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bloodfromthethorn · 4 years ago

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Sleep is the Best Cure

“Jack? What-” Mac blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision even as he automatically relaxed into his partner’s hold, trusting him to keep him up while he struggled his way back to the surface.

“Pretty sure you’re going on about 72 hours without sleep and you’ve had, what? Three? Separate traumatic situations in that time? Not much of a surprise you’re about to crash hard.”

Tag to 2x11 and 2x12. Also on AO3.

Mac’s eyes surveyed the wreck of his living room with a building sense of dread. The last few days felt like little more than a blur in his memory and he didn’t think he’d had a chance to pause for breath during any of it. Now that he had a moment to himself, he couldn’t help but worry that the world was about to come crashing down yet again, with him standing right in the middle of it.

Charlie’s attention had been drawn away by one of the team responsible for lifting the barrels out from beneath the floor, while all around them Phoenix personnel were cataloguing every item they could find just in case one of them might grant a clue as to the Ghost’s whereabouts. Mac considered moving to help them - or perhaps back Charlie up in what looked as though it might be descending into some kind of argument about proper procedure - but the instant he took a step to do so, sharp, blinding pain struck him right between the eyes like a lightning bolt.

It was there and gone in a flash, but it left him so startled he staggered back a step in surprise. A hand snatched at his arm before he could do more than sway, tugging him carefully against a supportive warm body. “Easy there bud.”

“Pretty sure you’re going on about 72 hours without sleep and you’ve had, what? Three? Separate traumatic situations in that time? Not much of a surprise you’re about to crash hard.”

“I’m- I’m okay.”

“Yeah man, ‘course you are. But maybe we should get you some sleep, yeah?”

Mac’s head still felt like it was floating some way above the rest of his body, foggy and distant, but he was still able to feel himself frown as the suggestion stuck a chime wrong somewhere. “Can’t,” he managed. “House is in clean up.”

“Matty’s got it covered,” Jack said, sure and steady. “And while she’s getting everything here sorted, you can crash at my place.”

That did admittedly sound amazing, but Mac forced himself to mumble a negative and reclaim some of his own weight, shaking his head in a vain attempt at clearing out the cobwebs taking root. “No, I need to help Charlie,” he said stubbornly.

The arm Jack had around his shoulders turned to steel, not letting him move away. “Charlie is doing just fine. He knows what he’s doing and he’s not the one dead on his feet right now. It’s okay man, it’s over. You can hand the reins over to someone else for a bit.”

With his vision steadily clearing, Mac could finally make out Jack’s worried face at his shoulder, watching him closely for any sign he was about to take another nosedive. Beyond the concern though, it was clear as day that Jack was starting to flag just as badly as Mac was, with pale skin and deepening crow’s feet emphasising the slight squint he’d picked up to combat the dryness of his eyes. “You’ve not slept either,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

Jack huffed something that might have been a laugh if he’d had the energy for it. “True enough, but I also wasn’t arrested and I haven’t spent the last twenty hours working on defusing two bombs simultaneously.” He gestured vaguely around the wreck of Mac’s living room with his free hand as though to encompass everything that had happened. “I’m good to drive us both back to mine and then I’m planning on passing out until at least tomorrow. That plan sound good with you?”

Honestly, now that Mac was aware of his own fatigue, the exhaustion felt like a physical weight on his body and the very thought of handing over his safety to Jack and drifting off for a couple of hours sounded like heaven, but he knew his job. Once an EOD tech, always an EOD tech, and there was still a lot of explosive material in his house that needed dealing with before anyone in a mile’s radius would be safe. He had work to do.

The sentiment must have shown on his face, because Jack went right back to frowning. “No, man, cut that out. Even if there wasn’t a perfectly capable bomb tech right over there, you’re in no state to be handling explosives. You’re shaking.”

Mac glanced at his own hands to confirm that yes, his whole body was indeed wracked by fine tremors that he couldn’t seem to stop. That… didn’t seem right. Since joining the army he’d had countless sleepless nights, both intentional and unavoidable, and while he knew he must be getting close to his limit of endurance, he was usually steady handed. Sort of an occupational requirement, really.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmured to himself, still looking at his trembling fingers.

With a heavy sigh, Jack tugged on him until he was pushed, unresisting, onto one of the bar stools and propped up by Jack’s warm palms on both of his shoulders. “What’s wrong is that you’ve been running on nothing but adrenaline and coffee for two whole days. Just ‘cause you’ve not been dodging bullets doesn’t mean you haven’t been going through the wringer. You’re exhausted. That’s all it is, bud, promise.”

Well, if Jack promised then Mac would believe him. Jack would never lie to him and he always seemed to know Mac’s hurts even before the man himself did. Something about it still didn’t sit right with him though. “Was dodging bullets,” he corrected, slightly petulantly, as he remembered handcuffs around his wrists and the desperation of trying to find a solution using nothing but a bullet and a ballpoint pen.

One of Jack’s hands drifted up his shoulder to cup the back of his head comfortingly in a move that Jack liked to use when he wanted to check Mac’s pulse without him knowing. “I’m okay,” he mumbled again in protest, but didn’t pull away.

“Yeah, I know you are. You’re pretty out of it though bud. Reckon you’re not going to remember this conversation tomorrow, huh?”

That was probably a fair assessment, honestly. With no witty retort lined up and thoroughly lacking the energy to search for one, Mac just hummed agreeably, blinking at him as his vision went wobbly again.

Jack sighed. “Okay, I’m calling it. I know you want to help out here, but you need rest and you’re not going to get it while there’s a Phoenix clean-up op happening in your living room. And since I’m not letting you out of my sight just yet, you’re coming home with me, yes? Good.”

He finally broke his attention off from Mac to cast a glance around the room at large and caught Matty’s eyes, gesturing to his semi-conscious partner with a small head tilt. “I’m taking this one home.” He didn’t leave any room in his tone for argument, but softened it by adding, “If you need us, call me.”

Thankfully, as much as Matty might be a hardass when her job needed her to be, she was also one of the most observant people Jack had ever met. Her eyes took them both in with a single look and recognised the exhaustion staring back at her. She nodded with a soft smile. “Take as long as you need. We’ve got this.”

He spared enough time to shoot her a deeply grateful look before his entire attention turned back to Mac, who appeared to have been trying unsuccessfully to use the brief pause to rally himself. Unfortunately for him, he was long since out of any reserves to draw off; the best his attempts got him was some slightly more aggressive blinking.

“Okay hoss, think you can stand up for me?” From the way Jack was having to keep him steady, it was obvious that Mac’s balance had completely gone to shit, but he obediently pushed himself upright and managed to at least keep his knees locked to take his weight. “Alright man, you’re doing great. Let’s get outside and get you sitting down again, yeah?”

Getting Mac outside and into the car turned out to be an exercise in extreme patience. Out of it as he was, he seemed to consistently forget where they were going and why, and made several attempts to turn himself around to go and help Charlie even though he could not more obviously be beyond that particular task. Each time Jack would nudge him back in the right direction with a soft push and a string of gentle words that seemed to more or less do the trick. By the time Mac was carefully folding himself into the passenger seat, the kid was scarcely still conscious.

“That’s right, you just sit there and let Jack get you home, yeah?”

That Mac didn’t even groan in protest at Jack referring to himself in third person said a lot for his mental state. Chuckling to himself, Jack rounded the car and nodded at Bozer who had appeared at the front door to see them off.

“I’ll get the house sorted as soon as I can,” he promised. “Make sure everything’s nice and clean when he gets back.”

“Appreciate that. But make sure you get some rest yourself, okay?” He said sternly, sending him a steady look. “Today’s been a long day for everyone, you included.”

“We’re good Jack. Matty will take good care of me and Riley. You just worry about Mac.”

Jack snorted, momentarily letting his bone-deep exhaustion show on his face. “As if I ever do anything else.”

Mac was thoroughly dead to the world when Jack slid into the driver’s seat beside him, his head tilted awkwardly against the window and his arms wrapped tight around his middle. It looked wildly uncomfortable, but the journey was only short and now that he was actually out for the count, Jack was loath to disturb him until he had to. Instead, he jammed his keys in the ignition and headed for home without another word.

Tired as he was, Jack drove more carefully than he was usually of a mind to and as a result ended up taking a full half-hour to make it to his apartment. Mac didn’t so much as stir the entire time. If it hadn’t been for his breath fogging against the glass of the window, Jack might have resorted to feeling for the pulse in his wrist just to be certain that he really was still there, still in one piece. After everything he’d been through in the last three days, the fact that the worst physical damage he would have to deal with would be a few scrapes and a hefty dose of exhaustion was something of a miracle - and Jack would still trade almost anything for the chance to go back and spare him of all of it. Mac had never deserved the shit that got thrown at him day in and day out, but it rarely came so thick and fast.

And physical condition aside, Jack knew that Mac wasn’t getting away from any of it without some new mental baggage.

But that was a problem for tomorrow, at the earliest. Right now all he had to worry about was getting 6 foot of mostly-catatonic secret agent up several flights of stairs, preferably without drawing any attention. Easy.

Mac did make a valiant attempt at consciousness after a few gentle shakes from Jack, but it was clear the window of opportunity for his ability to hold his own weight had closed some time ago. In the end, it was left to Jack to duck under his shoulder and do his best to balance them both as they hobbled unsteadily up the fire escape. The lobby would have granted them an elevator, but with them both on their last legs, Jack didn’t want the attention.

No doubt they must have looked comical - or perhaps just drunk - but they made it in the end, and without anyone falling down the stairs to boot. Jack was going to count that as a win.

“Mac, you still with me brother?”

There was a vaguely attentive hum. Mac’s eyes didn’t open.

“You happy to share the bed or are you gonna make me sleep on the couch?”

Another hum that Jack chose to take as ambivalence. In truth the question was somewhat redundant - the pair of them had shared far closer quarters than a king-sized bed before, and Mac would never turf Jack out of his own room, especially when he was just as desperately in need of rest. Asking was more of a formality than anything.

There was a second brief deliberation when Jack managed to get them both into the bedroom as he tried to weigh up the chances of him being able to bully Mac into changing into some borrowed sleepwear. In the end, he figured it wasn’t worth the hassle and just calmly battled him out of his jeans and his dust-covered henley before tipping him beneath the covers. With his consciousness waning once more, Mac offered little more than a sleepy grumble as he burrowed down beneath the blanket and went still once more.

With a weary chuckle of genuine relief, Jack ran through his own preparations as quickly as his tired body was capable of before finally, finally folding himself into the other side of the bed. After everything, the sensation was heavenly.

There was a long stretch of motionless silence, broken only by their steady breathing, and Jack felt the fiercely alert, wary section of his brain finally start to cede control to the comforting embrace of sleep. It was over; Mac was safe, the bomb was defused, no one was in prison, and Cage would be just fine after a bit of recovery time. Jack was free to let his guard down at long last.

It wasn’t an easy task. For the next five minutes he struggled with slipping into light dozes that broke off suddenly when his adrenaline spiked, bracing himself against some new danger. He knew that he needed the rest and for once it was legitimately safe to do so, but he had too many years of forcing his body through every possible hardship for it to give up the fight so easily.

Then, as he always managed to do, Mac provided the solution. After the fifth or so time Jack jolted awake, Mac let out a low, displeased huff and wriggled until he was able to reach out a hand and wrap long fingers around Jack’s wrist in a gentle reassurance of his presence. He didn’t even look as though he was awake as he did it - he’d just sensed that Jack needed his help, and had offered it without thought. Lost in his own exhaustion, Jack thought it was almost poetic.

Not that he would know, of course.

Safe at long last, and tangibly aware of Mac’s steady presence at his side, Jack finally let himself sleep.

#i'm sure there were a lot of fics exactly like this when those episodes came out #but im new #let me indulge #macgyver #mac #jack dalton #exhaustion #god i miss jack so much you guys #respect to eads' choices but the show is just not as good without him #still shouldnt have been cancelled though #fuck that

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lilibetbombshell · 3 years ago

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BOOK REVIEW: "IRON WIDOW" (IRON WIDOW #1)

BY: XIRAN JAY ZHAO

(ARC Edition)

COMING TOMORROW 09.21.2021!!!

RATING: 5/5 STARS

I was so excited when I read the premise for this book. I thought to myself, “Pacific Rim meets The Handmaid’s Tale? I. Am. Here. For. It!”

And then I opened it up and read Xiran Jay Zhao’s author’s notes at the beginning of my ARC edition and my eyes widened in surprise at the actual premise of this wild, raw, untamed beast of a book… because I realized what this book actually is wasn’t something that could be tidied up and slotted neatly into a bookseller’s constricting summary box: it’s Pacific Rim meets The Handmaid’s Tale meets Chinese gongdou dramas meets the real-life Empress Regnant Wu (the only legitimate female sovereign China ever had) reimagined as a teenage peasant-girl (with a thirst for revenge) turned into a mecha-pilot who seethes at the patriarchy and the way in which women are automatically slotted into place from birth and never given any other options in life and decides NOPE.

Throw that all into a bottle, shake it up, open it, and what you get is the best sci-fi book I think I’ve ever read. The best book shock I’ve ever had. The most blood lust I’ve ever tasted. The best war cry I’ve ever heard. The best blood bath I’ve ever read. The biggest rallying call I’ve ever seen. The sweetest apathy that made me come apart at the seams. The most vengeful hatred I’ve witnessed sharpened to a razor’s edge.

I couldn’t stop reading. I ate through my dinner. I noted passage after passage until I was so swept away by it all I started forgetting to take notes because I was sunk too deep into this futuristic, otherworldly China where one teenage girl who has nothing to lose herself but cares fiercely and violently about so many other things, one man who loves her and is open-minded and educated enough to know that the status quo is wrong and is willing to stand beside her no matter what, and another man who never stood a chance in the world they were born in but is sick of the system. Their culture, their whole world, is built on teams of two. But, between these three people who all can see outside this paradigm, they all acknowledge and accept this world and its conventions are not who they are and it is not meant for them. They were not meant to be slotted into tidy little boxes, just like this book was not meant to be summarized into a limited character count.

This book is distributed in part by Penguin Teen, but I’m telling you: if you think this is just some YA sci-fi book, you’re abso-friggin-lutely wrong. This book is one of those books you NEED to read. It’s an IMPORTANT book. I won’t lie: It’s target audience is very obviously women in their teens and twenties, but I highly encourage women of all ages and ESPECIALLY men to read this book. Listen to the testimony of this book. Listen to its voice. Its pain. Its drive. Its passion. Its motivation. Its anger. Its thirst. Really listen to it and maybe you’ll learn some things about women you never understood before; because, believe me, I felt completely in sync with Wu Zetian every step of the way through this book.

The action scenes in this book are written beautifully and brutally at the same time. The plot is gracefully and carefully mapped out. The science is explained and makes sense when mixed in with the traditional Chinese beliefs regarding qi. The writing is impassioned, driven, and as impactful as the message of the book.

Wu Zetian’s voice, as a character, is probably the best I’ve read in years. She rings clear as a bell and as blunt as a sledgehammer, which is something so refreshing I wanted to jump in the book and volunteer to be her PA because I appreciate people who tell it like it is (and if you don’t like it too bad). Yizhi is a well-educated, strategic, well-connected, rich, sweet, badass cinnamon roll… and his love and dedication for Wu Zetian really threads through this whole book and helps quilt it together. Li Shimin is… a beautiful tragedy. Born into a world that he never stood a chance in and slotted into a system that was always going to work against him, his story is heartbreaking, but the way in which Wu Zetian and he grow to care for one another and take a stand together is glorious. And their partnership with Yizhi shows that a triangle is definitely the stronger shape.

This book does end on a cliffhanger, being as it is the first in a series, but it’s not a cliffhanger without a purpose. That’s all I can say.

In the end, what I will say is this: When I finished this book, it was midnight here in California. All over America, women are fighting for their reproductive rights because men still think they have a say in what we do with our bodies. In Afghanistan, females are back to being banned from receiving an education once more because men say so. In some parts of the world, girls too young to read this book (and some that would never be allowed to anyway) are being slotted into the places they’ll be expected to stay in for the rest of their lives because men say so. When I finished this book, somewhere in the world there was likely another child bride being taken because men say so. And I was FURIOUS. This book made me want to go out and smash the patriarchy, because Wu Zetian is right: no more.

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elyvorg · 4 years ago

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Here’s an AU with some delicious potential: what if Kokichi had chosen Shuichi for his plan, rather than Kaito?

And, no, despite Kokichi’s decision being the one initial difference in this AU, this really doesn’t significantly change anything for Kokichi himself. He still explains his plan to someone and then ends up just as dead. This is not about him.

Rather, as my illustration suggests, this AU would really be about Kaito, and what’d happen if he were in Shuichi’s position for the events of trial 5. I don’t quite have the focus necessary to write this as a full-on fic, but instead, how about a nice lengthy outline of how this story might unfold?

Daily Life

- The initial point-of-no-return at which Kokichi finalised his decision to use Kaito in his plan in canon was after his mastermind reveal, as he captured Kaito with an Exisal. So in this version of events, he’d capture Shuichi instead.

- Kaito would still get himself knocked out by one of Kokichi’s Exisals, mind you. This might happen exactly like it did in canon out of general anger at Kokichi, before Kokichi then brushes Kaito’s unconscious body aside and grabs Shuichi instead. Alternatively, Kokichi could grab Shuichi first, and so Kaito gets himself knocked out in a desperately reckless effort to save him.

- As Shuichi is carried away, still conscious but completely powerless in the grip of totally-the-evil-mastermind’s Exisal, worrying about Kaito and despairing over the outside world he just saw, he kind of just shuts down in defeat. Like, literally, to the point that his protagonist status shuts off. (At least, if we want to imagine this AU happening just like the game.)

- …And the protagonist status switches back on as Kaito as he regains consciousness. He’s immediately panicking over Shuichi being gone, blaming himself and feeling like he’s failed Shuichi yet again. (Given this, I think I prefer the option where Kaito gets knocked out after Shuichi gets grabbed, so that his very first thoughts as the protagonist the second he regains consciousness are worrying about Shuichi.)

- also the world’s ended apparently and that’s probably something he should be freaking out about too, but the whole Shuichi situation is much more immediately urgent and easier to wrap his head around, so he’s focusing on that

- Maki manages to convince him not to immediately go recklessly charging after Kokichi. Everyone’s exhausted and mentally drained, and Kaito’s injured on top of that (not to mention sick, she thinks, not that she voices that because she knows he’ll deny it). Right now they just need to try and get some sleep.

- Which, of course, is something Kaito’s been sick enough to be barely capable of for like the past week. He spends the whole night worrying ferociously about Shuichi and trying to think up some kind of plan to rescue him… but he ultimately accepts that he has no idea what he’s doing and he’s best off getting the others’ input on this, especially Maki’s.

- He also has plenty of time during the night to actually freak out about the end of the world, and in true Kaito fashion (and exactly like he did in canon), he copes with it by clinging to a completely baseless hope that maybe the world just hasn’t ended. What they saw out there could just be a huge elaborate lie, somehow? That’s the only way this situation wouldn’t be as unbearably awful as it seems – it’s the only way they’d have a reason to not give up – so Kaito’s sticking with that thought.

- And if that is the case, then he has absolutely no clue how to prove that – but Shuichi would be able to, with his awesome detective skills. That’s all the more reason they need to rescue him as soon as possible, then!

- The next morning, Kaito and Maki are already up and about without needing anyone else to prompt them. Both of them, for rather different reasons, are able to not let the despair of the outside world stop them from focusing on the obvious most important task of rescuing Shuichi.

- Since Kaito’s up, however, he also wants to get the others on board with this, too. He doesn’t like the idea of all of them moping around in despair, not when it’s possible (he has no idea how, but it is, he’s definitely not just baselessly clinging to this in order to cope!) that things aren’t as bad as they seem. And if he can get them focused on helping him rescue Shuichi, that’ll be a nice distraction for them.

- So Kaito drags everyone to a breakfast briefing that same morning, meaning that the killing game hasn’t gotten boring at all. Which means that Tsumugi doesn’t need to make a Flashback Light to spice things up again. Who needs artificial motivation from that when Kaito’s giving them real motivation? So there’s no Hope’s Peak nonsense at all in this version of events.

- Kaito’s pep talk manages to convince Himiko and Keebo (and Tsumugi’s act) that maybe things are better than they seem and that they’ll need Shuichi if they’re going to prove this. They all band together for a Shuichi Rescue Operation that looks a lot like the Kaito rescue operation from an alternate universe where Kaito was captured instead.

- Unfortunately, Himiko, Keebo and Tsumugi didn’t have the presence of mind to charge their Electrohammers last night. Kaito and Maki did, but they’re still only half-charged by now anyway, so it looks like the Shuichi Rescue Operation will have to wait until the next morning for the best chance of success.

