#i have no idea what triggered it i was fine on monday but ever since tuesday i've been uggggggghhhhh
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// i know this is murakumo's thing but i just might give au karachan my stomach problems
#ooc#i have no idea what triggered it i was fine on monday but ever since tuesday i've been uggggggghhhhh
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Monday, June 26th, 2023 - Sunday, July 2nd, 2023
~
General Info
What is UraIchi Week?
It’s a week-long fanworks event to promote the Urahara Kisuke x Kurosaki Ichigo ship. There’s no sign-up, it’s just for fun, and everybody can participate. Completed works and wips are both acceptable, and any type of fanwork (fanfic, fanart, gifsets, etc.) is welcome. NSFW and/or potentially trigger-y content is allowed, although please remember to tag your works properly.
The ship itself can be written romantically or platonically so long as it stars these two characters together in some way. Poly ships are also fine so long as Ichigo and Kisuke are still the focus of the fanwork. And crossovers and fusions are also allowed even if it isn’t one of the given prompts for the event. Basically, anything goes, and the only criteria is that it has to be UraIchi-centric.
Posting:
For those of you with Tumblr, you can tag your stuff with #UraIchi Week 2023 in the first five tags of your post. I’ll be tracking that tag so I’ll see it and reblog it to this blog. (If it’s been a few days since you posted and I still haven’t reblogged it, something probably went wrong, Tumblr’s not always reliable, so just shoot me an ask about it and I’ll reblog it.)
For those of you with AO3, I will create a collection a day or two before the event starts, and you’ll be able to add your work to the collection when you post. (I’ll toss up a notice for everyone once the collection is up.)
And of course we have our Discord server (link is on the sidebar) so if you want to come and talk about what you’re working on or you just want to chat, feel free to join us there!
At this point, the UraIchi Server has definitely gotten a lot bigger than just UraIchi, but we do still have channels dedicated to UraIchi events.
~ Themes
The votes are in and tallied so here are the results that everyone’s been waiting for! It’s your choice whether or not you want to make a fanwork that includes all the themes of that day, or a fanwork for each theme, or a fanwork for just one. You can make something for each day of the week or just one or two days. And if your fanwork doesn’t fit any of the themes, there’s a Creator’s Choice option on the last day so feel free to bring your own ideas to this event. All prompts can be interpreted any way you want as well, it’s entirely up to you, any extra bits I’ve added is just to help get those inspiration bunnies hopping.
An extra note about the sentence prompts: feel free to change the tenses and pronouns as it suits you. If you’re inspired by a sentence prompt, then of course you should include it in your fic (as opposed to the quote prompts which are just inspiration in a general-theme-of-your-work sort of way), but if you need to change the tense from present to past, or if you’re doing a genderbend fic and need to change the pronoun, that’s perfectly fine.
And now here are the prompts:
June 26th, 2023 - Day 1: the passage of time is a game-changer, for better or for worse
Time Travel AU / Dimension Travel AU
"At this point, I've died so many times, once more isn't going to make a difference."
Post-Canon AU
"This isn't your responsibility." / "It isn't yours either."
June 27th, 2023 - Day 2: o if only the dead could speak— you would hear the stories they could tell, of the terrible things we did for love
Loyalty Kink
"Him or the world? That's easy."
Oaths / Vows
"Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." - David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest
June 28th, 2023 - Day 3: is there really so great a difference, between man and martyr and monster?
vs. Gotei 13 AU
"You could at least keep your pet killer on a leash."
Mafia AU
"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when considering violence?" - Terry Pratchett, Going Postal
June 29th, 2023 - Day 4: i was never human to begin with (you made sure of that)
Feral
Eldritch/Horror/Supernatural Elements AU
Binding Contracts
"Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?" - Friedrich Nietzsche
June 30th, 2023 - Day 5: our love was forged across battlefields (we fought for every bit of it, every single day)
Soulmates AU
"I want you to stay. Am I still not being clear enough?"
Arranged Marriage AU
"We accept the love we think we deserve." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
July 1st, 2023 - Day 6: redemption or destruction— which one will you be to me?
Touch-Starved Character(s)
"I've forgotten how to be kind."
Mask
"I desire the things that will destroy me in the end." - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
July 2nd, 2023 - Day 7:
Creator’s Choice!
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Restoration (Chapter 6)
I had no idea what to do with this chapter, but it’s going to mostly lead up to something that’s going to happen later on! So mostly a filler chapter just because why not?
Word Count: 5.1k
CW: Slight mentions of suicide, slight trigger warnings, serious overthinking
6-Nathan
A week has passed since that night. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how I just hugged him. How embarrassed I’ve felt since then. How awkward I feel when I’m near Ryker. Even though he wasn’t at all bothered by it. It hasn’t left my mind. I just feel so embarrassed by it. I mean, we barely knew each other and I just went up and gave him a makeshift hug? Not something people do on an ordinary basis. But still, I haven’t forgotten the way he gently pressed one of his fingers against my back to return the gesture. Somehow I was terrified, but also… grateful? Happy? Whatever the word for it was, it just felt nice.
I spent that entire week trying to talk to him again, but I guess the adrenaline rush was the only reason I could get those few words out to him. Of course, because I can never get anything to work out in my favor. Typical Nathan.
Well, during that week, my mom had taken off from work to be with me, since she’s apparently realized that I’ve “been in and out of it,” This entire week. Which I have, I just didn’t think she’d really notice. But of course she does, because she’s a parent and a nurse. How could she not notice?
She asked me everyday for the past five days after school how everything was going. I would always reply with a smile and say, “It’s good.” Even though in some cases I was lying. Sometimes at school I would stare off into space, not paying attention to anything anyone ever said. Or sometimes when Ryker was talking I would just cave in on myself and ask: Why am I even here? What was wrong with me? Heck, even Ryker has noticed and tried confronting me about it. He told me I didn’t have to answer, and I didn’t. Afraid that I would ruin whatever friendship we’ve made. Or if he even considers us friends. Though, I doubt that was a possibility.
I had no idea what was wrong with me. Ever since that… hug, I’ve been nothing but a mess. Was it the unbelievable act I thought I could never do again? The way I felt about it afterward? Was it the fact that I wanted to talk so bad, but I couldn’t? Mom can’t know about any of this. She’s already heartbroken enough, and I’d hate myself even more if I dropped this bombshell on her. This is why I needed my dad. Even when I was younger I was always timid and shy and I overthought plenty of things. He’d help me by saying that I should put all of those bad thoughts into a jar and throw it far, far away. But that was when I was a kid. What about now?
Mom was really worried about me. I could tell. But I was fine. I think. Probably not. Either way, she called the school counselor in hopes that whatever was going on with me would go away. I knew she hated seeing me so sad. I remember when we were still… trapped she used to try to keep my happy by playing little games, or telling me made up stories. As I grew older she tried her best to keep me from crying, trying her hardest to keep me happy. Even after dad died.
So, this was the week I had started to take counseling after school every Monday and Thursday for forty minutes a day. On top of that, she also contacted Mrs. Kay for whatever reason, and she’s told me that she wants to work with me for at least twenty minutes everyday after class. Great, right? So much for a normal life. I thought I could give it another chance and all of a sudden people are just trying to overwhelm me when I wanted to solve this mystery on my own.
It was a grueling morning. It was raining, hard. Thunder had sounded above the entire city, making me jump. Stupid right? A seventeen year old scared of thunder? I have a good reason. I think. Didn’t matter.
I groaned, forcing myself out of bed. This was going to be a long day. I already knew it. It was raining, mom was passed out on the couch, and my body felt like it was going to give up on me at any moment. And luckily that stupid little project thing was over so I could finally take my regular classes. I just hoped Mrs. Kay wouldn’t assign anything crazy again. She probably would though.
I didn’t bother eating breakfast. Just grabbing my backpack on the way out and making my way to the bus before I was late. Nothing to it. The same routine as the past month.
The school looked as gloomy as ever. Of course it did. It was Monday. The halls were filled with people talking by their class, or running down the hall like there was no tomorrow. Isn’t it too early in the morning to be doing all of that? I was barely waking up. Either way, I went by unnoticed by the crowd of people and made it to class.
I admit it felt weird not having a looming presence above me at all times. Was that a good thing? I have no idea, but it makes me kind of miss the one-sided conversations Ryker likes to start up. I miss it a lot. Even though I never talked, I loved listening. I was so weird. Before all of this mess, I wanted nothing to do with him, and here I am wishing for his company. Why couldn’t I just be normal?
The classes were the same as always. Nothing new to it. Then it was lunch. The time period in school where anything can happen. Especially with that encounter a couple weeks back… I shuddered at the thought, reaching the cafeteria. So many people. Too many people. I forgot how crowded it was being on this side.
Searching for the table I sat at before I had met anyone, I found that it was taken by a group of girls. Nope. Not getting that back. Especially since I know that no one would willingly sit in the far corner. I sighed, searching for a table that was open, and not finding any. Could I just sit with Ryker again? I asked myself. It would be nice, but I don’t think he wants to see me. At least not until last period. I wouldn’t want to be bothered by me either if I were him.
“Boo.” I jumped, catching my breath while Lucky was laughing so hard he starting coughing. I was not expecting that at all. I thought he would just forget about me. Especially since the “project” was over. I just thought I was another name to be remembered once they all graduate.
“Sorry, sorry, but you’re so easy to scare,” He chuckles, “Wanna come sit with us?”
It takes my mind a while to process what just happened, “Wh-who’s ‘us?’”
“Just Ryker and me. Dylan had a basketball game so I’m all alone.” Lucky shrugged casually. Did I want to sit with them? Yes. Of course I do. I was just afraid I might zone out like I have been for the past week. What if I get scared again? What would happen then? They would all drop me and I’d be all alone again…
I was about to shake my head before Lucky grabbed my wrist and guided us through the cafeteria to where Ryker always sits. Away from everyone else… I gulped, seeing him stare bored at whatever was playing on his phone. This was a bad idea. Who told me I could even do this? No one. Lucky just dragged me here. And there was a tiny feeling of gratefulness that he did.
Lucky guided me into the elevator with him. It was silent on the way up, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Lucky looked at me like he was worried. Was it because I kept fidgeting with my hands? Was it because I couldn't look straight ahead? Or was it because he’s noticed something was wrong with me just like everyone else has? Probably the last one.
“Why do… you look nervous?” Lucky had asked before the elevator made that same ding sound it always does. I didn’t take a step forward, and neither did Lucky. Nervous? I have no idea.
“I-um… I don’t know.” I let out a sad chuckle, trying my best to give a genuine smile. Lucky gave a skeptical look, “If I promise not to tell will you tell me?”
Do I trust that? I do. I really, really do. I had no reason not to trust Lucky. Even if I didn’t know what I was so nervous about. I don’t get why everyone was so concerned either! I was a nobody. Just another person trying his hardest to live an impossible normal life. Maybe I should have stayed at the hospital…
“I really don���t know though.” I muttered, looking down at the ground. Lucky gave another skeptical look before guiding me out of the elevator. I still almost ended up tripping over my own two feet per usual. What was going on with me lately?
“Hey Ry.” Lucky greeted, smiling and heading over to watch whatever Ryker was watching on his phone like it was nothing. What was I supposed to do now? I can’t… What? My thoughts were a jumbled up mess. I don’t even know what I was thinking at this point. Does Ryker even want me here? No, no he doesn’t. He’s tired of me. I already know it. Everyone gets tired of me eventually. I’m either “Impossible to deal with,” or, “Not worth the time.” A messed up system, right?
“Hey,” He sighed, his eyes wandering towards me and flashing a soft smile, “Hi, Nathan.”
I didn’t know what to do. Was he acting? It didn’t really seem like it. He also didn’t seem like the kind of person to act in a situation like this. Still, there was no telling. Maybe he just didn’t want to break the news to me like this? Yeah. Most likely.
I raised a shaky hand, giving a wave and a nervous smile in hopes that Ryker wouldn’t catch on. He didn’t, but that didn’t stop him from giving a confused expression as if he was trying to put together a puzzle. Hah. As if you could solve my puzzle. I’ve lost so many pieces it’s practically impossible. I’ve tried to solve it myself many times and failed miserably.
Ryker dragged his attention back to the movie on his phone, looking bored. What was I supposed to do now? We used to watch that hilarious cop show, but I think he only put it on to keep me from being bored and bothering him at this point. Was it all an act? Did he just play along with whatever happened? He didn’t hug me back because he wanted to? He forced himself to do all of those things just so he wouldn’t be bothered? Was I tricked again?
I’m overthinking.
One step at a time. I said I wanted to give life one more chance, so that’s what I’m going to do. Even if this was all some kind of sick act. Even if I get hurt. I sucked in a deep breath, and sat next to Lucky, watching the events on the theater-sized screen in front of me. Usually I sat further back, but I was afraid of being alone at the moment.
Even though I was scared out of my mind, there was also some other kind of feeling lingering in the back of my mind. I felt comfortable. Surprisingly after everything that’s been going on inside my head. I was too used to being around Ryker. That doesn’t mean I was comfortable being around any giant though. I had nearly an entire month of forced contact with him. Of course I’d be more lenient towards him. Especially after he’s made no move in those past four months to imprison me and keep me as some kind of pet or entertainment.
“Bell’s gonna ring.” Ryker grabbed his phone from in front of us, stuffing it back into his pocket and holding his hand palm-up. Why though? We can just take the elevat-
Lucky quickly pulled his backpack on and climbed on, waiting for me to follow. I guess I didn’t have any other choice. Lucky helped me on, and we both managed to fall over on top of each other somehow. Lucky laughed while I hurried to get up, muttering quiet apologies to him.
“It’s nothing. It happens with Angela all the time.” Lucky smiled. Ryker cupped his hand a bit and started walking towards the doors to get out of the cafeteria. Just in time too, because the bell rang and everyone was now rushing to get to class all of a sudden. I stopped looking back, afraid that the panic attack I’ve been fighting back for the past month would suddenly resurface. Nope. Everything will be okay. I think. Hopefully.
Ryker crouched down at the part of the hallway that leads back to the human side of the school, letting us down. He barely even talked to me. In fact, the only time he was even talking to either Lucky and I was when we arrived at the table. Was he okay? I couldn’t tell anymore. I just hope that I’m not the cause.
———Ryker———
Today was not a good day. For more than one reason. One reason being that I had work afterschool today. Another being that I woke up late today due to staying up until about two in the morning because I needed to finish cleaning. And my third reason was the fact that I’m ninety nine percent sure I messed everything up with Nathan.
In the last week of that “project” I noted that Nathan didn’t really seem to be… himself? Of course I barely knew him and he could have something going on at home, but something just felt off. Maybe it was just that one tiny moment that Friday? Did I do something wrong? Was I not supposed to hug him back? Did I do or say something wrong to upset him? It didn’t really make sense in my head. I thought everything was going good. So why all of a sudden did he seem timid and nervous around me?
It was that entire week. I asked him if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it. Nathan just shook his head and gave the best makeshift smile he could manage. I knew something was wrong and that it had something to do with me. And today proved it. It seemed like we were back at step one.
Was Nathan okay? I remember asking one time and receiving a shake of his head, but I never once thought if he did it just to answer or if he really meant it. I guess I have my answer now. I don’t know why I was so worried honestly. Maybe because in my brain I pretty much consider Nathan and I friends? I have zero idea if he thinks the same, but I hoped so.
I forced myself through these next grueling classes, waiting for last period. I hadn’t talked to Nathan at lunch because it really didn’t seem like he was up for it at the time. I don’t want to overstep his boundaries either. What if he just wants to be left alone? I have no idea what was going on in his mind as I’ve said before, so that could be a possibility?
Mrs. Kay had nothing being projected on the board today, which meant it was either a free day or it was some kind of lecture on relationships between human and giants. Something that this world apparently is so focused on. I guess that’s a good thing though.
After a couple minutes of waiting, I heard the faint ding noise that comes from the elevator and watched as Nathan stumbled out, figuring out a way to trip once again. I’ve wondered for a while why he had always found a way to trip over thin air, but I could never figure it out. Maybe he was just clumsy? It would make sense, but that can’t be the only reason, right? Still, every time he fell my hand twitched to try and help, but I already knew that would tumble everything downhill. Especially now.
Mrs. Kay had announced that today was a free day since she still had to put in some grades. Would it be overstepping if I asked if Nathan was okay again? Maybe to him, but I was already feeling guilty for being the cause of why he seems so upset.
“Are you finally glad that you don’t have to be carried around by me anymore?” I nervously laughed, hoping for him to answer. Just build up. That was the way to do this.
Nathan turned around, thinking about the question before rotating his hand sideways. Kind of? Honestly, that was expected because even Lucky gets tired of being carried around everywhere. Speaking of… Lucky told me something about Nathan making brownies? I’m pretty sure that was on Friday, I just don’t know when he did. But Lucky and Angela absolutely loved them. And Angela had showed me a new stuffed animal that Nathan had bought for her too. In return, she drew a picture of Nathan with some of her crayons and my heart practically melted.
“Oh, um, Angela has a gift for you. Y’know… for the stuffed animal you bought her?” I smiled. I think it was sweet. I don’t know why he thought he needed gifts though, everyone already thought he was nice already. I guess he just wanted to make sure that no one thought bad of him?
Nathan’s eyes widened and pointed to himself with an unsure look. Was he confused why? I don’t even know why either. I shrugged my shoulders. Nathan brought his knees up to his chest and stared at the ground, deep in thought. Did I do something wrong again? I guess now would be the time to bring up the topic.
“I know you’re probably not going to answer me, and that’s okay! But, do you wanna talk about something? You just don’t… look okay.” I bit the side of my cheek in hopes that he’ll give me some kind of a response. He probably thinks I’m annoying at this point. Even I think I am at this point. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have even asked.
Nathan shook his head, putting on a makeshift smile. He was lying. But, if he doesn’t want to talk to me then I won’t force him to. There was nothing I could do. Although, I’m sure a teacher or even his parents would have noticed this. If they haven’t already, then it would be soon. Most likely they’ll just get a therapist or he’ll eventually tell someone about whatever was going through his mind.
The rest of the time was spent asking him how his weekend was. How it felt to be back on his schedule. You know, questions to keep his mind off of things. I think it was working. At least for a little before the last bell of the day rang. I gave a two fingered wave to Nathan, receiving a shaky one back and left the room. I still felt bad.
———Nathan———
Remember when I said today was going to be a bad day? I wasn’t kidding. The one-sided conversation with Ryker helped get rid of the uneasiness of going to the counselors office. But as soon as the final bell rang it all came flooding back. Last period wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Not bad at all. Not until that loud bell rang, and the entire classroom rushed to get out.
On my way down the hallway to the counselor’s office, I couldn’t stop thinking about what could possibly go wrong. They might give up on me too. They might tell me to just go home. Or they might send me back to the mental hospital. I mean, it’s not that bad of a place when you don’t have any friends waiting for you, but there were some things that I hated. No contact with the outside world, they make you take these dumb classes to help “calm the mind.” Like yoga or where you would pass a foam ball around and tell everyone your name and what you were there for. I never, ever took part in that exercise.
Sucking in a deep breath, I knocked quietly on the door that read, “Counsellor Office. Mr. Smith” I didn’t exactly know how these kinds of things worked. All I knew is that no one liked them.
“You must be Nathan! Please take a seat. Anywhere is fine.” Mr Smith was a tall man. He look about in his late thirties early forties, but he looked so friendly and calm. His voice was trusting and soft as well. I can’t wait till he starts talking behind my back about how impossible I was.
His office was like any other office I’ve been in. Other than the two different colored bean bags that sat in the corner by a small book case that had a tiny tv above it with movies on the side. This room was nothing like any therapist room I’ve been in. Usually they’re cold and only have a singular couch with magazines about eating healthy and being mentally healthy. Not that those ever helped me.
I decided to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk, fidgeting with my hands the entire time. Mr. Smith walked over to his own chair, taking out a notebook and gave another soft smile.
“Nervous? Most students are when they walk in here,” He chuckled, grabbing a pen, “Do you mind telling me your name and how old you are?” I thought he knew that already.
I opened my mouth to speak, “N-Nathan… I’m seventeen.” Curse the stuttering. Today was already hard enough, why does everything go downhill after I feel good about something?
“Nice to meet you, Nathan. I’m Garrett Smith, thirty-seven years old, and I have a PhD in psychology.” PhD? Then why is he working as a school counsellor? He could be an actual therapist and won’t have to deal with so many kids. This guy was confusing, but I feel somewhat comfortable around him. Even though we met barely three minutes ago.
“Now, your mom was worried about you. She says that you seem to be having more nightmares lately. That you seem more tired and sad lately. Would you wan to start there or talk about something else bothering you?” He asked, waiting patiently for my answer. My heart was racing. What was I supposed to answer? I didn’t even know at this point. I haven’t taken therapy for a couple months now, and usually they started with talking about the excruciating events that had happened while we were kidnapped. Instead, Mr. Smith just wants to start with this? Why was that?
“S-sure.” I nearly squeaked. I never did good at any sort of therapy. I was always too nervous. And then they’d pressure me to answer when I couldn’t. I was afraid that he might do the same.
“Alrighty then,” He tapped his pen on the notebook, “Would you mind telling me when you started feeling this way?”
“Last weekend? I th-think.” I started silently tapping my foot on the carpeted ground. Just another thing I do when I was nervous. Mr. Smith didn’t seem to mind or notice.
“Hm. Did anything… happen around that time?” He wrote something down and I had no idea what it was. Was it bad? Was it good? Did I somehow say too much to get me placed back into the hospital? Please say no. I don’t want to go back there with a bunch of screaming kids throwing the plastic chairs while I was just trying to make some cookies.
“U-um, just this project thing for Mrs. Kay.”
“The project where you spent two weeks with a giant in school?” He asked, his face full of curiosity. I nodded my head, playing with my hands again. I’m pretty sure he wrote that down.
“May I ask who your partner was then?” Oh. Not a question I was too prepared for. I slightly turned to the door, the window peaking inside covered by a piece of cloth. Did it really matter who my partner was? I don’t think it did honestly.
“Ryker…” His eyebrows shot up in shock as he chuckled lightly, “Ryker Stone?” I nodded. I’m pretty sure that was his last name. How did he know who he was though? There was no way he could know all eight hundred people in this school. That seem a bit over-the-top.
“From my understanding, you went to his house last Friday and something happened over there?” I nodded. I shouldn’t have hugged him. I shouldn’t have hugged him. I shouldn’t have-
“Was it bad thing?” His eyebrows were scrunched up like he already knew what my answer was going to be. Nothing bad happened. It’s just that my thoughts like taking over me sometimes. A lot of times. I make a good situation and turn it into a bad one. I shook my head at his question.
Mr. Smith laughed, “That’s Ryker for you. Not a dull moment with him.” He said it like he knew him personally… maybe he did? I mean he is the counsellor. I just didn’t think he worked with giants as well. So if he knew Ryker… does that mean Ryker knew him? Of course that’s what that meant.
“Back on topic though, I did some looking around on you. I found some… interesting things, but also a record from past therapists. All different notes on you, except for one. That you’re known to overthink situations. Do you think that’s why you’ve been so upset lately? You have a thought on your head from the event that happened?” He wasn’t going to ask what happened? I mean, thank goodness because I don’t think I could answer, but he really wasn’t going to ask me? This guy has a weird way of getting people to open up, but it’s working. It’s working amazingly.
I nodded my head. Ryker doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I couldn’t stop thinking about this. I knew it was true. I messed everything up that Friday night ruined things between us. The worst part is that I was actually warming up to him. He really did feel like friend even though I was deadly afraid.
“Do you mind telling me what’s been on your mind? It’s alright if you can’t.” He asked softly, already knowing that this might be hard for me. It is. It really, really is. I didn’t want to lose the only friend I’ll ever make in my entire life. Even before I was kidnapped, all of the other kids didn’t bother talking to the shy, timid kid who sat alone by himself at lunch and never had a friend to play with on the playground during school.
Now I was in high school where people still look at me the same way. I didn’t want to lose someone who was so nice to me. Who actually takes the time to talk and hang out with me. Is that what’s wrong with me? I didn’t want to see someone I care about leave me?
That stupid cage had ruined me.
“I-I don’t think Ryker w-w-wants to be around me,” Tears stung my eyes, and I tried my best to blink them away while sucking in a deep breath, “I-I like to think we’re f-friends… but I d-did something stupid and now that this project is over I think he’s just done with me.” A couple tears fell down my face. I wiped them with the back of my sleeve, looking down at the ground. I really didn’t want to lose the one potential friend I’ve made in my entire life.
The room was quiet except when I heard Mr. Smith pass the box of tissues my way, showing a sympathetic face, “You don’t want to lose a friend?” I shook my head, calming myself down before I make this even more embarrassing for myself. I haven’t cried for a while. It felt good for some reason. Too bad I wasn’t going to let it go any further than a couple tears.
“And what if Ryker still wants to be friends? What would you think then?”
That he’ll eventually grow tired of me like everyone else. That it’s only short lived. He’ll eventually forget about me.
“I’d be grateful… but I doubt he’d remember me after graduation.” I sadly answered. Mr. Smith wrote something down, ripping out the page he was writing on and handing me the paper. I grabbed it with shaky hands, looking over the paper. My name, age, things I’ve done while sitting in his office, and some squiggly lines. He didn’t write down questions? No notes on what he should do next?
“I don’t like writing down the questions I ask. I think people would prefer to keep them said and not on paper,” He chuckled, “And as for your tiny piece of advice, you and Ryker aren’t so different, and I doubt he thinks ill of you.” That was it? No other questions? He wasn’t going to pry me open? He wasn’t going to force me to spill my guts to people who didn’t want waste their time anyways? No words could describe how confused and happy I was at the same time.
“Th-that’s it?” I muttered, trying to figure out if he was playing a trick on me or not, but he nodded his head and opened the door for me. I grabbed my backpack, stuffing the sheet of notebook paper in it and walked out of the door.
“Thank you.” I mumbled.
Mr. Smith smiled, “Come anytime you want to talk. Just remember after school on Thursday, okay?” I nodded, thinking hard about how Mr. Smith believes, in all honesty, that Ryker won’t just leave me. He could be right. I just have to trust in his word.
—————————————————————-
Yup. Nathan’s afraid that Ryker will leave him now that their little project is over. I wonder what happens next?
I don’t know how I feel about this chapter. I like and I don’t at the same time. We’ll see. Thank you for reading! Love you guys ❤️
#G/t#g/t writing#g/t community#sfw g/t#giant/tiny#G/t angst#restoration#Oc: Nathan#oc: ryker#Nathan just wants a friend🥺#Yeah i didn’t know what to do#Next chapter will def have something tho#I kind of liked how this one came out???#nvm I don’t#Thanks for the support!
