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elias-code · 3 years

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Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice I

Choose your own adventure ~ “Die With Memories, not Dreams“

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza

Summary: You decide to let Techno sleep with you. He spoons you, keeping you warm, and you dream about him… You wake up in the morning to him preparing your room. When you get downstairs, you notice him hiding a hard-on, and you both decide to deal with it the rough way.

Warnings: Cussing, praise kink, rough sex NSFW!! MINORS DNI

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO

~Recap~

I could feel my blood rush to my face as they asked if I’d sleep with them. I turned to the fireplace and lit the fire, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Only if you’re ok with it,” I said.

They paused and my heartbeat harder, unsure what they were going to say. I started preparing the fire, putting the hesitation out of my mind.

~Recap Complete~

— The Bird —

Techno is so cute when he’s trying to hide his shame. As if he should be ashamed of offering to sleep with me. It didn’t need to mean anything, but it obviously did to him. Never one to pass up and opportunity to make fun of him, I took the bait.

“Please, that fire is not going to be enough,” I cuddled up into the cloak, looking bashfully at him, “I need some body heat, pig boy.”

“Is it really that cold in here?” His voice was slightly shaky.

“Yeah, and I promise I won’t try to fuck you,” I said, “Unless you want to, of course,”

He stopped, not looking up. I could tell his face was burning because his ears were bright red, a sure sign of embarrassment. I hit the right nerve, and I watched eagerly to see what he did next.

“Let’s take a raincheck,” he said, “but if that’s what dates do then I’m down.”

I turned his words over in your head, half dumb-struck, half… well…

“I’m joking, Bird,” He says, his blush is gone, replaced by a victorious smile, “And I think you were, too,”

“What makes you think that?” I said innocently.

“Shut up and get dressed,” He squinted at me and shook his head, “I’ll be back up in a few.”

With that, he left. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand, my hands getting clammy. His cape around me felt heavy as if he were there holding me. I shook the thought out of my head, ignoring the sudden arousal stirring inside of me.

Bracing for the cold, I shucked his cape off and then the rest of my clothes. Part of me silently hoped he’d walk in on me undressing, see me there and… no. I slipped on a pair of comfy pants and a soft shirt. Even if Techno wanted to, he would never say it, and it’s too hard to read him to risk bringing it up.

I draped his cape across the back of a chair and scurried under a pile of woven blankets and furs on the bed. It was still cold, but I ignored my goosebumps and shut my eyes.

— Techno —

By the time I had gotten upstairs, it looked like they were already asleep. I thought about leaving them there, deep in slumber, and going downstairs to sleep on the couch, but when I touched their neck, my hand froze. They were incredibly cold and still shivering. Thank god the banquet isn’t supposed to take place here, I think they’d freeze to death.

I wriggled under the blanket, heart pounding. They were cold to the touch all over, but I held them close to me anyway. Slowly, I tucked my leg in between theirs to warm their legs. I wrapped my arms around them and held them close to my chest, quickly realizing they were still awake.

“Mmm, Techno,” They mumbled.

“What?”

“You’re so warm,” they quietly laughed, “like a radiator.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“So you’re cute and hot, huh?” They teased. I blushed again, this time not hiding it. There was no chance I’d be able to hide that and my arousal at the same time, and one was obviously more important.

I did not want them freaking out if they realized I was hard, so I shoved those feelings deep down somewhere in an attempt to forget about it.

Soon, my eyelids grew heavy, and Bird was asleep in my arms.

— The Bird’s dream —

He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way that I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.

“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”

“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”

“If only they knew. Tsk.”

Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.

“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” A voice boomed, echoing in my mind.

I’m below him, he’s thrusting into me in a white space, the voice was gone and there was no sound except for the quiet moans escaping his lips.

— The Bird —

I gasped, suddenly wide awake. Techno wakes, breathing into me. I’m back in his bed, the man behind me was stirring, opening his eyes. His arms were wrapped around me, pressing my back against his chest, his leg was between mine.

“Bird,” He whispers.

I shifted so I faced him, burying my face into his chest, which I realized was bare. He pulled me closer, softly squeezing me.

“Sorry, go back to sleep,” I said. He was already sleeping

— Techno —

The sun was in my eyes, making my vision red before I even opened my eyes. I was holding them in my arms, they silently snored, unaware I was awake. The curtains had been left open and sunlight spilt into the room in an orange glow. The fire had gone out sometime last night and the stale air was cold in my nose.

I kissed them on the forehead, reluctantly letting them go and standing up. I carefully shut the curtains and lit the fire. When I looked back at the bed, they were watching me, smiling.

“Good morning,” I said.

“G’morn’n” they muttered, still half asleep.

This was a strange feeling. Everything was right in the world, the gods were finally smiling down at me. Fuck, they’re so cute.

I picked myself up, moving to open the furthest curtains slightly to allow them to get up if they wanted. In what would be a small gesture for most people, I put their clothes for today out on the chair, where they’d left my cape.

I lifted it up, pulling it close to my face to free the end from the top of the chair. It smelled like them, even though they’d only been wearing it for a few minutes.

I trot down the stairs, leaving them to awaken alone. I hung my cape on its stand and went to the kitchen. I grabbed some bread and tore a chunk out of it, absentmindedly chewing.

We know what you want, Techno. They know, too. They want it, you want it, so what’s stopping you? Huh? Oh, and you can feel that?! It’s lust, Techno. I know you know who it’s for. I cursed at the voices to shut it, I’d had enough teasing for today. I didn’t need to be enticed further, just being around them was enough.

The floor creaked above me, meaning they’d gotten up for the day. I tried to take deep breaths to slow my heartbeat, but I couldn’t stop the hard-on I was getting. What are you gonna do now, big boy? They’re gonna see you biting back an erection in the kitchen. You’re going to scare them away. You’re going to put them on their knees-

Their face peeked around the stair entrance, searching for me. I composed myself as best I could. They nodded at me and rushed down the stairs, still dressed in the clothes from last night.

Their hair was a bird’s nest, fitting. Their shirt was half-tucked into their pants, which hugged their form and cut just before the ankles. Their bare feet were playfully pattering towards me.

“Like what you see?” They asked.

I cleared my throat and swallowed the bread, “I left clothes for you on the chair if you want to change.”

“You’re not changed,” they poked my chest, eying my abs, “You’re being a hypocrite.”

“Am not,” I was. “You’re going to freeze in that, I’m fine as I am.”

“That’s why you’re here, remember?”

The blush was too fast to hide. Thankfully, they’d already looked away and at the bread in my hand.

“Can I have it?” They asked as they plucked it from my hands, not waiting for a response.

“Um, you already do…” The voices were picking up again, shoving themselves into the front of my mind. You want them to devour you like that, don’t you? You want to feed them something more… substantial.

“Shut-“ I said.

They paused, “What?” Their mouth was stuffed with bread and my mind raced. I could fit in there, and it would be so nice, tight, wet…

“It’s nothing. I need to get dressed if you’re not going to,” My dick pulsed, begging for release. I knew I liked them, but this was new. Last night, I couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to fuck them. They’re so small compared to me. I’d fit in so nicely.

“No, stay.” They demanded.

I was already heading for the stairs, and I didn’t face them, knowing the tent in my pants was a dead giveaway. “Why? What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll suck your dick.” They said. It was a bit too honest and my face burned, my mind pleading for me to flip them over and destroy their innocence.

“Bet,” I said, or rather, the voices said through me. Regret rushed through me as their footsteps approached.

“As if I didn’t notice, Technoblade,” They said, now in front of me. My shame was palpable. “I felt it last night, and I saw it this morning. You are so adorable.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked at them blankly.

“I’m being serious,” They said, crossing their arms, “I need to destress and honestly, I haven’t been fucked in a long time, so just let me know. The offer’s open.”

They began to walk away, taking my blank stare as disinterest. I grabbed their arm, holding them in place. I looked them in the eye, glimmering in the morning light, the last bits of dusk were barely visible in their pupils. Their lips parted partially as their eyes met mine. Do it, I know you want to.

“I do,” I said, out loud. My thoughts were getting a little too audible.

“You do… what?”

I grabbed their face and kissed them harshly.

— The Bird —

When I first saw Techno cleaning upstairs, I was enthralled in his form. He looked lean with his shirts on, like an emaciated cow. With it off, I could see the curves of his muscles, how they flexed when he picked something up.

He was also covered in scars. They were lighter than his normal skin tone, and they were raised slightly. Some of them looked older than others, and I couldn’t help but imagine him telling the stories behind each and every one.

As I woke up more and my eyes adjusted to the light, I also noticed his bulge, which I was desperate to unsee. The dream from last night was fuzzy, but my pants were still damp from it. I remember him over me, letting me have it and-

“Good morning,” He said.

I barely mumbled a reply, silently running scenarios through my mind. He could slip back into bed and destroy me. I would be screaming his name in minutes. The tent in his pants was nothing less than an invitation.

“You do… what?”

He grabbed my face and pushed his lips onto mine. I moaned slightly into it, knowing it would put a sizable dent in the walls he’d put up around his heart.

He pulled back, “I can… can you?” He couldn’t even form full sentences. It’s almost like he was in heat.

I pushed him lightly against the wall and got on my knees. Fuck, am I really doing this? He’s my best friend, does he even care about me? Am I doing this just to have it ruin the banquet? Our relationship is going to go off the fucking rails if I do this.

I was already putting my hand on his dick. I could feel the precum soak through the fabric. I rubbed its head, putting my other hand in his pants to get a real grip on it.

“Is this ok?” I had to ask. There’s no dignity in assuming.

“Yes,” he growled, pushing my hand down into his pants, “Just… oh gods-“

I put my hand around his dick, my fingers couldn’t even touch, that’s how thick it was. It was not going to fit all the way in my mouth. It’d be like trying to eat a fence post, but I wouldn’t let that stop me.

I put my thumb on the tip, rubbing the precum on the head, then licking my fingers, tasting his lust for me. Sizing it up, I licked the tip, then kissed it, trying to test my limits. Each time I touched a new area, he would quiver slightly. Had he ever even fucked anyone before? That was a nice thought… I’d take his virginity.

I tucked my teeth behind my lips and took the head of his dick into my mouth. I sucked slightly, relishing at the moment.

“Please…” He begged for me to take it deeper. I obliged, pushing my mouth further down the shaft, feeling the veins and curves with my tongue, sending him spiralling. For a man who’s killed entire countries, he was incredibly sensitive.

I started to bob my head on his dick. His hand flew to my head, grabbing my hair by the roots. He followed my lead and stayed still, breathing heavily as I got further down the shaft, close to the base.

Instead of waiting, he took it upon himself to thrust into my mouth and down my throat. I gagged hard, my eyes tearing up from the pressure. He slowed but did not fail to push himself deep into my throat over and over again.

He pulled out, panting. “Techno…” I moaned. I was starting to sit in a pool of slick, my body preparing for his entrance. I could feel my insides tense up and release over and over, gripping around nothing, desperate for his dick.

“Fuck me, Techno…” I muttered.

He picked me up from the waist, his dick still hard and pulsing. He carried me to the couch and flipped me onto my stomach, facing away from him. My legs hung off the end of the couch, spread to allow for easy access. I could hear my own heartbeat. I’d never had anyone inside of me, and he was a scary first-time.

“Go easy, Tech,” I said.

“I can’t make any promises,” He said, adding, “But if it’s too much, tell me to stop.”

He grabbed me by the hips, positioning himself behind me. The head of his dick was pressed to my hole, his hands digging into my sides, preparing for penetration.

I was soaking wet by now, practically dripping onto the carpet. Thank gods I was because he pushed in without warning.

“F-FUCK,” I screamed, the moans no longer being held back.

“Shh, Phil will hear you,” He whispered in my ear.

He pulled out and thrust in again. This time pleasure outweighed the pain. My insides were making room for his enormous penis. My walls gripped around him, trying to milk the cum out of him.

Now he started a rhythm, the sounds of skin slapping against skin was loud enough that Phil could definitely hear it. Techno was not going easy on me.

He pounded into me, rearranging my insides. Every thrust was met with an accompanying moan escaping from my mouth, loud and unrelenting. I held onto the couch for dear life and prayed to the gods I’d make it out of this able to walk.

My core tightened, signalling what was to come. He leaned over, his chest on my back like we were in bed, and he whispered praise into my ear.

“You’re so tight, ugh”, “You’re doing so well,”, “I’m gonna cum into you”, “I’m gonna make you quiver and scream in ecstasy, baby”, “be a good bird and cum for me, huh?”

He was so close, and I was close behind. His thrusts lost rhythm as he lost his sense of words. They became spastic, spaced randomly, going down to the base every time. His moans and grunts were getting louder and my moans had turned into whines.

I felt my eyes water as the pressure in my gut built. He thrust in hard a few more times, sending me over the edge.

“Techno, ah, fuck… AAAAH!” I screamed. My legs shook as my body tensed up, squeezing his dick inside of me, he pulled out and pushed back in again as I shuttered under him.

“I’m - ‘m gonna,” he stuttered. He shoved himself all the way in, pushing everything inside of me out of the way. I felt the liquid fill me up, his cum hitting my walls and making me shake uncontrollably. He held my hand as I continued to moan and whine, overstimulated from his load.

“Holy… shit,” He huffed.

“T-Techno,” He was still inside of me, shooting another rope of cum into me.

“Fu-uck.”

My orgasm ended with a final squeeze, leaving me to quiver below him as he came. Eventually, he pulled out. I felt empty but more full than I was before he went in. His cum was still sloshing around inside of me. I rolled over to look at him, our cum dripping out of me. He looked at me, no, through me. It was the face he made when he was thinking about the future, when he was testing his possibilities.

“Techno, I-“ I whined, still sensitive.

“This stays between us alone, alright?” He breathed.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I said.

He laughed, now finally looking at me properly. I smiled and laughed back, just basking in the ridiculousness of what just happened. Part of me wished he picked me up and put me back on him. Another part of me wished I’d somehow end up carrying his children. The rational part of me was worried he’d shove this memory so far down that he’d forget about it completely. I wouldn’t let that happen.

— Philza —

“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin. The couch was a mess like someone had tipped it over and roughly put everything back in place. Oddly, nothing else was awry, and Techno was in the kitchen, making eggs like nothing ever happened.

The bird smiled at me, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.

“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was dishevelled, to say the least.

“What was all that screaming about? Did a creeper almost explode in here or something?”

Techno’s ears pinked, the bird responded, “No, Techno just scared me. I woke up and I just saw this silhouette standing over the bed. Apparently, he was not a demon, and I startled him more than I think he did me.”

“Jesus, you have to stop standing creepily in people’s peripheral, Techno.” I laughed.

“Yeah, I didn’t even know they were awake. They were completely hidden under the pile of blankets.” Techno responded, not looking back at me. I detected a hint of deceit but brushed it off.

“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.

“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.

“What’s the dress code?”

“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”

They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flowy things were not as easy.

/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION BRRRRRRRRRR ///

Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)

Dress

Tux-dress

Tuxedo

#techno x reader #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade #choose your own adventure #two left hooves #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dsmp #dsmp x reader

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 18 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including babysitting Henry and volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

A/N: That’s my gif so please give credit if you use it 🤗 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral (female receiving), addiction, relapse, discussions of death/murder, unsub talk, hospitals, inpatient ward Word Count: 13K

MASTERLIST

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The next morning felt strangely similar to the morning of the day we’d gone to the bank. . Waking up in Spencer’s bed and smelling the unmistakable, comforting scent of old book pages and stale coffee. I’d told him when I first came to his place that it reminded me of a library, but it was more like that quiet local hole-in-the-wall bookshop.

It almost felt like that morning, but there was one glaring difference: Spencer wasn’t in the bed.

When I sat up to try and locate him, I was reminded that there are consequences to my actions. My stomach hurt like shit, and I swore I blacked out for a second from the pain. It would pass, though. Considering I had gotten through the night without waking, it clearly wasn’t that bad.

I thankfully managed to get out of bed myself and take the pain medication I kept in my purse. And armed with the knowledge that the pain would subside within the next half hour, I hobbled toward the distant sounds of… vomiting.

Not even bothering to stop yet, I made my way to the kitchen to grab the poor guy a glass of water. It was the least I could do for his comfort considering that I was about to make his headache much, much worse.

Peeking my head through the open door, I frowned at the sight of my boyfriend half asleep on the toilet.

“Hey old man. I brought you some water.”

Finally looking up, not having noticed me until I spoke, Spencer groaned as he backed up to lean against the wall instead of the dirty porcelain. “God, when did I get this old?”

“Hmm. I’m guessing sometime in the past 30 years.” I hummed, joining him on the cold tile floor. The two of us just rested there, his hand reaching out to take mine with a solemn smile.

“You’re cute.” He mumbled.

“I know, thanks.” I joked back, knowing that I really looked like a whole mess, with my hair desperately needing to be brushed. He never seemed to mind, though. I was glad for the lighthearted domesticity of the moment, because I knew I was about to shatter it like a brick through glass.

Softening my features as much as possible with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I squeezed his hand before finally whispering, “You know your age isn’t the only reason you’re sick though, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped back with about as much hostility as I was expecting. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his breathing picking up almost immediately as he tried to calm himself down.

“I know you’re just trying to do what you’re supposed to, but please…” The waver in his voice broke my heart and turned my stomach to knots. With more force, he held his hand in the air and continued to stare straight ahead. “Just... don’t. I’ll call my sponsor.”

I tried to keep my voice quiet and nonthreatening as I pushed, but I knew that it wasn’t going to make much of a difference either way.

“We have to talk about it, too, Spencer.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You’re going to get your chip taken away,” my voice broke in half as the word fell from my mouth, “I know that that’s important to you. We can’t ignore it.”

Speaking faster, our urgent pleas overlapped to create a small cacophony booming through the acoustics of the bathroom. “(Y/n), seriously, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A silence fell between us, and I let it sit there for a minute. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if he was defensive, and that’s exactly what he was at the moment. But I wasn’t trying to chastise him; I’m not his mother, I’m just his worried girlfriend. I loved him and I knew something was wrong, and I just wanted to help.

I didn’t know how. The men I loved never made it far enough for me to be able to help.

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming home. We need to talk about that, at least.” I offered the narrowed scope, hoping that he would take it without any more of a fight.

He didn’t. Instead, he took back his hand and turned it to a fist in his lap. That time it was my breathing that became unsteady, and I tried to touch him, but he recoiled when I came too close.

“You didn’t seem to mind me being drunk last night.”

Although I knew it was coming, the words hurt just the same. I resisted the urge to mirror his actions. I wasn’t angry. I wouldn’t be angry, because that’s what he wanted. If I reacted that way, he could write off my responses.

“I’m not going to agitate you or shame you when the damage is already done, Spencer.” I said as confidently as I could, “I knew you needed affection and you weren’t going to ask for it yourself.”

He finally looked at me again, and in doing so, realized he was making a mistake. The anger melted from his face within seconds, being replaced with overt sadness and guilt. “I could have hurt you.” He whispered through the tears that started to fall.

“But you didn’t.” I said with a gentle smile, reaching over to wipe the saltwater from his cheek. “That’s not a very good excuse anymore.”

“It’s always a good explanation.” He clarified, chewing on his bottom lip. His hands released from their tense state.

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to clear his tears, but he brought his own hands up to rub the tired eyes. I used the freedom to run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Resting his head against my shoulder, he let out a deep, shaky breath. I continued slow, soft strokes along his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breath slowly recalibrate. Once I was satisfied with the pattern, I tried again.

“What happened on the case, Spencer?”

The tension returned, but subsided quicker than it had before. He took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale, trying to rid himself of the thought as he said it.

“We had to kill someone.”

My movements paused for a second before I reminded myself to continue, but my confusion remained. “I understand trauma is complicated but… You guys have to do that pretty often.”

Spencer wasn’t the kind of person who liked to share his thoughts. I knew as much; even his coworkers hadn’t seen the parts of him that I’d seen. There was no way for me to know if I knew them all, but I figured that I didn’t. I was almost certain there was a side of Spencer Reid that even I didn’t know. The only reason I didn’t try to figure it out was because I knew he liked it better that way. He designed his heart that way for a reason, and I wasn’t going to try and pry it out of him.

But he was scaring me. He almost never talked about his job, which didn’t bother me when it was obvious that he didn’t bring it home with him. Him getting drunk and defensive, though, were very different circumstances than the usual.

Understanding that there was no other way out of this, he continued to talk, hushed and slow. “I was alone with the guy, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but I didn’t. I didn’t kill him, even though I really wanted to.”

‘I really wanted to.’ The words stuck out in my head, no matter how quickly he tried to bury them.

“But after Hotch showed up, he had to do it. We didn’t have a choice anymore.” His arms crossed over his chest, but he pressed himself harder against me in a strange, contradictory stance.

I couldn’t respond to the most important part of his confession just yet; I knew the story wasn’t over. Like I’d told him, trauma and grief are complicated; however, there was something else he needed to admit before I could address the part of his admission he seemed most affected by.. “Spencer, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.” I reassured, trying to coax his arms away from his chest. I’m no profiler, but I felt like if he stopped trying to build walls, things might be easier. I could at least try to break down the ones that were tangible.

“I’m not worried about it being my fault. I’m worried about how… angry I am.” He said in defeat, dropping his arms back to his lap. He still didn’t want to touch me, it seemed. Like the same hands that had wielded a gun against a man were too tainted to share.

“I’m angry because… I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to suffer for hurting innocent people and —“ He covered his mouth, and I think the motion surprised himself.

I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, no matter how illogical I knew that was. It felt like yet another morning was being taken away from us by what had happened before. I didn’t want to think about it; I didn’t want it to torture Spencer the way it did me. It was wishful thinking, and the stupid kind, at that.

Spencer would always blame himself and care too much. While he was always trying to work on the former, I hoped that the world would let him keep the latter. His compassion was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. The thought of losing the man who felt the need to confess to me that he’d lied about checking me out in a crowded club invoked a sadness I never wanted to experience.

Although, the prospect of that loss paled in comparison to the acute sorrow I was feeling right then, holding Spencer while he failed to hold back tears, choking on his words. “I didn’t do it, and then he almost hurt someone else.” He said, his voice growing more frantic as he broke from my hold, grabbing his hair and pulling it like it would do something to stop the thoughts.

“And I’m angry that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I wasn’t the person who got to kill him.” He spat, rocking forward as I tried to wrap my arms around him again. He didn’t let me, putting an arm out to hold me away from him. Still, he looked at me when he forced himself to say the conclusion that I’d reached the second he told me he had wanted to kill someone.

“I’m angry that I didn’t kill someone, (y/n).”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him that my mind literally couldn’t pick any of them. All I could do was stare at the man I loved, stopping me from doing the only thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to hold him; to remind him that I would love him no matter what. Just like we always did, I wanted my body to express the things that my mouth wouldn’t articulate.

But apparently, I was capable of doing that without even touching him. Because the longer we sat in silence, the more his enraged grimace warped to a frown. “Please, don’t look at me like that.” He begged, unable to take his eyes off of mine. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, because before I even spoke, he pulled his arm back. “Don’t look at me like I deserve sympathy for that.”

Ignoring the pesky numbness forming in my lower half at the awkward position on the unforgiving tile floor, I thanked the lord that I was finally getting some relief from the narcotics, which allowed me to climb on Spencer’s lap. He’d finally ceased his valiant efforts to keep me away from him, accepting me with his hands on my hips.

When I tried to kiss him, however, he turned his face away with a sharp inhale. Careful not to use too much force, I use a tender hand on his cheek to lead him back to me. His eyes bounced between my lips and eyes, almost like he was asking me to try again.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re a monster to make you feel better, Spencer.” I whispered, attempting to infuse the words with everything I felt.

Whether it worked or not, I could never be sure, but Spencer’s small smile sneaking over his cheek was enough for me. “I’m pretty sure it’d make me feel worse.” He croaked, laughing as he bit his tongue to stop any other jokes from slipping out. Like he was betraying the pain by letting it go.

“Well I’m not going to do that, either.” I returned with a laugh. Then, satisfied that he would accept my affections, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was so soft I could almost question whether our lips touched. But his hands slid over my lower back, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him.

Eventually, it became obvious just how tired the both of us were. With a quiet thanks, he rested his face on my shoulder, enjoying the calm after the storm of his feelings that he’d finally released.

“Can you come back to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, holding tighter for a second before he started to help ease me off his lap. “Let’s go, little girl.”

The return to my nickname made me happier than I’d like to admit. At this point, the use of my real name was like a litmus test for his anxiety. And although I could feel Spencer slowly opening back up to me, he still felt so far away when we crawled under the covers.

Turning on my side to face him, I saw something in his eyes that alerted me to just how deeply rooted this problem was. It wasn’t just the event we’d discussed; it was the knowledge that there would be many more like it in the future.

I wondered what Spencer saw when he looked at me. Did he see me like I was in that moment, or was I always going to look like I had before, choking on blood and a confession I wish I could have made more beautiful? Did he see me at all? Or did he just see all the mistakes he’d made? Would all our moments together be marred by the overwhelming tragedy of a single one? More than anything, I just hoped that he didn’t see the faces of the people who had caused us to be in that horrible tableau. I needed Spencer to see beautiful things when he looked at me, because I needed to see them in his eyes. If something so ugly was the biggest thing between us, our relationship would fray with time, each of us unable to truly see the other.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” I said into the silent early morning air of his apartment.

As expected, Spencer’s precarious smile broke almost immediately, replaced with violent sobs and an attempt to hide his face from me by burying it in my chest. I let him, wrapping my arms around his head in the hope that I could act like a shield for the world that never let him rest.

“I’ll love you forever,” I let my voice break, but I didn’t let that stop me. “And nothing will ever change that.”

—————————————————

One of the things people never warn you about when you’re dating a bona fide genius is that there is no such thing as a surprise. It was like every time I came up with an idea, Spencer could see it on my face within seconds. I was never really sure how he did it, although he usually had the decency to wait until a normal person would have figured it out to say something. For example, when we were about three streets away from his best friend’s house.

“Why are we going to JJ’s house?” He finally asked, turning to me with a confused but excited expression that almost hid the residual negative feelings that insisted on sticking around a week later.

I glanced over at him, laughing at the way his fingers bounced on his lap. He never was subtle with his emotions. “I may or may not have offered us up as babysitters so she and Will could have a much needed date night.”

From the way his shoulders dropped, I could tell it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Still, it didn’t seem like he was disappointed— he was simply trying to read my motivations that were seemingly counter-intuitive.

“Really? Isn’t that gonna be a lot for you?” The concern was evident in his voice, which I found both endearing and a little annoying. It wasn’t this fault, really. I was just so freaking tired of not being able to do basically anything I wanted to. Especially when the thing I wanted to do was watch my boyfriend and his godson.

“Henry may be well behaved, but he’s still a toddler.” Spencer continued, eliciting a deep sigh from me.

“That’s why you’re here.” I half-joked, pulling into the driveway that was starting to feel familiar. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would become friends with the woman I was angrily binge watching clips of on YouTube, I would have asked them if they had me confused for another girl. But, much to Spencer’s delight, JJ and I never really had that awkward phase. From the second that I met her, I knew that we just wanted the same thing: above all, for the people we loved to be happy. And it seemed we both had a soft spot for the man currently in my passenger seat.

“Oh, running after the kid is my job?” He laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his bag onto his lap in his excitement.

“Yep.” I stuck out my tongue at him, which only made him lean over in an attempt to steal a kiss. I allowed it, if only to bring him within arm’s reach. When he started to pull away, clearly ready to hop out of the car and run to his favorite toddler, I grabbed a fistful of his cardigan in an attempt to keep him closer for a second longer.

“But seriously, Spencer, I…”

He settled into his seat, immediately recognizing the faint tremor in my words. His hand came to rest over mine, and I sighed at the warmth that filled my whole body in seconds.

“I want you to remember that you’re a good person.” I whispered, trying to let him feel how deeply I meant the words, “I know how much you love Henry. I think spending time taking care of someone that’s… not me… will be good for you. And me.”

