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mendessi · 2 months ago

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things i say when you sleep | chapter fourteen

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 7.5k

chapter summary: After returning to Basgiath, Ania and Bodhi explore their free time together.

content warning: iron flame spoilers

AO3 masterlist

twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen

Xaden spends the better half of the day warding my door. I wish I knew how to show my gratitude because I know he'd rather spend his last hours at Basgiath with Violet.

"Things are going to be different without me and Garrick here," Xaden says, entering my room. Only he and Bodhi have free access. Everyone else would need to be pulled through.

This morning, I'd been sure we were going to die. It's not every day you hear your own name read off the death roll. I'd just been thankful that Xaden's plan had worked through and through.

"We'll be in charge of drops, I know," I reply. "Thank you. I know you'd rather be with Violet."

"You're important to me too," He assures me as he closes my door behind him. "I wouldn't be here if you weren't."

It feels wrong, finally being on better terms with him just for him to leave later tonight. He swears he'll write to me, but I wish I would have just made use of our time together here. I know I needed the space to grow into who I am today, but there's still so much that could've been different if I'd just listened to them in the first place.

"I want to apologize," I say, but nothing else follows.

He leans against the door, waiting for me to finish. "You don't have to apologize for anything."

"I should," I reply. "You did your best with what I gave you this year. I made it really hard. I guess I should also say thank you. For caring enough to make sure I lived." I'm rambling at this point, but I've never been good at expressing my emotions. Which I suppose is why I ended up an empath.

"Regardless of whether our relationship was on better terms or not, at this moment, I would've done whatever I could within my power to ensure you remained safe." He folds his arms over his chest and the corner of his mouth lifts. "But it is on better terms."

"Yeah, I guess it is." I smile a little.

"Are you still cut off?" He means by Gleigeal.

"Until further notice," I reply, standing up.

"What happens if they pull you for interrogation? If Dain gets his hands-"

"Dain is taken care of. I don't think he'll come for any of us after you embarrassed him this morning," I tell him.

That surely was a sight to see. I didn't expect Xaden to make such a spectacle out of it, but I guess he had a point to make.

"You can't shield with no power," Xaden says.

"I know. I'm already decent at shielding, and as soon as I'm not cut off anymore, I'll practice with Bodhi." I reassure him. "Gleigeal would never put me in a position where I couldn't shield if I needed to."

"I know he wouldn't." He nods curtly. "I just..."

"You worry." I finish for him. "You have plenty of other things to worry about. Don't add me to the list."

"It's impossible not to add you to the list." He sighs. "The celebrations are starting soon. You should get ready."

I cross my room and open the door. "Thank you for warding my door."

"Anytime, little Alistair." He exits, and I follow him into the hallway. I have nowhere else to be, but being locked up in my room doesn't sound pleasant. "I'll see you soon."

He'll be back for the occasional weekend with Sgayel to visit Tairn. Luckily, that would take a lot of weight off our shoulders.

We stand in front of my door, and I fold my hands behind my back. I stare up at Xaden, taking in the man in front of me. The person he's grown into is somebody that, in the best way, I don't recognize. He doesn't have to carry Fen's legacy, but he does. He carries the revolution on his back without anything to show for it. One day, when this is all over, there's a chance that nobody will know it was possible because of him.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"I don't know if anyone has told you, but I'm proud of you," I say softly.

He shakes his head briefly, and before I can think, I wrap my arms around his torso. He tenses under me, but I don't let go. Within the next second his arms are around me, squeezing me tightly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I hold them back.

Xaden and I have shared countless hugs in our lifetime, but this one might be my favorite. This one, I know, is the most important.

At this point in our lives, as adults, we share the weight of what we know about the world. The weight of knowing what we just went through in Resson is something only a select few can understand. But also, I'm realizing now that Xaden is and has always been a brother to me. Accepting the reality that he fought for me to welcome him back into my life and what that means moving forward.

"Take care of yourself, Ania." He says when I pull away.

"You too," I whisper.

Watching him walk away hurts in a way I didn't expect it to.

The sun is beginning to set, and the end-of-year celebrations are kicking off, but I can't be bothered by celebrating tonight. It wasn't just my name that I heard on the death roll this morning; it was Solei's and Liam's. Two people that should be here celebrating with us.

Liam hurts the most. His death is something I'm sure I will never get over. Knowing that his pain is something I'll carry with me is devastating. As I pass the gathering hall, I see the remainder of my squad sitting together at a table. At least Violet can bring herself to drink tonight. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if I had a few.

"I've been looking for you." Garrick steadies me when I nearly collide with his chest. "Let's take a walk."

I catch Ridoc's eye just as we walk away from the gathering hall. I barely spoke to any of my squadmates in formation, let alone after.

"Why aren't you with them?" He asks once we make it into the courtyard. After eighteen hours on Gleigeal's back, I have an undeniable limp.

I shrug, "Just wanted to be alone, I guess."

"You shouldn't cut yourself off from your squad." He says. "You need them now more than ever."

"I'm not," I argue.

"Then why aren't you celebrating with them?" He says, gesturing back toward the gathering hall.

"I don't see what there is to celebrate. You and Xaden are flying off to combat while I'm stuck here." I shrug.

It's deflection. Something I've grown to be extremely good at over the years. It's not that I don't want to have these conversations; it's just that sometimes I can't. Xaden and Garrick are leaving. Liam is dead. Venin are real. I almost died. And I'm supposed to just proceed through my second year lying to the people I've unfortunately grown to care about.

"Do us both a favor and keep yourself surrounded by the people who care about you." He rests a hand on my shoulder and offers me a smile.

"I like this one," I fight the urge to roll my eyes as Gleigeal's voice enters my head. "He makes a lot of sense."

"I'll try." It is the best I can do.

"I'll see you sooner than you think, little Alistair." He shoots me a wink before hiking the strap of his rucksack high up on his shoulder.

"Take care of yourself," I call after him as he walks away. "I mean it, Tavis! Stay out of trouble!"

"I know you do." His laugh echoes off the stone walls, but he doesn't turn to look back at me.

Seeing him head for the flight field leaves me with a sense of sadness. It really was just me and Bodhi now. What happens when he graduates and I'm left here by myself? The thought is shoved to the back of my head, another thing I can't bear to think about right now.

Taking Garrick's advice, I make my way back to the gathering hall. Violet is exiting, and by the look of the shadows, I'm sure she's on her way to meet Xaden.

"Hey," I say in passing.

"You look like you need a drink," She replies, barely giving me a second look. Her time with Xaden is limited, and even though they're not on the greatest of terms, I know she still wants to see him off.

"Look who decided to join us," Sawyer grins when I take a seat next to Imogen.

"I was convinced you'd stay locked up in your room for the rest of the night," Rhiannon says.

Imogen slides me her mug of wine, and I don't even hesitate before taking a sip. The taste is sweeter than I expected, but I don't mind. I quietly thank her. She looks at me like I'm as fragile as the pitchers the wine rests in and I'll break if dropped at any moment.

It's apparent upon further observation that everyone in the gathering hall is either entirely wasted or on their way to it. I suppose this is what the next five days will look like while we prepare for the next Conscription Day. Maybe I should take advantage of the time being placed in front of me and use it to forget.

"Imogen left the battle with a split lip. How did you get your limp?" The question from Nadine catches me off guard, and the way I recoil is visibly noticeable.

"Maybe I've had it all along." I ignore her and down the rest of the wine from Imogen. She pours me another glass to the brim with ale this time, and I'm eternally thankful.

There's no telling how many glasses of ale, wine, lemonade, you name it, I've downed within the hour. I'm positive that I've never drunk this much in my life, and I'm colossally regretting it when I try to get back to my room and stumble into the wall. The alcohol was supposed to numb the ache of what I've felt since leaving Resson, but all it's done is amplify it. All I can think of is the life leaving Liam's eyes while I drained the pain from him.

"Woah, Ania." It takes a second for my vision to focus, but eventually, Ridoc's face comes into view. He's got my face in his hands, and he's saying something, but his words sound muffled. It takes everything in me to listen to what he's saying. "Come on, I'll take you to your room."

He lifts my arm over his shoulder and helps me to my room. How I somehow managed to drink more than Ridoc Gamlyn astounds me. Once we're in, he lies me down on my bed and takes my shoes off for me.

"What is it?" I feel the bed dip next to me with his weight as he pulls the blanket over me. His thumb brushes my cheek, and it's then that I realize I'm crying.

I shake my head, knowing there isn't anything I could tell him that wouldn't give away the full story. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"I know why," He says quietly. "We don't have to talk about it now. But I'm always gonna be here for you, Ania."

He's a good friend, and it hurts that I can't be honest with him. All he knows is that we saw battle. He'll never know the true extent of what we went through in Resson, and there's a chance I'll never be able to tell him. It's just another thing I'll have to carry.

"I had to dismount Gleigeal," I whisper, unable to stop the word vomit threatening to spill out of me. "That's why I have a limp. It should go away soon."

His eyes narrow as he tries to process my words. It seems like he realizes that I'm circling back to Nadine's question from earlier because he brushes the hair that's fallen onto my face. The interaction is sobering.

"I'm sorry," He says.

The tears flow uncontrollably at that point, and the weight of everything from the past week comes crashing down on me like a landslide. Everything I've forced myself to not feel is overwhelming me all at once, and the sobs that rack my chest are something I've never felt before. I've had panic attacks and anxiety attacks but the way I'm crying now isn't from either.

It's grief.

Something I don't think I've ever allowed myself to feel in its pure form. Not since my parents and Beckett. The weight of Resson sitting on my chest. Soleil. Liam.

I will be grieving him for the rest of my life. Grieving the time I should've spent more with him. Grieving the time I should've had left with him. He was so young. He had so much life in front of him.

My heart fucking aches and throbs and refuses to stop. It genuinely feels like its being split in two, tendon by tendon.

It could just be me finally coming to terms with what I went through the past week, but I know it's so much more than that. Going home to Aretia might've been the cherry on top of it all, but the way it hits me all at once leaves me gasping for air. I can't even reach into my head where the Riorson House library is to try and control my own emotions considering I've been shut off from my dragon's power.

"What can I do, Ania?" Ridoc asks, slightly panicked. I'd feel embarrassed if I had half the mind. He climbs onto the bed, pulling me into his arms allowing me the breakdown I should've given myself years ago.

My eyes are stinging, my cheeks wet from the nonstop flow of tears spilling from my eyes. My throat is so tight that it hurts to breathe and all I can do is cling to Ridoc's tunic for some sort of semblance that he's still here with me.

"It's okay," He strokes my hair and it dawns on me that he's not the person I want here. "You're okay."

I'm eternally grateful that he's here to steady me as much as he can in this moment, but he isn't who I want. He's not who should be holding me.

I've nearly cried myself to sleep, hiccuping, and barely any tears are left with Ridoc gently rubbing my back. The door swings open and I know better that only a select few have the privilege of doing so.

"Get out." My head turns, and the broad figure filling the doorway gives me a sigh of relief.

Ridoc doesn't hesitate, standing from my bed after gently removing me from his arms. I grab his hand just before he's far enough and he turns to look at me.

"Thank you," I whisper. It shouldn't go unnoticed that he was here for me.

"Of course, Ania." He gives me a small smile before making his way toward the door. He and Bodhi seemingly size each other up before Ridoc whispers something that I can't hear. He's barely into the corridor before Bodhi slams the door shut behind him.

He kicks off his shoes quickly and climbs into bed with me and I immediately wrap myself around him. My body fits perfectly into his and he smells of vetiver, sandalwood, and home and he's everything I need. His arms slide around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest and the sobs force themselves out of me once more.

"I'm sorry," I cry, keeping my face pressed into his shoulder.

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. It's alright, sunshine." His voice is soft as he pulls my face away to look at me. He brushes the present tears off my cheek.

"Sunshine," The word conjures so many emotions within me when I repeat his nickname for me. "How did you know?"

"Gleigeal told Cuir that you needed me," He says quietly. His fingers trace patterns up and down my spine, easing me back into a calm state.

I feel pathetic. Riders are supposed to be strong. Yet I'm crying the most I've let myself in years. Not once since I entered the quadrant have I seen a single tear shed by anybody in public.

"Never feel ashamed for what you feel. If you must cry, then cry. I warned you that shielding yourself from your emotions wasn't healthy." Gleigeal's voice startles me. "I've told you several times, that you were chosen to be my rider for a reason. I knew the person you'd grow to be."

"Why was Ridoc here?" He asks me after a few moments of silence. It's not accusatory in the slightest.

"I drank too much and he helped me back," I reply. "Nothing happened."

"He worries that Cadet Gamlyn has different intentions," Gleigeal says.

"What? Ridoc and I already tested those waters and trust me. They're cold." I say down my bond.

"Does he know that?" He's referring to Ridoc. I have the urge to hide myself from the embarrassment at the memory of me kissing him after Threshing. But we both agreed that wasn't a path we should go down. We're better as friends and that's not something I'd ever be willing to put at risk.

"I know," He smiles down at me, kissing my nose.

"And I never slept with him." I finally admit. "Ridoc is just a good friend."

"Oh, I know." He says matter of factly.

"What do you mean 'you know'? You made such a big deal out of it last year." I'm on the defense now.

I had been so angry with him for assuming Ridoc and I had slept together. Sure, I know it didn't look the best to have him scrambling out of my room without his shirt or the handful of times I'd left his room in the mornings after we platonically shared a bed, but he never even asked.

"I mean I know you, Ani." A light laugh leaves his lips at the disbelief on my face. "If you slept with him, you would've just said so. The way you danced around it told me you weren't telling the whole truth. You forget we grew up together."

"I implied it." I scoff.

"And I saw through the implication," He smiles. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, I just..." I sigh and try to form the words. Even though things are the way they are between us, opening up still seems like a chore and it draws a lot from me.

"Take your time," His thumb brushes against my cheek. I realized then that his arm, previously in a sling, was now in a cast. He was supposed to be getting it mended today, that's why I didn't see him at all.

"Um..." I take a deep breath and sit up, folding my hands in my lap. I'm just now getting the feeling back into my fingertips, I can't imagine how long it'd take if Brennan hadn't mended the nerve damage. He sits up with me, his hand reassuringly resting on my knee, reminding me that he's here for me. "I was thinking about Liam. Then my parents and Beckett. And Resson. I think I just cracked under its weight."

"I want to be here for you," His thumb circles gently on my thigh, "You don't have to carry this alone. Let me help."

When I turn to look at him, there's a shift in everything I've been feeling. Just the sight of him eases the intensity of every emotion I've gone through tonight. The simple way his eyes scan mine for any certainty that what he's doing is helping. The gentle brush of his fingertips against my skin. The warmth of his body enveloping mine, making everything better. As a rider, nothing will ever be perfect again in my life, but as long as he's here, I have all I need.

The idea of it scares me, needing him more than he'd ever need me. There's a chance that one day this will all disappear. He could decide he doesn't feel the same way, or worse considering the line of work we're entering, I could unimaginably lose him.

There are not enough years left in my life to make up for the time I deserve to spend with him. He's been there for as long as I can remember, since before I could walk. There isn't a world where he's not irrevocably mine. And I his. This had been in the cards for us all along, whether we'd been betrothed or not. Our paths had been set to intertwine since our childhoods.

"Come here," He cups my jaw between his thumb and forefinger and pulls my lips to his in a gentle kiss.

My fingers instinctively tangle into the dark curls at the base of his neck. He somehow manages to pull me closer, his arms sliding back around my waist. He pulls me down onto his chest as he falls backward into my mattress. I laugh softly against his lips, pulling away so I can look at him.

He pushes my hair over my shoulder so it's out of my face and pecks my lips, "We have so much free time over the next five days and I intend to spend just about every second of it with you."

"Is that a threat?" I tease, running my fingers through his curls.

"That's a promise, Cadet Alistair," He tilts his head up, kissing me again. He flips us over and presses his weight onto me. "Hey."

"Hey." I smile softly, unable to keep myself from sniffling. My eyes feel puffy in the aftermath of my breakdown, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

"I love you." He says and the way his eyes flicker down to my lips is unmistakable.

"Tell me you mean it," The words come out barely above a whisper as I trace his jawline with my finger. He takes my hand into his and kisses the soft skin of my palm.

"I've never meant anything more," His eyes don't leave mine.

The next morning Bodhi and I wake up before the first bell, my bare chest pressed against his, the sun just peeking through the windows. I reach my fingertips out and watch the light stream through my fingers, sighing when I feel nothing from it. How long does Gleigeal expect me to live without my power?

"He's not punishing you, you know," Bodhi says, sleep laced through his tone. His morning voice is too attractive to put into words. He reaches his hand up and laces his fingers through mine, bringing the back of my hand to his lips.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You feel like Gleigeal is punishing you by taking your power. The reality is that he's protecting you," Bodhi tells me. He sits up before I can argue and kisses my forehead.

I use the sheet to cover my chest as I lean against the headboard and watch him gather his clothes off the ground, redressing himself. "It feels like punishment."

"I promise you, it's not." He winks at me, glancing at himself in the mirror before he makes his way toward the door. "I'll see you tonight. Meet me in the gathering hall when the party starts."

Preparing for the first years might be more annoying than the chore duty I had before Threshing. However, having the rest of the day to do whatever I please is quite nice. I utilize most of my free time hidden away in my room, catching up on sleep. You'd think a week after burnout I would be feeling like my normal self again, but sleep is the easiest thing to find.

It's my last official free day before Orientation and I want to take advantage of it.

I'm halfway back to my room from the flight field when Ridoc stops me in the courtyard.

"Are you gonna avoid us forever?" There's a slight annoyance in his tone, one I've never heard before.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the wall.

"You haven't come to any of the parties this week except after graduation. You haven't eaten with us. You're not meeting us in the gym. What's going on?" He lists off the number of things I've intentionally done this week and I can't help but sigh. "Look, Ania. Whatever you're going through, whatever you went through, we want to help you and be there for you. But we can't if you keep shutting us out."

"I just need space right now to sort through my shit. That's all." My guard has been set in stone since we got back to Basgiath. I haven't even so much as had a chance to talk to Violet which is who I probably need to see the most.

"Space? That's bullshit, Ania, you know it." He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. "Don't say you need space when the Section Leader has spent every night in your room since you got back."

"I'm not doing this with you," I push my back off the wall. Bodhi will not be a part of this argument.

This is not an argument I'm even willing to have. Not when there's no way for me to ensure I won't say something I regret. Ridoc is pissed and I'm on my way to being equally as pissed as he is, but not once since I've met him have I ever seen him angry.

"Look," He grabs my wrist and I immediately pull away, "I will never understand what you and Violet went through. But I want to try. I want to be there for you. You're one of my best friends and when you didn't return on time, I was so worried that I lost you guys. Please, just let us be there for you."

I run a hand through my hair and watch the way hurt flashes across his eyes. Guilt rattles me to my core. Keeping the truth from those who want to do nothing but care for me is ridiculously hard. Not only are they my squad mates, they're my friends. I can't avoid them and shut them out forever.

"I'm sorry," I say truthfully. "I'm just having a hard time processing everything."

"I know you may not be ready to talk about it and that's one hundred percent fine, but don't shut me out." He rests his hands on his hips.

"I burnt out," I tell him. "After I dismounted Gleigeal, I burnt out. And I almost died. Bodhi... he was there for me and made sure I lived."

That part feels freeing to say. He doesn't need to know how or why, but it's just a sliver of the truth that will hold him over and make it easier for me to move through my day-to-day.