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First: Kamala Harris is doing an interview on Fox News today. That’s important. Every Republican not deep, deep, deep into the cult has given other Republicans permission to vote for her. Watch for how it goes. Early votes are skewing real hard Democratic; we can only hope this starts an avalanche.
Now, back to the shitgibbon:
This wtfery happened a few days ago. Repeatedly. They’re all here. Watch his markov chain generator malfunction.
This 39-minute-long what-is-even-happening happened Monday. He stopped his town hall and decided just to hang out on stage and listen to music for half an hour. (More video.) Most of the time he just stood there, then occasionally he’d dance a little.
Even the Russian propagandists made fun of it. They normally puff him up as serious and important and this was too much even for them. It felt very much like a “look at this clown we’ve put into power. Look at him. Isn’t it hilarious?” victory lap.
He didn’t do much better yesterday, cancelling an interview with CNBC before keeping his appointment with Bloomberg News and the Economic Club of Chicago, where amidst his many lies he also said everyone in the world ever is and has been totally wrong about tariffs being bad for the economy (Smoot-Hartley turning the Panic of ’29 into the Great Depression be damned) and also that children could do the jobs of auto workers.
Get out on the assembly line, kids. Build some more gas cars. Maybe we’ll buy you an ice cream before the ocean floods the coastline some more.
Where, oh where, are the New York Times’s “too old” people now? Where is the drilldown? Where is the baited breath, watching for the stutterer to stutter a little again and declare him senile, broken down, and infirm? Ah, but they want him in office – so why would they do that?
People on TikTok were mostly “he is so high.” I think they might’ve messed up his dosage.
The argument that the real plan is to get him into office and then immediately trigger the 25th Amendment in favour of Couchfuker Vance still doesn’t quite hold up to me – they’ll Weekend-at-Bernie’s this motherfucker until he literally falls over dead, since he’s the God Emperor, and also since that gets Vance a de facto third term without changing or ignoring the Constitution. And he’s not continually breaking down, he’s okay enough a lot of the time. Not all of it, maybe. But enough.
But I have to admit, the Vance idea sounds less unreasonable every day.
The problem of course is that when he’s not having a McConnell-esque stall-out, he’s promising to us the armed forces against his political enemies and making it illegal to say things he doesn’t like, all while his fascist friend Mike Flynn keeps rhapsodising about executing anyone who opposes him.
That’s the hard, ugly reality. They don’t even need him to do that, or really, any of the work of Project 2025. He’s never given a single fuck about policy, just about power and hurting people, and they’ll deliver that for him in spades, all while they end secular government in the United States.
That is Vance’s agenda, after all. And that of his backers. All they need from Trump is the occasional scribbled signature.
He’s signed a lot of autographs. It’s all muscle memory at this point. He’ll do that just fine.
And that’s absolutely all they need.
So. I’ve already given you all the arguments I have to reach anyone who might be reachable. People on the fringes of the cult, people who “don’t like politics” and “think politics is boring” so refuse to pay attention. Trump here himself is destroying the idea that he’s the “vote for my wallet,” given what tariffs will do to prices and the economy, but here’s a bit from Rachael Maddow with more thoughts on that whole nonsense. Maybe you’ll find some good arguments in there.
We’re very much in the home stretch, team. Don’t hold anything back, because as I keep saying, this one is for all of the marbles. Bring everything you’ve got and leave it all out there on the field…
…’cause we’re gonna need it.
20 days remain.
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Bond to Happen: Part 15
Trigger Warnings: canon typical violence, magical self harm, technical suicide (feel free to message me for details) Word Count: 3000ish
You call Matt that afternoon. “Do you really think that going to the WBI is a good idea?”
“I think it’s worth the chance, all things considered.”
“And you really think you and Foggy can protect me? At least give me enough time to find a way out if things go bad?”
“I do.”
“Then I’m in. What do I need to do?”
“Paperwork, and a lot of it. Then we go to the WBI, file for a Review of Identification,
submit some of your blood, and a formal reading of your magic.”
“When do we start?”
Matt made room in his schedule so the two of you could begin that evening. It was a lot of paperwork and you were grateful when Foggy came by to help, no questions asked. Much of it had information only you could answer. When your abilities had begun to show up and how they progressed. Family information with as many details about any nonhuman members as possible. Sleeping habits, eating habits, sexual habits, fears, hobbies. Even your favorite color. The more personal things you filled out on your own, but much of it you let Foggy and Matt record in their professional interpretation of your words.
You call Billy before it gets too late. “Hey Bill, would it be okay if I took a few days off? There are a few things I want to get done before I come back to work.”
“Of course, take as much time as you need. My offer still stands, if you want a couple weeks paid time off, it’s yours.”
“Three days should be fine, no longer than a week. I’ll keep you updated in case things change.”
“I’m here if you wanna talk or if you just want some company.”
“Thanks, Billy.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
You hang up and turn back to Matt who has a strange look on his face.
“What’s that face for, Matt?”
“You and Russo have gotten pretty close.”
“That’s not a question,” you point out.
“He seems… nice.”
“He is. He’s actually a really good guy.”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Yeah…”
“Do you ever think it might be a bit much? The presents, the whole ‘shoulder to cry on’ act, catering to your needs? That inhibitor cuff alone is a pretty big gesture to come from a friend who also happens to be your boss.”
You have to fight the urge to be defensive. “I’ve known him for a while, Matt, it’s not like this all came on overnight.”
“You’re right. You’re right.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’.”
“Sometimes he just seems off to my senses. Like there’s something I’m missing. I can never catch him in a lie, his heart stays steady all the time. It’s just strange, is all.”
“Maybe you can’t catch him in a lie because he isn’t lying to any of us, Matthew.”
“Maybe, Blue. Just be careful with him?”
“I’m always careful, Matt,” you bristle before softening your tone. “But I’ll keep what you said in mind.”
*********
You wore your most professional outfit that Monday morning as you, Matt, and Foggy went to the WBI New York office. You were grateful that Matt and Foggy never left you alone through the whole process. The investigators took a few samples of your blood and hair, which was the easiest part of all of it. The magic scan was uncomfortable as they asked you to activate your abilities and hold them in that state. You were honest and told them you were magically exhausted. The technician assured you that as long as you could use a small amount of power, the scan would work. It just needed to see what pathways were lighting up and how.
The technology was a beautifully intricate combination of something like an x-ray with complex spells woven into it.
The whole process took the better part of the day and you were dead on your feet when you finally got back to your apartment.
*********
“Russo.”
“Hey, Billy, it’s me. Are you busy?”
“Hey, sweetheart, not at all. How are you doing?”
“Better actually. The cuff has been a lifesaver. I was wondering if you were free to hangout sometime in the next few days? I was thinking of visiting Central Park since I won’t be as overwhelmed anymore and thought maybe you could come with me?”
“I’d love to, are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yup, I’ll just be home relaxing all day.”
“You deserve the rest, sweetheart. I’ll swing by and pick you up at around 3?”
“That works, I’ll see you then.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Me too. Bye, Billy.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
You smile to yourself as you hang up.
*********
“It’s so nice to be able to enjoy being outside, Billy. You have no idea how loud everything was before the cuff.”
“I’m glad it’s been helpful.” Billy holds out his arm for you to take as you stroll through the busy park. You take it with a little laugh.
“What?” He asks.
“It’s just nice to feel like a real person again.”
“How long has it been that bad?”
“Most of the time I've known you,” you admit.
“Shit, sweetheart. You shoulda said something.”
“I kind of just accepted it. For a while there at least.”
“And now?”
“Now… I’m trying to hope for something better.”
“You deserve the world. One day, someone will give it to you.”
“Maybe. I’m taking baby steps for now. Matt and Foggy are helping me with some witch stuff, I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.”
“Is this walk part of those baby steps?”
“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you speak. “Karen says I need to spend more time with people outside of work.”
“And I was the first person on your list. Aw, sweetheart, I’m touched.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” You roll your eyes at him as he grins at you.
“I’ll do my best.”
“What have I missed over the last couple days? Fill me in on the office gossip.”
“I’m the CEO, I don’t gossip.”
“Of course not.”
“But now that we’re on the topic, I did hear that Anvil has been divided by some strong opinions on the espresso machine.”
“I knew it. Did Josie end up going through with her plan?”
“She did, no one could tell the difference.” Billy continues sharing how everyone reacted once Josie came clean and how it led to a mild prank war the next day. The two of you were laughing and leaning into each other, enjoying the afternoon when the hair on the back of your neck prickled.
“Stop for a second, something feels wrong.” Your words halt Billy’s animated rambling and his expression turns serious. The sun has barely started setting, warm light still breaking through the trees of central park. There are few things that should be able to penetrate the protection of the cuff. The first and only one you think of in that moment, is if your life is in immediate danger.
“I thought you were wearing your cuff?” He looks down at your wrist and you shake your head.
“I am, I don’t know what it is.” You pull off your cuff to try and get a feel for what’s setting the hairs on the back of your neck on end.
“What do you see?” He asks, leaning down to look into your eyes.
“I can’t see anything, but I have a bad feeling, Billy.” It’s pure instinct, something deep in your gut urging you to run.
“Let’s get back home. You stay right next to me. Got it, sweetheart?” His words leave no room for argument and you nod your understanding. He takes your hand in his, keeping his free hand near his hip, where his gun is. You are almost out of the park, you had mostly stayed on the outskirts anyway. You can just barely see the street when a jolt of fear runs up your spine, telling you to hit the ground. With an unnatural burst of strength, you jerk Billy towards you, dropping to the ground as a gunshot pierces the air, the bullet flying right through the spot the two of you had been.
“Stay low, move behind those trees-”
“There’s more than one, others on the ground around us,” you tell him as your Sight flickers in and out. Billy nodded, pulling out his gun. He didn’t seem rattled at all. He was focused, with a terrifying lethal look on his face. You were glad it wasn’t directed at you.
“Go to those trees and hide, text Frank, but stay very quiet and do not move. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” you say and make a low dash for a thick pocket of trees with enough bushes around the base that you would be out of sight. By the time you could peek between branches, Billy had already disappeared. You shoot off a quick text to Frank, including your live location and switching your phone to silent.
We are being attacked, multiple armed assailants, Central Park.
Then you stick your phone firmly into the waistband of your jeans, under your shirt and jacket so you don’t lose it in case of a struggle. It is eerily quiet for only a few moments, but those moments seem to drag on for an eternity. Your breath sounds as loud as thunder to your own ears and you work on slowing your racing heart. Your Sight is erratic, like a TV with a bad signal, only blurry images are coming through and so much of them are filled with blood.
The sound of gun fire ruins any hope you have of calming yourself and now all you can think about is Billy. You can’t see him, in any way, you can’t feel his aura. You can’t hear him, only the occasional unrecognizable yell or grunt mixed in with so many gunshots. In hindsight, you were a little too focused on what might be happening with Billy and not worried enough about your own surroundings. With your Sight, no one with the intent to harm you should have been able to get so close without you noticing.
You guess you have to accept that your Sight is officially broken when you notice the masked man creeping towards you, not even a dozen paces away. He sees you, you know he does when your eyes lock. You move to run, blood rushing through your ears in a feeling so strangely reminiscent of the ocean. Your panic is all consuming. You are weak. Alone. Unarmed. Sightless. Likely magicless. With no self defense training. All you could do was run, and even that wasn’t enough. The man caught you in seconds, tackling you to the ground as you let out a scream. Your attacker wrenches you onto your back and grips your face.
“What’s your name?” He yells. You shake your head, mouth frozen in fear. He doesn’t like that. The man backhands you causing your head to jerk sharply to the left as you see stars, bright blotches of light to contrast with the dark tinge to the edge of your vision. He jerks your head so you face him again, this time, he presses a knife to your neck. You can’t see it, but you can feel it as it shallowly cuts the vulnerable skin of your throat.
“Your name! Tell me your name!” He demands, spittle flying. You give your legal name carefully and it seems to be what he wants to hear as he drags you upright, keeping the knife close to your neck as you stand. He pulls your back to his chest, free arm pinning you as the other shoves the knife until it connects with skin. You don’t think he intends to kill you in this moment. But he isn’t being very careful with the blade and you’ve been cut twice now. You can feel the blood oozing down your throat.
“RUSSO!” He roars. The only thing keeping you from flinching at the sound is that sharp knife.
“Let her go, Mills.” You can’t see him, but you recognize Billy's voice. You’re relieved that he’s still alive. You knew he was capable, likely as capable as Frank when he acted as the Punisher, but you’d never seen him in action before.
“Drop your weapons first,” your captor orders.
“You know you aren’t making it out of here, Alex. Your team is dead. You only have two options, kill her or let her go. You’re gonna die either way. You just get to pick how quick it is.” There’s a quality to Billy’s voice that you have never heard before. Not when he argued with Frank, not when he yelled at his team for messing up, not when he was trying to scare new recruits. It held his usual confidence, but where he usually sounded playful, now he sounded like a predator toying with his food. Confidence, amusement, anger, murderous intent. A combination you had never expected to hear from the man you knew.
Billy slowly moves into your view. You admit, your vision is still a bit blurry, but you swear his eyes are completely black, the color spreading into the white of his eye. He’s holding a gun, different from what you originally saw him with, and it’s aimed carefully towards your attacker- and you, given the position you are in.
Two bangs go through the air and Billy lets out an animalistic snarl of pain as he drops to his knee, trying to see where the shots came from. You struggle as you see blood pooling from his stomach. He moves to stand, to at least aim his gun at the new enemy before they can shoot again. He isn’t fast enough. Another bang and his right shoulder jerked back.
“Not the whole team, Russo. Guess that cozy desk job made you sloppy,” a feminine voice calls out. “Don’t worry, your pretty little pet witch will live. The Boss wants her unharmed, for now at least. You know how he gets. Go ahead and say goodbye before I put you down.”
Time seems to slow to a halt and you are hyper aware of the blood on your skin, the knife at your throat, the throbbing of your cheek. Billy is going to die if you don’t do something. You are going to be abducted and Billy will be dead.
You refuse to lose him. So you end up doing something positively insane. Something that will kill you. Better to use your death to save someone you love, than live with his death. Your magic reserves are low like usual. Not enough to help in this situation. You need another source of life, another aura that is easily accessible in this moment. The man holding you has no exposed skin for you to grab, and even if he did, you quite literally are not strong enough to pull from his aura forcefully. It’s an unfamiliar practice with an unfamiliar aura. No, your would-be abductors are not an option. You need an aura you are intimately familiar with, one you use and manipulate on a daily basis.
Blood magic is illegal, and energy cannibalization is used only by the most desperate, inane witches. Well, you never claimed to be smart. In this moment, this heartbeat drawn on into a thousand, you’ve made your decision. You slowly press into the knife, quickening your blood loss without killing yourself immediately, and you draw on the power of your own life. As soon as the connection via blood is made, you force your magic to draw from your own life force. Electricity runs through your skin and you’ve never felt more powerful. A bright flame that will burn out quickly, so you need to be precise.
A touch of magic to heat the handle of the blade, swiftly catching it as the man holding you drops the weapon in pain. You pull the bangle off your wrist to reduce the block on your energy. You throw a wall of energy in front of Billy, protecting him from any attacks as you whirl around and slash the throat of the man who held you. The knife is light in your hand, the spray of blood warm on your face, the feeling of ending a life a twist in your skull. The woman has opened fire on you, but your magic pushes it off course as you charge her. She meets the same fate as her comrade. You force your Sight to work, checking for immediate threats, before turning to Billy, dropping the wall of energy. You can’t hear his words. You don’t have time to listen anyway. Your heart rate is already dropping. Your hands grasp his shoulder and stomach. You don’t hear the hiss of pain, but you register the movement and order him to stay still. The voice that comes out of your mouth is not your own. It’s empty, emotionless, overlapping in echoes upon itself. The shot to his stomach has done significant damage. Your magic pulls out the bullet and prevents more blood from escaping his body. You are running out of energy, so you take your stolen knife, coated in the blood of your enemies, and drag it against your inner forearm. A movement swift and precise, intended to draw blood, but not deep enough to kill. Your Anima Viverra will kill you soon enough, no need to make it any messier. With the final draw of life from your blood, you place your hands over Billy’s stomach wounds and force every last drop of magic you have into them.
You don’t hear his words. You don’t feel his hands as they try to stop you. As they try to stop the flow of blood from your skin. As they beg you to stop, to focus on him.
The once fatal, toxin filled wounds are now mostly healed. Satisfied with your work, you allow the exhaustion to consume you as your body tries and fails to heal itself. Then you die. ------------- I don't have it in me to keep up with a tag list right now. Thank you for your interest and support.
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Do you ever have a case of the Mondays? maybe every monday 😆 yeah me too, especially when it came to building my spiritual practice about 10 years ago.
Motivation and Consistency go hand and hand with each other. Whether you’ve been guns blazing since the new year began or you’re still struggling to get your motivation juices flowing, I want to tell you a secret that may potentially help.
It’s Called Self-Motivation Triggers!
I honestly just made that up, (maybe it’s a thing) BUT it works.
Do you have your own self-motivational triggers?
I recently downloaded an app to help boost my routine, it’s called Roubit (It’s like Animal crossing pocket camp for your Routine & building habits) and I added a SIREN Alarm for my Exercise Routine on my phone.
…..Guys it scares the crap out of me every time I hear it 😆 but it works. It helps keep me consistent and it’s often very loud so I’m immediately alert on the task at hand.
Keyword: Consistent.
It’s now a Self-motivational trigger for me to get up and do my daily Exercise/Movement break.
Sometimes That is all it takes.
There are many different self-motivators out there to help you stay consistent.
In the New year, getting back into the flow of things, being more consistent on your new goals or new aspired spiritual practice – It can be hard!
This week’s episode I wanted to spend some time talking about a very common problem in the spiritual community.
How do I get more consistent with my spiritual practice?! If you have a hard time with self-motivation, Getting in the flow zone, or simply being consistent – You’re going to love this one,
Want to Explore each self-motivating Tip I have for your Spiritual practice?
Catch the full Episode on the Youtube or Season 3 of the Podcast.
youtube
LISTEN ON YOUTUBE
LISTEN ON THE PODCAST
Get Your foundation Right First for your Practice
When you understand your form of Consistency, it can be incredibly powerful for spiritual growth. However, a lot of us can struggle with this because What is one person’s form of consistency is different from another person’s form of consistency. When it comes to consistency in spiritual practice, there are a few things that you should keep in mind to help build a solid foundation for your spiritual practice.
What do you want to do for your Practice?
Without a doubt, you have to know what you want to do for your spiritual practice. I know it sounds obvious, but some people will be like, well, one day I want to meditate, then oracle cards and visualization , then sound frequencies on youtube. I get it, It’s fine if you want to just tune into your intuition and see what you want to do.
However, it’s so much easier when you set a date with yourself and get clear.
For example, if you have a set practice of meditation. Do you have a playlist of those meditations or do you just meditate by pranayama or somatic breath? Okay, now if you have that, where are you meditating?
Do you have a space where you show up to every day to meditate or is it random? Like some days it’s in bed, some days it’s on the couch, some days it’s over here. The problem with moving things around so fluidly is we have to remember that we are creatures of habit.
When we don’t honor the fact of our human behavior, we often will fall off track more easily if we were just doing things by habit.
Another example, is if you have a visualization practice, maybe you set aside a jar full of ideas to pull from for visualization. This is actually something I’ve heard many people like to do for a manifestation practice. They have a visualization jar full of the scenarios they want to visualize and they have this jar in an easy-to-access place so they can stay consistent with their visualization practice.
In the same regard, if you have a journaling practice, do you have a place to journal? Where do you journal? Do you own a journal, for starters? Like, You can’t get started on your talk of journaling practice if you forget to buy the journal. These pointers seem obvious but we have to honor our human behavior and get the foundations right first.
Your Foundation Check List:
Remember We are Creatures of Habit – FIRST
What is your Space Or Place You Practice?
Do you have the Materials Ready to go?
What do you choose to do?
Number one, What is Your spiritual practice?
Meditation
Journaling
Spiritual Prayer
Sound Frequencies
Intention Setting Practice
Visualization
Oracle/Divination
Talking to Spirit Guides/Higher Self/God
Bible Study and prayer
Chakra Healing Prompts
Crystals and Oils
Other ideas
Now, secondly, Do you make it easy for yourself to do it?
If you have a meditation practice, do you have a playlist on your phone or your computer that you can turn to for those meditations? Create a Youtube Playlist, a Apple or Spotify Playlist. Do you already have them good to go? This will help you create more consistency more easily in your daily practice. Here’s the thing, we have to deal with our resistance every day and sometimes the hardest part is literally showing up. The hardest part is battling the negative or egoic resistance to simply showing up. That’s half of the battle.
So the best thing you can ever do for yourself is to make it as easy as possible to show up. Because that will help when it comes to combating the resistance. It’s easier to show up when your yoga mat is already in the living room, same with putting on your workout clothes to workout each day. In the same regard, it’s easier to show up, when you have the clarity already in place. Example: I journal every day at the kitchen table at 7am. I work out at 1pm. I meditate at 8pm.
Then if you really want some brownie points: I highly recommend getting a habit or routine tracker to help you stay motivated or incentivize yourself to show up even more! This is the beauty of Consistency!
Begin to Think about: How you can Start to make it easier for yourself? How can I make it so that I will be committed to show up?
Making it Easier Check list:
Make a Playlist
Have a Visualization Jar full of Ideas
Set a Date and Time
Have the Clothes or Outfit Ready
Put it in a Planner or Habit Tracker App
Third, When do you practice?
Change Begins in our Daily Routines. Would you like to practice in the morning? practice in the evening or practice at midday?
You have to realize that it’s almost like you’re jumpstarting a habit. This is what consistency is built on.
Now, if you like to do it in the morning, I invite you to explore, how is your morning routine? What do you do for your morning routine? Do you immediately just reach for your phone? Because I bet you’re probably going to be less likely to meditate. Instead of reaching for your phone, maybe you should meditate before reaching the phone. For example, you want to kind of just play with this, in terms of how can you create a better routine for yourself so that you are working in favor of your personal needs.
In the same regard, with an evening routine, if it’s to meditate for 15 minutes, but yet you have to deal with, more unpredictable family time tasks (putting away dinner, dealing with homework, kid bedtimes, dance practice, Movie nights, etc. ) As much as you’d like to, you’re not going to commit to that because you’re unpredictably busy. Honor your own Routine but be reasonable with yourself.
Be Flexible and explore; what is your aligned schedule?
What is my dream schedule for my spiritual practice?
Fourth, Give yourself a Challenge to Stay Ultra Committed To Success
Consistency is created through momentum and repetition. It’s also created through intention.
But at the end of the day, what it really comes back to is my favorite thing, It’s a challenge. One of the easiest ways to get more consistent is to create a challenge for yourself. Whether it’s 28 days, 30 days, 40 days, 90 days, 60 days. It doesn’t matter! It’s important to create a challenge for yourself to show up because this will trigger the reward centers in your brain to motivate you to show up each day. Find Your Why. Make it an incentive if it aligns with your lifestyle and values.
At the same time, to develop a consistent thread of momentum, you have to allow yourself to show up with repetition. Now, repetition is part of what creates a challenge, a challenge!
The repetition will allow you to create it into a habit, and that’s what builds momentum.
So when you think about how, when it goes to any level of thread of consistency, it might not be that you want to start. Gun, ho, and do seven days of meditation all at once, but you could do meditation for three days out of the week
The next week, you bump it up to four days out of the week. Then you stay at four days a week, and then you kind of ease into five days a week. And then after five days a week, you can go to six days a week. Now, this is a very valuable tool for consistency because what it does is it doesn’t trip your nervous system to be overwhelmed by change.
Don’t Change too Rapidly
it’s part of your biology that If you change too rapidly, you will start to self-sabotage unconsciously because your nervous system won’t handle it well. It doesn’t feel safe to go the extra mile yet, but that’s okay because that just means you need to dial it back a little.
bump it down. Instead, 5 days a week, do 3 days a week.
I’ve done many different challenges off and on throughout the years. For example, I’ve done manifestation challenges where I do 30 days of intention setting. I’ve done gratitude challenges of 30 days of gratitude.
These work. Above all, they work because there’s so much momentum behind it that builds it into a habit.
As a result, eventually that creates a snowball effect. Suddenly you notice, you’ll have more spiritual guidance, spiritual wisdom & growth. You may experience better health as you’ll feel more calm in your nervous system. The list can go on and on and on, but what you’ll ultimately find is that you’re more in a place of spiritual alignment.
I hope this conversation deeply served you.
I’d love to know, which one do you think you going to work on next?
Are you going to work on where you meditate? What you want to do for your spiritual practice?
I’d love to know what is your spiritual practice? I’m always intrigued on knowing what is everyone’s unique spiritual practice because it’s such a fascinating thing.
Let me know in the comments and if you like our videos give it a thumbs up, subscribe for weekly videos every friday or Podcasts every Sunday!
Have a great week
P.S. Check out my new series, the Spiritual Awakening Roadmap! I’m hosting a FREE training series where you’ll learn:
✨ How to Increase your Intuition, Be more Present-minded, and Enhance your Self-Awareness in as little as 5 Days
✨How to Get Over feeling Overwhelmed and Confused about the path: Learn in 5 Days the simplified Process of Spiritual Awakening that has taken me over 11 years to piece together! (YES I’m giving it to you for free. 🥂)
✨How to Step into more flow & Alignment (without excessive meditation)
✨ My exact Guide for Spiritual Awakening to Accelerate Your Spiritual Growth + how to replicate it with Action steps
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https://www.theawakenedstate.net/build-a-consistent-spiritual-practice-in-4-simple-steps/
Build a Consistent Spiritual Practice in 4 Simple Steps
Do you ever have a case of the Mondays? maybe every monday 😆 yeah me too, especially when it came to building my spiritual practice about 10 years ago. Motivation and Consistency go hand and hand with each other. Whether you’ve been guns blazing since the new year began or you’re still struggling to get your motivation […]
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Chronicles Of Owning A Hybrid| Chapter 1: Here You Are
Pairing: Ragdoll Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Female Reader
Genre: Hybrid AU, slow burn, eventual romance
Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of past harassment/bullying, brief mentions of being gaslighted
W/C: 2.2k
A/N: So, I wrote something. This was very spontaneous of me but this is my first BTS and hybrid related fic. I very much have plans to have this as a small series. From short to long chapters. I have no idea how much this will be updated.