Those big brown eyes glassed over, glancing down and then away from me as he remembered looking at my stomach didn’t ever do much for his self-hatred. Which, in turn, just made me feel worse. I wondered if there would ever be a day where he could look at me and not feel that way. I desperately hoped that there would be.

Spencer rubbed his eyes to stop any other emotions from spilling out. “Does JJ know we’re using her kid as therapy?” He joked between sniffles.

“She’s a smart lady.” I shrugged, smoothing out the now wrinkled cardigan beneath my fingers. “Besides, Henry said he missed you and it’s hard to say no to him.”

And just like that, Spencer’s bouncing returned, his hand reaching behind him to open the door before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.”

There was no stopping him at that point, and I trailed along behind him, watching as Henry tumbled out of the front door and straight into my boyfriend’s waiting arms on the porch.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, too. Once the novelty of having me there wore off, and Henry realized that my boo-boo made it hard for me to play the way little boys liked to, Spencer returned to his rightful place as Henry’s favorite babysitter.

I didn’t mind; I was perfectly content watching the two of them. Between the cheesy magic tricks that required a little bit of childlike innocence to be entertained by and Spencer’s attempts to follow along with Henry’s excited rants about cartoons my boyfriend had never even heard of, I somehow fell even more in love with the man.

And even though I had planned this for him, it was restorative for me, too. There was this weird, paradoxical guilt you feel when you’re dating someone like him. Although I know that he wanted to spend every waking second of his free time with me, it made me feel like he was missing out on something else. Something better than me.

It was so easy to forget that we could do those things together. In a way, I could thank my injury for that. When we were limited so much on what we could do together, we had to find creative ways to spend time together that were still stimulating for the both of us.

That being said, in that moment I wished for nothing more than rest. Even just watching the two boys together was exhausting, so when Henry’s first yawn sounded, I jumped at the opportunity. Because, see, Spencer was good at the playing, but I was much better at the cuddling.

It wasn’t like he could argue, either, because while Henry curled up next to me on one side, Spencer was on the other, his arm reaching around to rest on the young boy’s back. Despite picking out the movie, Henry fell asleep against my chest within minutes.

And in the quiet calmness of JJ’s house, I found myself almost falling asleep, too. My head rested against Spencer’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly with each deep breath as my eyes struggled to stay open. That was when Spencer kissed the top of my head so delicately that I almost didn’t feel it.

“I love you, little girl.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the wave of goosebumps and satisfaction covered me like a blanket. If we’d stayed for even a few minutes longer, I would have fallen asleep right there. However, JJ and Will arrived home just in the nick of time. They tried to convince us to stay, but Spencer seemed uncharacteristically excited to leave, so I didn’t question it even though I wanted to. I took the trip home to catch up on my phone and try to wake myself up enough to spend another hour or so awake with him before I passed out.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

I perked up in my seat, not entirely sure if he’d actually said the words, or if I’d just imagined them a little too vividly. But when he glanced over at me, I knew that he was just doing that slightly unsettling thing where he read my thoughts.

“Why? You got plans?” I said through a yawn, trying to stretch within the confines of the car.

“As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

At first, I thought nothing of the smug way he said it— up until I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh, the pressure of his fingers increasing when he couldn’t go any further.

“This feels familiar.” I chuckled, my mind transporting me back to our first not-a-date. The sensations caused a desire to burn through me so quickly I became lightheaded, my lungs hungry and desperate as Spencer continued to tease me by avoiding the one place he knew I wanted him to touch.

But, of course, just as I reached down to move his hand, he pulled it away altogether.

“Lucky for you, we’re almost home.”

I audibly groaned, knocking my head back against the seat now that Spencer had succeeded in waking me up. “Sometimes, Spencer…” I mumbled, “I remember why I have to be such a fucking brat.”

“It’s my fault, is it?”

There was a distinct darkness and deviancy in his words, despite the joking cadence they were uttered in. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in some time; a voice that was imprinted so vividly in my memory that even just the thought of it would make me putty in his hands. And I knew that I was reminiscing a lot, trying to relive times that had long since passed, but every time I saw a part of the old Spencer — the Spencer who rambled in museums and demanded I cover up my Lolita costume — the more I felt like my life was finally returning to normal.

“Of course it’s your fault. Have you seen me?” I gestured to myself, swamped in a sweatshirt and shorts like a weather-confused idiot. If the clashing clothing wasn’t enough, my make up had smeared from constantly rubbing my eyes. “I’m an angel.” I concluded, intending it to be sarcastic but knowing that he really saw me that way.

And sure enough, Spencer looked me over for just one second before pulling into the parking lot to his apartment complex. “You’re spoiled.” He decided.

“Doesn’t feel that way right now.” I whined, chewing on my bottom lip as I continued to wait for his attention.

But he just parked my car, leaning over to grab his bag from between my legs. Before it got too far, though, I clamped my legs around the leather. “Stop ignoring me!” I said through a pout, only getting more heated as he chuckled in response, tugging on the satchel until it slid from between my legs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, his other hand grabbing my chin and forcing my bottom lip out from between my teeth. He held my mouth open against my resistance, but as soon as I gave into his hold, he relaxed his grip, leaning forward and pressing a much-too-soft kiss against my lips.

Without even fully breaking away, he turned my head to the side to whisper in my ear, “Get inside and I’ll make it up to you.”

Life was returning to normal. Together we excitedly stumbled through the Langham apartment complex until we got to his door, and he fumbled to unlock it without letting me go.

Everything about the chaos felt comfortable and predictable. I didn’t even notice the dull throbbing in my stomach because Spencer’s hands felt like home. The insistent noise of all my messy insecurities was quieted by his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as we finally crossed the threshold.

“Watching you with Henry, I just...” Spencer began to mumble against my neck, our bodies gravitating toward his room with a complete lack of grace, considering how well I should know the layout by now. We made it to the door, but not his bed, as he pressed me against the wall right on the other side.

His lips were slightly swollen from how feverishly he’d kissed me, his breathing ragged and his hair wild from where my hands had raked through it a few too many times. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, staring into me so deeply that it caused a shiver to roll down my spine. Spencer sensed my hesitance, because he brought a gentle hand to my face before he spoke, quietly but surely.

“I want to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

I thought about before; how those words would have filled me with both a naive joy and overwhelming anxiety. But as I stood there, staring back at him, I felt a genuine smile spreading across my lips.

“We speak in a lot of ‘one days,’ Dr. Reid.”

I couldn’t tell the effect the words had on him, although I had a few guesses. I’d avoided the part of the sentence he’d meant for me to hear the loudest. We both knew I’d heard it. At the same time, I hadn’t denied the idea or given any reason to suggest I wasn’t happy about the statement.

“I’m serious.” He insisted, not ready to drop the subject just yet.

Unfortunately for him, though, I had other plans. As much as the talk of marriage gave me butterflies, there were more immediate needs I wanted him to fulfill. So, without saying anything, I subtly suggested that he put off the conversation and switch to other activities with a firm hand against the bulge that had already formed in his pants.

“God, I want to fuck you.” He immediately groaned, his head lolling forward and resting against mine. I figured that it would be harder to convince him to fuck me now that he wasn’t drunk, but he seemed even more willing now that we’d already made the leap of faith once. Nothing bad had happened to me then, and the dramatic improvement of my mood was helpful for both of us.

So I began to slide down the wall, my hands raking down his chest as I giggled, “Let me help you.”

Spencer’s hands moved so quickly and with such strength that it surprised the both of us. Luckily, he’d grabbed my hips instead of my stomach, halting me before I could drop to my knees.

“No.” He firmly corrected, lifting me back to my normal height before turning the two of us around so that my back was to the bed. “It’s my turn.”

Much gentler now, he helped lower me onto the bed, but he didn’t follow me yet.

“Take off your clothes.” He instructed me as he removed his own.

I listened, watching him intently to try and determine his plans before he actually got to me. But he kept his expressions to a minimum, only giving away his enthusiasm in watching me sheepishly remove my clothing. My shirt was still on when he climbed onto the bed and over my body.

“I want to see you.” There was something pitiful about the way he uttered the words, and my hands hesitated, holding tightly to the hem of my shirt as I avoided his eyes.

“You have an eidetic memory, Spencer. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll never stop wanting to see you. You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He used my name, and my body reacted just as quickly as he realized his mistake. Grabbing my arms before I could close them over me, he brought my wrists against the bed beside my head. “You can leave it on for now.”

What he said provided me all the context I needed to know what he was planning, and I locked my legs around him, hoping that I could stall him for a few moments.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me.” I begged, arching my back and baring my neck to him, knowing that he could see my erratic pulse in my neck.

“I can’t. Not yet.” His voice was strained, one hand raised so that his fingers could brush over my neck. “It won’t be much longer.”

Frustrated by his undying desire to take care of me, I used my hand that he’d released to grab a handful of his hair. “I want to feel you inside of me again.” I moaned through the words, my heels digging into his back and bringing his hips down to meet mine. I watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I want to see the look on your face when you fill me up.” I continued, bucking up in search of the delicious friction I’d been deprived of for months now. “I know what you’re thinking when you do it.”

“F-fuck.” He struggled to lower his hand to hold my hips down, but I could tell he was scared he would hurt me in the process. It was a dangerous game, to ever put me in this position when neither of us had pants on. Spencer’s confidence wavered as he choked on his words, “This isn’t going to work.”

“You can’t think about that if I’m not touching you.”

“Yes, I can.” He responded with no hesitation, his eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“But isn’t it so much more fun when it’s actually possible?” I cooed.

“It’s always possible, it’s just so unlikel— Fuck!” Spencer cut off by his own gasp when I finally succeeded in pulling him against my heat.

The noise that I gave was something between a sigh and a moan, and I swore I saw Spencer’s pupils dilate in response. There were just some things he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. But my satisfaction was short lived, and Spencer sat up on his knees to place a manageable distance between us.

“We’re not doing this.” He growled through clenched teeth, his nails raking over my thighs before he removed them entirely. “Stop being a greedy fucking brat and spread your legs.”

I waited a second, hoping that Spencer would get impatient and force my legs open himself. But he flashed me a look, warning me that if I didn’t behave, he could very easily just send me to bed without any satisfaction. And as much as I wanted to call his bluff, the idea of going to bed without getting to touch him was so upsetting.

So, I slowly dropped my legs open, running my hands over the skin still burning from where his hands had touched me. And even slower, Spencer lowered himself until his face rested against my thigh, the scruff of his cheek causing a shiver to run up my body.

“Don’t tell me that a few months of me pampering you has undone all of my hard work.” He murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

But the fact that I did was evidenced by my laugh. “That would imply you’ve actually accomplished something to undo, but I’m just as bratty as the day you met me, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on my face as I continued to giggle, now urged on by the way his breath tickled my inner thigh. “Is that right?” He said in that familiar cocky voice. “Because I happen to recall that the first time that I did this, you tried to stop me.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks as my mind replayed the memory of his smirk from when he had held my legs open for him.

‘You’re not broken, little girl. Promise.’ Just the thought of the words was enough to cloud my mind, but I was dedicated to besting him in this exchange. If he was going to be arrogant, then I would give him the best challenge I could.

“Would you rather I fought you?” I asked, beginning to pull my legs shut before he grabbed them and pulled them over his shoulders.

“No. The instructions for tonight should be very easy to follow; even for you.”

I was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder the closer he came to actually fucking doing something. It was so obvious that he was getting off on the way my eyes were barely able to stay open, my chest moving with each half-sob that came when he would lay a kiss against my hips.

“What are they?” I slurred, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to prevent myself from forcing him against me.

It was clearly the exact question he was waiting for, a devilish smirk stretching over his cheeks as he dragged his lips down to where I wanted them, moving them against my skin to say, “Stay still, and don’t be quiet.”

While I appreciated the instruction, I feared that it was in vain. Because when Spencer finally flattened his tongue against me, I couldn’t have stopped myself from immediately crying out if I tried.

My hands retained their death grip on the sheets, partially making up for the fact that my body immediately disobeyed his command to stay still. But I couldn’t help it; the long strokes of his tongue up and down my sex felt like pure bliss. And honestly, it wasn’t even just the physical sensations. It was just the knowledge that we were back where we should be; shamelessly indulging in our need for each other without inhibitions. Spencer was clearly enjoying himself, his hands struggling to gently hold me down while he devoured me like a man starved.

I couldn’t look at him, my head bent so far back I could see the headboard. His name fell from my mouth like a mantra, my hips rolling against each motion of his tongue.

“I missed you.” I cried, my legs once again locking around him, my heels on his back as I wished I could pull him closer. “I missed this so badly, Spencer.”

He couldn’t really answer, although I think the moan that he gave was meant to be a response. The vibrations almost sent me over the edge, but right before they could, he pulled back ever so slightly.

I glanced down to figure out why, and was met with his eyes watching me intently, analyzing every response I was giving him; memorizing the way my body shook with need after just a few weeks in his absence.

“Please, don’t stop.” I begged, not caring how pathetic the words sounded when they broke in my throat.

“Oh, I’m not.” He mumbled against me, raising his lips to close around the bundle of nerves at my crest.

At first, I just sighed, appreciating the soft flicks and swirls of his tongue that would eventually build up another release. But it was when I closed my eyes that he revealed his plan.

Without any warning, I felt his finger slip between my folds, thrusting into me with one fluid motion as my wanton moans filled the room. He didn’t let them distract him, his mouth intent on the rhythm it had set, and his hand insistently working to match it.

There was nothing comprehensible in the noises I made, and neither of us seemed to mind. Spencer was only urged on, quickly adding a second finger in his ruthless pace that finally forced me to release the wrinkled sheets in my hands. Instead, they wound through his hair, pulling me against him as I chased my release.

“Please.” I whined, hoping that he would know what I was asking for. Because I didn’t even know what I was asking for— just that he could give it to me.

And sure enough, he did, his fingers beginning to curl inside of me with each motion. I used all of the energy I could muster had to keep my hips relatively still, although they were still trembling with the tension spreading through my muscles that tightened around him.

I wanted to call out his name, to give him the praise and recognition he deserved, but my tongue was tied in the haze of pleasure that overtook me. I could barely breathe, my mind transported to some alternate universe where there was only Spencer and myself. There was no point in identifying where we diverged, because he felt so much like a part of me in that moment, I could never separate from him again.

My walls fluttered around his fingers that still pumped into me with the same vigor. His tongue continued to circle my clit while he gently sucked, clearly lost in his own form of pleasure from the activity.

I wished I could touch him more. I wanted to drag him up to my lips, turn him onto his back and ride him until my legs gave out. But I couldn’t; my body tired and no longer used to the energy we once made a habit of spending on each other on any given day. It had used that energy to dull the pain so I could enjoy the relatively tame experience we had just shared.

As I came down from my orgasm, I was filled with guilt over the fact that I hadn’t so much as touched him once in this entire encounter, and now my hands weren’t even able to keep my grip on his hair as he lifted his head.

Spencer seemed none the wiser about the shame brewing in my head, and he wiped his mouth to reveal a lovesick smile beneath his hand.

“Good girl.” He rasped, crawling up to my side rather than on top of me. With a tender hand, he brushed aside the strands of my hair that stuck to the sweat on my face. “I knew you could behave.”

He sounded so proud of me, which only served to intensify the guilt now pouring from my heart and tainting the rest of what should have been a beautiful memory. I clung to the little bit of light I saw in those toffee eyes.

“How dare you imply I’m ever capable of such a thing.” I chuckled, reaching out to hold him somehow.

He took my hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss before resting them both against his heart.

“Can I help you?” I sounded drunk from my exhaustion, but hopefully determined enough to convince him I was willing. He didn’t buy it.

“No, go to sleep.”

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then brought his fingers down over my eyes, brushing over my lids in an attempt to get me to close them. To his credit, it worked, but only for a second before they snapped back open.

“That’s not fair!” I murmured, pulling the sheet over me while I tried to sneak closer to him. I noticed the way he scrutinized my free hand’s movements, ready to stop it from doing too much.

‘It’s gonna be like that, huh?’ I didn’t let it stop me from trying. I didn’t even get to his bellybutton before he snatched my wrist.

“I said no.”

“You know... I could help you without touching you.” I offered instead, pressing my hand against his chest since he wouldn’t let it move any lower. “It’s not the first time we’ve touched ourselves for each other.”

Spencer snorted at the reference, bringing my hands up to his neck, where they happily ran through his now tangled hair.

“That didn’t end well for me last time.”

“I bet you still finished without me.” I teased, my tongue slipping out from my mouth. “Did my pictures come in handy?”

“Like you said— I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need pictures.”

The most noticeable part of his response wasn’t the way his cheeks turned pink, but rather that he didn’t deny that he’d used the pictures. Knowing they were long gone now, considering Penelope’s tendency to snoop too much for her own good, I wondered if that memory was filed away somewhere special in his mind.

“You especially don’t need them when I’m right here.” I purred, tugging him closer by his hair until the gap between us was gone, our lips pressed feverishly against the other.

It was always like that. Like the second we touched, the proverbial dam between us turned to dust. Within a matter of seconds, we’d be so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t care about the wreckage left in our wake.

Spencer didn’t let it get that far, though. He hadn’t in some time.

“You have had enough excitement for one day. I don’t need anything.” He clarified, clearing his throat and acting like I couldn’t feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Still, his next statement was so genuine I couldn’t have argued with it if I tried. “I just wanted to take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But on the topic of wanting, I knew I felt it more. “I want things to be normal again.” I answered quickly, an urgency blooming in my throat that died when I tried to finish the thought. “I feel so... useless.”

His hand has grabbed my chin before I even noticed its absence on my hip. He held my face towards him, a dark and pained timbre in his voice.

“Don’t ever think that.”

It was a plea. I wanted to give him the relief and assurance he sought, but my gut told me to be honest with him, even if it hurt us.

“It’s just that before, we... did so much more and I’m scared that I won’t...”

Why was it so hard? He was looking at me like he would do anything to stop me from feeling even the slightest discomfort, but I felt like I was suffocating. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to worry. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me, but...

“I’m scared that I won’t ever be able to do it again.”

He couldn’t tell me that I was wrong. If he tried to make it only about my physical condition, he risked the chance of me telling him I don’t want to do it ever again. Did I feel that way? It was hard to tell; it was too early to tell. But the crushing despair that I felt at the thought of losing that part of our relationship suggested I did not feel that way.

“Hey. Look at me.” Spencer’s voice tore me away from the intrusive thoughts about our inevitable fallout, his hand still holding me in place in front of him, and his eyes still promising me the world.

“Just because we’ve done something before doesn’t mean we ever have to do it again.”

The words felt like the first breath after struggling for air underwater and finally breaking the surface just in the nick of time. Why were they such a relief? I couldn’t figure it out, but was too afraid to ask, fearing how Spencer might take it. Although, the tears pooling at my lashes gave him more than enough to read.

“Tell me you understand.” His request was as gentle as always. After a moment of trying, and failing, to collect myself, I nodded.

He sighed, cautiously moving his palm to cup my cheek. It was his voice that broke then. “I know this is hard, but I need you to use your big girl words for this. I need to make sure you hear me.”

“I understand.” My throat ached as I forced the words out. I could tell he wasn’t convinced but knew any argument would be meaningless while we were both so tired.

“Thank you.” He said, anyway. And like the prettiest sounding broken record, he let his fingertips trail over any exposed area he could find as he spoke the same words I’d heard before, even more insistent. “Even if you never touched me again, just knowing that you’re alive and happy... That alone makes the happiest man in the world.”

Spencer’s lips pressed against my forehead, resting there for a little too long. From the uneven shake of his breath, I knew he was hiding something, but didn’t want to ask what. I suspected they were tears.

I had disappointed him again. I had hurt him, yet again. I hadn’t meant to.

“It’s all that I need. To know that you’re happy.” There was an implicit message hiding in those words.

He was saying he wanted me to be happy, consciously neglecting to voice the resigned addition, ‘even if it’s not with me.’

“I know.” I whispered, half asleep as he continued drawing patterns on my skin. I meant to tell him that he was the only man who’d ever made me feel truly happy, safe, and loved— the only one I trusted with my heart. But all that came out was a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said back, leaving me to wonder if he’d heard what I meant.

—————————————————

After everything I’d been through, I’d sworn that I would never want to be in a hospital ever again. But, unfortunately for me, it seemed my stubbornness extended even to my own limits, which explained why I was currently walking through the doors of the residential inpatient ward. It was a good idea in theory, to volunteer in the last place I wanted to be so that I could grow used to being there again.

It didn’t have to be a scary place.

Especially since the people around me weren’t the typical hospital patients. In fact, the people there weren’t even the usual patients of the hospital. Apparently, the ward was hosting a group of traveling patients that had been deemed fit for a vacation to the nation’s capital.

My assignment was simple enough - simply meet with a person and discuss the book they were currently reading. There was no requirement that we had to have read the book before, considering that would leave most people without a partner at all.

I was expecting to meet someone to discuss some niche romance novel or whatever had recently come out in theaters, but as I scanned the list of books, one stuck out to me more than the others.

The Book of Margery Kempe (1501).

It wasn’t the book itself that piqued my interest— I’d never read it. I had, however, listened to Spencer explain the entire premise to me on several occasions. Unsurprisingly, no one else volunteered for the book from the fifteenth century that referred to the main character as “this creature.” No one until me, that is.

There was no questioning who my partner was when I entered the room, spotting her quickly on the outskirts of the room with the book in her hand, but her eyes fixed on the raindrops slowly dripping down the window.

“Hi, are you Diana?”

She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, and I tried not to be consumed by guilt for surprising her despite my best efforts not to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n). I’m sorry if I scared you. I was assigned to be your book buddy today.” I explained, gesturing to the book on her lap with a smile that wasn’t big enough to be fake. From what the nurses had told me about her, I figured it was best to just be as genuine as possible… which made my answer to her next question a little more difficult.

“You’ve read this book?”

“Actually, I haven’t. No one had.” I laughed, pulling another chair over to her before taking a seat. “But I have heard someone go through basically the entire story in their own words, so...” I never finished the thought, cut off by a slight scoff from the woman.

“I figured. You’re very young.”

“Hey! Young people can read the classics.” I defended, crossing the lower half of my legs and tucking my hands between my knees. It probably gave away some of my nerves, but I figured it was alright considering she wasn’t a profiler and Spencer wasn’t here.

“But you don’t.” She wryly noted.

“Guilty. My boyfriend does, though.” I acquiesced, albeit a bit distracted as my mind decided to focus on those memories rather than the current reality.

“At least you’ve got that exposure. It’s important to learn these things.”

For a second, it felt like I was being lectured by my boyfriend, making it hard not to laugh, which I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate.

“Can you tell me about it? I want to know if my boyfriend was just making stuff up.” I shrugged, laughing while I found myself avoiding her eyes. She noticed that behavior; most people would.

But to my surprise, she started to explain the book, anyway. Less surprising was the realization that Spencer hadn’t made up any of it. It was clear as day from their similar words that they had definitely read the same book. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they’d discussed it together, too.

She was more talented than he was at explaining, though. Maybe it was a little bit my fault, considering I always got distracted by his voice. But with her, it really did feel like someone sharing a part of themselves. I could tell how deeply she cared for literature, and it made me more excited to hear about the chaste holy woman that found herself tempted by jealousy and sex.

When her story was winding to an end, I was almost sad that it was over. “You must have been a professor.” I mumbled, having already forgotten the information I was given by the nurses.

She was quick to correct me, her mouth curling into a frown as she said, “I still am. I’m just not on the campus anymore.”

“Of course. Gotta stay sharp, right?” I half-heartedly joked, sitting up from my slouched position. A brief stint of silence stretched between us and glancing at the clock I realized that it would still be a little while until Spencer could come get me. So, I turned back to the woman in front of me, noticing the way she stared out the window as she chewed on her nails.

“Is that why you wanted to visit D.C.?” I wondered aloud, and her response didn’t help assuage that curiosity at all.

“I... have another reason.”

“That sounds very mysterious, Diana.” I giggled, leaning forward and whispering, “Are you secretly a rebel?”

She scoffed, but I detected amusement behind the apparent derision. “Nothing like that.”

As sneaky and vague as she was being, and the fact that I had been warned of her paranoia, I still found myself wanting to ask her what could possibly make her as happy as her current thought.

“So what is it?” I said, leaning back in an effort to seem less insistent, explaining my intentions in a rant reminiscent of my boyfriend. “I don’t mean to pry, I just... you got really happy and I’d love to share in that excitement.”

“That’s just selfish.”

She really was so much like him.

“That’s how you know I won’t judge you.” I pointed out, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my heart.

“I’m not worried about that.” She just waved her hand at me, ignoring my dramatic gesticulations and sighing as she glanced down at the book once more. After another moment of contemplation, her eyes flicked up to me so quickly I almost missed them, analyzing my features one more time before she carefully said, “I’m here to visit my son.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Although her expression was anxious, she still seemed at least a little relieved to have shared her plans with someone.

“He is.” She returned, lightly brushing the back of the book, almost like she was trying to remember something etched on the beveled hardcover. “He’s a good boy. Very bright. He has wonderful adventures. He goes all over the country. He used to tell me everything but... he’s gotten too busy for his mother these past few years.”

As I took in the words, I felt the pain in her voice. My heart wrenched in my chest, imagining how awful it must be to not have a chance to talk to your family. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.” At least, I hoped not. She had so many stories to tell, even in just this short window, I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to avoid her. Then again… I knew it could be hard.

“I know he’s busy. That’s why I wanted to come here. It makes it easier for him.” She was confident in her explanation, and I nodded back with similar gusto.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“No. I’m going to have them call him today.”

We were both happy then, and I clapped my hands together in front of me to suppress the urge to touch her as I excitedly replied, “I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too,” she agreed, simultaneously hopeful and defeated, before turning back to the window with the same wistfulness as before. “If not, the museums will be nice, too.”

“Hey, if you need a docent, I could always call my boyfriend. He would be so excited to talk to a fellow scholar who could actually follow along.” I excitedly replied, rocking forward in my chair with a goofy grin at the thought. She reminded me enough of him that I figured the two would get along. He’d at least understand what she talked about, unlike me.

“There’s no one that can compare to my son.” She warned, narrowing her eyes and pouting in a way I swore I’d seen before on another face.

“I bet. He does sound a lot like him, though. I bet they’d be friends.” The gears in my brain, rusted and slightly worn, started to turn. “They actually might be... my boyfriend lives near here.”

And that was when it hit me, the obvious conclusion I’d been avoiding for some reason. That creeping, unsettling familiarity wasn’t from coincidence; it was my brain recognizing her as an extension of the man I loved.

“...What’s your son’s name?”

She never got to answer, because no sooner had I finished saying the words thanwe both heard Spencer’s voice from the door behind us.

“Mom?”

The realization crashed into all three of us like a goddamn freight train. And even with my flair for the dramatic, I found my head spinning as I tried to will time to rewind itself.

“Spencer? How did you know I was here?” Diana said through a confused gasp, turning to me to see the equally stunned look on my face.

“I didn’t… I—“

They both turned to me, but I was too busy staring halfway between them, my jaw dropped open and my brain suddenly devoid of any helpful thought.

When it decided to finally be helpful, it was only marginally better. “Well… that makes a lot of sense.” I said with a cringeworthy laugh. When neither of them laughed, and continued to stare at me, I quickly shot up from my chair and waved a shaking hand. “You should talk to your mom. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I didn’t get very far before Spencer’s hand caught my wrist, his wild eyes wide and insistent as he crackled, “Actually, I need a minute alone with you. If that’s okay.”

I turned to Diana for her permission but found nothing useful. She was also still caught up in the disaster that had just occurred, and turned back to her son who seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Sorry mom, I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nearly dragged me out of the room, shutting the door and hiding out of sight of any windows. If he was ready to unleash his pent up anxiety, though, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Spencer, what the shit?!” I whisper-yelled, the sound echoing through the sterile hallway.