"I had no idea," He whispers. He hesitates before pulling me into a hug and I allow it after tensing for a moment.

Ridoc was easily one of the first people I considered a friend in the quadrant and he may be one of the best I have. It's not fair to him for me to not reciprocate what he's giving. Not when he's doing his best to make it work.

"Then I should thank him. For bringing you back safe." He says when he pulls away.

I wrap an arm around my midsection and then pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh.

"Bodhi and I... well Xaden and Garrick too, we all grew up together," I tell him. Hopefully, he takes the news better than Violet did, but that was a completely different circumstance.

"Oh." Is all he says.

"I'm sorry for keeping that from you. I honestly wanted nothing to do with them when I got here, but things changed." I explain.

"No, no. I don't blame you. It's just... it makes a lot of sense now." He nods. "So, you and Bodhi are like a thing now, then?"

"It seems that way," I don't know how to say it with Gleigeal's words replaying in my head.

"As long as he treats you right," Ridoc says and I immediately nod.

"He does. I swear."

Realization settles in his gaze and it makes my heart pound. I don't want to think about the way that this could've possibly hurt him. I always just assumed the night of Threshing we both agreed and felt the same way that friendship suited us.

"Okay," He nods once more.

Ridoc walks me back to my room and I'm grateful when Violet is exiting her's.

"Hey, do you have a second?" I ask before she can turn away from me. She nods and I grab her hand pulling her into my room. "I'll see you later, Ridoc."

"See you later," He smiles. "That's pretty cool, by the way. Who did that?" He gestures to the door.

"Xaden," I reply. His lips form into an O shape and he nods.

"Right."

With that he's turning on his heel and down the hall. Violet sits in the chair at my desk and I sit on the bed. I almost don't know where to start with her. We barely spoke in Aretia and on top of that prior to Resson I'm convinced she hated me and considered me a liar.

"How are you doing?" The words awkwardly tumble out of my mouth.

"Good, I think. You? You kind of just keep hiding in here." She says, folding her hands in her lap. It's slightly comforting to know she feels just as awkward as I do.

"I'm tired," I answer honestly and then pause. "But hiding in here makes it easier to lie to them."

"They don't exactly have an instruction manual on lying to the people you care about. 'Selective truths' is what Xaden said to me before he left," She says.

Selective truths.

Exactly what I just gave Ridoc. That's all we can give our friends until further notice. The chance that they never accept the truth doesn't sit right with me.

"Are you fully recovered?" She asks and I laugh lightly.

"My hip is fucked up, but I think it's just about healed. I also don't feel as tired as I did when we got back. Normal, I guess. Slowly getting back to normal," I don't know why it feels so hard to talk to her after what we just went through together.

"After Liam," she swallows and I understand, "I saw you and Gleigeal with the wyvern. Then when I saw you and that venin, Gleigeal was nowhere to be seen and I was rightfully terrified. When I woke up and remembered everything, I was scared Xaden would tell me he buried you too. I knew that was something he wouldn't survive."

Words refuse to come out, mostly because I simply can't arrange them into a proper sentence. I do my best and even though it takes a moment, they eventually materialize.

"Well, I'm told we survived because of you and Xaden," I offer a small smile. "So thank you."

"We'll get through this, Ania," She tells me, "There's no right way to navigate it, but we'll figure it out. Together."

"Together." I nod.

"Where are we going?" I laugh as Bodhi drags me through the forest. There are a few hours til curfew and I can barely see in front of my feet with the sun dipping below the horizon. There's a small amount of natural light left. "I'm not gonna be able to light the way once it's dark, you know."

"Just be patient. You've never been patient, Ani. It might be your fatal flaw." He glances back at me and my lips part in a dramatic gasp.

"I am too patient," I argue. "I might be the most patient out of all you boys."

"You know who was the most impatient?" He asks.

"Beckett," We answer at the same time with a laugh.

Remembering him these days is an easier thing to do. His memory no longer brings me to anger. I can simply remember him and be grateful that I got to have him as a brother.

He leads me through a clearing next to the lake and I have to stop in my tracks when I see a circle of dimly lit mage lights surrounding a blanket with a small basket that seemingly is filled with food.

"What is this?" I ask, looking at him.

"I figured it was about time I took you on a date," He smiles cheekily.

"Bodhi," His name is just above a whisper off my lips and I let him pull me to the blanket.

"Ani," He mimics my tone, his hands sliding around my waist as he kisses me.

My arms wrap around his neck as I stand on my toes to deepen the kiss. My fingers brush through his dark curls as his tongue slips past my lips and glides against mine. Gods, he's perfect.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done," I say, observing the scene in front of me.

"My lady," He teases, gesturing me to sit down. I sit next to him with my knees tucked to the side as he pulls the basket toward us. "You should've seen me trying to sneak this out of the kitchen."

"I can only imagine," I smile as he opens a small pack of fruit. "Bodhi, I'm serious. This is... I don't even know what to say."

The way he feeds me the piece of fruit is cliche but I don't mind. Once the sun fully sets and the only light besides the mage lights gifted to us is the moon, and after we're full from the fruit and bread he's brought, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I love when you wear your hair down," He tells me. We're laid out, both of us propped up on our elbows as we face each other.

"Enjoy it now because after tomorrow it'll be up for most of the year," I tell him. "Speaking of... Orientation was today. RSC?"

He takes a deep breath, "It's tough, I won't lie to you. But, your squad is ridiculously tight-knit, more than any that I've seen in my time here. You guys are going to be fine."

The warmth of the July air clings to my skin and I annoyingly tug at the collar of my long sleeve tunic I've been forced to wear since our return. Bodhi stands up and tugs his shirt off, followed by his boots and pants, til he's left in nothing but his briefs.

"What are you doing?" I laugh as he pulls me to my feet. His hands slide under the hem of my tunic and he slowly pulls it over my head.

"We're going for a dip," He tells me, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my pants. He tugs them down my thighs and helps me step out of them, taking a moment to kiss the scar where Fionn had stabbed me at Threshing.

The water is at a comfortable temperature and is so refreshing that I vocalize a sigh once the water reaches our necks. He pulls me to him and I wrap my legs around his waist, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"Thank you for tonight. It was really special," I say quietly as I watch the reflection of the moon ripple with our movement.

After the Apostasy I never imagined that I'd find myself this comfortable with someone again. Let alone Bodhi Durran. Yet, here we are. He's everything to me and more.

"Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?" He pulls back slightly so that I can look at him.

The question makes my cheeks heat up. I'd been a girlfriend one other time in my life and I hated the person I called my boyfriend. I'd dated him out of spite and boredom and we broke it off after four months. The sex hadn't even been good. The mere idea of being a girlfriend to Bodhi Durran has my stomach tied in knots but in the best way.

The way the moonlight softly illuminates his features is nothing more than picturesque and I want the image ingrained into my memory forever. Paint it on my tombstone if one must. I trail my finger down the bridge of his nose, a feature of his I remember him being insecure about as a preteen, though it's one of my favorites.

"Hmm, let me think about it," I can't help the cheesy smile that plasters my face.

"It's settled." He shakes his head and leans in to kiss me right before he holds my body flush against his and dunks us both under the water.

"Vile. Just vile," I laugh when we resurface as he uses his thumbs to brush the water from my face.

I try to pull away but he grips my hands and pulls me back to him. He holds my wrists under the moonlight and I jerk backward. The discoloration didn't take long to become my least favorite thing about myself.

He notices my discomfort and lets my wrists go, his hands finding my waist once more. He holds me under the moonlight and a comfortable silence settles over us.

Conscription Day has already been slightly more brutal than the last. Between Liam's sister, Sloane, hating Violet and me, and picking unnecessary fights with my new wingleader, Dain fucking Aetos, it feels impossible to get through the rest of the day without anyone getting on my Gods damned nerves more than they already have.

"You're one step away from the anger issues that plagued you last year," Gleigeal says and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, is that why I'm still cut off?" I reply annoyance laced through my tone."Being bitter with me will not aid you in getting your way," He grumbles.

I'm placed between Ridoc and Violet in formation as Panchek's voice fills the courtyard like nails on a chalkboard. The day hasn't been that bad when you think about it, I'm just irritatingly on edge today for some reason. Watching Dain try to fill the role that Xaden had last year is almost laughable, but I can't help but wish Xaden were still up there.

When the wingleader's dragons join us in the courtyard, I hardly pay attention. The reaction of some of the first years pushes me farther past the point of agitation that I'm already sitting at. I just want us to be dismissed so I can find myself in bed for the rest of the night.

"Are you okay?" Ridoc asks, glancing at me.

"I'm fine," I sigh. My fingers dig into my palms and I realize that one of the reasons I'm so pissed off is because of how fucking hot I am. I'd be surprised if this long sleeve didn't have sweat stains down my back. It just reminds me why I have to wear it and the memories of Resson flood my mind. Catching sight of Sloane in the corner of my eye nearly pushes me over the edge. She looks so much like Liam. I tug at the collar and force myself to take a deep breath.

Control it. Don't let it control you.

"You don't seem fine, Ania," He whispers.

"Ania, calm down." Violet's voice is quiet but firm as she grips my wrist into her hand.

Now is not the time for a fucking panic attack. What the hell has gotten into me over the past couple of days?

"Show me you can ground without magic and then we'll discuss reopening the channel," Gleigeal says.

Anger shakes me to my core. No way he's using this as a lesson. My breaths are deep but shaky and I hyper-fixate on the way that Violet has my wrist in a death grip. I cannot do this in formation, not in front of the entire quadrant.

My focus is pulled when a group of first-year scrams by. That just pisses me off more, knowing that they're seconds away from being torched.

"Eyes forward," Gleigeal's voice is filled with panic. My head snaps to the front of the formation and my eyes land on a large Orange that I don't recognize. I let my gaze drop for a second and notice Bodhi, who shakes his head slightly. It's hard to tell from this distance but he looks worried.

Bodhi's eyes widen as he takes off in a run just as Violet's scream fills my ears. He's forced to stop when the Orange curls his tongue.

"Get down!" She lunges for Sloane and before I can even think to move, Ridoc pulls my chest to his, throwing us both to the ground.

I cling to him tightly as he does his best to keep his arms around my head. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly doing my best to drown out the screams around us. My breath is hitched in my throat and I refuse to let it go, knowing if I do, it'll be my last. The blaze against my back is scorching and I'm grateful that Ridoc protects my head.

I finally let myself breathe when Ridoc helps me to my feet. I don't even want to look at the remnants of what just happened behind us. I wince when Ridoc turns me to look at my back. I watch as Violet pulls her shirt off in her hand and wish I had the scales she does.

"Gods, Ania," He sucks in a breath and I don't even want to know what it looks like.

"Ania!" Gleigeal shouts.

"I'm fine. I think," I reply down our bond. My eyes find Bodhi who is in the same place I last saw him in, relief written over his face when he sees me standing. My skin feels nothing short of melting and I have to hold on to Ridoc to steady myself. I'm thankful when I see that the sleeves of my uniform are still intact hiding the gray prints pressed permanently into my skin. The cool air against my skin tells me the back of it is no longer there.

"Get back in formation! Riders do not balk at fire!" Panchek screams over the chaos.

Violet steps toward me, pulling Imogen with her as we fall back in line.

"Ciaran is dead," Imogen whispers, and my stomach hits my feet.

I let my eyes find the pile of ash where I know he'd previously been standing and nausea takes over.

"Conspiratize later. I need your focus at one hundred," Gleigeal snaps, knowing where my brain is headed.

Bodhi finds me immediately after formation is dismissed and I'm grateful when I think that Tairn might've bought our squad some sort of protection after his conflict with Solas, the orange who torched a large chunk of the quadrant.

His hands cup my cheeks and he looks me over. "Your back, Ani."

"It's fine. Violet's too." I say, looking around for her but she's already disappeared, likely to the healers where I want to be.

"Violet has scales." He tells me as if I don't already know. He turns to Ridoc who hasn't left my side. "Thank you. For protecting her."

"No need to thank me," He shakes his head once. "She needs a healer." The way Bodhi's jaw tightens tells me he's doing his best to not roll his eyes at Ridoc.

That night, after three hours in the healer's quadrant, Bodhi is sitting criss-cross on my bed, gently spreading healing ointment into my skin. I can barely feel his touch with the way the pain meds they gave me have me feeling nearly entirely numb. I sit up when he finishes and take a deep breath when I study his face.

"Something is going on, something we don't know about," He finally says, reaching for my hand. "With you being cut off, I don't think it's a good idea for you to come on drops."

"What?" I raise my voice. "That's not fair."

"It is fair and it's not an argument. Until you have your power back, you're not coming. I'm not fighting with you about this." He snaps and I close my mouth. "You and Violet stay here. Stay out of trouble and don't draw attention to yourselves."

"What happened today was intentional," I say quietly. Saying it out loud makes it real.

"I don't want to say that's what happened, but it seems that way." He replies, cupping my cheek.

Surviving second year just got a lot harder.

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tag list: @itsmytimetoodream @lynnieluvsu @sherlockstrangewolf @abysshaven @wolfbc97 @paris009 @poseidont @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lxnvmvrzx @books-hlmc @that-girl-reading

#bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #bodhi durran fic #bodhi durran x oc #the empyrean #fourth wing fanfic #bodhi x reader

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paucubarsisimp · 1 month ago

Note

Hi darling, sorry if I’m rambling a bit, I swear I didn’t mean to write this much, I don’t even know how it got this long, but I would love if you could write something like this for Jude, only if you feel comfortable with it, of course!

So, the idea is that the reader and Jude have been having this little romance, but the problem is, the reader ends up falling for him without meaning to. Scared of her feelings and how intense everything is getting, she decides to visit her parents, hoping to distract herself and clear her head. What she doesn't know, though, is that her parents were already expecting guests — she just didn’t ask much about it.

It turns out, the guests are no other than Jude's family. Her dad and Jude's dad are old friends who lost touch a bit due to Jude's career, so it’s been years since they all got together. Jude's parents still remember the reader as the sweet little girl she used to be, but now she’s very much not that anymore.

And the real twist? Jude is there too. They meet again under the same roof, full of unresolved feelings, stolen glances, tension, and emotions the reader was trying so hard to run away from.

untold feelings

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

summary: basically the request, idk how to summarise this

warnings: none! maybe js a sprinkle of angst?

tagged: @barcapix, @universefcb,@joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

the relationship — or whatever it was, really — with jude had started so effortlessly. a few casual flirts here and there, some late-night texts, stolen moments that felt like the world was shifting under your feet. and somewhere between the laughs and the smiles, you realized you were falling for him.

that wasn’t part of the plan.

at first, you tried to brush it off. you told yourself it was just fun, just a phase. but every time he smiled at you, every time you found yourself tangled in the soft glow of his gaze, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. the pull. the intensity. your heart racing every time he was near. and that terrified you.

you didn’t want to fall for him. you couldn’t. he was a rising star, and you were just… you. someone who’d been chasing fleeting moments of happiness, only to get tangled in emotions you weren’t sure how to handle.

so, you did what anyone running from feelings would do — you ran.

you packed a bag and decided to visit your parents for a while, hoping the change of scenery would clear your head. you needed space. you needed to breathe without jude’s presence looming over you like a weight on your chest.

but what you hadn’t anticipated was the guest list.

when you stepped into your parents’ house, the usual peace of the place was broken by the sound of voices in the living room. you had expected the calm, the familiarity of home, but not this — not the low murmur of conversation or the laughter that felt oddly out of place.

“i didn’t know you were expecting guests,” you called, the surprise leaking into your tone.

your mom appeared in the doorway with a smile that quickly faded into a curious expression. “oh, sweetheart, you’re here! i didn’t think you’d make it in time… but look who’s visiting.”

you stepped forward, your mind still processing the situation. your gaze flicked toward the living room, and there, standing like an uninvited guest in the middle of your quiet home, was none other than jude.

his eyes widened in recognition. he was frozen for a moment, clearly just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. it was like the world stopped, and all you could hear was the soft hum of your own heartbeat.

you didn’t know what to say.

“jude?” your voice broke the silence, your breath catching in your throat.

he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. finally, he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “well, this is… unexpected,” he muttered, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

your parents were talking casually about something else, oblivious to the tension now hanging in the air. your mom motioned for you to come closer. “don’t be shy, dear. you know jude’s family, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you managed, your words feeling distant. “i know them.”

but this? this was… something entirely different.

jude’s parents, denise and mark, immediately greeted you as though it had been years since they last saw you — which, technically, it had. denise gave you a warm hug, ruffling your hair affectionately, like she used to when you were younger. mark, always the more reserved of the two, gave you a firm handshake and a kind smile. jude’s younger brother, jobe, stood off to the side, eyeing you curiously.

you nodded politely, though you barely heard their conversation. jude’s presence was like a weight on your chest, heavy and familiar.

you had tried so hard to forget how much you cared for him, to shut down the feelings that threatened to spill over the moment you saw him again. but standing there, under the same roof as jude, all of that effort seemed pointless.

why is he here? you wanted to ask.

but you couldn’t. because the answer was obvious. his father was an old friend of your dad’s, and they had likely reconnected after years of distance — a distance caused by jude’s skyrocketing career.

he still looked the same. taller, maybe, but the boyish charm was still there. the same smile, the same confidence that made your heart flutter even as you tried so hard not to let it.

you caught his eye across the room, and for a split second, it felt like you were the only two people in the house. but then, quickly, he turned his attention back to his parents.

you sighed quietly to yourself. you were trapped. there was no escaping the mess of emotions swirling inside you. no running away anymore.

the evening passed in a blur. the conversation continued around you, but you barely registered it. jude’s parents were asking about your life, your family, your work. it all seemed so distant compared to the internal war raging inside you.

you had to get out.

with a polite smile, you excused yourself and retreated to the back of the house, pretending to check your phone or needing a breath of fresh air. you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a splash of cold water. you walked down the familiar path to the backyard, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming feeling of jude’s presence in your home.

how did this happen? you thought, standing still under the quiet night sky. how did we end up here, like this, when i’ve been trying so hard to move on?

you tried to breathe, tried to forget, but the moment you closed your eyes, you could still feel jude’s presence in the room, his eyes watching you, his voice lingering in the air. you couldn’t escape it.

the night stretched on, and you found yourself pacing the backyard, unsure of how to handle the storm brewing inside you. jude’s presence was like an uninvited guest at your own party, making everything feel tense and unfamiliar. the old, familiar feelings were creeping back in, despite all your attempts to bury them.

you glanced at the back door, wondering if you should go back inside, pretend that you were fine, that everything was normal. but a part of you knew it wasn’t normal. not anymore.

the sound of footsteps behind you made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“you okay?” jude’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure whether to approach you or give you space.

you spun around slowly, your heart racing. jude stood just a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking at you with that familiar intensity that made your chest tighten. the way his eyes searched yours made it feel like there was no one else around.

“yeah,” you said, though the word felt hollow. “just needed some air.”

he took a step closer, his gaze flicking toward the door. “you don’t seem like you’re okay.”

you didn’t have an answer. how could you? how could you explain to him the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling without sounding like you were losing your mind? the truth was, you were anything but okay.

“i don’t know what’s happening,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “everything’s just… messed up.”

jude didn’t speak right away. instead, he closed the gap between you, standing so close that you could feel the warmth of his presence, the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with the cool night air.

