#perhaps I’ll check out blades 2… sometime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riversofmars · 1 year ago

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The second day of Liv's assignment is shaping up to be no less difficult than the first as she accompanies Helen on the campaign trail. (Chapter rating: General)

Chapter 2

Liv thanked her lucky stars that the Starbucks in St. Pancras was 24h. She wasn’t sure where else she would have gotten a coffee from before 5am. She downed the dregs of it as she walked the final stretch up to Dr. Sinclair’s home.

“Morning, Ma’am,” the night duty officer greeted her as she walked up to the front gate, beyond which the terrace townhouse rose tall and imposing.

“Anything unusual?” Liv asked, looking up at the building. It was three stories and there was light on on the first floor behind a set of heavy curtains. The bedroom, she ventured.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, quiet night,” he reported pleasantly.

“Good…” She nodded, checking the time on her wristwatch. It was 5.28am. “Is she up?” She knew he couldn’t really answer that, but hoped for some indication one way or another.

“Light’s been on a while,” he answered, and that would have to be enough. They had agreed this time, the protection officer didn’t want to be accused of tardiness. As much as she knew she didn’t have anything to prove, the previous day she had taken their exchange about the time as a challenge from the politician. They were still negotiating boundaries, and this was not something with which she would be able to catch her out.

“I’ll try my luck,” she decided, and the uniformed officer tipped his hat at her, returning to his impassive position of guarding the entrance of the property as she walked past and up to the door. Checking the time again, she rang the doorbell at 5.30am sharp.

There was no reaction, not for a long time. Liv chewed the inside of her cheek, mulling over her options. Since the light was on, the MP was clearly awake. Perhaps she hadn’t heard the bell because she was upstairs - an unlikely scenario since she imagined the doorbell would be audible anywhere in the house; perhaps she simply wasn’t ready yet? Or maybe she was ignoring her, making her wait on purpose? She scolded herself for assuming the worst. She hardly knew the woman she was charged with protecting, but their first day together hadn’t exactly been plain sailing. Her finger hovered over the doorbell, but before she could make up her mind and press it again, the door was pulled open.

“You do realise the time, don’t you?” Dr. Sinclair snapped, and Liv’s heart sank. This didn’t bode well for day two, and yet, she tried for a smile of greeting.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” she gave back politely, but the politician didn’t stick around to listen. She turned on her heel and walked back into the dark corridor, leaving the door open in an obvious invitation to follow. “We agreed 5.30am?” the protection officer called after her, and stepped inside. Fighting a wave of annoyance, she closed the door behind herself and flicked the light on so she could see where she was going.

“Yes but I didn’t expect you to-” The MP’s voice sounded from inside the house and Liv followed, scanning her surroundings as she did so. There wasn’t much to the hallway, it was plain and practical with a long row of coats hung up by the door, and a cupboard of shoes further along - much like any normal home, she remarked as she walked down the hall. It opened into a wide, open-plan living space with a dining and seating area to the right and a kitchen to the left. She found Dr. Sinclair at the kitchen island, holding on to steady herself as she struggled into a pair of high heels. Her tailored dress was only done up to her shoulder-blades and several strands of her hair hung loose around her neck. Sometimes the easiest answer was the right one: she was not ready.

“Would you rather I waited outside?” the protection officer asked respectfully, fixing her eyes to the floor as she didn’t want her to feel self-conscious.

“Oh well, you’re here now,” she huffed, and with much difficulty zipped up her dress. It was clearly an awkward angle but Liv didn’t think it a good idea to offer assistance. That was certainly not in her remit.

“Shall I call the car for 6.15am?” she offered, trying to be accommodating. It would give her extra time without having to ask for it.

“Sure…” the MP answered, and her movements around the kitchen slowed noticeably. Instead of continuing to fumble with her hair, she made for the coffee machine. “That’ll give me a chance to get a couple of hours of work in before we set off to Warwick,” she mused as she pushed a coffee pod into the machine. Liv figured she was the sort of person that liked every moment of their day planned out, making to do lists as she went and utilising every minute.

“And then Milton Keynes - Leicester - Coventry?” The protection officer couldn’t imagine the schedule had changed between last night and this morning but she had to be sure. She watched her actions carefully, but didn’t venture any further into the kitchen aware of the fact she still had her shoes on. It was hardly the time to take them off and get comfortable, so she clasped her hands behind her back and waited.

“Yes,” the politician answered, and brushed a strand of hair from her face as she waited for the coffee to pour. “God, I hope they haven’t messed up that speech…” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked tense.

“What? You don’t write your own speeches?” The quip had crossed Liv’s lips before she could think better of it. She’d been trying to think of something to say to put her at ease - protecting someone who was tense and jumpy was much harder than someone who was relaxed - but the moment Dr. Sinclair’s head whipped around, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. “Sorry, that was meant to be a joke. Didn’t land.” She cast her eyes down apologetically under her angry glare.

“I would like to write my own speeches, and I do when I have the time but I can’t write every single one of them - do you have any concept of how many of them I’ll have to give in the next month?” she snapped, and all the brunette could do to rectify the situation was apologise again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

To her great surprise, the MP softened considerably.

“No, I’m sorry… it’s early and I haven’t slept much…” she muttered, running her hands through her hair. Upon closer observation, she looked rather tired.

“We could have started later,” Liv offered. “We still can. I can call the car for seven-” The other woman interrupted her with a sigh.

“No… it’s fine, I’m up now… just need to do my hair…” she mumbled, then looked over to her. “Only have myself to blame… I was being facetious when I said that last night…” she admitted and pulled her mug out of the coffee maker. “I’m sorry,” she apologised to the protection officer’s even greater surprise. “Can we start again?”

“It’s fine,” she nodded quickly. “And yes, I’d like that.” It really hadn’t been the best start, and she was glad the politician had realised as much as well. Hopefully their working relationship could improve from there. It would make things easier in the long run.

“Help yourself to coffee,” Dr. Sinclair gestured at the machine as she crossed the kitchen. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Thank you,” Liv gave back, watching her climb the stairs. Even after she had disappeared, she needed a moment to shake herself out of her stunned state. That had been a much better start to the morning than she had anticipated. While she wasn’t as bold as to follow her invitation, she did pull her phone from her pocket to request their car.

---

The drive to the Palace of Westminster passed in silence. Liv noted that the politician had made the effort of letting her open the house and car doors for her without interfering and took it as a good sign. Dr. Sinclair bit back a yawn as she scrolled through her phone, and the protection officer watched the sun come up over the river as they drove up through South Bank to the seat of government. It was surprisingly peaceful.

Things continued in a similar manner as they arrived at the MPs office - they were the first ones there. Whilst there had been a few people walking the halls of Westminster, the early morning was clearly not everyone’s preferred time for starting work.

“I like it like this,” Dr. Sinclair stated, and Liv got the impression that she had noticed the curiosity with which she had looked around. She would have to work on her poker face, the politician was more observant than she’d anticipated.

“Rather more peaceful than yesterday,” she commented as she took the lead past the desks the staffers usually occupied.

“Won’t be like this for long, a lot of early risers in our line of work, particularly now,” the blonde continued, and didn’t interfere with the protection officer flicking on the light and conducting a quick sweep of her office. Dropping her briefcase on the desk, she observed her doing so and added: “Now, you really don’t have to stand looking over my shoulder now. There is no-one here.”

“Do you not think this paperwork can wait when you have a full day of campaigning ahead of you?” Liv asked and scolded herself for the insolent way in which she had posed the question, but it was something she was wondering about. There hardly seemed to be much point when they would have to be on the road to Warwick by 8am at the latest.

“I didn’t get done with these yesterday.” Fortunately, the politician didn’t seem to take offence as she discarded her blazer and hung it on the back of the chair. “I don’t like leaving constituents' letters if I can help it.” She gestured at a considerable pile of yet unopened mail. Liv wondered just how many of those were genuine concerns being raised, and how many simply contained complaints and abuse. She put nothing past the British population.

“I see,” she nodded, as she couldn’t fault her ambition.

“We shouldn’t leave here any later than 7.45am though,” Dr. Sinclair hummed, checking the time on her wrist watch. “And head to party headquarters so we can set off to Warwick in good time.”

A frown drew to the protection officer’s brow as she slowly took up her familiar position by the window.

“Excuse me for saying so, Ma’am, but that sounds rather pointless,” she pointed out. “Why not set off from here so you can maximise your time?” She deemed it a fair question and the MP actually chuckled as she sliced open her first letter.

“Can’t very well have the ‘battle bus’ park up outside Westminster, hardly a good look,” she commented, grimacing at the term describing the monstrosity that had become a fixture in British elections of late.

“Oh no, you’re not going in one of those,” Liv huffed, shaking her head, and the blonde promptly whipped around.

“Excuse me?” she challenged, the good-natured chuckle a thing of the past. The blonde squared her jaw, and Liv sensed that she had spoken too soon where their improved rapport was concerned, and did her best to sound reasonable and firm as she explained.

“That’s like putting a bull’s eye on your back,” she stated. “Assuming that there is someone out there who is planning to make an attempt on your life, you couldn’t be more forthcoming in announcing your whereabouts. I can’t allow that.” She held her piercing gaze steadily.

“This whole thing might appear like a circus to you, but it is the best way of engaging with the journalists and getting favourable coverage so-” Dr. Sinclair began to argue but the protection officer brought a swift end to it.

“My priority is keeping you safe,” she announced firmly. “I’m afraid I have to put my foot down about this… Ma’am.” She added the honorific as an afterthought, but hoped it would go some way towards appeasing her.

“Is that so,” the MP ground out, a flush of anger drawing to her pale cheeks, and Liv did her best to remain calm and reasonable.

“Please don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

“Is it hard?” the politician shot back pointedly, and the protection officer knew there was no right answer to this so she remained silent, fixing her eyes forward. She didn’t want to undo the tender progress they had made first thing in the morning but yes: this job was shaping up to be extremely difficult. “How would you rather we travel?” Dr. Sinclair questioned once it became clear she wasn’t getting an answer.

“Blacked out, armoured cars, as you get around the city,” the brunette answered dutifully but without looking at her. Standing to attention while being shouted at by a superior had been drilled into her in the RAF. The MP's anger was much more subtle than that but no less effective. “Preferably several identical ones to throw off an attacker.” There was a moment of silence that turned on a knife's edge: a tense stand-off.

“Guess I’ll let my PA know plans have changed,” the MP huffed at last and pulled her phone from her briefcase.

“Thank you, Ma’am..” Liv minded her manners and she made up for her shoulders relaxing in relief by standing up a little straighter. She tried her best to fight the sinking feeling that despite her best efforts, the day would turn out to be just like the previous one.

---

They got in the car by 8.00am. The staff had been less than enthusiastic, but Dr. Sinclair had brokered no argument on the matter which Liv was grateful for. It was something. The PA joined them in the car, sitting unobtrusively next to her employer, pouring over some paperwork or other. Several staffers followed in another car, and as they would be on the road for roughly two hours, it gave the MP time to work on the speech that she was set to give. This would likely equate to a long, boring journey for the protection officer, so she settled in for the drive, sitting across from the MP again. She undid her jacket and was greeted by a pointed: “Do you have to wear that?”

Surprised, she looked up to find Dr. Sinclair shooting an apprehensive glance at her gun, much as she had the night before.

“I do, yes,” Liv answered slowly. “For your and everyone else’s safety.” The PA glanced over, but quickly buried herself in her papers when the protection officer shot her a chastising glare to keep out of it.

“Right,” the politician huffed but seemed far from satisfied with the answer.

“I am a licensed firearms officer,” the brunette continued calmly, suddenly feeling a need to justify herself. “I did all the training, all the background checks… some of which you insist upon, if I remember correctly…” Pointing out as much was unnecessary, Dr. Sinclair was surely more than aware of the policies she herself had introduced and passed, but she couldn’t help it.

“Yes, well, they’re necessary!” the MP shot back. She’d gotten her back up all right, and for no good reason either. Liv happened to be on the side of tighter gun control. “You can’t just have everyone who decides to-”

“I’m not arguing with you, makes perfect sense,” she answered appeasingly, taking the wind out of her sails. Dr. Sinclair blinked, it was clearly not the response she had expected.

“Fine then,” she muttered and returned to her work. Liv refrained from a small smirk of triumph, though she felt like it. It wouldn’t be conducive to the situation, but she felt like she had scored a point.

Silence settled in the car, occasionally interrupted by the increasingly aggressive scraping of biro on paper and annoyed muttering as the MP made changes to the speech. The protection officer remarked on how tense she looked. It seemed as though she really would rather have written that speech herself…

---

By the time it got to delivering said speech, Liv wasn’t sure how much of the original work remained, but it certainly seemed to hit the spot. The protection officer stood to the side of the stage in the large auditorium, just out of sight of the students, and watched Dr. Sinclair give an empowering, and surprisingly touching speech.

The brunette forced her eyes away from the MP to observe the crowd, scan the room for any sort of unusual behaviour or suspicious activities, but found nothing like it. Instead, she looked into the inspired faces of the young. Helen Sinclair certainly had a way with words and the delivery of them. Liv tried her best to push the unbidden thoughts from her mind and focus on her job instead.

The speech concluded to a standing ovation, and the staffers congratulated each other on a brilliant start to proceedings. The protection officer, however, felt her heart drop as the politician didn’t return to their ranks as agreed. Instead she made her way to the front of the stage and descended the steps to ground-level where the audience was keen to greet her and shake hands.

“Fuck’s sake-” Liv muttered under her breath and quickly crossed the stage herself, following quickly. The bright spot-lights beat down on her, adding to the discomfort and worry that shot through her body. It was only the second day of her assignment, if something happened now-

“Ma’am, what are you doing?” the brunette hissed as she pushed close to Dr. Sinclair, keeping her voice low enough that hopefully, none of the adoring audience members would hear.

“Shaking hands, engaging with the voters, what does it look like?” the MP muttered in return, keeping a gracious smile fixed to her face as she did so.

“This is not what we agreed,” the protection officer insisted, keeping her expression as neutral as she could manage. She knew how important it was that they were not seen to be having an argument.

“This is what’s happening!” Dr. Sinclair gave back just as quietly, her demeanour never faulting in between words of thanks.

“Ma’am-” Liv brought her hand to her back, resting against her shoulder blades as she scanned the crowd, hyper-aware of every movement, every word.

“Your job is to protect me, then do that,” the MP pressed through a smile. “I will not allow my every move to be dictated by you!” And that was clearly the last word on the matter as she commented on the apprehensive looks some of the students were shooting at the protection officer. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.” She grasped another hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Thank you.”

Liv did her best to remain calm, putting her faith in her instincts and training, and sent a silent prayer to unnamed forces that this wouldn’t end badly for either one of them as she shielded her body to the best of her abilities.

—

“That was a roaring success,” the chief speech writer exclaimed as they headed back to the car in the staff car park of the university.

“That was irresponsible,” Liv interjected, following close behind Dr. Sinclair as she had been for the past half hour. Hopefully now she could voice her misgivings over how things had gone. It needed addressing. The politician, however, was paying her no mind, as her PA carried on enthusiastically while tapping on her tablet.

“You poll really well with the younger population, if they turn out on election day, they could really carry the vote for you.”

“We should make more of an effort with voter turnout, the young, women, minorities, that’s where we poll strongest,” another staffer added. They were all flying high on the success of the event while Liv was on edge and tense, loathing the feeling of being ignored. She knew she was not part of the MPs team as such, but she hadn’t expected to be completely shut out.

“Yes, let’s do that,” Dr. Sinclair smiled, looking a lot less tense than she had done on the way to the event.

“Pride event maybe?” the speech writer suggested as they reached the car, and Liv decided that that was where she would put an end to things.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but can you at least acknowledge I said something?” she interrupted, a flash of anger colouring her words. “You put yourself in grave danger!”

The group fell silent, staffers exchanging awkward glances and the candidate herself focused on her bodyguard.

“By shaking hands with university students? Please,” she huffed, shaking her head as though she thought the whole thing ridiculous. It only made Liv more angry.

“I’m being serious!” she snapped, and the politician fixed her with a stony gaze.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant, but not everything can be planned out and controlled to the last detail,” she told her coldly, and it seemed her staff realised that that was the moment to quickly make for the cars. Even the PA feigned ignorance as she pulled her phone out and turned to pretend to deal with something very important.

“You certainly can’t,” Liv bit back, giving into her annoyance. It used to get her in trouble in the military. She had a temper. Most days she was more than able to control it, she had learned to ever since she’d had to deal with politicians regularly that were infuriating as a rule, but the woman in front of her took the biscuit.

“That’s right,” Dr. Sinclair responded venomously. “You’d do well to remember that!”

“You’re still angry about the bus…” the protection officer realised with a disbelieving huff and the MP caught her PA looking up curiously.

“Can you give us a minute?!” she snapped.

“We really must be on our way to Milton Keynes,” the young woman stuttered, checking the time. “Otherwise-”

“Then go in another car!” the politician growled, and she jumped to action, joining the colleagues in the less crowded of the other two cars.

Liv ground her teeth together angrily but opened the door for the blonde regardless, sending one last appraising glance across their surroundings, making sure that they weren’t being watched. Once satisfied she got into the car as well.

“As I have said before, Ma’am, I’m not here to make your life difficult-” She restarted the conversation as she did up her seat belt, and Dr. Sinclair nearly jumped down her throat.

“Well, that’s what you’re doing!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled at her.

“I’m sorry, but you must realise that everything I do is for your benefit,” the protection officer insisted hotly. “Do you not realise the danger you’re in?”

“Quite frankly, I think it’s ridiculous,” the politician ground out, and that was crossing the line. How could she be so callous where her own life was concerned? Not to mention the hypocrisy of it all.

“Do you have any idea of the effort and resources that are being attributed to this? What all of this costs?” Liv spat. “That’s taxpayer money that pays for me to shadow your every move, that pays for the intelligence officers that are working tirelessly to find out who means you harm. As someone who pretends to be big on not wasting the British public’s money, you could at least do them the courtesy of taking this seriously!”

Stunned silence fell, even the driver appeared to be holding his breath. The protection officer could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears, she hadn’t meant to get as worked up as that, but she could only hope she had made her point clear. She was trained to interpret body language, note even the slightest changes, so it didn’t take much to spot the look of genuine hurt that crossed the other woman’s face. Her shoulders slumped noticeably as she hugged her arms around herself a little tighter.

“Well, that’s me told, isn’t it…” she mumbled, and cast her eyes out of the window where houses shot past as they made for the motorway.

Liv lowered her head and eyes as well as she grasped the edge of her seat. That could have gone better. Her attack had been personal, based on the other woman’s politics and opinions, and therefore utterly unprofessional. That was taking things too far.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line…” she apologised, hoping she hadn’t just ruined everything. There was every chance she would have a call from Protection Command by the end of the day taking her off the assignment awaiting disciplinary action if the politician made enough of a fuss.

“I am taking this seriously…” Dr. Sinclair said at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Her sober observation was a hell of a lot better than stopping the car and throwing her out, but Liv didn’t quite dare to hope just yet.

“Are you?” she asked cautiously and looked up to her. The MP wasn’t looking at her, she kept her eyes firmly fixed to the window, but her tense posture and the way worry lines split her otherwise picture-perfect face gave Liv pause. She had clearly gotten to her.

“Of course I am,” she mumbled, clearing her throat as her voice came out thick and emotional. “I just… I try not to think about it, that’s what they tell you early on. Don’t worry about every death threat you get, it’s part of the job, it-” She took a deep breath, and struggled visibly to keep a hold of herself. The brunette started feeling regret over her words, not just on a professional level but on a personal one too. The other woman had done nothing to her and she hadn’t stopped to consider her position in all this.

“This is different,” Liv continued slowly, as she didn’t want to lose the ground she had gained but also had no desire to hurt her further.

“I know that…” Dr. Sinclair admitted softly. “I’m just trying not to let it get to me.” And for the first time the protection officer saw something akin to fear in her eyes as she looked back to her. She did understand the seriousness of the situation, even if she didn’t want to admit it. It was reassuring but also made Liv feel for her in a way she hadn’t before. She rarely stopped to consider how requiring her protection affected those she was assigned to.

“And that’s understandable but please… If you want to talk to people, fine, we can do that but… don’t spring it on me like that, okay?” she requested, hoping to strike some sort of a compromise. She was beginning to get a sense of what it meant to the other woman to be able to carry on as she had been. “Give me heads up, let me prepare… Back there, the only thing between you and a bullet was me…” She gave her a half-smile. She really didn’t fancy putting herself in the way of a bullet but that would also have been part of the job…

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sinclair said, with a small smile of her own as she seemed to be regaining her composure.

“We did say this morning we’d try again…” Liv pointed out, and the blonde chuckled.

“Yes…” she acknowledged with a sigh. “Didn’t that go well…”

“Another do-over?” the protection officer suggested. They seemed to be taking one step forward and two back at every turn, but she wasn’t someone who gave up easily. Stubbornness was one of her better traits.

“I’m sure you could have easier jobs than this…” Dr. Sinclair observed.

“Yeah but…” Liv tried for another smile. “I’m also the best you could have, so…”

“Is that so?” the blonde scoffed and the atmosphere lightened in a flash.

“Oh yeah,” the protection officer grinned.

“Maybe we can agree that we will likely bump heads again, but we will both try?” the MP decided after a moment of contemplative silence.

“I can work with that,” Liv agreed easily and relaxed as she leaned back. Surely this had to count as progress.

“Now… have you eaten, Sergeant?” Dr. Sinclair asked, reaching down to a cool bag that stood on the ground between their feet.

“No, Ma’am,” the brunette answered and watched as she pulled two sets of sandwiches from the bag. M&S meal-deal - no expenses had been spared.

“Well, you ought to,” the MP said matter-of-factly. “Egg and cress?”

Liv chuckled and nodded, she had no real preference where sandwiches were concerned, but she remarked on how rarely she had been offered provisions in her line of work. People often forgot she was there.

“What’s funny?” the politician frowned, and the protection officer decided it was probably better to deflect than lament how isolating her work could be.

“Just remembered something one of my instructors used to say,” she said as she pulled the packet open.

“And what was that?” the other woman asked, surprising her with what seemed like genuine interest.

“Well… he compared personal protection to looking after an infant. You sleep when they sleep, you eat when they eat-” It was certainly an apt comparison.

“Do you have children, Sergeant?” the MP questioned, launching into an attempt at small-talk. Much like the act of being offered food, this was also something Liv didn’t often experience. While the sentiment behind it was to be commended, it also made her a little uncomfortable.

“No, Ma’am,” she gave back plainly.

“Never wanted them or-” she stalled for a moment, as if she’d only just realised what she’d said. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if-”

“Oh not at all, it’s just… I’m unattached.” She forced herself into a mild smile, as if the matter was of no importance. It was no time to fall into melancholy musings about how empty and lonely her life felt, particularly when she was on a busy job like this and had no hope of a social life anyway - not to mention the opportunity of meeting someone. Dr. Sinclair seemed eager to apologise again for putting her in an awkward spot, but she didn’t have opportunity to as Liv found herself continuing: “Who knows, if my partner wanted them … but I don’t see myself doing the carrying. The job isn’t exactly well suited.” In hindsight, she wasn’t exactly sure why she had brought her sexuality into it. It was of no consequence and surely none of the other woman’s business and yet… Liv found she wouldn’t mind her knowing, better to have these things out in the open. If she was surprised she didn’t let on - if anything her reaction was enthusiastic.

“Well, that’s certainly an advantage of having those options open to you.”

---

The rest of the day’s campaign stops turned out to be rather uneventful. Dr. Sinclair appeared to have taken her request seriously. They pre-agreed how to go about every event and Liv kept close to her side for it all, even endured more hand-shaking as a courtesy. The PA was allowed back in the car in Milton Keynes, and they continued in a professional, focused manner.

By the end of the day, Liv was thoroughly exhausted, but felt better than she had the previous day. Dr. Sinclair appeared tired as well. Her make-up was slightly smudged from where she had rubbed her eyes, and she tried to suppress a yawn as they pulled into the road she lived on.

“Have you got far to go?” the politician asked, resting her head against the window.

“A little way-” Liv answered, doing her best to muster her last bit of energy for getting her into the house safe and sound.

“How are you getting there?” the blonde continued, her brow knitting into a frown, and the protection officer noted yet again that she was rather observant. She appeared to have realised her state of exhaustion.

“Probably just going to take a taxi…” she admitted with a tired half-smile as the car came to a halt. There was no way she would put herself through the exercise of the tube and bus now.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dr. Sinclair scoffed and before Liv could object, she got to her feet and leaned over the seat to the driver. “Kindly wait for Sergeant Chenka and take her home,” she requested and received a curt nod of acknowledgement.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“That’s really not necessary,” the protection officer started to argue, but to no avail.