My boyfriend didn’t have any answers, his hands raking through his hair as he clearly tried to calm his heart and rapid breath. “I’m sorry I— I didn’t know that she was here! What is she doing here?!”

“Oh my god. Shut up. I’m freaking out. What if she thinks I’m weird?” I rambled back, grabbing my chest once I realized that I was freaking out just was badly as the idiot in front of me. Because seriously, he couldn’t tell me his mom’s name so I wouldn’t be blindsided like this?

Then again, I guess I couldn’t talk.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered back, dragging his hands over his face. He seemed eerily calm while asking, considering just how much we could have gotten into during our conversation. Although, I guess it would have been weird to share the more intimate, embarrassing details with a stranger at a hospital.

“I don’t know! We just talked about you!”

“You talked about me?!”

“Well we didn’t know we were both talking about you!” I said was quietly as possible, which was not quiet at all. Waving my arms between us, I tried to explain the jumbled mess in my head. “She was talking about her son and I was talking about my boyfriend and— Actually, that reminds me.”

“What?”

His answer came in the form of a soft thwack on the back of his head. He jumped, raising his hands to his head in both shock and embarrassment at the public chastisement, despite there being no one around to witness it.

“Call your mother, asshole!”

“Ow?! Don’t hit me!” He whined, and I could tell from the tone that the only damage done was to his ego.

“Stop ignoring your mother! You shouldn’t even be out here!” I reminded him, laying my hands against his chest and beginning to push him back towards the door. “Get back in there!”

Spencer’s hands held onto mine, and for the first time in a while I noticed that they were shaking. The lighthearted panic I’d felt seconds before vanished, replaced with a painful sadness that seemed to bleed from him into my hands.

“I’m not trying to ignore her, I just…” His eyes were struggling to focus, and the crackle in his voice warned me that there was something he was trying to avoid saying. “I can explain… This.”

I didn’t need to hear it.

“Explain what?” I meant the question to be an expression of my feelings, but it seemed to freak him out more. Like I actually expected an answer for why his mother was in a program like this. Like the reason he had kept that from me mattered. I already knew the reason he didn’t tell me— It was pretty obvious.

“Spencer, I don’t care that she’s here. That doesn’t bother me.”

From the faraway look in his eyes, I knew he didn’t really believe me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. The shame was clear on his features. But I also knew that nothing I could say in that moment would make him believe me; it would probably take a long time. That was okay. We had time.

“I’m serious. She’s your mother and you love her, so of course I’m going to like her.” I tried to reassure him anyway, and I noticed the small twitch of his pout that slowly turned into a pitiful smile.

Trying to keep that upward trend, I motioned to my absolutely ridiculous outfit and bedhead before I laughed, “I’m mostly just mortified about the fact that I just met your mother looking like this and acting like a fucking moron.”

Thankfully, Spencer laughed back. His hands gripped mine tighter, and through the tears that stayed perched on his eyes without falling, he croaked, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… go see your mom. I’ll go hang out in the cafeteria for a minute.” I jumped up on my toes, yanking my hands back only to them around his neck.

His arms caught me like they always did, holding me so tightly against him that I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I kissed him just as hard, trying to remind him that there was nothing in the world that could ruin the happiness I felt when he held me.

I held his face as the kiss ended, squishing his cheeks together and warping his smile in the process. I was just grateful that it was still there.

“And take your time talking to her, because I am fucking starving.” I instructed. The crisp hospital air on my skin was cold as he left, but inside my chest, butterflies erupted that kept me warm. He gave me one final goofy wave before we went our separate ways again.

As I wandered through the hospital halls, I wondered if he knew how nervous I actually was. I couldn’t tell him yet; he would misinterpret it, regardless of his profiling skills. He would see the anxiety in my interactions with her as my fear over his future mental state instead of what it really was— fear that the other woman he loved wouldn’t approve of me.

There was no sense in worrying about it yet. Diana and I had shared a great time together as far as I could tell, and I would definitely make sure that Spencer spent more time talking to her in the future. So as depressing as the hospital cafeteria could be, it wasn’t so bad that day.

—————————————————

Being alone with Diana was so much different after I’d learned that she was Spencer’s mother. Then again, we weren’t really alone - Spencer was there, he’d just passed out and somehow ended up with his head against the pillow on my lap. I was a little surprised by how comfortable he was being so touchy feely in front of his mother, but I’d also recognized the exhaustion the second he walked into the hospital. He’d been out cold for at least 10 minutes, and I was barely able to stay awake, myself.

Diana seemed wide awake, though, watching the minute rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulder as he slept. At least, I thought that was what she was watching, but it could have also been my hand stroking his arm.

“My son seems very happy.”

I looked up, shaken by the sudden sound after nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of Spencer’s breath against my knee. “I think that has more to do with you being here.” I said through a yawn.

“I’m not so sure.” That was all she said, quiet and skeptical. Her eyes were scrutinizing everything she could see, and I thanked the stars that I didn’t have to go through this without him here, at least. At least we’d had one nice memory together first.

“Are you the reason he’s been so busy?”

I was dreading the question but had already planned my response. “I hope not. His job is so stressful, and he spends so much of his free time taking care of me.” I looked down at the mop of brown hair that hadn’t been brushed.

When I ran my hand through the ends of his curls, he shifted on my lap, his hand coming up to grab my thigh as he buried his face into the pillow. I chuckled at the clingy movements, which poorly contrasted my words.

“It makes me feel awful.”

I expected her to look disappointed or disturbed by the action, but she mostly just looked… sad.

“He’s good at taking care of people.” She explained, her head jerking away to stare at the lamp beside her. “I made him do it too often.”

Her answer hurt me in more ways than one. It hurt me because I felt the guilt and shame in her voice over something that she had no control over, which was obviously something that should never happen. But it also hurt because I heard myself in it, and I had to ask myself if, just like I had found traits of my father in Spencer, he’d found his mother in me.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be ashamed of being like her - she was brilliant and obviously cared for him deeply. It was the source of the shame that frightened me.

Was he just with me to take care of me? How soon would he grow tired of that? What would happen when I got better? Would I ever? Did I even want to, if that meant he would leave?

They were terrible, awful thoughts to have. So, I did what I was best at, and shoved them back into the corner of my mind to revisit when I was desperate and alone.

“I think he would disagree. He obviously loves you very much.” Was what I said, instead.

“I could say the same for you.” There was a slight bitterness in her words that forced a frown out of me. The words were forceful, almost like a compulsion that she wanted to fight but was too tired to win. She seemed to regret that, too.

“I know my son... and I’ve never seen him like this before.” She pointed to him on my lap, still sound asleep despite the conversation happening above him. “I don’t think he’s ever slept that well with me. And…”

Part of me wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. I wanted her to know that it had nothing to do with any failing of her own, but a failing on the part of the rest of the world for hurting him when neither of us had been there. But she probably felt the same guilt I did that we couldn’t fix those broken parts. Her eyes met mine, and in the reflection, I saw both of our apprehension.

“I’ve never felt like a girl was taking my son away from me before.”

The breath wasn’t knocked from me, but it did fall out of me in a slow, shaky exhale. I didn’t know what to say back, terrified by the implication behind the words just as much as the fact she felt them.

“He’ll always be yours first.” I promised her, refusing to look away from her eyes even as she refused to meet them. I needed her to know that I would never be a threat to them. That all I wanted or cared about was that he was happy and safe, and that I knew she felt the same.

“Then he should call me more.” Diana said, wry humor bleeding back into the conversation despite how heavy it had become.

“I’ll make sure he does.” I answered, my hands resuming their gentle soothing motions. I saw her hand mimicking the actions against her blanket and found myself wondering about things I’d never ask her. I knew virtually nothing about his childhood aside from the prodigy thing, but it was clear that his father was not in the picture, and that he was very close with his mother.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him. Just as I had thought it, she’d said it herself.

“When you’re kind like my son, the world will eat you alive if no one is protecting you.”

Maybe Spencer had gotten that mind reading trait from his mother, rather than his profiler training, I thought.

“Are you going to protect him?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered it. In all the time we’d been together, I’d selfishly worried about how any harm to him would affect me. In my defense, it had always seemed the more likely scenario.

I was so worried about being the source of his hurt or not being able to fix it that I never thought about how I could prevent it. It almost felt… inevitable. Everyone who loved me got hurt, and he’d already made up his mind on that topic.

“I’m going to try.” The hesitance in my voice gave away my anxieties, and Diana spoke quicker and bolder.  

“You said he takes care of you, but what do you do for him?”

The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hand on Spencer’s arm grabbed his shirt before I noticed. I wanted him to be awake, to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted to be far away from that conversation— that question.

“I-I…” I mumbled, trying to flatten my hand as his mother saw it, trying to act like I wasn’t a fucking child clinging to her boyfriend to save her from a question she didn’t have a satisfying answer to.

It was too late, and Diana covered her mouth as she looked away. “I see.” She said before we both went silent.

The silence didn’t help either, though. If anything, it felt worse. Like my chest had been torn open and she could see all the contents, and the longer I gave her to draw her own conclusions about what she saw, the worst they would become.

That was stupid, right? I couldn’t tell. She liked me, right? Did it matter?

“He told me he wants to get married and have kids and I’m just...” I started to ramble, my hands now hovering above Spencer as I stared down at him, still sleeping soundly like the world wasn’t crushing me above him. In a panic, I looked up to Diana with what I can only assume was a terrified, frantic look. “I’m worried. I’m scared that he won’t be as happy as he could be if he stays with me instead of... someone else. And that question scares me because I still don’t know why he cares about me so much when I can’t give him half of what he gives me.”

My chest heaved from a combination of the lack of breath and skyrocketing pulse. Diana peered at me through her peripherals, a battle visible behind her gaze.

“Most people would be scared to admit that. Especially to his mother.” She thought out loud, and I knew she was weighing my open admission to determine how likely it was that I was lying.

“I figured lying would be worse. I know honesty is important to your family.” I confessed, hoping that my openness wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I don’t ever want to lie to either of you.”

I left off the ‘again.’

“You know what I think?” Diana said, tapping her chin and readjusting the blanket over her legs as she found a way to be more comfortable with the tension floating in the air.

I took it as a good sign. I hoped it was a good sign. I looked at her in anticipation.

“I think... you two will be happier than you think.” Diana’s lips curled ever so slightly as she held her own hand, rubbing the back of her hand the same way Spencer often rubbed mine. “Love is more than similar beliefs. It’s wanting to share your life with someone. Wanting to see them happy.”

Despite the content of her words, it didn’t feel like a lecture. It was… warm, and comforting. Her voice sounded familiar and loving and safe. She was the one who had taught Spencer to talk.

“I love my son more than anything else in the world. I won’t let anyone take him away unless I’m positive that he will be happy.” Diana finished; the warning grave but her voice quiet.

“I understand.” I replied just as softly, finally looking back down to Spencer. My heart felt like it would burst from the image. As much as I wanted him to see me and his mother having a heart to heart, it was best not to worry him with our battling affections, no matter how minimal the risk.

“Do you love him?”

The question hung in the air because I was still so caught up in his face that I almost forgot she couldn’t read my mind.

“Yes.” I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I breathlessly repeated, “Yes, I do. I love him.”

Diana must have heard the strain in my voice and seen the tiredness in my eyes, because the threatening tone faded. “Then take care of him.” She said, more like a plea than a demand. “Take care of him like I never could, because you know how much he deserves it.”

I nodded, excitedly and happily, my voice breaking and interrupted by a hard swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat when I said, “I will.”

With perfect timing, Spencer’s body jerked under my hand as it found its way back to his shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” He slurred before even opening his eyes, clearly bothered by the lost time wherein his mother and I could have spoken about any number of horrifying things.

“We were just saying it’s time for me to head out.” I lied, and Diana’s sly smirk was enough of an indication for me to feel alright about it. It was funny—I’d just told her I never wanted to lie to him, but this one seemed pretty harmless. She deserved alone time with her son, after all.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He finally sat up, rubbing his face to try and get rid of the creases that had formed from the pillow’s texture.

I laughed at the question because he was so obviously not in a position to drive. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten an Uber after leaving his place, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time wasn’t a walk of shame.

“No, I’m fine. You stay here and spend time with your mom. Awake, this time.” I warned, poking him on the nose and earning a playful giggle from the grown man at my side. “She came a long way. She deserves it.”

He quickly got me back, grabbing my face and pulling me forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. And as much as I would have preferred one on the lips, I was grateful for his sudden modesty in front of his mother. It still felt strange.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safe please. And tell me when you get home.” He instructed as I nodded along, already having memorized the speech from every time I’d ever left him.

“Of course.” I murmured through a somewhat embarrassed pout before I got up and grabbed my things.

Before I made my way to the door, I stopped, turning to see Spencer take the seat beside his mother. She took his hand, but she looked at me. I thought about hugging her but knew that Spencer’s company was far superior to mine, and that every second I distracted her was one less she got with him. So, I settled for a wave and a smile.

“Goodnight Diana. Thanks for the talk.”

“Goodnight.” She returned, with a contented smile washing over her as her son rested his head on her shoulder. The final image of the two of them happy in each other’s company was enough to satisfy me until the next time I saw him. Because, like we’d just discussed, he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As I opened the door to leave, she spoke again. “Thank you.” She said, and I knew she was talking about more than the conversation.

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

| Part 19 |

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fandom-space-princess · 3 years

Text

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 3: Raphael

Read below the cut, or on AO3

************************************

With Gabriel gone, the shades begin to dissipate, and soon Michael finds himself alone once again.

It doesn’t last long.

“Well done,” comes a voice from behind him. The tone is the same as before, but now the words are spoken aloud. The entity’s form has shifted. It wears a body that, while still indistinct and hazy, appears far closer to human than it had previously done.

Michael scrambles to his feet. He can feel his own form shifting as well, physical appearance undergoing continental drift atop his roiling grace.

“You took her. Gabriel. What have you done with her?”

“Please try to keep up, my boy. I took nothing and no one. The messenger is safe and well, merely—well, let’s call it offstage, for the moment. And she came quite willingly, as you saw for yourself.” The entity folds its hands neatly in front of it. “I see that she has given you much to consider. I trust your time together was informative?”

“That’s—one way of phrasing it.” The entity moves away, beckoning, and Michael doesn’t fight the impulse to follow. At the termination of the crevice, just outside the circle of crumbling stones, he is unsurprised to see that the path continues deeper into the forest.

As they walk, low-hanging branches catch and drag at his hair, his clothing. Michael feels as though he might be leaving snippets of himself behind, like fur snagged in brambles along the trail. He thinks of Gabriel’s wispy audience with sorrow. “So much of the Host, dead and gone. So many shades. I knew, of course I knew. But seeing them there... it’s not the same.” Regret swirls within him, settling as a tightness around his eyes; he can feel it there, performing the subtle work of reshaping the image he wears.

Into what, though—he doesn’t yet know.

The being at his side nods, curt. “You must understand where your actions lead. Not solely for yourself, but for others. You cannot abdicate your duty to your nature by refusing to choose, any more than you can by making choices.” He gets the impression that it raises its eyebrows meaningfully in his direction. “In your brief period of freedom, you knew the state of Heaven, and yet you turned your back on your responsibilities. On Earth, with that human—that wasn’t choosing. You were hiding.”

The words dig at him, slivers of ice working their way into the center of his grace. Adam. “He needed me. And I needed to keep him safe.”

“That’s a partial truth at best, and I’ve no interest in coddling self-delusion. Try again.”

Being dead, he is discovering, has a way of making it harder to lie to himself. Shame flares low in his stomach. “I... I should have done better by them all. They were my family, and I failed them. I couldn’t face them. Couldn’t face—”

He stops. The path has led them to the edge of another river. Crystalline and clear, smooth as glass, it burbles quietly past their feet. It winds away in lazy curves, disappearing into the deeper shade of the trees.

Michael looks down at his reflection, and his Father’s face looks back at him.

A hand on his shoulder. “I am not without sympathy for your pain,” the being at his back says, gently. “But running from it is no solution. The realm of Heaven is in disarray. Without you and your kin, it will fall, new God or no. And then—whatever it is you love, whatever it is you fear—then there will truly be nothing left to salvage.”

Michael crouches down, touches fingertips to the image of Chuck’s face. Tiny ripples distort the surface, rebounding off each other, spreading and fading away. “This isn’t the Styx. None of this should be here at all. What have you done to the local reality? And to what purpose?”

“Ask your next brother. They always were the wisest of you.”

This time, Michael doesn’t need to turn to know he is alone.

************************************

He follows the river further into the wilds, meandering gradually down the mountainside. The underbrush thins with the change in altitude, and the straggling trees grow steadily sparser. Before long he finds himself among yet more ruins, though these appear considerably more modern than the last. The river glides through the bones of a forgotten city. He picks his way along streets of stone dwellings adorned by grand archways, airy courtyards, monolithic houses of worship. Mist twines in and among the silent remains of civilization, and everywhere he looks he sees the incursion of the forest: trees growing in cracking walls, moss overhanging low rooftops.

Near the center of the city, both buildings and trees grow abruptly denser once again. A thicket of olive trees and creeping ivy, solid and unassailable, tangle up through ruined foundations and collapsed walls. The river seeps between the roots and disappears under a wall, alongside a single narrow entryway into what must once have been a church. It is barely wide enough to permit him entrance.

He pushes forward, through the vines.

An uneasy aura pervades the air within, musty and stifling, heavy across his shoulders and thick in his lungs. The further in he travels, the stronger it becomes. As it intensifies, he realizes that the feeling is not solely physical; a heady and potent psychic residue that he recognizes as grief only when he finds himself choking back a sob, without understanding quite why.

Down an overgrown corridor, and as suddenly as the vegetation had closed in upon him, it clears. He finds himself in an interior courtyard, roof all but gone, open under the sky.

“So, I get to see you again, after all. Hello, Michael.”

He looks around, confused, for a moment unable to identify the source of the words. Then, all at once, he sees.

In the quiet grove that has sprung up to consume this once-thriving city stands a sparkling pool, the termination point of the river’s above-ground course. Here the water stagnates, swirling deeper into a reservoir carved through foundation and bedrock to disappear into the earth. A stand of trees grows about the edge, roots worming deep down to seek the water through cracks in the floor. What he had originally taken for a statue carved into that living wood shifts minutely. Raphael meditates among the trunks, limbs now gnarled branches, head crowned by thick twisting ivy.

They are, he realizes, the source of the pain imbuing this place. He circles the pool and seats himself beside them, back bending under the onerous weight of their distress.

“You’ve taken His face,” they observe. Their voice holds neither scorn nor approval. Only sorrow. “Don’t take this personally, but I don’t think it suits you.”

“I’m not so certain of that,” he replies morosely. He brushes his hand lightly over the back of one of their own, firm and warm as olive wood. “And you’ve given up on a human form at all. I didn’t realize you held any fondness for dryads.”

“I needed—a change of perspective.” There is, momentarily, a hint of wry smile in their voice. Even on their worst days, he reflects, Raphael always held a spark of gentleness. It makes him ache for them; warrior and healer both, the only one among them as truly skilled in restoring life as taking it. They had never needed his protection, but he should have done more to uplift and support them, still. “Hamadryads have no skin to stitch. No bones to set. They neither bleed, nor do they break. They put down roots, and they grow, and they watch the world pass. It’s a peaceable enough existence.”

“Brother, you—you do realize where we are.”

Raphael rolls their eyes. “I’m dead, Michael, not blind.” They shake their head, ivy tumbling back and out of their face. Michael realizes, abruptly, that the ivy is a deep emerald green; like the blindfold Gabriel had worn, it is the only point of color against the otherwise monochrome environment.

“Then maybe you can enlighten me. I was sent to find you. By... well, I still don’t really know by who.”

“Don’t you, though?”

“I don’t,” he replies, adamant. “I can’t see the purpose to this, any of this. We are asked to return to the world, but to what end? What makes him think—” Michael breaks off, defeated.

“What makes him think we’d do any good for it this time around?” Raphael finishes knowingly.

Michael studies his reflection in the water, and says nothing.

They shake their head again, turning to contemplate the pool. “Did you know this pool has no bottom? If you fell in, you’d sink for eternity. There’d be no point in swimming; you couldn’t save yourself.”

“Why do you sound like you’re considering it?”

Raphael sighs. “I tried so hard, Michael. I fought and bled and died for our family, and still, it fell apart. You’re wearing His face, and for what? You blame yourself?” They look down at their palms, loose in their lap. The wood there is stained; in a place with light, with color, Michael wonders with a shiver if the stains might not appear the ruddy brown of old blood. “But I was our healer, Brother. And I tried and I tried, but I couldn’t heal anyone.” The sadness in the atmosphere redoubles, clawing over Michael’s skin.

Their voice cracks. “I couldn’t even heal myself. He wouldn’t even allow me that much.”

Michael’s head drops to his hands. This agony, like a breaking bone or a breaking heart, has been eating at their foundations for so long. Gabriel struck speechless, Raphael in tatters, and himself—what had he done for them? Other than carry out the edicts of a creator who treated his creation as no better than toys, to be discarded when He was bored of them?

He feels tears bead at the corners of his eyes, and overflow. To his astonishment, they do not fall onto his hands. He draws back in surprise.

The tears hang suspended in the air before him, crystalline. Gently revolving, they slowly coalesce, and descend toward the pool. When at last they meet the surface of the water, they merge without a single ripple marring the glassy shine.

Raphael watches, impassive. “Our pain is not weakness, Michael. This grief... it took some time, but I did eventually come to understand. Why I awoke here, that is. You met Gabriel at the Styx? Fitting. Judgement always was her burden to bear. But this... this is mine. The Kokytos is fed by the tears of mourners.” Their voice rings hollow, but there is an underpinning of tenderness there, Michael thinks. Something patient. Something compassionate. “My own contribution was long overdue.”

“How do you know where I came from? And why the rivers at all?”

“My stubborn, immovable brother.” Raphael’s smile is weary, but fond, even in their grief. “This place is his to command, he who sent you here, beyond mortality as it is. Knowledge flows through it. You need only listen for it.”

Michael scrubs hands across his eyes, and takes slow, steadying breaths. “Raphael. You don't belong here, not like this. Please. Move on from this place with me. We can do it together.”

Their eyes crinkle at the corners. Gently, they extend a hand down to break the surface of the pool. “No, Michael. In that, you are mistaken. It has been too long since I allowed myself to sit with my pain, and learn what it has to teach me. Give me time. I’ll catch up with you.” They draw the hand to their face. Trace their fingers over their lips. The tip of their tongue flicks out, catching at the water that beads there. “If I am to heal, first I must let myself mourn. Don’t worry too much about me. I know how far the river of lamentation runs; I will not drink so deeply of this well that I drown.”

The thought of leaving Raphael behind fills him with dread, but he nods. Stands. They reach up to him, trace a hand over his wrist as he pulls away.

“I wish I could have done more for you, too,” they murmur. “But you aren’t Him, Michael. Please remember that. You’re nothing like Him. I wish I could have helped you to see that more clearly.”

Michael resists the urge to look back into the pool, to see his reflection there. “I don’t know what I am. But I’ll keep searching until I do know.”

“That’s all I could hope for. See you soon.”

He feels the edges of his countenance shift and blur again. When he exits the room, his companion is waiting.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- The city in which Michael finds Raphael is inspired by the ghost city of Kayaköy, currently part of Turkey; by its former inhabitants, it was referred to in modern Greek as Levissi. Between World War I and the Greco-Turkish war, its entire population was either forcibly exiled or killed. Despite the horror of that recent history, until that point it had been a relatively peaceful place, its mixed Muslim and Orthodox Christian populations living together harmoniously. It is now officially under the protection of historical conservation, and there have been some attempts at restoration. I think Raphael would consider such a place deeply meaningful, and be able to find healing in the possibility of moving on even in the wake of such tragedy.)

#hugs for raphael <3 #spnarchangelweek #day 2 raphael #michael spn #gabriel spn #raphael spn #lucifer spn #my fanfic #spn #supernatural

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hongism · 4 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 29

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 5.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part four

Silence is like an old friend: always present and there for you even when everyone and everything else left you. You find comfort in the quiet, and as such, you normally wouldn’t find yourself so bothered by the absence of sound. Yet here you are, standing a few feet from Jongho’s bed in a room that is all too cold and all too quiet. Truly, there isn’t much to say, but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to speak up and offer some sort of weak attempt to get him to stay. Before you can, however, San beats you to it. You aren’t sure whether to be grateful or not because the lingering goodbye just hovers on your tongue now.

“Are you truly going to do this, Jongho?”

The Berserker hesitates where he stands near the bed, hands clasped around a small bundle of clothes. For a moment, you think he’s going to ignore San’s question and continue to pack in silence. Then, he offers a shrug.

“Hongjoong didn’t stop me, did he?” You shake your head with a certain fervor to your movements.

“There’s no way he wants you to leave,” you counter. Perhaps it is merely an attempt to cling to that hope, but the Hongjoong you saw in his quarters was a version of him you’ve never seen before. Jongho shifts to look at you, eyes a bit melancholy as he drags his gaze over your face.

“Obviously information is far more important than I am.” He says the words with a bit of a laugh to his tone, though all three of you know that there’s no humor to be found in this situation. Your lips fold into a delicate frown.

“Why is this even an issue? Is there a reason why Hongjoong is so adamant about bringing Mingi to the arena? Why can’t he just stay on the ship while the rest of us go on the mission?” You shake your head a bit as you ask the questions and drop your gaze to the floor. There is no reasonable explanation as to why Hongjoong would behave this way in your mind, no matter how many excuses you try to give in his defense.

“Because Vladimir plays dirty,” San says through a sigh. “He knows that Mingi is on this crew, and he’s been after Mingi for years. Offered countless deals and bargains for Mingi’s head, trying to get Hongjoong to give him up. Hongjoong has always turned down the offers without a second thought, but that doesn’t keep Vladimir from trying time and time again. He wants Mingi. And he is a man who is used to getting what he wants.”

“Do you think that what he’s after?” You inquire, blinking over to where San stands with arms folded neatly over his chest.

“If he has agreed to meet Hongjoong, then yeah. That means he, in the very least, has eyes on the ship. So if he sees every member of the crew leave the ship except for Mingi, his men will ambush and take Mingi by any means necessary. Even if someone stays behind with Mingi, the risk is still there. Thus… Hongjoong would rather risk Mingi having an episode in the arena or take the easy way out and wipe his brain.”

“But why?” It still doesn’t make sense to you, but at this rate, it’s seeming less and less likely that it will ever make sense. “That seems too pricy a cost for such a small risk, along with the assumption that Mingi can’t protect himself.”

“It isn’t about cost,” Jongho cuts in. “Nor is it a failure to believe in Mingi’s capabilities. It’s… deeper than that. Hongjoong always worries about something happening to Mingi when he isn’t there. He thinks it’s risky enough to send Mingi with San and me, but he can’t bring him to Vladimir. That would be the worst of all shitty ass ideas. Do I see the logic in bringing Mingi to the arena? Of course, I do. Having him be off to the side and in one of the wings – that would make it easier to keep him out of Vladimir’s sights. It would help him blend in with the crowd, hide from whatever guards Vladimir will have, more space to run if the need arises. You can’t do that on a ship with only a few exits. Hongjoong is thinking, and he’s thinking hard, yes, but at the same time, he’s being a complete dumbass.”

The steady thrum of silence follows Jongho’s explanation, and you can’t come up with anything to say in response. Neither can San, or so it seems, because he offers a nod but nothing other than that. Then, like a switch being flipped in his brain, he spins to face you with inquisitive eyes.

“You’re the only one here who has actually had the procedure done.” It isn’t spoken like a question, moreso a fact, but you find yourself responding as though it is one nonetheless.

“Yes? As far as I’m aware.”

“Well, that would also make you the only person who knows what it’s like to go through that even if the memories of it are hazy and foggy.” You press your lips tightly together, unable to look San in the eye any longer. The embarrassment of your earlier collapse and partial breakdown is still fresh, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you also are struggling to get past the harsh memory. “Would you willingly subject another person to that?”

