
She can’t help but laugh a little, and Tamayo smiles at Akiko as well. It’s a small gesture, but it’s grounding to Akiko. A simple thank you that lifts Akiko’s spirits. 
Then, she bows lowly in her seat, forehead touching her knees with all the gratefulness in her heart. 
“Tamayo-san… I believe that we will be the women that will change the world,” Akiko smiles widely when she looks up, and Tamayo’s heart skips a beat. 
It has a nice ring to it. 
The women that will change the world. 
---
“The Mist Pillar has an abrasion on his right palm!” 
“Can I take a break?” 
Akiko’s finally returned to the Butterfly Estate, waving her driver off as he drives away in the Model-T. Akiko sighs to herself, swatting Miruna from her shoulder before reaching down to heft both her suitcase and her physician’s bag in both hands. 
“Time to get to work I guess…” 
Muichirou is waiting patiently on the engawa, his hands behind his back as he stares up at the clouds. 
Akiko sees a small puddle of blood from under Muichirou’s right hand and she pulls a rag from her pocket, seating herself besides the Mist Pillar in seiza position. 
“Tokitou-san, I know you don’t remember me but please stop bleeding on the engawa and give me your hand.” 
Muichirou blinks out of his stupor, but he nods his head and listlessly offers Akiko his hand. She’s quick to clean up his little cut, from which she can see he received by tripping over a rock and stopping his fall with just his right hand. 
From what she can see, he’s killed another 34 more demons since Akiko last visited, and she frowns. 
“Don’t you have orders to only pursue upper moon demons?” 
“The demons were in my way,” he answers, and Akiko raises a brow. 
It’s actually her first time hearing his voice. He never talks and Akiko doesn’t even want to bother asking him questions while she accompanies him on his missions. So the fact that he even answered her piques her interest. 
“At any rate, you should rest your body. You’re still developing, despite being such an incredible swordsman. And you don’t know how to control your strength, so you’ve chipped your sword a bit,” Akiko points out. 
Muichirou looks at his sword, noticing that it is in fact chipped once again. He doesn’t say anything, but Akiko can tell that he’s making plans to have it resharpened. 
“...Yeah, okay.” 
Akiko strains to smile, finishing up with her wrapping as she ties a great big bow on top of his hand. But Akiko remembers that he’s still a child, so she sighs in defeat. 
She pulls her suitcase close to her, popping it open and rummaging through the mess. Muichirou stares at her plainly, not much going through his head. He isn’t even curious as to what she’s looking for. 
But he blinks in surprise when Akiko produces a bag of candy from her case. 
“Hold you hand out,” she commands, and Muichirou instinctively does as he’s told. Akiko shoves a hand into the bag, grabs a fistful of the candy she bought from Tokyo, then dumps it into Muichirou’s uninjured palm. 
“You have to eat all of this, doctor’s orders.” 
“...What’s the point?” 
Akiko looks into the bag, pulling out a lollipop from the West and unwrapping the paper cover before popping it into her mouth. 
“I dunno. You’re a kid right? Aren’t kids super happy when they get candy?” 
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sorry for the long ass break everyone! i hope this was entertaining enough for you guys to read! also, yeah, i need to fix up plot holes smh,,, oyakata’s proposal was mentioned forever ago when she first met him and left his estate, and im sure it wasnt thought much of. but ive been planning this story for a while, so im excited to write this woman team duo of the biggest brains within the story!!  
i hope the next chapter wont take too much time, but i already have parts of it typed up so it shouldnt take long! maybe we’ll get back to our regular updating schedule?? haha, ill try, but im honestly waiting for the manga at this point :/ although i already have the ending idea in my head! 
hope you guys stay tuned for the next chapter! ill probs make some shitty memes of akiko and zenitsu bc those two are fools 
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artificialqueens · 5 years
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Floating (BrookexYvie) - ImposterZoe
AN: Look who's alive! And with Astral Projection Yvie no less! Thanks to Mistress for beta-ing.
He fell asleep. That's the last thing Yvie remembers. Curling up. Drifting off. Floating off.
He felt himself rise but turned to see his body still on the floor. For a second he wondered if he was dead but he watched his chest rise and fall.
He found if he concentrated he could sense his body pulse with each heartbeat.
He stood there a minute, staring at his sleeping form. He fought a groan as he watched Asia take a picture of him. On instinct, he stretched a hand out to swat Asia's shoulder in irritation.
His hand went straight through the man's arm and deep in his core, Yvie felt Asia's amusement as his hand went through.
Knock it off, he thought. It felt as if the thought traveled through his body straight into Asia. The second his hand had passed through, Asia's arm twitched and he abruptly walked away.
Slowly Yvie's feet left the ground and he looked up as he went towards the ceiling. He flinched, his hands going up to shield his face as he went up.
A sharp gasp left him as instead of an impact he felt himself go through the concrete.
Soon he had floated through the top of the building, staring at the city below. As if he was made of paper, he felt a breeze at his back, propelling him forward.
There's somewhere I need to go, he thought. A warm feeling spreads from his chest. He was right.
He didn't fight the mystery wind as it blew him towards wherever he needed to be. He just leaned his head back, picking out the few constellations he knew.
Eventually he felt himself descend. He went through a hotel, landing outside room. He didn't even know what state he was in. Let alone whose room he was in front of.
He slowly leaned forward, only putting his head through the door. And the sight of Brooke making out with Vanjie on the bed made him jump so far he threw himself into Nina's room on the next floor.
He yelped, barely stabilizing himself before he floated through the window. He took a second to catch his breath.
As his breathing slowed he took the time to mentally remark the fact that Nina was belting out a Disney song in the shower.
After steeling his nerves, Yvie slowly sat, sighing as he sunk through the floor. He kept his eyes shut as he floated down into Brooke's room.
He felt the carpet solid beneath him. He could hear the bed squeaking and risked a peek.
In the thirty seconds he'd been gone, Vanjie had shimmied out of his shirt and was attempting to get Brooke to the same state.
Yvie's words burst out of him in frustration. "Aren't you supposed to be broken up?! Why did I need to see this?!"
He flinches as Brooke pulls back from Vanjie, looking directly at him. Yvie tilts his head to the side.
Could Brooke… see him?
"What?" Vanjie wonders, turning towards the corner. Yvie knew at once that Vanjie couldn't see him. But Brooke's gaze didn't waver.
Brooke shakes his head, confusion filling his eyes. "I thought I heard someone. It's like someone's here."
Vanjie sits back slightly. "Someone like who?"
"Yvie," Brooke breathes out. Vanjie lets out a groan and stands.
He walks over to the corner and Yvie fights his fear as Vanjie steps dead into him. Yvie feels his annoyance and jealousy.
"See? Nothin' in the corner. Why you so obsessed with him lately?"
Brooke rolled his eyes. "I'm not obsessed."
Vanjie snorted, stepping out of Yvie. "Yes you are, bitch. You know you are."
Yvie watched the fight with increasing interest.
Brooke threw Vanjie his shirt in annoyance. "Maybe you should leave."
Vanjie tugged his shirt on but didn't move. "Oh I mention your odd little crush so you push me away. Sounds familiar."
Brooke fights a snarl. "It's not a crush. He's my friend."
Vanjie rolls his eyes, leaning against the wall. "A friend you don't let touch anyone else when you're in the same place."
Yvie bites his lip. He had noticed Brooke being a bit possessive lately. He'd been ignoring it. He almost missed Vanjie's muttered words.
"More protective of that bitch than you ever were of me."
Yvie can tell Brooke doesn't think before he speaks. "Maybe that bitch means more to me than you did."
Vanjie's head snaps up in shock. It quickly turns to anger. "So what? Gonna end this?" He rapidly gestures between them. "Again? For him?"
Brooke doesn't answer right away. Doesn't say "No," like assumed he would. His eyes drift to where Yvie's sitting again. "Yes I am."
Yvie jumps up while Vanjie flinches. "Say it clearly." He grits out. Yvie doesn't have to touch him to feel his heart breaking.
Brooke regards Vanjie cooly. "Branjie's dead, Vanj. I'm don't want you anymore."
Vanjie's walks forward, looking Brooke in the eye. "Why is he so special that you're leaving me again?"
Brooke lets out a soft sigh. "I'd be free with him. I'm just not with you."
"Did you ever cheat on me with him?" Vanjie blurts. Brooke doesn't seemed shocked by the question. Yvie on the other hand almost pisses his pants.
It does take a Brooke a moment to answer. "No. I left you when I realized I wanted to."
Vanjie stares at Brooke blankly and for a second Yvie thinks he's about to get slapped. But Vanjie just shakes his head and walks toward the door.
"I'm sorry Vanjie." Brooke calls. Vanjie freezes in the doorway. His shoulders fall forwards and he looks back at Brooke with a face full of tears.
"I hope freedom is everything you're hoping for." he whispers. Then the door is shut and he's gone.
Brooke stares after him before throwing his gaze across the room. "Yvie?" he calls. "Are you there?"
Brooke's gaze continues to sweep the room landing on Yvie once more. "Are you there?" he asks again.
Yvie gives a small hop, floating a few inches from the ground. He floats forward, circling Brooke slowly. The man's eyes follow him the whole time.
Brooke runs a hand anxiously over his head. "Can you give me a sign or something? Just so I know I'm not insane?"
Yvie moves directly in front of Brooke. He thinks for a second before his hands raise on their own accord. His feet find the ground as his hands press into Brooke's chest. He doesn't realize he grabs directly onto Brooke's heart.
They both let out a sharp gasp.
"You're really here." Brooke whispers.
"You really love me," Yvie whispers back.
"Where are you? How're you here if I can't see you?" Brooke's heartbeat picks up in Yvie's hands as he starts to freak out.
"I don't know," he whispers. "The last thing I remember, I was falling asleep on the floor and then I was floating here. You can hear me but not see me?"
Brooke blinks slowly. "Sort of. You sound far away. And it's more like I can sense you. Are you touching me?"
Yvie nods without thinking. "Oh um. My hands are sort of… in your chest."
Brooke cocked his head to the side. "If you're dead, I'll kill you."
Yvie laughs softly, taking that moment to think back to his body. He'd rolled over but that was about it. His heartbeat thrummed through his hands.
Brooke yelped at the sensation. "Alive then?" he squeaks.
"Very alive." Yvie responds.
Brooke pops an eyebrow. "Has this ever happened before?"  
Yvie shakes his head. "Nope, never. Brooke?"
"Yes?"
"Everything you said to Vanjie was true? Even the wanting to cheat part?"
Brooke hangs his head and Yvie feels his shame. "Yeah it is. I knew you would never go along with it."
Yvie gives a sigh. "You were right. Why didn't you say something?"
Brooke rolled his eyes. "Because I'm a coward. Why else?"
Yvie goes to respond when he starts to rise. He yelps, tugging on Brooke's heart as his feet go towards the ceiling.
"Where are you going?!" Brooke cries. Yvie focused on his body. Someone was shaking his shoulder.
"Someone's trying to wake me up!" he cries.
Brooke's heart speeds up in Yvie's hands. "Don't go. Please don't go yet."
Yvie feel Brooke become less and less of an anchor. "I don't think I can hold on." he whispers.
"Can you come back? We won't see each other in person for like another month!"
Yvie grits his teeth, the strain of staying wearing him down. "I'll. Try." he grunts.
Brooke feels as Yvie lets go. He feels empty as one last whisper snakes into his mind. "I love you."
Yvie floats away to Brooke's whisper of "I love you too."
The wind picks up and he's zooming across the sky. Faster and faster. The city beneath him is nothing but zooming lights.
Then he's sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and glaring at Asia.
"What?" he hisses at the man.
Asia holds his hands up in surrender. "You said to wake you up in three hours."
Yvie lets out a pressed sigh. "Oh.  Right. Thanks."
Asia gives a stiff nod before striding away.
