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theflashdriver · 4 years ago

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Just Five Minutes (A Silvaze Oneshot)

Heavy was the head that wears the crown, both due to the burden carried by its owner and the lack of sleep that accompanied it. Blaze the cat was known for being a workaholic, friends and colleges alike has claimed such and made efforts to curtail her tendencies. To some extent her overworking was indeed self-imposed, it was in her nature to take on burdens and the work of others, but it wasn’t solely her own fault. As the singular monarch of the Sol kingdom, she worked long hours with little hope of respite.

One o’clock was nearing, it was only fourteen minutes away, yet Blaze had already sat through two meetings totalling almost four hours between them. The day had started at half past seven with some additional reading and preparation, she was supposed to have had a pair of hour and a half long meetings yet both had seen fit to overextend by around fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that these meetings were unimportant per say, the first had been regarding a foreseen bumper crop while the second had concerned utilising more modern defences to protect the Sol emeralds, but both of them going into overtime was taking its toll.

The twenty-one-year-old princess was supposed to have a half hour break between each meeting, supposed to being the operative words. A half hour break cut in half once more, it’d be comical if it wasn’t such a common occurrence. Even if there was no break whatsoever between these discussions, she was supposed to retain a prim and proper attitude whilst her visitors could yawn and slouch without risk of it being taken as an afront. Even doffing her usual guardian’s outfit, her robes and tights, risked being viewed as some sort of afront. As she walked the palace halls, now free from that stuffy meeting room, she knew that she was stewing on this much too intently. If she kept this up, she wouldn’t enjoy this brief hiatus and her patience would wear thin when the next meeting undoubtedly exceeded its allotment.

Groggily, she shouldered her way through a set of old double doors and into the library. The scent of old paper and stagnant air hit her, but it signalled a sort of sanctuary. She moved quickly across the emerald carpeted floor, breezing along the great wall formed by the historic fiction section. The massive room was like a labyrinth lined from floor to ceiling with books, but she knew her path through it better than anyone else. It didn’t take long for her to notice that a few tomes had been lifted, a pair on specific pirates and three more containing hyperbolised accounts of the island’s early history. If she hadn’t known he was here, then that would be a clear indication of his presence.

She coasted along the next wall, passing by historic poetry, before crossing by a section filled with pure historic nonfiction. The old wooden shelves that framed her surroundings were surely soon due their monthly dusting, a job that her partner had taken on with gusto in an effort to make this space nicer for the pair of them. As she snuck past yet another library shelf, she swore she heard him snort. With no more than a parse at the row upon row of encyclopaedias, she rounded the final corner and her eyes fell upon him.

Lounging on their shared couch at the heart of the library was Silver the hedgehog, three days into his return from the other world’s future. Both of them had dramatic burdens on their shoulders, she had a world to run while he was tasked with saving his, but to say that he was enjoying his rest would be an understatement. Books were piled on the coffee table before the psychic, claiming residence beside a filled fruit bowl, and he was currently nose deep in a newer retelling of Jet the Second of Babylon’s exploits. He’d taken on clothes too, adding to snug display. She’d stolen the maroon hoodie he was wearing on a number of occasions and his ability to wear baggy grey tracksuit bottoms as he pleased was making her quite envious.

Sneaking behind him, she placed her chin atop his head and draped her arms across his chest. Though she felt him shift, he quickly seemed to relax as he realised just who was holding him. Her eyes dared to close as she took comfort. He’d arrived in as messy a state as usual, smelling of old sweat and thoroughly filthy. Three days deep into bathing though, he smelt of pines and was unbelievably fluffy.

“You look too comfortable, mind if I join you?” She heard the tone of a princess in her voice and winced, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You sound tired,” She felt his hand reach up and his thumb caressed her cheek, “Did everything go okay?”

“We just ran over time, it was as mundane as ever,” She sighed, pulling herself away and rounding the couch. She shrugged off her purple robe, revealing the white tank top beneath, but knew she wouldn’t be free for long. In an attempt to make up for lost time, she immediately lay across the couch and set her head in his lap.

His book was quickly put aside, and their eyes met for the first time today. Age had certainly treated the hedgehog kindly, granting him a height that she couldn’t match even in heels. His shoulders had broadened, and his voice had deepened but that innocent spark still lingered in his piecing yellow eyes, reminding her of what an innocent he was. Casually, she sank a hand into the small plume of chest fur that had escaped him clothes and watched his smile grow warmer.

What they were to each other now had gone unspoken for months, if not years. The nature of their relationship had only ever been confronted through actions like this for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which were their duties. Still, that made things fun, it meant she could perform actions like this and watch as he struggled to react. Blush had claimed his cheeks and he’d quickly broken from their stare-off. She had won, as was so often the case.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, his gaze having undoubtedly fallen on the fruit bowl.

“Famished,” She replied, yawning up at him.

With a whir of psychic energy, Blaze watched a bunch of grapes drift into view before arriving in his hand. He gently lowered his hand and, without so much as blinking, she bit one from the vine. He’d probably filled the bowl himself before coming, the hedgehog had a serious sweet tooth, but she’d started to wean him off of chocolate and towards fruit as of late. His sugar intake was still ludicrous, but he was on the path to improving at least.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper lunch, Marine needed more help that I’d thought,” He claimed a grape for himself. They’d intended to meet during her first break but a call from the raccoon had dashed that plan, “Apparently her ship had sank an hour before she called me in, but she didn’t want to admit that.”

“Hush,” She commanded, claiming some more fruit, “If you’re that worried about it then you can make me something in time for the next break. A little sugar boost will more than get me through,” The feline elaborated, “Did you manage to fish it out the ocean?”

“I did, and it’s mostly patched up, but I think it’ll take her another day or so to get it ready. She had a bit of a pre-emptive launch,” He explained.

For a while they simply lived in silence, quiet and calm. Moments like these were still rather new to them, intimate in a way they hadn’t really experienced. The fact that they could just exist like this for a while, sharing food and unwinding, was wonderful. He hadn’t known comfort in this lifetime, just as he hadn’t the prior, but she was here now to make certain that he did. They were together and they were safe; in moments like this, she could thing of nothing else.

Blaze found herself snuggling deeper into his lap, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her hands. Soon the sound of her purring came to fill the air, overwhelming the silence. This was the closest to the traditional view of a princess that her life got. It was all work, none of what the storybooks had told her. She worked constantly and fought to defend her world, she was born into a position of equal proportions servitude and luxury. At least Silver could open her eyes to the latter, even whilst the former hung over them.

She swallowed another mouthful, realising that a thought wriggled its way to the forefront of her mind, “What time is it?” She was ruining what little time they had but she had to know.

Silver glanced over his shoulder toward the library’s ancient grandfather clock. It had been introduced when the castle was first built but, gradually, none of the original remained, “Five minutes to one,” He glumly responded.

“Only five minutes left already,” She mused, “More like three, considering the walk.”

She heard him sigh, “It’s not fair…”

“It’s the path I’m on, there’s no escaping it,” She eased him, biting another grape off the vine, “In a handful of minutes I’ll be back in that room, discussing the construction of a new graveyard and replacing old tombstones.”

“A handful of minutes…” He hummed.

Blaze looked beyond the bushel and found that a quirk had entered his expression. Silver and new ideas were a paring that often mixed strangely. The hedgehog wasn’t unintelligent but his still relative inexperience with social situations and the nature of the modern world had led to some rather embarrassing situations. Innocently embarrassing of course, but certainly still worth avoiding.

Pushing the grapes aside she looked him in the eye, “What are you thinking, Silver?”

“What if that handful of minutes didn’t have to be just a handful?” He thought aloud, allowing his hand to mingle with his chest fur and quickly finding hers, “What if that handful of minutes could be as long as you wanted it to be?”

She flipped her right hand, interlocking her fingers with his, “It’s important work, I need to get back to it. There’s no way of changing the system to make that go away. You know how important my role is.”

“I know it is but,” He squeezed her hand, “You’ve already missed half of your break today, you deserve that much at least, right?”

“You’re so naïve,” Blaze yawned again, “I’ve missed it, so it’s gone. Rushing through meetings, or avoiding them to steal it back, isn’t an option. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

“But what if you could have it…” He hummed again, releasing her hand, “What if I could get you it…” Blaze sat up, turning to face him only to find that he’d looked away. Before she could open her mouth again, he’d jumped to his feet, “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I can do this.”

“Silver,” As the hedgehog went to stand, Blaze caught his hand. While she had an inkling of what he was going to attempt, she just didn’t know how safe it was, “You don’t have to overdo it, not for me.”

“You’re clearly tired and I want to help you, Blaze,” As he smiled down at her, speaking so honestly, she couldn’t help but feel a butterfly flap in her stomach, “I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it only changes things a little,” She let go of her hand and his smile grew even bigger, “I’ll be right back.”

The hedgehog took off like a shot, vanishing amongst the bookshelves, but Blaze didn’t hear his footfalls for long. There was a flash of cyan light, accompanied by a rumbling like thunder, and then the hedgehog was gone from the library, likely even from the entire castle. The princess glanced to the library’s grandfather clock. Her next meeting was set to start in three minutes. Had he not just run off then she would be preparing, hurrying back in the hopes of brushing up on the itinerary.

Her gaze dropped to the bunch of grapes he’d left but, just as she was about to pluck one, another thundercrack rolled through the library. Blaze looked up only to find that a portal had manifested in front of her, a bright cyan disk that washed the table, couch and her in its psychic glow. Just as quickly as it had manifested, Blaze watched as a hand with a familiar circular symbol reached through and into the library. She rose quickly, grabbing her robe before stepping over the table and toward the gateway. She took one last glance at the clock; she only had two minutes left, but how long did he plan to make those last? Blaze took his hand, closed her eyes and, feeling his tug, stepped into the warbling energy wall.

A change in air pressure immediately greeted her. The feline felt a gentle breeze blow through her fur, yet sunlight was shining warmly upon her. A stumbling step that brought her fully free from the portal lead her to discover the thick grass underfoot, matched by the mixed scent of countless wildflowers. She blinked away the difference as, in an instant, her world had gone from being lit by electrical lights to basking in a sun shining overhead. Around her, and even from far afield, Blaze could hear the hum of insects mixing with all manner of marvellous birdsong.

Her eyes fell upon the hedgehog who’d brought her here. In what had been mere seconds to her had been long enough for him not only to choose this location but his garb entirely. The hedgehog stood before her dressed in a short sleaved, open-buttoned, teal paisley shirt with accents of orange and white throughout the pattern. A set of still comfortable looking black trousers had taken the place of his joggers and he’d donned a set of hiking boots. As nice as his clothes were though, they couldn’t hold her attention like the overexcited grin on his muzzle.

He stepped out the way, revealing both a picnic spread and a far better view of their surroundings. Beyond the woven basket and tartan blanket, Blaze could see tree after tree stocked with ripe peaches, on the verge of dropping, and rolling green hills that spanned out towards the horizon. She soon however found herself becoming lost in the smaller beauties of this band new landscape. Lavender, crocuses, violets, bluebells, buttercups and countless other species of small flower covered the ground but around them were also foxgloves that harboured blundering bumblebees and wild sunflowers on magnificently tall stalks. The sight of a green hummingbird, daring to fly so curiously close out of blissful innocent, pulled her from staring at their surroundings.

There was no one else here, it seemed like no one had ever been here. When the hedgehog has left, she’d known his plan was to travel through time and find them a peaceful spot, but she’d expected to arrive somewhere in the reccent past or the other dimension. This must have taken far more effort than that, it absolutely had to. Not only had he found a place so wonderful but he’d found it on a day that the sky was perfect, errant clouds were drifting through the sky but never lingering too long in front of the sun. The grass wasn’t wet, rainfall must have been days prior, and yet the world around them was so vibrant.

“Silver, where are we?” She asked, her mouth agape.

“Where? We’ve hardly left where you were sitting,” He cheekily answered, wandering back to sit on the far side of the blanket, “We’re now on a simple grass plain on an undiscovered island, you’ll sit on that couch, around about where we are now, in a little under two thousand years.”

The feline walked to the edge of the blanket, “How long did it take you to find this time? How many days did you cycle through?”

“Well, I got us a good while away from the folks first landing on the island and then kept trying this same day every year until it was nice,” He answered casually but his blush betrayed how proud he was of this plan, “I think I went through a couple hundred years before picking this one.”

“And I take it this safe?” She lowered herself to sit, still eying him intently, “There’s no chance of a time paradox?”

“As long as we don’t do anything to disrupt the land, nothing should change. The timeline seems to do what’s easiest, it can stomach a small change like this,” He promised, opening the hamper with a wave of his hand, “Picking the spot was the last thing I did, gathering and cooking everything took way longer.”

Silver began to waggle his fingers in the air, almost like he was pretending to conduct. Blaze watched as shapes began to dance free from the basket. First came a large, sealed, pitcher, plainly filled with raspberry lemonade and still containing a half dozen frozen ice cubes. Next came a large silver serving dish which, upon landing, removed its top to reveal a spread of far more sandwiches than they could ever hope to eat. From tuna and cucumber to cheese and tomato, all manner of fillings had manifested in the blink of an eye. Soon after followed a troop of cupcakes set atop a two-tier stand, each iced a different colour and decorated from sweets ranging from lemon jelly slices to maraschino cherries to give each cake their own theme.

Silver the hedgehog could make wonderful use of a minute, that much was more than clear, but how long had that minute lasted for him?

“Just how long did you spend on this,” She squinted at him, causing the hedgehog to break eye contact.

“N-Not longer than eight hours?” He gulped.

“Silver!” The feline shouted, genuinely shocked. She’d expected a couple of hours, three at most, but eight?

“I can rest up and everything will be fine, we can stay here for as long as you like,” He promised, “As long as you don’t plan to stay for more than two hundred years, then we might bump into your ancestors.”

“I should have you send us back right now, this is far too much of an effort and I didn’t contribute anything,” She was flustered, again slipping into the voice she used to rule, but she was anything but upset with him.

“You just being here is more than enough on its own,” Silver responded, clearly growing flustered himself, “I-It’s not like I did this all totally on my own, I went to the other dimension and Amy let me use her oven. I didn’t want to go back and use mine in case I encountered Marine or messed something up permanently.”

In a lot of ways, Blaze knew she was exceptionally lucky to have Silver in her life, let alone to have a relationship like this with him. For as mundane as the cooking behind his effort was, and as normal as their prior time in the library had been, the hedgehog was anything but regular and so casual in how he showed it. No one else could ever have come remotely close to what she was experiencing right now, no one else had a partner who could stretch a minute into eight hours before whisking them away for as long as they liked. The feline almost felt selfish for keeping him all to herself like this but she knew that, fundamentally, that he did this because he cared. He’d seen how bedraggled she was and wanted to make her happy, to shirk this opportunity would be foolish. That and, well, he’d set this up for her to take advantage of. Blaze could tease him to her heart’s content, and no one was around to catch them in the act.

“We can eat, we can rest, we can explore,” He offered, awkwardly smiling at her again, “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, hm,” The feline pawed her way across the blanket and toward the hedgehog, “I think I’d like to retake our prior position.”

With half a yawn and no further warning, she pushed her way to rest her head atop the hedgehog’s lap. She’d always known that he made a good pillow but something about this position, coupled with the warmth of the sun seeping into her fur, was truly blissful. Their cloistered times in the library were wonderful, but there was something entirely heavenly about doing this so publicly yet not having to worry about the prying eyes of others. There was no chance of rumours, no potential for tabloids, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. The sight of the blue sky above as they did this too; something about it felt so liberating.

“You said you were famished, right? I managed to get fresh salmon,” As he babbled, she glanced up at him. The hedgehog had used his power to draw one of the triangle-cut sandwiches from the tray, “I guess that’s not much of a feat when you can time travel but-

Before he could undersell himself, the feline reached up and shooed away his glowing aura. The sandwich retrieved, she only spoke two words, “Thank you,” That alone was enough to restoke the fire on his muzzle.

The clink of ice filled her ears as she took the first bite, signalling that he was pouring them drinks through the use of his power. Seared salmon and baby spinach in a delicately creamy sauce, the flavours mingled to perfectly. If every single one of those sandwiches had this level of effort put into them then the long hours he’d mentioned more than made sense. It’d be akin to making four or five separate dishes and then reshaping them to suit sandwiches, atop that even crafting the cupcakes and drink.

As a glass filled to the brim with a faint pink liquid drifted towards Blaze, she looked up to him again, “You really did go too far with all of this. You know I was expecting to arrive in the other dimension or the past, to step into some kind of café or a different library.”

“I may have gotten a little overexcited, Amy did tell me I was going overboard. Even if she then insisted that I go all out…” He admitted as she took a sip. It was frightfully sweet, as one should anticipate a concoction made by the two hedgehogs would be, but surprisingly subtle in its flavouring. The lemon only faintly undercut the primary raspberry taste, “I kind of owe her now. I promised to help her do something similar for her and Sonic…”

“Well, it does seem that you have a knack for this,” She complimented him before taking another sip, “I’m sure she’ll be more than pleased with wherever and whenever you send them.”

“She already has ideas, but I’m scared of granting her free reign in the past,” He cringed, “I need to find a middle ground between an interesting place and somewhere it’d be difficult to change the future,” She watched as a cupcake flew through the air, the hedgehog hadn’t had a sandwich yet but she was too comfortable to scold him, “I was thinking about letting them go on a winter date in the middle of summer… she seemed to think that was a great idea.”

“That does sound rather romantic. Very unique,” Blaze responded, before a likely truth ran through her mind, “Although, she’ll probably want you to surprise him with it. If you do that, she’ll surely be ready for the cold while he won’t be. It’ll be an opportunity to get closer to him, in more ways than one.”

“She wouldn’t let him freeze, right?” He asked, so very innocently.

“No, she certainly wouldn’t,” The pyrokinetic half-joked, “But I think, deep down, he’d enjoy that just as much as her.”

Conversation ebbed and flowed, just as the tide or changes in the clouds. One moment they would be discussing the food but the next they would be simply holding each other and enjoying their serene surroundings, only to later end up laughing about their friends’ potential antics. They were never quiet for too long, but conversation never felt forced or as though it was some sort of requirement, it was allowed to come and go as it pleased. Silver’s pointing out of a cloud shaped like Cream’s head led to a long span of time where they stared to the sky, occasionally pointing out the strange forms they observed. It was all so regular, so fundamentally plain, and it brought her nigh unending peace. Though she yawned throughout their meal, Blaze never found herself falling asleep.

His arms had found their way to hold her, clasping just above her bellybutton. This had been intended to relax her, but the princess couldn’t help but take in how peaceful her partner looked. He’d been so overexcited, but he’d equally worked so hard. It wasn’t surprising to see him so tired. After another long bout of silence, the hedgehog began to shift.

“Well, the food’s done,” He hummed, beginning to return the crockery to the hamper. In truth, they hadn’t managed to entirely finish all the sandwiches but she’d long since expressed her fullness, “We should probably head back, right?”

It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, but she fundamentally understood it. He was trying to be mature, trying to match the seriousness she so often displayed, but Blaze had been spurred on by their surroundings. If they truly were outside of time, able to return to it at any moment, then what was the rush? Why would she ever waste a day as perfect as this. Just this once, perhaps only this once ever, Blaze the cat, the guardian of the Sol emeralds and princess of the Sol kingdom, decided to be greedy.

“I don’t think two hundred years have passed yet,” The pyrokinetic hummed, sitting up stretching.

“Eh?” He was clearly caught off guard.

“I thought I got to decide when we went back?” She teased, now fully rising to her feet. Blaze turned to him, “If this is my kingdom then I would like to see it.”

The hedgehog stumbled to his feet, beaming, “R-Really? I didn’t look around too much, just in case you wanted to. I just took a bit of a glance around from above, made sure everything was as it should be.”

She brushed past him, taking the hedgehog’s hand and feeling her tail wrap around his waist, “Shall we stroll then? Take in this island, unsullied by others’ footsteps?”

He squeezed her hand, bundling their picnic spread into a neat pile and setting her royal robe atop it, “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

That stroll quickly evolved into a frankly stupid dash through the woods. Hand in hand soon turned to arm in arm as they leapt through the thick bracken of the underbrush. Though the hedgehog apparently had some knowledge of the layout, the feline soon ended up leading and racing to reach spots she knew would be transformed with time. A great peach tree forest presently stood, proud and strong, where the royal gardens would eventually take root. The feline had known that these trees were native to the island, but not that they were nearly so plentiful. In her time, only a few remained on Southern Island, one at the heart of the aforementioned garden and another near the town centre. Both were said to be centuries old but now Blaze knew that was certainly true.

Beyond those trees were a swamp, now the site of southern island’s main shopping district. The countless croaking of frogs proved to her that this part of her kingdom had always been loud, but seeing it in such a natural state almost made Blaze wish it was still in such a state. Still, that feeling was quickly washed away as Silver went to pick up a small amphibian only to tumble over himself. Though he managed to psychically keep himself from falling, the response from all the frogs was to leap from the brackish liquid and scatter in all directions. The cacophony of croaks was only rivalled by the sound of their slippery forms crashing back into the water and against the ferns of the undergrowth. The sight of him, bashfully hanging there as if he’d been ensnared in some unseen trap, was more than enough to make her laugh. In an instant, the hunter had taken the place of his supposed prey. What he’d intended to do with a frog if he’d caught it, let alone why he’d tried to catch one with his hands, Blaze had no idea, but it’d only added to the enjoyable mundanity of the day.

No reason, beyond the virtue of freedom she felt welling in her chest, led Blaze to break from staring at him and, still grinning from ear to ear, take off running. The hedgehog gave pursuit, for once not so oblivious as to think this was more than a mere game. Blaze jumped over roots and weaved through trees, running just out of arm’s reach ahead of the psychic. Her heart pounded as though this was some harsh battle, some life-or-death scenario, but she knew it’d only been stoked by the childish part of infatuation. She couldn’t do this in her time, not without feeling the eyes of her people scrutinising her every movement. Even when she was in the other dimension, the presence of so many people made her feel as though her every movement was being analysed. This was freedom, a form of release from her inhibitions that she’d never experience otherwise. It was as though they were in that destroyed future again, still children who were oblivious to how the world was supposed to be, but free from the pressures that world had forced upon them.

She ran and ran and ran until the trees were no more, until the grass vanished from under her and stone took its place. Blaze found herself at the edge of a bluff, overlooking the beach and the sea just beyond it. The feline knew this rockface well, she and he had enjoyed many picnics atop it. Though it was open and exposed now, it would with time become one of the most secluded and private places on the entire island. Panting, she drew the back of her hand across her brow and threw a glance back to him. Cyan light was glowing from the trees, he was in pursuit but had perhaps lost her.

“Silver! This way!” She called out before quickly turning her attention back to the view.

To Blaze, the value of the sea had been lost to her life spent on an island nation. She’d come to take the waters for granted, it was all she’d known for much too long, her relationship with the ocean had been a rather dull one. But now, seeing a beach devoid of people and waters more pristine than ever before, the beauty of the view took her by force. An untouched driftwood barrier formed a long yet broken line along the shore, protecting and simultaneously buffering a wide collection of rocks and shells of all different sizes and shapes.

She heard him land at her side; the key reason that she could stand heights like this. Across both lives, he’d helped her overcome that fear of falling. That alone was a miracle, she couldn’t believe she’d overlooked his potential for quite so long. What had once been a power she was equal parts captivated by and envious of had quickly become a rather romantic tool, a key part of unspoken his arsenal. Though this was the first occasion he’d taken them out of time for such a casual reason, he’d so often and so casually snuck her gifts with his power and carried her for miles above the ground. With the wave of his hand he could sweep her off her feet, not that he would without checking in first.

“It’s beautiful. This spot reminds me of when I first arrived in this world, everything looked so incredible. Undamaged, untouched,” The hedgehog thought aloud, “Do you want to head down there?”

Her tail had already snuck its way around his side again, but she knew that wasn’t enough of a hint for him. She had control, the almighty time traveling psychic was practically wrapped around her finger. It was probably due to their lonely situation but, now that they were away from the forest, it was as though the pair were more isolated than ever. She couldn’t help but feel just a little more confident than usual.

Yawning, mimicking the kind of movements she’d only ever seen in movies and read of in books, the feline stretched her arm around his far shoulder, “I suppose I might.”

Beet red colouration rushed to colour his cheeks as she stepped closer and allowed her right hand to sink into his chest fur, “I-I’ll take you wherever you want to go…”

She raised her leg and he quickly caught on, using his psychic pull to bring her into a bridal carry. This position had taken on different meanings across their lives. While once the feeling of his arm beneath her knee was a sign that they were retreating, it now signified a journey toward something. Be it the peak of a mountain or deep into a valley or simply further in their relationship, this position was a sign of movement. Gently, casually, she let herself lean into his shoulder.

Plainly trying to ignore his blush, a sheen of cyan overtook the hedgehog’s body as gravity abandoned them. With a single step they were floating above the abyss, but he didn’t stop there. As if walking on any normal road, the hedgehog paced further and further forward. With each step they would descend as far down as they did forward. Despite their relatively slow pace, Blaze lost track of time as she stared up at him.

There was something about moments like this, when that psychic glow coated him and his quills hardened in response. It contrasted so heavily with the childhood view she’d had of him, of an adorable ball of white fluff who was far too serious for his own good. Places like this brought out the best in him, let him be more casual and match his inherently soft aesthetic. He could be harsh and strong when he had to be, but she knew this was his closer to his natural state.

As his feet met the ground his eyes crashed into hers. She opted not to step out of his grasp, “S-So, um, we’re here.”

“I’d noticed,” She hummed, scanning their surroundings. He’d landed them on the inner edge of the driftwood barrier, where shells had gathered for years on this untouched land, “Shall we sit?”

“If you want,” The hedgehog struggled to respond, lowering the pair of them to the ground. Naturally, she maintained her position in his lap and atop him.

So very casually, or at least as casually as she could manage, the pyrokinetic cast a glance to her surroundings. The crashing of waves was somehow clearer than it typically was in her time, perhaps due in part to the lack of individuals intruding upon the ocean’s path. The sand was especially smooth, perhaps a result of the ocean’s efforts going entirely unhindered. She blindly stretched behind her, feeling her way through what few shells were in reach. They were cockles, as was supposed to be the case on the island. She had a meeting regarding their harvesting later today or, rather, in almost two thousand years.

She caught sight of his staring out of the corner of her eye. He was looking out to sea, but the remnants of his blush still lingered on his cheeks. Her only regret in all this was that she hadn’t seen his reaction as he first laid eyes upon this untouched world. The hedgehog had grown such an affinity for nature, a want to both experience and protect. It’d become an additional aspect of his role defending that other world, making sure that nature continued to thrive. From gardening to birdwatching to hiking, he’d fully embraced what he so often had to go weeks without.

He would leave again soon to perform that duty, she had to take advantage of what they had both here and now.

“You know, this has all been quite the flagrant misuse of your powers,” She tutted, shifting her weight to push him backwards as she broke the silence, “Very irresponsible.”

It was hardly the most scathing of her taunts but, perhaps due to the physical act that had coincided with it, her words it clearly snatched the hedgehog’s attention. His eyes flickered up to her, wide with surprise. The term your highness, or any of her royal titles for that matter, didn’t much appeal to the feline, but turning her learned regal traits on the hedgehog was an endless source of fun. She watched as surprise was gradually overcome by what little defiance he could muster; she already knew what he was going to say.

“W-Well,” He stuttered, trapped beneath her, “I thought it was for the best? It’s not like I only use my powers to save the world, I used them to pass you grapes before we left.”

“Ah yes, how long ago was that? More than ten minutes must have past by now,” The feline felt a smirk grow on her face as the hedgehog squirmed, “You’ve made me late.”

“We’ll be back on time, I promise,” He managed to reply, struggling to meet her gaze, “I-I’ll drop you right into the meeting room if you want, we can even arrive early. Your past self will be in the library for ten minutes before it starts, you can spend all that time getting ready for the next meeting.”

“How naïve, making such decisions for a princess,” She sat up straight, shuffling off of him a little.

The hedgehog managed to rise just a little, though his blush hadn’t cleared in the slightest, “Y-You’re happy to be here though, right? You’re happy to have this break?”

“Am I?” Blaze turned away from him and smirked toward the sea, “Whyever would you think that?”

“Y-You’ve been smiling,” He stammered, she could imagine the worry on his face without even glancing his way.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” She lied, still looking out to sea. Far away, she could see where the waves dipped beneath the horizon. They really were alone out here. Playing with him like this in such a public space was truly liberating, “Though I supposed I have enjoyed this, somewhat.”

“I’m glad,” Like a switch had been flipped, he was beaming again, “You looked so tired back in the library. I know I can’t do much to help with your work but, if you ever need something like this again, you only need to say.”

“We can’t do this every time, Silver. There will be occasions when I’ll want to, but I know we shouldn’t,” His smile wavered, she cupped his cheek. He was so genuine, so sweet, so naïve, “Just having you by my side is more than enough,” She allowed that hand to slip to his quills and ruffle them, “Although, that’s not to say I won’t ever take you up on that offer…”

For a long while, surrounded by this serene scene, they simply sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Blaze found herself not sleeping but simply snuggling into the time traveller, burying her head into the crook of his neck before lowering to reclaim the pillow that was his chest. Eventually though, the feline knew that she was as comfortable as was possible, that all her relaxation had reached its climax. Pushing herself from his frame to loom above him once again.

“We should probably head back,” She snorted, as he fumbled to his feet, “Or, I suppose, head forward in this case.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready,” He double checked, only casting his hands skyward as she nodded.

Psychokinesis whirred and hummed, a great blue pulse left the markings on his hand only to soar above and beyond the cliff-face. While that energy was racing towards their belongings, the hedgehog’s face took on a frankly goofy expression. Despite how casual this situation was, his commonly serious demeanour had leached through to make him look rather foolish. His very colourful and uniquely patterned shirt certainly wasn’t helping matters.

In no less than a minute, Blaze sighted a glowing bundle soaring over the bluff’s lip. Like some kind of soft meteor, the wrapped-up picnic basket crashed towards them, only just stopping before it could hit the hedgehog in the chest. As the pile swept past, she plucked her robe from the top and shouldered it.

“You’re sure that you’ll be able to get us back to the right time, aren’t you?” The princess asked, dusting the sand from her tights.

“I promise,” He smiled, floating the bundle behind them before stretching his hands forward. From the quills at the back of his head, a well-cut green stone flew to hover in front of them. A chaos emerald, his preferred source of energy.

As though he was washing a window with sponges strapped to both of his palms, the hedgehog began to wave his hands in repeated circles. More energy began to pool in front of him like a warbling plate, it quickly grew from the size of a droplet to become far larger than either of them. The outer edge of the disk gradually ceased in their shifting and the hedgehog’s hands fell to his sides. The effort did seem to take it out of him a little but, with them now both bathing in the light of transportation, he wouldn’t have to work again.

“After you,” He gestured ahead, plucking the emerald from the air.

Blaze, entirely trusting her partner, stepped forward. Shifting across time and space was, by now, practically second nature to her. Once upon a time she’d struggled with the instantaneous shift from one place to another, her first arrival in the other dimension had left her dizzy and exhausted. Now she knew some best practices; to close her eyes, hold her breath and keep her balance.

She stepped off of sand and straight onto hardwood.

The strong scent of coffee struck Blaze first, the only true amenity in the room was a small coffeepot set on a small side table. That much was enough to let Blaze know that they’d arrived. No wind rustled through her fur and the room was lit by a series of electric lights that had been plugged into the celling when she was five. They were at the heart of the palace, there were no windows for the sun to breach. Just a boring wooden table with reflective varnish. He walked in behind her, sealing the portal with no more than a wave as he finished arriving.

Compared to the world they’d just known; the silence of the meeting room was deafening. She already missed the breaking of waves and the ticking of the room’s clock wasn’t a worthy replacement. They’d manifested at the head of the table, her position, and were faced with six empty seats. A glance to the wall proved that Silver had stuck to his word, it was exactly ten minutes till one o’clock. On the long stretching desk, directly in front of her seat, was a bulky binder filled with notes and opened to the hour’s itinerary. Ah yes, she’d gone from running through forests, trudging through swamps and having a heart to heart on the beach to discussing where to bury the dead in no more than a moment.

How long had they spent away? She’d assumed that it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours but, in truth, time had been rather lost on her. Despite his intent being to create a time for resting, they’d ran and acted in such a wild manned. Instead, he’d energised her in an entirely different way. He’d brought her excitement; he’d given her the strength to carry on and get through today. How could she even begin to repay that?

An idea wriggled its way into Blaze’s head.

Nonchalantly, the feline redonned her robe and neatly fastened it before retaking her seat, pretending to scan her notes, “Well, everything seems to be in order…”

“I told you that I’d get us back on time,” She could hear the joy in his voice.

“You certainly did,” The princess squinted at the page, placing her finger beneath a chosen random word, “But it does look like the timeline has changed, ever so slightly.”

“W-What? It has?” He rushed to her side, leaning over her shoulder to look at the papers, “Blaze, what are you talking about? This is still all about refurbishing gravesto-

The moment he turned from the page to look at her, Blaze’s hand sunk into the quills on the back of his head and pulled him in just a little closer. He surely knew what she was about to do, she’d done it often enough, but that didn’t seem to stop him from becoming flustered. After a moment of staring, taking in his blushing face, Blaze closed her eyes and closed the distance.

Feeling him shudder at the first contact, wanting to return her efforts but being restricted by her hold, brought the princess endless jubilation. Blaze’s heartbeat shot up, as she pulled him in and offered him the slightest of opportunities. He hurriedly took it, pushing to further close the distance as is such a thing was possible. The taste of raspberry lemonade on his lips was just an added bonus. Feeling him grow tense beneath her touch, knowing that, despite his capacity to take her back in time, she had this power over him, was incredible. A might not born of her royal position or pyrokinetic might, but love.

The kiss didn’t last for long, of course. Not only did she have work to return to, but Blaze knew it was best to leave him wanting more. As she pulled back, her eyes reopened and his bashful face filled her vision. Eyes lit like overexcited lighting bolts, cheeks like poppy petals and a thorough look of overexcitement had claimed his face.

“S-So, I take it the timeline hasn’t actually changed then?” The psychic eventually asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” She smirked, “You’re the same naïve hedgehog you were when we left.”

“That’s good,” He struggled to reply, “I-I think.”

For a moment longer she simply stared into his eyes and watched him squirm. The princess didn’t especially wear makeup but the idea of leaving a lipstick stain on him had crossed her mind a handful of times. He probably wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. But, alas, similarly too late, they’d been lingering together for much too long. The pair of them had just spent hours together, she’d decided it was time to go, and yet she didn’t want to release him. What foolishness…

“I’ll see you in an hour and a half, perhaps a little longer,” She mused, still holding the back of his head, “If you can make such good use of two minutes, what can you do with so much more?”

“W-Well, um,” He squeaked, “I guess I’ll try to think of something?”

Her fingers uncurled from his quills but the hedgehog, plainly stunned, didn’t move, “I’m sure you will, but, for now, we must part.”

“O-Oh, right, yes, um,” He shot up straight, quickly looking away, “Good luck with, um, t-the graveyard people.”

“You’ll need to get used to this eventually,” She rolled her eyes. Despite the rarity of their kisses, given only when she was certain no one else could see, she’d thought that he’d have grown a little bolder by now. Despite the smallness of her action in comparison to his, the hedgehog was adorably lovestruck.

“I don’t know that I can do that in an hour and a half, even with time travel,” He mumbled, tugging at his chest fur, “And an extra fifteen minutes probably won’t change that.”

He could be so naïve, so blunt and oblivious. Without a second thought, Blaze rose from her seat and took him by the collar. Uttering nothing more than the word “Well, if you can’t manage that,” For the second time in so many minutes, her lips found his. The ticking of the wall clock filled her ears as they parted again, “Just brace yourself for when I finish up.”

#silvaze #Blaze the Cat #Silver the Hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #Amy Rose #i guess the latter two are just mentioned but oh well #Marine The Raccoon #fanfiction #sonic

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clvmtines · 4 years ago

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welcome aboard, clementine martinez, student #2. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like alexa demie? according to our records, you hail from florida, usa, prefer she / her pronouns, are a cis woman, and are here to study creative writing. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + charming, + free-spirited, but also - restive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the billiards room. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a casino chip carried around for luck from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends! i’m very excited to be here. i’m jay (est, she/her) n i used to play astrid nyland a few months ago if anyone remembers bt i had to leave for personal reasons. i’m so glad to be back now that i hve life sorted and some free time for summer break <3 read on for some details abt this new muse of mine, clementine.

