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#so now i’m… i feel numb. and pensive. i feel guilty that i don’t feel more sad
fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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You know when I cancelled therapy and immediately knew I’d regret it and probably be back within the week? Yep.
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nomazee · 4 years
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Komorebi (6)
komorebi, final.
synopsis: Tsukishima dislikes the amount of parallels there are with you and Hinata. He dislikes the way you’re so energetic and exuberant when you want to be, and the way you can get along so well with people. He dislikes the way that people are naturally drawn to you, and the way you’re so willing to put time into your dumb gifts and snacks and treats for a team of boys you barely know. But Tsukishima does not dislike you. And he supposes that’s part of the problem.
series content: developing relationship, (sort of) ooc tsukishima, strangers to (sort of) friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slow burn
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six
(the final part!! i don’t wanna ramble too much for right now so all of my final thoughts will be at the end! 
love yall :) )
☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽ 
Just like that, Tsukishima is back to square one. 
The world goes silent for a few days. He hates to admit that he’s losing sleep over you, but at this point he’s too far gone to care what anyone thinks about him. Except for you--and while he knows that assuming things is bad, he can only conclude by the way you looked so scared of him before, that you do not think he’s a good person. 
(The gifts you gave him nearly contradict that assumption. But he ignores those for the most part. The scarf you gave him a while ago rests on a chair in his room and more often than not he finds himself staring at it during the deep hours of the night. He hasn’t worn it yet.)
Yamaguchi keeps giving him glances during class--not that that’s any different from before, but it irks him more now that he’s actually seen you. The blonde wonders if his friend knew about you, knew that you were going to drop something off in that moment and just never thought to warn him. Maybe you two were plotting that together, like an odd sort of revenge tactic. 
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a lot of things. What he does know is that he’s tired, and he misses you, and he wants to be warm again. 
The morning is cold when we wakes up. He wasn’t really sleeping--it was one of those nights of a daze of exhaustion where he kept blinking himself awake. At five-thirty AM, he sighs, staring at the blank, matte wall of his ceiling. Tsukishima wills himself to crawl out of his bed and get ready for school. It’s still dark outside, the flames of daylight creeping up on the horizon while he steps around his room. 
He’s ready to leave by six. His mother is awake, sitting in the kitchen sipping hot tea and scrolling through her cellphone. She catches a glimpse of her son walking through the front door--Tsukishima feels her pensive gaze on him but refuses to say anything, just like always. 
The air is cold. Despite the long-sleeved uniform he’s wearing, Tsukishima feels ill-prepared to face the day, in more than one way. Nevertheless, he lets go of his reluctance at the door and trudges onward in the frigid air, nose flushed with red and cheeks going numb in a matter of seconds. 
(The scarf is in his bag now rather than his desk chair, hidden beneath his books and folders and pencils. He wants to wear it, knows he should, but his guilty conscious tells him to leave it unworn for now.) 
The walk passes by quickly, far too quickly for his comfort. Before Tsukishima knows it, he’s faced with the front doors of the very school he dreads to enter. 
His fingers tingle with numbness as he pulls at the metal handles of the door. The school is quiet, empty for the most part. The faint shuffle of teachers in their classrooms echoes throughout the halls as his feet lead him to Class 1-4. 
There’s a faint pitter-patter of footsteps from inside the classroom. Tsukishima passes it off as one of his teachers, again, but the sight he’s met with when he walks through the doorway gives him a disturbing sense of deja vu. 
You’re there, at his desk--the same bracelet from a few days ago resting on top of a box that  you seem to have just placed on his desk. You blink up at him owlishly. He can only return the gesture, dumbstruck as he is. 
It’s too reminiscent of the events from a few days ago. Once again, his eyes are prickling with stinging pain and his throat dries up. 
He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do.
What does he know, he wonders. He knows he hates crying. It’s unfortunate that that’s the only thing he seems capable of doing. 
It’s all overwhelming for him. The cold of the outside lingering on his skin, the sheets of sunlight pouring through the window as the sun rises, your eyes, your sheer presence in front of him. It piles on his shoulder and soon he feels liquid heat pouring down his cheeks. 
Tsukishima Kei is crying. In front of you, in a classroom, watching you grip the box in your hands and stare at him, unmoving. 
His throat hurts. He tries to choke down any audible sobs, but loud, ugly sniffles echo throughout the room. He wants to fall through the floor, squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at you. He can’t bear to know that you find him pathetic, even more so than he already seemed in the last few weeks. 
Distantly, he recognizes the sound of footsteps coming closer to him but tunes them out in hopes that he’s just imagining them. A hand finds its way to his shoulder--it’s warm, and he flinches. He knows it’s yours, knows by the heat of it and the comfort he feels from a simple touch. It’s the first time he’s felt your touch, but he feels so light now--so warm and comfortable and cloudy. 
“Kei.” It’s your voice. It swims through the air and into his ears, sobs only increasing in severity at the sound of his first name on your lips. Your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, both sets of fingers gently brushing away the pouring stream. 
Fond. Tsukishima Kei is very fond of the feeling of your skin on his. He hopes he can become well-acquainted with it, if he tries hard enough. 
“Kei, it’s okay.” You’re so soft, voice low and lacking any hostility he expected you to have. Your thumbs pat at his under eyes, soaking up the wetness that pools. 
“Can you look at me?” He’s stubborn, hand coming up to grip your wrist and lips clamped tightly shut to reduce the shiver of his entire body as he weeps. A gentle shake of his head makes you sigh--he knows the way he’s acting is so uncharacteristic but he can’t help it. Not with the feel of your hands on his face, your voice, the sound of his first name spoken by you still ringing in his ears. 
“It’s okay. It’s alright. I’m here.” 
You are here. It seems impossible to him, but you’re here. With him. With your hands giving him warmth and comfort and fondness. Everything he ever wanted. 
His eyes blink open. Tsukishima Kei looks at you--really looks. Your lips are upturned, gentle as is the rest of you. The sun is halfway above the horizon now, the light from it filtering through the leaves of the trees that are planted outside the window. The golden rays hit your eyes perfectly, changing the hue the slightest bit and making him stop his tears momentarily--just to admire you. 
You blink at him. You smile. Tsukishima Kei is in love, just a little bit.
☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽
(so... this has been a wild ride. 
first off i wanna say thank you for all the support i’ve received throughout this whole thing! it really means so much to me. i love you all so much. 
im very proud of myself for finishing this. this is by no means the greatest product i could’ve created--it was a little bit messy, and the word count of the entire series (ab 6000 i think) is lower than some long oneshots i’ve seen.
there’s a lot of things i could’ve done better--no doubt about that. but i am very proud of myself for making this. for finishing a WHOLE multipart series,,,,yes it was short but......its here! i did it! i’m finished! very happy with this. 
this series was mainly set in tsukishima’s own head--and i know it was probably at least a little disappointing that it was NOT action-based---and the fact that it was tsukki-centric was definitely a downer to some people because you didnt really get to feel what.... YOU would feel in that situation. we didnt get to see that here. 
and its okay if that’s what you disliked most!!! in truth i think that was one of my biggest weaknesses writing this series. but i liked it this way, i think. i like trying to analyze characters within my writing and i think that, at the very least, this was a good challenge for me to try to take on with characterization and the like.
anyways....that’s it i think! thank you so much for supporting me, really. i’m very thankful for everyone whose liked or reblogged any of the parts to komorebi. you are all incredible i love you. <3) 
(pssst!!! i’ll be talking about my 200 follower event soon. if you wanna participate, be on the lookout for that!!)
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speuradair · 4 years
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After School Lesson | M.N.
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(Author’s Note- This is a reupload of a fic I posted a few months ago. I realized that it was deleted at some point? I’m not sure how or why, but here it is again lol)
Word Count: 3.1k
Contains: Death mention, swearing, angst, injury
Requested: by @technolilly​
“Hi! How about a Makoto X Reader where Makoto, Kyoko, and the reader were the three most suspicious people in the Mukuro trial. During the trial, Reader takes the blame off Makoto but at the last second Kyoko throws the reader under the bus, meaning everyone voted for reader so she was executed? Alter ego saves her and then Makoto and Kyoko rescue her from the garbage? Basically just make the first half really angsty and then have a happy reunion? Feel free to change anything you want! Tysm! “
-
“Being optimistic is the only thing I’m good at.” - Makoto Naegi
-
Thousands of horrific incidents happened everyday. People got attacked, things got stolen, accidents happened. It was just a fact of life. Yet somehow, even after hearing news reports of heinous crimes everyday of your almost eighteen years of life, you’re still never prepared for anything horrific to happen to you.
Then again, this kind of thing was recognizably unprecedented. In all of those newscasts you’d heard, both actively and passively, you’d never heard about anything like this. How could you have possibly prepared to be thrown into the midst of a Killing Game? 
Though it was hard to keep track of the days while being secluded away, you were certain you’d been trapped in Hope’s Peak Academy for at least a month. There had been over 730 hours to process this, but it still didn’t feel real. Maybe on some level you were subconsciously clinging onto a false shred of hope that this was just a night terror, or maybe your mind just wasn’t willing to admit that things really were this dire. Regardless of the reasoning, you’d spent your days here in an unlikely mix of dread and apathy. You were both hyper-aware and numb. 
And somehow, even in moments of heightened tension like this one, you found yourself spacing out and losing small chunks of time. You hadn’t even noticed you’d zoned out at first, and you certainly hadn’t intended to, but you realized you’d missed the last minute or so of the Class Trial. In circumstances like this, not catching a minute’s worth of conversation could have been a deadly mistake.
“Without my room key, I couldn’t have possibly put the locker key in there myself.”
Kirigiri was still debating Byakuya’s claim that she must’ve killed Mukuro, as the key to the locker holding the believed murder weapon was found in her room. Thankfully, that meant you couldn’t have missed anything too revolutionary. You took this to be reassuring and allowed your gaze to deviate from the two arguing over to the brown haired boy standing at the podium beside yours. The trial was in full swing and Makoto looked as pensive as everyone in the room did, but he still remembered to keep a tight, reassuring grip on your hand as you stood in the space next to his. While preoccupied with pinning the culprit, there was still a part of his mind focused on comforting you. 
“Does no one have any objections? Do you accept what Kirigiri is saying?” 
After receiving only silence , Byakuya sighed. “I see. We have no choice but to accept it. It wasn’t Kirigiri who put the locker key in her room, but someone else.”
“But.. who is ‘someone else’? Toges, you had Kiri’s key, right?” Hiro questioned. 