Yvie spends a second longer on the floor, running his hands for a second. He had things to do. A lot of things.
Please, he begged internally, let me go to him tonight.
He stands and goes to get on with his day. But he had the same train of thought the whole time.
Let me float away tonight.
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magioftheseas · 5 years
Text
Staying Together as We Fall Apart
Summary: Komaeda's plan failed. It failed spectacularly and horrendously and there’s no recovering from it. Hinata Hajime ruined everything. And he really, really doesn't understand how things turned out this way. There's only one thing he's sure about. That he's glad Komaeda survived.
Rating: T+
Warnings: Blood, implied/threatened violence, mental instability and breakdowns, and panic attacks.
Notes: YAAAAAAA CHAPTER 5 FIC WHERE KOMAEDA LIVES FOR KOMAEDA DAAAAAY. It’s not very happy. I was also like requested this like, uh, five years ago. And have been working/procrastinating ever since. Yeah. This was a long time coming. But when I checked it it was like so close to done that I was just “what the hell” and finished it up. Yeah. Please enjoy. Or suffer. Everyone else already is.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
Will this ending be one of despair or one of hope?
It’s not like I’ll be around to see it, but, more than anything I want...
At some point, he grew numb to the burning agony all across his body. He just laid in silence in darkness, breathing heavily through his nose as the tape’s underside grew moist and slimy rather than sticky against his open mouth. Any moment he could shut his eyes tight and drift into painful darkness, but he resolutely stared upwards towards the ceiling and the hanging spear.
There can’t be anything but a brilliantly hopeful ending from this, right? That’s right... That’s right.
He’s going to die here. It shouldn’t matter.
But there was going to be a brilliantly hopeful ending at the end. It hurt now—it really, really hurt—but once it was all over, there’d be nothing but hope. Nothingness and hope.
So hurry up already, he can’t help but think, tiredly and irritably. Worthless despairs—how long are you idiots going to make me wait? Come over here right away—hurry up—
Hinata-kun...
“K-Komaeda?!”
Komaeda’s fluttering gaze shot open wide as he turned. Standing in the entryway, stiff and staring down with nothing short of unremarkable, completely expectable horror on his plain, plain features was Hinata-kun.
Komaeda’s grip on the spear slipped as both he and Hinata screamed.
--
“Guys?! GUYS?! Y-You’re here?!”
There was music playing, but they still somehow picked up on that exclamation.
“Hinata...?!” Souda gasped as Kuzuryuu cursed. “Hinata, where ARE ya? I-Is that nutjob...?!”
“H-Hold on...!” Hinata shouts and none of them could see him even as they looked around. “I... I’m on my way, just...!”
That was around when the fire started.
--
“S-Shit! Fuck! Guys! GUYS!”
“Hinata-san—! K-Komaeda-san?!”
“Hold on! We’ll do something about these flames!”
“Just—try to stay safe. Both of you.”
“H...Hurry...!”
This was absolutely incredible. This was amazing! This was, was...!
This was complete and utter despair. From the roaring flames to the rope that had been torn off to the hanging spear that Hinata had dragged him out from under.
Hinata was coughing from the smoke. But Hinata was still jostling him, trying to drag him further as Komaeda regarded him blankly.
“U-Urgh... H... Hang in there... Komaeda...”
Komaeda could’ve laughed if the sound wasn’t muffled and if it didn’t hurt to breathe so bad. Hinata is cursing over and over and rather violently, he shoves his tie over Komaeda’s nose. It doesn’t do much, it just makes it hurt more, but Hinata is trembling.
Hinata hisses suddenly. His shaking gets worse. His grip tightens and it’s worse than the blinding agony of his hand.
“K-Komaeda... Komaeda...”
Due to the flames, they’re trapped. For one brief, terrifying moment, Hinata seems as though he’s about to pass out from the smoke.
But through sheer force of will or something—something else, Hinata manages to stay alert until the sprinklers finally, finally go off.
And at that point, nothing else matters at all. Not even in the slightest. There’s not even any point in staying awake anymore.
“Komaeda...? H-Hey, Komaeda...! No, just... Just keep your eyes open...! Please!”
Hinata sounds so upset that Komaeda squeezes his eyes shut out of spite.
I should be the one crying right now.
It’s such a pitiful, vile thought. And the warmth of Hinata’s desperate embrace, the frantic brushes of his hand against his hair are all the worse for it.
I could die of humiliation right now. I wish I did.
“Hinata—! HINATA!!!”
“Guys! H-Hurry! I—I don’t know how much longer he’s going to last—please!!”
God. This is the fucking worst.
--
The others arrive. They see the state he’s in. Sonia screams. Kuzuryuu is the one who directs Hinata how to remove the knife embedded in his hand. That makes Komaeda scream, Hinata soothes him clumsily, apologizing softly, and, through his blurring vision—Komaeda can almost swear that someone is looking down upon him so coldly.
He wonders if it’s the traitor or someone else.
“Please... Take me back...” Once the tape’s removed, all he can do is beg like the worthless dog he is. “T-Take me back... I don’t... I-I don’t... I don’t...!”
“Don’t squirm so much, you asshole!”
“Please... Please...!”
“Komaeda, please! Calm down!”
“Just let me go back! Let me go!”
“K-Komaeda—!”
It hurts. It hurts so much. Aha. Haha. The person who’s looking down on me—
As he passes out, the only thing he’s sure about is that it’s not Hinata Hajime.
--
After that, well... Monokuma had seemed a little disappointed but who the hell cared. They managed to get Komaeda Nagito to the hospital, and after that, Hinata found himself in a painful position, too.
“Ow!”
“Uh, sorry.” Kuzuryuu does look really apologetic, clicking his tongue with a tense sigh as he tried cleaning the wound at least a little gentler. It still stung and had Hinata wincing as Kuzuryuu mumbled, near inaudibly, “I’m not exactly Tsumiki...”
“These don’t look that serious though,” Souda notes as he bandages his arm. “You can get some really nasty burns—but you uh, got real lucky, Hinata.”
“Lucky, huh,” Hinata mused.
Of course, Souda and Kuzuryuu both soured immediately. Souda in particular just let out a long, aggravated groan.
“Seriously what the hell even happened to that guy? Did someone seriously torture him or did that freak do all that shit to himself? Why did a fire get set off? What was with the bomb shit?! I told ya—we should’ve just kept him tied up from the start!”
“What I wanted to know,” Kuzuryuu murmured, low and deathly cold, “is why that fucker wanted to go back into the building so badly when he was...like that...”
“He was just crazy!” Souda exclaimed. “Since when does ANYTHING that asshole does make a lick of sense?!”
“I don’t think so...��� Hinata spoke up suddenly and slowly. “Komaeda seemed...hysterical about something. I’ve never seen him get like that except when he had the Despair Fever. Surely he had a motive for pulling off a stunt that complicated and...if he really injured himself like that...”
Was he really trying to get himself killed? For what? Was he hoping we’d think he was murdered? That... Something’s off about all this...
“We can interrogate him later,” Kuzuryuu huffed. “For now, we’re letting Monokuma treat that idiot and then...”
“We’re getting out of here,” Souda finished, firm and final. “Even if we have to drag that psychopath after us on a chain leash.”
“Did you have to be so weirdly specific?” Kuzuryuu asked, flustering him.
“I-It was just the first thing that came to mind for some reason! Don’t ask questions! Don’t look so deeply into it either!”
Hinata, smiling a bit at the banter, faltered soon after.
...Something’s really, really off about all this.
--
“Hinata-san, I’m so sorry! If I had just realized sooner that the bombs were fake...!”
“Sonia,” Hinata put up his hands between the two of them, smile strained. “None of this is in any way your fault.”
“Ugh.” Owari’s nose wrinkled in distaste as she took in his bandages arms and face. “You look terrible, though. At least the bandages look about right. But if they get undone, I’ll fix ‘em later, alright?”
“Thanks, Owari,” he replied, nodding. His smile twists all the same. “But, really, I’m fine. So you don’t need to worry about me.”
Annoyingly, the one I’m worried about is...
“...That guy...how is he doing?”
Owari’s face soured immediately and even Sonia’s mood seemed to plummet. Incredibly, Sonia took a deep breath, demurely folded her hands, and she answered.
“Komaeda-san should survive.” Owari scoffed, but Sonia admirably went on. “But his injuries were...of course...much more serious than yours so he’s not...ready to take visitors quite yet.”
Hinata nodded as Owari rolled her eyes.
“Who the hell even cares?” she complained, loudly. “With how that asshole had us running around like idiots, this is just what he deserves.”
Sonia flinched, as did he.
“Look,” he said. “I’m pissed, too, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. He was tortured, Owari.”
“He coulda did that shit to himself,” Owari pointed out. “It’s pretty likely, ain’t it? Komaeda’s definitely crazy enough to do that.”
“...Then does that not make the situation even more disturbing?” Sonia asked quietly. “Komaeda-san is...extreme but...this was...so extreme.”
“Is it really that hard to believe?” Owari shot back. “He’s crazy. That’s all there is to it.”
Sonia had nothing to say to that, but Hinata thought it over, irritated.
No... Even for Komaeda, this was...
“Still, we don’t know the whole story,” he said. “Until then, let’s just...refrain for now. Haven’t the past few days been exhausting enough?”
Owari stills, and she falters, and she nodded.
“Yeah,” she replied, softly and gruffly. “Fair enough, Hinata.”
It’s then, that he remembers, and can’t help but ask.
“By the way...where’s Nanami?” Hinata wondered if she was just playing games. The lodge had been miraculously fixed and it wasn’t like there was much else but wait around while Komaeda recovered. He wouldn’t be surprised, even if he very bitterly envied her, too, if that were the case.
“She’s standing guard,” Owari said. “For that guy. Just in case someone actually was trying to kill him, or so she said...”
Well, never mind that. Hinata couldn’t help but be irritated with himself for thinking otherwise.
“Hinata-san...” Sonia very carefully touches his shoulder. “You should get some rest. Do you want to rest here or back at your cabin? I do not mind accompanying you.”
“Me neither,” Owari added. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“You can help Nanami-san guard Komaeda-san,” Sonia pointed out. And she rolled her eyes hard.
“I don’t have anything better to do.”
That irritation flared up even more.
“Actually,” Hinata cut in with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll just...use one of the beds here. It’s no big deal and... I’m not in the mood to walk all the way back. You two can just...go.”
The way he spoke didn’t seem to have much in the way in room to argue, but that was just fine. Owari nodded like it wasn’t even a problem, and Sonia complied ever politely.
“Feel free to use the buzzer if you need anything,” she said. “Kuzuryuu-san already agreed to stay here just as he had before.”
Before...that’s right, this isn’t the first time Komaeda’s had to fight for his life in this stupid hospital...
Thinking that...really annoyed him so much more.
“Thanks, Sonia.”
--
Trying to get to sleep was decidedly an absolute pain in the ass. Even with the painkillers and bandages, there was hardly a position he could find that didn’t press into his wounds and cause them to ache. Stupid fire. Stupid Komaeda. Stupid culprit behind all this who very well and very easily could have also been Komaeda. Fucking Komaeda.
He didn’t have a great dream, either. Everything was burning, even his feet, and Komaeda wouldn’t stop laughing, laughing, laughing as Monokuma batted Hinata around like a ball of yarn. He woke up, groggy and pained and even more irritated.
And in one of the other beds, Nanami slept so serenely he wanted to scream. He did, in fact, muffle said scream against a pillow. And Nanami stirred awake.
“Hinata...kun...?”
“It’s nothing.” The words come out like a croak. What Hinata wouldn’t give right now to choke on a frog. “So you’re...taking a break from guarding, Nanami...?”
“Mm...” Nanami pushed herself up, rubbing at her eye with a soft yawn. “Kuzuryuu-kun’s guarding. So is...Monomi, I think.”