- Maki is still feeling somewhat like murdering Kokichi is their best option because he’s supposedly the mastermind. However, she’s a lot less determined to do so when she hasn’t been brainwashed by any of the hope-must-defeat-despair bullshit from the Flashback Light. That plus Kaito being able to pick up on her intentions and talk her down from it means that, ultimately, she decides against it. Letting Kaito run around did exactly the opposite of making the killing game start up again – funny, that.

- While they’re waiting, for the sake of feeling like he’s doing something and not just wasting his very-limited time, and because he’s still just incredibly worried, Kaito goes to the hangar in the hopes of checking on and maybe being able to talk to Shuichi.

- (He still kind of feels like a huge failure about letting Shuichi get captured in the first place and not even being able to rescue him without everyone else’s help. But then again, there’s still something Kaito can do for him, right? Anyone, even a hero as awesome as Shuichi, would be feeling lost and needing some encouragement after what they all saw outside, and Kaito can at least do that for him, if nothing else. Maybe heroes aren’t completely invincible after all.)

- Shuichi has indeed just been listlessly in despair since he found himself in the hangar’s bathroom. But hearing Kaito’s voice calling out to him, seeing that familiar bright grin, having Kaito tell him with what sounds like complete conviction that the outside world might just not be destroyed, and you’re the one who can prove it, and that’s why we’re all coming to rescue you tomorrow morning… that really, really helps perk Shuichi up again. Kaito is the best luminary.

- Several other parts of that conversation go roughly as they do when they’re on opposite sides of that window. Kaito’s health is fine of course why is Shuichi even asking; and meanwhile Shuichi bringing up Gonta just prompts Kaito to praise Shuichi and tell him even more how awesome he is and how everyone’s relying on him. They are friends.

- One way or another, Kokichi has got wind of the fact that everyone’s coming to rescue Shuichi the next morning, meaning that tonight is the last chance he realistically has for his plan to go down. So, even though Maki does not enter the hangar to try to murder Kokichi and nobody gets shot with any poisoned arrows, Kokichi tells Shuichi the plan and gets him to carry it out that night.

- (Honestly, it’s not completely certain whether Shuichi would agree to the plan given that he has none of the desperate-to-be-a-hero motives that Kaito did. That’s got to be why Kokichi chose Kaito in canon despite the million other reasons why that version of the plan would obviously fail. But for the sake of making this AU an interesting story, let’s assume Shuichi goes through with it. It was definitely always possible that he would.)

- So, the next morning, with Kaito rallying everyone into high spirits as they all charge into the hangar to rescue Shuichi��

- …Kaito is abruptly confronted with a familiar pinstriped sleeve sticking out of the hydraulic press amidst an enormous pool of blood.

Deadly Life

- Everyone else, even Maki, immediately assumes that Kokichi murdered Shuichi. They were all relying on Shuichi to solve the mystery and properly end their reasons to despair; of course Kokichi, the evil sadistic mastermind who enjoys their suffering, would have killed him horribly like this before they could rescue him, all to make them suffer even more. It just makes sense. Plus, Kokichi’s the mastermind and the killing game’s still going, so how could he be the one who’s dead?

- Kaito is having none of it. Shuichi’s gotta still be alive somehow. It’s Shuichi! He’s bound to have pulled off some super-clever trick to escape this and already secretly be in the process of figuring out the killing game and ending it all, right? That’s exactly what Shuichi’s always been good at! Don’t they all want to believe in Shuichi like this?

- Someone points out that if Shuichi is alive, then wouldn’t that mean he’s probably the one who killed Kokichi? And nope, Kaito’s also not having any of that. Shuichi’s obviously not the type to kill anyone; can’t they all see that!? (But then again, Kaede and Kirumi and Gonta weren’t either, and yet, in an attempt to save everyone… And Shuichi’s always cared about saving everyone, hasn’t he?)

- (But no, that still can’t be true, because if it were that’d mean Kaito would have to watch Shuichi being executed and still have failed to protect him, and NOPE nope nope. Shuichi is somehow alive and also not the blackened, that’s definitely possible, it has to be.)

- Also let me please stop and remind everyone that Shuichi is not at all dead and is hiding inside the red Exisal in the hangar, hearing the pain Kaito is in over this and feeling thoroughly responsible. Still, it lifts his spirits at least a little to hear that Kaito really does want to believe in him this much!

- Maki tries to tell Kaito that he’s behaving exactly how he was in Gonta’s trial and that simply believing in something won’t get him anywhere. Kaito probably responds to this by getting more riled up and angry, which only kind of proves her point. And he knows that’s what he’s doing, but he can’t stop himself.

- (Shuichi can’t be dead. All of Kaito’s words and encouragement to him would mean nothing if Shuichi just died anyway because Kaito was still too useless to save him. He’d be nothing but a failure as a hero, just like Gonta’s trial had already proven he was, except worse. Kaito can’t have failed Shuichi this badly. He just can’t.)

- Himiko, Keebo and Tsumugi start to comment because of all this that maybe Kaito really is just too naïve to accept the truth; maybe they should never have listened to him trying to insist that the outside world isn’t dead when they saw it with their own eyes. Maybe there really is nothing at all to hope for in this situation at all.

- This does not help Kaito’s mood.

- Kaito ends up snapping that, fine, if they’re all just gonna give up on Shuichi like that, then he’s gonna do this investigation himself and prove that he’s right about this, dammit!

- Kaito begins a very pointedly determined investigation – look, guys, he’s not giving up on Shuichi – but… who the hell is he trying to kid? He’s always been terrible at these things. Shuichi was the one who could do all of this, could look at all these random clues and somehow just know what everything meant and piece it all together like magic. Not Kaito.

- (which also gets him caught up in thinking about what if Shuichi really is gone – not only does that mean Kaito’s a horrible failure, but it also means everyone else is screwed and never going to get out of here because they need Shuichi for things like this)

- (but no he’s not thinking about that; he’s not worrying about anything, because Shuichi’s definitely alive and spotless and he’s going to prove it)

- After Kaito’s spent several minutes wandering around the hangar staring fervently at things and not really taking any of it in (because his mind’s too caught up in warring with himself over how dead Shuichi definitely isn’t to focus properly), Maki approaches him.

- (Maki is able to be a lot more level-headed and rational here than she is at this point in canon, because she didn’t break into the hangar and accidentally murder someone she cares about last night.)

- Awkwardly, without looking Kaito in the eye, she mentions that if he wants an investigation partner, she’s here.

- Kaito can’t help but stare at her kind of bitterly. He thought she was perfectly willing to give up on Shuichi and assume he’s dead, wasn’t she?

- Maki still thinks that’s the most likely scenario, but… Kaito’s right. She wants to believe Shuichi could still be alive. So maybe, if she investigates with Kaito, he can help her find a way to believe that it could be possible after all.

- Something within Kaito hears he can help her and latches onto it without another thought. He manages a grin from somewhere, and with a “Why didn’t you say so sooner, Maki Roll!?”, they’re investigating together.

- Maki is, of course, doing the majority of the observations and deductions, while Kaito is mostly just cheering her on and praising her (specifically whenever her observations manage to have a vaguely positive outlook about Shuichi’s possible survival). There’s something comfortingly familiar about it all.

- On Maki’s end… she still isn’t actually sure if she can truly believe Shuichi is alive. That’s not really why she approached Kaito. She did it because she couldn’t stand seeing how much he’s suffering and how alone he feels with it.

- Really, she’s grimly expecting this whole mess will end with Kaito being forced to face the agonising truth that Shuichi really is gone – but she can’t bear the thought of him having to face that alone. She’s hoping that being there with him during the investigation and trial might mean he’ll be more willing to accept her support when the time comes.

- Obviously she can’t tell him that, though. He’s in a fragile and volatile enough state as it is, and she saw what he got like towards the end of Gonta’s trial. Telling him that she’s trying to help him at all is a bad move, never mind that she’s specifically trying to help him accept the truth that he’s still refusing to acknowledge could even be true.

- So, really, the only reason Maki’s saying she wants to believe in Shuichi being alive is because she knows it’s the only way she can approach Kaito right now without him pushing her away.

- Even so… it’s not a lie. Maki does want to believe Shuichi is alive. She doesn’t want to lose another friend. She’d never have bothered to say it if not to get Kaito to listen to her, because what she wants has never mattered next to the uncaring reality she’s always been stuck in, but… it’s true.

- And… it really does matter to Kaito, doesn’t it? Not only that he wants Shuichi to be alive, but also – he’s grinning at her and encouraging her every time she observes that something doesn’t necessarily indicate Shuichi’s dead, because her wanting Shuichi to be alive matters to him. And she can tell it’s not just in the sense of having someone agree with his desperate denial, either. Kaito really cares about the fact that she’s not giving up.

- So, while she’s determined to be there for Kaito if the worst does come to pass… maybe Maki really won’t give up on Shuichi, not just yet.

- It’s not exactly the reason she actually turned to him, but Kaito is helping her believe that the impossible could be possible all the same. He’s so good at that. It really would be nice if she could see Shuichi again and they could train together like before, all three of them, wouldn’t it?

- It’d hurt so bad if she turned out to be wrong, but – it’d hurt Kaito even more, and yet he’s still willing to take that risk. To him, that’s infinitely better than just giving up and accepting defeat from the start. Maybe it does make some kind of sense, in that ridiculous, reckless Kaito way, for her to hold onto what she wants and fight for it despite the whole world being against her.

- During the investigation, Kaito picks up a small handful of Truth Bullets based on Maki’s observations. But also, towards the end, despite still not having found anything conclusive pointing to Shuichi being alive, Kaito reaffirms in his head how definitely alive he is anyway and gains a final Truth Bullet called “Shuichi’s Survival”. It’s very clearly not actually based in any evidence and is just fuelled by Kaito’s desperate insistence that this is totally the truth, with a description something like, “Shuichi is alive somehow. He’s just gotta be.”

- Monokuma announces that the trial’s about to start and makes a pointed comment about how everyone has to be there. Maki observes that he’s talking about the unidentified survivor, and Kaito’s spirits lift. Shuichi’ll be there in the trial! Of course he will; why did Kaito never think of that before!? He’ll help everyone figure out this whole mess!

- (But… why isn’t Shuichi already showing up to help them, if he’s alive? That’s what he’d obviously do. Kokichi hiding from them makes perfect sense, but, not…)

- (But no, it’s fine. Shuichi’s gotta be alive and Kaito’s not gonna think about anything else.)

Class Trial

- Shuichi still isn’t there in the trial. Monokuma is hiding him behind the scenes, spouting some nonsense about a “unique opportunity” to keep things mysterious. Shuichi’s podium contains a death portrait with a question mark on it, which Kaito finds to be in incredibly bad taste when Monokuma knows full well that Shuichi is obviously alive, dammit.

- Things feel weird and wrong and kind of awkwardly aimless without Shuichi there to lead the discussion and know how to solve things. Still, Kaito does his best to keep everyone on the same page like he always does, and Maki isn’t doing a bad job at all of filling the gap left by Shuichi in terms of being the most logical voice in the room.

- In every single Nonstop Debate, “Shuichi’s Survival” is one of the available Truth Bullets. It is never the correct answer, of course – but if you fire it anyway, there’s specific failure dialogue for it in which Kaito desperately baselessly insists Shuichi must be alive somehow. The others – even sometimes Maki – respond in a way that indicates they’re gradually losing faith in Kaito’s ability to approach this rationally, which of course takes a chunk out of his Influence gauge.

The Exisal

- After a few minutes of inconclusive discussion over whether Shuichi’s sleeve being in the press proves he’s under there or not, Monokuma realises they aren’t getting anywhere interesting and decides to bring out the survivor to spice things up.

- Kaito is relieved that finally they’re gonna see Shuichi again and this trial can get back to feeling like normal. He definitely isn’t even a little bit terrified of any other possibility, because there is no other possibility.

- In walks not a person but an Exisal, and Kaito marvels that, man, Shuichi’s really going for style points here, huh—

- —and then everything falls apart as the Exisal speaks, taunting them in what is very unmistakably Kokichi’s voice.

- Kokichi is alive. And if that’s the case, then, doesn’t that mean… the victim has to be…?

- (And why does Kokichi have the gall to taunt them while referencing a Frank Sinatra song that Kaito happens to like? Geez, he can’t even sing it right, the annoying moron.)

- Kaito furiously demands for Kokichi to show his face and stop hiding like a coward (like a murderer, like the person who murdered Shuichi—)

- (…In amongst his desperate totally-not-deflecting fury, though, Kaito can’t help but also notice that there’s something weird about Kokichi here. Well, Kokichi’s always weird, but something about this is weird for Kokichi.)

- Exisal Kokichi claims that he can’t open the cockpit because “that horrible assassin over there” would kill him if he did. Scowling at hearing Maki called that, Kaito is sure she wouldn’t – but it does kinda make sense that Kokichi might assume she would and want to protect himself. He is the mastermind, after all. (Isn’t he?) Hiding like this is the kind of cowardly thing that fits Kokichi – and the mastermind – perfectly well. (That’s not the weird part, but something’s still definitely weird.)

- Wait, but… if he won’t show his face, they don’t know that it’s really Kokichi, right? Then maybe…! – but someone else points out that, even so, it’s obviously his voice coming from the Exisal.

- Kaito is stumped for a moment, until he suggests, utterly grasping at straws, that maybe… maybe the Exisal has like a voice changer or something???

- At this, Monokuma suddenly pipes up to confirm that, actually, Kaito is right on the money, the Exisals do in fact have voice changers!

- Everyone is rather bewildered that Monokuma would just offer that suspiciously-convenient information up so readily… but then again, Monokuma never lies about information for a case. So it must be true, then?

- Exisal Kokichi sighs and switches to Exisal Shuichi for a single line to tell them that, true, the Exisal does have a voice changer, but that alone isn’t enough evidence to prove or disprove anything about who’s inside it. Then he switches back to Kokichi and seems very gleeful about everyone’s reactions to hearing Shuichi’s voice – especially Kaito’s.

- Someone looks at Kaito and asks, even though he was right about the voice changer, is he really going to try and suggest that Shuichi is somehow in there and just pretending to be Kokichi for some reason?

- It does make way more sense that this was just Kokichi taking the opportunity to cruelly mess with them – but still. (And if it is Shuichi in there, why would he be deceiving them like this?)

- Kaito settles on the stance of “I dunno, I’m just saying it’s possible that Shuichi’s still alive, okay!?” because hell if he has any idea how to actually prove anything from this, but it’s something that he can hold onto.

- With that – with everyone else assuming this is still just Kaito being in denial – they all drop the voice changer subject, and Exisal Shuichi is never heard from again.

The video

- Apparently quite eager to move on from talking about the voice changer, Exisal Kokichi brings out the video to prove that it’s definitely him in here anyway.

- Kaito is, uh. Not Happy. at seeing the moment Shuichi was apparently horribly crushed to death. But even this, and even Exisal Kokichi asserting that the video couldn’t have been edited, is still no match for Kaito’s powers of desperate baseless optimism and never giving up no matter how impossible things seem.

- In the debate about the video, shooting “Shuichi’s Survival” gets not just failure dialogue but an entire back route in which Exisal Kokichi taunts Kaito about his denial and how gruesomely Shuichi was killed. This is much like the back route in canon, except instead of taunting that it’s hard to believe a “smug idiot like Kaito” got squished, Exisal Kokichi says it’s hard to believe that happened to an “invincible hero like Shuichi”. Oops, looks like he wasn’t so invincible after all! (Shuichi was probably rather bewildered when he saw himself described like this in the script.)

- (this version of the back route also has no nonsense like Kaito internally claiming his emotional reaction to this is a lie, because it sure freaking isn’t (just like it made no sense for Shuichi’s to be either, grumble))

- Of course, the actual way through this debate is pointing out the press’s safety function. When the others conclude that this just means Shuichi was killed beforehand, Kaito argues that, sure he’s not moving and it’s too far away to tell if he’s breathing or not, but Shuichi doesn’t look dead in the video before the press descends!!!

- Maki informs him that there are any number of ways Kokichi could have killed Shuichi such that it didn’t leave a mark on his body that would be visible in that video. She shrinks a little at Kaito’s betrayed look at her when she points this out. She’s just saying that it would have been possible and so his argument doesn’t prove anything, that’s all.

- Meanwhile, Kaito still can’t stop being hung up on the fact that Kokichi’s acting weird. Not in the sense that showing a video that apparently proves him guilty is weird – or, well, that too – but there’s something else, something about the way he’s talking, that Kaito can’t quite put his finger on.

- (Shuichi’s people-understanding skills aren’t as sharp as Kaito’s, and so his acting skills aren’t either. He’s doing his best, but the fact is that he’s just not quite as good at pretending to be Kokichi as Kaito is – and even Kaito wasn’t perfect at it. Meanwhile, Kaito’s people-reading skills are top-notch, albeit in a very intuitive way that doesn’t have any conscious reasoning behind it. So, without realising it, he’s starting to pick up on the ways in which Shuichi’s acting is just a little bit off.)

The other suspects

- Kaito insists that they can’t just give up and assume Shuichi is dead this easily, so he keeps pushing them to think of other possibilities. One thing that’s at least a little worth discussing – not that Kaito’s super happy about this either but it’s better than the alternative – is whether one of the five of them could be a suspect.

- Like in canon, Himiko still wandered towards the hangar and had a brief chat with Shuichi, although nothing much came of it (no crossbow delivery request). Keebo went there later to try in vain to talk Kokichi down. And, of course, Kaito also visited the hangar to talk to Shuichi that afternoon. So there’s a slight chance that one of the three of them could be the culprit.

- Perhaps someone (definitely not Maki, and especially not Exisal Kokichi) suggests the idea that, of those three, if it really was one of them, isn’t Kaito actually the most likely to have killed Shuichi? He’d had that whole falling out with him – so maybe he was still so angry with Shuichi about Gonta’s trial that things got out of hand?

- Kaito is horrified that it could even cross anyone’s mind that he’d ever do that to Shuichi, that he’d ever even still be angry at him after he’d calmed down from the lashing out during Gonta’s trial that he never should have done.

- (And wait, did they all think he was still angry at Shuichi in the following days, and that was why he couldn’t face him? Is that what Shuichi thought was going on and why he didn’t ever try to talk to Kaito? Geez, Kaito really messed up so bad with that whole thing, didn’t he.)

- Kaito asserts that obviously he’d never hurt Shuichi – and besides, when he went to the hangar yesterday to talk to Shuichi, he made up with him! Things are good between them now! (Emphasis on the present tense, of course.)

- This is the first Maki’s heard of this – Kaito wasn’t exactly in the mood to mention it until now and she didn’t want to ask. She makes sure Kaito knows that she’s glad to hear that; Kaito confirms it with a grin and probably apologises for worrying her with the whole thing and definitely isn’t at all thinking about how little this will end up meaning if Shuichi is actually dead. (Though Maki is relieved that, if Shuichi does turn out to be dead, at least this’ll make things a bit less painful for Kaito than they would have been if he hadn’t made up with him at all.)

- Exisal Kokichi is probably pretty quiet during this whole discussion, because I kinda doubt Kokichi would have predicted this topic and scripted any lines for it, and Shuichi very much does not trust himself to convincingly ad-lib about this.

- Kaito glances at the silent Exisal and muses that wouldn’t Kokichi normally be spouting some of his usual bullshit about how you can’t trust anyone right now? He was quite happy to jump on the idea that Kaito could have been the culprit last case. Huh. Huh.

- (Or, alternatively, maybe Kokichi did script something for this. In that case, either Shuichi decides that no he is not reciting that bit because it’s not worth it to hurt Kaito even more, or he does recite it and instead Kaito picks up on Exisal Kokichi sounding slightly off yet again.)

- Ultimately, whoever half-heartedly accused Kaito drops it. They didn’t even really want to think he did it and just suggested it because, well, it was Kaito who insisted they try to think of other possibilities. But in the end, there just isn’t any evidence that anyone except Shuichi and Kokichi ever went into the hangar itself.

Kaito is (not) fine

- At some point during the trial, Kaito would definitely end up coughing up blood. It’s late enough into his illness that this’d be a pretty frequent occurrence by now, and in a class trial situation, he’s forced to spend hours around everyone else without any chance to quickly go cough his guts out where they can’t see. He’d hold out for as long as he could, but at some point he wouldn’t be able to any more.

- Everyone else reacts with frantic concern – they knew he was still sick; he should have been letting them help him! – which Kaito desperately tries to brush off. They’re in the middle of a trial, dammit; they don’t have time to be worrying about him right now! This isn’t a big deal; he can handle it!