Comments and kudos are encouraged!
It wasn’t supposed to happen, truthfully.
You were asked by a friend to attend a consultation with them because they felt nervous about going in alone. They needed some support so, going with them was going to be fine. Because that’s all that was supposed to happen.
Now, here you were at your appointment, alone because you weren’t sure how to ask your friend since they were home still getting associated with their hybrid. Nobody knew you were here doing this. Reviewing over a cat hybrid- a Ragdoll- that was on his fourth strike.
Past families that adopted this hybrid before only saw the breed he was. A pretty Ragdoll cat. Not the human he mostly presented as. They thought that just because he was mixed with a Ragdoll meant he would be gentle, calm, and sociable. A known cat breed to be perfect with families. What they got was the complete opposite.
The most they seemed to be able to tell you was he’d been adopted four times already, the longest housing being six months. He was quiet and didn’t interact much with the other hybrids in the shelter. Mostly stayed in the same areas in the room they had for them. The way they spoke about him, made you think they were trying to discourage you from adoption. You couldn’t see what was so wrong with him even when they were describing him as distant and antisocial, overall unfriendly. It still didn’t make you rethink it for some reason. Something in you wanted to give him a place to call home after hearing all this.
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A few weeks went by with no word from the shelter. You were starting to think the extra shifts for the past month and a half at work for preparation were in vain. Perhaps they were being more cautious of his strikes and worried you would return him like all the others. If it was, for this reason, you really couldn’t blame them to be picky about who was to attempt adopting him next. You could only hope they cared so much for those in their care.
As you washed some dishes that had been a bit overdue, your phone rang. You weren’t quick to answer, at first, as hope had gone from high to low in the few weeks. Though, you still dried your hands-off because it could have been work. Who knew you’d be seeing the number you’d familiarize yourself with. Your heartbeat must have doubled as you stumbled over, sliding the answer button. “H-Hello?” You answered, cringing over your nervous voice. “This is Hope’s Shelter calling for (Y/N)(L/N), we were wondering if you were still interested in adopting?” The words felt like they were going through one ear and out the other. You weren’t all too sure what to expect when answering the call but hope had suddenly being reassured. “Yes, of course!” You answered almost too quickly. The eagerness felt as if it was spilling out of you at this point. “Great! Would Thursday be fine for you to come in?” It was currently Monday, another few days was nothing to wait for after these weeks. “That works out perfectly.”
After the short goodbyes were said, you stood there in your kitchen nearly dumbfounded. You were officially days away from adopting a hybrid. Suddenly, the mixed feeling of excitement and worry came over you. The first week was only filled with thoughts of not living in your apartment alone anymore. In the past, you had roommates. Some worked out just fine and others not so much. To the point, you never wanted to experience them again unless it was a close friend.
The second week was filled with doubts of if you even seemed worthy enough to take care of another, especially when the other couldn’t exactly take care of themselves. Hybrids didn’t have much freedom. They couldn’t go anywhere alone without their owners. Unless they were service hybrids, which there was a lot to go through to get them certified. They really couldn’t do anything and suddenly thinking about that, you realize how weird it’s going to be for someone to call or to even refer to you as their ‘owner’ will be.
There was no way in hell you could treat hybrids as a pet. They were way more human than human and capable of feelings of understanding, not at all saying normal animals weren’t capable of such. There were a few times you’d gone over to a friend’s house and they introduced you to their hybrid. Sure they had some traits of the animal they were mixed with, but they acted like their human part in front of you for the most part. This was nearly the only time you’d interacted with hybrids. So, the experience was on the low of how they truly acted behind closed doors.
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The few days of waiting went by sluggishly. Mentally you had a list of things to do or things you thought you needed to do before Thursday. You went out and bought a few different types of clothes, not much as you had no idea of what he would like. Bought more food than you’d ever stocked your home with before, again, not knowing what he would like. There was so much you didn’t even know about him yet, not even his name.
Standing in front of the shelter, the weeks and days of waiting were finally over. The nerves and enthusiasm had mellowed out in the slow waiting days. Though, you couldn’t help feel a little nervous walking into the shelter.
Almost immediately, you were pulled into an office to go over some paperwork. It was nearly the same as papers to adopt a normal animal. It didn’t seem as strict since you didn’t need things for an animal. Though, you were surprised at how they didn’t seem so… disheartening towards you anymore.
Signing the papers felt unreal as the pen glided across the paper. You had officially adopted a hybrid.
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Being a hybrid wasn’t all it was cut out to be, at least, not for Yoongi. Spending nearly all his life in the shelter. Maybe a year and a half were in actual homes. It was probably not even that if he was being honest with himself, but after the third home, he stopped counting the days and hoping.
The first time he was adopted, he was around ten years old, a little old for being adopted but nothing too bad. The family was looking for a hybrid around their twin son and daughter’s age, and Yoongi just happened to be two years younger than them. It was perfect they thought. It seemed like a happy family a month in but there was change. The children were constantly harassing him, pulling his ears and tail, pressured him to do things that would get the adults involved to the point of punishments.
It went on for months before they returned him, saying he was a deceiver and untameable. Yoongi was unsure of what they meant by this as it was their children who were the liars. Even when he told the caregivers of the time he had with them, it never seemed like they thought he was telling the truth either.
It was some years before Yoongi was adopted again. Age thirteen going on fourteen. He was adopted by a young couple. Must have been between the ages twenty-two to twenty-five. He never got around to asking because as soon as he was there he was brought back. The couple seemed to want to prove to themselves that they could take care of another breathing being. That is what he gathered by overhearing them a few times. All it did was tear them apart in the end over disagreements on how to take care of him.
The next two times were practically the same. One was lonely while the other was another person trying to prove something to themselves. Yoongi was done with these humans and their selfish ways. He didn’t want to attempt to get close with them anymore when he knew that they would return him like a replaceable item in the end.
Yet, another was trying to adopt him again. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He thought to himself when he was dragged into the office to be told someone was interested in him. Being twenty-five years old as a hybrid was considered old. Unadoptable. Plus he was on his fourth strike. A fifth- and by law- would mean he would have to be put to sleep.
The weeks dragged on because of him constantly denying to see through with this person’s desire to adopt him. It was an actual decision between life and death. He thought about it though. Would he rather be stuck in here? Wasting away inclosed in white walls or to live out in the world just a little bit longer, if the person would let him out that was.
-----------------
The introduction of you and the hybrid, who you now knew as Yoongi was, well, short and awkward. Was it to be expected? The short answer is yes. Yoongi seemed unfazed and distant right away which, in a way, you know he would be like this. The real question was, was he always going to be like this. You were new to each other, so feeling like strangers was going to be present for a while.
The taxi ride home was silent. Nothing but the sound of wheels on the pavement with random songs playing on the radio softly. You wanted to make some kind of conversation with Yoongi, you did, but with awkwardness still lingering heavily in the air, it was difficult to start with anything. It was interesting to spot his ears out of the corner of your eye, twitching ever so often.
The climb up the stairs was just as silent. Nothing but the taps of feet with some huffs from you nearly the top. No matter how many times you’d walked up these four flights of stairs, you were sure to always be out of breath before reaching your door.
By the time you reached your door, you were indeed out of breath, and with the last huff, you pulled out your key unlocking the door, pushing it open revealing the seemingly small apartment. “And home.” You spoke out as you began pulling your shoes off, placing them on a rack before slipping into house slippers. “Oh, here’s some slippers for you. If you want to wear them.” You already owned some for when you had guests but you went ahead and bought new ones specially for Yoongi. Looking at them now, they seemed a bit… small. Though it didn’t seem to matter as Yoongi slipped off the shoes the shelter provided and ignored the slippers.
“I have a room for you ready.” You spoke again after a moment of silence. Seems silence between you two was something you were going to have to get used to. Walking through the kitchen and living area- either side had a room the same size. Though the room to the right used to be your storage and office space, you were able to move things around in your room for your desk and got rid of some stuff you’ve been meaning to. Now the once-office turned back to a bedroom. It was pretty bare besides the matching wood bed and dresser you’d bought.
Moving aside to the doorframe, allowing Yoongi in the room to inspect it. His eyes never seemed to stop taking in things. His ears moved with him as he looked around and his tail was low as the tip curled to one side.
As he took in the new home, you took in his unique hair color. It was probably the Ragdoll genes but the contrast between his hair and the fur on his ears and tail were a bit different. His hair was silver-grey and as for the fur, it was a bit lighter in the same color. You wondered for a moment if his DNA was manipulative to make the animal features stand out more but you quickly shook the thought away. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable even though it was just a thought.
“There’s some clothes in the dresser. I wasn’t sure what you like so, there are a few things in the dresser. Just for until we go shopping.” The response you got was nothing but an ‘mhm’. Yoongi seemed uninterested but curious about the clothes you’d gotten. He wanted to know if it was the type they would get him. Well-fitted ones that rubbed and itched all over. As he pulled them out, sure enough, there were the ones he knew he would find but as he kept pulling out and unfolding the clothes he found some that were baggy and much softer. Something about watching him digging through the clothes felt endearing and it showed on your face with a small smile on your lips.
As you turned away to allow him to have some privacy you wondered to yourself what Yoongi would want to have for dinner.
#min yoongi x reader#hybrid!yoongi x reader#hybrid!bts x reader#bts x reader#bts hybrid au#bts scenarios#bts reactions#bts au#min yoongi#yoongi x reader
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Could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Sakusa, Miya twins, and Tendou with a reader who used to self harm but was sober for a while, only to relapse after they left bc of a huge argument then please and thanks? Sorry if that’s really intense tho. And thank u for being so nice🙂💞
[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌
ok i reaaally hope this is what you expected. i didn’t know what kind of ending you wanted but i decided that you, my friend, needed comfort, so i gave you comfort because you deserve it ❤️️
i hope reading this will make you feel better! kisses on your nose ❤️️
type : (strong) angst | word count : 4.4K
warnings : mentions of self-harm, depiction of depressive behavior (plz do not read if any of these might trigger something, i want you all to be safe <3)
⇀ 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨
« fuck you, kuroo. fuck. you. ». those were the last words you had told him. they had hurt, but they were nothing compared to the last words he had told you, the words that kept playing over and over in your head as you slowly felt yourself drift to your old habits again : « i’m done with you ».
was it your fault ? did you push him over the edge ? you had many questions to ask kuroo, but he wasn’t there to answer anymore. so these thoughts were left spiraling in your head as you started to lose balance between love and pain. because his love used to be the cure to your pain. so now what ? what were you supposed to do other than going back to your old habits ? you couldn’t think of any answer.
on monday morning, you woke up thirty minutes earlier because, first of all, you needed some time for the swelling of your eyes to go down, and second of all, you needed to mentally prepare yourself to see kuroo again. it had been two days since your fight, and he had not manifested himself once. it seemed to be well and truly over ; and that thought had been the main cause of the collapsing of your mental strength over the last two days.
during your first period, although you were avoiding his gaze, kuroo couldn’t help but cast glances in your direction. because he knew you better than anyone, and he could only imagine how hurt you were.
but he really started to get suspicious when he noticed you were not raising your hand to correct today’s homework. he had helped you with that last week, and you had told him that you felt confident enough to propose your correction to the class ; which rarely happened. so why weren’t you raising your hand ?
he had a bad feeling about the answer… he didn’t care about giving you quick glances anymore, he just stared at your arms until one of your movements would make your sleeve reveal just a few inches of your skin.
and he was horrified to have his fears confirmed. the cuts that he had so often kissed while holding you in his arms were back. and he knew it was all because of him. and although his first thought was that it was not his job to heal them anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to act unbothered.
he had loved you for long enough to know that you needed him right now. or maybe he still loved you ? it was not clear, but it didn’t matter right now. what mattered was that he needed you to listen to what he wanted to say, even if that was the last thing you accepted to hear from him.
« y/n, we need to talk » he told you once you got out of the classroom. you looked up at him ; his face was unusually austere. he carefully grabbed your shoulder and took you away from everyone else.
« i can’t… i couldn’t walk out of there pretending like i didn’t see what your arms looked like » he started. « now listen, i know i fucked up, but i still care. and you still matter. whatever our relationship is doesn’t define you and most importantly, these don’t define you » he pointed at your wrists, his brows furrowed with concern. « so please, i’m begging you, keep in mind that i’m always here if you need to talk. always. and if you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but in that case, please find someone else. for the sake of everything we've been through together, don't let everything you’ve accomplished go to waste » and he wrapped his arms around you in the strongest hug he had ever given.
⇀ 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨
it had already been a week. and bokuto had absolutely no idea what to do. call you ? text you ? probably not. what would he even say ? « hi, sorry for slamming the door in your face after screaming at you for fifteen minutes. am i still your boyfriend ? » awful idea.
and while bokuto was pondering every option he had left to get in touch with you, you were left in the darkest place of your mind. and you hadn’t felt like that in a few months. because bokuto used to always be there, his number on speed dial whenever you feared you would relapse. and thanks to his unwavering support, you hadn’t. but was there anything in this world that was truly unwavering ? you really started to doubt it. and now that bokuto had left you, what could carry the pain away ? whatever the answer was, you were in no condition to think rationally about it.
you remembered how he used to celebrate every improvement in your mental health, how strong of a cornerstone he had been for you. and just the fact of not knowing where you guys were at after your fight was enough to make you feel like you were drowning again.
you were overflowing with emotions that you thought you couldn’t control, and apart from holding on tight to bokuto’s chest, you only knew one way to feel better.
you loved him, you really did. but after a week without hearing from him, you started to think that maybe his feelings were not as real as he pretended they were. and how could you not blame him for that ? for letting you down so fast ?
curled up in your bed, tears were streaming down your face ; because you felt weaker than you had promised yourself to be. you were exhausted, in every sense of the word, yet there was still a tiny bit of strength left in your body that made you grab your phone and open your conversation with bokuto. the last message was a bitter pill to swallow : « no problem babe, i’m always here for you ». it was just a week ago but it felt like an eternity had passed. your fingers started slowly typing on the screen and immediately hit sent, knowing that you would second guess your message if you re-read it. « can we talk? », just three words, it was the maximum you could get off of your chest right now.
but bokuto did not answer. for the simple reason that he was too busy catching his breath in front of your door. he frantically knocked, not stopping until you opened it.
« oh my god, are you okay ?! » he exclaimed, patting your entire body like he wanted to make sure you were well and truly there. and once he had made sure of that, he pulled you against his chest like he wasn’t planning on letting you go ever again. « did- did you… » he ventured to ask, not wanting to finish his sentence precisely because he was afraid of your answer. but when he heard you let out a muffled sob against his chest, his fears instantly got replaced by guilt. more than he had ever felt. « you’re alright, i got you. i got you now… » he murmured, his hands stroking your back tenderly. « we’ll get through this together, ok ? we’ll show the world how strong you are. because i know you are. »
⇀ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚
yes, sakusa had run away. and he was glad he had. because he knew how hurtful he could be with his words, and he had enough respect not to inflict that to you. but as he made his way back home, doubt started installing in his head. what if he shouldn’t have left you after your fight ? he immediately shook the thought away. no, you were good now. you were better. nothing like who you were when he met you.
and sakusa could be very convincing when he needed to, including with himself. that’s why he didn’t get in touch with you for the next three days, because he thought you just needed some time for yourself.
but when he received a worried text from komori when he got out of the gym after practice, he changed his mind within seconds. « i just saw y/n, something felt off. maybe you should check on them ? ».
sakusa felt a wave of guilt descend upon of him. of course he should. it was his fucking job to offer you his help, even when he thought you didn’t need it. and especially when he knew what you had already been through. he cursed himself all the way to your house, where he could only imagine how lonely you felt. not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled out his phone to call you. and heaved a relieved sigh at the sound of your voice : « hey, are you ok ? like, right now are you doing ok ? » he asked hastily.
you sat on your bed and rubbed your strained eyes, fiddling with the cloth of your t-shirt. « i- yeah, i’m good… » you lied. « i’m at your door, open up please, i gotta see you » he said before hanging up.
you knew sakusa was not going to take no for an answer. so, after wiping your tears and putting on a long-sleeved hoodie and sweatpants, you went to open the door.
« hi… » you uttered quietly. sakusa didn’t dare to move. he had been so determined to get to your house, but now that you were standing in front of him, he wasn’t so sure of what he was supposed to do.
you decided to be the first to break the silence, « i’m okay. and i’m sorr… » « sorry. about everything. » he pre-empted you. seeing you like this made him fear the worst. so he gently grabbed your wrists like he wanted to hold your hands, when in reality he just wanted to confirm his thoughts. and when he saw you stiffen at his touch, he knew he had guessed right. « come here » he whispered before going in for a hug. but you pulled away at the last second. « can we… go to my room ? i- i feel better there » you asked timidly.
he didn’t even answer and simply wrapped his arm around your shoulder before taking you to your bedroom where you immediately curled up on your bed. you didn’t want sakusa to see you like this, but you were in no position to fight back anymore. quietly, he laid beside you and pulled you in a warm embrace, just tight enough to let you know that he got you now.
when he noticed you were trying to find something to say, to explain yourself, he shushed you with a kiss on your shoulder. « you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. but i want you to listen to me very carefully : don’t ever think that you’re back to square one now. you’ve dealt with this before, you’ve grown and you can do it again as long as you promise yourself to get back up. and i won’t leave your side. you deserve so much more than what you give yourself, and i’m here to remind you »
⇀ 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚
tsukishima’s pride was important to him, everyone knew it. the only thing he valued as much as his pride was probably you. but during your arguments, the scale always tipped in his pride’s favor, you simply could not compete.
but surprisingly enough, it was you who had told him to go away after getting in the most heated argument you had ever had. and he didn’t have to be told twice : you had shattered his beloved pride, and he was not going to stay here begging for your mercy.
he still loved you, but he also had no problem ignoring you at school. yet for some reason, this argument didn’t sit well with him. well, no arguments ever sat well with him, but today felt different.
ignoring you was one of the most hurtful things tsukishima could ever do to you. he had helped you through so much, and suddenly becoming a stranger to him was slowly bringing you back down.
« it’s just one time, i won’t relapse » you thought the first time you tried to cope with the pain the way you used to. but you feared it wouldn’t be just one time. you were diving into what you had said goodbye to ; but now that tsukishima was ignoring you, there was no one to stop you from falling, right ?
well, that would have been true if he hadn’t kept a discreet but attentive eye on you. which is why he knew very well that you had gone back to your old habits. and he needed to do something about it.
but he wasn’t good with words, and he feared that actions would not be enough this time. he needed something more permanent, something that you could keep with you all the time. so he decided to do something he had never done before, and gave it to you as soon as it was done…
receiving a letter from tsukishima was definitely not something you expected. but what was written in it was even less expected.
« i’m not the best at this kind of stuff, but… i really need you to stop being so hard on yourself. i know it’s not something i usually say, but i fell in love with you because i learned to love your imperfections. and you have to start doing the same about yourself. please. and if you need to be held, to be listened to, i’ll be there. but i wanted to write something because i want you to be able to read this as much as you need, as much as you want. i want you to get better, but even more than that, i want you to want to get better. you can do it, i believe in you more than you can think. please come to me if you need it. i love you ».
the tears that streamed down your face had a salty taste, but for the first time in a long time, they tasted like hope as well. and the next time you came face to face with yourself and your thoughts, your eyes found find their way back to the letter, and you knew that there were people that still believed in you, counted on you, loved you. tsukki was just the first one of a long list. (<3)
⇀ 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮
he had been there through everything. more than you would have imagined. which is probably why you felt desperately empty ever since he got so angry at you that he left without looking back. but at the time, it simply had not crossed his mind that you would suffer so deeply from his words.
but you did. a lot. and that was the reason you found yourself crying on your bedroom floor, not even able to be mad at anyone but yourself.
still oblivious to the true damage, atsumu thought he could get back to you by pretending like nothing had happened. he often did that because, to him, what was in the past belonged in the past. except that today, and in your situation, it could not work.
« wanna grab something to eat ? » was the first text he sent you. and you didn’t feel like answering, so you didn’t. « are you still mad ? i’m not <3 » was the second one. but you still didn’t feel like answering. maybe it was your fault ? maybe you were overreacting while you were just supposed to play it cool like he did ? but you would have played it cool if you knew how to.
when atsumu decided to go to your house, it was initially to apologize in person. he had not planned on seeing you looking the way you did, which was a heart-wrenching reminder of the dark period of time you had gotten through together. but here he was, standing in front of you, feeling more helpless than ever. he knew too well the look into your eyes, one that he hadn’t seen in a long time.
he dropped the pack of snacks he was holding in his hands before cupping your cheeks. « oh no, no, no. i fucked up, didn’t i ? i am… so so so sorry. c-can you forgive me ? » he stammered, absolute panic in his eyes as he took you in his arms. why would i have to forgive you ? you thought. i’m the only one to blame.
but atsumu seemed to also hear the things you didn’t say, and he refused to let you feel guilty for anything. ever so gently, he took your hands in his before placing the softest kisses on your wrists that were still covered by the sleeves of your hoodie. « i probably won’t ever forgive myself for leaving you alone. but promise me you’ll always come to me if you need help, or any kind of support, hugs, kisses… you name it. i’ll be your coping mechanism, and i’ll be the best you’ve ever had »
and he kept holding you for a long time, at least until he felt your breath become steady again. and if you thought atsumu was doting before, prepare yourself to be even more amazed now.
⇀ 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮
fighting with osamu was not frequent, fortunately. but when fights occured, it was bad. really bad. he tended to think that you could endure as much as atsumu when it came to harsh words ; but you couldn’t.
kind of like his brother, samu had a tendency to leave the past behind and pretend like nothing happened when he got in touch with you after a fight. and that’s what he did a week ago, after one of the biggest arguments that you had ever had.
too happy that he seemed to still want to be your boyfriend, you didn’t have the courage to tell him how you had gone back to your old habits during the time you were on bad terms. but as they said, old habits died hard, and your destructive thoughts were still very present even when things seemed to have gotten back to normal.
yet samu was not blind, and he noticed that you were acting a bit more distant since last week, since your fight. but he still thought that your problems could be solved by just keeping on pretending like everything was ok. and eventually, things would turn out ok by themselves, right ?
you were laying on his bed, turned on your side as you scrolled on your phone. usually you would have had an arm swung around him, but you didn’t want to take any risk, so you kept your distances.
« hey, come closer baby. we’ve barely cuddled today » he told you before lazily wrapping his arm around your waist.
feeling nervous, you swallowed the lump in your throat before putting your phone on the nightstand. « i’m going to sleep, samu », you said, stretching your arm to turn off the light.
but he was quicker than you and gently grabbed your arm, careful not to apply any pressure on it. his eyes widened, he had barely seen your wrist but it had been enough to notice that the scars were recent. he put two and two together and looked at you dead in the eyes ; you looked ashamed, and it broke his heart. « when did y- was it because of me ? » he asked, his voice faintly shaking. you pulled away from his hand and held your arm against you, sinking in the pillow. « no, of course not. it’s nothing » you breathed out, looking away to avoid his gaze. but he was quick to make you face him again, with a slight pressure of his fingertips on your red cheeks. « there’s only one thing that i hate more than seeing you in pain. it’s knowing that i caused this pain. let me help you, y/n. please. you deserve to feel better. i’m sorry i didn’t give you as much love as you gave me. and i’m sorry for behaving like an asshole when you needed me. just… fuck, i just love you ».
tears started prickling the corner of your eyes, but he saw you trying to hold them back. with the most gentle look in his eyes, he proposed to turn off the light if it made you feel better. and you nodded ; you knew that you’d eventually had to have a face-to-face conversation with him. it was the only way to get better. but right now you just wanted to be held without thinking about what he’d see. or wouldn’t see.
so he turned off the light and let yourself get comfortable in bed before wrapping you in his embrace once again. his soft breath against your neck was obviously not enough to make all your pain magically go away, but it let you know that he had your back. and it was all that mattered.
⇀ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮
« i don’t want to do this anymore, y/n ! » tendou had yelled, making this sentence the peak of your argument. six words, and they were on replay in your minds since four days. you couldn’t believe that almost two years of relationship had ended so abruptly. but you had to face the truth : tendou had enough of you. and obviously you linked that to the turbulent start of your relationship. you knew it hadn’t been easy for him to deal with your self harm when you had just started dating. yet he had managed to make you feel so much better that you had been sober for about a year, all thanks to him. but maybe you hadn’t been grateful enough ? maybe that was why he had decided to end things now ?
the only thing you knew for sure was that he was gone, and you felt like you had lost your anchor.
you had spent the weekend in your dorm, and it had been a painful weekend. so painful that you did not get out of bed on monday morning ; it was just too much to handle. deep down you knew that you were not handling your problems the right way… and escaping reality was not viable.
but little did you know that tendou wanted nothing more than to see you again in the hallways and finally have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. and when he didn’t see you in class, he started to freak out. he knew how it was to feel alone and rejected ; and he started to fear that he had caused you to feel exactly that. so he did not follow his friends to the cafeteria at lunch and headed to your dorm instead, hoping that you’d open the door.
and you did. thank god you did. but panic started bubbling in his chest when his eyes laid on your face.
« alright, come here » he told you with a forced smile before pulling you in his embrace. truthfully, he didn’t feel like smiling, but he knew that the last thing you needed was to think you made him feel bad. when he was with you, his main goal was to cheer you up, he’d deal with himself later. « angel… did you do it again ? » he asked, his tone being the furthest thing from judgmental. you muttered a quiet apology, your face buried in his white uniform jacket. but something lingered on your mind. angel ? it sounded right, but you knew it wasn’t. not anymore. « don’t apologize ! the only person you owe an apology to is yourself » he whispered against your ear. slowly, he put his hands on your waist before bringing you to your bed where he sat right next to you, still refusing to take his hands off of your body.
« tendou, you don’t have to do this… » you muttered, knowing that you weren’t supposed to be this close anymore. « i’m your ex, you don’t owe me anything ».
he immediately looked down to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised in confusion. « your ex ? wh- you think i broke up with you ? y/n, when i said that i didn’t want to do this anymore, i was talking about fighting with you ! i’m sorry, i should have texted you these last few days, but i thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me »
a tear rolled down your cheek. tendou’s words sounded like heaven right now. maybe you weren’t alone after all ?