Ah, morality. An equally funny and tricky thing to handle in any situation. Now, it seems even more delicate and fragile, something you have to weigh ever so carefully to keep from saying the wrong thing. What is wrong when it comes to criminals though? Are there different rules to play by, a separate set of guidelines that all should follow to decide what’s best, or does one leave it to fate instead? Let the universe decide how morality should be weighed on the scales of justice?

You’ve never been one to listen to the universe, even when it stands in your path and screams for you to listen.

“Only if they want it,” you start in a whispered tone. “Never against their will obviously but… but if someone were to ask for it and agree to it, then yes.”

“So if Mingi truly wants it, then you would be okay with the method?” San’s question stops you in your tracks. Perhaps you have said the wrong thing or made a mistake in saying what you did — you are well aware of what San’s response would be, so maybe that is why he is so frustrated with yours. San would have you say that it is impermissible under any and all circumstances, even with clearly defined guidelines and consent. His morals make you question your own even though you know where he is coming from. To him, it is all a matter of relations. Having a relationship with a solid foundation means that it is perfectly alright to think that way. Yet using San’s moral guidelines, that would mean that the closer you get to someone, the more you take away from them. Their choice, their thought process, how they decide things, even their own moral standards. Can you truly permit that in good conscience? For once, your answer seems clear.

“Yes,” you relent after a few breaths of hesitation. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Would you say the same if it were myself or Jongho? Or Seonghwa?” Again, you hesitate – this time longer than before, and you almost neglect to answer the question entirely. You muster up the courage at the last second, however, but you don’t think it’s the response San wants to hear still.

“Again, if it’s what you truly want, then why would it be fair for someone to stop you? Why take away that choice?”

“But Hongjoong is taking away Mingi’s choice now!” Jongho argues, stepping towards you with knitted brows. “He is abusing his power as Captain! He knows that Mingi would do absolutely anything that he told him to do. It’s not free will or a choice if someone only gives you one option.”

“And yet… it’s not all Hongjoong, is it?” San inquires through a delicate frown. “Yunho is the one who brought it up and made it an option in the first place.”

Jongho brings a hand to his hair, carding his fingers through the dark locks sitting atop his head. He drops his gaze to the floor too and refuses to look in San’s direction until he makes it back to where he was packing clothes.

“Yeah, I already ripped into him for that.”

“Do you know why he did it? It doesn’t make sense for Yunho of all people to bring it up. Out of everyone, he’s the one with the strongest moral compass, so why – no, how – how could he do something so immoral?”

“Morals are different for everyone.” Jongho huffs air through his nose and lets the sound fill the air without interruption for several moments. “What’s moral to one person could be wholly immoral to another. Look at how Mingi was raised, how he was taught that the way he thinks is right and that it’s the proper method of thought and morality. Others consider him to be an immoral monster with no concept of right and wrong, but in his own mind, that isn’t how it works. Yunho… Yunho genuinely believes that doing this is truly the only option. We’ve never seen eye to eye on Mingi’s condition, of course, but – or how to help, now that I think about it – but I know I can’t convince Yunho to change his mind. Hongjoong however? I can change his mind for certain.”

“What do y–” The door interrupts you, sliding open before you can complete the question, and you whip to face the source of the sound. San and Jongho move with you, eyes reaching the door before yours do. You almost expect to find Hongjoong standing there just based on the sigh that through Jongho’s lips, but you’re even more surprised to see that it is Seonghwa instead. He pauses midstride upon seeing you, no doubt expecting to find Jongho alone in the room. His mouth hangs slightly open as his eyes dart up to meet yours. The stare lingers too long, continuing to bore into you as he shifts his chin in Jongho’s direction.

“Lieutenant,” Jongho greets. His tone is cold and flat, almost like nothing is different about this situation. You know better than to believe that. Jongho’s next words only solidify that fact. “I suppose that’s the last time I’ll be calling you that.”

It’s like a knife in the chest yet somehow ten times worse. San’s expression visibly twists, and he turns away so that no one sees the extent of his pain.

“Don’t think so negatively, Jongho,” Seonghwa murmurs as he steps further into the room. “Hongjoong doesn’t want you to leave. Why would he ever want that?”

“Then why isn’t he here to tell me that himself?” Jongho snorts out a laugh following the harsh question. “Why is it that good Lieutenant Park always does the dirty work for him?”

“Come now, Jongho. Don’t get bitter now of all times.”

“Oh, fuck off! Let me be bitter! Mingi is the only fucking person on this ship who knows what it’s like to feel the way I feel and suffer the way I suffer. He’s the only person who I think can give me the redemption I need so desperately. He has always been my responsibility and mine alone. I know how to help him, I believe in him, and I put some damn faith in him getting better without any fucking procedures. I can be bitter all I want because Hongjoong is putting zero faith in Mingi.”

“I understand, Jongho.”

In the blink of an eye, Jongho has moved from the edge of the bed to the wall, the only thing between him and the metal being Seonghwa. His hand closes around Seonghwa’s throat while the other draws back as though he’s about to punch the lieutenant.

“You don’t understand shit!”

Seonghwa doesn’t dare to budge, but both you and San snap into action, rushing to grab Jongho and pull him off the other man. Before you have the chance to do anything, Seonghwa lifts his hand and makes a halting motion.

“You can hit me if it’ll make you feel better.”

Jongho’s fist wavers where it is, and he lowers it back down to his side after a moment without doing anything. His hand falls away from Seonghwa’s throat as well, letting the lieutenant breathe easily once more, and he steps away while heaving a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t take everything for Hongjoong. If I’m gonna hit someone, it’ll be him.” Jongho waves a hand towards the door. “If all you came here to do was be a punching bag for Hongjoong, then you can go.”

“No, actually... that’s not why I came.” Seonghwa pushes himself off the wall, straightening the collar of his turtleneck as best he can. “I don’t want to use the serum, Jongho. I don’t want Mingi to go near the arena at all. Hongjoong and I -- we never came to an agreement about it after everyone left. He merely made the decision as the captain. I tried my best to change his mind, I truly did, but I couldn’t -- I-I don’t understand why I couldn’t.” Seonghwa’s gaze darts to the floor, looking over the patterns along the carpet before pulling back up to look Jongho in the eye. He stretches a hand out and clamps it over Jongho’s shoulder. The Berserker allows the touch, albeit begrudgingly. “I truly don’t want any harm to come to Mingi, but I can’t stop Hongjoong just by talking to him.”

Seonghwa glances past Jongho’s shoulder to stare San in the eye with such intensity to his gaze that you get a chill down your spine.

“The mission tomorrow cannot be successful under any circumstances.”

“Yes, you’re right.” San hums to himself for a moment, then looks off to the side. “The only way to stop Hongjoong from getting his way would be to fail to get the serum. What’s the plan then? We should destroy the serum if we find it, no?” San turns to you now, eyes expectant and waiting for some sort of input on your part, but you genuinely don’t know what he wants you to say.

Instead of saying anything, you shift your chin in the opposite direction and avoid his probing stare.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you mutter back quickly.

No matter which way you look at the situation, you can only see it as taking away Mingi’s choice. No one is asking him what he wants, and while you understand the reasoning behind that, you cannot grasp how this is the just thing to do. Whether you give him the serum or not, he won’t have a say in the matter. Where is the line drawn? When it comes to morality, when is it okay to take away someone’s consent and leave them with nothing? Surely when it comes to protecting them, but both these options... both can defend him. What then?

No one presses you for answers, and you’re immensely grateful for that because it allows you to ask your next question with relative ease.

“How are we going to pull this off with Yeosang on the mission? Wouldn’t he tell Hongjoong?”

“Even Yeosang will see reason,” San argues. A sigh passes through Seonghwa’s slightly parted lips.

“I would take Yeosang’s place on the mission, but given my resistance to the plan... that would be suspicious. Hongjoong knows me far too well and would see through it in an instant. He picked Yeosang and San because they follow orders best and do what’s asked of them. And he picked Y/N because she’s the one with the most military experience. Yeosang has experience but… he was a prince, not a soldier. His specialty was out in the field, whereas yours was in teams, working in units, not being at the front of the line. That’s why you’re being put on the team, for that experience.”

“Experience that’s absolutely useless,” you snort, folding your arms over your chest. “I don’t remember what the serum looked like. And no offense, but I sure as hell don’t want to try to remember what it looked like either.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Seonghwa shakes his head, barely sparing you a second glance in favor of looking at San. “In order to get the serum, you’ll be breaking into a military base.”

“Have you gone fucking mad?” San seethes, hands balling into tight fists at his sides. Seonghwa levels him with ease and sends such a heated glare his way that Jongho stands up a bit straighter.

“If you think even for a second that I did not try my damndest to get Hongjoong to change the plan, you would be horribly wrong,” Seonghwa hisses through gritted teeth. San shifts under the weight of his tone but doesn’t say anything in response. “The only reason I left Hongjoong’s quarters was to keep from knocking him out. If there was any other option, I would take it.”

Jongho clears his throat and effectively breaks the tension between the two men, shaking his head slightly as he steps closer to them.

“There is another option.” Jongho jerks his head towards you and San. He points a single finger in your direction, aimed right at your head, and you press your lips together tightly as confusion washes over you. “I’m leaving in the morning at the same time as you two and Yeosang are to leave for the mission. You will have comms on hand, obviously. Yeosang and San can sneak into the base, guided by you over comms, but you won’t have to set foot inside. And at least for your peace of mind and security, I can stay with you at a secure location while you guide them through the base.”

“That...” Seonghwa trails off and draws his lips together in a tight knot. “That might work, actually.”

“Wow, don’t sound so surprised.”

“No, I’m not surprised,” Seonghwa retorts through a scoff. “I’ll be in charge of listening over comms throughout the mission. If we can come up with a system – a sort of code word – to keep Hongjoong from catching on, we might be able to pull this off. I’ll be at the comms station on the bridge, so Hongjoong won’t hear anything except for what I say. Thus, I can’t very well say that it’s time to destroy the serum.”

“When I was – in my team in the military, we had a system for explosive and detonation squadrons,” you cut in, fingers snapping together in sudden realization.

“I didn’t realize you were a part of an explosives team,” Seonghwa remarks. His brows draw together a bit as he speaks, and you can sense the question on his lips before he even asks it.

“That’s the thing you’re most concerned about right now?” You don’t intend for the question to come out so aggressive, and the slight shock that passes over Seonghwa’s expression only serves to make you feel ten times worse about the slip of your tongue. “Anyway, there was always a worry of someone listening in on our comms, so it was a failsafe more than anything else, but we used ‘package’ as a keyword for a bomb. ‘Secure the package’ meant it was time to place the bomb, ‘package secured’ meant that the bomb was in place and ready to be detonated, and ‘come home’ was a go signal for detonation. A bit basic, yes, but useful nonetheless.”

“That should be a perfect plan, no?” San inquires, blinking over at where Seonghwa is standing. The lieutenant maintains his stare on you for quite some time; he almost seems lost in thought to a certain degree, and it takes San clearing his throat for Seonghwa to snap out of it.

“Yes, we’ll just need the package to be the serum rather than a bomb. Jongho—” he outstretches a hand to the Berserker, hesitating a few inches from his arm, “—does this mean that you’ll stay then?”

“Only if you manage to pull this off.”

“I’d like to think I know what I’m doing.” Seonghwa huffs out a light laugh and pulls his hand back to run it through his hair. “This isn’t the first time I’ve gone against Hongjoong’s wishes. Right now though, someone needs to go talk to Yeosang about this plan. Preferably one of you two.” Seonghwa angles two fingers towards you and San, and you glance over at the Spectre before saying anything yourself.

“Yeosang will never listen to me,” San cuts in with a sharp shake of his head. “And I’m not all too inclined to have a one on one conversation with him anyway.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jongho mutters through a sigh. “I need to talk to Wooyoung about… this mess. I know he’s the most upset by it.”

“Right, that’ll be fine.” Seonghwa thumbs over his chin, seeming to drift off into thought once more. The wear is starting to show more clearly on his features; the way his blinking has slowed considerably and become a bit hard to keep up with. It’s more than evident that he is struggling to stay awake with each passing second, and that alone makes you wonder exactly how much he and Hongjoong have been up over this past week in preparation for this mission. “Y/N, inform Yeosang of the plan. If Wooyoung is there, it should be easier to convince him since Wooyoung will most certainly agree with the plan. Hopefully, this can be a smooth and painless mission for once, but nonetheless… good luck. I won’t be able to talk to any of you until we’re on comms tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to Yunho about what the hell is going through his head in all this mess.”

Seonghwa turns to the door and readies himself to leave, but Jongho doesn’t let him get far, hand darting out to catch hold of the lieutenant’s arm.

“Keep… keep working on Hongjoong, would you?” Jongho’s request is spoken in a soft tone, and he barely glances up at Seonghwa as he speaks. Seonghwa smiles back at him even though the other man can’t see his expression.

“Of course. We’ll get this worked out as best we can.”

Jongho’s hand falls away from his arm, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to step out of the room without saying anything else. The silence that drapes over the remaining three of you is not welcome, but you relish in it while you can, knowing that these next few days won’t be peaceful in the slightest. San lets it linger for a few seconds, fingers combing through his dark hair, then he releases a deep sigh.

“Good luck with Yeosang. You’ll need it. I’m gonna head down to the hangar bay to get weapons sorted for tomorrow.”

Jongho nods, and you follow suit quickly when San’s gaze travels over to where you’re standing. He smiles a bit, gaze unreadable as he moves out the door and leaves you and Jongho alone. There’s an opportunity now – you could ask Jongho if he’s truly alright now that it’s just the two of you, but your voice dies in the back of your throat before you can even think about what to say.

“Let’s go get this over with. I’m not looking forward to chatting with Wooyoung.”

“Why not?” You rush to ask the question before you can second-guess yourself, falling into step with Jongho as he leads the way out of the room.

“Outside of Yeosang, I’m the closest to him but… if there was a way to avoid this, then I would have done it. There’s always too much collateral damage when it comes to fights like these. Hurting him is the last thing I wanted to do.” Jongho pauses, lips stuttering and remaining parted for quite some time before he speaks again. “The worst part about being a Berserker isn’t the – the rage or the violent tendencies I feel. It’s t-the pain. When I hurt someone I care about, I feel that pain so strongly, and I – sometimes I wish I could be like Mingi instead, not have the ability to feel bad when that pain comes or not be able to understand it because understanding is worse. This just… it has to work out.”

“It will,” you murmur. Your eyes trace the edges of Jongho’s features – his knitted brows and downcast gaze – and you are in the midst of reaching out to grab his arm when he halts all of a sudden. You forgot how short the walk would be; you’re already standing outside Yeosang’s door, the metal nameplate on the wall reading his name in small letters. Jongho knocks hard at the door with the back of his hand.

“Yeosang, you in there?”

A high-pitched yelp resounds, followed by a hefty thud that sounds something like a body hitting the floor, then Wooyoung’s squealing tone apologizing, and you and Jongho exchange confused glances. Whatever hit the floor – most like Yeosang from the sounds of it – groans and pulls itself up before coming to the door and heaving a deep sigh. The metal panel slides open to reveal a disheveled Yeosang, hair a mess but overall collected. Wooyoung seems to be in a much more scrambled state with his shirt haphazard and untucked, eyes bloodshot – no doubt from crying – and lips a bit swollen and redder than usual.

“Oh, yikes, did we interrupt something?” Jongho asks, taking a step away from the door.

“Oh, shut up!” Wooyoung huffs as he shoves his way past Yeosang to tackle Jongho with a tight hug. “You’re a dick,” he mumbles into Jongho’s shoulder, and the Berserker laughs at the snarky remark.

“You got me there, I’ll admit it.”

“Why are you here?” Yeosang cuts through the intimate moment to question you, eyes glaring holes into your skull as you linger outside the room.

“I – We need to talk about the mission,” you explain. Yeosang arches a brow at you and continues to stare without making a sound, then he draws his arms up to fold over his chest. “It’s important, Yeosang.”

“Hm, must be for you to actually call me by name. Come in.” He waves you into the room, eyeing Wooyoung as the man continues to cling to Jongho for dear life. You step in and wait for the door to snap shut before beginning to speak again.

“Tomorrow, you and San are going into the military alone. I’ll be with Jongho at a different location guiding you over comms. Seonghwa is going to be listening in and helping where he needs to, as well as keeping Hongjoong from figuring out what’s going on. We’ll ne–”

“And what exactly is going on?” Yeosang interjects. His gaze grows colder by the second, hitting you with such intensity that you feel a chill rush through your body.

“Keeping Hongjoong from getting the serum,” you counter. You’re pushing as much assertiveness as you can into your tone, yet Yeosang still seems unfazed. “We have to keep him from wiping Mingi’s mind!”

“And why is that?”

“Why is that? Are you being fucking serious? Why the hell wouldn’t you be okay with this?” Your tone practically burns your throat as you hiss the words out. You dare to take a step in his direction, but that quickly turns out to be a horrid mistake.

Yeosang sneers, upper lip curling upwards, then suddenly his fist connects with your stomach. You double over at the impact, and Wooyoung is calling out Yeosang’s name, but the blond is already hellbent on giving you a piece of his mind. Lithe fingers curl around the base of your neck and push you back until you slam against the wall. There’s a striking sense of familiarity to this position – one that takes you back to the dusty desert of Medra where Yeosang left you with a thinly veiled threat concerning your intentions on the ship and crew.

“You are on thin fucking ice as it is, Y/N. I only maintain civilities with you for Wooyoung’s sake, but honestly, I would have no qualms ending your life where you stand now if not for him. You had best take into consideration that you are not one of us. You haven’t been on this crew nearly long enough to be making such demands, and you haven’t earned an ounce of respect from me. If I were you, I wouldn’t dare to test my patience any more than you already have.”

“Yeosang, stop!”

Wooyoung pulls away from Jongho and starts to move towards where Yeosang has you pinned. The fingers around your throat tighten to a dangerous degree. Black fills the edges of your vision.

“Yeosang.” Wooyoung slips through the small gap between you and Yeosang, hands sliding up to cup Yeosang’s cheeks. Yeosang doesn’t relent in his grip. He stares past Wooyoung’s head in favor of glaring at you and doesn’t budge an inch as Wooyoung tries to push him back. “Stop it. Let her go. She’s right about this, and you know it. Are you really okay with forcing Mingi into this? All the progress we’ve made over the years would go down the drain, and for what? Absolutely nothing. Do you really think this is right?”

Yeosang’s grip wavers against your throat, but he still refuses to budge. Wooyoung pushes his head, the grip on his jaw tightening as he forces Yeosang to look at him.

“Look at me, Yeo. Look at me, please.”

“I’m an Elitist, Wooyoung, not some easily swayed Normie with a moral compass. It is in my nature to choose the most logical option. Getting on Hongjoong’s bad side isn’t logical. That won’t protect you in the long run. Taking away the most dangerous part of Mingi, taking away his aggression and hypersensitive trigger happy nature – that protects you.” Wooyoung snorts, head turning to the side as he laughs at Yeosang’s logic.

“Then tell me, Yeo, was shooting the chains of a prisoner and pushing him into an airlock the logical decision?” Yeosang’s eyes flash with barely contained rage. “Or was it the right thing to do?”

Wooyoung drops his hands away from Yeosang’s face and tugs at the bindings over his injured hand. Yeosang doesn’t seem to process what he’s doing fast enough, and neither do you or Jongho because next thing you know, Wooyoung has his sleeve pulled up and is ripping at the barely closed wound. By the time Yeosang snaps into action, hand wrenching off your throat to stretch towards Wooyoung’s arm, blood already drips down the length of his forearm. Wooyoung smacks Yeosang’s desperate hand away from him and steps out of his reach.

“You can protect me from all sorts of things in the universe, Yeo, but you can’t protect me from myself. The logical thing to do would be to keep me from hurting myself, not allowing it, locking me up in chains and a straight-jacket. Put me in a room with padded walls and no sharp object where I can’t hurt myself. But you can’t do the logical thing, can you?” Wooyoung curls his fingers into a fist and extends his index finger towards Yeosang’s chest. Blood drips to the floor with the motion, and when Wooyoung jabs his finger into Yeosang’s torso, the Elitist lurches as though punched. “There’s a difference between a logical thing and a good thing. It’s time to do the right thing. If not for Mingi, then for me. Because I’m asking you to.”

Yeosang blinks down at the finger pressed to his chest without saying anything for what feels like an eternity. When he next looks up, his expression has lost every ounce of hostility. He matches Wooyoung’s stare with a considerably gentler one, and something akin to pride shines in his dark eyes before he shifts to face you once more.

“I’m on board for now. At least until it’s not the right thing to do anymore.”

✧✧✧ a/n: hi guys wow this was longer than i anticipated??? i didn’t mean for it to be so long whoopsie bUT!!! big chapter kinda a filler chapter i was gonna make it longer but i decided to save that for the next chapter, so this one is more of an intimate in depth look at things 👀 how do we feel!!!

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Three ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3857

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Thanks for your response to the previous chapters! I hope you all are doing well <3

In the morning, it’s Orophin who wakes me. I accept his offer of breakfast readily, even if it’s more of the same bread and now-soggy fruit. Rumil offers me a knowing smile, promising more interesting food once we sit at Elrond’s table, and I hold on to that hope. After a hasty breakfast, I work on finishing mending the two tunics. I’m nearly done when I feel a presence behind me and turn my head.

Haldir stands, tall and intimidating as ever, peering over my shoulder.

I purse my lips, trying to hold in a laugh. His behavior is so much stranger than that of the others. “Yes?”

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing my work, then nods once. “That will do. Thank you for your work.” He raises his voice so all can hear. “We leave in ten minutes.” He holds out a hand, and I place the shirts there, still trying to get over hearing the words ‘thank you’ from him. I honestly didn’t think he was the type.

The more you know, I guess.

Like the others, I hurry to pack my things. Because, over the limited time I’ve spent with this group, I quickly came to realize that when Haldir says ten minutes, he actually means ten minutes, and only ten minutes. I stifle a laugh. Mara would never—

A gasp tears through my throat, and I drop my bag.

Sharp tings ring through the air — the sound of metals scraping against each other. Absently, I recognize it as the sound of swords being drawn from their scabbards.

Haldir appears at my side, gripping my elbow and drawing me nearer to him. “What is it?” His voice is low, urgent, and, though he speaks to me, his eyes never pause their scan of our surroundings.

Belatedly, I realize my error. Of course they would think I saw something of concern. But the memory is taking form now, my head begins to pound and ache with the effort, and I have to work to assemble a sentence. I don’t want to lose focus, to lose the memories. “No, it’s—” I try to explain, try to communicate that we’re not in any danger—that I know of. “I only…” I bring a hand to my temple and take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “It’s not an attack, sorry for scaring you guys. It’s just, well, I’m remembering something.”

Baranor jogs over to me, sheathing his sword. Haldir is much slower to relax, and releases my arm in favor of walking the perimeter of our camp.

“Tell us about it,” Baranor encourages. “It might help you recall more.”

“It’s nothing helpful or important,” I preface apologetically, but he only waves it off.

“Any memory is a sign of recovery. Now, go on!”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to remember as much as possible. The initial ache in my head is fading, though it sharpens when I try to concentrate too hard on any one detail. “I was thinking of how I better hurry up and get my supplies together because Haldir is the type of person—well, you guys would say ellon, I guess—who means what he says, so I sure as hell better be ready in ten minutes. Then, out of nowhere, I remembered a friend from home—Mara. She’s…” the memory warps and dips out of sight, but I chase after it, feeling my pulse race. I want to remember. I want to know more. The memory comes back to me and I am rewarded for my efforts with more details about my friend. “She’s taller than me but shorter than you, has a pixie cut, and always wears these ridiculous blue sneakers, no matter the occasion.” I feel a pang of fondness for this important person I’ve only just remembered. Is this what missing someone is like? “But I think she came to mind because she’s always late, to the point where, if I hosted a party or something, I would have to tell her it started earlier than it did in the hope that she would show up on time. Oh, it would make—” And the progress stops. I strain my mind, trying to force it to go deeper, to learn more, to try harder, but nothing happens. All I receive in return is a splitting headache, one that makes me grimace against the pain. I can’t remember anything else about Mara, or place her in any other memories, or find the person she always angered with her tardiness.

Feeling a little defeated, I shrug.

Baranor gives me an encouraging smile, shaking his head. “You are doing well. I think, with adequate rest and time for your head to heal, and perhaps some intervention of Elrond’s, you will have your memory restored. Do not lose hope.”

I accept his reassurance, as well as his leg-up for the horse, and spend the remainder of the morning wracking my brain, searching for more memories of a friend I didn’t know I had.

{***}

By midday, the sun is bearing down on us hotter than it has before. I shed my cloak, using my newly acquired riding proficiency to keep my balance while tucking the fabric into my bag. I glance at my companions, each of whom wears a metal chest plate, a bow and quiver on his back, and various swords and knives on his belt. It makes me feel overheated just looking at them. “How are you all not miserable in that armor? I’m burning up and I’m just in a tunic and leggings!”

“Ah, dear Cosima, you are mistaken.” Rumil pulls up next to me and Baranor, shaking his head in mock sadness. “You see, we are miserable. We are absolutely baking with all the added weight we carry.”

From his spot ahead of us, Orophin snorts, a noise I’m not sure I’ve ever heard from him. “This is nothing, little brother. You weren’t part of the guard when Haldir made us run for miles during the hottest part of the day in the hottest part of the summer in full battle armor and weaponry for seven days in a row.”

“Ah, yes.” Haldir chimes in, and I can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. It softens it slightly, makes him sound less harsh. “I remember that drill. Perhaps I should bring it back. It seems the newer members of the guard aren’t as well-adjusted as those who went through such special training.”

Rumil visibly pales. “Haldir you wouldn’t.”

“Oh I most certainly would,” he shoots back, his signature haughty tone coming forth once again. But he turns his head over his shoulder, giving his youngest brother a teasing look.

I laugh, caught off guard by Haldir’s playfulness and Rumil’s woeful expression. Haldir returns facing forward and rolls his shoulder back, seeming perfectly pleased with the knowledge that he can still torment his little brother. I twist to stick my tongue out at Rumil, who responds with a glare.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Cosima.” I snap my head back in Haldir’s direction. Surely he’s not… “If you decide to return to Lothlórien with us, I am having you fitted with armor for the return journey.” He turns over his shoulder once more, fixing me with a single raised eyebrow. “And it will be well into summer by then.”

He turns away, apparently not phased by the quiet chuckles of Orophin and Baranor, nor the gleeful guffaws of Rumil.

“Rude,” I mutter under my breath, but this only makes them all laugh harder.

The sparse cloud cover shifts and the rays of the sun concentrate on the top of my head. Its warmth knots and multiples in the tangles of my hair, and I want nothing more than to have some relief from the awful heat. I grimace, wishing I had something to use to put my hair up. I steal jealous looks at my companions who call themselves elves. Their hair is just as long as mine and it doesn’t seem to bother them one bit. While mine collects frizz like it’s gold, their hair remains perfectly straight and smooth, falling over their shoulders almost languidly. My inspection of their hair reveals something I hadn’t taken much notice of before — the subtle yet intricate braids each of them wears. And though there is hair wrapped around the end of each braid, obscuring what I hope is there, something has to be holding the braids in place—right? Otherwise, they would fall and sit straight like the hair is made to.

It’s worth the ask.

I raise my voice a bit, calling out to the whole group. “Long shot, but does anyone have a hair tie? Preferably big enough for me to get around all of my hair?”

Orophin and Baranor shake their heads. Rumil makes a show of checking his wrists and the pouch attached to his belt, but comes back with only a look of apology.

Shoot.

Though he never falters in keeping his horse at a quick pace, I notice Haldir twist slightly, rummaging through one of his bags. Quick as a flash, he tosses something behind him which Rumil catches easily, though I myself can barely follow the object’s movements. Rumil grins, presenting me with a tan, thin circle of leather. He demonstrates spreading his fingers and the leather stretches.

