#luckily for my lazy ass I just drew my mans last week so this was easy to spit out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watevermelon · 4 years

Text

Aot!Haikyuu | MSBY Black Jackals x Reader (Atsumu Route)

✧ Summary: (Attack on Titan x Haikyuu) In an effort to unlock the secrets behind Titans, you got injured during one of Tendou’s Scout Regiment experiments. This was nothing new, but even you were surprised at how much those boys cared about you. ➳ Warnings: Language and Attack on Titan Canon Violence ➳ Tags: Reader x MSBY Black Jackals; Slight Reader x Schweiden Adlers; Takes place before the Fall of Trost; ➳ Masterlist

Pick your route!

Introduction | Sakusa Kiyoomi | Hinata Shoyou | Bokuto Koutarou

✧ Atsumu Miya Route:

Sakusa and the rest of your squad-mates had visited you throughout your entire first week in the medic tent. Thankfully, you were told that you would be able to recover, luckily nothing was long-term damage, neither punctured nor permanently broken in your Titan encounter. Tendou told you that the weeks of physical therapy wouldn’t be easy, but you’d be back on the field within the year if you really tried.

Sakusa cursed you to your face for even thinking about it while the two sunshine's on your team told you not to rush your health.

You were worried most about what Atsumu would say.

He was always quick smiles and smirks - tended to tease and keep things light-hearted in order not to lose his sanity during the war. He flirted and had plenty of women over his shoulder, very easy to cause others to swoon over his handsome appearance. But that was all to drown out his worries, these shallow relationships filled the void from the death of his comrades.

No matter how hard you tried to reach Atsumu’s heart, it just would not budge. Not when you first joined the team and even now years later. There were small cracks here and there. Genuine smiles that he would indulge you in when your squad was in their off-hours. But otherwise, he kept people at an arm’s length.

You knew that this was Atsumu’s second team in the Scout Regiment, originally an officer under the infamous Squad Leader Kita. There were lots of rumors around his earlier life, how he and his brother were one of the best duo’s in the entire regiment. Along with Kita, they were all childhood friends, entering the training corps together and later the scouts as a trio. There were lots of stories around that squad and how they courageously acted during expeditions.

Such as when Kita boldly laid down his life at the Fall of Shiganshina, detonating a large bomb for dozens of Garrison troops to get away.

He saved over two-hundred soldiers from the clutches of abnormal Titans, suddenly let in by both the armored and colossal Titan. The stories were second and even third-hand by now, but it was all generally the same. Soldiers scrambling with their unknown enemy, paralyzed with the fear that their lives were about to end then and there.

Both civilians and soldiers alike had minimal chances of surviving that day.

Shinsuke Kita was a bold soldier through and through.

But all of that occurred before you even joined the scouts. You knew of the current effects on your teammate, now. Atsumu had closed himself off while his brother left the military entirely, opening an onigiri shop within Wall Sina. You could not blame him, your lifestyle must have been a constant reminder for what Osamu had lost. But for Atsumu to continue in the Scouts, you wondered how he had the mental fortitude to continue when his childhood best friend was taken from him.

And so it was no surprise that Atsumu hadn’t visited you your entire first week in the hospital, keeping you at a distance since he had almost lost you as well. But after another week passed you wondered if you did something else to annoy the two-toned man.

Him and Sakusa did not hold back their scalding words the first day you woke-up. And even during the mission, Atsumu had quick curses each time something unexpected happened. So why was he avoiding you now if he was there the first day? Was he trying to reinstate the distance in your friendship? You were disappointed, but by no means surprised.

However, one night three weeks into your hospital stay, as they lowered the doses of painkillers circulating in your system, you woke up to see a figure sitting silently beside you.

You called out to the familiar shadow, “Atsumu?”

It was quiet for a good minute, before he answered. “Ah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting’.”

“Do you usually visit when I’m asleep?”

“.... Ah.”

So Atsumu visited you when he knew you would not be conscious.

You felt your annoyance flare.

“You’re such a coward.” You bit out.

He stood at your words, his own anger rolling off his tongue. “Ya want to say that again?”

“Yes, I do!” You tried to sit-up, but felt pain shoot through your lower half. Out of relex, his arms shot out toward you to steady you, but you swatted them away and continued, “You can’t face me when I’m awake so you’d rather watch a silent corpse.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Atsumu bit out, the stoic expression on his face enough to make you recoil in surprise.

You snapped yourself back, “And why not?! There’s obviously something else you have to say if you’re being such a dick about this.”

“You are so fucking unbelievable.” Atsumu muttered as he carded a hand through his blond hair, “I can’t believe I almost lost ya and you’re sitting here acting like life is just gonna move on.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. It isn’t.” Atsumu stated clearly, “You’ll get out of this bed, one day, and you will never be able to fight the same again. Your leg is fucked, ya know that right?”

“Tendou said I’ll be able to walk again.”

“And that should mean everything will go back to normal, right?” Atsumu stood straight, his height twice your own as you sat in the raised cot. “You tryin’ to tell me that the next time ya see a Titan, you won’t be worried it’ll steal ya like a personal doll again? Or better yet, that you won’t rely on your right leg now that your other side has been shot to shit?”

“I - it’ll take time.” You stuttered, not liking how his words struck a bitter chord.

It took years of training in the cadet corps for anyone to get adept to balancing themselves on the 3DMG. It took even more actual live experience to get used to fighting while doing so. And here you were with a new handicap, years into the battle with all your own personal idiocincinrecies. It would be harder, but you had pushed off that factoid to the recess of your mind, more focused on your current recovery.

“No, ya weren’t thinking at all.” Atsumu stated.

But you didn’t need this asshole pointing out your new weakness.

“What’s your problem?” You asked back sharply.

“My problem? My problem is that I have such a selfish teammate that she doesn’t even care about the rest of her team!”

You turned your head in genuine confusion, “What?”

“I can’t fuckin’ stand ya sometimes!” He said instead, “Even if you can fight again, if it was up to me I’d never let your ass leave your office. I don’t give a fuck, I’ll ask Sakusa to switch ya to Tendou’s team if we have to.”

“What?!”

He leaned over your bedside and gripped your chin harshly. “You almost died. Do ya understand that? I was the last person to see ya before you disappeared into the trees.”

Now closer to his face, it was more than just his anger and annoyance that was reflecting back to you. It made you physically recoil, surprised at seeing the usually distant Atsumu shout his worries about you.

“You were willing to give everythin’ up for some stupid shit-show about a single Titan!” His pressure behind his hold increased, almost bruising the skin there.

“I.. I’m sorry.” You felt yourself apologize more than realized. This was more than just another argument, from the brutal shake of his shoulders and how Atsumu tucked his head into your shoulder. He was leaning into your body, not fully, but enough for you to feel the tenseness in his body.

Atsumu was worried about you.

It made you want to reach out to him. To curl your hands around his middle and comfort him that you were still here - still alive. And so you did - bringing a gentle touch up his back before it started to hurt from the strain. Instead, you folded your arms behind his neck, holding him for as long as Atsumu needed to assure himself that you were okay. And while it seemed redundant initially, you had to remind yourself that Atsumu had lots of demons that were still alive, but worse off because of it.

“Fuck.” You felt him murmur against the skin of your neck. “Please, I am begging ya. Do not pull that shit again.”

You trailed the hands “I’ll try not to.”

He leaned back to look at you directly in the eyes, “That’s not good enough.”

You felt a small smile crack your expression, “I promise I’ll try to stay safe.”

“Good enough for now.” Atsumu said as he frowned, before leaning forward. You felt the soft crease of his lips against your skin, lingering on your forehead before he trailed his nose down against yours.

“Atsumu?”

“Do ya understand now?” He asked, the two of you basically sharing the same breath at this point. Atsumu brought a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing as he went and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You hung onto every bit of his actions, from the way his eyes pierced your own to the way he drew lazy circles on your skin.

“I can’t lose you too.” Atsumu continued, breathing out harshly into your shared space. “I went through this shit before and it almost killed me. But if I lost you? Fuck, I can’t…”

You brought a hand up to cup his face, your heart leaping out at you to be there for him. He was more than just another Scout soldier, more than just your fellow squad-mate and now even more than just your friend.