« now, do you need me to get you something ? band-aids ? anything ? » he asked, caressing your hair with his right hand. you nodded your head no and kept your head buried in his neck, like you were waiting for his scent to go to your head. « i know you’ve been through a lot, and i’m proud of you no matter what. but, you know… even though i have enough love for the both of us, i’d really want you to have enough love for yourself » he said and placed a kiss on top of your head, waiting for you to say something. but he sensed that you were not ready yet. and he was ok with that, the last thing he wanted to do was to pressure you. it was going to be a long path, but you had already done it, and you were going to do it again. and he’d be there the whole time.
ok so if you’ve read until there it probably means that you needed comfort (i hope i have given you enough) : so if you are in this situation yourself, PLEASE don’t be afraid to ask for help, you can and you will get better. i’m rooting for you like saeko roots for karasuno ❤️️
@toworuu (didn’t forget about you ^^)
#haikyuu#haikyuu angst#hq angst#hq comfort#haikyuu comfort#bokuto x trader#kuroo x trader#tsukishima x reader#sakusa x reader#osamu x reader#atsumu x reader#tendou x reader
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too soon to tell, chapter t w o
You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.
You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.
“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.
“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.
“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”
She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”
You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.
“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”
“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.
“Apparently not.”
She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”
“What is?”
“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”
She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.
Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.
“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”
Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”
“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”
“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.
“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”
“But you want to move in with him.”
“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”
Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”
You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”
“Shut up! Are you serious?!”
“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”
She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”
“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”
“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”
“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He���s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”
“But you love him,” she reasoned.
“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”
“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”
“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.
“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”
“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”
She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.
“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”
“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”
You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.
“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”
“And?”
“Was it weird?”
“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”
You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?
People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.
Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?
Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?
“When will you hear back about the job?”
“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”
You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.
“Do you want it?”
You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.
“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”
Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”
You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.
But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?
Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?
She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”
You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.
“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”
She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.
Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.
She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.
Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.
It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.
You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.
“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.
“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”
“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”
Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.
“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”
He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”
You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.
You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.
“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.
“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.
“You seem--off.”
You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…
Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.
He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”
The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.
“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”
He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.
“You don’t know?” He pressed.
You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”
He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”
“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.
You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.
But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.
He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”
It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.
His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.
Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?
He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”
You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.
You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.
“What’s that?”
Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.
You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.
“What’s happening, are you okay?”
“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.
“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”
“It’s in Los Angeles.”
His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.
He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”
“I don’t know,” you said honestly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.
Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”
“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”
“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”
“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.
“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”
“Probably for a good reason--”
“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”
“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”
“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”
He rolled his eyes at that.
“What’s the eye roll for?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”
“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.
The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.
It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.
When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.
“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.
“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.
“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.
“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.
Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.
“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.
“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”
He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”
Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.
“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”
Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”
“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”
“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”
“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.
“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.
“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.
The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”
He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.
You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”
“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.
“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”
“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.
“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”
Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.
“What’s going on with him?”
You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”
“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.
“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”
“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.
“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.
Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”
“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”
“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”
With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.
Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”
“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”
“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.
Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.
“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.
“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”
Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”
“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.
Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”
Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.
“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.
He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.
Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.
Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.
“I’ll just drop you at yours?”
“Oh--yeah, sure.”
“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.
You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”
“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”
“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.
He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.
Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.
“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”
“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”
“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”
“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”
You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.
“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”
He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”
You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.
Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?
You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.
**
A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.
You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.
A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.
Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!
You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.
He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.
So far, his list was as follows:
Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)
Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview
Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.
It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.
Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.
You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.
“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”
She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.
They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.
“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”
You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.
You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.
She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”
You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.
“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”
She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”
“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”
“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”
“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”
“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”
“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”
She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.
“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”
You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”
She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”
“Is there somewhere you want to start?”
She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”
“To what?”
“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”
“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”
“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.
“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”
She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”
“How would you want to see it change for the better?”
“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.
“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.
“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”
She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”
You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.
“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”
She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”
“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.
“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”
“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”
“Everyone started to care more about you?”
“Exactly.”
You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.
She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.
“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”
The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.
You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.
You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.
“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”
“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”
“Did you talk about that?”
“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”
Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.
“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”
“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.
**
You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.
He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.
You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.
“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”
You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”
He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."
You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.
"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"
You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”
“Do you mean with my album?”
“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”
“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.
Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.
“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”
“S’not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”
Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.
“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.
“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.
“What?”
“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”
“And what about us?”
“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”
You sighed, unsure what to say.
"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."
You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.
Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?
But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.
A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.
But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.
You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?
Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.
You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.
And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.
You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.
They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.
You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.
“I can’t take it,” you said.
Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”
“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”
“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.
You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.
“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”
You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.
Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.
Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.
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you make it feel like christmas - kim doyoung x gender-neutral reader
⇢ synopsis: when you entered your job a few years ago, you found your best friend, doyoung. the two of you were partners-in-crime, platonic soulmates. however, during a drunken phone call with doyoung’s mother, she catches the wrong idea and invites you to spend christmas with their family… as doyoung’s partner. ever the mama’s boy, doyoung doesn’t want to disappoint her. and you? you’re counting down the days until you can stop this lovers pretence and slap your best friend upside the head.
⇢ word count: 5.6k ⇢ trigger warnings: alcohol use resulting in minor memory loss, swearing, slight suggestive references. this piece is suitable for all audiences!
⇢ a/n: this is my piece for @pastelsicheng and @dearyongs‘ a taste of winter collab. quick disclaimer that doyoung’s family in this fic may not represent his real life family situation, however this is a work of fiction and isn’t meant to mirror real life. i don’t know doyoung, nor do i know his mother, and the characters represented in this writing are fictitious versions of them. furthermore, the christmas traditions depicted in this story are mainly based on my own experiences celebrating the holidays in england.
⇢ taglist: @hunjins @ahgase55g7 @mmoondance @notnctu @orange-nimon-cross @yeoshwa @infnteen @neonun-au @luvlala @neo-shitty @yutacrush @ethaeriyeol @fairyinaflowercrown @in-my-neofeelings @dreamieofu
"All I want for Christmas is youuu, baby!"
Doyoung's voice was almost deafening in your ear, which would've been a problem if you were sober. Your voice, too, merrily drunk and far too loud, belted out the holiday tunes. Your best friend's arm was slung around your shoulder, and yours was around his waist. It was like the blind leading the blind, however; neither of you were keeping your balance very well. The two of you staggered together, navigating the city's streets back to his apartment.
The Christmas party that your office held would have been okay without your favourite coworker - you would've had a good time and enjoyed yourself, sure. But with Doyoung's presence, paired with the copious amounts of alcohol, it had been a riot. Even if you had peaked too early and had to depart by 11pm.
Doyoung was, undoubtedly, the best part about your job. The workload wasn't overwhelming, nor was it tedious, and the salary was nothing to sneeze at. But, without a shadow of a doubt, the best thing your job had ever provided you with was the opportunity to meet your best friend. Doyoung was your platonic soulmate, and your favourite person.
"Hey," Doyoung slurred, calling out to you suddenly. "Is that your ringtone?"
Squinting, you listened closely. "No, Doie," you hiccupped. "I think that's your ringtone."
"Oh, shit,'' Doyoung mumbled, diving into his coat pocket to retrieve his ringing phone. "My mom! She's facetiming."
Your vision was blurred, but you very vaguely saw Doyoung answer the call, bringing up his mother's image on his phone screen. Though you’d been best friends with Doyoung for a few years, you’d never met her. Doyoung lived and worked alongside you in the city, but his mother lived a while away in the countryside, and so your paths had never crossed.
"Hi Mom," Doyoung waved at her.
"Doyoung? Where are you?"
"I'm walking home, Mom," he responded, beaming at her through his phone.
"You sent me a strange text message," she told him, her voice raised a little more than necessary - Doyoung had mentioned that she was somewhat inept when it came to technology.
"Huh?" Doyoung looked confused.
"Something about lunch the day after tomorrow," she elaborated. "Doyoung, you aren't coming home for the holidays until next week, right?"
"Ah," Doyoung said, understanding. "That was meant for somebody else, sorry Mom."
"My boy," you heard her tut, and you laughed. "Is someone there with you, Doyoung?"
"Yeah," Doyoung nodded, "Y/N is here."
"Hi, Mrs Kim," you waved, as Doyoung turned the screen towards you. If you weren't so drunk, you would've been nervous about meeting your best friend's mother for the first time. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it) your bloodstream was mainly rum at that point, so you had absolutely no worries nor qualms.
“Kim Doyoung! Why didn’t you tell me you had a partner?” his mother blurted out.
“Huh?” exclaimed Doyoung, utterly confused.
“Oh Doyoung, you must bring Y/N home for the holidays! I can’t wait to meet them,” she cooed.
“Mom, wait-”
“See you two next week!” she cheerily said her goodbyes before hanging up, disappearing from the screen and leaving the two of you in silence.
Doyoung looked at you. You looked back at him.
“Did she…” you began, not quite wanting to end your sentence.
Doyoung nodded gravely. “She thinks we’re dating.”
The look on Doyoung’s face - eyes wide, lips in a straight, serious line - it was too much for you. You snorted, gripping his arm as you buckled in laughter. He wasn’t far behind you, bursting into a fit of giggles too. You and Doyoung loved each other, that was indisputable. But it was completely and entirely platonic. The two of you laughed together the rest of the way home.
As you were coming to your senses the next morning, you groaned. Why the hell did you feel so lousy? you wondered, full to the brim with self-pity. Your head pounded, a throbbing ache so strong you were certain somebody was banging pots and pans in your brain. Your throat was so, so dry, and you felt as though you could drink a whole gallon of water and still be thirsty afterwards. And then the memories of the previous night came flooding in.
Ah, you thought, Now it all makes sense.
You sorted through the events of last night, mentally flicking through the filing cabinet of your memories. A filing cabinet that was sorely empty when it came to the night prior. You remembered arriving at the party with Doyoung; you remembered the first few drinks, but following that your memories began to fade. You remembered Doyoung pressing a sloppy kiss to your boss’ cheek - a rather stoic middle-aged man - and you had no doubt that Doyoung would be apologising profusely on Monday morning. You had absolutely no recollection of the walk home, but since you had awoken in Doyoung’s spare bedroom, you supposed the night could have gone worse. At least you made it home safe.
Begrudgingly, you threw back the blankets and lifted yourself out of bed. Doyoung - bless his heart - had left you some painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table. You consumed both of them gratefully and emerged from the spare room, wincing at the sunlight that met you. As you made your way down the hallway, whistling met your ears. How Doyoung could be so lively after a night of heavy drinking, you had no idea.
“Why the hell do you never get hungover?” you grumbled at him as you entered the kitchen, finding him at the stove.
“Good morning to you, too, sleeping beauty,” he greeted you with a smile.
“Seriously,” you continued as you took a seat at the kitchen island, “I swear I get hungover enough for the both of us.”
“Thank you for taking on that burden,” Doyoung replied sweetly, which you responded to with a spiteful glower. It doesn’t last long, however; Doyoung finishes cooking breakfast, and dishes you up a serving. Sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, baked beans, hash browns, and toast. As much as you playfully bickered with Doyoung, he was an absolute treasure.
“Doie, you’re a gift from the heavens,” you praise him, the sight of the warm, greasy food reviving your soul almost immediately.
Doyoung took a seat next to you, placing down a plate of his own breakfast. “So,” he began, “How much of last night do you remember?”
“Huh?” you asked, suddenly wondering if you’d forgotten something drastic. “Did we…”
“Oh my god, no,” Doyoung denied quickly.
“Thank fuck,” you sigh in relief. Your best friend was attractive, definitely. But you saw him as more of a sibling than a lover.
Doyoung waited a moment before explaining, and with each second that passed, your suspicions rose. “My mom… She’s invited you to spend the holidays with us.”
“Oh!” you exclaim. That confession was a lot tamer than what you’d expected. “Sure, that sounds great. I was spending the holidays alone this year anyways.”
“There’s a catch.”
You dropped your knife and fork onto your plate. “Doyoung,” you groan, “Why is there always a catch?”
“My mom thinks we’re dating.” Doyoung pointedly avoided your eye contact while he spoke.
“And you corrected her, right?” you asked, fearing the worst. Doyoung’s silence only confirmed your fears. “Right?”
“She was so happy when she thought I was dating someone! And she’s been on my back about settling down forever,” Doyoung rambled, trying to save himself from your wrath - to no avail.
“Doyoung!”
“Please, Y/N. It’ll only be for a few days,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together and giving you his very best puppy-dog eyes. And you had to admit, they were some top-notch puppy-dog eyes.
You gave a resigned sigh, and Doyoung cheered. “Fine. But only because I really want to try your mom’s cookies.”
“You’re the best friend in the world,” Doyoung complimented you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You whined at him, fighting the urge to bat away his affections; in your hungover state, you were not at all ready for hugs.
“Then make me some more hash browns,” you grumbled. If Doyoung was prepared to put you in this situation, he’d better also be prepared to pay you for it.
“You got it, best friend,” Doyoung beamed at you, getting up to obey your command. “You should pack those Christmas pyjamas you’re wearing, by the way. My mom would love them.” You scowled at him. He immediately backed down, waving away his previous statement. “We can figure out the logistics later.”
“You better make this worth my while, Kim Doyoung.” When he served you your hash browns, you were still scowling.
As the taxi pulled up at Doyoung’s childhood home, you couldn’t help but marvel at it. You raised a hand to the cab’s window, looking out at the idyllic cottage, rooftop covered in snow, decked out in twinkling Christmas lights. The environment had grown increasingly more peaceful as you had travelled out of Seoul and deeper into the countryside, picturesque hills and winding valleys rolling past the train windows. This place felt worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and it was difficult to feel even slightly stressed. Even if the situation your best friend had put you in was less than ideal, this was an absolutely beautiful place to spend the holidays - it looked like it had jumped straight out of a Christmas card.
Despite the beautiful winter wonderland before you, you still weren’t prepared for the cold that hit you when you stepped out of the cab. You busied yourself getting the luggage from the trunk while Doyoung paid the driver.
“Are you ready?” Doyoung asked you, looking into your eyes sincerely.
You sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You gave him a smile, reassuring him. The truth was, you were truly excited to spend the holidays with Doyoung and his mother; you were excited to meet her, to eat her home cooking, to hear stories about Doyoung in his youth. You just had some qualms about the whole fake relationship pretense, and you really didn’t want to let your best friend down.
“Y/N?” Doyoung spoke, taking bags out of your hands.
“Yeah?” you asked, watching wistfully as the taxi drove away.
Doyoung smirked at you. “Just try your best not to fall in love with me for real, okay?”
You rolled your eyes so hard they practically fell out of your head. “You wish.” Just as the cottage door swung open, you reached for Doyoung’s hand, holding it tightly. So began the relationship charade.
“Doyoung, my boy,” his mother beamed, coming out to greet her son. It was hard not to smile upon seeing her - she was clearly over the moon to see you and Doyoung, and her joy was infectious. She was a small woman, but you had gathered from Doyoung’s description that she certainly had a big character. She welcomed her son into an embrace, kissing his cheek. “You don’t visit home enough, Doyoung,” she chided lovingly.
“And you must be Y/N,” she spoke, moving her gaze onto you. She looked at you fondly, and you beamed back at her. “You’re so beautiful,” she praised you.
Your cheeks, already red from the cold, blazed a little brighter. “Thank you, Mrs Kim.”
She wagged a finger at you. “Mrs Kim, you make me sound so aged. Please, call me Mom.” She turned around, welcoming the two of you inside, and you shared a smile with Doyoung.
The interior of the cottage was every bit as charming as the exterior. Family photos decorated the walls, and warm rugs hugged the floors. You supposed the home would have a cozy feeling all year round, but now, in the festive season, the place was dressed up to the nines. Lavish paper chains were strung up, along with twinkling lights and boughs of holly. Not to mention the Christmas tree; though not huge it was still sizeable, likely the biggest Mrs Kim could fit through the cottage door. It was embellished with golden tinsel and crimson baubles.
“Your home is so beautiful,” you commended. “Did you decorate yourself?”
“All by myself,” Doyoung’s mother confirmed proudly.
“This must’ve been a beautiful place to grow up,” you marvelled, your comment pointed towards Doyoung, who smiled back at you appreciatively.
“Oh, the stories I have about Doyoung growing up,” Mrs Kim said, and you detected a mischievous tone.
“I can’t wait to hear them,” you grinned.
“And see them!” she added. “I have so many photo albums.”
Doyoung groaned, while you and Mrs Kim laughed in the presence of his misery. Yes, you decided. You were going to enjoy this visit very much.
When you settled into bed that night, you were beyond exhausted. Doyoung’s mother had kindly set you up in the spare room, which was delightfully warm and snug. Doyoung’s childhood bedroom contained only a single bed, whereas the spare room had a double bed to accommodate you - the ‘couple.’ Though it had only been a few hours since you’d arrived that afternoon, the gravity of your situation had well and truly sunk in. The performative affection you and Doyoung had been carrying out was alien, equal parts strange and comical.
“I can’t believe the amount of times you called me Honey today,” Doyoung scoffed amusedly, dressed in his blue flannel pyjamas with his dark hair laying flat and fluffy on his forehead. He turned off the big light to leave the room illuminated by the warm glow of the table lamps, before climbing into bed beside you.
“Mock me all you want, Doyoung, but I think I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you return smugly.
“Well, I can’t imagine it’s hard. I’m very easy to love. You on the other hand?” Doyoung faked a weary sigh. “I have my work cut out for me.” You flicked Doyoung on the forehead, snickering when he yelped.
You yawned, depositing your phone on the bedside table and snuggling down into the blankets. Though you were exhausted, and the cottage was immensely cozy, it always felt a little strange to fall asleep in a new place. You were thankful for the company of your best friend, who always put you at ease.
“I hate sharing a bed with you,” you grumbled your complaint. Despite the comfort he brought you, he wasn’t the easiest person to sleep with. “You starfish. I always wake up with, like, one centimetre of bed space.”
Doyoung dropped his phone, letting it fall onto the blankets. He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “One centimetre?”
“Yeah, one centimetre!” you insisted.
“Well, I always wake up with your cold feet on my legs,” he rebutted.
“Yeah, well-” you sputtered. “It’s not my fault you’re a living hot water bottle!”
“And it’s not my fault you’re always cold. Yet I’m always punished with your horrible cold feet.” You laughed back at him; the normality of your bickering helped to put you at ease.
“Let’s get some rest,” you suggested, yawning again. “I don’t wanna miss your mom’s cookies tomorrow morning - I wanna try them while they’re warm.”
“Mmm, good idea,” Doyoung agreed, eyes wide with the thought of his mother’s cookies.
“Goodnight, butthead,” you teased your friend, turning off the lamp beside you.
“Sleep well, idiot,” he replied fondly.
Thoughts of warm chocolate-chip cookies were the last things on your mind before you fell asleep, and you were lucky enough to have them drift through your dreams that night.
As you slowly woke up, gradually returning to the land of the conscious, you first became aware of how delightfully warm you were. A light winter sun was shining through the gaps in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft white light. You sighed, hugging your pillow closer to you, but furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you found it to be much firmer and less pliant than a pillow.
“Nice to see you’ve finally awakened. You drooled on my pyjamas.” Doyoung’s voice was gentle, and lacked any real annoyance.
“What time is it?” you asked, rolling off the boy.
“Half nine,” he told you, looking at his phone screen. You digested the information as Doyoung got out of bed, stretching his muscles which had stiffened from sleep.
“Now that I’m finally free,” he stared at you pointedly, “I’m gonna take a shower. There’s another bathroom down the hall if you want to wash up.” You nodded, accomplishing your own satisfying stretch in bed.
A while later, fresh and ready for the day, adorned in your favourite comfy sweater, you made your way downstairs, trying to dampen down your high, high hopes for cookies.
“Good morning, Mrs Kim,” you greeted the woman with a smile. A smile that increased tenfold when you saw she was, in fact, in the middle of preparing cookies.
“I already told you to call me Mom, darling,” she chastised gently. “Did you sleep well?”
You gave her a nod, silently thinking about the several times you woke up to Doyoung kicking you through the night.
“Lovely,” she commented. “I’m making cookies, would you like to help?”
“I’d love to,” you answered honestly. “Your cookies are kind of famous back in Seoul. Doyoung never stops talking about them.”
“That boy and his cookies,” she remarked with affection.
Doyoung’s mother set you off to work making another batch of mixture, as she began her duties with the rolling pin. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, and you marvelled at how much she put you at ease. She was a warm lady, the kind of mother figure a person is lucky to have.
“Y/N, I want you to tell me everything,” she spoke after a while. “How did you and Doyoung meet?”
“Ah,” you mumbled, gearing yourself up to talk about your fake-boyfriend. “Well, we work together. I joined the company about two years ago, and Doyoung was the one to show me the ropes.”
“Was it love at first sight?” Mrs Kim asked you sweetly.
You turned away from the cookie dough, choking a little at the mention of romance with Doyoung, as you remembered the first time you met the man.
You were almost trembling as your new boss showed you around the office; this was your first “grown-up” job and you were the very definition of nervous. You were thankful for your brand-new black blazer which covered the sweat stains that you knew were building.
“And this,” your boss introduced you, “Is Kim Doyoung. He’ll help you settle in.”
“Hi. Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered Doyoung your hand to shake, which he accepted.
Doyoung waited for your boss to leave before speaking. “So,” he began with a smirk, “How hard did he try to be ‘relatable’ and ‘down with the kids?’”
You hid your laugh behind a cough. “He’s a little out of touch, huh?”
“A little?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, laughing alongside you.
“Is it okay to talk about the boss like this? We’re supposed to respect him, right?” you asked your new coworker, a little uncertainly.
“Ah, Y/N, of course we respect him,” Doyoung tutted at you, before adding, “To his face.”
Doyoung had you in stitches your entire first day. Though he tried not to show it, you hadn’t seen anybody try so hard to help you become comfortable and calm. He had been easing your nerves since day one.
“Yeah,” you confirmed as you recovered. “I think it was.” Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight in a romantic sense, but the two of you definitely connected on a personal level right away.
“So romantic,” Doyoung’s mother cooed as she rolled out the dough. “What do you love most about him?”
“Hm.” You paused, taking a moment to think. It was true that you loved a lot of Doyoung’s qualities - he was your best friend after all. He was always supportive, an ever-present shoulder to cry on. He was funny, and kind, and pleasant to be around. You always had fun together. “I love a lot of things about him,” you answered truthfully.
“He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” she agreed with you jovially, to which you smiled and nodded. “Now, I don’t want to rush you,” she continued, “But will you and Doyoung be giving me grandchildren any time soon?”
You choked on your spit, just as Doyoung entered the kitchen, coming to your rescue.
“Speak of the devil,” his mom noted affectionately, as she loaded the full trays into the oven.
“Cookies?” Doyoung’s eyes glinted hopefully. His hair was still damp from the shower, dripping and leaving wet droplets on his plain white t-shirt.
“Yes, in about fifteen minutes,” she confirmed. “You can wait that long, right?”
“Oh,” Doyoung moaned, “I don’t know. I can feel my life escaping from me as we speak.” He collapsed at the kitchen table behind you, falling onto the chair as he pretended to faint. You chuckled at his antics, reaching over to ruffle his still-wet hair adoringly. You caught his mother looking over at the two of you fondly, and you smiled, a little self-conscious.
It felt more natural than you’d imagined, being cute and cozy with Doyoung in this false relationship. You supposed your friendship was a little more affectionate than you realised. Now that you thought about it, there was a certain tenderness that was common between the two of you - aside from the constant snipping and bickering, that was.
You’d never considered that you could be suited to a life outside the city, but the longer you spent in the charming countryside, the more ideal it felt. On your second morning of your winter break, you and Doyoung had donned your warmest winter gear (hats, scarves, and gloves included) and set out on a walk down the rustic lanes that your best friend had once called home. Though there were no eyes on you, and logically you didn’t have to keep up your fake-dating pretence in these hidden moments, shared only by you and Doyoung, the two of you held hands as you ambled down the snow-covered roads. It was an unspoken act, and one that felt strangely comfortable and oddly natural. You didn’t accredit too much thought to it; best friends could hold hands, if they wished to.
“We’re almost there,” Doyoung told you, after a short time of walking.
You tilted your head in confusion. “Where?” You hadn’t thought you were walking with any specific location in mind - you’d assumed the pair of you were meandering through the countryside with no direction.
“You’ll see,” was all he said, leaving you wondering.
Not long later, Doyoung directed you towards an opening in the shrubbery at the side of the lane, maneuvering himself over a stile before helping you over. The field you found yourself in was empty, the normally green meadow blanketed in completely untouched white. The only thing standing in the field, other than you and Doyoung was an old, rather dilapidated-looking barn. You imagined it once blazed a beautiful scarlet, although the years and the weather had chipped and faded its coat, leaving it a patchy maroon.
“Who does this belong to?” you asked, reclaiming Doyoung’s hand as you approached the barn together.
“I don’t know,” Doyoung countered. “Nobody, I think. It’s been abandoned as long as I can remember.”
“It’s a little creepy,” you commented apprehensively.
“Don’t worry, there aren’t any ghosts,” Doyoung mocked you, although it was devoid of any cruelty.
The door creaked as Doyoung pushed it open, and you didn’t entirely trust it not to fall completely off its hinges. The interior of the barn was a dark contrast to the stark white of the winter wonderland outside, although some sunlight filtered through the gaps in the wooden structure.
“Welcome to my secret clubhouse,” Doyoung introduced you. Your hands fell apart, as Doyoung left your side to venture to the back of the dwelling, finding a rickety swing that hung from the rafters, constructed of two pieces of rope and a plank of wood. He sat on it, swinging lightly and you were surprised to find that it managed to support his weight.
“How many of your romantic conquests have you brought here before me?” you teased, examining his hangout.
“You’re the first.”
The barn wasn’t particularly exciting, but there was a certain buzz to be derived from gaining a little bit of insight to Doyoung’s past. The floors of the building were no longer lined with hay, but dirt and dust, featuring intermittent weeds and plants. A tree had reached its spindly branches inside the structure, intertwining itself with the beams and pillars. You perched yourself atop an old stool that was sitting amid the weeds and rubble.
“Did you put that swing up yourself?” you asked, eyeing its stability.
“Yep,” Doyoung confirmed. “All by myself. I climbed right up into the rafters to fasten it.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself,” you remarked. The barn was a rather significant height, and it can’t have been safe for a young boy to scale the wooden bones of the building, likely aided by the serpentine branches of the oak tree.