“Yes, but I have an alibi. After 10 p.m., I was with you all. It’s not possible for me to have murdered Mukuro Ikusaba or to have put the key in Kirigiri’s room.”
“Then who did put the key in Kiri’s room?” Byakuya was quick to answer Hiro again. “There’s only one reasonable possibility- He had the key with him and pretended as though he found it in Kirigiri’s room.” “You’re talking about... Naegi?” Aoi’s voice cracked a bit as she spoke, a look not unlike betrayal clouding over her soft features. 
“That’s the only explanation.”
“That’s not possible,” You spoke up without a second thought, though your voice was weaker than you had intended, “While we were investigating in the bio lab, Makoto gave me his jacket, and there definitely wasn’t anything in his pockets then. We went straight to the garden so he could meet with Byakuya after that, so he couldn’t have stopped to get it. If it wasn’t in his jacket, where else would he have been able to hide that bulky key without you noticing he had it?”
“Hm, I suppose that is a fair point. It would have been rather difficult to conceal it just beneath his shirt..” Byakuya looked away again in thought, seemingly satisfied with your reasoning.
“He actually took off his jacket? I didn’t think he ever took that thing off...”
“Oh yeah, he totally did! (Name) was still wearing it when they came into the garden! She even had her hands in the pockets,” Aoi confirmed to Yasuhiro, her voice brighter now that her friend didn’t seem like the culprit. 
“You had his jacket, (name)?” Kyouko raised her hand to her chin in thought, “It’s true that Makoto clearly didn’t have the key in his pocket when he gave her his jacket, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t in his pocket when he got it back.”
“Huh?” 
Other than Makoto, Kirigiri was the student you trusted the most. You’d covered for her multiple times, and followed her command even when you didn’t understand her motives or reasoning. You had offered to let her stay in your room with you last night when Byakuya confiscated her key. In a normal high school scenario, you wouldn’t have hesitated to call her one of your best friends. 
She couldn’t possibly be implying what you thought… right? 
“If the key wasn’t in his pocket this morning and he never stopped back at his dorm, he couldn’t have had it when the murder took place. Yet somehow it was in his pocket by the time he needed to plant it in my room,” she spoke with an almost chilling certainty. “There was only one person who would have had the opportunity to pass the key off to him in time.”
She sounded calm, not at all like someone accusing their friend of murder. 
“Hold on-” Makoto raised his hands defensively, unintentionally tugging the one in your grasp away rather harshly. He wasn’t happy when he was under suspicion, but now she was accusing you? 
But Kyouko didn’t yield. 
“Makoto was the only person who could have placed the key in my room, but there’s only one person who could have had it when Mukuro was killed. There’s also only one person that Makoto would be willing to cover for- his girlfriend.”
“What?!” you practically spit out your response. 
“H-hold on a second! That’s not what happened!” Makoto was reeling. “Let’s think things through again! There’s something at work behind the scenes here- there has to be! This whole class trial doesn’t make any sense, don’t you guys agree?! Mukuro Ikusaba, who we’d never seen before, suddenly shows up dead… and there’s a class trial for it?! A- and Kirigiri was saying, too, that this is all a trap set by the Puppetmaster! So it’s gotta be-” 
Monokuma’s shrill voice cut off Makoto’s desperate rambling. “Okay! Time’s up!”
“What?”
“Time’s uuuup! The Class Trial is oooover! So there’s no need to talk about anything else!” 
“W- what the hell? We’re out of time?” Makoto replied first, your reaction trailing quickly after. 
“Hold on, what do you mean? That’s not fair!”
“We’ve never had a time limit!” Suddenly even Kyouko looked panicked, her restraint and conviction having vanished as the trail was definitively ended. There was no going back. 
“All thanks to your tardiness, Kirigiri! ‘Cause of you, we were tight on time! With that said, you guys, it’s Ballot Time! Please cast your ballot using the switch in front of you!”
Makoto’s green eyes met yours as you both turned towards each other at the same time. The look of pure trepidation and disbelief etched onto his features must’ve mirrored yours perfectly. 
“Ballot… time?”
-
“I’m… the culprit?” your voice was soft, almost too quiet for even your boyfriend beside you to hear it. 
“N-no, that’s not right, guys-” Makoto was immediately shaking his head in shock and confusion, his hand reaching out for yours again desperately as he tried to make a last minute plea for them to believe him. Your words cut him off though, the panic fully setting in. 
“That’s not right! I didn’t do it! Th- this doesn’t make any sense!” 
“It’s time for another super exciting, heart-pounding punishment!!”
Your gaze directly snapped to Kirigiri, who looked even paler than usual- as if the weight of what her lies had caused was setting in. You’d had her back this entire time, and she blamed you. She framed you.  “W- why me?”
“I have no illusions for earning your forgiveness, because all of this is my fault..” her response was simple and to the point, just like her answers always were. She was acting like she usually did, except that she’d just betrayed you in the most brutal way possible. 
“Kirigiri, tell them-” Makoto made his own frantic appeal for her to clear this up, to do anything to stop them from ripping you away from him. He moved urgently, throwing his arms around you and clutching you to his chest. They couldn’t just execute you when you weren’t the actual culprit, right? This wasn’t how this game was supposed to be played. 
Yet Monokuma insisted, and you were forcefully dragged away from your boyfriend’s secure embrace. 
“Let’s get the ball rollin’! It’s punishment time!”
You have been found guilty. Time for the punishment! 
The sharp fibers of the ropes around your legs and wrists dug into your skin, dispelling any chance you had at convincing yourself that this was just some bad dream. You could feel the frayed rope stabbing your skin, the sputtering of the conveyor belt below your desk, the shake that spread through the room with every 
Thud 
thud
thud
Of the giant machine pounding into the ground behind you. 
Almost against your own will, you were flailing against the chair, screaming and sobbing, begging for help. No one could help you, no matter how hard you screamed, and flailing only made the sharp rope cut into your skin more than it already was. 
This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. You’d promised Makoto that the two of you would take down the Mastermind and get out of here together, yet somehow, you’d ended up in the execution chair. For a crime you didn’t commit. This was it, this was how you went. You had lost and there was nothing you could do about it. 
You were going to be blackened, and you had to accept it.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to calm yourself, though your chest still shook with sobs. 
You thought of Makoto. You thought of how he’d been so reassuring and supportive during your time here. How he’d pull you into his side when you got too overwhelmed, or hold your hand when you investigated together. How warm he felt when he’d squeeze you into a tight hug, or how nice his jacket smelled when he let you wear it. How he could never tie his uniform tie correctly. How he had looked at you with pure love in his eyes that day while lying together under a sakura tree outside of the school, with the warm sun filtering through the petals onto your skin… when had that happened?
But a sudden new sound startled you and you opened your eyes without thinking. The heavy foot of the machine had frozen, and was now giving off a grating buzzing noise as if it was trying with all its power to still move, to still crush. 
You almost missed it in your surprise, but out of the corner of your eye you caught a familiar face flash onto the screen in front of you. Alter Ego? 
Then you were falling. The foot had stopped, but the conveyor belt had kept going and the desk rolled off of it, sending you flying backwards into the dark. 
Your eyes opened slowly, fogginess swelling in your mind as you tried to remember what happened and where you were.  Unfortunately, it only took a few moments for the violent memories of the trial and execution to come flooding back to you. The crushing block had halted, but then you fell backwards, still tied tight to the old wooden desk. Splintered bits of that desk lied around you, seemingly having shattered on impact. That same impact must've knocked you unconscious, but you were most definitely alive. Alter Ego had stopped the execution. 
You weren’t sure where you had ended up at first; it wasn’t a part of the school you’d seen before. Considering the rancid smell and large piles of garbage, there was really only one place it could be- the bottom of the trash chute. 
Pushing through the pounding headache pulsing from your neck, you stood to your feet to study your surroundings. Did you still have to watch out for Monokuma and the Mastermind, or had they presumed you to be dead? Had they all presumed you to be dead? Naturally your thoughts returned to Makoto- had he assumed you were dead? That thought made you feel even more nauseous than you had been from your probable concussion. There was a chance that everyone had written off trying to help you, even your boyfriend. You wanted to believe that he wouldn’t stop looking for you until he was absolutely certain you were gone, but your frayed nerves coaxed you to dwell on that feeling, that despair, of being totally forgotten. 
Salty tears slipped onto your lips, the sudden taste snapping you back to reality a bit. You hadn’t even realized you were crying at first. What was the point of crying now? That wasn’t going to accomplish anything other than intensifying your dehydration. The only productive thing you could do was to search for food, water or a way out. 
The large door at the front of the room was bolted shut. Of course it was. All of the food was rotten. Of course it was. With no way out and no food to eat, the only thing you could do was to give into the exhaustion- both mental and physical. 
So you slept. You hadn't really slept since this killing game had started, and though this wasn't any less tense of a situation, it was the first time in a while where there wasn't anything to do. There was no investigating to do or people to watch out for. Down here, the only thing you could do was feed that need to sleep. 
A loud thud shook the ground and startled you awake, your eyes immediately scanning the area cautiously. Nothing looked different at first, but you were certain that something heavy had just fallen down. Then you noticed that all too familiar green jacket peeking out of what must have been a new pile of trash bags. 
"M- Makoto?!" 
He groaned for a second, trying to recover from the rough landing, before his green eyes flickered open. They met with yours, and somehow, even in this twisted situation, his gaze still made your heart race. 
"(Name)! You're okay!" The clumsy boy scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, trying not to slip on the trash he'd fallen down with. He barely wasted a second to steady himself before throwing his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as tightly as he could.  
It almost didn't feel real, like maybe you'd hallucinated him out of desperation and hunger from the last day or so of being down here alone. You hugged him back just as tightly, as if he might slip away if you didn't cling to him. Despite the lingering scent of trash around you, he still smelled as comforting and nice as you remembered. He still ran his fingers through your hair soothingly like he usually did. He still felt like home. 
He was really here, he'd come to save you. 
After a few moments of clinging to each other in silence, he lifted his fingers from your hair, a soft gasp leaving his lips. “Your head was bleeding?”
“I guess I landed wrong,” you tried to joke, though your laugh was breathy and unconvincing. Your dizziness and headache implied a concussion, but you weren’t ready to volunteer that information to him yet. In turn he pulled away to look you over completely
 “You look so much better than I expected though! I kinda thought maybe you wouldn't be..." He didn't dare finish that thought. He'd come entirely too close to losing you too many times for him to even say it out loud anymore. "I was really worried about you." 
"I wasn't sure you'd come after me," you confessed softly, burying your face in his shoulder as you leaned into him again. 