“I disagree.” The MP shot an expectant glance towards the door, and Liv got up to open it for her, going through the practiced routine of looking up and down the road before allowing her to get out.

“I can make my own way home,” she insisted after a brief greeting towards the night duty officer.

“I know you can but I’d rather you didn’t have to. I put you through enough as it is,” Dr. Sinclair countered, and they walked up the stairs to her front door.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Liv hoped the twilight would serve to cover the blush that came to her cheeks. As much as she knew it was a gesture of apology at best, and at worst an attempt to ingratiate herself with her, she couldn’t deny that she appreciated it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone bar her sister had shown a care for her getting home safely. She waited patiently as the politician unlocked the door to assure herself of the same for her. “Goodnight, Ma’am.”

“Good night, Sergeant,” the MP replied but hung on for a moment. “6.30am should be fine tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

#doctor who #fanfiction #liv chenka #helen sinclair #femslash #big finish #liv x helen #alternate universe #alternate universe politics #thriller #action/adventure #slow burn #female bodyguard

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sopxhiea · 4 years ago

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Lush

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: A month passes by: a month filled with her around his office, with her lingering touches and flirty looks and Alfie begins to realize that he has taken the devil herself out of her cage.

“Bite your lip once more, I dare you.”

“Get in line, sweetheart.”

He had made his decision. And made it quick.

The room is quiet, nothing but the sound of cold wind seeping through the open windows. The inside of the apartment is scarcely decorated but there is flowers everywhere, some roses resting on the floor and some on the small table next to the lavish couch. The date and the occasion checks out while nothing moves inside.

It’s your place.

The you a month ago is a foolish girl, you realize. Someone who had hope for good things and perhaps miracles but not anymore. Although you think that maybe the way you had gotten a job and your own place had been a long-time wish granted. You don’t think much of it, just act and react to get through the days.

He’ll be here soon.

Without a cane in hand, you notice lately. He seems younger, acts like it too. He smiles more but you ignore the thought. He’s tough around the said bakery, shouts too much and is always angry but never with you. His eyes are softer, a little more merciful when you grace him with your presence, although it’s less often than he’d like.

The boarding school is in the other end of town, a bit too far to walk but his driver takes you sometimes. You find out his name is Ishmael, has a nice smile but he’s not a smooth flirt. You don’t comment on it, seeing as Alfie has done you a big favor and you find some sense in being good for a while.

But only for a while.

The game is still on, you’re sure it has never stopped, not when you and him are alone. You see it in his gaze, the hunger and the need to have you but you’re his employee now, someone under his wing and he’s not quite sure where that puts him. You know for a fact that he doesn’t give a single damn about employee and boss policy but it also has to do with the fact that you’re subdued around people since appearing out of thin air.

He doesn’t hate it.

Not exactly. He knows you have the upper hand behind closed doors, so much so that he’s ready to give you his life if you ask but around his employees, you act like there’s nothing between you and him. Little do you realize, the men don’t flirt too much and avert their gazes when you’re walking by and so you conclude that he has already spoken to them about not sparing a glance at you.

It doesn’t bother you as much anymore.

You still go to clubs but you don’t have to sneak out anymore, seeing as you have your own place. Men around are still hesitant, due to you being called ‘his girl’, although you’re sure that it’s the other way around since you’re the one who has him wrapped around your pinkie.

The horn outside is loud, so loud that it makes you want to scream but the neighbors don’t dare complain when they see the big black car with the scary boss in it. Far too scared to utter something as you get into the car and shoot him a smile.

The inside of the bakery is quiet, it’s a bit too early but you know he’s giving you day off tomorrow so you don’t complain. He settles in his office, sleeves rolled and the golden chain of his glasses reside around his neck. He smells all power and musk, some vanilla in his scent as Cyril walks around.

You still haven’t slept with him.

You came to close, too close last week when he had his hands under your skirt and was about to fuck you against the desk but gathered himself. You revel in the fact that it has been months and months of knowing you and yet, he still wants to be proper. You find yourself wanting him, just let him have you in the back alley of somewhere but you’ve perfected the art of covering up what you truly feel so he’s clueless.

Annabelle comes to visit every now and then, to see if you’re safe and checks your chest for bruises or possible hickeys but finds nothing other than small splinters on your hands. When she leaves, Alfie calls you over and carefully takes them out one by one, with a gentleness that seems foreign to him.

You clear your throat, wanting him to talk as you stand in his office, right in front of the door. You’re wearing a tight dress today and it makes him gulp when you take your coat off. His eyes don’t leave the paper for a solid minute, too afraid he’ll slip up and have you right there in his office in the early hours of the morning so he takes his sweet time composing himself and discarding his thoughts.

“Do you need anything?” you speak, a bit informal now that you see him on a daily basis. He’s still Mr. Solomons in front of the employees excluding Ollie, he’s Alfie in private.

Your Alfie.

You don’t grow attached, you repeat to yourself each night when you’re in the bath and the thoughts of his lips against yours find you. He’s a good kisser, you know that from first hand experience but it doesn’t surprise you anyway. He knows what he’s doing, as you find just how much he values your pleasure whenever he’s kissing you like there’s no tomorrow.

But it takes him longer to pull himself together.

He’s getting more careless each time, greedier and certainly a lot more hungrier. His touches get deeper, his kisses turn into bites after a while and he’s panting, actually losing his breath, when he feels your naked skin against his each time you let him kiss your neck and collarbones.

You bite your lip while waiting for him to talk and at that same moment, he finds enough courage in his poor heart to look up to meet your eyes but the sight feels like a bullet wound and he falls short of breath, in the very early hours of the morning.

He’s fucked.

Ollie knows this, sometimes even mutters it under his breath and finds it far too amusing for his own good. The lad is not blind and he knows Alfie well enough to point out certain things.

Things like how his mood shifts in the best way possible when you’re around, or how he fights a smile each time you enter his office. It takes Ollie a while to realize these since he’d thought of Alfie as a lone soul but he realizes, soon enough, that Alfie no longer wants to keep that status.

Alfie gulps and realizes you’re not even biting your lips as a seductive act but it’s too late. You catch his gaze and immediately catch on, far too smart for your own good, Alfie thinks. You offer him a slow raise of your eyebrows and you lick your lips once more, although he’s too focused on the entire image of you.

He clears his throat and you bite your lip, too aware of the effect you have on him.

“Bite your lip once more, lass.. I fuckin’ dare you.” he speaks without measuring his own words but you don’t care. You’re used to the burly old man speaking to you this way.

A gentle smile graces your lips and he knows, he knows, you have already ruined him in many ways. He has been with his share of women but after you, he’ll be ruined for life. You’ve ruined the others for him, he thinks, there’ll not be another one for him.

You shake your head and speak in a gentler tone, far too gentle for him in this soft morning as he watches your lips move. “I asked you if you need anything from me. If not, I’ll go to my office, sir.” The words left your mouth as you emphasized the last part and watched his eyes darken.

Ollie knocked on the door once and didn’t wait for the answer to come in.

The tension hung in the air, thick enough to go through it with a blade but the lad was already in. He looked at Alfie’s sitting form and you before repeating the motion again. Opening his mouth, he knew his boss was about to give him a load.

“Alfie, there’s a man who wants to talk to you.” he said, no apology for intruding as this was how men did things, with no manners.

You held the stack of papers against your chest as Ollie spoke and licked your lips, looking at Alfie the whole time. His eyes didn’t leave yours while Ollie spoke, only when he was done speaking did he direct his eyes to the lad. You thought he was either going to shout or go off on the lad but he did neither. He just spoke with a calm yet annoyed voice.

“That why you fuckin’ barged in ‘ere, aye?” he spoke, voice gruff as he sat behind his desk.��

Ollie was used to this, far too used to the harsh talk coming from his boss so it didn’t faze him nor you.

“He says he wants to speak about the shipment to the East side. He has lads with him, Alfie.” Ollie spoke, all in one breath and it was easy to see the glints of fear in his features. He was good at hiding it but after being around him for some time, certain things became recognizable.

Alfie looked at you first and then the lad. It was far too amusing, knowing he was afraid of something happening to you. You knew how to defend yourself and use a gun, a good one at that but the big boss was still adamant on protecting his pretty little secretary.

Before he could speak, a shout came from the corridor. A loud one that made Alfie reach for his gun and one that made Ollie close the doors to Alfie’s office but it made you laugh.

“Alfie Solomons!” the shout echoed, loud and clear.

It was much more than a shout after that, so many more loud noises that filled the bakery. The rest was quick, the way Ollie grabbed your arm and tried to grad you to the back side only to be stopped by Alfie.

There was another shout after that, much more vile and vulgar and it only made you smile. Men were animals when they were angry. The shout echoed through the now empty corridors and you listened, eyes on Alfie the whole time.

“Fuck you!”

You chuckled, a bit too taken back by the clearness of the message and uttered something under your breath, something that was accidentally audible for the rest of the room as you spoke. “Get in line, sweetheart.”

Ollie ignored the glint in Alfie’s eyes as you said but his eyes never left yours anyway. He reveled in the fact, would repeat the words to himself for the next month or so but he needed to take care of the animal outside of his office now, even though he’d make sure to bring your point up.

You offered Alfie a small smile in the midst of all of it and he would get back to you on it, just needed to deal with something beforehand. Ollie took you to the back side of the said bakery where there were more guns and better safety and told you to stay out.

And seeing as you wanted to stay alive, you did just that.

---------

There’s no blood on his shirt this time.

He looks angry, stale almost as he walks through the empty corridors. Something is bothering him, something that managed to actually hit a nerve. You stayed in the small back room, shoulder against the door frame as he walked towards you.

The nerve had hit you.

You straightened as he walked, not stopping even he was too close into your personal space. His steps only altered when his nose almost pressed against yours. Contrary to what it looked like from the outside, this wasn’t a sign of affection.

He was livid.

Breathing through his nose, Alfie looked down at you while his breath hit your face. Ollie was on guard, he knew Alfie wouldn’t hit you but he wasn’t sure of anything at that exact moment.

“Who the fuck is Henry, lass?” he asked, voice calm as opposed to his flaring nostrils.

He watched you panic, lose your calm all in one second right before his eyes.

Henry was not a nice man.

You had played this game with Henry too, somewhere along the line when you were much younger. He was one of those men who became obsessed with one thing: having you. He had hurt you, the scar on your inner thigh would vouch for that and soon after, he’d been arrested due to your uncle’s complaints. He never listened, though. You knew he was bound to show up but this was the worst possible time.

“He was....he was here?” you spoke, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence which said everything that needed to be said. Alfie took a step away from you, no longer in your personal space while he looked at you.

This fucker was about to get a beating.

He needed to know who he was and why he had been screaming around his damn bakery first, so he spoke. “Yeah, he was. Fuckin’ shoutin’ your name and everythin’.” he said, still cautious.

“I thought he was dead.” you spoke with a hesitant voice and did not meet his eyes.

Ollie watched the whole thing, fully knowing he would meet this lad to end his life soon.

“He fuckin’ will be.” Alfie spoke and your eyes met his at last.

This was a bad idea.

The games were all fun and all but you didn’t want someone to die because of you. Henry was a good choice but the most you’d done was a kick in the crotch and knowing he would be on the other side of the soil very soon because of you didn’t sit right with you. And you didn’t want extra blood on Alfie’s hands because of you, knowing he had plenty of it.

Ollie was long gone so you felt yourself walk a step closer to Alfie with attempts to calm down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” you spoke, hand reaching for his upper arm and residing there. The touch was natural at this point, just another reminder he had dangling right in front of his face.

“What did he do to ya’?” he asked, and started placing things together.

You knew how to stitch wounds back together and did exceptionally well in situations that had immense amounts of blood and panic so it only made him think that you had suffered those things yourself and your calmness came from experience.

You shook your head, more than ready to dismiss the whole thing now that he had asked that question. Your voice shook in the slightest as you spoke.

“Nothing...not too much I mean just-” He placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head so you had to look directly at his face as he stared down at you and spoke with a firm voice.

“Tell me, lass.” he spoke, his embrace magnetic as you stood close to the man.

Your eyes flickered between his own, a gulp present on your throat as you looked at him. You wouldn’t tell him now and he understood that soon afterwards. It was something that needed to be talked about later on, not now.

“Alright.” he said, getting the hint after you looked at him with nothing but a soft plea in your eyes. His hands clasped against the air and he spoke once again, Ollie also appearing around the corner of your eye.

“Up you go then.” Alfie said, climbing the stairs to his office behind you.

------

His hands were on you, quick too as they caressed your back. They would surely end up on your ass, squeezing and lightly slapping soon but you took your time while kissing him so he would remember the feel when you’d leave. His shin was right under yours as you straddled him on his big chair, you were sure Ollie had tried to come in a few times but realized what was going on.

This was the first time you were kissing him in his office this way.

You had earned the workers’ trust first and made friends with them, then you moved on to the next step which was screwing their boss. You had remained perfectly proper until now but they had all known that this was coming the first time you’d walked in as his little guest.

You broke the kiss but his hands didn’t let go of you, only recoiled around your arms and waist even tighter than before. You chuckled at the action, the protective big boss reluctant to let go of a thing half his size. You looked at his eyes as you spoke, lipstick no longer on your lips but more around his.

“You can kill him.” you said, out of breath and it took him a minute to snap back.

“What?” he said, gathering himself a little but his hand was still holding you in place by your waist. Your finger caressed his cheek, finding a napkin to get some of the lipstick off of him.

“Henry, I mean.” you said, face impossibly close to his and he realized that he was often finding himself inches away from your lips.

And for good reason.

“Lass, I’ve been fuckin’ kissin’ you for the past half an hour and that’s what you’ve been thi-” he spoke but you cut him off, still trying to wipe off some of the make up on his face as your hands held his head in place.

“No. Only for the last minute or so.” you said and watched his laugh which only made you smile in return but you kept speaking, you had been thinking of the terrible lad and you wanted justice to have its way.

“I’m just saying that you might even gain something from killing the bastard.” you spoke, as a matter of factly.

Alfie was a businessman and he was good to make deals with, so that was what you were doing.

You knew Henry had been disturbing some of the girls from your old school lately, Annabelle had told you so and a smaller girl had confirmed it. You had Alfie wrapped around your finger and so far, it had been proving to be very useful. The job and your own place were the first fruits of the harvest but this was bigger, this would impact other people’s lives for the better.

He raised his eyebrows at you and spoke, voice gruff as you sat on top of him. “How’s that, pet?”

“Get rid of him and you can ask one thing from me.” you spoke, getting up from his lap since he was distracted enough for you to be able to do that.

This was an in, an in you were giving Alfie and you’d never done that before, not with anyone and certainly not a gangster. It was usually the other way around, men owed things to you but the situation was different and you had grown slightly used to being around this man, so might as well give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Anythin’?” he asked almost immediately and you smiled, fixing your skirt and opening a window even though it was cold.

“Anything.” you said, too soft for his poor heart and he smiled at your words.

Wheels turned in his head, a small smirk apparent on his plump lips as he watched you close the door to his office after walking out. He knew you’d be the death of him but at this point, he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the slightest. He enjoyed the old game of push and pull and screamed for Ollie the minute you were out the door.

He wouldn’t ask for sex, he knew that had its time.

He’d ask for something much better but first, he had to get rid of the poor bastard.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @fuseburner @r-rose08 @innerpaperexpertcloud @caffinated-tree @cathartichaoss @ihavefandomsssss @thatchickwiththecamera @sugarcoated-lame @alainabooks143 @enrapturedbythemoon

a/n: I hope you like this one!! I think i’ll have a few more chapters out and see how things go but do let me know what you thought of it <3

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solarune · 4 years ago

Text

flowers in your hair

part of @neo-cult-ure‘s colours collab! | masterlist + prologue

pairing: lee taeyong x fem!reader (feat. a nosy lee donghyuck, childhood best friend quian kun, and college best friend/co-worker johnny seo)

genre: fluff, soulmate au, florist au, coffee shop au, idiots (literally) to lovers

warnings: taeyong being too cute to be real, florist!taeyong, coffee shop owner!reader, donghyuck is annoying, reader has a nightmare, switches to taeyong’s pov for one part

word count: 10,577

summary: what you know about your soulmate taeyong in the 6 years that you’ve known him: he has 6 tattoos but is already planning on getting 4 more, he loves his dog ruby very much, he has only ever shared his banana bread recipe with one person (you), his mom makes the best kimchi jjigae in the entire world, his favorite color is pink, and he is the man of your dreams. literally.

what you don’t know about taeyong: what he looks like.

what you know about the owner of the new flower shop across the street: he has light brown hair, he’s a caffeine addict (if his cousin donghyuck picking up coffee 5 days a week says anything about it), and he is your enemy by association (according to kun).

what you don’t know about the florist: his name.

a/n: i’ve wanted to write a florist!taeyong fic for the longest time and i finally got to!! thank you so much to @neo-cult-ure for reaching out to me to be part of this collab and please please please check out the rest of the fics because they were all written by some really talented writers!! thank you to @jungwoohoos for checking this fic over as she’s done with my others ily. hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :-)

When you open your eyes, you can’t help but feel like something is off. You can’t quite put a finger on it but something feels strange. But perhaps it was that strange dream that you had last night. Something about picking a color and finding your soulmate? The details of the dream were already escaping you but it doesn’t matter because you have to start getting ready for school-

Wait. School?

You sit up in bed and realize that you’re back in your childhood bedroom. You can even hear your dad singing in the shower judging by the terrible vocals that you can hear through your closed door. But why are you at your parents’ house? You look at your bedside table and see your phone and a letter with your name on it beside it. Picking up your phone, you check the time and realize that it’s 7am but it’s the date that throws you off; it’s 8 years behind. You pick up the envelope and slide your finger under the flap, hoping that whatever was inside would help you figure out just what exactly was going on.

Dear Y/N,

You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Your memories from our reality are mixing with your memories from the reality that you’re in so life is going to be a bit confusing. Good thing I wrote this letter to explain, huh? My name is Cyan. I’m the woman you ran into and told you to pick a color to find your soulmate. Yes, that was real, it wasn’t a dream. You’re currently in an alternate universe and your goal is to find your soulmate. Once you do that, you will return back to our reality and you and your soulmate will have the memories from the alternate reality. It’s your job to not only find them in the alternate reality but in our reality as well. This sounds difficult but don’t worry. Fortunately, you and your soulmate are able to meet in your dreams. However, I don’t know the exact details about that so you’ll have to figure them out yourself. Good luck and hopefully we’ll see each other soon!

All the best,

Cyan xoxo

You sit in bed for the next 5 minutes, trying to process everything in the short letter. You have a soulmate? You’re in an alternate reality? And not only that but you’re a teenager again so now you have to go back to high school? And what about your reality? How does time work here? Is this like a Narnia thing where you’re gone for years but return at the exact moment that you left? Or are you there for a week but 10 years have passed when you go back? And what the hell did “Cyan” mean about meeting your soulmate in your-

“Y/N! Are you awake? You’re supposed to leave in 20 minutes!”

Everywhere you turned, people were always talking about soulmates. Was there ever a time that we didn’t ever know who our soulmate is? How are we able to communicate with each other in our dreams? What about the people who don’t actually end up with their soulmate in the end? But you didn’t care about that. Especially in this very moment. Soulmates, in fact, aren’t real at all.

At least, you wish they weren’t real right now.

Because then Doyoung wouldn’t have broken up with you just because he finally dreamt about his soulmate last night. You’d probably be with him right now, watching whatever cult classic movie he thinks you just have to see because you made a comment once about never watching Fight Club during 8th grade. If he hadn’t had that dumb dream, your 2 year relationship wouldn’t be a flaming pile of garbage right now and you wouldn’t have the new drugstore eyeliner that Yejin had recommended to you running down your face.

“Wanna see this video that Xiaojun sent me of his dog?” Kun asks you, effectively breaking the hour of silence that the two of you have been sitting in, the only noise coming from your spontaneous bouts of crying and the videos on Kun’s phone as he scrolls through TikTok. After seeing that state that you were in at school when Doyoung broke up with you that morning, Kun knew that he wasn’t going to leave you alone today. You turn over to face him with a sigh, your head propped up on your hand as you watch Kun’s cousin’s dog run around their living room. But even an overexcited puppy isn’t enough to lift your spirits, something that Kun notices immediately and he frowns. “Listen, Doyoung didn’t deserve you and you know that and if given permission, I wouldn’t hesitate to dropkick him for you. You’ll find your soulmate eventually, and I’m sure they’ll be everything you actually need in a partner.”

You wrinkle your nose at his words; you and Kun have been best friends since you were 5 so it’s weird to hear him saying this cheesy stuff to you sometimes. “That was really nice and I really appreciate that, Kun, but please don’t tell me that you’re about to confess your feelings to me.” You laugh loudly when your best friend shoves you, returning his glare with a smirk as you attempt to smother him in a hug. “I’ll always love you but-”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a good best friend,” Kun rolls his eyes as he goes back to looking at his phone. “Your life isn’t one of those fanfictions you used to read when you were 15.”

“Yeah because if it were, the universe wouldn’t have made my boyfriend of 2 years dump me the day before my birthday!”

That night, you roll over in your bed for what feels like the millionth time. You check the time on your phone again and groan at the late hour, mentally preparing yourself for the exhaustion that you’re bound to feel tomorrow. You wonder if turning 18 will feel any different. Will you dream about your soulmate tonight? Not like you’re too eager to talk to any guy in a non-platonic way but it would still be cool. You wonder what they’re like; what’s their favorite color, what’s their favorite place to go to clear their head, do they like to look at the stars just as much as you do? You feel yourself grow tired as you think about your soulmate and force yourself to not think about Doyoung, your eyes finally closing as you wonder if your soulmate likes flowers.

“Thanks for coming tonight. Want some cake?”

Someone places a slice of cake into your hands and when you look up to thank the person, all you can see are deep brown eyes. Both literally and figuratively; their eyes are very nice but they’re also blurry. You blink a couple of times and squint to get a better look at them but even when they’re standing so close to you, you can’t seem to make out any distinct features at all. You look around at all of the other partygoers and find that you can see them all just fine, so why can’t you see this person?

“My name’s Taeyong. And judging by the fact that you’re the only person in here that I can��t see, I’m going to guess that you’re my soulmate and you also can’t see me. Am I right?” they say to you, and even though you can’t see him, you can tell that there’s a smile on his face.

You stick your hand out and, even though he can’t see you, you smile at Taeyong. “My name is Y/N.”

Taeyong shakes your hand but rather than letting go, his grip tightens ever so slightly and his hand slides across yours to grip it as he leads you away from the spot you were standing in. He takes you outside, the cool night air refreshing on your skin and the moonlight making everything glow ethereally. He sits on the grass in the middle of the yard and gestures for you to do the same, laughing quietly to himself when he sees you looking up at the night sky in awe. You take a seat next time, your eyes never leaving in the sky as you whisper, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many stars before.”

“Do you like looking at the stars?” Taeyong asks.

You nod, your gaze finally leaving the sky above you to look at the boy next to you. “They’re pretty. And they make me feel… seen. The light from those stars, which are most definitely dead by now, travelled millions of light years just for us to see them, and they see us too. I don’t really know how to explain it but looking at the stars just makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.”

“Whenever I visited my grandparents, my grandpa would take me outside and show me all of these constellations using his telescope. Everything I know about the stars and the planets are because of him.” Taeyong goes quiet and you wait. From the way he’s looking down and pulling up blades of grass, you can tell that what he’s going to say next is important. “He died when I was 16. Some drunk driver who couldn’t tell the difference between the road and the sidewalk. I was so sad after he died.” You place your hand on his knee as a sign of comfort, not wanting to push him since you two just met. He lets out a mirthless laugh and you can’t help but smile sympathetically. “I stayed with my grandma for that entire summer after it happened. One night I was using his telescope and I couldn’t get it to focus properly and I just got so mad that I broke it. I cried after that and my grandma found me the next morning, sleeping out in the yard next to the broken telescope. She yelled at me, not because I broke his telescope, but because I could’ve gotten sick.”

“He sounds like a great man,” you murmur. “I’m sure he’s proud of you and that he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

Taeyong hums beside you, the two of you continuing to look up at the stars in silence. “So,” he says loudly to break the silence. “Any sad childhood stories you want to tell me? Since apparently I’ve decided that that’s what we’re going to do the first time that we meet.”

You burst out laughing at that, and even though you just got your heartbroken, you think that having a soulmate won’t be that bad after all. “I think we’re going to have to at least be friends before I tell you all about my traumas.”

The boy beside you gets up and offers a hand down to you, helping you stand up. “Friends?” he asks incredulously. “We’re soulmates!”

“All I know about you is that your name is Taeyong and that you broke your dead grandpa’s telescope while stargazing,” you point out.