01. biography !

so ! clementine was born in florida. & yes, her real name is clementine. her mom thot it was the cutest name idea ever. clementine mostly goes by clem. she comes from the town [redacted] in florida bcoz i am too lazy to look up a specific town <3 but alas ! it was swampy and humid and she lived in a trailer park.

her parents got knocked up at nineteen. clem was born nine months after a particularly wild 1999 fourth of july. her birthday is march 26th and she’s an aries.

(TW: addiction, child injury) clem’s dad was a gambling addict and petty criminal—he wld steal credit cards n whatnot. he wld gamble away diaper money n it would cause constant fighting until her dad finally left. her mom took this very hard n began drinking a bit too often, leaving clem to to make cereal for dinner n fend for herself. once clem tried to make hot dogs on the stove and spilled boiling water on herself. got a p bad burn on her arm/shoulder and still has a big scar.

the soundtrack of her childhood was cicadas buzzing and stray dogs barking. the sizzle and pop of natty light cans. turning up her ipod to max volume to drown out the sounds of her mother fighting with her new boyfriend.

throughout her upbringing, clem’s dad was always in and out of the picture. he’d blow into town when he hit it big. he’d take her on these little “adventures” like staying in a motel 6 n renting movies at block buster n ordering good pizza nt the dominos shit she ate with her mom lol. ofc he was charging it all to someone’s stolen credit card. he’d always promise to, like, take clem away. n clem was a daddy’s girl so she believed him. the last time it happened was her h.s. graduation. her mom didn’t show ( "overslept” after a bender ) but her dad did and surprised her n said everything wld be different. bt then he bailed on their plans for the next day n when she called his cell, the number was disconnected. tht was the defining “i’m done” moment. clem promised to never be disappointed by her father again.

(TW: racism) her mother has mexican ancestry and clem’s always been called her twin. but clem was raised in a predominately white area and honestly ?? it was really hard without her even realizing it. she’s still unpacking a lot of things today abt her youth that jst weren’t okay bt she thought were normal. like microaggressions, stereotypes, being fetishized by boys in high school. gross shit.

as a kid, clem was rumored to be really poor bc she wore tattered clothes n got free lunch at school. once she invited a friend to her house & the next day they told everyone it’s in a trailer park. that reputation—the “trailer park girl”—was really hard to shake. and clem got almost desperate to shake it. she was endlessly trying to set her old self on fire and emerge from the ashes like a phoenix.

eventually clem became more “popular”. in school she was, like, a straight b student. very average although super creative and quick-thinking. she always had street smarts. problem solving skills. independence. more of, like, practical intelligence as opposed to book smarts because academia bores her tbh. she was like why am i reading these overrated boring books by dead white men or learning abt polynomials when i know nothing abt how to pay a mortage or do taxes. like...she saw the american education system as bullshit and put in modest effort because she didn’t believe it deserved her sweat and tears.

however, she entered the online lottery for the seas program on a whim and got in. so she’s studying creative writing now.

02. personality !

first thing you shld know abt clem is that she’s a compulsive liar essentially—she tells various stories to make her life seem better than what it was. to one person, she’s an heiress to a real estate company and grew up wealthy. to the next she was raised by nomadic hippies. some of her lies are small fibs while others are grandiose tales. she rarely talks about her actual upbringing. she hates talking abt her family or the v real trauma of growing up in a household where both parents struggled w/ addiction; the uncertainty, the broken promises, the fact that she had to grow up so soon and deal w/ so much. it wasn’t fair, and if she thinks about it too much, she feels this anger. anger at the universe. anger at her circumstances. she doesn’t know where to put this anger. she doesn’t know how to shrink it. so she avoids it.

despite her rough upbringing, though, clem is actually really sweet and kind. she’s adventurous, fun-loving, free-spirited, and bold.

bt ! she can also be closed-off, competitive and restive.

she’s seemingly tight with everyone? like she’s jst that girl who can get along with anyone tbh.

in her spare time you can catch her tanning by the pool, hanging at the bar, playing pool ( which she learned from her dad ), and socializing. she’ll never say no to hanging out with people.

she learned a lot from her little “adventures” with her dad, who was very good at conning others and often involved her in his dumb little scams. clem is suuuper good at pulling the ‘im baby 🥺’ card to get what she wants.

she can be a little selfish, because she grew up looking out for herself.

stubborn and dogmatic as hell !!!

she doesn’t do too many relationships but when she does fall, i imagine she falls hard and fast. she refuses to be made a fool of, tho. when she gets vulnerable she flashes back to being a kid, waiting all day for her dad to show up only to have him bail on her. again. she hates that feeling. so if she, like, senses a shift in someone’s energy she’ll b like, “i’ll break up with u before u can do it to me” and the person wasn’t even tryna dump her lmao.

has a lot of sex. too much ?? sex?? mayb. but she’s v sex positive.

her personal style is v late 90s. hair clips, big scrunchies, neon, fur trim, crop and tube tops, hoop earrings, chokers, patterns, platform shoes, biodegradable glitter cuz it’s good fr the earth *winks*. clothes from o-mighty.......actually jst google o mighty, pull up the images and That is clem. she dresses like a bratz doll. she’s dedicated to the aesthetic.

03. headcanons !

her item brought from home is a hot pink poker chip from a casino. her dad gave it to her. he said it reminded him of her because of the color; he got it during one of his winning streaks and said it was lucky. she has a complicated relationship w/ her dad n doesn’t even speak to him anymore, bt she will never go anywhere without it.

she’s a smol bean—only 5′4

an astrology girl and she reads palms ! she absolutely makes astrology tik toks that people only watch because she’s hot. her flirting technique is to ask you to read your palm.

she doesn’t typically drink to get drunk. but she does love a good sugary cocktail. to her, a drink is like an accessory. a blue fishbowl by the pool, a jack and coke as she stands around a bar. usually she'll nurse the same beverage for a while. if you see her wasted it usually means she’s going thru it emotionally lol. the one thing she does do is drugs tho

pretty much listens to exclusively female artists.

a bit of an activist. environmentalism, feminism and the like, she’s v outspoken. vegan for ethical reasons (TW: drugs) bt still does cocaine. she wears shirts with ‘my pussy my choice’ bedazzled on the front.

loves to rollerblade ! back home she didn’t have a car so she’d bike or rollerblade. now she still has her blades and she’ll use them when the ship docks.

03. wanted connections !

Friends, bffs, ride or dies, friends who are like siblings to her, maybe a friend with an unrequited crush on either side ??

an ex she dumped/cheated on/otherwise self sabotaged their relationship because she was afraid of vulnerability.

an ex friend who realized she lies a lot abt herself n felt betrayed. OH ! ESP if they opened up to her on many occasions abt intimate, personal stuff. imagine the betrayal they felt when they found that everything they thought they knew abt clem is a lie.

someone who she actually opens up to. a confidant. or, maybe, like, a stranger she drunkenly spilled her soul to and now she avoids them like the plague.

a rival. clem can be competitive.

her drug dealer

someone she knows she shouldn’t hook up with and… does it anyways. like a friend’s ex or smthing. spicy <3

i welcome anything !

#seasintro #addiction tw #alcohol tw #drugs tw

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hockeylvr59 · 5 years ago

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Positive || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So here’s another new piece (because I can’t seem to finish any of my existing series). Fair warning this one is a little rough emotionally, so you know...take a moment to prepare yourself and then let me know how much you want to kill me after.