"I'll... always come after you." He pressed an endearing kiss to your messy, splayed hair as a flustered blush set in on his cheeks. Even after going through all of this together and being together like you had, Makoto still got embarrassed from affection and admitting his feelings so blatantly.
“I brought you food and water.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You reached out to grab what he was holding immediately. Simple bread and water had never seemed so delicious. 
After waiting for you to finish eating, which admittedly didn’t take very long, he laced his long fingers with yours. “C’mon, we need to get you out of here.”
“How? That door is locked and there’s no way we can climb high enough to go back out through the trash chute..” 
He flashed you that knowing, assured grin that you loved so much. It couldn’t have been more than a few days since you’d seen him, but seeing him smile at you like that again was enough to make you want to cry and cling to him tighter than you ever had before. Had there been no rush to get out of this hole, you would’ve done just that. 
His free hand disappeared into his jacket pocket for just a second before returning into sight with a shiny silver key in its grasp. 
“Kirigiri… gave you the Monokuma key?” After her dedicated attempt to frame you in the last trial, you weren’t too hopeful that she would be helpful in rescuing you. “Why?”
“It’s… a long story, that she wants to tell you herself, but she’s really close to figuring everything out. She’s the one who snuck me into the trash room and down the chute,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand. “She’s waiting to let us out through the trapdoor there now. On the other side of that door there should be a ladder that leads back up.”
“She’s almost found the Mastermind?”
He nodded earnestly.
“Good. I want to get out of this stupid school. I want us to get out together.”
“Me too,” he promised softly, “But right now we have to get you out of this horrible place.”
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lilcutieana · 6 years
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PANACEA ~ Epilogue
Word Count: 3.8k
Warning: Mild angst / mention of death
Rating: 16+
Pairing: Bea x Jungkook, Taehyung x Y/N
Genre: Angst/ drama (happy ending)
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven ||
Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Final
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I felt numb, floating into the endless dark abyss of the void. I wonder, how did I end up here?
I.... Who was I?
"Taehyung"
Is that my name?
"Taehyung, wake up"
A harsh glare of Amber light assaulted my eyes and I scrunched them up only to blink them open once again, shielding with my fingers that tingled with pins and needles.
Everything around me was white and gold with hint of reds and browns every which way. Giant statues of winged angels, cherubs and demons decorated the huge room I was confined in.
Fisting the pristine white silk sheets I laid upon, I sat up without much effort, the striped pillow on my chest tumbled down and I noticed with a delay even my clothes were white. Was this heaven?
Getting out of the bed, I still didn't feel anything wrong with myself and that was odd. No hunger, pain or happiness--- nothing. I was just calm yet confused to the point it was eerie.
Taehyung. The name sounded familiar, nostalgic even. Why couldn’t I remember anything else?
There was just one door to my right, no windows and I decided to take a chance on it. Maybe I'll feel something, some emotion or pain if I cross that.
As I stood on the threshold ready to go through the door, I felt my heart come to a standstill. The rhythmic thudding I could hear all along was gone, replaced by absolute silence and yet, I felt nothing as if it were natural. Without looking behind me, I pushed open the huge white door in front of me that had no lock on it. Maybe they wanted me to escape, whoever kept me here.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I was faced with a huge hall filled with doors and winding staircases. Weird. I must be dreaming. This seems too cartoonish to be heaven. But then again, no one lived to tell what heaven actually looks like… or did they?
Y/N
The oddly familiar name came to my mind as a whisper and I didn’t know if it was something else, or perhaps, my own conscious mind. The name brought along a feeling of sadness. Something I hadn’t expected to feel at all. Why sadness of all things? What did the person mean to me? Or was it a pet?
Shrugging I walked forward and watched the white doors along my way. The winding stairs were weird, they went every which way and were too confusing, maybe, even to whoever designed them. Some led to doors, some to corridors and some to absolute nowhere.
Pressing my ear along a door, that looked interesting with swirly designs, I tried listening in to whatever it was that was hidden behind them but was utterly disappointed to not hear anything at all.
Why was everything so quiet in here?
“You have a lot of questions for someone who just woke up”
Startled, I looked back at a silver blonde haired man with cerulean eyes that sparkled with mirth. Pointing at my head, I asked confused, “Can you hear my thoughts?”
“No. But I’ve spent the last seventeen years with you. I’d know how to read your expressions by now.” He quipped with a smile that revealed his gums and made his eyes vanish behind his lids, squeezed between his cheeks. “I believe you’ve lost your memories. I’m Min Yoongi, your guardian when you were a human.”
“Oh. What am I now?”
“You wanted to be somewhat of a grim reaper before you died.” He said with a shake of his head, voice somber, “The option is still open. What do you want to be?”
“I…. I’m dead?”
“Yes. This is somewhat of a purgatory.” He spun around slowly with his hands wide open. Stopping in between me and the door I was listening in on, he pointed to it. “The door you choose would be your next life and if you don’t choose anything, well…”
“If, it was my past self who chose to be a grim reaper, then that’s what I’d like to be.” I declared, my voice steady and sure. For some reason, I knew deep down that was what I truly wanted. He wasn’t lying to me. I’d believe him in this one thing.
Looking me in the eye with his jaw slacked and eyes narrowed, he sighed at last and smirked.
“Follow me. Let’s talk while we get to where you should be.” He chimed, his voice melodic and calming. Holding onto his golden necklace with a long design that was neither a sword nor a key in his right hand, he held onto my hand in his cold left grip.
A gush of wind swallowed me whole and spat me out in what could only be described as hell frozen over. It was dark, everything in richer tones of Black, purple, reds and maroons, except, it was too cold.
“It’s been this way for the two weeks you refused to wake up. Your soul had scattered and took a long time to form back into a whole person again. The temperatures should return to normal now that you’re almost back.” He mused with a fist over his mouth, looking pensive as blue lights in various shapes and shades danced around the room.
The room itself was beautiful with an open ceiling that overlooked the night sky, snowflakes shimmering in the air from above and drizzling down like rain. I wondered how beautiful it would be during sunsets and sunrises. I wanted to share it with Y/N.
That name again. Who was she to me?
Yoongi walked towards the circular fountain in the middle of the room, gushing amber liquid instead of water and had beautiful onyx mermaid statues in it gushing water through the various shaped conch shells they held in their hands. Sitting on the edge, he patted the space next to him for me to sit down.
“I can’t tell you about your past. It’s against the rules. But I’ll let you know that you’re at the right path. You’ll remember things in time, and if you don’t…” He looked away and bit his lips.
“If I don’t?” I prompted, hoping he wouldn’t evade me.
“Then just make new memories with her. You’ll know who she is. If you fell in love with her at first sight once, it will happen again. That’s just how things are.” Yoongi gushed, his eyes sparkling with happiness.
I was in love?
“Why a grim reaper? Why not choosing another life instead?” I asked frantically. I mean, if I was in love, and I died, won’t she still be human and devastated? Or was it one sided?
“Calm down, Tae. She’s one of the grim reapers. I’ll give you a hint, she will try her best to avoid you but also silently ensure you have the best of everything.” Nodding to himself, he folded his arms across his chest.
One of the grim reapers? Was he saying—I, a human, fell in love with a grim reaper? Is that why my soul scattered after I died?
“Stop overthinking” He said, smoothing my forehead and ruffling my hair.
“Sorry, hyung.” I breathed, “It’s just... I don’t understand anything.”
“See those blue lights? They’re all souls the reaper’s collect. Only a chosen few get to live life again. You’re one of them. That’s all.” He surmised, pointing at the various blue balls dancing about like dust particles, just larger in size.
“While you were alive, I tried my best as your guardian angel to keep the two of you apart. But love works in mysterious ways and you ended up dying for her so you could be with her after death, for all of eternity. She might hate you for it, mind you.” He said, pinching my cheeks and I swatted his hand away when it started to hurt. “I held a grudge against her for hundreds of years but now that she suffered the same pain of watching your loved ones die before you, I feel guilty and…”
“It’s okay, hyung, don’t force yourself if it’s too much to talk about.” I said with a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Seeing him shake and choke up while speaking made me feel uneasy, sad and somewhat sympathetic. I felt like I was responsible, so I should console him, right?
“It’s okay. I owe you this much. What I’m trying to say is, I won’t come in between you anymore, and neither would other guardians. She’s….” Looking around, he turned to me with his eyes glinting. Uh oh… he was up to no good. “You’ll know who she is, she should be the one with the most emotional reaction out of everyone you come across is what I’m saying.”
“Aren’t you breaking rules by telling me this?” I asked with a smirk.
“What rules? I didn’t tell you about your past life or who exactly your childhood love is, now, did I?” He asked nonchalantly. Shrugging his shoulders, he held onto his necklace once again. “Do what your instincts tell you to. Remember, they are there for a reason. Follow your heart.”
 •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
I never intended to, but the building I was in charge of had changed itself according to my mood. I shouldn't have learnt the trick from the Fae, for now the whole of my little space I'd been given in heaven to keep wandering souls, had now become frozen.
It already lacked any semblance of life, except the origami plants and animals I'd folded over the centuries in absolute boredom, and now in despair.
I'd thought I was prepared for Taehyung, the pure human child, to die one day, like every human did. It was an inevitable end. I thought that if I'd distance myself from him by indulging in sexual desires, it won't hurt as much when the end came. I thought I'd come back to heaven happy to have spent a human lifetime alongside him.
Little did I know, he'd already wormed his way into my heart the first night he looked me in the eyes and called me beautiful. Who does that? To the angel of death, no less? He was an enigma. Mischievous, yet innocent. Pure, yet a pervert. Sweet, yet held grudges for ages. Caring, yet devised the most dangerous of pranks. You could never categorize him and I was always drawn to his very essence. His soul, his personality, his heart and his beautiful mind, that saw the world in a different light.
I was truly, madly, deeply in love with the idiot who fell headfirst into love with the angel of death. And nothing, not even a casual fling, with an angel who was far more knowledgeable, far more handsome, far more superior in every which way--- could compare to the feelings I held in my heart for Taehyung. 
Seokjin just wasn't enough to make me fall for him, the way Taehyung had, with just one look and just one touch. But I knew in my heart, he would be, perfect for someone else---someone whose very world revolved around him. 
He had harbored feelings for me for ages but never acted upon them until he felt me slipping through his fingers. He had always been a comforting companion by my side-- caring, sensitive, emotional, humane, observing and just downright sarcastic. He would always defend me, encourage me to be better, bring out the best in me; but somehow, somewhere, I think I'd developed feelings for him too. 