“I won’t let it happen again.” You reassured him, moving to place soft pecks to his cheeks as he silently cried out his worries.

This was a side of Atsumu you never got to see before. His usually coarse words were more than just shallow-deep, expressing his genuine care over your person. And while you always crave a deep relationship with the older soldier, he always kept you at an arm's-length. At least now you knew why - because Atsumu was afraid to lose those close to him again.

“I love you, ya know that right?” Atsumu murmured.

“I know that now.” You teased, but he gently poked your forehead to bring you back to his serious statement.

“You’re so stupidly headstrong.” Atsumu started listing off as he placed pecks on the side of your head, “Joining our squad was like a breath of fresh air I didn’t know I needed. So smart and yet you value yourself so little.”

You just listened to his words, surprised that he was so keenly paying attention to you in the past when it seemed like Atsumu was so carefree.

“I’m not expecting ya to answer, by the way.” Atsumu continued, “I just need ya to know that before ya make any choices.”

You smiled at him, thankful for how uncharacteristically patient he was being with you. Instead, you scooted over in the hospital bed and patted down in the empty space.

“Keep me company tonight?”

He gave you a genuine smile, pulling off to take off his jacket and throw it over his shoulder to the chair. Atsumu laid on the side, trying to take up as minimal space as possible as he threw an arm across to rest your head on.

“I’ll never leave you alone again.”

You pulled his face toward you, trying to seal a kiss but struggling as you both kept grinning. His arms trailed up and around your body, pulling you close to feel every plain of skin against his own. You relished in the love Atsumu could give you, grateful for how much of his heart he was willing to give you after having been hurt so many times.

You would treat his heart warmly and give him so much love in kind.

Introduction | Sakusa Kiyoomi | Hinata Shoyou | Bokuto Koutarou

234 notes · View notes

nad-zeta · 4 years

Note

Hiii! I’d like to request a matchup please :) I like to write, play games, listen to music, make people laugh, baking, be lazy, read, be alone sometimes, sleep late, and fail miserably at drawing. I like sweet things, spicy things, cats, and honesty. I dislike: people who lie or steal, when it’s hot outside, being outside in general, bitter things. For my personality, I’m really quiet when I first meet someone, but I get really talkative once we get to know each other. (1/2)

I’m book smart but I often lack common sense. I’m pretty naive. It’s easy to tell when I’m upset or disappointed. When nothing is upsetting me, I smile a lot and make a lot of jokes. Sometimes I like to bother people when I want attention. Staring and cheek poking will happen. (2/2)

Hi, there dear! thank you for the request and for being so patient with my slow ass writing skills. I hope you are doing well, and I hope you enjoy it!

So I Match you with………….. Ieyasu

Honestly, the first time Ieyasu sees you, he rolls his eyes at the thought of having another Mitsunari around. You are another sweet little angel. For the first few days, you were pretty quiet, and you kept to yourself. You were forced to attend the war councils on Nobunaga’s request. You always would go a little early, to ensure a nice seat and settle in. Most of the other warlords would also come slightly earlier to chat with fellow warlords before the council proceeded. You were sitting there one day minding your business, watching Hideyoshi drag Masamune to his seat early for once, when you let a small joke slip out from under your breath. Nothing goes unheard by the one-eyed dragon. He broke out, laughing at your small joke. He encouraged you to open up a bit more by often making an effort to come early to chat with you. You made friends among the Oda forces really quickly due to your sweet personality and funny ass jokes. Like you are hilarious. You even became quick friends with Nobunaga because of this. The three of you would often sit together joking about anything and everything. This makes Yasu even more annoyed cause now, not only did he have to care for another Mitsunari, but he also had to deal with the headache of having another Masamune around. Great. Although TBH Hideyoshi was super thankful for you, cause since you started cracking jokes and chatting with everyone before the council, no one is ever really late anymore.

One day while you were out in the market getting some suppliers for Nobunaga, you saw an old man handing out free candy. Who could pass up an opportunity on free candy! WHAT A BARGAIN! You slowly walked up to the man to kind of gauge what his deal was. “Seems legit,” you thought. You spoke to the man for a few minutes, and the next thing you know, you are knocked out. When you come to, you freak out a little cause both your wrists are tied behind your back, and all you can see is some younger men paying the old guy for his efforts.

You overheard them saying how they were going to charge Nobunaga a hefty price for your return. You were really starting to freak out now, cause you didn’t want to cause your new friends any trouble. And darn, you had the worst splitting headache. Honestly, at this point, you were fighting the urge to cry. Luckily for you, Ieyasu spotted you in the market while he was buying some veg for Wasabi. He saw you walk up to the man with the free candy and thought, “silly girl, if you get kidnaped, I’m not going to save you. Serves you right for coming from the same cabbage patch as Mitsunari” He watched you from the corner of his eyes chatting with the old man. He rolled his eyes “naïve as ever,” he thought. Before he knew it, you had disappeared. It happened so quick. He felt a cold shiver move through his spine. He ran to where he last saw you and overheard the young men’s conversation about ransoming you to Nobunaga. These guys made him sick, using the weak and innocent for their own gain. He drew his sword and, without a second thought, cut them down. He tied them up for Mitsuhide to find later. He walked into the backroom to find you tied up with a few tears streaming down your face. The second he cut you free, you were so relieved that you threw your arms around him and cried in his shoulder. He honestly didn’t know how to comfort you. “serves you right for being so naïve, didn’t you mom ever teach you never to take candy from strangers,” he said that in the gentlest sweet voice. He walked you back while gently holding your hand. He also made you some tea for your headache and treated the bump on your head.

Its been a few days since the whole incident, and you decided you wanted to thank Ieyasu for saving and treating you. You knew he, like you, loved spicy foods, so you decided to make him some spice sweet buns. Chili flavored sweet buns. You spent the whole morning making them, even low key, impressing Masamune with your crazy excellent baking skills. Once you were happy with the results, you took the little package of sweet buns with you to Ieyasu’s manor. He greeted you in this contradictory way of his, which you took as a sign to come in and make yourself at home. You gave him the sweet buns and conveyed your thanks. He just sighed and offered to make some tea, so the two of you could share the sweet bun, you know, so he could make sure you didn’t poison them. The two of you sat for a few hours chatting and munching down on the sweet yet spicing buns. Your face lit up into the brightest smile when you saw the slight slither of a smile on Yasu’s lips when he tasted your creation. It made you even happier when you found out the prickly porcupine actually has a sense of humor. His laugh was so freaken cute. He was someone who laughed with their whole body. Shoulders shaking and arms clutching his stomach from the pain of laughing too much. The laugh itself was like more of a tiny chuckle barely audible.

Since that day, you decided to pester Ieyasu more often. Not that Yasu minded he had come to actually really enjoy your company. You never realized just how sweet and soft this boi was until you found an injured grey little kitten in the garden one day. You picked up the poor creature and ran all the way to Ieyasu manor, cause you knew he enjoyed studying medicine in his free time and would be able to help the cat. He gave the cat one look and refused to treat it. You were shook, “what do you mean no, you refuse.” He looked at you, then the cat and then back at you, rolled his eyes and gestured for you to come in “just so you know, if you tell Mitsunari about this I’m going to add you to my list.” He tended to the cat with the utmost care and gentleness. He spoke softly and sweetly to Kitty to help soothe the anxiety and fear. You could tell kitty knew Ieyasu well, and Yasu low key let it slip that he would feed kitty sometimes cause Mitsunari would forget. The two of you spent weeks nursing the little kitten back to health. You found spending time with Ieyasu to be refreshing. You loved his blunt honesty. Even if it’s often delivered in a contradictive way.