“I see,” Hinata replied.
“Ah, Komaeda-kun should be awake and available to visitors in a bit,” Nanami went on to say. “He’ll be...hungry, I think. Should I bring him something?”
“He has IVs in, doesn’t he?” Hinata muttered. “So he’s not being starved this time.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she agreed.
He couldn’t help but get more annoyed, and he shoved himself up.
“Nanami,” he said. “How long ago did you and Kuzuryuu switch?”
“Um...” She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to think. “A few...hours...? Three...or five? I dunno. I’ve been asleep for most of that time, I think.”
“There’s a clock, Nanami.”
“Oh... So there is.” Nanami blinked at the clock Hinata had gestured toward, and she nodded. “Yep. Five hours. I napped for a while, huh.”
Hinata stepped out of the bed, running fingers through his hair.
“Are you gonna go?” she asked, blinking those pink doe eyes at him next. “I mean, I should go, I think...since I agreed to guard him first...”
“Nanami,” he said, sighing. “It’s not like I have anything better to do when I can’t get any amount of decent sleep like this.”
She blinked once. Twice. And then, her head tilted. “I suppose that’s true.”
He supposed.
--
“And you’re sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, really.”
“...Hm.”
“Kuzuryuu, really.”
Kuzuryuu sighed, but he nodded all the same, patting Hinata’s shoulder. It doesn’t hurt. Not really. But he can’t help but remember how he supported Komaeda’s surprisingly slight frame on that shoulder.
Kuzuryuu is on his way soon after that, leaving Hinata just waiting there, outside the door, with the light still on, signaling an operation in progress. And so, Hinata sits down, and he waits.
And waits.
And waits.
--
He’s not sure how long it is. He wasn’t keeping track, not really.
(But if he did, he’d guess it had been about 4 hours, 52 minutes, 29 seconds, and 13 milliseconds. But that’d just be a guess. Just a guess.)
The doors open, and Monokuma waddles out. He pretends to look as surprised as he is quite disgustingly delighted.
“Hinata-kun! How nice of you to visit your dear, dear friend!”
“How is he?” he asked, voice gruff. “Did you kill him?”
“Moi? Of course not! I’m a bear of my word!” Monokuma exclaimed, giving a dreamy, flushed smile. “To disappoint you is such easy despair... But at the same time, it’s too easy. I might as well fulfill my words and wait for you to disappoint yourselves.”
“That’s nonsensical,” Hinata huffed. “How long will it be before Komaeda can take visitors?”
“Oh, you can go in there now!” Monokuma said. “There’s no need to wait! Just dive right in! He was up for a while anyway. All while I was working on him! Creepy, huh?”
He wasn’t even surprised, be it at Komaeda in general or at Monokuma’s usual audacity.
“...He’s going to be in a bad mood, then,” Hinata muttered, guessing. “Is he in pain?”
“Despairing agony, Hinata-kun! What else would you expect from your darling headmaster?” Monokuma blinked at him, all spinning flowers and sparkles. He winked, and it wasn’t any better. “But he’s beary, beary stubbornly alive. I can’t help but be beary impressed!”
This was getting difficult to...tolerate.
“I’m going to see him, then.”
“Heh?! So soon?! Gosh, you boys really are impatient, huh? So ready to get down and dirty!” Monokuma panted. Then he giggled, vibrating with delight. “You’re such a good friend, Hinata-kun! No, even closer than a friend, perhaps... A soulmate?!”
Souda said something like this. He takes it even less seriously now because it’s Komaeda, for fuck’s sake.
“Are you going to get out of the way or do I have to walk around?” he asked snappily. Monokuma stiffened, and then twirled out of the way.
“I’ll forgive you now, but never speak to your headmaster like that again!” He brandished sharp claws with a sharper gleam in his beady little eye. “Or else!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hinata muttered and didn’t even look at him as he opened the door and let himself in.
Then and there, it’s like a weight dropped onto his shoulders, leaving him struggling to do something as simple as swallow.
“...O... Oi... Komaeda...?”
--
He hadn’t gotten an answer at first. Komaeda wasn’t even looking at him. Komaeda was still lying down on the hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, gaze on the window. It was...reminiscent to when this had been Kuzuryuu in what felt like so, so long ago. But even then, Komaeda looks so much smaller, so much frailer, than even Kuzuryuu.
Hinata steps forward, and the weight on his shoulders shifts and threatens to shatter him in a moment’s notice if he’s not too careful.
“Komaeda.”
Nothing.
“Komaeda.”
Still nothing.
“Komaeda,” Hinata growled. “I know you can hear me, so just...answer already. For fuck’s sake.”
“Forgive me,” Komaeda said so airily. “I didn’t think I was listening to anything important.”
God, what a jackass.
“Komaeda, we need to talk.”
Komaeda still wasn’t looking at him.
“Komaeda...” His voice rose. “Oi...!”
“You’re so noisy,” Komaeda cut in dryly. “You can’t even give me time to gather my thoughts? My, my, for a reserve, you’re especially careless.”
Hinata flinched, and he slumped.
“...how are you feeling?” he asked lamely. “You...lost a lot of blood...”
“You don’t say,” Komaeda replied dully, still staring out the window. Hinata could almost see that unimpressed face reflected in the glass. “Any other stellar observations, reserve-san?”
Hinata grits his teeth.
“That situation,” he growled. “Who did that to you? The others said...that you left a video claiming that you’d expose the traitor. Well? Who is it? Or was that another lie?”
“Who knows,” Komaeda said so simply it infuriated him even more.
Is he even taking this seriously?! And after he got tortured!
...tortured...
Hinata’s eyes swept over him again, taking in those bandages...those slender limbs with protruding bone...
He can’t imagine how much it would’ve hurt. The burns were a minor anguish but for Komaeda, who got smoke into those open wounds... It must have been searing agony.
Warily, Hinata drew closer.
“Komaeda... Come on,” he said, raising his hands. “You... You have to explain at least some things.”
Finally, Komaeda looked at him. He looked at him...like he was a fucking idiot.
“No,” Komaeda said. “I don’t. It doesn’t matter.”
The hell it doesn’t.
“That’s for me to decide,” Hinata said, tensing. “Either way, I’m not going to let you wiggle out of this. With everything you’ve fucking done, I demand at least some kind of explanation.”
“What if I don’t comply?” Komaeda asked, blinking at him almost innocently. “What are you going to do? Torture me?”
And just like that, Komaeda’s eyes lit up with bright mania.
“I’m sure Kuzuryuu-kun knows a few methods! Ooh, maybe Sonia-san would know some as well? I’m sure Souda-kun can get pretty creative if he puts his mind to it. Maybe Owari-san can hold my head under water?” Komaeda’s lilt dropped to a low jeer just as Hinata began to see red. “Hey, Hinata-kun, what kind of games do you think Nanami-san would like to play—?”
Hinata’s features latched onto his robe as he was yanked up to eye-level, the other scowled with the ugliest of glares.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Hinata hissed, practically spitting into his face. “What have we done?”
Komaeda blinks at him.
“What have you done,” he repeats, less like a question and more like a deadpan. “What have you done—oh goodness, surely you aren’t seriously asking me that?”
“Yes!” Hinata shouted, bluntly and furiously. “Because I’d REALLY like to know! It’s one thing for you to treat me with disdain for being talentless—but it’s another thing for you to treat everyone else with just so much...malice! Don’t... Don’t tell me this is still all about your bullshit with the idea of hope...!”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” Komaeda says without missing a beat. He meets his burning glare with flippancy. “It’s because of hope. I was going to bring upon the ultimate hope. And you got in my way, Hinata-kun. Isn’t that so inconsiderate of you?”
“Inconsiderate?! What even the—?!”
There was a loud, resounding thud as the back of Komaeda’s skull cracked from Hinata shoving him into the wall. And somehow, that sound had Hinata cutting himself off immediately, his grip loosening as Komaeda’s eyes fluttered open and shut blearily, dizzily from the impact.
After a moment of Hinata still with shock at himself, Komaeda finally groaned, whining.
“T-That... That really hurt, Hinata-kun....!”
Hinata yanked himself back, heart thumping hard against his ribcage, hands trembling as he clenched them into tight, painful fists.
“S... Sorry... S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“If you were any rougher, I could have gotten a concussion. I could have died,” Komaeda pauses while gingerly rubbing the back of his head, and his gaze flickers upwards to meet widened hazels. “Is that what you were planning? Were you going to have everyone think I died from these other injuries?”
“NO!” Hinata shouted, and then quieted. “N-No... No, it was just an accident... I’m sorry, I just... I’m not...”
I’m not really that kind of person, right?! I wouldn’t do that—right? But all this time, I thought I had a talent when in reality...
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Komaeda scoffed. “I wouldn’t let myself get murdered by a mere reserve student. I was just in the middle of telling you that plan wouldn’t have worked.”
“Let... Let’s not talk about this...” Hinata says, swallowing, and then remembering. “The traitor. You said you were going to expose the traitor. Who was it?”
Komaeda’s mouth shut.
“You did all that bomb scare nonsense to lure out whoever the traitor was—and according to the others, you left a message saying that...” Shaking his head, Hinata pushed forward. “Who are they? Who the hell have you been doing all this for? Were they the reason I found you like...?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Komaeda finally answered. “It doesn’t matter at all, Hinata-kun.”
“The HELL it doesn’t!” Hinata exclaimed incredulously.
“It doesn’t.” Komaeda didn’t even blink. “It really, really doesn’t.”
“Komaeda,” Hinata hisses. “I don’t care if it does—I demand to know.”
“Because it’s the demands of a reserve course student matter to me now?” Komaeda asks, narrowing his eyes into something sharp. “You don’t even deserve to lick dirt off my shoe, Hinata-kun.”
“Screw you—I TRIED to understand you, I really did!” Hinata yelled, voice rising higher and higher. “I listened to you—I put up with you for hours! I didn’t have to! I didn’t even want to!”
Komaeda gave him a look that made him flinch. Still, he refused to back down.
“That was your choice,” Komaeda simply said with a shake of his head. “In no way did I ask for it.”
“Except you did,” Hinata hissed. “Don’t lie to me so shamelessly, you asshole. I remember you asking me to listen to you. Which I did up until the point you proved it was all just a waste of my time.”
“Ooh, you really believe that’s what happened? Goodness, Hinata-kun, I can’t believe I had it so wrong!” The saccharine of his tone just oozed with sarcasm. Komaeda’s sugary sweet smile soon dropped, now cold and unimpressed. “Even if that were remotely accurate to what happened, you still shouldn’t expect repayment for your wasted time. That’s disgustingly conceited and entitled.”
“I’m not asking for repayment!” Hinata exclaimed, furious. “I just want some DAMN answers!”
“Why?” Komaeda asks, and then demands, “Why?! Why does it even matter to you?! Hinata-kun, I already said—!”
“You said you were sure I had an amazing talent,” Hinata said, cutting him off. “You said you’d sacrifice yourself for everyone else. You said you didn’t want to die without someone loving you. And guess what, Komaeda?” His tone dropped into something severely low, and bitterly cold. “All of that—you took back. So forgive me if I don’t give much thought to the bullshit you’ve already said.”
It’s maybe the third time he’s seen Komaeda at a loss for words. It’s probably the second time that Komaeda’s sincerely been at a loss of words. With the way Komaeda stares back at him, stricken, wide-eyed and mouth ajar with shock before opening and closing uselessly—Hinata finds he doesn’t doubt this face at all.
And, despite everything, that makes guilt gnaw at him. And how stupid is that? He didn’t say anything wrong, right? It’s Komaeda’s fault for being such a liar, isn’t it? Komaeda’s always trying to trick everyone—he needs to be put in his place.
...what place is that?
Hinata’s shoulders slump as he lets out a heavy, heavy sigh.