Certainly, my feelings weren't platonic. They were lustful, they were hedonistic but they were also of pure love. I loved him for who he was, who he is and who he will be. But what I felt for him wasn't as profound as what I felt for Taehyung. It just wasn't the same. But I couldn’t completely and honestly say that there weren’t times when I hadn’t selfishly taken advantage of him, his love for me and his sincerity. 
It hurt when I ended things with him the day I’d finally let myself acknowledge that what was there between Taehyung and I was far from platonic. Despite the age difference and him being a human, I had fallen in love with him and him—with me. There was no going back, there was no way to let him down easy. There was no way I could be away from him without hurting us both.
And yet, the moment I decided to let my feelings be known. The moment I decided to share his lifetime by his side, he had to play the hero and give his life away in vain. I knew if I’d stayed near his human body without the necklace, he’d die and become one with me. And still, as stubborn as I was—I’d let myself be near him, I’d let myself hold him in my arms as he took his last breath and I’d stayed as his body grew colder in my arms. 
I had lost my sanity then. And before I could ruin what was left of the Fae kingdom, I’d teleported back into my little cave of darkness and solidarity. I’d spent each day hoping his soul was happy wherever it was and checking among each soul in my little cave to ensure none of them belonged to him. 
So long as he didn’t choose to rest in peace, I’d have a chance to see him thrive again. As a human, or as an angel. He’d make a wonderful guardian. His soul was pure and determined, observant and kind with the right amount of mischievousness to stir problems once in a while. He’d be perfect. He was perfect. 
A fresh bout of tears made it to my eyes and I scrubbed frantically at them. I didn’t need more angel tears. They were useless. They couldn’t protect the one human I needed the most to. Though, they did enhance Jimin’s powers. But still… my love had to face a trial. A trial I didn’t want us to face. Not yet. 
But fate never worked the way we’d wanted them to. Despite having the power to revert back time, I couldn’t use it. Somehow, I didn’t want to disrespect his wishes. He’d said his last goodbyes. I didn’t want to make him stay. I just couldn’t bring myself to. Before I changed my mind about letting his soul rest and decide for itself, I ran away like the coward I was. 
I still couldn’t bring myself to ask about him, it had been eight years since then. I couldn’t even bring myself to see any of the other guardians or the little family I’d come to make for myself. 
I hoped Jimin was okay. He had people by his side now, but I still couldn’t face him. Not yet. I’m sure he missed me, was disappointed in me just as Seokjin had been. But I wasn’t ready to face the music, I wonder if I’ll ever be. 
I tried playing nonchalant for the longest time, drowning myself in work and mundane tasks. Even the grim reapers and the black dog of the graveyard had started to worry for my wellbeing and had confined me here until I got my act together. 
It took me five years to understand that I had to accept his death and mourn over him. But I couldn’t—especially since our connection wasn’t severed yet. I could feel him still and I knew he wasn’t completely lost. 
I hadn’t felt him for about a few weeks but then suddenly one day, there was a soft thrum of energy in my veins and I knew, he had been revived and was in heaven. But as what?  Remained a mystery still.
 By the sixth year, everyone had given up on me. And here I was, eight years after the incident, waiting for the new graduates while sat upon the fountain of ambrosia, the literal nectar of immortality—to gift the new horde of grim reapers who I’d personally test and give them a new purpose. 
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• 
I believed Yoongi hyung, I really did, but I was losing my patience. He told me how to tell who my first love was, and still, I couldn’t find her. Or maybe, I had but didn’t know who she was.
While I knew I was an immortal now, it didn’t help that time moved slower in heaven. It certainly didn’t help that I couldn’t just straight up ask someone to confirm if they knew me when I was alive. 
Most souls retained their memory but I had lost mine and I was okay with it. Really. In the eight years I spent learning about the roles, rules, and skills of a grim reaper, I’d slowly found out about my life as a human. 
I didn’t have the most common of friends. Living with a guardian angel, having a Fae prince as a younger sibling and two Daemons as older siblings sure surprised me, but I wasn’t the least bit disappointed. But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall who it was I was in love with. Every time I tried to remember, I fainted and woke up in another place. 
Today, however, I was scared. And yes, I had started to feel things little by little. They weren’t as strong as when I was a human, but they were there, in the back of my mind. And I was downright sweating and pacing around the room. I would finally graduate after all the long grueling lessons. Sometimes, I still wonder why I chose to be a grim reaper of all things. Was my love that important to me? 
But then I remembered that if I’d died for love, probably that was my plan all along. I wouldn’t just randomly let someone kill me. Not while I had perfectly capable guardians and protectors. 
“Next” 
A soft, yet demanding voice crooned from behind the dark red doors that loomed before me. The woman standing in front of me, who had been snickering behind her hand all this time—for pacing around the room in nervousness—had now jumped a feet into the air, and squeaked like a mouse, opening the mahogany door and sliding past it. I suppose it isn’t as funny when it’s your turn to face the music. 
I gulped, my throat suddenly losing all moisture, even though it was deathly cold in here just like the first time I’d come here with Yoongi hyung. It truly was my turn yet. Whoever went past the door, didn’t make it back. Where were the hundreds of people going to? Was there a portal? Or was the Angel of death truly so terrifying and cold that she’d end up taking their souls for herself. 
While I tried avoiding all sorts of rumors in this place, somehow the ones about her always drew me in. I found myself stopping and listening every time her name was mentioned. It seemed familiar, just like my own name was to me now. 
Out of every reaper out there, I’d met most of them. And if my soul shattered again today, everything would be in vain. But what if? What they were just rumors? What if she was the one I had fallen in love with? 
Then I’d get to know her all over again. Work for her, work with her and make her fall in love with me this time for sure. If our love didn’t work back then just because I was a mortal-- surely it should work now. 
“Next” 
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for whatever I’d face past the door. I knew it would be life changing… or death changing? Since … well, I was already dead. 
Okay, I suppose I’m too nervous to even make jokes like Seokjin Hyung. I knew he held a grudge against me, but I had to admit, he was an amazing angel and I’d look for him, in any case, I couldn’t find Yoongi hyung. I would trust him with my life too. He was genuine and perhaps one of the only angels who let their emotions control their actions.   
Shaking my hands to rid of the nerves, I pushed open the huge double red doors in front of me and stepped forward with my right foot. Something vague about it being lucky crossing my mind for a fraction of a moment; and then-- a black cat, a black feather and a million other images and emotions flashing by me right as I stepped across the threshold. 
I heard the rushing of water and looked straight at the woman seated at the edge of the waterfall right where I had sat under the onyx mermaid statue gushing amber liquid through a conch shell held in her hands. Her mouth was trembling and her eyes—oh her eyes, they spoke of a thousand words I couldn’t begin to describe. A trembling hand raised and held her perky lips that now were bitten underneath her sharp canines. A muted sob escaped her throat and made it past her lips. Widening her eyes, as I moved a step forward, she shook her head and leaped towards me. 
Running all the way, she collided into my chest and clutched at my suit lapels. Was she my Y/N? 
“Where…” She sobbed, her face buried into my chest, right above my heart. A heart that didn’t beat anymore. My time was stopped for me until I became an actual angel. Until I drank the nectar of gods. “Where have you been?” 
“I was always here…” Was she truly the one I loved? Her hair though messy looked regal, her eyes though sad, looked hopeful and her lips…so kissable. But what was the most magnificent of all were her absolute black wings that were folded behind her. “Y/N”
She was my Y/N. I was absolutely certain now. I knew now why when I’d lost all memory and even my own name, I remembered hers. 
She was my most precious emotion and memory that I retained when my soul shattered. She was the most important to me. The only wish I had during my last moments. 
“I think I’m falling in love all over again. Even when your eyes are red-rimmed, hair a mess and words incoherent.” I whispered by her ear, holding her close to my chest. “This time, I won’t let you go.” 
“I’d kill you if you did. And make you drink ambrosia to bring you back.” 
“I’d die a thousand deaths for you if that made you happy. Unfortunately, I can’t die anymore.” 
“I love you too. I always have.” She spoke in a whisper, a secret between the two of us. 
“And me, you.” 
I sealed the promise of an eternity with a kiss that I’d craved for the past eight years I’d gained a new life. Here, in heaven, we were finally together.
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven ||
Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Final
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totalfanfreak · 7 years
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One of Three - Chapter 14
One of Three Chapter 14 – When Irish Eyes are Smiling
Sera was in the between of waking and letting herself drift back to sleep, but the sudden draft of cold against her side pushed her brain to open her eyes. Turning over she saw one of her bed warmers sitting up.
“Conn?”
Her voice sounded like a dying frog and she cringed at it. Connor smiled over his shoulder at her, throwing on his socks and shirt. 
“Go back ta sleep, aingeal.”
She went to grab his arm. “I will if you lay back down, it’s cold without you.”
He leant down and kissed her. “Ye got ole Murph fer that. Get some rest.”
She tried not to but she sulked. “Where are you going this early? The sun hasn’t come up yet.”
“Gotta head ta work, love, thought best fer one of us ta stay here withcha after what happened.”
She was sitting up with him now, careful to not jostle Murphy. “But then you’ll be alone. It’s not safe for you two either right now.”
“I’ll be fine, got a gun on me. It’ll be okay. Believe me, I’ll be perceptive, but we can’t be goin’ and throwing all our routines out da window. Can’t let them win on that.”
She bit her lip. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have to stop your lives. I feel bad you’ve had to do that, and I’m sorry about yesterday –“
He raised his hand to silence her. “There’s nothing ta be apologizing fer. Those assholes needed ta be taught a lesson. Would do it again in a second if need be. Besides it should be me apologizin’. All that shit last night. ‘m sorry fer what I did, I’ll do what I can ta find yer brother so ye can talk to him again.”
She took his hand. “Connor there’s nothing for you to say sorry for in that either. You stood up for me when I couldn’t for myself. I don’t know what’s crawled up my brother’s ass - to stay gone that long and the first thing to pop out of his mouth is why I’m staying here…it’s not his business. I don’t like that you’re a part of this, but you are now, and whether Sapph likes it or not we’re going to have each others’ backs.”
“If da time comes, yer damn right we will.”
She wanted to say that the time would happen. But she stopped, not wanting to wake Murphy by causing a scene this early in the morning. Connor was right. They couldn’t drop everything because they were afraid. That would be surrendering. And she believed he could take care of himself if the situation arose.
“The very least I should be thanking you.”
His brows rose and her smile grew. “Fer what?”