I take the hair tie, smiling broadly. Perfect. “Thanks, Haldir!” He says nothing, only nods in acknowledgment. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He’s back to business, then.

Rumil brings his horse closer to the one Baranor and I ride, and I notice even Orophin shooting me interested looks. I raise an eyebrow self-consciously. “What?”

Rumil scrutinizes the hair tie, then the waves that fall down my back. “What are you going to do with a tie that large?”

I squint, partially at the shift in the sun’s angle, and partially in confusion at Rumil’s question. “I’m…going to put it up in a bun?” The looks they give me have me questioning my choice. Is that wrong, somehow?

Baranor tilts his head towards me as much as he can. “A bun?”

“Yeah, I—wait.” I pause, recalling that they only way they’ve worn their hair so far is down with the small braids added in. “Do you guys leave your hair down all the time?”

“For the most part.” Rumil shrugs. “Sometimes during battle or heavy training we will tie it all back in one or a few braids, but elves traditionally let their hair grow long and leave it down.”

“Interesting,” I murmur, taking the time to really look at each of their heads. Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin’s braids have similarities, but are in no way identical, and Baranor’s are completely different. I begin to catch on. “So, do the braids mean something, then?”

“Exactly,” Rumil nods, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s up to the elf to decide what to put in their hair, but most at least indicate where they hail from and from which family. Most warriors will denote who they are with braids—healers and scholars, too. If you are courting, that’s a specific braid as well, to show other elves that you are off-limits unless the courtship is broken.”

I smile, seeing their hair in a whole new light. “I never knew they meant something. The braids are beautiful.”

Rumil tosses his hair in my direction, letting me see the interlocking twists and tucks of a complicated ladder braid. “Mine the most, right?”

I roll my eyes, shooting my cheeky companion a grin. “If you say so.”

But all this talk of hair is reminding me just how hot my own is making me, and I am endlessly grateful for the means to put it up. I grip the horse tighter with my legs, preparing to release my arms from Baranor’s stabilizing middle. “Don’t let me fall,” I whisper, nerves gathering in my stomach as I chance a look at the ground passing under the horse’s thundering hooves.

“Of course,” he nods, and I swear the horse rides smoother.

Tentatively, I unwrap my arms from the thing that steadies me, putting more hope into my legs to keep me on the horse. I take a few deep breaths, straightening my back and keeping myself as still as possible while continuing to rock with the horse. Once I feel solid, I reach my hands up, gathering my hair. I don’t remember the last time I did this, but the muscle memory is there. I pull my hair into a high ponytail, beginning to twist the long strands around each other.

The horse jolts and I suck in a breath, feeling my body jerk to the right. Rumil shoots out an arm, steading me quickly. I give him a look of relieved thanks and continue, twisting my hair with one hand and wrapping the tie with the other. From the corner of my eye, I notice Orophin slow his horse a little, falling back to ride closer to us. He alternates between watching our surroundings and shooting curious glances at my hair. With a final twist, the bun is secured, and I take a moment to pull at the top and the sides so it’s not too tight.

Smiling broadly, I drop my arms, wrapping them around Baranor once again. “Ha! I did it!”

“Great job,” Rumil grins, voice thick with sarcasm. “Soon you will be able to shoot a bow while riding at a full gallop.”

Orophin snorts at his brother’s joke, speeding up once again to return to his place near Haldir.

“Oh, be quiet,” I snark, just happy to have a little relief from the heat.

A low bird call sounds from somewhere around us, and I tilt my head upwards, looking for the source. I’ve never heard a twitter like that before. “What kind—”

“Shh,” Rumil hisses, all traces of humor gone. I turn to him in confusion, then notice the way each of them sits straighter, more tense, a hand on the weapon nearest to him. I shrink against Baranor, heart beginning to race.

Something’s wrong.

I guess I wouldn’t know for sure, but I have the sneaking suspicion that I’ve never been in a fight. And, while I have no reason to doubt these men that I’ve somehow come to trust in such a short time, how can I really know if they are as great warriors as they say? For all I know, their perception of themselves could be horribly skewed, and we’re about to be attacked and overpowered.

I feel my hands shaking.

Baranor inclines his head in my direction, catching my attention. “It’s alright. It is just one man, as far as we can tell, but Haldir will want to ascertain that we are not walking into a trap. Stay silent and do not draw attention to yourself. We are going to approach him.”

As if on some unspoken order, Haldir and Orophin draw their swords. Rumil takes the bow from his back and smoothly nocks an arrow. I try to exhale quietly, fear making my breath catch in my throat. I tighten my grip around Baranor and press my forehead against the cool metal of his chest plate. Part of me feels incredibly wimpy hiding behind him, but the part of me in charge of survival instincts says I should be doing more…like, running in the opposite direction, perhaps.

Our horses slow and I try calm my racing heart.

We come to a stop.

“Identify yourself.” Haldir’s voice is always strong, always full of authority, but this is like I’ve never heard it before. It rings with both confidence and the sharp edge of a threat. If this was my first encounter with him, I would be shaking in my boots.

Silence.

I can practically feel the tension in the air.

The stress of not knowing what’s going on, not knowing what I’m facing, adds to my fear. I exhale, gathering my courage. I’m gonna have to look. Leaving myself no time to change my mind, I stretch my head to the side, peeking around Baranor’s shoulder.

And the memories come rushing back.

“Alex,” I breathe, my body feeling hot and cold all at once.

His head snaps from Haldir’s to mine, and the color drains from his face. “Cosima!”

I swing my leg over the horse’s back and jump to the ground. I’ve never gotten off the horse without help, and the force with which I hit the earth sends shocks of pain up my body. I ignore it, pushing myself to meet Alex as he runs towards me. We collide, gripping each other in a tight hug.

“What,” I gasp, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. I burst into tears. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here, what about you?” He pulls back slightly, gripping my arms and looking me over. “Why are you crying, what’s wrong? Have they hurt you?” He sends an accusatory glare at the men behind me.

I follow his gaze, noticing for the first time that Orophin has dismounted and stands near my shoulder, glowering at Alex.

I hurry to set the record straight. “No. No, they’ve been nothing but kind and helpful.” I sniffle, running a sleeve over my cheek. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

He smiles, placing a hand on my neck and pulling me back into a hug. “It’s okay. It’s just the stress.” At his words and the comforting motion of his hand running up and down my back, my tears begin to subside.

I hear the soft sound of boots connecting with dirt and turn just in time to see Haldir striding up to us, falling in line next to Orophin. Like his brother, he sets Alex with a hard, untrusting gaze. “You are traveling alone?”

Alex’s jaw tightens. “You kidnapped my friend?”

I twist out of Alex’s hold, turning so I can keep both him and my companions in view.

Haldir’s expression doesn’t change, he only raises his chin in defiance of Alex’s accusation. “We are elves, guardians of the great realm of Lothlórien, traveling upon invitation to Imladris. We found Cosima alone, like you, and offered her our aid. If, perhaps, you become more cooperative, we would be prepared to extend the same offer to you.”

Alex leans forward and Haldir raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to make a move. Orophin’s weight shifts to his back foot. I angle myself to face Alex, gripping his elbows. “It’s okay, honestly. If it weren’t for them I’d be dead by now. They can help you, too. Just answer their questions.”

Alex continues to glare, but I can see the resolve leave him. He looked peaked, and weak, and dark shadows sit under his hazel eyes. How long has he been here? Would I look like this, if the others hadn’t found me?

“Yes,” he acquiesces. “I’m traveling alone. I woke up on the riverbank three days ago and have been wandering around looking for civilization since. I don’t remember anything before that other than my name—Alexander. Now I remember Cosima too, and my nickname, I guess.”

Baranor slides off his horse, joining us with the bag I recognize as the one keeping his healing supplies. Haldir holds up a hand, stopping Baranor’s approach.

“Two humans that know each other wake up on the bank of the same river on the same day with no memory. One was strange enough, but two?” He looks between me and Alex, eyebrow raised. “Perhaps Elrond can offer insight.”

“Elrond,” Alex questions, his voice guarded once again.

I explain before Haldir and his attitude can. “He’s a friend of theirs in a city across the mountains. That’s where they’re traveling, so it’s where we’re going, too.”

Alex sets me with a look that quite obviously questions my sanity. “You agreed to follow them to another town through the mountains?”

I recoil at his tone, as well as the attack on my common sense. “Yes, I did. Because they’re nice and my only other option was waiting along the riverbank hoping another equally helpful party came along. Because if you haven’t noticed, Alex, there aren’t any cities here. It’s not like I can just walk up to someone’s house and call for help.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unkempt sandy hair. “But you could have waited. I was walking in that direction, I would have found you eventually.”

I throw my hands in the air, actually annoyed now. “There’s no way either of us could have known the other was here! I woke up the same as you did—with nothing. No context, no memories, no supplies. In light of that, I don’t think we’re in the position to be picky when help comes our way. We have to adapt, Alex, and quickly. It won’t end well for us if we don’t.”

His lip curls at my words. I try to soften my tone, knowing we are heading for an argument and that isn’t helpful to anyone right now. “You’re tired. You’ve been wandering for three days, I’m guessing without enough food or rest. Let us help you.”

Alex looks between me and the men behind me. With a start, I realize that I’ve just encountered a long-lost friend, someone quite important to me based on the onslaught of memories, and, to him, it must seem that I’m abandoning him in favor of taking the side of these newcomers. Guilt weighs uncomfortably in my stomach.

“Okay,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll go along with this—for now.”

Haldir nods, already walking towards his horse. “We ride until nightfall, then we will stop for food and rest. Be prepared to ride hard. We must make up for the time we lost with all this bickering.” Aside from the usual command in his tone, there’s a note of annoyance. He is so impatient.

I give Alex one last hug, feeling bad for my treatment of him. He’s my only link to my home, the only person here I can really, truly trust. I shouldn’t be at odds with him. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He doesn’t respond, only follows me to the horses.

Baranor bends to give me a leg up, but a voice halts us both. “Cosima, you ride with Rumil now. Baranor—keep Alexander on the back of your horse.”

Why? I glance at Haldir in confusion. He eyes me steadily, shaking his head once. I sigh, deciding to go along with it. I give Baranor a small wave of goodbye and join Rumil.

“On to bigger and better things, then?” He winks, kneeling and locking his fingers together.

“Oh, shut up,” I roll my eyes, chuckling as I step into his hands and swing my leg over the horse. He settles in front of me and takes the reins, and, before I know it, this company of five has become a company of six.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me oh so happy! Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing to the story on Ao3! That will update you automatically when I post there.

|next part|

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chemist-ana · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10- The Company Picnic— Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Robin, Mickey and Mason, Sofia, Mason Sr., Vivian,

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N This is a brand new series that I was inspired to write. I am going to go chapter by chapter in Sam Daltons POV. This story is completely inspired by Choices The Nanny Affair. I have used most of the dialogue from the actual story, anything written in BOLD was taken directly from the book and therefore is not my writing- credit to our good friends over at Pixelberry! All characters are credit to Pixelberry except for my OCs

Summary: When you let your guard down at the company picnic, will you be ambushed by friendly fire?

Word Count: 4740

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383

Robin stood there, his eyes flicking between Ana and I with a knowing look.

Fuck.

I run my hands through my hair, trying to gather my bearings.

“Robin, what are you doing here? And why is Sofia calling you?” Wait, why is Sofia calling him… I have my cell on me…

“She was looking for you. Do I even want to know what you two were up to?” His eyes narrow at me.

“We were just working!” Ana says breathlessly. Not exactly the perfect cover, Ana.

“You know you don’t actually work here, right Ana?” Robin crosses his arms and widens his stance, his frown deepening.

“Sam was showing me the prototypes. That count as work…” Her voice has grown quiet.

“We don’t need to explain ourselves to you, Robin. Did you finish the press release for the Milan breach?” My anger evident in my tone.

“I’ve been a little busy, but apparently I’m not the only one.”

Fucking drop it Rob.

“Enough. If you have something to say, say it. If not, then get back to work.” My eyes narrow at him in challenge. I watch as he turns on his heel to leave the lab, pausing briefly at the door and looking over his shoulder.

“I almost forgot. Sofia had a message for you, Ana. She said since you were doing this office tour today, you should come to the company picnic this weekend.”

“Really? I thought she wanted me fired.” Her eyes grow wide as she looks between Robin and I.

“It’s probably a ‘keep your enemies closer’ type of thing. She already told Mom and Dad about the invite, so they’re expecting you to be there.”

I clench my jaw, fighting back my ever increasing desire to punch that look off of his face. God I have been wanting to do that to him a lot recently... I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose when I hear the door close to the lab, leaving Ana and I alone again.

The silence is palpable as I look at her, she is looking down as her fingers twist together.

“Ana, are you okay?”

“Sam, we have to be more careful. We’re lucky Robin was the one who walked in on us. It could’ve been much worse.” Her voice quiet as she continues to watch her hands.

“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” I don’t know how lucky we are that it was Robin… “You don’t have to come to the picnic, you know.”

Her emerald eyes lift to mine as she studies my face for a moment.

“If you… think it’s best I don’t-“ She takes a step away from me, looking back down at her hands. I reach out and gently place my hand on her arm.

“That’s not what I meant. I want you there. Against my better instincts… I always want you wherever I am.” Close to me.

Those words get her attention as she slowly rises her eyes to mine. I hear her breath catch and it sends a reminder of the passion that we just shared only moments before.

“Okay then, I’ll be there.” She gives me a small smile.

I return her smile as our eyes linger for a moment before my mind wanders to a less important question... Why was Sofia on the phone with Robin? I reach into my pocket and check my phone, no missed calls or texts. Weird…

I spend the rest of the day thinking of Ana, spread out before me on the lab table, the sound of pleasure that escaped her lips, and the sweet taste of her arousal on mine.

***

I wake up early the next morning, as I walk quietly into the kitchen, I pause outside of the door to Ana’s room. God how I want to just bring you into my bed and get lost in you… I shake my head, fuck these thoughts need to disappear… I need to escape while everyone is still asleep. I write a quick note and leave it on the counter- Went into the office early- will be home early to take the boys out for a treat. -Sam. Good enough.

I run my hands through my hair as I ride the elevator down to the lobby, Carter is waiting at the curb, always ready.

When I enter into my office the sun is just breaking above the skyline. The building is eerily quiet as I sit down in my chair, turning my attention to the waking of the city as the sunlight casts its morning shadows.

Suddenly I hear the door to my office open.

“How did I know you would be here already?” I close my eyes. Robin.

I hear him sit down in the leather chair on the other side of my desk and I turn my chair to face him, a smug look on his face.

“Sammy, what in the actual fuck is going on with you and Ana?”

I take a sharp inhale, “First of all, there is nothing going on between us. Second of all, even if there was, it would be none of your fucking business.”

“You are really going to lie to me? What I walked in on yesterday didn’t look like ‘nothing’.”

“Yeah, well, you know what happens when people make assumptions.”

“Sam, I thought by now you would understand that there are consequences to your actions.”

“Robin, save the kingly speech for someone who gives a damn. There is nothing going on between us.”

“You’re going to hurt her, and when all the chips fall, she is going to have nothing, and you are still going to have everything.”

I stare at him for a moment, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Why were you on the phone with Sofia?”

“I told you Sam, she was trying to find you.” He points a finger at me, before he shakes his head and stands up. “You better figure your shit out.”

Without another word he turns around and strides out of my office.

It’s going to be a long day.

***

I bring a glass of water to my lips for a sip as I type out a few quick texts, and alert Carter to be ready with the car in five minutes. Now where are the boys?

I make my way down the hall, and knock softly on Ana’s partially open door.

“Ana, have you seen the boys-“

“Dad, look! Ana’s wearing the outfit we picked out!” Mason pushes the glasses up his nose with a smile.

“Oh, wow. You look… nice.” My eyes flash as they run down the exposed skin of her delicate neck and her long legs. I swallow down a surge of desire.

“Just nice?” She asks with a coy smile.

I glance over at the twins who are now lost in a conversation between themselves before I lean in and the smell of jasmine fills my senses.

“Definitely not ‘just nice’, but I’m trying to be good.” My eyes flick to the twins.

“I think I like you better when you let yourself be bad.” Her emerald eyes darken and a memory flashes in my mind of the soft whimpers that escape her lips when I touch her.

I clear my throat, breaking myself of my trance as I stand up and look to the twins.

“Right. Is everyone ready to go in here?”

“I am!” Mason cheers running out of the door.

“Wait, I forgot my socks!” Mickey calls as he follows close behind.

My eyes linger on Ana before I reluctantly turn away.

***

Ana and I walk side by side down the large path in Central Park, the boys follow close behind.

“What’s the problem, you two? You don’t like picnics?” We stop and turn towards the boys who are kicking at the rocks on the pavement.

“Normal picnics, yeah. But who knows what Aunt Sofia has done to this one?” Mickey whines as he drags his feet.

“Boys, I promise you, Aunt Sofia didn’t have any part in planning this picnic.” I fight back the urge to laugh.

“But, we still have to follow her rules, don’t we?” Mason looks at Ana with a pleading look.

“You can still have fun too.” She gives him an encouraging smile. “Besides, there’ll be so much going on, I bet she won’t even notice if you sneak an ice cream cone. Assuming your dad says it’s okay, of course.”

“Really?” Mickey breaks out into a big grin.

“Sure. But just the one treat. We don’t want you to get a sugar overload.”

That seems to get them moving, because they run ahead. Ana and I share a look before we continue walking.

“It’s beautiful… I can see our building from here!” Mason shouts as we round the corner and the field comes into view.

My eyes meet Sofia’s as she starts walking towards us.

“Sam, you’ve got to see this. It’s accounting versus legal on the badminton court!” Her eyes are bright, you are unusually cheery today. Than her gaze falls on Ana, and I see a flash of something in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can tell what it is.

“Well, don’t you look adorable. You always know how to turn it on when it matters most, don’t you?” I resist the urge to close my eyes and sigh. Adorable, really Sofia?

“I try.” Ana gives her a confident smile.

“Can you also try to keep the boys from getting too dirty or being too loud or eating any sugar or running near the adults? Sam and I will be right back.” Sofia grabs my arm and leads me towards the badminton courts. I glance back at Ana who is herding the boys in the opposite direction.

“I am glad she decided to come today.” Sofia squeezes my arm. “Robin mentioned she had some hesitation.” My stomach sinks as I think about Robin… did he say anything to her?

“Yeah, so legal vs accounting huh?” I say effectively changing the topic.

***

After laughing a little too hard watching the accounting team get slaughtered by legal, I hear my dad’s voice calling over a megaphone.

“Welcome to the Annual Dalton Enterprises Company Picnic! I hope you’re ready for some good old-fashioned fun! We’ve got everything from giant Jenga to croquet to kickball.. But the highlight of the afternoon will be starting in five minutes… tug-of-war!” I hear a few good natured cheers and my eyes scan the field for Ana.

I see her talking to Robin, her brow furrowed.

“It’s Complex A versus Complex B! If you’re not an employee, pick a side.” My dad drops the megaphone and my eyes are still locked on Ana and Robin as I make my way across the field.

I don’t realize Sofia is behind me until I walk up on Ana and Robin and she is the first one to speak.

“Are you sitting out too, Ana? This game is so filthy and juvenile, I always sunbathe through it.” Sofia looks down at her manicured fingers and walks to the sidelines.

“Ana! You have to be on our team!” Mason shouts as him and Mason jog up to us.

“Yeah! Together we’ll be unstoppable!” Mickey chimes in as he gives Ana a smile. Ana’s eyes look between the boys then rise up to mine.

“We could use the extra hands…” I tell her.

“If Ana doesn’t want to play, she doesn’t have to play.” Robin’s eyes narrow at me.

I bite the urge to call Robin a petulant child.

“I can’t resist a good competition. I’m in!” She flashes a cocky smile at Robin.

“Yeah! Suck it, Uncle Robin!” Mickey jumps in the air and sticks his tongue out at Robin.

“Mickey…”

“I mean… you’re going down?” His eyes widen.

“We’ll see, kiddo.” Robins eyes soften as he looks down at Mickey, but harden immediately when he looks back at me. “At least we don’t have any distractions on our team.”

“Bring it on.” Ana turns on her heel and we walk towards our side of the rope.

We huddle together with the rest of the people on our team.

“First thing’s first, we need a team name!” Mason takes charge. That’s my boy.

“What about winners?” Ana says.

“Yeah, go winners!” Mason and the rest of the team cheers.

“Enough conferring! It’s time to play!” My dad’s voice booms over the megaphone.

We all line up as my mother explains the rules.

“Boys up front. Ana, you can stand by me.” I give Ana a smile as she stands directly in front of me.

I see Robin glaring daggers at Ana from the opposite side of the rope. My eyes dart back to Ana as I catch her sticking her tongue out at him. What were those two talking about earlier?

“Is that your method of long-distance trash talk?”

“It’s working, isn’t it? Robin’s head isn’t in the game, which means we’ve got this in the bag.” She gives me a confident smile.

“Let’s put that theory to theory to the test.” I give her a smile before she turns around, wrapping her hands around the rope.

My dad starts the pulling match and I lean back, digging in with my heels as the rope goes taught.

“You’’ll have to do better than that!” Ana shouts. You’re a competitive little thing aren’t you.

The boys are urging everyone to pull. I wrap my fingers tighter around the rope and heave and it seems to work, because the other side starts to give.

“That’s it, winners! We’ve got ‘em on the ropes!” I shout.

My eyes are locked on the muscles that are tense on Ana’s back.

“Almost… there!” Her voice rings out.

“We can’t… let them win… look at them!” Robin’s face is angry as he pulls. “Though I guess Ana does have some experience playing dirty.”

My eyes fly to Robin, but his gaze is focused on Ana. She ignores him and continues to pull, until we pull the marker onto our side. The momentum of her pulling causes her to stagger back… and right into my arms.

The smell of jasmine and Ana rush my senses as I squeeze my arms tightly around her, to steady her or hold her close I don’t know anymore. She looks over her shoulder and her emerald eyes meet mine, and for a moment the world fades away.

“…Hi.” A blush creeps up her neck as our eyes linger.

“Hi.” I smile.

Her eyes dart down to my lips as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes growing dark. I slide my tongue across my lip and I feel her body tense.

“Sam…” She whispers and the sound sends a shockwave through my body.

“Ana, I-“ Fuck, you are in public, and Sofia is here.

“And the winner is- Team Winners!” My dad’s voice booming over the megaphone breaks me from my trance.

“We did it!” Mason and Mickey jump around excitedly. I drop my arms from Ana just in time for Mason and Mickey to tackle me in a hug. My eyes never leave Ana as they wrap their arms around me.

“You did it, boys!” I finally break my gaze to ruffle the twins hair as they cheer.

“We did it, Dad!” Mason looks up at me with a grin.

“Yeah, we couldn’t have beat Uncle Robin without you and Ana!” Mickey looks over to Ana.

“And we couldn’t have done it without you two.” She reaches out and ruffles Mickey’s hair.

God, this just feels so right.

“That’s one way to put it.” Robin. Moment fucking broken.

My eyes fly up to Robin’s who has his eyes narrowed at Ana. I am about to snap when my mother walks up besides us.

“Nobody like a sore loser, Robin. Be a good example for your nephews.”

“Samuel, my big, strong man! I’ve got a wet wipe and a fresh shirt with your name on it.” Sofia walks up and wraps an arm through mine, and pulls me away from the group. I look down at her as she leads towards a tent, her eyes focused.

***

I stand silently next to my father as we watch everyone start to leave.

“I would call that a success.” He glances over at me.

“I would say so. You and mom should go, let me handle the clean up.” I clap him on the back as my mother walks up to us.

“Are you ready to go Mason, dear?”

“Yes, Viv.” He extends his arm for her to take before turning to me one last time. “Well done today, Sam.”

“Bye, Samuel.” My mother brushes a kiss to my cheek before I watch her and my father walk towards the edge of the park.

With a sigh I grab a few trash bags and begin walking around, picking up loose plates. My eyes fall on Ana and the boys and I make my way over to them.

“I’ll take those.” I hold open the trash bag for Ana and the boys to drop their used plates and napkins in. Ana and I fall into step next to each other as we follow the boys to the edge of the park.

“So, did you have a good time today?” I glance down at her and the sun has left a beautiful glow on her olive skin.

“Well, I missed you.” She says softly, turning her beautiful face towards mine. “I feel like I barely got to see you all day after tug-of-war. But this moment right here, with you? It’s been the best part of my day.”

“The party planning committee will be disappointed to hear it… but it’s my favorite too.” I chuckle, my eyes lingering on hers as I watch the sun reflect off of the little specs of gold amongst the emerald green.

As we round the corner I see Carter waiting at the curb, Robin and Sofia already there besides the car. Why are they always together…?

“Looks like the ride home will be a little crowded tonight.” Ana murmurs.

“Good thing I can get out of it for once, I always stay behind and help the cleaning crew after the picnic. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for everything.” I look down at her as our arms brush.

“No ones too good to clean up their own mess, right Dad?” Mason asks as he kicks a rock on the pavement.

“That’s exactly right, little man.” Damn proud.

“But we don’t have to stay… right?” Mickey’s eyes grow wide.

“Not until you’re a little older.” I smile at the look of relief on his face.

The boys climb into the car and I catch Sofia’s eye.

“Yes, honey, very inspiring. See you at home.” She leans in and brushes a kiss against my cheek then follows the boys into the car.

“Ana, are you coming?” Robin asks as his eyes scan Ana’s body.

Ana looks up at me with a question in her eyes.

“You’re welcome to stay and help, if you want. It won’t take long between us and the crew. We usually divide and conquer to cover more ground.” Please stay…

“Sounds like a great way to help out this afternoon.” She meets my eyes with a warm smile, her eyes not hiding her true intentions.

“Sure. Just… remember what I said.” Robin regards Ana with a firm look, before shifting his focus to me, and finally climbing into the backseat of the car.

Ana and I turn around and head back to the picnic area, our arms brushing lightly as we walk in a companionable silence.

“Have you ever been to a big picnic like this before?” The breeze blows through her hair as she looks up at me.

“I have never been to one before. Neither of my parents ever had a company picnic, so this was a first.”

“And? What’s the verdict?”

“I’ll let you know when I have one.” She gives me a coy smile before turning her attention back to the park.

I hand her a trash bag and she begins picking up stacks of paper plates.

“I bet you’ve been to a million of these over the years.”

“You could say that. I was still a kid when we held the first one, but it looked nothing like this. We could practically all fit on one blanket back then.” I smile at the fond memories… we have come a long way since then.

“It’s hard to imagine the company being that small.”

“Yeah, we’ve definitely grown a lot since then. But as much as I sometimes miss how… simple things were back then, we also couldn’t make as big of a difference. We can help so many more people now that we’re bigger.”

“I bet that feels good.”

“It does. And it definitely makes the hard days a little easier.”

“Speaking of, I can’t believe you’re not soaking in a bubble bath right now. You were at the center of all of the activity today.” She glances at me. I want to be in a bubble bath with you.

We bend down to pick up a red solo cup at the same time, our fingers brushing, and a blush spreading across her cheeks as her eyes snap away from mine.

“Sorry.” She says quickly.

“No worries.” I smile at her, but I can sense a change in her mood. “I am pretty tired, but it’s a Dalton family tradition to stay behind with the workers and, well, work. My father always stayed behind, but now that he’s older, the mantle falls on me.”

“You know, Robin mentioned one time that he’s also being considered for CEO… but I can’t really picture him staying behind, even if it’s part of the job description.” What else has Robin told you about my family? Yeah, well, if there is anything I know about Robin is that he does the bare minimum.

“Yeah, well, he probably wouldn’t have to, even if he were CEO. My dad has always held Robin to different standards than me. But at this point, that would only happen if I really, really, messed up.”

She glances around and when I follow her eyes, I realize we are all alone on this side of the park.

“Taking responsibility has never been Robin’s strong suit. Great at making messes though.” I flash her a smile but she seems to be avoiding my gaze. “You’re being awfully quiet over there.”