- …And, to be fair, he can. He’s been in so much pain this whole time and just carrying on like it’s nothing, because he has to, especially right now. They really unfortunately don’t have time to be giving Kaito medical treatment when Monokuma refuses to let anyone leave their podiums until the trial’s over. So Kaito’s just going to casually continue the trial with flecks of blood all over his shirt like it’s nothing while stubbornly ignoring the worried looks everyone keeps giving him.

- Exisal Kokichi joins in with this conversation to taunt Kaito about how pathetic he is and how much he’s been hiding from everyone. Because this would very definitely be something Kokichi predicted and put in the script.

- Shuichi was probably rather alarmed when he saw the “here’s how to react to Kaito coughing up blood” section in the script last night. Part of him was hoping this was Kokichi exaggerating to mess with him, but, nope, he had to use it after all.

- Even so, seeing Kaito in so much pain, realising that he really has still been so sick this whole time, makes Shuichi desperately worried enough that it’s rather hard to put on the Kokichi act and pretend to be callously gleeful about the whole thing.

- And… Kaito notices. Even through his pain, he can tell that there’s something really obviously off about the way Kokichi’s taunting him. It’s not the words – the phrasing is still exactly like Kokichi. And of course it’s still technically Kokichi’s voice. But the intonation just sounds all wrong.

- This isn’t how Kokichi would say this stuff at all. Heck, it’s never sounded quite like him this entire time – but this time stands out even more than the rest. Kaito still can’t put his finger on why not; he just has a hunch.

- (The others haven’t noticed anything at all. Maybe they’re too busy worrying about him to see, or maybe they just aren’t as good at picking up on this kind of thing.)

- Kaito’s sure of it now. That’s not Kokichi in there.

- And if it’s not Kokichi, there’s only one person it could be…!

- In that instant, “Shuichi’s Survival” gets updated in the Monopad. The description of it now reads, “Shuichi’s definitely alive! It’s him inside that Exisal! I’m positive!”

- Kaito has no freaking clue how this could be possible, but that doesn’t matter, because he knows he’s onto something here. His hunches are never wrong.

- He hasn’t said a word about this to anyone else, though. No matter how much he knows he’s right, hunches aren’t evidence in a class trial. They wouldn’t listen; they’d just assume it’s baseless wishful thinking. Which, to be fair, it really kind of was up until now – but not any more.

- (The others don’t even seem to have noticed him having this revelation, either, probably because it happened while he was still doubled over in pain from his coughing fit and they were too focused on worrying about that.)

The truth

- Kaito almost tells them that he’s sure Shuichi is alive anyway, if only for Maki’s sake – he was trying to help her believe this, and surely at least she would trust his judgement?

- But he doesn’t quite yet. Something tells him he needs to figure this out better before he goes blurting anything out. It’s definitely Shuichi in there, but, never mind the how of it – why?

- If Shuichi’s in that Exisal, not only is he alive, but he wants them to think he’s Kokichi. He wants them to think that Kokichi killed him. Why the hell?

- And, wait, if Kokichi having killed Shuichi isn’t the truth (and Kaito finally genuinely believes that it isn’t and is no longer just desperately running away from that apparent fact), then, doesn’t that mean that Shuichi killed Kokichi?

- The only other option would be that Shuichi is trying to protect the real person who killed Kokichi – that might make some kind of sense – but Kaito’s also sure at this point in the trial that nobody else in the room is hiding anything.

- The only one who’s hiding something is Shuichi. The only one who makes any sense as the culprit in this case is Shuichi, and he’s trying to get away with it.

- At this point, Kaito is having an outwardly horrified enough reaction that Maki does notice that he’s realised something bad, and she asks him what’s wrong. (Completely oblivious to what he’s thinking about, she’s starting to worry that this is reaching the point where Kaito begins to face the painful reality that Shuichi really is gone.)

- Kaito brushes her off and insists it’s nothing important. His stomach just still hurts pretty bad, that’s all. (Which, to be fair, isn’t exactly a lie.)

- He can’t tell her yet; it doesn’t make sense yet.

- Shuichi would never be trying to get away with his crime and get everyone killed; that’s just not possible. The only reason he’d ever want to do that might be something like the reason Gonta had, but that’s not relevant now they’ve all seen the outside (which is still definitely not the truth) anyway.

- Hell, Shuichi wouldn’t even kill someone without a very, very good reason. Not even Kokichi, the mastermind, because he’d never want to repeat Kaede’s mistake.

- (Though, wait, if Kokichi’s really the victim and the game’s still going, is he even actually the mastermind? …Whatever; that doesn’t matter right now.)

- Kaede, Kirumi and Gonta all killed someone, too – but that never meant that Kaito was wrong to believe in them. They were still exactly the people he always knew they were. They only killed because they had reasons Kaito couldn’t have known at the time that made them genuinely believe they were doing it to save everyone.

- So that has to be why Shuichi’s doing this, too. Kaito has no idea how, but it has to be. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.

- The others were mistaken or misguided in their belief that this would save everyone, but… if anyone would ever be right about it, surely it’d be Shuichi? He’s always known what to do. He’s always known how to save everyone.

- Kaito believes in Shuichi, more than anything. Not just that he’s a good person even despite being a murderer, but that he’s an amazing hero who’s going to save them all. Kaito doesn’t have a clue why or how Shuichi pretending to be Kokichi and convincing them all Kokichi is the blackened is going to save everyone – but he doesn’t need to. If Shuichi wants this to happen, that’s what’s gotta happen.

- Everything makes sense now – at least, as much as Kaito needs it to – but he’s still not going to tell Maki what he’s realised. He can’t.

- (He won’t let Shuichi down again. Not this time.)

The lie

- During Kaito’s big internal epiphany, the others have been continuing the discussion, but they haven’t exactly been getting anywhere. There’s just so little to talk about.

- Exisal Kokichi has kept chipping in to taunt them about how ambiguous everything is; maybe he did it, maybe he didn’t, you idiots don’t have a clue! – and Kaito can tell now, now that he knows and is looking out for it, that every single word of this is clearly not the real Kokichi.

- Part of the reason the trial has ground to a halt is because Kaito’s been so quiet. Despite his lack of conclusive arguments, he’s still been one of the biggest driving forces of the discussion this whole time. So Maki prods him to speak up again, asking him what he’s been thinking about.

- (Some tiny part of her is hoping that he’s somehow figured out some impossible Kaito miracle that proves Shuichi really is alive. But… he hasn’t, has he? That was always too much to hope for. It makes far more sense that his silence is just because he can no longer deny the inescapable truth of Shuichi’s death and doesn’t know how to cope with it. So really, this is her trying to gently coax him into facing it at last.)

- With Kaito still silent, things suddenly shift into a Nonstop Debate. Everyone prompts Kaito to say something, explaining that they still haven’t been getting anywhere without him and asking if he has any more ideas. The debate rounds out with Exisal Kokichi, taunting that of course Kaito doesn’t have a clue; he needs to just face reality already, because there’s not a single shred of conclusive proof that Shuichi’s even alive!

- Both of those bolded statements are agree spots. The correct way through this debate is to take “Shuichi’s Survival”, turn it into a Lie Bullet, and fire “Shuichi’s Death” at Exisal Kokichi’s statement.

- There… there really isn’t, is there? Everyone’s been working so hard to try and prove it this whole time, but… they’ve found nothing. And he can’t think of a damn thing either, despite how badly he wants to believe it. Damn it… does that… does that really mean…?

- …It isn’t even that hard for Kaito to act out his reaction to finally accepting Shuichi’s death. We know he’s a good actor when he needs to be – and here, he’d be playing himself, in a state of mind that he’s been this close to genuinely falling into for the past several hours. His act is very convincing, and nobody else in the room is a good enough people-reader to see through it.

- Even Maki completely buys it. While she’s been trying to hope for a better outcome, this whole time she’s still been expecting that this is how things would end for Kaito. This is what she always assumed his long silence was about. Rather than question it, or try to be the one to encourage him not to give up, Maki just wants to support him through it.

- She reaches out to him, telling him that she’s so sorry, that she hates it too, that she’s here for him. Kaito just mumbles something about how they don’t have time to worry about him now when they still need to finish the trial.

- (Kaito’s not sure he could quite convincingly act out actively grieving for someone he knows isn’t actually dead, so he’s trying to make it look like he’s basically accepted it but is putting off the grieving part until the trial’s over. That’s something that a lot of people have been doing in this killing game, so it’s a pretty convincing lie to tell.)

- But there’s one person who doesn’t buy it: Shuichi. It’s not that he can tell that Kaito’s acting is fake – it’s that he can’t believe that Kaito would ever, ever just give up on him like this without seeing absolutely conclusive proof that he’s dead. It’s easier for Maki to accept that, because giving up is so instinctive to her that she doesn’t quite grasp how completely impossible it is for Kaito – but Shuichi is certain that Kaito never, ever would.

- So in this moment, it hits him all at once – Kaito knows. He’s putting on an act to help Shuichi succeed, even though he can’t possibly understand why Shuichi would even want them to get it wrong when that’d usually get them all killed. Kaito really does believe in him that much, huh?

- (did you know: they are FRIENDS.)

- Despite Kaito saying they need to finish the trial, there really isn’t much else left to do. Without being able to discuss the idea that Shuichi could be alive, what happened really does seem obvious. Kaito – the fake Kaito who’s accepted Shuichi’s death – still believes in everyone else enough to be sure that none of them would have ever wanted to kill Shuichi, so there’s only one possible culprit. Kokichi must have killed him to make them all suffer, just like they thought from the start.

- Possibly some of the others muse that it’s still weird that Kokichi being the culprit is so obvious an answer. In a quick ad-lib, Kaito claims that Kokichi figured they’d be so utterly lost without Shuichi that he wouldn’t even need to bother hiding his crime to get away with it. But Kokichi underestimated them! There’s still plenty they can do if they work together! He killed Shuichi to try and make them fall apart and suspect each other, but they’ll show him that they’re not gonna let that happen! Which still is very convincingly Kaito, trying to keep a positive outlook and encourage everyone else despite being the one in the most pain himself.

- It crosses Kaito’s mind, now that he’s no longer in desperate denial over Shuichi being possibly dead, that killing someone just to make everyone suffer doesn’t even really make sense to him as something Kokichi would do, actually – but of course he stays quiet about it. He sticks to some very convincing fake glares at the Exisal, knowing full well that he’s actually glaring at a Shuichi who is currently being the most awesome.

- There are probably scripted reactions to Kaito accepting that Kokichi totally killed Shuichi. Shuichi’s recital of them might just be off in such a way that Kaito starts to suspect that Shuichi has realised he knows. That’s okay, though, so long as they can both keep up the act for everyone else. Even though they can’t directly communicate at all, even though Kaito doesn’t even understand why Shuichi’s doing this, they’re a team.

The reveal

- Ultimately, despite Monokuma asking them more times than usual if they’re really sure they’re decided on the culprit, not much more of note happens before they go to the vote.

- Everyone is a little surprised to see that even Kokichi voted for himself. Except Kaito, who claims that Kokichi had just seen how they’d all beaten him and given up! …Which, of course, is not at all the reason Kaito is not surprised.

- They turn to Monokuma to wait for him to announce the blackened. This has to be it, right here – the moment Shuichi blows everyone away with whatever awesome plan he’s been fighting for this whole time.

- (…right?)

- After a longer-than-usual post-voting pause as Monokuma just stares at the still-silent and unmoving Exisal…

- “You’re absolutely right! The blackened in this case is Kokichi Oma!” – and Kaito’s heart stops—

- …only to start again a second later as he hears a gloriously familiar “No, that’s wrong!”

- Everyone stares in disbelief as Shuichi emerges from the Exisal. Except Kaito, who can’t help but blurt out “I knew it!” in triumphant relief, causing everyone else’s bewildered stares to shift from Shuichi to him.

- Shuichi, of course, isn’t bewildered at all. As his protagonist status switches back on, the first thought we hear from him for half a chapter is, Thank you for believing in me, Kaito… He goes on to recap – since the players weren’t in his head at the time – that the moment Kaito started lying was the moment he realised Kaito knew, because there was no way Kaito would ever have truly given up on him like that.

- Along with apologising for deceiving and hurting everyone, Shuichi immediately confirms that yes, he did kill Kokichi, and not to worry, none of them are going to be executed for this.

- Kaito’s first proper words to Shuichi are that, geez don’t scare him like that again, and man he is gonna need one hell of an explanation for all this – but damn, whatever Shuichi just did, that was awesome. Nothing less from his sidekick!

- Maki puts in that, while she really needs to hear an explanation too – including from Kaito for that matter… she’s glad Shuichi’s alive. Kaito beams at her. He’s so proud of her for trying to believe in it the whole time. They are friends.

- So Shuichi goes into a lengthy explanation of the hows and whys of the plan, interspersed with Kaito explaining why he hid the fact that he’d figured it out.

- Shuichi is generally very modest about his part in the plan; after all, Kokichi thought up the whole thing and even gave him this script to follow, so Shuichi was basically just following instructions the whole time.

- Kaito’s having none of that. Sure, it was Kokichi’s plan, which Kaito begrudgingly admits was pretty clever, but Kokichi got himself killed and took the coward’s way out before it’d even really begun to unfold. Shuichi was the one who took on the burden and did all the hardest parts, all by himself. Kaito can’t even imagine how tough it must have been to deceive them all and act like Kokichi that whole time, knowing that if he messed up, he’d end up being executed – or worse, everyone else would.

- Shuichi doesn’t think he even did that good of a job at it, though – after all, Kaito saw through it, didn’t he? It’s only because Kaito believed in him that things still worked out. And Kaito’s act, once he started putting it on, was way better and more convincing, so… (He trails off there, realising that what he was about to say is… not exactly a compliment in some ways.)

- Picking up on what Shuichi almost said, Kaito comments that nah, no way Kokichi would have picked him for the plan. Maybe he could have put on that act too (not that Kaito really wants to think about what that would have been like, never mind the murder part), but with Shuichi there like normal in the trial, he’d have been able to unravel the whole thing in no time! Sure, Kokichi’s plan was pretty clever – but the smartest thing he did was realise how amazing Shuichi was and rope him into it rather than anybody else.

To be continued…?

- With the explanations over and Monokuma squirming in his seat, it becomes clear that he really does have no right to execute anyone. Nobody dies at the end of this trial!

- And I mean nobody. I know what you’re thinking – Kaito should be doomed to die here from his illness anyway – but, remember back in the Daily Life? How the group didn’t mope around in despair for a whole day thanks to Kaito being up and about? That means this entire case and trial happened one day sooner than it did in canon. Which wouldn’t usually affect anything – except it makes all the difference for Kaito. This means his illness won’t kill him at the end of this trial after all. He has one more day left to live.

- I’d assume that Monokuma wouldn’t just immediately let them go free simply because he broke the rules – where’d be the entertainment value in that? Instead, I imagine he might pull basically the same thing as in chapter 6 of DR1: allow them to investigate everywhere in the Academy and challenge them to solve the whole mystery of the place.

- So we’d basically enter the same situation as the canon chapter 6 of this game, without any need for Keebo to lose his inner voice and fight the Exisals (in fact, we wouldn’t need to see the Monokubs again at all, woohoo). And with the much more important difference that Kaito is still here.

- The investigation for trial 6 would happen in the afternoon rather than overnight, because this trial 5 was a lot shorter than in canon, and nobody needed to take a few hours off to grieve. With that plus Kaito having that extra day, maybe that’d be just enough once they escape to get him to a hospital in time to save him. Maybe.

- (I mean, logically speaking, it’s got to be, because in this AU, Kaito doesn’t go to space at the end of this trial. So obviously he has to survive this, because he can’t die before he’s gone to space! That’s just an Unshakeable Kaito Fact.)

As for chapter 6 with Kaito still alive? That’s a topic for maybe another AU post sometime, since there’s other possible ways that outcome could be reached as well.

(When I get around to making that post, I’ll put a link to it here, so if you’re reading this note, I haven’t done so yet. I still intend to sometime, though!)

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #friends #training trio #v3 aus #kaito's hero issues #writing #blood

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years ago

Note

smol hc: Being the only RK models, CyberLife used some of Markus's base code in Connor's program. Emotions & empathy for social integration, and also some caretaking protocols in case emergency repairs/first aid are needed on the job (IE reactivating the Traci at the Eden Club, or diagnosing & "treating" Hank's ethylic coma LOL). I love the idea of Con getting to take care of Markus for once if he gets injured doing Rebel Leader Things™

🥺 Anon. I love this HC so much. Connor having some caretaker protocols is...yes. Absolutely. The jury is out and they find the defendant correct.

___

When Markus limped into his office, practically hopping on one foot every other step, all he wanted to do was bulldoze through his paperwork so he could go home and forget today ever happened. He’d taken a pretty hard hit earlier when a counter protester at their rally thought it was just a capital idea to hurl a brick into the crowd. Much more surprising than the sudden brick to the knee, though, was the (almost terrifying in it’s rapidness) reaction from the crowd. The guy was immediately apprehended and cursed out by human supporters and androids alike. It was wild. His bodyguards barely had to do any work. Markus swore he heard a human yell that thirium shots were on them after this, amidst a chorus of responding cheers. Nothing brings people together like a communal ass whoopin’? Apparently??

God he really hoped that human didn’t drink any thirium. Markus still had nightmares about Leo accidentally mixing up his blue raspberry jello shot with his drink, nevermind the fact that thirium consumables smelled like laundry detergent and poison as purposeful deterrents.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see the technician?” said Simon who, as his designated babysitter while North and Josh handled the fallout of the rally, followed into his office after him.

“Naaahh,” Markus drawled, waving the hand that was grasping a pen as if he could wave away the problem altogether. Not for the first time he wished the government would catch up with the rest of the world and just go paperless. Reading over and signing these tedious documents would be a lot less painful to do if they would just let him download it into his mind like a sensible person would. “I barely feel it, plus my Regenerative Program has already kicked in. By the time I get to the med bay it’ll probably be all fixed.”

“Uh huh,” Simon unconvinced at him. “How long till you’re repaired.”

Markus pulled up the damage report in his HUD. “About six…” he stared at the readings for a moment longer and, much to Simon’s chagrin, went back to doing his paperwork.

“...six what?”

“Bahhh,” Markus waved his hand again unhelpfully. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to make this sound better. Hopefully, his innate charm would cover for his trash convincing. “Ya know…”

“No. I do not know. What is it? Six minutes?”

Markus grunted.

“Hours!?”

Markus slumped lower in his chair. “Mmmhumph.”

“....Markus,” Simon started in a low warning voice. “If it’s days so help me I’m going to take out your other knee - ”

The door slammed open, startling Simon out of his threat, which was definitely about to escalate to more than Markus’ other knee once he found out it was six weeks.

“Connor!”

“Good morning Simon,” Connor greeted briskly, expression stormy as he made a beeline for Markus like the man possesses on a mission that he usually was. He was swinging a rather large, rather ominous looking tool box with a red medical cross painted on it. Markus didn’t even stop doing his paperwork. He knew the drill by now. “I heard about what happened and came as fast as I could.”

“Wow, the news has only been out for an hou - wait. Weren’t you in Ohio?”

“Yes. I would have been here sooner but traffic was heavier than usual and the family driving the Escalade was surprisingly insistent on going the speed limit. A majority of police officers won't cite drivers for going between 1-5 miles per hour over,” Connor rolled his eyes and scoffed, like he didn’t follow some laws down to the letter while blatantly disregarding others at any given time.

“Wha - did you hitchhike all the way here!?”

“Oh no of course not! There is a 46% chance of violent or criminal conduct committed against people who hitchhike.”

“Then how - ”

“I was sitting on top of the aforementioned Escalade.”

Markus gave him his best ‘why are you like this’ stare while Simon gaped in perplexion. “You didn’t need to car surf just to come all the way down here, hon.”

“After hearing about the state you were in, with all my love in the world I violently disagree.”

Markus sighed like a man whose knee wasn’t sparking and twitching at this very moment. And...hm. Maybe it did ache. A teeny bit. Whatever. He was still of the opinion that rubbing some dirt on it and a little stretching was enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“Well, maybe you can help me convince him to go to the technician,” said Simon.

“No need.” Without preamble, Connor plopped the heavy med(?) box on the floor and gently lifted Markus’ leg, hiking up his pants up to the thigh. As he examined it, intense as any jeweler examining a rare diamond, he hooked the back of a nearby stool with his foot and pulled it over, resting the leg on it. Markus neither struggled nor visually reacted; just kept stringently doing his paperwork like nothing was going on.

When Connor pulled out a collapsible creeper seat and rolled under Markus’ leg as if he were a mechanic working on a car, Simon went from passive observer to concernedly going around the desk to see what all the RK800 was doing.