You turn to look at him and your breath hitches, finally noticing that Taeyong is completely facing you and is standing very close to you. He takes both his hands in yours and you look up at him, and even though you couldn’t make out his facial features, you could feel his hands in yours and the warmth radiating off of him and that was enough. There’s this inexplicable pull in your stomach that makes you want to move even closer to him and just as you can feel yourself lift your foot up to take that first step, you panic and take a giant step back instead, letting Taeyong’s hands fall to his side.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Did I say something to offend you?” your soulmate asks, taking a step towards you but stopping when you put your hands up.

“You didn’t do anything, Taeyong, don’t worry,” you reassure him. “It’s just that…” You bite your lower lip in worry, wondering if talking about your personal life was appropriate in this situation. But he did just tell you something personal about him- “My boyfriend of 2 years broke up with me today so I’m not looking to rush into anything any time soon. I know that we’re soulmates but I need time to heal and be my own person.”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything for a bit and you wonder if you’ve told him too much. Just as you begin to think of ways to stop yourself from sleeping ever again so you don’t have to see him, he surprises you. “Out of all the people the universe could have put me together with, it just had to be you. I think we’re going to be great friends in no time!”

He holds his hand out for you and you take it, allowing him to lead you back to the party.

When you wake up, the first thing you see are the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Even though they’re nothing like the ones you saw in your dream, you can’t help but think of your soulmate’s grandfather. After a few minutes, you realize that you don’t remember your soulmate’s name or the story he told you about his grandfather.

“Great, so all I know about him is that he likes to stargaze with his grandpa-”

“Y/N, who are you talking to? Are you getting ready for school?”

Your meetings with Taeyong usually consist of you trying to remember at least one thing about the other, hoping that the repetition will be enough to get something to stick when you wake up that morning. The two of you are in Taeyong’s dream tonight (as you usually are since you rarely dream and if you do, usually it’s about someone trying to kill you), walking through a park full of cherry blossom trees with your arms linked together. He leads you over to a bench where you both sit in silence for a bit, the two of you lost in your own separate thoughts.

“So,” Taeyong says to break the silence. “We both leave for university tomorrow.”

You look over at him to find him already looking at you, and even though you can’t see him, you know that you share the same feelings he’s experiencing right now. “I know, it’ll be weird, right? One step closer to being in the adult world and all that. What higher power decided that I’m capable of being an adult?”

Taeyong’s hand brushes over yours and hovers hesitantly before taking it in his own. You let it happen because you know that he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just as scared as you are, so why not find comfort in the person that’s supposed to be in your life forever? You squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms before sighing deeply. Everything is about to change.

Your soulmate hums in consideration, shifting his body closer to you to make you more comfortable. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to college so I can be an adult,” he confesses. “I’m going because I want to get drunk off my ass with my friends.”

You roll your eyes at his joke, sitting up straight so you could playfully shove him. “Oh shut up, Taeyong, you know you’re gonna be the best astronomer out there.”

He shrugs in response, fiddling with your hand in his lap as he looks out at the trees in front of you. “We’ll see. Life is crazy; we might end up somewhere we weren’t even expecting.”

And Taeyong was right. Life is crazy. Yours and Taeyong’s first year at university was hard. You were pursuing a major in economics while Taeyong was pursuing a major in physics with a concentration in astronomy. The two of you were so stressed your first year that you barely got to meet in your dreams because neither of you had any; you just slept. Your lives were: wake up, go to class, do work for the rest of the day, find some time to eat in between all of that, and then sleep just enough to keep you alive.

But you knew that you couldn’t do this for another 3 years. You ended up switching to a major in food science and nutrition with a minor in business while Taeyong switched to a major in plant science. During your time at university, the two of you tried as best as you could to remember where the other went to school so you could try to meet somewhere in the middle but the most you could remember by the end of your third year was that you both go to school in Seoul.

(“You remember that we’re both in Seoul, so that’s good!” Taeyong reassures you one night as you whine about still not being able to meet each other. “We’re one step closer!”

“Yong, Seoul is huge and there’s so many universities here. How are we supposed to narrow it down?” you pout as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his chest.

Taeyong sighs and pats your head, not knowing what else to say because he knows you’re right. But he won’t give up hope; he knows he’ll see you soon. Just as he’s about to answer, the room around you goes dark and you hear the creaking of floorboards above you. He can see the fear in your eyes when he meets your gaze and his heart begins to pound. There’s a loud bang from upstairs and you immediately run out of the building you were in.

“You know, I’m really starting to hate your dreams. Maybe this is why we can’t remember anything, because we’re too busy running for our lives like we’re in a horror movie!”

When you woke up that morning, all you could remember was that he hates being in your dreams.)

By the beginning of your last year, the two of you agreed to stop trying so hard to meet each other. You assume that the universe just isn’t ready for the two of you to meet yet so you might as well enjoy just spending time with each other. Taeyong agrees and surprisingly, it works. You start to remember more and more about him—small things like his dog’s name and that the scar next to his eye resembles a rose—so you start to write them down. You even make a list of things that happen every day that you would want to tell him just in case you see each other that night.

Last night, you finally remembered the recipe for his banana bread, something that took you nearly an entire year to learn. You grab your journal from your desk and write down the recipe, humming in satisfaction when you write down the last ingredient. You read over the other things you’ve learned about Taeyong over the years—his favorite color is pink, he has a dog named Ruby and she is one of the 4 most important women in his life (“Who are the others?” “You, my mom, and my sister obviously!”), he has 4 tattoos—and hear his voice in the back of your head from your first year reassuring you.

We’re one step closer.

You place the finished drink on the counter just as the bell above the door jingles, alerting you to your first customer of the day. “One medium iced caramel macchiato with almond milk,” you announce, holding out a straw and napkin for Kun to take as he walks up to you with half-closed eyes. “Busy night last night?” you tease him as he takes his first sip, laughing when you see his body relax at the first taste of caffeine. “That one’s on me since you look like you need it.”

“Xiaojun had his friends over last night,” Kun complains as he takes a seat at the counter to be near you, tracing the letters of the coffee shop's name that’s on the cup sleeve as he talks. “It’s nice living with him since we’re cousins and all but him and his friends are such enablers. But I beat all of them at Mario Kart last night, so it was worth it I guess.”

You hum in understanding and pick up a towel to clean off the counters, knowing that the usual morning rush would come in soon and you wouldn’t get a chance to clean when it did. “So what I’m hearing is that it’s actually your fault, is that right?”

“They’re enablers, Y/N, I’m telling you!” your best friend protests, his words a bit muffled due to the straw in his mouth as he takes another sip. “They know that I can’t resist playing Mario Kart when I’m drunk!”

“They got you drunk?” you repeat. “I’m starting to think that I don’t even know who you are anymore, Kun. Getting drunk on a Sunday night knowing you have work the next morning? Doesn’t sound like my best friend if you ask me.”

Kun rolls his eyes at you but just as he’s about to respond, the bell above the door jingles (quite violently) and another customer walks in with a “Good morning, Busy Bean!” You look up to find Donghyuck walking towards you, a wide smile on his face and his right hand hidden behind his back.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Kun grumbles, gathering up his stuff as soon as he hears the younger boy’s voice.

You laugh at that, knowing that the only reason Kun dislikes Donghyuck is because he works for the new florist across the street. But Kun’s just funny like that sometimes. He had been the only florist in town and everybody knew about his shop, A Thousand Petals. The place was beautiful and Kun was good at what he did. But then a couple of months ago, the competition rolled in. At least, that’s what it was for him. To you, the new flower shop across the street from you meant nothing other than the fact that they had replaced the burger joint that nobody went to. And let’s just say that Kun didn’t appreciate being surprised with competition on a Monday morning while being handed his daily macchiato. You gave him free coffee for a week to make up for it.

“Bye Kun!” Donghyuck shouts happily, waving to him energetically even though your best friend only grunts in response. He walks up to the counter and reveals what he was hiding behind his back: a bundle of daisies. “Some pretty flowers for a pretty girl,” he says as he hands them over to you.

You accept them with a smile, thanking him as you put them in a mason jar in front of the register. “What’ll it be today, sunshine? The usual?” you ask, even though you’re already punching in the order for 2 iced Americanos.

Donghyuck blushes at your nickname for him and his lovestruck eyes staring at you doesn’t escape your notice. You’ve grown used to the boy’s antics and know that his flirting is meaningless. “Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ as he leans against the counter. “Just a muffin please. And can I get it warm?”

You nod and put in his order, taking his cash and then smiling when you see him put the change in the tip jar. “So why no coffee today?” you ask as you put his muffin in the oven. “You guys find a place better than mine?”

The boy’s jaw drops at this, his posture straightening as he looks at you in shock. “Y/N, how dare you even suggest that. You know that there’s no coffee place better than yours!” He takes one of the flowers from the jar and starts fiddling with it, his smile widening when Johnny, one of your employees, comes out from the back. “Johnny!”

Johnny’s eyes widen at the sight of him and he freezes, his cup of coffee only midway to his mouth. “Damn, I thought you’d be gone already,” he mumbles, the two of you laughing as the boy starts fake crying. Johnny takes out the muffin from the oven and hands it to Hyuck after putting it in a bag. “Thanks for coming to The Busy Bean, we hope to never see you again.”

You push Johnny on to the floor, throwing a towel at his face as you chuckle. “Johnny, stop being mean to Hyuck and go clean the tables before Mrs. Choi complains again about them being dirty.” You ignore his noise of complaint in favor of turning back to the boy still in front of you who’s already started eating.

“His Majesty doesn’t want coffee yet,” he shrugs, crumbs falling from his mouth as he answers your question. “But you know he’s a caffeine addict so he’ll probably send me over during my lunch break.” He throws out the bag and puts the flower that he left lying on the counter back into the jar. “Speaking of which, I should probably head back. See you in a few hours!”

You wave goodbye to him and watch as he crosses the street to the flower shop. Donghyuck is an interesting kid. When you first look at him, you wouldn’t think that he works at a flower shop but you found out he’s only working there for the summer because he starts university in the fall. And his cousin’s the one that owns the place so it was a guaranteed job (“My mom and his mom actually had to convince him to let me work there but you know, I basically already had it.”). Ever since he first walked into your store, he’s been trying to set you up with his cousin, swearing up and down that the two of you would be great together. You’ve always laughed it off though since you weren’t particularly looking for anything and you weren’t about to take advice from an 18 year old.

“Here they come,” Johnny announces, running back to stand behind the counter with you as the morning rush comes in. You notice that the crowd seems to be bigger than usual and you feel nervous; The Busy Bean had just recently gone through some construction and had expanded but your new employees haven’t finished training so they can’t start working until next week. Johnny can tell that you’re nervous and places a hand on your shoulder, and when you look up at him, you see him smiling down at you. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll be fine! We always are.”

When you were in college, Johnny was the first friend that you made. Being without Kun was weird and scary even though he was only a 30 minute subway ride away from you but luckily, the boy living across the hall from you was there to provide you with company. The two of you did everything together—when you weren’t busy with labs and presentations and he wasn’t busy with his research and papers, that is. You even applied for jobs at the Starbucks on campus at the beginning of your junior year, and you were pretty sure the manager would have fired the both of you for always goofing off if you weren’t his best employees.

But the day that you knew he was going to be in your life for a long time was when you finally told him your dream of opening your own coffee shop. It was something that only Kun knew, too embarrassed to tell anyone else after your parents had told you that it would never happen. Johnny had surprised you that day, promising to be your first employee once it happened. You watch him from your place behind the coffee machine, watching him talk to Mr. Park from the restaurant that the two of you always go to with a smile on his face. Aside from Kun and your store, Johnny is all you have and when he notices you staring at him and makes a face at you, you thank the universe for putting him in your life.

“I have returned!” Donghyuck announces when he walks into the cafe, true to his word about returning during his lunch break. Behind him is a man who looks to be only a few years older than him with hair the exact same color as coffee foam. You’ve never seen him before but Hyuck apparently knows him as you watch him drag the older boy up to the counter. “2 medium iced Americanos please,” he says to Johnny in a cute voice, pouting when the man behind the register denies him his order with no emotion in his voice.

“Where’s your manager? I need to tell her you’re being mean to me,” Hyuck says as he sticks his tongue out at Johnny. You walk over with their coffee and place it down on the counter with a laugh, bumping Johnny with your hip to get him away from the register.

“Maybe Johnny wouldn’t be mean to you if you didn’t try to annoy him every time you’re here, sunshine,” you tease him as you take his money. Johnny hands them straws and napkins, making sure to stick his tongue out at the teenager in retaliation. You shake your head at him when he sees that you notice. You’re surrounded by children.

“Oh, this is the owner of The Busy Bean by the way,” Hyuck says to his cousin, smirking when he notices a blush beginning to form on his cheeks. “You know, the girl that you said you think is cute when you first saw h-”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” the older boy greets you very loudly as he cuts off Donghyuck, reaching out to shake your hand with blazing cheeks. “I’m- Uh- I-I’m TY.”

You shake his hand as you stifle a giggle, finding the blush on his face cute. Donghyuck on the other hand does nothing to hide his laugh, just narrowly avoiding an elbow in his side from his cousin. “Nice to meet you, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware that I would be in the presence of royalty today otherwise I would have rolled out the red carpet.”

“I wasn’t aware that, uh, you have such a nice smile,” the florist compliments you, making you smile as you thank him. “Your teeth are pretty,” he blurts out and you feel your smile falter as you process the compliment. Your teeth are… pretty? Johnny and Hyuck attempt to stifle their laughter at the man’s outburst, the man in question turning red as a tomato when he realizes what he said to you. He slowly starts to back away, pulling Donghyuck by the back his shirt towards the exit as he stutters out, “U-Uh I mean- S-Sorry that was weird- You uh-”

“Watch out!” you warn him, noticing a customer looking down at their phone pushing open the door right into his back.

TY lets out an ‘oof!’ as the door hits him, stumbling forward and tripping over his own feet to regain his balance. The coffee in his hand wasn’t so lucky however, spilling all over the floor and some of it even getting on Hyuck’s white shoes. The two of them quickly rush over to get napkins, TY sputtering out apology after apology as he cleans up the mess on the floor while his cousin whines about the coffee on his new shoes. You quickly get to work on making him a new coffee while Johnny deals with the new customer.

The pair quickly exit after you give TY his coffee, and you’re able to hear Hyuck saying, “I’m telling your mom that you spilled coffee on my new shoes. Also who the fuck calls you ‘TY’, why didn’t you just tell your name like a normal person? I can’t believe I’m related to-” before the door closes.

“Do you think that guy’s ever gonna come back?” Johnny asks you after the customer had left, gesturing towards the flower shop.

You can see Hyuck dancing in the middle of the store while the owner laughs and you can’t help but smile. You wonder what his laugh sounds like. “I hope so.”

As you’re getting ready for bed that night, you open up the notes app on your phone to read over what you wanted to tell Taeyong about in case you saw him tonight. Even on slow days, you usually have at least one or two things to tell him, but tonight you find it empty. You hadn’t thought about him all day.

Taeyong surprises both himself and Hyuck when he decides to go back to The Busy Bean only a week after what his cousin likes to call The Incident™ (he even says “trademark” out loud, what a weirdo). The man usually isn’t one to be this brave but he can’t deny the pull that he feels towards you. You’re cute, you have a nice laugh, and he wants to make you smile again. And your iced Americanos are unmatched. Starbucks who?

Walking into the cafe, he immediately feels his hands start to sweat at the sight of you. Your hair looks extra shiny today and you’re dancing along to the song that’s playing with Johnny (kind of badly, but it’s pretty cute). Taking a deep breath, he repeats the simple order in his head one more time. One medium iced Americano, one medium iced caramel coffee, and 2 cake pops. (“If I don’t get to go, then you have to make it up to me somehow!” Hyuck protested when Taeyong told him to watch the store while he went to get coffee. So cake pops it is.) When you see Taeyong walking towards the counter, you give him the biggest smile and he swears his heart skips a beat. He knows he’s going to end up with Y/N eventually but wow, this girl sure knows how to take his breath away.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” you greet him, your cheeks still slightly pink from your laughing and dancing. Taeyong notices a daisy tucked behind your ear and he realizes that it’s one of the daisies that he had shoved into Hyuck’s hands and told him to bring when he went to the store just last week. The man feels his heart skip a beat at that; you look like a goddess. “Didn’t think we would see you back here so soon. Our red carpet is at the dry cleaner’s unfortunately.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Taeyong shrugs, playing along with your teasing. “I get treated better here than I do at my own shop anyways. Hyuck won’t stop bringing up last week to literally everyone we know.” He blushes when he brings up the events of last week but he feels immensely better when you laugh. “Thank you for replacing my coffee by the way. I can pay for it now since I left so quickly last time.”

“That one was on the house,” you say, waving your hand in the air. “Anyways, what can I get for you today?”

Taeyong makes sure to come back at least twice a week after that, much to Donghyuck’s dismay. Each time he comes, he has to force himself to go back to his own store rather than staying and talking with you and Johnny. He finds himself growing more and more comfortable with your presence, his words coming more easily to him the more he’s around you. The conversation even turns flirty at some point, something that he didn’t even think he was capable of since graduating college. Sure he’s had a few lay it on pretty thick with him when they come into the store but middle aged women aren’t exactly his type. You are more his type, if he’s being honest. You and his soulmate, Y-

“Your name is Y/N?!” Taeyong all but squeaks out, his voice cracking as he drags his eyes from Johnny to you. Could you be…?

Both you and Johnny blink at him, not understanding where this sudden outburst came from. “Uh yeah, why? Is there something wrong with that?” you joke as you continue to make his drink.

Taeyong mentally shakes it off, subtly rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the unnecessary excitement he just felt. It’s probably just a coincidence. The universe seems to like mocking him, apparently. There’s no way he would just randomly find his soulmate like this. He couldn’t even remember where she ended up living after graduating college. “It’s nothing,” he says while shaking his head, giving Johnny a small smile as he hands over his cash. He notices the withering daisies in front of the register and makes a mental note to bring some fresh ones next time. “I’ve just always liked that name. I think it’s pretty.”

When you first created The Busy Bean, you hadn’t thought of incorporating flowers until Kun brought up that you had said you wanted to make it stand out from other cafes. That and the fact that the store’s name is based off of “a busy bee” and that, in the words of Kun, “your best friend just so happens to be the owner of the best flower shop in the city.” Unfortunately for you, your best friend and the owner of the best flower shop in the city won’t be around for an entire week because of a family emergency. And because of the store’s recent expansion and being so busy with training all of your new hires, it had completely slipped your mind to order new flowers for next month’s theme. When you had said all of this to Johnny during a lull in the morning rush, all he said in response was, “That’s rough, buddy.” (The two of you have been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender together recently.) What a great best friend.

After making sure that Johnny and the new hires knew exactly what they would be doing during the closing shift, you take a deep breath and do the one thing that you know Kun will never forgive you for once he finds out. “He’ll forgive you, you have no other choice,” you whisper to yourself as you cross the street towards Bloomin’ Love. You open the door and are greeted by the fresh smell of flowers, a Yiruma song softly playing in the background and fitting the atmosphere perfectly as the setting sun shines golden light into the store. It felt like you had entered a magical world.

“Welcome to Bloomin’ Love,” Hyuck greets you, not even looking up from his phone as he leans against the front counter. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“I don’t think your boss would be very happy if he found out that you were using your phone while there’s a customer in the store,” you tease him as you walk up to the counter, laughing when Hyuck scrambles to hide his phone and looks up with wide eyes.

The boy’s shoulders immediately deflate when he sees that it’s just you, placing his phone in front of him as he smiles at you. “Y/N, I didn’t think I would ever see you in here. Did you and Kun get into a fight or something? Did he finally get mad that you’re ‘fraternizing with the enemy’s cousin because I’m trying to get you to fraternize with the enemy’?”

You shake your head, explaining, “Kun’s out of town, he has no idea that I’m here right now. I actually need to talk to TY, is he here? I have a big order because I need new flowers for The Busy Bean next month.”

Donghyuck nods as he points towards the back, an area that you assume is restricted to customers since it’s behind the counter. “He’s in his office right now. Let me just tell him you’re here really quickly.”

He walks away quickly before you even have a chance to nod, so you take a look at the flowers around the shop. Directly behind you are bouquets of roses but what really strikes your interest are the magnolia flowers and plum blossoms along your left. You lean down to smell them, their floral scent overwhelming your senses and making you feel even calmer than you already did.

“Plum blossoms are one of my favorite flowers,” a voice says from behind you, making you jump and bump into whoever it was. You feel hands on your waist that help steady you as you sway on your feet, your eyes coming up to meet those of the man you were looking for. “Sorry about that,” TY chuckles, the tips of his ears pink as he withdraws his hands from you. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Donghyuck said you’re looking for me?”

You nod frantically, before explaining your situation to him, his eyes never leaving you as you talk. “I usually give Kun complete creative control because I don’t know much about flowers and which ones bloom during which season.”

TY nods understandingly, humming as he thinks and scans over the various plants in the store. “Flowers that only bloom during spring…” He begins to walk around, with you following a few steps behind him, his hands hovering over the flowers and his fingers occasionally brushing over their petals as he looks at each one carefully. TY suddenly stops in his tracks, one hand resting on a peony before he suddenly turns to you with a wide grin on his face. “I think I have some ideas.”

The florist brings you back to his office, and you think you see Hyuck wink at the both of you as you follow his cousin to the back but when you get a closer look, the boy’s already assumed his previous position of scrolling on his phone. As of recently, the teenager has been teasing you more and more for what he assumes are the beginnings of feelings for his cousin. And even though you swear up and down that the two of you are just friends, you can’t help but think about the possibilities some nights. Which makes you feel guilty because what about Taeyong? Your dreams with him have felt different lately, both of you distracted at one point or another, the conversation becoming awkward at some points because the both of you know that something has changed. Is this the universe testing you? Putting a man that you feel yourself growing more and more fond of with every passing day just to see if you’ll reject him in favor of the partner that it has chosen for you?

“Y/N?” the florist calls out, his hand waving in front of your face to get your attention. You jump slightly in your seat, eyes meeting his after you’re pulled out of your thoughts. “You still with me? I asked if you could give me a floor plan or something of where you put all of your flowers.”

“Oh sorry,” you apologize, heart pounding in your chest at getting caught zoning out. You pull the floor plan that you and Kun had first made 2 years ago and hand it over to TY, your eyes tracing the veins in his hands as he smooths out the paper on his desk. His hands look like they would be really nice to hold. Wait what? No, stop, think about Taeyong.

TY shares his general thought process with you, lightly drawing circles and arrows on the paper to show you where he pictures bunches of hyacinth and jasmine would be. Names like Barberton daisy, dogwood, azalea, and peony are mentioned while you nod along enthusiastically, not really knowing what any of them look like but trusting the vision in the man’s head completely. As he’s talking, you can’t help but get lost in the sound of his voice, the passion and flow of his words making your heart swell. As guilty as it makes you feel, you couldn’t help the feelings that you could feel blooming in your heart for the florist.

The two of you stand once TY is done sharing his ideas and you’ve run out of questions to ask. You force yourself to leave rather than think up an excuse to spend more time with him, his laughter paired with the way he looks at you dangerous for your pounding heart and overly imaginative brain. He says goodbye to you with a wave but not before handing you a business card with the store’s number should you have any more questions. As you’re walking out, you can hear Hyuck teasing his cousin, and when you turn around to spare TY one last glance, you can see a blush on his cheeks as he quickly looks away, as if he was caught staring.

Just before you get into bed that night, you take one last look at the business card that you had been given just hours ago. When you read the name on the card, you feel as if time itself has come to a stop. Your breathing turns shallow as you bring the card closer to you, squeezing your eyes shut and then opening them just in case it was some weird trick of the light. But it wasn’t. Right there on the card is the one name that you weren’t expecting at all.

Lee Taeyong.

It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a-

You feel yourself being pulled down into the water, a hand wrapped around your ankle dragging you down to the bottom of the pool. You kick with all of your strength at the invisible attacker, your lungs screaming for air as you thrash in the water. A pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you out of the water, the person screaming at you to stand as they tug on your arm. Coughing your lungs out, you can just barely make out Taeyong’s blurry form as he runs out onto the empty street with your hand in his.

Suddenly, an SUV with its lights on appears behind you, the driver revving the engine and accelerating very quickly towards the two of you. You just barely dodge it, the vehicle only inches away from Taeyong’s body as you pull him towards a dark house. You climb over fences and run through yards, neither of you daring to say a word in fear of whoever is after you being near. Your hand stays in his the entire time, too scared of getting separated to let go.