“Hmm? Oh, I just… have a lot on my mind.” She replies without looking at me. There is definitely something wrong… and fuck I hope it doesn’t have to do with Robin. “Actually, Sam… there’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” Her lips turn down in a frown. Definitely Robin.

“What did Robin do now?”

“Earlier today, he pulled me aside and demanded that I leave you alone…” I stare into her eyes, trying to read the expression on her face.

“What did you say?” Please tell me you didn’t tell him anything…

“I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about… but I don’t think he believed me.”

I let out a deep breath and reach up to rub the knots in my neck. Fuck…

“I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this position, Ana. You shouldn’t have to deal with my brother confronting you like this.” What are you doing to her?

I reach out and cup her cheek and I can see the pain in her eyes.

“Robin seemed pretty sure that at the en dog all of this… I would be the one who ends up hurt.” Fuck Robin, stay out of my business.

“As much as I hate to say it- and as much as I will do everything in my power to prevent it- he’s probably right.” I cringe as the words come out of my mouth. “But Ana, my parents’ expectations, the company politics, Sofia… it all just fades away when I look at you.”

“Sam…” My name rolls off her lips in a whisper.

In that instant, the sprinklers turn on, sending a jetting stream of water onto both of us.

She cries out and leans into me as I wrap my arms around her, trying my best to shield her from the water.

“Okay, seriously, who sets their sprinklers to go off in the middle of the afternoon.” I laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, even though I can’t complain having Ana in my arms.

“Someone who got AM and PM mixed up?” She laughs and the sound brings an even bigger smile to my face.

I lean away from her slightly, my eyes roaming her face as I smooth the hair from her face. She is so beautiful…

“You look beautiful like this… I’ve never seen you wet before.”

“You don’t know that.”

Her words send a shockwave to my cock. I definitely didn’t mean it like that, but fuck am I glad you did.

“That’s not fair. Now that’s all I can think about…” You, wet, in my arms, in our home, in the car… fuck…

“Sam, now you know how I feel.”

“Does this mean you think about me all the time? At night, in bed, alone…?” My voice has dropped to a husky whisper as images of her on her back, naked, and moaning fill my head.

“Yes… touching myself, thinking of you, wondering if you’re turned on because of me.” The huskiness of her voice matches mine as her eyes wander my face and linger on my lips.

Holy fuck, you naughty little thing.

“Always…” I tighten my grip on her waste as her breath catches in her throat.

“Sam… kiss me.”

I was hoping you would say that.

I lean down and capture her perfect pink lips in mine, my hands roam her every curve, trying my hardest to memorize the twists and turns. Our kiss grows in passion as she lets out a moan into my mouth.

I grab her hips, pulling her against my growing desire.

“Ana… what are you doing to me?” I whisper against her mouth… I have never been so out of control in my life as I am when I am around you…

I drop my lips to her jaw, trailing light kisses up to her ear, the smell of Ana, sunshine and jasmine, fills my senses as I taste her sweet skin.

“I can’t seem to control myself around you…” I whisper into her ear.

“Maybe I want you to lose control…” She whispers, her lips lightly grazing mine.

She tangles her fingers into my hair and drags my lips back to hers. I want to lose control with you… My fingers continue their exploration as I graze my fingers over her erect nipples through her shirt, god this wet shirt is doing wonders for you…

“I want nothing more than to lay you down and take you right here, but…” I whisper in her ear as I blaze a trail of kisses down her neck, her body responding to my every touch with soft whimpers and gasps.

“We are still in public… and broad daylight.” Her breathing is erratic as I press my forehead to hers. I close my eyes, and listen to her erratic breathing and feel the rise and fall of her chest.

“Dammit.” I whisper. I lean in and press a soft, slow kiss to her lips before I pull away. My body instantly missing the contact. I grab one of her hands in mine and give it a light squeeze. “You’re going to be the death of me, Ana. Or at least, the death of my reputation.” I take a moment to check my surroundings, fortunately we are still alone.

“…You’re welcome?” Her soft laugh ringing through my ears.

“We should probably get back to cleaning, or we’ll never finish.”

“Oh, I’m desperate to finish, alright.” Her coy smile spreading across her lips.

I smile at her with a shake of my head, her lips red from our kisses and her skin flushed… so damn beautiful…

We make our way out of the line of fire of the sprinklers and continue working, well into the evening. My fingers moving in time with the rise and fall of her curves, remembering the sparks of electricity and the sound of her moans.

#choices the stories you play #the nanny affair #choices sam dalton #samdalton #mickey and mason

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solivagusdraco · 3 years

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From the Depths of a Lab: Boundaries Between Nonhumanity and Creativity through the Journey of a Potential Silvally 'kin

I'm a dragon.

That's a fact I've known for over a decade at this point. It was pure chance that I ever even learned of otherkin - somewhere along the line, one of my best friends mentioned being a therian, and so I asked what that was. If I ever had any doubts about my draconity just being something developed because I heard this new fascinating thing… the fact that I still feel my wings and get sense memories when I search for them, even after this long, would eliminate those… we'll call them worries. Perhaps a poor choice of words, but it's what fits in my experience - I'm firmly in the spiritual otherkin camp.

And perhaps that, and my continued journey to understand psychological 'kin, is part of the "problem" that spurred this essay.

Again, perhaps a poor choice in words.

This isn't some discussion about facets of the community, or debate on origins. My experiences aren't another's, just as theirs aren't mine. This is an essay on personal exploration, and the adventure of trying to confirm or deny a kintype whilst sifting through muddy water, years after I've last done any serious introspection on such topics. But if you're still interested in the personal ramblings of this dragon, then I welcome you and will pull up a nice rock for you to sit on. All I ask is patience, for words are hard for me. Talking about myself is even harder.

I awakened as a Dragon in 2010. I found a hearttype in Painted Dogs in 2014. Both of which were… simple.

I found my dragon in meditation and introspection, finding memories of both sense and the more traditional kind. The senses persisted, and still persist. Perhaps one day I'll wake and realize I'm not a dragon, but that doesn't change what I am now, nor how I feel. I am a dragon, and I found that through soul searching.

I found a home in painted dogs during a chance trip to the zoo. They had just recently finished a new exhibit for those fancy canines, and for some reason I just felt so excited to go see these creatures I'd never heard of before that moment. And then I saw them and while I didn't feel like looking in the mirror… It felt like looking through a photo album. I'm not them, yet still they're so familiar.

But this isn't an essay about dragons or canines. Or perhaps it's an essay about them both, just in a different, chimeric form.

Pokémon has always been a part of my life. As of writing this, I'm 27 and the franchise is 25 - the only part of my life without Pokémon are years I don't even remember. I learned the TCG, my first video games ever were Gold and Silver, I had plush and played pretend with my friends. I had favorites… but I never made a character. Not a trainer, not a Pokémon. Rather, it was literal decades before I made a proper Pokémon OC.

Sev the Silvally was made out of a desire to try and run a Pokémon ask blog as a means to improve my art skills through regular practice. I don't even remember the thought process that made me choose a Silvally over any of the other hundreds of Pokémon - I just knew that I'd started drawing and suddenly I had a crime against Arceus with a broken RKS Drive. Granted, Type: Null and Silvally had been my favorite Pokémon of that generation, and my inspiration for the blog was a Type: Null blog.

Later on, Sev would become something of a comfort and coping character for me.

I had been abused by someone I considered one of my best friends in high school, and while I had since recognized it as abuse by the time of Sev's creation… It still bothered me. So I decided to have Sev's escape from the Aether Paradise be that he was stolen by an abusive trainer, and his evolution happened when that trainer turned her abusive hand to a Rockruff pup - an evolution not through love for his trainer, but rather through a desire to protect. Sev escaped his abuse and got the chance to learn how to live without the shadow of his trainer looming over him, just like I hoped to do. Escape that shadow. Let Sev be my guide through the nightmares and hate scrolling that still persisted.

He stopped being just a character.

But what does this all have to do with otherkin?

As I mentioned, Pokémon has been a part of my life for effectively my whole life. Yet despite that… There's never been a Pokémon that gripped me with the intensity that Silvally has. I've hungrily looked for merch, official and unofficial. I'm in the midst of making a fursuit, complete with electronics. One of my Tumblr usernames is multi-attack, and oftentimes now when making an account on a website, the first thing I check is if 'Silvally' is taken as a username. The design I painted on my mailbox is of my dragon and Sev, in a sort of "coat of arms" reminiscent style. This chimeric Pokémon latched on to some part of my mind and refused to let go.

And yet it wasn't until this past year that I even considered that Silvally could be something other than a "mere" favorite character.

Perhaps it's a hearttype. Perhaps it's a kintype. Perhaps it is just a mere favorite character. Introspection is the answer, regardless. My way to find just what Silvally is to me. But then there comes another question. Another problem.

With my dragon, the hunt for memories was clear cut. I had no existing thoughts to sway the hunt, and what memories I eventually found… They had little comparisons to various dragon media I'd consumed. But I start this investigation with Silvally at a disadvantage - I've made a character with crafted backstory, and consumed what little canon information exists on the species. There's no blank slate for me to start from - whatever search I do will always be colored by Sev and his tale.

So then I have to ask myself:

Is Sev his own character, or is he me?

I've never had a character that I was able to just write. Perhaps it's akin to soulbonding, but what I've read on that experience just doesn't quite taste right for the circumstance. I'll create a path for my characters, a baseline for their personality to grow on… but all too frequently, they end up bucking those guidelines and becoming their own person, as it were. They don't keep me company in my mind, but they still make their own minds clear should I try to direct their story or actions in ways they don't agree with.

Where does one find the boundary between self and other, when those "others" make their own decisions yet aren't their own entities?

To say nothing of my tendency to dole out my flaws and traits to each of my characters. Each little facet of myself being the seed from which a character will grow. Sometimes as the simple fact that the familiar makes creation easier. Sometimes as a means to work through a problem. But regardless of reason, it doesn't change the fact that almost every character I've ever made has had some piece of me in their core.

But… When every character you make is a facet of yourself, the moment you consider that they might be more than just a character gets muddy. Is it a hearttype, born from a facet of yourself that your subconscious decided you needed to care for more? Or is that facet just a part of you that recognized what you were, long before your consciousness connected the dots? And if kintype it is, then how do you determine what memories are real? Were the plot points and character biology you designed mere fabrication of the mind? Or were they flashes of another life, fleshed out, recorded, and/or adapted in the name of writing?

As if the discovery and determination of memories wasn't already complicated enough.

Sev's name was the only decision I consciously made whilst creating him - shortened from 'severance', as his creation was for the partial purpose of finally separating myself from old memories. Everything else just… happened. There was no rhyme or reason or choice to anything. Not his color, not the reason he and the other Silvally of his world were created. Every plot point, every musing on his biology was a simple moment of "Oh, so that's how it happened".

In what way is that different from how I found my dragon, with her quiet nights of meditation and introspection until the memories and feelings fell into place?

Now don't misunderstand - this isn't me saying that discovering a kintype is nothing more than making a character. That couldn't be farther from what I'm saying! Rather, I'm musing on the question of where the boundary is between the creative process and the discovery process. If Sev (or just Silvally in general) isn't a kintype, then it's still fascinating to me that his creation was so similar to me discovering my dragon. And if he is a kintype? Then is that particular creative process something to be mindful of when contemplating "original character" kintypes?

Perhaps this question would be easier to find an "answer" to if I knew what Silvally was to me… but I don't! That's almost the point of this essay - a vague attempt to knock some solid feeling thought loose from my mind.

It just happened to lead to a fascinating line of thought.

#otherkin #otherkind #alterhuman #heraldic speaks

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frostsinth · 4 years

Photo

I scuttled quickly down the hallway between the private rooms of the bathhouse. Boots thundered behind me, and my heart raced in my chest. I had perhaps only minutes before my pursuers rounded the corner and spotted me. If that happened, there would be almost no chance of escape. I jerked to a sudden halt as the sounds suddenly came from ahead, further down the hall. Damn it! They must have gone around the back as well to cut me off.

I darted to the nearest door, trying the handle. But it was locked. I didn’t linger, moving to the next. The voices were growing louder; I didn’t even hesitate as the bolt slid back on my first try and the door popped open, slipping quickly inside and closing it behind me. I pressed my ear to the wood, listening intently.

“You lost, hotblood?” Came a thick voice over my shoulder, and I jumped, spinning sharply, “This is a private room.”

The flickering red coals warming the stones in its center bathed the room’s occupant in their soft light, his form partially obscured by the steam that filled the air. But even so, what I could see had my eyes widening slightly as I took him in.

He sat in one of the deep wooden bench seats lining the center of the sauna floor, one leg extended and the other propped against the cool base of the black iron brazier in its center. The man had no clothes to speak of, which was not unexpected in a private sauna room, but instead of bare skin he boasted dark, rough looking green scales. His eyes were a glittering yellow in the low light, and four dark grey horns curled out from the back of his head. As I stared, he leaned back, stretching one large, scaled green arm up to rest languidly on the wide back of the bench behind him. A thick tail draped lazily over the seat next to him, dangling off the edge, and his long, dark red tongue flicked out at me.

“A-apologies for the intrusion, sir!” I stammered quickly, straightening my back and offering him a smile, “I was just making sure you had enough towels.”

His scaly brow arched, and his elongated mouth opened slightly to let his tongue snake back out. Inadvertently baring sharp teeth as well. My breath caught in my throat at the sight, and I swallowed hard. He ran his opposite big hand over the smooth top of his head, flexing his large bicep in the process. Drawing my eye over his muscular torso. Forcing my smile to remain fixed in place despite the sight of the reptilian man before me, I bustled over to the small pile of white linens set by the changing screen in the corner. I tsked as I looked at them.

“Oh no, these will not do!” I exclaimed dramatically, making a point not to look at him as I gathered them up, “Let me bring you a fresh set.” I hugged them to my chest. “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

I heard the footsteps in the hall behind me, and had to work hard not to flinch as I slowly straightened. Just a few moments more, then perhaps I could sneak out past them.

“You don’t work here.” The reptilian man intoned simply.

I jumped before I could catch myself, then gave him an apologetic smile. His voice didn’t sound accusing, or upset. In fact, it sounded almost curious.

“Oh, I usually work in the back-”

“I’m sure you do.” He interrupted, sounding a little amused now. Then he waved one clawed hand at me. “But I’m not looking for company so I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

A sudden resounding knock had me jumping again and my eyes shot wide. I spun, quick as a wink, and darted behind the changing screen. Ducking low as if that would make any difference. The heat of the room and steam already had plastered my tunic to me with sweat, but the beads that dripped down the back of my neck had nothing to do with the temperature.

I had reacted just in time, and the door slowly opened in the room beyond. “Good evening… sir,” Came the voice, suddenly tight as the speaker was greeted by the same strange sight that had assaulted me moments before. “...Apologies, but we are looking for someone.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, sensing my impending doom like the rope was already tied around my neck. Just knowing this was my last few moments of freedom. I waited with bated breath for the boots to cross the wooden floor. For my hiding spot to be smashed aside and grabbing hands to snatch at me.

“...Well, as you can see, I am alone.” Growled the reptilian man after the longest minute of my life, and I drew in a sharp breath of surprise, both at his words and the feral tone with which he spoke them. “And this is a private room. So if you don’t mind.”

There was a pause, and I thought I heard feet shuffling. As if deciding whether or not to take the green scaled man at his word. Then I heard a soft huff, and a final mumbled apology. The door slowly creaked, then clicked shut.

A few more painfully quiet moments slipped by, and I didn’t dare breath for a single one.

“You can come out now.” Came the same thick voice, and I started at it. “They’re gone.”

Slowly, hesitantly, I came out from behind the screen, still clutching the towels to my chest. Sharp yellow eyes waited for me, studying me from head to toe as I stood before him. I looked down at the ground, unable to meet the fierce gaze. I heard him give a deep sigh, and when I chanced a glance at him, his eyes were closed, his head leaned back.

“... Thank you…” I mumbled sheepishly, unsure what else to say as I rubbed my toe against the worn floor.

He snorted, a deep, billowing sound, shaking his head and reclining back. Stretching out further. “Do you know how I knew you didn’t work here?” He asked.

“... No sir.”

“Because you acted as though I was just another guest. Not a racist bigot like the rest of the staff.” His heavy tail twitched, and one yellow eye slitted open to consider me again. “Keep that in mind the next time you’re looking to hide in a customer’s room.”

I opened my mouth in surprise, then closed it. “I’ll… keep that in mind.” I breathed, then glanced back at the door. The sound of boots marching up and down the hall was still quite apparent, and I swallowed nervously. “Not that I wish to impose upon your goodwill further… But perhaps you might allow me to facilitate your room just a bit longer?”

He snorted again. “Very well. But as payment, come and share your warmth with me, hotblood. Those bastards always sit me in the draftiest room they have, and I’m getting chills.”

I stammered something incoherent, trying to manage some excuse. But then he set one of his fierce yellow eyes upon me, and my last excuse died on my lips. What choice did I have, after all? If I raised his ire, a simple shout would alert my hunters to my presence. I was at his mercy, at least for the time being.

Numbly, I placed the towels back in their place and slowly paced over to him. He reached out as I drew closer, and I resisted the urge to jerk away from his hand. But he didn’t grab me as I thought he intended, instead plucking a cup of water from the waiting bucket and pouring it over the hot stones. Rejuvenating the steam of the room with a loud hiss. I watched with surprise, then glanced back at him. He reclined back, a deep sigh expanding his broad chest and the large plate scales that ran down his middle.

Hesitantly, I eased myself onto the bench next to him. His arm did come out then, scooping me closer to him gently. I stiffened as he pulled me halfway onto his lap, curling one arm around me. It was long enough to wrap the full length from one shoulder to the other, and I found myself with my face next to his thick neck. The hairs on the back of my own prickled, and sweat rolled town my temples. With my torso pressed to his scaled chest, I realized just how big he really was. Perhaps only a head taller than me, but wide set, with thick, knotted muscles beneath his tough looking green scales. His tail slid closer from the seat beside me, pinning against my thigh and encircling me with its girth, and he sighed deeply again, relaxing.

“That’s better.” He purred, and I felt his thick voice in his chest beneath my hand.

I was surprised to find him cool to the touch, as if the hot room had no affect on him in the least. I snuck a peek up at his face to see if he was watching me, but his eyes were closed. I used the opportunity to study him closer.

His scales were a mottled emerald, like moss on a forest floor, but became a lighter shade of pale green along his stomach, abdomen, and up the center of his neck beneath his chin. There was more of the same color between the barbs that extended from the crown of his head, following the curve of his skull in larger scales that seemed to trace down the back of his thick neck. Behind them, four dark grey curling horns created a crest to frame his square face. His jaw protruded out like a muzzle, long and pointed, with a small snout boasting tiny nostrils at either side of the tip. Several smaller spikes jutted out from the edge of the corner of his jaw, and every now and then a dark red tongue darted from his wide mouth to lick at the air.

I tensed as his big hand that was wrapped about my shoulders moved, sliding over my arm, tracing down to the bare skin beneath my sleeve. His fat tail lifted, then fell to drape heavily across my lap. I noticed the small, pale bone spikes there, the same color as the scales on his stomach, that followed in two lines on either side of the flat top of his tail.

“If you’re looking to make some coin,” He mused, his thick voice soft, and I felt it vibrate in his chest against me, “I believe I might have a job you would be interested in.”

I swallowed hard. “... I don’t think I would be.”

His long snout brushed near my cheek as he looked down to consider me. Then he laughed; a smoky, heavy sound that had my heart skipping a beat. “An interesting proposition, hotblood,” He replied, hard brow twitching, “But not exactly what I had in mind.” He cocked his head to the side. “However, if you change your stance on that, let me know. I would be foolish not to consider it,” His long tongue darted out, and I felt its forked tip brush lightly against my temple, “I have heard humans make delightful partners.”

My skin flushed even hotter at his words, and I quickly turned away. With nowhere else to go, and not wanting to meet his gaze, I rested my ear in the crook of his burly neck.

“...Then what did you have in mind?”

“I find myself in need of an assistant,” He continued, still sounding lightly amused, “An ambassador, if you will. To aid in the procurement of goods and services, to help set camp and tend my mount when we travel.” I started to pull back to look at him, but his arm tightened. “Stay there for now, you feel quite nice.”

My heart leaped, and I clenched my muscles to keep from shaking. “Why offer this to me?” I asked suspiciously. Beginning to believe that it would be much harder to leave this room than I had initially thought. Especially with his strong arm wrapped so insistently around me.

He gave a thoughtful ‘hmm’ at that before continuing. “Honestly, it just occurred to me. But I make enough coin now to afford to take on a dependent, and I am tired of receiving the short end of the stick in regards to supplies and treatment. Perhaps, if I had a human to do the bargaining for me, I might not end up in a drafty sauna.” I rolled my eyes up to look at him, and saw him bare his sharp teeth in what I hoped was just a grin. “And you seem to have fallen into my lap quite opportunely.”

I blushed again, and twisted in his grip. He loosened his hold, albeit regretfully, and I propped myself up to look at him more fully. The chance of a job? A real job? It sounded too good to be true. And the manner with which the opportunity presented itself was certainly suspect. There had to be some catch, or else he was lying to me. I tried to consider his face, but found the features too foreign to determine his truthfulness.

“You just met me. You know nothing about me!”

He shrugged, skimming his hand between my shoulder blades absent mindedly. “You didn’t run when you saw me, nor scream.” Again, that haunting grin. “Best recommendation you could receive in my book.” The teeth slipped back behind his scaled lips, and he tilted his horn head to the side. “Can you cook?”

I blinked at him stupidly. “Well enough, I suppose. But-”

“What’s a reasonable amount?” He pressed, “You’ll have to travel with me, but I’ll provide you the same food and shelter I procure for myself at my expense. I assume you have no attachments. And it’s probably too much to hope for that you have a horse, considering the circumstances of our meeting. Do you have any healing skills?”

“I-I know the basics. But-”

“One gold a day, fair?” He interrupted again before I could even start to protest. “And some spending money whenever we go into town.”

He finally fell silent, and I stared at him. Dumbfounded. My mouth opened and closed uselessly a few times, and he waited patiently. I tried to wrap my head around my swirling thoughts, but found it obscured by more fog than the steam that filled the sauna.

“I… I don’t even know your name!” I protested finally, and was surprised to find I was actually considering his offer seriously.

His toothy grin returned. “My name is Devaraj. Shall we be on our way?”

UPDATE: Continued HERE

A special gift for @ivymemnoch who was kind enough to be my guinea pig for a Monster Match. Thank you so much for you patience and your support, and I hope you enjoy this!!

This was my first reptilian monster (not including nagas)! Its neither quite a dragonborn nor a lizardman; seems to be some combination of the two, but I already have a species outlined in my head for them. I really had a lot of fun creating it and its little blurb! Shoot... maybe I have another story idea for the future...

This Art and One-shot style will be a prize in my upcoming raffle, so please keep an eye out for it! If you have any questions, comments, or just want to say hi, drop me a DM/Ask/Comment. Check out my MASTERLIST for more stories and one-shots, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there.

#dragonborn #reptilian monster #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster pinup #oneshot #lizardman boyfriend #lizardman lover #dragonborn boyfriend #dragonborn lover #oc #exophilia #terato #lizardman

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Eleventh Letter

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

To: Boo Seungkwan

From: Y/N

Dear Seungkwan,

now that school is about to begin again, I've been thinking of you a lot. I just kept reminiscing the sweet moments we had and now, after all that reminiscing, though it's only been a few days since I rejected you, I realized this. I love you.

First things first, how are you? I hope you're doing fine.

Back to what I was saying, after this realization (that I loved you), my heart began to thump out of my chest. I feel so stupid. I'm a college student and yet, why does it seem like I do not know love? I was so sure I didn't like you as a lover but now that you and I aren't seeing each other, I miss you like crazy.

However, as much as I want to see you, I don't think I'll have the courage to talk to you. After I rejected you, I'm sure things are way too awkward between us.

I know you probably don't know this but I looked back on our text messages and sometimes, you were also online. I would see you typing out a message only for you to delete it and not send anything. Inside, I hoped that you would send me a text and see that I was viewing our chat the entire time.

I want to tell you first, I want to do everything first, but for some reason, I can't pick up the courage to do it. I know that maybe it will be better for me to make the first move and confess that I've loved you all along, but I just can't do it. Even after knowing that this love is mutual, I can't do it.

I don't know why either. I believe it's because I truly want to focus on my studies and leave college on a good note. However, at the same time, I wonder if I'm just being cowardly. I have made the first move before and I am quite confident that I can, but I just... I can't. It's a confusing feeling, Seungkwan.

I don't want to be selfish and keep you for myself but I want to be selfish and hope that maybe this selfishness would make both of us happier. We've only known each other for a few months and since summer is so short, the timing wasn't that great for us.

The only way we really met was at the cafe I worked at and the volunteer event that was hosted every week. When we did get to know each other and started hanging out, it still wasn't that much time because you enrolled in summer vocal lessons.

With so little time to get to know you, I'm not confident that we can truly become a good couple. To me, it seems like you and I are complete opposites. You're funny and loud and you can easily brighten any kind of atmosphere meanwhile I just blend in with it.

You told me that you liked me for a while and I'm sorry I didn't notice it. You continued liking me because you wanted to but even so, I feel a bit bad because, in the end, you don't even get to be with me. I like you too, Seungkwan, I just can't confess.

Is it really because I can't? Or I don't want to? I'm not sure and this feeling confuses me as well, I just can't describe it. I've always been indecisive even when I'm confident in my answers, which I know sounds stupid. I am a stupid person. I don't know how to love someone properly and it's my fault.

Anyway, back then, when you were beginning to show interest in me, I should have taken the hint. Was it near spring when you started coming to the cafe?

You would always crack a joke whenever I was the one who delivered you your coffee or took your order, and every single one of them made me smile, giggle, and laugh. I should have looked a bit closer at your expressions when you told those jokes. It wasn't until later during summer that I started noticing your sparkling eyes, heart-fluttering smile, and the way you gazed at me.

I think our romance involved only around time. When I spent time with you, I felt like I could spend all the time in the world with you, but eventually, reality hit me. We met during the summer and I have my final year of college coming soon, would being with you be a benefit? No, it shouldn't be a benefit.

Love is about loving someone just because. It's not about benefits. I think now, as I'm writing this letter, I've come to a conclusion. I just don't want to confess to you.

I think it's because I don't want the hardship of a relationship. It's not that I loved you any less than everyone else I fell for, because I do love you, but I don't want to have a relationship. My career path is chosen and I'm creating a road in front of me, will I have time for you?

Every relationship comes with hardships and sweet moments. Would the hardships be worth the sweetness? I think it will, but right now, I have to be the one who knows myself best; and I know that I need to be able to focus. Love can either help me or interfere with school.

It's not going to be easy for both of us. You told me that you wanted to go to graduate school and that you're also currently in college. If we did start dating, it would have been hard anyway. After college, I'm also going to graduate school, and I plan to go to one far far away from here.

Even if we decide that a relationship isn't for us, I want you to remember the sweet times we had. In that little time, you made me so happy without me even realizing it.

Whenever you volunteered, you were one of the hardest workers. I also always wanted to compliment your hands because to me, they looked so beautiful.

Sometimes when I needed help putting on an apron, you would not hesitate to help me. I would remember how you placed down everything and came to me to help when you saw me struggling. Instead of awkward silence, you talked to me casually while tying the strands behind my back, your touch so gentle.

That's why whenever I saw you struggling, I wanted to help too. Sorry I couldn't keep a conversation though, the silence between us was a bit awkward, but for some reason, it was also sweet. You thanked me afterward with your voice all shy and at that moment, I was a bit surprised by your cute expression and hidden shy nature.

Well, of course, I got to see more of it too.

Remember when that grandma told us we looked good together? It was during a volunteer event where we run a coffee truck and give out freebies from the cafe. You and I were operating the freebies section with a few others and an old granny came up to us.