You love going out to teahouses with him. You love just sitting and chatting with him for hours. Although you have discovered that no one can match his pallet for spicy foods, not even you. One day you also burnt off your taste buds from accidentally swopping the bento’s masa had made for the two of you. You took one bite, and the next thing you knew, your mouth was on fire. It didn’t help that Yasu was sitting there watching you with shaking shoulders laughing at your misfortune. You had to chug down 2 liters of milk before the burning sensation left your mouth. All the while, Ieyasu was laughing at you. You decided you had enough, and you were going to get payback, so you decided that was the perfect moment for you to confess your feelings and kiss him to shut him up. When you pulled away, it was now your turn to laugh at his blood-red face. And so, your relationship with the cutie started

Ieyasu really loved you so so much! He loved how talkative you are, even though he would rather die than admit it. He could honestly sit for hours and hours just listening to you talk about anything and everything. He loved the soothing calm tones of your voice. He loves how lazy you are. Especially when you lay your head on his lap while he is working. You would just lay there reading your book. He will occasionally drop a small little butterfly kiss on your cheek, all while being super red. He also really enjoyed receiving little drawings from you whenever he would go out to war. He especially loved the little lopsided Wasabi you drew for him the one day. He low key tucked it away in his breast pocket under his armor so you would be close to his heart even during the battle. It was like his own little lucky charm

OOOh, and you definitely bother this porcupine boy all the freaken time for attention. He will be sitting writing up an important doc, and you will just continually poke his cheek, he would look up at you, and narrow his eyes “what,” keeps poking, “Stop that,” still continue poking “if you don’t stop I’m not liable for the consequences.” Looks at him directly in the eyes with the most teasing smile and pokes him one more time. He literally reached over, grabbed one of his softest pillows, and gently hit you with it. Challenge accepted. The two of you spent the next hour engaged in a full-blown pillow fight. Afterward, you both collapsed on the futon giggling and breathless, he simply wrapped you in his arms and gave you the sweetest little kiss followed by a kiss on the top of your head “are you happy now,” you gave him your biggest brightest smile “yes very.”

The two of you can often be found chilling in the shade of a tree (cause you don’t like the heat). Sharing a yummo picnic that Ieyasu attempted to make for the two of you. All while watching wasabi playing in the garden. You would rest your head on Ieyasu’s lap while he gently plays with your hair. Both of you would then proceed to cloud watch and point out all the weird shapes and figures that you could see!

Other potential matches...................... Masamune

Thanx so much for the ask, love! Soz, for making you wait so long! Hope ya enjoyed it

#ikemen ieyasu #ieyasu tokugawa #ikesen ieyasu #ikemen sengoku matchup #ikesen matchup #matchups #match ups #ieyasu matchup

17 notes · View notes

jovialyouthmusic · 5 years

Text

Silver Service

A Royal Romance AU fanfic sequel to Protect and Serve

Bastien tells Sophia of the imminent arrival of a former lover

Word Count 3574

A/N I’m struggling a little with this fic right now - I have plans but I will probably be posting less often - probably twice a week at most NS*W no under 18s

5 Memories of another life

Bastien snapped out of his reverie, having remembered the first time he had met Damien Nazario, when he had worked for NYPD and Bastien had been chasing Prince Leo, long before he abdicated. The last time he had seen Damien, when he had been in the city for Liam’s bachelor party, he had hinted that he had moved on from the Police department, but kept his secrets, as Bastien did with his. His call to Damien had gone straight to voicemail, so he reinforced the urgency of his message by contacting Interpol and telling them he needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

He didn’t have long to wait, as his phone rang and Damien’s number came up.

‘Bas – where are you? I’m not in New York right now. How did you find out about my new job?’

‘I needed Interpol’s services and your name came up, so naturally I contacted you direct. I trust I didn’t interrupt anything important’

‘Luckily not. What do you need Interpol for?’

‘I’m interested in tracing someone who’s fled the country’ He heard Damien chuckle

‘I’m going to have to press you, Lykel. You never told me where you’re based – or who you work for.’

‘Tell me where you are and I’ll send transport for you. Interpol have cleared you from your present job. I can explain when we meet’ There was a short silence before he answered.

‘You must really pull some weight if you can get Interpol to get you to the top of my task list. I’m in Poland.’ Bastien tapped away on his desktop computer.

‘Tell me your nearest airport and make your way there, there will be a jet waiting for you in three hours’

‘Woah Bas, It will take me an hour just to get my stuff’

‘Soon as you can. Just go there and give your name to airport security and you’ll be pointed in the right direction’

‘Just give me a clue Lykel’

‘The flight takes two and a half to three hours. You’ll be going south.’ He rang off to call up the Royal Jet.

------

Later, as he sat eating dinner with Sophia in their quarters, he reached across the table to her.

‘Theá mou, there’s something I need to tell you’ Sophia raised her eyebrows as she put her knife and fork down, after finishing the main course. He followed suit, fixing her gaze solemnly.

‘It sounds like something important, agápe mou’ she answered, delicately wiping her lips with her napkin. He nodded

‘Come and join me on the sofa and I’ll tell you’ he replied. He went to sit on the couch and patted the seat beside him, putting his arm around her and drawing her into him, their contours matching as they always did, no matter what position they chose. He drew a deep breath ‘I had to call in someone from Interpol to help trace Justin. It turns out it’s a friend of mine – a lover…’

------

Damien climbed the stairs to his apartment in an attempt to make up for the weeks of being too busy – or too lazy – to go to the gym. The moment he got to his landing, his senses were on alert. There was something not quite right, and he paused before he opened the door into the lobby, head cocked, listening. Smelling. Oddly his acute sense of smell had gotten him out of – or rather, he had not gotten into – some dangerous situations.

But there was no scent, even though his hearing had caught a slight sound – breath, the scuff of a leather shoe on the cheap carpet?

He shook his head. He was tired, he was off his game, seeing things in the shadows that weren’t there. Something niggled at the back of his mind as he walked to his door and got his keys out. He remembered what it was a split second before someone swiftly and stealthily stepped out of the shadows and grabbed him around the neck. Instead of grabbing at his thumb to pry his arm off his neck, or stamping on his foot or pitching forward to throw his assailant, he went slack.

‘Lykel’ he said ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He heard the bass rumble of Bastien’s laugh

‘You’re getting lazy, Nazario. You knew something was up and you still left yourself open’ He let go and Damien kept his back to him for a moment, hiding the stupid relieved grin spreading across his face.

‘Yeah well, I was tired and I’d still have beat anyone else’s ass. How you manage to not smell of anything is beyond me’ He turned and gripped his forearm and slapped his elbow.

‘Trade secret’ the older man said, a bare trace of a smile at the corners of his mouth. ‘If I told you I’d have to kill you’

‘Well you can keep your damn secret if that’s the option’ he grumbled. He let go of his arm and stood looking at him dumbly

‘Well are you going to let me in, or are we going to stand here all night?’

‘Uh sorry, must be more tired than I thought’ he said as he opened the door and led him in. He was dressed smartly as usual while he himself was shabby and down at heel. He’d not had the money to refresh his wardrobe in a while. Bastien unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the peg by the door.

‘Not too tired to catch up I hope’ he smiled.

‘What brings you here?’ he asked, changing the subject ‘Pampered clients needing a babysitter?’

‘You could say that’ he replied ‘It’s a bachelor party of sorts, and I need to keep them out of trouble. I have a free evening as I’ve done all the preparation and they aren’t arriving until tomorrow’

‘So you thought you’d spend a few idle hours with me’ he smiled. Bastien’s expression softened a little.

‘Indeed. You’re not busy I hope?’

‘Not at all. I hope you get well paid for this’ he said ‘You can’t have much personal time’

‘I don’t, so let’s not waste it. Have you eaten?’ Damien shook his head ‘I was going to order pizza’ Bastien laughed and reached out to pat his soft stomach.

‘You need to look after yourself, eat properly, get some exercise. Do you actually go to the gym any more?’

‘Okay you order then’ he said, rolling his eyes ‘I know you’re going to boss me around anyway so why not start there?’ Bastien gave him a smouldering look and took his hand, pulling up his shirt and placing Damien’s hand on his washboard flat stomach. He sucked his breath in in admiration. He already knew what good care the older man took of himself, but he was in the best shape he had ever seen him.

‘Jesus, Bas you must live in the gym’

‘I never set foot in one. I train karate, go for a run every other morning, go swimming. Treadmills bore me to tears, they’re for fitness tests, not exercise.’ He pulled away and wandered into the tiny kitchenette. The whole flat would fit comfortably in his office suite at the Palace. He looked in the fridge. ‘I see you’ve not been grocery shopping either. Do you live off takeaways?’

