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kaisacobra · 1 year ago

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Second Best - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It used to be Tara and you against the world, but now you can't remember the last time she'd ever put you first.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, brief weed mention, alcohol, mentions of throwing up, angst

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: Part two, anyone?

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 (alternate ending)

Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side. Her friends, her family, and even Tara herself. Especially Tara.

When the girl's sister left home without explanations shortly after their father, and when Christina Carpenter began what would become a long battle with alcoholism, you were there for the younger Carpenter. You held her in your arms as she cried, unsure of herself, confessing between sobs that she felt cursed, as everyone she loved eventually left.

You were already friends, of course, but from that moment on, you had made a powerful oath that almost felt like it had been signed in blood. You would never be like the others. You would never leave Tara alone.

She smiled at your promise and allowed you to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was such a small gesture, but just catching a glimpse of her dimples made you consider that promise like the words of the Bible. Little things about Tara always made your heart race and brightened your world. You eagerly awaited every day for a fleeting sight of the girl's smile, and a part of you dimmed on the days you didn't see it.

It was evident that you were in love with Tara, perhaps even more than that, as the feeling was so intense that it could hardly be described with words. However, your relationship with her was also driven by your devotion. You never made any mention of what you felt for her, too scared to even consider the idea of confessing your love and facing potential rejection, which could eventually lead to the downfall of such a perfect friendship. Yet, your love language was well expressed in the everyday actions you did for her.

It was very obvious, so much so that even Mindy had noticed. Your smart friend Mindy, who had noticed how you looked at Tara like a lost puppy and always catered to her wishes. Your observant friend Mindy, who had also noticed how Tara didn't seem to do even half of the same for you.

She talked to you about it with the best intentions, but still, you had to discuss it with Tara. How could you not? Tara was your best friend! Keeping something like that from her would be almost like a betrayal! And the young Carpenter girl obviously felt uncomfortable with Mindy's statement, finding it completely absurd.

"She must be jealous of us!" Tara said defensively, crossing her arms. Her hair gently moved to the side as she huffed. "Yeah! That's it. She probably just envies not having someone as close to her as we are."

You didn't mention how Mindy had a twin brother who literally was always with her because there was no need. Tara must be right, as usual. Instead, you just nodded in agreement and volunteered to make more popcorn for your movie night.

That doesn't mean the words of the Meeks-Martin girl simply vanished from your mind. Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side, but would Tara Carpenter always be by your side?

I'm boreddd.

Wanna do something?

It was 11pm when Tara sent you this message, the notification ding echoing through the walls of your quiet and currently calm dorm room. You took your eyes off the book you were studying, and a sigh escaped your lips as you read the words on the notification bar. It was almost midnight, and even though the next day was a Saturday, you didn't feel like leaving the college dorm and taking 2 subways to get to the Carpenters' apartment.

Especially because things had been weird since the events in Woodsboro.

You looked around to avoid the phone screen, as if that would make the message disappear along with your dilemma. The room was dark, except for the lamp lit on your desk, and you had planned to relax and watch an interesting movie, taking advantage of the fact that your roommate had gone to some fraternity party.

But it was still Tara. Even after what happened, it was still Tara, and you could never say no to the girl.

Defeated by your own feelings, you picked up your phone and thought for a few seconds before typing something decent in response.

Sure. I'll be there in 30.

You barely had time to get up from the chair when someone started calling you, the saved contact name indicating that it was your best friend. With a sigh and a grimace, you answered, quickly putting the call on speaker and placing the phone on the table so you could get ready more quickly.

"Tara?" You called out as you searched for some nicer clothes in your wardrobe. "I just sent you a message, okay? I'll be there in 30."

"No! Don't come here!" The girl answered with an urgent tone that sparked your concern. Was something happening at the apartment? you thought. Before you could let go of the shirt in your hands to get the phone, she continued speaking. "I thought we could go out? There's a party happening near campus, a guy from my class invited me."

Feeling a bit more relieved now that you knew nothing was wrong, your brain caught onto what you well recognized as Tara's sheepish tone. Your "spidey sense" for trouble seemed to be buzzing when you thought of a specific detail. "Did Sam allow you to go? At this hour of the night? To a party?"

Since the massacre last year, the dynamics in everyone's normal lives had obviously undergone some changes, but perhaps the biggest of all was the role Sam had come to play in Tara's life, as the adult presence she had always needed. Unfortunately, the younger Carpenter didn't seem too thrilled about it.

It was clear that she was more than happy to have her older sister back; that wasn't the issue. The problem was that Tara had gotten used to essentially raising herself. She didn't have a curfew, nor did she have someone breathing down her neck about her grades; she simply made the best decisions for herself and enjoyed the freedom of not having anyone hold her accountable for anything.

You knew Tara well enough to understand that this was driving her crazy. She wanted to change, wanted to move forward and not have to look back and face the horrors she endured, but she also didn't want anything to change. You knew, more than anything, that Tara didn't want anything to have changed.

Maybe that's why she never brought up the things she had said.

The girl's voice on the other end of the line snapped you out of your thoughts. "She took a shift at a bar. If we go now, we can be back before she even notices I'm gone."