“I just...” He says, the words dragging out before he sighs again. “I just don’t understand any of this. Even compared to what you’ve already done—this whole thing just... It’s completely insane.”
Komaeda’s mouth firmly shuts. But his lips are trembling. His eyes are even glimmering. Hinata immediately perks up with surprise.
He looks like he wants to cry.
That can’t be right.
“I... I just want some explanation for all this. There has to be a reason for it. Please...” When did he start pleading? “Komaeda, was the information in that handbook you found really just about me?”
Komaeda blinks at him, giving no other visible reaction. He doesn’t look close to tears anymore, but Hinata wasn’t sure if that was an improvement. Komaeda just stares and stares like the words didn’t even register until,
“What do you think, Hinata-kun?”
“I think—no, I’m sure you lied about that.” He’s absolutely positive now. And suddenly, vague pieces are clicking into place even if he’s sure he has nowhere near the whole picture. “There was more information in there than just my profile. There’s... There’s stuff in there about everyone, isn’t there?”
Komaeda doesn’t answer. He presses.
“It’s not just me you got irritable with after you read that thing. It was with everyone. You—you got so cruel,” Hinata trembles a bit, and asks, “What about us did you learn to make you act like that towards us? What did we do?”
“Oh, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda says, with dull interest. “You’re getting pale. Are you alright?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
Komaeda avoids his stare. Instead, he asks, quietly, “Were you like this when Nanami-san found you by the Final Dead Room?”
“I—!” Realization immediately smacked him hard in the face, and his eyes went from wide to sharply narrowed in suspicion. “How the hell do you know about that?”
“Lucky guess!” Komaeda chirps with so much cheer that Hinata wanted to punch his face in. Again, there was that innocent smile on his lips—and again, Komaeda’s lashes lowered over a soft, disingenuous gaze. “I’m glad the two of you had that moment.”
“That—! That has nothing to do with anything right now!” Hinata practically shouted.
“And this interrogation of yours is getting increasingly meaningless, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda said easily, still so insufferably calmly. “So, I figure, if you’re going to waste my time...”
“Then what the hell was up with that torture scene?!” Hinata demanded impatiently. “Did you really do all that shit on your own?!”
“If I just say yes, will you drop the matter?” Komaeda asks, almost childishly.
“Why would you do something like that to yourself?!”
“As a form of self-flagellation, maybe?” Komaeda says it like he’s guessing. “Or purification? I could’ve been trying to exorcise a demon. It just got a little messy.”
“With your blood?!”
“Was it my blood?”
“It was definitely your blood!”
“Are you sure?”
“What else could it have been?!”
“Hmm...”
“Komaeda, you’re not taking this seriously!”
“Nope.” Komaeda’s wide, bright smile was absolutely shameless. “And you shouldn’t either. Do you want to know why?”
Hinata, helplessly flustered and frustrated to the point of tears, could only humor him. “Why?”
“Because I did in fact plan everything. Everything that happened, from the fake bomb scare to the state you found me in—it was all part of my plan. And you know what else?” Komaeda didn’t even wait for his response, and instead shrieked, “My plan failed! It failed spectacularly and horrendously and there’s no recovering from it! I failed, Hinata-kun, I failed at everything I wanted to accomplish because of you! You, Hinata Hajime—you ruined EVERYTHING!!”
Hinata actually did flinch back.
“You ruined everything,” Komaeda repeated, breathlessly like almost he couldn’t believe it while the darkness in his eyes swirled and swirled into something tumultuous. “You ruined everything, Hinata-kun—you truly are the Ultimate Despair...”
“All I did was save you,” Hinata heard himself replying, and he sounded weak and pitiful. “What even the hell? You’re accusing me of causing despair from something like that? You wanted to die that badly? You wanted to die like that? If you really feel that way... If you really, truly felt that way...”
“Hi...” Komaeda blinks, irises still unsettled but also blank and dazed. Hinata saw his own hands reach for him—“Hinata-kun...?”
His thumbs barely brush against the tender pulse in his throat. Hinata feels just how thin that neck is as his finger wrap around it. He remembers Owari’s grip—and he sees that there are still bruises on the pale skin here. Owari’s fingers were—just a little thicker than his own...
“Hinata-kun...” Komaeda seems completely calm now. His voice doesn’t even shake, and he meets his stare evenly, defiantly. “Hinata-kun.”
Hinata’s completely still. He doesn’t squeeze, and he doesn’t pull away. It’s like he’s gone completely frozen and his brain just...stopped.
“Hinata-kun, I’ll scream,” Komaeda says, hissing with promise.
Hinata yanks himself away with a strangled gasp, his heel just slipping underneath him and making him crash harshly onto his back against cold, hard tiles.
It hurts.
He’s shaking all over. It hurts.
His breathing is rushed and harsh but it feels like he’s the one choking. It hurts.
His vision blurs—it hurts.
Everything seems to be shutting down—it hurts!
He’s panicking. He only barely hears Komaeda’s dull, uninterested drone overhead.
“Oh, Hinata-kun’s having an attack.”
It hurts. Hinata’s struggling to scream.
“Hinata-kun, your face is turning purple.”
His face is damp with tears and sweat, and his nails are scraping and scrambling against tiles as he tries and fails to push himself up. It hurts. Help.
“Hinata-kun.”
Help.
“Hinata-kun.”
Please help.
“Hinata-kun...”
PLEASE HELP ME!!!
“Hinata-kun.” A cold, almost skeletal hand closes around his from where it’s fruitlessly reaching. It squeezes, and with a choked-up sob, Hinata squeezes back. “Breathe.”
It’s difficult. It’s difficult, but he manages.
“In and out, Hinata-kun. It’ll be troubling if you suffocate now and I get blamed for it, you know?”
Hinata breathes. He nearly chokes.
“How careless and selfish can you be, I wonder? Reserve course students shouldn’t be this troubling. You really are a disappointment.”
Hinata nearly tightens his grip on that hand—but he takes in another breath, and he breathes. In, and out, in, and out, in—
“Ah, Hinata-kun, you’re really starting to hurt me. Do you want me to be with two bad hands? How heartless of you. You’re really...”
“Shut...!” Hinata gasps, swallows, and then pulls himself up. His vision spins for a minute but he shakes his head, and he musters up a tearful glare at Komaeda’s straight-lipped, unimpressed face. “Just shut the hell up, Komaeda.”
Komaeda is, of course, unmoved. “Do you still need my hand, Hinata-kun? Because I need it, too.”
Hinata releases him with a scowl. He yanks his own hand back as though it’d been burned, and it was tingling. He rubbed at it, and groans.
(He wouldn’t admit this now or ever, but before he let him go, there was a solid few seconds where he hesitated. Where he hadn’t wanted to let go—and even the part of him that would’ve acknowledged that, would’ve been quick to wave it away with a case of fear. He only ever approached Komaeda due to fear once he learned the truth. That’s all there was to it. Right? Right.)
“I’m really not going to get anything out of you, am I?” Hinata asks, low and almost despondent. “I’m...just wasting my time.”
“He does learn!” Komaeda exclaims with awe and mock-surprise, hands pressed together “Oh, Hinata-kun, you finally understand! After how long?”
Hinata glowered, but it soon faltered as his gaze fell to Komaeda’s hands—to all the bandages wrapped around his right. When his gaze lowered even more, he almost let out a hiss at realizing that the way Komaeda was sitting caused the robe to ride up, exposing his bandaged thighs. He can’t begin to imagine how wretched the scars would be.
That is, if Komaeda survived that much longer. That is, if Komaeda didn’t try something like this again and succeed.
How can you smile like that when like this? If—if this is really your own doing... Then...why? Why would you want to die like this? If the spear hadn’t gotten stuck, you would’ve been impaled, too, and there’s no way you would’ve survived—
“...Komaeda... Does it hurt?”
“Your grip had been rather tight, but it’s fine now,” Komaeda says, and he smiles. “No worries.”
“That’s...” Hinata hesitated. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?” Komaeda asks with a tilt of his head. Hinata’s stare drops—or it would have, had his eyes not gotten caught on all the tubes taped to those long, skinny arms. He swallows, but Komaeda goes on without a care. “What is it you meant, Hinata-kun?”
“Those injuries...” he mumbled. “Do they still hurt? I... It looked really bad when I found you... Most people would’ve died from blood loss, but you...”
You really inflicted all that on yourself...?
“It’s not as agonizing as before—but maybe that’s the pain medication, or maybe that part of my brain shut down. I’m not sure!” Komaeda’s so cheerful as he exclaims that. “It doesn’t matter—they’re not going to kill me, after all.”
“They could have...” Hinata swallowed. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did... You could’ve...”
“That doesn’t matter,” Komaeda said simply. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
Despite the brightness of the smile, despite the wideness of that grin—there was no doubting the stony resentment underlying those words.
Still...
“Yeah,” Hinata just agreed with a cold, cold nod. “Yeah, you are. Thank god.”
--
He ends up leaving without another word. He had his answers—not enough of them, but he had some. Honestly that was more than he even expected.
He feels exhausted. So beyond exhausted, but he has to keep guard.
“Hinata-kun...? Uu...”
He’s really not in the mood so he just ignores Monomi and her pitiful stare.
“U... Um...” She hiccups. “It must have been awful...so, so awful... But thank goodness the two of you survived... I’m so glad...”
“No thanks to you,” he huffed. She flinched. “It’s because of you that we’re on this damn island in the first place. Hell, it’s because of you that we don’t remember and what we don’t remember is what...”
...what Komaeda’s so angry about...what could that possibly be? What did he find out?
He has half a mind to go break into Komaeda’s cottage for more clues, but when he thinks about how Komaeda looked ready to cry, he feels almost disgustingly ashamed with himself.
Even though it’s that guy—even though he did all of this... Even though there’s no way someone like him would ever care...
Except. Komaeda had let him hold his hand. Komaeda told him to breathe. Even if it was just to avoid the trouble, he did that, too.
He was the first one to offer him a hand, but also the one who started the killings. He helped them during the trials, but he needlessly confused and aggravated them, too. He had smiled at him so openly, so innocently—and he had looked down upon him as if he were nothing more than filth.
Someone like that—who we all hated and thought several times over we’d be better off without—wanted to die so badly.
Just how the hell had things gone so wrong?
He wanted to cry, too.
I won’t let him die. The thought is almost fervent. I’m never going to let him die. No matter what I have to do—I won’t ever just let Komaeda die. Not until he’s answered for all he’s done. But—even then, I... I don’t...
Hinata buried his face into his knees.
“H-Hinata-kun?”
“Upupupu, such delicious despair!” He hears the bounce of Monokuma’s arrival. He hears Monokuma’s panting. “Like a siren’s call!”
“Eek! What are you doing?!” Monomi shrieked. “L... Leave him alone! Isn’t this enough?!”
“Ohhh? What’s pissed your diaper, baby sister?”
“S... Shut up!”
“Ohhhhh?”
He can’t be bothered to care about the mascots bickering. Even when he hears Monomi yelp from having her ears pulled. Monokuma terrorizes her as always and he’s just tired of all of it. The only thing that mildly concerns him is the fact that their ridiculous back and forth could wake up Komaeda.
If Komaeda was even sleeping at all.
Maybe...I should’ve waited...? Aha. Haha. What the hell, me? It’s not like Komaeda would appreciate that—he called you Ultimate Despair just for saving him.
Ultimate. Despair.
Hinata jolted up. Monokuma was still kicking Monomi, but he did get their attention.
“I remember hearing about the World Destroyers, the Future Foundation,” he finds himself rambling. “But—has there ever been anything called the Ultimate Despair?”
The crimson of Monokuma’s eye gleamed, and Monomi recoiled so violently.
“W-Why are you asking that, Hinata-kun?!”
“Yes, Hinata-kun,” Monokuma said, so cheerfully calm. “Whyever do you ask?”