‘Stop lecturing me, Lykel. I see you what – twice a year if I’m lucky?’ Bastien scanned the kitchen for signs of cohabitation, finding none. Damien was bridling at the intrusion despite being glad to see him. Bastien turned back to him, concern on his face.

‘If you don’t have anyone else in your life you need to look after yourself – and if you don’t look after yourself you’re not going to find anyone who wants to share your life.’

‘If you were with anyone else you’d not be visiting me, and my love life is none of your business’ Damien pointed out testily

‘But the equation balances out for me – I look after myself’

‘Whatever. Are we just going to argue semantics?’ Bastien pulled his hand over his face and sighed heavily.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue’

‘So why did you come?’ He asked defensively. Bastien winced.

‘You know how infrequently I’m here. I just wanted to see you, spend some time together’

‘Well here I am’ Damien replied. A silence descended on the two men, and Bastien broke it.

‘Well, if you’re hungry, why don’t we go out to eat? I’ll pay’ Damien thought for a moment

‘How about if I guess what sort of food you like, you pay – and if I get it wrong, I pay?’ he proposed.

‘Okay, let’s see how good your detective skills are, Nazario’ he replied

‘Well, you’re European though you’ve never told me exactly where you’re from… I’d say northern Mediterranean.’ He tapped his chin thoughtfully ‘So you’d go for – Greek, or Italian, I’m guessing’

‘You have to pick one, Mr Nazario’ he said drily ‘No cheating’

‘It’s a tough one. I pick Greek’

‘You had a fifty fifty chance – and you’re wrong, but I eat a lot of Italian food so Greek will make a nice change’ Damien shook his head in mock defeat.

‘It just so happens I know a nice little Greek restaurant not far away that owes me a favour or two, so we might just eat for free’

‘As long as it’s got its hygiene certificates’

‘Papa Megalos runs a tight ship’ Damien replied ‘I helped him out with some gangsters who were demanding protection money so we’re firm friends’

‘Okay, sounds good’ Damien nodded and picked up his keys and jacket.

------

Papa Megalos was pleased to see the New York detective and welcomed the two men in to the small restaurant, cozy and warm with red checked tablecloths, the walls and ceiling decorated with plastic grapevines, Greek music playing softly in the background. A flicker of a smile crossed Bastien’s face as if he felt at home.

‘Nazario! You honour me, come, sit – best table in the house’ Papa Megalos cried. Damien smiled.

‘You said the same last time – it was a different table’ he scolded

‘And tonight is a different night’ he shrugged ‘Who’s your friend here?’ he lifted his chin toward the other man.

‘Just a friend in the business – Papa Megalos, this is Bastien Lykel’ The rotund proprietor extended a plump hand and slapped palms with him before giving him a firm two handed handshake. Damien knew only too well how firm that was, but Bastien obviously gave as good as he got. He greeted Papa in fluent Greek, leaving Damien blinking in surprise. Papa Megalos was delighted and they held a rapid fire conversation for a minute or so, gesticulating and laughing before Bastien sat and Damien followed suit.

‘No paying tonight, and you get the house special’ Papa beamed, resting his meaty hand on Damien’s shoulder ‘I’ll get you a bottle of retsina’ Damien looked at his companion quizzically.

‘Well that’s a revelation’ he mused ‘Were you talking about me?’

‘I speak several languages fluently, Nazario. I only asked him not to reveal my country of origin – he recognised my dialect the moment I opened my mouth and we exchanged home villages’ A waiter brought a plate of mezze and olives and the two men sat and ate, sipping the aromatic retsina. After that, two plates of Pastitsio and Greek salad arrived. Bastien smiled and spoke in rapid Greek again. Damien frowned at him.

‘Next time we’re going to a tapas bar’ he grumbled ‘At least I’ll know what you’re talking about’

‘I’m sorry, I was just praising the cook and saying it’s one of my favourite dishes’ They ate in companionable silence, and when time came for dessert, Bastien leaned back and patted his stomach.

‘I’m good, but you can indulge if you like’

‘Are you the type to steal a taste?’ Damien asked sceptically. All the times they had spent together they had met at a bar and drunk until they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, like their first time. They had never eaten out, so he wasn’t sure.

‘No’ laughed Bastien ‘I eat what’s on my plate, I don’t steal’

‘How about others taking a taste from yours?’

‘I’ll share in that instance, as long as it’s not the last bite’ Damien thought for a moment.

‘I think I’ll pass, it’s too late to be overeating’

‘Good man. I recommend a glass of ouzo to settle the digestion’

‘You don’t want to go for a drink?’ Bastien made a face

‘I’d rather call it a night. Why don’t you come back to my hotel?’ he spread his hands out in a placatory gesture ‘No expectations, no presumptions, just see where the night takes us’

He looked at him intently, realising he had been avoiding his gaze for a while, not wanting to get drawn in. He recognised something in his expression that chimed with him – something they had in common due to their profession.

He was lonely. He simply wanted company, and what did it matter if they ended up in bed? Would it be so bad? Lykel must have a certain camaraderie with his men – he didn’t know the exact nature of his job but he was obviously in charge of a team. But being boss meant having to keep a certain distance. They had a lot in common although Damien wasn’t in charge of anyone else – he sometimes worked with a partner, sometimes alone, and he answered to his captain. He knew the other man had a high sex drive that he kept in check with his demanding profession. He sighed

‘Okay why not?’ Bastien smiled gratefully

‘Excellent. Should I call a cab or…’

‘This is New York, Lykel, all you have to do is step out and raise your hand’ Damien replied sardonically. They made their excuses to Papa Megalos, who insisted on giving them a box of baklava to take with them and made Bastien promise to return any time he was in New York. Damien rolled his eyes as they spoke rapidly in Greek and embraced before leaving.

The air outside was fresh and Damien was glad not to be making his way to a bar to befuddle his brain with alcohol. In seconds they were in a yellow cab and he grew wide eyed at their destination as they arrived on Fifth Avenue at the luxury Peninsula Hotel. He was speechless as the taxi swept past the front and around to the service entrance.

‘I’m sorry we can’t go in the front’ Bastien said ‘This is a covert operation after all’ he winked.

‘Covert operation?’ Damien asked ‘Are you sure you’re booked in and paid up? Am I going to be washing dishes for a month to pay it off?’ Bastien chuckled

‘Perks of the job’ he said ‘Part grateful clients, part diplomatic privilege. We get so many free reservations per year’

‘Exactly who do you work for?’ Damien asked. The older man had never offered the information and he had never asked.

‘Sorry that’s classified’ he replied ‘And if you try to find out – well, let’s say you won’t’ Damien swallowed

‘You mean my body will be found under Manhatten Bridge…’ Bastien interrupted and shook his head as they got out of the taxi and made their way to the service elevator.

‘Nothing as dramatic as that, you just won’t get anywhere if I’ve done my job properly’

‘Well that’s a relief’ They stood in silence as they made their way up, until they got out high up in the building. Bastien lead him to the stairwell and they went up another two floors.

‘Just in case’ he said, touching the side of his nose. The room they made for was only a door away from the stairwell, and Bastien produced a keycard from his jacket pocket ‘My employer’s suite is next to this, there’s a connecting door in case of emergencies, so we can take a look if you like’

The two men went into the main suite and Damien marvelled at the luxury. The huge bed was round and had a spectacular view of the city, Central Park spread out below them. The carpet was deep and pale, the en suite bathroom boasting both a sunken jacuzzi and a huge walk in shower. There was a third room that served as lounge and bar.

‘Jesus Bas’ Damien gasped ‘I know you’re not going to tell me who your employer is, but he – or she – must be loaded’ Bastien smiled and got a bottle of bourbon and two tumblers from the bar.