Warnings: light smut, ANGST

Word Count: 3,502

~~~~~~

Sitting on an unfamiliar couch with tears streaming down your face was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next five minutes were going to change your life forever, one way or another. Just the thought of that made it impossible to breathe, your chest tight as you buried your head between your knees. It was only the touch of a soft feminine hand that kept you even a little bit grounded, though that touch could only do much to console you as your world crashed and burned around you.

Thinking back, you wished you could change the events that had led up to this moment.

_____

You’d met Kevin through Jimmy Vesey and the two of you had become fast but casual friends. With you living in Boston while he played in New York and then Winnipeg and then finally Philly, you really didn’t see much of each other during the season. Phone calls were your most frequent form of communication and Kevin regularly called just to check-in or when he wanted to hear your voice after a bad game.

So when Kevin insisted that you join his family on vacation over the all-star break you were shocked. That seemed like a gesture that breached the ‘just friends’ relationship you had. You’d tried to insist that he should just enjoy his time with his family, but Kevin wouldn’t take no for an answer, threatening to fly to Boston to put your ass on a plane himself.

With your own commitments, you’d only been able to take a long weekend off and so you’d flown down to the tropics on Thursday evening, arriving sometime in the early morning hours Friday morning. As soon as you’d reached the front door to the beach house whose address Kevin had texted you, the door was pulled open and a pair of warm and strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to a muscular chest.

“Y/N! You made it!” Kevin greeted happily, his voice signaling that he had been sleeping until you’d texted him that you were in a cab on your way over. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He added.

“Hey, Kev…” You replied, a yawn slipping from your mouth as you spoke. It had been a fairly long flight but you hadn’t been able to sleep at all so now you were exhausted.

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” Kevin stated, clearly picking up on your fatigue. Walking up a set of stairs you were led into an empty bedroom, where Kevin placed the bag he’d taken from you onto the bed.

“Thanks, Kev…” You murmured, yawning once more. You watched him as Kevin draped one arm around you, pulling you into his side as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You’re welcome.” He assured you. “We don’t have any plans tomorrow so feel free to sleep in.” He insisted, pulling away from you and running his fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re actually awake.” He teased, walking across the room where he pulled your door shut behind him.

With little to no energy left in your body, you’d simply stripped down to your underwear before crawling into bed, sleep overtaking you the moment your head hit the pillow.

***

Friday had passed by in a bit of a blur...mostly because you’d spent half your day in bed. Sleeping until your body awoke naturally, it was almost 1 in the afternoon when you glanced at the clock next to your bed. Immediately your bladder signaled its needs and your stomach growled for food, so you pulled yourself out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top before slipping out of your room in search of a bathroom and then food.

The moment you’d descended down the stairs, a flurry of activity reached your ears, as did Kevin’s booming voice. You’d just reached the bottom stair when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly you were being swung around.

“She lives!” Kevin exclaimed and once he put you down you smacked him gently for scaring you.

“She needs food.” You informed him, only to have him nod and drag you to the kitchen where his mom and sister were making either a late lunch or working on the preparations for dinner. While introducing you to the women in the kitchen, Kevin poured you a bowl of cereal, placing it into your hands before disappearing.

He’d returned a moment later, his nephew in his arms and it was only then that he took a seat across from you at the small table and started chatting away, insisting on hearing about everything you’d been up to since you’d last talked.

The rest of the day was much the same, Kevin introducing you as one of his best friends to his entire family before pulling you from one thing to the other around the beach house. You’d gone swimming, played cornhole with the men, and helped his sister and sister-in-law clean up after a delicious dinner.

Though it had been a very low key day you’d learned one important thing: your attraction to Kevin grew tenfold watching him with his family.

***

Saturday morning had you up at a fairly normal time but when you’d gotten downstairs it was much quieter than it had been the previous day. You’d quickly learned from Kevin’s sister-in-law Kristen that the guys had gone to the golf course and had taken the kids with them and that Kevin had scheduled a spa day for all of the ladies, including you.

After eating a quick breakfast you’d gone to get dressed and ready to leave. It wasn’t until the group of you was in a car headed to the spa that Kevin’s sister had asked what was going on between the two of you. You’d protested, claiming that you and Kevin were just friends but it was clear that his family wasn’t buying it and honestly you couldn’t blame them. It had been one of the many reasons why you’d protested coming on this trip. This was a trip for Kevin and his family and the fact that he’d insisted you join them seemed to scream that he viewed you as more than just a friend. At the same time, as much as you wanted that to be true you knew that it wasn’t and never would be.

Eventually, Kevin’s family had dropped the inquiries about your relationship with him and instead just asked questions wanting to get to know you. It wasn’t long into your spa session before you were laughing with the ladies in Kevin’s life as you got manicures and pedicures. Your individual massage session left you feeling utterly relaxed and by the time you rejoined Kevin’s family after your facial, you were feeling completely spoiled.

It wasn’t until you were being dragged into another room and shoved into a chair to have your hair and makeup done that you realized the true spoiling was only just beginning.

Kevin was taking you out to dinner tonight.

He’d told his family that it was just because he hadn’t had the chance to spend time with you just the two of you but just like this vacation as a whole, it was starting to feel like his explanations were merely thinly veiled excuses. And while you weren’t sure how you felt about all of this, you weren’t about to turn down some time alone with Kevin as it had been months since you’d had any with him in person and not over the phone.

Arriving back at the house with your hair and makeup done professionally, you felt more beautiful than you could ever remember. Kevin had texted you that he’d be back at the house to get you in half an hour and so you rushed up to your room to change into the gorgeous sundress you’d brought with you. You’d brought it with you figuring that it could serve as a cover-up if nothing else, but now it was the only thing that was even semi-appropriate to wear out to dinner. Settling the fabric over your hips, you gazed at yourself in the mirror, smiling at the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up to go somewhere and it was a nice feeling. While you knew that you really didn’t have anyone to impress, you were hoping that you’d get a reaction out of Kevin nonetheless.

You’d just finished hyping yourself up for dinner when you heard Kevin’s booming voice calling your name. Slipping your feet back into your sandals, you started down the stairs, finding Kevin waiting for you in the entryway.

“How was golf?” You asked him, missing the look of awe on his face as he took in your appearance.

“Golf was good.” He responded, his hand drifting to your lower back. “You ready?” He asked and when you nodded, he guided you out to the rental car, helping you inside before slipping around to the driver's seat. “How was the spa? Hopefully, my family didn’t give you too much trouble?” He asked, glancing over at you while at a red light.

“It was incredible. Thank you, Kev. I feel beyond spoiled. And your family was great. I had a lot of fun.” You assured him, relaxing back into the seat of the car.

“Good.” Kevin mused. “Though you don’t have to thank me. You deserve it.” He’d added in a whisper and for a pause, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The restaurant Kevin had taken you to was gorgeous and the food was absolutely amazing. You had really missed spending time with Kevin like this and you enjoyed catching up with him. Hours had passed without you even realizing it and sadly before you knew it, it was time to return back to the house.

Arriving at the beach house, you were taken aback when you walked into the middle of an intense board game session, one which Kristen dragged you into declaring that they needed more players. It wasn’t until the early morning hours that every one trickled off to bed, a little tipsy, having spent hours laughing and carrying on.

Sliding between the sheets you thought about today’s lesson: you felt like you belonged while with Kevin’s family and maybe “just friends” was more blurred than you had thought.

***

Sunday was your last full day of vacation, your flight home scheduled for lunchtime Monday. You’d been woken up by a large body bouncing onto your bed and you groaned, shoving Kevin in the chest, still half asleep.

“C’mon Y/N...we’re spending the day on the beach.” He insisted, once again not taking no for an answer.

“Fine. Leave so I can get up and get dressed.” You murmured, having slept half nude the night before which was something you didn’t need Kevin to see.

“You have five minutes.” Kevin declared and though he didn’t say what would happen if you took longer, it was certainly implied that Kevin would drag you out of this room in whatever state of dress.

Laying in bed for another minute, you finally pulled yourself up and rummaged through your bag for your swimsuit. Sliding it on you then threw on shorts and a t-shirt before throwing your hair up in a messy bun. After grabbing sunscreen and your phone you slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs to find Kevin goofing off with his niece who was bouncing around excited to head down to the ocean.

Your day was spent in the sun and sand and waves, as you switched between working on your tan, playing with Kevin’s niece and letting Kevin drag you into the ocean. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun had begun to set. Returning to the house, the men worked on grilling up dinner while the rest of you settled into chairs surrounding a fire pit.

After enjoying dinner and changing into some actual clothes instead of a damp suit, you’d settled back into the chair, glasses of wine and bottles of beer floating around never to be emptied without being replaced. With the moon high in the sky, you enjoyed the evening with Kevin’s family, his nephew eventually being settled onto your chest, the little boy cooing as he snuggled into you.

Within ten minutes of being handed the baby, Kevin had come over and taken him from you, handing him back to his brother. Raising an eyebrow at him, you watched as he reached a hand out to you, pulling you from your seat.

“Come take a walk with me.” His words signaled that it was more of a demand than a request and though you were confused, you nodded, slipping off your sandals as you reached the beach to walk barefoot along it with him, nothing but the moonlight guiding your way.

“Kev...what’s going on?” You eventually asked him, the silence between you becoming overwhelming. Kevin didn’t stop until you had tugged on his arm, forcing him to look at you. When he did it was with eyes that were stormy and your heart picked up speed at the sight of them.

“Kev…” You repeated. “Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Kevin had never acted like this before and it was something that concerned you.

“I want to have a baby with you.” Kevin eventually spoke and your jaw dropped as you froze, just staring at him.

Eventually you found your voice again and were able to stutter out, “You what?”

“I want you to have my baby,” Kevin repeated. “You’re my best friend. My family loves you. And seeing you holding Beau. Fuck Y/N I need that.”

“Kev…” You breathed, unable to form any words other than his name with the way your head was suddenly spinning. Staring at him for a moment longer as he just stared back made it hard to breathe and after a moment you turned. “We should head back.” You said softly.

Kevin didn’t protest, instead linking his large fingers with yours as you walked, only dropping them just before reaching the eyesight of his family. Settling back into your chair you forced a smile onto your face and joined the ongoing conversation, accepting the fresh glass of wine you were offered.

Not long after, the kids were taken up to bed and the rest of the house slowly moved to follow them. Still, Kevin didn’t move from his spot and neither did you until the two of you were the only ones left out by the dying fire. Watching the flickering flames cast shadows on his face, the only thought that would come to mind was how handsome he was.

And you weren’t sure whether it was the fire, the wine, the earlier baby snuggles and playtime with Kevin’s niece, or the feelings for Kevin that you’d been suppressing for so long but something pushed you to your feet and over to stand in front of Kevin and it was only once he was looking up at you that you nodded.

“Okay.”

Without a word, Kevin nodded back, reaching up to take your hand before guiding you inside and up to his bedroom which was settled the farthest away from the bedrooms where the rest of his family was staying. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind the two of you and the lock flipped into place that Kevin pulled you close, his lips dropping down to yours as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist.

Everything after that felt like it happened in slow motion. Kevin’s hands were so gentle as he stripped you out of your clothing before lifting and gently laying you back on his bed. His accent was heavy as he slowly murmured about how much this meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how he couldn’t wait to see your body swell with his child. His touch and his kisses were slow and lingered, working your body close to the edge of orgasm not once but twice before finally making you fall apart. It was only then that Kevin pressed inside of you, his mouth silencing your screams as you cried out for him. The sound of your bodies rocking against each other was the only thing filling your ear until Kevin hissed and grunted and suddenly you were filled with a warmth as he spilled inside of you.

Sleep followed not long after but it wasn’t until you stirred early the next morning that you realized your next lesson of this trip: that you had made a massive mistake.

***

Tears formed in your eyes as you slid from Kevin’s arms and worked on silently gathering your clothes. After stopping to use the bathroom, you slid back into your room closing the door behind you. It was only then that you really started to cry as you worked to throw on proper clothes before packing your bag up to head home.

It wasn’t like you were going to leave before talking to Kevin, but...knowing that said conversation was likely going to turn into a fight, well, you wanted to be able to make a quick escape if need be.

Your stomach twisted as you made your way downstairs, and you forced a smile onto your face as you sat down to eat the eggs that Kevin’s mom was making. Hearing Kevin’s footsteps on the stairs, you got up to intercept him, pulling him outside.

“We need to talk.” You murmured, watching as Kevin eyed you anxiously.

“Okay.” He conceded, sitting down on the front porch step of the beach house.

“Last night was a mistake.” You started and immediately Kevin opened his mouth to protest, an action which you stopped with a shake of your head. “Kevin I’m sorry but it was. I can’t have a baby with you.” You whispered, afraid that someone would overhear you. “I was overwhelmed by the mood of vacation, the moon, the fire, the alcohol, you...but none of that is real Kev. What’s real is that I’m going back to Boston today and you’re going back to Philly and this…” You gestured between the two of you. “This won’t work. And it certainly wouldn’t be fair to even think about bringing a baby into.” It hurt you to see Kevin’s shoulders slump, but this was something that had to be said.

“Y/N please...we could make it work.” Kevin murmured and you shook your head, tears prickling in your eyes.

“No. No, we couldn’t.” You insisted, moving to head back inside. “I’m sorry Kev...but I’m gonna grab my bag and go to the airport. Thank you for everything.” As you started to walk past him, Kevin reached out catching just the tips of your fingers.

“Why?” The word slipped from his mouth without further context and you tugged your hand away from him, brushing the tears from your face.

“Because you don’t love me the way that I love you.”

Once back in the house, you grabbed your things before stopping to say a quick goodbye to the rest of Kevin’s family, making an excuse as to why you needed to leave for the airport early. You had a feeling they knew that something was up, but no one said anything and you thankfully didn’t see Kevin again before climbing into a cab. Your heart ached because last night had been so perfect. The problem was that it wasn’t real and you needed something that could be real. Sadly perfect….perfect wasn’t real.

_____

The steady tic tic tic of the kitchen timer finally sounded, causing you to jump. A glance over at Kristen revealed a concerned but supportive look as she nodded at you. You hadn’t known where else to turn, but you couldn’t do this on your own. You weren’t sure if she knew the details of what had happened or not, but the moment you had messaged her asking for her help she was quick to assure you that you had it. It had been six weeks since you got on a plane and left Kevin behind. Six weeks without a peep from him and you knew it was your fault. All of this was your fault.

“It’s time to look Y/N.” She whispered. “Take a few deep breaths.” She added, her hand rubbing over your back as you tried to get the courage to flip over the tiny plastic sticks. “Here. Hold my hand.” She insisted. With her strength flowing through your joined hands you took one final breath before reaching over to the coffee table and turning each of the three sticks in turn.

‘Pregnant.’

‘+ ‘

And two pink lines.

It had been one night. One mistake. And now you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You were having Kevin Hayes’s baby.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #philadelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #kevin hayes nws #nws #lemon #027 #pflyers

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karasuno-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

In His Orbit (Nishinoya x Reader)

On a lovely day in Nice, France, you reflect on the past few months and the many reasons you love your boyfriend.

I came sooo close to putting Noya in a flower crown for this. Maybe next time.😆 -Giz

Word Count: 1,974

The market was busy, though it was still early in the morning. Vendors were rearranging pallets into shoppable displays, piling produce into cascades of color, already calling to each other and the few early shoppers who, like you, were wandering between the stalls. You loved the energy here. Even though they had a long day ahead, everyone was buzzing with caffeine and adrenaline.

A year ago, you never would have guessed that you’d be in Nice, France at the famous Cours Saleya market. You’d always thought you weren’t impulsive enough to travel the world with nothing but adventure to guide you. It sounded unpredictable and impossible. But you’d fallen in love with a wanderer whose thirst for excitement had pulled you across the world, and you’d never been happier.

You purchased a small container of raspberries and ate a few while you wandered between the stalls. The fruit season would be ending soon, but the berries were still deliciously tart. You took note of certain goods to come back for later before ducking out of the market to a side street. You’d noticed a little cafe during your first passage through the stalls, and you were craving some caffeine.

A few minutes later you returned to the market balancing two drinks and the raspberries. You could already tell there were more people, even though the crowds were nowhere near what they would be during peak hours that afternoon. The Cours Saleya was rather touristy, but in many ways, you were a tourist yourself. You’d been helping on a flower farm just west of the city for only two weeks, so much of the city was new. You were excited to explore this corner of the world.

You managed to make it to the other end of the market without dropping anything. You loved this part of the Cours Saleya. While the food vendors were enticing, the truly unique magic of the market was the flower sellers. The buckets and bundles of colorful blooms brought the charm of country fields into the city. Their simple beauty was something you had come to view as quintessentially French, and the dazzling variety of colors and aromas meant there was always more to see.

You headed to the stall with the rustic orange buckets. A kaleidoscope of blooms burst from the displays, barely contained by the careful arrangements of the vendors. They’d almost finished setting up, so you didn’t feel too guilty for ditching them to scope out the market. You’d put in your time to help as customers came, assembling bouquets and refilling the displays as needed. Even though you barely knew any French, the languages of commerce and flowers were easy enough to translate.

“Y/N’s back!” one of the men at the stall announced. Rin and his wife Chizuru had moved to France five years ago after falling in love with the French way of life. Both had grown up in Hyogo on farms, so buying up a flower farm outside of Nice had been a natural transition for them. You’d met last month in Spain while they were on vacation and you and your boyfriend were working at a futbol stadium. You’d hit it off right away, and when they’d invited you to their farm, you’d readily accepted.

“Need a hand with anything?” you asked.

“Nah, we’re pretty much set. Nishinoya’s just grabbing the last of the daisies.”

As if summoned by his name, your boyfriend appeared carrying a bucket bursting with daisies. He set it down in line with the other flowers as though it weighed nothing, though you knew firsthand how heavy the buckets were when full. He adjusted the blooms a bit so they looked welcoming to customers, stepping back to cast a critical eye over the display as a whole before giving a satisfied nod. Only then did he turn his attention away and notice that you were back.

“Find anything good?” he asked, face breaking into a smile like sunshine.

“I’ve got coffee and raspberries.” You handed him the drink you’d ordered for him, and he took it along with a handful of berries.

“Thanks babe.” He kissed your cheek in appreciation before popping a raspberry into his mouth.

“The stall looks really good. I think we might be the only vendor with so many lilies left.”

“The greenhouses were worth the investment,” Chizuru agreed, arriving with the cash box and little folding table that you’d keep out of reach of customers, “though the crop this year has been great in general.”

“All right!” Nishinoya cheered. “We’re going to sell a ton of flowers today!”

You smiled as your boyfriend got psyched up. His energy was infectious, and his dedication to the task at hand never ceased to inspire you. It was just one of the many things you loved about him.

You barely had time to finish your coffee before a steady stream of customers was keeping all of you busy. Many simply admired the blooms as they passed, but you knew that quite a few would come back later after perusing the rest of the market. After all, why come to the Cours Saleya if not for the flowers?

The weather was nice, and the crowd steadily grew as you headed towards the afternoon. You were grateful for the caffeine and reinforcements as other farmhands arrived around ten o’clock. It was exciting to be consistently busy, and you felt part of a team even though you’d just started working with these people. It was a privilege to be a vendor at this famous market, and you were proud to see the culmination of your work in the fields as you bundled bouquets and trimmed stems for shoppers.

You also loved working with your boyfriend and watching him rise to the challenge. You’d always admired his work ethic. When he was committed, he couldn’t be satisfied with doing things halfway. He constantly challenged himself. Sometimes you wondered if he ever got tired of the hustle, but he was always looking toward the next adventure.

You’d been surprised when he’d asked you to travel with him after graduation. You’d started dating halfway through your third year at Karasuno, and while you had no doubts about your feelings for each other, you hadn’t considered tagging along on his world tour when it was still pretty early in your relationship. You should have expected that he’d already worked you into his future plans. After all, he never did things halfway, and that included giving his heart to you.

These past few months had been some of the best of your life. You’d discovered so much about the world, about Nishinoya, and about yourself. Not knowing what you’d be doing next month could be challenging, but you were learning that not having everything planned out could be exciting, too. Liberating, even. And your boyfriend kept it fun. You were really glad you’d decided to join him on his travels.

“Here.” You offered him a chilled water bottle as you sat in the back of the transport truck a few blocks from the market. He gave you a sandwich in exchange, the bread fresh and the meat sliced as you’d watched by one of the vendors in the market. Everything seemed to taste better when you knew the people making it cared about the quality of the ingredients.

You savored the first few bites of your lunch in silence. You’d been busy nonstop nearly all morning, and you welcomed the chance to sit down for a bit. The weather had warmed as the sun arced through the sky, but it remained comfortably mild. It really was a lovely day to be outside surrounded by flowers.

“I think we might sell out again,” Nishinoya observed, crumpling the paper wrapping of his sandwich into a ball. The rate at which he ate never ceased to amaze you. “That’ll be two weekends in a row!”

“No doubt it’s due to your charming salesmanship,” you mused with a grin.

He laughed appreciatively. He attracted people like the sun pulled on the planets, and his easy-going straightforwardness meant he got along with almost everyone. Even if your compliment had been partially in jest, you wouldn’t be surprised if his bright smile and enthusiasm were drawing people to the stall.

“I think it’s the flowers,” he deflected, picking up a bloom that had fallen out of a bucket. “Rin and Chizuru’s farm is amazing.”

“Thinking of buying up a French flower farm yourself?”

He laughed again, and you thought that you could listen to that sound forever and never get tired of it.

“No way, it’s way too complicated. I’d have to remember when to plant and harvest and water and fertilize, and then there’s all of the budgeting and hiring and way too much planning. I can’t keep track of all of that! You could probably do it, Y/N. If you wanted to, I’d be your best farmhand ever.”

He tucked the flower behind your ear, and you couldn’t help the light blush that dusted your cheeks. You knew Nishinoya meant what he said. He never spoke without conviction in his words. If you really wanted to buy a farm and settle down, he’d support you and help you. He really would be the best farmhand ever. But you wondered if he’d really be happy, being tied to one place when there was still a whole world to explore. Would he tire of perfecting flower patches and grow to resent your choice? Could he ever settle and be content in one place?

He was looking at you intently, smile undimmed, and you decided that you didn’t want him to settle. Certainly not for yourself. Someday perhaps you would tire of the travel and adventure, and then you would broach the subject of finding something more permanent. You weren’t ready to ask that of him yet. He was still blazing across the sky, and you were pulled along in his wake. For now, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That sounds like too much for me, too. Besides, there’s still a lot to see, right?”

“Right! We’re going to conquer the world together.”

“Let’s just focus on conquering the market today,” you chuckled, standing in the truck bed to grab a few buckets of flowers. You’d need to refill the displays when you got back.

Your boyfriend surprised you by leaping into the truck bed and nearly tackling you from behind with a hug. You laughed as he gave you a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, babe.”

“For what?”

“For coming with me.”

He said it like it was the simplest thing, his focus already turning to the buckets of flowers. Warmth bloomed in your chest. You’d follow him wherever he wanted to go. You just couldn’t stay away. Your universe wasn’t complete without its sun.

“Hey.”

He turned, and you surprised him by capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Yuu.”

“I love you, too,” he promised with softened eyes and a look of devotion he saved only for you, and for a moment, you thought you knew how the moon felt when she was set aglow with the sun’s reflection. You kissed him once more before hopping out of the truck and hefting a bucket of flowers in your arms.

“Come on, let’s go charm some shoppers so we can sell out and get the rest of the afternoon off.”

“What, did you have plans for today?”

“Nothing particular, but we haven’t done much sightseeing since we got here. I figured we could wander around a bit and find something fun to do.”

“Sounds good to me!” he agreed, and you knew that whatever you ended up doing, he would make it an adventure for both of you.

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mybiasisexo · 4 years ago

Text

Oh, Brother

Genre: Angst | Fluff | College!au

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Length: 7.5k

Warning: Unfinished | Language | Love Triangle (I know, but hear me out!!)

Summary: You’ve finally started college and are getting the full freshman year teen romcom experience and it’s not as great as you though it would be, but a certain ballerina (ballerino? I googled it and its ballerino in Italian [quote unquote] but in French they are a danseur and im rambling) might be the calmness you’ve been needing...that is until you meet his brother....

Author’s Note: I plan on turning this into a scenario??? Question marks cause idk if I want to turn it into a chaptered fic instead??? Anyways I wrote this back in like 2014 so its kinda dated but it is what it is yall.

MASTERLIST

credit

With the arrival of the bell came the flood.

You got caught in it. Dragged into the depths of the sea that was the main hall. You grunted and fought against the current, as students barged their way past you, slamming roughly against your shoulders as you clutched onto your books for dear life.

It seemed never-ending, it actually felt like you were moving backwards as more and more people rushed, trying in vain to arrive to their next class on time.

You didn’t think that college would be like this.

You thought it would be peaceful and calm, like a pond or a small lake.

Not the damn sea during a hurricane.

It was probably because it was the first day, and everyone was still trying to catch their bearings. Or because this hall was seriously the most used and classes held up to two hundred people. Whatever the reason, you felt a sudden panic attack crawling up your throat like a corpse clawing out of the grave. You knew that very soon you would lose it, and so you began to count in your head to calm yourself down.

“I…2…3…4—” push “—5…6—” shove “—7…..8….9….”

Before you could lose your cool, you broke the surface and felt the cold wind snap deliciously against your damp face. You closed your eyes and sighed with relief as you realized that you had won.

You battled against the human sea and you beat it victoriously.

But could you deal with that every other day?

You shuddered as the thought hit you and decided to ignore it for the meantime. You had to admit, despite that near death journey you had just trekked, your first day as a college student wasn’t as bad as you—and your parents, not to mention your little sister—had imagined. Today was Monday, and on Mondays, you had three classes: English 1102, Math 1143, and Introduction to Art.

You had just left the math department and now had a couple hours to kill before your last class.

You decided to call your best friend, Suho, and see if he had escaped his side of campus.

“Hello?” He answered happily—did he have any other emotion?

“I nearly died just now. This hallway is lethal, I don’t know if I’ll make it.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it out alive. When does your next class start?”

“In two hours. Wanna get lunch?”

“Absolutely, I’m starving. Meet me at the Student Union building?”

“Okay, see you then.” You hung up and tried your hardest to recall just where exactly the Student Union building was located.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you stumbled upon the holy land. You found Suho almost immediately and rushed over to his table.

“What took you so long?” He wondered, munching on a fry.

You plopped down in the seat across from him and let out an exhausted breath, “I forgot how to get here. I had to backtrack like four different times.”

He sighed, “You could have called me, I would have helped you.”

“I’m aware,” you dismissed, stealing a fry from his tray. He frowned, but didn’t do anything to stop you from stealing another one.

“It’s the first day, and I’m already beat,” you muttered after you had returned to the table after leaving him briefly to buy a cold sandwich, a bag of salty chips, and a bottle of green tea.

“And it’s not even over yet,” Suho reminded you with a smile on his face.

“Can you not? I don’t want to think about that just yet.”

“At least it’s art. You can unwind in your last class. My last class is Physics, there is no unwinding in physics.”

“You’re smart, you can literally handle anything.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied you. Once he caught your attention, you stuck your tongue out at him and drained your drink, smacking your lips obnoxiously when you were done.

“it’s a wonder we’re even friends,” he mused aloud around his sandwich.

You shrugged, “you still have time to run.”

He grinned, not missing a beat, “I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

You held out your semi-empty plastic bottle, “I’ll drink to that.”

He chuckled and lifted his own soda can, your drinks clinking exotically together, confirming your status as best friends for life.

Which Suho was. The two of you had known each other since you were five. Your fathers were childhood friends that lost contact after college, but somehow—when the two of you were five—reunited and stuck to each other like glue. Even opening their own music store together. Kim Junmyeon, who was lovingly addressed as Suho, and you grew up at the music store, learning how to play different instruments as well as the ropes to owning a business, and the chemistry between your fathers ultimately rubbed off onto you, causing yet another family-like bond.

“You are taking piano, aren’t you?” You asked him a few minutes later.

His attitude shifted instantly as his smile faltered a tad. It was barely noticeable, but you could read this young man in front of you like a book.

“Junmyeon,” You said warningly, using his real name to show how serious you were.

He sighed, “I want to. I just… so much is already on my plate, and I didn’t want to burden my parents with another credit and…”

“And you just didn’t want to,” You finished for him. You lowered your voice, “I thought you liked music.”

“Of course I do, but that’s something our fathers love. Music is their dream, not ours.”

You pouted. He was right, even you weren’t taking any classes related to music, but you were still planning on practicing the viola on your own time. Music was in your blood, it was just as unavoidable as Suho. You didn’t know what life would be like without it, and quite frankly, you didn’t want a life without it.

Suho adored music more than you did. When his father first taught him how to play the piano, he had to be forcefully removed from the bench. There was nowhere else he would rather be, and as he grew, so did his talent. He was so talented, that he won many competitions, and even wrote compositions for many popular songs heard on the radio today.

He was a prodigy.

You? Well, you just liked to play. You were nowhere near as good as Suho, despite the many things he had told you, and you knew that and was fine with it. For you, it didn’t matter if you won or lost, as long as you got to play. You learned how to play the guitar, clarinet, drums, and even the piano, but nothing called to you like the viola. It was an extension of yourself, and Suho once said that when you played, people could tell you transported into a different realm. You were in your own little universe, and would only return once the piece was finished.

“It can be both, couldn’t it? You play so well…” You could tell Suho felt uncomfortable and would rather not discuss the matter anymore, so you just let your sentence carry. Instead, talking about everything else and nothing for the rest of your time together. “Well, my class is about to start in ten minutes. Luckily, I know where the art building is. I’ve only been going there since I was twelve.”

You tried to laugh, but got nothing out of Suho. His smile still plastered on his face, but his eyes dull as he pulled himself up and collected your trash, throwing it in the trashcan and following you out into the crisp fall air.

The art building was very hard to miss. It was one of the bigger buildings because the college you attended focused mostly on the arts, and was painted a bright blue, while every other building was a tan brick color.

“Paint me something nice, alright?” Suho said once you both stopped outside the doors of the building.

You rolled your eyes, “You know I suck at painting, Su, I’m more of a charcoal person.”

He shrugged, “I still want a painting. Charcoal is so boring.”

You smacked his shoulder, “go. Before I lose my temper.”

He laughed and held his arms up in surrender, “We wouldn’t want that now would we?”

He sauntered away and left you to stare up at the intimidating building. Hesitantly, you pried the glass door open and scuttled into the structure. Noise overwhelmed you. You could hear many people tuning their instruments, and the noise of a teacher counting and the soft thud of footsteps. If you listened harder, you could faintly make out people singing.

It was beautiful.

The cacophony of sound settled around you in a somewhat numbing hum, beckoning you to walk even deeper within the building. Almost all the doors were open and you peered into each one, loving everything that you saw. A chubby boy wailing away on his trombone. A lanky boy with a mop top and a short thick girl with glasses singing a duet. What appeared to be an African dance class. A trio practicing on their violins. A boy twirling about in an empty dance room.

You paused once you glanced inside the dance room. He was doing barrel turns across the room, and when he reached the end, he pirouetted for what seemed like a long time, stopping smoothly with one foot resting in back of him and his arms held out in the perfect stance.

He was breathing hard as he dropped his position and ran his fingers through his dark hair, dragging the strands away from his face, only for them to return. He must have felt your stare, because he suddenly swiveled his head to meet you eyes.

He was gorgeous, to put it simply. He had slightly tan skin and perfectly shaped almond brown eyes and a straight nose, and lips that seemed to be the center of his face. He looked almost ethereal as he attempted to catch his breath and sweat slid alluringly down his lean frame and his eyes remained on you.

“Lost?” He asked. His tone wasn’t mocking, simply curious.

His voice was just as lovely as his features. You shook your head, “Just looking around.”

He walked up to the mirror where a drawstring backpack laid, and pulled a small towel out of it, wrapping it around his neck, “class starts pretty soon, doesn’t it? You might be late,”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s so easy to get distracted in this building. There’s so much going on.”

“First day?” He asked with an understanding nod of his head.

You returned the nod with a rushed one of your own, “I’m in sensory overload at the moment.”

“Happens to all of us.”

He turned around and headed back to the corner of the room. You stared at his retreating frame for a moment and then decided it was time to leave. “See you around then.”

He turned his head so that you could see the outline of his nose and raised a hand, “see you.”

You had to forcefully remove yourself from the doorway, and practically run to your classroom, making it in with thirty seconds to spare.

~*~

After your last class was finished, you headed over to the dorms.

You still could not believe you were actually living on your own, away from your parents and sister. And as you stepped into your new home, you couldn’t help but grin.

It was small, but cozy. With a living room that held a couch, there was one bedroom that your roommate and you would be sharing and you got your own bathroom which was nice.

You noticed that your bedroom door was open and you could faintly make out a voice coming from within. It appeared your roommate was in. You hadn’t met her yet, and was nervous. Would you like her? Would she like you? You carefully tiptoed towards the door and paused in the threshold. She was singing under her breath and it was beautiful. The words did not sound very familiar to you, but her voice was so lovely, you found myself creating notes to accompany her with in you head.

Finally, you grew the courage to gently knock on the wall and peek your head in.

She was sitting at a white vanity she must had brought with her, and was clipping something into her jaw length black hair. She spun around quickly, startled.

Once you were facing each other, you carefully examined the other. She was gorgeous, but seemed a bit rebellious with her black lace clothing and scruffy boots. With the light from the window on her hair, you spotted green and blue highlights in it. Her eyes were covered in kohl and her lips were set in a hard line, but you noticed the tips curled slightly in a mischievous grin.

After your slight stare down, she held out her hand, “Park Sunyoung. But I go by Luna.”

You smiled and marched in to shake her hand and introduced yourself as well.

“Like what I’ve done with the place?” She smirked, spinning around to face the mirror again.

The room was placed in such a way that each half was your own. Her side was crowded. The white walls were covered with posters. You spotted both movies and boy and girl groups respectively. She had a purple fluffy mat on the wooden floor, and clothes were strung there and about. She also placed a flat screen television on a dresser that she pushed in the middle of a wall so that it was between your beds.

You glanced at your side, You had only put sheets on your bed, leaned your viola case against the wall, and tossed your suitcases on your bed. It was—and would still be once you finished unpacking—bare compared to hers.

You nodded your head, “you just moved in?”

She nodded her head also. “Bout to grab a bite to eat. Wanna come?”

You bit your lip. You wanted to unpack and maybe practice your instrument for a while, but the need to make friends overwhelmed you, especially a girlfriend. “Sure.”

You watched as Luna hopped off her chair and grabbed a black homburg hat before snatching your wrist and dragging you out of your room.

You entered the cafeteria five minutes later, the building was bustling with life and you couldn’t help but to search around, looking at your fellow schoolmates.

There were a bunch of different stores to choose from, and after watching Luna tap her chin while glaring at each station, you both finally decide on Chinese. You grabbed your plates and then Luna pulled out her phone, dialing a number before she pressed it to her ear.

“Yah! Where are you?” She laughed. Your eyes widened. You were not planning on meeting other people. “I can’t see you! Oh! By the taco station? Mmm… Okay, on my way.” She hung up and glanced at you, tilting her head in the direction she was heading before walking off. You quickly tried to match her pace. You arrived at a round table with seven chairs and two girls sitting there in comfortable silence.

“Hey!” Luna sang as she pulled a chair next to one of them, you quickly followed suite.

The girl next to Luna had brown hair that she had cut really short, a pixie cut. While the girl beside her had straight black hair that cascaded down her body. The one with the pixie cut was sporting a guy tank top and khakis while the one beside her was wearing a black and white stripped dress and blood red lipstick.

“Who’s the stranger?” The girl next to Luna asked, studying you.

“This is my roommate,” Luna beamed with pride and you smiled shyly as she introduced you. “This is my cousin Victoria and our friend, Amber.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted.

“Are you a freshman like Luna?” Amber asked, giving you her full attention.

You nodded, “what grade are you in?”

“We’re both juniors,” Victoria supplied, taking a giant bite of her food.

“So… how was your first day?” Amber asked Luna, who rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I guess. All I had were generals today. I can’t wait till my fun classes begin.”

“Are you, by any chance, in choir?” You asked.

She stared at you with wide eyes, “oh god, no! What makes you think that!?”

“Well,” you began nervously. “I heard you singing when I entered the room…”

“Oh~~” The three nodded.

“I do love singing,” Luna informed somewhat sheepishly. “I just…”

“She just doesn’t like to do things when told to do them.” A girl who just walked up to the table finished for Luna, pulling the chair next to Victoria out and unceremoniously plopping down. She was tall and skinny and had long blonde hair. Just like Luna, she was wearing dark clothes and makeup, her expression unimpressed.

Another girl who was the polar opposite took a seat beside her. She had reddish-brown hair that went down to her collarbones and was wearing a pink skirt and shirt and a genuine bright smile. She instantly reminded you of Suho.

“Shut up, Krystal,” Luna barked.

“Make me,” the Krystal girl retorted, sticking her tongue out.

“Choir is just so stuffy,” Luna defended herself. “You have to sing three octaves higher than you normally do, have to wear hideous outfits, and have to move your mouth like this,” she began to open and close her mouth in a way that resembled a fish. “It’s horrible.”

“Plus, she never goes to class, so she’d probably get dropped,” Krystal grinned wickedly at Luna.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?!” The two began to bicker, and you locked eyes with the bright girl next to Krystal who was looking at you.

“What is your name?” She asked. You told her and asked for hers in return. “I’m Sulli. Sorry about my friends. They tend to not have manners.”

“I heard that!” Krystal screeched and smacked Sulli’s shoulder, causing her to wince. She then turned her gaze to you. “I’m not that bad, really. I’m Krystal, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her and she boldly held out her hand for you to shake. Her hand was very soft.

“Are you a freshman?” She asked and you nodded your head. “Cool. So are Sulli and me. Are you Luna’s roommate?”

“Yes she is, so can you stop asking so many questions?” Luna asked, exasperated.

Krystal shrugged, sniffing a cup of fruit, “just curious. I’m surprised you’d invite her along. I know how much you hate new people.”

“I don’t—”

“YES YOU DO!” The four interrupted Luna, causing the whole table to laugh.

“You all suck,” Luna pouted, but a smile tugged on her lips.

“Welcome to our crew,” Victoria said to me, holding up a bottle of apple juice. You lifted your own drink and you all chugged the liquid.

It tasted like a long friendship.

~*~

Back in your room, all unpacked and exhausted, you laid on your bed. Luna was taking her last class of the day, which was at eight, and she wasn’t very excited about that, so you had the place to yourself. You wanted to play your viola, but was so tired, you couldn’t budge.

Vibrating caught your attention and you groaned as you felt around for your phone. Once found, you answered it without bothering to check caller I.D.

“I take it you’ve already eaten?” Suho asked you from the other end.

You grinned, “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you aren’t harassing me about how you will die any second if you don’t get any food in you soon.”

You sighed, “You know me so well.”

“That’s why I hold the title of best friend.”

“Sorry. Are you hungry?”

“Kind of.”

“Did you just finish your last class?”

He was silent for a second, “no. I, uh, finished it a while ago.”

“Well why didn’t you call me then?”

“I was…distracted. Come down. I’m at your dorm.”

“But, Suho!”

“You shouldn’t have unpacked all at once. That’s your fault. Hurry!”

He hung up and you had no choice but to get your lazy butt up and head downstairs.

He was outside the building, leaning against the cool brick.

“What is the rush?” You asked once you spotted him.