“it’s not messed up,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “we’re just… different now. things have changed. that’s all.”

his words made your heart skip, and for a moment, you wished you could just forget everything. forget the feelings that were pushing their way to the surface, the confusion, the fear.

but it wasn’t that simple, was it?

you took a small step back, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “no, it’s not that easy,” you said, your voice more firm than before. “i can’t just… ignore how i feel, jude. i can’t keep pretending this is just some casual thing when it’s not.”

he flinched, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. you saw something flash across his face — guilt, maybe, or maybe something else entirely. but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with that same stoic expression that always seemed to distance him.

“i’m not pretending either,” he said, his voice low. “i feel it too. you think i don’t know what this is doing to both of us?”

the words hit you harder than you expected. there was no pretending, no avoiding it. jude felt the same way, and somehow, that made it worse.

you swallowed hard, your chest tight. “then why… why are we doing this? why are we playing this game when we both know it’s more than that?”

jude stepped closer again, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. “because it’s easier this way,” he murmured. “it’s easier to pretend we don’t care, to ignore it, than to actually face the mess it would make.”

you stared at him, the words echoing in your head. easier to pretend.

was that really how it was? or was he just too afraid to admit what was between you two? the connection, the spark that had always been there, but was now too big to ignore.

“but it’s not easy,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “not anymore.”

for a moment, jude didn’t say anything. he just stood there, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and understanding. the tension between you two was palpable, thick enough that you could almost taste it.

“maybe we don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said softly. his eyes never left yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw in them — vulnerability, something he never showed anyone.

your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at him. jude bellingham, the one person you had been running from for weeks, was standing right in front of you, his emotions laid bare. he wasn’t hiding from you anymore, and it made everything feel so much more real.

but that was the problem, wasn’t it? the moment you stopped pretending, everything became real.

you wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in your throat. how could you even begin to explain the mess inside your head? how could you ask him for something you didn’t even fully understand yourself?

before you could speak, jude took a deep breath and stepped back, breaking the moment. “look,” he said, his tone shifting. “i didn’t come out here to make this harder for you. i just… i just wanted to check on you.”

you nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the unspoken words still hanging between you. “thanks,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

jude hesitated, then gave you a small, almost sad smile. “i’m here, if you need me. you know that, right?”

you didn’t know how to respond, but you managed a faint smile. “yeah, i know.”

he nodded, then turned to walk back inside. you stood there for a moment longer, watching him go, the feelings swirling inside you like a storm you couldn’t control.

things were never going to be the same again.

the next morning, you woke to the sound of laughter drifting through the house. the kind of laughter that filled the entire space, making everything seem lighter, as though the weight of last night had somehow lifted in your sleep.

you rolled over, squinting at the clock. it was already late, too late to be in bed when everyone was up and moving. you let out a small sigh and pulled yourself out of bed, throwing on some comfortable clothes before heading downstairs.

the moment you stepped into the kitchen, you were greeted by the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of your dad, jude’s dad, mark, and the rest of the family sitting at the table.

jude was there, too.

he looked up as you entered, offering a small, knowing smile, but you could see the tension in his eyes. you both had spent the night avoiding each other after that conversation outside, but neither of you could ignore the air between you.

“morning,” you said, trying to sound casual, even though everything inside you felt anything but.

“hey, there you are,” your dad said, looking up from his coffee with a smile. “how’d you sleep?”

“fine,” you muttered, giving him a half-smile as you moved toward the coffee pot.

“you’re just in time for breakfast,” mark said with a grin. “we’re all catching up. haven’t seen your dad in years.”

you nodded, but your attention was fixed on jude. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but you could feel the weight of his presence. it was almost like you were in the same room but still miles apart.

“yeah, it’s been too long,” your dad agreed, clearly enjoying the reunion. “so, jude, how’s everything going with football? must be keeping you busy, huh?”

jude gave a tight smile, his usual charm not quite reaching his eyes. “yeah, it’s been hectic. but it’s good. busy is better than the alternative, right?”

“for sure,” your dad said, clearly impressed. “you’re doing well, though. the whole family’s proud of you.”

“thanks,” jude replied, his voice quieter than usual.

you poured yourself a cup of coffee, taking a deep breath before sitting down at the table. you didn’t know how you were going to get through this morning without making everything awkward. the air was thick, and every time your gaze flicked to jude, it felt like the space between you grew.

you stirred your coffee, trying to find something to say, but nothing seemed to come out right. how could you make small talk when all you could think about was last night?

it wasn’t long before the conversation shifted to the weather, and everyone fell into a more comfortable rhythm. but every now and then, your eyes would meet jude’s, and for a split second, you’d catch that look in his eyes — that unspoken connection, that weight between you two that no one else could see.

after breakfast, your dad suggested a walk around the neighborhood. jude’s parents seemed eager to go, and before you knew it, everyone was outside, enjoying the sun.

you trailed behind, your thoughts running in circles. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to be in this position, feeling this torn between the past and the present.

“hey,” a voice called from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts. you turned to find jude walking toward you, his hands in his pockets, his gaze flickering nervously to the side.

“hey,” you said, keeping your tone neutral, though your heart was racing.

he stopped just a few feet away from you, the space between you two suddenly feeling impossibly small. “look, about last night—”

“jude,” you interrupted, unable to keep the frustration from creeping into your voice. “we don’t have to talk about it. it was… a lot.”

he hesitated, his lips pressed together as if he were trying to find the right words. “i know. but i just… i didn’t want you to think that i didn’t mean what i said. i wasn’t just saying it to say it. i care about you, okay?”

the words hit you harder than you expected, catching you off guard. you blinked, trying to process what he’d said.

“you care about me?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” jude replied, his voice soft but firm. “i do. i’ve always cared about you. even when we were younger. i didn’t just forget about you, you know?”

his words felt like a punch to the gut, and you had to steady yourself against the nearest tree. you hadn’t been prepared for this, for him to put all of that out there.

“i never forgot about you either,” you said, your voice shaky.

the moment hung between you, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid building between you both. you were both standing in the same place, but you were miles apart in your heads.

“so… what does that mean for us now?” you asked quietly, dreading the answer but knowing it was something you had to hear.

jude looked down for a moment, then back up at you. “i don’t know,” he admitted. “but i’m not running from this anymore. i’m not pretending it’s nothing.”

you swallowed hard, trying to process it all. everything felt like it was coming at you too fast. the feelings, the uncertainty, the fear of what might come next.

“me neither,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

jude stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “so… what now?”

you looked away, feeling a mixture of longing and doubt swirling inside of you. you didn’t have the answers. you didn’t know what the future held, but you couldn’t keep running from it.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, voice trembling. “but i think… i think we need to figure it out.”

he nodded, looking relieved, but there was still that heavy silence between you two. it wasn’t resolved yet, not by a long shot, but for the first time, you didn’t feel like you were facing this alone.

the rest of the afternoon felt like a blur, every moment dragged out in a haze of nervous tension. you and jude barely spoke again after your walk, each of you lost in your thoughts, avoiding one another but never truly out of sight. jude’s family stuck around for a while longer, filling the house with conversations that seemed to bounce off the walls, but you couldn’t shake the heaviness in your chest.

every time you caught jude’s eye, the air around you thickened, charged with unspoken words and emotions neither of you knew how to articulate. you weren’t sure how long you could keep avoiding this.

later that evening, after everyone had left and the house was quiet again, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, staring at your phone. there were a million things you could do — call a friend, watch something mindless on Netflix, drown yourself in something that could pull your mind away from the mess inside it. but nothing seemed like it would help. nothing could distract you from jude.

you jumped when the back door opened and jude stepped inside, the sound of the door closing softly behind him.

“hey,” he said, his voice cautious, as if unsure whether he should even be here.

“hey,” you replied, without looking up from your phone, hoping that the distraction would somehow keep your emotions at bay.

jude hesitated, then took a few steps forward. “you okay?”

you finally looked up, meeting his gaze. it felt like you were staring at him for the first time, really seeing him. his eyes were heavy with something you couldn’t quite name, a vulnerability that was almost too much to bear.

“i’m… i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice soft. “i’m just trying to figure things out.”

he nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “me too.”

you both stood there in silence, the quietness of the house pressing in on you, making it all feel too real. too much.

finally, jude took a step closer, his eyes flicking to your phone as if it were the only thing stopping you from having a real conversation. “so… what now?” he asked again, his voice lower this time, like he was afraid of the answer.

you didn’t know. you didn’t know what now even meant anymore. you didn’t know if you were supposed to put the walls back up, ignore the feelings growing between you two, or if this was the moment to break through the barrier and admit that there was something more.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out at first. you closed your eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath. “i don’t know, jude. i just… everything feels… complicated.”

he moved closer, standing beside the table now. you could feel the warmth of his presence, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. his hand hovered near yours, like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if it was okay.

“complicated?” he echoed, a small, half-laugh escaping his lips. “i guess that’s one way to put it.”

you let out a humorless chuckle, the tension between you both palpable. “i can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter,” you said softly, looking up at him. “i can’t keep pretending that it’s just some fling. Imatter to you, and you matter to me.”

his expression softened, his lips pressing together in a tight line as he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours like he was testing the waters.

“i never wanted it to be casual, not really,” jude said quietly. his hand moved to cover yours fully, warmth spreading from his touch to your chest. “i just didn’t know how to tell you. didn’t know what to say when i started feeling… this.”

your heart skipped at his words, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, standing in the kitchen, hearts laid bare for the first time.

“you should’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “i was scared too, jude. scared of what we were, scared of what this could be.”

“i know,” he said, his thumb brushing over your hand gently. “but i didn’t want to mess it up.”

“so what now?” you asked again, finally daring to meet his eyes.

this time, jude didn’t look away. he stepped closer, closing the distance between you, his hand still holding yours firmly. “now… we stop pretending, right? we stop being afraid of what’s between us. because it’s there, and it’s not going anywhere. we have to face it.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. the intensity in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice — it was everything you’d been avoiding, and everything you couldn’t deny anymore.

“okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

you didn’t need anything else. the words were enough to make the reality of it all sink in. this was happening. whatever was between you and jude, it was real, and it wasn’t going away.

without another word, jude leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slow, tentative at first, like he was still unsure of how much you were ready for. but you responded, pulling him closer, letting your lips deepen the kiss as you surrendered to the emotions that had been building between you two for so long.

in that moment, you knew nothing was going to be simple anymore. there would be no easy answers, no guarantees. but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t alone.

#football #footballer x reader #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagine #rma #jb5 #real madrid

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cleo-fox · 11 months ago

Text

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part I

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which your story begins. Chapter Warnings: Off screen parental death, implied alcoholism, financial ruin, Loki being vaguely menacing in a library.

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Once upon a time, you had a family and you were happy.

Your father was a lord with a modest estate to his name. You had enough money to live comfortably and pay your servants well, but not so much that you lost all perspective. Your parents were good, kind people who were well-liked and well-respected, and they loved you very much. Though they had been married for many, many years, they still behaved as a couple newly and madly in love. Your mother’s eyes lit up when your father walked into the room and your father looked at your mother like she was the sun and moon and all the stars combined in one dizzying and glittering person who lit up his entire world.

In the darkest part of the night, when all your tears had been spent and your heart felt as though it would never stop breaking, you wondered if it would have been better had he loved her a little less, if that would have made things easier for him in the end. It’s the sort of thought that you feel guilty having, the sort of question that you know you’re not supposed to ask—after all, some stones are better left unturned.

Your bright and glittering mother burned too brightly for this world and it seemed rather bitterly poetic that she should be taken by a fever. Her eyes shone bright as new silver coins as the sickness burned through her, her fevered mind conjuring demons and shadowy figures from the flickering firelight in her chambers. The shadows in her mind made her weep and scream so loudly that you couldn’t help but hear it, even though your father tried to shield you from the worst of it. Worse, though, was when she went very still and quiet, her rattling cough the only sign that life still lingered in her too bright eyes.

She was only sick for a fortnight, but it felt like months of pressing cool cloths against her burning brow and waiting with bated breath for relief that did not come.

She died at sunrise, leaving you alone and taking a part of your father with her.

He tried, your father. He really did. He got up and got dressed every day. He still took you on rambling strolls through the city, still took an interest in your studies, still quizzed you on history at the dinner table, still told you he loved you. But his eyes never really regained their former sparkle and his face grew hollow and just a shade too thin. He drank more—always at night after he thought you’d gone to bed. Sometimes, you would find him staring empty-eyed into the fire, like if he looked hard enough, he might catch a glimpse of your glittering mother dancing in the flames just beyond his reach.

The worst part of it was when you tried to talk about it, he insisted he was fine, even as he began to neglect the house, even as he did not hire replacements for the servants who had begun to leave. You suspected—but could not say for certain—that if you were to look at the house’s accounts, you would find a good deal of red in the ledger. He grew weaker and thinner, like he was trying with all of his might to just disappear.

Your father died like your mother—in the quiet of the night before you could say goodbye.

But your problems were only just beginning.

You hadn’t expected them to bring you before the king’s steward, but that is where they take you when you arrive at the palace. The palace as a whole is light and airy and bright, but Fritjof’s office feels like a dungeon—largely because of the man himself. Fritjof is a thin and reedy man who would seem less imposing and severe if he were carved from granite. He sits at his desk as he looks you over, his mouth drawn into a thin hard line like you've already disappointed him.

“Do you know why you’re here, girl?” You don’t know it yet, but this greeting is a rather apt example of what your entire relationship with Fritjof will be: cold, distant, and abrupt.

You’re not sure if you should look him in the eye—he seems like the sort of man who would interpret a direct gaze as a sign of impertinence while simultaneously demanding it as a sign of respect. There is no winning with that sort of man—you’re young, but you know this.

Ultimately, though, you decide to look him in the eye. Not for him, but for yourself—it at least gives you the illusion that you’re somewhat in control. It’s a comforting illusion, even if it is a lie.

You clear your throat. “My father’s debts, sir.”

He sniffs slightly and it’s somehow dismissive, like you’d said the wrong thing and he’d expected that. “No.” He picks up a quill and makes a careful note on one of the papers sitting in front of him. “You are here,” he says as he writes, “because of the Allfather’s generosity.” He looks up, fixing you with a stern gaze. “You will do well to remember that.”

“Yes, sir,” you say.

He returns to his writing. “You are not of age and you have no family to take you in.”

This is a fact that you’ve become quite well acquainted with, but you are still surprised by how painful it is to hear Fritjof say.

“The Allfather has settled your father’s debts and you are now a ward in the employ of the crown. You will take no wage until such a time that your debt to the crown has been repaid. You have ceded all claims to your title and any property of significant value.”

He sets his quill down and looks up, his expression devoid of any warmth. “You are a servant, you are indebted to the crown, and you will remember your rightful place at all times. I do not tolerate foolishness, laziness, impertinence, or stupidity. Do I make myself clear?”

You swallow, your fingernails digging hard into the palms of your hands, any hope of finding kindness at the palace well and truly extinguished. “Yes, sir.”

Fritjof stares at you for a moment longer and you get the sense that he’s trying to decide whether you’re truly clever enough to have answered his question. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from squirming under his gaze. Finally, he clears his throat.

“You will work in the kitchens. Grete will see to your training. You are dismissed.”

You don’t really know where the kitchens are or who Grete is, but you exit as quickly as possible, desperate to leave Fritjof and his icy gaze well and far behind you.

Years pass and you come of age in the punishing pace of the palace kitchens.

You are an average worker, precise and methodical, but not exemplary or incompetent enough to draw much attention. You like it this way—the less conspicuous you are, the less likely that you’ll stumble into Fritjof’s crosshairs. While Fritjof spends very little time in the kitchens, his general presence in the palace has the same effect as an icy draft on a guttering fire. He doesn’t exactly seem to like anyone in particular, but it feels like he reserves a particular kind of disdain for you especially. You’re not entirely sure why—it’s not as if you’ve done anything other than simply exist in front of the man—but you try not to think on it much. At some point, you mention it to Grete and she laughs.

“That man has never smiled a day in his life,” she says. “His soul’s made of vinegar. Keep your head down and pay him no mind.”

You laugh, but you still can’t quite shake the feeling.

Grete is something like a friend, you suppose. She’s around your age and prone to gossip, but she’s pleasant enough. She makes an effort to include you in her small group of friends—Marit, Solvi, Lise, and Ylva. It’s not quite the same as your life before, but you have something that resembles a social life, which is more than you expected given Fritjof’s icy reception.

The head cook, Anja, also turns out to be something of a blessing. While the details of your current situation have left you feeling a little wary about trusting anyone, Anja proves to be the exception to that rule. She’s not exactly a warm person, but when she finds you crying in the pantry one night not long after you first arrive at the palace, she sits you down in front of the fire and fixes you a mug of warm milk.

“I’m not one much for sentiment,” she says gruffly as she hands you the mug.

You tense in anticipation of the lecture you’re certain is coming.

“But losing both your parents in such a short time, that’s a heartache I understand.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, so you nod and take a careful sip from your mug.

“I won’t tell you it gets easier,” she says, “but the pain dulls after a while. It’ll become an ache you can live with.”

Anja is quiet for a long time as you sip at your milk, but it’s not an uncomfortable quiet. “You’re a smart girl,” she says eventually. “This—” she gestures broadly at the kitchen, “—this is just a short season in your life. You won’t be a ward of the crown forever.”

It’s the first time that anyone has said anything like that to you, the first time that your debt has felt like anything other than an immovable and immutable obstacle. It’s a hope that feels practical and you feel something lighten in your spirit.

You blink away more tears and Anja pretends she doesn’t see. “Thank you,” you say.

Anja pats your shoulder as she stands. “Wash the cup before you go to bed.”

For the most part, you keep your head down and focus on your work, dreaming about the day your debt is repaid and you can leave the palace behind.

Though you’re curious about your outstanding balance, you decide that you cannot ask Fritjof about it for a while yet. While Fritjof’s general unpleasantness and seeming dislike of you is a motivating factor, the main reason is because the amount you owe is large enough that it doesn't seem particularly prudent to check until enough time has passed for your work to start to make a difference.

So, you wait and work.

It’s many years after your arrival that you finally drum up the courage to knock on Fritjof’s office door. Though you are now a woman grown, you can’t help but feel like you did on that first day: wide-eyed and terrified, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands in an effort to maintain your composure. Even though you’ve never asked him about this before, Fritjof still looks annoyed as he hauls out his ledger, licking his index finger as he flips through the pages.

Your knees are shaking when he finally slides the ledger across his desk for you to inspect. You suck in an uncertain breath while your eyes scan across the page until you find your name.

And there in Fritjof’s precise script is a horrible truth: your balance owed has barely moved at all.

You have worked until your body ached, forgone sleep and many other comforts, and it all amounts to a raindrop in the ocean. At this rate, you will be an old woman by the time it is paid off in full.

You have years of practice holding back tears, but this creeping sense of despair and the lump in your throat are both new. You feel as though you’ve lost something important and after a moment, it occurs to you that the feeling you’ve lost is hope.

“Will that be all?” Fritjof says gruffly.

You jolt. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

You only allow yourself to weep later that evening under the cover of darkness.

But despite that loss, this is the year that everything begins to change, though you won’t know that until much later.

You spend the first week after Fritjof’s revelation walking around in a dazed fog. You eat little and sleep as soon as your work ends in the evening, clinging to what scant comfort your dreams are able to provide. But from that consuming fog of hopelessness emerges a strange kind of freedom. It’s not exactly apathy so much as it is perspective—suddenly, the little things that bothered you seem pointless, arbitrary rules that kept you in line feel less consequential. Does it truly matter if you sneak an extra pastry into the pocket of your apron when so many more years of backbreaking work lay ahead of you?