“When I was a kid I thought I was superman,” Doyoung said, and you could see him reminiscing internally. You watched, captivated, as he looked around the tattered old barn which was clearly a sentimental place for him. He was beautiful, your best friend. Eyes that shined, dark as the night; a nose that sloped almost perfectly; pink lips that looked best when smiling. Though the winter was a cold one, your heart was warmed by your love for Doyoung. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply existing together without any demand or pressure to make unnecessary conversation.
“We should get back home,” Doyoung spoke after a while, standing and stretching. “My mom is making hotpot for lunch.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with enthusiasm. Spending time with your best friend, taking walks through the beautiful countryside, and being fed homemade dishes for every meal. This Christmas holiday may just be the best thing to ever happen to you.
Christmas morning came much more swiftly than you expected. The homely atmosphere of the cottage, the domestic haven where Doyoung spent his youth, felt like a sweet sanctuary that existed outside of the linear flow of time. Early morning walks down dew-covered lanes gave way to plentiful lunches that you savoured, which morphed into homely afternoons that eased into sleepy evenings around the fireplace. It was the sweet retreat you hadn’t realised you’d needed, and you were remarkably upset that you had to return to the city the following day.
“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll put this to good use,” you grinned at Mrs Kim as you handed over the Christmas present you’d brought her. She unwrapped the parcel, although the shape didn’t quite leave room for a discreet gift, to reveal a bottle of red wine.
“I’m sure I’ll find some way to use this,” she responded, a teasing twinkle in her eye as you shared a laugh together.
“Y/N,” Doyoung spoke, handing you a small box wrapped in festive paper. “Here.” He was already wearing the watch you had gifted him with. You peeled back the wrapping, opening the box to find a delicate silver necklace, hanging from it a shining silver jewel. It looked expensive; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a real diamond.
“Wow,” you gasped, at a complete loss for words.
“Let me put it on you,” Doyoung offered, and you let him.
“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at him. “Thank you.” He smiled back sincerely.
Doyoung’s mother reached under the Christmas tree, bringing out two identically wrapped packages, square-shaped and squishy. “You kids open your presents together; I made them matching for you.”
You tore into the paper, opening the bundle to reveal a mass of knitted wool, soft and burgundy. You lifted it up to reveal a beautiful, intricate Christmas sweater - and noticed that Doyoung was holding an identical one.
“They’re so beautiful, Mrs Kim,” you complimented her, a little starstruck; though you knew Mrs Kim had handcrafted them, they looked like they were bought from a shop. They were of the most perfect quality, and looked splendidly snug and cozy.
“Yeah, thanks Mom,” Doyoung added, admiring the material. He waited until she looked away, taking a sip of her hot cocoa, before turning to you and muttering “Matching Christmas sweaters?” accompanied by a fake gag. You looked away, finding it almost impossible to stifle the giggle that bubbled up within you. They were beautiful, and you were endlessly grateful for the homemade gift, but Doyoung’s comment had amused you.
Mrs Kim looked at you with a knowing expression, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed the exchange.
“Now you know I wasn’t kidding about my mom’s homemade cooking,” Doyoung said as he worked on the mountain of dishes in the sink.
“You really weren’t,” you agreed, stood next to him with a towel to dry the porcelain. You typically weren’t such a big fan of turkey, but something about the way Mrs Kim cooked it meant that it was surprisingly delicious. You had gone back for several helpings of the meal, encouraged by Doyoung’s mother, who seemed to derive pleasure from keeping people well-fed.
“I need a nap,” Doyoung declared, and you shared his experience of full-stomach sleepiness.
The pair of you finished up in the kitchen, and moved to the living room where Doyoung’s mother had relocated.
“Ah!” she stopped you in the doorway, before you could enter. “Look.”
You followed her pointed finger, to the green sprigs hanging in the archway. Mistletoe. Doyoung gave an awkward chuckle.
“Mistletoe for the lovers,” his mother chortled gleefully.
Doyoung captured you in his embrace, and your heart began to beat a little faster - was he really going to kiss you? You closed your eyes as he moved into you, and felt his lips peck your forehead. You smiled, before pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. In the spirit of Christmas. Doyoung’s eyes widened, and you laughed as his mother cheered. You followed her into the living room, making yourself comfortable on the couch that had no right being as cozy as it was. Doyoung’s cheeks were still red when he joined you, taking a seat on the couch alongside you.
The television was on, playing some old Christmas movie you vaguely recognised but had never seen. You brought your legs up onto the couch, snuggling into Doyoung’s side and nestling in further when he wrapped his arm around you. The film was already halfway through, and you were too sleepy to pay attention. It wasn’t long before you began nodding off to sleep, and you knew Doyoung was doing the same. Comfortable and relaxed, you let it happen, easing into a well-deserved nap with your best friend. Just as you fell into the unconscious, you sensed Doyoung’s mother draping a blanket over you both, and you smiled gratefully before letting yourself go.
“Taxi’s here!” Doyoung announced from his point of watch at the front door.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Doyoung’s mother pouted.
You agreed with a sad smile. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs Kim,” you bid her goodbye as Doyoung took your luggage out to the car.
“Beautiful Y/N,” she smiled back at you, taking your hands in her own. “Tell me the truth here.”
You blinked, surprised at her direct request. “Of course.”
“You and Doyoung aren’t really dating, are you?”
“I-”
“It’s okay, my love,” she reassured you. “Don’t worry about it. That Doyoung, he’ll do anything if he thinks it’ll please me.”
“He’s a good boy,” you commented, to which Mrs Kim nodded in agreement. “But how did you know?” You’d thought you’d given a pretty convincing show.
“Nothing gets past me,” she responded, her eyes glinting. “Listen. Doyoung’s partner or not, I can tell that you’re important to him. And for that, you’ll always be a member of this family. You’re always welcome in this home, Y/N.”
You swallowed back tears, touched by her warm words, and by how genuine they were. “Thank you, Mom.”
The older lady pulled you in for a hug, just as Doyoung called out to you, “Y/N, we gotta go.”
“You have my number, right?” Mrs Kim checked, and you nodded. “And keep that cookie recipe safe - three generations old, that is!”
“Of course,” you assured her, retreating to the taxi as Doyoung said his goodbyes to her.
“Come back soon, you two!”
“We will,” you and Doyoung promised her in unison.
Settled in the back of the taxi, you heaved a sigh. It had been a beautiful holiday period, but part of you was happy to be returning to the security of your own home. And an even bigger part of you was relieved to drop the act of being Doyoung’s partner.
Doyoung looked at you, a tired look in his eyes. “Y/N, I love you so much-”
“But we could never date,” you completed his statement, sensing its direction.
“Never,” agreed Doyoung with a laugh.
The two of you were much better off as friends. It would be a lie to say you’d never wondered what it would be like if your relationship ever happened to cross that boundary, but you were sated by the lesson you’d learned over the last week. Your relationship was platonic, and was destined to remain that way. That didn’t mean your relationship was any less significant than that of a romantic couple, though. Doyoung was your family. And you were beyond lucky to have found him.
#nct-writers#kpopscape#kpopuniversenet#kconnet#unfortunatus: paradiso#doyoung#kim doyoung#doyoung x reader#doyoung fluff#fake dating au#nct#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct u#nct 2020#nct 127#wayv#doyoung imagines#doyoung scenarios#christmas au#doyoung fake dating au
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take a break
five hargreeves x reader
requested by: @ohmyitsfaith
prompt: 250: “you can’t ignore me forever.”
summary: a playful argument turns to you ignoring five
trigger warnings: fluffy fluff
word count: 1.5k
a/n: so, first of all, this is sent in the apocalypse. it’s been a few years, so five and y/n are around their late teens, possibly their early twenties, you can decide for yourself. this was one of the best ideas out of a few, so i hope you like it as much as i liked writing it :) secondly, part two.four of lstw will be coming out soon as well, possibly tomorrow or monday, but i can’t promise anything. i don’t have anything else to say, so enjoy!
it had been a few years since you got yourself stuck in this hell. you had tried to mark the days in the beginning, but after a while, you slowly gave up, and started relying on the seasons to know what time of year it was. you didn’t even know how old you were now.
you were pretty sure it was summer time, now. during the winter, the weather was harsh, blizzards were a common occurrence, and you often had to stay in your shelter to wait until it calmed down before you could try to look for something to eat. in the spring, the snow slowly melted away, and when summer came through, the sun beat down on your skin and you would easily sweat. it wasn’t as bad as it was in the beginning, when fires covered the land around you and ash floated through the air.
what else could you have expected in the apocalypse?
you guys had created a little shelter in the city- which was now burned to the ground- and it was where everything you had was stored. you stocked up as much food as you could whenever it was possible to go out for food, and it was a nice place to relax whenever the weather was too harsh to do anything.
it was hard having only each other to talk to. sure, you had formed a sort of- intimate relationship- but you would eventually have to have interaction with someone else, but of course there was no one anywhere nearby. that’s how you ended up having delores around all the time. when you found her, it was surprising that a mannequin could have survived whatever ended the world, as it seemed to destroy almost everything, but you took her with you, and eventually, she became another to talk to.
you sat against one of the stone pillars that circled around your apocalyptic home, flipping through a book. you weren’t sure what the pillars had been a part of, but they served you well now as a foundation to the shelter. all of the books you had were piled up around your home, often the only source for your entertainment. some of your favorites were simply guides on different hobbies- knitting, drawing, origami- anything, really. you had picked up on a lot of things over these years of simply surviving.
looking up from the book, you let your gaze fall on five, who was scribbling away on one of the walls, trying to figure out the equation to get back to the normal world, as he had been since the beginning. it was like he never stopped. sure, you wanted to get back to your life from before, but it wasn’t like you were running out of time just yet.
“why don’t you take a break?” you call out to him in question, closing the book and letting it fall into your lap.
pushing yourself up from the wall, you stretch slightly as he looks back at you. “why would i do that?”
rolling your eyes, you toss the book back into it’s pile, “because you need to relax at some point.” you say it as if it’s obvious, and really, it is. he works himself to death and it annoyed you.
“i’ll relax when i get us back to twenty-nineteen, and we save the world.” he goes back to scribbling on the wall, and you sigh heavily as you take a seat next to delores.
“oh, doris.” you put an arm around her shoulder, leaning into the fake woman. “won’t you tell him? we have all the time in the world to get back to twenty-nineteen.”
“delores. her name is delores.” five corrects without even looking away from the stone, and you grin. he always got annoyed by the names you would call the mannequin. you tried your hardest not to call her by her actual name, just to get under his skin. “and she knows that i need to do this.”
you look at her painted face. “oh, lori. you’ve got to help me out here.” you bite your cheek, “he’s unbelievable. never knows how to relax. when’s the last time you saw him sit down, other than to eat or sleep?”
not sure if he ever has.
“exactly, delilah. thank you.” you look back to five, “you see, she agrees with me. just sit down, even if it’s only for ten minutes.”
you hear him groan as he finally turns away from the equations, dropping his arms to his sides. “delores doesn’t agree. she’s always said it’s best to keep going until i find the answer. you know, sometimes i like her more than you.”
gasping dramatically, you hold a hand to your heart. “take that back right now. debora, can you believe him?” you shake your head, clicking your tongue, “we’re both amazing in every way, he can’t compare us.”
“i can, and i did.” he shrugs his shoulders as he looks at all the numbers written over the stone, “and she’s better than you.”
frowning, you cross your arms over your chest. “fine.” you stand from the ground next to her, looking through a pile of books and grabbing one of the stories and picking delores up, before walking past the stone walls and out into the world around your cozy shelter, crossing the road that had started to become overgrown with plants, taking a seat in the grass nearby against one of the fallen power lines.
“what are you doing?” you hear five shout from your sanctuary, but you don’t answer as you open the book, flipping through to the last page you had read. you hear him sigh loudly as he finally puts his chalk on the ground, walking just outside of the pillars. “come back! you’re going to burn in the sun, and then you’re going to complain about it for weeks!”
you try to keep a grin from tugging at your lips, and just to be sure he wouldn’t see it if you failed, you turned your back to him and continued to pretend to read the book.
“y/n.” he sounds annoyed by your little act, “are you really ignoring me right now?”
when he doesn’t get an answer, he turns back to the shelter. “fine. i need the peace anyways.”
you roll your eyes as you hear him. he was annoyed, but you knew he would expect you to come back within minutes, and when you didn’t, he would continue to try to get you to come back.
“this guy, delores, he’s so hard to deal with.” you mumble to the fake woman beside you, a small grin on your face.
he’s all you have.
pursing your lips, you nod. “you’re right. he can be difficult, but he’s the only reason i’ve kept going in this nightmare of a world.”
“you can’t ignore me forever!” you hear five shout once again and you hold back your laughter by biting your lip. “just come back!”
yet again, you keep your lips tied together, but you jump slightly as he blinks in front of you. before you can turn away again, he places his hands on your cheeks, holding your head in place. “stop ignoring me.”
you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling, avoiding his gaze.
“okay, fine.” he groans, looking at delores for a second before turning his focus back to you. “i’m sorry.”
you raise an eyebrow, letting the grin you had been holding back appear. “for?”
he presses his lips together, clearly still annoyed. “really? you’re gonna do this?” you give a nod, and he looks down at the ground for a moment, running his hand down his face. “for saying delores is better than you.”
“and?” you push.
his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you in confusion, and you chuckle softly. “and you’ll take a break.” you answer your own question.
he stutters for words for a moment, “but i can’t-”
“ah ah ah!” you shush him, placing your finger to his lips, “you’re going to take a break. that’s final. even denise agrees that you need one, even if it’s important to get the equation.”
sighing heavily, he looks at the road behind you, “fine.” he mutters, keeping himself from looking at you, “i’ll take a break. but only a short one.”
“that’s good enough.” you smile, standing up and grabbing his hand, pulling him closer to you to place a kiss just at the corner of his lips before picking delores and your book up.
skipping back across the road, you put delores back in her spot, throwing the book back in it’s pile before sitting down, five following. “i’m only doing this for five minutes.”
“sure you are.” you grin, and he looks at you, displeased. “just relax.” you tell him, leaning forward and pinching his cheeks before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.
he rolled his eyes, but ended up doing as you said, and for a lot longer than five minutes, to your pleasure.
taglists
main: @horrorklaus
tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar
five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty
#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#tua#five hargreeves#number five#five#hargreeves#the umbrella academy x reader#umbrella academy x reader#tua x reader#five hargreeves x reader#number five x reader#five x reader#hargreeves x reader
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This Time— Part 5
A Nessian Fan Fic
Fic Masterlist
This chapter was a tough one for me to write. I got stuck a few times with the order of things (for this chapter and the following ones). Once I decided on that, the angst in this one was a little emotional for me to write, then edit. So, proceed with caution. That’s the official angst warning!
On a more positive note, this is a definitive turning point toward resolution, so it WILL get better! Thanks again for all of you who have offered your feedback and followed the story. Knowing y’all are enjoying this little au with me makes it all the more fun to write 😊
Trigger warning for short depiction of grief.
——————————————————————————
Birthday breakfast was really more of a birthday lunch the day after celebrating at Rita’s. Elain was sitting at the small island of Nesta’s kitchen, nursing a Gatorade and holding her head in her hands. Feyre was next to her scrolling through her phone. She was doing intel on their group’s collective social media updates, and so far, there were no embarrassing posts to deal with.
Nesta was mixing pancake batter, periodically folding in chocolate chips. Chocolate chip pancakes were reserved for Archeron birthdays or holidays, and they looked forward to sharing them when the occasions presented themselves. She poured some of the batter into her skillet, absently watching for bubbles as her indicator they were ready to flip. After making the initial flip, she walked to her refrigerator and produced a bottle of champagne with orange juice.
“Who wants to open the champagne for birthday mimosas?” She set both bottles on the island, with glasses, before turning her attention back to the pancakes. Elain’s only response was a long groan. Feyre giggled, pulled the champagne toward her, and started untwisting the cage over the cork.
“What’s the expression, El? Hair of the dog? It may make you feel better.” She stood away from the island to pop the cork. The last things they needed were physical injuries.
“I guess it can’t make me feel any worse, right?” She picked her head up from her hands. “I’m going to go grab my phone,” she said, with a cringe. She padded away to Nesta’s room, returning seconds later. She was scrolling through her phone as she walked and stopped short once she met the threshold of the kitchen, a horrified expression on her face.
”Why the fuck would I have deleted all of my texts last night?!” Her voice was more shrill than normal, and her sisters’ eyes grew at her use of “fuck” during pancake breakfast.
It was Feyre who dared answer her. “Umm... I have no idea. Maybe it was an accident?”
”That’s a pretty impressive accident.” Nesta realized her comment wasn’t helping as her sisters glared in her direction.
Elain continued. “I’ll tell you why. Because drunk me tried to hide something from sober me.” She paused for a second, blushing. “My evidence, in case you were wondering, is a text from Azriel that says: ‘*laugh emoji* Not cool. You had me worried there for a minute, Ellie. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed your birthday.’” She glanced up at them in horror.
Nesta gave her a small smile. “Ellie, I’m sure it’s nothing. Even drunk you couldn’t have said anything too terrible. Maybe just talk to Az? It would be better than wondering.”
Elain sat down, her anxiety palpable in the small kitchen. She was quiet save for the nod she’d given her sister in acknowledgment of her advice. Nesta assumed maybe she could use a little more encouragement since she didn’t look wholly convinced.
“I really think it’ll be okay. Az is reasonable and has probably said his own fair share of drunken things he would care to take back.” She offered a short chuckle before sipping her mimosa. “You could call him, maybe, or—“
”Nes, are you really preaching to me about communication right now?”
Nesta blinked, taken aback by the irritation in Elain’s voice. “I wasn’t trying to preach, El. I just meant you didn’t have to worry and could trust Az to give you a chance to—“
”The same way you gave Cassian a chance to fix whatever the hell you’re holding against him? Why should Az be any more gracious than you’ve been?” Elain snapped. Her shoulders rounded a little at her own words, and Feyre’s eyes grew to the size of two steel blue saucers.
“Cauldron, Elain,” she said, looking from one sister to the other. Her back was straight, anticipating Nesta’s best weapons: her words.
Nesta took several seconds to reflect on their current situation. It was such an unexpected shift, where Elain was the one throwing insults, and Feyre, of all people, was defensive of Nesta. She wasn’t used to this type of interaction with Elain, and her words stung more than she was willing to admit. She finished her mimosa in one swift gulp and placed her dishes in the sink.
“Lucky for you, Azriel is nowhere near as disappointing, or shitty, as I am. I’m going to shower while you two finish breakfast. I’ll bring you home when you finish.” Her tone was neutral, dry even. By all measures, it was on the milder side for Nesta. She was halfway to the bathroom when she heard Elain’s wavering voice.
“Nes, wait. I’m sorry I didn’t mean—“
“Don’t ever apologize for saying what you mean, Elain,” she said, coldly, before walking the rest of her way. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough, wanting to leave the gaping wound that Elain had ripped open far behind her.
——————————————————————————
The following week went by fairly quickly. Elain and Nesta had made up within the day, Elain insisting that she had spoken from her own nerves rather than how she truly felt. She asked if Nesta wanted to talk about what happened with Cassian, but she declined, saying it wasn’t a big deal. She tasted the lie the second it left her mouth, but she shoved that down with everything else.
Her attention to the day of the week was higher than usual in anticipation of Wednesday. She was oddly preoccupied with a day that truly meant nothing to her, but it had haunted her since she overheard Cassian’s conversation with Alis. When the day finally arrived, she found herself ruminating over their conversation, letting her imagination run wild with the possibilities of how they were spending their time.
She told herself that she didn’t care beyond the fact that he would usually tell her all about these sorts of things. Gods, it bothered her to no end that she wasn’t his person anymore.
That Thursday, she found herself getting ready for dinner with Tomas. He had called her that Monday to see if she’d like to go out, and she didn’t have a reason not to. She may have even wanted to go. The downside, when the day arrived, was that it happened to be a particularly brutal work day. She was at home touching up and mentally preparing herself for a couple of hours of conversation. She would usually call Cassian for pep talks on days like this, but their non-friendship was a dealbreaker in that department. Not to mention, he likely wouldn’t have cared to give her a pep talk for this particular night. Gods, it bothered her to no end that he wasn’t her person anymore, either.
Dinner had been fine enough. Tomas looked handsome and seemed completely engaged with her the entire night. He was interested in her work, how her life had been since he’d last seen her, and her friends. He made brief mention of her mother and how he had been really sad to hear that she passed a few years ago. His condolences were sincere, but Nesta found herself oddly defensive at his mention of her. He hadn’t known her well, since their relationship hadn’t lasted long, and she felt like he couldn’t possibly imagine the void she left in their lives.
She resisted any response beyond a “thank you”, knowing that her reaction was likely due to her death anniversary coming up within the week. The rest of the night had gone well. The food was good, the conversation was fine, Tomas was fine. They had a fine time together. Everything was just fine.
Which is why, she assumed, that Tomas had tried to kiss her at the end of the night. He had driven her home, walked her to the door, and hugged her goodbye. As he pulled away, his cheek lingered next to hers, face turning toward her in slow motion. She cleared her throat abruptly and reached into her bag for her key.
“Well, thanks for tonight! I had a nice time.” She had the key in the lock, and she was already mentally selecting her sweatpants for the evening.
“Wait.” Thomas grabbed her elbow, turning her around. “Why are you being so weird? I thought we had a good time?”
”We did. I just said I had a nice time.”
”You seem to be rushing out pretty fast for a person having fun.” He paused for a few seconds to allow her to insist that she was having fun, or to invite him inside, she thought. She did neither.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Is it Cassian?”
She knew she was balking at him, but she didn’t have it in her to control it.
“Are you kidding me? Just because I’m ending the night without kissing you or asking you to come inside and fuck me, there has to be a man responsible? Could it be because this night has taken us as far as it was ever going to?” She rolled her eyes, turned the key, and walked inside. “Goodnight, Tomas,” she said, as she shut the door in his face.
She kicked her shoes off in her entryway and tossed her purse onto the small table next to her door. She removed her dress over her head as she walked purposefully to her bedroom and ripped her sweatpants out of the too-full drawer. She pulled on an extra large t-shirt and went to the kitchen to pour herself some red wine. She settled onto her couch, put on some mindless television, and tried to relax.
She reflected over the night’s events. She was honest when she told Tomas that they had a fine time. She had enjoyed herself tonight, and she started to feel a twinge of guilt for snapping at him in her doorway. He hadn’t done anything wrong before asking that question, and if she was honest with herself, she knew why it bothered her so much. It’s not that he wasn’t handsome, that he was unkind, or that he was disrespectful. It wasn’t even that he had misjudged and asked the wrong question. The truth hammered through her brain like an ambush, and she was utterly incapable of stopping it.
He’s not Cassian.
——————————————————————————
Nesta watched several episodes of a home renovation show as she worked through her bottle of wine. She decided that it was the perfect type of show to watch on nights like tonight, where she was knee-deep in her thoughts. Her earlier revelation had sunken its claws into her brain, and she was having trouble thinking of anything else. She wasn’t sure at what point she had stopped fighting it— either glass 2 or glass 3. She finally allowed herself to take a critical look at all these pent up emotions, and noteworthy memories of Cassian started to play through her mind like a montage.
She is sitting in the passenger seat of an older, black pick-up truck. Cassian is driving, and they have the windows down to feel the cool fall breeze. They’re going for a leisurely drive because he got his license just yesterday, and he loves the freedom it’s given him. He doesn’t have to be a slave to his home life or his abusive father anymore. He can just drive. She makes a joke, and he’s laughing now. His mid-length waves are dancing around his face, and he turns to look at her for mere seconds before looking back at the road.
She sipped her wine thoughtfully, noting the memory as the first time he ever took her breath with how beautiful his joy could be. She remembered how her chest had burst with pride at being able to make him laugh and smile like that, despite his pain. She noted now what she was too scared to admit then: there was little she wouldn’t do to protect his happiness.
It’s junior prom, and she’s posted against the wall with a bottle of water. Her date is a total jerk, and she’s hoping that maybe he’ll just leave. His departure would be better than pretending to enjoy herself anymore. She sees Cassian approaching her from her left. He looks so much more mature in his tux, half of his waves tied back in a knot at the back of his head.
“Hey, Archie. Where’s your date?”
She chuckles softly. “I don’t know. But I think I like it that way. He’s kind of the worst.”
Cassian frowns. “Well, he’s an idiot, then. Dance with me?” He extends his hand to her, palm up, and offers her a half-smile. He looks almost nervous, and her heart swells with affection for him.
“Always. You’re my favorite person here.”
She wiped the tears from her face, not sure of when she started crying. The feeling now so vivid; her favorite person. The truth of that statement refused to be downplayed. She shook her head, realizing it to be as accurate as ever.
It’s her sophomore year of college, and her friends are at a local bar celebrating the end of finals. She hasn’t been able to see them nearly as often this semester, and she’s enjoying their time together. At a certain point, a guy she doesn’t know gets awfully too comfortable with her, and he’s touching her all over. She tries to walk away, and he grips her arm tightly as she fights against him. He’s so much stronger than she is, but her brain can only focus on getting away from him. Just before the panic sets in, she sees two familiar figures approaching from the side. Faster than she can note what is really happening, Azriel is separating the guy’s hand from Nesta’s arm and is shoving him too easily away from her. She’s immediately wrapped in a tight hug, her face tucked tightly into Cassian’s chest. She inhales his scent as she steadies her breath, and she clutches the back of his shirt like a lifeline. She isn’t truly crying, but tears are starting to pool in her eyes from the sheer relief of being safe with him. He pulls back only as much as he needs to cup her face with his hands. His brow is deeply furrowed as he scans her face in that knowing way of his, and his lips form a tight line. He is painfully concerned. He is furious. He is fighting all of those things to remain even for her.
“Are you okay? Nes, please. Talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.”
”I’m okay.” Her response is quiet, robotic.
“He’s gone. Azriel took care of it.”
She was yearning for a sense of normalcy, the intensity of his care becoming too much. She resorts to humor as she usually does.
“I’m surprised. It’s usually you who runs straight to the front lines. Forever the hero.” She cracks a small smile, hoping it’ll comfort him.
He’s still holding her face in his large hands. He drops his gaze briefly as he shakes his head, and when he looks back at her face, he’s wearing an ironic sort of smile.
“All I could see was you.”
The memory knocked the breath out of her, having been so long since she had thought about it. She understood his meaning then, but it hit her with a renewed vigor now. She superseded his basic instincts to protect, eliminate the threat. When it came to her, he trusted no one else and had to personally ensure she was okay. He would throw himself between her and anyone or anything that threatened her, and he would do it happily. Her heart clenched as she thought about how no one else could have made her feel comfortable or calmed her under those circumstances. Another tear rolled down her cheek at how careless she had been with his heart and how much she had taken him for granted. At how much she had always lied to herself. Because she was feeling particularly masochistic, she entertained one last memory, her tears pouring.