Hinata opened his mouth and then he shut it.
It’s not just Komaeda’s mad ramblings... Ultimate Despair... He called me that—for a reason.
“It’s something I remembered dreaming about.” The lie tastes like nothing. “That’s all.”
“Sounds like quite the despairing nightmare, hmm?” Monokuma asks. “Goodness! They grow up so fast!”
The hell does that even mean? No. Honestly. I don’t fucking care. I have enough on my plate trying to figure out Komaeda. I know for a damn fact that Monokuma takes joy in frustrating and infuriating others.
“I-It’s just a nightmare,” Monomi whimpered. “J-Just an awful, awful nightmare...”
“Hush, Monomi!” Monokuma stomped on her harshly. “Don’t interrupt this very important conversation!”
What Komaeda said was significant—Monokuma likely knows the truth behind it... But I shouldn’t trust him to tell me anything. Not for a second.
“What’s so important about it?” he finds himself asking anyway, but he keeps up his guard.
“Weeeeeell,” Monokuma sing-songs, and that red eye gleams brightly and maliciously. So much so that it’s almost blinding. “If you really want to knoooooow, I can just tell you outriiiiiiight.”
“N-No...!” Monomi’s gasp is barely above a whisper.
Of course I know it won’t be that easy, Hinata thought dully. If it were—that would be boring.
...
...
...boring?
Hey.
Hey, hey, hey.
Where the hell—did that even come from?
He feels cold. But he wonders if that’s a trick of the mind, if he really feels anything.
“Actually.” He barely even hears himself right now. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Oh?” Monokuma tilts his head. “What’s up with that face?”
What face? I don’t feel anything.
“Hinata-kun...?” Monomi pushes herself up weakly. “U-Um... Um...?”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. Both of you exhaust me. You...”
Bore me.
“Annoy me. So I’m done.”
“Huuuuh? Hinata-kun?”
“Hi...nata-kun...?”
Hinata opens the door to Komaeda’s room, and he slams it shut so that it’s between him and them. After that, it’s quiet. He can’t hear anything, anything at all—except a soft sigh. Softer shifts.
Blinking, Hinata turns to Komaeda, sleeping after all. He looks peaceful. Serene. Even when covered in those bandages. Hinata feels his lips twist, but he’s not quite sure what they twist into.
Komaeda...you really do cause a lot of problems, don’t you? But at least you’re still here. That’s all that matters.
He strides forward, idly brushing Komaeda’s hair back, watching him sleep on. Like this, he really does look so innocent. The ivory strands are finer than they look. Funny, that.
Hinata inhales. Exhales. He feels...strange. So strange. He’s not sure if he feels like himself or not.
Things just feel—strange.
It’s late. Something’s flickering. It’s strange, it’s strange, it’s strange.
Tomorrow—we’re going to get to the bottom of everything. Tomorrow... Komaeda will still be here and he’ll help us, whether he wants to or not.
Cupping Komaeda’s face, his thumb runs over that swollen lower lip.
We’ll get out of here all together. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
That must bring you such despair. And it’s okay. It’s okay. As long as you’re still here.
Hinata kneeled down, laying his head on the bed where Komaeda slept without a care. It really was funny. Like this, the two of them matched with their bandages. They were similar.
Tomorrow... We’ll all be together. You, me, and everyone else. I’m sure of it.
With that, his eyes fell shut and the world unraveled just a little further. With Komaeda’s bandaged hand in his, he didn’t feel anything else.
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masseffecthoe · 5 years
Text
Soul Glitches
Chapter 4
< Chapter 3
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The Observation Deck was a wreck, with metal scraps and wires trailing from one end to the other. A few pads and monitors bleeped alive with colorful writings all around the L shaped couch. The only "clean" part of the room was the improvised cot in the far left corner. But there was order in the chaos of tech. Jun knew exactly where things were and each served a precise purpose. Most importantly, it made the place feel like home. The only thing amiss was one depressed looking commander staring blankly into the dark void ahead.
"Weight of the world on your shoulders again, huh?"
"Fells like it will never end. We warn them, they ignore us and then we struggle on our own to save everyone. A vicious cycle."
"I don't know, this one seems pretty final. I mean, the reapers were the end game from the start, right?" She placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder, squeezing just enough to grab her attention from the stars outside. They locked eyes and she wished she could do more to help Shepard carry that weight. "Just one more, then it's shore leave, baby! I'm thinking of visiting more of Earth." The commander smiled sheepishly at her.
"You? On Earth? Vega got to you that badly?"
"Pff no, we're just passing time." She realized the possible interpretation as soon as the words left her mouth and she paused a bit to reconsider. "Wait, that sounded wrong. We just get along, that's all. Nothing weird happening between us."
"Mhm."
"He flirts like that with everyone, I wouldn't look too much into it."
"If you say so. But it looks pretty different from the outside." What looked different? Jun was pretty sure she figured him all out: he was just a fun guy, masking his inner demons from a shitty childhood probably, with little flirts and jokes. She doubted he'd actually put any of those naughty things that came out of his mouth into practice. He was all bark and no bite and she was perfectly okay with it.
"How's Kaidan?"
"He's awake already. Might have been worse if you weren't there to take action so fast. Thank you."
"Any time, Shep. You do know I don't actually hate him, right? Damn, I've been saying this a lot lately."
"I know. I'm sure he knows it too."
"I do hope he gets over himself..."
"Jun!"
"Ok, ok, I promise to try to be nicer to him when he gets back." She put her hands up in defeat, noting the small smile playing on the commander's lips, and went to sit on the clear spot on the couch. Shepard's eyes followed her, then scanned the state of the room, brows slightly furrowed.
"You working on something?"
"Yeah, you'll see soon enough. EDI's helping me with... a pet project."
"Something for fighting?" Jun raised her head from the little circuits she was working on and looked the commander dead in the eyes.
"Well it wasn't going to, but that could actually be pretty cool." She turned to regard the pieces in front of her, a new spark in her voice. "I'd have to make it a little bigger to make room for the additional systems and reinforce the other layer. The shielding will be easy enough, so I'll figure that one last... but... yeah, that would be neat. Can't wait to test this baby out!"
"You got me a little curious. But make sure you check on that Cerberus robot soon. I want it off the ship as soon as possible."
"I'm on it." She didn't raise her head from pile of wires she was sorting out as the commander left her room. She was completely engrossed in the possibilities this new idea brought. Claws! Now that would be awesome. It wouldn't be as efficient as any of her current drones, but it would be marvelous to watch her little creation in battle. After a little fun in a test drive, it could stay on the Normandy as a little extra defense. Never repeat the situation with Joker and the Collectors again. When EDI's voice sounded above her she was almost done modifying the outer carcass.
"Jun, I was wondering if you could help me with something as well?"
"Sure, EDI. What do you need?"
"I was scanning the Cerberus unit for more Prothean data, but I can't run a full diagnostic."
"Yeah, I'll check for anything useful in a minute."
"I would be more suitable for the job as I already have all the system mapped out."
"Then... what do you need me for?"
"It would be more accurate if I had a psychical link to the unit?" Jun dropped the little laser she was using and looked at the ceiling as if the AI would be pocking though it.
"You want me to plug an unsafe Cerberus unit to your main core?"
"Yes. I have located an appropriate cable in the Shuttle bay."
"That's a bad idea EDI, even for my standards."
"If I had any doubt of failure I wouldn't have asked." There was the briefest of pauses, not giving Jun the occasion to shut her down again. "Plus, as you said before, you 'owe me one'."
"Shepard will never allow it..."
"It will be our little secret."
"You're getting cheekier by the minute, girl! Hot damn!" Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought about the outcomes. "I can't believe I'm actually considering this... But, I will run some diagnostics first, see how dangerous that thing can still be, okay?"
"If it will help ease your mind."
With a final look at the piece she had been working on and a long sigh, Jun made her way to the Shuttle Bay. The elevator ride there was long, her mind filled with questions about what they were about to do. One one hand EDI was right, she'd be faster and more thorough in her search, but on the other hand they were sort of going behind Shepard's back, though not doing anything particularly nefarious. She was hoping the commander would never know the full scope of their little rebellion, but when did she ever get what she wanted?
The double doors hissed open and she casually stepped into the shuttle bay. She'd never spend much time down there and was unsure where they kept spare parts and all that jazz. But as she rounded the corner she was met with a sight she did not expect: James Vega doing pull ups. And what a sight it was! With his back towards her, she could ogle him without shame, glorious muscles going taunt every time he lifted himself. The expanse of his back, even through the sweat ridden t-shirt, was just calling for her to run her greedy little fingers on. She found herself wishing what the commander said was true, and he did act differently around her, flirted just a bit more, with just a hint of seriousness to his words. Or maybe his eyes would linger on her a second more they did on others.
"Quite the view, isn't it?" Jun's spirit almost left her body, both from surprise and shame for being caught drooling all over the lieutenant. She was happy the man spoke loud enough for just her to hear.
"Umm, well, like I told him, I've seen better."
"Oh, that must have hurt, but I guess his ego didn't need to grow any bigger." The man looked fondly towards the lieutenant and Jun got the impression they were close, the kind that taunted each other a lot. He turned towards her shortly after, hand outstretched. "Steve Cortez, I'm the new shuttle pilot."
"Oooh that's great, no one should suffer through Vega's piloting skills ever again. Jun Saros." She shook his hand energetically, genuinely happy they now had an actual pilot for the damn shuttle. Besides Joker, there was no one on the blasted ship who could drive anything, her stomach would still turn when someone even mentioned the Mako.
"So you're Jun."
"You've heard of me?"
"A little bit." A smirk plaid on his lips as he gestured towards the still busy lieutenant. It took Jun every ounce of self control and dignity not to turn her focus back on his work out. "But Saros... why does that sound familiar?" She felt like she might have paled a few shades, but if her discomfort showed, Cortez said nothing about it and before she could change the subject he remembered, his eyes widening the second he made the connection. "Were you on Torfan?"
"Um, well... yes..."
"Impressive. I'm glad too see you're up and kicking."
"It's been, a long journey, but um, thanks." She wished, for a brief moment, that she could just teleport back to her little tech cluttered room and bury herself in research and possibly never speak to any living being again. She knew she didn't really want that and one day she'll have to get over it and talk about... Hell, it might even help to actually talk abut it. But that day was not the day and thankfully the Cortez guy was empathic enough to see she was dying on the inside and changed the subject.
"You were looking for something down here? Maybe I can help."
"Yes actually, I need a Y72 cable."
"Ah yes, I've seen it a few days ago. I'll get it for you." She watched him go deeper into the bay, behind the shuttle. She was waiting, a little impatient to get out of there, when she noticed the little white robot dog running around the room. Now that was interesting. She got just a little closer and crouched in it's path. It came closer, before making a small turn as if to avoid her, but she was faster. She made fast work, opening the small panel on it's back and examining the infrastructure. It had an odd choice of head and no functional mouth. Weren't dogs supposed to fetch things? And with no fur, petting it or "rubbing its belly" seemed pointless, even if may have been programmed to act like it enjoined the action.
"I don't think that's the way to play with it." How was he so silent on his feet when he was so damn bulky? She lifted her gaze and almost swore under her breath. James was, well, hot and it was affecting her a little more than she cared for. Maybe it had been all the commander's fault, putting ideas in her head. Or maybe it had been there all along, but whatever the case, it was not good.
"I was just curious what makes it tick. And also what's its purpose..."
"Yeah, this one's a little weird, but he grows on you." When she close the panel, the dog came back "to life" and made a few circles around James. It was probably designed just as a companion to show affection, maybe for a small child even, but the lieutenant was right, the more you starred at it the cutter it got.
"Well he seems to like you, Vega."
"It's because I spend a lot of time down here. Not a lot of people come this far except when we leave for missions." He scratch the back of his neck, thick, strong neck... Get it together, Saros! "Speaking of which, why are you here? Missed me already, cariño?"