“It’s the first week of school, there is so much we could do!”

“Like…?”

“Like visit the art building and watch people.”

Your eyes brightened and you hurriedly pushed Suho, he laughed at your eagerness and you headed over to your favorite building.

“I should have brought my instrument,” you pouted as the doors opened.

Suho shook his head and you entered the first room you found.

There were a couple kids acting in this one. You watched for a minute, but you both knew which rooms you wanted to really be at.

“Let’s just go to the music room,” You ordered. You started running down the familiar halls, eager to enter the one room you had been in over the years.

Suho continued walking, and you wondered if it was because he didn’t want to go to this room after all.

You entered the room and took a deep breath, smiling widely as you were surrounded by all the instruments. You were in the string room, and you bowed to the professor before heading over to decide which instrument to play.

There were a few kids there in a small circle with guitars on laps, so you picked up an acoustic guitar and joined them.

You quietly tuned your instrument as two of the other boys were playing off each other. The music was very bluesy and you nodded along as they continued.

All music stopped and you heard a few gasps. Suho must have entered. You turned to verify his presence and tried not to laugh at his awkward smile. He hated the attention. Anybody who considered themselves piano players knew who Suho was, and anybody in this area who was aware of music knew who he was as well. He was kind of a big deal.

“Please, continue,” Suho said, motioning for the two boys to play. They stared at him instead, either too nervous or starstruck. With a sigh, you held your guitar on your lap and began to play a song you had made up a few years ago. The people around the room blinked over at you, distracted from Suho, which you knew he was grateful. You felt him sit down beside you, but you ignored him and continued playing. Your fingers gliding confidently over the strings.

“You think she’s good at this,” You heard Suho say. “You should see her play the viola.”

You missed a note and lost your train of thought as laughter bubbled up your throat.

“Please stop, Suho,” you chuckled, finishing the song quickly. Once you were done, everyone in the room applauded and you bowed your thanks and Suho and you sat silently and listened to the others play for a while.

“Should we go now?” he whispered in your ear after about twenty minutes and you nodded. You both got up and bowed to everyone before heading out.

“That was nice,” you grinned up at your best friend, his hands in his pockets and his smile somewhat strained.

“Uh… yeah, nice…”

You laughed, “You hated every waking minute of it.”

“No!” He quickly defended. “I just… you know I hate it when people treat me like that.”

“Like a celebrity?”

He sighed, “I hate that word.”

“But, I mean, you kind of are a celebrity, Suho.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, “don’t say that!”

You laughed again and dragged him out of the hall. On your way out, you passed the dance room, and you glanced into the empty room. You were somewhat disappointed to see how lifeless it was in there compared to earlier today….

~*~

Your first week went by smoothly. You hung out quite a bit with Luna and her friends and only got lost once. Suho and your schedules did not align very well, and you rarely got to see each other, which frustrated both of you, but you made time—as little as it was—to hang out at least once a day.

It was Monday again, and after a semi stressful weekend, you were looking forward to another week of college.

Your alarm went off and you chuckled as Luna groaned and tossed in her bed, “turn that off!”

She threw a pillow in your direction and you turned the alarm off, and with a whispered ‘goodbye’ you left for your first class.

After your math class ended, and you had once again fought against the ten o’clock rush, you decided to head over to the art building early to goof off for a bit and kill time.

You found yourself pausing in front of that damned dance room again. The door was closed, but you could hear the faint thud of bass coming from the speakers within, and you just knew that man from last week was in there. After a bit of hesitation, you finally pried the door open.

He was there alright. Wearing cut offs and a black wife beater. He was stretching on the center of the floor, leaning against one leg as the music played on. When he lifted his upper body he noticed you, “you’re back.”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy or annoyed by the fact, but you smiled at him anyway, “I told you I’d see you later.”

He laughed once under his breath and shook his head faintly.

“Mind if I watch?”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

You deflated, “or…not.”

As you began taking a step back he let out a breath, “no! Wait.”

You glanced at him expectantly and he sighed, “You can stay if you want.”

You beamed and came all the way into the room, closing the door solidly behind you. You sat against the mirror and pulled your legs up to your chin.

“It’s nothing much,” the beautiful boy began. “I’m just going to be doing some stretches and going over some routines….”

“That’s fine,” You encouraged and he paused before nodding his head self-consciously.

After fifteen minutes of warming up, he began to dance. You knew he was not going full out, but even still he was captivating. He moved effortlessly, almost as if he were bored, and he made every move seem easy, although you knew it was anything but.

At one moment he attempted a leap, but couldn’t land right. He groaned with frustration, “I can’t get this jump right.”

You perked up, with him talking for the first time in thirty minutes. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, eyeing himself in the mirror.

“I don’t even know why it is so difficult for me, but I just can’t get it. The teacher told me I was landing too hard but what does that even mean?”

You blinked at him and were silent for a moment. Finally you worked up the courage to speak, “may—maybe you can demonstrate it again? I’ll watch and see if I can spot the problem?”

His eyes flickered to yours questioningly, “you dance?”

“Uh… no, but I’m sure I’d notice if you weren’t landing right.”

He thought about it for a second, but must have seen there was no harm in it because he shrugged and started the music up again.

You watched him as he twirled around the room before going for the leap. He was flawless in the air, but once his foot came down, he was a stumbling mess. He had to hold his arms out to catch his balance and you figured out the problem.

“You’re not distributing your weight properly,” You informed him once he was at a standstill. “You put all your weight on the leg you’re landing on when you need to put it on both.”

“How do I go about doing that?” He asked, twirling the lid off of his water and chugging half the bottle.

“As soon as your foot touches the ground, stretch out your back leg and lift your arms higher.”

The dancer’s eyes wandered above him for a minute, probably imagining the actions he had to take, and then he put his water down and started the music again.

When it got to the troubling leap, you held your breath. He was up, up, up and then he came down. His foot touched the floor and he seemed to spring higher as he flexed his legs and raised his arms, not even wobbling.

“Perfect landing,” you breathed with a grin as he continued on with the choreography. You couldn’t help but to notice how dazzling his face looked graced with that triumphant smile that seemed nearly blinding.

He was now going all out, as if he were performing on a stage, and your heart was in your throat.

You had seen a lot of beautiful things. Watching your father play the trombone, watching Suho play the piano, listening to one of your friends, Yuri, sing, but this fellow in front of you took passion to another level.

Tears began to obstruct your vision as you watched him reach towards the heavens with every jump. Every flex of a muscle seemed to be a part of a story only he knew how to tell, but the story was magnificent and you could not look away.

It ended with him pirouetting before landing on one knee, an arm stretched towards you.

The music ended and the only thing that could be heard was his hard breathing.

“That… that was beautiful.” Beautiful could not cover base to how life altering watching him perform was. He was beyond that, he was something no word could yet define.

“Thank you,” he grinned and bowed humbly.

“No, I’m… I’m serious. I don’t think I have ever seen anything that passionate before in my entire life, and my father lives and breathes music. You are truly talented.”

You watched him bite his lip and scratch the back of his head before repeating, “thank you.”

“No, thank you,” That sounded so cheesy out loud, but you really wanted to thank him for showing you that. You wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes and laughed at yourself, “I swear I don’t usually cry watching people dance. Only if I’m moved enough.”

“I moved you?” He asked. You noticed the teasing tone in his voice, but also surprise, as if he didn’t believe he was that good.

“To tears,” You confirmed, holding your hands out to show him the salty wetness on them.

“Thank you,” he repeated yet again, and you blinked up at him.

“For what?”

“For helping me with that turn. Also for letting me know just how good I am. Sometimes you need other people besides those who are always telling you to realize your potential, you know?”

“Absolutely. I definitely understand. I remember when I was first learning how to play the viola, and my father was constantly telling me how good I was, but I felt like I wasn’t adequate. It took my best friend to finally make me realize that maybe I was worthy of the instrument.”

The sweaty ballerina just stared at you for a moment, and you grew embarrassed. Were you talking too much? You were definitely talking too much. This is why you only had two friends growing up.

“You can come watch me practice whenever you want,” he suddenly allowed. His smile grew at your shocked expression. “I realize now I enjoy the company, and you can probably help me on some things. So… whenever you want, if I’m here, don’t be shy.”

He said all of that without even glancing at you, but you could tell the sincerity in his voice. Plus, you found it endearing how he dug the ground with his toes.

It was your turn to repeat yourself, “thank you.”

~*~

You ran all the way to your dorm after art, eager to get this off your chest.

You felt kind of bad that Suho wasn’t the person you wanted to talk to about the matter, but this was strictly a girl thing, and you knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Luna!” You practically screeched when you finally slammed the door to your bedroom open, scaring the living daylights out of your roommate.

“Jesus!” she cried, throwing the magazine she was peacefully reading on her bed onto the floor. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“I’m in like,” You breathed, falling unto your bed with a longing sigh.

“In like?” she questioned.

“Yes. With a beautiful ballerina.”

“Ballerina?”

“It’s a guy,” you clarified, rising up to meet Luna’s gaze. She was grinning from ear to ear, leaning in closer.

“Well, spill it!”

You told her about the mystery dancer who just so happened to be drop dead gorgeous and wanted your company.

“Wow, that is so romantic! What is his name? Maybe I know him.”

“It’s…” Your smile melted off with the realization that you in fact had no name for the face you most definitely would be dreaming of later tonight.

“You don’t know?” Luna’s eyes widened and than she gasped, “that’s even more romantic! It’s like Cinderella! Does he know yours?”

You shook your head and she threw a pillow up in the air. It hit the ceiling before landing on the floor behind her, next to her long forgotten magazine. “Oh my god! The two of you are so mysterious! That is so hot.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. You’ve grown quite close to Luna this past week; she was someone you really needed in your life.

“You have to keep me posted on the development on your unfolding love story. And don’t forget who was there in the beginning when you have to pick a maid of honor for your wedding!”

“Oh, I will def keep you up to date.”

~*~

Sadly, there was nothing to report back to Luna.

Classes started to add pressure the rest of the week, and you were so swamped in schoolwork, that you had no time to eat a normal meal, let alone watch someone dance for a couple hours. you even had a test in art!

When Friday came around, all you wanted to do was relax, but Suho had other plans for you.

“Come on! We haven’t seen each other all week! I miss my bestie!”

“I miss you too, but I’m so tired,” you complained, rolling around in your bed for affect.

“We are all tired, we’re college students.”

“Why can’t you hang out with your roommate? I’m sure he will keep you company.”

“He is hanging out with me. I’m trying to expose you to more people,” You could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I don’t need more friends. You’re like five friends put together!”

“Please,” Suho whimpered, muttering your name softly. You tensed, knowing what he was doing. “We haven’t seen one another in five days and I just really need my best friend right now. Is that a crime? Is wanting to see you such a bad thing?”

He sighed when you remained silent, “fine. I won’t bother you anymore. Take your nap and be a loser for all your life, but don’t call me when you finally want to settle down, because I would have moved on with a new bestie by then.”

“Fine!” You cried, hopping off your bed. “Jesus, Suho! I’ll hang out with you, damn!”

He chuckled and you heard a muffled ‘works every time’ before he was back in your ear, “you have ten minutes. Dress really cute, we’re going somewhere fun. You better be waiting for us when we get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You hung up before he could guilt you into doing something else you didn’t want to do and slumped over to your closet.

Suho’s definition of really cute was a scary concept, and it made you wonder where he was dragging you. He loved heels and thigh highs. You always joked and told him he was a subtle pervert, and he would reply by simply shrugging, tilting his head to get a good view of the girl he had his eye on at the time.

You groaned and yanked the clothes you knew he was already picturing in his head before getting ready.

Six minutes later, you were standing outside the dorms in a thin pink dress, black tights, chunky black heels, and a glare.

True to his word, Suho was in front of the dorms ten minutes after your call ended. He stepped out of the passenger side of a very expensive looking black car, dressed in dark jeans and a sky blue button down, and you knew that you were dressed accordingly.

His grin grew into a full-blown smile as he took you in, “you never disappoint.”

“Shut up, you perv,” You retaliated. He just laughed, continuing walking up to you. Once you were right in front of each other, he pulled you into a hug and you soon felt a tugging at your hair.

Suho pulled away with a satisfied grin, “you look prettier with your hair down.”

“What is this?” You snapped, as he ruffled your brown hair that he had released from the ponytail you had it in seconds ago. “Are you trying to hook me up with someone?”

“I might be, but I just want you to have fun tonight. You have to dress good to feel good.”

“I mean, I guess?” You let him drag you over to the car. He opened the backseat door for you and helped you get in before crawling back to the front. There were two males sitting to your left, both incredibly handsome and one behind the wheel.

Suho called you and you glanced at him, really nervous. You usually felt at ease around the opposite sex, but Suho made you dress up, and it made you self-conscious, especially since all the men in the car were good looking.

Not as fine as your little ballerina, you thought suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heat up. They definitely weren’t that pleasing to the eyes.

You blinked, quickly focusing back at Suho. He had his hand on the driver’s shoulder, “This is my roommate, Kris, and those two sitting next to you are Kim Jongdae and Do Kyungsoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, nodding towards them. They all nodded in return and you zoomed off to some unknown place.

“Jongdae and Kyungsoo are singers,” Suho informed as you continued driving. “And Kris here is an actor. They all have scholarships and are top of their classes.”

“Why must you talk us up like this?” The one furthest to the window whined. He had a cute voice and a cat like curve to his lips that you couldn’t help but stare at.

“It’s alright,” you began. “It’s in his nature. He’s like a proud father.”

“This girl right here,” he started, and you rolled your eyes. “Is one of the best viola players in the country, if not the continent! She also draws, plays other instruments, and sings.”

You shook your head rapidly, “please do not tell professional singers that I sing, Suho. That’s embarrassing.”

He simply shrugged, “how many times have you sung the lyrics to my compositions?”

“I’m not sure anymore, Suho,” you sighed, your gaze flickering to the singers beside you. They looked intrigued, and you wanted to shrink.

“Exactly, because it’s been too many times to count. If it had been up to me, I would have given you the songs to record. I write them for you anyway.”

“Gross,” you cried, kicking his seat. Sometimes he said things that made it seem as if you were closer than you actually were. It was a habit you were trying to get him out of.

It was around ten when Kris—who had been silent throughout the entire ride there—pulled into a karaoke bar.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath. Suho was toying with you the entire ride there, the bastard.

“What was that?” The smaller boy beside you, Kyungsoo, asked. His voice was deeper than you had thought it would be at first glance and his wide eyes and plump lips made him seem older than you would have originally thought, more mature.

“I should have known we would be singing,” you said a bit louder to him, although you pushed your knee deep into the back of Suho’s seat.

“And drinking,” the guy near the window, Jongdae, winked at you playfully and you sighed with both content and relief, because he was really cute and you really needed a drink.

“Good,” you breathed as you all headed out.

You followed the guys into the bar, and was led into probably the biggest room you had ever seen in one of these places. It was already filled with about six other people, both male and female.

You felt pressure on your arm and lips at your ear. “Don’t be afraid to make friends, and maybe even get a bit touchy if you want,” Suho winked at you and you grimaced. What was up with him today?

There were only two other girls in the room, and you quickly ran to sit beside them, introducing yourself quickly. They were Hyeri and Hyorin. There was a guy singing a Super Junior song, and he was really good. You just sat silently as everyone got comfortable. Jongdae soon appeared with around four huge bottles of liquor, while Kyungsoo scuttled behind him with shot glasses.

“Whose ready to turn up!” Jongdae’s high-pitched voice rang loudly over the commotion of the room, and everyone—including yourself—cheered. Jongdae and another boy who you weren’t acquainted with poured the shots, while Kyungsoo handed them out. You were the last one to receive a glass, and he sat beside you with a shy smile. You returned it and waited for one of the shorter boys in the room to give the toast speech, “to freshman! To the beginning of the rest of our lives!”

You all held your glasses up high before tilting your heads back and downing the liquid fire with grimaces and coughs.

Liquor made you friendly, to put it simply. It also made you extremely confident, yet also very uncoordinated. You took six more shots of the strongest stuff Jongdae had to offer, and before you knew it, you were singing a duet with one of the boys named Byun Baekhyun. It was an intense balled, and you acted the part, even pressing against each other, his arm around your waist while one of your hands were on his cheek as you both shared his microphone.

You gathered hoots and hollers and you just laughed and laughed when the song ended. He gave you a wink and carried you off the small platform, making you sit on his lap back on the couch.

“You’re fun,” He yelled into your ear, his voice deep enough for you to feel warm from the compliment.

“You give good speeches,” you replied, remembering him giving the toast earlier.

“You sing very well,” he countered.

“Well… you’re very handsome.”

His smile was a million watts.

~*~

(Another lil snippet that I haven’t even gotten to plot wise but I had a Vision™ and wrote it down before I forgot, to give you better insight on what I'm trying to do here haha)

“Jongin….”

“Oh no, silly girl, I’m not Jongin,” his eyes remained piercing into your soul as he pushed a chunk of your hair back behind your ear just to whisper, “I’m Kai.”

You blinked up at him, “who?”

“Kai,” he clarified. “Jongin’s twin brother.”

It was silent for a moment and then you burst out laughing, pushing his shoulder. He looked at you stunned, “stop playing, Jongin. What kind of joke is this?”

He raised an eyebrow, “It’s not a joke, plus, Jongin’s sense of humor wouldn’t allow him to play such a prank. Maybe when we were younger and used to switch classes for the day, but ever since college, all that boy’s focused on is the art.”

“The art?”

“Dancing.”

“Oh… oh!” Your eyes widened as you remembered asking Jongin about his hiphop routine. Your eyes flashed up to the Jongin in front of you, “you were the one doing the hiphop routine!”

He smirked and nodded boldly, “That I was.”

“Shit, you’re telling the truth.”

“Duh. I’m not a liar. But, it seems like Jongin might be…..”

#kai scenarios #kai scenario #exo scenario #exo scenarios #kai drabble #kai drabbles #exo drabbles #exo drabble #kai oneshot #kai oneshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #kai

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soundofseventeen · 5 years ago

Text

Snapshoot (OT13)

Hi, in case y’all didn’t know, I have declared war on Erin and Haley and this was one outcome lmao! It’s also one of my favorite songs and I’m really happy with these! Credits to the owners for the gifs!!! I couldn’t find names!!!!!

Seungcheol: (Ahh, that’s how it’s done...3,2,1 shoot) the way you had fallen on your butt when you two had decided to take an evening stroll after dinner one night. You circled the nearby park a couple of times when you noticed your shoe had become untied. You let go of Cheol’s hand and knelt down to tie it up. You’d been so focused on looping the laces, you didn’t notice the furry little creature trotting up to you until it barked to get your attention. You let out a small yelp and fell back from the scare, only to squeal in delight when the pup sniffed your face and licked your cheek. She ended up sitting next to you while you petted and cooed her. Seungcheol took out his phone and snapped a photo of you nuzzling noses, the biggest smile on both your faces, until the rightful owner came calling for the pup a moment later and she vanished, breaking your heart. Cheol did help you up eventually, shaking his head at your expression. He posted all over social media, gushing over your cuteness.

Jeonghan: (snap shoot, you) the way a bucket of paint managed to fall, spilling the orange color all over you. After agreeing to help one of your friends paint their new house while they went furniture shopping, you invited Jeonghan to help you. Okay, he wasn’t really helping, but he did occasionally dip his brush in the paint and got it on the wall, and he liked changing every song that came on because it didn’t fit the mood, but you couldn’t complain much. At one point, Jeonghan did get up on the ladder to paint the parts you missed (because his eyesight was better than yours), and when he had forgotten he had the can of paint on the top step, he buckled his knees and one of them hit the can and it spilled on the ladder and on you while you were removing the tape. He captured the perfect moment with you rubbing the paint off your clothes and hair, the laughter being heard throughout the house. And before he could do anything else, you splashed a different color of paint on him and going to hug them so the colors could blend together as well as you did.

Joshua: (the way to set the focus on you is a tutorial of love) the way you held his guitar in your hands. In the entire time you’ve known Joshua, his most prized possession had never been far behind. In the midst of his collection of rice cookers, Winnie the Pooh plushes and never ending love letters, his guitar had been his first and only love. He loved dedicating a few minutes of his day playing Encantadora, the name he had given her because he was so enchanted by her. And whenever you hung out together, he’d always ask if it was okay if he could fill the silence with her music. And it’s not like you could say no. Sometimes he sang along with her and sometimes she sang alone, but both were always beautiful. The last time he was at your place, Joshua had been called back to work for some last minute changes and Encantadora had stayed with you since then. You were always afraid of carrying his guitar, because of the things that could go wrong and you couldn’t handle him hating you if something did happen. So naturally, it stayed on your couch where you hardly moved her. But Joshua was picking Encantadora up today, so after Google searching what was safe, you cleaned her up, making sure to rid any specs of dust. Curiosity eventually got the best of you and picked her up and fixed her on your lap, strumming the chords lightly and cringing because she didn’t sound anything like when Joshua played her. Joshua had quietly let himself in during this time, just in case you were asleep, and he saw you tenderly caressing the strings, you frowning when it didn’t like the way you expected it to. He smiled, exiting the app he currently had and opened the camera. He clicked the button a couple of times before announcing his presence and taking a spot next you, showing you how the basics.

Junhui: (capture this moment right now) the way you stopped to smell the roses, literally. One of Junhui’s favorite times of year was the rose festival. Businesses all around the Seoul area closed and gathered at the park to support the small businesses. Jun often woke up early to get a good seat for the parade that kicked off the momentous occasion; the only difference was that this was the first time that you’d be joining him. Other than being mostly sleepy and resting your head on his shoulder it was fun. The people on the floats engaged with the crowd, throwing candies and small toys and even fliers to vote. Junhui constantly disappeared and then reappeared with food, only sharing sometimes. And with the parade ending, he brought you to your feet, making you follow it (yes, walking) until you ended up at the park which had been up with various booths, the dj barely setting up his stage, and the bounce houses getting ready to go. You didn’t know how Junhui managed to fit so much food in his stomach throughout the day, and how many items he buried in his pockets and once he started getting recognized by the fans, he had to hide in one of the public bathrooms until you got him a hat and sunglasses. And once the early evening followed the humid afternoon, he pulled you onto one of the benches to let you catch your breath and once you were on your feet again waiting for your ride, you recounted the day’s events, you swearing you were gonna be full for the rest of the year when you noticed the rose bush. You stopped in the middle of the story, making a beeline for the bush and petted the flowers, adoring the color and everything and even inhaled the scent, praising their beauty and you didn’t notice Jun pulling out his phone and taking pictures of the candid moment, your nose pressed to the petals, your skin tone complementing the rose.

Soonyoung: (to me baby, you are the greatest gift) the way you ended up falling asleep on him curled up on the couch. He had just come after an exhausting practice and all he wanted was to cuddle you in his arms until his idol duties separated you again...or until his limbs fell off; whichever came first. He opened up Disney plus, telling you about the movie that he had been wanting to watch since forever just to see if he still remembered it. Soonyoung found the movie, pressed play, and let you snuggle close to him, throwing a blanket over yourselves. At one point he asked you if you wanted to order pizza for a late, late night dinner when he noticed you weren’t responding to him. He turned to you, ready to ask again, but he saw your eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply and he smiled. He kissed your head and fumbled around for his phone, wanting to capture the moment. He finally found it and after turning off the flash, took a couple of photos, even coming in for a few of them and sent them to you so you’d have something to look forward to when you woke up in the morning.

Wonwoo: (let’s remember this happy day; let’s capture it in a picture) the way you lit up with your photocards. Wonwoo had promised you that when your albums from the other kpop group that had stolen your heart arrived at the boys’ dorms, he’d let you know (even though you got the notifications by email to track their every movement.) Sure enough on a clear Saturday afternoon, he had woken up from his second nap because of your constant knocking. He let you in, rubbing his eyes and grumbling how he could never get any peace and quiet, despite being the only one home. You saw the package on the couch addressed to you and you ran, tripping over someone’s blanket. And then the package disappeared from your sight as Wonwoo picked it up and said you weren’t opening it until you had something to eat and as if knowing you, your stomach growled so you complied grumpily slurping the ramen noodles without really tasting them and being the little shit he was, didn’t let you open the box until he finished eating. You didn’t ask for much, just that you’d be gifted with a bias card. Just one, and then you’d be happy. And with each one you opened, you could feel a little sadness at not seeing your favorite face and Wonwoo made sure to capture your reaction each time. You had given up hope at the fact you weren’t getting your bias this time, but still you opened the final album, thumbing through the photos when you saw the photocard. You flipped it over, and then you showed it Wonwoo with a big grin on your face, radiating with the same happiness and he snapped away, the smile making its way to his face.

Jihoon: (you in viewfinder, the focus is auto. Naturally following the movements, it follows you) the way you covered your face when he was singing the song he wrote for you. You had been under the guise that he had been holed in Universe Factory while everyone spent the day in the great outdoors, so he asked if you could pick up his lunch order and bring it to him. You didn’t bother changing out of your comfortable clothes so you left almost as soon as you read his message. He was surprised to see you so soon, but stammered out how you didn’t want him to be hungry when he still had so long to go. Jihoon smiled at your sweet response, otherwise not being able to form any words. You feel your face warming up, so in order to move away from the awkwardness, you asked him if you could hear what he was working on. He was slightly embarrassed but he took a collective breath and went to pick up his guitar and played. Once you realized it was about you, you looked for something to hide behind so you didn’t notice that Jihoon had stopped playing and quietly pulled out his phone and captured the moment until the sound gave it away but he set it to his lock screen to remind himself of his muse.

Seokmin: (to me, you’re the most precious) the way the wonder etched across your face. You weren’t sure how you managed to convince Seokmin to play hooky but here you were at the sea turtle reserve you volunteered at during the season. You showed him the in and outs of the place, giving him the rundown of how you normally spent your time here. He nodded along, not really understanding a lot but he enjoyed hearing you rave about it and seeing you light up. You even got to show him the nest that you found one day while picking up trash and gave him an estimated date on when they were gonna hatch. You picked up an egg, dusting the sand off when it began to shake and move. Seokmin, not knowing what else to do, searched his phone, finding it in his back pocket, and almost dropping it while trying to unlock it so the perfect moment wouldn’t pass him by. He snapped several of them, from the way the shell cracked open to the way the baby sea turtle popped its head out, all the while you being so mesmerized with a live baby in your palms and he swore he found a new favorite animal as you gingerly placed it on the sand and said goodbye before the ocean wave took him home.

Mingyu: (I want to capture that smile, just as the way you are) the way he got you laughing again. After a long week of struggling with your work life and being dragged into unnecessary family drama, Mingyu snuck into your house and turned it into a mini photography studio, complete with stuffed animals, all your favorite foods and running up your energy bill from all the light sources. The moment he heard you unlocking your door and stepping inside, he ambushed you with his camera, throwing out every compliment that came to his mind and it took everything in you not to cry into the plush when he tossed one at you. He reassured you that you didn’t have to talk to him but he wasn’t gonna leave you alone until you smiled like you meant it. Mingyu then proceeded to poke your cheek, telling jokes, doing aegyo and impersonating his brothers until the corners of your lips turned upwards and you forgot about your hard week. He even went as far to develop the photos and telling you he was keeping them somewhere in the studio so he could always see you happy (and you bawled.)

Minghao: (Ahh, this is how it feels like...3,2,1 shoot) the way the leaves fell around you. When Minghao’s Polaroid came in, the first thing he wanted to do was take you out on a date and capture as many moments as he could. The only problem with that was that he forgot to order extra film, so he had to wait until that arrived. The air had a crisp feeling to it, an uncommon occurrence during the hot weather, but he took advantage of that and took you hiking. The camera was a little heavier than he expected it to but he carried it around, nonetheless. The few butterflies that came out, he snapped; the names you engraved on a tree to symbolize you were together forever, he got twice. He even got the little squirrels chattering at you as if getting you in trouble for vandalizing their home. He loved your hand around his, feeling as if you were one with nature. Minghao, at times, felt as if he was looking at you for the first time, because he couldn’t speak. The light breeze that followed you around blew on the tree as you carved your favorite lyrics into a different tree and you had to stop to catch the falling leaves. Minghao, after refilling the film, raised the lens to his eye and clicked on the camera, the candid moment captured and already developing. He was almost sure he’d put the photo behind his phone case.

Seungkwan: (me by your side and you by my side) the way the fantasy life took over your life. When Wonwoo had raved about a book, your curiosity had gotten the best of you and bought the book for yourself just to see it was worth the buzz that he created and unfortunately for you, it did. Even worse was that Wonwoo failed to tell you that there wasn’t a sequel, but it was a series that just had you ordering all of them at once to save you shipping costs. In that week you read them cover to cover, Seungkwan invited you to Pledis while they worked on songs, vocals, choreos and antics of every size, especially since they stayed late to the point where they went straight home after work. One night while they were perfecting the choreography, you finished another one, and you couldn’t remember where you placed the other book to start reading it, until you found it under Chan’s hoodie and opened it straightaway, immersing yourself in the newest adventure. You missed the way Seventeen finally nailed the moves and the 15 minute break they took to enjoy their soda and burgers and just how loud they were in general. The only thing you complained about was how you couldn’t find a comfortable reading position so Seungkwan took a spot next to and draped an arm around you to bring you close to him and you decided to rest your head over his heart and resumed your reading, although you could feel yourself growing more tired now that you were finally comfortable. Seungkwan picked up his phone that had been charging by an oultet and called you softly once he opened the camera. He placed a soft kiss to your cheek and clicked on the shutter, ecstatic that you didn’t push it away.

Hansol: (a perfect subject that is more than perfect) the way you modeled an old hat you didn’t wear anymore. After your family had threatened to throw away the belongings in your old room, you asked Vernon to take a trip with you to your hometown to clean it out and take with you what you wanted to your new home and the rest could be donated or trashed. He helped you throw your posters away (although that hurt your teenage self a bit), stuffed the shirts you cringed at in a trash bag, and packed some CDs into boxes so you could ship them back. While clearing out one of the drawers on your nightstand, he pulled out a digital camera, the strap decorated in puff paint peeling in some parts. Hansol pressed the power button, unsurprised when it didn’t turn on, so he asked if you had any batteries and you pointed him in the direction of where you remembered you kept them, but you focused more on throwing everything you kept hidden from your nosy family, making sure to rip your notes into tiny pieces in case they decided to rummage through the trash, even going as far as dousing them in water just to be safe. When Hansol managed to finally turn it on, he skimmed across your photos, hardly recognizing the person you used to be but also believing it, since you never lost your smile. He came back into your room, telling you to wear the first thing you grabbed and snapped photo after photo, capturing every movement, even going as far as throwing the hat as you posed for the grand finale. Naturally, Hansol dragged you to the nearest place that developed photos, and picked out a book to keep these in.

Chan: (I know, even if it turns to be hard somehow, but since I have you, everything is alright) the way you couldn’t stay still before getting ready to go to work. When you had quit your last job, you felt a mixture of emotions but mostly the relief of no longer taking people’s shit and the fear of not knowing how you were gonna survive without money. Chan had been more than helpful, letting you move in with him while you got back on your feet. During those days, you had grown closer and eventually started dating, and you found a short college course that could help you in achieving something close to what you wanted. And when you received the degree, you immediately looked for a job in hopes of paying Chan back as soon as possible (even if the idea did offend him. He was more than happy to help you out after all. It seemed that Chan was your good luck charm because you found it...your dream job and got it almost as quickly. You guys celebrated that night and you found yourself being unable to sleep the entire night and you were still up early the next morning. Chan, feeling more like a proud parent than a supportive boyfriend, made you breakfast while you got ready and didn’t let you leave the house until he got many, many, many pictures of you to show off to his friends when he left for Pledis. He sent the selfies to you as a way to remind you that you could conquer the day.

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sopxhiea · 5 years ago

Text

Pleasant

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

“Hey, stop looking at me like that– I don’t like how cute you look.”

The room was cold, glass windows that took up the place of where the walls were supposed to be let the breeze in a little too welcomingly. It had been a busy friday for the city, many cars passing by while the sounds of footsteps and women giggling filled the empty yet occupied room. There was a canvas in the middle, too many paint brushes resting on the floor while there was a mixture of water and alcohol traveling on the oak that made up the surface.

There was slow music playing in the background, it sometimes changed depending on what kind of mood was wanted since it seemed to get a little more tempo during the afternoon time. It wasn’t afternoon anymore, if it had been, he would’ve brought you lunch with flowers. He knew just how forgetful you were while working in the empty studio and he never missed a chance to see your eyes light up the minute you would spot him, especially when he has food with him.

He found the space empty while the only worker in the studio besides you let him in, she was a little younger than you but talented still. She needed some training and she would be a good painter after all. He heard the sound of your bare foot against the wooden floor, your steps were small which probably meant that you were tired but if you had stayed until now, he knew you had to finish a piece.

He murmured a small thank you to the younger girl, realising just how late it was. You had probably forgotten to send her home so Alfie told his driver to drop the girl off and come back to your studio, you probably had a full mind today. He followed the smell of paint mixed with your natural scent, it smelt like home to him. He had been missing you for the past couple of days since you always came in late or fell asleep on the couch after he had come home.

He was usually the busy one. After getting married, there had been many nights you had sat him down and talked to him about just how much you missed him since he ate up all the hours of the day in that bakery of his. You knew it was important and while making the promise to love this bear of a man forever, you were also aware of the fact that you deserved, and very much needed, his attention. It had gotten better after a small talk with him, he listened to you more than he listened anyone else but lately, you were the one being held in the studio of yours.

There had been a painting of yours in an auction two months ago, it had caused quite the talk around town and you were getting more jobs by the passing day. You didn’t mind, you loved your job but you loved him more. The last week had been just you in your studio, painting the day away while forgetting to eat. It was usually Alfie who would come from the bakery with fresh pastries and a bunch of flowers, planting a kiss on your head while telling you to stretch every once in a while to make sure you didn’t get too stiff.

He also made sure you were feeling alright every night on the bed, touching every part of you and using your heavy workload as an excuse while his fingers would explore your body. You had always been spending a lot of time in bed ever since he first got the taste of you. He had been addicted from that point, always seeking you out no matter the place or the time. You didn’t complain, he was a lot more active now that you were married since you were officially his and he loved the sound of that. There had been many times you were covered in paint at the end or against the fire place where the two of you would seek comfort in each others’ touch.

He had been your home ever since you had let him in, shown him the real you and he had loved you with all he could ever since. He heard you first, your slow hum to the song that was playing in the background. It was french from what he could muster and he knew you had a way with words so he wasn’t surprised. A couple books hit his shoes as he walked inside the studio, you were walking in from the back side where there was a private bathroom and he watched as you walked in with a tired sigh, it was a pleasant one from being satisfied with your work as far as he could tell.

Your eyes met in the cold studio room, your once expressionless face turned into an immediate smile, making his heart flip more than once as you walked towards him. You ignored the pain brushes on the floor and the mess you’d made, you just wanted to hug him. Walking towards him with fast yet cautious steps not to spill anything around, you made your way towards your man.

“’ello, luv..” he spoke and right afterwards your body met his, it was automatic. His head rested on top of yours while your arms hugged his body, you hugged him inside his coat and squeezed him when he kissed the top of your head. His hands held you close, caressing the skin of your back while you took his scent in.

This was what heaven meant to you.

You let yourself get lost in his touch, in the warmth he provided for as long as you could. He didn’t complain, he had missed you a great deal, much like always, and he never said no to your touch, ever.

“You didn’t come by at lunch today.” you said, retreating yourself from his embrace and not because you wanted to but because you had to. You looked forward to his lunch visits every day and it had been a great disappointment when he didn’t come around, maybe that was why you had stayed so late.

“I was busy, yeah.” he spoke, watching you sit in front of the already painted canvas to add details to the figures in the scenery. You could paint like a saint and he was just as awed as he was the first time he had seen a painting of yours.

He knew how talented your hands were from the way you expertly touched him. The way you would massage his back as your soft hands would travel along his rough skin, creating circles as you’d gain a sound of pleasure coming from him. He knew the feeling of your hands traveling along his neck and hair all too well but he could never get enough. He knew you could use your hands really well, not just in the bathroom but in the way that you wanted to express yourself as well which is why you made so much money as you did now, people recognised brilliance and you were it to him.

“It’s alright..” you said with a soft tone while settling down with your brushes. You knew he was going to apologise when there was no reason to do so you just answered what you thought he’d say next and like most times, you had been right.

A small hue of blush appeared in his cheeks, he liked that you knew him so well. You didn’t know everything that was going on in his mind but you’d learned a lot more about him especially after getting married, he was an open book to you now but you wanted to take your time and explore every little detail of his. He was the most precious jewel in your eyes. He grunted, walking around the empty space while your brush hit the canvas repeatedly.

Your motions were quick as you changed brushes, detailing the colours as they needed depth more than anything. He watched. He watched as you stood up and got a little far from the canvas to see if it all fit, he watched as you hummed in approval, retreating back to your place in front of the canvas to detail it furthermore, he looked at you adoringly.

Most of your locks decorated your shoulders, you had put it up in a bun but it was too short for all your hair to stay in one place. There were strands around your face, almost framing your features while Alfie’s eyes traveled along them, he loved you dearly.

It had scared him at first, to be in love with someone this much. There were so many feelings inside him and he was an expert at keeping them at ease mostly but what he felt towards you, oh how he loved you, it was entirely something else for him to comprehend. He had felt like a wounded bird the first time he’d realised just how much your presence lifted his spirits, he had never been the one to be depended on someone but his happiness, solely and totally, depended on you.

“Luv..” he spoke, caressing your hair as you looked up at him, he had been watching you for the last half an hour as you painted for all you knew and the look in his eyes was just too dense for you.

You weren’t in your prime state today, it had been a harsh start and he hadn’t showed up during lunch which messed with your spirit a little. You were wearing a dress much like you did when you painted. It was very baggy, no definition whatsoever, your face had splashes of paint from earlier when you were experimenting with a new technique but he had never seen you more beautiful, this was the woman he fell in love with.

You held his hand, pulling him closer as you stayed seated but he didn’t lower himself, he seemed like he was calculating something. He wanted to do so much with you, you had become his muse and he wanted to give you everything he could offer, anything you wanted and not just jewels or paint but also he wanted to take you all over the world, he wanted you to carry his kids and move to a bigger house where you would fall in love with him again after the kids had grown up and left you. He wanted to see you age, to see you grow into an even prettier version of yourself. He wanted every part of you.

You looked into his eyes, he was somewhere else but his blue orbs got deeper by the passing second. There was once a time you had been scared to look at his eyes just because they held too much, there were too many emotions this man was capable of but with time, you had gotten every sentiment out of him. It was happening again, he was getting lost in his mind but not in a bad way, it was more like he was daydreaming about you in front of you.

You chuckled, pulling him down as his body abided. You pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss on each cheek with extra love, he smelled like vanilla and rum, it was your favourite smell in this world. You gave him a smile after you pulled him back to the world with your kisses, the look in his eyes was still there but now he wasn’t daydreaming, he was looking directly at his dream.