“H-hey wait a second! Connor - it’s a pretty serious wound, maybe we should let the professionals handle it!”

Connor rolled slightly from under Markus with a large drill in his hand and an unimpressed look on his face. Surprisingly, Simon was not reassured by this in the slightest. “I assure you Simon that I am fully equipped with the latest caretaking protocols now could you please pass me that monkey wrench.”

“What seriously- UHH! I mean...” Realizing how insulting that sounded, Simon hurried to hand Connor the tool, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had such uh...versatile programing.”

“It’s the same base code used in mine, actually,” Markus added, using his free hand to pat Connor’s soothingly when he heard him grumbling things like “I can do more than kill things” and “No one has been irreparably maimed in my Knitting Circle”. Damn right honey, Markus thought, Greta and Patrica have had nothing but nice things to say about you’re wool socks.

“Oh riiiiiight. You two are from the same model line, I…” Markus could practically Jedi Sense Simon about to say ‘I forget that sometimes’, so he looked up at the PL600 and shook his head firmly with glaring eyes. Simon, sheepish, held up his hands placatingly and held his tongue.

“The code...has been streamlined to cater more towards field and emergency repairs,” Connor admitted reluctantly, but then quickly added, “but combined with my own personal research outside of my programming, it is no less effective.”

Eager to keep his foot out of his mouth, Simon merely nodded in agreement. He couldn’t, however, keep the growing alarm showing from his face as Connor pulled more and more absurd tools out of his box (the electric saw was particularly disconcerting), and started contorting around Markus so that he wasn’t interfering with his work in ways that at first, seemed normal, but were steadily becoming more on par with a cirque du soleil act. That alarm changed into bewilderment when he tilted Markus’ chair back, put a car jack under his desk so that it tilted forward at the perfect writing level, put a pillow behind his head and a fizzy thirium drink (complete with a fun crazy straw) in his mouth. His standard office setup now suddenly a mini spa.

When Connor started working a polisher to his knee Markus practically melted back into the chair. Oh that sneaky bastard. He knew Markus wouldn’t be able to get anything done by administering the android equivalent of a deep tissue massage.

Bewilderment now firmly settled on amusement, and thoroughly reassured that his friend/boss was in good hands, Simon started to take his leave. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it Connor. If you need back up to make sure this guy takes it easy we’re all on stand by.”

Connor nodded. “I will escort him home for further recuperation as soon as I have finalized his repairs.”

Markus, eyes closed as he happily sipped at his Particle-Colada, grunted in response to Simon’s farewell. He was a little annoyed that everyone was treating him like a toddler over his small injury, and a little more annoyed that Simon had felt the need to hover around Connor, as if he were bracing for the RK800 to do something violent, before trusting his good intentions. Granted, Markus (begrudgingly) could admit that Connor’s methods certainly weren’t...standard caretaker protocols, and that his bedside manner was well...much like the android himself; aggressive, confusing, and, most importantly, well-meaning.

“‘Can’t go home,” Markus murmured around his straw, very convincingly and not at all like he was about to ascend to a higher plane. “Still got work to do.”

“Hmm. Do you now?” With a fond, humoring, smile, Connor cranked up the power on the polisher. Markus swore his soul was straight vibin’.

Yea, actually. Maybe work could wait till tomorrow.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus/Connor #RK1000 #conkus #emiliaf25 ask reply #RK1K #Dr. Connor Medicine Woman #Connor and Markus both have caretaker protocols

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

Text

Pure Blood 32 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: Its feels so good to be back <3 -Val

Masterlist

Chapter 31 Chapter 33

If someone had told me that teaching James Potter was going to be like this from the beginning, I wouldn't have offered to help him. I wouldn't even have accepted his friendship.

"That doesn't make sense. You want me to ignore her, but I don't want to do that to her!"

I grunt and pull on my hair.

“It's not ignoring her. It's giving her space and not spending 24 hours breathing on her shoulder!"

"I don't do that!"

"That doesn't matter, James!" I yell, others start to stare around the Gryffindor common room.

"I told you it wouldn't be easy..." He mumbles.

"I didn't think you were such an idiot... Listen, once Lily agrees to be your girlfriend, you can be as clingy as you want, obviously she'll set the limits, but at least she'll no longer want to kill you like I want to,” I force a smile.

"Ok, explain again," He sighs.

“Stop harassing her, say good morning to her and go on with your day, if you meet her in the hallways– and no, you don't have to look for her, you just ask her how she's doing, if she decides to have a conversation, you follow, if not, you wish her the best and you leave. Same at dinner. Let her breathe."

"But it's so boring and at that rate she'll go out with me in ten years..." He complains, resting his arms on the table.

"You already have some advantage, you've spoken to her and met a little, now she must see that you have matured and that you can have a serious relationship–"

"I can do that!"

"Prove it."

"Anything else?"

“Save the compliments, at least for now. Just be simple."

"Good."

"Will you be okay tomorrow?"

"I hope so..."

***

Two weeks passed in which James followed my advice. And right now, in potions class, I smile every time Lily turns discreetly toward James.

"I can't believe it's working," Sirius says next to me.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you distrust your girlfriend's abilities?"

“I'm actually scared now. Who knows what you'll do in our relationship?"

"That's up to both of us and it depends on how you behave," I smile and kiss his cheek.

Class ends and I walk along with Sirius holding his hand.

"Good thing I didn't take the bet," says Remus catching up with us. "Lily's nervous..."

"Bet?"

"The three of us weren't so sure your plan would work, but the fact that James is listening to you made us change our minds," he explains.

The three of us stop before going to the great hall and James walks over.

"This is not working Persephone!"

I frown.

"What are you talking about?" The others also look at him confused.

“Now it's worse. Lily runs away from me and when I think she wants to talk, something happens and she runs as if I had some disease!"

I smile slightly and take his hand.

“Don't worry, everything is going well. You just have to be patient."

"I've waited six years..."

"Just a little more."

He grunts and nods.

Of all the students who pass us, I notice Regulus. Sirius notices it.

"Hey, you guys go ahead," he says to the others.

I frown and look at him.

"I spoke with Regulus," he tells me, surprising me. I never told him that I had talked to his brother.

"What? Why? What did he say?"

"Ok, calm down."

"Sirius," I threatened.

“I wanted to make sure my brother was… I don't know, okay? I was never able to send him letters, for obvious reasons, and when we came back to school he ignored me, but I found a way..."

"And?"

"It was a failure, and he has every right to be mad at me," He sighs. "He told me some things that Walburga forced him to do and all that..." He's silent for a few seconds. "Percy, last night I was thinking about what would happen if I came back? If I asked for forgiveness and take full responsibility…"

"I don't think it's that easy," I walk out of reach and he follows me.

“I know, but just imagine it. Maybe my parents will forget everything and I'll be the heir, I marry you… Regulus won't have to endure anything else. I've always been there for him, even when my parents got mad because I was sorted in Gryffindor, or all those times I tried to defend someone. He always came to me and we talked. Regulus was the one who scolded me the most for what I did to you, but he knows what to say and I'm just a selfish idiot…"

His chest rises and falls with heavy breathing. I stop him and cup his cheek.

“Sirius, I want to help him too. But taking the blame and wanting to do something that only hurts you is not the solution."

"Then what is?"

"I don't know," I shake my head. I feel a lump in my throat. "We can't always help everyone and less those who do not want to."

He leans in, his forehead against mine

"I want to get him out of there..."

"Me too," I sigh and close my eyes.

I slowly walk away and look at the boy in front of me. I wrap my arms around his neck and play with the little strands of hair that come out of his ponytail. He grabs my waist.

“I wish I could do something to keep Regulus with us, and you out of the reach of your family. Maybe the three of us in a small house..." I smile. "No school, no worries, just us in peace..."

"With James and the others on the weekends..."

"James married to Lily..."

"Remus telling us stories..."

"Peter cooking something for everyone..."

We both laugh at the thought.

"It's what we need."

***

When they say that the last year is faster, they are absolutely right. No more exams, now we can follow a quiet routine, at least inside Hogwarts.

Outside the chaos spreads and more and more Muggle or wizard families are disappearing. What worries the most are the reactions of others.

While some of us are afraid of what is happening, some smile and think that all victims deserve it.

Every time someone mentions any of that news, the atmosphere becomes tense and ends in fights.

The teachers don't want to tell us anything, after all, what can a group of teenagers do?

Just barely a week before Christmas break, Professor Dumbledore needs me in his office. When I arrive the marauders, Jenna, Lily and their friends are there too.

"What's going on?"

"Miss Singh, join the others, please" I obey.

The movements of the director on the other side of his desk are slow and meticulous. His always sweet and playful look is replaced by a serious one.

"I know you all have questions, unfortunately I cannot answer all of them," He walks to the side of his phoenix and caresses it slowly. "What I am about to tell you is confidential and it is vitally important that this only remains between us."

"Excuse me, professor," says Lily. “I don't think that's very encouraging. You took us out of class and now you're asking us to keep a secret. Sorry if I sound defensive, but I don't feel comfortable with all of this."

She is absolutely right and I am grateful someone said so. Because I have no idea whether to panic or ignore it. Dumbledore nods.

"I am aware of what is happening, I can easily read your expressions," he sighs, "I suppose you are all aware of the disappearances of both Muggle families and wizards."

"Do you know anything about that?" James asks and I tense my body.

Dumbledore nods again.

“I can't give you many details, I'm afraid, at least for now. However, the reason I brought you here together is that I have known you for almost seven years each, even if you think that teachers don't pay attention."

Sirius and I share a look.

“Therefore, I have the confidence to tell you about an organization. This is not official and we did not plan to tell you before everyone was of legal age, but the situation has worsened very quickly and I fear the worst..."

"What does that have to do with us, professor?"

“This organization aims to defeat the enemies guilty of all this chaos. I have spoken with the others and we agree that you can be of great help to make this happen."

"But we're just kids," adds Peter.

"That's the key, young Pettigrew."

My family comes to mind. I have no proof, but something tells me that they may be involved.

“For now, you cannot do more than gather information. Unfortunately, we are not the only ones who have rallied young people to be on their side. As soon as you graduate, we will tell you all the details and you can make the decision. We don't want to force anyone, but...” He gets up and watches us through his half-moon glasses. "You may be the solution."

Everything is silent for a few minutes, until McGonagall arrives and asks us to return to class.

"Miss Singh, may I have one more moment?" I nod. "I see that something else is bothering you, may I know what it is?"

Of all the people I could tell, I know that Dumbledore can be a great help. I know Sirius and the others know something, but they're just as lost as I am. Maybe someone older can help me.

"I don't think I can help much, professor."

"Why not?"

I frown.

"Do you know my family?"

He laughs slightly.

“Yes, I know them. Do you think they are involved in this?" I nod.

"And now I can't do much outside of school, they watch me."

“I am aware of that, Miss Singh. But that's why I'll give you time to think about it. I don't want to ask you to do things against your family, far from it. When this year is over, you will have your answer."

"How can you be so sure? How do you know that everything could work? If I accept and my family finds out, I could not bear the guilt and I don't want to be anyone's spy, I don't want to do any of that,”I say agitated.

Dumbledore sighs.

“Whatever your decision may be, I will personally help you with any problem you come across. You have my word,"

My eyes water.

It's not the answer to all my problems, but it is more than anyone could give me.

***

"You can't have chocolate cake for breakfast, P," Jenna scolds me.

"Sure I can, watch" I take a piece with my fork, but another hand takes it away.

"She's right," Remus says, pushing my fork away.

I pout.

"I wasn't going to eat just that," I lie.

"Here, " continues Jenna putting a plate with pumpkin soup in front of me.

"But I don't want soup..."

"That's the condition, don't be a child!" says Remus.

"Fine," I give up.

"Who would say that now they scold you even for eating?" Sirius scoffs next to me.

"It's not the only time. Only merlin knows how many days I had to hide my chocolates so that you could eat something else..."

"Ha…"

Sirius makes a face.

"Uh, Persephone," Lily tells me a few seats away.

"Yes?"

"What did you do now?"

"Another scolding? And now why?"

"You tell me, everyone is watching you," I raise my head and confirm what the redhead says.

I don't remember anything... at least something bad.

"Is it because she's with Sirius?" Marlene asks.

"I don't think so..."

At that, several owls enter the castle. I don't receive any, as usual, but something that worries me is that the accusing looks continue and some point to me, then see a white paper in their hands.

"Oh no," Jenna whispers and I notice she has a black envelope. "This is not good…"

She opens it and with her shaking hands takes out a white paper. She reads it and I see her pale. When she's done, she watches me.

"I, uh..." She hands me the paper.

I take it and read the italicized words.

The wedding of the century.

The great heirs of the most important families of the wizarding world Walburga and Orion Black along with Ares and Amelia Singh, have the honor to send this invitation:

You are cordially invited to the union between Regulus Arcturus Black and Persephone Amelia Singh.

The ceremony will take place in the summer of the following year at the great Black Mansion.

Taglist

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890 @msella @avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft @secret-obsessions

@xkonpinkx

@littledeadgirlwalking

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

#Pure Blood is back #Pure Blood #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Persephone Singh #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Regulus black #Harry Potter fanfic #Lily Evans #twoidiots writing

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arlenwolf · 3 years ago

Text

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thejamesoldier · 4 years ago

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Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!)

rating: explicit

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

#Every Tomorrow #thejamesoldier #my writing #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #inukag fluff #inukag smut #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #domestic bliss #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic

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writeblrfantasy · 4 years ago

Text

So! I may or may not have just finished editing pawns? I realize I didn’t tell you guys but last friday I finished the first draft and today I am officially done editing! I’m beyond proud of myself for finishing this, and to celebrate, here is the first chapter of pawns, in Isos’ point of view! I will still be posting excerpts because there’s more of this wip I want to share, but ahh thank you all so much for your interest in this project! it’s meant the world to me and these characters are some of my favorites i’ve ever written <3

taglist: @magic-is-something-we-create @kespada @forgottenrevelation @tmifangirl24 @a-place-of-babble @myhusbandsasemni

transcription under the cut because things are blurry when they shouldn’t be

I had always known a day like this would come. It was only a matter of when.

I changed masters often, more often than any other slaves. I was somewhat famous to the slaveholding lords of the slaveholding country Cera, and I had never stayed with a master for more than a year since I was five.

The least I had ever stayed with a master was a day. He’d taken me, his new prize, to show off to the lord he was dining with that evening. While my master was out of the room, his host restrained me and covered my mouth, lest I did not obey his order to comply. He snuck me away and killed my master when he came looking for me in a rage.

I was so desired partly because I could read, partly because I had a way with other slaves. I could rally them to me or put them in their place as surely as masters could. I’d never known why, but they listened to me.

So when one day my current master told me, “You’re going to become Lord Tohnicar’s tomorrow,” I thought nothing of the change, or even that it was to Lord Tohnicar. If I thought to flatter myself, which I did, he had heard of my reputation and wanted me for himself. Just like every other rich slaveholder in the country. It seemed inevitable that I would catch the eye of someone like him.

What I thought of was Lord Tohnicar himself. If I were anyone else, I would have pled and begged to be spared that torture. Even if I had known I would someday end up at Lord Tohnicar’s estate of Essely, I had not allowed myself to truly think upon it. My master even looked a little sorry as he told me, though this was almost definitely because of his loss versus mine. My ego was not so big as to assume he cared about what Tohnicar would do to me.

Lord Tohnicar was notoriously hard to please. He had high standards for his slaves, and if they didn’t make the cut, he threw them out. He deemed them not worth selling. To throw out a slave as such…I shuddered at the thought. Some thought he was too stupid to realize he was freeing them, but even if that were true, me and many others knew it would be a disgrace to have such a cloud over your head. Not even good enough to be sold.

You would be insulted and fought in every bar, free or not. You would be forced, eventually, to flee across the border to Morland, where slavery was illegal and they looked down on slaveholders with great distaste. Morland was far from perfect, but to some slaves the thought of it was paradise. I was not one of them.

Tohnicar was Moorish, but he’d come to Cera out of nowhere a few years prior. He’d entered the Ceran fold just when the old lord of the Essely estate died in his sleep. Tohnicar pounced on the auction for the estate and won it by a margin. Some said he’d won it with his Moorish queen’s money. His win had angered Ceran lords greatly, because to own that seaside estate was to control the everlasting tensions and wars between Cera and Morland. The estate itself was humble, but it sat on the coast of the Esselian sea, and its borders stretched far down the coast.

Morland was perpetually angry that they had to go the long way around to the sea, since Cera prohibited them from taking the shortcut through to the gulf. Morland had invaded Cera many times throughout the centuries to take the access they wanted and needed for trade from other continents, but Cera had always driven them out. The owner of Essely had the perfect view and the perfect power to restrict the limited access Morland had even further, or they could choose to open it up, ensuring something resembling peace between the two countries, though that wouldn’t likely stick unless Cera got rid of their slaveholders.

Despite the man who owned it, I’d always been excited and curious about seeing Essely in person. I tried to hang on to any positivity I could on the horseback ride there, with nothing but the clothes on my back and the small worn journal tucked inside my thin clothes.

Tohnicar had the money to buy and dispose of slaves as he liked, like they were nothing more than momentary amusements to him. The slaveholders throughout Cera feared him too much to refuse him their slaves when he demanded them. He fit in so well with the savagery of the Cerans, I found it hard to believe he was not one. Moorish were known for being stiff, prudish, and cold, not hot tempered and bloodthirsty like the Cerans they hated. I didn’t let myself think about my dark fate too much, because I could change nothing about it.

I wondered what my duties would be. I was not a troublemaking slave. I did not have a bad record. I was too free-thinking and curious for my own good, I knew that, but I was obedient. I was fortunate not to work in the fields. Each master I had usually put me there a day or two until they watched me faint from the sun. At first the master would think I was faking, and I would never deny these claims. Then he would call in his physician. A weakness of the blood, they would all say. I was not faking.

I learned that this weakness was a gift. I would look forward to the day my new master would decide to put me in the house, as he always did. I would watch the emotions flicker across his face, anger, annoyance, a moment’s cruelty, and finally rueful acceptance, then he would sigh and yank me inside. No man needed a house slave nearly as much as he needed a field slave, which was why I was always quick to prove my usefulness indoors.

I was not like the men in the fields in any way, tall and muscular and calloused from years of grueling work. Skinny, weak blooded me was happy to watch them from the windows while I did my master’s chores, showed his guests in and tended to them, offered to read to his children when he complained of his distaste to do so himself.

When I offered to read to them, he would accept suspiciously and watch from the doorway the first night I did so. If the children had a favorite book, I would read that. If all they wanted was a simple tale or story, I would tell one of the many I’d learned and overheard and read about in my life.

That first night, I would pick a story that was safe for my master’s suspicious ears, something about noble children trumping slaves. Sometimes a useful lesson. But once the master trusted me indefinitely and stopped coming to watch, I’d tell them the stories I preferred, personal favorites I would never let any master hear. Those were some of my best memories. I would tell them not to tell their father about those stories, and most of the time they were young enough not to know why I wasn’t supposed to be telling them those stories. To them I was just the nice man who told them bedtime stories. I’d never gotten caught yet.

Tohnicar had no children, and when we arrived, I was not sent to the fields. I barely had time to take in the tall house perched on top of the rocky cliff with the sound of the ocean crashing down on the beach and the rocks beyond. I had only served one master with a seaside estate before, when I was too young to remember much of it.

Tohnicar met me and my escort at the gates guarding the house. I hadn’t thought much about what he’d look like, but it wasn’t this. He looked younger than any master I’d had before, not much older than me. Certainly barely old enough to be considering marriage, let alone children. Yet his blue-green eyes showed age beyond his young face. My eyes were drawn to the dark hair that favored most Mor, the silver revolver that sat in a holster on his right hip, the thin white shirt unbuttoned at the top to let the summer breeze in, the ugly scowl on his face.

A few slaves watched from the fields, but no guards accompanied Tohnicar. He growled a word at my old master, something like thanks. His took my arm in a vice grip. I thought his fingers would leave bruises, but I also thought bruises would be the least of my worries in my time with him compared to the emotional toll.

He paid my master with a fist full of gold that made my eyes widen, still with his grip tight on my arm. My master pocketed the money, never looking directly at him.

I allowed myself but a glance back at my old master, who grimaced as my new master took me inside the gates and shut them behind us. He locked the heavy padlock with an iron key he kept around his neck under his shirt. I noted this for the future.

“Get back to work,” he snarled in Ceran, and I looked up at the slaves scattered around the tiny yard. They were all holding trowels, hoes, shovels, tending to the pretty garden around the house. He repeated the order when they continued to stare at me. I was surprised he hadn’t forced the slaves to learn Moorish for his convenience. He led me inside the house and the slaves got back to work. I looked at them as we passed, searching for bruises and other signs of abuse, but I saw nothing mottling their skin except the slave’s tattoo on their left forearms.