"She was actually here for this." She ignored the question altogether and took the cable from Cortez, thanking to the stars he came when he did, for she might have actually said something positively retarded.
"Thank you. And it was nice meeting you. I look forward to next mission now that Vega isn't in the pilot's seat."
"Oh come on, we all got there and back in one piece."
"If it could, the poor shuttle would argue with that." She poked her tongue out, already backing away towards the elevator. "I've got to go finish something, see you guys around."
James waved her goodbye, eyes never leaving her until the elevator doors closed behind her. He wanted to ask if she needed help with anything, but he doubted he could actually understand anything of what she'd be working on. Nevertheless, he was weirdly interested in her passion for tech. His smile dropped a bit when he noticed Cortez' worried look.
"What?"
"You have no idea who she is, do you?"
"What are you getting at, jefe?"
"She was on Torfan. Their ship had been badly hit, they were abandoning it, but she went back alone and crashed the entire thing in an enemy dreadnought. She saved her entire team that day." It took James a few moments to process the information, mostly because it seemed surreal: Jun, sweet and fun Jun, piloting a burning ship into another. Steve saw the questioning look in his friend's eyes and continued. "I don't know the full story, they kept it pretty quiet for some reason. All I remember was that she was badly injured and they graduate her early from N7 for her service."
The first thing James thought about was how distraught she had been when he crashed the shuttle, how fast she hid her face, knees giving in under her and her voice cracking up. He felt like a jackass, especially with the comment he'd made. How was she still talking to him? He was beyond curious to find out more about about her accident and why she never mentioned she was N7. Most wore it like a sign on pride, but Jun didn't once talk about it. If anything, she avoided any topic slightly relating her time in with the Alliance before Shepard's suicide mission. He was sure the commander knew everything, but it didn't seem fair to pry. Even the bits of information Steve had told him felt like an invasion in her personal life she hadn't wanted to be known. He was sure curiosity would take the best of him sooner or later, though. He might at least apologize and ask Jun herself. Soon.
Back in the AI core, Jun was having a different dilemma. She had ran all the diagnostics she could think of, and a few suggested by EDI despite the cheeky AI probably already having done them. EDI had been patient with her, only cracking a few jokes about the speed process, but otherwise not pestering Jun to plug the robot to her main terminal. She had been staring at the still form of the robot a good fifteen minutes, having ran out of precautions she could take, but not yet ready to take a plunge.
"I'm going to regret this..."
"There is no scenario where we fail, the probability of success-"
"There's always one more variable we didn't account for, one more surprise factor we didn't notice..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, fatigue settling in. After this, a hot shower and sleep until they reached Palavan. "Alas, here we go. Anything goes wrong, you back out of there and tell me to unplug this thing." With her onmi-tool on hand in case the worst came to pass, Jun hooked one end of the cable in Dr. Eva's back, the other in EDI's terminal.
What followed were a few seconds straight out of those old "man vs machine" movies. The robot's eyes opened, a few moments of disorientation, before fixing on Jun. She barely had enough time to duck and evade the first shot. Cloaking her self, she wanted to move from her current position, thinking she could sneak behind her and unplug. She didn't get far before one of the shots ignited a fire and the extinguishers turned on, blocking her vision. The whole ordeal must have lasted less than half a minute, but the stress certainly took one year out of Jun's life. The panel above the console had gone dark, was EDI alright? Was the ship alright? Joker had probably freaked out and already alerted Shepard who was going to barge through the door in any second!
"Jun, are you alright?"
"EDI?" She peaked from behind her hiding spot, the air clearing enough to see the robot lady, thankfully not shooting at her anymore.
"Yes, I have taken control of this unit." It was said so matter-of-factly that Jun wondered if that had been the AI's plan all along. Shepard's voice rang loudly from the other side of the door, but she just sank back on the ground, headache drumming at her temples.
"This is going to be a fun one to explain."
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Lost Words (Chapter 3)
Link to previous chapters: Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Click on the Masterlist to see if any future chapters have been published already.
Note: I want to say a quick thanks to everyone who has been reading my Sinclaire series. It’s my first fanfiction, and I’ve been so shocked by this reaction. Thank you very much! 
Book: Desire and Decorum
Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC
A/N: MC shows up on Ernest’s doorstep on a rainy day. What do they have to say to each other after their argument in the garden? 
Warnings: Will explore both Ernest and MC’s feelings of grief, especially regarding the death of family members/betrayal of a spouse. By the way Sinclaire’s feelings regarding his wife and his family background have yet to be revealed in DD at the time of writing, so some things might not follow the book exactly. 
Tag list: @brightpinkpeppercorn @princesstopgun @mind-reader1 @lynn1214@xo-endlessmayhem-xo @bennycumberbuns @bruhvs @danyfreshh @cocomaxley @youngbloodbound @sweetfluffyunicorn18 @tinygooplandroad@marywitchjane @shelivesinthewoods @flyawayblue56 @lizeboredom @laniquelovely @blackwidow2721 @katurrade  @juliazigortega @mspaigemoore @kate-omalleys @meiyoko-trash @self-destructive-bitch @pepitapepi (I could not tag two people, not sure why?) 
Word Count: 1400 words 
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Last time on Lost Words.....
Making a small gasp, Claire was stunned by his appearance. His messy hair had been tousled across his head. He was not wearing a jacket, or even a tie. The dress shirt he usually wore had been buttoned halfway down, baring half of his naked chest. His eyes were red and swollen, the area under his eyes still slightly wet. Had he been crying? She thought to herself.
Cutting her mid thought, Ernest grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into the house.
“What were you thinking?” Ernest questioned, his voice tinged with both concern and disbelief. What could she possibly have to say to me now? So urgent that she must come in the rain? 
“I-I...wanted to talk to you.” This time, it was Claire’s turn to stammer nervously. She had never seen him so upset, disheveled, and....vulnerable. Is this about me?...........What I have done to him? A pang of guilt hit her chest. 
Without replying, he threw his jacket around her shoulders and started pushing her down the corridor, leading her to his study. Although Claire was still cold, being with Ernest made her feel warmer already. Sitting her down on a rocking chair, he knelt beside the fireplace to start a fire. 
The glow from the fire illuminated his skin. Claire watched as the flickering flames danced across his bare chest, a slow blush creeping onto her face. Kneeling next to the fire, staring down at his hands while they worked, she could now see him much clearer. Dark circles formed under eyes that stared blankly. Chapped lips, the faint smell of strong liquor between them. Curly hair tousled in all directions. His knuckles were bruised purple, perhaps from punching something. He looks so hurt. She thought to herself. But at the same time....why does he look so handsome? 
Looking up from the fire, their eyes briefly met each other’s, before shifting away. The tension between them was nervous. Claire had never actually seen a man cry before, let alone Ernest Sinclaire. 
“I’m sorry. I probably look like a snivelling fool right now, and it’s not proper.....” Ernest mumbled, interrupting the silence. 
“Don’t apologize. After the way I spoke to you in the garden......I can imagine why you would be angry at me.” 
Ernest chuckled bitterly at her apology. Standing up to sit in the chair next to hers, he whispered “Oh, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.” 
“What for?” 
He closed his eyes tightly, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling. “It’s been really rough for me since my wife left me. And her death during childbirth.” 
Taken aback by his surprise admission of weakness, she glanced at him. “I knew that your wife left you.....but I never could have guessed exactly how devastating it was.” 
“Yes.....” he whispered, deep in thought. “Hold on. Let me get you a drink.” 
Brown liquor splashed elegantly into the cup. He held it towards her, the purple colour of his bruised knuckles faintly glimmering under the fire light. As she accepted the drink her fingers reached out and brushed the bruises, making him blush from both shame and affection. Dropping his arm, he held both his hands nervously in front of them in a poor attempt to hide them. 
“What happened to your knuckles?” she whispered, looking at him in the eye. 
“Ah.” He was hoping she wouldn’t ask. “Oh, that....I need something to take out my anger on sometimes.” He did not meet her eyes in return. 
“I wonder what the poor guy did to you.” she chuckled, motioning towards the sparring dummy sitting in the corner of the room. “He looks pretty roughed up.” 
For the first time since she came in, he smiled back at her, eyes shimmering with affection. Sitting back down, he took slow slips from his drink. 
“You know, it was rough for me too after my mother passed. I had no other family left, it had always just been the two of us. So now that she had gone....I felt so sad and alone.” 
“Losing a parent is never easy.” He shook his head, heart filled with empathy. “My mother passed when I was much younger, and my father passed 10 years ago.” 
“Wow. 10 years is a long time to be alone......and here I am, complaining about loneliness after a few weeks.” Claire said quietly. 
“No....” Ernest shook his head, clearly not finished yet. “I had my wife with me, at first....or so I thought. But she left.” Ernest closed his eyes again, brows knitted together in pain, head tilted towards the ceiling. Claire nodded encouragingly, motioning him to continue along. 
“She had not only left our relationship, but she had betrayed the very foundation of it. I was devastated when I found out. She had been my only source of comfort since I lost my father. We sat together, just like this, every night. Just accompanying each other. Watching the flames in the fireplace flicker back and forth.” 
“Just like us right now?” 
“.......Yes. Just like us.” 
Silence filled the room, but it was not the awkward sort. It was the kind of silence that could only happen between two aching souls that understood each other. 
“But then she had to go drop off the face of the earth altogether. Carrying a child with her as well.” Ernest now leant forward, putting his face in his hands. 
Claire shook her head, heart filled with ache and empathy for Ernest’s pain. “To lose another loved one like that......” she whispered. “It must be hard to ever forget.” 
“I won’t ever forget it. The day I found out. The events of the day are blurry in my memory, but the grief I felt......I still remember very clearly. It was like I was walking around in a trance. The only thing I actually remember doing was leaning against that very door -” Ernest pointed at the door to his study. 
“- and bawling my eyes out.” He sighed heavily. 
“........I’ve been in deep grief too. I watched my mother die in her bed. There was so much I had left unsaid. I never got to thank her - for all those years of loving me. She was gone in an instant. We had hardly spent enough time together when fate whisked her away......I couldn’t even say goodbye.” Claire gushed. 
Lifting his head out of his hands, he turned around to look at her. 
“And now that she’s gone forever, I’ll never get the chance.” A tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes fell to the floor. 
Leaning over, Ernest stretched out his hand, wiping her tear away with his thumb, before finishing his stroke at the bottom of her face, lifting up her chin to look at him. 
“You’re beautiful even when you cry”. He whispered to her. His hand now cupped her face. They were so close that their noses almost touched. 
She lifted her hand to hold his. Their hands rested on her cheek. They stayed in this position, just for a few moments. 
“Why do you shut me out?” She murmured. 
Now pulling away from her face, he knelt on one knee in front of her chair. He took her other hand in his. Bowing his head, his eyes again dropped to the floor. 
“It was my own fault that my wife left me.” He muttered, in a voice that was thick, hoarse and full of pain. “I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Hell, I didn’t even know what she wanted. She may have betrayed my trust, but when I failed to be a good husband, I had betrayed her trust first.” 
Ernest looked like he was about to collapse. His upper body was leaning onto the arm of the rocking chair to stop himself from falling into a heap on the floor in front of Claire. “I don’t blame anyone. I did this to me.” He continued, eyes staring motionlessly at the floor, as if he were only talking to himself. 
“Is that why-...”
“Yes.” He answered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be a good husband. One failed marriage already proved that for everyone to see.” The throbbing pain in his throat grew larger and larger as he spoke. 
“You deserve a good man, Claire. I just don’t think that’s me.” His voice quivered with emotion. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he started to stand up. 
“But what if I think he is you?” Suddenly, with determination, Claire grabbed his wrist. Just like she had done the day before in the park. She yanked him down, and instinctively, he fell into the kneeling position he had been in before. 