You smiled again, pushing a few locks of hair back from his face from when he took off his hat, he melted into your touch. You spoke with a chuckle as he watched you like a wide-eyes kid would watch someone in amazement.

“Hey, stop looking at me like that– I don’t like how cute you look.” you almost whispered, earning a chuckle from him because you had called him cute, he didn’t like to be called it but he was fine as long as it was from you.

“Like ‘hat?” he asked, your hands never left his cheeks as you both sat in front of the canvas, he got even closer to your face so that you could feel his breath against you.

“Like you’re looking at something otherworldly...” you whispered against his lips as he slowly started to kiss you, taking it easy but you knew it was either gonna be the bed or your studio where things would start getting steamy like they always did, so you welcomed it.

“Well, I am, aren’t I?” he spoke, his hands finding your upper thighs while his deep kisses earned mewls from you, he knew your body all too well but never got tired of the touch.

You felt his hands travel up your dress, the smell of faint paint had mixed with your own scent and he found it even more addictive. He chuckled at how responsive you were to his touch, especially since you two were so active but you still were a mere creature longing for his skin against yours. You got lost in the kiss, soon you were sitting on top of him, caressing his hair as his hands stayed exploring, you could never get enough of him.

As you sat on top, straddling the bear of a man and desperately kissed him, a loud honk could be heard from the outside. It made you break the kiss, breathless while your swollen lips looked at Alfie to see if it was his man or just a drunk guy passing by. Alfie didn’t stop anything he was doing, his hands were on your ass now but you held his face from his chin, making him look directly at you while he continued to pepper your skin with kisses.

“Alfie..” you spoke, breathy as you once again became numbed by his touch but there was another honk which made anger rise up in his chest.

He slowly let you down while you followed him out, hair disheveled for the both of you while your lips were swollen, your chest was rising too much for someone who should’ve been just painting. The man outside was his driver, Alfie just knew and he was about to fire him, how dare he interrupt the moment he was having with his wife, he had been waiting for it the whole day.

“You fucking bastard..” Alfie breathed out and got out of the studio, practically howling at the man as his shouting became the only thing you could hear from even inside the studio.

He was mad, it was also a mixture of frustration from the day he had as well as the given interruption. You had never been scared of him and you weren’t now either. He shouted when necessary, he hurt when necessary and he was an expert in pain since he knew how to work his way around your body so there was no problem with that, he was just a little rough around the edges but he was your Alfie.

You chuckled at him as he let all his anger out on the poor driver. You knew how stressed he could get but that was why he had you, you’d help him in any way possible. You took your coat from the hanger at the entrance after locking the door to the studio, while locking the front entrance you heard his footsteps come closer, he wanted to finish what he’d started but you’d continue at home, even though he was certainly too desperate to wait that much. You felt his hands on your waist, a small sigh escaped his lips while he spoke.

“Leavin’?” he asked, you nodded softly while your back was still all that faced him. He liked assurance and his form of getting that was physical touch.

It was usually his hand on her back, caressing and never leaving its place. She liked that he was clingy with her, he needed her just as much as she needed him. The touch sometimes became his hand on her thigh, that was usually the case when he was driving. His hands would find hers whenever they were invited to dinner somewhere, squeezing and caressing her fingers while they would sometimes take it a little further but you weren’t the one for that kind of risk, not always.

You turned to face your husband, a beaming smile on your lips while you took his hand in yours, obviously bigger in size but you liked the way his skin felt against yours way too much. Pulling him towards the car, you told the driver to drive you home while Alfie followed you like a puppy, he wanted to be close to you.

Ever since he had put a ring on your finger, he had become your tail. He usually followed you everywhere and anywhere, barely complaining. There were things out of routine like when you would go the farmers market with him, or to pick up flowers and shop around the city but it was usually you in the big house, tucked inside the covers or on the bed, relying on each others’ warmth while you would converse, it had been such a lovely time for you.

He started kissing you neck slowly, he liked foreplay way too much and he knew just how you reacted to his touch, you were desperate for it. You chuckled into the kiss, feeling the vibrations of your laugh in his lips as he mirrored your smile. The driver knew not to disturb you as your mewls became absorbed by his lips, silencing you the best he could while he explored your body in the backseat.

Your melodic voice filled his ears, he would worship you tonight much like he did on the daily. You were both lucky to have found each other, he knew that much as his lips met your shoulder, earning a slow moan of approval. It was rare that Alfie would get this lucky, he was going to make sure he would cherish the blessing that is you every second you two had.

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years ago

Text

look now, the sky is gold

He wants this, has longed for this, and he already can’t wait to meet whoever’s growing in there, but he’s scared, too. There’s no turning back now. His world is about to be forever changed, and it will never be just him and Amy again. There will be someone else depending on them, always another person in the back of their heads, and it's slowly hitting Jake that he's about to get onto what is sure to be simultaneously the best and most terrifying rollercoaster of his life.

or, the jake peralta way of dealing with the news that you're going to be a dad.

read on ao3

(thank you to my love @johnny-and-dora for cheering me on about this and major thanks to @amydancepants-peralta for reading through it for me!!)

____________________________________________________

During the months they were trying, Jake pictured his reaction to a positive pregnancy test many times.

Each time Amy took one, he’d either sat with her and held her hand, or waited outside the bathroom quietly twiddling his thumbs. Each month, he’d thought of what his reaction would be if the test came back with the two lines meaning pregnant. Maybe he’d laugh, or kiss her, or make a dope sextape joke that she'd punch him in the arm for. There were plenty of options, yet he never considered the reaction that occurs when Amy does fish the familiar white and pink plastic stick out of the pocket of her hoodie.

First, there's the surprise, the realization that this test has two lines and not one.

Then, there's the piecing together, looking from the test to Amy's tear-filled eyes and nervous smile in sheer disbelief.

Then it's the part where even though he thinks he understands, he asks to make sure, and his voice trembles when he says the word baby? and Amy confirms it and suddenly he's tearing up, too, giving in to the sudden need to wrap her in a tight hug.

“Is this real?” He whispers as she sniffles into his hoodie. “You're… this is really happening?”

“I think it is,” she laughs, a little timid, and he wants to hug her even tighter. Then he wonders if he's supposed to be extra careful with his wife now when she’s carrying the beginning of a brand new person inside of her, and stops himself.

“You did it,” he says instead, and she nods. His shirt is becoming wet from her crying, but he doesn’t mind it. He's missed her happy tears. “You did it, Ames.”

“We did it,” she mumbles, and Jake thinks about holding her hand at the doctor’s appointment, sitting there listening to the fertility consultant explain what medications she needed to take. He’d felt useless, not knowing how to help except staying by her side. “Me and you together.”

Mostly you, he wants to say, because it was always hardest on her, but she pulls away from him smiling so wide, and he nods.

“Okay. Me and you.”

Amy claims she’s exhausted, so they go to bed early even though neither has work tomorrow. Jake finishes the game - he loses, but it’s okay because he's untouchable right now and Wario cheats anyway - and then crawls down under his side of the comforter, waiting for his wife.

Amy comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and underwear, and he’s mesmerized by her as he watches her pull the familiar blue NYPD t-shirt over her head, fabric sliding over the still mostly flat stomach.

He thinks about how this body he knows so well and loves so much is carrying the beginning of another life inside of it. It's hard to understand how it can still look the same, no obvious changes in its appearance, when it must be changing more than ever on the inside. He wonders how long it'll be before the outside catches up. Part of him can’t wait for it to; maybe it'll feel more real then, once he can see it happening. Plus, he's already certain Amy’s going to look cute as hell with a real baby bump. He’s excited.

“I'm too tired for sex,” she warns him when she catches him staring, and he holds up his hands, feigning innocence.

“No worries. I mean, we don't even have any pressure now, right? Already made the baby,” he points out, and she chuckles as she gets under the covers.

“We did. Without a war-room calendar and everything.”

“Just love,” he muses.

“And a little bit of hormones, possibly.”

“Love and a little bit of hormones, title of our sextape.”

“I love you,” she whispers, and he can't stop himself from pulling her closer, making her giggle as he presses feather-light kisses to her neck. “I can't believe this is real life.”

“We're having a real-life baby.”

“Hopefully.” Amy bites her lip. “I mean, it's still early. We shouldn't be telling people for another month or two, in case something happens.” Her voice shakes on the last word, but Jake hushes her.

“Let's not think about that, okay? Let's just be happy for right now.”

She gives him another faint smile. “Okay. Right now.”

“And right now you're pregnant.”

“Right now I'm pregnant.” Her eyes gleam. “Holy fuck.”

“Woah, using foul language in front of our unborn child? Shame on you, Santiago - shame.”

“They're a five-week embryo. They don't have ears yet.”

“Right, right. But they exist,” he says, still trying to comprehend it. “Because we're having a baby.”

“We are,” she nods, and this time the smile on her face is radiant, making up for every instance he’s seen her crying in the last months.

He’s not sure what time he wakes up the next morning, but Amy's not awake yet, so he figures it must be early. She's drifted away from him during the night, and he moves closer, aching to be near her.

She’s sleeping on her right side with her mouth open slightly and her hair spread out on the pillow, and Jake wonders if it’s possible pregnancy is making her glow already. He reaches out to wrap an arm around her, but is stopped in his tracks when he notices that her left hand is resting on her stomach as if to protect the tiny life growing in there.

He has to swallow hard to keep himself from crying again. This is not the time to have a breakdown, because his wife is finally pregnant and he has to keep it together for her sake, but with the boundless happiness has come an edge of fear and something else.

It’s a feeling he can’t put words on yet, but it’s spreading from deep in his heart to every capillary in his body, filling him with an immediate, acute awareness that he would do anything in the world to make sure the child growing in there is safe. The thought of something happening to Amy has been his worst fear for a long time, ever since he had to leave his post in Texas so she could do her job without him hovering over her and being worried sick, but this feels different. This is instinctual. Jake doesn’t know anything about this child yet, isn’t sure if what he feels for them counts as love when it’s so new and uncertain, but he knows deep in his soul that he’d give up everything to keep them safe.

Carefully, as to not wake his soundly sleeping wife, he lifts the comforter and leans down so he’s facing her stomach. He presses a kiss to her hand, and then lets his rest on top of hers, linking their fingers together. Amy smiles in her sleep. Jake allows himself another moment of just watching her, wondering how on Earth he got so lucky, before he gets out of bed and pads into the bathroom.

He’s washing his hands when he notices the pregnancy test still resting on the counter next to the sink. Amy threw away all the negative ones, and he’s taken aback by seeing this one on full display before realizing it makes total sense for her to want to save it. He wonders where they’ll put it - it seems weird to make a shrine for a piece of plastic someone’s peed on, but it also feels wrong to leave the first evidence of the existence of their child forgotten in a drawer somewhere. He picks it up for a second and balances it in his hand. The two lines are as clear as they were yesterday, and just looking at them makes him jittery with excitement and a little bit of nerves.

He needs a distraction. Amy’s probably going to wake up soon, and he could always try to make them breakfast. This is something worth celebrating with real, unhealthy pancakes, served with an excessive amount of butter and syrup and possibly some strawberries if Amy forces him. Jake finds the pancake mix, hidden deep inside the cupboard still filled with gross healthy stuff like oat bran and sunflower seeds, and is about to get milk and an egg from the fridge when he notices something.

On the second shelf in their fridge is a small piece of some weird, but surprisingly good, cheese Charles gave them. Next to it is a package of cream cheese, and next to that are two bags of mozzarella and a piece of regular gouda. Jake remembers reading somewhere about all this stuff you're not supposed to eat when you're pregnant, and he's almost certain the list included a bunch of cheeses. He can't remember which ones, but just to be certain, he throws out the one from Charles, the first of the mozzarella bags, and then he throws out the gouda and the cream cheese too just in case. He sees a packet of bacon and vaguely remembers something about deli meats being another no-no. He's not sure what counts as deli meats, but he throws out a packet of turkey lunch meat and the bacon as well. Surely, they can't be too safe, and he wants - needs - to protect his pregnant wife and their child in every possible way. He wants to do his best and he wants to start today. If throwing out all their cold cuts is one way, then Jake is doing it. Maybe he should pour out all their alcohol too, that he knows is dangerous, or at least hide it for the following nine months -

“Babe, what are you doing?”

He freezes with the second bag of mozzarella still in his hand, turning around to meet the befuddled gaze of his wife.

“Uh -”

“Why are you throwing out everything in our fridge?” Amy has thrown on one of his hoodies and her hair’s in a messy top knot, but she still manages to give off one hell of an authoritative vibe when her brows furrow and she's looking at him like he just explained he was getting ready to compete in the next Summer Olympics.

“I thought…” He nods to her stomach and then to the cheese in his hand. “Pregnant people aren't supposed to eat a bunch of stuff, right? I’ve heard this stuff about cold cuts and cheeses, and then I wasn't sure which ones, so…”

“So you threw everything out?”

“Yeah,” he confesses, sheepishly. “Better safe than sorry?”’

Amy sighs. “Jake, you’re majorly overreacting.”

“I am?”

“The recommendations for cheese and deli meats are there to avoid getting listeria, which you’re more susceptible to in pregnancy, and which can also harm the baby. But pretty much everything is sprayed with food additives today, so the risk is low, and the bacteria dies if you heat it up. For cheese, you just have to avoid the unpasteurized ones.” She grabs the mozzarella from his hand, reading at the back. “This is pasteurized. Most cheeses are. So the only thing you’re doing is creating food waste.”

“I didn’t know for sure,” he shrugs, backing away and looking down at his feet as Amy puts back the cheese in their fridge before closing it. “I thought - I wanted to do this right.”

She squints. “What do you mean?”

“I have to start being a dad now, right? And I want to,” he rambles quickly. “Fuck, I can’t wait, okay? But…” He gestures to her stomach again, swallowing hard. “You’re doing everything, and I wanted to help. Start being a good dad right away.”

There’s a moment’s silence. Amy bites her lip, her eyes narrowing again, and he realizes she’s tearing up.

“Oh, honey,” she sniffles, and then she throws her arms around him without warning and hugs him tight. Jake hugs her back, stroking her hair. She’s been crying so much lately, it’s becoming second nature, but this time she pulls back after a couple of seconds and wipes away the tears with the sleeves of the hoodie before looking him right in the eyes.

“Please listen to me when I say this. You are a good dad, okay? You’ll be amazing. I hate to tell you this, but you can’t exactly be pregnant for me.”

“I know that,” he scoffs, a little indignant. Amy shakes her head, holding her hands on his shoulders.

“This kid is the size of an apple seed right now. An apple seed. We haven’t even known about their existence for twenty-four hours yet. What I’m trying to say is we don't have to clean out our entire fridge yet, babe.”

“I want to protect them,” he mumbles. “Make sure they're safe. It feels like the closest thing to that I can do is try to protect you.”

“I’ll make sure we throw out all the stuff I can't have,” she promises him calmly. “I’ll make a list in the binder of what I can't eat or do and I’ll follow it to a T. But you have to trust me, Jake.”

“Of course I trust you. It's not that.” He grimaces, taking a deep breath. “I could never deal with anything happening to you. And now, if it does, it's also happening to our child, and that makes it worse, Ames! I’m just...”

“Feeling a little overprotective?”

“Yeah!”

She giggles, which makes him feel kind of stupid, but then she stands on the tip of her toes and kisses him something sweet and lingering, and he figures he can’t have made too detrimental of a mistake. She smiles as she pulls back, and it’s such a safe smile, one saying I know you and it will be okay all at once. It’s easy to return it.

“Babe, I can protect myself. And until this child is born,” she says, moving her right hand to rest above his heart, “I promise to do everything in my power to protect them, too. I’ll go on desk duty, I won’t as much as touch a drop of alcohol, and I’ll try to stress less. Hell, I’ll drink decaf coffee for the next nine months for the sake of this baby.”

“Woah.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Save your applause. Point is, babe, I’ll keep them safe. Can you trust me to do that?”

He doesn’t have to think about his answer for long. In the eleven years he’s known the woman standing in front of him, he’s learned a lot about her. She’s the best person he knows - smart, brave, motivated and hard-working as hell - and on top of that, she’s fiercely loyal. Amy cares for the people around her, genuinely cares in a way that goes much further than sending the whole precinct Christmas cards or remembering every single one of her nieces’ and nephews’ birthdays.

Amy cares, and a lucky selection of people, she loves. Jake’s always seen it as the greatest honor of his life to get to be loved so deeply by her, and much like he confessed a late evening on their honeymoon when they recited their actual vows to each other, he plans on spending every day of their lives together trying to be worthy of it.

Amy loves, and the people she loves, she would go to the ends of the Earth to protect. There’s not a sliver of doubt in his mind about it, and the longer he thinks about it, the more certain he feels about two things.

First and foremost, that Amy will love their baby to pieces. If there’s one thing Jake’s looking forward to even more than meeting their baby himself, it’s getting to see the look in Amy’s eyes when she holds them for the first time. He already knows it will drive his heart crazy.

Secondly, he knows she’ll protect them. Amy’s a protector, always looking out for the people she loves, and even though she’ll roll her eyes at him when he does something decidedly harebrained, like hiding in a ceiling for a frivolous squad competition and breaking his ribs falling from it, she’s also the one insisting on driving him to the ER later. If she’s willing to love and look after him in that way, then Jake figures her level of commitment to protecting their child will be immeasurable.

Jake trusts Amy to keep their baby safe. He trusts her so much, he’d be willing to bet their car and apartment and everything else Amy’s told him he’s absolutely forbidden to bet, on it. His insecurities are rooted in the fact that he wants to protect this child, too, but aside from protecting Amy, he has no idea how to go about it for the upcoming nine months.

“I trust you,” he says, voice steadfast, and Amy looks pleased. “That's not the problem.”

“Good. So what is?”

“What should I do? Except wait impatiently for them to be born so I can help out?”

“Well,” she shrugs, “you could just keep doing what you're already doing.”

“What?”

“Being my partner,” Amy says calmly, eyes piercing into his. “Which you’re already great at. You can just be here, hug me when these crazy-ass hormones make me cry, listen and talk me down when I get anxious. All I want is for you to be by my side for this, as much as you can.”

“Hold your hair when you throw up, buy you a bunch of crazy food when you get cravings, always be available for sex whenever you reach the point in pregnancy when women get super horny?”

“Okay, slow down.” She rolls her eyes. “We don't know if any of that is going to happen yet. I haven't exactly done this before.”

“Point is I’ll do all of those things if you need me to,” he grins. “Of course I’ll be your partner, Ames. You don't have to ask. But I… I want to do everything I can for our baby.”

She strokes his cheek, reaching up to give him a chaste kiss. “Which is how I know you're going to make the greatest dad on Earth. But for now, babe, they don't need you yet.”

“Ouch.”

Amy laughs. “They’ll need you in nine months, and for the rest of their life after that. If you want to do what’s best for them, I’d suggest keeping yourself safe until then, and I’ll take care of us. Myself, and this wished-for, crazy loved little apple seed.”

He looks down at her stomach again as she says that, trying to imagine a tiny bump there. All he can procure in his head is the giant fake belly from her undercover mission in Texas, but he figures his frame of reference will grow soon enough.

“And once they gain a sense of hearing”, Amy continues, “you can start talking to them if you want. If you do, the books say they’ll recognize your voice once they’re born. You can come with me to all the appointments, maybe read some parenting books, and I’ll let you order the Die Hard-onesie and baby sneakers I know you’ve been eyeing online. We’re doing this together. I’m just going to do a bit more of it in the beginning. Okay?”

He places his hand over the one that’s on his heart, moving them both to her lower abdomen and nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I love you,” she whispers, another tear already trailing down her cheek. Jake wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too.”

They stand together for a moment, just hugging. It’s all he needs to feel a little more relaxed. He’s still certain he’s in for the wildest rollercoaster ride of his life, but Amy’s words and presence, the knowledge that he’s doing every step with her, is the over-the-shoulder harness to make sure he’s sitting safely for every second of it. The worry and fear of not doing enough is still there, but her trust in him makes it subdued.

“How are you so chill about this?” He asks when they separate, Amy getting a glass of water for herself before taking a smaller one and extending it to him.“Oh my god, Ames - has having my genome inside of you corrupted you?”

Amy snorts with laughter, spitting out water over herself and the sink. “That is so not how any of this works,” she gets out, coughing slightly.

“It’s not?”

“Not by a long shot. Anyway - you want to know why I’m calm?” Jake nods.

“Because I’m with you. I mean,” she says, folding her hands together and focusing her gaze at them. “Also because it’s super early. Honestly, I’m not sure I trust that it’s happening yet. I guess I need to have blood work done to confirm it, and I don’t know if I’ll fully believe it until we have an ultrasound and we can hear a heartbeat, but… a lot of it is because I know I’m doing this with you.” She looks up at him, a careful but firm smile on her lips. “So I know that no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay. Somehow.”

“We’re having a baby,” he whispers, and her smile grows wider.

“We’re having a baby.”

He’s not sure who closes the distance between them, or who kisses who first. All he knows is he lets himself get lost in it, immersing himself in the feeling of her lips on his, insistent and wanting, her arms around his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist when he lifts her so she’s sitting on the kitchen island. He pulls at the hem of her t-shirt, but she’s there before him, pulling it over her head and giving a meaning nod to signal at him to take off his own.

They end up in the bedroom, because as useful as their kitchen island can be, it always gives one of them a backache the next day and the bedroom is easier, full stop. The bedroom lets him worship her in another way, lets him do it slowly, devote his entire focus to the sounds she’s making instead of worrying about losing his balance. And he wants to worship her; maybe now more than ever, because he’s still trying to make up for the disaster that was the end of those six months, but also because he’s never been so certain that his wife is magic. She’s doing something extraordinary, and he wants to show her how much he loves her for it, loves her for what she’s willing to go through to grow their family.

He doesn’t know how much time passes - the duration slots on their war room calendars have become but a memory he’s happy to leave behind - but after, Amy curls into his side and rests her head on his arm. He plays with her hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of her forehead, and he can’t remember the last time he felt so at peace.

“Promise me one thing,” she mumbles in his ear, and he nods.

“Anything.”

“You are not allowed to become one of those men who become afraid to have sex with their pregnant wife because you think you’re going to poke the baby’s head.”

He gives her a haunted look. “I wasn’t going to until you pointed it out!”

“It’s not a thing! They’re well protected in there, and they won’t have a clue what’s happening anyway! So - not allowed.”

“Noted,” he mutters, trying to erase the picture from his head. Amy giggles, pecking his lips with a kiss.

“Great. So what are we doing today, to celebrate?”

“Well, I was trying to make pancakes, before I got distracted -”

“You want to go out to breakfast? As a family?”

The last word makes his heart flutter. “Okay.”

They end up going out to their favorite diner. Jake can’t help but make note of how many parents with their kids are there. He wonders if it’s an unusual amount today, or if he just never made note of them before. It doesn’t matter, because they bring up the same thought anyway; how soon, the couple who are trying to make their toddlers look up from the iPad long enough to be fed bites of toast could be him and Amy, or even sooner, the couple who takes turns eating and exchanging a fussing infant between them.

In the booth opposite theirs, two women are having breakfast while a ginger baby in a baby chair happily plays with a paper straw. Just as Jake is starting to wonder if he’s creepy for not being able to look away, the kid makes eye contact with him, grins and waves the chewed-up straw at him. Jake picks up his own from his drink, waving it back. The kid laughs at him, and Jake feels his heart melt in a way it’s never done with a stranger’s baby before.

“I can’t wait to take our kid here,” he tells Amy as he’s pouring syrup over his pancakes, and she shoots him a smile over the edge of her decaf-coffee cup.

“Me either.”

After breakfast, they stop at their neighborhood’s Target, because Amy wants the digital tests that say the word Pregnant and Jake wants to stock up on snacks so they can have a slug day with movies in bed. This time, the aisle of baby clothes doesn’t hurt to walk past, and after they’ve done so, he finds himself suggesting they’ll turn around.

They browse through little onesies and pants and hats with ears on them, pointing out their finds to each other with equal excitement. Eventually, they settle on footed pajamas with a pattern of grey stars - gender-neutral, soft, and even tinier than he imagined they’d be - and Jake tries to picture their child wearing them. It doesn’t seem completely real to him yet, but he says it to Amy anyway, and then he has to hug her when she starts crying again.

“These are happy tears,” she whispers, clutching the item between them. “Stupid hormones.”

“I know,” he laughs, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay.”

He still feels a little worthless thinking about everything his wife is going through, a little powerless and wishing there was more he could do, but he holds her as she’s crying in the baby clothing aisle of Target and thinks that if this is the best way he can protect her and their kid for now, he’ll gladly spend the rest of his days doing it.

(A month later, when he’s holding the first sonogram picture of their fetus in his hand and the sound of their ticking heartbeat is forever imprinted in his head, he knows it for certain.)

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction

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singulari-taee · 5 years ago

Text

The Danger in Duality | 07

BTS X Reader

CW: Some violence and explicit sexual content

“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students”

________________________________________________________

The sizzling against the metal tray should have been a warning, but you took it as an invitation. Your tongue burned as you shoveled food down. Missing meals wasn’t new in your field, but with the news, you needed something to distract the churning dread in your stomach.

Though the cafeteria did little to ease this dread. It had been three years since the last time you had a meal here, but everything about the place put you on edge. The sounds of chairs screeching against the floor brought back a wave of nostalgia. One that wasn’t welcomed. One that came with memories of rushed lunches and healing bloody knuckles.

You’d already graduated, left the hidden mountain compound to do what you were meant to do. So how come even then, years later, the sterile white walls made your hair stand on end?

“I would love to have a meal without being gawked at.” Hoseok said across from you.

Jimin spared a look up and met eyes with about half of the cafeteria. He immediately turned away, “Creepy much?”

“They’re j-juwst kids, give ‘em a b-break.” you tried through a burning mouth, “Shit that’s hawt.”

“Kids with criminal records that are literally here to be taught how to get away with murder. Or did you forget?” Jimin said, “And why don’t you wait for it to cool down? It’s not gonna run off your tray.”

You forced down a swallow, “I'm hungry now.”

The boys shared a look and shrugged.

“I guess I ate too much of this growing up. My stomach can’t take it anymore.” Seokjin said.

“Yeah I don’t think it can.” Jungkook said, going to poke Seokjin’s gut. The oldest prepped to backhand him, but Namjoon held his arm back.

The cafeteria food wasn’t bad by any means. You weren’t sure how The Academy got Michelin star chefs to work in the kitchen, but they never let you down. Though Seokjin had a point, if you hadn’t been desperate then you might have a problem with eating it too. The richness almost made you sick, every ingredient tasted like The Academy. You pushed the thought back and took another swallow.

“Why did we have to come all the way here to have the meeting with Mr. Kim?” Hoseok asked as he played with the food on his fork, “Couldn’t that have just been a videocall like usual?

“Knowing him, he just felt better delivering the message in person. It just felt too serious to talk about through a screen, you know?” Taehyung said.

“I heard that they’re searching the van and all our places for planted spyware,” Namjoon added, “They sent out a team while we were driving here. If there was something in the apartment that we didn’t find, then they could have listened into the meeting.”

“They went to our places? Shit, I’ve got roommates!” Jimin worried.

The thought of a man searching your apartment while Luna was around sent unease coursing through you.

“You know they’re discreet. I’m sure they considered that.” Namjoon said.

“You should worry about them finding your porn instead.” Jungkook snorted.

“Hell no, I hid that better than my weapons. They’ll never find it.”

“It’s The Academy we’re talking about, can you be so sure?” you asked.

Jimin’s face fell.

Behind Hoseok, you saw a boy extend his leg from his seat as another boy passed. The passing boy failed to look down, and his foot was caught. He lurched forward, nearly careening to the ground before Yoongi caught him.

The boy looked up at Yoongi and his entire face flushed. He quickly moved away and smoothed down his clothes.

“Hi!” the boy said, panicked. His eyes darted around the table, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do that. Fall on you, that is, Mr. Yoongi. I mean, sir! Um…”

“No problem.” Yoongi said shortly, “Just watch your step.”

Yoongi looked around at you all, a silent cry for help as the boy continued to stand there and stare.

“I’m a huge fan. You’re my idol.”

“Idol?” he began to laugh. Namjoon kicked him under the table. “I mean, wow I’m...honored? I, like, really appreciate it, kid.”

You all knew your squad member wasn’t comfortable around kids. You theorized it was because children were more moldable, more easily impressionable, and he didn’t want to be responsible for innevitably fucking them up. But this was The Academy after all, and this place had a way of doing that on it’s own.

“Yeah, I read up on your stats and techniques all the time. I want to be just like you when I leave this place.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best goal to have.”

“I mean it! I Iook up to you and I didn’t think that I would have the chance to ever tell you this so it sounds really stupid but I think you’re all really cool and wow just thanks for coming today.” He rambled.

Yoongi rubbed his neck, “‘ppreciate it...a lot. Thanks, I mean it.”

The boy stood there for a few seconds longer before running away from the table, “Okay, thanks again nice to meet you bye!”

Taehyung waved as he retreated, “That could have gone a lot worse, honestly. Poor kid.”

You noticed that Yoongi wasn’t stiff anymore. His shoulders were relaxed, and the hint of what looked like a smile had made an appearance. There was pride in his eyes. Not the usual arrogance, but instead fulfilment. You realized you had been smiling too.

“Huh. So he doesn’t make all orphans cry after all.” Jungkook mused, “Good job.”

“Nah, he wasn’t here long enough. If he was here for a minute longer Yoongi would have had the kid pissing himself. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” Hoseok said.

“Whatever, that was one time. That little shit had it coming.” Yoongi muttered as he ate.

“He stepped on your shoe...on accident.”

“Not my fault he was so sensitive. I just gave him some words of wisdom.”

“Saying you’d shatter his kneecaps if he touched you again are not words of wisdom.”

“There was a metaphor in there somewhere.”

“With that little boy just then...that was sweet.” you said to him, “Even for you Yoongi...I’m sure just that meant a lot to him.”

He didn’t look up at you, just shrugged and continued eating. It was a normal reaction for him to give you, and any other time you wouldn’t expect much. But for some reason, you wanted more from him, an acknowledgement, a smile even, or just for him to look at you. It felt like a quick jab to the gut, but you cleared your disappointment and went back to your meal.

Behind you, chairs violently scraped against the floor. There was scuffling and grunting, and what you knew to be the sound of fists hitting skin. You all saw a group of boys throwing punches. They had to be young because their movements had no goal, just a messy and angry flailing of limbs.

Around them, the cafeteria went on in the usual flow. No one paid attention to the fight, and carried on as if the boys didn’t exist. Fights outside of practice weren’t new, almost encouraged in a way. But it was different sitting there among the madness now that you were an outsider.

“Where’s the security? Where’s the adults?” Taehyung asked, scanning around the room after the fight had gone on for too long. There was a cry of pain.

“We are the adults.” you said.

Yes, it was encouraged. But that was if there was a lesson to be learned. From the looks of the bad technique, there was none.

“We really doing this?” Jimin whined, “C’mon, it builds character.”

“I mean, I fought during dinnertime too and I turned out fine.” Jungkook said.

“Debatable, honestly.” you said.

From across the room you saw someone pick up a tray from a table and slam it down on the person below.

You threw down your fork and ran from your table.

There were five boys in two different fights. A group of two rained punches down on one boy who was cowering on the floor. Next to them, another hit a boy with a metal tray as he straddled him. You went to the two boys first, yanking them back by their collars. They slammed against the floor, and looked ready to turn on you until they looked you over.

You moved to the second fight, where you caught the boy’s arm in midair before he could swing down on the boy he was beating. You jerked the tray away, making it slide across the floor. He tried to use his other hand to punch at you, but you caught it in your fist and twisted it behind his back. He looked up at you for the first time, and you saw all the color drain from his face.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you I-”

“Get. Off.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

Taehyung and Jungkook were suddenly there. The young boys looked like they had stopped breathing altogether as they took in you and your two squad members.

The three of you bent down to help the beaten boys to their feet.

“Leave.” Jungkook said. The three boys jumped to their feet and sprinted out of the cafeteria.

“You alright?” Taehyung asked the one beaten by the tray. He turned his bruised face to him and a pang of recognition hit. Images of bloody concrete and machetes took over his mind.

“You. I’ve seen you before. The garage! At the casino!”

The swollen eyes were easily recognizable, as the last time he had seen the boy he was being beaten to a pulp on the floor of the abandoned parking garage. It had only been a day.

Taehyung was sure the other boy was also in the lineup that night.

“You’re the guy that didn’t kill me.” the boy said through his busted lips, “Thanks...for that.”

“Yeah of course...are you okay?” he asked the boys.

“It’s just been a bad first day,” the other boy said.

“I’m gonna go back to my room now. Thanks again.” they gave you a pitiful glance before limping out of the room.

The three of you shared a look, one that you all understood.

They worked fast.

_______________________

All of the lights in the building had come to a slow dim, a silent sign that it was nearing time for bed. The kids flooded the halls on their way back to their dormitories. Something urged you to join them, blend in among the crowd and turn in for the night.

Jimin took a step forward and stopped himself, laughing, “Woah. Its like this place still has this hypnotic mind fuck of a hold on me. My mind is saying ‘follow them’. I swear I just got sleepy.”

“Years of conditioning will do that to you.” Hoseok said, “But we’re grown ups, remember? We don’t have a bedtime. Let’s take advantage of it.”

“What’s that mean?” Yoongi asked.

He had the idea to simply explore, walk the halls with your new graduate freedom and see what had become of the place. Soon after the eight of you were packed tightly, roaming the corridors, listless. It was a strange feeling, like you were breaking some sort of rules.

“Looks the same.” Jungkook said. He stood in the entrance to the library, arms folded.

“No, look, they took away the creepy paintings.” Taehyung noted, pointing to the walls. Sure enough, they were replaced with posters. If only this change had happened when you used to spend your long nights studying here years ago. You would have appreciated not looking up and seeing portraits of old men staring back at you. Come to think of it, you didn’t even know who they were paintings of- never cared to check either.

Going along and taking a right, you all neared the Aquatic Wing. The smell of chlorine was thick and almost calming, but Hoseok noticeably stiffened by your side. As you stared at the large pool through the window, he shuddered.

“This was hell.”

“For you. Water training was the best part of the week.” Jimin snorted.

“That’s because you’re an actual pervert.” Namjoon noted.

“And spent the whole time ranking girls in their swimsuits.” You added, “And don’t even try to lie, we all saw your list.”

“And if you remember, you were pretty high up on that list, I must say.”

Water training was not as cut and dry as one would hope. It was made up of endurance testing, speed drills, and air control to lengthen how long every trainee could hold their breath. If your time hadn’t improved by the end of the semester, you’d be placed in extra courses- like Hoseok.

He was never a water guy. Sure, Hoseok was good at a lot of things, but swimming was never one of them. He believed it was probably something rooted in his childhood, a fear he couldn’t quite remember the exact start of. Anytime he was around water, he felt weak.

Just seeing the still pool made his heart quicken. Too many classes did he spend on the verge of hyperventilating, and bursts from his memory made his breathing go shallow.

“I think it’s time to move on, yeah?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he walked away.

The group shared a look. Everyone knew about Hoseok’s relationship with water, and it was no surprise that he would want to get away. Every time he had opted to stay on land during any missions at sea could have told you that.

Past the Aquatic Wing was the section you hated most. You were met with a set of double doors and a large window that showed a room with a singular chair and monitors. Some technicians were still inside, shutting down the computers and machines. You gulped.

“The Pressure Room.” Yoongi said, a mere breath.

That wasn’t the official name, but the nickname that spread amongst the trainees was fitting enough.

“This was the stuff of my nightmares.” Taehyung said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I still don’t know how I passed this class.”

“It took me three tries but I did it.” Seokjin sighed, “______ and Jungkook are the only people I know who passed the first time around.”

“I knew ____ could pass, but how did you pass?” Jimin asked, turning to Jungkook, “You’re riled up all the time.”

“Shit was easy enough.” he shrugged.

Their voices seemed to drown out as you stared at the chair. It was as if you could feel the cold leather, the taut wires on your skin as you sat there, room dark illuminated with the glow of the screen. It read your vitals, everything about your body’s functions on display to be evaluated by the technician.

“The new number is 52 beats per minute. Get your heart rate down to that in the next 10 minutes and you’ll be released.” The woman had said this one particular time.

Your upper body was constricted by a straight jacket, and your inability to move had already caused minor panic. It hadn’t started out that intense. First day there were no restraints, then handcuffs, then it was upped to hanging upside down from the straps on the ceiling. The number to get your heart to had dropped every week, but 52 was nearing impossible. But this was the final exam- it had to be extreme. And hell if you’d fail and take this damned course again.

You had noted a crate in the corner, but it was covered to hide the contents. You’d heard from others that the straitjacket wasn’t the only part. There was more, and it was different for every person. You’d braced for the worst and closed your eyes as you had heard the beep of your own heart. It was slowing, but then you heard the woman open the crate. Soon after there was a sudden weight on your lap. You peeked your eyes open and attempted to not jump out of your own skin. A fat snake rested on your legs and slowly moved up your body. It’s head neared your face, and the beeping on the monitor jolted into overdrive.

“Calm yourself.” you had heard the woman instruct through your frantic breathing, “Do that and it’ll be over soon enough. Get to 52.”

Jungkook and some of the others wanted to visit the Weapons Control Unit, but you opted to go your own way. With a wave, you all parted and you carried on down another hallway.

You happened upon a wide room with a large silver telescope in the middle. It faced up to the open window on the ceiling, long as if reaching up to the heavens. The moonlight was the only guide in the darkness. It had been one of your few solaces in The Academy. A place where you could find peace in the darkness and just look at the stars, so far away yet they managed to ground you.

As you browsed, you felt the energy in the room shift, a slight and silent difference. From the aura alone, you knew who had joined you.

You sighed, “Thought you were going down memory lane with the others.”

“Decided to take a rain check.”

A hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, your back hitting a wall. He had been so quiet, you didn’t even know he was that close. Damned assassins and their silent steps.

Two arms caged you in on both sides of your head, “I would rather not see Jungkook nut himself over the artillery collection again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi shrugged, “Pretty sure it’s happened before.”

He was so close. You could feel his body heat radiate from the space between you. He ducked his head down as if to meet his lips to yours, and you moved your face away. He froze.

“What?”

“Is there something you fucking need?” you asked your squad member, eyebrow raised.

Yoongi shrugged, “I mean yeah, I was hoping to finish what you started earlier. Perfect place, dark, no cameras, under the stars....”

“What I started?” you laughed without humor, “Yeah, sure.”

He pushed back a bit to get a better look at your face, “Everything okay?

“Yeah I mean, this whole thing is just weird. Back at the apartment and at dinner tonight you don’t even look at me, but 24 hours ago you were knuckles deep in my pussy.”

“I’m just being normal. I didn’t mean to be an asshole. I just thought normal was what we agreed on.”

“This whole arrangement isn’t normal, though.”

“So you want our entire dynamic to change in front of the guys? You know someone will notice, I didn’t think you wanted the extra attention on us. My bad I just...thought it was business as usual when they’re around...and that meant not really talking.”

Business as usual. That snapped you out of your feelings for a bit. He was right, why did you suddenly want it to mean more than a hookup when it couldn’t be?

You sighed, “You know what? You’re right, I don’t know why I was making it a whole thing. We said it was just sex and I don’t know why I expected more from you. Sorry.”

He was looking above your heads towards the light, thinking, “Don’t apologize. I can go too far sometimes. Maybe I should stop being as much of a dick to you.”

“As much?” you asked.

“Yeah, can’t stop completely, that’s going too far.” he grinned.

He looked down at your lips and began to move closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. Your mouths crashed together, feverish and hot. It was sloppy as your tongues fought for dominance. You pulled his bottom lip with your teeth and he groaned, his grip on your waist tighter.

“Wait, wait,” you said. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled away, “I don’t know if this is the best place to be doing this.”

Yoongi sighed, “People hooked up here all the time back in training, it's fine.”

Common sense tried to steer you away, and the risk was making it hard to focus. You were both still on The Academy’s property, and though it was easier to get away with back in the day, a single slip up now could cost you both everything.

“Everyone's asleep and security shouldn't come this way for another hour,” he said, eyes searching yours in the moonlit room. His hands went to your jaw cupping your face, “We can be quiet.”

Again, you felt your resolve shatter as your lips met again.

You were pressed tight against the wall, and you felt one of his hands disappear from your face. It was soon where you needed it most, going to calm the aching in your core. His fingers dipped down your pants and you sucked in a deep breath.