My new master dragged me to the top of his winding and tall wooden house. I was not given much time to get my bearings, but I knew I would explore later. He pulled open a door and finally let me go. He sat down in a chair beside a window with a breathtaking view of the sea. When I looked at him, the evil snarl had left his face, replaced by a pleasant smile. I blinked, wondering if I was seeing the same person.

He appeared not to have a care in the world, and obviously found my confusion amusing. “Isos, answer one question for me, and then you can have the choice of your complete freedom, I promise you.” His eyes glittered. This was clearly a joke, a test meant to humiliate me. I pitied any slave who fell for it.

My mind began running through the potential questions he might ask and all the ways I would answer wrong. There was no way for me to win here. “What are your feelings about Morland?” he asked.

This, naturally, made me hesitate. He was Moorish. One wrong word and that pleasant smile would be gone. I chose my words carefully. “I think, from what I’ve heard, Master, that Morland is a lovely place.”

“No, no, not what I want,” he said, waving. He looked disappointed, which sent panic spiking in my gut. I was already imagining dark basements from which the screams of the slaves floated up and kept you awake. Or perhaps I would be whipped in the yard, made an example of.

“I want you to tell me how you truly feel. Unbiased. Don’t worry about offending me, you’re not going to. Pretend as if you’re speaking to an equal. One of your friends.”

I barely kept from snorting.

Have it his way, then.

“I have little knowledge about the true lifestyle of the Moorish,” I said with a shrug, “but being a Mor sounds better than being a slave. If the rumors are true, prudes in stiff collars are better than masters with whips.”

He stared at me for a moment, speechless. In the silence that followed, I imagined my death over and over again.

“That’s better,” he finally said. “Thank you.” He ran a hand over his young and beardless face. Pleasant surprise flashed in his eyes. I allowed myself to study him now that the threats of torture and death were temporarily eased. He was tall, taller than me by a head, and the warmth of his eyes was totally different from any master I’d had before. He was, I had to admit, handsome. But those thoughts led nowhere good. I put a stern stop to them.

“Most of my new men don’t understand the words, ‘you won’t offend me,’” he said. “I can hardly blame them, but it’s refreshing to have one who obeys.” He smiled in irony, but the cogs in my brain were turning furiously, hurrying to adjust, to decipher his words. Was this a hidden command to submit? Was the smile fake? By goddess Rhouth, how had I let myself think it was real? I couldn’t afford to let my guard down at the first sign of a real smile. That wasn’t how I’d stayed alive for twenty years.

“I am exactly as I seem now,” said he, as if reading my mind. The way he looked into my eyes certainly suggested he could. “You do not have to fear me. Though these words, as well, generally fall on deaf ears. I’m afraid my reputation cannot be helped, and I’m sorry for all you’ve heard about me and probably worried about.” He sighed, then brightened. “But I knew you would be different. You have a reputation as much as I do.” He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and eyed me.

I held perfectly still, betraying nothing on my face.

He smiled. “You are cautious, too. And observant. And, smart, I can tell. Good. Now, I offer you a choice. You can either leave with your complete freedom and a pouch of gold, or you can stay with me as my equal.”

“As you wish, Master,” I said before I could stop myself. To my amazement, he just laughed.

“You have a week to decide,” he said. “Spend time with my other men, see what you think, what they tell you. See how you like the barracks. Should you stay with me, your job will be easy, and I will be a kind master. I swear on my queen. And you, along with all my others, will be taken into the fold of something...” He paused. “Special. I’m sorry to say I can’t tell you what it is.

“Should you choose to leave, that pouch of gold will get you anywhere you wish to go, but your memories of this conversation, and your time with me, will be erased. In their places, I will be painted in a crueler light.” He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “A necessary evil. You will believe that I, disgusted with you, have cast you out to fend for yourself. If anyone asks, you’ll say you stole the gold before I disposed of you, because who in the world would believe that I gave it willingly?”

He was right. I was instantly intrigued by him, despite the rational side of me whispering I shouldn’t be. But he said I had a week. A week to quiet the excited, curious thrumming of my heart, and listen to the conclusion my brain had already reached: only a slave who had a death wish took freedom from kind, conspiring masters who promised to include you in something ‘special.’

He stood to shoo me towards the door. The little room was cramped with the both of us at our full height and the furniture. Through our entire conversation, he had never left his chair. I realized with a jolt it was so I wouldn’t be intimidated by his height.

“Go be with the others, Isos,” he said with a smile. He said my name with a little flair, like he liked how it sounded in his mouth. Eye-soese. My other masters, on the rare occasions they’d remember my name or bother to use it, would spit it out like bile, usually with rage smarting in their eyes. There was no rage in Tohnicar’s eyes. When he looked at me, his eyes lit up, the same way I had looked at wildflowers in my first master’s garden until I learned that it was not wise to stop my work and smell the flowers where he could see.

“I look forward to your decision.” Tohnicar winked, and closed the door after me.

#excerpt from my wip #my wip #my writing #writing #writeblr #fantasy writeblr #fantasy #my ocs #wip: ppap #oc: isos of cera #oc: chariton #bean's excerpts

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axwalker · 5 years ago

Text

The Trade 12

Synopsis: Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option than to seduce Liam Rhys. But what happens when she falls in love with his best friend? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it. A lot of angst and heartbreak

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback. Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR).

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @pedudley my awesome beta reader, your comments and encouragement mean so much. And of course, to @mskaneko for this beautiful mood board, and all the other great edits and mood boards 💕💕 Love you girls!!

Kiara being Kiara speaks a bit of French in this episode the translations are at the end of the chapter.

WE’RE ALMOST AT THE END!!

@burnsoslow @mskaneko @drxkewalker @pedudley @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @lauzales @desireepow-1986 @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @debramcg1106 @speedyoperarascalparty @drakewalker04 @ac27dj @ravenpuff02 @msjr0119 @texaskitten30 @loveellamae

Liam was sitting in the living room, with a scotch in his hand when Maxwell and Alexis arrived.

“Alexis, thank god you are alright. I was worr-“ he stopped himself noticing that she had been crying. “Love, I’m sorry I made you cry. Please, believe it wasn’t my intention.”

He took a step towards her, but she raised her hand, stopping him, she felt emotionally drained. “That’s not the reason I’m crying.” She stared at him “However, I do want you to think very thoroughly about the kind of wife you want because I won’t limit myself to bear your children and smile prettily at your meetings. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired, we’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, Max.” she gave Maxwell a kiss on his cheek and waved at his fiancé “Good night, Liam”

Liam was about to follow her, but Maxwell grabbed his arm. Alexis had told him everything about Abigail on the ride back and he knew she needed time alone.

“Li! Can I give you some unsolicited advice?” The blond man looked at him expectantly. “Give her some space. Let her breathe, man. You’ll talk tomorrow “

Liam nodded and left the room to go bed.

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Drake was twelve years old when he arrived at the Rhys mansion to live with Constantine and his family. Bastien had convinced the President to take the Walker children after their father had died to protect him. The president had accepted to take them in and give them the best possible education, not only as a proof of his gratitude but as a magnificent publicity stunt, he knew the voters would love it.

Drake was reluctant to go with them. Regina and Constantine were both extremely cold parents and he knew her mother had never liked either of them. What if they were horrible to him, or worst, to his baby sister?

He was so nervous that not even the thrill of living with his best friend was enough to calm him. Bastien showed them their respective rooms, both twice as big as their old ones at the old Walker cabin. Savannah was even more scared than him, her heart was beating furiously, and she was clutching her teddy bear so hard that her knuckles went white.

“It’s ok Sav, we’ll be fine here, you know Li and Leo are cool” He tried to sound as mature as he could.

Savannah couldn’t stop her tears any longer. “You always tease me when you’re with them.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it “We won’t anymore, Sav. I promise”

“I second that,” Liam poked his head into Savannah’s room. “We won’t tease you anymore Savvie. But the two of you can help us get back at Leo. Olivia and I are thinking how to prank him after he hid stinky bombs under our chairs on Livvie’s birthday. When we sat down, they exploded, and the room was reeking. Olivia was so furious she persecuted him with the knife for her cake and my dad punished us for a month” He seemed really amused by the memory.

Savannah smiled shyly behind her bear. “He really did that?”

“Yes, he also took some red coloring from the kitchen and put it on Olivia’s toothpaste, she spent the whole day with red teeth. Well, that one backfired, she was delighted when everyone thought she had been on a fight” Liam grinned at them. After losing his own mother three years before, he understood how anxious they were feeling, and he wanted them to feel welcome.

Drake smiled seeing his sister was calmer and shot a grateful look at Liam. He put his arm around Savannah’s shoulders and winked at his best friend “We will definitely think of something”

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Drake had waited a more than an hour before leaving the beach so he wouldn’t arrive at Theron’s mansion at the same time as Max and Alexis. When he finally started driving his mind drifted to the day after his mother had left. He took a deep breath remembering how sad and scared him and Sav had been and how much Liam had wanted to comfort them. All that pain because his mother had decided to abandon her own children without looking back. It astonished him that Alexis had thought that the two situations were remotely similar. She had been strong and generous, where her mother had been flaky and weak. Alexis would do anything to keep her daughter safe, his mother couldn’t care less about them.

Drake sighed thinking of her, of the roller coaster of emotions she had put him through. And now that he had finally understood the reasons behind the way she was acting, his only wish was to kill George O’Brien with his bare hands. That asshole had not only failed in protecting Alexis, but he had had the nerve of making her feel guilty and worthless. He had abandoned her when she had needed him the most and then he had forced her to give up her own daughter. His blood boiled thinking of Alexis, young, terrified and alone, and of her pain so raw, so deep despite the years. He remembered her soft voice telling him that she had never felt safe before him. That son of a bitch had to pay.

He dialed Kiara’s phone.

“Drake?”

“Hi, Kiara. I just wanted to know if Ambassador O’Brien is staying at your estate tonight with the rest of us.”

“Uhm, yes. I think my staff gave him the blue room, you know?” Kiara lowered her voice. “The one where you and I almost…”

Drake sighed, they had almost slept together ten years ago during a Beaumont Bash and she wouldn’t let it go. “Yes, I know. Thanks Kiara”

“Wait, Drake, I think he’s-“

Drake stopped the call and speeded up, he wasn’t thinking clearly, the only thing in his mind was to teach that monster a lesson.

When he arrived at the house, he jumped out of his car and entered the mansion furiously. In less than a second he was in the room Kiara had mentioned. He slammed the doors open only to find her, sitting in the bed.

“Coucou! (1) You got me all curious, Drake. You hung up the phone so fast, I couldn’t tell you that George is out of the country. He had some business to do in France” She stood up and walked towards Drake, putting her arms around his neck. “Why are you looking for him?”

He grabbed her arms and put them away. “Something for the campaign, forget about it.”

“S’il te plaît mon chéri. Tu as l’air très énervé ! (2) It has to be something more than a simple professional matter”

“I don’t speak fucking French Kiara and is not of your business. Good night.” Drake left the room as angrily as he had entered it.

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Hakim Theron was satisfied that the campaign had finally reached Castelraillan. It would be much easier to carry out his plans without worrying about missing crucial information.

Penelope had proved effective, but she didn’t have the brains or the wit to take matters into her hands. Plus she had to keep an eye on him, his secret weapon, the one who would definitely destroy Liam’s presidential dreams.

Hakim hoped that the boy didn’t take his betrayal personally, it wasn’t something he had against him or even Constantine, as much as he disliked the old man. It was what was best for Cordonia. Liam wanted to change too many things too fast and that could be dangerous for his country’s stability. It would be better for everyone, if things could go back to the way they were.

He smiled seeing Alexis and Tariq’s pictures, it was ironic that Constantine had brought to his son’s campaign the woman that was going to, unknowingly, destroy it.

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Alexis got into the car that was going to take her to the rally at Castelraillan and decided to check the final details of her last speech on the ride. She sighed thinking about how much she wanted to keep on working with Liam. Ironically, he had fired her because of Drake but Drake wasn’t the reason she wanted to be part of the campaign. The reason was Liam. His passion, his ideas, and his determination to change his country inspired her and made her admire him.

“Can I come in?” She turned her head to the car’s door and saw Liam with a couple of coffees and some pastries in a box.

“My father is waiting for me in the other car, but I much rather share these cronuts with you.” He smiled charmingly.

She couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, if you bought too many cronuts, I could always help you with that.”

He entered the car and sat next to her, opening the box. “Take one.” He handed her one of the coffees. “And here’s a latte too”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she drank her coffee black, no sugar. Like Drake.

“Thank you, Li.”

He leaned to give her a soft kiss stroking her cheek with his hand. “I’m sorry about your role in the campaign, Alexis, but I really think it is for the best. I know you think that it’s about Drake, but it’s not.”

She shook her head rolling her eyes.

“Well, not only,” he conceded. “If I win you are going to be the First Lady of this country. You should be focusing on preparing for that, my love.” He kissed her knuckles. “You will have a lot of charities and philanthropic work, and of course you should be planning our engagement party and our wedding. I wouldn’t expect nor want that you limit yourself to smile prettily. I need a partner, someone I can trust next to me. But being my wife won’t be easy.”

Alexis nodded, finally acknowledging what her life would be from that moment on. Fancy and uncomfortable dresses, high painful heels, endless galas, and boring meetings for the hundreds of charities she would preside but would have no real involvement in.

Alexis was going to have to accept the fact that she wasn’t her own person anymore. Her dreams of hiking and camping in the forest, traveling around the world or writing a children’s novel one day weren’t a possibility any longer. Becoming First Lady would bring a whole set of responsibilities and she would have to live with that.

However, the worst part would be learning how to live with an eternal broken heart. She focused on the view behind the window. “I know, Liam. I’ll ask Max for help to plan the party and the wedding.”

“Perfect darling. And you can also count on Regina” The limousine parked “Here we are.”

When they got out of the car, dozens of paparazzi were waiting for them. Liam put his arms around her protectively and they quickly reached the temporary campaign’s quarters that had been set for the rally.

Drake felt her presence before she walked in. She was beautiful in a simple red dress and light makeup, but her facial expression was gloomy, highly contrasting with Liam’s joyful one. After a few seconds, she saw him and her face softened immediately. They locked eyes with each other only for a moment but they both felt the electricity passing across the room and turned around grinning. She took her computer and went to work on the other side of the room.

“Drake, can you bring me the results of the last polls in Castelraillan?” Liam was with Olivia checking some numbers before his speech and had missed their exchange.

“Of course, here they are. They show how your numbers have increased since Hakim declared his support.” He handed him a USB and added trying to sound casual. “Do you have the speech? I have to double-check that all your facts are correct”

Liam went mute for a second. “Alexis has it. I’ll go ask her for it”

Olivia cocked her brow. “What? Do you need some extra cash, so you took a second job running errands?” She snorted “Don’t be ridiculous, Liam. We have to look at these polls before you start the rally. Drake is a big boy; he can go himself”

Drake went looking for Alexis and spotted her immediately on the other side of the room.

“Hey O’Brien. I need to check the speech.” He said with a soft smile.

Her breath hitched seeing him grinning at her. Those dimples. “Hi, Drake!” She felt like a teenager again. Her ability to form coherent sentences or look at him without blushing were both gone, so she feigned to be deeply interested in her computer. Drake pulled a chair and sat next to her.

He lowered his voice so only her could hear him. “How are you doing, Lexie?”

“I’m fine, Drake. Thank you. Talking really helped.” Her eyes were bright and grateful, and he had to actively fight his hand’s urge to touch her.

“I’m here for anything you need, baby.”

She looked fondly at him, but suddenly remembered where she was, and most importantly, where her fiancé was and cleared her throat, standing up.

“I’m going to take five minutes, but you can read the speech here on my computer.” She shot him a sad look before leaving. It was better that way.

The rally started one hour later, Liam went up on stage and people went crazy. Alexis smiled, he was a great politician, she might have written the speech, but it was him who was bringing it to life. The fact that he actually believed in what he was saying, definitely helped.

She saw the crowd cheer and applaud at the other side of the curtain.

All of a sudden, Drake stood up behind her, his musky scent immediately inebriating her. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear.

“We didn’t finish our conversation, O’Brien.”

His warm breath and his low raspy voice in her ear made her shiver. “I don’t know what you mean, Walker”

He shot a glance towards the stage where Liam was talking about education. Then he looked back at her. She was playing nervously with her chocolate hair, finally setting all of it on the left side of her head, leaving part of her neck uncovered.

The temptation was too great, he leaned towards her again and placed a small kiss on her nape while his fingertips gently brushed her back.

She closed her eyes savoring the brief moment, the feeling of Drake behind her was exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Drake placed another small kiss but on her shoulder this time. Then he turned to her ear again.

“I need you, Lexie. Don’t shut me down again.”

She turned to him “Drake, I can’t do this. Please, don’t make it so hard.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of her.

Suddenly, a burst of applauses took them out of their bubble. Liam had finished his speech and was walking off the stage shaking hands and smiling widely at his followers.

“Come on, Drake. Let’s avoid another pissing contest. If Li sees you two together again, he’s going to lose it” Olivia glared at Alexis.

“Go with her, Drake. Please,” Alexis begged.

He shook his head but left with Olivia.

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

Maxwell sighed content. He had coordinated the whole rally with Ezequiel’s help, Kiara’s brother had been very helpful. He had asked him out, but he was too in love with Rashad to accept.

He knew that he and Kiara had broken their engagement, but he hadn’t had look for him yet. Rashad was on his own path, and he had to respect that. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the presence in front of him. He looked up and was surprised to see Rashad watching him

“Hi, Max,” He said smiling.

“Hi, Rash. How are you doing?” He grinned back.

“Fine, it’s definitely weird to be back at my ex-fiancé’s house but I’m more convinced than ever that it was the right decision. I’ve missed you.” He set his hand in Maxwell’s knee and looked him expectantly.

“Are you sure about this Rashad?” Maxwell’s eyes were full of hope “Are you ready to try something real with me? To come out for good?”

Rashad nodded “I talked to my father; he wasn’t as shocked as I would have thought. He wasn’t thrilled but he said he’ll be supportive. I think that he really, really hated Kiara, so anyone else is an upgrade for him.” He chuckled.

“Even me?” Maxwell cocked his brows inquisitively.

“You’re the most amazing man in the world, Max” Rashad pulled Maxwell’s head towards him and kissed him. “I was dying to do that”.

Maxwell smiled mischievously and took Rashad’s hand. “I’ll show you upstairs what I’m dying to do”

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

The next day, Alexis was having breakfast with Liam in the main room. He wanted to make plans for their upcoming engagement party.

Maxwell entered the room with a huge smile plastered on his face. When he saw Alexis, he took her hand forcing her to stand up, and started to spin her around the room while he sang, under Liam’s amused look.

“L is for the way you look at me

O is for the only one I see”

She cackled “Max!” He twirled her around once more before elegantly dipping her, as he finished singing.

“V is very, very extraordinary

E is even more than anyone that you adore can”

Liam laughed. “Should I be concerned about you stealing my fiancé, Max?”

He chuckled. “She’s definitely a catch, but not really my type.”

“Let me guess.” She pointed her finger at him beaming. “Rashad and you’re back together?”

Liam cocked his brows in surprise. “What? Rashad is gay? Are you and Rashad together, Max?”

Alexis laughed. “You didn’t notice all those cute little looks that they’re always throwing at each other?”

“I can be slightly oblivious sometimes.” Liam smiled sheepishly

She hugged Max. “I’m so happy for you! You’re the best friend anyone can hope for, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Aww! Stop, Blossom, you’re going to make me cry and I can’t have red, puffy eyes on my first day back with Rash.” He looked pensive for a second before talking again. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to run by you. I would love to bring Rashad to your engagement party as my official date.”

“I don’t even understand why you’re asking, Max. You can come with whoever you want.” She turned to Liam.

“Of course, Max. I don’t care who you bring as long as you come.”

“Aww, guys! I love you! Group hug!” He threw his arms at both of them before leaving. “I’ll go tell Rash.”

Alexis watched him go, delighted to see him so happy. She looked at Liam who was serving her a cup of coffee and put her hand on his. “You’re a good friend, Li.”

He placed the coffee maker on the table and took her chin between his thumb and index. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but I’m hoping that we’ll be able to take care of that with some time.” He leaned to kiss her.

“I have to run, darling. I have a lot of work to do. Will you go shopping with Max for your wedding dress?”

She shuddered but managed to give him a small smile. “Yes. We have an appointment with Ana de Luca later. That’s all I’ll be doing with my day today. It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He ignored the acid remark. “You’ll love her. See you later, my love.” Liam kissed her before leaving the room.