You see a light approaching you and duck behind some garbage cans, willing your breathing and heart rate to slow so that you could listen for any footsteps. Taeyong quivers beside you in fear, his hand squeezing yours and when you look over at him, you can only imagine how scared he must look right now. Looking at him, you realize that there was something you wanted to talk about tonight but with every single nerve being on edge since you’re, you know, running for your life, you can’t remember what it is for the life of you. Lights from the SUV pass by, gravel crunching underneath the tires as the car goes by you very slowly. You pray to every higher power out there that they don’t catch you and you release a quiet sigh of relief when you see the car turn and drive farther away from you.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate being in your dreams?” Taeyong murmurs, his grip on your hand loosening but still not letting go. “Because I really hate being here right now.”

You huff out a laugh before slowly standing up to brush the dirt off of you. Just as you’re about to respond, you feel a hand clap over your mouth, Taeyong’s eyes widening as he screams and reaches out for you. Something sharp presses against your back just as you hear a gunshot, blood quickly soaking into Taeyong’s pants from getting shot in the thigh, before everything goes black.

You have to stop yourself from looking over your shoulder every 5 minutes because of the intense nightmare that you had yesterday. The feeling of being watched lingered with you all morning, something that Johnny noticed and was concerned about at first until you told him the reason you were acting so paranoid and jumpy. Then he just ended up teasing you and even scared you in front of a customer, falling on the floor laughing when it happened. But you couldn’t help it, the dream just felt so real and it didn’t help that Taeyong, an actual person, was there with you to make it seem all the more real. You wonder how he must be handling it, you know he’s not the biggest fan of horror movies or scary things in general.

You decide to visit Bloomin’ Love during your lunch break, the questions that you wanted to ask Taeyong still unanswered. But if you’re right and Taeyong actually is TY, then you would get your answer in a few minutes. Except it turns out that you won’t be getting your answers today.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” you ask Hyuck in disbelief, even looking towards the back to check if the office light is on in case he’s just playing a joke. “He’s your boss and one of the two people that work here, why are you here and he isn’t?”

The boy shrugs before hopping up to sit on the counter, long legs swinging as he bops along to the music that’s playing from what you assume is his own playlist. “He was here when I got here this morning but then he left after an hour and told me he’s taking the rest of the day off because he’s been feeling anxious all morning. Something about having a nightmare last night? It must have been really bad for him to take a day off because you and I both know that this store is basically his baby.”

He had a nightmare?

The bell above the door jingles as a customer comes in and immediately approaches the two of you to ask for help. You back away to let Hyuck do his job, bidding him goodbye before heading back to The Busy Bean. Hyuck’s words swirl around your head, the conversation replaying over and over as you take out the business card that you put in your pocket this morning to look at the name printed on it.

Taeyong. Lee Taeyong, the owner of Bloomin’ Love. Lee Taeyong, who introduced himself to you as TY. Lee Taeyong, your soulmate.

After that, you become distracted during work, your eyes constantly looking at the clock to see how much longer until your shift is over. Of course the one day that you find out who your soulmate is, the one day that it would be super convenient to be able to leave work early, is the day one of your new workers can’t come in because they got food poisoning the night before. You don’t even know what you’re going to do once your shift is over though. The number on the card is the store number and you already know that Taeyong isn’t there. Maybe you could just ask Hyuck to give you his number? But then what? What would you even say? “Hey TY, it’s Y/N. Hyuck told me that you had a nightmare last night so I think you might be my soulmate”?

The universe, however, seems to have your back. At the end of your shift, just as you’re saying goodbye to Johnny and Jaemin, one of your new hires, you hear a very familiar voice call out your name. And when you turn around, there stands the exact man that you’ve been hoping but not expecting to see all day. You can’t help but smile widely when you see him and nod when he asks if you want to sit.

“These are for you, by the way,” he says as he gives you a small bouquet of pink forget-me-nots. “Pink is my favorite color but they reminded me of you when I saw them in the store just now.”

You thank them as you take the flowers from his hands, inhaling deeply before placing them down on the table. “You were in the store? Hyuck told me you took the day off.”

“I stopped by just to make sure he didn’t burn the place down,” TY chuckles and he sounds… nervous? Looking at him, you notice that he’s barely making eye contact with you, taking more interest in tracing the tattoo of a lavender plant that’s on his inner forearm. You wonder if he knows what you know, or at least what you think you know. You wonder if maybe he’s even known this entire time.

“Do you have a soulmate, TY?” you blurt out, too impatient to indulge him with more small talk.

He looks up at you with wide eyes at your question and you watch as the tips of his ears turn red. “I-I do,” he responds while nodding simultaneously.

“What are they like?” you ask him, telling yourself to calm down and to make sure that you’re right. It would be really embarrassing if you aren’t.

“She’s the girl of my dreams,” he jokes, laughing loudly when you groan and roll your eyes at his dumb joke. “She really is though. She’s really smart and knows exactly what she wants from life. She’s extremely hard-working but she also knows when she needs to stop and relax. She really likes strawberry cake and also likes stargazing. I actually tried making a move on her when we first met because I was young and dumb but then she told me that her boyfriend of 2 years had just broken up with her, so I felt extremely stupid that night.”

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest at his words and you know that you must have a funny look on your face because TY- no, Taeyong is looking at you strangely. “What about you?” he asks, his wide eyes and head that’s tilted slightly to the side reminding you of a puppy. “What’s your soulmate like?”

You laugh and take a deep breath, mustering all of the courage to pour all of the love you’ve been wanting to show Taeyong all these years into your words. “He’s the best, honestly, I’m really lucky that he’s my soulmate,” you say softly, your eyes not once leaving Taeyong’s as you speak. “He’s really goofy and not at all afraid to be who he is. He’s very supportive too; Johnny and Kun were always there for me when college got hard, especially when I switched my major, but it was his words that always kept me going. His favorite color is pink and he absolutely adores his mom, he swears up and down that her kimchi jjigae is the best in the entire world. When we first met, he-”

You stop to look at Taeyong and you see tears in his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he listens to you talk. You take a shuddering breath and lift your hand to gently take his hand in yours; he knows. “When we first met, he told me about his grandpa and how his love for the stars came from him.” You see a single tear cascade down Taeyong’s cheek and you reach out to wipe it away. With a watery laugh, you say, “He also told me that he ended up breaking his grandpa’s telescope after he died.”

Taeyong rests his forehead against your joined hands as he laughs, his eyelashes wet with tears and his eyes shining when he looks back up at you. “I finally found you,” he whispers in awe. “After all of these years, the universe finally put you right in front of me and I didn’t even know.”

“That day, when you said that you think my name is pretty,” you say, his words playing in your mind as you remember the day you’re talking about, “did you know?”

“I was suspicious but I thought it was too good to be true,” Taeyong says as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I thought that there was no way that the girl I’ve been dreaming about for 6 years just so happens to own the coffee shop across the street.” He raises your hands to his lip to kiss the back of yours and you feel so happy that it feels like you’re practically vibrating in your seat.

You’re about to respond when you hear Johnny call out, “Hey lovebirds, keep it PG! There are kids in here!” The two of you turn your heads towards the direction of his voice to find not only Johnny behind the counter but also Kun and Hyuck standing there.

“Did you forget about our plans, Y/N?” Kun calls out teasingly, a smirk on his face as his eyes flicker from your hand in Taeyong’s to your face.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, head turning to look at Taeyong with wide eyes.

He smiles at you reassuringly, kissing the back of your hand once more before letting go. “I’ll call you later?”

You nod enthusiastically, the two of you exchanging numbers before you stand up. You look up at Taeyong, not yet wanting to leave his presence. You can feel the warmth radiating off of his body and there’s a familiar pull in your stomach and this time, you allow yourself to indulge in it. He leans down just as you lean up, and as cliche as it is, it really does feel like you’re the only two there when you kiss. Taeyong tugs one of the flowers from your grasp and breaks off part of the stem, tucking the forget-me-not behind your ear and rubbing your cheek with his thumb before pressing one more kiss to your forehead and murmuring a “see you tomorrow” against your skin.

Waking up the next morning, you let yourself indulge in thoughts of yesterday, the events leading up to the kiss replaying in your head and making butterflies erupt in your stomach all over again. You and Taeyong had agreed to go on your first date today after work and you wish that someone could invent a time machine so you could just skip the work day and go on your date already.

You sit up in bed and feel every ounce of happiness drain out of you, your surroundings unfamiliar to you. The walls are still the same color but the books on your shelf are different, your floor is carpeted, and who the heck are those people you’re with in the pictures on your wall? You even look out the window to find a completely different view. Where the hell are you?

It suddenly hits you that you’re back in the real world—or your reality at least. The past 8 years have basically just been one long dream. You jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom to check to see if there were any visible signs of aging. You let out a sigh of relief when you realize that you still look the exact same and go back to your room to check the date on your phone just to confirm. There’s an envelope with your name on it beside your phone and you feel a sense of déjà vu as you rip it open.

Dear Y/N,

Welcome back! Hopefully you’re not too disoriented after returning to our reality but I wrote this letter just in case. It’s only been a day since we first met so don’t worry, everything in your old life is still the same as it was. It’ll take a few days for memories from your life here to resurface so just take it easy for now. You should still have your memories from your alternate universe and your soulmate should have them too, so all you have to do is find them! I know this sounds hard but don’t worry; as I’m sure you already know, the universe works in mysterious ways~

See you soon, Cyan xoxo

You let yourself plop back down onto your bed, giving yourself a few minutes to process everything before taking a deep breath. Taeyong. You have to find Taeyong. Getting out of bed, you decide you get dressed and get ready for the day, a memory of your friend Yuna telling you about the new cafe across town resurfacing, so you decide to go there. You feel too cooped up in your apartment, you need to do something.

Passing by the window of the cafe, you can’t believe your eyes when you see Cyan sitting at one of the tables. She smiles at you through the window while lifting a mug in greeting and you rush to enter the coffee shop, your hands shaking at your side as you approach her. “Good to see you, Y/N,” she greets you, standing up just as you sit opposite her. You’re about to stand as well before she gently pushes you back down with a hand on your shoulder. “These are for you,” she says as she hands you a small bouquet of pink forget-me-nots. You look down at the flowers, memories of the past 8 years (yesterday?) overwhelming you but you shake it off and look up, only to find Cyan gone. You look around frantically but it’s like she disappeared, completely vanished in thin air as you look around the coffee shop and even out the window. With a huff, you put the flowers on the table and settle your chin on your hand as you wonder what to do next.

“Are you finished with this?” an employee asks you as they point at Cyan’s empty coffee mug.

You look up, about to answer, when your breath catches in your throat, your eyes meeting very familiar brown ones that widen at the same exact time as yours. Before you stands Taeyong, a brown apron with the words “Wake Up Cafe” embroidered on it in gold tied around his waist. Standing up, you reach out to grab one of the flowers and break off part of the stem before slowly reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. His hair is different, a little longer and a dark grey color with bits of silver rather than the light brown that you’re used to, but you see the rose-shaped scar beside his shining eyes and you feel like you could cry. Taeyong’s hands cup your face and his thumbs come up to brush away tears that you didn’t even notice, the distance between your lips and his slowly decreasing.

His lips brush over yours and his eyes flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Found you.”

You chuckle at his words and close the distance, and you wonder if springtime feels just as good for the blooming flowers as the love that you can feel blooming in your chest when you kiss Taeyong.

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ragdollrory · 3 years ago

Text

20 Fic Writer Questions

Thanks for the tag, it's been forever since I've done one of these!!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

60 works in total.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

220,400 words.

A nice number! Not that big perhaps, but for about two years I mostly RP'ed, so there's a lot more words there for me to put up on Ao3.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

5 fandoms.

ATLA, TLOK, VLD, HP, SK8 and Given

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Because I love you (Kyalin): 260 kudos

2. Come back to me (Kyalin): 125 kudos

3. Now that I found you (Sheith): 120 kudos

4. Kosmo duty! (Sheith): 119 kudos

5. The Prince and the Blade (Sheith): 111 kudos

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I answer every comment, but sometimes it will take a while for me to do so.

On average, I have 3 jobs and run various accounts (some for other people) so I usually wait the comments out a bit, and answer in like 70-100 comments batches, or else I'll never get anything done.

But I love comments, I read them all, and I get stupid happy whenever I get them.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I mean... that is posted?? I don't know, Miscalculation is MCD, but also She who lives in the mirror is pretty heavy, and it took a lot out of me.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I'm going to say Kosmo duty! but I honestly couldn't decide. I guess my readers should decide that, and if anyone wants to tell me which one they think ends the happiest, then I'd love to know!!

8) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I ADORE crossovers!! I don't know about craziest, but I'll leave the two I'm most proud of, which are:

Her fire - a Voltron Legendary Defender meets Avatar the Last Airbender fic, which I'm insanely proud of, and anyone that reads it will have a special place in my heart forever.

Hold my hand - Harry Potter crossover with Avatar the Last Airbender, which is angsty, but lovely, with a hopeful ending.

(Both of them are basically me being in love with Azula)

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I have gotten hate on anon asks on Tumblr, both for fic and RP, and recently I got a pretty shitty comment on a Harry Potter drabble that I uploaded to Ao3 from a Tumblr ask.

I've always deleted them without interacting, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

People, if you don't like it, no-one is forcing you to read it, least of all to comment. Don't be shitty, and let everyone have their own fun!

10) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have. I've written hate sex, and dub-con, some voyeurism, guided masturbation, idk, varied stuff... the thing is, I'm not good at writing smut on command, so it's very, very little compared to the angst, hurt/comfort and fluff that I have going on.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a Kyalin translated to Chinese, and I'm good friends with the girl that did it now!

I also have an irl friend who doesn't speak English (my first language is Spanish) who uses the google built-in translation to read my fics, and I've checked it out to see if it was too awful, and it's not the best, but at least it keeps things pretty accurate. She also asks me if something doesn't sound quite right.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have an ongoing series called What's in a Word that was started with my RP partner, and I guess RPing is also co-writing a story, so yes.

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Linko, always. Bumiroh, OTP. Sheith, an addiction.

Idk, it's impossible for me to pick one, I'm a multishipper for a reason, hahaha

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have faith that I will be able to finish all my WIPs, because I try to stay as positive as I can about everything. However, I do understand that sometimes readers are anxious or eager to know what comes next, but authors can't push the fic forward at the time.

So for those who might be reading WIAW, if you happen across this, I ask you to be patient. I love that verse, and I'll get to it, but Lin and Mako deserve me at my best to give all of you something of quality.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Angst. I thrive in pain. Probably love too. I think I can write a good painful yet love-filled fic. Very tragic.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not particularly happy with my setting descriptions, but I'm also not sure I want to change that. Like, if you read one of my fics you'll realize I usually describe the bare minimum of a room, or house, or whatever place. I don't like it, I don't feel comfortable talking about the vase in the corner table, and I think readers do a much better job of filling those blanks while I squeeze their hearts with my hurt/comfort.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I say people can write whatever they want.

Would I appreciate it if they took the time to make it work? Yes.

I think the most that I've written in another language (including my own) is like three Spanish sentences in a silly "possession" twitter thread, and a few words here and there in Japanese, mostly for honorifics.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I wrote a very dark HP fic, that will never see the light of day, and I admit I have also written a Twilight fic that has been reduced to ashes.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I can't choose one, but anything that has Azula in it. Honestly, like, if you ever want to make me happy, read my Azula stories, I have poured my entire life there.

Tagging: @firelxrdsdaughter @linguini17 @chiefbaefong @watercaressesearth

And whoever sees it and wants to do it, you're tagged!

#tag thingy #about me #love these!!

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tinycrow · 3 years ago

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I don’t believe in miracles

Chapter 2: Discovery

:: Unknown Location ::

It had officially been half a decade since Mission City. The autonomous robotic organism and caretaker named Ray was no longer finding ‘babies’ that were sparked by the entity known as the All-Spark. She hoped that this was because she had collected them all, rather than the babies dying off or being otherwise ‘acquired’ by another agency. With no real reason to risk being seen, she spent most of her time raising the sparklings at her home base. This was fine, she thought. She enjoyed seeing her sparklings grow to become upstanding workers in what was now a bustling, little city.

There were massive infrastructure changes that had been going on since the events in Egypt. There were 5 major underground tunnels that stretched across their territory. 3 of five tunnels led to an underground bunker that would hopefully protect any humans/non-humans that needed to wait out an attack on their fair city. It wouldn’t survive a direct hit from a nuclear explosion, but it was placed in such a way that it would hopefully not be targeted. It would keep warm and safe any occupants for a couple years. Other than the bunker, the tunnels provided a warmer route between buildings in the city, especially for humans. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for non-human residents to take up the role as “taxi” for other, smaller friends aboveground.

Because of this shift in foot traffic, non-humans were able to speed through the streets, rarely having to stop. Street racing was becoming a problem in recent years, to Max and Ray’s chagrin. There had been ongoing talk of incorporating bigger ‘bots into Max’s team in order to better police the streets, but ‘bots reaching near Ray’s size tended to be rare, considering how young all the other ‘bots in the city actually were.

There were also more places in the city to just hang out as well as enjoy food and drink. The greenhouse now sported a nice café as well as a plethora of flowers and other plant life.

“Okay. We’re going for a drive.”

“It’s... cold out,” Ray lamely refused, shoulders hunching slightly as she sat at a desk to read reports on her large data pad.

“It’s always cold out. We live in the freaking An-“

“I’m busy.”

“I know for a fact that you’ve already read through the security and finance reports. The rest can wait.”

“My babies-“

“-Are being taken care of by a team of now fully-trained humans and ‘bots. Besides, you don’t usually attend them at this hour anyway. We won’t be gone that long.”

Ray was silent and contemplative as she stared downward at Linda Davies, her long-time friend. Back when she was still roaming America, the red-headed woman had been one of her only companions, worried only about helping them both survive the next day. Linda was the one to suggest the novel idea of creating a place to call their own in a place outside the jurisdiction of any opposing government. It was a crazy idea from a possibly crazy friend, but then again, Ray’s life on Earth wasn’t sane from the very start.

Linda glared back in defiance. “You need a break. Enjoy some sunshine. Talk with friends.”

The ‘bot contemplated arguing with Linda more. They both knew, however, that Ray would be going with Linda. With a sigh, Ray put away the data pad and stood.

“Inside the city, or...?”

“I’ve got my eyes on someplace warmer.”

:: California, America ::

It was a much different experience, driving at a sedate/normal pace along with the rest of human-driven traffic. Ray didn’t mind it, but Linda seemed peeved as she shifted irritably in the front passenger seat. Perhaps she was too hot? Ray checked the temperature of the cabin and found it to be at a comfortable level with her cooling unit already on. Maybe she wanted some music? She pulled a playlist from the internet that seemed pretty popular.

Linda’s mood barely improved.

“What’s wrong, Linda?”

“I hate traffic.” She grumped, “How about... we stop for coffee and then drive farther from the center of town?”

The holoform in the driver’s seat frowned in thought.

“I guess... Though I feel less safe the farther from the ground bridge we are.”

“We won’t be long.”

An hour passes, and the two friends were driving along into the California countryside with the windows down and a coffee in Linda’s hand. Music was blaring from Ray, pulled from various sources as well as internal storage. They didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the feeling of being on the road again.

“Ah, I missed this,” the not-so-young woman said nostalgically, “I love our home, but I wish we had this kind of scenery, you know?” Linda griped with a smile.

“I agree. California’s nice. Actually... Earth is very nice.”

Linda smacked the dashboard lightly, causing the holoform to flicker out for a millisecond. The black-haired and green-eyed holoform grimaced with a small admonishment.

“Sorry. But you talk like you weren’t born here.”

Ray seemed to pause at that. “I suppose it is weird.” She hummed, and explained, “Sometimes it feels that way, you know? Being so different from the literal billions of humans that populate this planet.”

“And your time... before you changed?”

“Well...” The holoform exhaled harshly, “I lived a pretty lonely life. Other than the times I would help out local charities, nothing really made me happy. I’m pretty satisfied with where we are now, and I want to continue working in making life at home better for all of us. For all our kind.”

It was Linda’s turn to be thoughtful. She slowly formed the words, “You really want to open our home to the aliens.”

“Yes.” The answer came subdued but serious.

A familiar car turned onto their road.

The radio turned off.

“Linda, don’t be alarmed.”

Said woman’s back straightened. “Okay, we’ve gotta talk about ways to deliver bad news. What’s wrong?”

“That car behind us... is one of the aliens we were discussing.”

Linda looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the silver sports car quickly gaining ground on them.

“Fuck no, he don’t.” Linda looked at the holoform of her friend, very displeased expressions on both their faces, “Can’t you go faster?”

“That depends. Are you going to throw that coffee away?”

“Is this really the time to worry about— “

“THROW IT.”

“OKAY!”

The coffee cup went sailing out the window and into the dry, yellow grass. The moment it hit the ground, Ray’s engine revved and her speed started steadily but quickly climbing. Because the road was fairly straight most of the way, she wasn’t worried about having to suddenly turn 90 degrees.

~ Ray and Linda to Shawn and Max. Linda and I are being followed. I need an emergency ground bridge. Are either of you at the console? ~

~ Shawn, here. I’m not, but I can be. Where are you, Sunshine? ~

~ Ray. We are in the California countryside. I don’t want to lead them back to the warehouses. Max, are you— ~

There was a huff of exhaustion as Max chimed in. ~ Max. I’m at the console. Send your coordinates. ~

Ray sent her coordinates as well as those of the car behind her. She told them how fast she was going.

Max swore. ~ There’s no way you can slow down, but if I send a ground bridge, you’re going to be a pancake on the building wall. I’ll look up exits. ~

Linda, hearing the conversation in her earpiece, gained a look of grim revelation.

~ Linda, here. I know none of us want to consider it, but we may need to fight. ~

Max was dismissive of the idea. ~ There are many reasons that won’t work. For one, they’re much more skilled at fighting than we are. There’s also the fact that they may be getting backup, while we don’t have anyone to backup Ray, unless we use the children— ~

Ray’s hackles rose at the thought, and she interrupted, ~ You are not sending my children after me. ~

Max sighed, sounding like he’d heard this, many, many times before.

~ I wasn’t going to. Look, there’s a gentle turn coming up, if you can pull a miracle and lose him, I can send a bridge to Point A. ~ Max sends Ray coordinates to a nearby farm.

~ Or to Point B. ~ He adds a new pointer further away.

~ Keep me apprised. ~ Max said, finally.

Ray affirmed the decision and planned. Knowing Linda would not approve, she kept it mostly to herself. She turned off the holoform, wanting to reserve processing power. It caught Linda’s attention.

“Ray?”

“Do you trust me?”

Linda narrowed her eyes at the dashboard, hearing her voice echo throughout the cabin.

“Do you trust me?”

~ Prime, that strange, unknown Cybertronian appeared again. They appear to have a human with them. I’m following them. ~

~ The human must be returned unharmed. Send your coordinates and we will block their escape routes. You are not to attack while they have the human. ~

~ Understood. ~

Ray took the gentle, right turn with slightly less speed but fully screeching tires. She would not let her friend come to harm. If this was to end in a confrontation, she would see her friend home, safe and sound with her people.

The dilapidated barn designated as Point A was coming up fast, and she swerved violently as she skidded to a halt, kicking up a massive storm of dust and dirt. She popped the door open. Linda jumped out, expecting a fight to happen. Just as expected, Ray transformed into her bipedal form, stance loose but looking vaguely like she was ready to fight.

~ Lin’, run to the barn and get that bridge open. ~

~ On it! ~

As the dust cleared, Linda had disappeared into the barn. Ray stepped cautiously forward, wanting to put distance between Linda and the other ‘bot. The silver car drifted in, transformed, and pulled out their blade all in one well practiced movement.

“Release the human, Decepticon, and I will let you live.”

Ray attempted to stall for time. “Not even a hello? A name? I’m afraid you got me at a disadvantage, sir.”

He stepped forward predatorily. She took a hesitant step back.

“Don’t play games with me, ‘con.”

~ It’s open! Hey, Max, wha—hey! Let me go! Ray! ~

Ray cut the transmission with some guilt, and opened a silent communication with Max.

~ Thanks, Max. ~

~ You realize the consequences of what you’re about to do, right? ~

~ I do. I leave my fate in your and our council’s hands. ~

“Well?”

Ray raised her hands slowly in surrender. With determination and serenity, she watched as a semi raced up to his comrade and transformed into bipedal form beside him. She blinked her optics at the new weapon pointed at her.

“I am no Decepticon.”

Sideswipe sneered, “Likely story. What were you doing with that human, then?”

“We were enjoying coffee and a drive through the California countryside,” she said calmly, and at the looks of disbelief, she clarified unnecessarily, “Oh, she was drinking coffee. I find no nutritional value in it.”

“Where is the human?” Optimus asked, getting back to the crux of the matter.

“Oh, back home I’m assuming. Max came by to pick her up.”

“Who is Max?”

“He’s chief of security for a rather large community of people. Are you going to arrest me, officers?”

Optimus gave a look to Sideswipe. Sideswipe resisted grumbling and cautiously approached the possibly deranged Ray, who had yet to draw a weapon.