‘Well’ said Bastien ‘Sadly I don’t get to stay in this part – come through to my modest little cell’

The other room was bigger than Damien’s bedroom. It sported a couch and two easy chairs, and over by the window there was a desk and study chair and there was a small en suite bathroom. The couch converted into a double bed to make it a more versatile space. It had been made up as such and Bastien’s overnight bag had already been unpacked. The two men settled into the easy chairs and Bastien poured them each a finger of bourbon. They talked easily for a while.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Damien asked, and his companion nodded

‘I’ll try to answer as long as it’s not too revealing’ Damien chewed his cheek before he spoke

‘Okay, all these times we’ve been together, you’ve never mentioned any other relationships, but I can’t see you being celibate between visits. Is there anyone special for you?’ Bastien let out his breath.

‘I’ve never really had a long term committed relationship, it doesn’t fit with the job. I have a few relationships like ours, both male and female – that I pick up while travelling. I’ve had affairs at home, but never for very long.’ He paused, about to say something else, but didn’t.

‘Okay, I get that. I’ve had a couple of relationships that I thought might last, but it’s tough when you work like we do. Do you want anything else - anything more permanent?’ Bastien chewed his lip for a moment.

‘Honestly – I’ve never seen myself as the type to settle down, I expected my job to be my life – and quite possibly my death. I saw one of my predecessors shot in front of my eyes and I know how high risk my occupation is. I don’t want a lover or partner living in fear of my demise, I couldn’t ask that of anyone’ Damien nodded and got up to walk over to the window

‘I know what you mean. Sometimes you’re one split second away from a decision that could end or save someone’s life – or your own. That’s not easy to live with.’ Bastien stood to join him by the window, putting his glass down.

‘All the more reason to live for the moment’ he said, pressing him back against the cold glass of the window and sliding the flat of his hand over his belly to the buckle of his belt.

------

Sophia looked up at Bastien

‘So Damien is coming here – to work with you on tracing Justin. Where do you stand with him? Does it affect us – our relationship?’ He smiled and kissed the top of her head

‘I just wanted to be honest with you’ he said ‘The last time I saw him I had only just met you. I can assure you that you are all I want, and I’ll tell him so when he arrives. What I had with him was just casual, a way to pass the time when I was in New York – though it wasn’t as cold as that might sound. We got on well and I hope the non sexual side of our relationship can continue - but of course that’s up to you.’ Sophia sat and thought for a while, resting her head on his chest and taking his hand in hers, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over the back of his hand.

‘I’ll have to meet him before I decide’ she said ‘I’d say any friend of yours has to be a friend of mine- but if you were lovers it changes things a little. We could have him over for dinner’

‘I suggest we go somewhere neutral’ Bastien said ‘somewhere each of us can retreat if we need to, without it being awkward’ Sophia nodded

‘Will he be staying in the Manor?’

‘I thought that best, I may need to call on him at short notice and it will be easier for him to work on site’ He tightened his arm around her shoulders. ‘If you’re uncomfortable I’m sure he’d understand’

‘Hmm, I don’t know yet. Does he know about me?’

‘No, but then he doesn’t know where I come from or who I work for’

‘Wow’ she said ‘That’s some secret to keep’

‘I never asked about specifics and he never asked me. We shared stories but kept the details vague’

‘How do you think he will react when he finds out you work for royalty?’

‘He may not be entirely surprised, I really don’t know’

‘When does he arrive?’

‘Tomorrow, early if they allow the Royal Jet to fly overnight’ Sophia slipped her hand under his shirt to find the bare flesh of his toned abdomen.

‘Then we’d better make the most of our time alone’ she murmured, and he smiled, feeling himself harden.

Next chapter 6 Meeting Up

#protect and serve #silver service #bastien lykel #trr bastien #sophia x bastien #OC x Bastien #the royal romance au #royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic

29 notes · View notes

preciousrichard-blog · 7 years

Text

Second Thoughts, Second Chances (Sniper/Spy)

Chapter 5: Blue Ink

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9419246/chapters/22002980

Rating: Teen+

Chapter Summary: Sniper isn’t the best at close combat, but he’s even worse when he has to fight himself all day. Luckily someone who understands is watching over him.

When he woke up it was dawn, but somehow, Sniper was having an incredibly lazy and comfortable morning that day. Instead of getting up ahead of everyone else and heading to the point before anyone would speak to him as usual, he curled up into the warm nest of his covers. He drew his legs up and sighed into his pillow, nearly clinging to it as he indulged in the heat that had built up under the blankets. When the last of his dreamy thoughts faded away and his eyes finally stayed open, he turned and admired the bright sunlight filtering through the window from a crystalline blue sky. The color of the cloudless expanse reminded him of Spy's piercing stare, and with it came the slow recollection of the night before that soaked into his bones and made his whole body feel weak. He touched his mouth gently, the way Spy's kisses had been, and his heart sputtered. He wondered why he felt so strangely happy, but told himself not to question it too much. Really he knew the reasons, but confound it he was just too embarrassed to admit it. He sat up, working the phrase consider becoming mine on his tongue for a short while, but rubbing at his eyes and face when no clear answers came out of it for him. He shook off the thoughts along with his covers then slipped out of bed and into his work clothing.

The base was still quiet this early, as most of the others slept in. He was grateful to be an early riser as he passed into the bathroom and began his usual routine. As he finished brushing his teeth he lifted his grayish blue eyes to his own reflection in the slightly dirty mirror. He looked at himself hard, furrowing his brow when he got closer. Spy had called him handsome last night, to which Sniper stuttered lamely in response. He was skilled without a doubt and self-reliant to his core, but handsome was the only adjective he simply couldn't wrap his head around. He squinted at himself, and traced the lines on his face with his fingers. He frowned when he pulled at the deep creases beside his mouth, noticing for once how old they made him look. Laughter lines my arse, he winced, suddenly regretting ever taking up smoking and spending too much time in the outback sun. He raised his eyebrows and spotted more slight creases across his forehead when he did, then dropped his head in a form of defeat. I'm still in my thirties and I look like a bloody geezer, he grumbled to himself before taking one last look at the mirror. What does he see in me? He thought, with a nagging question of whether he’d been lied to. He flipped open the handles of his reflective yellow aviators and slipped them onto the bridge of his nose. He felt better seeing part of his face hidden behind them, and made to open the bathroom door. He paused and considered shaving in case he saw Spy that day- then shook his head, huffing as he walked toward the mess hall.

Halfway through his eggs on toast, he lowered the newspaper he was idly reading to the sound of clicking heels. He let the paper fall to the tabletop in his hands while he took a sip of coffee from his mug. He knew who it was by the sound, and lo and behold the RED spy sauntered into the room. He didn't so much as look at the sniper as he crossed the Australian's vision, yet offered a curt "good morning" as he approached the cupboards.

"Mornin'..." Sniper said back warily, watching the man behind his sunglasses as he poured himself a cup of Sniper's coffee. "I thought you hated my stuff."

"Yes it's disgusting." The RED spy said flatly, ignoring Sniper's gaze, "But- I am in a rush."

"A rush? Where to...?" Sniper asked, surprised at himself for pressing at all. Perhaps it was that vague resemblance to the man who shared countless comfortable conversations with him that spurred it.

Spy gave him no glance, but looked at his watch, "That's none of your business." He bit back with cold and emotionless tone.

Sniper noted how quickly the man finished his coffee and set the cup in the sink, and figured he really must have had some important business to attend to. He lifted his newspaper back up and continued to eat, but his eyes were locked on the other in silent observance. He was the same height as the BLU, and they even had the same accent, but somehow his teammate seemed harsh and snobbish compared to his enemy counterpart. Sniper envisioned the RED spy in place of the BLU in his camper last night, and felt sickened as soon as he did. He felt nothing beyond professionalism toward his teammate that much was for sure.

"Before ya go-" Sniper spoke, "Soldier said I missed a briefin'. Mind fillin' us in?"

The spy straightened a bit and glanced around as if to think before finally looking at the Australian for the first time since he walked in. He was giving him a confused and rather judgmental stare as he spoke. "We had no briefing." He said, "I expected you of all people wouldn’t believe a word that infantile bafoon says."

Sniper grit his teeth. "Better safe than sorry's all." He said back, trying not to sound as angry as he now definitely was.