“For defending me, of course. Rocco told me you’re the one to make him get us out of there. But…it’s more than that too. It’s for everything, Connor, you – the both of you…I know I bring it up a lot but you two could’ve walked away. As soon as I told you about me you could’ve thrown your hands up and said ‘fuck it’ but you didn’t. For some reason you let me stay and you both stay with me. Thank you for all that, for so much I can’t even list right now.”
He had closed his eyes while she spoke, opening them when she finished and went to stroke his stubbly cheek.
“Ye ain’t gotta thank either of us fer that, ár aingeal grámhara. Yer ours, we love ye, it’s what we are meant ta do fer ye.”
He ushered her back to the mattress, her body abiding from its disrupted sleep.
“Feel like I should thank someone…Maybe we could go to church or temple. I should thank Him, at least, right?”
Connor grinned. “Be a good idea, love, we enjoy it when ye go with us ta Mass.”
She hummed. “I like it too. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”
“No need fer that. Know how ta make some toast, grab me a coffee on da way.
Go back ta sleep, Sera, yer body needs ta rest. We want ye well.”
She mumbled out an ‘I’m fine,’ before her body gave in, feeling Connor’s lips on her forehead before she went to sleep. When she roused again, her whole body had chilled, opening her eyes she was alone, Murphy and Shep gone, his sheets rumpled and cold telling her he left a good time ago.
“Shep?”
Though the boys had ruined him, feeding him food off their plates and letting him all over the furniture, he remained wired that he sticks to her, knowing she needed him. Upon hearing his name Shep came darting from the stairway, and she felt bad having him used to that being his living area. He used to always be with her and with the intervals where she needed to be alone – well, she felt like he had been ignored. But if he had anything against her about it, it didn’t show, staying her sweet jovial dog.
“Where’s Murph, boy?”
His ears went like satellite dishes, going sideways and back at the name before giving a small bark as he went back out the door. Following he led her to the steps that went to the roof, making her hesitate. She hadn’t gone out there yet. To her it was their equivalent of a man cave since they had let her move in. With her things clamored everywhere, the roof was the only place she hadn’t went and touched. Shep kept nudging the door with his nose, whining.
“I know, good job boy. Don’t know if we should bother him.”
Maybe she could just peek out, make sure he was okay. Cracking the door she saw him near the edge, cigarette smoke mingling with the crisp air. He appeared alright, pensive, lost in his own world, but unharmed so she started to back up without him knowing Shep opposing that choice and winding past her legs to trot to him. She saw Murphy chuckle when the dog sat by his legs, reaching down to rub Shep’s head, turning he glanced to her from his spot his smile becoming larger, her smile back was sheepish.
“Morning there, lass.”
She gave a small wave. “Good morning, everyone was gone, thought I’d check on you.”
“All’s fine, love, be better if you’d come join me.”
“I don’t want to invade your space.”
Murphy grunted, piqued. “Don’t know what yer seein’ out here, but there ain’t nothin’ ta ‘invade.’”
She let herself look out the door, only seeing the chimney to the building as well as a few rusted lawn chairs, a few crates being used like makeshift table with beer cans littering the top, and several cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other soggy from the rain with circles drawn on it – like a bullseye.
She smiled, pointing to the stack. “Have you been practicing?”
Murph gave that smile that made him appear so young and impish. “Aye, not much different than a sling shot ta be honest. Much more kickback to it, but I been enjoying the bow. Quiet and helps me practice me aim.”
She grinned. “I’m glad it’s become useful for you…I’m going to go start breakfast for us and let you finish your cigarette.”
Sera gave a small squeak when he grabbed her to him. She glanced up shyly seeing him looking at her curious, head tilted while he chewed his lip.
“What’s got ye scramblin’ away today? Yer acting all anxious ‘round me. Is it cause of yesterday or something I did?”
The earnest way he said it had her nestling her face into his chest, smelling the tobacco and beer he must have spilt on himself the night before. It had nothing to do with him. She was the idiot here, and she knew it. She should’ve never gotten drunk last night. It was one of the numerous things she shouldn’t have done. But yesterday had to be the push to the dominoes, and soon they’d all be toppling down. Her drunken mind had made her weak, and as soon as trouble struck she had hid like a dog about to be scolded. Though she gave her inebriation some credit, if she had been sober the jolt of fear would’ve made the seizure worse.
Her dulled senses numbed the fear down making her brain turn the mess into a partial. Everyone with epilepsy had a trigger and her main one was fear. And that’s seems to be all she had going from here on. If the boys hadn’t been involved before they sure as hell were now. Those soldiers as they were known in their bratva would come back, especially when they got jeered at for getting whipped by two Irishmen. And if they had saw her…Connor and Murphy were in danger already, but if those men connected them together how would it be then?
Yeah, boss, I saw her with those two Irish fucks.
Yeah, I can tell you what they look like, and where they were hanging around.
That meant Doc could be in trouble now too. It got more unpleasant the deeper everything went. And, as always, this was going to be her fault.
“Aingeal?”
“I’m not mad at you, Murph, at either of you. It’s me. I keep doing everything wrong and…I don’t think I can put it back in the right place.”
He bent down to her, rubbing his face in her hair. “Such a pessimistic girl, things will be alright, ye’ll see.”
How could he be that sure? “I’m bad luck, Murph. God, I should’ve been there to help yesterday – I didn’t even ask if either of you were okay. Are you? Did they hurt you?”
Damn, how awful was she? Not even thinking about them getting beaten up because of her. Struggling from the embrace she looked him over. Murphy throwing her a crooked smile when she lifted his shirt to check for bruises.
“We ain’t no worse fer wear, love. Me and Conn have been in worse scrapes when we were kids.”
He didn’t seem too bad off, he had a bruise on his jaw and a small cut above his eye but it was enough for her to be guilty. And then Connor, how hurt was he when he went to work?
She forced her chin down when he tried to tilt it up, she heard him sigh. “Told ye before we’re tougher than we look.”
“Yeah, and it would’ve been fine if it was some random bar fight, but this is my fault. They were looking for me, and now they fucking know what you look like, Murphy! They might not know I’m here, but they’re not letting this go. You hurt their pride, and to them that’s enough to kill over.”
His chest puffed out. “Got some pride, too, tellin’ ye we’ll be fine.”
“I wish I had listened to you both sooner.”
“Bout what?”
“About being more aware of things, it’s just been so nice to have this. To be so normal…happy, I let myself down last night. I can’t let it happen again. If something was to happen – you two are family to me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if it did.”
He cradled her face. “Not goin’ ta tell ye we won’t get hurt, good chance we might, but ye got ta let this go, Sera. All da worry and shit you’re holding onta, it’s not goin’ ta help. We need ta stick together through this and not be focusin’ on what could be or what’s happened. Know it hurts ye a great deal, but it may be time fer ye ta let the hurtin’ from the past go.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, and she knew it made him nervous, that he may have crossed a line.
“Murphy, do you believe in forgiveness?”
His stare was curious. “Course, that’s why we repent, to obtain forgiveness.”
“But – I mean, do you think everything should be forgivable? When the person is not sorry, should they be forgiven?”
He nodded, understanding starting to come in his eyes. “I do, faith aside, it’s not about freein’ them from anything, it’s fer you, love. Ye think they’re hurtin’ and grievin’ themselves over what they’ve done? Cause they aren’t. It’s you, if yer able ta forgive, then you can let them go. I’m not sayin’ forget what they’ve done, but you need ta forgive ‘em so it’ll help ye move on.”
She looked from him at the landscape of buildings and cars before them. “And so I can forgive myself.”
“That too.”
She wondered if that was possible, carrying the guilt with her for so long had become like a crutch to her. But she knew Murphy was right, Klem, all the ones who had come after her family, who betrayed them, they weren’t feeling remorse for what they’ve done. If things could’ve been done differently she would’ve taken that path, but it was over and done with. She had already forgiven her father, the anger zapped from her with the thought of him. And she could be angry at the rest, she knew it would be a long process to get over all of it, but it was time to get over her grief. And compared to where she was barely a year ago, she was on a good track.
“I guess Leviticus was onto something about that after all.”
Murphy chuckled. “It was - let those fuckers be the ones ta bear with da guilt, not you.”
She froze, a thought crossing her. “‘Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself.’ Does that mean I shouldn’t kill them then?”
His hand came to squeeze her shoulder, pulling her back to him. “If da need arises I think da Lord will understand protecting yerself. It’s them that needs ta worry about this, not you. Come on, let’s get inside before ye freeze.”
She turned to look out once more. “It’s warmer today.”
“Aye, it’ll be spring before ye know it, most likely there’ll be another blizzard in da works before that.”
Spring, a time of new beginnings, and if it meant enduring another snowfall to get a good one then she’d deal with it. Seeing Murph holding the door open she followed after him inside. Throwing off his coat he flopped on the unmade bed, Shep bounding up to join him while she went to the fridge.
“You and Connor worked out shifts with me, huh?”
Turning onto his stomach his eyes went to hers. “Better than fighting over ye, isn’t it?”
She snorted. “I don’t see much sense in that. Besides neither of you seem to fight much unless it’s over something trivial.”
He sat up. “Trivial? And what exactly is trivial that we fight about?”
“Let’s see – who gets the good stool at McGinty’s, whose robe is whose, which one gets the last piece of food, who’s the oldest –“
“That’s not a trivial thing! Ye can’t look me in the eyes and tell me ye never fought about it with yer own set!”
She laughed. “No, I haven’t. But we didn’t have a mother who withheld that tidbit from us. But it wasn’t something we ever got mad about, unless Sapph got too bossy.”
“So he’s da oldest fer the three of ya?”
“Yep, which means he’ll go senile first.”
“Not unless one of us drives ye ta madness first, aye?”
She laughed, closing the fridge. “That’s true. Ugh, we’re going to have go to the store, Murph. There’s nothing here to cook.”
Sad, the fridge looked as it did when she first got there – only condiments, and now a lonely lemon sitting inside. They had been busy and too mixed up in things to notice.
“May as well, got nothing ta do.”
“It’ll be nice to spend the day together. Maybe while we’re out we can do something for Shep, like go to the park. I haven’t doted on him as much as I used to, it’d be good for him to play somewhere. Take Connor some lunch if you’re okay with it.”
Murphy’s smile was close to indulgent. “Whatever ye want ta do, love, I’m up fer it.”
“Oh, really? Cause you’re still in bed.”
“Just waitin’ ta see if you’d make yer move or not.”
“I’ll wait til you’re least expecting it.”
He grinned, allowing her to slip to the other room to change. When she had started to gather her things, Murphy had shot off the bed, roaming over on the table that had the bag before coming to her.