Her eyes were a beautiful brown and she had her hair tied in a bun. She gave us such a sweet smile as we handed her the free cookie.

“I want this for my grandson,” She said, smiling sweetly.

“Your grandson? Then take another one!” You replied. You're such a smooth speaker. You can get along well with anyone, I envy you, Seungkwan.

“Really? Thank you, you must be a great son.”

As she was about to leave, her back slouched, she turned back and said, “By the way, you two match each other quite well. Are you guys perhaps...”

I remember you glancing at me with a gentle smile the shaking it off shyly. “No, we aren't...”

She apologized with another smile and then left.

It was that night that you confessed to me.

You offered to take me home and under a streetlight, you told me while scratching your head shyly, “I like you, Y/N.”

I wasn't sure of my feelings then, that's why I agreed when you offered to take me on three dates to see if I would change my mind; thinking about it makes me smile because all those three dates were fun, memorable, and warmly sweet.

The first date we went on was a bit awkward at first, but it was mainly fun. You took me to an arcade where we played a variety of games. You were extremely competitive and naturally funny. You made me laugh a lot that day and you made me comfortable. I enjoyed the time with you.

For our second date, you took me to a volleyball game. You continued rambling on and on about how much you loved sports. Even though you were just talking and watching the game, I didn't feel bored. Since you were so into the game, I became interested in it too.

After the volleyball game, you took me to a stadium and helped me learn to play. At first, each bounce would get you worried that I hurt my hand. You would keep brushing your fingers against mine. Playing volleyball was fun with you too, Seungkwan.

Our last, third date was at the amusement park. You were scared of many rides but got through with it because of me, you said. I found it cute whenever you were whining or sulking. I'm glad that you were being yourself around me.

When you were sending me home after that date, you asked me to hold hands. Your voice was so quiet and shy that I almost didn't hear you. I could tell that you were a bit doubtful that I would comply, and when I did let you hold my hand, you were smiling so brightly. I can't forget that shy, bright, beautiful smile.

Your hand was so warm.

We continued to see each other because you're a regular at the cafe. You order the same Americano.

After a few days of letting me think, you finally came up to me as I was leaving the cafe.

“Y/N,” You said, your voice sounding somewhat hopeful. “About my confession...”

I was quiet because, at that moment, I didn't have my feelings sorted out yet. I just thought that the timing wasn't right and that I shouldn't be in a relationship, and that I should focus on preparing for my last year of college.

Stupidly, I replied, “I'm sorry, Seungkwan.”

I could tell you were hurt. I couldn't explain any further about how much I liked you because I was idiotic and didn't realize it.

“It's okay. It's completely fine. I respect your choice... do you want me to walk you home?”

You continued smiling at me and talking with me but you sounded so hurt so I sent you away.

My father told me, when I visited him in the hospital a few days ago, that love is all about timing. With the amount of time we had and the amount of time we were going to get, it didn't seem like it was going to be a flower road.

The timing wasn't right.

If only I had met you not during the summer, but during a time where I had all the time in the world to spend with you... If only I had time.

I don't want to forget the memories we made. I know I'm a bit foolish and this bitter ending is partially my fault. I didn't have the right timing back then, now, and even in the future, I just know it.

Now, all I can do is sigh and reminisce.

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

If only there was more time for us, maybe love could have been expandable.

From,

Y/N

7/8/21 - 11:09 am

a/n: I have to go take a test later because I'm moving to a public (high) school... I'm nervous but I'm sure it'd be fine. + Hoshi getting scared while practicing spider is so funny lol

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Thirteen

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: I hope y'all are having a good week :) Rating: Explicit; 18+ Only Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Infidelity and sexual content.

If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you.

Chapter-specific warnings: Cursing; dirty talk; semi-public sex; spit as lube; possesiveness; slight dom/sub dynamics; slightly degrading language; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal fingering; vaginal sex; unsafe sex (wrap it up, kids, make good choices); creampie.

Summary: The text interactions that Neal and I had were limited to ‘how are you’ and ‘fine’; he’d tried to ask me out, and I had told him that I wasn’t going to be able to see him.

Here’s the thing about Loguidice: The guy did not know how to take a fucking hint.

He’d reached out a couple of times after we fucked. Thing was, immediately following that night, Andy and I had gotten around to doing...What we were doing. It wasn’t that it had happened because of Neal; I wasn’t some prize that the two were fighting over, this wasn’t some stupid game of tug war that the two were playing like they had been like that day at Harvey’s. Even if Neal had been under that impression somehow, there was no contest: I only wanted Andy.

The text interactions that Neal and I had were limited to ‘how are you’ and ‘fine’; he’d tried to ask me out, and I had told him that I wasn’t going to be able to see him. I hadn’t said why, but I’d implied that I was way too busy with work (which was actually partially true). How this had come up in conversation when he’d run into Laurie, I had no idea. How he’d managed to convince her that he and I had a good connection was beyond me. How she’d managed to make these plans without running them beyond Andy for a simple common sense check was beyond me. The fact that I was sitting at a table on a double fucking date? Unbelievable. After seeing Laurie’s name on my phone screen, I’d basically fallen off of Andy’s lap and run to put my robe on as if she was going to tell me that she was waiting outside of my front door, and to let her inside because she knew exactly what was going on. It was nothing of the kind, of course; she was on a shopping trip with Jacob two towns over, just wanted to see if I was available on Saturday because she had ‘a bit of a surprise’ for me. I’d laughed nervously and asked her what the surprise could possibly be, all while looking at Andy for any kind of explanation. He’d been shaking his head, just as in the dark as I was. “Well, I know you’ve been on Tinder and things lately-- And you haven’t started seeing anyone seriously, have you?” “N-No, I’m not seeing anyone--” “Well, there’s someone that really likes you, and I was thinking we could all have dinner together! You know, to make it less awkward.” “...When you say all have dinner together…” When she’d said all, she’d meant the four of us sitting at Melting Pot and silently daring each other to be that person that took the last bread roll. Frankly, it was about to be me, just so I had something to do with my mouth. I had hardly spoken more than five words since we’d sat down; Neal and Laurie had been carrying most of the conversation, which suited me fine. The way we were situated, Neal was seated across from me, Andy beside him; Laurie was sitting beside me and across from Andy. It was impossible to sneak glances at Andy the way we were; it was easier to crane my neck to look at Laurie, and less painful than trying to make small talk with Neal.

“How long has it been since you guys have seen each other?” Laurie nudged my arm with hers. “Oh… The Christmas party, I think,” I answered, reaching for my drink. Neal met my eye and smirked. “I think it was the morning after,” He retorted. I fought the urge to look away; he might take it as coy, when I was, in fact, really fucking annoyed. “Oh my god, really?” Laurie’s eyes were wide with moderate scandal as she turned to me again, “You didn’t tell me that.” “Well, I don’t really send around a newsletter of my sexual encounters. It would have very few subscribers and published maybe twice a year,” I gave her a tight smile before taking a sip from my cocktail. I heard Andy snort from the other side of the table, and I let my eyes dart to him for a moment. He was looking down at his plate, but he was grinning. I felt a leg brush up against mine under the table, and for a moment, I thought that it might be Andy's. When the foot didn’t hook around my ankle, though, I knew that it was Neal’s. I met his eye and he smiled, shooting me a wink. I arched a brow before lowering it, reaching for the last roll. --

Relief didn’t come until halfway through the meal. It came in the form of one Aydan Brock, the owner of one of the three gourmet pet treat bakeries in Newton. I groaned when my phone rang. “I’m so sorry guys-- if I let this go to voicemail, he’s gonna sic his hairless cat on me the next time we have a meeting,” I excused as I stood, taking my phone and heading for the front of the restaurant, planning on taking the call in the front entryway. It would be chilly, but I didn’t want to pile on my thick coat and all of my winter gear. I answered the call, against the chilly glass and listening to Aydan compliment the piece that we’d put in the Newton Herald. I glanced back at the table now and again, raising a brow when I saw Andy get up from the table. He met my eye as he walked toward the table, and I saw him tilt his head toward the back a little bit. I looked back toward the table quickly and, seeing Laurie and Neal immersed in conversation, I followed Andy. I went the long way round, weaving through tables on the other side of the restaurant. “Uh huh… Well of course, Mr. Brock,” I was saying as I rounded the corner to the restrooms. I frowned. This was where Andy had gone, wasn’t it? Or did he actually have to go to the bathroom and did I mistake the head tilt for-- A hand shot out from one of the three unisex bathrooms, gripping me by the wrist and pulling me inside. I sucked in a sharp gasp as Andy shut the door behind me and locked it. “Mr. Brock, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to need to call you back,” I said quickly, “I’m getting a call from--from Nora,” I added as Andy leaned down, pressing kisses to my neck, “I’d be happy to pick this up tomorrow--Mhm! Of course-- Thankyoubye--” I pulled the phone away from my ear, thumb viciously tapping over the red phone button until it hung up. I tucked it into the pocket of my skirt before I reached up, cupping the nape of Andy’s neck. “What are you doing?” I breathed. “What’s it feel like?” The words were muffled against my neck; they tickled. “Losing your mind is what it feels like,” I shuffled my feet apart as Andy pressed a thigh between mine. “Feels like that a little bit to me, too, shit,” Andy lifted his head, resting his forehead against mine, “Can you keep quiet for me?” “Depends on what you’re planning, Barber.” Andy tipped his head to the side, nipping at my lower lip before he stepped back. His hands slid over my hips before he turned me, pushing me toward the sink. I went, glancing back at him questioningly. He reached down, taking hold of my hands and placing them on the edge of the sink. “Keep these here,” He growled into my ear. My eyelids fluttered as I nodded. I glanced under my arm as I watched Andy drop to his knees. He pushed my skirt up before he dragged a finger along the seat of my tights. He pinched the flimsy fabric between his fingers before he ripped it apart. “Not too much,” I laughed a little, “I don’t want runs going down my le-eeegs, fuck,” My chastising descended to a hiss as Andy pushed my thighs farther apart and leaned up, mouthing over my my clothed mound. I bit my lip, curling my fingers around the cool bowl of the sink and letting my head fall forward. I felt Andy’s fingers peel aside the fabric of my underwear before his mouth tease along my lips, sucking hot, wet kisses from my hole to my clit. I squeezed my eyes shut, torn between focusing on the heat of his mouth and keeping myself quiet. Andy groaned against me and I bit my lip, stifling a moan as I pressed my hips down against his face. He leaned away for a moment as he slipped a finger into me. “Feel so tight,” He murmured, pumping his finger into me slowly, “You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, angel.” “I want it,” I mumbled, “Andy, I want it so bad--” “Yeah?” Andy pushed himself off of the floor and reached out, gripping my wrist and bringing my hand down to cup him through his jeans. I looked down through bleary eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans and reaching into his pants. “Fuck, you seriously went commando, Barber?” I brought my hand back to my mouth, licking my palm before I reached down, pulling Andy’s cock out of his jeans. “Unlike some people, I like to be ready for anything.” “Well if Neal took me home, I wanted him to have to work for it.” Andy growled again, turning his head and biting down on my clothed shoulder. “Don’t you dare,” He murmured, pressing a second finger into me and curling them, “Don’t you dare, angel-- Only person that’s fucking this pussy tonight is me.” “What if I just let him kiss it a little? Oh!” I gasped as Andy’s fingers fucked into me more harshly. “If that’s the plan, then I’ll stop right now,” Andy warned. I shook my head quickly, jacking Andy’s dick at the same speed he was fingering me. “I want it, Andy, please, please!” I whined. Andy pulled his fingers out of me and stepped closer to stand behind me. I let go of his cock, setting my hand back on the sink as he teased the head of his cock along my slit. “Condom?” He asked. “I don’t have anything with me-- I’m clean, are you--” “I am, but-- Are you sure--” “Andy if you don’t stick your dick in me right now, I will go out there and sit on Neal’s, I swear to god--” Andy shushed me, pressing his slick fingers into my mouth. I lapped over them, moaning at the taste of myself on his skin. I watched him in the mirror as he eased himself into me; I saw his eyelids flutter shut, sweet, pink lips parting with a quiet groan as he bottomed out. I was teetering between pain and pleasure; we were rushed, Andy had stretched me out, but if we’d had some more time, he could’ve given me another finger. “Fuck,” He sighed, “Fuck, angel.” He leaned against me, wrapping his arm around my middle and burying his face into my hair. I leaned my head against him, feeling myself adjust to him. “You feel so good,” I whispered, “I feel so fucking full, Andy--” He groaned, rolling his hips experimentally. I bit my lip as I squeezed down on him. We froze as there was a knock on the door. “Andy? You in there?” Neal. “Yep,” Was Andy’s quick, flat answer. There was a pause, then -- nothing. Andy met my eye in the mirror, arm unwrapping from me and pulling his fingers out from my mouth. He lowered that hand to the sink beside mine. “We’re gonna have to be quick,” He murmured, “Think you can be a good girl and cum on my cock when I tell you to?” I was glad I was sandwiched between the sink and Andy because my knees damn near buckled. Andy nodded, pulling out most of the way before easing himself back in. He kept his eyes on me as he went on, “Yeah, I know you can. You're always so good for me, you know that? Even when you’re being a bossy little bitch, you’re so good for me.” I bit my lip, struggling to keep my eyes open and on Andy’s. I wanted to watch him, sure, but I also wanted to close my eyes and just feel. “I wanted to take my goddamn time with you, you know?” His hips worked faster now, “Wanted to spread you out, make you cum on my tongue, my fingers, two, three times before I fucked you. Wanted to do this right, damnit… He didn’t fuck you like this, did he?” He added, lowering his head to hiss the question directly into my ear, “He didn’t fuck you this hard, this good--” I shook my head and Andy chuckled, “Doesn’t matter, anyway, cause when you were bouncing on his cock, you were thinkin’ about mine.” “Andy,” I pleaded, squeezing my eyes shut finally. “Oh, I know you were, pretty girl,” He murmured, “You’re gonna be thinkin’ about it all night, too. You’re gonna go back to that table and you’re gonna be dripping with me. And all I’m gonna be thinking about is getting back between those thighs and having my fucking dessert,” Andy reached down, fingers rubbing tight, fast circles on my clit. My jaw dropped. I tipped my head forward, the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. “You gonna cum?” I nodded quickly. “That’s it-- Good girl, milk my cock, angel-- fuck,” Andy leaned over me, pressing his face into the back of my neck as I came, squeezing around his cock. He kept pumping his hips, kept moving his fingers as I felt him spill into me. I let out a high whine, unable to help it as my hips stuttered at his continued ministrations. “Andy-- fingers-- too much, please,” I mumbled weakly. Andy’s fingers stilled, sliding away from my clit and sliding to my tight-covered thigh. Andy straightened slowly, easing out of me and gently sliding my underwear back into place. I glanced back at him, knowing full well that I looked glassy-eyed and fucked out. Andy smiled as he tucked himself back into his jeans. “You alright there, angel?” He murmured. “Mhm,” I nodded. “Good girl,” He murmured, sliding my skirt back into place, “Lemme make sure the coast is clear. I’ll knock once if it is.” I nodded, pushing myself to stand up straight as Andy went to unlock the door. As he stepped outside I reached down, straightening my shirt and brushing my hair back from my face. I looked flushed; maybe I could pass that off as the cold? Andy knocked once and I stepped out into the hall. “I’m gonna sneak out through the kitchen and take a walk around the parking lot,” I said. “Alright,” Andy nodded. He gave my ass a swat before turning down the hall. I shook my head, looking after him before I turned to go the other way. When I finally returned to the table, Neal and Laurie smiled up at me. “I’m so sorry about that,” I said, sitting down. “It’s alright! Andy said he ran into you and you looked really busy so they put your food under a heat lamp,” Laurie said. I nodded to Andy. “Well thank you for that.” “Sure,” he winked. Bastard. “We were actually already talking about dessert,” Neal added, “I’m not sure if you’ve looked yet.” “Uh-- No,” I said, picking my drink up for another sip, “What looks good to you guys?” “I was thinking about the Boston cream pie,” Andy offered, tone dripping with nonchalance. I could’ve killed him. Tag list @fanficadddddict69 ; @nina-sj ; @rosalynshields ; @what-is-your-wish ; @chris-butt ; @aubreeskailynn ; @angels-pie ; @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

#I Could Be Your Sometimes #andy barber imagine #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #Andy Barber/You #Andy Barber/Reader

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i-just-wanna-be-called-sparkle · 3 years

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Okay. Killer Teddie AU time. Full spoiler warning ahead for P4 and even a bit of P5. Full timeline of all events in order up ahead. Smaller details and ideas at the very end of it. Some of this might not make sense or have an explanation because, at the time, I hadn’t finished base game Persona 4 and had no idea of stuff like Izanami, Sagiris, and so on and so forth. Even now, I haven’t yet finished P4G. The next time I work on this AU will be after I’ve finished P4G and have a good grasp on everything to change what doesn’t make sense and add stuff that does. For now take what I’ve worked on thus far. Sorry if some of my explanations are a little wonky. Extremely fucking long post ahead, I’m seriously not joking around this time.

And, before I start, I’m not the only one who worked on the AU! This is a team project between me and my gf! I know it’s not much to say, but I want to give half of the credit to her rather than taking all of it for myself, cuz while a lot of these ideas came from me, a lot came from her, too.

So, let me explain why Teddie’s a killer in the first place. It starts when he’s still just a mindless Shadow, and he comes face to face with a group of Persona users that existed long before the investigation team, consisting of Tohru Adachi, Mayumi Yamano, and a lot of miscellaneous unnamed characters who may or may not be made into proper characters in the futures. Why this first group existed and consists of those characters is one of those things that hasn’t been fully thought through yet. But, one thing’s for sure, they love going into the TV world and just beating up Shadows for fun every once in a while. At this point in the story, Shadows aren’t necessarily hostile yet, so basically, Teddie witnesses a bunch of his own kind get slaughtered for no reason and, probably because he’s starting to grow some kind of consciousness at this point, goes buck wild and kills the whole group save for Tohru Adachi, who manages to escape. This is how Mayumi Yamano meets her demise and also, how Teddie grows a proper body - it isn’t that bear suit of his though, it’s a human body, most likely the result of humans being the only thing he was exposed to aside from Shadows in that world. From that point forward, a fiery hatred for humans begins to develop within him.

Y’know how Teddie’s real crafty, making those glasses for the Investigation Team to use to see better in the TV world? Well, after a while, he decides he’s tired of walking around bear naked and makes himself some clothes to wear. Those fingers aren’t dexterous for nothing. Not too long after he makes these clothes, Saki ends up in the TV world - for another reason that wasn’t thought through well enough yet, but it’s something like she has a Persona too. This AU is very generous with who gets Personas, I know, please bear with it for now. She ends up bumping into Teddie, the two interact, and because Saki’s a little bitch she finds Teddie to be quite strange, what with the way he talks and how he apparently “comes from the TV world,” and is very verbal about it - very rude about it, too. This first impression with a new human + Teddie’s already intensifying hatred for humans = Saki’s gruesome demise. “Are all humans like this?” Is what Teddie thinks. “Are they all cruel? Are they all mean?” Teddie now has a stronger hate for Humanity that only grows stronger and stronger the more he’s forced to sit in that quiet TV world and think and think and think and think about it.

And along with that hate for humanity, comes a hate for his current human form. So he crafts himself that bear suit of his, and wears it all the time - I believe he also makes it so whatever he bumps into next doesn’t think he’s weird sounding or weird speaking or weird… looking, which, I’ll describe now rather than at the end of the post. Teddie doesn’t look all that different, but the main changes are that his eye colour is now a duller, greyer shade of blue, he is overall even paler, and he is also a lot skinnier. No real reason for these design choices aside from self indulgence without going too overboard. Moving on from that, not too long after he makes the suit is when Chie and Yu and Yosuke go in for the first time. Teddie keeps on a facade of innocence and happiness for a “good first impression,” and nothing changes from then up until the appearance of Yosuke’s Shadow. Since a Shadow is the side of oneself that they don’t want to acknowledge or see, it’s chock full of bad traits and negative emotions - further solidifying Teddie’s belief that all humans are just awful, sinful, nasty creatures.

One thing that Isn’t well thought out at all, and something that I have no clue where to put on the timeline, is this whole deal between Teddie and Namatame. Basically, Teddie communicates with Namatame through the TV (can’t remember if he just talks through it, or sticks his head through), and convinces Namatame to start pushing people in not to save them, but for something along the lines of how he “secretly wants them to die.” Maybe it was because Namatame shares Teddie’s beliefs of humanity being repulsing, but it’s too vague a memory to make heads or tails of it. Don’t know how things would work out without it, though, so it’s sticking around as is for now.

Also, as of right now in the AU, the IT is completely unaware of Teddie’s human form hiding right under his bear form/bear suit. Good lord, I am already tired of typing this all out, this post is so long. Still got a long way to go, kind of.

Here’s another loose idea that hasn’t been fully thought about, and it’s when Teddie encounters his Shadow in Rise’s dungeon. My memories are a bit foggy on this one, but I’ll try my best to remember. So, his encounter with his Shadow stays largely the same, with maybe a couple of his Shadow’s lines being changed to represent how not only is he hiding originally being a Shadow from his teammates, but also how he’s hiding the fact that he’s the killer they’re trying to find - all of it is too vague for the IT to piece together, though. But also a thing that’s changed is his reaction to his Shadow is a LOT more aggressive, a slip up to show a small glance of his true personality - but again, the IT doesn’t think anything of it because, Teddie’s facing his Shadow here, of COURSE he’s going to act different when he’s coming face to face with a part of himself he wants to ignore. Eventually, he manages to accept his Shadow, but for one way or another, a second Shadow starts to develop within him. Maybe it’s because he only partially accepted his Shadow, maybe it’s because of something else - like he didn’t accept his Shadow for the right reason, I can’t remember. But it starts to develop. I remember wanting to give him a second persona akin to what Akechi has in p5 - one for lies, and one for truths, but this is one of those things that will either need to be completely cut out or heavily modified in my opinion.

Teddie kills more frequently in this AU. In between when he’s helping the IT rescue people from the TV world, he’s throwing in people on the night that it fogs up so the IT doesn’t have time to see people appear on the TV/doesn’t have time to go in and save them, resulting in their deaths. Teddie so far has only thrown in people who have been assholes or scum in his eyes, and these are the only people that end up dying in the TV world even with the advent of the IT. Teddie gets away with this by sneaking out at night sometimes and either witnessing these people do disgusting things, or overhearing about it. Two candidates/victims are the two girls from Yosuke’s social link (hopefully you know who I mean) and the bully/bullies from Chie’s social link. Though, for the two girls, I like the idea of it being AFTER Teddie comes to the real world for real and shows off his human form, and starts working at Junes. He’s “working overtime,” late at night, calls up those two girls and asks them to come to Junes to “help him stock shelves” - “I’ll make sure you and your friend get payed extra for it. I’ll take it out of Yosuke’s paycheck.” Next thing you know, they’ve been knocked out and thrown into the TV because they’re heartless assholes in his eyes.

Only way Teddie would get away with a killing like that, though, is through having an outfit to disguise himself from Junes’ security cameras - so, at some point in the timeline, that’s what he does. Repurposes his old clothes from the TV world into an outfit to disguise his identity, to let him keep killing, and he keeps it tucked away either somewhere in the real world or in the TV world. He probably does this before he “becomes human,” so that his clothes are kept secret from the IT team, and that whole “I’m like a newborn in here” scene can happen.

Also, just for clarification, that hate Teddie felt for Yosuke’s Shadow? And how it solidified his hatred for humanity yet further, and his belief that they are all scummy beings? This keeps happening for every single Shadow he sees. Chie’s, Yukiko’s, Kanji’s, etc.

Mitsuo Kubo is the only one thrown in by Teddie who doesn’t die, so that the plot can progress normally, but also because it probably went something like this. Teddie sneaks out late at night to find more disgusting humans to kill, to “purge the earth of such horrendous beings,” and comes across Mitsuo killing Morooka. A human? Committing murder? A human being slaughtering another human being? How sinful. How disgusting. How treacherous. Teddie has to deal with this immediately. So he throws Mitsuo into the TV world without waiting for the fog to settle first (it’s too dire of a situation to ignore, after all). He’s kind of hypocritical, thinking Mitsuo is a terrible person for committing murder (he is, though) and then going right ahead and throwing him in the TV, aiming to kill. He’s just cleansing the world, though - that’s how he sees it.

Also, I believe for most nights when he decides to sneak out, he’s wearing his disguise outfit, so that he doesn’t get caught if he’s in a situation like that where he kills someone on a whim - or just to avoid being caught when he’s out so late snooping around for more victims. Random fun fact by the way: the idea for this whole AU started from the fact that Teddie could use his knowledge of the TV world and how it works to easily get away with using it to commit crimes. Moving on now.

Another thing that doesn’t yet have a place in the timeline is this small thing. I like to think Teddie has a tendency to stay up later into the night because of his occasional nightly outings, and he doesn’t really have enough time to fix his sleep schedule - or he actually just CAN’T. But anyways, he’s keeping himself busy at night while he can’t sleep, maybe playing on an old console in Yosuke’s room, when Yosuke wakes up and starts talking to him until he also gets tired enough to fall back asleep. He says to Teddie that he’s worried about him. “You’ve got bags under your eyes, and you’re basically made of flesh and bone.” He says. Maybe Teddie’s skinny enough his ribs show a little. “This isn’t the first time you’ve stayed up this late, either. Like you’re restless about something.” Sometimes Teddie just paces around the room until he gets tired enough to pass out. “And, what time is it, like, 2:00 AM? I’m really worried about you, Ted.” And that really gets to Teddie. He starts to cry. Here he is, devoting his time to hating humanity, to killing humans, to putting on a happy go lucky, innocent facade around his “friends” to hide his true nature and keep himself emotionally distant from them - and poor Yosuke over here is oblivious to it all, worrying for his dear friend and roommate like this is all unnatural when it’s what he truly is on the inside. And for just a moment, Teddie feels truly bad, and he just keeps crying and crying and crying, probably while Yosuke holds him and tries to comfort him, until he exhausts himself, goes to sleep, and pushes it all out of his head the next morning. But on that night, he had let his guard drop, and he had let himself be vulnerable, and he had allowed himself to get a little closer to Yosuke - a little more attached to him than before. It was only a little, but it was enough to be concerning… it was “just a little” too much for comfort. He can’t let himself get close to that thing.

Oh no, I’m starting to lose focus. We’re nearing the end now. So, you know how Teddie makes that promise to Nanako, right? That he’ll stay in their world to play with her and such? He probably makes the same promise in this AU.

I say probably, because depending on wether he did or not leads to two separate endings, and I can’t decide on which I like more.

So, if he DOES make the promise, HE’S the one who pushes Nanako in. The reason? He’s getting too attached. He’s letting his guard down around a human, and that scares him. He’s getting emotionally attached and invested, and that scares him. He’s starting to care about something that he hates with all of his heart, and that scares him. So he pushes her into the TV, because he’s not allowed to do that, because all humans are evil - no exceptions. This results in Teddie being outed because, when Nanako dies in the hospital (don’t know how that happens yet without Namatame, plothole), he can’t handle the guilt anymore. It’s overwhelming him, suffocating him, drowning him. He falls to the floor, completely breaking down, screaming and sobbing about how it’s all his fault. Then, he either runs out of the room and throws himself into a TV after realizing he’d outed himself, or Yosuke throws him into a TV in a fit of rage and because he feels like Teddie betrayed his trust by pretending to act all innocent when he was the killer.

If he DOESN’T make the promise, or at least, doesn’t get attached, Namatame throws her into the TV and things play out the exact same until they get to the top of Heaven, where Teddie completely loses his shit at Namatame. Maybe he goes to beat the fuck out of him, maybe he’s screaming and shouting at him, in any case, he’s showing his raw personality now. That isn’t what outs him, though - it’s Namatame. “I recognize you.” He says, either through his voice or his appearance. “Why are you so mad at me? I’m doing what you told me to. I’m doing what you want.” Something along those lines. “What?” The IT reacts. “Teddie, is this true? Have you been lying to us?” And the only thing Teddie can do is freeze up, and run away, out of the dungeon - probably not without beating up Namatame a little more for outing him. “Fuck you.” It’s like an endless stream of insults and vulgar language pour from his mouth. “You’ve gone ahead and exposed me, you bitch. You little shit. I hate you. It’s all your fault.”