It’s this change in perspective that motivates you to begin visiting the palace library.

Reading is a pleasure that was taken from you when you came to the palace. You had managed to keep four favorites from your parents’ library, but you have read them so many times over that it is difficult to enjoy them in the same way that you had before. With all of your wages going toward your debt, you have no money to buy books of your own, not even the cheap paperbacks they sell in the marketplace. From time to time, you might be able to arrange a trade with one of the other servants—bartering an extra shift for a borrowed book—but your reading interests and theirs did not always align. A library is a luxury that you can barely even begin to imagine—and one day, it occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t have to imagine it.

You’re not exactly breaking a specific rule. That is the story you intend to tell if you are ever caught. The library is open to the entire palace and no one has ever specifically said that servants are excluded. Granted, if you have to guess, you’re fairly certain that you’re not supposed to be there, but you’re prepared to play dumb if it comes down to that.

You are still careful, though. You only go very late at night during your free hours. You don’t stay long—maybe an hour at most, the clock chiming midnight always serving as your cue to exit. You never take anything with you—you read quietly standing in the stacks, your eyes straining in the dim lamplight.

You like this new rhythm to your days—it gives you something to look forward to, a glimmer of light in an otherwise exhausting existence. The only person who notices you coming and going at late hours is Grete, but she easily convinces herself that you’re sneaking about because you’ve taken a lover. You roll your eyes and tell her that you’ve simply grown fond of a late evening walk. She doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t try to stop you either, which is the only thing you care about.

It’s three weeks in when you’re caught. You expected this would happen at some point, but you didn’t think it would be so soon and you didn’t think that one of the princes would be the one to catch you.

Your stomach drops as you recognize the emerald gaze boring into you from across the room. You hadn’t seen him sitting there, hadn’t heard him come in, and there is no way to hide the open book in your hand. It’s not like you could pretend that you are here on urgent kitchen business, either. If Thor had been the one to find you, you might have had a hope of pleading your case, but Loki...well. Loki isn’t exactly known for being particularly merciful.

You meet his gaze dead on, your chin jutting out almost instinctively in quiet defiance. He looks at you, utterly unreadable, his gaze flitting briefly to the book in your hand. There’s a slight twitch at the corner of his lips—something that could be a hint of amusement, though you can’t quite imagine him smiling in this moment.

He holds your gaze for a moment more and then his gaze drops back to his book.

You stare at him for a few seconds before retreating back into the shadows of the stacks, your heart beating wildly. You’re not entirely certain what this means. Perhaps he is biding his time; perhaps he will go straight from here to Fritjof’s office after he finishes his book. Perhaps he will wait until morning.

You consider this for a moment. If he intends to report you, your time in the library is surely limited; you’ll be back to rereading your own books and making bargains with the other servants. This could be your last chance to enjoy a new book for quite a while. You might as well make the most of it.

It’s not easy to bring your focus back to the text, but you manage, even though your heart is still thundering in your chest. Your legs are a little wobbly, but you convince yourself to stay until the clock chimes midnight.

Loki looks up as you are leaving the library. You keep your eyes on his, chin tilted up as you dip into a perfunctory curtsy. You’re not quite sure if it’s amusement or something darker that makes his eyes glitter like jewels, but it’s out of your hands now and you’re resigned to whatever fate has in store. You leave the library with your head held high, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling under the weight of Loki’s gaze.

When all is said and done, though, he doesn’t report you.

He’s there the next evening when you return and most of the ones after that. You seem to have reached some sort of unspoken agreement with him, though it baffles you. You are not entirely certain of his motivations—perhaps he sees you as an amusing curiosity, perhaps he does not care enough about rules and protocol to be much concerned when someone breaks them. Perhaps it’s simply the fact that you never seek to deprive him of the chair that he favors—the red one right by the window. Or perhaps he still intends to turn you over to Fritjof and he’s merely waiting for the right moment to do it. Whatever the reason, he seems content to allow you to go about your business and you decide that it’s a reprieve that’s best not questioned overly much.

Still, even with this silent truce between you, even with your vow not to think about all the ways this could go wrong, Loki gives you the same feeling you get when you discover a wasp trapped indoors: a slight sense of unease, the feeling that you must be aware of his presence at all times or risk some sort of danger.

Careful, you think.

Sometimes, you lock eyes and it’s hard to ignore how hard your heart beats in your throat, how difficult it is to hold your head high and not look away. It gives you a strange feeling, but not necessarily an unwelcome one.

He’s also rather absurdly handsome, which doesn’t help matters.

Careful.

Every year, the palace hosts a masquerade ball. It’s meant to be a celebration for all of Asgard—everyone is invited, even the servants. Inviting the servants is a nice gesture, but a slightly thoughtless one—a ball requires an enormous amount of work, especially from the kitchen staff. If everyone took the night off to attend, there would be no celebration at all.

Many years ago, Anja had implemented a solution to this problem. There would be a rotation—the full staff would work together the day of the ball, with one third being dismissed a few hours early to attend and the other two thirds remaining in the kitchens to work. The assignments would change every year so everyone got the chance to attend. It wasn’t perfect, but it was fair and no one could find any fault with fair.

The problem for you was that Fritjof was the one who actually arranged the staffing for this. And every single year, you are assigned to the group scheduled to work. You know that this is intentional on Fritjof’s part: it is the sort of pointless, petty revenge that he is fond of and it requires little effort for him to accomplish.

It doesn’t really occur to you to complain about it. You’re trying to keep your head down and complaining to Fritjof is not worth the trouble it would cause, even though you would very much like to go. So, every year you ignore the sympathetic looks from Grete and the other girls and try not to think about the dress you have tucked away in the trunk in your room as you work the night away in the kitchens.

Among the few belongings that you were permitted to take with you to the palace is a gown that once belonged to your mother. You wanted a bright, glittering reminder of her when she died and this dress was the brightest and most glittering one in her wardrobe. It is several seasons out of fashion, but it is beautifully elegant, all ivory silk and lace and hemmed with silvery embroidered leaves. The matching shoes are encrusted with blue and silver beads that glitter like glass when they catch the light. A matching mask of silver filigree accompanies it—your mother must have worn it to one of the masquerade balls many years ago.

It is an impractical dress to keep—you have never worn it anywhere outside of your own room—but it’s nice to put it on and pretend sometimes. If you ever get the chance to go, this would be the dress you would wear—everyone dressed a little outlandishly for the masquerade and a gown a few seasons out of fashion would draw no special attention.

It’s a silly, passing thought—just another daydream that makes your old life seem not quite as far away.

But in the year that everything changes, your absence from the ball is finally brought to Anja’s attention.

On the day of the masquerade, Anja summons you to the larder on the pretext of helping her with some pastries. The moment the door closes, she whirls on you, fixing you with a stern gaze. You tense and for a moment, you think she must have found out about your trips to the library.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been assigned to work during the masquerade every year since you’ve arrived?”

Your relief is immediate, accompanied by a dizzying rush of adrenaline that almost makes you want to laugh. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Of course it matters,” says Anja with a level of feeling that surprises you. “Everyone's meant to have a chance to go, not everyone except for one person. You should have said something to me.”

You know you’re speaking out of turn, but the indignation in Anja’s voice is oddly disarming. “I didn’t think Fritjof would allow it,” you say.

Anja’s shoulders sag slightly and there’s a flash of softness in her eyes that disappears almost as quickly as it appears. “I’ll thank you not to repeat this, but that man is too hard on you.”

You shrug, not really sure what to say.

“Luckily, he’s predictable,” she continues. “He’ll be in and out of the kitchens early on in the evening, so I can’t change your assignment without him noticing. Once desserts go out, though, he’s likely to stay in the ballroom. After the cakes are iced, I’ll send you to go get dressed. You won’t have more’n two hours in all, but it’s enough time to get cleaned up and dressed and have a dance or two before the unmasking at midnight.”

Your mouth hangs open. This was beyond what you had hoped for. “Really?”

“Don’t gape at me, girlie, it’s unbecoming,” she says, lightly tapping your cheek. There’s something warm growing and expanding in your chest and you realize there are tears brimming in your eyes. “Don’t you cry on me either or I’ll change my mind,” says Anja gruffly, though there’s warmth there.

You nod, hastily wiping your eyes. “I just—I never thought...thank you, Anja.”

“It’s the decent thing to do,” she says, brushing you off. “Now look lively, there’s a lot of work to be done yet.”

You think of your bright and glittering mother and your kind father and the life that they wanted for you. It’s just a masquerade, but you can’t help the small, hopeful feeling that blooms in your chest.

Little do you know that this will be the start of something rather extraordinary.

Next chapter

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut #as the clock strikes midnight

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angeliteeyes · 8 days ago

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Ganyu x Demon Reader

''I'll be a good demon for you''

Your boss wants you to get off your ass and be evil. Unfortunately for them, you can't be bothered. That is, until they offer you a special reward. Now determined, you wander around Liyue looking for someone to possess and happen upon a sweet blue-haired girl being mistreated.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Listen up. We need you all to start taking your job more seriously. None of you have accomplished anything at all! No possessions, no curses, no contracts... the only thing you've accomplished is being nuisances and a pain in my ass."

You yawned widely as your boss continued to ramble. Personally, you couldn't care less about their mission to reinstate demonkind or whatever. What's the point of worrying about lame stuff like that? They didn't even pay you for all the overtime they'd been demanding... not that you would do the extra work even if they did.

"It would appear that some of you need a stronger incentive to do your job. With that in mind, we've prepared a surprise for you." Your boss reached into one of their pockets and pulled out a small vial. In seconds, the entire room full of codemonworkers sprang to life, though you didn't understand why yet. Murmurs spread around the room.

"Is that..."

"No way!"

"I haven't had any in 2000 years!"

"As some of you might recognize, this is what humans refer to as 'sugar', one of the greatest delicacies ever invented. All of you have the opportunity to receive one vial of sugar—if you commit at least one successful demonic act by the end of the month."

Groans echoed in the room as insults and complaints were thrown around. Was this 'sugar' really that good...? It had to be, based on how everyone around you was acting, right?

Damn. Time to do actual demon stuff, you guess.

With that said, your list of ideas for what to do was pretty small. Curses would be cool, if you actually ever bothered to learn any. Haunting somebody wouldn't work; you'd need to actually give a fuck about wanting to hurt them, or else the bad vibes wouldn't be strong enough. So, that leaves... huh.

You'd never tried possession before, but according to what you've heard, even the least skilled of demons can do it if they try their best. You won't, of course, but surely you can pull it off anyway.

"Do you have any idea how busy I am, Ganyu? I've got a date right after this and I haven't even gotten ready yet! Seriously, you can be so lazy sometimes."

As you traveled around Liyue, you spotted two women. One was the voice's owner who kept shrieking loudly. The other, a small blue-haired girl, shrank into herself further and further with each round of beratement. Intrigued, you slinked your incorporeal form closer.

"I-I don't think I'm—"

"God, just shut up already. Here's the paperwork you need to get done by tomorrow. Do you hear me? To-mo-rrow." You observed as the rude one shoved a stack of papers onto her so harshly that it nearly pushed her over. Damn. Despite the expectations of your boss and the public, your heart went out to the poor girl. Ganyu, was it? If anyone could understand how frustrating pushy coworkers were, it would be you.

Welp. Time for demon stuff.

"You better not turn it in late, got i—mrfph!" You instinctually pushed the girl's soul down, making room for yourself. All of a sudden, a cacophony of distorted senses rushed through you. Was this how possessing someone was supposed to feel like? It seemed... off, somehow.

"...are you... okay?" A faint voice pulsed in your brain. Oh, right, the girl. You had nearly forgotten about her with all the chaos. Taking a few deep breaths, you attempted to pull yourself together.

"Ah... yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." You smiled at her. At least, you think you did. Possessions are way harder than everyone made them out to be.

"I uh, I changed my mind. You don't have to do the paperwork, okay? Hand it back to me." As much as you tried to sound natural and mimic the real woman's tone, this was getting super draining for you already. You had to get out of here fast.

"No, I don't mind. Really, I'll take care of it, so go get some rest. You don't... look well. Should I walk you home?"

"What?" Her concern bewildered you. Didn't you literally just hear this woman get insulted and treated like trash? You'd never do any favors for someone like that, that's for sure.

"No, that's not right. If someone's rude to you, you're supposed to be rude back."

Now it was her turn to be confused. Despite your sincerity with those words, it must sound kind of weird coming from the very person who was being mean just moments before. You squinted at her.

"Just give them back. Please."

"No, I—"

"Please." Sweat dripped down your shivering skin. Even with your inexperience with possessions, one thing was clear; you were running out of time. Fast. Your vision was already hazy and growing duller and duller by the second. In a desperate attempt to conclude your evening's adventure, you reached out to grab the papers yourse

. . . H u h ? . . .

. . . I ' m s o . . .

. . . C o l d . . .

"Can you hear me?"

. . . C o l d . . .

"■■■? Can you hear me?"

. . . W h o ? . . .

"Here, drink this."

. . . You felt something unidentifiable press on your lips. Barely processing her words, you obeyed.

It wasn't long before the blurry veil covering your vision lifted. Finally capable of thinking clearly, you looked around at your surroundings. Somehow, your body must've sunk down to the ground, seeing as you were now leaned against a nearby wall. Ganyu sat directly across from you. Her hands still held the cup you'd drunk out of, and inside it was some sort of weird, orange liquid.

She looked at you with sympathetic eyes. "I had a feeling your blood sugar was low. Thank goodness I happened to have this leftover."

Blood sugar? What the hell was that? And more importantly... why was that drink the best damn thing you've ever tasted?

"Oh, uh, thanks. What exactly is that stuff?" You lifted a finger to point at the glass. Her head tilted to the side.

"Orange juice, why? I can get you something else sugary if you'd prefer."

"Wait wait wait, you're telling me you have sugar here?!" Rapidly losing any concern about disguising yourself, you rushed forward and leaned in close to the girl in overwhelming excitement. Her cheeks flushed red at your proximity, before she began to stutter out a response.

"Well, y-yes? You're acting a bit strange, are you—oh!" Her response was interrupted as you pulled her tightly into a hug, nestling your face into the crook of her neck. Your bodies rubbed against each other and your warmths mixed together, furthering your current bliss.

"Pleaaaaase please please sign a contract with me! I promise I'll treat you well and take care of any meanies that get in your way. Just let me stay by your side and have more of that sugar thing, okay? Pretty please?" You could feel her squirm under you as her breath hit the side of your neck.

Oh, wait. You're still possessing that girl, aren't you? Better change into your real form and introduce yourself.

"Ahem, let me start over. The name's [Redacted], and starting now, I'll be your demon pal! I just need you to sign this form right here and we'll be good to go." You hummed to yourself with pride. Look at you, being so productive (for once in your demon life). Surely, this was a foolproof plan.

Except she's not responding. Peering down at her, you notice abruptly how wide her eyes are.

"A... demon? But I thought they all went extinct."

"Ohhhh, that. Yeah, I don't get it either. My dumb boss brought a bunch of us back somehow and keeps trying to make us work. Can you believe that? Here I was, having a cozy afterlife nap, and all of a sudden I'm being bossed around by some nobody! Ridiculous." You huffed to yourself.

Ganyu lifted her hand over her lips pensively, looking deep in thought. "I see, so that's the situation. But why did you come here and do... all of this?" She motioned to the now-unconscious woman you had been possessing prior.

"Ummm, because she was being rude? Nobody deserves to have extra work pushed on them like that. That's just cruel." A pouty expression crossed your face, both at the reminder of the mean woman and your work.

"I... see. Um, forgive me for saying this, but I've only heard of demons being, ah, unkind people before. Are you perhaps different from the others?" She peered up at you with her purple eyes.

You scratched the back of your ear. "I don't know. None of us like this new boss guy, so we haven't been exactly doing real demon stuff. Before today, of course." A thought bubbled up in your head.

"Hey, Ganyu?"

"Yes?"

"If I behave and act good and not demony, will you let me stay with you?" As you spoke, you crouched back down to get closer to her, eventually resting on her lap. Once again, your bodies pressed together. You hadn't had any real experience with this physical contact thing before, but it felt good. Addicting, even.

"Oh, uh, I..." Your eyes locked with one another's, energy buzzing in the air. "I suppose that's alright?"

Your face lit up with excitement. Finally, you'd be able to get away from stupid work and have a happy, simple life—with plenty of sugar, of course. Now, what's that thing you've seen humans do sometimes? They get close then...

"Thank you, Ganyu! I promise I'll be a good demon for you." Mimicking human behavior you've seen before, you pushed your lips onto hers. It felt warm, soft, and like nothing you've experienced before. Like a home you'd never had, and one you'll never let go of.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #ganyu #genshin ganyu #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #demon reader

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jackwolfes · 2 months ago

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@febuwhump day 24: pinned down Wesper | Six of Crows (Show!Verse) | TW: non consensual drugging febuwhump masterlist

The novice has been acting weird for hours.

They walk along beneath the Barrel’s multi-coloured lanterns in costumes that blend in with the crowd. Jesper rambles on about unimportant things, trying to get a rise out of him or even an eye-roll, but he doesn't seem willing to bite tonight.

Since their little stint under a rat carriage, Jesper hasn't really known what to do with him. Frankly it's kind of hard to look at the boy without remembering what Jesper had so stupidly forgotten. The way that fluffy bird nest of brown hair looked splayed against a pillow, for one, or the fact his steadfast blushing looked even more alluring when it was the result of Jesper touching him.

His cheeks are red now, for some reason, even though Jesper hasn't said anything that suggestive since they hit the Lid. Under the Madman mask covering his eyes, the flush stains his supple, freckled skin.

Jesper supposes it isn't that unusual for the kid to be so tense; he usually is before jobs that involve something this illegal. But at the same time, Jesper doesn't really get it.

The canal splits four or five shopfronts ahead of them, which is where they'll part ways for the next hour to blend into the city's sins. His own heart races as he readies himself for inevitable danger, craving it more and more with each step.

They come to the place they're due to diverge. Jesper sends Wylan one last glance. “No mourners.”

But all Wylan offers in return is a barely intelligible mumble.

Jesper's feet stutter, startled out of his own excited anticipation by that lack of a response. Before he can say anything about it Wylan ducks his head and veers away, starting to press through the packed crowd much as he was meant to. Unless Jesper wants to end up on the other side of Kaz’s bad temper, he should do the exact same thing in the other direction. Really, pissing off Kaz Brekker of all people should not be at the top of his list of things to do.

He shoves through a gaggle of tourists after the novice with his heart in his throat.

It proves upsettingly difficult to keep the kid in his sights, but the Barrel has always been a maze of canals and they may have done too good of a job blending in with everyone else around them. Why the hell did the novice have to be so damn short?

Regardless, after only a couple of bridges Jesper loses him entirely. He has to stop at the end of one of Ketterdam’s smaller alleyways and curse vehemently — at Wylan, at Kaz’s stupid plan, at his own fucking idiocy. The last object of his irritation burns brightest like a beacon. Guilt festers.

From behind him, he hears a rumbling chuckle.

Jesper doesn’t know what to expect when he looks over his shoulder.

Jesper creeps closer as subtly as he can, fingers itching to reach for his pistols. Between the looming buildings it isn’t easy to make out detail, but he’s been Kaz’s lieutenant for long enough to recognise the Dime Lion mark from afar. There are two of them crouched on the ground with what looks like a dead body beneath them, except the closer Jesper gets the more clearly he can see the way the third body wriggles and squirms.