“Oh fuck.”

“Wet already? Just can’t wait, huh.” he smirked.

You didn't answer, instead holding eye contact as you held in your pleasure. Your hands went to the zipper of his pants, sliding it down and reaching for the bulge there. He closed his eyes, groaning as he tried to hold himself back.

“Guess you can’t wait either.” you gave him a sly smile.

Without warning you pushed him backwards, making him hit the telescope with a bang. Hand still down his pants, you reached into his underwear and held the shaft of his dick in your hands. It was heavy, twitching as it yearned to be touched. You began to jerk him off, watching his mouth open as he moaned out. His middle finger traced your folds before dipping into your pussy. You let out a huff as he pumped it in and out, and he laughed.

“Don’t hold back, you know you like it.” he whispered.

“Gotta do more to get a reaction out of me, Yoongi.”

His eyebrows raised, and in one swift motion your back was against the telescope. He turned you over so your palms and cheek hit the cold metal. He stood behind you.

“What are you-”

Yoongi kneeled and pulled your pants and panties down. His hands went to cup the underside of your ass as he spread you before him. Soon after you felt the slick, warm muscle you dreamt of dive into you.

“Ohhh!” you moaned out, hands going to fists as his tongue worked you from behind. He lapped you up, collecting your juices as you dripped for him without control. His tongue plunged in and out of your pussy and you bent over more to give him a better angle. You were breathing heavy, your mind clouded by euphoria as you felt his mouth travel up and his tongue worked your ass.

“Yoongi! Oh god, please…” you couldn’t help the sting of profanity that followed. Two of his fingers pumped into you as his tongue worked, curling in a way that made you lightheaded. You lifted your leg, putting your foot on a bench to give him better access, “Shit, shit, shit, fuckkkkk.”

The sounds of his slurping were crude and embarrassing, the noise bounced off the walls and mixed with your mewls. His free hand massaged your thigh, kneading into your shaking legs that threatened to give out from under you.

“Could you be any louder?” he whispered. You could hear the smugness in his voice.

You bucked back on his face as he continued to eat you out from the back. His hand on your thigh moved to your stomach, as he pushed you further back into him. His tongue made you feel like you were nearing ascension. It was electric. Chills racked your body and you felt your strength leave every time it moved against you. You felt the pressure in your abdomen building.

“I’m about to cum, I’m about to cum-” it came crashing into you, and you clung onto the metal as the room spun, “I...f...fuck.”

“Oh shit,” he breathed behind you, surprised by the gush that left you.

You took a moment to come down from your high and turned your head to him. His face was wet, glistening in the moonlight. He smiled, wiping your slickness onto the back of his hand.

“More.” you said weakly, “Put it in me Yoongi, I want more.”

“You want it?” he asked, lips to your ear as you felt the tip of his dick tease up and down your ass, “Tell me how bad, I’m not gonna cave in so easily.”

“You want me to beg?” you asked. You felt his hand go up your shirt and squeeze your breast as his thumb tweaked your nipple.

“Don’t be too prideful, just-” his hand moved from your chest to your throat. His dick was pressed to your ass, and he squeezed the side of your neck. You let out an airy breath, “Still don’t want to beg for it?”

“Yoongi,” his chest pressed tight to your back, “I need it so bad it hurts.”

You told him the night before that you wouldn’t cave in to letting him fuck you so easily. It was a power move of sorts. One that you thought you’d be able to hold out on longer. You wanted it, needed it badly, and your aching for him made you put your pride and power aside to have him where you needed him.

“Okay, baby. That’s all you had to say.”

You spread your feet apart again, and behind you he adjusted himself. Bending over, you felt him rub himself over your still slick pussy. He paused at your entrance, taking a deep breath and muttering something before slowly pushing forward. He plunged through you slowly and you let out a cry as you adjusted to the size of him. Yoongi cursed under his breath, bottoming out. He rocked slowly at first, feeling the way you constricted against him.

“Shit,” he hissed, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He thrusted faster, his hips meeting your ass in a nasty beat that ricocheted off the walls. You could see your breath against the cool telescope metal, puffs that left your body whenever he entered.

His grip on your throat tightened, leaving you a whining mess as he thrusted deep into your core. You were lightheaded, clouded with pleasure.

“Y-yoongi it...feels s-so good,” you managed. You felt full, the sensation making your knees weak and your heart soar, “Oh my god!”

You pushed back against him, meeting him in the middle every time he thrusted forward.

“Woah, ah shit,” he cursed, “You feel so good, _____. Fuck I can’t hold on for much longer. You’re amazing.”

You felt the pressure building again, and he pulled you back by your throat causing you to bend into him. It wasn’t uncomfortable, your flexibility was to thank for that, and you smiled as he fiddled with your clit with his other hand. It was too much- the feeling of being rammed and filled to the brim, the grip around your throat that made the room go fuzzy and you go breathless, the strokes to your clit that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Oh shit I’m about to cum again.” you said as your palms slapped desperately against the telescope. You were trying to cling onto something, anything to ground you from flying away in ecstacy.

“I’m right behind you, cum baby. Come on.”

Moments later the pressure reached its peak and detonated in your abdomen. The dark room exploded with light for the briefest moment, your hairs standing on end as another wave of chills racked your body. The sounds that left you were embarrassing, but you could barely hear them over the ringing in your ears.

Yoongi moaned as you squeezed him, following your release soon after with heavy breaths and curses. He shot his load into you, and you felt the warmth fill you up then slide down your leg when he pulled out.

He deflated, and with a heavy sigh dropped his chest onto your back. His hands touched the telescope too, a sorry attempt to hold himself and not leave his weight on you. He panted and left small kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“Shit.” he breathed.

“Ditto.” you chuckled, turning to look at him.

He was drained. His eyes were tired but held an unusual focus and fascination- as if he was taking mental snapshots. He looked through that lens in awe, “You’re special, you know that?”

As your afterglow dimmed, his gaze suddenly held more weight on your skin. The room came back into focus, and your ears caught up. You shrugged away from his stare, looking at the black walls past him. You felt an uneasiness deep from your chest.

“I’ve been telling you that for years. Finally you listen to me.”

“Yeah...finally.”

You cleared your throat and went to pull up your pants. Your thighs were still slick, and you took a mental note to make a trip to the showers tonight.

“Guess we better hurry back before the boys start to ask questions.” you said.

“Yeah.” Yoongi said, fixing his pants.

You stretched out your limbs, feeling the sore ache between your legs when you began to walk. Composing yourself, you both walked out of the dark observatory and back into the sterile halls.

It was a pretty silent walk, nothing but your own steps to listen to. Yoongi wasn’t one to talk without reason, so it left you to fill in the gap in conversation. But without the snide jabs, you both fell short. You came up empty, and the thoughts of his earlier ramblings filled your mind instead.

“Hey,” he began, “It’s way too late to be asking this but...you’re still on birth control right?”

“Yeah, it’s mandatory, remember? The Academy can’t be having their employees getting knocked up.”

“Ah, right. Sorry. I’ll be more careful...next time.”

The two of you made it to the dormitory wing. When you rounded the corner, you were met with a tall frame and face of confusion.

“Oh there you both are.” Namjoon huffed, “Where were you? I went to your rooms and neither of you were there.”

“We ran into one of the old trainers and got stuck talking for a while.” Yoongi said dryly.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, “Huh. Weird, I swore the only staff that’s supposed to be around at this hour is security. They must have changed some rules since we left.”

“So what did you want to talk to us about?” you redirected.

“I just wanted to let everybody know we’re leaving at 8 tomorrow morning. So get a good night’s rest and try to get some breakfast before we hit the road.”

“Sure thing.” you smiled tightly, patting Namjoon on the shoulder as you walked past to your room.

Namjoon walked to his own door, giving a lazy wave before closing himself in for the night.

Yoongi stood in front of your door, “You calling it a night?”

“Yeah right after I wash up because you know...your cum is probably at my ankles by now.” you whispered.

“Okay I said I was sorry about that, didn’t have much of a choice,” he rolled his eyes, “What about, you know, after?”

“Um, sleep?”

He rubbed his neck, looking everywhere but at you, “Alone?”

You shifted feet, “I mean I was planning on it. The bed is only so big, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, true.”

“And I don’t know how much sleep we’d be able to get. We have to wake up early tomorrow and there’s the risk of someone seeing you leaving in the morning too...so…”

“No, you’ve got a point. I wasn’t thinking.”

He turned to walk to his door down the hall and waved, “G’night.”

You nodded with a small smile, “‘Night.”

Closing the door, you found yourself restless yet again between those walls.

_____________

The lull of the weekday was almost a comfort after the weekend. Textbook pages flipped, a crackle in the air that was merely an accent to the lecture.

“So is it moral for Gorlagon to punish the queen the way that he did?” the professor asked the class, “By making her face her crimes, she has to acknowledge her infidelity. But being given her lover’s decapitated head to kiss and hold seems to be going far, is it not?”

You were taking notes and heard Hoseok groan at your side.

“Medieval literature is so fucked up. Why did you make me take this class with you?” he whispered.

“You literally kill people for a living.” you deadpanned.

“Yeah but I’ve never cut anyone’s head off.”

“Oh yeah sorry, my bad.” you said, sarcasm dripping.

“Whatever, you know there’s a line even we try not to cross.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn't ever do it even if they asked you to?”

“Well yeah, if the price was right, sure I would.” he said, “Oh come on like you wouldn’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“No I would. Just add it to the list of things I already probably need to get therapy for.”

“What therapist can you talk to about mass murder?” .

You shrugged, “Let me know when you find out.”

“It’s cruel and unusual but it gets the point across I must say.” the professor continued, “And werewolves aside, it's a pretty accurate depiction of what happens when human emotion drives man. But what do you all think?”

A girl at the front raised her hand, “I agree, I think it shows the evil in people. And even though the head cutting thing is gross, it works to warn other cheaters of the consequences.”

“I don’t know, I’d like to disagree and say it’s not that accurate. At least from a literal standpoint.” Hoseok said when he raised his hand.

“Go on, open discussions are always welcome.” the professor prompted.

“Well realistically you wouldn’t be able to carry around a decapitated head for much longer than a couple days before the decaying process starts to become really noticeable. Autolysis starts a couple minutes after death, and when the tissues break down so will the skin and internal organs. And the story doesn’t even tell you what the timeline is from the actual events to when Gorlagon tells the story to Arthur. I’d guess around a couple months, but like, that's a long time. I’m assuming the cut was made with a sword or axe given the time period, but probably an axe because it’s a lot better for that kind of thing, so it should be a pretty clean slice which should help the queen hold the head easier but still, the decay after months would have the skin peeling off into her hands at that point. So I don’t know I just don’t see how that would work.”

The class went silent. You could only stare down at your notes and wish to disappear. If you could scoot away from Hoseok without drawing attention to yourself, you would. A few others turned to look at him.

“Wow. Great take, Hoseok. I love having med students in my class for this reason. So helpful.”

The professor carried on with the lecture, and Hoseok sunk down in his seat.

“Did I really just-?

“Sure did. Hated every second of it.” you said.

“But it wasn’t that bad right?”

No answer was your answer.

Everyone was released for the day, and the entire walk to the library Hoseok tried to justify his thoughts, more so to himself than you.

Yoongi was on his phone and took in your clear annoyance as you approached.

“What happened?”

“Hoseok basically told the whole class he’s a serial killer.”

“That’s not what happened!”

“Hoseok, the professor assumed you were a med student.”

“Well, I got participation points today and you didn’t. I have a class in 10, I’ll see you later.”

He walked away and left you and Yoongi alone. You wished Hoseok had stayed to level the awkwardness that was developing between you and Yoongi. When the group came back from the headquarters, you stayed in your apartment for the rest of the weekend. It was your first time seeing your squad member since the ride back home.

“How were classes today?” you asked.

“Nothing too exciting. Sounds like yours was, though.”

You groaned, “When I tell you I wanted to die.”

“Should we be worried about anybody finding out about our...jobs.”

“Nah, I think we’re safe.”

You walked up to the help desk, and pulled out a flashdrive from your backpack, “Hi, are the printers still broken? I need to get this file off for one of my classes.”

The lady at the desk looked at you quizzically, “No they work just fine. We haven’t had any issues with them in a couple months.”

“They weren’t broken? But...” you played back Luna’s words from last week in your head, “Um, okay great, can you please print out the 2nd file under the ‘Projects’ folder?”

She took your flash drive and walked to the back.

“What?” Yoongi asked, noting your clear confusion.

“I could have sworn Luna said the printers were broken last week. That’s why she had to come over to your place.”

“You sure she said the library’s printers? It could have been the one in the humanities building, they have them there too.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You took your flash drive and papers when the woman returned and walked to the exit.

“You’re done for the day, right?” Yoongi asked, shielding his eyes with his hands when you both stepped into the sunshine.

“Yeah, I’m kind of floating around right now, though. You?”

“Yeah I’m about to go back home.” he said, “We’re getting another mission later today so if you have to, you could come over early. None of the boys are going to be back home for a while so...” his voice getting lower.

You turned to him dramatically, “Are you inviting me over?

“Nevermind, forget it.”

“I mean you’re always kicking me out. Wow this is so new I don’t know what to do.”

“Nothing. Don’t come.”

“I can’t deny the invitation, are you crazy?” you continued to push his buttons until you both were walking through the door of his shared apartment.

The place held an unusual serenity and peace, unusual for anywhere that housed 4 men.

“You said they’re not home right?” you asked as you dropped your bag on the barstool.

“Nope.”

“So...we have it to ourselves?” you asked, leaning against the countertop, taking in his lithe frame as he sat on the couch.

He nodded, little in his expression.

“Well, I’m going to go to the bathroom really quick. One second.”

You went down the hall to what you knew to be his bedroom. It was clean, simple, and borderline boring. Yoongi wasn’t one for much decoration besides a poster and a plant by his window. His bed was made up neatly with black and silver accents- a queen that looked like it hugged you when you laid in it.

Walking past the bed, you moved to the bathroom and looked yourself over in the mirror. You fixed your hair, smoothed down your clothes and turned to make sure your ass looked okay in your pants. With the place to yourselves, you were ready to feel his hands on you again. The thought made your heart jump quickly, and you worked to calm yourself before walking out the bathroom.

You sauntered back into the living room, a little more sway in your hips than usual. You looked at the sofa, but it was empty.

“You want anything while I'm in here?” he called from the kitchen, “I’m not getting up again once I sit down.”

You claimed your spot on the sofa, eyebrows furrowed, “Uh, yeah I’ll take some water.”

He came back into the living room with your water, a beer for himself, and a bowl of chips.

“So...what did you want to do?” you asked, sipping tentatively.

“There’s this movie on Netflix I’ve been wanting to watch forever. You know that new one with the girl from the drama Seokjin was watching?” he mistook your baffled expression for aversion, “You have anything else you want to watch?”

“No, um, that sounds...fine.”

The two of you sat in silence while the movie played. You weren’t following at all, wrapped up in your own thoughts. Did you misread him? No, why else would he invite you over when the boys weren’t home if it wasn’t to hookup? You glanced over at him, covered in the rays of the stretching sun as it set. He was completely wrapped up in the movie. Not once did he make a move, and you were scared of how much you craved his touch.

As your eyes roamed his delicate features, a part of you began to soften at his concentration. The way his lips tilted up at a funny scene, and then went back to a pout, as if he was trying to hide his entertainment. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair, anything just to feel him.

Without breaking from the television, he held out the bowl to you.

Breaking from your thoughts, you took some and turned back to the movie.

“You’re not even watching.” he suddenly said.

“I am!” you insisted.

“What’s going on right now?” he asked.

You racked your brain for an answer, and the two characters fighting on the screen did nothing to help. Truth be told, you had no idea, but you couldn’t give up so quickly.

“You’re trying to test me? That’s bullshit.”

He finally looked at you, “You don’t know what’s going on.”

You edged closer, grabbing the chips and settling in next to him.

“Can you explain it?”

He gave you a sour look, “You want me to explain an hours worth of movie? Forget it.”

“Fine I’ll just look up the summary.” you said, pulling out your phone.

“Don’t do that, you’ll spoil the ending!” he said. You fiddled the device in your hand, thumb hovering over the search engine, “Shit. Fine, I’ll make it as simple as possible.”

He went on for a minute breaking down the plot and characters. It made more sense, but as you watched him explain it, you couldn’t help but notice some misplaced hairs that flapped everytime he moved his head. It was distracting, and without any self control, your urge to touch him took over. You smoothed the dark tresses, combing it with your fingers and patting it into place.

Yoongi paused and cleared his throat, “And now, uh, they’re trying to get back before time runs out. And that's basically it. You get it? You better.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him, “Yeah, I get it now. Thanks.”

The film played in the background, and for the first time since it started, he wasn’t watching. He seemed to be contemplating something in his head, a question.

The faint creak of the stairs came from outside, and immediately you jumped to the opposite end of the sofa. The keys jingled in the lock, and the boys filed in.

“I just think that's bullshit!” Namjoon raged.

“Just talk to your professor about it, that's all you can do.” Seokjin said.

“Why’s Joon so pissed?” you asked Jimin when he claimed the spot between you and Yoongi.

“His professor didn’t give him the grade he thinks he deserved for his presentation so he might not make the Chancellor's List this semester.”

“I do deserve it, first of all. It was the best one up there are you kidding me?”

“Oh no, you won’t make Chancellor’s List, you’ll fall from grace and make the Dean's List instead...big fucking whoop. If you want to swap GPAs with me, be my guest.”

“You still have finals, you can always bring it up. Don’t stress it.” Taehyung advised.

“He acts like he’s going to have an aneurysm if he doesn’t get above a 95, give me a break. We’re being hunted and he’s worried about grades.” Jungkook muttered as he sat on the arm of the couch. He looked down at you, “Why are you here?”

You turned to him slowly, “Ouch?”

“You know, before us. With just him.” Jungkook said, nodding over at Yoongi.

“She broke in like usual.” Yoongi said.

“Ouch?” you repeated.

“Alright it’s almost time.” Seokjin said as he pulled out his laptop.

When it hit the hour, Mr. Kim appeared on the screen, sitting at his usual desk with a fresh pressed suit.

“I’m glad to have seen you all this weekend, even if it was for a terrible reason. For now just be cautious and report anything that raises concern.”

You all agreed, and he carried on.

“Well this assignment should put everyone at ease a bit. It’s a smaller mission with not as much on the line,” three mugshots flashed, each of men in soiled clothes, “These three men make up what's believed to be small cult that kidnaps and murders their victims for religious sacrifices. 21 people have gone missing in the past 2 years for these sacrifices. Some bodies have been discovered, and they all have the same markings: a burned circle on their wrists. These men were given the minimum sentence, but then were released 2 months into serving it after a review of tampered evidence. The man on the far right is the cousin of a member of the presidential council. We believe he has a role in their release.”

The screen switched to a photo of a cabin in the woods.

“This is where they conduct their sacrifices. They arrived at this house 2 days ago and have not left since. Case files say they average one sacrifice a month, so given the timeline of the murders, another should be in the works at any moment. None of them have records of impressive combat skills, so this should be a very low risk mission for you. Because of this, we won’t dispatch the entire team. We’ll need Yoongi and _______ to carry out the job, and Seokjin on surveillance duty. Any questions?”

“No, sir.” Seokjin answered.

“To the 3 on the assignment, I’ll send exact coordinates for the cabin shortly. Ah, I almost forgot to mention, your residences all came back clean of any planted devices. Other than the mic Seokjin found, the van was clean as well.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“But we’ve concluded that the van was tampered with and moved because they not only wanted you to find the device, but to let you know that they know where you all are and have access to you whenever they want.”

And just like that, the anxiety was back.

“Well great.” Jimin whispered.

“Did you get any intel on their location?” Namjoon asked.

“We’re still working on finding the precise one. But after researching we’ve narrowed it down and honestly it’s...concerning. Our other units were stationed all over the world and Anti still targeted them with devastating results.”

“Well...where do you think it is?”

“Likely, given the van incident and the materials they used to make the mic...their hideout is within 20 miles of you all.”

Previous Next

__________________________________________________________

We back baybee!

Let me know what you think of the update! Curious to know which direction you think its going...

As always thanks for reading! Feels good to be back.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts angst #yoongi angst #did #the danger in duality #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jmin #taehyung #jungkook #bts x reader #bts au #kpop fanfic

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bensakindofmagic · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: look at how fucking soft he is in this pic, i'm weeping, imagine opening facetime and seeing that face

Warnings: none, just fluff

w/c: 3.1k+

Chapter Eighteen

Filming was tough. The light was sparse in Scotland at that time of year, so everything had to be ready to go the second the sun came up in order to maximise productivity. It was cold and windy, and often raining, and if it weren’t for a delightful cast and crew you would have been thoroughly miserable. You weren’t nearly so close with them as the Borhap boys, but they kept you in decent spirits. The real hardship, however, was being away from Ben. For as long as you’d known each other you hadn’t spent more than two days apart — even when you were barely on speaking terms you still saw him everyday. Your colleagues noticed how often you were on your phone during breaks (and you were sure there were some people who resented what they perceived to be anti-social behaviour), but it was because every time you looked Ben had sent you a dozen messages: pictures of Frankie, a link to a video that he thought you’d find funny, news articles that he thought would interest you, pictures he found on the internet, but more often than not just a message to say he missed you. You guessed that the separation was probably harder for Ben, given that he was the remaining party. You left for a new environment that he had never been in, and while you ached for him often, work kept you busy and there were plenty of people round to distract you. Ben was left with a hole where you used to be, an empty place on the sofa or at the table, and a sudden lack of company (though you noticed on social media that he was suddenly spending a lot more time meeting up with old friends, which made you happy). But at certain moments, like when you were standing in the pouring rain and shivering as the sunlight began to dwindle, you were desperate for him to wrap his strong arms around you and carry you to bed, where he would proceed to hold you tightly until all the chill had been chased from your bones. You felt a buzz in your pocket, somewhere in the great depths of your coat. It was a message from Ben asking when you were due to wrap for the day.

Y/N: about 5.30pm. can’t wait to have a shower i’m freezing my bollocks off

Ben: You don’t have any bollocks

Y/N: well not anymore obviously!!

Ben: Facetime at 6?

Y/N: better make it 6.30, it’s going to take a while to warm me up

Ben: Wish I was there to help ;)

You were relieved when the director declared that there wasn’t enough light and you’d have to wrap it up for the day. Performing your duties as swiftly and efficiently as possible, you raced back to your hotel room and peeled off layers of clothing that had seemingly frozen onto your skin and jumped in the shower. You stood under the water for a long while, letting it hit your head and trickle down your body, warming you up little by little. You thought back to times when Ben would be in that shower with you, and your whole body would feel as thought it was on fire, though it had nothing to do with the scalding water. But the smile that adorned your face at the memory was melancholic, and soon you longed to be out of the shower and on your laptop to talk to him. You made a cup of tea, put on your fluffiest pyjamas, and sat down on the bed to call Ben just in time. His name popped up on your screen with a now familiar ringtone.

“Hey, Benny!” you delighted as you saw his face on your screen, as close as he could feel in the present circumstances.

“Hi gorgeous!” he smiled brightly and held Frankie up to the screen to wave hello with her little paw, “I’ve missed you.”

“What, since we facetimed last night and texted two hours ago?”

“Yes. I’ve missed your cuddles.”

You sighed, you’d missed his too. The long distance would have been okay if it weren’t for how much you ached to hold each other. Day-to-day, Ben expressed most of his affection through touch and you could see more and more how tough he was finding being denied that.

“I was thinking about you in the shower today,” you mused.

He smirked, “Is that so? What were you doing while you were thinking about me?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “That’s not really what I meant,” — though the question was certainly warranted, Ben didn’t need to know the answer just yet — “I was thinking about how much I miss you holding me. Not to get too soppy or anything.”

“Well you know how soppy I am, love,” he assured. That made you smile.

“I just miss touching you — not in a sexy way! Although that too — it’s the feel of you, you know?”

He nodded, reassuring you that he knew exactly what you meant. It hadn’t even been a month and you were both struggling more than you cared to admit. You’d missed your first Valentine’s Day together, and even though Ben had sent you flowers and you’d had a long and eventful video chat, part of you felt like you were missing out. You’d spent much of the early part of your relationship hiding it from those around you, and though you had those three precious weeks to be unashamedly in love, you now felt bitterly as though you would miss the best part of the honeymoon phase.

“So tell me about your day, love.”

You related all the gossip that the day had brought, jokes shared with your colleagues, how someone had to go running off through the highlands chasing a false beard that had been torn off by the wind. He laughed in all the right places and asked all the right questions. He, in turn, told you that he’d gone to the gym (which he’d been doing more often since you’d been gone), and met with a director for lunch to talk over a possible job. He was excited about it: you could see how much he wanted it, despite trying to convince you (as much as himself) that it was early days and he wasn’t getting his hopes up. He remarked how’d he’d sneezed five times in a row which he was sure was some kind of record — you laughed but noticed how he looked a little paler than usual and how he kept sniffing, and predicted that he was about to get a cold.

You accepted the call to receive an image of Ben wrapped in a duvet cocoon with a steaming mug in hand and tissues strewn about the place.

“How’re you doing, darling?” you cooed.

“I’m sick.” His nose, red and sore, was clearly blocked. He was pale and clammy, and his hair, damp with sweat, hung limply over his forehead.

“Mm, I can see that.”

“See? I told you I couldn’t cope without you!” he whined.

“It’s just a cold, Benny, you’ll live. Just drink lots of fluids and get plenty of sleep, okay?”

He frowned, looking remarkably like a toddler who’d just been denied an ice cream, “I was looking for sympathy, not instructions.”

You laughed and soothed him as best you could. As much as you opted for the ‘tough love’ approach, you wished you could be there to make him cups of hot water with honey and lemon, and bring him a new box of tissues when he finished the last one, and cuddle on the sofa with him watching old Disney movies. You wanted to stroke his hair and tuck him into bed.

Apparently he wanted the same because after chatting for a little while, when his eyelids started to droop and his head got heavy, he quietly asked, “Will you sing for me?”

“Sing? What do you want me to sing for?”

He shrugged, an embarrassed smile lacing his lips, “I’ve missed it. You sing all the time when you’re here, the place feels empty without it. I’ve been playing music a lot but it’s not the same.”

You chuckled, and went quiet. You allowed the silence to seep into your soul, to expand inside you and push all the noise for your mind. In its place a melody began softly and it danced off your lips.

‘Looking out on the morning rain, I used to feel uninspired,

And when I knew I’d have to face another day, Lord it made me feel so tired.

Before the day I met you, life was so unkind.

Your love was the key to my peace of mind.’

The tiredness abated from Ben’s face, instantly soothed. Frown lines evaporated and his skin was left velvety smooth. His eyes fluttered closed, calmed. Even in the slightly pixellated image of him on your computer screen you could see how he ached for you, and how your voice helped to soothe that pain.

‘When my soul was in the lost-and-found, you came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me till your kiss helped me name it.

Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for,

’Cause if I make you happy I don't need to do more.’

It seemed the more Ben was dulcified, the more your own agony grew. The softness of him was intoxicating, and it exposed how much he needed you. Guilt flared in you at not being there to look after him, and your own selfish desire to be near him added a sharp longing to your cocktail of grief.

‘Oh, baby, what you've done to me,

You make me feel so good inside.

And I just want to be close to you,

You make me feel so alive.’

His head got heavy, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back on the sofa, and slowly you saw sleep settling weightily over his features. You indulged yourself by watching him for a few moments, chest rising and falling steadily as he began to snore, but soon the pang in your chest became too intense to bear. You whispered, “I love you,” into the boundless space between you before ending the call and quickly opening a new window on your laptop.

———

Ben had been feeling particularly sorry for himself. He never coped very well when he was ill (being a frequent sufferer of man flu), but this was worse than usual. For starters, he didn’t get sick very often anymore so when he did it felt all the worse, and he hadn’t been this unwell in a while, and to top it all off, Y/N wasn’t there to look after him. Every morning he’d wake up in an empty bed, hardly able to breathe and feeling like his whole face had been plugged up. He’d drag himself to the kitchen, cocooned in his duvet, get himself some hot water and a piece of toast because that was all he could bring himself to make, before collapsing on the sofa, drifting in and out of sleep, some crappy movie on in the background, and ordering food when he couldn’t be bothered to get it himself. He was pretty sure that you would have been horrified had you seen the state of him — he didn’t like to look in the mirror because it frightened him how much he looked like a ghost of himself — but really he just wanted you there to look after him. He kept finding himself daydreaming about you, whispering soothing words to him as he slept, holding him close against your body. Sometimes he got so lost in his imagination that he could almost feel the touch of you, and for a moment convinced himself that you were there, that you would sit down next to him any second with two cups of tea and some sassy remark. To be honest, he had been like that most of the time you’d been away; he had felt the void of you more acutely than he had anticipated. But this constant state of semi-waking delirium had amplified it. So when he heard a knock at the door, thinking that he must have ordered take-away and forgotten but opened it to find you there with an armful of groceries and a grin, he assumed he was dreaming.

He sighed melancholically, “Y/N.”

“Oh Benny, are you okay?”

Your tone didn’t seem right. You never sounded worried in his imagination, only gentle and calm. His heart started to beat faster.

In a voice that sounded far away, like he was underwater, he heard you say, “Darling, let’s get you into bed. You don’t look good.”

“Wait, you’re really here?”

“Of course I’m here,” you said, ushering yourself inside and laying your things down before placing your palm against his forehead. He closed his eyes, falling gratefully into your touch. Your hand felt cool against his burning skin, and he almost collapsed with relief to have you beside him again. He could see you were worried, your movements suddenly infected with a slightly frenetic urgency, but all he felt was elation. He let you shepherd him into bed without resistance, and drank eagerly from the glass of chilled water you placed in his hands.

You tucked him under the covers, and knelt beside the bed, stroking your fingers with the most delicate touch over his cheek. It made him shiver. His eyelids slipped closed and he felt the heaviness of the past few days evaporate into weightlessness. In those few hazy moments before sleep overtook him, still sceptical of the veracity of his own senses, he mumbled, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

You smiled tenderly, “Of course I will, love. I’m going to look after you,”

You knew Ben was pretty unwell but hadn’t anticipated quite the extent of it. He seemed to be delirious, and the glassy look in his eyes made you wonder if he ever knew you were there. He was burning up when you tested his temperature, so you got him some water and sent him to bed. It broke your heart a little to shut him off in the bedroom as soon as you had reunited with him after missing him so deeply, but it broke your heart more to see him so sick, reduced to a shadow of himself. You kept yourself busy while he slept, walking Frankie, cleaning the apartment which had unsurprisingly fallen into a state of neglect, and getting a stew on to be ready by the time he woke. Your mind wandered back to him often, the thought of him curled up under the covers like a child. It took all your strength not to climb in next to him and cuddle him until he felt better. But you knew that would do nothing for his fever.

He woke up a few hours later and trudged back into the kitchen where you were sat quietly entertaining yourself on your phone. He’d thrown a hoodie on, pulled up over his head with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi gorgeous,” you beamed, standing to meet him. He looked better already; his eyes were less puffy and some of the colour was returning to his face.

“Hey,” he said hoarsely, “I wasn’t sure you’d be here when I woke up. I thought I’d dreamt you.”

You opened your arms and he shuffled gratefully into them, letting his head fall against your shoulder. He exhaled, relaxed, while your fingertips trailed gently across the back of his neck.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere until you’re better.”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, searching them for the truth, “Really? Won’t you have to go back soon?”

“They’ll just have to cope without me, because clearly you can’t.”

He shook his head before burying it in your neck again.

“Come on, I’ve made dinner.”

Ben ate hungrily, glad of a proper, hearty meal. You sat at the table for hours, surreptitiously filling up Ben’s glass to make sure he was drinking plenty of water, revelling in being in each other’s company again. It was bittersweet. Despite your assurance that you’d stay as long as he needed, you both knew that come Monday — Tuesday at the latest — you’d have to head back to Scotland. But for the moment you talked and laughed, and nursed Ben back to health. You decided to go back to your own apartment overnight to make sure Ben got a good night’s rest, as well as reduce the risk of you getting his cold. He made you promise him that you’d come back first thing in the morning, which of course you readily did. And when you did return, already making breakfast by the time Ben surfaced, he was looking healthier still.

“‘Morning cherub,” you cooed. “How’re you feeling today?”

“All the better for seeing you,” he smiled and hugged you from behind. You kissed his cheek and he detached himself, allowing you to hand him a hot mug of honey and lemon.

By the end of the weekend Ben was almost completely better. He had even managed to go out for a walk with you and Frankie. He could speak properly again, without his ‘m’s turning into ‘b’s, and his spirits where infinitely raised — until he saw your packed bag, ready to go again, as you sat side-by-side on the sofa.

“When’s your flight?” he sighed, disconsolate.

“First thing in the morning, taxi’s picking me up at 6.”

His shoulders slumped. “You can’t go yet, I’m still sick,” and he coughed lamely, pouting like a toddler.

“Considering you’re a professional actor, that was thoroughly unconvincing,” you deadpanned and swiped your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll come visit again soon.”

“I don’t want you to come visit,” he lamented, leaning into your hand, “I want you to come home.”

“What do you mean, love?” you faltered, frowning.

He sidled closer to you, resting a hand on your knee. He was quiet, eyes fixed on your lap, but when he looked up he was absolutely focused, intent.

“Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question.

You were overwhelmed with green. All you could see was his eyes and the determination in them, their confidence in you. The love and the warmth and the longing made them sparkle.

Your voice was hushed but firm as you replied, “Okay.”

The next thing you knew he was kissing you and your world was revolving. Everything you felt and heard and tasted was him and that was all you wanted for the rest of your life.

taglist: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie @rogmeddows @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud @drowse13 @shhhs3cret @blind-melon-taylor @ohsososophisticatedd @malfoybaby @littlepanda-love @leezie @shesakillerquueennn @borhapgrande @stfxlou @vangogh-groupie @dep-thx @hardzzellos @imjustboredso (just ask if you want to be added to the tag list! sorry if tumblr won’t let me tag you)

#kind of magic series #ben hardy #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #bohemian rhapsody #6 underground #queen #benjamin jones

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heartjwi · 5 years ago

Text

black magic ☞ nct dream

GENRE | fluff ! nct dream x reader

THEME | witch!au

DISCLAIMER | insp. from black magic by little mix

SUMMARY | 6 boys happen to find a magical book in the middle of the library and promised each other they would only use their powers for the greater good.

A/N | first work here on my new blog heheheeheh also my entry for spooktober! + mentions of bullying!

once upon a time

soooo

theres this specific group of kids in high school right

they’re kinda known as the nobodies in general

literally because they don’t talk to anyone outside their friend group

which makes the popular kids pick on them since they’re easy targets n such

their names were: renjun, jeno, donghyuck, jaemin, chenle and jisung

the 4 of them consisted of seniors

and one of the two were either a sophomore and a junior

there have been multiple occasions during lunch where the bullies would purposely stick their feet out when they were walking in their direction

causing them to trip and drop their food trays :-(

if it wasn’t for donghyuck’s snarky attitude, they would’ve been the laughing stock of the school

despite that, the bullies made it their mission to give their life a living hell

the bullies would pull pranks on them

till their youngest had enough

jisung surprisingly towered majority of the bullies and confronted them

“h-hey!” jisung stutters

which made renjun, jeno, jaemin facepalmed

donghyuck was too busy distracting chenle who was sweating and shaking too much

“guys look pipsqueak is trying to say something!” one of the bullies announces to their group

renjun was getting angrier by the minute just watching the bullies poke fun on jisung

“stop making fun of us, it’s not funny anymore” jisung tells the group, his deep voice surprising everyone

“make us, pipsqueak” the group leader pokes a finger on jisung’s chest making him walk backwards

renjun got fed up watching everyone laugh at them and runs up to the leader

“dude what are you doing!” jeno panicks, pulling his sleeve a little bit too late

“hey” renjun grabs the leader’s shoulder

“wha-”

before the leader could finish his sentence, renjun punches him square at the jaw

sending the leader to fall down on the floor

“what the fuck”

and everyone swings

sending both groups to detention

“maybe if one of us just kept our hands to ourselves, this wouldn’t have happened” jaemin smiles sarcastically at his friends

renjun grumbles and turned his back on jaemin

“hyung, renjun hyung had to do something” chenle speaks up

“not gonna lie, that was pretty bad ass coming from him” donghyuck laughs, patting renjun at the back

it could be seen that renjun was trying to contain his smile

but he failed to do so

jeno then walks out of the principal’s office with 6 excuse passes on his hand

“the principal says we’re good kids but that doesn’t mean he’d let us off of the detention we’re serving” jeno starts

the 5 boys sigh in unison

“but he says unlike the other group, they would be cleaning under the tables in the cafeteria, we are on library duty” jeno finishes

“that’s so boring” donghyuck whines, leaning on chenle

“its better than cleaning dried gum” jaemin flicks his forhead

the boys finally arrive in the library when it was closing time

“i’ll leave the keys here and make sure you lock the doors once you finish okay? i’ll be going now” the librarian smiles and waves goodbye at them

“great now we’re spending our friday night in a damn library” hyuck yells out

“i thought we were having a sleepover today?” jeno asks hyuck who was grabbing the left over books on the tables

“we are. i’m just overreacting” he shrugs

a little after that, the boys start cleaning everything at once

chenle was dusting the books that hasn’t been touched in years

jisung was sweeping the floor

renjun was rearranging the books by order

jaemin was wiping the tables

jeno and donghyuck were on cart duty

suddenly, as chenle was sweeping the bookshelves

a book fell on his head

“ouch!” he yelps, catching the attention of everyone

“you good lele?” jeno comes to his aid

chenle rubs his head, “yeah.. that fell on me” he points at a glowing book just a few feet away from them

“what’s this?” jisung picks up the book

“careful there jisung” jaemin warns him

renjun pushes past everyone to see the book, scanning it back to back

“it’s in latin” he tells everyone

he grabs his phone and opens google translate

“it means magic” hyuck reads his phone out loud

“did we just find a magical book?!” chenle squeals

renjun shushes him and tells everyone to hurry up with their work so they could go home

“guys let’s finish everything now so we can play with this book later, okay? chop chop” renjun orders

fast forward now everything in that library was clean

the boys are now at hyuck’s place with the book they found in the middle of their circle

“are we gonna become witches?” hyuck giggles

“probably? i mean it does say magic on the front” jeno explains

“ok y’all i can’t wait much longer lets bippity boppity boo this shit! lets all hold hands around it” jaemin grabs jisung and jeno’s hands

and the rest do the same

now the book is glowing again, it was a mix of purple and blue sparkles

the 6 boys start levitating from the ground

hyuck’s things were flying all over the place

and the lights were flickering

the book opens itself and individually gave everyone in the circle their powers

which was telekinesis

and the power to do whatever they want

basically they can form or do anything their mind tells them to

pretty cool

“this shit is fucking amazing” chenle screams as he made the bed levitate

“holy fuck” jeno muses as he made a cat appear in the room

“guys i’m gonna set hyuck’s desk on fire!” jisung motions his hand at hyuck’s desk

and suddenly, it was on fire

“jesus christ dude!” hyuck puts the fire down with his hands

“holy shit.. we’re witches!” the group claps for themselves

after everyone calms down, renjun announces something

“we should make a pact that we will only use our powers for the greater good” renjun announces,

everyone was listening intently

“we should make sure that we must not let that ugly group make fun of other people anymore” renjun adds

the boys agreed and went to bed after that

time skip on monday

you were a new student in school

you just moved from a whole different country so you were struggling with korean

and needless to say, you first day was absolutely shit

you were the new laughing stock of the school

especially with your speaking skills

hardly anyone speaks english in your new school

they only know certain phrases and often used body language to tell you shit

which made you a bit sad cause that basically means you didn’t really have friends

it was your second day in and someone vandalised your locker

which made the nearby students stifle in their laughter

to your luck, donghyuck happened to be one of the students nearby

he felt pity towards you

knowing you were a new student

while everyone was busy amongst themselves,

he used a bit of magic to erase the writing on your locker

after you gathered your stuff, you noticed your locker door was good as new

you looked around if anyone wiped it off but nothing

except for a boy who winked at you and blue and purple sparkles were evident in their eyes

the bell rang and everyone rushed to their classrooms

it was history class and you had a pretest yesterday

and it was about the history of korea too

meaning you didn’t too well

you had a big, red F on the corner of your test paper

your classmates were again, laughing at you quietly

even hearing some of them muttering “stupid”

you hung your head low and sat down on your chair

next to renjun

renjun felt bad for you and made everyone who made a comment bang their head against the table

seeing what happened to the students, it made you giggle a bit

making renjun smile at you

finally it was lunch time

you were walking towards an empty lunch table in the middle of the cafeteria

carrying your lunch tray filled with food