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

After days of trying wedding and engagement dresses, Alexis was more than exasperated. She had never been someone who cared much about clothes and the only thing she was doing lately, was to shop.

She was even more exhausted from avoiding Drake. Every fiber of her being was pulling Alexis towards him but being close to each other was a torturous pain for both of them, so she tried to stay away from the campaign quarters as much as she could. She shuddered thinking about her engagement party. Drake would have to be there and watch her getting officially engaged with Liam. He was going to have to smile and congratulate them. She felt like screaming, the pain was getting too much to handle.

She took the keys to her car and drove to the nearest bar.

Five or six cheap whiskey glasses later, she was still sitting on a stool, incapable of moving. The moments she had spent with Drake were replaying in her head like a broken record. The day they had met, and that amazing kiss. The night stargazing or drinking whiskey in the cellar. The way he had taken care of her the night she had seen Brad again. How he had comforted when she had told him about Abigail. The conversations and the confidences they had shared. The hours spend discovering and loving each other. She missed how safe she felt with him. She craved their fights, his eyes, his kisses, his arms around her, his deep, raspy voice, his strong hands. Alexis didn’t know how she was going to do to live the rest of her life without him.

She was getting really drunk. It would be better if she called Max to take her back to the house.

“O’Brien” The familiar, manly voice startled her.

“Drake…how-?”

“Someone recognized you and called me”. He pointed at the back of the bar where Bastien nodded at them.

“You didn’t have to come, I was going to call Max.”

He sat on the stool beside her and called the barmaid. “I’ll have the same than her.”

Then, he turned to her to stroke her face. “I’m always going to come, Lexie. Always.”

She exhaled a sad breath. “Drake, I have to marry him. I don’t want to, but I have to.”

“We have to tell him the truth, Alexis. I know him since we were kids, he’ll understand.”

She sneered. “He’ll understand that I have been lying to him for months? He’ll understand that his father and mine have been plotting behind his back? He’ll understand that he loves me but I’m ... I’m …” She ran her hand through her hair desperately.

“You what, Alexis?” He lowered his head to meet her eyes. “You what?” He cupped her face making her face him “Tell me, you what!”

“I love you, okay?! I love yo- “

He crashed his mouth with hers stroking her face with his thumbs. It was hungry, desperate. It was soft and hot and breathy, and passionate. The heat rose in their cheeks as their tongues intertwined and they had to come out for air, breathless and giddy.

He held her head so her forehead would rest on his “I love you too, Alexis. I love you so fucking much it actually hurts. I never thought I would be the kind of guy who would tell a girl he’s crazy about her, but here I am, mad about you.” He sighed. “Insane about you.”

Her heart was beating faster and faster. Her head kept telling her that it was a mistake but the pull to him was stronger and she kissed him over and over until they needed to come out for air again.

After a while, she came to her senses.

Her eyes watered looking at him. “The reason Liam is acting controlling and possessive is that he’s feeling insecure. And he’s right. I love you. You are the love of my life, Drake.” Drake listened to her as he softly rubbed her face. “So I can’t really blame him for acting the way he is. I know he would never hurt me. I know he loves me. But even if I tell him the truth, I have to marry him.” She took a sharp breath. “If I’m honest with him there’s two possibilities. Either he calls off the wedding and Abigail will be in danger. Or he’ll agree to marry me to help me but he will be heartbroken.” She stroked Drake’s cheek too. “Telling Liam doesn’t solve the problem; we would only break his heart even more. The only solution is to accept things as they are, Drake. I’m sorry.”

He stared angrily at her “So that’s it? I love you, Drake but I’ll be marrying Liam in three weeks. You’re not even going to fight?”

“Don’t be unfair, Drake you know there’s nothing I can do.” Tears were falling off her cheeks as she spoke “Please, leave. I’ll call Maxwell”

She gestured the barmaid for another whiskey.

Drake stood up and turned her stool towards him, so she would be facing him. He leaned towards her taking her chin with his fingers “I would never leave, Lexie. Never. I don’t care if you marry him. I don’t care if I have to wait for the rest of my life to be with you. I won’t leave. As you long as you need me, I’ll be right here.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Even if we can only be friends?”

“Even then.” Drake returned her sad smile. “You can always count on me, baby.” He put a strand hair behind her ear, before kissing her forehead. “Now, let’s get you out of here before you drink their whole lot of whiskey”

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

Three days later, Liam was getting ready for his engagement party. He put his tuxedo on and looked in the mirror. He felt nervous, he was completely in love with Alexis, but he couldn’t help but feel uncertain. He kept on trying but she seemed unattainable, always kind, and gentle but never really there with him. Liam shook his head putting those thoughts aside, they were getting married in three weeks and, then, she will be his. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Liam had arranged one limousine for the five of them so they would arrive together like a solid family. He had invited Leo to come with them too, but he said he would arrive a little later, surely drunk and with some random woman. It was exasperating but he couldn’t take care of that now.

When the car pulled over at the O’Brien’s mansion and Alexis came out, Liam grinned. She was gorgeous. He offered her his arm and took her to the limousine, with George behind them.

Constantine and Regina were already inside waiting for them with a cold champagne bottle.

Alexis sighed. Perfect! The man with no heart and the wicked witch of the east.

George spoke with a content expression on his face. “Well, we’re close to Election’s day and we’re almost sure that we will win. We should toast to that”

“A glass of champagne, dear?” Regina questioned.

She smiled politely.“Yes, Regina. Thank you” And keep them coming.

After clinking their glasses, Constantine turned to Liam “Are you ready, son? All Cordonia’s press will be there, you’ll have to give interviews and take some pictures” He paused to focus on Alexis “We all know how much you hate that dear, but you’ll have to do it tonight. Do we understand each other?”

She stared at him contemptuously. “I’m more than capable to answer some questions, Constantine but thank you so much for your concern.”

Liam grabbed her hand “Please, father. Alexis doesn’t need you to tell her what to do.” He turned to her. “By the way love, you look beautiful”

She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Li. You look very handsome too.”

The limousine parked at the venue chosen by Regina. Liam squeezed Alexis’s hand.

“Let’s do this”

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

Maxwell had everything ready. He had planned the party with Regina, after a few days, it had become clear that Alexis wasn’t at all interested in the party, or in the engagement.

He had greeted most guests and was only waiting for them. When they finally arrived, he instructed them on how to make their entrance. George came down the stairs first, then Regina and Constantine, and finally, in the middle of a round of applause, Liam, the candidate, and Alexis.

Drake was at the other end of the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His heart raced at the sight of her. She was breathtaking with a red strapless dress that brought attention to her breasts. It was tight, and had a long skirt with a slit that gave a tantalizing view of her tanned, long leg as she descended; her big eyes and crimson lips were framed by her shiny brown hair. She was a vision, A gorgeous vision. His mouth went dry instantly, he knew that his promise of being only his friend will be very difficult to keep.

His fist clenched seeing Liam put his arms around her and kiss her in front of everyone. In front of him. He felt like punching someone, and seeing George next to them, he knew exactly who. The rage didn’t let him see the brunette sitting next to him.

“Salut, Drake. Ca va? (2)” Kiara asked seductively.

“I have told you a thousand times how annoying it is when you switch languages like that Kiara. Pick fucking one and stick with it. It’s called commitment.”

She giggled. “I love how direct you are.” She placed her hand on his thigh “I really really love it” She started to rub his thigh, but he grabbed her hand.

“Well, I’m happy you appreciate my bluntness, you’re going to love this, I need some time alone, Kiara. Have a good night.” He turned towards the bar and asked for another whiskey.

Alexis didn’t miss anything about their exchange, her blood boiled when she saw Kiara place her hand on his thigh but smiled to herself when she saw Drake take it off.

Liam hugged her from behind.

“How are you doing, love?”

“I would love another glass of champagne, Li,” she answered.

He signaled the waiter to come and serve them. He clinked his glass with her and kiss her on the cheek “You won’t believe how happy I’m tonight, not only I’m way ahead in the polls, but I have In my arms the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Olivia huffed. She had a thousand things to coordinate and Drake wasn’t of any help getting wasted on the bar. Of course, she understood him, even if she still loved Liam, her feelings weren’t as raw as Drakes’ and she had had years of training.

She approached the happy couple seething, she would love to know Alexis’s intentions. It was obvious how crazily in love with Drake she was. Was she marrying Liam only for his position? Olivia had to find out.

“You have to come and talk to Francesco, the Italian’s ambassador, Liam” She shot an angry look at Alexis. “And your father is looking for you.”

Alexis seemed surprised. “What for?”

Olivia arched her brow “Do I look like your fucking secretary or do you need glasses?”

“Olivia, please,” Liam scolded her.

Alexis was about to answer with a snarky remark but when she saw Olivia’s eyes, she recognized the pain. Olivia was hurting as much as she was but for a different man.

“It’s fine, Li. I’m going to go look for my father. See you later.”

Liam took her hand and pulled her body towards him to kiss her “See you soon my love.”

Drake stood up furious after seeing the kiss. After all the whiskey he had had to drink the only thing he cared about was talking to her. He saw her walk away from Liam and Olivia and enter the hall, he tried to pass the couples dancing in the dance-floor as fast as he could but when he was about to go out, Max called him.

Alexis reached the hall. Her father was waiting for her with an envelope in his hand. “What does this mean, Alexis?”

George threw the envelope at her. When she opened it she saw a few pictures of her from a week ago, from the night she had told Drake about Abigail. They were hugging and kissing in the photos.

“Did you have me followed? How dare you!” Alexis was furious.

George took a step towards her. “How I dare? Me?” He grabbed her arm “You’re behaving like a whore but you think that it’s me who have to explain myself to you?” He yanked her arm.

“LET.HER.GO” Drake growled.

George laughed but freed her arm. “Prince Charming himself” He snickered. “Well, his best friend. This is a family matter, Walker. Leave.”

Drake ignored the ambassador. “Are you ok, Lexie?”

She knew Drake and she had to avoid a fight at all costs. “It’s fine, Drake. I’m fine. Really.”

“Good, baby. Go back inside.” He rolled his sleeves.

She didn’t move “Drake, please.”

Everything happened so fast that George didn’t have the time to react before he felt Drake’s fist connect with his jaw.

“You’re nothing but a piece of crap.” Drake grabbed him by his shoulder and gave him one, two, three punches in his stomach.

“You shouldn’t even be allowed to live, you piece of crap.” He slammed him against the wall. George was trying to defend himself, but the younger man was stronger and faster. “What asshole? If it’s not a defenseless woman you can’t fight?”

“Drake! Stop!” The music in the party was too loud but Maxwell and Rashad were close to the door and they had seen Drake beating the Ambassador. They both took him by his arms, using all their strength to pull him apart from George.

Drake tried to free himself. “Let me go! I‘m going to kill this motherfucker!”

George sat at the floor seething with fury. “You’ll pay for this Walker. I swear” He turned to Alexis. “Tell Constantine that I wasn’t feeling good. And you better keep your promise with Liam. Unless you prefer this filthy asshole to Abigail.”

Drake screamed at him. “Don’t you dare to threaten her”

Rashad got himself in the middle. “Come on, Drake. Let him go”

George stood up and limped away from them.

Drake looked at Alexis. Maxwell grabbed Rashad’s shoulder. “They need to talk, Rash. Let’s go back to the ballroom.”

Alexis was beyond furious. “Why!? Why do you have to do that!? Now he’ll have something against you too. I’m not only going to be worried about Abbie. I’ll be worried sick about you too, Drake.” Her eyes watered.

He cut the distance between them, there was nothing worst for him than seeing her crying. He cupped her face and cleaned her tears with his thumbs. “I can’t let it go, baby. I told you, no one would never put a finger on you, again. After the way he’s treated you he deserved that and much more. You know that.”

“I don’t fucking care about him, Drake. You don’t know how he is, what he’s capable of.” Alexis sobbed, terrified. “I can’t lose you.”

“He’s threatening his own daughter, Lexie. Believe me, I can imagine what he’s capable of. And I told you the other night, you will never lose me. I swear.” He kissed her lips tenderly.

She smiled through her tears, noticing his bloody knuckles. “Let’s go put some cold water on that”

Maxwell came out of the ballroom with a wet cloth. “I brought this for your hands, Drake. Lex, Liam is looking for you, he’s giving his engagement speech. You better come in first and alone” He threw an apologetic look at Drake.

Liam smiled as soon as he saw her coming through the door.

“There you are, love. Where’s your father? I wanted to give my speech now.”

“He wasn’t feeling well, Li. He won’t come back tonight so you can give the speech now.”

Liam looked at her suspiciously but didn’t reply.

He went to the top of the stairs with her. Maxwell nodded at the band on stage, so they’d announce Liam’s speech.

“Alexis and I are delighted, thrilled and honored to share our intentions for the rest of our days with you. Standing together in front of all the very special people in our lives to announce our engagement makes our private dreams public and, in a way, real. Thank you for being here, for your love and well wishes-”

Suddenly, the buzzing and noise of telephones beeping were all they could hear, but Liam made an attempt to ignore them.

“Alexis has made me the happiest man in the world. With her, by my side, I understand what the writer Francis Scott Fitzgerald meant when he said, ‘I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.’-”

He stopped talking, everyone had their eyes glued either on their phone or on Alexis. She searched Drake, he was seething looking at his phone too.

Finally, among a trail of whispers and gasps, Alexis and Liam reached Drake and Maxwell and grabbed their phones. Alexis saw her world collapsing when she read the article. It was entitled “An Affair to Remember” and was illustrated by some very suggestive photos of her and Tariq the night of her attack.

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In a corner of the ballroom, Leo Rhys smiled. Hakim’s plan was working perfectly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Kiara:

Please honey, You were really angry (...)

Hi! How is it going?

#drake walker #drake x mc #drakexmc #drake walker fanfic #trr #trr drake #trr fanfic

71 notes · View notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 4 years ago

Text

Friday 16 May 1834

7 5/..

12 ½

Fine – ready in an hour F57° at 8 5 - reading till 9 ½ from page 25 to 76, volume 24 British prose writers to the end of Horace Walpole’s Reminiscences. Letter from Mr Scotts’ book-keeper ‘GW. Ellis, 3 Dove street, near the Nunnery York’ to say Joseph had brought away his livery hardly worn at all and to beg me to desire him to send it back again - the poor lad brought it away in ignorance, never dreaming, as nobody said anything to him about it, that he ought to have given it back. Letter 3 pages from M- (Lawton) dated Thursday 8th inst and lastly last Tuesday night 13th instant – hoped to have heard from me – disappointed tho saying she had now no right to be so - and indeed ought not as she had neither asked me to write to her at Lawton, nor had I promised to do so - they arrived at Lawton on Tuesday 6th inst and were to leave there on Wednesday the 14th - writes to ask me to pay the ‘new servant James for a greatcoat Thomas had bought of him’- Found her scholars more stupid than formerly dined at Rode nothing interested her ‘Mary is not what she was or the same things would produce the same pleasures but it matters not’ ‘Time will do its best and worst, and after all is the short span of life worth a thought? A few short years and all is over and mine neither have given nor promise sufficient of comfort to induce a wish that they might be prolonged no one knows not, even you dearest Fred, what I have gone thro’ and at this moment I feel as little caring for the future of this world as if 24 hours would close my existence perhaps I should be thankful to know its duration was so limited – you, at least, I trust will be happy for you deserve to be so, and earnestly do I pray that it may be so’. And that those you love best may secure to you all the comfort necessary to your wishes for the present adieu then writes the more than half page of conclusion on Tuesday night Poor Mary how she has always marred her own happiness but how was it when I was so low two years ago she shewed no great pity for me. Breakfast in 20 minutes at 9 ½ wrote the above of today till 10 20 - some time out with Pickles and the rest -P- finished re-levelling the ground in front of the house before 12 and was at the railing in the afternoon with his 2 men. Had Joseph up twice for a good while about correcting his letter to Mr Ellis respecting the livery - had ½ hour’s nap. Wrote 3 pages and ends to M- as follows ‘Shibden Hall, Friday 16th May 1834. I have in this moment, my dearest Mary, received your letter dated lastly the 13th (Tuesday last) – three days from Lawton! These shews me, that my letter written on Sunday, and sent on Monday (the 12th) would reach Lawton a few hours after you were off. Surely it would be sent after you immediately and surely you have reached it ere this. Mary! I am very very sorry my pages were not with you at Lawton! - but they will convince you, you were not out of my thoughts, are not and are not likely to be – the more, my dearest Mary, I reflect upon the past, the more I am confounded at the appalling inconsistency of your conduct - that you should grieve so deeply over its consequences, is a heavy misfortune to us both. But this I can truly say, that whatever you may ‘have gone thro’ I can’t earnestly believe it to exceed the misery, the ruthless desolation of heart that fell upon myself – to me it was more sudden than the lightness glare - you had long warning – the storm came not but at your bidding, and from your own breast, sprang up the rock on which the hope of 20 years was wrecked. In pity and in common justice, remember this. Think too, that you can never have had one feeling of wounded pride to add its sting to all the rest. It was your own hand drew the card that sped the deadly shaft hope to the heart that had no shield but its affection Mary! Your aim did seem so coolly, so deliberately taken, the arrow scarce could miss her way. But no more - my regard is still perhaps worth having, and it will not be my fault if it does not serve you faithfully. For my sake, at least, take my advice this once more. Cheer up - rally round you those hopes that are scatted, rather than destroyed – let not your spirit turn coward but gather together your resources, calculate them fairly, manage them well – remember that you have a tried and steady friend who will help you to the uttermost, and, trust me, you have no need to despair of happiness even in this world. Despair is always a false calculation we can’t tell the good that may be in store for us and when our horizon seems lowest who knows that the brightest gleams of our existence are not at hand? Mary! I will do anything in the world I can for you - and surely it is my power to be a greater comfort to you than I can possibly have been, ever since the first moment when your mind became unsettled enough to entertain the 1st embryo thought of the now as it appears, strange resolve you came to, 2 years ago. But perhaps after all you were more right than you now believe. If all your tastes were indeed so changed as you told me, while mine as I honestly avowed, remained so nearly the same, how would it have answered to be still entirely dependent on each other? For you must not forget that, as the circumstance, which seems more particularly to tell you the secret of your own heart, would not then have occurred , you might still have been ignorant of it as ever, and I should not have had the strong advantage of being valued as at present. Mary! Is not this reasonable? You find travelling insupportable - you had other interest dearer than mine - you could not bear to leave Lawton - you even made a point of my promising to settle near there - and you, above all people, knew how I was situated towards my own place, where my family had lived between 2 and 3 centuries, I being the 15th possessor of my family and name. Mary! The spirit of my uncle started up before me and had my life been the sacrifice, idolatry must have yielded to honour. Mary! My dearest Mary, you thought of me too lowly then, as you think of me too highly now. Reflect upon these things - you will be happier by and by - you will trust my friendship regard implicitly and this will not be the least of the comforts that I firmly hope will attend us both – ask me to write, or to do anything. I do not feel as if I should ever disappoint you much - I have no feeling towards you but of affectionate regard and my greatest anxiety is for your welfare. But cheer up, Mary! Be comforted, my dearest Mary, if it be but for my sake. How my pen still lingers on this engrossing subject. I must answer the purport of your letter. James Clayton is no longer my servant - he came to me on the 24th ult. refused to wear Thomas’s livery - on the 26th and left me on the 28th sorry probably for his folly and not calculating that I should not retract the warning given at the moment. Mrs Williamson, Register Office for servants, Colliergate

SH:7/ML/E/17/0034

(I think it is) York, is the only person I know of likely to know anything about the man. You will see from my last, as far as I can tell at present, what I am going to be about - I shall probably be in York by 12 on Tuesday and off in an hour towards Richmond. In my aunt’s present state of health, I cannot be absent more than a week, I do not expect her surviving another winter - my father’s life, too, is very precarious, he had a very slight paralytic affection , more particularly in the left arm, 3 or 4 days ago - Marian’s attention to him is quite exemplary. Her feelings towards me seem altogether changed into what is most comfortable. God bless you my dearest Mary! You can’t possible doubt my regard and how much I am always very especially yours. A. Lister’ Writing out this letter has taken me from 3 25 to 4 10 = 1 ¼ hour. What will π- think of it I see three tears had fallen on her paper What a goose she has been surely she never thought of losing she played upon me too much the history of our acquaintance may be summed in accepted refused accepted married offended refused repented. Reading over my letter and dawdling till out at 4 ½ - with Marian in the garden - with Mallinson etc - dinner at 6 ½ then coffee and Marian was with me till after 8 - then sent off my letter to ‘Mrs Lawton, Claremont house, Leamington, Warwickshire’ and Joseph took to the post his letter to Mrs Ellis to say he should have the livery hat and all on Tuesday - from 8 ½ to 9 ½ in the fields looking at the new railing - 18 posts and railing there to belonging set this afternoon - and all would be finished tomorrow if we had the posts but we shall not have enough by 8 - 2 plasterers came this morning from Shaw’s, and cleared away the dirt and plaster ready for pointing west side of the house - talking to Marian till 10 1/4 . Is Northgate, or will it be, sold or not – tonight at 7 the sale was to being – I have not thought much about it even this evening and not all during day. My day was spent over my letter and my eyes stiffish with the tears that fell or stood big in my eyes This weakness is too foolish - 10 minutes with my aunt and came to my study at 10 25 and wrote the last 10 lines - raining fast - seemed to begin a few minutes ago - fine day tho’ dullish - very good for growing - my father does not like the idea of flower-beds, so the ground before the front window is to be all sown down with grass and clover - till 11 ½ read from page 79 to 99 Horace Walpole’s letters British prose writers vol. 24.