“You are to follow us to an extraction point. If you deviate from the course, we will be forced to subdue you.”

“Alright, if you insist. Don’t stare at my bumper, I’m quite shy.”

The two mechs stared at her, and then glanced at each other.

‘Taking them off guard would be more fun if I wasn’t so terrified for what the future holds,’ she thought, and she thought of the children she probably wouldn’t be seeing in a very long time. She thought of the danger they could be in if things didn’t go well.

She focused on the details of the two mechs in front of her, hoping to ground herself, and pushed her fears down. She followed one mech and was in turn followed by the other.

A pacific Ray sat, essentially blinded in most senses, in what seemed to be a place for general storage. They had temporarily cut off her sight and other various sensors, leaving her with hearing and what was the robotic equivalent to touch. She had guessed that her captors did not have a designated holding area for non-human prisoners (a brig), and to keep their own secrets safe, deemed it necessary to take these precautions. She tried to be mad about it, but a large part of her understood; the Autobots and the humans associated with them were looking for Decepticons, and most Decepticons would rather die than be taken prisoner. Shuddering in fear, she admitted being blinded and constantly guarded wasn’t the worst that could’ve happened to her.

She sang a slow, crooning melody to pass the time and ease any anxiety.

Watching nearby were a pair of cold, blue optics that shuttered briefly at the sound. Memories from long, long ago of similar songs sung to them as a youth slipped into their awareness. The owner of these blue optics resisted the feelings of compassion and sympathy that threatened to take them off guard.

In a room far from the femme’s prison, the Autobots (barring one) were in a serious discussion.

“The femme certainly doesn’t act like any Decepticon I’ve seen,” Ironhide admitted.

“And of course, there’s no insignia showing which faction,” Sideswipe said, “Though she did run when she saw us. That’s enough cause for me.”

Optimus rumbled in thought, “Ray associates with humans. For most Decepticons, that would be beneath them.”

A human soldier also piped up, “What about her eye colour? Don’t they usually have red eyes?”

“The colour of one’s optics do not necessarily mean anything. Many Decepticons you have seen may have had red, but there have been those on our side with red as well. Hers are green, which are rarer, but it does not hold any specific meaning,” Optimus explained for the humans’ benefit. “Ratchet, what are your thoughts?”

“The femme has been compliant in every procedure taken to secure her as our prisoner. She has no internal weapons system, however she willingly offered information about her subspace storage containing a rifle, which I have disabled access to as well.”

No internal weapons? Not even a blaster? What kind of warrior disables themselves by not acquiring a proper weapon, especially in a war? The room erupted in chatter.

“Quiet.” The Autobot leader ordered, and then urged Ratchet to continue.

“I have been analyzing the unique radiation that she emits and can come to no conclusions yet. I will note however, that there’s something familiar about it.”

“Familiar, how?” Optimus inquired curiously.

“I cannot say for certain,” Ratchet demurred.

“Keep me updated,” their leader acquiesced, to which the chief medical officer just nodded.

In a quick private comm with Ratchet, Optimus asked, ~ Might I assume you do not want to broadcast whatever it is that is ‘familiar’? ~

~ You are correct. The radiation emitting from the Femme seems to react uniquely with the materials immediately surrounding her. On a molecular level, they are... moving unnaturally. ~

This news surprised Optimus, as this ability was something entirely new. ~ Could it be a new weapon? ~

~ It is hard to say. However, it’s familiar to one of the abilities of an entity we all know of and have lost. ~

~ ... We will talk about this later. ~

~ Indeed. ~

“For now, we will keep her under constant guard. Ratchet, you will continue studying her. All of you are to report any suspicious behaviour. If that is all, you are dismissed.”

One week after capture...

She heard a particular set of footsteps approaching and looked up with a genuine curve of her dermas (lips). She recognized those footsteps that had been visiting her almost every day since her capture. She greeted him sweetly.

“Ratchet.”

Ratchet didn’t bother hiding his pleased expression, knowing she couldn’t see.

“You can leave,” he told the guarding Autobot.

Arcee’s optics shuttered and opened again slowly in shock. “Ratchet?”

“Don’t worry, Arcee, she’s not going anywhere. But I technically count as her guard while I am here,” he explained, “so let me work in peace.”

Arcee, aware of Ratchet’s legendary temper, took the out as she saw it gracefully. “Alright. I’ll check in with you in one earth hour.”

“See you later, Arcee!” Ray smiled at the air, not quite sure where Arcee was as the femme was light-footed or on wheels? It was hard to tell.

When Arcee left, Ray turned to where she thought Ratchet was. A puzzled look and an inquiry were sent up to his left shoulder plate, “Is there a reason you sent her away?”

Ratchet settled himself in for a long conversation. There was the squeak of metal compacting slightly as he assumingly sat down on a crate. Ray was already sitting on the concrete with her legs tucked to the side. Her back strut straightened in attention as this event was different to the quiet study and offhand questioning he usually does. Though Ratchet had been nothing but gentle—if grumpy at times—with her, she wondered if that was about to change. Her spark quickened in a small niggling of anxiety.

It must’ve shown in her expression, because he quickly said, “You’re not going to come under any harm in my care, I assure you.”

Ray relaxed slightly, but still had her doubts as she asked, “Is something the matter?”

“I’ve been talking with Optimus and we both agree that it’s time to consider long term plans for your stay here. You have proven yourself to be non-hostile as well as open to our prodding at you and your radiation field. Such good behaviour does not warrant what could be considered torture by sensory deprivation.”

She simply stared blindly at him for a second before slowly admitting, “It would be nice... to see whom I am talking to.”

It only took around 15 minutes to re-enable the appropriate sensors, and he was being intentionally slow and careful. The first thing she saw was thick, yellow-plated servos. When they pulled away, her green optics were wide and bright as they took in the much taller mech. He was sitting, but by her estimates he would probably be at least 5 feet taller than she was. She vocalised a high whistle and winked.

“Cheeky brat. I bet you and Bumblebee would get along just fine.”

Ray took a moment to look at one of her kind captors. She knew the aliens were well armoured and gunned; she had seen it on the day of her capture. However, even the kind medic that had been in her company for days now seemed alarmingly well built. Subconsciously, she pulled her legs up to her chest, in the foetal position. She never liked conflict, but she understood why good people fought. Once upon a time, she was a fighter too, before The Change. But those were weaker foes compared to the aliens she faced now.

“There’s something else we’ve been meaning to talk to you about. You constantly assure us that you are not a Decepticon, but none of us recognize you, nor do we see any mark of affiliation with us.”

She was silent for a while. Ratchet seemed to wait patiently as she seemed to deliberate, optics tracing a path on the ground. The black-armoured femme seemed to come to a conclusion and faced him with a brave speech.

“That is because I am neither a Decepticon nor an Autobot.”

Ratchet didn’t seem surprised by her answer. Truthfully, Optimus and he had been speculating on this ever since she came into their custody. It was hard to believe, but it was the only explanation that fit. The Neutrals had been exterminated early on in the war. This faction was mostly made up of ones who could not or would not fight for one reason or another. They usually had a hard time making a living, and Decepticon raids would eventually become the reason that no Neutral was thought to be alive to this day.

If Ray was a Neutral, it would explain her behaviour towards humans and conflict with either of the opposing factions.

It didn’t quite explain away the radiation that caused nearby molecules to dance almost excitably in her vicinity, or the way she could put you at ease in her presence—a feeling of protection and unconditional love. There was just something missing from this explanation that Ratchet needed to figure out. He had asked specific questions before, but hopefully this time she would willingly answer.

“What colony are you from?”

His question was met with silence. Ratchet withheld a sigh of disappointment, but something in his demeanour must have changed. She saw his disappointment and immediately felt guilty.

She wanted so badly to tell the truth, but it couldn’t be helped. Her people had rights to their privacy and security. She hadn’t gotten communication from the council indicating it was okay to share that information—Ratchet didn’t know but she had easily repaired the severed wires in her antennae. Anyway, it was doubtful that the council would ever agree to open their city to the Autobots, because she knew the humans were afraid. She wished that the time they spent in her and her babies’ presence would ease some of that fear, but it was still not an easy decision to make. She could only hope her feelings reached the people she loved and trusted.

Ratchet tried a different angle, “When did you arrive on earth?”

Ray’s optics, formerly gazing guiltily away, snapped up to Ratchet. This she could technically answer. Her voice was soft but sure as she answered.

“Sometime in the 80’s. But I didn’t start travelling until the late 90’s and didn’t find a place to settle until... the Mission City disaster.”

He thought on this for a bit. It was a bit telling when the femme would be forthcoming with all topics except for where she came from and where she was staying. It made him wonder if there were more Neutrals hiding somewhere.

“Who was that travelling with you when we found you?”

With a pang of anxiety, Ray cautiously revealed, “Linda. She’s a good friend of mine. She... gave me a home.” It was as close to truth as possible. Linda didn’t just give her a home but had helped build it.

“Is there a way we can contact Linda?” He asked, and seeing her wariness, he continued, “If you were happy with her before, I’m sure Prime would let you return as her guardian.”

Ray visibly struggled with herself. There was distress at wanting to be open about her home—she was so proud of what she had helped build—but wanting to respect her people’s wishes. Something in her rattled, and her dentas clenched reflexively.

“I want to... but I can’t... I can’t... It’s not safe... We do not trust...” Her processor stuttered through the many things she wanted or needed to say but was scared of divulging. It created a loop she could not break herself out of.

Ratchet’s servo braced itself on her shoulder, and her continued stuttering petered out. His voice was consoling as he assured her that the Autobots did not mean her or any friend of hers harm, that they had promised to protect humans from the Decepticon threat. The rattling of her mechanical parts somewhere in her quieted, and she took in and vented out air harshly in a very human gesture of recovery.

“There you go. Easy now. You’re safe.”

He tried to pick up the conversation afterward, but her continued silence was worrying. Did she not feel safe here? Granted they took precautions to protect the base’s secrets, but she had not shown any negative effects of the treatment until now. He would speak with Optimus about improving the conditions of her stay here.

Three weeks after capture...

It had taken a lot of arguing, but she was finally allowed to—under strict supervision and great limitation—to ‘step’ out of the storage room. Though, to protect the secrets of the existence of Cybertronians, she was only allowed to be in vehicle mode, and it would be in the evening when most of the day’s work was done. Perhaps they were afraid of spy satellites seeing their bipedal forms. With her sight restored, she took the time away from the constant interrogation to simply enjoy the sunshine and the sound of waves nearby. She drove circles or figure 8’s around her guard as well as objects to exercise her precision driving. She even asked her guards about stunts like wheelies, which the amused Autobots agreed to teach her in the limited time she had outside.

Inside the storage room, she would turn into bipedal mode to work her joints, cables, and pistons. She would contort herself in all the ways she knew possible before she grew bored. Sometime during the middle of the day, Ratchet would come along to poke, prod, or ask her things. Very rarely did she ever see Optimus Prime, the Autobots’ leader. When she asked once, she was told he was very busy dealing with the human government and their liaisons. It wasn’t explicitly said, but it was obvious to her that the human government wasn’t happy with the Autobots’ continued stay on Earth.

Though Ray did her best to keep the secret of her little city, she could see that the Autobots were beginning to piece together little things she had been saying (or hadn’t remembered saying). They brought up what she said when Sideswipe and Optimus first cornered her at the abandoned farm, about Max and Linda, about the mysterious warehouse that was obviously just a warehouse and nothing to be suspicious about—

She wasn’t very good at this secret keeping business. Ray supposed it was inevitable that a race so much more experienced than she would start to figure it out, and she only hoped that her people would forgive her.

1 month after capture...

Not much changed over the next week, except she obviously gained some level of trust with the Autobots and was involved in less discrete conversations more. Perhaps they had figured out her secret already. They avoided telling her what they thought, so she wasn’t sure.

It was a little over a month when she got a communication from Max, who obviously spoke for the council in this matter. The break in the comm silence ever since her capture took her so off guard, that she froze in the middle of an interrogation. When asked what was wrong, she was too shocked to formulate the words she needed to say, and instead asked to be given some time alone with her guard.

It took her two hours to gather her courage, but she asked to meet with Optimus and Ratchet, stressing that she wanted them alone or she wouldn’t reveal anything. After the agreement was secure, she tried to secure the area against listening devices or humans, using her powers discretely to do so.

It was time.

#my fanfiction #I don't believe in miracles #transformers #greyscales

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

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K SIDE: PURPLE 03

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

* Chapter 1 * Chapter 2

Days go by.

The summer afternoon to hear Higurashi's voice, the long autumn night to sweep away the golden fallen leaves, and the winter morning when the breath was white and cloudy, Yukari spent nothing.

No noticeable change occurred. Yukari only went up one age and one grade, and other than that, he continued the same daily routine.

In the same days, he sometimes remembered Taka-san's words. He is sure that one day he will find something that appears to be "it." Unfortunately, that "someday" has not yet arrived. Yukari wasn't even sure if it would come. In his eyes, there are more people in the world who don't have pretty things.

Will I ever be such a person? Vaguely thinking about it, as he passes his days.

Beautiful things were found because of the garbage.

The man was crouched in a pile of garbage bags and was screaming loudly.

Yukari looks at him with cold eyes.

It was summer, in the morning. Sayuri's claim that cleaning the front of the store is Yukari's job, and that the morning sun will be very strong the next day after drinking a lot of sake, has caused Yukari to get up early.

The morning in the bar is not pleasant. This is because the morning light cruelly reveals the various ugliness that the darkness of night has gently hidden. Scattered cans and bottles, pools of spit thrown by someone, a flock of crows poking them, and a drink with no front and back.

He liked to see people getting drunk, but he didn't like to drink. Drinking alcohol and exposing yourself is completely different from being drunk and exposing yourself to ugliness. He doesn’t even want to see it, like blacking out and sleeping on the street.

However, it cannot be cleaned without moving. Yukari sighed and crouched down

"Uncle? Are you alive?"

There's no answer. The man simply repeats humming. Mishakuji called again, confirmed there was no answer, then stood up and yelled back.

A minute later, Mishakuji returned with a bucket full of water in his hands. As it was, he threw it in the man's face without any consent.

"Wow, what is that?"

A bucket of water was very effective. When the man jumped to his feet, he turned his black-and-white eyes and looked around. Yukari looks at him and says clerically.

"It's annoying that they sleep in front of the store. Please sleep somewhere else."

"Um, sorry, boy."

The man suddenly looked back at Yukari as he rubbed his wet beard.

"No, are you a girl?"

"I'm a guy."

"Well, boy. I'm sorry. I was so hungry I thought sleeping would calm me down."

The man's belly rumbled.

"That doesn't seem to work. Hahaha."

Yukari shook his head slightly at the face of a laughing man.

Looks like he hasn't had a drink. Certainly there is no liquor left on his face or on his breath. As the word goes, he probably slept here just to avoid starvation.

"Please wait a bit."

After leaving the man, Yukari entered "Hanawarabe". Sayuri, who was washing herself, asks mysteriously.

"Ah? Have you finished cleaning yet?"

"Sister, you had a surplus of baguettes. Could you please take it with me?"

"Okay, but what? Are you going to feed the pigeons?"

"Something similar."

When he returned with the baguette to where the man was, he was standing up and growing. Yukari involuntarily stopped and looked at the man.

It was big. Was he close to two meters? The body wrapped in dirty work clothes is full of muscles and looks like a giant old tree. He doesn’t feel intimidated by that habit, perhaps due to the fuzzy atmosphere that reminds you of an awake cat.

Seeing Yukari return, the man softened his eyes.

"Sorry to bother you, boy. I'm leaving now."

"Here you have."

Saying that, Yukari offered a baguette. The man rolls his eyes.

"I will give it to you."

"Eh?"

“I thought it was annoying and you were drunk, so I covered you with water, but it was my mistake. I apologize for that. If you are hungry, please eat it."

The man repeatedly compared the baguette to Yukari, and then smiled a lot on his big face.

"I can't take it! I'll take it, boy!"

He raised his hand and thanked him, and the man snatched a baguette from Yukari. It's as big as Yukari's arm, but it flattens out in no time. After swallowing every last piece, the man hit his belly with a "Bread!"

"Um! It's a bit short, but it was good! I'm thankful!"

"You are really hungry."

“I have not eaten anything in the last three days. I hold a grudge against my uselessly large figure. I'm hungry, even though I'm not doing anything."

Yukari looked at the man. The man notices the line of sight and laughs like he's shy.

"No, I'm sorry. You were in the middle of cleaning. Thanks again. Then I'm going."

When he bowed with his large bent body, the man turned his back on Yukari and started walking.

Yukari calls out to his back.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

Interestingly, the man turned around. After getting lost for a moment, Yukari asks.

"What's your name?"

The man blinked only once, then turned to Yukari correctly,

"My name is Isshin Hase. You took care of me, boy."

When he smiles, he calmly walks away.

While cleaning the front of the store again, Mishakuji rebels against his actions.

Why do I ask your name?

There are many homeless people in "Niibangai". Some also know their names. However, that man named Hase is a "foreigner". It comes from a place he doesn’t know and goes to a place he doesn’t know. He had never cared about the name of a human, but why did he care?

It was disconcerting, but no response was given. Anyway, he will never find it again. If so, it is useless to think about it. He forced himself to say it, and Mishakuji dismissed that idea.

However, that did not happen.

++++++++++

"Eh? Mishakuji-chan, did you run out of Jinjaeru?"

Sayuri, who was looking inside the refrigerator, said that about 10 minutes before the store opened.

Yukari, who was in the backyard, quickly checks the inventory before answering.

"I guess so."

"Oh, sorry. I was so busy that I forgot to manage my inventory..."

Sayuri grunts as she scratches her head. As he returns to the store, Yukari...

"So why don't you get it from "Massive Boys"?"

"Massive Boys" is a gay bar run by Taka-san. It was a lot like "Hanawarabe", and when something like this was missing, it was a relationship of mutual compatibility.

Sayuri clasps her hands and says with a gesture of adoration.

"Well, can you please? You don't have to hurry."

"Okay, I’m going."

Meanwhile, Yukari left the store.

As the night wore on, "Niibangai" was booming. Yukari is walking in the everyday landscape, out-of-tune voices are heard in the shops here and there, swarms of drunks crossing their shoulders, foreign tourists taking pictures of the atmosphere in the alleys, etc. Walk steadily.

At that moment, an angry voice was heard and Mishakuji paused for a moment.

Being a city of bars means that there are many drunkards and drinkers.

Regardless of the former, the latter is often off the label of reason. Cursing is a frequent occurrence and often turns into a fight. Sayuri also told him not to come near if there was a lot of commotion.

To make matters worse, it seemed to stem from Yukari's fate.

“It's crazy, right? Get out!"

He hears such a scream from the open door of "Massive Boys". The drunks who pass by on the street look at him for a moment and leave as he is. Nobody wants to get in trouble. Neither did Yukari.

However, the next voice he heard turned towards Yukari against the flow of people.

"Hey, calm down. You see, drink some water."

It's Taka-san's voice.

Anger intensifies even more at the voice that tries to calm.

"Oh, don't touch it, this is crazy! Yeah?! Hey, are you listening?"

"Look, it's a nuisance to other customers. Let's talk about that in the back?"

"Hey? I'm on the table! Not only did the face get worse but the ears too?"

Tangled, two men came out of "Massive Boys". One is Taka-san, a muscular man in a dress. The other was a man wearing an open-necked shirt and a dark blue jacket.

"Hey! Hey You are listening? Hey!"

The man was clearly irrational. His face is red and black, his eyes are sunken, and he may be drunk. Taka-san keeps smiling while getting hit by the man many times. It is probably because he knows that in this place you can only solve things calmly and calming the other party.

However, the man was furious even with that smile.

"What the hell are you laughing at?! How many times do you think I'll kick your ass?"

Taka-san's expression turned cloudy for the first time at that strong voice.

"Hey. That's..."

"You're stupid? Is it the same for others? Not well!"

He seemed to be anointing himself with the fire of his anger. The man hit his fist on Taka-san's nose, swelling his blood vessels.

"Ugh..."

"If you don't like it, it's the end! We are!"

The man pressed harder on Taka-san's upper body, who was suddenly hit and recoiled. Taka-san's huge body shuddered, and he stabbed his bottom against the wall.

The drunks stop in the midst of the manifested confusion and form a circle at a great distance.

In it, the man slowly drew a knife.

"I will. Hey. I will!"

Taka-san doesn't move like he's frozen. He is looking at the gleaming knife with an incredible gaze. The other spectators, like this, don't even scream, let alone stop him. The moment he seems to have stopped, the man stumbles a step.

Yukari stood in front of him.

"What? What is it, kid?"

Yukari is not scared by the murderous look. Taka-san, who crouched behind him, made a hasty voice.

"Mishakuji-chan? What are you doing?! Go away!"

"I do not like."

Yukari doesn't look back. However, he was looking at the man in front of his. Gently look at the red-black puffy face, liquor-stained neck, and irrational eyes.

"You are not beautiful."

He just said that.

The meaning of the word was not transmitted to man. Still, the intention was conveyed. Hate and contempt. He put enough anger into the hand holding the knife to cross the last line.

Yukari just looks at the knife that swung up.

Even if the blade stopped just before touching the eyebrows, he was still looking at him without closing his eyes.

"Great courage, boy."

When he turned his eyes towards the voice, before he knew it, a large work clothes was standing right next to him. Yukari muttered inadvertently.

"Hase-san?"

When their eyes and Yukari's met, Isshin Hase smiled a big smile.

"Oh, do you remember?"

"What the hell is that?!"

The man screamed with black and white eyes. It is not surprising. A giant about six feet tall, who shouldn't have been there until just a second ago, put his belt aside and stopped his hand holding the knife on the edge.

Hase looked at the man. The smile that floats in the mouth takes on a fierce tone.

"Me? I am…"

What happened in the next moment was an unforgettable and lifelong event for Mishakuji.

The ubiquitous belt magically moved in Hase's hands. Hase did all that movement in just half a moment, moving the knife, lifting his jaw, and thrusting at his throat.

"Guh..."

Unable to even raise his voice, the man stabbed into his knee. The knife slides out of his hand and makes a click.

Staring at the fallen man with wide white eyes, Hase leaned on his shoulder and said.

“Miwa Meishin style, master. My name is Isshin Hase. If you have any complaints, always come to me."

Yukari's eyes burned at everything that had happened.

Yukari saw a sinking step, a fluid hand and amazing strength lurking between breaths.

Things I've never seen before. He has never touched it in his life, it is his hometown.

"It’s beautiful."

That was it.

#k #k project #k fan clan #k side purple #mishakuji yukari

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rufousnmacska · 4 years ago

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Secrets and Confessions Part 5

A Crescent City Ruhn-Hypaxia fic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

*****

Part 5

*****

Ruhn was in the process of sorting through a pile of probably useless tech when the knock came at his door. Expecting Bryce, he yelled, “No one’s here.”

The door opened to reveal Tharion Ketos, wearing a tailored suit and a smug grin.

“Fuck,” Ruhn grumbled. “What the fuck do you want?”

Ketos walked in as if he owned the place, pulling out a chair and taking in the room with curious eyes. The books on the seat were moved to the desk, atop a precarious stack of papers. “Hello to you too. Do you always swear so much?”

“All the fucking time,” Ruhn said, not bothering to return the greeting. He left the junk and turned to face Ketos. “Who let you in?”

“Your band mates.”

“What?”

Ketos wrinkled his brow. “Aren’t you three in a band or something? The way you all dress made me think-“

Ruhn growled. “What. Do. You. Want.”

The mer held up his hands in a peace offering and leaned back in the chair. “I’m here to discuss some things.”

“This better be Aux related because if it isn’t, I’m throwing your ass out.”

“Well I’m in luck because it is about your Aux unit.”

He hoped Tharion couldn’t see the disappointment on his face. He’d heard nothing from Hypaxia in the last few days. And he was too much of a coward to contact her, even though his control was eroding. He was embarrassingly close to calling her. Signaling for Tharion to go on, he sat on his bed, willing himself to concentrate.

“How many of your Aux unit would follow you?” the mer asked. “Hypothetically. Rough numbers.”

“To overthrow the asteri? Or to overthrow my father?”

“Both.”

Ruhn barked a laugh as Ketos was apparently done with the bullshit. He held the male’s sharp gaze as he thought about it. Just a few weeks ago he’d wanted to be involved with the rebels. Had even considered this very question, on many occasions. His Aux unit was comprised of the best of the Valbaran Fae. The strongest and smartest. All of them would follow him against the asteri.

Against his father though …

“Are they mutually exclusive?” He didn’t give a shit about his father. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to lead a coup either.

“Not necessarily. If you can suggest a way to do one without your father becoming an equally bad replacement, I’m all ears.”