Looking at her with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, emotions of surprise and anticipation played across his facial features. She took in his appearance. Now only an inch away from her, she could see the iris of his eyes were the same blend of blue as the forget-me-not flowers that he had planted in his garden. Although his hair was tousled, it gave the impression that he cared little for outer appearances. 
His lips were slightly chapped on the outer edges, but in colour they were a beautiful burgundy, and when he breathed, she could smell the desperation and longing that he had been consuming. 
Eyes glistening with desire, she grabbed his collar, pulled him in, and pressed her lips against his. 
Note: Yes, I finally made them DO it! Excited for the next chapter? Saucy things are coming. As per usual, let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters. Also, if you enjoyed this fanfiction, tell me which parts you liked the most! (It helps with my writing/brainstorming process.) 
183 notes · View notes
jinterlude · 6 years
Text
Fight for Me (Ch.3)
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↳Story Header © @softjeon (do not steal this header!)
➵ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female OC (feat. Kwon Ji Yong)
➵ Genre(s): Historic!AU, Medieval!AU , Royalty!AU, Knight!AU, Romance, SMUT, Humor, & Angst
➵ SMUT Warning(s): Female Masturbation
➵ Words: 4.7K
➵ Summary: Once upon a time, there was a not-so-traditional kingdom. In that kingdom, the royal family had the freedom of marrying whoever his or her royal highness deems worthy. Now, of course, having that special privilege came with some interesting challenges, but that doesn’t stop a certain head-strong princess from doing whatever her heart’s desire, especially when she has her heart set on marrying her personal bodyguard. Unfortunately, her beliefs might face some hardships when a certain king sets his eye on her. Will her bodyguard continue to fight for her or is it finally her turn?
※ Previously: ch.1 | ch.2
※ Next Time: ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | final chapter
Chapter 3: So Much for Waiting
Previously
           “How long does King Ji Yong plan to stay with us?” Sumin asked softly as Seokjin uttered nothing but loving words in her ear, hoping to ease her worries.
           “However long it will take for you to agree to be his wife.” Her other responded, feeling her own break for her daughter.
Sumin frowned as she buried her face in Seokjin’s chest, hating the idea of marrying someone else that was not her knight.
Seokjin, on the other hand, was fuming on the inside. He was not happy whatsoever with some random king marrying his princess. They were childhood friends. They were blooming lovers. They had history. No one could ever come close to Sumin for him. She was it. Now? He knew that he must do something and quick. He and Sumin had talked about waiting a few more years and was only granted that request earlier in the day. This was all wrong.
           “My majesties, may I request that the princess and I relinquish our wish to wed in a few years’ time?”
           “May I ask why?”
           “I want to marry the princess Sumin as soon as possible.”
An unspeakable emotion rose to the air as three members of the royal family merely stared at the young knight. Confused etched on their faces. What was he thinking? Was it not just earlier he managed to convince Sumin to want to wait? What has changed his mind?
Sumin placed a warm hand on the top of his hand, lightly caressing the back of it as she eyed him with concern.
           “Seokjin, was it not your intention to wait until we are much older?” She asked; her voice hitching midsentence.
Seokjin’s eyes locked onto hers, “It was, but due to recent events, I would like us to wed as soon as possible.”
Sumin’s gaze hardened as she searched his eyes for any indication that he was simply joking. The second she realized he was serious, her heart skipped a beat and not in a good way― and Seokjin picked up on her hesitation.
He gently grasped her hands and held it close to his lips. His gaze peered into hers as he looked at her with complete and utter love. He left feathery kisses on her knuckles as Sumin’s breathing grew heavy and uneven.
           “My love...please do me the honor of becoming my wife.” Seokjin whispered, earning tiny gasps from her parents.
Her parents eyed their daughter eagerly, hoping that she would say yes. However, her response surprised not only them, but Seokjin as well.
Sumin bowed her head, avoiding his saddened gaze, “My apologies, my love, but in my own good conscious, I simply cannot agree upon your request. You managed to talk some sense into me this morning, so I am going to return the favor.” She mustered enough courage to look at him now. “You do not want to wed me, right now. I have known you since we were yay high, and you are only saying that out of envy.” Her hand cupped his cheek. “Now, do you trust me?” She asked.
Seokjin sighed, “You know I do. With all my heart.”
           “Then, trust me when I say this to you, my dear knight, is that I am going to do everything in my power to persuade this king that I am not the one he should be making his wife.” Sumin said as an alluring yet devious smirk graced her innocent lips.
Both her parents lightly chuckled at her witty remark.
           “You truly are your father’s daughter.” The queen said, graciously walking over to Sumin and placing a light kiss on her head.
The king nodded, “That she is. Now, let us retire for the night as it has suddenly dawned on me that King Ji Yong would like to join us for breakfast, and I believe he wants to take out for the day. Something about gracing our people with his enticing presence.”
Sumin couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She could not believe that such an arrogant king had bestowed his eyes on her and proposed a royal union so quickly. She politely curtsied before approaching her parents to bid them a fond goodnight. She kissed both their cheeks before turning away to leave their sights.
Just as Seokjin was about to walk after her, he heard her father say something.
           “Yes, your majesty?” He asked, wondering what Sumin’s father could want.
           “I would be cautious of his royal majesty, King Ji Yong, Sir Seokjin. He is not like any other kings I have met throughout my lifetime. There has been gossip about him in regard to him taking a keen interest in something or in this case, someone. Please, do not allow my daughter to marry someone against her will. I beg of you.” The king pleaded; his voice hitching slightly as he tried his best to hold back the worry and sadness he had built up towards his daughter.
Seokjin stared him as his heart began to pound. He swallowed his saliva before nodding his head slowly.
           “Yes, your majesty. I will make sure as Sumin’s knight that the royal family’s traditions are intact. I will make sure that she weds someone for love and not because of her diplomatic duty to yours and someone else’s kingdom.” His eyes then trailed to her parents, determination dripping in his eyes. “I swear to you on my honor as a knight of this kingdom.” He firmly said.
Both the queen and king smiled, feeling a little at ease knowing that Sumin fell in love with an overall amazing person.
           “Thank you, kind knight. You may go now.” The king happily dismissed him.
The royal parents watched the determined knight jog after his princess before turning to one another; their breaths slightly uneven.
           “My lord, do you think that those two will be wed in due time?”
           “I will pray to the Holy Father every night to make sure that happens…every night.”
The fading sound of the crickets disappeared into the night as the sound of happy chirps took its place. Birds flew by pairs over the castle roofs, greeting anything and everything in their paths. The soft wind blew across the stone paths, picking up any dust and particle in its way, as it traveled towards the other side of the castle grounds.
Sounds of rushing footsteps and loud demands echoed throughout the hallways as it was a rare for the kingdom to have a long staying guest. That sparked high interest throughout their busy minds as it showed them that an expecting betrothal announcement was heading their way.
On the opposite side of the busy castle, laid a princess as she stared blankly at the ceiling. The skinny streaks of sunlight penetrating her curtains as Sumin remained deep in thought. Having little to no sleep last night, Sumin groaned as it was proven futile to try and gain more shut eye. Instead, she took the opportunity to recollect the events of her birthday celebration. Her mind picked up bits and pieces of the wonderful event. She drank her first chalice of sweet wine. She indulged in delectable sweets. She danced with stuck up princes. Then… just then, her mind focused on a certain event that had her mouth ajar and a bit dry. Her secret meeting with Seokjin in an abandoned part of the castle. God, that moment was so fresh in her mind that she could honestly feel his fingers grazing her skin. She could feel his hot breath against her soft skin just before his teeth made contact. God… just thinking about it was making her hot and bothered.
Without her fully knowing, she found herself tilting her head, exposing the side of her neck as she imagined Seokjin’s lips sucking and kissing patches of unmarked skin. A soft moan escaped her lips as her intelligent brain made that imagination seem real. Sumin could swear she felt his teeth grazing her soft skin while his hands firmly massaged her breasts. Her buds grew erect as her arousal started to become more and more known.
Unknowingly, her hands trailed her nightgown, rushing to her core as if they were on a mission.
Pretending her fingers were Seokjin’s, Sumin slowly lifted her gown, feeling a bit of a cold breeze as she did, and lightly caressed her thigh. Her fingers danced all over her skin before finding their spot near her wet core. Her index and middle finger slowly rubbed downward, coating themselves in her juices as she slightly made contact with her throbbing bundle of nerves. She pulled her hand upwards, teasing her entrance in the process. God, she wanted something or someone to be inside of her. She wanted Seokjin.
This time a quiet whimper left her precious mouth as her thumb pressed against her clit. Apparently, pressing against that spot wasn’t enough as she decided to repeat was Seokjin did to her that sinful night. She started off nice and slow, circling her index finger as her middle finger continued to tease her soaking wet entrance. She bit her bottom lip as the pleasure began to build up in the pit of her stomach.
           “Seokjin…” She faintly moaned as she continued to imagine her loving knight was the one bringing her closer to her high.
Just as the pleasure was about to hit its peak, a loud knock broke her concentration―followed by the voice of her old nanny.
Sumin’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as she practically tore her hand away from her womanhood. She quickly covered her burning cheeks with her silk blankets before granting her nanny permission to enter.
Her nanny busted through the door as she shook her head once she saw that the Princess Sumin was still in bed. She rushed over to the window and quickly opened them, allowing the light to fill up the room.
Sumin groaned as her eyes became squinted from the sudden large amount of light.
           “Child, how are you not dressed? Your mother and father are waiting for your arrival in the dining room for a spot of breakfast!” The nanny scolded as she made her way to Sumin’s gold and ruby decorated wooden wardrobe closet. She opened it quickly, revealing Sumin’s many dresses, and flipped through each of them before deciding on a beige colored dress decorated with plain diamonds in the shape of flowers. The sleeves were a quarter inch and of course, it laced in the back. The nanny then rushed to find her matching shoes and crown before demanding Sumin to get out of bed.
Sumin frowned, now sitting up on her bed, “But I beg of you dear nurse. Please do not send me out there!” The nanny clicked her tongue, “And why on Earth not, child? From I what I gathered, that King Ji Yong is a suitable husband for you.”
           “Please… you and I both know that Seokjin is my rightful husband, and I will not repeat will not marry another.” Sumin scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
A soft chuckle exited the nanny’s lips as she couldn’t help but stare at Sumin with nothing but pure amusement.
           “Well, child, go convince him that then. I believe your mother and father are running out of excuses to tell him.” The nanny stated, laying out her dress on the foot of the bed.
Sumin turned her heads towards her nanny, then towards the dress before letting out a long sigh.
Noticing that she wasn’t showing signs of budging, a devious idea appeared to the nanny.
           “I guess I need to send Seokjin in here. Maybe he can take your temperature for me since I noticed your face was heavily flushed when I came in here. I mean why else would you hide your rosy cheeks from me?” The nanny said, displaying a scheming smirk on her distinguished face.
Sumin’s eyes widened the second she heard her beloved’s face. There was no way in Hell was she about to allow him to see her in such a state, especially after he learns the truth of her burning cheeks. Knowing him, he might make her touch herself in front of him as some sort of weird punishment.
She quickly sprung up from her bed and tore off her nightgown. The nanny couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly Sumin was putting her dress. She then hurried to her side and helped the frantic princess finish getting ready before ordering the other maids to come inside and do Sumin’s hair and makeup.
The look of the day consisted of different tones of beige and gold. Her lips were dawning a pinkish red tone. Her cheeks displayed a look of innocent. Basically, Sumin looked as if she was untouched by intimacy. A look that had her scowling because she didn’t want to hide the fact that she had been touched by her knight. She wanted to proudly show off her new aura that radiated. That strong presence that would have deflected unwanted advances by her suitors, especially King Ji Yong
With her gold crown, that was shaped as leaves connecting to one another, resting nicely on her head, Sumin politely waved her maids off and directed her attention to her ladies-in-waiting. She kindly told them the plans for the day and announced that she would not be needing them tonight. They quickly responded with a, “Yes, your highness”, before paving the way for Sumin to exit the room first. Sumin took one last deep breath, mentally preparing herself for her upcoming breakfast meeting with King Ji Yong, before gracefully standing up and walking out the room with her head held high in the air.