One of the Dime Lions kneels on their chest — they were the one who chuckled — while the second looms over them, pinning their arms down above their head. Beneath the low roll of chatter and mocking laughter, the way they whimper rings clear as day. The familiar glint of a metal gun pressed punishingly against their throat is obvious even to Jesper. This is no boring attempt at a mugging, that’s for—

The toe of Jesper’s boot connects with something hard, sending it skittering across the stones. Jesper freezes. When he looks down a beaked mask stares back at him, right beside an uncannily familiar pair of goggles.

Understanding is sudden, violent and cold.

He whips his head back up just for his gaze to land instantly and unsettlingly on the undeniably familiar form of Wylan Hendriks.

Their eyes meet. Wylan’s lips part.

“Hey!”

Fuck.

There is a split second moment for Jesper to make a decision and — useless skiv that he is — he misses his chance. The bruiser kneeling on Wylan’s chest has a pistol pointed in Jesper’s direction before the gravity of his fuck up even registers. Jesper bites down hard on his tongue, hearing nothing but Kaz’s voice in his head calling him a useless waste of space. Or, nothing but that and the sickening echo Wylan’s whimpering.

Jesper opens his mouth, not sure what the hell he can say to get out of this, right as a jolly, good-natured laugh fills the space between them.

The Dime Lion lowers their gun, pointing it lazily back at Wylan. “Saints, I never thought you’d show up, Pieter.”

It takes a second for Jesper to realise they’re talking to him, but his stomach lurches as soon as they do. He can see Wylan’s wide eyes staring up at him from the muddy ground, foggy and dazed but still clearly terrified. Now that his mask is off Jesper can see the sheen of clammy sweat on his face.

“We found one of Brekker’s little lackeys,” the second Dime Lion croons. They trail a tauntingly gentle hand over the curve of Wylan’s forehead. He twitches away and whimpers again, but can’t go far with the weight pressing him down into the ground. “He took so nicely to that brew you made up, don’t you think? Barely even put up a fight when we grabbed him.”

Jesper’s stomach rolls. Whatever brew they might have slipped to Wylan explains an awful lot about the past hour. It’s almost impossible for Jesper not to feel like it’s somehow his fault.

Forcing himself to laugh anyway, he saunters over. He’s the best damn sharpshooter the Barrel’s ever seen and one hell of a quick draw, but he can’t compete with a pistol basically pressed flush with Wylan’s throat.

The first clambers to their feet, tipping their head down at Wylan’s vulnerable form. “We saved you the fun part. Guess he’s your prize, ain’t he?”

“I’ll have him if you don’t want him,” the second adds. “I know you were hoping for Dirtyhand’s sharpshooter.”

Jesper comes to a stop beside them, looking down at Wylan. How likely is it that he can recognise Jesper behind the mask? Not very.

His mouth tastes like bile as he drops down to kneel astride Wylan’s chest, even more sickening for the way Wylan barely even struggles. Jesper can feel him tugging uselessly against the hands holding him down and stares into his brown eyes, blown wide with fear, trying to think. Rain is soaking into the knees of his trousers.

What the hell do they expect him to do?

“Give me your gun,” says Jesper, putting out a hand.

The Dime Lion on his feet chuckles. “Not bringing out the knife tonight?”

“Not for this one,” Jesper replies.

“Shame,” the second one says. They trace a finger slowly over the underside of Wylan’s chin, grinning when he tries to shy away. “He’d look so nice with a nice long cut here, don’t you think?”

“The gun,” Jesper repeats, voice acidic.

Below his weight Jesper feels the panicked rhythm of Wylan’s breathing as he all but hyperventilates. Whether or not he's been drugged doesn't matter: the fear he feels is obvious, visceral and real. Jesper hates himself for feeding into it, wondering how he’ll ever be able to ask Wylan to forgive him for this.

The weight of a pistol in Jesper’s hand is a deadly reassurance. He spins it, inhales, and shoots both Dime Lions in the same breath. Their bodies hit the floor with a heavy thud that makes Wylan flinch.

Jesper shoots to his feet as soon as they’re down, hoisting Wylan up after him as well as he can with the way the novice struggles. His whole body is trembling, the back of his costume drenched with rainwater and mud, and he begins to desperately try and shake his head.

“Please,” he slurs, “please, p-please don’t—”

Jesper tightens his grip on Wylan’s bicep a heartbeat before he slips out of consciousness and lurches towards the ground. With a sharp curse Jesper grabs him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Wylan is too limp like this, too vulnerable.

Too damn pretty.

“Saints,” Jesper finally mutters. He looks up and down the alley, wondering how the hell he’s going to get an unconscious demo man all the way back down to the bottom of the Barrel.

At least he’ll have a good long while to come up with an excuse to tell Kaz why he bailed on the job.

#jesper fahey #wylan van eck #six of crows #sab netflix #netflix shadow and bone #wesper #febuwhump #dgb does febuwhump 2025 #fics

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kale-of-the-forbidden-cities · 1 year ago

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Just thinking about Fitz and Keefe. They're both so jealous of each other. It spiraled into more and more talking about fitz and vacker imperfections and stuff, enjoy :>

(I rambled out the draft on discord, but I did change a few things and add on a bit at the end, so if you feel like rereading it might make more sense now)

tw: breif mentions of ed, suicidal thoughts, and implied sh, but they're all like very brief and not descriptive just want to put a warning

Remember in Flashback when Sophie and Fitz were going all Fitzphie on Keefe's mind, and they found the memory of Alden telling Keefe he was proud?

Imagine it hurt so bad for Fitz when he watched that. Because Alden never says that to Fitz even when he came out on top, no matter how perfect he was, so why did Keefe get that kind of praise?

Keefe may have come out second to Fitz with Foxfire grades, but Fitz has always felt second to Keefe in everything. No matter how perfect he tries to be or how much of a people pleaser he is, it seems inevitable that everyone likes Keefe better anyway.

And how could they not? He's funny, he's messy, he's imperfect.

Fitz could never be like keefe. His family would hate him. But they still like Keefe better.

Alvar always liked Keefe better than his actual little brother. Even though Fitz looked up to Alvar more than anyone! He admitted that in Neverseen!

Alden told Keefe he was proud of him?? for coming in second? Even after all the studying and work Fitz put into being first, being top, being perfect, people always choose keefe, Which is one of the reasons Fitz was so insecure about Sophie spending a lot of time with Keefe while she and Fitz were dating, he was scared she was going to leave him for Keefe, like people always do, because he's just better. he's nicer, he doesn't lash out at people, he doesn't have as much pressure on him because he never cared about pleasing his parents.

AND SHE DID! Sophie did leave him for Keefe. Even though Fitz promised to take things at her pace. Even though he said he'd wait. But it was the match lists that ended up breaking them apart. But what was Fitz supposed to do?? Not care about the match? There had never been a Vacker bad match, and Fitz beign the first one, after everything Alvar did and how much all the Vackers already hate these five in particular, it would bring a whole new level of shame on the family. Not just him, but Biana and Alden and Della too.

Keefe is allowed to not care about this stuff, because he's not perfect. Fitz is so, so, so jealous of Keefe because he GETS TO BE IMPERFECT. HE'S ALLOWED TO MAKE MISTAKES. He's allowed to feel things.

Keefe's parents are awful, Fitz's parents are fine. Anytime Fitz dares to think "hey maybe my parents are manipulating or using me or putting unrealistic expectations on me" he also remembers that he has it GOOD. He's so lucky compared to everyone else. So he has no right to be upset about anything.

In Flashback, Fitz actually says something like this to Sophie: Sophie had to grow up with humans, Keefe has his whole thing with his parents, Dex was bullied for being the son of a bad match, Tam and Linh were banished… so he's had it easy! He has no right to feel sad when his life is just. so. perfect.

And the thing is, everyone thinks his life is perfect. Especially Keefe! Keefe is always talking about how the Vackers are perfect and lucky and he wishes he was one, when inside, Fitz would secretly rather be Keefe. Even with the whole everything with his parents, at least he doesnt have to be perfect! At least he's allowed to disappoint his parents, because theyre bad parents! And people always like him more. Without fail, Fitz has always felt second to Keefe. Every time he thinks he did good, people go to keefe for being imperfect.

Why did keefe get Alden's praise when he came out second in the level? Fitz barely slept to make sure he came out on top! If Fitz had gotten 98/100, he wouldn't be yelled at, but he'd get a disappointed talk. Why is it different with Keefe, who isnt even Alden's son, why does Alden like him more?

So Fitz ends up spiraling and obsessing more and more.

He can't be imperfect like Keefe, he wouldnt dare. So he does what he can to be as perfect as possible. Maybe he just needs to get a hold on his temper. Wait till he's behind closed doors to do anything but smile. Maybe he needs to eat less, get a perfect number on the scale. Maybe then he'll be good enough.

But he's never good enough.

Nothing he does will ever be good enough.

Keefe is reckless, imperfect, and messy. but even though Fitz does his best to not step a toe out of line, he does everything he can to be perfect...... They keep picking Keefe. without fail, no matter what.

Fitz knows he shohld accept defeat, accept that he'll never be good enough for anyone because of everything he's done to try to be perfect, but he can't stop trying.

He'll keep pushing himself, he'll stay up for hours studying, looking for clues about the Neverseen, going through Alvar's old room, he'll do ANYTHING for someone to say theyre proud of him. For someone to tell him that he did good, for once in his life, but they never notice.

It's never "Wow, you've been working so hard, good job!" or "You look good, did you lose weight?" or "Thanks for helping out, thanks for at least trying"

EVEN THOUGH HE DOES NOTHING BUT TRY. HE'S TRYING SO HARD

Instead, people are saying things like "You look awful, you've got bags under your eyes" (maybe he should put on some makeup to hide that) or "You never join us for dinner, it's like you hate us" (he does. he secretly hates his family so much) or "You've gotten so distant that you're ruining all your relationships with your friends and family" (what else is he supposed to do? they dont like him anyway)

He's driving himself insane over being perfect, only to have people like Sophie say that he's "too perfect." HE JUST CANT WIN!

He's not allowed to make mistakes, but maybe the worst mistake he made was being too perfect!

But how does he stop?

He can't. he trapped himself here. He's convinced he brought this on himself, but he cant get out of this cycle,

And nobody else will get him out,

Because he's not perfect enough.

If they havent noticed his struggling, maybe they dont care enough. But Fitz has gotten so good at hiding it. Nobody will notice until he passes out in the hall or just fucking kills himself because it's too much.

Fitz thinks, why is it that Keefe's allowed to be open about hating himself, and yet as soon as he makes the slightest self deprecating comment, he's suddenly "being dramatic" or "looking for attention"?

And we're back to talking about Keefe again.

None of this is Keefe's fault but he will still feel so so guilty. He felt Fitz's jealousy and hurt when they watched the memory of Alden saying he's proud of him.

Keefe and Fitz are constantly comparing themselves to each other, but by the end of the story, Keefe will be getting the help and support he needs to move on from it. Fitz never showed it and wouldnt dare admit it. So he does not.

Alden and Cassius both seem to prefer the other's son.

Even with Fitz and Biana. There's still a bit of jealousy there, because Biana is starting to seperate herself from her family, and start her own "Vacker Legacy," whatever that means.

After Nightfall, biana has grown more comfortable with herself, she is challenging what it means to be a Vacker, realizing that their family isn't all it's claimed to be. She has no shame in being her fun confident self, and crying when she needs to, and showing off her scars, while if Fitz showed his scars, he'd probably end up in a psych ward or something (or at the very least getting yelled at).

Fitz is jealous of Biana almost as much as he's jealous of keefe. She's never been quite perfect either, but it's always in a good way, isn't it? she's managed to keep her friends (not including the earlier books) and she used to be a bit of a jerk to people, so people can look back and see how far she's come.

Fitz has only gotten worse over the years, and he knows it. he hears what people say in the halls. their whispers hardly hide it. He's presented himself the way he wanted to be - perfect. But it gets harder and harder to hide his imperfections, and people only notice the bad things, don't they? They don't worry, they only judge.

Biana's probably dealing with her own issues, as everyone in the Vacker family does, but she can be more honest about it. She's starting to break the habit of plastering on a smile and saying everything's fine. She's working on her relationship with people. She's like reverse Fitz.

Fitz fears he's going down a similar path of destruction to Alvar, but he counters those fears by being Alden's perfect golden boy like he was always supposed to be. Alden has such a hold on Fitz, he'd do anything for him if Alden worded it right. Ever since he was a kid he always knew he'd do anything to please his parents, even if it was potentially dangerous. But nobody has seemed to even bat an eye when they hear how young Fitz was when he went to the Forbidden Cities. So he must be overreacting, right? Because how could Fitz's childhood be anything less than perfect?

See, when Sophie started learning a little bit about Fitz's past and how things were actually not perfect in the Vacker house, she started to ignore him more and more. She had her other reasons, but to Fitz, it seemed like she was seeing how imperfect he really was, and he's not everything she hoped for. So he panics, and does his best to prove to her that he is the perfect boyfriend she wanted, but it didn't matter anyway because... she. liked. Keefe. better.

And Fitz hates himself so much for wishing he was keefe because Keefe has it so bad with the legacy thing, he hates how he wishes his parents were worse so he didn't feel so guilty every time he made a mistake that would disappoint them.

Not one person in Fitz's life has ever chosen him first. With everyone. There's always someone they love more.

Della loves Biana more, Biana chooses her friends, Sophie chose Keefe, Keefe chose Sophie.

Alden seemed to favor Keefe, or his work, or even just the ways he uses Fitz instead of loving him as his son or as a person. Maybe that's why Fitz is so desperate to listen to Alden, to please him, because he's the only person who seems to even care, even if he only cares when he's doing good or being perfect.

Alvar would choose Biana or Keefe over Fitz any day, even before the betrayal. Fitz still looked up to him, despite his vague dislike for Fitz. He likes Biana better because he thinks she'd understand better what the Vacker legacy is, Because FITZ IS PART OF IT. HE'S ADDING ONTO IT, WHATEVER IT IS!

Yep that's all I have, feel free to add your own ideas :3

tags:

@fitz-avery-vacker @autistic-daydreamer

#kotlc #kotlc fitz #fitz vacker #kotlc vackers #kotlc alden #alden vacker #kotlc alvar #alvar vacker #kotlc della #della vacker #kotlc biana #biana vacker #kotlc headcanons

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screamingfromuz · 2 years ago

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People have tried a few approaches to get through to you. I'm going to try another. Why do you think this attack was such a surprise in Israel but not to anyone else on earth? When I ask people I know IRL (In the UK) about this, they say, "I'm shocked by what Hamas are doing but what did Israel expect to happen?" Outside Israel it's clear to everyone that the Gaza Strip situation was going to lead to something like this. You've known about Gaza your whole life, you've know that situation was festering for decades, so why the surprise? How did you think this would end?

i'm emotional, so you won't get a good well researched and structured answer, but an emotional ramble. but you don't want a well researched and organized answer, you want me to cave in call israel a monster colonizer and praise the "brave palestinian freedom fighters". fuck you. or say something you can use to prove how bad all israelis are and how good all palestinians are.

do you know what happened back in the 90s when the news of peace talk broke? the amount of attacks against Israelis grew, the death toll grew. in the four years after the accords the death doll doubled. Palestinian authorities celebrated that "israel gave so much without getting back like fools" and "the only good thing that came out of the accords was the intifada".

so I turn the fucking question to you? what is Israel supposed to do? who are we to talk to to reach peace? or should it dissolve? turn power on my life to people who stated they would like to kill or expel all the Jews? give more resources to a terrorist group? you saw where they put the money they get.

why the fuck do you think Israel exist? because we learned that we can never be free nor safe to be ourselves under the control of others. do you know that between 1948-1951 about 300000 MENA Jews became refugees? and the only reason nobody cares is because Israel took them in, while the whole arab world was happy to leave the Palestinians to rot. do you want a fucking list of every atrocity that was made during this conflict? because both sides have a very long one and the big difference is that Israel fucking won the 1948 war!

and of-fucking-coarse we knew something big was gonna happen! it was in the news for months! people have been screaming at the assholes in charge for so long! it doesn't make it less horrifying! it doesn't matter that we knew that Hamas are stealing all the recourse to make missiles and are going to take advantage of the chaos in israel, it doesn't matter that our extremists are feeding their extremists, cause IT DOESN'T MAKE IT FUCKING RIGHT! we knew Hamas will do some horrid war crime but didn't want to think that people will take whole cities hostage and kidnap and murder hundreds! nobody wanted it to become a fucking war you piece of condescending shit!

we wanted the sane people of both sides to take over and work together! we were hoping to use the near municipal elections to get people who support cooperative living in to the city councils so we can change stuff for the better and fight the anti peace movements of both sides! and maybe gain enough power so in the next parliamentarian elections we will get some decent people that would kickstart the peace process and support palestinian communities into the cabinet! do you know how hard we worked to support Israeli-Palestinian lists for the municipal races? how much effort is put by people to try and make things better?

so i'm gonna ask you again, what was Israel supposed to fucking do?

and If you say "to stop existing" I want you to know that you just exposed yourself as a supporter of genocide.

#israel #jumblr #ישראבלר #palestine #ישראל #antisemitism #I do not support all of isral's actions #but sometimes you have to understand why those choices are made #i am so tired #some of you are just...#stupid #tw war #tw war crimes #refugees #tw genocide #8/10/2023 #steal swords #2023 war

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lyssala · 1 year ago

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I was trying to figure out They are stuck in my mind at all times and when I was thinking, I realized oh OH they're the same picture. So really I apparently just have a trope hierarchy to which if you resemble Roy/Riza in anyway you skyrocket to the top of my list.

Some ramblings about Clorinde/Wriothesley under the cut because I have no where else to do it. I'm sorry to all the people who've been my followers for years and I literally just come here once a year to drop a ship fixation LOL Here's my big dose of copium I guess 🤣

(For the record, I have nothing against the popular pairings for either of them; I multiship just fine. There isn't an ounce of ship bashing in this because 1. that's rude lol 2. discrediting canonical relationships because they threaten the chances of my pair being on top defeats the purpose of analyzing characters)

(Updated: 8/25 just to acknowledge a few other various things before the end of the Fontaine era)

Roy & Wriothesley: fight using their hands (in different ways but still; fire and ice though); masks their true goals behind a facade (whether staged like Roy or Wriothesley just letting people believe what they want about him); most people don't know their true personality/history; hold a position of power in what most people assume is ambition but really they just want to do good to those who need it.

Riza & Clorinde: observant/quiet personality; the world's best shot; the best poker face; straight faced humor; tough as nails; sass and teasing is a love language; recognized as the top of their respective fields and respected by many.

It's uncanny right??

1. Familiar With One Another

It's so clear they have history together. This is not their first mission, first interaction. They can read the lines between what is being said to understand something more, that is the definition of knowing and understanding how someone operates. It means some kind of history.

Between her greeting upon walking in the room (Clorinde: What's that look on your face? I thought I made good time on the way back.) and her knowing how he is about tea (Wriothesley: Want some tea? Clorinde: Not particularly. If you want to drink some that badly, just say so.) Those are not things you would know/say if you don't know a person. She knows he's giving her a weird look, or a look she wasn't expecting. He offers tea, and instead of saying no thank you, she's just no, but I know you do and you don't need me as an excuse 🤣

Even when he clarifies for her that he does want tea, he asks her again, maybe knowing she does actually like it but only if he's already making it - which I do all the time to Ren LOL (Wriothesley: Fine, I'd like to get some tea. Want me to get you a cup too, since I've already made it?) and that time she agrees (Clorinde: Eh, might as well then, I suppose.)