Her mother is terminally ill, and the doctors believe she will leave them any day now. It’s 3 AM, and her phone rings. Her father tells her she’s gone, and she holds herself together until she hangs up the phone. She is panicking; can’t catch her breath. Her father is calling Elain and Feyre, and they are supposed to meet at his house when they can get themselves ready. She doesn’t know how she will face this. She can’t do it. She can’t do it. She Can’t. Do. It.
Her fingers work automatically, pressing Cassian’s contact and putting him on speaker phone. Holding it to her face seems too taxing, and her tears will smear all over the screen. He answers in two rings, his voice gravelly with sleep.
”Nes?”
Her only answer is a choked sob, followed by several attempts at catching her breath.
“Nesta. I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me.”
She complies, finally mastering herself enough to say, “Momma” through her sobs.
“Nesta. Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’m in the truck now. Please stay with me.”
Everything else is a blur except for hearing him come through her door. He opens her bedroom door swiftly, obviously in a hurry to get to her. He leaves the bedroom light off, allowing the hallway lighting to be his guide to her. His weight is shifting the mattress next to her, and he’s leaning against the headboard. He easily pulls her into his lap, and she’s tucking her face into his neck as she cries. She curls her legs into herself, and he holds her for what feels like seconds and years. She feels something wet soaking into the shoulder of her t-shirt and realizes his tears are falling as well.
He drives her to her father’s once she’s ready, holding her hand the entire way. He never leaves her side the days following, through arrangements, the ceremony, and family visitations. He makes sure she eats on somewhat of a schedule because time is all an illusion to her. He sleeps on her couch every night for the couple of weeks following, knowing bedtime is the hardest time for her, and she won’t want to be alone. She is so touched by his dedication, and she isn’t sure she could do this life without him.
She cried for a long time, only recovering when she felt like she had nothing left to give. She was hardly surprised at the landslide of emotions tackling her considering she had been repressing them for the entirety of their friendship. It was now apparent to her what should have always been apparent: she was in love with Cassian.
She was in love with him, but she had been myopic for so long that she may have finally exhausted his love for her.
——————————————————————————
A/N: Well, here it is. We’re nearing the end of this one, and I’m excited to get the rest up for y’all. As always, your feedback/ comments are welcome! If you’d like to be tagged, feel free to message, comment, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you to the tag list.
Tags are below!
@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @ladywitchling // @b00kworm //
#nessian#nesta archeron#nesta x cassian#nesta#cassian#acotar#nessian au#nessian fwb#nessian angst#nessian fanfic#acowar#acomaf#nessian fluff#archeron sisters#acotar fanfiction
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Gwenvid Week 2020
Hello Camp Camp fans and welcome to Gwenvid Week 2020! It’s been a rough year, so let’s take a week to celebrate the things in life that make us happy - namely, our two favorite counselors!
This year, Gwenvid Week runs Monday Sept 7 thru Sunday Sept 13. While we’re waiting for the party to get started, we’ll be revisiting some of the works created for previous years, with the tag #gwenvidweek flashback.
Intros
Ettie - Hiya, I've been involved in the fandom since Forest ever-so-lovingly held me hostage with her amazing writing about our dearest co counsellors. I'm thrilled to help out this year and see all your amazing work. Give it your best!
Chi - Hi! I’m an honorary fandom member. I’ve never seen the show, but thanks to Forest, I know all about it and ship the two cutest/most relatable counselors. I’m super excited to step in and help out this year!
Forest - Is taking a backseat this year, but thanks to all her hard work over the years, we’ve had a fantastic base to build on!
Prompts
Mon Sept 7 - Before Camp/After Camp
Tues Sept 8 - Explore/First Aid
Wed Sept 9 - Deepest Inner Thoughts/As Told From an Outside Perspective
Thurs Sept 10 - Day Off/Back to Civilization
Fri Sept 11 - AU/Canon Divergence
Sat Sept 12 - Snow Day/Heatwave
Sun Sept 13 - Free Day!
Rules/FAQ
What do I do?
Have fun! You can create art of any kind, from fanfics to edits to drawings or whatever, or even just making a post about your headcanons!
What if I don’t like the prompts?
There’s no need to abide strictly by the prompts. We tried to keep them relatively vague so that there are a lot of directions for both artists and writers to explore, but if you have another idea, there’s no reason you shouldn’t still participate!
What if I can’t participate every day?
That’s completely fine! This is first and foremost supposed to be fun, so whether you do every single day (or even more than one for each day, if you want) or just a single post, you are welcome and we couldn’t be happier to have you!
How does our stuff get on this blog?
If you’d like, you can submit something, but for the most part it’s a matter of tagging this blog and/or using the tag #gwenvidweek.
I sent you something and it’s not on the blog. What happened?
First off, feel free to send a message or an ask! Odds are that it either is in a queue or that we did not see it. The Tumblr notification feature is not always very good at alerting of tags, so it’s never a bad idea to send a link to your post over PM, just to make sure we see it.
There is a chance that something about the post made us not quite feel comfortable sharing it; that’s quite unlikely, but it will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis between the moderators. If you have any concerns, please address us about it!
Is there anything I should be worried about seeing?
This blog is willing to share NSFW content, and will tag it as such so that followers can blacklist it. Tags for excessive violence/gore and other potentially triggering topics or images will also be used as needed, and you should feel free to send asks or messages requesting a particular warning tag.
No posts from bloggers who have counselor/camper content will be reblogged to this page. This also applies to all blogs containing offensive or inappropriate content involving children. This is to prevent anyone who comes here for Gwenvid content from indirectly stumbling onto posts that make them feel unsafe. “Counselor/camper content” includes text posts, fanfiction, or art depicting and/or promoting said content, but does not necessarily pertain to “supporters.” We are always open to asks and messages regarding any sensitive content that is potentially a problem, and are willing to remove or tag such content as needed to make sure everyone has a good time enjoying this good good ship.
GET HYPE! The party starts in ONE WEEK!
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Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealousy of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.
Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).
Chapter 101
Teris sat down at a table with her friends. Excited for their much needed girls day, Venice and Teris had decided to leave early and have breakfast at a restaurant in Raque. Since Abril and Bran weren’t meeting Ricte till later in the afternoon, the two had joined them.
With the restaurant crowded, they took the first available table. At first Abril had complained about sitting out on the balcony, muttering about the salty sea breeze. Then she made Teris move, saying she wanted the seat with a view of the water.
Having seen the view from higher balcony’s at much fancier restaurants, Teris let Abril have the seat without a fuss. Hopefully giving Abril the seat would better her mood and allow Teris and Venice to finally get Abril to open up about what was going on with her, Gendry, and Ricte.
But apparently Venice had other ideas since as soon as the waitress took their order and left, she looked at Teris and demanded to know. “What’s going on?”
Teris blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. Spill.” Abril ordered.
“About Yami?” Teris’ eyes darted to Bran. She wasn’t adverse to girl talk; but there was no way she was doing so with Bran there.
“No, silly. How are you holding up? First Bran and I bring in that guy from those Crazies, only to have him die five days later. And the day after Bran and I bring that guy in, you and Yami are abducted. Never mind Nozel and Fuegoleon getting taken the night before that and ending up in Healers Hall.” Venice frowned, worried about her friend. “It’s no wonder Jax gave you and Yami the day off. You two have been through a lot.”
Teris huffed. “When aren’t we going through a lot? I have a feeling that’s what they’re going to put on my headstone. Here lies Teris Nova, she went through a lot.”
“Hey! Don’t talk like that! Your name’s gonna be Teris Sukehiro by the time there’s need for any headstone.” Teasing as she was, Venice was also deadly serious. There was no way her friend was dying anytime soon. Not if she had something to say about it.
“I know you can’t say much. But at least tell us you all learned something useful before that guy died.” Abril said, hopeful tone filled with disgust for Flic and the Agents of Chaos.
Teris glanced a Bran once again, knowing he knew the sad truth that they had learned little to nothing of use from Flic. Looking between Venice and Abril, she sighed wondering what she could tell her friends that would give them hope but wouldn’t be a lie.
101.2
Yami hadn’t needed his sense of Ki to be able to tell Bran had been disappointed he wouldn’t be spending the day off with the guys. Bran’s guilt over his boyhood friend sweetening up to Abril, when Gendry had been the first Black Bull to befriend him, likely hadn’t helped. At least Gendry wasn’t the kind of person who took his hurt and jealousy out on others. Yami doubted he would’ve been so dispassionate if in Gendry’s place. In fact he had taken his fair share of anger and jealousy over Nozel out on Bran by kicking the younger man out of his room so he could sit at Bran’s window and wait for Teris to return.
Teris… Yami smiled at the thought of her. He had teased her early this morning, feigning hurt feelings and saying she couldn’t wait to be away from him. Teris had laughed at his toying act and silenced him with a kiss, promising to make it up to him later. That promise made Yami eager for the days end so he could return to her. But first, he had some mana to expend in the hopes that it would ease the building force inside him and help with the constant undercurrent that made him want to destroy somebody just for breathing in his direction.
Seated on the ground along the perimeter of the Green Mantis’ training yard, Yami drank from a water skin and watched Jack and Tobin start their fight.
“This should be interesting. Jack’s slash magic can cut through anything given enough time to adjust but against Tobin’s giant magic it won’t make much of a difference.” Yami turned to Gendry thinking of the battle they just had. “You’ve progressed further since last time we fought. Who have you been training with?”
Gendry shrugged, eyes on the match. “Who ever I can. Mostly Bran.”
Yami nodded. Bran and Gendry were both Third Class Intermediate Magic Knights. Though his and Teris’ influence might've encouraged the rest of the Black Bulls to be a little more engaged and proactive about their duties. It had been Gendry's friendship with Bran that had prompted Gendry into wanting to become a better Magic Knight. Sadly, Abril hadn’t been all that enthused about Gendry’s newfound interest. Instead of seeing it as something they could do together, Abril complained about the time Gendry’s new focus took away from their usual activities.
Yami pushed the cork back in the stopper and tossed the water skin aside. “We should schedule a regular sparring session. Nothing too frequent. Every other week or once a month maybe.”
“I would've thought you had enough going on with being Vice Captain and dealing with the Agents of Chaos mess.” Gendry said.
“If you don’t want to just say so.” Yami said, eyes on Jack and Tobin.
“That’s not it at all. I’d like to have a set sparring session with you. I could use the practice.”
“Then?” Yami questioned.
“It’s exactly as I said. I thought you’d be bogged down and busy. I don’t want to add to the pile of things pulling at you and become a nuisance.” Gendry said.
Yami huffed, eyes following the fight. “Don’t think you’re capable of being a nuisance.”
“Tell that to Abril.” Gendry muttered.
Yami raised an eyebrow. He was no closer to understanding Gendry and Abril’s relationship then he had been during his first year as a Magic Knight. Not that he had bothered trying to understand it. Still, Gendry was a friend and friends had to occasionally show they had an interest in the others hopes and lives.
“Still wanna marry her?” Yami asked.
“I said I think I might want to marry her. And yeah. I still think I might.” Gendry said.
“Then fix things with her and see that she’s happy. If that’s too much trouble then let it go and be glad you have your answer on that ‘might want to marry her’ thing.” Yami told.
“You and Teris make it look so easy.” Gendry sighed, his complaint both envious and amazed.
Yami’s hearty laugh bounced off the surrounding trees. It echoed so loudly through the sparring field that it gave Tobin pause. Jack took advantage of the distraction, sending out a slash that knocked Tobin on his ass.
Gaining control of his laughter, Yami asked. “Which part looks easy? Dealing with a group of crazies? Or being unable to go out and do anything together because Bird Braid’s father might send more people to try and kill me? Or maybe it’s the likely future fight I’ll have with her brother to free her from her family that looks easy to you.”
“I don’t mean any of that.” Gendry said. “I know none of that can be easy. But that’s all outward stuff you have to deal with. I’m talking about the two of you. As a couple.”
Yami’s humored grin turned dopey as he thought of Teris. “Yeah. I really lucked out. Teris is an easy woman to get along with. Pig headed, prideful, overly curious, too caring brat that she is; she’s perfect.”
“Abril’s great too. I just wish she thought I wasn’t so inconsequential.” Gendry said.
“If she thinks that then she stupider than I thought.” Yami said, seeing that Jack was leading Tobin to make the kind of strike he wanted in order to serve up a good return.
Gendry scowled at Yami.
Sensing the change in his friend, Yami said by way of apology. “Fine. No bad talking the Inch Worm. So what’s the problem between you two anyway?”
Gendry ran a hand through his hair. Other than Abril’s complaints about the time his training took away from them, there was the matter of Ricte. But Ricte was a secondary problem. A causal result of an underlying problem he had been unable to name. “I don’t know.”
“Then find out. If it’s something you think is worth working on, work on it.” Yami said.
“What if it’s me? What if there’s something about me that she doesn’t like?” Gendry asked.
“She wouldn’t be your constant shadow and complaining that your training was taking time away from her if she wasn’t interested in you.” Yami told.
Gendry nodded at that, feeling better. “So what do you say to every other Monday morning?”
Yami’s brows pulled together. “For?”
“Our sparing sessions.” Gendry said.
Yami shook his head. “I got way too much going on. You’d only become a nuisance.”
“Every other Monday it is.” Gendry grinned.
101.3
Breakfast long since finished Teris, Venice, Abril, and Bran still sat at the balcony table.
“Betrothed?” Teris blinked at Venice. “When? How? Kess and Jon haven’t been dating that long. Have they? It’s not like they had long held feelings for each another the way Tobin did for you. Did they?”
Venice shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know. I didn’t think he liked anyone else while we were dating. I only heard about the engagement yesterday afternoon. From the sound if it, they had some big fancy dinner between their families the day before that. I don’t know anything more. But since you know how all that stuff works. I was hoping you could tell me if this was Jon or his parents doing.”
Teris shook her head in disbelief. For it to be official and celebrated with a dinner, Jon and Kess’ parents would've had to have agreed to the match. But was it their parents who had made the match? Or Jon and Kess seeking one, and gaining approval? Jon might've been a bastard son of Lord Denwulf. But the Denwulf’s were quite a ways up the noble ladder from Kess’ family. And with Kess being the youngest of three daughters, it wasn’t too far fetched for Lord Yates to look to wed Kess to Jon.
“What’s it matter anyway? You’re with Tobin.” Abril said.
“I just think it’s a bit sudden and am worried for Jon’s sake.” Venice snapped. “I mean, he and Kess just started dating what? Back near the Star Awards?”
“Far as we know.” Teris nodded.
Abril shrugged. “Well, when you know. You know.”
Teris and Venice turned to her.
“What?” Abril demanded, shoulders stiffening under their gaze.
Bran’s eyes darted around the three women. He had been quiet for so long, he wondered if they had forgotten he was there. Having been the first son, Bran was use to being forgotten while his seven older sisters talked. In his experience, being forgotten was far better than being remembered.
“What do you know of it?” Venice scoffed.
Abril crossed her arms, scowling. “Apparently nothing.” Before talk of Jon and Kess could continue, Abril exhaled loudly. Resting her elbows on the table, she whined. “How does one know?”
“How does one know what?” Teris asked.
“That someone’s the one. How do you know?” Abril asked.
“I thought Gendry was your one.” Venice teased.
“So did I.” Abril mumbled.
Sharing a look with Venice, Teris prompted. “But?”
“I don’t know! He never talks of the future. How can I know Gendry’s the one if I don’t know if I’m his one?” Abril asked.
“Because the only other person Gendry regularly talks to is Yami and Bran, and I don’t think he wants to end up with either of them.” Venice played.
“It doesn’t really matter how Gendry feels. I mean, it does in the end. But it doesn’t change the way you feel at the start. Think about how torn up I was during that time Yami refused to speak to me before we got together. Him being an idiot ass didn’t change how I felt about him. Or how Tobin felt about Venice.” Teris gestured to her friend.
“The man was persistent.” Venice nodded of Tobin.
“I finally told him how I feel.” Abril muttered about Gendry.
“In words? With your voice?” Venice questioned, in disbelief.
Abril nodded.
“What did he say?” Teris asked.
“What he always says. Nothing.” Abril answered, exasperated.
Venice huffed. “Sounds about right. Guys are stupid. They either won’t shut up when you want them to be quiet. Or they refuse to talk when you want them to speak.”
“They’re not some pet that obeys.” Teris chuckled.
“I know! They’re incapable of obeying. Though it’d be nice if they at least tried to listen.” Venice complained.
Teris shook her head smiling.
“Ricte proposed.” Abril said.
“What!” The two girls and Bran exclaimed.
“Why?” Bran demanded in guilty horror.
“When?” Teris asked.
“How?” Venice questioned.
“In his last letter.” Abril answered.
“He proposed in a letter?” Venice asked, incredulous.
Teris stared, dumbfounded.
Bran frowned, unhappy with his friend.
“That’s her there.” Someone said, pointing to their table.
For a second Teris thought their waitress had complained to the restaurants manager about them lingering at the table till noon and was pointing them out. She had a moment to think that they should leave a hefty tip for taking up the spot and the waitress’ chance of further customers when a magical burst of air exploded at their table knocking them back.
101.3.2
“When you insisted I take some time off, I didn’t expect you to pay call and ask for this.” Nozel murmured, uncomfortably.
Walking beside her Vice Captain, Kess glanced out over the sea shore. While not blatantly obvious, it was clear Nozel had been struggling with some inner turmoil since his release from Healer’s Hall after his abduction by the Agents of Chaos. It was why Kess had given Nozel three days leave as soon as his debriefing about those events was done.
“Neither did I.” Kess tucked her hair behind an ear, betrothal ring glittering in the sunlight. “And I’m sorry to take you away from your family on your last day off, but I could use some help. And, well… I thought this might be a way for us to bond outside of work.”
Nozel’s father wasn’t even here. And after three days with his siblings, Nozel wasn’t all that sorry to be called away from them. He usually avoided Noelle at all costs anyway, and Nebra wanted to do nothing more than lounge out on the family’s private beach; where all Solid had done the entire time was complain about everything. Funnily enough the one thing Solid hadn’t complained about was Nozel leaving them to help his Captain in her ask. Instead Solid had taken advantage of it, saying if Nozel could go off without them then he and their cousin Kirsch could leave Nebra, Noelle, and Mimosa at the Silva’s beach estate and come into town for the day.
That’s where Nozel was now, walking the bustling boardwalk of Raque with Captain Kess. A part of him wondered why he and his Captain needed anything more than a working relationship; an all business approach had seemed to work well enough for Captain Pyter. But since becoming Vice Captain, Nozel had discovered that, though not necessary, some kind of acquaintance outside of work was of helpful use for the productive betterment of work. That’s not to say he was going to turn into Captain Kess and seek to be warm and inviting, encouraging his subordinates to come to him with their personal problems. But he didn’t want to be like Captain Pyter had been either, completely distant and uninterested in his squad members troubles.
Yet even after coming to the conclusion that developing some kind of friendly acquaintance outside of work was of benefit, Nozel thought his Captain's request was too much. More than that, he didn’t think he was anywhere near qualified to help her. Personally, Nozel wouldn’t have even asked his closest friend to help choose a betrothal gift; though Fuegoleon likely would’ve invited himself. Yet here Nozel was, at Kess’ request, helping her pick out a betrothal gift for Jon when he barely knew Kess or the Azure Deers Vice Captain outside of them being capable Magic Knights.
Nozel cleared his throat to say as much for the second time when a small explosion from a balcony down the way had them rushing to see what happened.
101.3.3
Coughing, Teris blinked through the dust and tried to focus her blurred vision. Though the ringing in her ears muffled most everything out, she managed to hear someone talking.
The voice said. “We only need the light magic user.”
Hearing the same, Venice shouted. “Teris! Get out of here!”
Teris was loathed to leave her friends. But if all they wanted was her, chances were it would be safer for her friends and trapped civilians if she left. Heart hammering, she thought of Yami. If they wanted her, did that mean there were others looking for him?
Her friends were close enough that she could light travel them all. Hoping she didn’t burn them too badly, Teris attempted to light travel them all to the Green Mantis sparring field where she knew Yami to be.
A cold prickle ran down her spine when she wasn’t able to. It was different from the negating effects of Calen’s magic. This felt more like a constraining barrier.
She looked up and saw herself crouching twenty paces away. Surreal as the sight was, Teris instantly realized Abril had used her transformation magic to take her form. So whatever was stopping her from light traveling wasn’t blocking all magic. That was good to know.
Teris shook her head at Abril trusting she would understand the message that they were stuck here. Never did she expect Abril to answer Venice in her stead.
“I can’t. They must have some sort of blocking thingy.” Abril hollered.
Knowing Teris would never refer to a magical block as a blocking thingy, Venice's face scrunched up. She turned, the two Teris’ giving her pause for a fraction of a second. Seeing Bran near the real Teris, she gave a tight smile and nodded.
Eyes on Abril, Venice said. “Guess we’ll have to make a run for it, Vice Captain. On your order.”
Abril blinked. As accustomed as she was to yelling about how she wanted things done, no one ever listened. She finally understood Gendry’s reasoning for wanting to become a better Magic Knight. It wasn’t because he had sold out to the system and wanted to move up the ranks. It was because he wanted to be of help to his friends.
“Now!” Another female voice commanded.
The four Black Bulls turned to see Kess and Nozel. Teris’ eyes widened, realizing what the newly arrived Silver Eagles were about to do.
“Move!” Teris ordered Venice and Abril as she grabbed a hold of Bran.
Thankfully Bran was already cloaked in mana skin. It made Teris feel less guilty for shoving him over the broken balcony railing. Without a moments pause, she jumped after him.
Nozel’s mercury rain could be made dense or sparse. The one thing he could not yet do was direct it so as not to strike comrades who were in the field of the silver drops. Kess used her shadow magic to form long arms that pulled and pushed citizens out of danger. The Silver Eagles Captain created a shield that blocked one of Nozel’s liquid metal drops from hitting Venice.
“Nozel. Cover the other one. Venice and I got Teris.” Kess ordered, moving to Abril.
Nozel wasn’t sure if his Captain realized that wasn’t the real Teris, but he did. Abril might be able to make herself look like Teris; but she moved nothing like Teris.
A magical eagle of mercury waiting to catch him, the Silver Eagle’s Vice Captain leapt over the balcony’s edge. He saw Teris battling someone a couple blocks away and flew over to assist. Knocking the man out from behind, Nozel made sure to cut the assailant with his mercury. If the man managed to regain consciousness before things calmed and he was arrested, mercury poisoning would slow him down.
Pulling Teris onto the mercury eagle with him, Nozel took back to the air. “Where’s Bran?”
“I sent him to the nearest Sentries station to contact Headquarters for back-up.” Teris answered.
Nozel shook his head. “Doubt they’ll have better luck. Captain Kess already tried to use her communication crystal to call for reinforcements.”
Teris cursed, having feared as much; but Bran was clever. He would know a communications block when faced with one and order whatever Sentries had magic capable of flight or other swift travel to get outside of the block and contact Headquarters. Till then--
Teris frowned. “Where are you taking us?”
Eyes scanning for attackers, Nozel told. “Outside of whatever block they have in place. I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t light traveled to safety; because whatever they’re doing to block communications is also blocking transportation spells.”
“No!”
“No?” Nozel glanced at her, brow furrowed.
Teris shook her head. “I mean, yes, they’re probably blocking transportation spells; I can’t light travel. But you can’t take us away! My friends--”
“You’re the one they want.” Nozel cut in.
“And Abril was left behind looking exactly like me! Nozel, we can’t run. I’m their Vice Captain.”
Ignoring her, Nozel kept flying. Did Teris think he wanted to leave the others behind? It was his duty as a Magic Knight to protect the Clover Kingdom and its people, yet he had left injured civilians in need back there.
“Your Captain's back there.” Teris tried.
“Captain Kess ordered me to look after you.”
“Nozel—“
“My Captain's on the scene therefore my orders superseded yours.” Nozel snapped.
In that second of distraction, Nozel didn’t see the whirlwind that knocked his magical eagle off course. Crouching lower, Nozel widened his stance to keep his balance and fought to right their ride.
Unsteady from the tumbling eagle, there was nothing Teris could to when a lance of condensed air struck her. The world spiraled at a dizzying speed as she was sent flying off the eagle and through the air. Barely cloaking herself in mana in time, Teris landed on a tiled rooftop and rolled.
101.3.4
Bran was desperate and torn. He had to help his comrades. He had to help Teris. But his Vice Captain had given him clear instructions. After realizing a communication block was in place, Bran had ordered the Sentries capable of quick magical travel to get out of the communications block and inform Headquarters of the attacks; while commanding the rest of the Sentries to help the citizenry to safety.
Riding with a Sentry atop a large magically created lizard, Bran looked over his shoulder at the battling team of Sentries he had left behind among the sand dunes just outside of Raque. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. He had now left not just his friend's and comrades, but two fights.
“If we come across more hostiles, you need to keep on going, sir. I’ll do my best to distract and hold them off.” The Sentry told Bran, sweating as he urged his magic to make the green glowing lizard move faster.
Though Bran understood it was because he was the only one who could give Headquarters more information about the attack; the thought of having to leave someone else behind made him feel even more like a failure.
Clutching the communication crystal the Captain of the area Sentries station had given him, Bran tried to think. This wasn’t like the Wild Fire and battle with Sorcery Lances from a couple months ago. Bran couldn’t assist his friends by battling these people with a deer. Even if a large sand cat or mid-sized sea fox had been near enough for his magic to seek out and control, it wouldn’t do much good. Not when the fight was in a large town.
Other than insects, Bran couldn’t control multiple creatures. He needed something more; but he had nothing more. All he could do was leave his friends and allies to fight, and hope he was able to fetch real help in time.
Yami had been wrong to show any interest and trust in him. He was weak. Even with all his training and all he had done. He was useless.
Tears stung Bran’s eyes at his own hated inadequacy. Some Magic Knight he was, left riding with a Sentry for help. With all the large fleet footed animals scared off further than his magics reach, he couldn’t even quickly get out of the communications block without assistance. He was undeserving of the promotion he got for his efforts a couple months back during the Wild Fire outbreak. He didn’t deserve to be a Third Class Intermediate Magic Knight. He didn’t even deserve to be a Magic Knight.