Down in the dining room, tensions arose as Sumin’s parents and Ji Yong ate in silence. The king kept his eye on Ji Yong, trying to study his body language, as he munched away on his bread. On the other hand, the queen kept her eye on her husband, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything that would cause reason for a war. She knew how protective he could be over his family and if Sumin did not want to marry someone she did not love, he would make sure that didn’t happen.
           “Her royal highness, Princess Sumin!” The trio heard their crier announce. Seconds later, Sumin graciously strode in with her hands folded perfectly in front of her and a demurring smile painted on her face.
Her parents stood up first, ready to receive her curtsy, followed by Ji Yong. Sumin happily greeted her parents first with a warm smile and then turn to the invading king with her diplomatic smile and curtsied at him as well.
Ji Yong acknowledged the greeting with a short nod before watching her take her seat next to her father, on his left side.
           “Daughter, did you sleep well last night?” The king asked, wanting to strike up some light conversation with his family.
Sumin quickly slid her mouth over the silver fork and pulled it out, chewing the scrambled eggs before speaking.
           “Quite well, papa. Certain events that occurred last night has definitely tired me out.” She smiled knowingly, fully aware that her personal knight was standing in his position by the entrance way. She secretly glanced behind her shoulder, stifling her laughter as she watched Seokjin nearly choke on his spit the moment she said that.
Seokjin met her devious gaze and glared at her, however, Sumin simply winked at him in response.
           “Daughter, you do know that it is impolite to ignore our guest…” Sumin heard her mother speak, however, she continued to shoot Seokjin flirty yet teasing expressions. “Especially, when our guest has plans for you to accompany him into town this fine day.” She heard mother add, but this time in a firm tone of voice.
Sumin flinched at such a tone and awkwardly turned back around, facing her mother’s stern expression.
           “My deepest apologies, mother…” She then turned to Ji Yong. “And to you King Ji Yong. It is rude of me to ignore you when you are obviously making plans for us to spend a wonderful time among my people in the village.” She said; her sweet voice accidentally hypnotizing the calculating king.
Ji Yong smiled, “It is no problem at all, princess. I am honestly ecstatic that you are open to spending the day with me.”
Sumin sarcastically smiled, “I mean, I do not detest to such an idea, however, I actually have plans to practice my archery this nice Spring morning with my knight, Sir Seokjin. I apologize.”
Ji Yong cocked up his brow, “Oh? Are you sure that it was today you had that planned?” He then gestured for her archery trainer to come to him, “From what I was informed by your teacher, he said that your next lesson was not until tomorrow.”
Sumin’s smile instantly fell, though, it quickly reappeared since she didn’t want to let the arrogant know he had won.
           “Was it? Silly me. I have so many ideas and other things in my mind that it simply slipped.” She paused, sighing quickly. “Well, I guess that means I am all yours for the day.” It was her turn to gesture, calling for her knight. “Sir Seokjin, would you mind accompanying me on this little adventure. You know you are the only one I can trust with my life.” She asked, smiling sweetly at him.
Seokjin raised his brow, “Forgive me, my princess. Unfortunately, King Ji Yong has forbidden me from watching over you this morning, and I have other matters to attend to with your mother and father. They will be needing my services instead.”
Sumin felt her heart break slightly, “Oh… well, I shall see you later tonight then for our nightly walk around the garden.”
Seokjin smiled warmly at her, resisting the urge to cup her cheek and kiss her sweetly.
           “Of course, my princess. Excuse me.” He said before bowing in respect and taking his leave of her.
Sumin smiled as she eyed his retreating body with utter longing, wishing that her loving knight would turn back around and walk to her. Sadly, he did not.
A short huff left her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest and sulked in her chair.
Not wanting the awkwardness to fill up the room, the king quickly distracted Ji Yong’s attention.
           “So, King Ji Yong, what did you have in mind for your little outing with my daughter?” He asked as he lightly patted the soft napkin against his lips, removing any stains and crumbs of food.
Ji Yong mimicked Sumin’s father’s actions before answering,
           “Well, I thought she and I could get to know one another and enjoy a nice carriage ride and simply walk around the town. I want to get to know my future subjects before she and I wed.”
Sumin fought the urge to want to gag once he said that. What kind of man does he think he is? Already assuming that she wanted to marry him. What an arrogant king he was.
           “Sumin, do you not want to get to know this fine king?” Sumin heard her mother ask.
Sumin smiled at her mother, “Of course, I would love to get to know King Ji Yong, especially since he has gone out of his way to plan this outing for us.”
Sumin’s mother stifled her giggle and quickly plastered a stern look, “Very good, Sumin.”
The king too stifled his laughter, fully aware that his sneaky daughter has something planned up her sleeve.
           “Well, we shall not keep you two from enjoying your day. The queen and I will attend to our duties. Please excuse us.” The king announced before standing up and holding out his hand for his wife to take.
The queen politely bowed her head before standing up and taking her husband’s hand.
Sumin’s parents graciously walked out of the dining room with their kings’ men and ladies in waiting trailing behind them.
Ji Yong and Sumin watched their bodies disappeared from their sight before turning to one another.
           “My princess, are you ready to accompany me to the town?” He asked; his smile sending chills down her spine and not in a good way.
She smiled softly and nodded her head as she quickly patted down her lips, removing any food debris and/or stains. She placed the dirtied napkin on the table before standing up.
Ji Yong mimicked her actions and held out his hand for her take. The second her soft hand landed onto his, a wave of electricity shot through his arm and spread throughout his cold-hearted body. Never once has he experienced this feeling with a woman before. That feeling only fueled his desire to marry the innocent princess, and he was going to marry her— whether she was forced or not.
Now sitting in her family’s royal carriage, which was painted gold all around the decorative carvings while the main body was simply white, Sumin shyly looked out the window with her hands folded perfectly in her lap.
Ji Yong kept his eyes locked onto her, drinking in her natural beauty and imagining unspeakable things. Her bare shoulders were teasing him, begging to be touched by his lips. Her beautiful breasts were pushed up just a smidge thanks to her corset, so every time she took a breath, her chest would slightly heave up and down. Just that simple movement caused his hormones to go into a frenzy. If he wasn’t planning on marrying this goddess, he would be fucking her in the carriage. He would have her scream his name until she had it embedded into her mind. Every time she thought about his name, she would experience this wave of euphoria out of nowhere. That’s how bad his sinful thoughts were. However, he held onto his sanity by thinking about his union to her. Now, once they were married, then he could be doing all the things his dark side wanted to do. Whatever it took to claim her body and soul.
Almost an hour past, and the royal “couple” continued to sit in silence. That was, until, Ji Yong randomly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and then asked,
           “So, other than archery, what does the princess Sumin like to do on her free time?”
Sumin looked away from the various yet luscious trees and directed her attention onto Ji Yong.
She lightly tapped her chin, playing coy, before answering,
           “Well, I like to paint and play my mother’s piano forte in the music room, up in the third-floor of the castle. Permit me take you up there at least once before you leave. My father tells me that you have a hidden love for music, correct?”
Ji Yong nodded, “That is indeed correct princess. Something about music just soothes my heart and keeps the worries at bay. Maybe, if I am lucky, the princess will do me the honor of listening to her piano playing.”
Sumin’s cheeks sported a pinkish tint since not even Seokjin has had the opportunity to hear her play the piano, so hearing that Ji Yong wanted to hear her play actually caught her off guard.
           “Oh, I am not as wonderful as my mother. I actually play quite poorly, so I do not want to damage his majesty’s ears.” She said, lightly jabbing at her poor piano playing skills.
Ji Yong faked a gasp, “Nonsense, from the stories of what your parents tell me, you are quite wonderful at the playing.”
Sumin politely waved his accusations off, “They are simply trying to make me more appealing to potential suitors. I am rather better skilled at sword fighting and archery. Oh! Also at horseback riding.”
           “Oh, a princess who knows how to take care of herself…” He began to rub his chin as a flirtatious smirk graced his face. “My type of woman.”
A soft groan escaped Sumin’s lips as her plans were not working. She needed to come up with better deal breakers if she wanted to change his mind.
Just as Ji Yong as was about to say something else, the driver announced that they had arrived at the center of the village.
Sumin quickly said thank you before one of the footmen opened the door for her. She gently rested her hand on top of his as he helped her out of the carriage.
Feeling the warm sun hit her face caused the young princess to smile in content.
           “Look! It is the princess, mama!” She heard a young boy shout as he tugged on his mother’s apron and pointed at her.
           “Hush child, it is not polite to point at the princess.” The mother scolded before turning her attention on to Sumin and bowing her head out of respect. “Forgive my son, your highness, I thought I had taught him better manners then this.” She quickly apologized.
Sumin’s eyes widened as she suddenly felt flustered, “No. No. Your son has paid no offense to me. In fact, he was the perfect gentleman and helper announcing my presence to everyone here in this fine village.” She smiled warmly as she looked at her kingdom’s subjects.
The little boy blushed brightly as he never had a princess defend his honor like that before.
           “You are most welcome, your highness.” He said, beaming with excitement as he bowed in front of her.
Sumin covered her lips as she giggled at his cute actions.
While that was happening, Ji Yong was merely in pure awe at her actions. The ladies he has meant throughout his life never once exhibited such grace and charisma. Though, in their defense, he has never taken the time to get to know them. He only used them to satisfy his needs and then kick them out of his castle once he was done. The joys of being a single king, but now? His views and habits were changing. Yes, he wanted to marry Sumin but more than likely, he was going to recruit one of his favorite ladies as his mistress, however, the moment he felt some sort of unexplainable fire surge through his body, all notions of that went flying out the window. He simply wanted her. Only her.
           “Princess! Unfortunately, we must say goodbye to them since we have an entire to cover before the sun sets.” Ji Yong smiled as he walked up to her and rested his hand on her waist, pulling a little close to him.
Sumin questioned his odd action but shook it off as her people were staring at them with eager eyes. More than likely, they were hoping that she and Ji Yong were on the right track to being married. Yeah. Over her dead body.
She smiled sweetly at the Ji Yong before politely bowing her head, bidding the townspeople, who were in the center square, goodbye.
Ji Yong then guided her over to the local bakery, beginning their cute little tour there.
Back in the castle, Seokjin was dripping with sweat as he practiced his swordsmanship. He imagined the practice dummy as that arrogant king, who was touching his princess.
With an angry frown, he charged at the dummy, thrusting his sword through the material before turning his upper body, allowing the sharp sword to cut the dummy into half. He watched the upper half slide off the cleanly from the wooden stake. Ah, the joys of being one of the top swordsmen in the kingdom.
Seokjin stood up, allowing his arm to lazily rest against his body as he gathered his breath. However, it was proven to be quite difficult since something else was on his mind.
His heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. His stomachs were in knots. His hands trembled as something indescribable entered his mind. The more he thought about how his precious Sumin was spending time with another man, the more it frustrated him. The more his mind became flooded with fake images of Sumin passionately kissing Ji Yong, the more it made him sick to his stomach.
As the unknown emotion-filled up his entire body, it suddenly hit him.
           “Am I jealous?”
A/N: Why yes, Kim Seokjin, you are indeed jealous that someone else is with your princess! Don’t you love that horrible emotion? I kind of love it since it gives me good writing inspiration lol! Anyway, I shall see you guys in the next update!
Don’t forget to leave a like/reblog/comment/send in an ask on your thoughts! I love hearing them! :)
- Kim
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