Idk like these are people who know each other. They know their quirks and their mannerisms. They talk to each other as equals (he doesn't question when she's telling the Duke wtf are you looking at me like that I'm right on time, and he's just like I know you're right on time you always are) I just think that's a big deal??

During the wrap-up of the main story quest, when talking to Charlotte when Clorinde is dodging interview attempts and Charlotte guesses how Clorinde knew Charlotte had an interview at Meropide (Clorinde: In truth, all Monsieur Neuvillette asked me was "When did the Fortress become so friendly towards the media?" I told him that it was best not to speak too soon — there's no guarantee that Wriothesley will make a personal appearance). It's likely that Clorinde was in the room when Neuvillette spoke the question aloud, but I also like him going up to her just to ask her like she'd know the answer to what Wriothesley was doing. I mean, she did still know the answer: that just because Charlotte had an interview, Wriothesley probably wouldn't show up. She knows he hates publicity as much as Clorinde does - I do have to imagine its because they've talked about it, they're friends.

In that same scene, Clorinde says to Navia that she seems interested in the Fortress, and Navia says duh, but that man gave me a headache (Navia: Of course! Ugh, that Wriothesley... I still remember going down to the Fortress to grill him for information on my father's case. Boy, did he take me for a ride... without telling me anything, of course). Clorinde then is like, yeah, but he invited you to tea, and it was good, right? (Clorinde: But he did invite you to tea, didn't he? Navia: Two large pots of it, in fact — it was good tea, though. Clorinde: I have to agree. The tea there is very good). My girl, how much time do you spend down there to know he'll habitually ask and that it's always good. Also, lol, the fact that she gave him such a hard time saying no, I don't want any tea, but if you want it, I'll have it, but then to Navia, Clorinde is much more straightforward about how good his tea is because she isn't teasing Navia.

Then of course their bets. (Wriothesley: I win this bet. You owe me a present. Clorinde: Very well, it was indeed just as you said.) This is a thing they do and apparently have done before. She literally talks about how much he gets into it, implying she's learned to go along with it because she knows he enjoys it.

My girl MY GIRL how do you know what kind of gifts he likes, or that he enjoys it all if you haven't done this a million times (Clorinde: Wriothesley gets really invested in that sort of thing. But he couldn't care less about what he wins in the end. Clorinde: You could give him mint plants that you plucked from the side of the road, and he wouldn't even mind). I also have to wonder if the reason he doesn't set a stipulation on what he wants, is because he likes to see what she comes up with, what reminds her of him and that's why he's so happy with anything - that's a little too me with the ship colored glasses on but still (the only other time we see him given a gift he's appreciative, but poor sweet Neuvillette has to explain it first so I can't judge Wriothesley's reaction in comparison).

A smaller thing is Navia always complaining about how hard it is to talk to Wriothesley while Clorinde just bubbles about calling the Duke by his first name and how he likes making bet and loves gifts 🤣 (Navia: If only he was that easygoing when it came to talking business...) I know it's because Wriothesley intentionally avoids Navia due to whatever promise he made with her father. Still, the image of Navia's best friend being super chill with the Duke of Meropide while Navia is exhausted by the thought of talking to him is so superb. Chefs kiss on that dynamic, Hoyo (also can we talk about how the trio of Wrio, Clorinde, and Navia doesn't get nearly enough love and I'm genuinely saddened over that).

I guess one last thing for this section because I don't know where else to fit it, with Wriothesley, to everyone else Clorinde is Miss Clorinde, including to her when they're in public but when Wriothesley is talking to Neuvillette when he's delivering all the gifts, she's just Clorinde (Wriothesley: I have to hand it to Clorinde. Just a simple gift delivery, and she has the great and mighty Iudex at her beck and call.) possibly because Neuvillette would be one of the few people to know they have a relationship outside of work? Though Clorinde is just like oh yeah Wriothesley is just like that in front of a whole slew of people LOL so maybe it's an on work time/off work time thing 🤣 I don't necessarily have a clear analysis but I 💯 noticed it still.

2. Familiar With The Fortress

Moreso for Clorinde since obviously Wriothesley is familiar with it. I think the most clear indication there is for Clorinde spending time down there is through Sigewinne. The official livestream announcement image being a lovely example.

Okay, I know it's because her and Sigewinne were the two new characters and like I said Sigewinne doesn't leave Meropide all too often. Still there were plenty ways to promote them: in the infirmary, in Neuvillette's office (like they did later for her demo/trailer), at the dining hall in Meropide, streets of Fontaine, even no place at all. A choice was made to have them sitting in Wriothesley's office.

I mean Clorinde has to spend a decent amount of time down there??Sigewinne has her drink meaning either Clorinde was comfortable enough to brew Wriothesley's tea or he brewed it for her/them. It's his teas set that sits in his office in game. Again these were choices that were made LOL Clorinde is reading so she's clearly not there for business, just hanging out in his office with Sigewinne.

Also, Clorinde's little smile 🥹 Another is the dolphin (whale? looks dolphin to me) sticker on her book, meaning that Sigewinne made a sticker of Clorinde (like she did with Wriothesley and Neuvillette). Most of all implying that Clorinde is close enough to Sigewinne to get that honor and the fact it's on Clorinde's book, that she spends enough time in Meropide that Sigewinne also likes to stick stickers on Clorinde's things like Sigewinne does to Wriothesley.

Another small thing, was Clorinde in Sigewinne's character trailer. Navia was about to guzzle that tea when Clorinde stopped her like, no, girl, wait. She's 100% had Sigewinne's drink creations before there would be no reason for Clorinde to otherwise stop Navia. And even Clorinde's little cough compare to Navia's big wide eyes of shock lol Clorinde has been through it.

One last thing with Sigewinne is her voiceline about Clorinde and that she's been around Clorinde enough to try to learn how to read her (Sigewinne: Miss Clorinde doesn't make a lot of facial expressions when she talks. It's pretty difficult to tell what mood she's in from what her face is doing...She used the lipstick I gave her? Really? Hee-hee, I'm so glad she likes it! I knew that color would go great on her!). But, Sigewinne also knows her enough to give her gifts - and vice versa (Clorinde: And some tea-flavored hard candies. They're for Sigewinne) - because they're also friends. That can literally only happen if Clorinde has spent time there longer than what we've seen/were told.

Another thing I found so cute about Clorinde's connection to Meropide, was in Clorinde's story quest, when they went to the Meropide set (Clorinde: I admire the work put into the set. Still, it's obvious the script writer has never paid a visit to the Fortress of Meropide). Yes, yes, we know, you're apparently so familiar with it you can tell when details are missing, okay, girl.

A little more of a stretch with some ship goggles on but I can't help but laugh at the image of Clorinde smiling at the prospect of getting to throw her players in Meropide and as GM getting to play Wriothesley's job (Furina: So this set... is going to be a part of the script? Clorinde: Unfortunately, that is something I can neither confirm nor deny. Paimon: Um, anyone think Clorinde's smile is starting to look kinda scary...?). Still sort of unrelated but also Paimon's line in that scene was adorable too - if only there were snacks in prison...oh, there are if the Duke likes you LOL (Paimon: If only there were desserts and tea in real prison... Oh, wait, guess that's kind of how the Fortress of Meropide works if you're lucky.)

3. Same Sense of Humor

Their humor too omg they have like the same brand of humor and it's fantastic and because it's so dry; poor Neuvillette is always just like and you what now? LOL (Clorinde: He already has tons of tea in his office. I'm thinking about a set of legal codices. Wriothesley: That wouldn't happen to be a dig at my lack of legal awareness, would it... Clorinde: I'm sure His Grace doesn't consider the Fortress to be outside the law.)

Which she brings up again in her voiceline (Clorinde: I highly suspect that he keeps quiet about some of the methods he uses, but there's no way we can know) teasing again that he operates outside the law. The other thing about this line (though I don't put it very high, it could be a translation thing) but that she switches from I highly suspect to no way we can know. Why she didn't just say no way I can know, is probably because she does know or she knows she could know if she asked LOL

One of my favorite examples is from his character stories because omg I feel like it's the definition of their humor and it makes me laugh so much ("Why does it feel like you have even more free time than me? Your title wasn’t bought, was it?"

"One moment, please."

So saying, Wriothesley rifled through three drawers before producing several thick documents with a flourish. "Now, let me see... 'excellent management'... 'leading tax contributor'... 'specially granted this title...' Well, what do you know? Good guess, that's pretty much what happened after all.") I just feel like she's not afraid to challenge him with jabs as jokes and he's perfectly fine to take it. But I also think that's saying something because who else knows that they can poke fun at him like that, she knows because she knows him.

4. Work Life Together

I just wish Hoyo would tell us more about it 😩 like is it just because he hires her to do stuff for him? How did that start? Why? Even in the character story above, it's said it was over a business transaction what does that meaaaan? There's no way he, woke up one way and went, you know what time to hire this one Champion Duelist (she's the best but she's still not the only one) to do some secret missions.

When asked, he said it's because she's an independent party (Wriothesley: As a Champion Duelist, Miss Clorinde can be considered to be an independent party. I needed to find an exceptionally capable person to help me get through the impending crisis) but I mean she works for the court idk how that makes her independent? He does say "crisis" so it's likely she knew about a lot of the things going on ahead of time but I don't think he would have ever just hired someone just because of their station. Mainly because in doing so, he trusted her to be in his inner circle of the plan with Sigewinne - who Clorinde also has a relationship with as I went through already - and Neuvillette, two people we know Wriothesley does have canonical history with.

I saw someone say that Clorinde was already staying down there at the time already working with Wriothesley on the mission, so it was easy for her to get Freminet, but I couldn't ever find what in canon pointed to that. She was staying after at least, she was eating dinner there but they weren't expecting the gate to blow that night. You'd assume she'd leave after she told him everything he needed to know. But no it's like middle of the night/early morning and she's right down there with him. So part of the crisis he referred to is letting her in on one of the biggest secrets of Meropide because she knew exactly what to do and was ready and willing to do it.

I also really love Navia's voice line about him because it says that Clorinde knows what the arraignment he had with Callas was otherwise she wouldn't have told Navia it was okay (Navia: Trying to discuss anything with that guy is an exhausting process. Clorinde says I needn't have any reservations about collaborating with him in the scope of our preexisting agreement, but I still shouldn't trust everything that comes out of his mouth.) I imagine Clorinde bullying it out of him to make sure if was a safe arraignment for Navia (and maybe upon learning what it was and how it came about could've been the early steps in how Clorinde learned to trust him too because it's mutual - she's not a mercenary, she takes jobs with him because she also trusts him and what he does). But I also imagine that bit about not trusting a word that comes from his mouth (since Wriothesley hasn't ever lied that I recall, he hides things very well and doesn't clarify to make things appear certain ways, but I don't recall him flat out being deceitful) is either 1. Clorinde teasing him to Navia without her even knowing but it gives Clorinde a little amusement 2. She knows that man is gonna run his mouth one day to tease her and she's laying the foundations now so Navia won't listen to him 🤣

Or Clorinde is helping him keep his mysterious and bad boy persona because she knows he's actually a big softie - all wins to me lol because I genuinely can't see her believing he's untrustworthy; she literally risked her life to stay with him while they waited for Neuvillette, that doesn't sound like a person you didn't trust. Because again as far as I know a Champion Duelist is still not a mercenary.

5. Battle Couple

Which leads me back into my original Roy and Riza comparison, the way they fight together (Wriothesley: Clorinde is the best Champion Duelist you can find. Her combat prowess is already the stuff of legend. I've never fought her myself, but that's because there's never been a need for it.) I saw someone point out how does he know this when he'd likely have to make a special trip just to see her fight. I imagine some is word of mouth considering the phrasing of stuff of legend. Regardless of how he knew initially, he knows now because they've fought together before. He's never fought her, like he said, but they're fought side by side.

They had to. I'm sorry, this is not the delulu brain worms, you cannot tell me they didn't.

They likely had some sort of plan otherwise idk how she would know to shoot the door controls, but she's watching him from a distance, sees his signal of a simple nod and proceeds (she nods back to him but I couldn't find a gif that included it). I say because they didn't know what was going to happen; the plan was probably if it looks bad, shoot the controls I don't care where I am. I don't think it was as specific as I'll just give you a nod it's fine. He could've shouted, made a bigger motion, lots of things really - he didn't because he was literally running for his life and he knew she was watching, she'd see him and know what to do that's why I bring it up. That's why I refuse to believe they've never fought/worked side by side before, you don't just read people like that; you don't just trust people like that, especially two people who it's in their job description to be sus and careful with who you trust. You read faces, eyes, subtle signals from people you know and trust.

It reminded me so much of Roy and Riza in this scene when she can't speak from her injury and he is about to lose his mind and all she needs to do is move her eyes and he gets it.

(I mean, Roy and Riza have literally a lifetime of history, experience, and love for one another, I don't think Wriothesley and Clorinde have known each other as long or have that rich a history, but all I'm saying is I keep seeing them in each other, okay? Okay).

6. Similarities in Story and Interests

I threw this one down at the bottom because I’m not sure if they’re aware of their own similarities. It’s more meta in the sense I see the similarities without having canon to tell me that they know how similar they are. The first being the most obvious in that they were both orphaned as babies, and then were raised with foster parents/guardians until Clorinde was 10 and Wriothesley was a teen (Clorinde at least getting the better deal in that her Master who took her in was unconventional but seemingly cared for Clorinde unlike Wriothesley who had the rug ripped out from under him to see the truth of his family). Clorinde then presumably was looked after by Callas and Wriothesley grew up in Meropide. Both don’t talk about their personal lives often, but in both they’re story quests, they talk about their past pretty openly. So its possible they know, but because Hoyo is too afraid to put them in the same room again, I can’t say.

They also both hate newspapers and paparazzi. Clorinde talks about why she likes Charlotte by alluding to what other journalists put Clorinde through (Clorinde: Unlike some, [Charlotte] doesn't ambush me with her Kamera on my way to work, or follow me to the coffee shop to report on what I'm drinking today... And most commendably of all, she is well aware that I do not do interviews and doesn't nag me about it continuously). Wriothesley we know also turns down interviews frequently (Charlotte: And that's exactly why I'd like you to come conduct interviews with me. You're the best incubators of news, if you haven't noticed — and also, with you around, I'm sure I'll get to see that Duke. Paimon: Are you sure? Hasn't he turned you down several times already?). I imagine its because both have been victims of the journalists turning on them for a front page story (I’m sure everything with Callas was sensationalized, same with Wriothesley when he was a teen and also probably just how criminals are depicted in journalism to begin with).

The last bit comes from the Fontaine Tour Group video since so far the only two playable characters who have displayed knowledge on Remuria. Wriothesley both in the Archon Quests and his Friendship stories (Wriothesley: Then maybe you haven't heard of the story of ancient Remuria. To give you a quick rundown, Fontaine used to be ruled by the Remurian Dynasty) and Clorinde in the Fontaine Tour Group video (Clorinde: …oh, they have a Conch Harp here? Navia: Something wrong? Clorinde: It’s nothing. Probably dates back to the days of Remuria, that’s all). In the video, Navia clearly had listened to Clorinde talk about it because she remembered the connection but she also couldn’t even remember the name after Clorinde just said it, so it’s clearly not common knowledge. I imagine Clorinde was taught about it with her Master due to the ties to the Marechaussee Hunters and Clorinde’s clear love of history. But I also can’t imagine that Clorinde and Wriothesley never discussed both having interests/knowledge in the same niche era of Fontaine’s history. We know that she knew about the splice gate, so I also imagine she knew about the Winglet and therefore they absolutely would’ve talked about Fontaine history and folklore together.

And So

One thing I've seen a lot in this fandom, when others are trying to discredit a ship they try to give proof of pairs that are "more canon" and I didn't do this to try and say they have more canon standing. They aren't seen together all that often, and sometimes we just have to pull the crumbs out of our own analysis and that's okay. I don't like the phrase "more canon" because its canon or its not lol Being in more scenes together doesn't make a pairing more canon unless they're in the scene confessing their love verbally or physically. It just means they have a relationship, whether that's friendship, familial or romantic. How you see a relationship is up to you and you aren't wrong (because there is no right answer - n o s h i p i s c a n o n).

When it comes to Clorinde and Wriothesley, I don't know if Hoyo will ever put them in the same room together again (though they gave me enough crumbs that I need to now clarify pictured/interacting in the same room lol). They're just gonna give us a Character like Wriothesley and just leave him down there to never interact with people 😭 Clorinde's story quest didn't even touch on her being a Champion Duelist. I still have so many questions.

I’m a little peeved with Hoyo to be honest which is a whole other conversation I’ll have on how we went from some of the best storytelling and some of the best characters into some of the blandest storytelling and complete wasted potential. Nothing will make me stop loving what I loved about Fontaine, but it’s incredibly frustrating also feeling like I was lied to my face only because Hoyo caved to fanservice (which is how it looks), completely erasing character stories and relationships they established in the first place.

ALAS, with the new region on the horizon, maybe we’ll finally see some peace as the fandom moves on to a new region. We’ll just have to speculate and answer the questions for ourselves <3

In any regard, I wrote up all this to (cope because I adore them and I run out of content to satisfy my intake on a daily basis) hopefully make someone else also feel better that no, no one was crazy for thinking these two had that good fucking chemistry, because it radiated off the goddamn screen. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💙 Also, oh my fucking god I thought that after being in with Genshin since version 1.3 I already had my hyperfixation period back in Liyue nope the fucking prison warden and trial by combat champion decided to ruin my life.

#wriorinde #genshin impact #clorinde #Wriothesley #dont @ me if you read it and dont like it I am not subtle about what this is lol #also just my own thoughts and readings #i enjoy breaking down scenes and lines in this case also character lore and voicelines #updated post Clorinde story quest #not Sigewinne's I got impatient lol

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ticklygiggles · 1 year ago

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You've got a friend in me pt. 3 | Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Hinata & Reader

A/N: First fic from new commissions made by always kind and wonderful Max (@wertzunge)! As always, I apologize for the delay, but I hope you enjoy this fic Max! Thank you so much for always being so kind to me! ❤️

Words: 3k+

Summary: On a little school trip to Kyoto, Hinata seems to be very excited to have you around, but a certain freckled boy seemed to be a bit... upset.

Male!Reader. You can read part 1 and part 2 of this series!

The weather was beautiful: clear skies, warm sun and fresh air. Perfect for this trip to Kyoto. Your heart fluttered like a small caged bird inside your chest, the excitement ran through you from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. It was your first time on a school trip to Kyoto- this was supposed to be an educational trip, (something about history? You really couldn't recall), but your teachers had promised a free day for the students to go wherever they pleased.

Yamaguchi and you had decided on doing some research about the places you both would like to visit and prepare an itinerary for that day. For this, you've decided to sit together, wanting to plan everything as soon as possible. You really couldn't wait to get into the bus!

“Aren't you excited?!” A voice chirped behind you and you jumped slightly when you felt a soft poke near your left side.

Turning around, your lips stretched into a smile. “I feel like I'm gonna explode, Shouyou!”