suddenly one of the people who were bullying you made you trip

you spilled your food and caused a scene

everyone in the cafeteria watching everything

laughing and taking videos of you

you wanted to cry on the spot

but suddenly you hear spluttering and something smelly hit your nose

you see chenle and jisung helping you up

“sorry for your clothes, noona” jisung helps you up

“i can help!” chenle giggles and suddenly you were in new clothes

“woah how did you do that” you asked, covering your mouth in shock

“it’s a secret” jisung giggles

“ah shit, i have to clean up the mess” you cursed, kneeling down taking the plates you dropped

“no worries, we’ll do it for you” jaemin butts in and just like what chenle did, the mess on the floor disappeared

you stared at him in shock and he just winks at you making your cheeks flush

and just a few feet away from you four, donghyuck, jeno and renjun were almost punishing the bullies after what they did to you

“WHY DO WE KEEP SHITTING OUR PANTS” one of the bullies cried out, shit coming out of their pants

and there was donghyuck laughing uncontrollably in the background

the leader turned to him and stomped his way over to him despite him shitting his pants

“YOU!” he yelled but he slipped on his own shit

making donghyuck double over laughing

renjun rolls his eyes, “okay playtime’s over, to the closet you fuckers go” he snaps his fingers and in a flash, the bullies got pushed into their own gym lockers, locked inside while being knocked out cold.

the 3 boys run back to you and checks if you have any bruises or cuts on your arms and legs

“i’m alright guys, thank you for defending me” you nervously scratched the back of your neck

“no worries! if they bother you again just call us and we’ll be there to save the day” jeno gives you his infamous eye smile

which was prone to melting hearts heh

“or better yet, why won’t you join us?” renjun invites you to their friend group

“m-me?” you stuttered, pointing to yourself

everyone nods in unison

“i mean, you do know our little secret so” donghyuck fakes his voice in a serious tone making you scared a bit

“aish hyuck stop you’re scaring her” jaemin smacks his head

“i’ll beat your ass motherfucker-” he tried to scramble towards jaemin but jeno ended up pulling his ear

“ooOOWWW” he screeched holding his now red ear

“shit we forgot to ask her name.. what’s your name?” chenle asks, staring at you intently

“i’m y/n” you say shyly, avoiding eye contact from everyone

renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle & jisung look at each other and smiled

“welcome to our group, y/n” they all yell, engulfing you into a hug

the end!

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broken-clover · 5 years ago

Text

AU-gust Day 9- Royalty

This one kind of stumped me, so I tried to do something a little more out of the box. Obviously there’s already royalty in canon GG, so I tried to to with it as well as do some different worldbuilding.

First and foremost, this is for @samarline, since I know they like Leo/Izuna (dunno how that rarepair got any fans, but as long as someone is enjoying it)

Izuna was doomed. He was absolutely, positively doomed.

Durable as a yokai was, he wasn’t foolish enough to never consider the concept of his own death. Especially given his status. The head of the yokai prince would no doubt be a priceless treasure for the armies of humanity or Gearkind. If political strife truly was where he was to meet his end, then he would have fought tooth and claw to die with dignity, and to allow as many of his people to escape as possible.

There was no dignity in the death that he stared down now. A simple run around the woodlands in his full fox-skin had drawn the attention of a pair of equally-simple hunters. The head of the yokai prince was a grand treasure, but the pale, silken pelt of a fox was worth a pretty penny on its own. Shrapnel to the leg had crippled an otherwise-effortless escape attempt, and the blood he had lost trying to outrun them sapped away his ability to perform spells, or to shed his skin back into a humanoid form.

Izuna had skittered into some nearby underbrush, leaving flecks of his own blood on the leaves as he did his best to huddle under it. Dying as a fox meant his people would never know what became of him, and they would be left without their leader, or any sort of direction. He was going to be slaughtered like common game. He could only hope that his meat would drive his murderers ill as a final act of spite from beyond the grave.

The trees shook. Izuna cowered in fear.

But instead of the hunters, he was surprised by the sight of a large man in a fancy orange coat pushing aside the leaves.

“Is someone there?” He asked, voice low and booming, but undeniably kindly. “I heard shouting, is someone hurt?”

++++++

The book of history was deeply stained in blood. No living person, except perhaps the eldest and most ancient of the yokai, could remember the times when the three races were in conflict with each other. Nor was anyone truly sure of what the conflict was for anymore, but all they knew was that it needed to be done in order to protect their people. At least, that was what they said.

In the beginning, man, gear, and yokai lived in quiet harmony, building their kingdoms and sharing what they had that the others lacked. Each race only cared for their own kind now, and interspecies trade was banned even if it were possible in the first place.

That’s how the world seemed to be for eons, but time was never static, and things always shifted. The human nation’s First King, Ky, had accidentally but fortuitously created a peace between humanity and Gears after falling in love with and wedding the daughter of Queen Justice, Princess Dizzy. Their alliance was tenuous, but the constant back-and-forth attacks had begun to quell, and the people began to have hope. Hope for peace, for calm, for kinship to replace the violence that had been constantly shaping their lives.

Ky and Dizzy seemed happy enough together, at least. Leo hadn’t much entertained the thought of marriage. His work as the human nation’s Second King kept him busy enough. He hadn’t even thought to pick up a hobby until it had been more-or-less foisted on him.

He looked down from his paperwork to watch the creature snoozing away in his lap, motionless aside from the rise and fall of its chest and the occasional twitches of its tail.

He’d named the creature ‘Rubinrot,’ for its beautiful, piercing red eyes. Leo had never met such a peculiar animal in his life. He knew what a fox looked like, obviously, but he’d never seen one with a perfectly white coat. That strange color was paired with a bizarre brilliance that he swore was too advanced for an animal, but it was endearing. He’d only taken the creature in in the first place because of its crippled leg, but he found Rubinrot’s presence relaxing.

As soon as he tried to move the animal so he could stand up, he roused, and was clearly displeased with the concept of being abandoned. Leo stepped away from his desk, only to be interrupted by a displeased bark as Rubinrot limped after him.

“I’m only going to get food. I’ll bring some back for you, too.” He tried to assure him, but it didn’t work. When barking didn’t work, the fox began snapping at his trailing coat and tugging on it.

“Rubinrot! Nein!” Leo attempted to pull the material free without crippling him further. “I’ll only be gone for a minute! What do you want from me?”

His answer came in the form of him swatting at his legs until Leo reluctantly picked him up. “Really? I could have sworn you were a fox, not a cat.” Maybe he had been wrong. Rubinrot was remarkably tranquil and easygoing for a fox, anyway.

Still, he didn’t feel like arguing with an animal. Rubinrot seemed perfectly happy with his new position cradled in Leo’s arms, even if it left the man with only one arm as he dug through the kitchen for food. He could see the way the staff looked at him. It was odd enough that a king would be searching for his own food, but carrying a fox around like a pampered puppy was a whole new level of strange.

Though he didn’t admit it, Leo was a little relieved at the concept of Rubinrot being healed and released soon. He could only imagine the image he gave off, distracted from his important political duties by a single animal. He still deeply cared for his fox and his people, and wanted to do his best to serve both.

“What should we make today?” Leo asked aloud. “Leftover meat, fruit…” He pushed something aside. “I’m not sure how the fried tofu got in here-”

The fox immediately perked up, barking in what he could only assume was excitement. “Tofu? Really? Is that healthy for foxes?” Still, he obliged, pulling the container down, opening it, and letting his companion get to work demolishing it.

“I guess you have a craving for beans.” Leo stroked the animal’s back as he ate.

“Erm, Leo?”

He jerked to attention, mentally groaning as he recognized the voice of the only man that could always make him feel uneasy. “Hello, Ky.”

The First King wore his usual pleasant smile, just real enough to be convincing. But Leo could see the way his eyes darted towards the fox on the counter, messily eating their leftovers.

“It seems you’re...having a lunch break, yes?” Ky asked.

Leo skipped straight to the point. “I’ll only be a few more minutes, then I’ll get back to work. I just wanted to make sure he was fed.”

“Of course, Leo. Of course.” Ky’s smile was forced, almost uncomfortable. “I just can’t help but worry a little bit about your new...preoccupation? Nothing wrong with a hobby, of course-”

“I don’t know why you’re making this your business, Ky.” Leo grumbled. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your wife instead of what I’m up to?”

Ky flinched. As much as Leo wanted to be proud of that, he also knew Ky didn’t like having his weak points hit. “Dizzy is not plotting anything behind my back.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“With all due respect, Leo,” He rubbed at his temples, still doing his best to be cordial. “I don’t want to be cross with you. I really don’t. But we are still in a tenuous political situation, and everyone needs to stay on top of their work. If you don’t start spending less time with that fox, I am going to have to ask you to release it. We can’t afford any distractions. I hope you understand.

Without another word, Ky turned and left.

++++++

With all the work he had during the day, lying in bed was one of the few times Leo was able to have a moment to sit and think. He would have rather spent it fantasizing about something nice, but his thoughts always came back to work, and to Ky.

Leo knew of the weight that rested on him. He wouldn’t have taken such a lofty position if he hadn’t understood how serious it was. But he didn’t understand why one simple distraction was causing so much fuss. His Rubinrot had only ruined a few documents, but wasn’t a problem when it came to anything else, not really. Actually, Leo liked to think he was working harder than ever when he had something less serious to help him relax.

Rubinrot was curled up beside him in bed. It seemed to be his favorite place to sleep, and Leo refused to shoo him away. He could only imagine how swiftly the fox would be torn apart as an easy meal by wild animals with his leg still injured. Would Ky push him into it anyway?

He knew there was a war going on. It was impossible to ignore it. The yokai forces in particular had grown restless recently, but the Gear Alliance was being redrafted, and prospects were high. There may have been peace between two nations for the first time in people’s lives. Yet Ky seemed more on edge than ever.

“Hmmph. Maybe that’s just what marriage does to people…” He mused, petting the fox’s back. “I don’t suppose you would know anything about that?”

The animal huffed. Leo knew he couldn’t talk back, but he still did it.

“You respect me, don’t you?” The fox butted against his hand. “I know I’m not as brilliant as Ky, but I’m still good for something, aren’t I?” It was difficult being Second King and second banana to a tactical genius that everyone seemed to adore. His marriage had done well for his public image as well, despite fears of how the people would respond to their beloved king marrying a gear, especially the daughter of a rival kingdom.

“Pfft. Maybe I just need to get married, then?” He smirked at Rubinrot. “Yeah, right.”

Leo rolled over to switch off the bedside lamp and curl up in bed. “Gute nacht, Rubinrot.”

+++++++

Izuna’s tail frisked back and forth across the silky sheets. He would need to find some when he went back home.

Ah, yes, home. He could only imagine how his people were managing without him for the past few weeks. He had gotten some information from the humans, but yokai were always the most skilled at subterfuge and trickery, so whatever the humans knew, so much more was going on under their noses. That was how the war had been. Gears and humans could throw mortar at each other’s walls all day long, but neither of them even knew where the yokai kingdom was, and were left to chase after whatever forces they could find.

Of course, that was also the reason for the state they were in. Yokai could never ‘win’ a war. They could run armies to exhaustion and strike them as easy, weakened targets of smaller groups, but in the sorts of battles that humans and gears fought, their forces would have been mowed to nothing in weeks. The yokai had only survived by being secretive. They never lost any land, but never gained any, either.

But they scraped by through ingenuity, and right now, Izuna was being an ingenious little fox.

Well, maybe that was only half-true. For all his distrust towards humankind, he had somehow managed to spend the last few weeks utterly spoiled by one. He was pretty sure his rescuer didn’t know what he truly was, but either way, it hadn’t stopped him from showering Izuna in pats, food, and cuddles while his injuries healed. It was hard not to find merit in that. Though he wondered if those loving arms would turn hostile as soon as he changed forms.

But...that was where the ingenuity lay. He had known of the union between the human king and the gear princess, and how the political climate had slowly-but-surely begun to shift. Izuna knew that if humans and gears began working together and combined their powers, then it was far more likely they would be able to pull the yokai out of their well-hidden foxholes and gradually massacre them. Peace for them meant disaster for him and his people, but what were they fighting for in the first place? And what if there was another option available?

If the gear and human kingdoms merged into one, and they became at peace, what would happen if all three nations fused?

Some part of Izuna knew the concept was almost selfish. Because he wasn’t doing this just for the politics. He had spent so much time with this fascinating human, this ‘Leo,’ how could he not form some kind of bond with him? He had learned so much about the man through their one-sided conversations, he could hardly understand why the two of them were at war with each other. The human king was a lonely man, always pushed aside as the runner-up, feeling as though he could never measure up to his fellow royals and heads of state. But he had taken his time to meticulously care for an injured animal, that for all he knew, would simply run away and never feel an iota of thanks for his kindness. Yokai and humans may have been different, but they knew how to repay debts of kindness. And nursing the yokai prince back from the brink of death was a deep, deep debt.

Izuna wasn’t sure if he had enough stored magic to turn all the way back into a human form, but he prayed that it would be good enough.

++++++

Leo had been awoken by a peculiar noise in the middle of the night. He tiredly fumbled to attempt to find a way to lie back down and nod off again, but as he tried to roll over, he noticed an ominous glow.

“What the…?” He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Had he left a lamp on? The color seemed too harsh to be a lamp, though...

“Leooooooooo… An unfamiliar voice whispered.

He snapped to attention. “H-hello?” He stammered. “Who said that!? Show yourself!”

“As you wish, your majesty…”

Izuna let a stream of fox-fire illuminate him in the darkness. He had only been able to manage a partial transformation, but it looked real enough for what he needed it for.

“What on earth?” The king’s eyes widened. “Those ears, you’re a- !”

Izuna fanned out a half dozen tails from his back, each tipped with a will-o-wisp. “I’m a man who’s come to offer you a deal, Leo Whitefang.”

“H-how do you know my name?!” He demanded, shuffling towards the side of the bed. “And why would I make a deal with a yokai!?”

“I hope I’ll be able to answer both of those to your liking.” The yokai slowly smiled. “Tell me, do you like my eyes? Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Eyes? What kind of trickery…” Leo trailed off, his own eyes slowly widening as he realized. He turned to his other side, and realized his bed was empty.

“This world is full of actions and consequences.” Izuna continued, internally wincing at how ridiculous he sounded. Jeez, maybe he should have prepared a script. “You took in a yokai in his hour of need. Now, our kind owes reparations to you.”

“Reparations…?” The man still seemed awestruck enough that what he’d thought was his pet was now standing over him and covered in arcane flames.

“Yes. You have shown your human kindness to our people. So we are willing to pay it back in turn."

“S-so what are these…” Leo took a nervous swallow, “Reparations?”

He placed a hand on his chest. “I am Izuna, reigning prince of the yokai kingdom. You have cared for me in my darkest days. You have saved my life. Your hands have tended to me with the care and compassion of a lover.”

Leo’s confused fright slowly gave way to a bright red blush. “Erm, lover?”

“So I wish to pay it back to you.” Izuna knelt down, taking the man’s hand. “If you would have me, may the gods smile down on our union, and bless our people with peace and harmony for a thousand years.”

“I...I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

The kitsune looked him right in the eyes. “I want you to marry me.”

++++++

To many, the concept of a ceasefire was wishful thinking, idealism that clashed heavily with how the world truly was. Nobody seemed to have ever expected it would actually happen.

Following the merging of the human and gear kingdoms, for the first time in recorded history, the location of the yokai kingdom was revealed to the world. Its sudden openness was not a coincidence or stroke of luck. Instead, it intended to follow the path its former enemies had taken, and merge together into one nation.

Tales were spun on how the human’s Second King had selflessly rescued the yokai prince, and how they had fallen in love during his recovery. Nobody was entirely sure what details were true and what weren’t, but the important thing was that the war had been called into a ceasefire, and that the two men were to be married under the elaborate roofs of the yokai palace.

It was a momentous occasion, of course, it only seemed natural. Humans and gears entered the kingdom for the first time to witness their union, to offer well-wishes or simply to just admire the sights. The more cynical would remark that the merge of kingdoms was most likely a mere tactical motion, but the expressions shared between the two monarchs held a genuine, sincere love.

“Ah, the people love us, don’t they?”

“It’s nice to see them so happy.” Leo reclined in their wedding carriage, watching the crowds vanish behind them. “I never thought I would live to see the yokai kingdom, let alone be wed in it.”

“It’s your kingdom now, too.” Izuna was sprawled across the other seat, shedding his sandals and rolling down the top of his wedding kimono. Leo found it unbelievably amusing. Underneath the stoic front he put on in public, Izuna was...well, remarkably easygoing, comedic, and cuddly. So very, very cuddly.

“So they’re taking us back to your place?” The kitsune wiggled across to lie in his lap, humming with glee as Leo began scratching him behind the ears.

“Sort of. There’s a hotel we’re going to stay in for a few days until the press dies down. I’d say we could both use a bit of rest after all this.”

“Of course, love, of course.” Izuna rolled over to wink at his new husband. “And hopefully we can consummate our new union a few times, in the process.”

"Izuna!!"

#AU-gust #writing #guilty gear #leo whitefang #Izuna #I really need to come up with a ship name for this...

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gweniala · 5 years ago

Photo

Ertanians

Finally, behold! The product of this year’s winter school: a fanfiction introducing four new characters to my already bursting cast, coming as a direct sequel to The Dam. It comes complete with character designs because I came up with the fanfic as I was designing the characters.

Disclaimer: This fic is dark. As in, grim dark. A lot of babies die in great pains, there’s mutilation, character death and angst all around.

------

Nike spends a good while puzzling over where he has seen Svea before he realises it’s not the woman he finds familiar; it’s her sword.

It’s a day like any other on the road: the sun is hot, the beer is watered, the innkeeper is greedy and the lunch guests are yelling and pawing at the poor waitress like all of the above was her fault. Some three hundred years ago, Nike would have told them to stop and happily got in a fist fight over it. But those days are gone. Now that he travels alone, he has to watch his back and pick his battles. A knife in the gut could actually be a problem for him nowadays, not to mention losing a limb. Oh how the mighty have fallen…

Nike’s musings are interrupted when, much to Nike’s surprise, someone else stands up to the common injustice. From the corner of the room a hooded woman grows: “Leave the girl alone.”

The rest of the guests look over but that’s about it. The waitress retreats to the kitchen, but soon enough she’s bringing another round of watered beer. When she bends over to collect the empty glasses, one of the guests grabs her ass and squeezes as if to prove a point. At that, the woman stands up and walks over to him. She leans down and tells him something in a quiet voice. The guest, a burly blue Ynt who barely fits onto his chair, sneers at her in response.

“Piss off,” he says. “I’m not gonna hit a girl.”

“Oh, it’s that old song again…” the woman says. “What, you’re afraid the girl might hit back?” When this doesn’t earn her response, she straightens and says: “Sure, have it your way. Let today be the day you ran from being challenged by a girl. I guess it can’t be helped. You do look like you can barely hold the spoon. Don’t let your mother see you this way, it would break her heart.” She laughs at him from beneath the hood.

The Ynt strikes the table. “Very well, outside it is!” he barks and gets up.

The woman chuckles and exits the inn first. As she’s walking past Nike, she lifts her cape to check on a sword strapped to her side. Nike can’t see under her hood, but he gets the feeling that he knows her from somewhere.

Outside the Ynt tries to talk the woman out of fighting him. When she doesn’t budge, he says that a true Ynt always fights with a spear and to the death. She says that’s alright with her; she’s armed, too. It’s plain as day that the Ynt just wants to go back inside and finish his lunch. Groping a waitress is a terribly trivial matter to die over. But this woman keeps goading him as if she had a death wish and he can’t let her trample all over his pride. So, after considerable stalling, he finally brandishes his spear and tells her to defend herself.

The moment she draws her sword, Nike recognises the flame-shaped guard and it dawns on him why he finds her so familiar. With a dramatic flare she tears her cape off, and he already knows that he’ll see black goggles and a red-eyed snake underneath. And his anticipation is proven right for the third time when her sword bursts into flame.

“En garde, little bug!” the woman shouts. “I am Svea, daughter of Stein and Kafendre, the Guardian of Fire, and you really should have left that girl alone!”

The Ynt screeches with terror. Dropping his spear, he opens his wing-case and he’s in the air before you can say “cinder”. Svea bursts out laughing. She jabs her burning sword into the ground and leans against it, cackling merrily.

“Gets them every time!” she says. “Hey, little bug! Come back! I know your folk is afraid of fire. I wasn’t going to hurt you. You still have a soup to finish.”

When the blue Ynt isn’t coming back, she sighs and flicks the flames off her sword. “Move along now,” she tells the spectators and she goes to pick her cape up from the dusty ground.

It takes Svea a while to come back inside the inn. Nike is wondering if she has gone after the Ynt when she enters, cape bundled under her arm, frowning like a storm. She plops down on her seat and glares at her beer. The waitress scurries to her side; the two whisper until Svea’s frown eases and she passes the bundled cape to the waitress.

Nike smiles to himself, picks his glass up and walks over to Svea’s table.

“You tore the buckle off, didn’t you?” he says. “I’m Nike, son of free will. Mind if I sit here?”

Svea grunts. She doesn’t offer him a chair but she doesn’t tell him to beat it either, so Nike takes his chances and sits. “Was it that obvious?” Svea asks begrudgingly.

“Not really. I just used to be big on capes myself,” Nike says. “I know what happens when you rip it off like that.”

“Hm,” Svea says. She shifts uncomfortably. “Do you want something?”

“I just wanted to ask how Razi’s doing.”

Svea’s entire demeanour changes. She perks up. Her snake – her familiar – fixates its gaze firmly on Nike. “You’ve met Razi?” she says. “Where? And when?”

“Uh, about two years ago. Far away from here, I don’t remember what the world was called.”

A relieved smile spreads across Svea’s face. “She’s okay… that’s good to hear. How did she look? Does she still carry that menhir around?”

“She looked fine, and yes, she does,” Nike says, somewhat taken aback. “You’re her sister, right? Just how long haven’t you seen her?”

“For nine years!” Svea says. “It’s been such a long time. I expected we would cross roads more often, you know? But either the universe is really big, or…” She breaks off, then continues. “The five of us were supposed to meet up five years ago. But when I got there, the place literally didn’t exist anymore and I couldn’t find anyone… Luckily, Aini planned for two meetings! So I’m heading there right now and I really hope they’re gonna be there.”

“Can I come along with you?”

Svea gives him a surprised look. She coughs, sits back and the friendly spell fades. “Why?” she asks cautiously.

Nike shrugs. “I’d just like to see Razi again.”

Svea looks him up and down a few times. Finally she asks: “How did you meet her?”

“On the road,” Nike says. “She saved a village from being flooded.”

Svea appears thoughtful, then she shrugs her shoulders and says: “Do you have a horse?”

“No, but I can run like one.”

She smiles. “We’ll see about that.”

Svea’s horse is a chestnut morgan and, naturally, it leaves Nike in the dust. The hoophead is afraid the Fire Guardian might leave him behind, but he finds her waiting at the first crossroad not twenty kilometres from the inn.

“I thought you’d give up,” she says simply and hops up into the saddle. “Try to keep up. We’ve got a long way ahead of us.”

It takes them over three weeks to reach the designated meeting spot. During that time, Nike learns almost nothing about Svea. The woman isn’t a talker; she rides and eats in silence, sleeps alone and never parts with her sword. He can tell, however, that she’s very excited to reunite with her family. So he puts in that little extra effort and runs faster than he usually would. Slowly it wears on him. But he can still match the morgan’s speed, granted that Svea doesn’t drive it like crazy.

They’re travelling across a wide grassy plane when Svea stops and points toward the horizon.

“See that tree? That’s where we’re meeting!” she says. “I’ll race you there!”

She pays no heed to Nike’s protests; she spurs her morgan and leaves the hoophead in the dust again. Nike sighs and continues running at his somewhat-higher-than-usual speed. He isn’t going to bust a nut over being impatient.

Svea doesn’t reach the tree before him anyway. He meets her about two thirds of the way as she’s leading her morgan by the bridle. The horse is soaked with sweat, its legs shaking and mouth frothing. Nike falls into step beside them and he can’t deny himself the pleasure of saying: “And that’s why you don’t sprint unless you have to.”

The tree is taller than Nike expected. Huge and ancient, it towers over a small inn. Svea barely wastes time tying her exhausted morgan to a pole before she barges inside. Nike ties the horse properly, though he expects that it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and follows Svea inside.

Immediately he spots a bundle of people with snakes and goggles who are hugging each other and laughing happily. Razi’s there, with her menhir leaning against the wall. Nike counts five goggled people in total and concludes that Svea was the last to arrive.

“You’re late!” Razi says as if on cue. “I’ve already been here for two weeks. Where have you been?”

“It’s not my fault,” Svea says and points at Nike. “He slowed me down.”

Razi glances at him and she smiles widely. “Nike! It’s good to see you.” She makes her way toward him, extending her hand.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Nike says, shaking her hand. To his surprise, Razi clasps the back of his neck and pulls him down toward her. By all means it looks like she’s going to kiss him, but she just bumps her goggles against his eyes. When she pulls away and sees his expression, she starts and chuckles in embarrassment.

“Oh! Sorry, force of habit,” she says, stepping back.

“Hold on,” Svea calls from the huddle and her tone is nothing but jealous. “I was told you’ve met. How close are the two of you exactly?”

“None of your business, sister,” Razi says. “Come here guys, I’ll introduce you.”

Razi’s remaining siblings are a young woman who’s missing half of her limbs, an energetic man who carries her on his hip and a serious man with a sweet smile. Nike forgets immediately who is who, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s offered a spot crammed between Razi and one of her brothers, which suits him just fine. The five Guardians chat as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The taciturn Svea suddenly spins tales like a master storyteller, Razi and her crippled sister banter good-naturedly, and Nike is pretty sure both of the brothers are flirting with him. At some point there’s a hand on his thigh; it’s gone before he can take a look who it belongs to.

As alcohol levels rise, the conversation turns from hard-to-follow to downright confusing. Not only doesn’t Nike know half the terms (why do they keep calling Razi a tyrant?), he also has serious trouble reading the mood. He knows that the eyes in their heads are blind and he should make eye contact with the serpentine familiars instead. But the snake faces seem stony to him. If they emote, he can’t read them. Plus it’s so strange to have the voice coming from another place than below the eyes…

When the five Guardians decide to go outside and have a free-for-all, it comes as a relief more than anything. One of the two brothers lingers behind, fishing for something in his bag.

“Ah, there we go,” he says and pulls out a small book bound between two slates of stone. He offers it to Nike. “If you get bored of watching us goof off, read this.”

“What is it?”

“The history of our world. I copied it from our Wall of Records. Have you read the Wall lately?”

Nike shakes his head.

The man clicks his tongue. “You need to know your history if you want to navigate the future,” he says. “Especially if you’re after Razi.” And he gives him a searching look.

Nike shrugs. “I’ll read it.”

“Do that.”

Nike settles on a bench outside the inn, overlooking the sea of grass which is tinted golden by the drooping sun. In the distance, the five Guardians are preparing for their free-for-all. Nike can see Svea’s burning sword on the ground level and two figures darting about up in the air. He opens the stone-bound book and begins reading.

The history of Ertan (excerpt from the Wall of Records)

The first generation of fifth-age Guardians was born on the planet Ertan.

Ertan was one of the thousands of worlds created by Arven, and perhaps it was because of the creator’s renowned rush that its inhabitants suffered from an inborn, incurable disease. As soon as the eyes of their newborns were exposed to the planet’s atmosphere, they became inflamed and they would fester painfully until the baby went completely blind. The first Ertanians fervently searched for a way to reverse or prevent the process, but it was an impossible task. Some parents fell into despair. They smothered their wailing babies, saying that swift death was a fate better than a lifetime of agony.

But two doctors rose against this dreadful practice. They were a husband and wife, a surgeon called Briar and a physiotherapist called Tyra. They advocated that parents shouldn’t smother their children, but rather provide them as test subject to their experimental research. In response Briar and Tyra were called monsters and their house was tagged with paint and rotten eggs. But in the end, most parents found it easier to entrust their doomed offsprings to the two doctors than to commit an unforgivable sin. And so the Haven, the ghastly research facility, was created.

Few knew what kind of research was conducted in the Haven. Few wanted to know. Over the next three years, sixty-eight babies were taken inside its walls never to be seen again. Briar and Tyra assured everybody that they were working on a cure for the disease, but when a mass grave was found in their backyard, they were nearly lynched by a terrified crowd. Briar, who protected his wife, almost succumbed to his wounds after he got her to safety. Only Tyra’s warm, soft hands saved his life. The two doctors never left the Haven afterward. Ertanians hoped that they would starve to death, but those hopes fell flat. Lights came alive in the Haven’s windows year after year, and the wind carried ungodly screams which made one’s blood freeze.

But, truthfully, the households which had children were no better off. No one could ease the intolerable suffering which the disease brought to infants. Few parents had the strength to go on day after day, swamped with the smell, gore and perpetual screaming. If a woman became pregnant, she would be berated: why did she bring children into this world? It was her fault for not staying clean! It was a better fate for the people of Ertan to disappear from the face of their planet quietly and peacefully.

The public opinion was as split as ever as the people of Ertan argued endlessly. They had been given life by Arven; they shouldn’t waste it simply because it was hard and painful! But in spite of that reassurance, hundreds of pregnant women were abandoned when their time of strife drew near. Such poor lasses couldn’t bear the thought of facing their future alone. They would go into the woods and return some time later, childless. There were no questions asked, but many suspected the truth. The lonely mothers-to-be sought the Haven and gave birth there, leaving the newborn child in the care of Briar and Tyra. Out of all the grim options they had, it seemed like the best. At the very least it gave them hope that their sacrifice contributed to something larger than themselves. In a world which was dying, hope for a better future was their only comfort.

Eventually the lands surrounding the Haven were abandoned and nothing was heard from Briar and Tyra for forty years. The Haven was forgotten while a new, decimated generation of Ertanians grew to adulthood. They were used to living in darkness and constant, head-splitting pain. Those who couldn’t shoulder it went mad or killed themselves. The original generation of Ertanians watched them struggle and they knew it was only a matter of time before death claimed the people of Ertan.

That was when the lost children returned.

There were about a hundred of them, people of all ages between five and forty. They were a strange-looking group. All of them had linen bandages wrapped around their heads, impregnated with something oily which smelled of fish. What was even stranger, each carried an erdack viper curled atop their shoulders.

When they reached the first settlement, its few inhabitants hid in their houses and watched them suspiciously. Eventually an old man, once created by Arven to be a soldier, stepped forward to speak:

“Who are you, viper-bearers?”

A woman, the oldest among the bunch, answered him:

“We are the children of Briar and Tyra. Our honoured parents have died and we have decided to leave our home. Don’t be scared! We bring joyful news. Mother and father have found a way to fight back pain and turn destiny. They have returned our sight.”

The old soldier sneered at her. “Well then, tell me, viper-bearer. How many fingers am I holding up?”

The viper resting on the woman’s shoulder raised its head and looked straight at the old man. After a tense moment, the woman said: “You do not have any fingers left to hold up.”

“She can see!” the old man cried out. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled and said: “We are the children you have once lost. Will you give us food and shelter?”

The lost children were immediately taken in. To the raring Ertanians they spoke of the wondrous result of their parents’ research. Through heart-wrenching trial and error Briar and Tyra had learned to implant a young erdack viper into a newborn child’s body so that it became an additional limb. The viper’s spinal cord was connected to the child’s at the back of the child’s neck, so the child could see everything the viper saw, smell everything the viper smelled and feel everything the viper felt. They called their fifth limb a familiar, and through its clear red eyes they had regained sight. They held they key to Ertan’s future, for Briar and Tyra had taught them everything they knew. The two cursed doctors had made sure to pass their blood-stained redemption on.

The lost children immediately set to work. They found all women in the neighbourhood who were delivering soon and split up into groups of two which attended each of them. The lost children who had learned from Briar had nimble, strong hands that never shook. The ones who had learned from Tyra had warm, soft hands that took pain away. When a woman’s time was nearing, the two children would find an erdack viper’s nest and collect its eggs. As soon as the woman went into labour, the eggs were placed under a hot lamp. The one that hatched just before the baby was born was selected to become the familiar.

As soon as the baby slid out of the womb, his or her bright blue eyes dimmed and the baby began crying with pain which would eventually turn into burning agony. But before that could come to pass, a child of Tyra wrapped clean linen cloth soaked with painkilling oil around the child’s head. This eased the pain and lulled the newborn to fall asleep on the mother’s belly. Then the child of Briar cut the newborn’s back open and connected its spinal chord to the viper’s. After the wounds were sewn shut, the child of Tyra taught the parents how to exercise with their child so that the familiar’s attachment succeeded. Six weeks later, it was decided whether the child would live or die. Half of the operations failed; the children first became paralysed from the neck down and then their hearts stopped beating. The infants who survived were blessed by the following words before the lost children moved on to another expecting mother:

“In the name of Patrick, Gloria, Neve, Maki, Callum, Undi, Chelsea, Rowan, Lawrence, Zakariya, Jerry, Maddie, Robbie, Carlan, Marshall, April, Sharon, Josh, Caleb, Farmer, Abby, Tabitha, Katherine, Keller, Kian, Aliyah, Harta, Herbert, Jose, Fiona, Hason, Dewey, Tommy, Felix, Carolie, Willard, Marie, Connor, Megan, Saman, Hanson, Frost, Isabelle, Iqra, Arjun, Isaiah, Fella, Yusuf, Ronan, Anna, Olive, Ruby, Kieron, House, Renee, Melody, Kyle, Weeks, Andrew, Dominica, Lorenzo, Polly, Connie, Rich, Jac, Kaitlyn, Hassan, Rachael, Edgar, Lachlan, Bella, Eve, Helena, Amaan, Stephen, Hanna, Sam, Diana, Hano, Sana, Scarlett, Austin, Jenna, Omar, Ibrahim, Vanessa, Eden, Maximilian, Sloan, Claoud, Hafsa, Khadija, Jane, Curtis, Dein, Louise, Edrei, Tristan, Amy, Ashley, Craig, Ismail, Kye, Hampton, Aiden, Theresa, Rebekah, Gray, Ellie-May, Alpha, Mathew, Edda, Lois, Owain, Yasin, Annath, Sara, Seth, Hannah, Heather, Bettar, Jack, Ray, Ted, Homer, Jimmy, Otto, Clara, Ellis, Will, Andre, Luke, Kane, Harmony, Tanisha, Frazer, Jay, Alannah, Martin, Courtney, Geron, Annie, Daniel, Aadam, Adil, Louisa, Reynolds, Rhonda, Reuben, Autumn, Carl, Sophia, Zara, Orla, Louis, Ricky, Jonathan, Carrie, Angus, Darcie, Euan, Elohi, Mohamed, Muhammad, Julian, Adam, Tilly, Walters, Dean, Robert, Droa, Jodie, Maryam, Donald, Sabrina, Olivia, Veronica, Allen, Natalia, Calvin, Troy, Charles, Mooney, Elizabeth, Chris, Harrell, Lily, Phoebe, Aron, Freya, Katie, Sienna, May, David, Jesse, Rowe, Summer, Montgomery, Tallulah, Hermione, Amira, Josie, Meghan, Kaitlin, Ebony, Kira, Joel, Kirby, Alfie, Lacey, Herman, Simpson, Betty, Dale, Zach, Christine, Phillip, Daniella, Matteo, Warren, Umar, Max, Kitty, Gethin, Shawn, Georgie, Bonnie, Jasper, Harold, Ash, Kathleen, Rita, Morgan, Abida, Benjamin, Zack, Sadie, Jean, Byron, Savannah, Joshua, Carver, Frankie, Catherine, Erica, Mccarty, Roman, Cerys, Paula, Alexander, Gary, Solomon, Haleema, Joe, Elve, Maxwell, Myers, Steven, Carmen, Morse, Chavez, Neal, Robin, Harriet, Lee, Evangeline, Elsa, Nadia, Jake, Lena, Rhea, Fleur, Anastasia, Lucia, Lucas, Marvin, Porter, Alvarado, Nina, Mark, Harriy, Sana, Clay, Rafael, Owen, Leonie, Patricia, Lauren, Scott, Harris, Estrada, Jessie, Keith, Chloe, Henry, Hellon, Alicia, Linda, Vincent, Aaliyah, Sarah, Evan, Jeremy, Mitchell, Russell, Baldwin, Tianna, Willie, Jeffrey, Mariam, Kenneth, Leonard, Fred, Eva, Nora, Kyran, Keira, Alice, Holly, Musa, Naomi, Zoe, Everett, Feli, Tanya, David, Roy, Francis, Lindsey, Moha, Alyssa, Ronald, Beleth, Frederick, Dennis, Boyer, Tia, Stella, Natasha, Vaughn, Rangel, Ernest, Alec, Adrian, Carlos, Ciara, Dominic, Zak, William, Libby, Freddy, Claudia, Jenson, Molly, Christina, Farhan, Jack, Leroy, George, Vincent, Margie, Ellie, Oliver, Hussain, Conner, Dalton, Terry, Hasan, Edoni, Nannie, Jacob, Rhys, Aisha, Susan, Yahya, Hashim, Charlotte, Tyler, Potts, Ebomui, Cooper, Iona, Cox, Cara, Noah, Bethany, Rosa, Faye, Eleanor, Monica, Irene, Theo, Aoife, Stefan, Maxim, Vang, Hatfield, Jim, Kayleigh, Jason, Elias, Malaki, Trasta, Nicolas, Ciaran, Hartfa, Aaron, Ralph, Haroon, Abellia, Velaz, Eddie, Poppy, Penelope, Gerald, Erika, Peari, Connolly, Abdul, Calum, Stanley, Aliya, Higgi, Hamma, Ibra, Grover, Tony, Samuel, Lloyd, Aysha, Zachary, Bernard and Gemma, blessed be thy eyes. May you live happily.”

The lost children spread their craft and hope among the people of Ertan like wildfire. A decade later, there wasn’t a child who didn’t receive a familiar at birth. It was unfortunate that adults and older children couldn’t undergo the operation. Their nervous systems were already set in stone so they would never learn how to use the familiar. But even they benefited from the painkilling oil Tyra had invented, which was now brewed by the gallons. As new generations of surgeons and physiotherapists were trained, the death toll of the familiar implantation decreased until, two hundred years later, it was nearly zero. Briar and Tyra’s blood-curdling research had saved the people of Ertan from extinction.

The Haven stands to this day, as if the ground refused to take it. It is haunted by the endless suffering and deepest pains of the 433 children who died at the hands of Briar and Tyra before their research was complete. Their names are still recited six weeks after every familiar implantation. It’s a chore more than anything, but Briar’s and Tyra’s followers (now called simply briars and tyras) insist on it. During their medical training they are taught to always honour the sacrifice, and so they recite “the four hundred names” in spite of the annoyed and bored parents. Every now and then Ertanians try to abolish the tradition of the four hundred names, but they are never successful. After all, briars and tyras hold a large political power, since every Ertanian needs their medical attention lest the dark age resume.

Now a few days into the fifth age, an Ertanian woman called Kafendre fell gravely sick. She had always been healthy and strong, but the illness tore at her body like a savage animal. Her skin lost all colour and her voice turned raspy. On the third night, Kafendre took her final breath in her husband’s arms and fell still. The man, called Stein, began mourning. But in a minute he felt her stir again.

“I’m sorry,” Kafendre said with a faint smile, “I must have fallen asleep.” Stein embraced her and thanked Quater for the miracle, his tears of sorrow turning into tears of happiness.

Kafendre’s state began improving until, a month later, she was as healthy as a fiddle. Another three months passed and she told her husband that she was with a child.

They named their first daughter Raznedeadra, Razi for short. Giving her such a long unpronounceable name was Stein’s idea. His family had a long-standing tradition of embarrassing their children by ridiculous names; Stein’s full name was Steinelwardumrist. Since he couldn’t get back at his father, he vented his frustration by insisting Raznedeadra was a wonderful name, and thus perpetuated his family’s tradition.

As every Ertanian child, Razi received a familiar at birth. She fumbled with the dark purplish viper at first, but as every child, before long she learned to move it just as well as her arms and legs. On her third birthday, she got her first goggles. Airtight, black and sleek, they had been invented some fifty years prior to replace the traditional linen bandages. They had since become an irreplaceable accessory for all but the most old-fashioned Ertanians. Their inside was filled to the brim with painkilling oil (much improved since the times of Briar and Tyra). They allowed no air in, which eased the inflammation, and they protected the “other eyes” from mechanical harm. Razi wore her goggles proudly and never took them off.

Half a year later, Razi got an even greater gift – a sister called Sveasilovudie, Svea for short. Stein and Kafendre immediately noticed that their two daughters had something in common. Razi had a spiral-shaped birthmark on the top of her left hand. Stein and Kafendre had dismissed it as a strange coincidence, but now Svea had a birthmark on the same place as well, only of a different shape. The concerned parents sought the advice of Ertanian elders. Thus they learned that their children sported the ancient symbols of earth and fire. It was quite possible, the elders said, that Razi and Svea would grow up to become the Guardians of Earth and Fire. To that Stein and Kafendre replied that both of their daughters were completely normal children. But the elders warned them that even though their powers hadn’t manifested yet, they could come to light any day. The two of them should be ready. There was no telling what would happen.

Razi grew to love Svea fiercely, and though she was still a wee girl herself, she always wanted to take care of her. One day Kafendre left the little Svea in Razi’s care while she went outside to hang the laundry. She was nearly done when she heard screams from the house. She rushed back and found Razi cradling her sister, rocking her back and forth.

“Mama!” Razi cried out when she saw Kafendre. “Svea messed up her bandages. Help me, she’s crying so much…”

Kafendre stopped only to stroke the back of Razi’s neck and then ran off to get fresh bandages and painkilling oil. When she returned, she was surprised that Svea was crying much softer than before. She prepared everything for the redressing and braced herself before she took the creased bandages off as quickly as she could. She was prepared for blood-curdling screams when the air touched Svea’s other eyes. But the baby didn’t wail half as loudly as she should have. While Razi was holding Svea up, Kafendre wrapped new bandages around Svea’s little head and wondered at this stroke of good luck. Then she noticed that something else was off. Razi’s eyes – the eyes of her familiar – weren’t red. They were as green as emeralds.

When Kafendre finished redressing Svea’s other eyes, Razi lay her little sister down carefully and curled up around her. “I’m so tired, mama,” she said before she fell swiftly asleep.

Kafendre was perplexed by this episode. She told everything to Stein in the evening and they both decided to wait until Razi woke up from her deep slumber. When she finally stirred and opened her eyes, they asked:

“What did you do, little girl? What happened with Svea?”

Razi replied: “I just wanted her to stop crying… Where is she? Is she okay? I have to see her…” She wouldn’t calm down until she made sure Svea was alright. Then she put her tiny finger to her tiny lips and said: “Mama? How is your back?”

“Like always,” Kafendre said. “It hurts but it’s nothing bad.”

“Let me have a look,” Razi insisted.

Kafendre smiled and sat on the bed. Razi climbed up behind her and ran her tiny hands along her mama’s hurting back. She blinked a few times… and her eyes turned green again.

“I can help you,” she said. “Hold still.”

Kafendre felt a strange warmth permeating her stiff muscles, like she was sitting with her back to the fire. Her back pains, which had started back when she was bearing Razi, began melting away. She sighed with relief. A few minutes later she felt better than she had in years. Finally Razi yawned and crawled onto her lap.

“I’m tired,” she said, curled up and fell asleep again.

That was when Stein and Kafendre came to believe that their children would truly grow up to become the Guardians.