Now on to Teddie’s dungeon. This part is, uh… Pretty dark. General content warning for death ahead.

So, to contrast Nanako’s dungeon Heaven, Teddie’s dungeon is Hell. There are two concepts for this dungeon though - one is that it’s just conventional catholic/christian Hell, and the other was that it’s based off of/is the frozen over Hel in norse mythology. Because, Teddie has ice attacks, you know? But they’re both largely the same, if not visually. In the earlier floors, there are some objects strewn around like burnt and torn up images of Teddie and the IT, Teddie and Nanako, his bear suit, and maybe one or two other objects of some importance to him. The voices that are heard at the beginning of all the early floors consist of Teddie sobbing and dealing with his inner turmoil of hating humans but getting attached to the likes of Yosuke, Nanako, the IT overall, and the like. “They’re humans.” He thinks. “They’re humans, and all humans are awful. I hate all of them. But I love them. They’re different… They’re nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” “Maybe humanity isn’t so bad after all…” “*sobbing* I’m sorry, Nana-Chan…”

You know how earlier dungeons like Yukiko’s and Kanji’s have that floor in the middle of the dungeon where you encounter the Shadows and that weird title card thing appears? That exists in Teddie’s dungeon, and on the floor right before it, the voice at the beginning of the floor is just Teddie screaming hysterically, maybe even crying. Why? Well, when you go to that next floor…

There’s Teddie. Standing in front of the hanging corpses of Nanako and Yosuke, hesitantly reaching out to them like he can’t process what he’s looking at. And when the IT calls out to him from behind him, the way he looks at them is estranging. He looks terrified, he has to do a double take because one second he was staring at Yosuke’s corpse, then the next moment, he was looking at him, perfectly alive, with the IT. They try and reach out to him, but he’s like a spooked wild animal, and he runs away to the next floor.

The later floors are now decorated with Nanako and Yosuke’s corpses, possibly even the rest of the IT, and the voices now are just Teddie arguing with himself and screaming hysterically, like he’s going insane being in such a horrible place, like he’s becoming more and more deranged with every passing moment. “This is how it should be! All those heartless monsters DESERVE to die! They deserve to hang lifelessly this! But they don’t! I don’t want them to die! I don’t think like that! But I do! But I don’t! These guys are horrendous- no, they’re my friends! THEY’RE SCUM OF THE EARTH! NO, I DON’T THINK LIKE THAT!” And so on and so forth.

When they finally reach the last floor, the deepest floor, the final circle of Hell, they find Teddie there, deranged to the point of practically being a different person. That second Shadow that was developing within him now is toying with him, messing with his head, whispering things to him that make him clutch his head and beg for it all to stop. The IT can’t get through to him now, and he either snaps, gets hostile at them for being “heartless, monstrous, evil humans,” and forces them into a fight, or that Shadow ends up possessing him (either fully, or to a certain extent), and they have no choice but to fight him and knock some sense into him. In either case, he gains his second Persona - something that will most likely be similar to Magatsu-Izanagi, not sure yet - and also, for the sake of self indulgence, it’s like he can control wether or not he is more or less like a Shadow. AKA, goopy black forearms fitted with deadly sharp claws instead of fingers.

I can’t actually remember what EXACTLY happens after the battle, aside from Teddie Goes To Prison, but here’s another battle outcome I almost forgot about that I am DETERMINED to add into the final product. Remember at the beginning, when I specified that Adachi was the only member of the first group of Persona users to survive Teddie’s slaughter? Well, at some point, he overhears the IT talking about Teddie being the killer and the TV world’s existence and decides to butt in. “Can I come along too?” He asks. “I’m a Persona user, just like all of you. You’re talking about catching the culprit here, right? The same culprit who killed Mayumi in the beginning? The same culprit who probably almost got me, then?” Something along those lines. So, he goes in with them, and would you look at that - Teddie still hasn’t forgotten his face. So, in the case of “Teddie snapping and going all hostile on them,” it’s most likely because he sees Adachi mixed in with the IT and alllll of those emotions from so long ago come flooding back… combine that with his hysteria, and boom, you’ve got a raging Teddie hell bound on taking his revenge and getting some closure before he either goes to prison or dies trying not to.

And… I think that’s it. Only thing left to mention is that at some point, right before my hyperfixation ended, me and my gf were trying to figure out a way to implement an accomplice ending and a Teddie Arcana Change, but the end of my obsession came too early in the development of both of those, so there’s not much to say. Also, in this AU, I’m thinking of making Shadows hostile because of the first group of Persona users, like how Teddie hates all of humanity almost purely because of that group. Also, small detail, he’s wearing that disguise of his during the fight - dunno how he got it, but I do wanna add it in somehow, though. This post is also already long enough, so I should stop myself here.

Speaking of that, holy fuck, thanks to anyone who’s read this entire long ass messy post. Like that is just so awesome, I commend you for it. Seriously this post took actual hours just to write down, it’s way too long for any NORMAL person to read all the way through, heavy emphasis on normal (affectionate). Asks about this AU are welcomed and appreciated, if there are any. If not, seriously literally just the fact that anyone might be reading this message at all is enough to sustain me.

#persona 4 #p4 teddie #how am i supposed to tag this as a persona alternate universe when arena ultimax exists ;-;#persona 4 au #let’s hope that tag works #p4 spoilers #yeesh almost forgot to add that

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

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Finding You (Part Ten of ??)

Aha! Finally it is done!

Hey everyone! It’s been one Monday of a week, but I finally had today (Saturday) off so I finally got to work on this update. I also thought I’d give you guys an update on my scheduling. One of the supervisor’s at work is done with her semester at college, so I’m probably not going to have a set schedule for awhile. That means the only day I know I will have off is Sunday. I usually work on writing on my day off, so updates are probably going to vary wildly from week to week. If I don’t get one out the rest of the week, you should see an update from me on Sunday (though it might be at a late hour, like this week).

Anywho, I hope you’re all doing alright and that you’re staying safe. I know I have some readers who recently had Finals Week (or whatever the equivalent of that is for you). I want to congratulate you on finishing your semester (because it is a big accomplishment), and that I hope you got high marks on your respective tests/projects/ect.

So, as always, if you’re new here, here is the link to Part One. You can also find the links to all the parts on my Master List if you’ve missed any of the other updates :)

This update was brought to you by the support of the following: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling (Seriously, thanks so much for the support you guys! I love each and every one of you!) If you’d like to be on the tags list for any future updates, please just drop a comment below or send me a message!

Satan/Mc

Word Count: 4,144

Trigger warnings: There might be some language in this one, Satan gets PISSED

“Will you just sit down Satan? You’re making me nervous,” Asmo complained, watching his brother with concern.

“Yeah. You’re totally breaking my concentration here,” Levi chimed in, not looking up from his game.

“Well, you can take your complaints to Lucifer,” Satan stated, starting what had to be his 200th pass on the same stretch of the ballroom, “I don’t know why we had to be here so early.”

“We got here ten minutes ago,” Belphie sighed, leaning on Beel, “You’re just nervous.”

“And what if I am?” Satan asked, his anxiety adding bite to the question.

“We’re all nervous,” Beel gently reminded Satan, “We’ve all missed our favorite human.”

“Not human anymore,” Mammon muttered, glaring at some undefined point in front of him, leg shaking anxiously. He had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since the night of the art show, gone most of the day, and retreating to his room when he was home.

An awkward hush fell across the group at his words, everyone’s thoughts turning inward. Satan sighed and sat down, the feathers on his boa trying their hardest to enter his mouth. The lacing on his shirt threatened to strangle him along with the collar, and his tail kept flexing around his leg. He was a bundle of nerves, and he couldn’t seem to relax. He had wanted to wear a simple suit or tuxedo, but the invitation from Diavolo had explicitly said demon forms were to be used.

A strangled but disgusted gasp escaped Asmo’s mouth, “What the hell is he doing here?!”

“Another jilted lover Asmo?” Belphie asked, rolling his eyes.

“No! It’s Michael!” Everyone’s head whipped up at that, even Levi.

“OMG! WFT?” Levi exclaimed, eyes large and worried.

“Bro, why is he here?” Mammon nearly growled, glaring at the man in question.

“I don’t know, but I want him to leave!” Asmo’s voice was getting more shrill as time went on.

“Is tha’ Lord Diavolo with ‘im?” Mammon asked, still glaring, though he wasn’t growling anymore.

“OMG, you’re right. They're laughing together too!” Levi narrated.

Beel had joined Mammon in glaring at Michael, as his twin smiled smugly, “Oh, you guys didn’t know?” Everyone looked over at that and you could tell Belphie was relishing in the shock, “Mc came with some angels. I hear Luke’s here too.”

“How can you possibly be happy about this?”

“What are you all gawking at? You all look like you’ve-” Lucifer cut off, finally seeing what his brothers were looking at. If he hadn’t already been in his demon form, Satan was fairly sure he would’ve burst into it immediately, though he didn’t look as surprised as Satan would expect him to.

“Oh.”

The absolute contempt and disgust that dripped from that single word had all the brothers sharing looks, most very concerned. Belphie caught Satan’s eye, shooting him a sly, wicked grin. Satan wanted to share in Belphie’s enjoyment, but his mind was taking this new roadblock into account, trying to figure out how this was going to factor into his plan.

Satan didn’t really have an opinion on Michael. He had never really met the angel, his only knowledge of him coming from his shared memories with Lucifer, the little he’d heard from his brothers, and what he’d gleaned from Luke and Simeon’s conversations, not that he really cared. He simply wasn’t someone who mattered. That is, until now.

“Did you know Lucifer?” Asmo asked.

“Diavolo had told me Mc had come with two angels, though he didn’t mention names. I just assumed it was Simeon and Luke,” Lucifer was still watching Diavolo and Michael talking, though he had taken on a frigid demeanor, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. You didn’t have to be the Avatar of Wrath to sense the boiling anger underneath the frosty exterior.

Barbatos walked over to Diavolo and whispered something. The Demon Prince nodded and stood up, the congregation quieting, “Hello and welcome, each and every one of you! I’m so glad you could make it!” he voice boomed out into the

Levi scoffed, “As if we had a choice.”

“Shaddup. Ya wanted to come jus’as much as the rest of us,” Mammon hissed.

“As most of you know, this ball is in honor of Jane Doe,”

“Wait.. Who’s that?” Beel asked, confused.

“That’s her pseudonym,” Belphie explained softly, Beel nodding his understanding.

“We have other guest’s as well, who came with Jane. Michael, the archangel,” Diavolo gestured to Michael who raised his hand in greeting with a smile, “And Luke, Jane’s older brother. You may all remember him when he was here as one of our first exchange students,” A blonde male who had been sitting by Michael inclined his head.

“Oh my gosh, that’s Luke?!” Asmo said loudly enough some nearby demons looked over.

“I didn’t even recognize him,” Levi murmured.

“Did he say brother?” Mammon asked.

“Shhhh!” Lucifer hissed as Diavolo continued.

“Now for the person you’ve all been waiting for, Jane Doe,” all the brothers held their breath as Mc walked over to Diavolo, an absolute vision. All of the brothers were transfixed, their own personal feelings overcoming everything else. Lucifer, having already seen Mc at the palace was the first to recover, looked over to Satan to see how he was doing. He was encouraged by what he saw. Satan was subconsciously touching his pocket where he knew he letter was at. Though he seemed a bit nervous, the fierce resolve in his eyes made him smile proudly, before looking back to Diavolo.

“I hope you all treat our guests with the same respect and kindness they’ll give to you. With the introductions done, let the party commence!”

“So, what’s the plan Satan?” Asmo asked, bringing the fourth born out of his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you need to talk with Mc right?” at the nod he continued, “Well, how about we help you?”

“We?” Belphie sighed, grabbing a lock of his hair.

“Yes we,” Asmo sighed, rolling his eyes.

Belphie sighed, but turned to look at Satan anyways, “Well, if I have to help, what do you need?”

“I just need to give her a letter,” Satan explained, about to tell everyone they didn’t need to bother, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Don’t you want to talk to her though?” Levi asked.

“Well, I need her to read this first. I didn’t make the best impression last time, and I don’t think I’ll be much better this time around,” Satan admitted, looking chagrined. He hadn’t told any of the brothers the entirety of what happened.

“Easy enough,” Mammon announced, getting up, “We just need to walk over and give it to her then.”

“Not so fast Mammon,” Lucifer said, motioning for him to sit, “She’s probably going to be flanked by those two angels all evening. I don’t know if they’d take well to one of us handing Lillith’s descendant a letter. Luke at least, is aware of Satan’s attachment to Mc, and last time I checked, he’s not a fan of ours. As for the other…” Lucifer trailed off, irritation twisting his features, “Who knows how that may go.”

“So we need to make sure to separate them all,” Levi mused.

“Do you have any ideas on how to do that? Like, anything from one of your anime’s?” Asmo asked.

“I mean, there’s the ‘trying to get the main character and love interest alone’, but it doesn’t always work, though it’s entertaining to watch.”

“Well, we want this to go well,” Asmo sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What about you then? Where’s your grand idea?” Levi scoffed.

“Actually, I do have an idea,” Asmo giggled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I really should’ve just done this myself,” Satan sighed, Asmo standing next to him.

“Oh, shush! This will turn out great, just wait.”

“When’s it supposed to work then? I mean, we’ve been standing here for an hour and we haven't caught a glimpse of Mc.”

“Patience, patience. Beel and Belphie… Well, Beel already has Luke distracted with food talk, and Lucifer’s doing a good job of keeping Michael… On his toes, I guess?”

“I do have to admit watching him run away from Michael is amusing,” Satan chuckled, his eyes darting to Lucifer from their perch on the balcony above the dancefloor. He was obviously fighting his pride, knowing he was running away from Michael, but unable to stay and deal with the angel who wouldn’t stop trying to find him, partially due to his pride as well. Looking back to Michael, Satan grinned, “Gotcha!”

“Wha… Oh! There she is! Told you!” Asmo nearly shouted.

“That was my ear.”

“Oop. Sorry.”

Satan watched Mc speak with Michael, noting all the small changes in her behavior. There was a level of refinement that hadn’t been there before, which made perfect sense seeing as how she had been raised in the Celestial Realm by Simeon. She was more graceful for one thing, and seemed more calm and at ease than he remembered her. She did seem more reserved and closed off than before, though that could just because she was talking with a superior. She was fairly open with me until I screwed it up, so hopefully she retained that part of herself, and hopefully I didn’t screw it up.

Asmo sighed, “Lucifer isn’t doing his job.”

“Did you really expect him to? He did say he didn’t want to be part of whatever you were planning.”

“Well, Michael chose to follow him. He was chosen. It’s fate.”

“Still doesn’t mean he’s going to actively participate.”

“Fine. Looks like I’m going to have to have Mammon and Levi do some work for us.”

“You really don’t have to do this. I can handle it.”

“Yeah, but that’s no fun. I also want to mess with Michael as much as possible.”

“Fine. What do we do next?”

“We have to get down onto the dance floor. I’m calling Mammon right now.”

They found the staircase closest to Mc and Michael and made their way down, Asmo on his DDD the whole time, “Yes… Do you see us? Oh, there you are. Do you see them? No, left… Left! Your other left! Mammon, how are you this stupid?... I’m not the one who can’t see-... No, you listen! I can’t stand that you-... How dare you! I- Ugh, fine… Yup, just distract him…” Asmo laughed, “No, though I would pay to see that. Maybe, walk past and see if he takes the bait?... Well, you’re just going to have to deal with it Levi… Look, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to your game… Wow, I thought you wanted Mc back, but I guess not. I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t spend anytime with you… Then get your act together! Okay, Mammon, we’re close enough now. Alright, take it away.”

Satan watched as Mammon and Levi stepped out of the crowd, Mammon talking loudly enough to turn a lot of heads. Unfortunately, Michael was not one of these, though Mc seemed interested in what was going on. She seemed to ask Michael about it, but he just brushed it off, continuing to talk.

“Why does Mammon think he’s such hot stuff?” Asmo asked, rubbing his forehead.

“Don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles,” Satan gently chided.

“You’re right,” Asmo sighed, “I just don’t know how to… Whoa. Look at that.”

Satan looked to find Diavolo talking with Mc and Michael. He also spied Lucifer keeping his distance, but frowning so intensely he was surprised Diavolo couldn't feel it. Michael said something and Diavolo laughed delightedly, motioning for Mc and Michael to join him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s alone now. I’ll cover you!” Asmo hissed, pushing Satan forward.

Mc was sitting on a bench, on the outskirts of the room. She was watching the crowd with interest, eyes bright and curious. Satan hesitated, before steeling himself and walking forward, letter in hand. He was almost close enough to her to call out, when some demon approached her. Satan turned on his heel, and concealed himself in the crowd. He watched the demon extend their hand, heart sinking as he realized what that meant. She smiled and nodded her head, taking their hand as she was escorted out onto the dancefloor.

“What happened? Where’d she go?” Asmo asked, joining his brother.

“Someone asked her to dance before I got there,” Satan muttered irritably.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan looked at the time on his DDD. There was only two hours left of the ball, and he still had the letter. The past hour had been spent trying to figure out how to get Luke to leave Mc’s side without much luck. Beel had apparently gone to raid the food table and then the palace kitchen, and Belphie had fallen asleep, so Luke had found his way back to his sister and hadn’t left her side since. Worse yet, it seemed his opinion on demons was unchanged, keeping most of those that came over to talk to the artist at bay with a single look.

“He needs to leave so we can get on with this.” Asmo huffed, upset his plan was failing.

“Well, he is a chihuahua,” Levi said distractedly, “I can’t… say for certain, but he’s probably… Trying to keep her out of trouble… Woot! Got it!”

“Levi, could you stop gaming for five seconds?” Asmo sighed.

“Well, I have bad ideas, so no. You’re lucky I decided to stick around at all,” Levi huffed, eyebrows furrowed, though from the game or Asmo, Satan didn’t know.

“Oh come on! Are you really that upset by my comment?” When Levi didn’t answer, Asmo rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Do you have any ideas then Levi?” Satan asked

“Not really.”

“Yo, yo, yo! Luke! What’s happenin’ my man?”

Both Mc, Luke and all three brother’s looked over at Mammon strolling toward the duo through the crowd.

“Is he seriously…?” Levi asked.

“I think so…” Satan answered, shocked.

“How’ve ya’ been?” Mammon asked, grinning at the blonde angel.

“Fine I suppose,” Luke answered, suspicion lacing his words.

“Nice, nice. So, this is your sister?” The emphasis on the word left no interpretation of what he thought of the title.

“Yup. Of course, you can understand an angel’s definition of sibling though, don’t you Mammon?” Luke shot back.

“Oh! You’re Mammon!” Mc said suddenly, turning her full attention to Mammon “I’ve heard a lot about you!”

Mammon turned bright red, “Oh, you’ve heard of the Great Mammon?”

“Of course!” Mc beamed at him.

Mammon started stuttering, “W-W-Well, o-of course ya’ have.”

Mc giggled a bit at that, smiling at the second born, “I was actually hoping you might have some time you could spare to answer some of my questions.”

Satan was sure Mammon was going to combust, but Mc wrapped her arm around his anyways, “We’ll be back Luke.”

The blonde angel seemed like he wanted to argue, but something was holding him back, “I’ll be waiting then.” Mc nodded at him, and then walked off with Mammon.

“Wh… What just happened?” Levi nearly squealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hear Mammon got to talk to Mc before you did.”

“Shut up Lucifer,” Satan muttered.

“Where are they?” Lucifer asked, and Satan pointed to a bench where Mc and Mammon were sitting. They seemed deep in a conversation.

“Interesting. I had to see it to believe it.”

“What’ve you been doing this whole time?”

“I’ve been… walking around…”

“Hiding from Michael.”

“That would imply I’m scared of him.”

“MmmmHmmm.”

“I do not fear Michael.”

“Good to hear, since he’s coming this way.”

Lucifer instantly started walking forward, stopping by some random succubus, “Hello, Jezebel. Would you like to dance?” Lucifer asked, barely waiting for a response before dragging her out onto the dance floor.

Satan was still chuckling, Lucifer’s discomfort making his misfortune seem better, when a male voice he remembered from memory but had never actually heard addressed him, “Are you Satan, Lucifer’s… son?”

Satan blinked a couple times, “Excuse me?”

“That is you right? Or do you prefer something different? Spawn of Lucifer?” Michael cocked his head a bit, seeming a little confused.

Some rational part of Satan’s brain was the only thing keeping him from jumping on the angel and ripping him to shreds. He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice as he responded, “I am Satan, THE Avatar of WRATH.”

“Oh, I seem to have hit a nerve. My apologies,” Michael said, actually bowing. Satan narrowed his eyes, tail flexing around his leg. Has he always been this stupid? Or is he mocking me?

“I was wondering if we could speak. Privately,” Michael said, his smile showing he knew he’d said something wrong.

“Anything you want to say you can say here, Michael.”

“I do think it would be better for us to speak privately,” Satan could feel Michael’s irritation building a bit.

“Why? So you can try to hurt my brother’s again by killing another of their siblings?”

The shock on Michael’s face satiated Satan’s anger enough that he almost laughed at it. Michael quickly put on a blank look, but Satan could hear the sorrow in his voice, “Though it is always unfortunate when an angel dies, I do not regret any of my actions. When someone goes against what they know to be right, there will always be consequences.”

“Of course. Always the errand boy, blindly doing whatever it is you’re told to do.”

“How would you know? You weren’t even around to know her. I’m not sure what lies you’ve been fed-”

“I was there, you imbecile,” Satan seethed, “I saw how your actions helped push Lucifer towards rebellion, knowingly or not, and how you stabbed him in the back once he was finally there. I remember them, and I find your actions to be deplorable.”

“Now listen here, you demon-”

“Oh, I’m the demon here?! Shall I describe, in detail, how you-”

“Everythin’ cool here?” Mammon came up next to Satan, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

Satan whipped his head to look at Mammon, confirming that, yes, Mammon had heard what Michael had said.

“Ah, Mammon. It’s been awhile.”

Mammon looked over at Michael, his disgust thinly veiled, “Yeah, sure.”

“I would like to talk with your… brother, but he doesn’t seem to want to.”

“Good fer him. Tah be honest with ya’, I don’ trust ya’ Michael. I didn’ up in the Celestial Realm, and I don’ now. If ya’ wanna’ talk with Satan, I suggest ya’ do it where we can all see ya’.”

Satan felt two hands on his shoulders, and looked back to see both Beel and Belphie standing behind him. Neither one of them looked very happy, but Beel’s look was a lot more intense than Belphie’s.

Michael sighed, especially after seeing the twins, “If you’re not going to allow me to explain, I can only tell you this: It is imperative she not remember her past. It will hurt both of you more than you could ever know. Now, I have things to do, if you’ll excuse me,” and with that, he left.

“I really don’ like that guy,” Mammon shook his head, “Oh, Satan, hol’ on a sec. Imma be right back,” and with that, he took off.

“You okay Satan?” Beel asked, still frowning after Michael.

“Yeah, things just got a bit intense there for a second. Thanks.”

“I don’t think your thanks is going to stop here. We’re going to leave you now. Have fun,” Belphie smirked before wandering off with Beel.

Satan shook his head at all the weirdness happening around him, before resuming his place along the wall. He didn’t know how things had escalated that quickly with Michael, especially considering the guy had never done anything to him personally. Yeah, he had all the memories of Lucifer being angry at him, and he had hurt his brother’s, but he had never had any personal problems with him. Well, a lot of Lucifer’s anger started because of Michael, and that’s what I was born from… The small voice in the back of his head started acting up, though he often tried to keep it quiet, You’re more like Lucifer then you want to admit.

He growled a bit at the voice, before starting to wander around. People watching always helped calm him down. It was one of the things he had done in his early life to help him learn how to interact with others, at Asmo’s suggestion. He always found something new to store away in his brain, and the problem solving helped calm his brain.

“There ya’ are! We’ve been lookin’ for ya’.”

We? Satan turned to Mammon to see Mc standing next to him. Satan froze, having not prepared himself to talk to her.

“She asked me ta dance, but cha know I’m more of a solo dancer myself, so I was wondering if you would for me?”

“I… Uhhh… Yes, if she would like,” Satan finally managed to get out, watching Mc for any negative reactions.

“I have no problems with it,” Mc answered cryptically, nothing in her tone or mannerisms betraying how she actually felt about the suggested change.

“Uh… Perfect, I guess. Have fun you two,” Mammon announced before walking off.

I could both hug him and punch him, Satan thought, though what came out of his mouth was, “Well, may I have this dance?” while extending his hand to her.

A smile graced her lips, “You certain may.”

He led her out onto the dance floor, still lightly holding her hand. He was still nervous, but not like he was the last time they’d met. He let his mask start to slip when he faced her, “I’m very glad you accepted my invitation to dance,” he slipped his hand to its proper place for the waltz as the music started.

“It’s my pleasure,” She smiled, though not as warmly as he would’ve hoped. They started dancing effortlessly, Satan extremely happy they were still in sync. If only the conversation flowed as easily. Satan spent the first full minute of the dance just trying to figure out what to say to her, also trying not to think about how beautiful she looked.

Finally, he figured out something neutral to say, “Have you been enjoying the Devildom?”

“Yes, I have, thank you for asking.”

“What’s been your favorite part?”

Mc took a minute to think, “I would have to say… Sightseeing. There’s a lot here I could have never imagined existing in the Celestial Realm.”

“Ah. Have you visited the Royal Library yet?”

“I have actually. I’ve been researching for my next art project.”

“You’re working on a new art project?”

“Yes. I feel rather inspired here.”

“I look forward to seeing it. Are you planning on showing it in the Devildom?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Good. We need new art down here,” Satan said before the conversation lapsed back into silence. It was towards the end of the song that Satan decided to bring up the elephant in the room, “I’ve ummm… Been hoping I would see you again.”

“As have I.”

“You have?” he asked, extremely surprised.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to figure out why you acted the way you did.”

Oh.

“I apologize for that. I… Well, I actually wrote you a letter to explain it. I know my behavior was… off to say the least. I’ve been going through a lot lately, and I apologize that it negatively affected my behavior towards you.”

“You wrote me a letter?”

“Yes. I find I can express myself far better and with far more accuracy by writing than by talking.”

“Ah. Do… Do you have that letter with you?” Her voice was small when she asked.

“I do. I was planning to give it to you tonight anyways.”

“You were?”

“Oh, I said that out loud didn’t I?” Mc giggled at that and Satan felt better, the mask slipping even more, “I’ve been trying to find a good time to give it to you all night actually.”

“Really?” Her smile was curious and a bit teasing.

“Er, yeah. I hope you’re okay with that.”

“I think that’s alright,” Mc smiled, finally seeming at ease around him.

The song ended then, and Satan reached into his back pocket to produce the letter, “Here it is.”

“I’ll make sure to read it,” Mc promised, reaching for the letter. Their fingers brushed when she went to grab it, and they both blushed at the contact, “Well, I’m going to go find Luke. Thank you for the dance.”

“No, thank you,” Satan said sincerely, smiling softly.

She smiled back, and with that she was gone.

“Heh. You owe me don’ cha’,” Mammon’s voice came from behind him, sounding pretty smug.

“I’d say you’ve made up for not telling me she was in town.”

“I’ll take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey you guys, a couple more things:

First off, I have passed the 100 follower mark, and I was wondering if you guys wanted me to do anything for it.

Second: I was wondering how you guys ran across this fic. If you wanna comment down below and just let me know. I’m really wondering how my work’s being spread, so if you could do that, I’d appreciate it!

~As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated (I always read everything you guys write in the comments and reblogs)

Part Eleven

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