“Shit.” He really didn’t need to say anything else. The rebels might not know the extent of his father’s plans, but they had to have a good idea. They’d be idiots to not have a plan for the power vacuum if they were successful against the asteri.

Tharion stood and straightened out his suit jacket. “You can think about it. Let me know.” He headed for the door, and just as Ruhn was about to break and ask about her, Tharion said, “She wanted to tell you. Since the Summit. I know you understand why she couldn’t.” He made a vague gesture in reference to the ever-present cameras and recordings throughout the city. “And I know you understand that it was for your safety as well as for ours. Now, I can’t speak to anything personal between you two. But Hypaxia is the last person in the world to manipulate someone. Even for this cause. She’s the moral compass of the operation. And if you can’t get over whatever bullshit betrayal you’ve concocted in that pierced head of yours … Well, I guess it’ll be your loss.”

Ruhn said nothing as Tharion opened the door and started out. But the mer wasn’t done. With a wink, he said, “Your loss might be my gain.” And before Ruhn could throw something at him, he shut the door, yelling back, “Call her you fucking idiot!”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “What the fuck just happened?”

A buzz came from his phone and he rolled his eyes. The evening check in.

Did you clean your room yet?

For fuck’s sake Bryce. What’s with this obsession about cleaning?

It’s a good distraction when you feel like shit. Believe me. I know.

The truth in that made his annoyance fade. And made him feel bad for wallowing in self pity for so long. She’d survived much worse than a break-up. Considering where they’d been less than a year ago, barely speaking, fighting when they did … He smiled, glad that she was hounding him.

He sent her a photo of the progress he’d made, which he thought was pretty good. She disagreed and told him to get back to work.

As you wish your highness.

Don’t fucking call me that.

Ok your highness.

If you keep it up I’m coming over to supervise.

He sent a princess symbol with a heart. The heart always worked to end her tirades.

Laying back on his bed, he stared at his phone, wondering if he should take Tharion’s advice.

Tomorrow, he thought. After I straighten some shit out.

In the meantime, he went out into the hallway and shouted for Flynn and Dec. They came up after getting rid of the drunk fae and shifters they’d had over. Luckily, Dec was stone cold sober, and Flynn was close enough.

“How many from the unit can we trust?” He didn’t need to go into more detail. They knew everything he did about his father. Hel, they knew everything about him.

Everything except the truth about the Oracle’s prophecy. Which now seemed like it might be a good thing. If ending the bloodline meant ending the threat posed by his father, then Ruhn had no problem with his destiny. He’d proudly sacrifice his title if it led to a meaningful peace for Midgard.

His fingers itched to call Hypaxia and tell her exactly that.

But just then, Dec began rattling off names. Tristan nodded along, a far off look in his eyes that meant he was planning. And so Ruhn began planning too.

*****

The room was much emptier than Hypaxia had been expecting. Instead of a table surrounded by all the upper echelon rebels and their seconds, a lone figure sat at the far end. There wasn’t a single ashy blonde hair out of place on Jesiba Roga’s head, and her eyes were as unforgiving as the sharp edged nails she tapped on the table.

“You’re early,” she said by way of greeting. Hypaxia almost let out a breath of relief, thinking that meant there would be more coming. But the witch had seen, or sensed, her reaction and said, “It’s just us today.”

Sitting a fair distance away, she said, “I was told the full group would be meeting. Did I receive incorrect information?”

Jesiba didn’t answer, just took a drink from a glass that held a golden brown liquid. It looked like scotch, but Hypaxia didn’t know for sure. And she wouldn’t, as the witch didn’t offer her anything, alcohol or otherwise.

Hypaxia was tired. Already tired of the political bullshit required not just in her role with the rebellion, but as queen. Technically, regardless of what she’d renounced and who she now claimed to serve, Jesiba was one of her subjects. Hypaxia wasn’t stupid enough to order her to do anything. But for Cthona’s sake the witch could show a little respect. If not to her queen, at least to another person.

The grin that twisted Jesiba’s mouth made her remember where she was. Remember her place. Queen or not, she wasn’t in charge here. But she’d be damned if she played the good little witch to this sorceress.

She suddenly thought of Ruhn, realizing his fondness for cursing had rubbed off on her. Ignoring the pang in her heart, she returned Jesiba’s smile.

“I assume you are aware of the various prophecies at play here,” Jesiba said, the unspoken “girl” successfully conveyed in her condescending tone.

Refusing to be baited, Hypaxia simply said, “I am the Witch Queen.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Which means you’re aware of what role your lover is to take. Or, is it former lover? I’m afraid I haven’t kept up on the state of your affairs.”

Wanting to roll her eyes at the stupid double entendre, she let it and the insult go. “Of course I am aware. That is why I want him recruited.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

Jesiba ran her finger around the lip of her glass as she studied her. It made a wavering, melodic sound that left Hypaxia thinking of Ruhn again, and his sensitive hearing. She’d never considered herself a good singer, but he adored her voice. Whether she was speaking or singing, humming or moaning, he would sometimes close his eyes in appreciation.

“The union of the sword and blade is not something to be left in the hands of the fae. The Autumn King is a fool if he thinks otherwise.” Jesiba’s brusqueness tugged her out of the soft memories.

“The Prince is not a fool. And he is not a minion of his father.”

Those cold gray eyes were like shards of ice and Hypaxia felt her skin prickle. She knew Jesiba was skilled in all kinds of power. Witch magic as well as whatever ghastly practices she’d learned from the Under King. But Hypaxia had been taught by her mother, by the wise, old witch elders, and by the other ancient beings hidden in their mountains. Jesiba’s attempt to enter her mind would not work.

“I have nothing to hide Ms. Roga. Why don’t you just ask me your questions and we can both return to our work.”

The witch smiled that knife-like grin again, giving off a fleeting look that Hypaxia thought might be admiration. At her ability to keep Jesiba from shuffling through her thoughts or her bluntness, she wasn’t sure.

After another drink, Jesiba said, “Danaan is necessary. I don’t like it, but he’s necessary. As critical to our goal as his sister.”

At the mention of Bryce, Hypaxia caught another quick expression on the witch’s face, like that of a parent worried for her child. She’d seen it often enough on her own mother’s face to recognize it.

Jesiba continued. “Mirrors of the starborn siblings begot by Theia. Both of Theia’s daughters inherited their mother’s power, but not equally.”

Hypaxia wanted to argue that Ruhn had more to him than met the eye, perhaps even his own eye. But she didn’t. Those powers were his to wield. His to understand and develop. He’d kept them hidden for a reason and it was not her place to reveal them.

“Bryce is the horn,” Hypaxia said, knowing the prophecies as she’d already stated and hoping to shorten Jesiba’s lesson. “She will open the rift so we may dispose of the asteri and then seal it.”

“It’s not quite that simple.”

The previous disdain in Jesiba’s tone had returned. Her own annoyance bubbled close to the surface. Hypaxia knew damn well that it wasn’t that simple. The asteri were ancient, immensely powerful beings. “So why is the prince necessary? Beyond the sword?”

“The sword isn’t his.”

That stopped Hypaxia and she couldn’t help the shock that settled on her face. “What do you mean? He pulled it from the stone in Avallen.”

“It calls more strongly for Bryce. For her starlight.”

She held Jesiba’s icy stare, thinking, remembering the prophecies and the visions she’d just claimed to know. Running through all the arcane knowledge passed on from her mother. When it hit her, she felt her eyes widen. And saw another brief look of approval cross the witch’s face.

“He is the blade,” she whispered.

The approval disappeared as fast as it had come. Sorrow, genuine and unexpected, met Hypaxia’s gaze now.

Despite all her training, this had been a detail left unexplained. Either unknown by her witches, or unspoken.

The blade did not truly exist. Not literally. It was a metaphor. And like Helena’s sister, Theia’s lesser known daughter, the blade was to be the sacrifice.

Prince Pelias had killed the younger sister himself with the Starsword, joining her fractional amounts of starlight to his own to ensure the rift was sealed.

Jesiba had known.

“I am sorry to be the bearer of such news,” Jesiba said, having the grace to continue looking sorry.

Hypaxia sat, silent and unmoving. Ruhn was to die for this rebellion to succeed.

She’d been under no illusions that most of them, or even any of them, would survive this. She wasn’t foolish. And yet, she’d allowed herself to fall in love with him. Let him become such a huge and necessary part of her life, that she didn’t want to imagine her life without him.

“He knows,” she croaked. “About the rebellion. He caught me meeting with Tharion and he overheard …” She trailed off. Jesiba wasn’t reacting. Which meant she’d already heard about it from Tharion. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

“Against my better judgment, I like you. I will never recognize you as my queen, but … I am pleased that you are leading the witches.”

Hypaxia didn’t reply, not sure if the admission was a veiled slight against her mother.

“Hel,” Jesiba went on with a harsh laugh, “I even like Danaan. You two are a good match.”

“Then why? Why refuse me every time I asked to bring him in?”

“I should think that is clear. Though, maybe my reputation has outgrown itself. I may be a coldhearted bitch, but I’m not entirely heartless.” After a pause, she said, “I knew you were growing close to him. Even if his role in this won’t be borne out for several years, making you live with that knowledge was not my first choice. With the loss of your mother still fresh, I didn’t think you should have to deal with another death.”

Another death.

Unbidden, a memory of her mother consumed Hypaxia. It was from shortly after she’d been diagnosed with her illness. Queen Hecuba didn’t look sick, which made the news harder to bear. And she didn’t seem concerned about the death sentence she’d just been given. Instead, she was calm and cool, like always, smiling at her daughter.

You will get through this, her mother had said, insisting on comforting others instead of seeking it. There will be worse to come. More battles to fight. But you will prevail. And at the end, you will not be alone.

At the time, she hadn’t considered that what her mother was saying might be prophetic. But now, she knew. It had been a vision. And while the words seemed vague, to a witch’s ears, they were anything but. From a mother to a daughter, the deeper meanings were obvious.

She blinked to find Jesiba still staring at her. Still examining her. There was no attempt to probe her mind again, just genuine curiosity. And anticipation.

“That’s not going to happen,” Hypaxia said forcefully, expecting some sort of dismissal. But Jesiba just smiled. What Hypaxia had once seen as contempt on the witch’s face, she now saw as respect. It was still that of an elder towards a student, a superior to an inferior. But it was there, genuine and appreciated. And it made her sit a little straighter.

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Jesiba said. “Bring him in. And do whatever the Hel it takes to get around that damn blade prophecy and make sure he lives. I’ll get you access to all of my resources.” Seemingly without thinking, Jesiba added, “You’re not the only one who would be devastated by his death.”

Bryce, Hypaxia realized, feeling stupid for not making the connection sooner. The only person Jesiba seemed to care about, despite her ridiculous threats to turn the woman into whatever low creature struck her fancy.

Jesiba rose to leave and reached the door as Hypaxia said, “Wait. If he agrees to become involved, I’m not hiding anything from him. He will be told everything.”

The witch shrugged. “That’s your call.” But her eyes narrowed and the air seemed to crackle around them in warning. “Telling Bryce is mine.” And with that, she was gone.

Under her breath, Hypaxia said, “You could have at least given me an idea of how to tell him.” Then, with a deep sigh, “Fuck.”

To be continued...

*****

Tagging @itach-i @queen-of-glass

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be tagged let me know :)

Fanfic masterlist

#crescent city #ruhn danaan #hypaxia enador #house of earth and blood #tharion ketos #jesiba roga #bryce quinlan #ruhnpax #sarah j maas #secrets and confessions #my writing #i have no idea where i'm going with this fic #but i need the distraction from all the awfulness in the world right now

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tact-and-impulse · 4 years ago

Text

Some fic for @shepherds-of-haven and the Lovelace Day event! Upped the challenge for myself and combined 2 prompts for each...MC. Sorry I have eight.

Under the cut or on AO3.

I. while pretending to be a couple / in a garden full of flowers

The house was quaint and picturesque, with a gravel path leading to the front door and boxes of pansies under the bay window. The servant led them around the building, under the arch that led to the expansive garden. “This way, please.”

Flat stones marked winding pathways for visitors to traverse, under the shade of tall trees and even over an artificial stream. In one grassy area, a few tables were set up with refreshments. People milled about, enjoying the scenery. All around, flowers bloomed in abundance, in swathes of color and scent.

“It’s a beautiful place.” He commented.

“It’s even more so at night. Perhaps, we’ll see you again at such a time for you and your…lover?”

“That’s right!” Briony tightened her hold on his arm, nervously laughing. “We’ll definitely think about it.”

“Yes, and seeing more will help us decide.” Well, if they succeeded on this mission, there wouldn’t be a need to return. Somewhere, underneath the natural beauty, there was a black market organization selling magical artifacts to any buyer. With a quick scan, the vast majority here were Diminished. There were a number of older Ket too. Every stoic, weathered face was reminiscent of his father, a cousin, a neighbor. The hollow ache of self-loathing awoke in his chest, the edges of his vision fading…

“Honey, do you need to sit down?” Briony’s murmur cleared the fog, and her violet eyes were brimming with concern.

“Sorry, I was a little dizzy.” He squeezed her hand, finding genuine comfort. “But I feel better now.”

“That’s good. Let me know if it happens again, okay?” The concern hadn’t subsided but her expression was warm and she tugged him down one of the paths. So, what are we looking for?

Intel said there’s a hedge maze, but we should probably save that for later. For now, let’s keep an eye on anyone fishy.

Got it! She gave a slight nod, and he couldn’t suppress a smile.

He was still learning, but he could check anything that sparked interest with his Binding magic. And if needed, Briony could cause a distraction or get them out of a pinch, without their swords. The issue was that the garden was usually filled with groups or pairs, hence the necessity to pretend to be a loving couple. Lavinet had bemoaned not being able to join the mission and took it upon herself to outfit them. He was unaccustomed to his tailored attire and hoped he wasn’t showing it, but Briony looked pretty. Her pink hair was bound with a burgundy velvet ribbon, in the same shade as her knee-length dress. She was openly enjoying the garden, ponytail swishing with every head turn.

They were soon in contact with some Mages, claiming to have a collective date. They made small talk, delivering the cover story about their relationship. The sun was directly overhead, and Briony wiped her forehead.

“Are you thirsty?” He asked, though they hadn’t finished talking to the Mages. “I can get us some drinks.”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’ll be right here.” Don’t worry about me, I can handle it!

“Alright.” Reluctantly, he located the nearest table and picked up two flutes of vytas. How’s it going?

I don’t think they’re part of the organization, but I’m not sure if I’m selling it by myself. I’m so sorry.

It’s okay, this isn’t easy. And we can still make a recovery. He didn’t spill a drop as he headed back as quickly as he could. Briony was visibly tense, biting her bottom lip.

“Here you are, love.” He said and simultaneously thought. I apologize for what I’m about to do. Try not to break the glass.

As her fingers accepted the drink and her brow furrowed, he bent his head down and brushed his mouth over hers in a lingering kiss. One-sided at first, before she began to shyly respond.

Someone coughed. He pulled back from Briony, and he was genuinely embarrassed. The group apparently thought they wanted to be alone, and with teasing remarks, they wandered away.

Briony immediately downed her vytas. The glass was intact but a hairline crack had appeared above her thumb.

As for him, he was unexpectedly warm. His previous kisses were on missions like these, and yet, this felt new. Wait. Briony had amnesia, so had that essentially been her first kiss? “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure! I’m totally fine. I, um.” Her lips were very red…and soft. He forcefully dragged his stare back to her eyes. “Let’s keep going?”

He blinked. “With…?”

“With walking! In this garden.”

Of course. The mission. He swallowed. “Right.”

She took his arm again, but as they resumed their search, he couldn’t put her gliding touch out of his mind.

II. in the middle of battle / during an unexpected rainstorm

The sudden downpour was definitely not appreciated right now. Her brown hair was plastered to her ears, and rivulets trailed down her nose and temples. Mud squelched under her boots as she headed to the rendezvous point.

Hopefully, other people had already made it there. An unforeseen complication had forced the Shepherds to scatter, Blade ordering them to regroup at several known locations. The enemy had retreated for now, but the tension made her tighten her hold on her sword.

There! An old ruin of mossy stone provided shelter from the rain, and from what she recalled, it had to be one of the designated places. She scrubbed the water out of her eyes and hurried her pace.

As she approached, the sounds and sight of a clash met her. Two figures, fighting next to the ruin. A flash of lightning illuminated their faces, one unfamiliar and the other stoically focused. Blade. She felt relief, then dread at what appeared in her peripheral vision. A shadow, lurking in the haze.

She had improved lately, but fighting wasn’t her greatest strength and to be honest, it wasn’t her preferred option in a pinch. She only needed an instant to summon her magic, compressing a spell into her voice.

“Stop.”

The shadow froze in place, and she took the opportunity to strike. Just as the body slumped, she heard her name. The raindrops ceased as Blade lifted his cloak over her. His low voice was reassuring. “It’s good to see you.”

“Same to you.” She smiled and then laughed when she realized how soaked he was. “We can talk more if we’re both dry. Let’s go.”

They took shelter and kept watch at opposite ends. Ongoing communication revealed that about half of their party had reached another rendezvous point, and the other half were heading to theirs. Blade nodded at the information. “Understood. Did you run into anyone else?” He addressed this question to her.

“No, I haven’t. I hope they’re okay.” She rubbed her hands together, dispelling the numbness with friction.

“They know what needs to be done.” Nevertheless, the slightest crease between his eyebrows showed his worry. “But you seem to dislike the rain.”

“I always take storms seriously. I guess it’s because of years of living by the sea.” She lightly said.

“It makes sense. Would you ever go back there, if you could?”

“I don’t know. I think about it sometimes, but mostly about how I could have done more or what might have been.” The cold seeped through her wet clothing, and she hugged herself. “Anyway, it would probably be a very lonely trip.”

Blade looked conflicted, drawing one step closer. That became a pivot as a silhouette leapt out of the mist. Unsheathing her sword, she was pulled backwards by another. She switched her grip and stabbed deep, the groan of pain a good sign. Blade returned to follow through, killing her attacker. The body fell with a wet thud, and a nonverbal casting ensured it was flung faraway.

“Good work. It’s not over though; the others are having a hard time.” He readied to move. Distant voices echoed from the direction of the second rendezvous point. “We’ll have to be careful.”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait for the others.”

He was immediately concerned. “Are you injured?”

“No, but I’d only slow you down and you can be stealthier on your own.”

“That’s not true.”

“It won’t be long before everyone else comes here.” She argued. He didn’t react but she refused to budge. “I can handle myself, and we can regroup again later. But we need everyone to be alive. If it means we need to split up, that’s what we need to do, Commander.” She intended for the professionalism to ground him. Both of them. As much as she hated referencing their positions, the mission took priority.

At first, he remained unreadable. She was willing to wait; although out of practice, she was accustomed to dealing with stubborn Ket men. Then, his eyes flickered with approval. He suddenly ducked, and she thought they were being ambushed again when he kissed her. Firm but fleeting, and not cold at all. As she tried to process what had happened, he stared at her for a moment, expression affectionate.

“Everyone includes you as well. Stay safe, and thank you, Captain.” He smirked, ruffled her hair, and sprinted back into the storm.

“W-wait, uh…” She stammered belatedly. Her knees buckled, and she placed a hand against the wall for support. Her own heartbeat rivaled the intensity of the thunder overhead. She wasn’t sure how long she remained in a daze, until Trouble announced his presence.

“Hey, you made it!” A pause for scrutiny. “Why’s your face so red?”

III. surrounded by fire / shut the other one up for a minute

“You really are the strangest one. Every time I think you’re out of surprises, you manage to come up with another.” The voice was all too familiar.

She coughed, squinting past the smoke to see Croelle, looking as if he had stepped out of the ring of flames. Sparks floated around his visage.

“Oh. It’s you again.”

His lip curled in a sneer. “Is that what you have to say for yourself, when you’ve made this mess?”

“Not a mess. Just an…unfortunate side effect.”

“A side effect blazing beyond your control.” He stepped closer, looming over her, yellow gaze relentless. “You never asked me whether this little side project of yours was possible.” His tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious. “Was it because you didn’t want to know, to cling to your belief of free will? Or was it because you already knew the answer and blinded yourself to the inescapable truth?”

She did not speak. Maybe, it was a little of both. Maybe, it was neither. Ambiguity was a way of life for her. She had wandered aimlessly for years with only her pistol for protection and company; it had taken the threat of execution for her to commit to the Shepherds. But she had gained knowledge, especially with regards to her own abilities. Since her Veiled Circle days, there was a depth to magic that fascinated her, and Shifting magic provided limitless possibility. Experimenting with it occupied her free time, plucked at her thoughts during patrols and missions. Danger couldn’t dissuade her.

The temperature was becoming uncomfortable, perspiration beading at her hairline and collar. She switched to her first language in a brief lapse. “Servori. What does it matter?”

“Part of watching the Shepherds means I need to be informed. Your motive is a valuable piece of information. And my employer thinks you’re unpredictable. At the moment, there’s some investment in keeping you breathing.”

In the end, it was about work. “I see. However, I might not be alive for much longer if this keeps burning.” She directed some of her remaining magic to extinguish a portion of the fire, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t have the necessary skill.

“Are you asking for my help?”

There was no use in denying; above all, she had to survive. She sighed. “Yes.”

“I want to hear you say please.”

She leveled him with a deadpan stare. “Why?”

“I’ve earned your gratitude more times than I care to remember.” That meant he did remember. “And not once have I been repaid.”

She lifted her chin, annoyance growing. He was asking for this now? Even after multiple odd meetings where he popped in and out, she still didn’t understand him. He wasn’t quite a Mage, he worked for a mysterious party, he knew her name without asking. And he had the power to make Inquisitors listen to him. He was puzzling, and for once, she cursed her habit of fixating on difficult problems.

“You’re too elusive to properly repay.” She evaded.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be in the Chrysalis. One word is the very least I’m owed, for dealing with you and your reckless desire for troublesome situations. The tavern was one, and then you had to-”

He was talking way too much, and the logical course of action was to shut him up. As she reached out and cupped his face, there was a novel flash of confusion in his eyes before she kissed him.

And he was still trying to talk. “You…fu…listen…” His resistance only made her more determined, and finally, he gave in. One hand wrapped around her neck, the other maintained a bruising hold on her hip. Fine. If he wanted to lead, she’d go along with the flow.

She’d never done this before, and she left no room for fantasies in her mind. A kiss was supposed to be romantic, Shery liked to say, but in this case, it bought a solid minute of quiet. And it was her victory, she shut him up. That was enjoyable enough. Also, the curious tingle under her skin was compelling, but she was running out of air. She released him, rocking back on her heels. Interesting. Indignant shock wasn’t a bad look on him. She arched an eyebrow. “Are you finished?”

No response. He had been rendered speechless. The confusion hadn’t left, his eyes narrowed and focused on her mouth.

“By the way, that was my first kiss.” She added. “Does that count for anything?”

The fire abruptly died, and the light with it. The cold night air returned to tangle her curly tresses. She was going to be begrudgingly courteous, but any polite action was snuffed when he growled a curse and grabbed her face for another kiss.

IV. against the bookshelves in the library / while delirious at 3 am

“What are you reading?”

She immediately dove over the opened books in front of her. “Aah! Just, n-nothing, it’s smutty romance novels! All sorts of positions, don’t worry about it!”

“Uh-huh.” The Archmage bent down, grabbing one of the tomes on the edge of her workspace. Ignoring the disgruntled noise she made, he flipped through. “Hm, this seems more like formulas than fiction, and it doesn’t explain why you’re in the stacks this late.”

“Oh, fine.” She deflated. “I was trying to summon that thing you sneezed out.”

Red did a double take. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, remember when you had the flu? Trouble said some weird thing came out of a planar rip and it crawled away. I want to know what it is! Plus, some of the kids can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean you were the one who told them about it?” He was clearly teasing her.

“I thought it was a funny story, I didn’t realize it would scare them that bad! Come on, won’t you help out a fellow Conjurer?” She reached for the book and he didn’t fight her off.

“Sure, I’d like to find out what it is too.” He pulled over a chair, his gaze scanning over the various pages and papers. “What have you got so far?”

Tucking her chin-length curls behind her pointed ears, she went over the current iteration of the problem. He quickly located a certain volume, obviously intent on something specific, and soon resolved a few mistakes she had made. Meanwhile, she was making inroads on another part and they discussed how it would fit in. It was kind of nice working like this again. It reminded her of days long gone by, when she was still a student in Capra and he was helping out the younger Mages after graduation.

Midnight rolled around, but neither of them were tired yet. The equations became more complex, the balance in magic more precarious. She’d known he was smart, but he was really on another level. She was impressed. And when he complimented her creativity, she felt rather warm. It was approaching three in the morning, when they finally completed the summoning circle.