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ineffably-good · 4 years ago

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The First Heist Of The Rest Of Their Lives

I wrote this story for two different people -- first it was for @tlou15, who asked for a story about Aziraphale and Crowley finding one of their skulls from a prior incarnation. And then I also worked it around to cover the heist story I promised @lovermrjokerr for their 8k writing challenge, which I signed up to participate in two months ago! I’ m two days late posting my story for that challenge -- but I had to get through the rest of my May story prompts first! Too many irons in the fire, as they say!

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley come across a relic of one of their former corporations in a museum, and immediately realize they have to liberate it. Hijinks ensue.

______________________________

There were times when being an ethereal entity capable of dying and recorporating came back to bite you in the ass.

Over the years, Crowley and Aziraphale had become increasingly good at limiting their discorporations. It took a couple millennia of practice, however, to learn to recognize and avoid the obvious dangers in this new world of theirs. At first, the fatal accidents were more frequently and somewhat unexpected. A fall from a high cliff (demon), simply because neither of them knew that a fall could kill them. A rather unnecessary drowning (angel), simply because the entity in question didn’t know that failing to hold one’s breath underwater would result in death. A kick in the head from a large land ungulate (demon) with a grudge. A rather deep spear injury (angel) that could have simply been side stepped. The list went on and on.

Luckily, Above and Below were also somewhat more accommodating and liberal with the issuing of new bodies than they came to be in later years.

As time passed, they got to better at the protocols of losing a body, too. Go back to home base, fill out the paperwork (in triplicate, for hell, using a scratchy pencil whose point always broke off), be polite (in Heaven) or surly (in Hell) to the body clerk, and get a new one issued as quickly as possible. Make your way back to Earth and then go back and clean up the scene of the crime, so to speak, so you didn’t leave the remnants of an ethereally-issued skeleton around. Tidy up the memories of anyone involved in the incident, and reassume your old life if possible, or, if a funeral had already been held and too many people were involved, simply move on to a new location or assignment. It all worked out.

For the most part.

Being, as they were, two of the more lackadaisical, non-detail oriented entities ever stationed in this sphere, though, it was natural that here and there a few of the details got missed.

Which is what led to the two of them, standing in front of an exhibit in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

“Is that…” Crowley muttered.

“No, it couldn’t possibly be…” Aziraphale said under his breath.

“I’m fairly certain it is…”

“Oh, dear lord,” Aziraphale breathed. “Yes, that’s one of mine!”

In front of them, an exhibit on the Mayans did an admirable job showcasing their culture and achievements, dispelling the pervasive myths of human sacrifice, and above all showing a recreation of a temple display used to honor their dead. By punching holes in each side of a series of skulls and stringing them on a pole, like beads, to be displayed and revered.

And right smack in the center, oddly devoid of the same signs of aging and decay as the ones around it, was a brilliant white skull that bore more than a passing resemblance to the man staring at it in horror through the glass. To the human observers, it just appeared oddly pristine. But to Crowley and Aziraphale and any other ethereal entity who bothered to take a look, it was pulsing with remnants of celestial energy.

Crowley dissolved in laughter. This earned him a stern glare from the angel.

“What?” he said, snorting. “Your skull is hanging like a pendant on a stick in the Natural History Museum and I can’t laugh? How could you just leave one of your skulls laying around in – in what? Peru? Where did this come from?”

Aziraphale sniffed. “Mexico, I believe. I spent some time there, in San Lorenzo, the first Olmec capital.”

“You did?” Crowley asked. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“We weren’t speaking at the time,” Aziraphale said. “Remember that big fight we had in Persia?”

“Oh, that…” Even after several thousand years, Crowley still managed to sound vaguely resentful. “You mean when you clocked me unconscious with your fist?”

“You hit me first!”

“Not the same, and you know it,” Crowley sulked. Being hit by a snake demon who was not bred for fighting was nothing like being punched in the jaw by the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. It was like being hit by a locomotive – although the comparison wouldn’t come to him for a few thousand years.

Aziraphale glanced over at him, taking in the sulky look on the demon’s face. “Oh, come now, my dear,” he pouted. “We’ve long sense settled that particular kerfuffle. I apologized multiple times, didn’t I?”

Crowley mouthed the word ‘kerfuffle’ to himself with a grin. “I suppose we did, yes.” He stepped over a few feet and read the long and detailed card about the skulls in front of them. “Oh angel, listen to this.”

He read from the placard:

Called a tzompantli by the Mayans, these ritual displays were believed to be used to showcase were originally thought to be a grotesque display of slain enemies, placed to rally the Mayan’s support for their leaders and to serve as a warning sign to others to stay away from Mayan territory. Although rumors have abounded about human sacrifice in Mayan culture, recent evidence reveals that these displays may have been more funerary in usage, highlighting the revered ancestors and that many of these skulls shows signs of being dead long before the post-holes were cut in them.

“How, pray tell, did you become one of the honored dead for the Mayans?” Crowley said, grinning. “Or were you actually sacrificed at one of their temples? Drowned in a cenote?”

Aziraphale frowned. “That’s a story for another time, my dear.”

“Oh, but I haven’t even gotten to the good bit. The part where they talk about the gleaming white skull in the center and how it shows signs of having been treated with some unknown and lost technology that made it ‘impervious to decay’.” Crowley chortled.

“I really should find a way to remove it from the display,” Aziraphale fretted. “Before someone decides to take a closer look at it under one of those – scanning microscope thingies they have now and discovers it doesn’t appear to be fully human. Or before one of the archangels finds out about it…”

“Ha!” Crowley shouted. “Imagine the uproar. Evidence of ancient aliens discovered in Smithsonian Museum! The chaos around the world!”

Aziraphale turned fully towards Crowley and looked menacing in the way that only he could. “Whatever foolish idea you’re forming right now for mischief,” he said warningly, “I absolutely forbid it!”

“Aw, angel,” Crowley whined. “Come on, I never get to have any fun.”

“You can have some fun by helping me pilfer this exhibit once the museum is closed tonight,” Aziraphale said. “I do believe the security here is rather prodigious.”

“You intend to rob the museum on our vacation?” Crowley asked, astonished. “You could just… you know… miracle the skull out, replace it with a duplicate.”

Aziraphale studied the exhibit for a long slow moment, considering, then turned and settled a blinding grin on his demon spouse. “I could,” he drawled, “but where would the fun be in that?”

Crowley felt a warm rush of something run through him. Love? Joy? Slight anxiety? Who knew. All he knew was the angel was quite possibly the most perfect thing on the entire Earth. No, in the galaxy. Quite possibly the galactic cluster.

“So,” the angel continued. “Are you in or out?”

“I’m in,” Crowley managed to croak, through his haze of feelings. “I’m so in.”

Aziraphale rewarded him with a peck on the cheek, then offered his arm to the demon and shepherded him down to the café, murmuring something about having heard they had the loveliest cakes here. Time to do a little planning, and what better way then over a little dessert?

They hunkered down in the museum’s café, over a gaudy orange tray that held two lovely napoleons and two cups of a rather poor excuse for tea, and started making plans.

Aziraphale surveyed the room around them. “We could just – you know, hide somewhere until everything is closed tonight. Saves breaking in.”

Crowley took a sip of his tea, made a disgusted face, and nodded neutrally. “We could, of course. That’d be the sensible thing to do.” He took a smaller sip. “Or, we could really go for it. Assemble a crack team, get some tech, do that thing with carabiners and cables.” He mimes a Tom Cruise, Mission Impossible style, arms-out float down from the ceiling and manages to convey that he would also be holding a knife in his teeth at the same time.

Aziraphale smiles, noncomittally. “Well that does sound exciting, my dear. But I can’t quite imagine that we have time to set that all up by tonight. And I do think we ought to get my skull out of there as soon as possible. It could hardly be a coincidence, don’t you think, our running into it here today?”

Crowley frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, just that we have a way of stumbling onto things at exactly the right moment,” the angel said. “Who’s to say that if we put the recovery off for a week, we wouldn’t somehow have Gabriel leading a team of school children through here tomorrow for some reason and discovering it, or some stupid Earth magician about to steal it for his own magical purposes?”

Crowley blinked at him. “You’re saying it’s fate that we came here today and that we’re not meant to leave without the skull? It’s not Armageddon, angel.”

Aziraphale took a bite of his napoleon and then delicately tapped the edges of his mouth with the napkin. “Well,” he said, leaning forward. “Doesn’t it feel a bit urgent to you? I mean, underneath it all?”

Crowley had to admit, the angel had a point.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “No tech. Can we at least synch our watches or something?”

Aziraphale stared at him flatly for a moment and then pulled out his ancient pocket watch, complete with chain. “If we must.”

Crowley grinned.

It was funny, Crowley thought, that it was Aziraphale who insisted that they be appropriately attired for their heist. They’d hidden themselves away in a maintenance wing close to the Mayan exhibit, and Aziraphale had first used a miracle to suit them both up in black, skin tight cat-burglar type outfits, then another miracle to cover those up with maintenance worker uniforms and caps which made them fit right in so that no one would give them a second look.

“Stop fidgeting with your coveralls, Crowley!” the angel hissed, handing him a push broom. “You look very suspicious. Now get out there and let’s figure out where all of the cameras are.”

It was nearly closing time, and no one noticed anything awry when they wheeled their carts out into the Mayan area and began putting up bright yellow “Wet Floor” signs and started sweeping up the debris of the day. A quick, small miracle made them completely unnoticeable to the other maintenance staff – just two ordinary guys, no different than the guys they saw every day working this area, obviously well underway on their evening chores and with no need of any further supervision.

Soon enough, the building was closed and even the maintenance staff was putting away their equipment and getting ready to leave through the service entrance, leaving the building in the hands of the security staff. Crowley and Aziraphale made themselves scarce in a storage closet, until all the sounds in the building had ceased. Then they took off their coveralls and headed out to the exhibit in their dark-colored gear.

A quick miracle took care of the cameras, shifting them just slightly so that they showed everything except the skulls display. After that, they stood in front of the glass case, examining it closely.

Aziraphale rolled his shoulders. “Shall I just dissemble the case, then?” he asked quietly, reaching up to place his hands on either corner of the front panel.

“No!” Crowley all but shrieked. “Stop. Look, there’s a laser, right there.” He pointed at a small blue light that was shining on the edge of the glass door, just above the lock. “Clearly if the door is opened and the light beam gets interrupted, an alarm will go off. Don’t you watch movies, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale dropped his hands and stepped back. “Not unless you make me, no. So, what do we do about this laser?”

Crowley thought for a minute. What would James Bond do? Shoot someone and kiss a girl, probably. He failed to see how either was helpful at this point in the process. And if he was kissing anyone, it was going to be the angel, and he had that activity slated for quite a bit later in the evening. He sighed. What was the world coming to when even James Bond couldn’t provide insight?

Aziraphale looked at him, a little worried, and that spurred him into action. Crowley held out his pointer finger and concentrated until a demonic claw sprang into existence where his fingernail should be. He sharpened it, made it harder, and whittled it down to a fine, fine point.

“Stand back, angel,” he said. “If we can’t open the door without setting off the laser alarm, we’re just going to go in above that.”

And feeling just like every bad-ass heist hero he’d ever watched in a movie, he started carving a large circular hole in the glass case in front of him. This normally wouldn’t work on the specialized shatter-proof glass that the museum used, but the one thing the special chemistry of the glass wasn’t prepared to repel was demonic intention. It cut before him like butter, silently and gently, until a large, 12” circle of glass fell loose in his other hand.

Crowley turned and handed the removed glass circle to Aziraphale, who carefully put it on the floor and gave the demon a bright smile.

“Oh, that was very nice, dear,” he whispered. “Very slick.”

“Now,” Crowley said, aware he was showing off a little bit, “we just reach in there and remove your skull from the pole –”

He stuck his hand through and then froze as several things happened at once.

One, a large alarm started blaring.

Two, they both suddenly realized that the skull was affixed to the horizontal pole through both sides of the brainpan, and that they could neither straight-out remove it nor could they slide it off the pole because of the number of other skulls hanging from the same pole on either side of it.

Three, a huge puff of some kind of gas came shooting out of the display case, hitting Crowley directly in the eyes. He dropped to the floor like a stone.

Aziraphale, having a slight second more warning than Crowley did, immediately stopped breathing, picked up his demon, and bent time and space to manifest them both back to their hotel. He put the demon down on the bed, covered him up, ensured he was breathing, and then realized he’d forgotten the skull.

“Oh FUCK,” he exclaimed, using the word for what was only the third time in his life. He snapped again, miracling himself back to the scene of the crime, and used magic to remove the central skull (and a portion of the pole with it) from the display. He had just raised a hand to disappear himself home when three security guards with guns drawn came running into the room.

“Freeze!” the shouted, their flashlight beams playing over him. “Hands up and turn around!”

Aziraphale turned slowly. “I can’t put my hands up, as you can see --” he called out in his most soothing voice, blinking through the blinding beams of light to try to see who he was dealing with, “-- because I am holding a rather priceless artifact. Please stay calm.”

He heard the safety on a gun click off and did his best to raise both hands and the pole with it over his head. The skull – his skull, disturbingly – rattled ominously as he did so. This was most offputting, he thought.

“Kneel!” the frontmost officer shouted, and Aziraphale sighed and rolled his eyes at the absurdity of all of this, but did so, carefully balancing the – his – skull overhead the whole time.

“Really, gentlemen,” he said quietly, using a tad of angelic influence. “We can talk this out. No need for those weapons.”

“You can talk it out with the police,” the front man said. “Lay down the artifact in front of you VERY SLOWLY.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m so sorry, but I’m rather afraid I can’t do that. You see this skull is nearly three thousand years old and if it touches the ground it might disintegrate.”

“Lay it down, NOW!” the man screamed, and Aziraphale suddenly noticed a couple of red laser sight dots playing about on his chest. This, he decided was getting much too serious.

Oh botheration. He usually left this kind of manipulation to Crowley to carry out – he was so much better at it. Nonetheless, Crowley was home and unconscious and possibly injured, and he wasn’t helping anyone by allowing himself to be shot or captured, and there was no way it was going to get back to heaven that he had been arrested – and for BURGLARY! – so with a deep, dejected sigh, he conjured up his powers and sent a wave of gentle but unavoidable exhortation and watched as all three men froze in place.

He slowly made his way to his feet, cradling the skull to his chest with one arm, and walked over to the exhibit, where he created and inserted an identical but non-ethereal copy of the skull and pole he’d removed, replaced and repaired the glass, and turned off the alarm. He checked the cameras to ensure that they were all still off. They were. And finally, he walked over to the armed men and gently touched each of them on the temple, one after the other.

“You will not remember the events of the last fifteen minutes,” he said, poking around the tiniest bit to ensure that this was true. “You will wake in a few minutes, after having a lovely dream about whatever you like best.”

And with that done, he returned to the hotel to tend to his demon.

Crowley woke up a few hours later, groggy and confused. “Angel?” he shouted, leaning up to look frantically around the room. “Angel?”

“Hush, dearest, I’m here,” Aziraphale said, sitting down on the bed beside him.

“What happened?”

“Oh, well,” the angel said. “We got interrupted. You set off a second alarm when you reached into the case and were sprayed with some gas that essentially knocked you out for a few hours. I brought you home and then went back for the skull.”

Crowley moaned and flopped his head back down on the pillow. “You mean – I missed everything? You went back without me? Angel, how could you?”

“You were unconscious, my dear,” the angel said reasonably. “And it wasn’t so hard. I removed the skull, put in a duplicate, wiped the memories of the three security guards who were thinking about shooting me, and popped back home, quick as a jiffy. No harm done.”

“Three men with guns?” Crowley said, looking suddenly very alert. “You went back alone to face three Americans with guns? You know how they are, angel.”

Aziraphale tutted. “Well in my defense, there were no men with guns when I left, so they were a bit of a surprise. However, I assure you that I was never in any danger. I turned their bullets to marshmallows as soon as they entered the room.”

“Marshmallows,” said Crowley flatly. “Really?”

“What’s wrong with that?” the angel asked, a tad indignantly. “I thought it was a rather nice solution to the problem.”

“Not very criminal of you,” Crowley muttered. He looked, the angel thought, jealous and pouty.

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish the heist with me, my dear. It would have gone so much more smoothly if you were there.”

“’m good at heists,” Crowley mumbled.

“The very best,” Aziraphale said, wondering if he was laying it on too thick. “Definitely as good as anyone in the Bond films.”

“Only as good?” the demon said, with the hint of a smile.

“Oh, definitely better than some,” Aziraphale replied. “I’d say you’re head and shoulders above Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, and Pierce Brosnan.”

The demon preened a little, although he was clearly trying to hide it. “And Sean Connery?” he asked.

“Hrm,” the angel said, consideringly. “I’d say you’d give him a good run for his money.”

Crowley sat up more fully, looking much more like himself. “And let’s not even start on Daniel Craig,” he said. “Hey, do you think the hotel television has movie channels? Maybe we can find a couple Bond films to watch before we eat dinner.”

“Might be wise of us to lay low tonight,” the angel said. “After all you were injured and we did just break into the Smithsonian. Perhaps we’ll order room service instead of going out.”

“Dinner and a movie?” Crowley said.

“That sounds just lovely.”

In the corner, in a duffel bag, a blindingly white skull with two large holes in it just above the ear canal sat quietly, a piece of ancient wood tucked carefully in beneath it. They’d take it back to London, Aziraphale had decided, and find some way to dispose of it there, or simply lock it up in one of Anathema’s spell-guarded chests if they couldn’t destroy it. It could take up a new life beneath the floorboards of the bookshop, somewhere where no one could find it or use it to cause them any trouble.

They were safe as houses, Aziraphale thought, problem averted. But just in case, he carefully warded the doors and windows as soon as dinner had been delivered so that no one could enter or leave for the rest of the night.

You could never be too careful.

#lovermrjokerr8kchallenge #good omens #good omens fanfiction #Aziraphale x Crowley #ineffable idiots #heist stories

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taeken-my-heart · 5 years ago

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Moirai Chapter 6

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 4557

Notes: There is a read more placed after the first paragraph, but we all know tumblr is weird so if it doesn’t show up I’m sorry :(

-- This is the chapter that really gets things rolling, so be prepared for some angst over the next few chapters. You have been warned!

****

It had been two weeks straight now since Ella had spent her evenings at Jungkook’s house. To say it’s been weird, would be an understatement. He wasn’t even tutoring her or anything, they were just…hanging out.

Most nights your mom made you go too. She insisted since Ella was already going, it would be convenient if you both went, that way you could do your tutoring there and just get it out of the way. You suspected it was just so your parents could have what they liked to call “special bonding time.”

Gross.

You sighed, staring down at your phone as it went straight to voicemail again. Thumb hovering over the red end call button, you listened for the beep of the answering machine before ending the call and throwing your head back against the couch.

“Still didn’t answer?” Ella asked from her place across the room, hand locked with Jungkook’s in a thumb wrestling championship. Winner got to eat the last breadstick from the pizza you’d ordered. Whatever.

“He’s just busy is all,” you sniffed, picking at your fingernails.

“Totally,” Jungkook nodded, “beginning of the semester can be pretty busy, I’ve heard.”

You appreciated the effort, but everyone knew that was a bald-faced lie. The beginning of the year was always the least busy while things were settling in. No homework or tests because you hadn’t learned anything yet. You chewed on the inside of your lip, pulling your homework back into your lap, choosing to ignore their peering eyes and they eventually went back to their battle.

Your thoughts were racing, though. It had only been two weeks since Lucas had gone back to school and for the last three days, you’d barely heard anything from him. An odd text here or there is all you’d gotten and you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe he’d found a girl at his school that was way more interesting than you. Someone that he could talk to about more mature things, like economics.