“Got this fer ye last night too.”
The gift was covered with a handkerchief, and she noticed Murphy chewing on his nail, a tic she had come well to know, when she began to unwrap it. Her eyes went to him in bewilderment.
“Oh, you got me a –“
“Switchblade, yeah, Connor told me I was full of shit fer wantin’ it. But I’d feel better if ye had it on ye. It’s more concealable than a gun and everything.”
She couldn’t help the smile that came, it was thoughtful. Him giving her that independence while keeping her safe at the same time.
“I’ll take it with me wherever I go. You know I used to have one.”
His thumb fell from his mouth then. “Yeah?”
She nodded, her mind going to two different moments in time. “It was actually Sapph’s, you know, from Boy Scouts. But when he dropped out he didn’t want it. I carried that thing for years, I lost it not too long ago. They do come in handy on occasion. But really, thank you for thinking of me like that.”
He looked borderline proud and embarrassed. “Always, aingeal. Come on, let’s take doggo out.”
Murphy insisted on driving, remaining tense from her seizure from yesterday. She didn’t mind letting him, it allowed her time to think. Her elation of knowing her brother was okay calming her, sure he was pissed off, but he was alive. Yet, like her, Rocco and his circle had been able to pin him down. Even if she was sure Roc would never harm her or her family, she was very skeptical if the rest of his associates would be the same. She wanted to know what Sapph was up to, if he was with someone that would help him, aid him, be there for him. She wanted to know where he was, how far away, if she’d ever see him. Not having the ability to be there, to know for sure how he was physically and mentally hurt her. It hurt close to the same as when he left her in the first place. Telling her the severance without the goodbye would hurt her less.
It hadn’t, if anything it hurt her more, worse than that bullet going through her, and worse than if he had died. None of the ones she loved had that choice of goodbye, their end coming too sudden. But Sapph did, and he chose to just walk away from everything.
Choking down the bitterness, she tried to look to the good. If her brother hadn’t left it wouldn’t have pushed her to leave Florida. In that she wouldn’t have moved as far away as she could, not finding her passion in art again, as well as a hope in humanity and some semblance of normalcy that she wanted to maintain in the future. Among physical reasons, one seating right next to her, these two men giving her the strength she had lost to fight back again. She was terrified of something happening to them, but was grateful they had been sent to her regardless.
Murphy, feeling the attention, turned to smile at her. “I look that good, ye got ta stare?”
She smiled, shaking her head. “That, and I’m just happy, you make me happy.”
Taking in a breath of cool air she exhaled. “I’m strangely calm today; it’s just a good feeling.”
He took her hand, grinning. “’S’a sign that’s it’s gonna be a good day today.”
“I think so too.”
After driving for a while they found a few dog parks mingled in with the regular ones, and it was wonderful to let Shep from his leash. As soon as he saw her signal that it was fine he took off, racing through the grass to the light gravel area. Being with her around the clock he got to do quite a bit of walking, but it didn’t add up the same as this. Near one of the gazebos she had found a bin of tennis balls, letting him come back to her after he finished greeting all the other dogs before she went to throw it. It had been awhile, and she worried he wouldn’t want to. But when she let the green orb go he flicked out to search for it. The sheltie raised his rear in the air to chew on his find for a moment before bringing it back for another go. After a few tosses she held out the slightly slobbered ball out to Murphy.
“Want to give it a try?”
He had been propped up on the bench, watching them while he smoked. He glanced at the ball for a bit, contemplating, before he snubbed out his cigarette.
He rolled the ball in his hand, oblivious to the wetness. “Don’t matter where it goes then?”
She laughed, pushing her hair back from the wind. “As long as it isn’t in the road, it’s fine.”
He tossed it lightly, underhand, Shep leaping up and catching it easily.
“I used ta want a dog like Shep when I was a kid.”
“Did you have any pets?”
Murphy shook his head, the messy tufts of hair sticking up and the look on his face giving her a glimpse of that little boy. She understood from a parental perspective why they couldn’t, usually the responsibility fell to them and with her being a single mom and wrangling them, throwing a dog in may have been rough. But growing up and always having a dog with her, she knew what a joy it was and wished things could’ve been different for her boys.
She rubbed his arm. “You have one now. You know Shep loves you, probably more than me.”
She saw that small smile itching to release. “Not true, he’ll be true to ye.”
She took his hand, lifting it up to kiss the back of it. “He is for you too. He doesn’t come to someone unless he trusts them. If someone was to lash at you I know he’d attack them. And that true stuff goes for me as well.”
The grin was on full display now, him ducking away to grab the ball. Seating herself on the bench she put her knees to her chest to lean her head on. They always gave her small peeks of themselves, and with the opening there she wanted to know more.
“What were you like as a kid? How it was growing up?”
He raised a brow at her question, but seeing her curiosity lowered it. “I guess not much different than anybody’s comin’ down to it. Our Ma had ta work a lot when our Da left us, meanin’ we didn’t have too much supervision. We’d get inta plenty of tussles with the other kids in da neighborhood, one talkin’ shit about us or somethin’. Conn and me kept at each other’s side. We gave hell in school, I mean we liked it and all, loved ta learn and shit made good grades and everything. But it’d get boring sometimes and we’d put some excitement in da day. Our uncle took care of us a lot when Ma was workin’ so we hung out at da bar. Not too much ta brag about lass.”
Her smile widened, letting her hand reach out to try and flatten the hair on his forehead with no avail. “I know that’s not true. But I did enjoy how I asked about you and I heard ‘we’ throughout.”
Murphy’s cheeks reddened, scratching his neck. “Sorry, used ta includin’ Connor in everythin’.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Murph. I love that you both include each other in all that you do. Hell, I’d probably end up doing the same thing. But I like getting to know you guys individually too. Mostly I just observe but I like it more when you tell me things.”
He tilted his head, eyes remaining on the ground. “Yeah, and what yer observations been telling ye?”
“I already know that you’re favorite color’s blue, you tend to look up when the skies are clear. You prefer to sleep on your stomach and usually without a pillow. You love macaroni and cheese but only the boxed kind because you hate the flour taste when it’s homemade. You have a huge sweet tooth. But where Connor loves any type of cake or pastry you’ll eat anything as long as it’s chocolate.”
Murphy had started smile, though his focus remained on the ground letting her continue. “That you like it in America but miss Ireland. That you’re an amazing son that makes sure his mom is cared for. That you’re a gentleman, but like to have a good time, if sometimes a rambunctious one. I know that when you were younger you loved photography, but chose not to pursue a career in so you wouldn’t end up hating it. And I know that you’re the sensitive one between the two of you, which isn’t a bad thing. Where Conn sees things firsthand, you feel them. Am I warm at all?”
He lunged for her then, making her shriek in surprise, the sound making many of the dogs bark as their owners watched the couple in amusement or disgruntled. She hated making such a girly sound, but with her heart racing and heat coming up her body she couldn’t give it that much of a care. Clutched to him, Murphy kissed her eagerly, and she reciprocated sucking in his bottom lip as he did her top one. The gesture causing her to laugh, which gave him the chance to sneak his tongue inside letting the vibrations of her groan bounce to him. He pulled away, and she leaned into his side watching as his Adams apple bob when he swallowed.
“Starting ta think we got a problem makin’ out in public, love.”
Her mouth quirked, licking her lips to see that gleeful look in those blue eyes.
“That might be so, but I’m not complaining about it.”
Murphy chuckled. “Neither am I. But if you’re ready ta go, I’m starved.”
“Yeah, I’m getting kind of hungry. I’m sure Connor is too, being a liar this morning that he was going to cook something when there isn’t a crumb in it.”
“Don’t be worryin’ about me brother, he scrounged somethin’ up I’m sure.”
She smiled when he held his arm out for her, letting her loop hers with his. “That might be true, but I’ve taken it as my role to keep you both fed.” Opening the car door for her, he kissed her cheek. “And we’re both glad that ye do. Probably be bad fer you though, few years from now you’ll have two sacks of blubber on yer hands.”
She snickered, while he loaded Shep in. “Off to da market then?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me.”
She always liked going to the market, it reminded her of the flea markets her mom and aunt took them to on the weekends, giving a wide array of vendors and tastes that took you across the world. After getting a cart they tried to make a path through the throng of people. Sera made sure to get plenty of canned foods and staples for the pantry so they wouldn’t have to worry about being cleaned out again. Situating those first they got to perishables, Murphy still showing contempt at the sight of the vegetables. It was fun having him juggle some lemons, causing several of the children to halt their parents to watch. He was up to seven when he lost pace, lemons falling onto the floor, but not losing stride he bowed picking up the fruit and tossing them in the cart as everyone clapped. It was turning out to be a good day. Nice, normal, it lulled her making her soul hum in contentment. Getting done, she paid the last vendor and was ready when Murphy grabbed her elbow, making her pause and see he was pointing to a wine vendor.
“Que dites-vous, ange? Peut-être que cela nous donnerait un goût authentique.” (What do you say, angel? Perhaps it'd give us an authentic taste.)
She hated that, and she suspected they knew it too. To be fair she didn’t completely hate it. But she did get angry at herself for not learning more than a few phrases of the languages the boys had acquired. But what got her, and what they probably used against her was the way the dialects affected her. As Murphy gave the slow annunciation of the words she felt herself gulp on reflex making a feline grin take over his face. She tried to smile, batting him away to push the cart, but he stopped her.
“Aww, allez, j'ai vu dans vos yeux que votre bouche s'écoule pour cela. Pourquoi ne pas lui donner un aller?” (Aww, come on, I saw it in your eyes that your mouth waters for it. Why not give it a go?)
Her knees were shaking now, her body supported by the cart. “As much as I enjoy hearing you talk French, you know I have no clue what you’re saying. Besides neither of you even like wine.”
Gripping the sides of the cart, he leaned over until he was close enough so she could smell him – that mix of smoke, sweat, and something heady and sweet she could never put a name to.
“Les deux d'entre nous n'ont jamais eu le vaisseau approprié pour l'un. Mais je crois que nous le faisons maintenant. Voulez-vous, amour? En ayant moi et mon frère dribbler du vin froid sur toi et le faire moucher? Je pense que vous le feriez.” (The two of us never had the proper vessel for one. But I believe we do now. Would you like that, love? Having me and my brother dribbling cold wine over you and lapping it up? I think you would.)
Her knuckles had turned white gripping the cart’s handle, she felt too much heat on her, in her, and it faltered her that something so simple was doing this. She closed her eyes trying to control her breathing, wanting the static that had leeched into her nerves to stop. Then she felt a feather light touch graze her neck, the warmth and wetness telling her it was a kiss.