“I think it looks good.” Red was double checking, but his expression was confident. “Should we try it out tomorrow? Or would that be today?” He gave a light laugh.

“We might as well do it now. It’d be a waste if we stopped, right?” She grinned, and his expression was so heated she almost missed his response.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

They started the ritual. The salt lit into blue flame and the runes glowed. The air became denser, charged with power, until everything reverted as the spell ended. With a crack, a large, red-eyed, otherworldly bug resembling a centipede fell into the circle. Someone might have screamed, maybe both of them. A hefty warhammer slammed down on the creature, just as two of her daggers speared its carapace. It twitched, infinite legs curling, before remaining still.

An eerie silence filled the library. She tackled Red. “It worked!”

And then, things became a little…blurred. Granted, neither of them had slept in hours. But one moment, she was hugging him and the next, he had lifted her against the bookshelves and his mouth was on hers. Whoa. She’d considered it a couple times, that he had to be a great kisser, but she underestimated him…

When he pulled away, it was to press his forehead against hers and smile. A small part of her recalled the ‘Antiqua bedroom eyes’ gossiped about at school, but she didn’t know him well enough then to take the rumors seriously. If anything, people could have exaggerated more.

“Nice.” She managed to say, before blacking out.

As it turned out, one could get sick from staying up too late. She was feverish and indolent in bed for a few days, enduring plain broth and toast and the scenery from her window. After she recovered, she was on patrol again and upon turning a corner, noticed Red at the other end of a hallway. He was talking to some of the newbies, unaware of her presence. Instantly, she was reminded of what happened in the library, after they killed the centipede-thing. But then again, had it actually happened or had she already been sick at that point?

Slowly, she began to step back, plotting a detour in her route. She thought she was pretty good at being stealthy, but Caine suddenly rushed by, loudly greeting her.

“Shh!” She tried to hush him, but it was too late. Red had spotted her, and he pivoted, striding her way. A faint blush was spreading across his face; the kiss had definitely been real.

Oh, damn.

V. over a field of dead enemies / recovering after a battle

The last imp burst under pressure, viscous fluid spilling over the hilt of his dagger. Unceremoniously, he tossed it on top of its other fallen brethren. He shook off the blood and rolled his shoulders. The surrounding battlefield was littered with ice spikes and frozen corpses, and when he exhaled, his breath was visible. Despite his fatigued body, he grinned.

This was one of the best fights he’d ever been in.

He was running low, but he mustered the willpower to disinfect his hands and inspected himself for injuries. Nothing too concerning, and the worst wound at his ribs stung the most but it didn’t feel like anything internal had been damaged. He slapped on some liniment, the thick paste providing enough coverage until the Healers arrived.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned towards the direction of the approaching figure, tracking her fluttering braid and sleeves. Ayla lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey. You good?”

“I am, now that we’ve won.” Judging from the growing noise around them, the Shepherds had officially secured victory. Now, the tedium of taking stock of their losses and recuperating had begun.

She let out a low whistle. “You killed all of these?”

“Sure did.” The only Endarkened he tolerated was a dead one. And the more dead ones there were, the better off everyone was. He glanced at her, noticing a cut on her arm. Blood dyed the fabric a rusty brown. “Does that hurt?”

She shifted in place, failing to shield her wound from view. “It’s none of your concern, I can fix it. Later.”

“Let me see it.”

“What are you gonna do? Kiss it better?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have salve to spare…and only for Mages who admit when they’re banged up and too exhausted to summon the wind.”

“You’re such a dick, you know?” She grumbled but walked over, offering her arm. “Go ahead.”

He cleaned his hands again, certain it was the last he could do before taking a proper rest. Her injury was deeper than he initially thought. At his request, she tore the rest of her sleeve off and he tied the fabric into a makeshift tourniquet. She looked so slender, but he knew if he pointed it out, she’d prove how delicate she most certainly was not.

His line of thought came to an abrupt end when her voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. “Why do you keep doing this?”

He snorted. “What, tending wounds? Nah, I just know the basics and I don’t want to die from infection. Most of what I learned was common sense to my clan. Ask any Elf and you’ll see.”

“I meant being nice to me.”

“I thought you said I was a dick.”

“Well, that too. But you ultimately end up being kind. So, why?”

“Because I like you. Hey, watch it.” He intoned, dodging her hefty jade ornament.

“Me?! But, but you…said you like me? Like how?”

“How do you think?” And before she could throw another insult, he added. “I don’t know if I’d go to the opera with you-”

“Fat chance. That’s Riel’s thing.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “But I’d be happy doing whatever you want to, or if you can’t think of anything, I’d like to show you the places I’ve been. Just the two of us, when we can catch a break.”

“…as friends?” She cautiously asked.

“No, as a couple.” He met her amber gaze. “You’re fun to be with. Yeah, you can be prickly, but I like a woman who can stick up for herself. And deep down, you got a good heart. You remind me of this southern fruit I had one time-”

“A fruit?”

“Just hold on, will you? Anyway, this fruit is thorny on the outside, but sweet on the inside. Not too many people like it, but that’s fine, more for me and I don’t share.”

Her laugh was brisk. “Good, because I don’t either. But I’m a runner when it gets rough.” She warned.

“Then, it’s a good thing I’m stubborn enough to run after you. If you need time to think about it, I can be patient.” Over the years, he had propositioned and been propositioned many times, but this was different. Ayla was different.

“Promise not to be a dick so much?”

“I’ll try my best. And you always call me out on it, which I take seriously.”

She cracked a smile and looked down at her wound. The bleeding had stopped, and he was glad. “I decide pretty fast. So…I’m saying okay. Ack!”

Utterly happy, he had locked an arm around her waist and picked her up. His grin ached, and when he kissed her, he didn’t care who was watching.

VI. during sparring / fluster the other one into losing

The recruit slid backwards with a groan, admitting surrender. “Damn, you’re tough.”

“Just takes practice.” She said, helping xer up with one hand. “Your footwork could be better, but you can train blindfolded.”

“That works?”

“Sure it does.” The reply wasn’t her own, and she glanced aside to see Chase, leaning against the nearest wall. He pushed off with one foot, walking over with a grin. “If you know what you’re doing in the dark, that’s always useful.”

Ignoring the innuendo, she turned back to the recruit. “It makes you rely on your other senses. You might not think you’re improving at first, but give it a few weeks. Your muscles will remember.” Damn it, now he’s going to twist that too.

“Mm-hmm.” Chase hummed and she regretted looking at him. He was enjoying this way too much.

A group fresh off patrol passed by, and after a polite goodbye, the recruit hurriedly joined them. Alone in the training area with the thief, she set about restoring the equipment to their rightful places.

“I knew when I joined but you really are battle-hungry.” He remarked. “Everyone’s lining up to spar you.”

“It’s what I do best.” She shrugged. She had always been fighting, Father liked to say, from the morning he and Mother had found her furiously squalling on their doorstep. They wouldn’t be surprised over her current situation, with the Shepherds and testing her knuckles with child-snatching scum in back alleys. At least, she thought they wouldn’t. With each year, it was harder to tell and besides, there was no point in wondering. They were dead and gone, with the rest of Westwood. Bitterness sharpened her follow-up question.

“Are you asking if you want to spar with me now?”

“Little old me? Go toe to toe with a Battle-Mage?” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll bite.”

The rule was simple: first to hit the ground or surrender was the loser. No magic or weapons, but she was fine with discarding her bow. He shed a multitude of daggers from various pockets, and despite her mood, such a spectacle had always entertained her.

“No blindfolds too.” He suggested.

“Afraid you’d lose?”

“As good as they can be, it’s even better to see what’s happening.” Another insinuation, but this one wasn’t so easy to dismiss. Something about his tone, the undercurrent of intimacy.

Yeah, right. She shook it off, clearing her throat. “…I mean, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

Admittedly, Chase was probably the most agile opponent she had faced in a long time. Every time she’d think a blow would land, he’d be a breath away or a step out of reach. He couldn’t touch her either; for an excruciating period, they were at a standstill.

A chance appeared when one of his cartwheels led him close to a shadowed spot. Energy surged within her as she rushed up. Her forearm pinned him against the wall, her other fist stopping short of his temple. She was breathing heavily, stray wisps of hair escaping her bun and tickling her neck. “Caught you.”

His gaze darted back and forth between her hands, his short laugh more like a wheeze. “You did, so what’s next?”

“Really? If this was an actual fight, I could have done much worse by now.”

“But I haven’t lost, technically.” He leaned in, and there was nothing except the scent of his cologne and the warm press of lips.

What? What?!

Stunned, she snapped her head back, blood rushing to her face. His dilated green eyes watched her with amusement. Instinctively, she stepped away, but his foot was there, hooking and tripping her. Shit! She thought as she was airborne. The ground met her and judging by the points of pain across her body, her landing must have been undignified. The match was decided.

Chase ran his tongue over his lips. “Guess I win.”

“You cheated.” She darkly retorted.

“Funny. Was there a rule against distractions?” At her stubborn silence, his eyebrows lifted. “Never been kissed before?”

“Of course, I have.” Not since breaking up with her ex-girlfriend though, and certainly not in a combat scenario. Stop it, she told her erratic pulse as she stood and brushed herself off. This didn’t mean anything, he was only teasing her.

Just then, Blade called from an upper window, that they were having a meeting. Chase flashed him a thumbs-up of assent. Then, he returned to her with a strangely thoughtful expression, and she felt exposed. She tried not to shiver. The moment passed, and he gestured to let her walk ahead. “Come on, after you?”

“…Thanks.” She muttered, wiping dirt off her cheek and ignoring how warm her skin was. One of these days, she was going to get him back.

VII. sharing a cloak / patrolling the battlements

A gust of wind hit her in the face as she opened the door. “Oof, it’s cold.” The chill was one drawback to night patrol, but she liked being helpful and she usually didn’t need much sleep anyway. Heading out onto the battlement, she reflexively narrowed her eyes when the wind picked up again. She moved her tumbling hair out of the way, and the person she most wanted to see was standing a short distance away, looking out at the city. Behind him, another door closed as a figure retreated inside.

Smiling, she walked over. “Hi.”

Amidst the darkness, Trouble’s golden head was a bright beacon. Half a stick of charch was in his mouth, and he blew out smoke as he turned towards her. He waved and returned her expression. “Hey yourself. Too bad it’s freezing out here.”

“It is, I already miss the fireplace. Was that Tallys just now?”

“Yeah, she said she’s turning in, now that you’re taking over. So, you’re stuck with me for tonight.”

“I don’t mind.” She answered honestly. “I like patrolling with you. Were you watching something in particular?”

“Not really. I was thinking about stuff.” Uncharacteristically, he didn’t continue to share. He took another pull of his cigarette. “But anyway, let’s start moving. Gotta get the blood flowin’ in weather like this.”

She agreed and kept pace beside him. Occasionally, she glanced up only to find a blanket of dark clouds.

“Notice something?”

“No, it’s an old habit. My teacher navigated using the stars, and I liked trying to do the same, while I was on the road. But I haven’t seen any stars in Haven.”

“It’d be nice if we could, like when we were out on last week’s mission.” He wistfully said. “Speaking of which, how’s your gun working now?”

“Definitely improved.” She patted the pistol secured to her hip. “I never knew you could fix it like that.”

“It actually took me a few tries to get the technique right.” He began to excitedly discuss the intricacies of the inner mechanisms.

She listened attentively. To be honest, there was plenty she didn’t know about her weapon and was unable to ask until recently. Her father had been a soldier, but since he became mayor of their little town, he had never picked up a gun again. It would have been nice, to hear what he thought. He and her mother would have liked Trouble.

The wind swept through, this time from her side, and the full blast forced her to stop and brace herself. The aroma of charch and Trouble’s familiar scent of grass and leather filled her nose, while heavy warm cloth draped over her. One of his hands hung over her shoulder, tightly holding the edge of his cloak. Now that they were sharing, they were standing close, sides touching. His solid body radiated heat, and she resisted the urge to lean in.

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick.”

“Aw, but I haven’t been sick in a long time.” She joked. Nevertheless, she beamed at him. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”

He sheepishly grinned. “Heh. Feeling better?”

“Mm, much warmer.”

They continued on for a minute, before he slowed to a halt and addressed her. He spoke carefully. “I was talking to Tallys before you showed up.” He scratched the back of his neck, seemingly hesitant. “Basically, she called me a dumbass, but in her own way. She just thought I wasn’t noticing some things. Well, maybe I have all along, deep down. I wasn’t sure though, I’m not great with recognizing signs.”

“Trouble? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m rambling.” He squared his shoulders, his serious gaze trained on her. “Somehow, I’ve got it into my head that you like me.”

Ah. She never had any intention of being coy and was waiting for him to figure it out, but she still blushed. Thank the One-God her voice was steady. “You’re not wrong. I like you a lot. I was hoping we could be more than friends. But if you don’t want to, I won’t have any hard feelings.”

“No, I want to!” His immediate refusal sparked relief. “And I like you too. I’m, uh, not exactly used to it though. Being in a relationship.”

“Neither am I. But that’s okay, we can learn together.”

“Learning together sounds good.”

They stood like that for a few moments, happily taking each other in. Then, she pointed out. “You know, people typically kiss right about now.”

“Huh? Oh, true.” He visibly gulped. He tilted his head forward, stopped, slightly changed his angle, and stopped again. Steam was practically billowing from his red ears.

She laughed. “Here.” Slipping her arms around his neck, she met him exactly where they both wanted.

VIII. while one is injured / awakens some deep-buried feelings

Reaper’s down.

The message sent a chill through her, despite the blazing summer sun. She finished bandaging the wounded recruit in her care and swallowed. Can you give me the coordinates? I’m going to him.

Once the response came through, she ran out of cover and towards the group in the distance. All around, there were the sounds of gunshots, battle cries, and the screams of dying Endarkened. Fortunately, her path was clear, and without needing to draw her bow, she reached the portion of stone wall providing cover for the officers surrounding Halek. They stood, explaining the situation.

“We moved the Revenant body out of the way.”

“But he’s in bad shape.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Um…” It was difficult to reply confidently; her heart was pounding, her thoughts racing. “Keep the area clear while I heal him?” Her gaze fell upon a large hand, the matha nearly entirely obscured by blood, and she immediately knelt at his side. She barely registered the officers’ dispersal as she triaged him, focusing on what had to be done.

It wasn’t a secret among the Shepherds that they were close. Close friends, they insisted to anyone who would question their dynamic. He was engaged and had a duty to his people, while she didn’t know where she belonged. He felt confined in his role, a path that had been marked for him since he was born. He once said he envied her freedom, but she told him otherwise. She walked an uncertain line, between a culture that had loved and raised her with the awareness she’d outlive them all, and a virtually unknown bloodline she only knew through stolen books. It hurt to confess how tormented she was, but he didn’t seem to mind, asking her more thoughtful questions.

Perhaps, they found comfort in each other. It soon became typical for anyone searching for him to check her office first, and to send for her after one of his blood-rages. When Chase teased her for being too obvious, she had been scared to her core. She knew, all too well, how important Halek was to the Hunters and she wasn’t even a full-blooded one. No, she couldn’t feel anything more for him. But things would be so much easier if she could smile at him or gaze on his sleeping face without feeling a twinge of pain.

How long it took to heal him, she wasn’t sure. Fractured bones were set right, torn muscle repaired, and internal bleeding stopped. She held his face, murmuring the spell to bring someone back to consciousness.

He didn’t stir. Fear seized her, that she wasn’t capable at all, that he was gone forever. “Halek? Halek, wake up. Please, wake up!” She repeatedly called to him as she continued to cast, pushing the limits of her magic. Fatigue snuck up on her, dark spots floating in her vision. She had failed Maj, but she had to save him. With every second, it was harder to breathe.

Slowly, his gray eyes opened and he languidly blinked. She gave a strangled sob of relief. “You’re alive.”

“So are you.” His voice was hoarse, raw. A curse escaped him as he flexed his hand. He gripped her shoulder, firm but not painful. “Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t. I’m fine.” She reassured.

He exhaled, the tension dissipating. Then, his hand slid to the back of her head and brought her mouth to his.

It was almost too much at first, and she didn’t know how to react. He kissed her with unexpected passion, a longing he must have buried deep down. All of the emotion he had contained was given to her, and she was reciprocating in full. She loved him. Hopelessly, helplessly loved him.

When the kiss ended, they were perfectly still, the world off center. Then, a distant explosion righted it again and she remembered the situation they were in. Her lips burned as she pressed them together and carefully leaned away from him. “We shouldn’t-” The rest of the sentence caught in her throat, blocked by the upwelling of guilt as well as shame in that she had wanted the kiss. And that she half wished he’d pull her in again.

But he didn’t. His touch relented, his fingertips running through the white streak at her left temple. Any desire had receded, the chieftain’s mask back in place. “I’m sorry.”

“…It’s alright.” That felt like a lie and she had never been good at lying. She let him go and dropped her gaze as they rose to their feet, the awkward silence between them suffocating.

When he said her name, she couldn’t resist looking up at him. He hesitated for a second before he promised.

“We’ll talk later.”

#shepherds of haven #sorry if i've made mistakes i've only played the public demo #i just wanted the opportunity to flesh out my player characters

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cubeswhump · 4 years ago

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Sunglasses at Night

A weird interpretation of Tooth Knocked Out for my character, Noelle.

So you all know Noelle, maybe not by name, from my profile picture. She was actually one of the first characters on this blog but I’ve neglected to write her until coming up with an actual plotline like two nights ago.

Warnings for mentions of murder (specifically serial killing), blood, some gore, mentions of alcoholic intoxication, violence, kidnapping, discussed sexual abuse, implied sexual abuse, broken bones, minor mouth gore, briefly mentioned racial bias and police brutality, politically incorrect joke that the character is immediately guilted for.

There was regular stupid, and then there was Noelle Alan.

All of five feet and two inches, the girl thoight herself a badass, the Batman of middle of nowhere Florida. But instead of the Joker she fought petty criminals and that one neighbor who hit his kid, and she was dirt-poor with no grappling hook and Noellemobile, just a hockey stick and homemade pepper spray that was starting to smell fermented.

She came home bruised and bloody most nights. People looked at her father with scorn when she stood next to him with black eyes and swollen lips.

"Elle, you're gonna die one of these days," Marshall grumbled when he saw how intently she was looking at her phone, "and I'm gonna piss on your rotting corpse."

"Kinky," she giggled.

"Scratch that. If you were on fire, I wouldn't piss on you."

He had an idea of what she was looking at and a pit formed in his stomach. When the bodies of young women, necks torn and blood drained, had started to be found around town on a weekly basis, not even hidden, Noelle wasn't scared; Marshall recognized the glint in her eye.

"No," he growled, looking over her shpulder at the news article on her phone screen. "Don't you fucking dare."

"I'm hunting a vampire," Noelle murmured, lips stretching into the dumbest smile.

"Vampires aren't fucking real. You're gonna chase after a serial killer and end up raped and dead in a gutter."

Noelle didn't look up from her phone. "Way to sould callous about rape."

Marshall grit his teeth, fists clenched tight. "No, I'm the one actually taking that shit seriously and bringing up an actual risk."

"I'll sharpen my stakes."

Marshall unclenched his fists and granbed her by her shoulders. He shook his overgrown hair out of his face to look her in the eye.

"Your jawline's looking really defined," Noelle tried, but the flattery was ignored. "Is that stubble I see?"

He huffed out a sigh. "Noelle, I will kill you myself."

"Do it, pussy."

"I don't think you're taking this seriously."

"I'm serious all right." Her shit-eating grin was back. "Seriously about to kick some undead ass."

Marshall drew back his hands, face contorting. "I can't fucking stand you sometimes," he said softly, and turned his back to her. "See you in Hell."

He slammed the bedroom door on his way out. Front door opened and slammed as well. He peeled out of the driveway in his beat-up secondhand car.

Okay. That hurt a bit.

Noelle tried to keep her spirits up. She'd apologize to Marshall after she caught a vamp- serial killer. Caught a serial killer.

People often called Noelle stupid but when she wanted answers, she knew how to get them. When she bothered to actually do her work in school she could always find the cause and effect, the author's purpose, subtext, textual evidence. She got scolded for being mouthy. Teachers said she was far too opinionated when she badmouthed authors and mocked bias in her essays. She was in internal suspension more than the mainstream classroom for arguments with teachers and fights with peers.

Her father joked, with a hint of seriousness, that she was the cause of his receding hairline. Some black people rose to the top and lead social change, but where does having a big mouth usually get a black girl from a poor family? All these police shootings terrified the man and Noelle knew it, but she couldn't stay out of trouble.

He thought she was finally behaving when he caught her pouring over notebooks, scribbling with pencils, using up all their printer ink. His frown lines softened. She was doing her homework, and she was working hard.

In actuality, she was printing up police reports and jotting down the hints, connecting all the detaild. This killer stayed within a small radius and his victims, young women of various races (so racial motivation was crossed out) but tending to be on the smaller side, were all last seen at bars (three specific local ones). And all were seen leaving on their own.

This killer made no attempts to hide their bodies. Two were found in a canal less than a mile away from Marshall's house. One was stuffed into a trashcan missing its lid. One was found behind poor Mrs. Johnson's teashop, and she'd told her young, female employees to stay away for their own safety. One, the most brazen display, was tied to a lamppost on the town's busiest intersection.

All victims were found within a five mile radius.

And the manner of the killing stumped Noelle and detectives alike. Police reports and news articles were vague, almost glossing over it in saying that "throats were torn and copious amounts of blood was lost", but Noelle had managed to find and save some leaked photos before they were taken down.

These women didn't just have their throats slit. Despite Noelle's earlier jokes about vampires, there weren't two neat little punctures; throats were ripped open, skin flapping, jugulars severed and windpipes exposed with multiple points of entry. She reasoned that the weapon must be one designed to grasp at the skin and tear.

She sketched designs for metal claws that attach to the hands, designed to bite into the skin and tear it away when the killer drew his (or her, Noelle Alan was no misogynist) arm back. They would have to attach to the fingers for better flexibility and range of motion and they would need to be relatively short, perhaps protruding only an inch past the finger tips, to have a good grasp. Such a cautious design would be needed to attach well and firmly to the fingers without causing harm to the wearer. Would the blades continue down along the fingers? They must. The intricate joints needed to bend with the fingers.

"This is fucking cool," Noelle breathed, imagining such a weapon on her own hands. Mirror-like silver against brown fingers. She would be a viscous tiger-lady clawing at her enemies and protecting the innocent.

Right. Back to the toxicology reports. While finding blood alcohol levels above 0.05% in what little blood remained in each victim, there was something else. A small amount of some foreign substance but there was more of it than blood after the killer got done with these poor women.

Surely the medical examiner would be able to identify any known toxin or poison, so it was nothing like cyanide or chloroform. Perhaps it was something homemade the killer was lacing his (or her!) weapon with? Or, Noelle thought, perhaps he just didn't clean the weapon in between uses and let it build up enough grime to show in blood?

No, that would not only dull a blade, but a medical examiner would recognize simple dirt and bacteria.

Once a week, usually Monday or Tuesday. Girls always seen leaving after two in the morning, dead before three. Bars the girls came from following no pattern, like the killer was picking which of the three at random. So which one would Noelle go to if she couldn't predict the target?

The killer liked small girls, short of stature and narrow shoulders. Noelle's height fit the bill, but she needed clothes that hid her muscles while allowing enough skin exposure (no turtlenecks).

Her wardrobe: tank tops, tank tops, short-shorts, athletic shorts, more tank tops, pajamas, sports bras, running shoes. Why was her middle school uniform still in there? A momentary distraction while she tried it on and found that while she'd gotten wider, she hadn't grown much vertically since seventh grade.

She had to blow her birthday money from that one rich aunt at Goodwill. A green dress that had a good balance of making her butt look fantastic while still allowing movement. A good dress couldn't help her chest though and she stuffed some tissues in her bra. A-cups, while great for athletics, scarcely got noticed.

A cardigan covered the bulk of her arms (and bra straps) and the dress hid her thighs but showed of her calves. She practiced some kicks and defensive stances in the black kitten heels until the clerk threatened to kick her out. They slipped off easily enough, and were only nine dollars, so she'd just kick them off to fight.

She arived at Uncle Tim's Beer Belly (always pick the one with a funny name) at 1AM. She was only eighteen so she wasn't supposed to be in bars but she discovered that she could get away with it by staying away from the bar, hiding in crowds, and acting casual and confident if the bartender looked her way. She couldn't actually get drunk before a fight but she rubbed whiskey in her armpits, behind her ears, and on her wrists and neck and practiced a drunken shamble to look and smell the part.

Each victim seen leaving around two in the morning. Check, Noelle was out the door by 2:10, feeling so stupid shambling down the road that she couldn't help giggling and sticking her arms out in a zombie impression.

She circled the block for a good hour, and only attracted the attention of some catcallers. At least it was fun to yell back at them.