You were still in high school, after all, and frankly you didn’t even know what economics meant. Your aunt studied it in college, though, so you could probably ask her to get you up to speed if needed.

All the words in your text book were running together, but this assignment was due tomorrow and you only had a little bit left. It was frustrating that you couldn’t keep focused, especially now that Ella was cheering loudly in the background and grabbing the last bread stick.

You watched as she broke it in half and offered a piece to Jungkook who accepted with a thank you and a goofy smile. You missed Lucas.

“Don’t stress so much.” Ella said, coming to sit beside you, taking a bite of her bread. “I’m sure he’s just busy with assignments. He’ll probably call you tomorrow and tell you you’re being silly for worrying so much.”

“I’m not stressed,” you insisted, though the strain in your voice was anything but convincing. “I just hope he’s not overworking himself is all.”

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” Jungkook asked and you sighed, shaking your head.

“No, I should probably go home and finish my homework.” You stood, stuffing your books in your bag and tugging it over your shoulder. “You coming Ella?”

“I’ll be home a little later, Jungkook said he was gonna show me how to level up my character on Fortnite.”

“Have fun, nerd.” You nodded, making your way to the front door and out into the evening. It was colder now, the seasons slowly turning and creating a need for a jacket that you’d foolishly left at home. Thankfully, you only lived five houses down the road.

When you reached home your phone vibrated with a call and you quickly answered as soon as you saw Lucas’ name on the screen. “Hey!” You gasped, flinging your bag onto your bed and sitting down with a bounce. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s been a little hectic recently. My roommate was right, my professor did assign a project with partners on the very first day. We actually just met up to start talking about what we want to do for our project; that’s why I didn’t answer your call.”

“Totally understand,” you nodded, as though he could see you. “How have you been? Aside from busy.”

“I’m OK, classes this semester seem like they’re going to be interesting. There are more people on campus this semester; I think they accepted more than they usually do. I guess it makes sense, they built a few new apartment complexes that they needed to fill.”

“It sounds exciting,” you murmured, laying back against your pillows, “I can’t wait for college. It’ll be nice to be a little more independent.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s definitely nice. Will you have a car when you get to college, though? That makes the experience even better.”

You hum in thought, staring up at your ceiling. “I don’t know, actually. It’s not like I’ve got a job right now so I can’t really afford one. I’ll probably just end up walking or taking the bus or something.”

“My roommate has a car; it’s awesome. He can go anywhere, there’s no limits. Honestly, that’s one of the best things about being an adult.”

“It sounds really nice; like freedom.”

“In some ways,” he chuckled, “in some ways adulthood is freedom and in others it’s more like prison.”

You spent the rest of the night talking until eventually you fell asleep, phone still cradled on your shoulder. Your neck was sore with a crick the next morning and you felt gross and uncomfortable. You’d fallen asleep without changing or brushing your teeth so you quickly took a shower and brushed your teeth, finally feeling more human.

Your family was already downstairs in the kitchen when you made your way into the room, slinging your backpack over the edge of your chair and sitting down. “Morning!” Your mother smiled, handing you a plate and you started piling breakfast on top. “Can you believe Jungkook is 18 tomorrow? That means he will get his mark! I wonder who she is. Not much longer now and it’ll be your turn.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, slouching in your chair.

“What if no mark appeared at all?” Ella giggled and your mom smacked her arm lightly.

“Impossible, that’s never happened before in the history of the world.”

You shrugged, taking a bite of your food, “I don’t really mind not having my life dictated.”

Your mother sighed, giving your father a look and he straightened his tie with fidgety fingers. “Look, Y/N, it’s not dictation. The universe puts you with someone that would make you the happiest but it’s always up to you if you want to follow that path, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, what if the universe puts me with someone I end up hating?”

“Not possible,” he shook his head, “it works with compatibility and personality. You’d never be put with someone who doesn’t compliment you.”

“Look, you know this topic bothers me, I’d really rather not talk about it. Having some person’s name appear on my wrist isn’t going to change anything so can we not discuss this anymore?”

Your father sighed, shifting his eyes to your mother and nodding his head sullenly. “Well we’re getting some really great pictures for yearbook!” Ella smiled. “Jacob took some awesome pictures at the pep rally last week and I’ve been assigned to take some pictures of this weekend’s football game.”

“That’s great!” Your mother smiled, “Should we be going to the game?”

“You can if you want to, I don’t know if anyone you know will be playing, though.”

“That’s OK, we could just go for fun.”

Conversation diverged into other topics that were much less uncomfortable and the rest of breakfast was spent in lively conversation about which marvel character was the best.

****

On the drive to school, you shuffled through your list of to do’s and noted another English assignment you’d need help on. Sighing, you resigned yourself to asking for Jungkook’s help again. The morning was significantly colder than before and you huffed, wrapping yourself warm in a jacket and pulling your bag over your shoulder with a thanks to your mother before heading to the school doors. In the warmer months most of the students were out in the courtyard talking until the 10-minute bell rang, but now most people were congregated in the hallways and that made it difficult to navigate through the crowds to Jungkook’s locker.

You could see his scruff of hair over the tops of nearby heads and you pushed your way through gingerly before you were standing beside him and tapping his shoulder. “Hey.”

He turned to look at you, pulling an earbud from his ear and greeting you with a smile. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got that assignment coming up in English and I was hoping you could help me.”

“Oh yeah, totally. Let’s plan for tomorrow after school. If you could remind me in the morning, that would be great, just in case I forget.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, turning your body to walk away. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

****

“I’m positive they’re trying to poison us.” Noelle pouted, slamming her lunch tray on the table and you cast your gaze up towards her, watching as she sat down. “What even is this? Mystery meat?”

“I thought it was meatloaf.” Lillian said, peering over her own lunch bag and into the tray of her friend.

“Supposedly.”

“Well, this is why I bring my own lunch.” Lillian smiled and Noelle scoffed.

“You bring your own lunch because you’re vegan and the last time this school sold anything that resembled a vegetable was when the first lady was doing her healthy school lunch initiative.”

“True.” Lillian nodded, taking another bite of her pasta. “I do get lunch here sometimes, when they’ve got spaghetti or something.”

“I’d give anything for spaghetti right now.” Noelle complained, stabbing the foreign substance on her tray with distain.

“So, are you guys going to Jungkook’s birthday party?” You asked, taking a bite of your salad. Noelle’s mystery meat was exactly why you too brought your own lunch.

“That’s tonight, right?” Lillian asked, opening a small Tupperware full of strawberries. You nodded and she bit off the tip of one bright red berry. Your mouth salivated at the image. “Yeah, I was planning on it. You?”

“Yeah,” you moped, “I think my mom would kill me if I didn’t. Plus, he and my sister have been getting really close recently, which is super weird, by the way, and apparently, I have to be her chaperone for her first “real” party. Whatever that means. It’s not like there will even be alcohol. His parents are gonna be there!”

“Don’t be a party pooper.” Noelle scolded. “We’re gonna go and we’re gonna have fun.”

“I’m not opposed to fun, I’m just unsure if Jungkook and fun exist in the same sentence.” You replied, incensed.

“Ha.Ha.” Noelle deadpanned and you huffed at your friend. “Stop complaining, it’s gonna be a good time. It’s not like it’s gonna only be the 5 of us, there will be tons of other people there, too. He’s popular, remember?”

“Yeah, if only I could forget. They might just give him his very own float in the spring parade, that’s how obsessed people are with him. Get a life, am I right?”

Lillian shrugged, “I don’t know, he’d look pretty great on a float.”

“Ew, self-respect, Lil. Where is it?”

“Anyway,” Lillian shrugged, turning away from your judgmental glare, “I think it will be a cool party and I’m ready to dance!”

You watched as Ella walked into the room with Jungkook and Rachel, going to sit with them at their table, Rachel holding possessively onto Jungkook’s arm and you scoffed. You’d never understand why your sister wanted to be part of that crowd.

****

Jungkook’s house was lively with people, all faces you recognized from school but never bothered to socialize with. You ran in different circles and you often felt like you had nothing in common. They only talked about surface level things, not that there was anything wrong with that, you just preferred a little deeper connection.

Neither Lillian or Noelle had arrived yet, so you stayed with Ella as she walked around the room, talking with and greeting people you never realized she knew. Your sister was more of a social butterfly than you’d ever thought. You weren’t sure why it was so surprising, her personality in general was outgoing and friendly; prime candidate for popularity.

You both accepted drinks from Jungkook’s mom, thanking her softly as she pointed you in the direction of her son who was sitting in the living room, surrounded by a group of his friends. Ella took the lead, guiding the two of you bravely into the center of the fray and you cringed internally as she pulled you with her right up to where Jungkook was sitting.

“Jungkook!” She called, smile bright, and he looked up at her, a grin peeling brightly across his face as he stood.

“Ella, I’m glad you could come!” He said, hugging her quickly and you watched as Rachel frowned from her seat on the couch. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could come too.”

“Sure.” You nodded, sipping at your drink. There were too many people in the room and someone bumped into you from behind with a laugh and a quick apology.

“You guys have already met Rachel and Dean. This is Allison, Elisha, and Michael.” He said, pointing out the friends in his little circle and you nodded at each in turn. Rachel, Allison, and Elisha were all on the cheerleading team together while both Dean and Michael played football. It was surprising that Jungkook and the rest of the group had even become friends since he played soccer, but you supposed good looking people just flocked together.

“I love your dress,” Allison smiled, directing her gaze to Ella who grinned, smoothing down the edges, head bowed. “It’s so summery.”

“Thanks!” Ella chirped. “It’s my way of protesting the change of seasons. Kind of too cold to be wearing a dress now, but whatever.”

“I’m a big fan of baggy sweaters and leggings myself.” Elisha said and Allison nodded back at her wildly.

“Yes! And pumpkin spice lattes!”

“Girl, stop, you’re totally right!”

You watched them continue their conversation, sipping quietly at your drink as Ella talked animatedly with them about fall colors and aesthetic pictures and you sighed. It wasn’t that those were things you weren’t interested in, you just thought maybe you’d talk about something more interesting. Then again, deep conversations never happened with strangers.

“You ok?” Jungkook asked softly, coming up beside you and you looked over at him. He was taller than you, but not overwhelmingly so and you looked up into the fluttering lashes that framed his dark eyes. He was being nicer than normal, which was strange, but then you supposed he really was taking the truce seriously. Either that or Ella had somehow softened him up.

“Yeah,” you responded, looking back down at your drink, “just not really the “partying” type.”

“Then just think of it as a hang out.” He smiled. “I know you don’t really know anyone here that well, but I could introduce you to some people, if you want.”

“I’m not really sure I’d have much in common with people here.” You said and he shook his head at you.

“Why? Because they’re popular? Jocks, cheerleaders? Are you being judgmental, Y/N?” He teased and you pouted up at him.

“No!” You insisted, “I just mean that we don’t really have the same interests so conversation would be kind of difficult.”

“Well how do you know if you have things in common or not if you don’t ask?” He replied, eyebrow raised and you huffed.

“Keep your logic to yourself, Jeon.”

Jungkook chuckled, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Come on, let me introduce you. I’m sure Noelle and Lillian with be here soon, but in the meantime, there’s got to be some people here you can have a conversation with.”

“I don’t really want to abandon Ella.” You said and Jungkook gave you a look, switching his gaze to her and back to you.

“You can’t be serious.”

Ella was talking animatedly with both Allison and Elisha and you sighed, shrugging. “Well fine, she doesn’t really need any looking after. I really don’t mind being that person who stands next to the snack table and drowns their sorrows in junk food, Jungkook. Besides, like you said, Lil and Noelle should be here soon and then I’ll have someone to talk to.”

“Well, let me come with you at least.” He said and you shrugged again.

“It’s a free country.”

He followed you to the table where you grabbed a small plate, searching through the different snack options that you could munch on.

“So, tomorrow’s a big day.” You said absentmindedly, grabbing a carrot and dipping it before popping it in your mouth; crunching loudly.

Jungkook nodded, rubbing at his wrist. “Yeah, kind of crazy. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and everything will be different.”

“And completely the same.” You said, looking over at him and he huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What if you know the person whose name appears?” You ask, grabbing a twinkie and putting it on your plate. Jungkook wrinkled his nose at you.

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll talk to them are something. Are you really going to eat that?”

“Hey, don’t judge me, it was on your table.” You replied tartly.

“Yeah, but my mom bought it, not me. I actually have taste.”

“Oh-ho.” You chuckled, “I should tell her you said that.”

“Don’t!” He chuckled, grabbing your forearm, “she’ll probably actually kill me.” He released his grip on you and you grabbed a snap pea from the serving dish, chewing on it absentmindedly.

“Are you still excited to find out the name?”

Jungkook’s lips pursed in thought, hands stuffed in his jeans. “Yeah, nervous too, though. When will I meet her?”

“Well, maybe you already have.” You said, finishing off your bite.

“Nah,” he waved his hand in the air, glancing away, “I’ve never had the pull so I doubt I’ve met her.”

You shrugged before noticing Noelle walking through the front door, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. “Oh!” You smiled, walking towards her, “you made it. Thank goodness, I thought I was gonna have to talk to Jungkook the whole night.”

“Not really a punishment,” she smiled, watching as Jungkook made his way back to the couch to sit with his friends. “He’s looking particularly gorgeous today. Hot damn. So, did he already get his soulmate tattoo?”

“No, he’ll get that at midnight. His birthday is tomorrow.”

She nodded idly, snagging a piece of cucumber from your plate and crunching loudly. “How’s the party?”

“It’s fine. Don’t really know anyone here, to be honest.”

“I see a few people from my drama class; let’s go say hi!”

You followed after, allowing Noelle to introduce you to some of her other friends. It was weird because, aside from Lillian and Noelle, you couldn’t really say you had other friends. You could have totally met other people if you’d wanted to, you’d just never tried. You wondered idly if that was good or bad.

“So, what do you do for fun?” A girl named Rha asked and you quickly chewed your abnormally large bite of twinky to answer.

“Uh, I normally hang out with friends. Sometimes I’ll draw a little. I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun to do. I also really like to watch dumb Youtube videos.”

“Me too!” Rha grinned, “anytime I can just kind of turn my brain off and veg out is nice. What’s your favorite channel to watch?”

“I really like watching food videos,” you chuckled. “Especially when I’m hungry. Apparently, I’m a bit of a masochist.” The group laughed and you continued, “my favorites are probably BuzzFeed. I like watching videos of people cooking cool foods.”

“Like the test kitchen?”

“Yeah!” You grinned, “did you see the starburst episode?”

Rha laughed loudly, grabbing at her knee as she leaned forward, “Yes! I always feel so bad for Claire! She has to do the most difficult things. I’m also super envious, though. I want to work in a test kitchen myself. My mom works in one and I’ve always thought it was so cool, so watching Claire is like a reminder of what I want to do myself.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve never met anyone who wants to work in a test kitchen before!”

“Neither have I.” Rha giggled. “Who knows, maybe someday I’ll work with Claire.”

“Well if you do, don’t forget the little people.” Noelle teased.

An hour later the house was nearly bursting at the seams with people. You glanced around the room trying to spot your sister only to see her sat with Jungkook and his friends in the corner, leaned into him, hand on his knee as he whispered something in her ear.

If Rachel could see the two of them, she’d probably throw a massive fit, but as it was, you couldn’t see her anywhere. Most of Jungkook’s close friends had dispersed around the room, in fact, so it was just him and Ella sitting together talking. You could only imagine she would die of happiness from this.

You chuckled, turning back to the conversation your friends were still having as Rha announced loudly that she was thirsty and asking if she could grab anyone anything to drink. The number of drinks was more than she could carry, so you offered to help her, leading her to the kitchen where the Jeon’s were both talking at the table, filling cups with punch for the people milling around them.

“Y/N! You having fun?” Jieun called as you made your way towards her and you smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, I’ve actually met some cool new people. This is Rha, Rha, these are Jungkook’s parents.”

“So nice to meet you!” Rha smiled, extending her hand to both of them, “thank you so much for having us all over.”

“We’re so glad you could come over to celebrate our boy with us.” Jieun smiled, “tomorrow is a huge day so we’re glad he could have all his friends around him for support.”

“It’s pretty life changing!” Rha enthused, accepting the cup Jungkook’s dad handed her with a thank you. “I actually had my 18th birthday last month.” She said, extending her arm and you noticed, for the first time, the freshly emblazoned name in her skin.

“Oh wow,” you said, turning towards her. The room filled with more people and conversation so you spoke louder to be heard, “I’ve never actually met anyone in our grade who had gotten their name. Did it hurt?”

“Well, I got it in the middle of the night when I was asleep, so I didn’t notice it at first, but it was a little sore for about a week after I got it. Nothing really bad, just a little tender.” She said, pushing her long dark hair behind her ear.

“Do you know the person?” You asked, curiosity peaked. You weren’t particularly interested in the whole soulmate thing in general, but you couldn’t deny that it was a little interesting hearing it from someone your age who’d just gotten their own soulmate mark.

Rha shook her head, “nope. I guess I’m in for an adventure!”

“That you are!” Mr. Jeon chuckled. “Anyway, you guys should get back to the party, go enjoy yourselves!”

“We actually need 4 more drinks for our friends.” You smiled and the two of them quickly filled 4 more cups, handing them off to you and waving you away.

You spent the rest of the evening chatting with Lillian, Noelle, and Rha, meeting a few other members of the drama club, before your mom texted you, requesting that you and your sister return home, it was a school night, after all.

****

The next morning you walked to school. Your mother wasn’t feeling well so you and Ella dressed warm and made your way out into the cool autumn morning.

“Last night was so cool,” Ella sighed dreamily, “Jungkook and I just hung out for hours and talked and it was so awesome. I think he might like me.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, lips tightening to stop your giggle, “OK, don’t be silly, he has a girlfriend and you know that.”

Ella shrugged, biting her bottom lip, “I don’t know, they got in a big fight and went outside to talk and when he came back in, he said she went home.”

“That’s doesn’t mean anything, Ella. Sometimes people fight and just need to cool off.”

Ella huffed, tightening the belt around her jacket. “Stop being such a wet blanket, can’t you just be happy for me?”

“What’s there to be happy about?” You asked, eyebrows rising, “happy that Jungkook’s been friendlier to you recently? Happy that you guys are better friends? It’s not like anything happened, and if something did happen, I’ll kill him because he has a girlfriend and you’re not gonna be the other girl!”

Ella sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “Calm down, nothing happened, you know he’s not like that. He’d never do something so gross. I’m just saying, he’s been friendlier than normal and kind of flirty. I think he might be starting to like me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, that’s all I’m saying.” You muttered, staring at the school as it grew larger the closer the two of you walked towards it.

“What if he did pursue me? Would you be OK with that or would you be a mega bitch to him again?” She asked, slowing her step and you frowned at her.

“I’m not a mega bitch!” You complained and she looked over at you, lips forming a tight line. “OK, fine, fine, whatever. If you guys actually liked each other than fine, whatever, I’d be supportive of that, but I’m just saying, don’t get your hopes up. Even if they did break up, you don’t want to be just a rebound.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, “I’ll keep my expectations low. Anyway, I’m gonna go find my friends.” She flounced off in front of you, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she went and you grumbled in aggravation.

That girl was only going to get her heart broken.

Now that you were here, though, you needed to find Jungkook and remind him about your homework appointment tonight. You had an assignment to do and it wasn’t going to write itself…and you definitely weren’t going to write it unless you had help so you hiked your bag higher on your shoulder and walked into the school, shivering at the temperature change.

Walking further down the hall towards where you knew Jungkook’s locker to be, you couldn’t see him at first, but the hallway was busy with people so you pushed further into the crowd before spotting his bouncing head of dark hair.

You walked up behind him, tapping his shoulder. “Hey Jungkook, you still good to help me with my English homework after school?”

He jumped, spinning to face you, eyes wide and fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his long shirt. “Uh, Y/N, hi. Actually, I-I am not feeling very well today so I was gonna try and take a nap after school or something.”

You watched him, eyebrow raised as he pressed his back further into the locker, eyes drifting over your shoulder to dance across the faces of the people passing through the hallway to their first classes.

“Ok…” You said slowly, glancing over your shoulder and then back to him. “Well, what about tomorrow? You free then?”

“How about I text you and let you know?” He asked, spinning quickly towards his locker and grabbing his books, slamming the door shut. “I’ve got class, but I’ll message you later or something. Bye.”

You watched as he darted down the hallway, turning the corner and disappearing out of sight. “Weirdo.” You sighed.

****

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! I’ll be finishing and posting the last chapter of Independent next month and then Moirai will become my main focus. <3

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

#jungkook scenario #BTS jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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