Watching the spy examine him for a moment then turn on his heel and leave, he pushed his plate aside and folded the newspaper. He resented that he'd been fooled into doing what was most likely Soldier's chore in the first place yesterday, and even considered "accidentally" shooting him between the eyes later as payback. But something else was bothering him, and he only got so far as to wonder how the RED spy could be such a cold bastard to him when the enemy spy was thoughtful and polite before an energetic young scout came romping in.

"Heya Snipes!" He chimed, never stopping his stride and jogging in place, "Ready to kick some sorry blue ass today?"

"I'll leave the kickin' to you kid." Sniper offered disinterestedly, a quiet thought flickering in the back of his mind that he'd probably have to kill BLU Spy at some point in the day.

"Heh yeah, I am pretty great at it." Scout continued, "I been workin' on my calves- man they are lookin' sweet-" he chattered, going into the details of his workout routine as Sniper stood to wash up. "-I bet'chu I could break one'a them boards in half like in the movies-"

Sniper offered an occasional thoughtful grunt in response to the talking he was only half listening to, and once he set his dishes on the rack to dry he grabbed the pot off the coffee machine and turned to leave.

"Oh that's right you always go out early- that's cool- I'll just finish the story later- hey nail that other scout in the head for me would ya?" Scout grinned with infuriating cockiness.

Sniper waved at him lazily as he walked down the hall. He didn't even realize the boy had been telling a story at all, and he certainly didn't intend to shoot any scouts in the head unless it was convenient. The little hooligans were too fast, a waste of good slugs, and frankly not often a priority. He opened his locker in the resupply room, and as he felt the cool metal of his weighty rifle in his hands, he wondered if he really felt invested in his job that morning. He was under contract to kill anything blue on the battlefield, and as long as he did that much then ideally nothing else was of much importance. He tensed with the physical effort of sorting his personal life away from his professional life, which he hadn't needed to do since he first signed up for the job. He’d killed the Spy just fine when they were having friendly chats and didn't feel bad about it. He wasn't about to start feeling bad now. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder he set the image in his mind of all the ways he'd watched spy die in front of him. He ignored the numbness creeping into his arms as he sheathed his kukri.

The first match began at 9 am sharp. The gates opened to the announcer's cutting voice and the red team poured out of the resupply and toward the central control point. Everyone seemed eager to get the upper hand with a first capture after the last stalemate. Sniper was less than thrilled in the cold however, and trailed behind the group, covered by the medic and heavy that brought up the rear. When he'd clambered away to his warm and dry nest at a comfortable distance, he set up shop. For the next hour, no one had held the point for more than 15 minutes at a time and the morning was beginning to look like a repeat of yesterday’s draw.

I should'a brought me hat, Sniper thought as he took aim at a rogue blue pyro and fired. Where did I leave that thing? Ah it's still in my bloody van innit? He pulled the bolt handle and the bullet casing clattered to the floor. Maybe that fancy mongrel's whole plan is to put me off me bloody game. He loaded a round in the bolt and pushed it forward, Well jokes on him, I'm feelin' better than I have all week. He glanced behind himself at the thought of the BLU spy, but found nothing there and took aim. He muttered a quiet insult at the enemy heavy before firing, but the big man had been knocked back by an explosion at just the right moment and the shot missed. Sniper cursed himself, but reloaded with mechanical movement that took less than a second. Another casing clattered away from him. But he kissed me. He thought, He wouldn't go that far, no one's that evil. He felt his heart clench but he took aim again anyway, We're mates... We've been mates fer almost a year. He couldn't be that despicable... He fired, landing the shot on the heavy this time, and watching him topple into the snow. He kissed me. He reloaded, He kissed me four times. Wait... Three times. I think I dreamt that last one. He winced at himself. Oh for Christ's sake I even dreamt about him! What the bloody hell's wrong with me? He fired and shot the blue engineer in the shoulder as he ran back for cover. He took a deep breath and accepted that no amount of sorting would keep his mind clear until he faced the issue head-on. But that would require him to give Spy a solid answer, which he simply just did not have.

By the next hour the blue team had pushed the reds back to the fourth point. Sniper was forced to leave his roost and make a dash for a position closer to the base if he didn't want an ass full of bullets or a rocket to the face. He was clipped by an explosion of sticky bombs that obliterated the RED pyro on his way back to resupply. He held his arm in his hand as blood oozed from between his fingers, it was something he was used to, but the pain was still enough to make him groan in agony. Pain and dying always hurt, sometimes it was even excruciating, but working with Mann Co. and TF Industries meant it would never last. Healing was always instant and death was more or less a joke.

Nonetheless, pain and losing always puts a man in a bad mood. Even fully healed and safely tucked away in his nest, the sniper was brooding about the distraction Spy's memory continued to bring him. It's all crazy. He thought, First I lower me gun to an enemy and next thing ya know he wants to start neckin'. His abdomen felt heavy with coffee and he reached for a glass jar lying sideways on a barrel. This is the best job I've ever had, why should I risk throwin' it away for some French tart who's bound to toss me aside later? He frowned, unzipping his pants and relieving himself into the empty container. And what if someone caught on, that kind’a business follows a man fer life. He screwed the lid back onto the jar and set it aside, straightening his shirt and pants before lifting his gun again, He's a lunatic, it's just askin' fer bloody trouble. He fired at the BLU soldier as he flew through the air, hitting him in the liver, but it was just enough to kill him when he impacted on the ground. Sniper chuckled darkly to himself, finding a grizzly satisfaction in watching the bodies tumble limply into the snow.

He felt silly, thinking he'd let himself get carried away at all by the spy's advances. Sure he was attractive and lively and surprisingly kind, but Sniper couldn't possibly believe he'd enjoy being a couple. He'll probably treat me like his lady friends anyway, he silently sneered as the fighting quieted down below. Last thing I need are flowers on me doorstep or useless knick-knacks I ain't got any room for anyhow. Fancy bloody wuss he is. He glanced behind himself just in case. Frenchies are all soppy romantic types, he'll probably get all touchy n' cozy n' what have you. I wouldn't even know what to do with him. The thought was intended to deter him, but Sniper found he wasn't as opposed to the concept as he assumed he'd be. He shook his head, no, he wasn't cut out for the type of romance Spy would have in mind. He'll probably have me give up the camper! Sniper started, eyes going wide as he envisioned having to part with his beloved van. Me job, the camper? I don't even know how bloody serious that snake is. It won't work - absolutely not. He shook his head firmly and planted his foot to aim his rifle, feeling certain. I'm better off alone. He assured himself to the sting of an unhappy heart.

The next hour was the liveliest yet, as RED managed to push the blue team back not only to the middle point, but back toward their base. The reds held the second point and the odds were greatly in their favor when the engineer's sentry pushed back an enemy ubercharge just long enough to waste it. Invincibility or none, those turrets of his could turn an entire match. Sniper was feeling rather good about himself when he popped the medic between the eyes two times in a row, and he'd almost forgotten he was working when the BLU sniper switched out for a bow and arrows and took his chances in the open. Needless to say Sniper was elated to have such a fulfilling hour. He wondered though why he hadn't once seen even a glimpse of the BLU spy since the day began. It was relieving of course, yet somehow unnerving. Initially the Aussie wondered if he was up to something, but as time ticked by it became more unnerving in a different way. He couldn't be hesitating. Sniper thought, chewing at his lip, He's too proud for that. Unless... He felt uneasy at the prospect of his spacing being a sign of his seriousness about their conversation. No... That couldn't be right. It don't matter that much to him do it? He turned again toward the wall behind him; a consistent instinct to check the empty room for sneaky Frenchmen. His heart felt funny, and he wasn't sure if it was regret or fear or embarrassment or something between the three. Suddenly all of his certainty was thrown for another loop, and he found himself not knowing what to think again.

He fiddled with the cap on his telescopic lens; pushing it closed and popping it open over and over. He mulled over the sparks he witnessed in that man's eyes when he held him against the cold wall, and the carefulness with which he spoke and moved. He contemplated the warmth of his body and the broadness of his shoulders, and then clumsily let the barrel of his rifle bounce off the floor when he lowered it. He's not so bad. Sniper swallowed, feeling something familiar well up in his chest. Good looks, good manners... Never overstays his welcome. He furrowed his eyebrows, He's never asked much of me. Even puts up with the jarate'n still comes back. He ruffled his own hair and sighed, What if we did give it a go? I reckon he wouldn't wanna be caught any more than I do. I mean... We haven't been caught once fer all the times we chat on the job. He drew up his shoulders, feeling overwhelmed with the concept of having been the object of Spy’s affection all those times.