Having made friends with a certain piece of sunshine did nothing to help relax your excitement. You had not long become friends with Hinata Shouyou. It was to be expected that by visiting Yamaguchi and Tsukishima so much at their volleyball practices, they would eventually introduce you to the rest of the team. Everyone had been exceptionally kind, but Hinata seemed attached to you from day one. You couldn't lie, at first Hinata's overflowing and bright energy made you feel terribly nervous, but it didn't take long for you to adapt to it and soon you became good friends.

Hinata was practically jumping on one foot with excitement. He rambled on about this and that and you could only nod with a smile, but in a second he was gone and was now fighting with Kageyama. Those two were certainly a very fun duo to watch, you chuckled and squealed when yet another poke to your side surprised you.

“Did you do your research?”

Turning around again, the biggest grin pulled at the corners of your lips. Yamaguchi was looking at you with a smile just as bright.

“I did!” You hurriedly pulled out a notepad from the side of your bag. “I made a very detailed list with cons and pros about each place!” You said excitedly. “We can compare our research!”

Yamaguchi nodded, chuckling a little and your cheeks flushed slightly. “That sounds like a good idea! Don't forget we'll seat together so we can-”

“Ack!”

You nearly dropped your notepad when someone suddenly hooked their arm around yours, dragging you away from Yamaguchi.

“H-Huh?! Shouyou?!”

“C'mon, c'mon!” He said, all smiles and laughs. “You'll sit with me, okay?! Quick! Before they get the best spots!”

“A-Ah, Shouyou- I promised I would- agh!” You looked back at Yamaguchi and he was looking at you with a surprised expression.

“I'm sorry!” You mouthed and you saw his shoulders falling a little as he gave a sad smile and a nod.

Sooner than later you were squeezed between the window and Hinata’s incessant talking. You tried to keep your smile warm and sincere, but something felt heavy in your chest– you had promised Yamaguchi you both would sit together, but now you were with Hinata and Yamaguchi didn't look too happy even though he was sitting with Tsukishima.

You sighed. Well, you hoped you'd get a chance to apologize once you were at the inn. Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and you would be sharing a room after all, so there were plenty of chances to properly apologize and compensate your dear friend… right?

The bus ride didn't seem very long to you. Hinata's mouth just wouldn't shut up and soon he was making you laugh and making you chat animatedly with him. The only time he was silent was when he fell asleep for a few minutes and you were able to watch the scenery out the window. You pushed the small problem with Yamaguchi to the back of your head, it wasn't worth getting overwhelmed by it now when you could deal with it later.

Finally arriving at the inn, the butterflies in your stomach returned. The air in Kyoto even felt different, but maybe it was just you… but was the sky bluer there? Impossible, right? Chuckling to yourself, you started to get off the bus along with everyone else. Hinata practically held you prisoner, clinging tightly to your arm until his bright eyes found Kageyama, and laughing, he said he would see you in a moment.

You started your own search; your eyes scanning the faces in that sea of students in front of you until you found that adorable freckled face. You perked like a little puppy and quickly made your way to him while the teachers did the check in.

“Tadashi!” You called once you were a couple of feet away from him. “Tadashi, I'm so sorry about earlier! I really wanted to sit with you, but Shouyou, he just-"

You jolted when you heard your name screamed at the top of Hinata's lungs. In a moment, the little ball of orange energy was at your side, grabbing your arm and dragging you somewhere.

“What- Shouyou?! I was talking to-

Hinata didn't even listen to you. “C'mon! You can do that later! Let's go see our room!”

Once again, you were dragged away from Yamaguchi without even the chance to look at him one last time before Hinata took you to your room.

–

You expected the room to be big enough to fit four people in, but you certainly didn't expect it to be that big. It was a very spacious room, but modest. The tatami felt extremely comfortable under your feet and four futons were properly arranged. A small wooden table in the middle of the room and some decorations here and there. It was cozy and somehow warm.

“I want this bed!” He called your name as he threw his back somewhere. “You'll sleep next to me, right?!”

You chuckled shyly, “Sh-Shouyou, I think we should let everyone choose where-"

“I want to be the farest away from Hinata as possible.” Tsukishima’s voice surprised you and you smiled when you saw Yamaguchi entering the room right behind the tall boy.

To your surprise, Yamaguchi made eye contact with you, but quickly averted his eyes. Something uncomfortably heavy set on the pit of your stomach and you felt that awful sensation of anxiety starting to swirl in your chest and wrap around your throat. You gulped and took a deep breath. Let's calm down, you repeated inside your head over and over. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

From left to right: Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, you and Hinata. After a bit of chaos and someone almost asking to change rooms and saying that he'd rather sleep in the King's room, you all finally could choose your own bed and set that problem aside.

“Since we are next to each other,” you said to Yamaguchi as you both pulled out some clean clothing from your bags. “I think we can talk about the places we want to visit, right?”

Yamaguchi halted for a mere second before nodding softly. “Mhmm.”

You felt your cheeks heating up a little. “H-Hmm… Tadashi, are you mad at m-”

“Hey!” Hinata suddenly grabbed your arm. “The teacher said we should meet outside for a quick tour! Let's go!”

“S-Shouyou, give me just one second, I-

“Go on,” Yamaguchi said and you froze, quickly looking at him. “We should hurry.” With that, he was out of the room, leaving not only you and Hinata back, but also Tsukishima.

That awkward sensation tightened around your throat, almost choking you. This was going downhill, but you weren't trying to upset anyone, Hinata was just-

“Let's go?” He asked with a bright, warm smile and happy eyes and you sighed, nodding and smiling back at him. You really couldn't get mad at Hinata, he simply was… excited. Perhaps a bit too much, but you were sure he didn't mean harm.

Sighing again, you looked behind. “Let's go, Tsukki.” Tsukishima simply hummed in agreement and followed you and Hinata out the room.

In the lobby, you quickly found Yamaguchi and joined him, but standing next to him just felt… terribly awkward. You tried to do small talk, though you hated it to the bone, even throwing in some jokes that made you blush slightly, but your attempts seemed to work: Yamaguchi tried to hide a smile and he even spoke to you a couple of times, he was still curt in his answers, but at least he seemed to want to talk to you again.

The tour of the small inn was boring. The teachers in charge guided you through practically every room occupied by the students in your class, the teachers’ own rooms, the bathrooms, and so on, by the time you all had finished, you were exhausted. Not only physically, but also mentally. Although Yamaguchi seemed to be back to normal, he would still try to avoid talking to you too much. It had been too long since you had felt that suffocating sensation around your neck. Thousands of negative thoughts gathered in your head and you felt your temples throb. You heard your heart racing behind your ears and your breathing was a little erratic, barely perceptible to anyone, but deafening to you.

Letting out a deep sigh once you all were back to your room, you collapsed on your designated futon wearing a comfortable yukata given by the inn. Everyone had taken a shower, the room smelled like the sun and your eyelids felt heavy, you could have fallen asleep right then, but someone's voice woke you up.

“Shall we play a bit?” It was Yamaguchi, kneeling on his futon and showing you a deck of uno cards. You beamed, nodding excitedly, not feeling sleepy anymore. “I bet you can't beat me this time.”

You chuckled, getting up and approaching the little table with Yamaguchi. “When have I been able to do it?”

You both laughed and some of the growing anxiety in your chest dissipated. Everything was fine. It had just been a small misunderstanding. You and Yamaguchi were still friends and you were probably going to have a lot of fun on that trip... right?

One game turned into two and then into three and four. All four times you lost miserably, Yamaguchi had always been extremely good at uno, you couldn't really remember a time you had beaten him, but it didn't matter, you always had fun with him and seeing him happy to win over and over again was more than enough for you.

“You are terrible at this,” Hinata chuckled, glued to your side as Yamaguchi and you played for the fifth time. “This one,” he said, pointing at a card in your hand.

“A-Ah, this one?”

“Yes!” He said and waited for Yamaguchi to throw his next card. “Hmm, now this one. Why do you have so many cards? You could've won decades ago- now throw this one and this, and this and now this and-

You and Hinata jumped in surprise when Yamaguchi slammed his palms against the table. Your eyes widened when he looked at you, his brow deep in a big frown. He was furious.

“Can't you do anything by yourself?!” He yelled, getting up and rushing out of the room.

You were stunned. Your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest. What had happened?! Weren't you and Yamaguchi better now? You started to breathe heavily, your hands started to shake, the cards falling from your grip. You, Hinata, and Tsukishima seemed to have frozen in place. The three of you were staring at the door where Yamaguchi had come out.

Tsukishima was the first one to react, he sighed softly and started to get up from his futon where he was listening to music. He looked at you and you flinched. “I'll go check-

“No,” Hinata said, gently tapping your shoulder as he got up from his spot beside you. “I will go. This is my fault after all.” Hinata can be painfully dense many times, but even he could tell what had happened here. He smiled sheepishly at you and quickly left the room to look for Yamaguchi.

This was terrible. Was it happening again? Were you going to lose Yamaguchi? After everything it had cost you to open up to him and after all the affection you already felt for him- was it going to end like this? For a misunderstanding? It was your fault. Maybe the problem has always been you, maybe you don't know how to maintain a friendship. Maybe the problem is your behavior and attitude. Poor Yamaguchi, he had to know the worst side of you and now he was hurt like this. Were you really... a bad person?

“Hey…” You jumped, feeling a hand rubbing your back. Tsukishima was sitting beside you, and he reached out to wipe a tear falling from your cheek. “Don't be like this. This is not your fault.”

Your bottom lip trembled and more tears streamed down your cheeks. “It is my fault,” you said between soft sobs. “I've hurt Tadashi and now he hates me. I didn't m-mean to, I promise, Kei!” You looked at him with shame. Was Tsukishima going to hate you too? After all, Yamaguchi was his precious friend, of course Tsukishima would feel upset towards you and-

A gasp escaped your mouth when Tsukishima hugged you tightly with one arm. “I'm telling you this is not your fault, you don't understand?” He asked, gently rubbing your back. “Yamaguchi doesn't hate you. He just can't hate you. He likes you so much, can't you see how precious you are to him? You did nothing wrong.”

You hid your face on Tsukishima's shoulder and cried some more, letting Tsukishima's words settle in your heart. Yamaguchi didn't hate you? The possibility of that being true made your heart jump. If Yamaguchi didn't hate you, you could apologize and everything would go back to normal and you would both continue enjoying each other's company for a long time. Yamaguchi was so precious to you, you couldn't imagine the that you two could stop being friends. Just thinking about it made your bones hurt and made you feel dizzy and nauseous. Your friendship with him couldn't end yet- at least not this way.

“There, there. Are you better?” You nodded a little, slowly pulling away from the embrace. Tsukishima sighed. "You're so silly. How could you think Yamaguchi would hate you because of something so silly? You should apologize for thinking this way.” You blushed, nodding and Tsukishima chuckled. “You both are so childish. You need to grow up.” Although his words seemed harsh, there was no venom in them. His finger was suddenly poking your side, making you jump with a squeak.

“You see? How can you be so ticklish? Yamaguchi too, you both really are so alike,” he said, poking and poking and poking every spot he could reach: your sides, your ribs, your tummy and even your neck. In seconds he had you giggling and trying to stop his hand.

“Thahat- That d-dohoesn't have to do wihith a-anythihing!” You giggled out, squeaking when he started to knead your sides. “Kehehei!”

Tsukishima snorted softly before finally stopping. “Everything will be fine, you'll see,” he said with a warm smile, playfully ruffling your hair.

You breathed and smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Kei.”

"We are back!"

Like a spring, you stood up as soon as you saw Yamaguchi enter. His eyes were red and wet, he had also been crying a little. His freckled face was twisted into an expression of sadness, shyness and remorse and you were dying to hug him and tell him how important he was to you, but before you could even open your mouth, Yamaguchi had already started speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, looking at you. “I acted like a kid-”

Tsukishima, “That's what I said.”

Hinata, “Tsukishima!!”

“... I was…,” Yamaguchi continued. “I was tremendously jealous about how well you got along with Hinata. I thought…,” he sighed, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought you just… would leave me behind and wouldn't want to be friends with me anymore.

I was just stupid… instead of trying to talk to you, I decided to just be mad and childish and in the end I only hurt you just because I was scared I was going to be left behind and I even made Hinata feel bad just because he wanted to be friends with you…”

You knew that feeling of being forgotten and not belonging very well and it hurt you that Yamaguchi felt that way.

“So I am very, very sorry. Would you forgive me this time? I promise I'll do better… please?”

You smiled at him and quickly wrapped your arms around Yamaguchi, hugging him tightly. Yamaguchi hugged you back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. Forgive him? Of course! There had been blame on both sides in this situation, both had hurt the other in one way or another, so of course you forgave him. Your precious friend.

You chuckled, hugging Yamaguchi even tighter. “I think… there's only one way I can truly forgive you, Tadashi.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Yes! Please let me know what it is and I'll- eek!”

Yamaguchi pushed your shoulders lightly when you squeezed both his sides, tickling him. He looked at you and you smirked, making him flush; he tried to run, but you started to squeeze his sides again and again and again and soon, his laughter filled the whole room as he jumped and squirmed, trying to escape.

“I'll have to tickle you until I think it's enough!” You said with a laugh as Yamaguchi collapsed to the floor, your hands glued to his torso, following him down.

“N-Nohoho! I'm s-sohorry! I didn't- ahaha!”

Yamaguchi thrashed around, his hands around your wrists trying to push your hands away without much force or intention. His bitter expression had completely changed with a vibrant, bright smile that almost split his face in half. The sad tears streaming down his face had turned into tears of laughter and the way he laughed your name made you laugh along with him. Very soon, the bad time you were going through was behind you and now you were having fun like you always did.

“I want to play too! I want to play too!” Hinata chirped, jumping up and down excitedly. You thought that if he had a tail, he would be wagging it from side to side. You chuckled and looked up at him. “Can I join? Can I join?!”

You nodded, “yeah! Come help me out, Shouyou!”

“N-Nohoho! Ts-Tsuhuki, help! Ahahack!”

Not even you noticed when or how, but Hinata already had his hyperactive fingers on Yamaguchi's stomach, pinching the muscle on the sides of his belly and vibrating the tips of his fingers around Yamaguchi’s belly button. The redhead was giggling and babbling something about how ticklish Yamaguchi was and you chuckled, moving your fingers up to his ribs.

Yamaguchi laughed and squealed. His hands were an uncoordinated mess, trying to cover his stomach and then his ribs and also his mouth and his reddened cheeks. He laughed heartily, it seemed to you as if he were almost laughing with relief and you smiled tenderly. How could you even think that Yamaguchi would hate you? Tsukishima was right, you weren't giving him the credit he deserved.

“Oof-!”

You gasped heavily as someone grabbed your shoulders from behind and gently pushed you back, pinning one of your arms above your head. It was Tsukishima. He straddled your waist and smirked from above you.

“Someone here also needs a punishment for beating himself around too hard, hmm?”

“K-Kehei, no, please! I'm s-sorry I just- ahaHAHA! N-NOHOHO!”

Tsukishima simply loved to go for your weakest spots. It was like that every single time he tickled you. His fingers started to wiggle against your exposed underarm. He scratched the sensitive skin at the hollow and kneaded the muscle with his thumb, making you shriek with ticklish laughter.

Yamaguchi was also busy laughing his head off, you could hear him begging for mercy as Hinata quickly found the weak spot at his hips. Your laughter filled the room and you thought in a small moment of lucidity, when Tsukishima stopped tickling you to get a better grip on your arm, that very soon someone would be knocking on the door asking you all to shut up, but no one did and so you and Yamaguchi were under a vicious tickle attack until you both were able to pin your captors back.

Hinata's vibrant and rich laughter, along with Tsukishima's serene and gentle laughter formed a combination that was not at all unpleasant to hear. You already knew each of the points that made Tsukishima shriek with laughter, and Yamaguchi seemed to be having lots of fun trying to find Hinata's, which wasn't too hard, he seemed to be a walking tickle spot!

Tsukishima kept laughing out threats that had you laughing and feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy, but before he could actually get revenge on you, you and Yamaguchi locked eyes and in seconds, you both were after each other, trying to pin the other down while your hands latched to that place that made you scream with laughter.

Hinata wanted to join in the fun again and, somehow, Tsukishima was dragged in too, this time going for Yamaguchi who was driving you crazy because of the tickling under your arms. Hinata, for his part, took Yamaguchi's place, so you had a second of rest before you began to laugh loudly once again.

It had been an eventful day, you had to admit it. You could assure that you had felt almost every emotion in the world that day, but you were happy that everything had been fixed. You and Yamaguchi had strengthened your bond and you were sure that you would continue to be together for a long time to come.

It was the first night, but you knew that this trip would be one of the best of your life, as long as you and Yamaguchi remained the best of friends!

#haikyuu!!#Haikyuu!! tickling #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #hinata shouyou #male!reader #reader #ticklish!Tsukishima #ticklish!hinata #ticklish!yamaguchi #ticklish!reader #tickle fic #mia's commissions #commisions

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wompwompwrote · 1 year ago

Text

Conflicted

Sooooo this is my first time writing fan fiction so I'm sorry if it's awful!!!!

Warnings: None <3

WC: 616 (Teeny Tiny.)

I'll probs write a part two!

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

Megumi does not like you.

You’re absolutely aggravating. The way you speak, your mannerisms, even the way you breathe– just gets under his skin. Honestly, he doesn’t understand how you’re so beloved to everyone! You're apparently everyone’s best friend, yet how can they not see how irritating you are?

What’s even more troublesome, is that you’re constantly on his mind. Only because he hates you, not any other reason of course! When he reveals this to Yuuji, the response he gets is far from the one he expected.

————

“Honestly dude, it sounds like you have a crush.” Yuuji shrugs, not giving much thought to Megumi’s predicament.

This leaves Megumi reeling. A crush? On her? Absolutely not.

“No. There’s no way dumbass. You guys just don’t notice how fucking irritating she is because she’s got you all wrapped around her stupid little finger.”

Yuuji looks up from his phone, staring Megumi down.

“Listen dude, literally no one here has ever had an issue with her. This really does sound like a you problem. All of the things you listed that are “wrong” about her just sounds like you’re looking for reasons to hate her.” Yuuji sighs, hoping that he can knock some sense into Megumi’s thick skull.

“I agree with Yuuji!”

Megumi’s head whips around, only to spot Nobara standing in the doorway, hands full with plastic bags containing chinese take out.

“How much did you hear?” He cringes, awaiting her answer.

“Just about everything! You’ve got some serious issues, Megs. Y/N’s the lovelist, prettiest, and coolest gal ever.” Nobara lets out a huff as she sets the bags down. Yuuji greedily snatches one of the bags, dodging Nobara’s trying to swat him away.

“Oh! I have a perfect idea! Why don’t we invite Y/N over to eat with us?” Nobara squeals, and Megumi believes the universe may actually be against him.

“If you invite her, I’ll leave.”

“Oh, shush Megumi!” She throws her hands up, annoyed with her friend’s behavior.

Cheeks flaring red, Megumi slinks out of Yuuji's room. He was on a mission to forget his conversation with Yuuji even happened. Unfortunately, as he sulks off to his own room, he runs into his most hated foe– Y/N.

“Oh hi, ‘Gumi! I haven’t seen you around recently! How are you?” Y/N asks while a bright smile on her face, eyes shining, teeth gleaming. Looking at her made Megumi’s throat constrict, for reasons of annoyance, certainly.

“I’m well.” He chokes out. He swiftly moves around her, attempting to go to his own room. However, before he could go any farther, a hand clamped down on his wrist prevented him from doing so.