His grimoire, glowing and hovering beside him, suddenly brightened. The pages flipped of their own accord. A blank page came into being, added to the tome. Writing sparked into existence as a new spell appeared.
101.3.5
Breath knocked out of her, Teris coughed. Her rolled landing stopped at the feet of a scruffy faced, red haired man. Sucking in a gulp of air, she squinted up at him.
“Teris Nova.” The man said.
“If you think I’m Teris Nova you’re in for a disappointment” Teris said, noting the sword of swirling air he held.
“We’ll sort out which of you is the real one later. For now surrender and come with me, and I’ll see no one else gets harmed.”
“And who might you be?” Teris asked.
“Commander Fanzell.” Fanzell said.
It was then that Teris noticed the diamond on his grimoire. Chastising herself for not catching it immediately, she said. “You’re a Magic Warrior.”
“I am.” Fanzell inclined his head.
Wondering how a team of Magic Warriors had gotten this deep into the Clover Kingdom, Teris said conversationally. “You’re a long way from home. Lost? You know you could’ve simply asked for directions.”
Fanzell’s blue eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to tell her to stop wasting time when Teris shot out a beam of light. The hit knocked Fanzell back to the next roof over.
Teris turned and sprinted in the direction of Nozel. She had wondered at his delay and now saw why. The Silver Eagle was still flying threw the air, only he was fighting a man on a cloud of smoke. Teris lept to the next buildings roof. As soon as she landed she was sent flying by a condensed burst of air.
Shaking his head clear, Fanzell rode a whirlwind after Teris. It was a chaotic way to travel, the wind tunnel difficult to control. As soon as he reached the roof she had landed on he hopped off the mini tornado and let it fade.
Pointing a magically created sword of wind down at her, Fanzell told. “I have no wish to harm you.”
Teris rolled over with a groan. Even cloaked in mana the hit had hurt. Fanzell watched her carefully, mindful of where Teris pointed her hands.
Acting as if she was still battling the pain and an unclear head, Teris quickly glanced at his stance. A large undulating shadow crossed overhead. It was a massive flock of seagulls, and they were descending.
Teris’ legs swung out just as Yami had taught her. She cloaked her legs in mana at the last moment, least the cloak alert Fanzell to what she was doing.
As Fanzell fell, Teris jumped to her feet.
Stunned, Fanzell looked up expecting Teris to have made a run for it again. Instead he saw Teris’ fist right before it met his face. Fanzell heard a crack. Nose broken, his hands cupped his bloody face. He cursed the pain and spotted vision, loosing sight of Teris.
Teris backed up as the mass of birds swooped and attacked Fanzell with claw and beak. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered at the sight. The birds were surely being controlled by Bran; but he was only able to control a single, what he called, higher mind creature at a time. Not having the time to ponder it, Teris hoped this meant Bran was safe and would soon get passed the block to contact Headquarters.
She spun around and looked for Nozel. She caught sight of him moments before he was knocked off his mercury eagle by the Smoke Mage. The eagle swooped and struck the side of a manor house in an attempt to catch him. Nozel, the eagle, and the Smoke Mage disappeared behind a canopy of trees growing on the hillside.
“Nozel!” Teris shouted and cursed when she tried and failed to light travel to him. Leaving Fanzell to Bran and the attacking seagulls, she took off running and leaping from roof to roof.
101.3.6
Venice glanced to the door where Abril and two Magic Warriors had disappeared, cursing that she and Kess hadn’t been able to hold all of them back.
Kess used her shadow magic to shield Venice from a magical attack.
“Thanks.” Venice called, eyes darting back to the enemy. She created a mirror that deflected an attack and directed it at one of the Magic Warriors. “Congratulations, by the way.”
Kess scowled as she sent a shadowy mass of arrows at their attackers. “For what?”
“Your betrothal.” Venice said.
“I don’t think now's the time for that.” Kess snapped.
“Well.” Venice shrugged, trapping a Magic Warrior in a mirror, “seeing as we may die. I didn’t want go to my grave having you think I was upset and not happy for you and Jon. You are happy about it, right? This isn’t something your parents are forcing you to do?”
“Will you shut up!” Kess shouted.
101.3.7
Running away from two Magic Warriors, Abril lept off a second floor landing. Her calculated drop was disturbed by two young boys. She landed on them, the three of them falling to the ground.
Abril got up only to trip and fall when her foot caught on some billowy fabric.
“Ow! How dare you! Let go!” A silver haired boy snapped when Abril tried to use him to steady herself.
“Get off!” Abril barked. She kicked the billowy, over-sized sleeve that belong to the shirt the red haired boy was wearing. The fine fabric tore as she ripped her trapped foot free.
“Will you—Teris?”
Abril blinked. Precious seconds wasted as she stared at the red haired boy before remembering the form she wore. “Yes?” She said, uncertainly.
“It is I. Kirsch.” The red haired boy placed a manicured hand gently to his chest.
Moment broken, Abril shook off the torn piece of silk. “Good for you. Now get off.”
“There she is!” One of Abril’s pursuers pointed down at her.
Abril’s head darted up. She rolled to her knees and pushed to her feet. “Nice to see you, Kirsch. Bye.”
Only she didn’t get very far. Feet tripping over the other boys legs, Abril fell again. Looking up at boy, she recognized a familiar familial stare of cold blue eyes and distinctive silver hair.
“Silva.” Abril growled.
“You’re not Teris.” Solid accused.
The echoing sound of footfalls descending the stairs rang loud in her ears. Abril planted a hand on the silver haired boys shoulder and pushed to her feet. “Don’t tell them that. Stay outta their way and get somewhere safe. Nozel’s orders.”
Solid blinked at the fake Teris who took off at a run.
Kirsch looked after her and declared. “How utterly unbeautiful!”
Neither young man noticed one of the Magic Warriors break off from the others and stalk toward them.
101.3.8
Teris slid between Nozel and Lotus. Nozel barely created a shield of mercury before a spatial attack hit, taking a large swath of mercury.
Lotus balked at the attack and turned. Seeing Galleo, he put his hands on his hips. “The order was to take her into custody. Not wipe her from existence.”
“She’s still alive. Isn’t she?” Galleo said.
Lotus looked down at Teris. “Sorry about that. Care to surrender?”
Teris kicked out trying to trip the Smoke Mage the same way she had done with Fanzell. Ready for either a physical or magical attack, Lotus saw the strike coming and hopped over her swinging leg.
“Figured that burly mate of yours would've taught you some--” Lotus’ voice cut out. He stumbled, Teris having kicked his left knee, hyper-extending it.
Nozel pulled Teris to her feet. His knees trembled under his own weight, much of his mana having been drained during his fight with Lotus.
“You alright?” Teris panted.
“Fine. You?” Nozel asked.
“Not dead yet.” Teris answered.
“Not funny.” Nozel grumbled. “That one has smoke magic.”
“Mine can spatial attack.” Teris said.
“I noticed.” Nozel replied.
“Care to switch?” Teris asked, figuring Nozel could block a few strikes till help came, or his mana recovered enough for him to do something other than defense. In any case he wasn’t going to last much longer if he continued fighting the Smoke Mage. “Or, I could take them both on--”
“No.” Nozel said, sounding as fatigued as he felt. Though he didn’t like the idea of not finishing a fight he started, Teris, though out of breath, seemed far from tired. If anything she seemed excited by the challenge; that had to be Yami’s and the Black Bulls influence he though in disgust. It was the fact that he had already lost so much mana in his fight with the Smoke Mage that decided it for Nozel. “I got the Spatial Mage. Just—don’t get too close to the Smoke Mage. He’ll siphon off your mana.”
Lotus smiled at Teris as Nozel stepped to the one called Galleo.
“I was beginning to wonder if I would ever meet the other half of the famous duo.” Lotus said. “Not much about work gets me excited. It’s more of a necessary hassle in order to keep the family housed and fed. But when the order came for this… I must admit to having some interest.”
“You’re the one Yami faced during the Battle at the Border.” Teris surmised. She wished Yami was here, and that they could still feed off each others mana the way they had back then. “He said you talked too much. Is that the only play you have? Disarm and delay with mindless chatter till your magic renders your opponent useless?”
Lotus shrugged lazily. “It’s worked for me thus far. Why change what isn’t broken?”
Teris released bit of her mana, magically heating up the air around her to the point that it burned off Lotus’ smoke. The man’s smoke had been so sparse and thin that she hadn’t been able to see it. But she sensed it as her mana made contact with it and it burned it away.
His siphoning smoke burned off, Lotus gave a weak smile his brow beading with sweat at the heat radiating from Teris’ magic. “My wife is pregnant with our second child.” He told.
“I’ll see you have a quill and paper so you can write to them from your cell.” Teris said.
“That would be appreciated.” Lotus said, readying his attack.
“Stand down or these two die.” Came a proud booming voice.
Teris turned, eyes widening.
“Solid!” Nozel blinked. His magical shield lowered, spears of mercury dissolving.
Still wearing Teris’ form, Abril struggled against magical bindings. “You leave Kirsch and my Intended’s brother alone!”
“That’s not the real one.” Galleo told his comrades.
The one holding Abril shoved her to the ground in disappointed disgust.
Fanzell dropped onto the scene, the whirlwind that brought him dissipating. Knowing the one he faced had been the real Teris by the light magic she had used, Fanzell ignored the bound woman his subordinate had pushed away, and took in the two other hostages. He didn’t like that innocent children had been brought into the mix and threatened. But now that it was done he had little choice other than to use it.
Ignoring the stinging cuts and gashes the flock of attacking birds had left, Fanzell gave the Spatial Mage a directive look through eyes made red and swollen from his broken nose. “Galleo.”
The man opened up a portal.
Fanzell turned to the real Teris. “Step through and I promise these two will be left unharmed.”
“Your promise means nothing to me.” Teris sneered.
“Brother!” Solid called, frantic eyes full of fear.
“It’s alright. Stay calm and quiet.” Nozel soothed. He looked at Teris. There was no way he was going to ask her to submit to the Magic Warriors commands; but these people had his younger brother and were threatening his life.
Teris glanced at Kirsch and Solid. Even if Kirsch wasn’t an extremely distant cousin or Solid Nozel’s brother, she would have submitted to protect them. She was a Magic Knight. The lives and well being of the Clover Kingdoms citizenry went before her own.
The tension in Fanzell’s shoulders eased when he saw Teris’ shoulders sag in defeat.
“Fine. But you and the rest of your squad of Magic Warriors have to leave the Clover Kingdom without harming another person.” Teris relented.
“No! I’m Teris Nova.” Abril shouted.
“Enough.” Teris ordered.
Abril fell silent, wide eyes stinging with tears at her worry and failure.
Teris turned to Fanzell.
“You have my word.” Fanzell swore.
Teris sighed. She didn’t know what the Commander’s word was good for; but it was all she had. Giving one last look at Abril, she ordered. “Don’t struggle or fight unless they break their promise.”
“Step through the portal.” Fanzell told Teris, eager to see his mission complete and his squad safely out of the Clover Kingdom.
Teris moved as slowly as she dared, hoping that someone had gotten through the communications block and assistance would appear.
The mage holding Solid by the throat squeezed causing the young royal to gurgle.
“Solid!” Nozel took a step toward his brother.
Fanzell made a noise of warning halting Nozel in his tracks. He scowled at his fellow Magic Warrior for choking the young innocent but turned the expression on Teris and instructed. “Hurry it up.”
Nozel glanced at the open portal and Teris, gauging the distance. Turning back to his brother, he told. “It’ll be alright, Solid. Just stay put. Don’t do anything. Listen to Abril until they leave and help arrives.”
Finding Nozel’s words curious, Fanzell turned to him. But he was too slow. Teris had just stepped through the portal and Galleo had begun to close it. Fanzell’s muscles tensed as the Silver Eagle rushed toward him. But the Magic Knight had no interest in him. Instead, Nozel sprinted passed him and dived through the closing portal.
Fanzell blinked at the portion of the mans royal blue cloak that laid on the ground where the portal had been. If Nozel had acted a split second latter he would have been cut in half.
“Brother!” Solid yelled, hand outstretched.
“Damn it! I’m sorry, Commander. Shall I open it back up and pull him out?” Galleo asked Fanzell.
Jaw tense, Fanzell tore his eyes away from the blue fabric. So much for a seamless mission. Not wanting to stay longer than necessary and chance facing further hostility, he told Galleo. “No. Inform the other teams we have our prey and get us out of here.”
“Sir.” Galleo nodded.
Fanzell looked back at the sliced off strip of fabric thinking that the Magic Knights were a loyal and amazing group. It made him wistfully envious. He doubted there was a single Magic Warrior that would take such a risk for one of their fellows.
“The teams are falling back and headed to the meeting point.” Galleo informed his superior.
“Good.” Fanzell bent and picked up the blue fabric, wrapping it around his hand.
“What of these three?” The Mage holding Solid and Kirsch asked.
“Bind the boys. We’ll leave them and the Magic Knight to be found.” Fanzell said.
The Mage gripped Solid and Kirsch tighter. “But, Sir--”
Voice dangerous, Fanzell looked at the man. “I gave my word. You’re not suggesting I go back on it out of sheer malice, are you?”
The Mage straightened. “No, sir.” He shared a look with Galleo the two thinking that the rumors were true. Their Commander had begun to weaken.
Fanzell stepped in front of Abril. “I need you to listen and relay a message to your superiors.”
“You give her back!” Abril yelled.
Fanzell used his magic to take just enough air out of Abril’s lungs so she couldn’t speak but was still cognizant. “Tell your superiors not to come for Teris Nova unless they want another war. You will have your Magic Knight—s,” He drew out the added ‘s’ of the amended plural, “back by the morning of the twelfth. If you cross the border into our kingdom, King Morris will not broker a peace as he did last time. He will not stop until your kingdom is purged of life and left in nothing but rubble and ash.” He saw the fearful turn in the her eyes, and felt the same at such a prospect. “Remember. The morning of the twelfth. My King just wants some time with Teris Nova to understand how she works. It is up to your kingdom to decide whether that is worthy of war or if you will keep the peace and wait four days.”
101.4
“Are you really that tired, Yami?” Jack taunted sending out a slash that sent the Black Bulls Vice Captain skidding backwards several meters.
“Hardly.” Yami grunted.
“He’s toying with you, Jack.” Tobin called, from the sidelines.
“More like letting you get a couple shots in as apology for the beat down you’re gonna get.” Yami corrected.
“Quit pretending your doing me any favors Bull Brains.” Jack cawed sending out two more strikes. “You’re faltering and trying to cover.”
“If I were faltering would I be able to do this?” Both hands gripping the hilt of his katana, Yami sent down a slash of darkness that had the Green Mantis leaping out of the way.
Rolling on the ground, Jack squinted at the kicked up dirt. He looked back to see downed trees and branches for more than six hundred meters.
Tobin stepped forward, worried Yami had lost himself to the Darkness.
Gendry’s head jerked back, eyes wide. Was that what he would be facing every other Monday? He knew Yami was powerful, but to send an attack like that during a simple sparring session…
Yami half lept, half rushed to his opponent and pointed his dark cloaked katana at Jack’s chest. “You were saying?”
Jack looked up at the Black Bull and cackled. “You’re insane!”
Yami lifted and sheathed the katana in its scabbard. “Thought your bony butt would appreciate that move.”
Jack pushed to his feet. “Let’s try it again!”
“No.” Yami shook his head.
Jack lifted his forearm, the magical scythe-like blade pointing at Yami’s neck. “Try it again or I slice you up.”
“You’re both insane!” Tobin declared, making his way onto the field. “Jack. Stand down.”
Sounding bored despite the magical weapon at his throat, Yami waved Tobin off. “Let him be. Beanstalk’s just embarrassed he lost.” He met Jack’s eye, all but daring the man to make a move and prove him wrong.
Jack cackled again and lowered his arm. “You act all tough, but one day I’ll slice you up, Yami. Only I want you to be at your best when I do.”
Yami made a derisive noise. “Yeah, yeah. Keep saying that—Jack.” Yami’s tone changed as he said the name. His right hand reached, gripping the hilt of his katana. “Don’t stand down.”
Jack’s eyes turned to Yami’s right hand, thinking the Black Bull decided to continue the fight. “What? You--”
Yami pulled the katana free. “A large group just appeared.”
“It’s probably some fellow Green Mantis’. En and Nix are expected back from a mission.” Jack said.
“No.” Yami said.
The Ki Yami suddenly sensed was far too near. These people hadn’t walked or flown closer; but simply appeared as if portaled. Never mind the fact that one of the mana sources coming from the group was massively powerful. There was no way the person was a member of the Green Mantis, not even the squads Captain.
“It’s Alowishus.” Yami cloaked his blade in darkness.
Alowishus Spade rose up out of the ground. Yami sent out several consecutive slashes which were blocked by a swirling mass of earth.
“Quick on the attack.” Alowishus praised, noting how fast Yami’s movements had become. “Not exactly the act of a hero though.”
“I’m no hero. I’m a Magic Knight Vice Captain and you’re a threat to this kingdom. Jack, with me. You two. Give the others a harsh welcome.” Yami told Tobin and Gendry.
“The others?” Tobin echoed. His face hardened at the sight of five others appearing through the overgrown tree line. “Right.” His size doubled as he stepped in the Agents of Chaos’ direction. “Gendry. Let’s go.”
“They want Yami. We should focus on getting him out of here.” Gendry said, glancing at his Vice Captain as Yami and Jack charged and attacked Alowishus.
“And how do you suggest we do that without taking out some of their number?” Tobin snapped. “Don’t question the Vice Captain's orders! He’s not Bronn. Yami will do more than have words or a well placed fist if you disobey.”
Yami and Jack tag teamed. One getting in close while the other made an opening. Still it wasn’t enough. Alowishus was just too strong. Yami shot a quick glance seeing Tobin and Gendry struggling and cursed. He should have known better than to think the four of them had a chance. The Negation Mage, Calen, was nowhere in sight meaning that Alowishus was secure in his victory and merely toying with them. That only served to make Yami angrier, his grip tightening on his katana’s hilt. Exhaling, Yami forced his hands to loosen letting the rage filled emotion flow through him. Acknowledging his anger while not focusing on it cleared his mind and centered his thoughts, emboldening his movements with decisive determination.
“Your getting your way, Jack!” Yami lept back, trading places with the Green Mantis. He planted his feet, gripping the katana’s hilt in both hands and raising it over his head. “Let’s try it again!” He repeated Jack’s earlier words right before he brought the dark cloaked blade down.
Jack, who had been in front of Alowishus, between him and Yami, lept to the side at the last moment. Despite being cloaked in mana the Green Mantis was dragged back a bit by the gravitational pull of the dark slash. Then blown out and away as Yami’s attack hit. Jack tucked his arms and tumbled, rolling up to his knees and skidding to a halt.
Seeing the devastation and power of the attack, Jack silently cursed; Yami must’ve just been funning with him in that first dark slash. Wait for me, you over muscled idiot, Jack thought. Don’t leave me in your shadow. I’ll rip you to shreds if you do.
“Master!” The Agents of Chaos yelled.
Yami didn’t even pause to take in the damage he might have caused Alowishus. He spun around to Tobin and Gendry, and commanded. “Tobin, go get back up. Gendry, to me.”
Tobin turned and sprinted away before Yami had even begun to say Gendry's name.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Misandre roared. She created a portal, hands reaching through the open gateway.
Tobin didn’t slow, trusting his comrades to protect his back.
Snarling, Yami sent out a slice of darkness that cut Misandre’s hands off so fast and clean it took the woman several heartbeats to realize what had happened. The hands, once belonging to Bronn, dropped to the ground, never reaching Tobin.
Glaring at the Spatial Mage, Yami growled. “Told you I would have those off you. Now, I can be done with that bastard and he can rest in peace.”
“Yami...” Gendry breathed, face losing color.
Yami turned in the direction Gendry was staring, his own eyes widening. Now that just wasn’t fair, Yami silently complained.
Jack moved closer to the two Black Bulls. “What is he? An earth mage or something.”
Or something, Yami thought watching the earth swirl and condense to form an arm, replacing the one Yami’s massive dark strike had taken from Alowishus.
“Ash to ash. Dirt to dirt.” Alowishus intoned, stepping out of the spiraling earth as it dissipated and fell. “The moral form is nothing but earth, and to the earth our weary husks eventually return.”
The solid ground the three Magic Knights were standing on became sinkhole. Before they could do anything, they were trapped up to their mid-thighs and stuck.
“You have your late Vice Captain's hands back, Yami. Now further prove your honor and come with me so your friends may be spared.” Alowishus stopped several paces in front of him. “You need my help, my boy. You won’t make it to the Ritual of Darkness without it.”
“I’m not your anything.” Yami sneered. He sent out three quick, successive dark cloaked strikes.
Alowishus held up a hand. The dark slashes stopped and hovered. Frozen still for a moment before they broke apart crumbling and fading to nothing.
Alowishus shook his head and sighed. “Difficult child. Come with me or your friends die.”
“Why not just take me by force? You’ve done it before. Could it be you’re afraid to awaken what’s inside me?” Yami asked, feeling the Dark force begin to stir.
“You may not be the cleverest, Yami. But you are a smart one. Do you truly think I fear you?” Alowishus asked, well aware Tobin had almost reached the Green Mantis’ base.
“Probably not, but you should.” Yami said.
“Master.” Clint called. “Misandre is losing a lot of blood despite Slade’s bindings. If she’s to be able to get us out of here, we must leave.”
“Then leave.” Alowishus snapped.
“Master! We can’t leave you!” Clint expressed, face full of concern.
“Return to Sanctuary and await my arrival as you were told. I will tend to Misandre after my return. Till then she will simply have to endure.” Alowishus looked at his followers. “Now.”
Reluctantly, Misandre opened a portal. The gateway took a couple seconds to form and was slow to expand large enough for a person to fit through.
Yami couldn’t help a perverse smirk of achievement at seeing the Spatial Mages difficulty in creating something that should have been as easy as taking a step or any other function that occurred by mere will.
“You enjoyed that.” Alowishus commented, watching Yami. “My followers hardship.”
Yami eyes snapped back to Alowishus. “With the amount of hardship she and the rest of you have put us through, it’s about time you got some in return. I’m not going with you, by the way. So you can crumble to dust and die.”
Alowishus frowned. “Why must you make things so difficult, my boy?”
“I already told you. I’m not your anythi—oui!” Yami snapped, Jack and Gendry's muffled gags stealing his attention.
Dirt gathered and rose up from the ground, entering Jack and Gendry's mouths and nostrils. The two coughed and gagged. But it was no use, the invading earth was choking the life out of them.
“Stop it!” Yami barked. He tried to pull his legs free but the ground held firm. He swiped at the swirling mass as it entered Jack, but the mass only reformed and continued to obey Alowishus’ will.
“Can’t you see that I am only trying to help you?” Alowishus asked, tone wounded and sympathetic. “If you go on like this, you will lose yourself to the Darkness inside.”
Yami glared murderously at Alowishus. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Eventually.” Alowishus admitted. “Right now, we both want the same thing. For you to fight this force off and remain yourself.”
Yami’s eyes flicked black. Gritting his teeth he battle down the Darkness about to boil over. “Let them go.”
“Will you come?” Alowishus asked.
Yami saw Gendry's eyes roll and begin to glaze. “Fine!” He yelled. “You have my word. Now let them go!”
With a victorious grin, Alowishus lifted his hand, palm up. His fingers curled one after the other in a beckoning motion.
Yami watched the earth change its course and fly out of his friends lungs. Jack and Gendry sagged, gasping and coughing.
“Let’s go.” Alowishus smiled.
Before Yami could say or do anything, he was swallowed up by the ground.
101.5
In the quietness after Nozel and Teris’ argument the Silver Eagle had difficulty meeting Teris’ hard, angry glare.
Once they had figured out they had been portaled to a mana blocked cell with no means of escape, Teris had chewed Nozel out. In her fear for Nozel, Teris had called out his stupidity in following her through a closing portal. Her concern for her friends, and worry over Fanzell keeping his word had her chastising Nozel for his lack of care in his duty to protect the citizens of the kingdom.
Nozel naturally snapped back. No one questioned his dedication to his duty. His brooding emotions over what he had walked in on three days ago, the image of Yami and Teris still haunting his mind, had Nozel responding harsher than intended.
Surprised by his vehemence but not one to back down, Teris had snapped back at him. A heated argument had devolved from there. When Nozel called out her hypocrisy, saying she would’ve done the same in his place, Teris had changed tactics.
Teris had been glaring daggers at him for what felt like forever, though realistically Nozel knew it couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes. Much as Nozel hated being scolded like some child, Teris’ silent treatment was so much worse; leading him to ask. “What would you have had me do? Let you to come here alone?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I would have had you do!” Teris expressed. Her eyes drifted to the missing part of Nozel’s squad cloak for the thousandth time, her fear and anger at his foolishness reigniting.
“It’s always the same with you, isn’t it?” Nozel complained.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” Teris questioned, heatedly.
“You’re always judging me more harshly than anyone else. As if I’m suppose to be some perfect person.”
“You’re the one who constantly presents yourself as a perfect person.” Teris accused.
Nozel sighed, this was getting them nowhere. He looked about the cell, unable to look at Teris any longer. “So what do we do now?”
“Why ask me? What was it you said? Your Captain's on the scene therefore your orders superseded mine.”
Nozel glowered and muttered under his breath. “Ill tempered, hot headed brat.”
“What’s that?” Teris asked, not having heard.
“I said you’re an ill tempered, hot headed brat!” Nozel snapped.
“If that’s how you feel then why did you follow?” Fanzell questioned, from the other side of the cell door.
Teris and Nozel turned to the Magic Warrior, neither having noticed his appearance in the heat of their argument.
“It sure would have saved us some trouble if you had stayed behind.” Fanzell went on, thinking of the discipline he would endure for letting the Silva Prince throw himself into custody; as if he had known at the time that the young man was heir to the Clover Kingdoms second royal House.
“If you’re looking for an apology for your troubles look elsewhere. You’re not getting one from us.” Teris told.
“Figured as much. Ill tempered, hot headed brat that you are.” Fanzell teased.
“Only he gets to call me that.” Teris said, head tilting toward Nozel.
“Who? Your Prince?” Seeing the Magic Knights expressions, Fanzell nodded. “Yeah. I know who you are... I do now.” He mumbled.
“Then you know they will come for me.” Nozel said.
“For both our kingdoms sake's, I hope not. I hope those two kids and the Magic Knight that was trying to pass as you,” Fanzell inclined his head toward Teris, “relayed the message I gave, and your superiors believe and heed and my words.”