He's a man. Sniper gulped, feeling the fiery excitement in his nerves, A man. I never thought... Hell I never thought I'd end up with anyone let alone a man. Even if he does toss me aside... His breathing shuddered, ‘Least I can say I took the chance. He wrung his hands, This might be the only chance I ever get. He stilled, then audibly growled at himself and squeezed his fingers into fists. “I’d be bloody awful.” He whispered out loud, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'll make a moron of meself. He’s a smooth talking, experienced, good looking bastard and I’m…

Then there he spotted him, disguised as the RED engineer. He could tell immediately because the real engineer had just left to move his sentry up ahead. An instinct suddenly overcame him. He had to shoot. He didn't know exactly why, but somehow Spy's genuinely happy laughter echoed in his ears when he lifted his gun. He felt a tremble in his fingers as he lined up the sights, and hesitated to watch the man look around before pulling an electronic Sapper from his pocket. He heard blood fill his ears when the little red dot stilled on the back of his head. It was him. It was Spy. It was the man who admired his marksmanship. It was the man who kissed him. And Sniper didn't even feel the trigger move under his finger before that man's blood was sprayed across the wall, and his lifeless body fell forward. The sniper froze, chest pounding slow but hard. He kept his eye locked into his lens until blood pooled from the now blue suited corpse. The disguise had dissipated in a flash of smoke when he fell, and soon his body would vanish as the computers in the respawning room took him away atom by atom. He laid his rifle down, and lifted his palms up to question the way his fingers shivered. Finally he understood. This was true regret, even though he knew it was what Spy wanted him to do.

He jumped at the booming voice of the announcer through the speakers, declaring a victory for the RED team. Sniper hadn't even realized they were capturing the point and now they’d won. He packed up listlessly and ignored the five minute humiliation round outside. He didn't really feel like a winner.

The BLU Spy had managed to evade the humiliation round by dying just before his team's loss. He stepped out of the respawn room with a dull ache in the back of his head -typical of a 39 millimeter bullet to the brain. He rubbed the sore spot and stretched his neck, thinking with relief that the nervous kangaroo had it in him after all. He stifled a smile, glad to know the Australian could still work under such a unique type of pressure. The rest of his team materialized before him one by one looking as displeased as he expected. The pale and vaguely ill looking BLU sniper caught sight of the spy when he appeared and nearly stomped in his direction.

"Wanna warn a bloke before you decide not to do your damn bloody job hey?" He barked at the Spy, who glared at him as he lit a cigarette.

"I did my job." Spy replied to him flatly, offering no sympathy.

"Are you fucking mad? That sniper took out half our team on every bloody point and you sat around on your bloody arse pickin’ daisies!" He seethed back, "Your job is to take care'a that fucking bell-end!"

Spy's mouth twitched with the phantom of a sneer, and he blew smoke for a moment before speaking. "Au contraire," he puffed, disinterested, "I have many jobs in which I was quite successful. It is unfortunately no fault of mine that you are not successful in yours."

The blue sniper looked ready to lunge at the man when the medic joined them, "Herr Spy I must agree with Herr Sniper. That man was a vital target and because of him we lost two ubercharges." Although the doctor spoke softly, it was clear he was annoyed as well.

"Again I fail to see why I must always be the one to take care of a target much easier killed with a ranged shot." Spy reiterated lazily. "Yet I’m hearing no appreciation for the sentries I alone destroyed."

The sniper made to swing at the masked man, but the doctor held him fast, giving him a disapproving look before turning him away, "I expect us to work harder next round." Medic offered vaguely as he led the furious sniper into the nearest room.

Most of the others had filtered out of respawn during the exchange; they were no strangers to badmouthing after a hard loss. It didn’t matter much to Spy though, victories and losses were team efforts on the field, and they couldn’t stay mad indefinitely. He sighed and turned to leave when a meaty hand gripped his shoulder, turning him around.

"Good work out there son." The blue soldier grinned at him beneath his helmet, "You really saved my tail when you took out that red medic. One more second and that hippy’s guard dog would have ripped me a new behind.”

Spy recalled stabbing the enemy medic as he took cover behind the heavy, effectively costing him his kritzkrieg charge on the central point. It must have saved the soldier at the time, but Spy had run off too fast to catch it. He wished he could say he was surprised at the distaste the other supporting classes showed for his lack of intervention with the sniper that day, but he’d made an honest effort to make up for it in other ways.

"All in a day's work my amigo." Spy smiled, somewhat won over by the childlike charm of the BLU soldier’s recognition for his efforts where it was due.

He continued to avoid the sniper during the second match of the day, and the third. He steered clear of his sight lines and left him to enjoy an uninterrupted day of shooting for once. It was the least he could do to thank him for the other night, and it would be rather awkward anyway to strike up a conversation before the man had a chance to really think about his offer. By the end of the day he chuckled at just how many kills the Australian had racked up without a certain blue Frenchman to stifle his workflow. When he crawled under his duvet that night, Spy reached over into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a pen and tiny notebook. He jotted down a note in blue pen and neatly tore it out, folding it and setting it at his bedside. Running through a small plan in his mind, he sank deep into his luxurious goose feather pillows. He thought of Sniper, as he often did before he slept, and fondly looked forward to the following day.

That afternoon he jumped at the first opportunity he was given to scour the highest buildings in search of his favorite back. He crept with near silent steps around corners and up stairs, stopping to carefully peak into every room with a window. He heard voices up ahead of him and tentatively crept along down the hallway with his back against the closest wall. He tapped at his watch and cloaked, listening to any words he could make out. He heard the familiar gravelly tone of the man he was looking for, but he was speaking to someone in the room instead of himself this time. Spy nearly choked when the RED pyro sauntered out of the room ahead and trudged down the hall, flamethrower at the ready. Spy froze and held his breath, pressed up hard against the wall to make himself as small as he could be. When the demonic abomination of a mercenary turned the corner, he flicked open his disguise kit. In a wisp of smoke he became that very pyro, and slipped into the room with a practiced dramatization of their body language.

Sniper turned, glancing at the pyro before turning back, "I told ya mate I haven't seen him up here."

Spy smiled at the obvious reference to his person, but reached into his pocket and slid his balisong free, flipping it open. He could see the Sniper twitch in suspicion but drove the gleaming blade deep between his shoulders before it could culminate into defending himself. Sniper screamed, and Spy winced with that paternal type of expression that said "you tried." He grabbed the man before he could hit the ground with his full weight, and eased him to the floor. Kneeling with his pliant body in his arms he reached out, and with careful caress touched the man's cheek, fingers flinching when his bleary dying eyes flickered up to look at him. He watched, undaunted but open as Sniper parted his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Moments later the light left his gaze and Spy was sure he was gone. He smiled softly and gently closed the man's eyelids before his body could fade away.

"It's confusing the first time." He whispered, "But you've done well."

Sniper opened his eyes in the RED base, standing idly in the respawn room. His spine ached, and his mind was foggy, but he recalled the look on Spy's face before everything went dark. He had spent the entirety of last night laying in his bed, recalling his one and only kill on the Frenchman, and wondering why he felt bad for something he had been used to doing for years. But that look on his face just then- that understanding, reassuring look without a hint of regret or anger- it made him feel somehow better. He grumbled and made his way back to his nest, suddenly feeling a peculiar sense of normalcy in having been stabbed in the back at last.

Spy was there when he returned, leaning invisibly against the wall as the taller man scratched his head and sorted out his things after yet another death on the field. He stayed there, silently observing as the Aussie cursed under his breath and checked the alignments of his crosshairs after the rifle had clattered to the floor. He seemed content with them after a moment, and fired a round through the window into a passing blue down below. He checked over his shoulder as he reloaded, but saw no one there. When he grabbed the bolt handle he stopped, lowering the entire gun into his lap as Spy grinned to himself, arms folded. The sniper fiddled closely with the handle and pulled away a small paper wrapped tightly around it. Spy's smile only grew when he unfolded it and observed the contents.