"I'll suck your dick if you suck mine!" she shouted at one in a red car, and immediately felt guilty. Marshall would punch her in her padded boob if he heard her making jokes at the expense of transwomen.

God, she missed Marshall. He hadn't responded to any of memes she sent him the past few days. She knew he'd disapprove of her activities.

She tried the next night and had no luck again. The only difference was that her dad caught her coming in through the window smelling like a bar and freaked out. That was not fun.

That morning, someone found the body of a young woman who had last been seen leaving The Wench's Tavern. Caitlin Weiss, a girl who graduated when Ne was a junior, and an old friend of Marshall. She was so nice to everyone and gushed about how she was going to be a veterinarian, and instead she was found with her skirt hiked up as her lower half dangled out of a dumpster. Neck torn.

Ander boiled inside Noee. Caitlin didn't deserve that. None of them did!

If only Noelle had guessed the right bar, Caitlin might have made it home.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Noelle yelled. She had to put duct tape over the hole she accidentally kicked in the wall. Hopefully her dad didn't notice that. She was on thin ice already.

She was back next week, and the week after that. She stuck to the Beer Belly. After all, when you're guessing on a multiple-choice test, you're meant to pick all the same letter. Surely a percentage of those A's will be corrext and you'll fail the test if you alternate answers.

For the first time in her life, she was beginning to lose hope. Would she ever catch this scumbag? But she kept going even as that hope dwindled. She kept going even when Marshall responded after countless texts and only said, "I know what you're doing and I want no part in it."

She owed it to Caitlin, Therese Jenkins, Natalie Hernandez, Jessye Zhao, Katy Smith... She ignored the voice in her head telling her she was doing it out if pride, not the innocent lives lost.

She was having a mental debate when she heard footsteps on week four. Heavy footsteps, like a man. Confident footsteps like he wanted to be heard. She wasn't a girl who feared sharing the sidewalk with men. Maybe it was just a courteous young guy walking loudly to let a woman know he was there and avoid her thinking he was following her.

But she didn't believe that.

She waited until she'd taken four right turns and the footsteps continued. Yep, she was heing followed. She snaked a hand in her bag and whipped out the hairspray bottle, spraying the spicy concoction as she spun around. But the man's face was higher up than she expecyed, and he was wearing sunglasses. At night.

I wear my sunglasses at night

So I can, so I can

Watch you weave-

She pushed the stupid song away and reminded herself this wasn't the time.

In the dim light of the streetlight across the street, she could see...wow, he was tall, and not quite fat but plump and round. He raised his hand and swung it at hers, and there was a crack! even before the cannister hit the ground. She shouted and clutched her hand.

Hands that definitely didn't have metal claws pulled her close, pressing her against his body. She struggled but the hold on her back grew painful.

"You've been looking for me, haven't you?" he asked, voice deep and husky. She could hear the smile in his voice, and grit her teeth.

"You're a sick fuck," she spat. If she could just get her throbbung hand in her bag, if she could move just enough to retrieve her knife...

"I like you, girl," he chuckled.

His hands moved to her shoulders, and with the increased space between them, her hand was able to dart into the bag. Bone fragments ground against each other as her bad hand tightened around the handle, and tears stung her eyes.

The man was suddenly coming down toward her, and he was coming down fast. With a shout, she plunged the knife right in between his ribs just as pain blossomed in her neck.

"Help, I'm being fucking murdered!" she screamed, warmth dripping down her neck and chest. "Fire! Fire!"

A muffled laugh. The creep was amused.

Surely the blood was flowing out, but there was an odd pressure like something going in. It felt like getting an injection at the doctor's office, but the needle at the end of the syringe was actually a bear trap.

Noelle was screaming even after the pain faded to tingly numbness that spread to her limbs, until her vocal cords seized. Her hands fell limply from the handle of the knife still sticking out of his ribcage. The only thing holding her up was his mouth on her neck. She fought to keep her eyes open but everything faded to black.

***

There were lucid moments here and there but it was like watching an old, grainy home video. Long fingers that she couldn't see in the darkness wrenching her jaw open. Something thick and bitter pouring down her throat. The taste remained, sticking to her teeth and mouth and throat. She gagged. Darkness.

Alone on a mattress, sitting back on her ankles, never questioning why she could see with the lights off. A chunk of something was on her tongue. She plucked it out wuth her fingers, one hand still throbbing, and her eyes widened at the little white canine tooth. And then there was another, and then a premolar. Fade to black.

She dreamed of tall, pink men with long fingers and metal claws. She dreamed of her skin ripping open and a skeleton bursting out and flying into the night. She dreamed of teeth: white teeth, yellow teeth, rotted teeth with cavities, square teeth, molars, sharp teeth. Very sharp teeth.

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leftenant-sinani · 4 years ago

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Tales from Grudgewill - Love of Our Lord Chapter 2

Here it is, maties. Yall waited long enough for this to go public, eh? Either way, third chapter is ready, but i still need to check it if there are some critical mistakes, just in case, yknow. Dont know when i will make fourth chapter.. probably this weekend, as i want to continue in it and include another love interests in it. Perhaps i will get drunk again tonight just to get inspiration like with the first paragraph. :P I also thank you all for the support on the first chapter, i love you all. And lets not forget about the main individuals who help me to get through this thing : @witharsenicsauce, @avengercommander, @smixcom and @myrddinderwydd

Chapter II : A Long Boring Day

Valnin woke up from the dreamless sleep, but didn't open his eyes yet. He rolled on the right side of his bed, wanting to continue in his precious sleep, but he couldn't. He knew that he had a lot of responsibilities, and the kingdom wouldn't move a single step without him. He still felt overwhelmed despite the fact he was already ruling this kingdom for two years now, and yet, it was still too much on his shoulders, especially with all the recent events. All those runners from other provinces and the Empire itself were making him annoyed at best times. Sometimes, he had an inkling that he would just create that magic portal again and go back to the land where he came from. But it wasn't that easy, he made a deal with that damned Watcher that was surely eyeing him right now from the void, watching his every move. The Lord had no idea why it HAD to be him of all people who got to speak with an entity that has maybe even more power than the gods he knew from his world. "Oh, Azura. Why have you forsaken me, and left me to the Watcher's mercy?" He said in weak and tired voice. He wanted to curse aloud, but knowing it would interrupt his peace he still has, he rather did not. He sighed, continuing to think about this whole mess he got into. Valnin knew that his life was in danger back in Morrowind, and the only choices he had was taking that cursed offer. Of course he wanted to live when he barely lived one quarter of his life. Oh, how naive he was when he thought that he can finally enjoy his life more than he ever did now that he got a second chance. "Ruling a kingdom, heh. You've surely couldn't get me a worse job than this." He scoffed quietly. Nevertheless, he finally opened his eyes. He immidiately covered his face before the sunlight that was shining into his pale visage. He then rubbed his eyes, so he could see clearly. He was just sitting there for a while, thoughtless, scanning his room. It was funny to him, he slept countless nights in this very room, and yet, he still sometimes paused and curiously watched the room. It felt like it wasn't really his own, despite the fact was that this whole castle was his, and he still couldn't believe it. To him, it almost felt like he became a ruler yesterday when realized how much he still has to learn. The Lord finally woke from the trance, and got out of bed in slow motion. His bare feet touched the wooden floor, not too cold, not too warm, it's tempeature was just fine. He stood up, feeling kind of broken from that endless sitting in his throne. Valnin looked into the mirror he had right next to the bed, studying his own reflection. The first thing he noticed, like always, is how wild his hair is looking after every night. No wonder though, his black hair was reaching almost the lowest part of his back. He sometimes thinks about cutting it, but then he always says to himself, that it is not that long yet... For Elf at least. His eyes then fixed on the overall look of his. All that he had on him, was just those black "pants" he was always wearing for sleep, which left top of his moderately muscular, light blue body completely revealed in its full beauty. He sighed on the sight of those Telvanni paints on his upper body, realizing that he still missed his world a lot. "Oh, to Oblivion with you, Watcher" He said to himself, hoping that his "rescuer" was listening right now.

Lord Valnin was sitting in his throne, wearing his usual fancy robe, waiting for runners, people to be judged or someone who needed help with something. Three hours had already passed, and yet so far, only one runner came today, which was odd to Valnin, since most of the days were just endless talking to someone, judging or helping somebody. Today was calm however. Way too calm. Valnin had his suspicions that maybe there are closed borders because of the plague. Empire has history of being careful, so they probably ordered a strict traffic by putting dozens of patrols on every possible way to Icestand. The option sounded a little bit harsh, but it was possible with the state this province is currently in. Nevertheless though, he enjoyed the peace he had been thirsting for the day before. He waited five, then ten minutes. Nothing. He was getting more and more bored by every minute that passed. In the meantime, he was scanning the throne room, sometimes playing with his hair or checking his nails. "Well, I've waited enough." He said to himself. He got up from his throne and turned to his protector who was standing by his side the whole time "You stay here, my loyal servant. If something happens, I'll be in gardens." the guard just nodded but stayed quiet, his face not moving one bit, as if he was made of stone. Valnin smiled at him, and was on his way.

The gardens were were one of Valnin's favorite places in his whole castle. The sweet smell of all the fruit trees and bushes was like a harmony to his nose. He could spend hours in this place: relaxing, taking a walk or even just doing nothing. The Lord was softly smiling the whole time as he slowly strolled through this beautiful place. It was like a magic. A magic that calmed his soul, and with the light wind caressing his face and of course the wonderful smell... he was feeling numb, but in a good way. However, something caught the corner of his eye. When he took a look into the gazebo, he noticed that there was someone fighting. He took a closer look, and it was no one other than Master Assassin Vallinor training her young human student. Curious, he got close enough, so he could see it fully but without interrupting them. He leaned against one of the pillars that was serving there as a decoration. He barely managed to register everything that was happening; the Student was quick with his moves, trying to dodge or block every attack from his Master, however Vallinor was even faster than him. The poor boy didn't stand a chance, and yet, he continued to fight bravely, even though he was slowly losing. His chaotic counter-attacks had almost no effect as the Master managed to dodge most of the attacks and parry the rest without issue and it was obvious that the student didn't know what to do to defeat her. The Lord couldn't help but to notice how smooth Vallinor's moves were... almost like a dance. Still, while the boy was way more clunky, he was holding his ground as he could. It was going like this for a good minute until the Assassin got to hit a strike which completely set the Student off-balance, and in the blink of an eye, Vallinor managed to grab him and do a foot sweep and the poor kid was on the ground. The Master held her blade close to the Student's face which seemed to made him freeze a bit. Her face then softened as she smiled "I must say, this time it was better, my young apprentice". She helped him on his feet again and once they both were finally standing straight, the difference in heights between her and the boy was evident. The Student was probably about 185-190cm, and Vallinor was nearly 240cm tall, a truly astronomical difference. Not to mention the looks... the Master was, according to her words, a human before. Until her former masters did change her into this... creature which only resembled human. Blue skin which was almost of the color same as Valnin's, glowing magenta eyes, sharp teeth which looked like little blades when she smiled, those strange markings on her head, unnaturaly long body which made her so tall and a voice that was hypnotising on one hand, but also creepy on the other. "So did I do well, Master?" The boy asked. The Assassin rose her head "You did good enough since the last time, Curnol. But you still need a lot of training.". The Student looked kind of disappointed, but then his Master gave him a sharp smile "You have what it takes to be a great swordsman in the future, my student. That inner fire which makes you the true warrior. And one day, with enough training, that fire will be strong enough to melt metal, and bright as the sun itself." A smile has shown on Curnol's sweat-covered face, it almost looked like he is going to shed a tear. But before anything else happened, Valnin has stepped forward. When Vallinor noticed her ruler approaching, she quickly dropped to one knee and her student did the same right after her. "My Lord. It is an honor to see you here." The Assassin said with sincere tone. Valnin smiled "The honor is mine, lady Vallinor". Vallinor got up again, so did her apprentice "What can I do for you, Lord Valnin?" she asked. The Lord's smile never left his face "Well. It is more of a... personal matter, Master Assassin." The Master nodded and turned to her student "Curnol, get some rest, you've earned it. Just don't forget we will be training again tomorrow." "Of course, Master." Curnol said while bowing, and then left.

Lord Valnin and Master Vallinor were standing in the gazebo, side by side, talking while looking into the snow land of Icestand as the gazebo was in pretty high position. They were like that for an hour, yet it felt like just 10 minutes to Valnin as he was enjoying this little yet long conversation between him and Vallinor. The Master was smiling all the time while talking to Valnin, sometimes wide enough to reveal her sharp teeth. She felt relaxed when she was near her Lord, almost as if Valnin had some magical aura around him, unlike her previous masters, her own "parents" who created her, who pretended that they had love for her, no, this was way different. Her new Lord was kind, honorable, good-hearted and even somewhat attractive. However, she couldn't say anything like that in front of Valnin, as she was shy to admit any of it. Either way, she was mostly talking in this case, Valnin was just listening to her, nodding here and there while looking into the distance. "... And so, my brother, Tessura, drank six shots of local strongest alcohol. You cannot imagine how noisy he was, your Lordship." She said with a slight smirk on her face. The Lord was surprised to hear all these little stories about her and her brothers, and it made him feel like they really WERE humans before "I see. So your brother did win the bet?". Vallinor smiled yet again "He did, but he was too drunk to actually remember that it was a bet, so he didn't get the coin nevertheless." They shared a moderate laughter, the combined sound of Assassin's raspy voice and Valnin's strong yet soft tone was slightly echoing in the chilly air of this frozen land. Then the laughter stopped, and there was a quite long moment of silence between them, the only sound that could be heard was the wind flowing calmly through the leaves of trees and bushes in the garden. Lord Valnin then broke the silence "I'm proud to have you as one of my masters, Vallinor. You and your brothers are making excellent examples for your students." The Assassin felt more than flattered, she felt honored which made her blush slightly "I thank you, Lord Valnin. It is an honor to serve under you and to have an apprentice of my own". Then her face morphed into expression of concern "Also I do not want to doubt your judgement, your Lordship, but my brother, Tessura, is not very good example with his behavior sometimes.". Valnin just smirked "He is special, my good lady. It is making him more human than he thinks.". The Master looked at him with a slight confusion, and the Lord continued "Which reminds me, my dear Vallinor... were you and your brothers truly humans before your previous Lords transformed you into this?". She sighed, and nodded "Indeed. At least my two brothers remember being human, I, however... do not remember anything from my previous life. It sometimes feels like I was truly just created by the False Gods.". Valnin didn't know what to say for a second, but then his iconic smile came back to his face again "Perhaps you were human, perhaps not. However, it does not change anything about that you are one of the best warriors, both cunning and beautiful.". Vallinor felt her heart skip a beat when she heard that last word. Did her own Lord really just call her beautiful? She never heard such compliment from anyone besides her big brother, but that was just a sibling love, this on the other hand felt like an actual love... but maybe she was just overthinking it, Lord Valnin is known for his kind words after all. "Once again, I am deeply honored to hear this from you, my Lord." She said while bowing. Valnin nodded while smiling as brightly as the sun of this planet. "Well then, if there is nothing else, I will be on my way agai-" Before he could finish the sentence, Vallinor quickly grabbed his arm with such might that Valnin even got scared for a second. "No, please..." She whimpered. Realizing what she did, she quickly got her hand off Valnin's arm. She then started to apologize in stuttering manner "I-I deeply apologize, my Lord... I-I... I just reacted and-" Valnin quickly stopped her "You do not need to apologize, Vallinor. I admit, I got a little bit scared at the moment, but I do not blame you for doing so.". "I should be more careful with my actions, your Lordship. I am really sorry for what I did, it was a reflex, I swear." She continued in her apology, her face one big look of concern. "Once again, I do not blame you, dearest Vallinor... however, I must ask, what was the real reason behind it?" Valnin curiously asked. The Assassin started to blush deeply, her blue cheeks turning bright purple, her eyes focusing on everything but Lord's blood red eyes. She had absolutely no idea how to say it in some professional way, but she couldn't care less for that right now, she just wanted to be honest with Valnin "Your Eminence, I want to confess to you. You keep saying amazing things to everyone, but you're the real one who deserves compliments the most, my Lord. I must admit, at first I was worried that you are going to be like my previous Masters and I was skeptical about this whole thing of starting a new life. Instead though, I got life I've always thirsted for; Living happily with my dearest brothers, having a free will, a Master who would be fair and kind, and even having a student of my own. I got all of this just because of you, Lord Valnin. There is barely anyone else I would want to serve under more than you.". This reminded Valnin of last evening, and he couldn't help it. Jaal's speech was more than sweet, but this one felt more honorable. Still though, both were good with words, and he already couldn't choose between his dear Captain or this charming Assassin. "So... you do feel something towards me~" Valnin said with bit of a flirty tone. Vallinor froze on a place where she stood, blushing ever so brightly that it almost hid the blue under it "Does that mean...". "Yes, dearest Vallinor. You passed my little test." The Lord said. "A... A test?" The Master asked, thinking about what that meant. "Indeed. A test to determine if you care for me" Valnin said happily. Vallinor stayed quiet, her magenta eyes obviously full of questions. "But... I do not kno-" She was interrupted by her Lord again "Do not hide your emotions, Assassin. It is clear as this day that you have eyes for me~" He told her with playful voice. She still had no idea what to think about all this. Her own Lord caring about her more than just a soldier or friend? On one hand, it was a big shock for her that someone like Valnin would care for her, on the other though, she was more than happy inside, knowing that someone truly loved her, it almost made her cry if she would not hold the tears back. Valnin was smiling as always, feeling happy that she was happy. He hugged her, and she hugged him back. Despite the fact the Lord barely reached Vallinor's chest, it was still a lovely sight. "Os e ohth." Valnin said. Vallinor didn't understand him, but she liked what he said nevertheless, it felt so mystical, mysterious and magical. When they released each other, Valnin started to speak again "Well, now I really need to go, but do not worry, my lady... I will be back.". Vallinor planted a kiss on his forehead "I am looking forward to it, my Lord.".

The day has flowed like a river. Today was a very boring day for Valnin, as barely anybody came. He was enjoying the peace, however, it was still suspicious to him. Almost every day was full of talking with runners from other provinces or the Empire, judging the people who have commited a crime or just dealing with servant's matters around the castle.Today however, was barely active, and all that Valnin had to do, was dealing with one runner from the Second Kingdom of Icestand and... that small precious moment with Master Assassin. The Lord was daydreaming almost whole day, thinking about Captain Jaal and Master Vallinor. However... there were still others who he did not encounter yet this week. Azura knows if they will share the same feeling. He honestly had hoped that they will not, as it would make this easier for him, but he also couldn't deny to himself that he felt something for them, and the feeling always gets on top when he is near those he seeks to be in love with. His head already was making the scenarios of what could happen if it all worked out. Some people would call it insanity to love six people at the time, but Valnin did not care much for judgement of the others who did not experience such thing. He always believed that if someone wants to do something to make them happy, then as long as it does not hurt anybody, they should do it no matter if it will be odd to others. As Valnin looked around the throne room, he realized he might check on his dear Captain, assuming he is still awake.

The Lord was wandering through the right wing of the castle with his hands behind his back. He liked walking through his castle at night, there was such a peace in the air, like he was there completely alone in the whole building, and the dim lights from the torches were adding to the peaceful atmopshere. It surely was not as good as the gardens, but for head clearing, it was good enough. As he approached to the Jaal's office, he straightened his hair a little, so he would look at least more normal, but he could not really control it, the hair had almost life on its own with how long it is. "By Azura, I swear I will cut this blazed hair one day." He cursed under his breath. He then knocked on the door, patiently waiting for the response. As he was waiting, he realized that the hair probably does not matter that much, because after all, Angara do not have hair... who knows, perhaps he likes it this way. He sighed when he realized that he was thinking about something completely irrelevant again, but it is still easier to get lost in his own head than doing actually what he has to do. Then he focused on the door again... no response. It was impossible that Valnin would not hear it, and even with his thoughts constantly interrupting him, he would've heard it since he has good ears, not to mention that if the Captain would notice that the door would not open, he would check it himself most probably. So, it is how Valnin thought it would be. The Captain is already asleep. "N'chow... Just my blazed luck." He said to himself. He wasn't sure what he is going to do now... Jaal was asleep, and knowing Vallinor, she was definitely asleep too during this hour. The Lord sighed as he was about to leave to his chambers. Then he paused when he saw a weak light coming from the room at the end of the corridor. "Wait... was this door opened when I got here?" Valnin asked himself quietly. He wasn't really sure if they were or not, therefore his main attention was somewhere else those few dozens of seconds ago. He got one step closer, then another, curious if there was actually someone there. When he was just one step from the door, it was just quiet, like there was no one there after all. "Perhaps someone forgot to blow out the candle..." he thought. That however changed when his eyes caught a glimpse of someone sitting on the other site of the table the candle was on. Valnin thought his heart jumped into his throat for a moment, but he did not move at all, as he was frozen on the place he was standing on. "Did we got lost in our own castle, Valnin?" The person said. The Lord immidiatly recognized the voice. It was Evfra de Tershaav. The Commander of the Royal Security. As he spoke, he shifted forward in his chair, so Valnin could see him clearly... at least part of him. His blue, bitter face was recognizable at first glance from other Angara men. Valnin already could see the judgement in Commander's eyes. He knew that Evfra was a closed person, and sometimes even cold from what Jaal has told him... which made him one of the best leaders. Still though, just his presence was already making the Lord feel somewhat uneasy. "Oh, no I did not, my loyal Commander." Valnin quickly responded. Evfra just answered with bitter "Hmph.". Valnin was getting slightly nervous from that response. "Tell me, Valnin... What was your original purpose here?" Evfra asked almost coldly. The Lord was getting more and more nervous by Evfra's every word, he then answered with slightly shaky voice "W-well, I just wanted to vi-visit Captain Jaal and-" Evfra then interrupted him "I know why too well, 'Lord' Valnin. You are seducing my best soldier." the Commander said slightly angrily while crossing his arms. Valnin started to feel really anxious. It was only three sentences, but each of them did hit like a dagger to the stomach. "You didn't think I would let that slide, did you?" The Commander continued. "B-but... I could not-" The Lord was trying to defend himself but Evfra interrupted him again "Don't even try. I bet you do not even know why I am angry at you.". This made Valnin freeze again, as he was quickly scrolling through his mind what was this about. He then ended up wide-eyed as he realized what was going on. By Azura, how could he forget about this? "Wait, don't tell me you are angry because-" He then stopped mid-sentence as he saw Evfra slowly nodding. "I thought you wanted to be with me, considering what all you did for me, Valnin." Evfra said with a sign of sadness in his voice. "Not to mention you even fell for that... woman, Vallinor." The Commander continued in his speech. Valnin then looked at him with horror in his eyes "How did you get to know this?". "Two years, and you still don't know that word travels too fast here, Valnin?" Evfra gave him a look of disapproval. Valnin thought for a minute, then he sighed "Well... we can still make this work, dearest Evfra". Evfra looked at him with unbelieving eyes ".... Are you serious? With Jaal and Vallinor in our way?". The Lord tried to smile "They do not have to be in our way necessarily. I can make time just for you~". The Commander frowned "Do you really think that would work now, Valnin?". Valnin tried to get a little closer to him, just so they could see eye to eye "It could. Just trust me, please.". Evfra's eyes fell down for a moment "Hmph. You know too well that you are probably the only alien person I would trust if anything.". Once Valnin got close enough so he could at least see into Evfra's eyes properly, he putted his hands on the table, his left hand not far from Evfra's "I know. Just know that I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, if you simply do not want to because of others being in my life aswell, then don't do it.". Evfra sighed deeply "I am not really sure with anything in this world, but you... you are different, jetevre.". A smile has finally appeared on Lord's face "I hear that a lot. But from you, it sounds so warmly, that it could melt an ice~". Evfra's lips seemed to have shifted into a slight smile until he got to talk again "Just... don't expect me to be like this in public, dibellen.". "I will not, Commander. You have my word on it." Valnin said with confidence in his voice. Evfra was looking at him, no longer with that death stare, but with affection, even when it could be barely recognizable in his face, since he couldn't really move it because of that uncomfortable-looking scar across the whole left part of his face. Evfra did not say anything, he just slowly reached for Valnin's hand with his own. They were like that for a while... just looking into each other's eyes, holding hands... Until the Lord said "I should go now. I will catch you later though, Evfra. Good night.". The Commander was just sitting there wanting to wish him back, but all he could at the moment, was kissing Valnin's hand. Valnin blushed as Evfra did let his hand go. "Now go. You need that sleep far more than you think." The Commander said with a warm voice. The Lord smiled at him as he was leaving, and then closed the door behind him. Evfra sighed one more time, hoping that this will really work as his Lord said. And with that final thought, he finally blew out the candle.

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