“What words were those?” Teris asked.
“That you will be released and returned on the twelfth.” Fanzell answered.
“You lie.” Nozel challenged.
Fanzell’s eyes hardened. “My King, unlike yours, doesn’t posture and lie.”
Teris wanted to ask about Yami but was afraid to. As if bringing him up would remind their captors of his existence and endanger him. She couldn’t sense Yami’s mana and hoped it was an effect of the spell put on the mana blocked cell.
“What is it you want?” Teris asked.
“That I don’t know.” Fanzell said, thinking he didn’t want to know either.
There were things going on in the Diamond Kingdom. Rumors. Whispers like the barest of breaths and breezes. Things that hinted at augmented magic and mutilated grimoires. Of groups of kids taken from the training grounds and never seen or heard of again. To all this Fanzell turned a blind eye and deaf ear, not wanting to know even a hint of what might be going on. His soul was tormented enough as it was.
“It doesn’t matter what threats you gave. They will come.” Nozel said.
“That’s what King Morris believes as well.” Another voice said from down the hall.
Fanzell stepped back from the cell door and turned. “Lotus. What is this?”
“Sorry, Commander.” Lotus apologized, expression truly sorrowful. “We’ve been told that His Majesty has decided to send the Prince back.”
Fanzell looked from Lotus to Galleo who walked behind the Smoke Mage. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”
“Why indeed?” Galleo responded with a disapproving stare of accusation at Fanzell.
Fanzell swallowed, throat bobbing. There was only one reason why his superiors would skip informing him when he had just come from their offices. The open display of lack in faith was chilling.
Fanzell cleared his throat. “If you have orders, I suggest you carry them out.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Nozel told, voice commanding in its volume and timber.
“You don’t have a choice, little Prince.” Galleo smirked, clearly enjoying carrying out his commands.
“Morris doesn’t want a war. He merely wants the girl.” Lotus said.
It was difficult for Fanzell to tell, but it appeared as though Lotus didn’t care for this any more than he did. Then again it could simply be Lotus’ usual tired lack of interest in anything. It was hard to say.
“You can’t have her.” Nozel told, positioning himself in front of Teris.
Fanzell noticed the way Teris merely stood by, appearing to have already accepted her fate.
“We already do have her.” Galleo taunted. “It’s you we no longer want. Didn’t and shouldn’t have had you in the first place.” Though it had been his portal the young royal had jumped through, he cast an accusatory glance at Fanzell.
“Morris has been told that with just one of you taken, your King Agustus and Wizard King will wait until the twelfth to act, in hopes of staving off a war.” Lotus said.
“Told by who?” Nozel questioned.
“Especially if we give back the heir to House Silva.” Galleo put in.
“I want to know who told King Morris that.” Nozel demanded.
“You will be portaled back to the gates of your Castle City. Unharmed.” Lotus said, turning to Galleo at the final word as if to remind the man.
Seeing Lotus step near the cell door, Nozel readied his stance. “Good luck with that. The moment you open that door the mana block on this cell breaks and your--”
Teris placed a hand on Nozel’s shoulder causing him to fall silent. He glanced back at her.
At her sad expression, Nozel questioned. “Why are you looking at me like that? We’re getting out of here. Just don’t kill or knock out the Spatial Mage. We need him to get us home.”
Teris hugged him, tightly.
Nozel was so shocked that he remained still and speechless.
“Tell Yami, Julius, and the Bulls not to do anything stupid.” Teris breathed against his ear.
Nozel felt her give a humorless smile.
“At least not until they’ve clearly broken their word about returning me.” Teris pulled away and meet his eyes. “Then, if you want, you can do all the stupid things you wish to get me out of here.”
Nozel stared at her in confusion. “Teris. I’m not leaving yo--”
“It’s not your fault.” Teris said over his words. “You did all you could. Going so far as to jump through a closing portal. Stupid as it was. Thank you.”
“Teris. It’s not over--”
Teris placed her fingers to Nozel’s lips, silencing him. “I don’t want to be the cause of a war. If you stay and get injured or killed while we’re trying to break free, there will be one. House Silva’s pride will demand it.” Nozel gripped her wrist, tearing her tender fingers from his lips. “I’m not doing this with you right now! Get ready to fight! That’s an order.”
He turned around to face the three Magic Warriors. It was then that he remembered a magic blocked cell didn’t necessarily block outside magic from entering.
Teris stepped back.
Nozel’s head snapped back around to her, hand outstretched. “Teris!”
Nozel disappeared, swallowed by Galleo’s portal. Teris’ eyes squeezed shut, willing herself not to cry. Her trembling lips pressed together. As fearfully angry as she had been at Nozel for his thoughtless action in following her; she had been selfishly grateful not to be alone.
“You’re a brave one.” Lotus remarked. “I wonder how I might’ve fared at the Battle at the Boarder if faced against you and not your counterpart.”
Thinking she was anything but brave, Teris asked. “You’re not after him. Are you?”
“Yami?” Lotus questioned. “Our only orders were to capture you, little miss. Now, if you don’t mind.” He dangled a spelled cuff that blocked magical transport. “Put your hand through the bars.”
I’ll be recovering from my monthly infusion of “poison juice” this week, so if you wanna make a blah week brighter and bring a smile to my face I’d appreciate some feedback. Thanks!
Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot. Also, I’ll be taking a week off.
Next chapter snippet:
Tears prickled Teris’ eyes. Her entire body felt as if it were engulfed in Wild Fire. The palm of her hand so hot and seared that it was incapable of feeling anything. Anything other than constant dull burning pain with the occasional sharp, gut wrenching stab that kept her mind from being able to tune it out.
#yami sukehiro#nozel silva#fanzell kruger#jack the ripper#solid silva#lotus whomalt#kirsch vermillion#Black Clover#light in the darkness
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Struggling Chapter 4
Characters: Jay Halstead, Hank Voight, Antonio Dawson
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k+
Chapter Warnings: Fluff, Swearing
Series Masterlist
“Sgt. Voight, do you know where you are?” As you blink away the sleep away from your eyes, a man in his late 40s stood at the end of the bed in a pair of scrubs which meant one thing.
“Hospital.” Your voice came out rough from dehydration. You glanced around the room to see that there were no decorations at all except for the TV that hung from the ceiling and a window that out looked the courtyard. The room as an undertone of bleach and the floor is simply grey.
“You’re at Landstuhl Reginal Medical Center in Germany.” Germany? How long have been out for? The last thing you remember was being found by your team and being taken back to base and the rest was a blur. “You’ve been out for about a day. You lost a lot of blood. They were able to stable you in the field long enough until you got here.”
“What happened?” Pain radiates through your body as you slightly moved which was a mistake. It feels like someone had ripped your insides into pieces. You remember the kidnappers ambushing your unit and taking you to get answers about military weapons. They started off using you as a punching bag and when they couldn’t get answers out of you, they started bargaining your life for information.
“You suffered some internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, a broken wrist, two gunshot wounds, and 3 broken ribs.” You looked down at your left wrist to see it wrapped in a cast and hanging in a sling for support. “It’s going to be a long recovery. At least 4 weeks here at the hospital, before you can even get on a plane to finish your recovery in the states.” Tears welled in your eyes as you stared out the nearby window having flashbacks of what happened to you. Once the doctor slipped out of the room, you closed your eyes as you let out a sob.
“Earth to Y/N.” You snapped out of your daydream when Antonio spoke up from the driver’s seat. As you looked at Antonio, you could see the concerned look at his face.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Everything okay?” Antonio pulled up to a red light before looking at you again.
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t get that much sleep last night.” You stared back out the window as the light turn green and Antonio drove back to the district. The two of you talk about how Ava and Diego were doing then when on to talk about the recent case you the team was working on. Once the two of you returned to the district, you climbed out of the car and started walked back in when Antonio lightly grabbed your elbow and spun you around.
“Okay, I pulled the concerned partner card and that didn’t work but now pulling the best friend card. What’s going on?” You took a deep breath before looking up at Antonio and you knew he wasn’t going to stop asking.
“Being kidnapped just brought up some memories of stuff that happened to me overseas. It’s just something I don’t like talking or thinking about because then it triggers my PTSD and I’ve worked this hard and I don’t want to relapse.” Antonio knew that you had suffered from PTSD in the past, but as you said, you don’t talk about it, so he doesn’t know the details.
“I know that you went through some stuff overseas and you don’t like talking about it and that’s fine. I respect that, but if you ever change your mind, you know I’m here.” You may never be ready to talk about with someone other than your therapist, but your thankful that you have Antonio in case you ever changed your mind. Without hesitation, you gave him a quick hug and before you could pull away Antonio kissed the top of your head.
As you walked over to your desk, you glanced over at Jay’s desk to see that it looked untouched which meant Jay hasn’t returned from his undercover gig. Jay was sent undercover two weeks ago and the only contact you had from him was when he checked in with Hank. This time it was different because the two of you left things up in the air and never got the chance to talk about things between the two of you. Sitting at your desk, Hank walked out of his office with a frustrated look on his face which means that he wasn’t too happy about the progress of the case.
“Did we find this guy yet?” Hank pointed to a photo of a man in his middle 30s with a rap sheet that ran a mile long that included armed robbery, possession of narcotics, and assault and battery.
“No, I and Antonio went to his place it looked like no one been there for weeks.” You sipped on your coffee as Antonio describe the state of Matthew Miller’s apartment.
“We did find empty bottles of narcotics but nothing that links him to the robbery.” Antonio sat on the edge of your desk with his arms across his chest.
“Guys I just got a hit on Millers' former cellmate and he was just released from prison 6 months ago and guess what he was in for?” Adam stood up from his desk to grab the papers he printed off.
“Let me guess, armed robbery?” You spoke up as Adam walked over to the board and taped up a photo of a male in his early 40s.
“Meet Samuel Conner. He was severing a 10yr sentence for armed robbery and was just released 6months ago.”
“We got an address for this guy?” Hank looked over at Adam who was standing slightly off to the side next to the board. Just as Adam was about to speak up, a call came in over the radio alerting the team that there was another robbery in progress. They gathered their stuff and headed out to the scene.
You were sitting at the bar top at Molly’s drinking a beer checking your phone every few minutes. “I didn’t think you would be here.” You looked up to see your father taking a seat next to you.
“And where would I be?” You sipped your beer as he ordered himself a drink.
“You know since you were born, you were always the quiet one. Kept to yourself and when you came back from the states and went through what you went through. I was worried about and sometimes I am still am.” Your father took a sip of his drink before turning slightly to face you.
“Where is this going dad?”
“I just want you to be happy again and if that means I have to break my own rules to make my daughter happy then I will do it.” You looked at him with a confused look because you had no idea where this was going. “Jay’s undercover gig is over. He returned to the district after you left. I told him his paperwork could wait till Monday.”
“He’s back?” You picked up your phone to see if you had gotten anything from Jay, but disappointment washed over you when you saw nothing.
“Go.” Your dad reached over and squeezed your hand. You hesitated for a moment, but then again you wanted to see Jay and talk about things. Standing up from your stool, you tossed some money on the counter before giving him a quick hug and disappeared out of the bar.
As you climbed into your car, you threw the car in park and headed in the direction of Jay’s apartment. As you drove, your heart was beating a hundred miles an hour and it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. Once you came to a stop at a red light, a million thoughts ran through your head like; why didn’t he call? Did he not want to see you? Did he regret what was everything that happens between you two? Taking a deep breath, you pushed back all those thoughts away and continued to drive in the direction of Jay’s apartment. As you pulled to the complex, you closed your eyes and gathered yourself before climbing out of your car. Walking through the door to the complex, you headed up the stairs to the second and as you walked to the end of the hall you came to a stop outside of Jay’s door and softly knocked.
No more than 30seconds later the door swung open to see Jay. “Y/N what are you doing here?”
“Hank told me that your undercover gig was over and to be honest I wanted to see you.” A smile formed on his face as stood their leaning slight against the door. “You didn’t call so I just got in my car and drove not thinking and now that I think about it you probably didn’t call me because you didn’t-”
“I wanted to call you, but when I got back to the district Voight said that you were gone for the night, so I assume you had called it a night. I was going to call you first thing in the morning.” Jay pushed himself off the door and stepped aside for you to come in.
“Oh.” You stepped through the threshold to Jay’s apartment. “Jay I hm-” you stopped mid-sentence when you suddenly were lost for words.
You turned around and instantly locked eye with Jay and every fiber in your body was telling you to make a move, but something was holding you back. “Y/N, I missed you. You don’t know how hard it was for me not to call you every chance I could and-” without even realizing it, you grabbed hold of his face and you collide your lips with his.
The kiss was soft yet tender. As the kiss grew more intense, you realized that you missed his lips against yours, and for the first time in a long time you felt something for someone. Just as Jay wrapped his arms around your lower back pulling you closer to him, he let out a small wince causing you to pull away. “What’s wrong?” You looked at him with concern.
“It’s nothing. I just got a couple of bruised ribs.” As you removed your hands from his face, you took a step back giving you room to lift his shirt. Once you lifted his shirt, it revealed the right side of his abdomen was covered in purple with yellow blotches and you lightly ran the tips of your finger over the purple skin.
“You should have said something before I attacked you.” You examined the bruise as if you were a doctor that was diagnosing the problem.
“It’s worth the pain.” Jay placed two fingers underneath your chin forcing you to look up at him. You opened your mouth to say something but was cut off by Jay’s soft lips against yours. Jay licked the seem of your lips wanted to access and without hesitation, you opened for him. You wrapped your one arm around his shoulders while the other one rested on his upper bicep pulling him closer to you. Jay didn’t care that he was in some pain all he cared about was how much he missed you and wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to push things too fast with you.
After a few minutes, you slightly pulled away to catch your breath and locked eyes with Jay. “You own me a dinner.” You whispered against his lips.
“How does tomorrow night work for you?” Jay tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’ll have to check my schedule.” You smirked earning another kiss from Jay. “Oh, look at that. I’m free.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Okay, that is the last time you pick the movie.” You walked through the threshold of your apartment with Jay close behind you.
“Hey, it’s not my fault. The trailer looked good and it had great reviews.” Jay took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack before following you into the kitchen where you were grabbing to beers from the fridge.
“This is the second movie that you picked that turned out horrible.” You opened the beer before handing it to Jay, who was standing next to you. “I think we should agree that I should pick the movies from now on.”
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you.” You sipped your beer as you leaned against the countertop.
“Oh, this should be interesting.” Pushing yourself away from the counter, you hopped on top of the counter as Jay made his way around the counter coming to a stop in front of you.
“Just hear me out.” Jay set his beer on the counter before placing his hands on your thighs and slightly spreading them open. Standing between your legs, his hands traveled up your legs and landed on your waist.
“Okay, I’m listening,” you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“I’ll let you pick the movies if you let me take you out of town this weekend.” You were stunned that Jay was asking you to spend the weekend with him out of town. “A buddy of mine from the Army is getting married in Ohio and he invited me and a plus one.”
You and Jay have been dating for a little over 4months and things have been going great. You never thought that you would be where you are today. You never thought that you would be able to find someone after Ryan died, but you did, and you think you were fallen in love again. “I haven’t been on a road trip in years and I’ve never been to Ohio.”
“So, I take that as a yes?” Jay looked at you with hope in his eyes.
You removed your arms from his neck so that you could reach up and frame his face with your hands. “That’s a definite yes.”
The slow music spread around both you and Jay as you rested your head on his chest. As Jay swayed the two of you on the dance floor, you started to reflect on your relationship with Jay. Falling in love with Jay was not planned. You were supposed to be just coworkers but of course, the universe had other plans for you. Being here with Jay at this wedding just made you realize that you were completely and utterly in love with Jay Halstead and you never thought you would find love again after Ryan. Slightly pulling away, you looked up at Jay and the next thing you knew, you slammed your lips to his and it nearly knocked all the wind from his lungs.
After a moment, Jay pulled away to catch his breath. “What was that for?”
“The last 4months with you have been amazing and for the first time in two years I’m happy and it’s because of you. I never thought that I would be able to find someone else after Ryan.” The two of you moved off the dance floor and stood off to the side. “For so long I was struggling to put myself together and who knew that you were the one to help me put myself back together.”
“I am completely in love with you, Jay.” As those words slipped your mouth, you feared that Jay wouldn’t feel the same way or that it was too soon for you to share those words with each other but you needed Jay you know what you were feeling.
“Y/N,” Jay reached over and moved a piece of hair behind your ear. “You mean the worlds to me and these last few months have been incredible. You are amazing, smart, beautiful, and a million other things which are all the reasons why I fell in love with you.” Jay cupped your face with both hands before pulling you in for a kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you, it always felt like the first time. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. The moment the two of you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against his, “let’s go back to the hotel.”
You nodded your head while biting your bottom lip. “Okay.”
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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 23 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)
Chapter 23: A Beating Heart
AO3 Link
Previous Chapters: 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
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“Are you feeling better?” Geten’s head whirled around at the unexpected question to break the silence. Dabi was trailing behind with his hands in his pockets, glancing around.
“Chest hurts less and I can walk without limping. So the answer would be yes,” She said. After a pause, she continued, “What about your injury?”
“Good.”
“That’s...good to know,” She responded, relieved that she was at the front so Dabi couldn’t see her heated face. How was she to respond to that? It was the first time that she asked someone about their condition, or was even concerned about them.
She only quickened her pace back to the hotel, hoping to start talking about the more important matters at hand that had been on her mind for the past few days.
“Wait, we’re going to your place? You still live at that hotel?” Dabi seemed to recognise the street that lead back to the temporary lodgings in the aftermath of the first Resurrection Festival.
“Yes, although I haven’t actually returned there in a while because of everything that has happened.”
“Why haven’t you moved back to the mansion?”
She tensed up. So much had happened that she forgot the lurking threats within the PLF. Takame was unanticipated. Skeptic, Trumpet and possibly Yotsubashi seemed to be watching her, identifying her as a rogue weed in the garden. Trumpet in particular made his intentions clear when he held her at gunpoint.
Then a thought came to her like a silent blizzard. Why wouldn’t her room be under Skeptic’s gaze? Suddenly the Deika City Hotel looked darker under the night sky.
“Actually, can we go there instead? You live in one of the rooms, right?” She halted, her eyes darting around to see the numerous street cameras, functioning both to catch speeding vehicles and as Chikazoku’s mechanical eyes.
Dabi bristled, but he followed her gaze to also notice how exposed they were.
“So you’re that paranoid, huh?” He whispered. “How much of a threat is he?”
“I don’t wish to take any chances.”
Dabi gestured for her to follow, walking back the way they came. He said nothing until they reached the gates, and a nauseating feeling arose in Geten’s gut, crawling up her spine like a centipede, reaching her head. The sight of Re-destro’s inheritance triggered this, along with more memories.
In the centre of the courtyard where the two were striding across, Geten watched a team of construction workers assemble a statue of Shigaraki. In its place was once a similar statue of Re-destro. She had a feeling the Grand Commander could not care less about useless monuments built to honour him, but the idea was, now that she thought about it, definitely Yotsubashi’s.
The statue was intimidating, portraying Shigaraki with all his disembodied hands, sitting atop his throne in a lanky manner, his elbow on the armrest and his face resting on his fist. She could not see his eyes; the statue was erected using black marble, compared to the gold sheen of the predecessor’s. The contrast in colour, alongside Shigaraki’s emotionless expression here made the hairs on her skin rise. She quickened her pace after Dabi.
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“Okay. Now, spill.” Dabi relaxed on one of the armchairs, while Geten sat on the sofa. His room was unusually clean, until Geten remembered that there were servants to help with the housekeeping. She doubted the man in front of her would even make his own bed, but to be fair, neither did she.
She paused, picking her words carefully. She had so much to say, she found it difficult to start.
“You were right,” She blurted out.
“You’re welcome,” He replied, “About what?”
“The Liberation Army. I understand what you mean now.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “About time.” He sounded like he meant it, and the smile looked as if he was truly glad for her. It was only a biting feeling; Geten was surprised how she surmised it at all. Dabi expressing genuine happiness at something was unorthodox, to say the least.
“So…” Dabi tapped his chin. “That means you’re not going for the Festival. Fine by me.”
Geten froze. She wanted to say that. She needed to say more than that. To verbally express her anger, her pain, her betrayal at the PLF. A burning desire had arisen in her throat at the notion of declaring how the Festival was a totem of everything she despised about the Front, and she wished to burn it in effigy.
But instead Dabi incinerated all of that to ashes, and the ashes wrote, That means you’re not going for the Festival. He surely had his own manner of expressions.
Sometimes she forgot how perceptive he was, like when he understood her reasons for not abandoning the Takame assignment, without her even saying much. But his qualities ended before empathy. Then again, she figured she possessed little amounts of it too.
“Yes,” She said. “Which brings me to what you’re doing next Monday.”
He bristled, silent for a while in possible contemplation. He opened his mouth a few times before closing them. Finally, he sighed and said, “It’s another assignment Shigaraki put me up to. An escort mission for that guy you saw me with.”
“I’ll come with you, then.”
“S’cuse me?” Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Since when could you just budge into anything you want?”
“Well, I did it the last time.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he deadpanned. “That will be the last time.”
Geten allowed herself to scowl at his snark. “Come on, I’d have nothing to do. I can watch your back, at least.”
Dabi eyed her for a while, his expression reeking of annoyance.
“Fine. There’s really no arguing with you.”
Geten shot a glare at him, but before she could retort, Dabi added, “Come to think of it, now that you’ve stopped following all that bullshit liberation crap, why are you still here? Why not just pack your bags and leave this place?”
She blinked. That question had been on the back of her mind ever since she picked up Destro’s book and threw it, but she had never given it thought. It was as if she knew the answer, but never verbalised nor phrased it in her mind.
“I suppose...there are many reasons,” She said. “Leaving the PLF would raise many alarms within. I’d be considered a traitor and hunted by them forever. Their influence is still to be respected and feared. Japan as a whole is polluted with soldiers following the ideology. Another is Shigaraki.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke the Grand Commander’s name. “I’ll admit that I’m fearful of him. I can’t say the same for you, I suppose.”
She took a deep breath. “Lastly, I think it’s because of you. I respect you as a colleague and fellow soldier, and I trust you.” She swallowed. “You saved my life.”
Dabi’s head dipped. “Shut up.”
“What?”
“That’s not true.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft. “You saved mine. I haven’t said this yet but...thank you.”
Her internal circuitry froze up at the words. She opened her mouth but nothing was said. What could she say in response to that?
“I think…” She said her thoughts out loud. “We helped each other. That’s all.”
She surprised herself at said thought, realising how unprecedented that was. Before this, she always operated alone, and if she ever worked with other soldiers on assignments – well, she hardly noticed the difference between missions with or without them. All she ever focused on was the task at hand. They were like the air rushing past her ear.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dabi coughed. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“You said that the last time, when you let me lean on you. Are you that shy?” Geten observed dryly.
That seemed to strike a nerve. His eyes immediately hardened into a snake’s glare. “Shut up.”
Geten bit her lip to stifle her giggle, but she changed the subject.
“How did you know about what the Liberation Army was really like?” Geten said.
“Easy. I talked to you on the first night, and…” A thought seemed to cross his mind, souring his expression. “Other things.”
Geten frowned. Was that guilt?
“What’d you do?”
He averted her gaze. “Something I can’t say I’m proud of.”
“Interesting. That’s a lot, coming from you, but I won’t pry.”
A silence entered the conversation, but Geten found it comfortable, unlike the silence that presided over the past few days where she was cooped up in the hospital. Although she had the peace and quiet, a part of her was always on edge. It was the same part that kept her ice at the ready, prepared to defend herself from anyone.
But here, as she thought about it, she realised she had let her ice melt into her parka, but she wasn’t alarmed. The vigilant side of her was resting, feeling —
Safe. That’s the word. I feel safe with him.
“I still owe you that soba, by the way.”
“Huh?” She stared at him. “I honestly assumed you were joking.”
“Nope. Tomorrow night. Keep your schedule open.” Dabi met her gaze, a smirk returning to his face.
“Thanks, I suppose. I hope it’s good, and friendly to you.” She gestured at his form.
“Oh yeah, it’s villain-friendly. Don’t worry about it.”
“You call yourself that?” The word was strange to apply to herself. Villain.
“Well, everyone calls me that. I’ve simply accepted it. I mean, I am, but I’m not.”
“That is totally illogical.”
Dabi gave her a weird sort of smile, as if he knew something she didn’t, but it soon faded. “Well, you’ll figure it out. Anything else?”
She did have other things to talk about, but it was enough for tonight. She shook her head.
He gestured at the door. “See you tomorrow then. Good night.”
Geten acquiesced to his request, despite a churning feeling in her stomach. She murmured a “Good night” in return and stepped out of the room.
She was met with a rush of cold air prickling her skin, as if reminding her she was no longer in friendly company. She pulled her parka close to her and began her journey back to her room.
I wish Dabi was here.
The thought came from nowhere, stopping her in her tracks. The crowd parted around her without question.
That’s not normal. She wasn’t one to depend on others, much less wish for their presence. But the feeling of solitude felt more bitter to her than usual.
I’ll go train. It’s been a while anyway, and I’m still a lieutenant to Violet. I’ve yet to inform the other two of the deeds of Takame.
She changed her direction, walking towards her usual spot. The city was still somewhat populated at this time of the night. Soldiers and citizens were walking alongside her or past her. It occurred to her that they kept sparing her sidelong glances, both of curiosity and fear.
I’m walking with them. Her footsteps felt heavier. To tread upon the same ground as them, as opposed to flying overhead on her platform of ice, it made her feel more…akin to those around her, as if they were all cut out from the same cloth. The cold truth? They were. All puppets in the hands of Destro and his ideas.
She thought about Mihara Takame. If she was here, how would Geten have differentiated her from any other soldier?
“Ah!” Geten collided with someone, a young man about her age. She stumbled back, but he quickly caught her by the arm, before instantly dropping his grip once she was stable.
“I’m so sorry, Apocrypha! I was too careless, it will never happen again, I assure you. I’ll watch myself better!” He bowed, voice quaking, along with his arms. No doubt he was part of the younger generation of soldiers who learnt who Apocrypha was, the ice-man. Geten hated that now.
She took a breath to steady her instincts that demanded he bow lower in shame. But it was her shame that she felt those thoughts still rise up in anger when she was knocked back.
“No, I was too mired in my own thoughts, my apologies.” She held him upright and gave a slight bow in return, then she continued onwards, leaving him stunned.
I’ll be that Apocrypha no longer.
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