As time went on, both Razi and Svea became quite the handfuls. Razi was bossy and overprotective while Svea was moody and defiant. Soon after finding her talent for healing, Razi discovered her ability of telekinesis as well. Nothing was safe from her grasp. Often she would steal cookies hidden in the topmost shelves. Even more often she would drop things and break them, so she was soon forbidden her to use telekinesis inside the house. This, of course, didn’t stop Razi, who always knew better. Secretly she began teaching her sister to use her fire powers as well. But when they set the bedsheets on fire and Svea began crying with terror instead of dousing it, even Razi had to admit that everything had its time.

“Mama, when will you give us more brothers and sisters?” Razi would ask Kafendre every once in a while. “There’s supposed to be five of us.” She counted on her fingers: “Earth, fire, water, air and invisible forces.”

And Kafendre would smile and stroke Razi’s head. “One day, little earthling.”

Razi learned the sad truth when a tyra visited the house and she overheard his conversation with Kafendre. The illness which had once nearly slain Kafendre hadn’t disappeared from her body. It seemed like it never would. It lurked in her muscles and internal organs, waiting for its opportunity. It was too risky for her to have any more children, the tyra said, and Kafendre nodded sadly.

Hearing this, the seven-year-old Razi’s heart filled with compassion and defiance. She wouldn’t let fate toy with her family like that! There were always five Guardians, one for each element, and this incarnation would be no different!

At the dinner, Razi announced: “Mama, papa, I want to become a tyra.”

Stein chuckled and patted the back of Razi’s neck. “You have to finish school first.”

“No, I don’t. I’ll become a tyra instead so that I can help mama have more babies,” Razi said with a conviction only a child can muster. Stein and Kafendre looked at each other. Then Kafendre smiled.

“You will make for a wonderful tyra, Razi,” she said. “You have the warmest, softest hands I have ever known.”

Thus Razi’s tyra education began. While Svea dilly-dallied about, picking fights and burning everyone but herself, her older sister studied diligently. Every Friday evening she would come home from cram school and give her mother a relaxing massage. Her eyes sparkled green as she healed all that she could. Afterward she would slump and sleep for most of Saturday. But her hard work paid off. Year after year, Kafendre felt herself grow stronger. And on Razi’s tenth birthday, Kafendre whispered to her that she would have another sibling.

Kafendre nearly miscarried thrice but Razi saved her every time. Despite her slim age, she was becoming the family’s tyra and one of the town’s most renown citizens. Her hands were the softest and the warmest, but her will was iron and her word was law. It was thanks to her tireless efforts that eventually Kafendre gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Stein named him Itsellenisaan, Itsel for short.

Itsel was still tiny when Kafendre’s belly swelled again and a mere year and a day later, another boy followed suit. This one was named Insattamirko, Insa for short. Itsel and Insa grew inseparable. They shared everything, from clothes and food to first words. They would fight just as often as get along swell, and it was in those fights that they first called upon their elemental powers. As their birthmarks had already betrayed, Itsel was the Guardian of Air and Insa was the Guardian of Water. Itsel, being the older one, always had a bit of an upper hand, but Insa was a slippery thing (literally). They were best friends from the time they could crawl.

Seeing that Kafendre had her hands full with the two boys, Razi stopped asking for her fifth sibling for a time. But when Itsel and Insa began attending pre-school (together in the same class, because Itsel wouldn’t leave Insa’s side), she began suspecting that despite her selfless help her mother wasn’t keen on bearing the last Guardian. Another year trickled past and Razi confronted her mother angrily. She had to deliver the Guardian of Invisible Forces! What Razi didn’t expect was that Kafendre would burst out angrily:

“Insolent girl! That is no way to speak to your mother! It isn’t my duty to give you another sibling, and it isn’t your right to demand one. I never wanted to have so many children. Your father and I barely earn enough to feed the four of you. You will not ask me to bend to your every whim, not in such a tone!”

Stunned and on the verge of tears, Razi ran away. She returned very late, and found Kafendre awake with worry in the kitchen.

“Mum,” Razi said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know we were falling on hard times. I can get a part-time job to help you and dad out. I’m not a full tyra yet, but I’m sure people will find my healing useful.”

Kafendre embraced her daughter and said: “Your healing demands you give a part of yourself. Don’t sell it to strangers. I’m sorry for shouting at you. You don’t have to get a job, love. Just focus on school and be patient. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to give you your last sibling. But when I am, you’ll know it first.”

When Razi turned fourteen, she was faced with a difficult choice. As a gifted tyra student and an emerging celebrity, she was offered a scholarship at the Haven Medical School. Located near the ruins of the ancient Haven, it was the most prestigious school of Ertan. It was also quite literally on the other end of the world. If Razi accepted the scholarship, she would have to leave her mother behind, and she just didn’t know how well Kafendre would hold up without her regular healing. In the end, however, she decided that her family was strong enough to get by without her. Seen off by half of her hometown, Razi got on a train and left.

Without Razi’s stern leadership, things got a little wilder in Stein and Kafendre’s household. Svea had always had a thing for protecting the weak and unfortunate, but usually she only targeted bullies. Now she managed to get involved with an actual crime syndicate, and on one of her vigilante escapades she got in way over head. She would have been hurt badly if she didn’t suddenly conjure a fiery sword out of thin air. Both she and the boys thought that the sword was madly cool; Stein and Kafendre disagreed. What was worse, Svea then took it into her head to become a swordswoman. Her parents betrayed her from such a career, arguing that she was still bad at controlling her fire powers and she was likely to hurt someone. But Svea scoffed at that sentiment. She needed to learn fighting precisely so that she would get better at controlling her fire! And thus her noble quests added another crease to her parents’ foreheads.

On the next autumn, just as Razi’s third year at the Haven Medical began, Kafendre fell ill. Stein recognised the symptoms right away – it was the same sudden illness that had nearly killed her once. Doctors couldn’t help her then and they couldn’t help her now either. A letter was sent to Razi immediately, but it was a lost cause; there was no way she would arrive in time. The illness progressed just as quickly and violently as the first time. On the morning of the second day, the six-year-old Itsel disobeyed his parents and took to the air. He commanded the winds to carry him to Razi’s school, fast like an arrow. He got lost, however, and he could find his way neither to the school nor home.

On the third night, Kafendre took her final breath in her husband’s arms and fell still. Stein, Svea and Insa began mourning. But in a minute, the fiery Svea raised her head.

“What’s this?” she said. “Who is this?”

There was no response. Stein was about to chide his daughter for being disrespectful at her mother’s deathbed when Insa said: “I can feel him, too. Who are you, stranger? Why have you come?”

“That’s no stranger,” Svea said in awe. “That is Quater himself.”

And then, for the second time in his life, Stein felt his wife’s dead body stir in his arms. Kafendre opened her eyes and said: “Oh dear… did I fall asleep again?”

By the time the terrified Razi arrived, Kafendre was well on her way to recovery. Razi tended to her first. After she slept it off, she took Svea along on a journey to find the lost Itsel. The three siblings returned a few weeks later. Svea refused to dismiss her sword from then on, and instead she took it with her everywhere she went.

In the safety of her home, Razi broke down. The worst had come to pass – her mother had nearly died and Itsel had gone through his own fair share of hardships. All because Razi had left her family. She swore that she would never leave them again. Even without finishing her studies, she had enough experience to find a job as a tyra apprentice. It would mean throwing away all of her effort until now, but she couldn’t bear the thought that Kafendre’s brush with death was her fault. Her family tried to talk her out of it, but Razi knew better… like she always did.

When Razi discovered not three months later that Kafendre was with a child, she couldn’t help but recall the circumstances of her own birth. She spoke of it to no one, but a dark suspicion took root in her heart.

Kafendre’s fifth and last child was a strong girl. Stein named her Aintdonnensali, Aini for short. Aini was everyone’s darling, Itsel and Insa’s most of all. The boys loved playing with her and took her along almost everywhere they went. Things were really looking up for a change. But then another disaster struck.

While Itsel, Insa and Aini were playing hide-and-seek in the woods, a hungry beast came upon them. It sneaked up on the five-year-old Aini and leaped, sinking its fangs into her familiar. Aini cried out in shock and pain. The best snapped its jaws and broke the viper’s neck. Aini’s world went dark and she nearly fainted. But Ertanians were taught to weather pain from early childhood. Aini’s element called to her; sparks danced along her arms as she was preparing for the beast’s next strike. She heard it coming and assumed it would go for the neck again. But she was wrong. In the next second, Aini was on the ground and the beast was chewing on her legs as if they were bubblegum.

Overcoming faintness once again, Aini concentrated all of her will to hurt in her hands and fumbled about. But be it her inexperience or confusion, she only managed to jolt the beast and make it angry. The next thing she knew, her left arm was being shredded by the beast’s claws. Her familiar followed suit, ripped out at the base of her neck. Her consciousness fading, Aini knew that her last remaining right hand had to kill now. She didn’t realise that her brothers had heard her fighting and were coming to the rescue. Blinded by pain, she didn’t see Itsel blow the beast away with a powerful gust of air. She didn’t see Insa run toward her and take her outstretched hand. All she saw as the built-up electricity discharged into her brother was white light. Then she finally passed out.

Itsel cried out in horror when Insa crumpled to the ground. He turned away from the toppled beast and dashed to his siblings. While he was trying to rouse his brother, the beast shook its head and got to its feet again. Then it charged at the meddling boy.

Itsel thrust his arms forward, trying to blow the beast back again. But the beast dug its claws into the ground and advanced despite the howling gale. Itsel shoved the wind harder, but his heart was wavering with fear for his brother and sister. The beast swept its sharp claws and carved up both his forearms. As his left wrist was nearly taken off, Itsel realised that the beast could slay him there and then. And if he fell, there would be no one left to save Insa and Aini.

The courage to defy death brings terrible strength. The next thing Itsel knew, trees were breaking under the gale’s might. The beast flew up into the air; it lolled and turned jerking its legs uselessly. With a vengeful shout, Itsel sent it plummeting down on one of the broken trunks. The splintered wood pierced the beast. It convulsed and screeched but it couldn’t wrench itself free. As soon as Itsel saw that it wasn’t going anywhere anymore, he stilled the tempest and rushed back to his siblings.

“Aini, Insa!” he called, but he got no response. He lulled the winds around him to a complete still and listened close. Neither of his siblings were breathing. “No…” he sobbed. “No! I have to get Razi!”

A pair of wings sprouted from his shoulder blades and he sprang into the air. Faster than a hawk, he made his way toward the doctor’s office where Razi worked. He found her and the doctor taking a break under a spruce tree.

“Razi!” he shouted. “You have to come with me! Aini and Insa are dying!”

Razi leapt to her feet. “Where?”

“Wait, take me with you!” the doctor said, but Itsel had already gripped Razi’s arms, swept his wings and risen into the air.

When the two Guardians arrived at the site of carnage, Razi immediately set to work. She instructed Itsel to press Insa’s chest hard and regularly while she attended the mangled Aini. After a while the smitten Insa stirred and coughed, but Aini remained motionless. Razi wiped her brow and took her shirt off, wrapping Aini in it.

“Itsel, take her to the doctor’s office,” she said, exhausted. “I can’t do any more.”

Both Aini and Insa survived the incident, but with dire consequences. The town’s briars had to amputate both of Aini’s legs, one above the knee, one below it, her left arm above the elbow and her familiar entirely. Insa was treated with severe lightning burns all along his right hand and forearm; the meandering scar never faded and he lost most sensitivity in the hand. Itsel didn’t escape unscathed either. The gashes in his forearms, aggravated by carrying both Razi and Aini, healed into broad angry scars. But neither of the brothers complained. It was Aini they worried about.

After the little girl woke up, she spent most of her time lying motionless. She would get up for food and drink, physical needs and rehabilitative exercises, but other than that she had lost all interest in the world around her. One evening Razi told her:

“Aini? I know that everything looks dark to you right now. But you have to go on. It isn’t over yet. After you heal, we can fit you with prosthetics. I don’t know if anyone will give you a new familiar, but if any briar will, I’ll find them. You can still lead a great life. So don’t give up.”

Turning her head toward her sister’s voice, Aini smiled and said: “I haven’t given up. I’m just looking at all these things. I didn’t notice them before. They’re so beautiful, you wouldn’t believe.”

“How?” Razi asked. “Your eyes are gone.”

Aini shrugged. “I don’t know. But they are all around me. I can see you, too. Faintly… but I can.”

As Razi promised, after a time Aini was given prosthetics. She didn’t like them; she said they were hard and made her clumsy. Whenever she could, she would take them off and ask her family to carry her around instead. Razi didn’t like to see it and Stein, Kafendre and Svea were usually busy, but Itsel and Insa obliged happily. They took Aini along to school, brought her to her private lessons and took care of everything she needed. It was little trouble; Aini was always quiet and calm, strangely mature for her age just like Razi had once been. Before Itsel and Insa knew it, Aini had become their leader despite her age and state. She had a way about her, like she could see more than others. She never got another familiar, but it was like she didn’t need one in the first place.

In time Razi noticed a curious thing. Aini was slowly taking the reigns over her family from her hands. Even the fiery Svea was accommodating Aini’s whims, even though she usually deferred to no one but Razi. Presently the oldest and the youngest sisters began butting heads. At first Razi couldn’t believe she actually had to fight for authority with a mere child. Aini was just eight! But there was no way around it. Aini was an alpha and as the Guardian of Invisible Forces, she asked for her rightful position as the leader of the Guardians.

The two sisters’ rivalry grew into an animosity that no one was happy about. The family, and by extension the entire town, became polarised. Some supported Razi, a well-known tyra with the warmest, softest hands you have ever seen. But those who met Aini, perched proudly atop Itsel or Insa’s shoulders, couldn’t help but be swayed by her charm. Where Razi was strict, Aini was opportunistic. Where Razi offered a second chance, Aini made a deterrent example. Where Razi went alone, Aini moved in a group.

One winter Sunday at breakfast, Aini said: “Razi, will you carry me to Quater’s shrine?”

Razi frowned and replied: “I’ll go there with you, but only if you walk on your own two feet.”

Aini sighed. “Very well. If I slip on the ice, will you catch me?”

“I will.”

When they reached Quater’s shrine, Aini sat in the snow and unfastened her prosthetic legs.

“Why have we come here?” Razi asked.

“You always say that I’m just a little girl,” Aini said, looking up to the bleak sky. “I want to show you why that isn’t true. Let’s wait here. He promised that he would come today.”

They waited together, among the bare trees, by the quiet shrine. When they grew cold, Aini fastened her legs on and they played catch. It was nice, just the two of them. It was like they could get along if they had nothing to fight over.

After a time Aini raised her head. “He’s here.”

Razi looked around. “Who?”

“You’ll see.”

It took a few seconds before Razi gasped and looked to the shrine. “No.”

“Oh yes.” Aini walked toward the shrine and bowed. “Hello, creator. Thank you for coming here on my behalf.”

A distant thought, like the sun’s warm rays, touched Razi’s consciousness. Hello. Welcome. It was wordless and indistinct, and yet so majestic that Razi sank to her knees at once.

“Quater,” she whispered. The warm thought lingered for a while more, then disappeared. And yet, Quater’s presence didn’t fade. Both the sisters gazed at the shrine, Razi disbelieving, Aini thoughtful.

“He says we were supposed to be born together,” Aini said. “When mother first became pregnant. She had twins, me and you.”

“What happened to you?” Razi asked, tongue leaden.

Aini shrugged. “You’re the doctor. You should know.”

Razi looked down.

“He’s also angry with us,” Aini said. “We have lingered at the same spot for too long. The only one who has done any good in the world was Svea, and she was always scolded for it.”

“I have done some good in the world!” Razi said. “I’m a tyra. My hands take pain away.”

Aini cocked her head to the side, as if listening, and said, as if repeating: “You aren’t a tyra. You haven’t even finished high school. And you have only ever healed mother, father and the four of us. The good you have spread was that of your own hands, not that of your element.”

“You know that’s complicated!” Razi said. “I’m still banned by the city council from doing any construction works because I’d rob people of their jobs. And don’t you remember what happened when Itsel and Insa tried to control the weather? Svea’s element is simply good for nothing but punishment, fire is that way!”

“You’re right, our hands are tied while we remain here,” Aini said. “That’s exactly why we should leave this place and help people elsewhere. Quater created us to protect his creation. We have to fulfil his intent.”

“And leave our home?” Razi asked, pale.

“No,” Aini said. “Leave Ertan.”

Razi stared at the shrine, wordless. “No,” she uttered finally. “If I leave Ertan, mother will…”

“You don’t know that,” Aini said. “And even if you did, there’s nothing you can do about it. We were meant to help all of Quater’s people. We always were. There’s nothing you can do. It’s our destiny.”

Razi shook her head silently. Aini turned her back to the shrine and went to hug her.

“We don’t have to go today,” she said. “Or tomorrow. There are still things we need to finish here. I have to learn to walk properly and Itsel and Insa should finish school.” She smiled. “The same goes for you, actually. Quater wishes that you become a real tyra. That scholarship had better still be valid.”

Razi sobbed into her sister’s embrace. “Aini, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“That’s why you have me,” Aini said. “Trust me. I can see where this road goes. It’s long and winding, but everything will turn out for the best in the end.”

And thus the long fight was finally over. Aini, by then ten years old, became the Guardian leader and spokesperson while Razi left for Haven Medical to finish her studies. A year and a half later Razi, Itsel and Insa graduated. On the day of Razi’s 30th birthday, the five Guardians said goodbye to their parents and left Ertan.

Nike leans back against the bench and stares at the red sky for a long time.

The sun has long set when the Guardians return to the inn. The little Aini (not so little anymore, Nike thinks) is riding atop her brother’s shoulders. Nike checks the man’s arms and finds an angry meandering scar extending from the fingertips up to the elbow. That’s… Insa, then. The one who had given him the book. Itsel and Razi are carrying Svea between them. The Fire Guardian trips and curses; it seems like she can’t put weight on one of her legs. She collapses on a chair, leans back and groans. Wordlessly Nike passes her his glass of beer. She says thanks and drinks thirstily.

“What happened?” Nike asks.

“What does it look like?” Razi retorts. “She sprained her ankle! Where is the… oh nevermind, I’ll do it myself. Here, bite into this.” She hands Svea a roll of bandage. “Itsel, Insa, hold her. Svea, are you ready? Okay, one, two, three.”

There’s a dull crack and Svea grunts and pales. She doesn’t cry out or whimper, however. She just starts taking deep breaths.

“Good, that was the worst of it,” Razi says, palpating the swollen ankle. “Give me a moment to bandage your foot and I’ll heal you right afterward.”

While Razi’s working, Aini scoots closer to Nike. She nods toward the stone-bound book on the table before him. “I see Insa’s taken some liberties,” she says quietly so the others don’t overhear. “What do you think of our people’s history?”

“It’s gruesome,” Nike says.

“It is,” Aini agrees. “And what do you think of our history?”

“The five of you? I don’t know what to think. I barely know any of you.” Nike pauses. “Is everything in here true?”

Aini shrugs. “It’s the Wall of Records. It doesn’t lie.”

“So you nearly killed Insa once?”

“I did.”

“And you can speak to Quater?”

“I can. Funny you should ask in that order.”

“And your mother died twice?”

There’s a noticeable pause before Aini says: “She did. But let me ask you something in return. Why did Insa give you this book?”

“He said I should know your history if I’m after Razi,” Nike says. He looks over at the Earth Guardian. She doesn’t seem to hear them, being utterly focused on healing Svea’s ankle.

“I see,” Aini says. She raises her voice back to normal level and says: “Insa. Why did you give Nike that book?”

Insa shrugs. “I thought he might get bored.”

Nike can practically hear Aini rolling her eyes when she says: “Sure, so you let him read the four hundred names. Don’t lie to me, Insa. Why did you give him the book?”

Everyone looks at Insa at that. The Water Guardian seems to shrink under their stares. “I… ugh, fine! It’s because I know who Nike is. Alright? I read about him on the Wall of Records. It didn’t seem fair that I know everything about him and he doesn’t know anything about us. So I thought I might level the ground.”

“Oh,” Aini says with interest and turns to back Nike. “So you also enjoy the privilege of having your most personal secrets divulged by the Wall?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Nike says. “I haven’t read it in a long time.”

“Which section are in?” Itsel asks.

Nike plays with his glass and suddenly he’s tempted to lie. He doesn’t care for the drama his answer will elicit. He doesn’t care for what Insa has read about him on the Wall. He just wants to be Nike, son of free will, unburdened by whatever he was once created to be… and whom he lost along the way.

Then he laughs at himself, and he says: “Hoborg’s section. I’m from the Neverhood.”

The five Guardians fall silent.

“Insa,” Aini says finally. “I’ll ask one more time. Why did you give Nike that book?”

Insa sighs. “Because he knew the previous generation, let their names rot forever. I wanted to make it clear that we aren’t like them.”

To Nike’s surprise, Aini laughs. She’s got a nice laugh, like jingle bells. “That’s why?” she asks. “Silly Insa! Of course he knows we aren’t like them! You’d have to be stupid to think we are anything like the Neverhood generation. I made very sure of that.”

“I don’t know,” Razi pipes up, looking up from her work on Svea’s ankle. “When I met Nike for the first time, he asked if I remembered anything from my previous life.”

“And?” Aini says.

“I yelled at him.”

“As you should have,” Aini nods. “Very well, let’s put this behind us! Insa, is there anything we should know from Nike’s history?”

Before Nike can stop Insa, the man nods vigorously and says: “Yes. Who is Klogg, really?”

Nike draws a blank for a second. “Why do you ask?” he says finally.

“Because it’s Klogg who destroyed the Emperor, and no one knows how! The Wall says you and Klogg travelled the universe together for centuries. I can’t believe I came upon a Neverhoodian of all people. How old are you? I wouldn’t guess more than thirty, but that’s the thing with you immortals…”

“Excuse my brother,” Itsel says, grabbing Insa by the familiar and tugging him backward, “he’s a total historian geek and he pops a boner whenever he gets wind of new info.”

“No, I don’t-”

“Yeeaah no, I can see what’s happening under the table.”

Aini rolls her eyes. “Boys,” she tells Nike with a smile.

Over the brothers’ bickering Razi asks: “How old are you?”

“Something over 1100,” Nike says. “Closer to 1200 probably.”

Razi whistles. “I can see why you’d lose count at that point.”

Eventually Aini tells Itsel and Insa to take it outside, which they do. When Razi finishes healing Svea, the two sisters bide Aini and Nike good night and they go up the stairs. The innkeeper stops by the table a few minutes later.

“You two should go to sleep, too,” he says. “It’s getting late and tomorrow is another day.” “I’m waiting for my brothers to come back,” Aini says. “Nike?”

“Do you have a free room?” Nike asks.

The innkeeper shakes his head. “I’m afraid this is a tiny establishment. I have two rooms, and they’re taken by your friends. But if you can make do with just a bed, there are six beds and five Guardian so there should still be one left. Let’s see… if the ladies sleep in one room, there should be a free bed in the gentlemen’s room.”

Aini snickers. “Gentlemen,” she repeats.

“That’s fine,” Nike says. “I’ll sleep outside.”

“As you like it.”

When the innkeeper leaves, Aini asks: “Don’t you want to sleep together with Razi? I was actually sleeping with Itsel and Insa. You can have the bed in the ladies room, no problem.”

Nike huffs. “Why do you all keep insisting that Razi and I have something going on? Seriously, we met once. For a day.”

“Ah yes, so she says, too,” Aini says. “But we all saw how she greeted you.” She pats the back of her neck. “You wouldn’t know, but this is a special place to us Ertanians. If you took someone’s familiar and jerked real hard, you could rip it right out. I should know,” she says dryly, running her hand over her bare throat. “People get very anxious when a stranger touches their familiar. And the greeting Razi used, you know…” She indicates pulling someone close and bumping foreheads with them. “…it’s pretty much only for family and lovers. So we all assumed that you and Razi had something going on and met more than once.”

“Huh,” Nike says. “I wonder why she did that. We really are just friends.”

“Maybe she was excited from meeting Svea.”

“Maybe.”

It’s then that Itsel and Insa burst back inside. They are covered in brown and green stains as if they have been wrestling in the grass.

“Okay, here’s the deal!” Itsel says.

“We can’t agree on who should have you,” Insa follows up. “And I’m done arguing with this airhead. Nike, who would you rather spend the night with? Pick me and I’ll show you the most skilled tongue on all of Ertan.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Itsel says. “He’d just ask you boring history questions all night! Spend the night with me and we’ll soar the sky! Literally if you want.”

Nike draws a blank once again. Aini snickers into her palm next to him. When she notices Nike’s indignant look, she waves her hand and says: “Don’t mind me. They’re just that way. Well? Which one would you pick?”

“Yes, which one?” Itsel says.

“Neither?” Nike says.

“Dammit!” Itsel says. “It’s like Razi said, he’s a faithful one.”

“I thought he would at least hesitate,” Insa says sadly. “So who’s the girl? Or guy. Or bug. Or whatever you’re choosing over me, Itsel and Razi.”

Nike lifts his hand up. “That must be a misunderstanding. I don’t have anyone.” In his mind, he adds: for the first time in 700 years.

The boys goggle at him. Then they turn to each other.

“He’s single!”

“Yeah I heard him. Are you up to raising the stakes?”

“Hell yeah!”

They turn back to Nike and Itsel says: “Let me rephrase the question. Which one of us will you sleep with tonight?”

“How about both?” Aini suggests. “You’re all going to share the same room anyway.” When Nike gives her a perplexed look, she doesn’t even blush. “What? I grew up with the two of them. This isn’t any worse than half of their ideas.”

Itsel and Insa seem equally perplexed by her suggestion.

“Dude, is that even legal?” Insa asks.

Itsel grins. “Do I hear a forfeit?”

“Hell no. I’m up for it if you are. Not like I’ll see anything new anyway.”

“Yeah. And then Nike can decide which one he liked better!”

The two turn to Nike, awaiting the verdict. The hoophead pinches his forehead.

“What if I’m too tired to sleep with either of you?”

Immediately Insa replies: “Then I call bullshit, because you’re a Neverhoodian. You’re immortal and live forever, a few weeks of fast travel can’t be anything to you.”

Nike smirks at that. “I’m not what I used to be.” He considers their proposal. It’s true that it has been a long time…

“Just so we’re clear,” Aini says, interrupting his thoughts. “They will take no for an answer. They’re powerful things, but they’re professionals. They won’t force themselves on you. They’re just excited that they can fight over something again.”

“What? No!” Itsel says. “Nononono, Nike – it’s just that you’re really hot!”

“You’re so big,” Insa says dreamily. “I can’t help but wonder what else is big.”

Nike has to laugh at that. “You guys know nothing of Neverhoodian bodies, don’t you?”

“No, unfortunately,” Insa says. “The Wall isn’t very informative on that topic.”

“You might be surprised.”

“Are you saying you’ve decided?”

“Yeah, I guess I have,” Nike says, a little surprised at himself. “What the heck. You’re pretty cute. And I don’t want to make this the day I declined a threesome with two Guardians. Especially if one of them promises the most skilled tongue on all of Ertan.”

“Haha, you’re gonna get it,” Insa says, eyes lighting up.

Itsel, on the other hand, crosses his arms. “Insa,” he mopes, “he called us cute!”

“He’s fifty times older than us,” Insa tells his brother. “I think he has a right to call us cute.”

“Wait, doesn’t that make him too old for us? What was the rule, divided by two plus seven?”

“Do I hear a forfeit?”

“You wish!”

The four of them ascend the stairs to the upper floor. Quietly Insa opens the ladies’ room and sets Aini down on the bed. She whispers something to him; Insa smiles and nods. Gently he closes the door again.

“She says we should keep it down, else Razi might come in and tuck us in.”

When Nike wakes up on the following morning, it’s late. It’s late as in, it isn’t morning anymore. He finds a tray with a sweet bun and inconsolably cold coffee next to his bed. There’s a note saying: “Hope we didn’t destroy you too much… I+I” There’s a picture of a rainy cloud next to their initials that has Nike smile. He stretches out and finds that yes, they did destroy him. Utterly and lovably. He’s going to be sore for the entire day, but he supposes it was worth it.

When he comes downstairs, he finds Razi leafing through Insa’s stone book.

“Where is everyone?” Nike asks and sits down gingerly. Razi looks him up and down, her eyes stopping at his middle, and it has him wonder just how much she knows about last night.

“They went for a walk,” she says. “I can’t imagine where. There’s nothing but grass around here.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Frankly, because Itsel and Insa asked me to stay behind and make sure you were okay.” She shrugs. “But also because I wanted to talk to you.” She reaches out and cups the back of his neck. Comforting heat starts spilling down Nike’s spine as her eyes turn green. He leans on the table and slumps over.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer for a while. The heat swirls around Nike’s body. “Mum is dead,” she says finally. “Aini told us in the morning. I thought you should know.”

Nike reaches over and takes her hand. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Razi squeezes back and heaves a deep sigh. “I knew it would happen. It was just a matter of when and… how much it would hurt.” She falls silent. Her familiar turns toward the book and its head moves from side to side lightly. A wry smile twists Razi’s lips. “She spoke of it to no one,” she reads, “but a dark suspicion took root in her heart. Hah, even the stupid Wall knows. You know what? I’ll – I’ll say it. The Wall is probably writing out my thoughts as we speak anyway. I might as well say it out loud.” She sits up straighter. “Quater let mum die because she’s fulfilled what he wanted from her,” she says in a loud, shaky voice. “No more miracles. Just death. I can’t believe… I can’t believe the total dickhead of a child I used to be. I can’t believe all the things I told her, and how she would always smile…”

Gently Nike shrugs off Razi’s hand and embraces her instead. Razi hides in his arms and draws a sob. She fights her tears all the way, crying more with her breath than her eyes. Tentatively Nike rests his palm on the nape of her neck; she stiffens at first, but then she sags against him again. Her familiar slithers on top of his hand, its red eyes open, dry and unblinking.

“Sorry,” Razi says finally, pushing herself upright. “You got the brunt of it. I just can’t cry in front of my family.”

“We’re even now,” Nike says.

Razi smiles faintly as she recalls their first encounter. “True.”

They sit in silence for a while. Then Razi clears her throat and cups the back of Nike’s neck again. “Anyway,” she says as her eyes turn green once more, “that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Back when we first met, you asked me to come to the Neverhood with you. I was wondering if the offer still stands.”

Surprised, Nike says: “I thought you didn’t want to go.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve been wondering if I could learn anything about healing there. Maybe immortal bodies just work differently. Plus,” she says and smiles, “who doesn’t want to see the neighbourhood that lasts forever? It’s said that a swig from the Neverhood fountain will cure any illness.”

Nike chuckles. “They say that?”

“And more,” Razi assures him. “Will you take me there?”

Nike stares at his hands. To return to the Neverhood? So quickly after he left? And with a Guardian of Earth to boot? What would Klogg say to that? What would happen if Razi saw what remained of the Garden? Would she… Would she remember anything?

“Nike,” Razi says, squeezing the nape of his neck very gently. Her hands really are soft and warm.

Nike wipes at his eyes. He doesn’t have the privilege of having no tears to cry. “Are you sure?” he asks. “Everyone who still remembers Arig will probably ask you about him.”

Razi sighs. “I expect as much,” she says. “It’s fine. It’s worth the chance to learn something new. I just don’t want to squander this opportunity. I didn’t think I’d run into you again. I’ve been scolding myself for the past two years for letting you go.”

Nike is silent for a while before he asks: “How long do Ertanians live?”

“About a hundred years. Why?”

He stares at his hands: exactly the same as when he first saw them, over a millennium ago.

“I didn’t think I’d meet you again either,” he says.

He thinks how his hands will be exactly the same a hundred years later, when Razi is long dead and another Guardian of Earth is born, and suddenly he feels very old.

#neverhood #fanart #fanfiction #razi #svea #itsel #insa #aini #nike

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winterromanov · 6 years ago

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she’s the sunset (in the west) - thasmin fic (2/?)

Yaz doesn’t make promises lightly. It’s one of her things. A promise should be taken seriously, carried out. If she’s promised to bake a cake for the school summer fair even though she can’t bake for shit, she’s still going to do it, layering the burnt bits in slightly sloppy buttercream. If she’s promised to take her parents to the airport at 3am on a school day, she’ll set an alarm and turn up to work the next morning on with a coffee stapled to her hands.

If she’s promised to find Poppy Smith some friends, she’s one hundred percent going to do that too. She remembers the warmth in Joanna’s eyes at the thought of it—this feels important, like she could actually change something. It might not work. It might be that in less than a year’s time Poppy will move up into year one and nothing will have changed, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try.

She brainstorms ideas at her tiny kitchen table as soon as she comes through the door. Ryan’s not home yet so she violently clatters all his dirty crockery into the empty sink, dragging her flipchart paper down the stairs (which she saves only for special occasions). An hour later, her whole kitchen wall is covered in bright pink post-it notes, like she’s attempting some spontaneous redecorating.

“What the—“

Yaz almost jumps out of her skin, black marker sliding out of her fingers and onto the floor. She’d been so absorbed in her new project she’d never heard the front door creak open—and that’s quite a feat considering Ryan’s just come in from football practice, the studs of his boots usually clicking on the laminate like a herd of women in stiletto heels.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she exclaims, heartrate slowly easing back to normal. Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I literally didn’t, but okay,” he huffs, refusing to look away from the chaos she’s created. He squints as he expertly manoeuvres his dirty kit from his bag to the washing machine—if only he could do that with the socks he leaves stranded in the hallway, she muses. “What the fuck is duck-duck-goose?”

“You’ve never heard of duck-duck-goose?” Yaz asks, open mouthed. Ryan bemusedly shakes his head. “Did you even go to primary school?”

Ryan shrugs. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Not if I could help it, no. Mum was a pushover but Nan never believed me when I told her I had the Japanese flu or whatever.”

“I bet she didn’t,” Yaz hums, because Grace never took any of Ryan’s shit. Not even at the end.

The two of them stand in silence for a moment, like every time Ryan mentions the lost women of his family. Yaz has never felt the pain he has. She can see it in his eyes, sometimes, how it lingers like fog. Dense and dirty but fading, eventually. Slowly.

But it’s okay, he has her. He’s always got her.

(It makes her think of Joanna Smith, again. About the dad that’s not around.)

Ryan snaps out of wistful reverie first, grabbing a beer out the fridge and snapping the lid on the kitchen table. Yaz throws him a look. He knows she hates that, which is probably why he does it. “What’s all this for anyway? Because if you’ve volunteered to lead another year six team-building weekend I’m going to be seriously questioning your sanity. Especially after last time.”

“No,” Yaz tuts, as if she’s going to make that same mistake twice, “There’s this kid in my class who is finding it hard to make friends. I’m trying to…think of something to solve that.”

Ryan takes a long sip of beer, studying more of her responses. “So you think a trip to the aquarium will fix it?”

Yaz shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? Nothing gets five-year-olds talking more than jellyfish. That, and what they’re going to get at the gift shop on the way out.”

“I guess,” Ryan offers, but he doesn’t look too convinced. “Just… some kids don’t want to make friends, Yaz. As long as they don’t seem too unhappy, what’s the harm in it?”

“This kid is four, Ryan. It’s a very important stage in her social growth. If she doesn’t start developing those skills now when she’s little it could be a really big problem later on.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” Ryan says, “All I’m saying…this is a lot of effort for just one kid. As far as you’re concerned, as long as they can count to ten and know most of the alphabet you’ve done your job. And don’t, uh, stick their fingers into plug sockets or something.”

Yaz just about resists the temptation to go off on just how wrong that is and just how Ryan could possibly understand anything about her job, how it’s never just one kid. Yes, she needs to teach them how to read and write and count. But she also needs to teach teamwork, conflict resolution, gratification. How you can’t hit someone with a building block or steal somebody’s sausage rolls at lunchtime. How you must listen to the people around you and acknowledge that sometimes you can’t win, whether that’s the star of the week accolade or someone’s forgiveness, straightaway. How you must be kind, always, forever.

The day she sees a kid in her class that’s struggling to fit in and she thinks it’s just one kid is the day she’ll walk away from teaching and never look back.

“Are you hungry?” Ryan asks, after a moment, “I haven’t eaten yet. Pizza?”

Yaz’s hand relaxes, flexing from a fist to loose. On an outtake of breath she runs a hand through her hair, before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“Cool,” Ryan already has his phone out, scrolling through the options on Dominoes. “Hey, Yaz, if you went through this much effort for a bloke maybe you’d finally get laid.”

It’s meant as a joke but—ha. Yeah. Maybe.

-x-

As it happens, it doesn’t matter how many neatly written post-it notes and mind maps you make. Children will always be ridiculously unpredictable, like they’re wired completely different to every single other person aged eighteen or over. She tries class games, seating plans, even outdoor learning in the summerhouse on the grassy quad near the upper school playground—but nothing will encourage Poppy Smith to talk to the other children, or the other children to talk to her.

Instead, Poppy becomes incredibly attached to Yaz. And that is really, honestly, the last thing she wanted.

“You know, it’s really sunny outside today, Poppy,” Yaz says, as in a new turn of events, Poppy refuses to follow the other children out onto the playground during lunch break. Instead, the little girl stays in her seat, taking her dark blue starry-patterned pack lunch box out of her draw and unpacking it onto the table. “I think some of the other girls were thinking about playing with the new skipping ropes. Wouldn’t you like to play with the skipping ropes?”

Poppy shakes her head decidedly. Silently, she removes a small peanut-butter and banana sandwich from her box and places it in front of her. Yaz watches as she nibbles round the corners first before eating the filling.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go outside?” Yaz asks, somewhat weakly, because she has a feeling Poppy won’t give in to her hints easily. “It’s so dark in here and I have to mark your handwriting worksheets!”

“I want to stay with you, Miss Khan.”

When two little eyes blink innocently back at her, Yaz finds it very hard to resist. Technically, as long as she’s not on her own, it’s not breaking any rules. It’s just—this is not in the plan. It’s not good to let a kid become too attached. It goes against every instinct she has as a teacher, but she knows if she forces Poppy outside she’ll go back to silently stalking the edge of the playground with her book about space, lost in a world of her own.

If she’s in here—just for today—at least she’s in her company. Talking to someone.

“Okay,” Yaz smiles tightly, “As long as you promise to go outside tomorrow, yeah?”

Poppy nods happily and returns to her sandwich.

-x-

Quite by chance, today just so happens to be the day that Joanna is late. As one-by-one the kids spot their parents or guardians in the playground and head off back home, rain splattering off bright red wellies and raincoats, Poppy stands on her tip-toes and peers into the murky outside. The weather has turned somewhat since lunchtime.

Yaz looks at her watch. Quarter to four. The playground is mostly empty, other than a group of mums nattering by the gates, restless kids hanging off their arms or in pushchairs.

It’s the second time she’s been left waiting for Joanna Smith, Yaz ponders, and wonders if it’ll be the last time. She sighs, looking at the back of Poppy’s head, watching as the little girl’s eyes lock on to everything and everyone walking past the school.

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon, Poppy,” Yaz says, gently smoothing Poppy’s hair. Poppy looks back up at her, eyes wide and concerned.

“What if she’s gone to the moon without me?” Poppy asks quietly. Yaz shakes her head with a smile, crouching down so their faces are level.

“Your mum wouldn’t do that, I promise,” Yaz says, “She’d always wait for you. I’m sure of that.”

Poppy frowns. “My daddy didn’t.”

Oh. Oh. Yaz freezes for a second, like she always does when a kid says something like that. You know—something unbearably sad, something hanging and poignant, one of those things that just slips out because kids don’t hide anything. Kids have sad stories too. They carry tragedies in their reading folders, hidden under exercise books and friendship bracelets and constellations of gold star stickers.

Yaz takes one of Poppy’s tiny hands in her own. Notices the stars she’s etched on her palms in blue biro pen. “Look at me, Poppy. Your mummy isn’t going to leave you behind. Ever.”

(It’s a big, big promise. She doesn’t realise it at the time, but it’s the biggest one she’s ever made—because sometimes, sometimes people don’t come back. Or you don’t go back to them. Maybe it’s the first promise she’s made that she won’t be able to keep. Sometime.)

Poppy’s disgruntled expression shifts into a smile, and Yaz can’t help but grin back. When she stands, still clutching onto Poppy’s hand, she can see through the raindrops on the window a shaky, grey figure running towards the door. Against her better judgement, she can feel her heart do something she doesn’t want to put a name to.

The glass door opens and Joanna emerges from the cold, her anorak dripping rain onto the floor in mad, abstract patterns. She pulls down her hood and her blonde hair is a chaotic mess of drenched natural waves—it reminds Yaz of tides and sea-salt and white-sand beaches, somewhere cluttered and rugged like the Northern coast. The kind of water that leaves you freezing but dazzlingly awake, shivering in clean, white towels with piles of seashells in your pockets.

Joanna blinks and catches eyes with Yaz. Grins. “I’m making a habit of this, aren’t I?”

Poppy replies first, dashing towards her mother excitedly. She grabs Joanna’s legs in a hug and Joanna laughs, ruffling her hair.

“Oh, baby, you’ll get all wet,” Joanna murmurs, before clearly deciding that Poppy is going to get wet going outside anyway. She scoops her up into her arms and kisses Poppy’s cheek messily, Poppy’s hands looping round her neck.

“You didn’t go to the moon without me,” Poppy says matter-of-factly.

“Of course I didn’t,” Joanna answers, before looking confusedly back at Yaz, forehead scrunching. “I would never leave you behind. Never ever.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Yaz reassures, “Your mummy was just late, Poppy. Nothing to worry about.”

Joanna grimaces, shifting to bring Poppy further up her hip. “Yeah—I’m so sorry about that, I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yaz responds, smiling comfortingly. Joanna seems to take it, smiling back. “No harm done, eh?”

“No, I suppose not,” Joanna’s eyes seem focussed on Yaz’s face for a second or two, and her heart is doing that thing again, that ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that she’s only ever really felt when Harry Styles winked at her during a One Direction concert fucking years ago.

(Was it really that long ago, huh? Have men really been that disappointing since?)

“Well,” Joanna says, breaking the silence, “I think you deserve a treat, ay, Pop? Ice cream?”

Poppy looks excited but Yaz laughs, glancing at the deluge outside. “You’ve certainly picked the perfect weather for it.”

“Mummy,” Poppy says pointedly, playing with Joanna’s wet hair, “Can Miss Khan come for ice cream with us?”

“Oh, uh—“ Joanna looks at Yaz expectantly, “I mean, of course she can, if you’re allowed…?”

Yaz pauses, because this is not a situation she’s encountered before, and she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do. It’s probably important to keep a professional distance from the kids in her class and their families. She knows she can’t show favouritism, but… this isn’t that, is it? This is just going for ice cream with a woman that she can’t help but want to get to know better. There’s a magnetic quality in Joanna. A one that makes all her wiring stutter and restart.

“You know what,” Yaz answers, after a moment, “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

(Oh, and this is when she discovers that she’ll do anything for a smile from either of the Smith women.)

#doctor who #dw #doctor who fic #doctor who au #thasmin #thasmin fic #doctor x yasmin #thirteenth doctor x yasmin khan #thirteen x yaz #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #thasmin au

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