“So– I have a question. Could we train together some time? I-it’s just that I think you’d be a great sparring partner and we haven’t actually sparred together before so I just think it would be…productive? Also, I’ve sparred with literally everyone here before except you and I don’t want you to think I’m avoiding you and oh my gosh I’m so sorry I’m rambling!” To save herself from embarrassment, Y/N hides her face and burning cheeks in her hands.

Her rant leaves Megumi speechless. He didn’t know what to say, but he supposed he should say yes, but only because it would be productive to spar with her.

“Fine.”

Y/N claps and smiles widely. “Yay! How does 10 AM tomorrow sound? Perfect? Perfect! It’s a date!” After establishing what time they’d be meeting, Y/N bounces away to Nobara’s room.

“Um- Nobara isn’t in her room, she’s in Yuuji’s.”

“Oh, Thanks! See ya tomorrow, ‘Gumi!”

Megumi is left feeling conflicted, and weirdly nervous for the day ahead.

#jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk trio #yuji #nobara #fushiguro #itadori #jjk megumi #itadori yuuji

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5eraphim · 1 year ago

Note

Just saw ur lovely request are open once again,but I want to see some headcanons between zed and maynard when you- a former mercenary that left the war- comes back to check on the team- only to be terrified and creeped out by the surroundings.

And upon exploring inside- you find yourself to get lost upon the building..and when you saw a resemblance of your old teammate; engineer you couldn't help but be relieved..in a hurry you went over to him- and began to ramble and talk to him in worry..however you noticed something was off by the way he acts..he doesn't seem to know you..he seems surprised.. and when you call him dell- he even chuckles as if he finds it funny..

He offers you to go somewhere else- saying it's not safe- being lost and naive- you follow- making him actually lead you deeper inside.

You used to work here- why did this place suddenly became complex for you to wander around?

But then suddenly an another engineer appears and you panicked, raising your only weapon up towards them, but the engineer beside you stops you- taking the gun away from you.

You became confused- telling him there's an enemy right in front of you and he just laughs. You hear the supposed enemy engineer ask who you are- calling the engineer you first met- maynard and you became more confused and panicked as you realizes that this guy wasn't the same engineer you worked with.. and well.. this rambling could go even further with them trapping you inside the conagher slaughter house.

I 100% forgot you wanted this "headcanons" style, and drafted the entire oneshot before I Realized. I hope that's alright with you! Thank you so much for the request, I really hope you enjoy.

Title: Where He Once Stood

Characters: Maynard and Zed (Emesis Blue)

Rating: M (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: Reader is gender neutral, x reader, implied forced intimacy, power imbalance, deceptive abduction, slight amnesia, yandere

Word Count: 3.7k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." (Jeremiah 8:20)

"Even blood washes out, or you can fill your mouth with things that hide the taste." Sophie MacKintosh, Excerpt from "Cursed Bread"

You thought you knew your way around this place; you'd been around these parts plenty of times before. Sure, some years had passed, but that didn't explain how utterly lost you felt wandering Dustbowl. You ditched the war ages ago to find your own way in life, and you were content with that. It wasn't until recently that you decided you wanted to catch up with your closest friend from your time serving, Dell.

As a Sniper, you didn't interact much with the Engineer, but it wasn't your time on the battlefield you remembered fondly. It was his warmth and kindness at the end of the day, how excited you would get meeting up with him and the rest of the team for breakfast every day, despite knowing the grim work in store for you later in the day, and all the other moments of levity during such a dark time in your life. He was a good man, much too good to be stuck fighting the war.

The flashlight's beam did little to cut through the intense darkness overhead, and you could tell rain was due any minute now. You expected navigation would be tricky, but this was absolutely futile. The longer you wandered, the more your brain fog intensified, making you feel like a small child lost in the dark looking for their mother, jumping at shadows and fearing the sound of wind whipping overhead was the voices of ghosts.

Mindlessly, you fiddled with the strap securing your rifle to your body. Passing by a reflective window, you did a double take, catching your reflection. Looking down, you realized you were in your old Sniper's uniform. You could've sworn you came here dressed in civilian clothes when you departed, but frustratingly, you couldn't remember for sure.

In the distance, thunder rumbled, the storm was closing in, and you needed to find your way to proper shelter. Feeling a light rain against your face, you picked up the pace, trying to find any signs of life nearby, and to your immense relief, after rounding what felt like the hundredth nondescript dark corner, you spotted a light on, and could just make out the blurry details of Dell's old workshop. Running closer, you smiled, seeing the silhouette of someone inside tinkering away. It just had to be Dell!

As you sped closer and got a better look at the workshop, annoyed slightly by the fogged glass obscuring your vision keeping you from seeing inside, but you were too excited to see him again to care much.

Knocking on the door, you yelled, "Dell, open up!"

Watching a silhouette draw closer to the door, you were confused as he stalled for a moment, "Dell, will you let me in! It's freezing out here!"

The door creaked open, and Dell stood stiffly, without hesitating; you wrapped both arms around him, hugging as close as you could, almost sobbing with happiness after finally finding a familiar face around here.

"It's good to see you again! I missed you so much!"

Awkwardly, he patted your back and returned the hug before pulling away, staring at you with an almost blank look. "Sniper?"

Forcing a smile, you tried to ignore how uneasy he was acting, "C'mon Dell, it's me- we fought together for years. Don't tell me you've forgotten already?"

With an odd look on his face, he nodded, a strange smile spread across his face, "Course I remember ya, that's right- it's me, your ol' buddy Dell. It's been a while since I saw your face- whatcha doin' 'round here?"

He was acting weird, but it had been so long since he'd seen you face to face, and you didn't want to say anything. As he let you inside, you couldn't ignore the mess around the workshop. Dell could get buried in his work more than anyone you knew, but he was never so sloppy before. Beer cans littered tables, cigarettes piled over in ashtrays, and countless grease stains streaked across the tables and walls. You had to force yourself to keep from recoiling at the smell of stale air and debris. Seeing your old comrade out of uniform was odd, even if he still dawned the hard hat and goggles. Did he get taller after the war? You wondered but didn't want to ask out loud.

He noticed your staring, even if you were too meek to say anything definitive. With a hearty laugh, he pulled you into a crushing bear hug, "Good to see ya again, partner. It's been awful quiet 'round these parts lately."

You wanted to pull up a chair and catch up, but you couldn't forget the nightmarish terrain you crossed to get here. Pushing away from the hug, biting your lower lip nervously, you spoke, "Dell, I think something's up. We gotta get out of here."

Dell didn't seem to notice how bleak things were outside his shop. "This ol' place? I've been living under this roof since day one… It ain't been that long since you ditched the war." He gave you a cheeky smile, "Don't tell me you've already forgotten this place."

He was right. Objectively, you were fighting in the war just a few years ago, and there was no reason for you to have already forgotten so much. It didn't make any sense. Too insecure about the bizarre amnesia and brain fog to confess to either, you didn't respond, watching Dell cautiously nodding. Dell sighed, "I'm a might busy now, but I can walk with you for a while; I reckon I can take one night off. Help ya outta here an' all."

Stepping away a bit, you expected Dell to lead you back outside, but to your surprise, he drew further into the workshop, bringing you to the door attaching the shop to the rest of the warehouse. He opened the door, holding it open for you as you paced onward. It didn't make sense to you that this could be the way out, but Dell was your friend, and you trusted him. And it wasn't like you had any better ideas.

The two of you shuffled forward in a slightly awkward silence, you couldn't ignore how different everything looked from how you remembered it. How could everything have fallen into disrepair so fast? Windows were shattered, and walls were fractured by massive cracks, it was like the place had been abandoned for at least a decade. Things were run down, broken, and you tried not to consider the possibility you'd somehow stumbled onto enemy territory. You reasoned it was only a matter of time before you saw something you remembered, and if it were the enemy base, surely you'd have gotten yourself shot by now.

Dell broke the silence, "You came all this way to see me. You still talkin' with the others? Any idea how they're holdin' up?"

He sounded so disinterested; it was hard to imagine someone like him hadn't kept up with the others back home, if there was one person to be "a friend to all", it was Dell."I'm not so sure, actually. It's been getting quieter and quieter on their end… I just- I uh, really wanted to come and see you before you went silent too…"

Dell looked over his shoulder to smile at you, but this was an expression you'd never seen from him before. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing." Something was seriously off with him, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You were so unsettled you didn't know how to respond, keeping your head down and hands mindlessly fumbling with your gun strap, trying to hold onto the hope this would all be over soon.

"To get outta here, we're gonna cross someone who don't take kindly to trespassers. But hold my hand, and I promise I'll getcha through." He extended his un-gloved hand for you to take, a kind gesture, but not one you were too thrilled to accept.

Raising an eyebrow, you responded, "If it's just one guy, I think I can defend myself just fine." As you spoke, you tapped the tip of the rifle strapped to your back with your fingernail.

Dell looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh, "Buddy, don't wanna do that, trust me. Ya ain't gonna win a quick draw against him." Once again, he extended his hand palm-up for you to take, which you reluctantly accepted. To your slight relief, Dell's hands were at least as warm as you remembered. It wasn't much, but you found it comforting.

You were thankful Dell didn't try to rush. Matching your feeble pace and walking close enough beside, you could almost feel his hip pressed against your own. "Is it Spy? Is he still around?"

Dell snickered, "Nope."

You continued walking by his side for a while without saying anything. Listening to the sound of your own footsteps against the creaking floor, trying to ignore the other noises of the house. The rain pattering against the windows, which rattled in the wind. Even creepier, you couldn't ignore the unidentifiable sounds from below the floorboards, sounding almost like someone moaning in pain. You could've sworn you could hear whispers coming from behind the dark corners, but you knew there was no way anyone else was around. Inner reason told you it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but you couldn't help but whip your head toward the voices to catch someone there, but no one ever was.

If Dell could hear the moans of pain or the hushed voices, he didn't say anything. As you walked, he ran his thumb in soft, slow circles against the back of your hand to try and comfort you. He hummed a little under his breath as though trying to minimize the creepiness of the place.

When you were about to ask how much longer until you found a way out, Dell stopped at another door. Remarkably sturdy looking and well-maintained compared to the shabbiness of the rest of the house. Given how heavy and industrial it appeared, it hardly resembled a door, looking more like the entrance to a bank vault. "This is it. He's right in 'ere. Don't let him scare ya. He's all bark and no bite… Sort of."

You were too tense to ask precisely what he meant by that, giving him a single nod in response, pressing your lips together into a hard line, tightening your grip against his hand. Stealing your resolve with a deep breath, you had no idea what lay in wait behind the door, but you were ready to tackle it head-on if it meant getting out. Pulling a tarnished silver key from his top pocket, Dell unlatched the door, stealing a quick glance your way before pushing the heavy door open.

You weren't ready to see what was behind that door, let alone confront him. The sight of another Engineer covered in fresh blood, chunks of carnage clinging to his overalls, and cleaning his tools, which were just as drenched in gore as he was, made you lock up with fear. The smell of carnage and motor oil almost made you wretch, and it took all your strength to keep from covering your eyes or screaming.

Two Engineers at the same base was confusing enough, but seeing one of them drenched in blood off the battlefield made you even more horrified. They both looked so much like Dell, but you knew with a sinking realization neither of these men were the Engie you knew and cared for. The other Engineer looked up at his twin, only then noticing he wasn't alone. "Who the hell is that?"

He shot up from his seat, ready to dart in your direction. Instinctively, you drew your weapon and were prepared to aim at the other Engineer. Your hands shook badly, and you knew you'd miss him if you tried to fire, even at such a close range.

Before you could even raise the crosshairs to your eye, you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder, pulling you protectively closer to his body, effortlessly yanking you from your weak stance, speaking in a louder but not quite aggressive voice. "Hey, easy there- don't do anything stupid now. We're just here to talk."

You weren't sure if he was talking to you or the other Engineer, but thankfully, he stopped where he was, keeping one hand planted on the gun attached to his belt. "Don't do anything stupid? Maynard! What the hell are you doin' bringin' someone up here!?"

Confusion slowly began to dwarf your fear. Keeping a tight hold on your gun, you lowered it a little more, whispering under your breath, glancing at the man beside you out of the corner of your eye, "Maynard?"

Despite the hostile situation, he grinned and winked, "Charmed to make your acquaintance, partner."

The other Engineer was far less amused. "Maynard, answer me! You got a hell of a lotta explainin' to do, brother!" It was too dark to see his face, as though you could even really see him under the hard hat and glasses, but his voice was more than enough to make you go stunned and silent.

All rational was gone. You could only think about getting out of this awful place. You tried to turn on your heel and break from Maynard's grip, but he was even stronger than he looked, keeping you effortlessly pinned in place.

A pair of bulky arms hugged you from behind, wrapping around your belly, pulling you securely against a chest broader than you remembered Dell's being. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as you were forced to fully realize how close the stranger was and how far away from safety you were.

Sure, you were scared before, but Dell was your best friend, and you'd follow him anywhere, but this wasn't Dell, and now you were in the clutches of something much more nefarious than you had expected.

Leaning close to whisper in your ear, you heard the stranger speak, "You weren't runnin' away on me now, were you? You wouldn't leave me all alone in here, would ya, darlin'? And here I thought we were getting along so well." His hug from behind tightened noticeably as he hissed that last part into your ear, crushing the air from your lungs. Your eyes widened, watching the other Engineer stalking closer. He looked so much like Dell, but you knew this wasn't him, the similarities making him all the more terrifying. The other Engineer didn't once take his hand from his gun, but at least he wasn't yelling anymore. "The hell are you doing here? Just who the hell-"

Maynard raised one hand to silence the other Engineer, who complied through grit teeth, and you could only imagine the enraged look on his face under his goggles.

"Relax, Zed, this one is harmless-"

Zed fumed, "Don't tell me to relax, you lazy bastard! You bring a surprise visitor this deep into the house with a gun pointed at my head! And you want me to relax!?"

You paled, listening to Zed confirm what you'd feared all along. You weren't being led the way out. You were following blindly even deeper into enemy territory, brought all the way into his den without even trying to fight back. You couldn't even call it your old base anymore. Where you stood now was his turf. Any pathetic, fleeting hope of escaping this bizarre place vanished the instant the words left Zed's mouth. Tears of hopelessness stung your eyes, threatening to spill as you heard Maynard's deep, unsettling laughter rumbling behind you. Too scared to move much on your own, you managed to buck forward suddenly, wriggling free as his arm detached from around you, forcing you to support yourself with shaking knees, holding your rifle to your chest with white knuckles, breathing rapidly.

Maynard took a half-step away and smiled reassuringly before extending a hand your way. In a faux-soothing voice, though with a note of condescension, as though he were speaking to a small child, "You heard the man. Hand it over."

The mere sight of Zed standing close by, staring you down with complete vitriol, made you hesitate. Your situation was hopeless; anyone could see that trying to hold onto your gun would likely give you more trouble than anything else, but still, you were too scared out of your mind to think clearly.

Seconds passed like hours as Maynard stared at you with that creepy smile, "Don'tcha want this all over with? Just hand me the gun, buddy. That's all ya gotta do." You looked back between Zed and Maynard like a hunted animal.

"C'mon now, Don't make me take it from you," Maynard warned, sounding a little too excited to enforce his own threat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, with unsteady hands, you complied, turning over your only means of defense to the stranger. Your sniper rifle was more than a gun. It was an extension of yourself, and handing it away felt like a severe betrayal.

Without a second thought, the Texan smiled, accepting your weapon into his own hands, holding the thing carefully in his hands, and seeming to admire the firearm before smashing it into the cement wall beside him. The sound of metal against cement rang out like a gunshot, making you yelp, watching your precious gun get smashed to pieces.

Maynard took a few more good swings against the wall before dropping the battered rifle to the ground, giving it a steel-toed stomp for good measure, beaming at the sound of metal breaking apart and shattering beneath his foot.

Maynard looked at Zed with an almost chipper smile, "See, gun's gone now. I told ya that one's harness, didn't I?" Unable to look away, you stared down at your poor gun, not even flinching as Maynard slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.

Zed appeared unphased by the brutal display, nodding at the sight of the broken weapon, at last moving his hand from his holster, crossing his arms over his chest. "I see. But I wanna know why you brought a hostage all the way up here. I know we got more than enough room in the bunkers-"

Maynard interrupted, squeezing you a little tighter, "Not a hostage. A guest, this one's an old friend of Dell's." Turning his head to face you, uncomfortably close, Maynard asked, "Dell ever mentioned he had brothers to ya before?"

You winced hearing his name. You didn't want to upset your captors more than they were, but you honestly had no idea what was happening, so you shook your head.

Maynard sighed, "Looks like our baby brother didn't spend much time missin' the folks back home. Typical youngest sibling', he thinks just cuz he's the golden child, he can leave the rest of us behind."

You were almost too scared to ask; you just had to know. "Dell is still alive… Isn't he?"

Maynard frowned, "Well, he ain't come our way in a long time. But I know he's out there. He'll be back soon… An' I know you'll be good an' help welcome him home, won'tcha?" While he spoke, his fingers began to drum over your shoulder, playing with the fabric of your shirt between his fingertips. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Zed watching you like a hawk, not moving from his position several paces away, likely still ready to blow your head off at a moment's notice.

Trying your hardest not to let him see how his touch made you shudder, you mumbled, "How long? How much longer till he's back?"

Maynard sighed, shrugging, "Well, tough to say for sure. We've been waitin' on a visit for ages now, but ya never know with him."

Your face fell, and your head dropped forward, not wanting to give Maynard the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Ruffling the top of your head with his gloved hand, he muttered, "Hey now, don't cry, it won't be so bad. We'll keep you nice and safe. I always did like a little company around here."

Maynard looked past you to talk to Zed, "Just give us a few. I'll get 'em settled in and be back to work."

Zed huffed but didn't say anything to stop his brother, allowing him to walk past where he stood to the hallways connecting personal quarters to the den. As he passed the threshold out of the den, Maynard laughed a little to himself, "Yeah, sorry 'bout him. He's always a lil' cranky 'round strangers."

If that was Zed being cranky, you didn't want to know what he looked like when he was really pissed. It wasn't long until Maynard stopped at another doorway at the end of the hall, which creaked harshly when pushed open.

So this was where he was leading you all along, his bedroom. Somewhere so deep in the heart of the house, you didn't have a prayer of finding your own way out. You let Maynard lead you to his bed. He sat you down on the blanket, drinking in the scared look on your face with great satisfaction.

"I gotta take care of a few more things, but I want ya to stay here; keep the bed nice and warm for me. I'll be back before ya know it."

You didn't say anything, too disgusted to even look him in the eye, but you could hear him chuckling at your adorable stubbornness, "What's the matter, partner? Got nothing to say?"

Still refusing to look at him, you mumbled. "You were never going to take me home. You lied to me."

Using his human hand, Maynard brushed the side of your cheek with the pad of his thumb, curling his other hand beneath your chin to tilt your head up to look at him.

"I promised to get you outta the workshop. I never promised to take ya home. But hey, it's gonna be ok, darlin', Don'tcha see? You are home now."

Biting your lower lip to keep from sobbing, you could feel your face trembling to keep the tears in, "This can't be real. This has gotta be a dream…"

Maynard leaned down to kiss your head, muttering, "Ya really think this is all some dream, huh? That's cute. Go on and hold onto that hope while ya can. Ya ain't gonna have much hope left after I've had my way with ya."

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