“Je veux t'avoir une fille douce. Voulez-vous me laisser ici?” (I want to have you all to myself sweet girl. Will you let me have you here?)
The way the end tinted upwards told her it was a question, and without a thought she nodded. Whatever he wanted she’d give him. Murphy grinned, but instead of the smile of a cat he gave one that showed off his shyness. It was eager and almost unsure.
“Ye have any clue what ye said yes to?”
She tiptoed up to kiss his chin, liking the scratch from the hair there. “Doesn’t matter, I still say yes.”
He kept his eyes on her, gauging for a reaction, while his hands wandered to the hem of her shirt. The warm hand splayed out on her stomach making her shudder.
“Ye sure, love?”
She could feel the heat that was in her cheeks falling down to her neck. “Yeah, had an idea at what you were hinting at. I kind of already let it slip at what your French does to me.”
He grinned. “Aye, good ta have somethin’ at my advantage. Let’s see if there’s somethin’ more secluded in da back.”
She tucked her hair back, her heart racing. She’d never done anything like this before, hell, she hadn’t done nearly any of the things she had since meeting them but public sex. Her mother would tell her she wasn’t being respected if asked for that. Her brother would say she was being used. Her sister would shirk back at the whole idea. And her dad…her dad would never be allowed to find out. But she knew it wasn’t about any of that. Getting this far she knew otherwise, and she wasn’t that afraid – it wasn’t like they were going to rut with a crowd watching. But something else did bother her.
“Will Connor be mad at me if he finds out?”
Kisses and embraces were an anytime thing for all of them, but when it came to the full act of intimacy all three had been present. With many of this being new for her she had no idea what guidelines or boundaries could be crossed. Murphy stopped then.
“Why would he be mad?”
She was worried both their feelings would be hurt now. “I don’t know how this all works, Murphy. I don’t want anyone to feel left out or anything. I’m not sure if I’m saying this right –“
“Ye don’t want ta show favoritism?”
Her brows knitted. “Yes, but no. It’s not really about that. I can say I love you both equally, but there’s different things about you that I favor more in each of you…I don’t know, I don’t want either of you hurt.”
“No one’s gonna be hurtin’, aingeal. Only thing Conn will be mad about is that he didn’t get to ye first.”
She almost snickered at the truth in there, the two always competing.
She tugged his belt then. “We better be getting a move on then, I’ve been waiting to be filled up by something since this morning.”
Though she was comfortable in her skin, words weren’t her strong suit, better by doing than talking. Cupping Murphy through his jeans she hoped the growing bulge she felt conveyed what she wanted to be filled with. She was pleasantly stunned when Murphy pushed her with a tad more force, both stumbling in a small supply closet.
“What about Shep?”
There was no way she could grunt and groan with her dog watching. Without a pause Murphy looped the leash around the door’s knob, pushing their cart beside the door.
“Goin’ ta have ta be quicker than usual, love. But he’ll be fine out here, chase off any fucker stupid enough ta try and take our shit.”
She nodded, her face starting to burn again Sera stooped down to pet Shep, telling him to be good before she was pulled into the room. The light didn’t work inside, only shards of light coming in the cracks to help them. She was backed against something and when Murphy pressed against her and felt his way behind her back they realized it was a work table. He maneuvered her enough so he could wipe off the debris causing a small clanging when whatever occupied the area hit the ground.
She tittered, a laugh wanting to bubble. “I thought we were supposed to be quiet?” She didn’t need to see to know he was smirking. “I said quick, not quiet.” She nearly caught an elbow to the ribs when he took his coat off to put on the table for her. She tried to kiss him for that ending up with her pecking his nose instead. She heard Murphy’s throaty giggle and it made her laugh as well.
“Not as easy as I thought this would be. Books and movies make it look easy.”
Sera felt her jeans come undone. “Aye, but it’s mighty fun, ain’t it?”
She knew she didn’t have to but tilted her head to be coy. “Aye, but I may enjoy even more if you were to orchestrate this in French.”
“Oh, yeah? Juste attendre jusqu'à ce que je me coule les dents dans toi.” (Just wait until I sink my teeth into you.)
Her breath caught then, while her pants and underwear were pushed to her feet. Murphy tapped her thighs, taking her hand.
“Je dois sortir d'eux, mon amour.” (Got to step out of them, love.)
It took a few times with the motion but the third time he tapped her knee she realized she needed to kick off the garments.
“Thanks for letting me keep my shoes on…I know it’ll be impossible to get your pants off with those heavy boots on but if we get caught I want us to be somewhat even here.”
She pushed his shirt up, his arm grazing her ear when he tossed it off. Sera felt hands on her bare skin, guiding her up onto the table, Murphy’s hips coming in contact with her inner thighs. She inhaled deep when his skin touched hers.
“You are quick.”
His forehead fell on hers. “J'aimerais pouvoir prendre mon temps avec vous. Voulez-vous faire trembler votre corps et ressentir de la misère car le mienne est pour vous. Je ne peux tout simplement pas attendre.” (I wish I could take my time with you. Want to make your body squirm and tremble and feel needy as mine is for yours. I just can't wait though.)
She felt him then, the head slippery from want as it slid through her own dripping slit. She flexed her nails into his arm, sighing when she heard him his. She had no idea how many girls before her had been in this exact position with her boys, but she let herself believe she was the only one given such incredible consideration. She knew he needed this, felt that he needed this, and though Murphy was the one that jumped in headfirst without thought she knew that squeeze on her hip was his way of asking permission. It was her chance to back out, of him not wanting her to regret this or be upset with herself later on. Without sight she felt for his face with her hands bringing him down to kiss her before moving her hips to his so he could find his way in.
Letting them adjust she clasped him to her, stroking his hair the way he liked when they were going to slip. Her grip got tighter on it when he started to thrust. She wanted to say he was as bad as Connor when it came to teasing, letting himself pull slowly back out before ramming himself back in. But she knew why he was doing it. It was scary that they knew her body better than her – her nerve endings sparking to life from the hard thrusts only coming to a simmer when he withdrew. She knew she was done before she even peaked, Murphy’s incisors piercing her clavicle being her tipping point. The surprise of it had her gasping for air as if she had been smothered, Murphy’s hands lovingly caressing her but his pace picking up speed to finish with her.
Kissing her neck he put her arms around his neck as he gripped her thighs picking her up in a way that the backs of her knees were on the crooks of his arms. The angle made her quiver again, the winding inside her ready to spring. She raked her hands and nails at whatever skin she had, his and hers, the stance he had her unable to pull herself up enough to reach him. She could hear people walking around, talking, kids laughing, begging their parents for something sweet. This should make her feel guilty. She was on the verge of feeling something akin to dirty, but that wasn’t it. It was…wild. Freeing, like she had been purged from the sky only to hit ground. She had to grit her teeth to keep from howling, her legs gripping him as she finished before him again.
“God, Murphy.”
“Sssh, Lord’s name, les filles.” (Lass)
Catching his mouth she bit down on his tongue, making him jab hard into her feeling the hot stream of him thrash on her cervix. He panted, leaning on her and the table when his knees knocked together.
“Ever loving, Christ.”
“And you say that to me?”
Her voice was just as breathless, but she was able to laugh feeling his mouth twitch on her shoulder.
“It’s the only way ta express what ye do ta me, aingeal.”
There wouldn’t be much of a chance for afterglow, but she gave in to letting her hands wonder over him stroking down the unruly locks, and raking her nail softly down his neck while the other hand stroked his back then heading to the other side to go up his belly. She sighed when in return Murphy helped to bring her down too, tilting her head back to place soft kisses over her face and neck, letting his hands send tingles all down her back as they skimmed her thighs. Still buried inside her they could both feel the other’s climax. After a few minutes of indulgence she let her legs untangle dropping from him to dangle.
She scooted off the table falling towards his naked chest. “How are we going to find our clothes in here?”
She could hear the pangs of his zipper gliding up stepping away to open the door a crack.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s stolen our stuff, should give us enough light ta see what’s what.”
They had a few heads turn their way when they exited, but instead of embarrassment it caused Sera to laugh, especially when she got to see her new marking in full light. Murphy smiled at her, running a finger over his lips, anxious, like he was expecting her to be disappointed in them both instead. Sera only shook her head at him, pulling the cart behind her, making him laugh in turn when she grabbed a few bottles of wine on their way out.
“You won’t try one bite?”
Murphy shook his head at her, sipping on the soda he got with his lunch. “Sorry aingeal, but I have no fuckin’ clue how ye eat that shit.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, making a show to toss a piece of cured fish in her mouth causing him to blanch. She pointed to the hot dog he had in his lap.
“And I seriously don’t know how you eat that.”
He smirked, chancing a glance at her before moving his eyes back to the road.
“What yer people got against pigs? Bet if ye tried it you’d love it.”
“I didn’t say it doesn’t taste good, and most Jews have no problem with pork. Sapph can eat a whole pack of bacon when he gets the urge to.”
She could tell he was baffled. “If yer brother eats it, how come ye don’t?”
She shrugged. “I have before, but when my mom found out she tried to sensitize us –“
“The hell’s that mean?”
“Basically it means she dragged us out of school to go to a slaughterhouse to see a pig be turned into hotdogs.”
Murphy laughed. “And that’s why ye can’t eat ‘em? Conn and me watched the slaughter all the time, where ye think all the meat comes from, love?”
She closed her eyes tight. “I know. I know before it’s in the stores the meat all meets the same end in a similar fashion, but to see the poor thing strung up and killed, that horrible smell when they burned his skin off, and that God awful squelching noise the machines have when they make that stuff – I don’t want it.”
“And all this time we thought it was because ye were a good lil Jew.”
“I am!”
He chuckled at her again, making her smile and glare at the same time.
“Ye could at least have some bacon once in a while.”
She gagged. “Uh-uh.”
“We’ll sneak it in on ye, need it fer a healthy diet.”
She blew her lips together to keep from laughing. It stopped when they got to the plant, and after recalling that wonderful day she wasn’t sure she wanted beef to be ruined for her too. Reading her thoughts Murphy called out behind her.
“We only cut it up and pack it, love. It’s dead by the time it gets ta us.”
That was a relief, grabbing the bag of food they got for Connor she followed Murph inside. It smelled as she thought it would, the raw meat that usually permeated the boys’ clothes staggering inside. It made her stomach roll but she was able to hide it. Shep on the other hand was going crazy, barely in the lobby and his snout was up in the air detecting the delicacies he wanted not too far away. She patted his side to calm him.