Sniper stared down at the little piece of paper with the blue cursive script. He moved as if to crush it into a matted ball, but held it still in his hands before committing to any motion. The spy grinned when he angrily muttered "piss" to himself and tucked it away in his vest pocket instead. With a satisfied smile and a glow he could feel through his torso, Spy crept from the room, back to patiently awaiting Sniper's confident decision. The folded note remained in Sniper's pocket for the rest of the day, hiding away a private message

“Business as usual. ❤“

#tf2 #sniperspy #sniper/spy #sniper #spy #Team Fortress 2 #down undercover #fanfiction #chapter 5 is live!

7 notes · View notes

cavalava · 6 years

Text

personal stuff below

Hey all you lovely people, you.

Here's a warning that this is personal stuff. There's no punchline, no joke, no nothing. It's downhill from here. Also that i know there's going to be something triggering somewhere in here and i gurantee you I'll forget to come back to this warning to put the actual triggers in, but the real ones will be in the tags. But this is your warning.

I feel like i can talk here because while i know some of you, i don't know a bunch of you (even if I'd like to). I just want to get it out there, even if to strangers, before i get it out there to the people i know, because it's horrifyingly hard for me to admit to any of this. To whom it may concern, this is the reason I've fallen off the face of the Earth.

I've found myself depressed. Deeply, horribly depressed. The worst part is, i know exactly why. But i don't know what to do with that. So let's start from the top.

So 2016. December. My mom gets rushed to the hospital after she's found delusional in bed with what we think is the flu. They diagnose her as septic, eight hours in the emergency room. I wasn't home that day due to Pagan stuff, my dad lied and said she'd be home the next day, they put her into a coma to keep her alive.

Two weeks pass. They took her off the paralysis meds the week before, she starts to wake up. By this time I'm in classes again and before class my dad called me to tell me the news that she's talking again. I drag my professor into the hall and start crying and tell her what's happened but i feel like I'm lying. Luckily, she believes me. She lets me skip class to go back to the hospital, two hours away, to see my mom. From here on out I'm driving two hours there and two hours back every weekend.

A couple weeks later, i wake up in a bed that's not mine next to a man i never even got the last name of. I get a call from my dad and he tells me not to go back to my hometown but to go to Chicago instead, which is still probably two hours of driving with traffic even if it's closer. He cites that she "needs better health professionals" than my hometown hospital can give her because of her hands and feet, which have grown black due to the blood pressure meds she was on for the first two weeks. I don't think much of it but i go anyway.

I visit with her and my dad recommends that he and i go to the cafeteria to get dinner. I agree since my wallet has been drained with gas prices.

We go down and get burritos. He tells me he lied. That it's not about the professionals. It's that she needs to have her hands and feet amputated. He starts crying, telling me he doesn't even know how to tell her, his wife, my mother, the strongest woman we know, who prides herself on her looks, who wears high heels everywhere, who owns her own business, who we lovingly called "Wonder Woman" for half my life, who has finely manicured nails that were just done for Christmas, who can look any man in the eye and tell him he's not worthy, who taught me everything i know about being the human embodiment of courage. That she needs to lose her hands and feet.

It didn't click. Not until the night of the surgery. My father and her parents were in the room, waiting for her to be rolled back in on the bed. I remember her coming in, her arms and legs bandaged up, her still half drugged from the meds. She attempted to look at her hands, which she lifted, but nothing was there. My father calmly and gently didn't let her look. The world felt like it was spinning. It felt like a nightmare. That it couldn't be real. That night i sat on the edge of the top floor of the ten story parking garage and considered pushing myself off. I didn't. I tried to drive home but got fifteen minutes away before i panicked and called my friend to ask him to stay at his place. I made it there and did that instead.

A month or so goes by. I've started drinking and smoking, both habitually. My mother has been in therapy. She's set to go home early, on March 8th, 2017, rather than the next month she was supposed to. I was going to skip class on that Thursday to go see her at home, but instead i found myself in a car crash and afraid to try to drive it again. It takes me a while to get enough money to get it fixed.

I finished up the semester with only one failed class. My usually strict parents give me a break on it. I still needed to retake it for my major.

Summer comes around. I started vaping instead of smoking (I'm trash but it makes my parents happier). I met my current boyfriend. Things are good. But they're not. I'm home more, i need to take care of my mom more, i have more responsibility. Everybody tells you how you'll teach your kids to walk and eat, nobody tells you you might need to do so for your mother. On occasion, she cries and tells me she wishes she had died instead. I don't know what to tell her.

At this time, my grandfather, who had dementia and wasn't truly himself anymore, passes away. Somehow, it's relieving, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

School starts up again. I have a lot of things to do in my senior year. The semester rolls forward, i find myself more depressed, to the point where i can't even peel myself out of bed most days, even to eat. I fail my class in my major first semester. I can't graduate. All i wanted to do was die. I was a failure. I couldn't do what i spent four years working my ass off for. Just let me die.

But i didn't. I kept on. I kept working. I kept going. I don't know why. I wanted to give up, and in some regards, i did. I failed at a lot of things, including two classes second semester and my sorority's presidency. I couldn't handle it all. I couldn't handle anything. I was a mess. I often drank myself to sleep at night. I rarely attended classes. Some of my professors knew what was going on, but there was nothing they could do, and it's not their fault. I had two friends die last semester. One was my friend Drew, who welcomed me into the UU church i attended, who took his own life. The other was Griffin, who i talked to often in a class that i still failed, who was struck by a vehicle in front of campus at 19. Both were so hard for me to handle.

My parents made me walk for graduation, having filled out a petition to let me walk with my class. It was mostly for my own family than anything, as they don't know anything of my failing, which just makes me feel worse. I walked, but i know i didn't earn it. I know i didn't deserve it. It just hurt more, watching my other successful classmates walk and leave me behind. I knew i shouldn't have been there. I didn't want to be there. The cap, the gown, the parade, they were all a monument to my failure. People hugged me. Congratulated me. I didn't deserve any of it. People who knew me asked why i was there. I didn't know either. It wasn't right for me to pretend like i could be with them. I wasn't with them. And part of me is spiteful that they left me there. But it's not their fault for seeking their own success. It's not their fault for hurting me, less so for not knowing how much it hurt me.

I don't deserve anything.

I don't want to graduate at all now. I'm so close but i know that I'll get even worse in a month when i go back. Why try? Why bother? I did my time and i fucking failed. Why risk wasting more time and money?

Over the summer i tried to set up a Pagan organization for my area. As per usual, my depression got the better of me and i ended up isolating myself, becoming afraid of interaction. I'm no longer part of it. I lost the ambition that i had with my previous one, i couldn't do it. I'm ashamed of that. I don't know what to do with that. I'm trying not to think about it.

Now I'm back to living neither here nor there. I'm living with my boyfriend at his parents' house during the week and living in my apartment on weekends. Neither feels like home. It's taking its toll on both of us. We're waiting for his job to get transferred, but it's taken two months longer than it was supposed to now. We hope for September, before school gets in again, but that's getting closer and closer with no sign of progress. It feels a lot like traveling back and forth from my dorm to the hospital and i don't know what to do with that either.

Not to mention i need to get a job myself. Which wouldn't be hard if i tried, but i currently don't have a car or a solid living place or motivation or anything. And maybe that makes me lazy. Maybe that makes me awful. Maybe that makes me a failure again. But i know that if i got a job I'd just fuck that up too.

I don't know what the point of this is. Maybe it's to tell you guys. Or somebody. Or anybody. Maybe it's to get it out. I'm really not sure. I just want to be normal again. I just want to live normally, to be able to get up in the morning, to be able to be who i was, to feel human again. But I'm not sure when or if that will be.

I'm sorry.

I want to be better.

Thank you for reading i guess. I need sleep.

#trigger warning #tw: depression #tw: surgery #tw: suicide #tw: death #tw #tw: anxiety #tw: drinking #shut up Cristina #tw: trauma #tw: whatever else #idc

0 notes