“We have to stay in here, buddy.”
Murphy gazed at her, deplored, eyebrow cocked. “No, ye don’t.”
She gestured to Shep, dumbfounded. “I believe his excess hair makes him a health hazard, Murph.”
He waved her off. “No one will give a shit, love, come on.”
He took her hand then, tugging her before she gave in with a huff. The smell was worse in the back and she had to hold a hand to her nose to let it adjust to the bloody scent. Then there was the heat, being brought in from the chill it should’ve been welcome, yet this was plain muggy heat – sticking to you and not letting go until you sweated it out.
“I thought ya took the day off, Murph.”
The voice came from an older, stocky man coming up to the two as he flipped through his clipboard.
“I am, but the lass wanted ta bring Connor some food. Worried he’s gonna starve.”
She rolled her eyes at him, muttering. “Don’t act like you’d want him to.” He grinned at her, steering her to face their new companion. “This here’s McGerkin, love, we let him think he’s in charge here.”
She reached out and shook the man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir, I’m Sera. I want to thank you for giving the boys these hours off.”
She didn’t mean to sound so formal, but years of being taught to respect her elders and people in authority had kicked in at that moment. The introduction making McGerkin throw his head back and laugh.
“Oh, forgive me, child, it’s a pleasure for me ta meet ye. Never would’ve figured either of these two could get a girl like you though, ‘specially one that’s got some manners, but there’s no need fer any of that polite shite here. Will be up front and say they were right about ye being a looker though.”
She blushed. “Thank you. I’ll work on it, afraid it was beaten in me so it’s second nature now.”
Murphy pulled her into his side. “She keeps us in line that’s fer sure. So’s Conn been fuckin’ up without me?”
There was no need to respond Connor’s laughing echoing past the people surrounding him. Murphy took her past the railings to the assembly line, various people greeting her and petting Shep – that had her recoiling. When they approached Connor was still chuckling, but she stopped when she saw the humongous woman next to him. He shook his head eyes connecting towards them, he grinned, patting the giant on the arm who wrenched away with a sneer. Whatever Conn was laughing about she obviously did not like it. Coming up he kissed her cheek, and she saw the gleam in there when he went to put an arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“Hey Murph!” She noticed the raised volume of his voice, several others turning to face them.
Murphy, unsure, chewed at his lip. “Aye?”
“How many lesbians does it take ta screw in a lightbulb?”
Oh. This is why she’s mad, and this is why she looks like she’s going to murder him.
But Murphy seemed oblivious to it, grinning, wanting to know the answer. “How many?”
“Conn –“
He grinned at her, taking her shoulders with the other arm. “It takes two doesn’t it? One ta screw in da lightbulb, and one wee little lesbian ta suck me fuckin’ cock!”
Everyone laughed, used to this humor from the two, but that woman was striding over with one of the cleavers. Sera could see steam bellowing from her nose like a bull’s.
“I knew you were going to give me trouble! Giving me shit cause I’m a woman, well I’m not gonna take your male dominance bullshit here!”
Sera knew him and Murph may have old fashioned views on some things and, yeah, they sometimes went overboard with the jokes but they both respected women.
“He didn’t mean –“
The woman started to look her way and she gulped.
“Come now, Rozie, I just wanted a rise outta ye.”
Murphy stood in for him as well. “Yeah, he’s tryin’ ta break the ice with ye.”
She towered over him. “Does it look like I’m laughing, fuck face?”
Connor motioned for them to quiet down. “All right, ‘m sorry there, okay? So just relax.”
He went to touch her arm, the woman rearing back as he did and threw a punch hard enough to make Connor stagger; him grabbing onto the line to get his balance. Shep had barked at the assault, and Sera reeled him in before he could bite her. Connor started to look livid while he grabbed his nose.
“How about ye be saving that aggression for yer marches and protests and whatnot instead of –“
Sera could feel the kick like it was between her own legs and she went to help him when he went down as did a few other of the female workers. She almost went to rub it for him like a lunatic but opted to rub his back instead. Her brother had gotten injuries like this in similar fashion but she didn’t know how to help it. Pain pills and ice was all she could come up with. Seeing his face splotch purple and he kept gritting his teeth she wanted to get him home.
“You fucking slaves, kowtowing to the needs of men! C’mon, get the fuck up!”
She stood up then, already knowing she’d be eaten but not giving a shit. “So you can spout off about equal rights and misogyny like it’s nothing but when it comes to having a fair fight you cop out? You act high and moral but you don’t have the balls to back it up do you!”
Shep was growling when the woman snarled at them coming closer to her. You need to act before she does. Without thinking she hunched herself over and charged, hoping she’d hit the solar plexus. Happening in seconds a whoosh of air resounding but she didn’t go down, rather it gave her more fuel to grip at Sera’s arm before she could pull away before yanking her to the ground. It felt like her arm went out of its socket but she rotated it for a second, turning over to defend herself. But Murphy was quick enough to get in the way and strike, this time making her go down.
“Christ sake…Come on, Rocky, let’s get you and shit fer brains home.”
She was able to exhale, head lying on the floor. Lord’s name, Murph.
Forgot to add Tagger...Sorry! :(
@derpypenguin
@some-daniela
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chameleonspell · 7 years
Text
196: dawn
"What's wrong, love?" Iriel pulled the sheet taut, and moved the pillows back into place. "Hangover from Oblivion? Or just more tangles than usual?" Julan was sitting on the end of the bed, combing his hair. He shook his head. "Pretty sure you drank more than me." "What's that face for, then, like you're licking a Sload? Listen, if I've upset you somehow, please tell me, because I can't--" Julan turned to Ire with a guilty start. "It's not you!" he said. "I just feel... weird... about last night."
Ire laughed. "About what? That Nam boy was out like a candle, and gone before I woke. Nothing even happened!" An odd sort of twitch at the corner of Julan's mouth made him raise his eyebrows. "...Did it?" "No!" "Then--" "Ai, it's nothing, just... strange dreams." "Gods, me too. It's the mountain, I suppose. Or whatever they put in the ale, here." "Really?" Julan was alert, now, scanning for something. "What did you dream? Did you... I mean... was he in it?" "Was who in it? Dagoth Ur?" "What? No!" Julan screwed up his face in a specific variety of disgust that Iriel recognised. "Ohhh, I see." he smirked. "That sort of dream. Was it good? Do tell." Julan only attacked his hair in silence, avoiding Iriel's increasingly invasive pursuit of eye contact. When these escalated into attempts to sit in his lap, Julan stood up with a sigh. "I'd rather not get into it," he said. "Why ever not?" Tipped sideways onto the bed, Ire rolled onto his stomach and smiled impishly, chin propped on interlaced fingers. "I'm unbearably curious, now." "I know it wasn't real, but I still feel... I dunno. Like I cheated on you." "In a dream? Honestly, how insecure do you think I am?" Julan was flicking the comb in his fingers, lips pressed into a thin, evaluative line. "I still think you're faking about not being the jealous type." "Why? Because you are?" The comb-flicking slowed and grew pensive. "I guess I used to be, when I was younger. Shani used to get so mad, yelling at me that I didn't own her. And I get that part, but I don't get how you're supposed to stop comparing yourself to other people, when it's obvious they'd have more to offer someone than you." A shrug. "Still, it was my problem, not hers. I'd like to think I've grown up a bit." "Oh yes," said Ire, "very immature habit, jealousy. So much entitlement and paranoia. We're all completely adult and totally above that now, aren't we?" Julan was trying to maintain a straight face. "I dunno, are you?" Ire didn't even try. "Probably not, but wouldn't it be lovely if I could make it true, just by saying it?" He flipped onto his back, and grinned up. "I do want to hear about your dream, though. Who were you with? That redhead?" "No..." "Nam, then?" "No! At least... not..." Julan looked genuinely panicked, and Iriel couldn't fathom why. "I don't know," he whispered, after a moment. "He... didn't look like that. Older, stronger, more... heroic. Almost like... that statue, near the Ministry of Truth." "What, Vehk piercing the bug?" Julan's eyes were lost, unfocused, his voice as distant as if he were still wandering through some other space. "He... we were hunting. In the Ashlands at night, the air clear, the stars all..." He made a vague, bursting gesture above him. "We were tracking a monster. I... can't remember what, now, the fight was a blur of dust and speed and impact. He never stopped laughing. I... think I killed it for him, but when it was dead, he stabbed it with his spear, and pulled out its heart. He tore it in two, and offered me half, to eat." "Did you take it?" "I'm not sure. After that, I only remember... his bloody mouth on mine, pushing me down. Then he was above me, smiling, and... I had glass in my eyes, ebony in my veins, ash on my tongue. I was the land, he was the air itself..." Iriel looked at him strangely. "Are you still talking about Nam?" "I... I don't know." Julan slumped onto the bed, rubbing his brow. "After that, the dream got ugly. I really don't want to get into it." He turned to Ire. "It's like my name, you know. 'Nam'. More of a nickname or a joke than a real name. Nam just means 'zero'. Nothing." "And you think this is significant because...?" "Iya, did... do you remember seeing anyone else talk to him, last night? Anyone who acted like they knew he was there, except us?" "You're being ridiculous." "He's disappeared, but the door's still locked, and the key's on the table." "Perhaps he used a spell! Sweetheart... you really need to get over some of these weird hangups. You had a dream."
"You said you dreamed, too." "Yes, but... it... wasn't... Ugh, I can barely remember." Iriel sucked in his cheeks. "He did have strange eyes, though, that Nam boy." "You think?" "Yes, I'd never seen a Dunmer with blue eyes. If he was even Dunmer, he almost didn't look it, with that skin." "What? He had red eyes. And his skin was fine, what--?" "Oh, for gods' sake, stop trying to make me-- hmm?" Ire's dramatically flung arm had encountered a strange lump, beneath the bedclothes. He sat up, and tweaked the blanket aside. "See," he said. "No phantoms, just a careless young warrior. Look, he left his glove." "Glove?" Julan moved around the bed, and peered at it. Reached out to touch it... and then pulled back, eyes bulging. He made a noise in his throat, high and tight. Iriel looked at the gauntlet again, taking in the Dwemeris markings, the intricate design, made up of materials he couldn't begin to identify. When he tried to detect the enchantments, the force of it widened his eyes to match Julan's. As details of his dream trickled back, he put a hand to his mouth. "I remember, now." he husked. "He... said it didn't fit him any more." "What in blighted Oblivion does that mean?!" "It means... that things are far worse than we thought." next: 197: fire previous: 195: seeds beginning: 1: numb
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