"I don't know, Tara," You scratched your neck, trying to convey your skepticism in your voice. "What if she finds out? She'll be furious, and God knows I'm terrified of your sister."

"Oh, come on. If anything happens, I'll be the only one she gets mad at. Besides, Sam loves you. I dare to say she loves you more than she loves me."

Despite Tara's playful tone when saying those words, you pondered their meaning. It was true that within your group of friends, Sam considered you the most responsible and felt a sense of gratitude for your efforts in protecting Tara while she was away. It was painful to admit, but perhaps it was true that Sam loved you more than Tara did.

Especially because Tara was the one who replaced you. Not Sam.

"Come on, please!" The Carpenter girl tried again. "It'll be fun! Mindy and Chad are meeting us there!"

"Oh." You paused, a bad feeling spreading through your chest. "Do they already know about the plan?"

Tara laughed, as if you had made a joke. "Of course. I talked to you last because I knew it would be harder to convince you."

A bitter taste lingered on your tongue. There was no reason for you to have thought that Tara might want you to accompany her to the party alone, but the truth was that you could never control your wishful thinking that maybe, one day, she could see you as something more than just a friend.

But, of course, you hadn't been Tara's first choice for anything in a long time.

Still, your irrational love made you choose Tara every time. "Okay. Send me the address."

With the call ended and a notification with the address of the party, you ruffled your hair in frustration and decided to focus on choosing at least a presentable outfit for a night filled with loud sounds, bright lights, questionable drinks, and even more questionable people.

Your eyes were fixed on options of shirts, pants, and dresses, but your mind seemed determined to remind you of the same thoughts that kept you awake at night. Why were you still subjecting yourself to this? Even after what happened last year?

You remembered it had started gradually. Tara and Amber's friendship. It used to be just conversations about common interests, gossip about annoying people at school, and the usual teenage life complaints. You were still Tara's best friend, still the person she sought at the end of the day.

Suddenly, it was taken away from you. Tara and Amber seemed to grow closer, and people started to see them as a single entity. Amber became included in everything you and your friends did, and Tara's presence became scarcer in your life as she had more and more commitments with the dark-haired girl.

You became a secondary thought for Tara, as if your strong friendship meant nothing. As if your promises meant nothing. When the two of them started a relationship, then you knew you had no chance of getting your Tara back.

Still, out of love and consideration for her, you decided to stay. You still had the same group of friends, anyway, and you didn't want the atmosphere to become awkward or any friendships to be broken. You continued to do your best for Tara even if she didn't know or even acknowledge you the way she once did.

Every now and then, you think about how it could have spared you a lot if you had distanced yourself at that moment.

With your chosen outfit and an immense desire to give up, you left home and began to make your way to the party location. It wasn't too far, so you could walk, but the dimly lit streets and the silence of the late hour left your nerves on edge.

Fear had always been a constant emotion in your life. Fear of people judging your sexuality, of Tara discovering what you felt for her, of Tara growing tired of you. Eventually, this fear escalated to the fear of being killed by a maniac who wanted to kill you and all your friends with a knife.

Oh, sweet memories.

The thump of some music booming from a speaker made your walk feel a little less lonely. You began to hear the sounds and see the lights of the party as you approached the house. There were people dancing on the sidewalk with bottles in hand, and others sitting on the front stairs, passing a joint from hand to hand and laughing at absolutely nothing.

You glanced through the open window, and a hint of panic struck you as you realized the immense crowd of people packed together. How the hell were you going to find your friends like this?

Taking a deep breath, you decided to get it over with and entered the house, looking around for at least one familiar face. You tried to make your way through the people shouting and dancing together, elbowing some and pushing others. No one seemed to care anyway, being more interested in enjoying the moment.

Fortunately, your salvation came in the form of Mindy Meeks-Martin, who spotted you from her place on the couch and raised her hand for you to see. You approached your friend and you could see that next to her was an unfamiliar girl. She had shoulder-length hair with platinum highlights at the tips, and a cute face. The two seemed to be sitting close to each other, but you decided not to comment on it. Mindy would tell you eventually if this was going to be something.

"I can't believe she actually convinced you to come," Your friend commented, raising the red plastic cup in her hand in a greeting, along with her trademark sarcastic smile. "Have a little self-respect, y/n."

"Ugh. You're annoying." You rolled your eyes and looked between the two girls sitting in front of you. "So... who are you?"

The unknown girl smiled kindly and waved. "Anika. Nice to meet you."

"She's from one of my classes," Mindy quickly explained, and you noticed her hand hovering over Anika's shoulder before giving a casual nod and starting to look around for a certain person.

Realizing your thoughts were elsewhere, the twin sighed and nodded her head in a direction. "She's in the kitchen. You know, you should have some fun before you start your babysitting duties."

You smiled and began to turn. "If I wanted to have fun, I wouldn't be here. You know that." With that, you gave a final wave to the two girls and headed to the place you could now identify as the kitchen.

Being in a fraternity house, you hadn't expected to find an organized and clean room in the midst of a party, but you also didn't expect it to be this bad. Plastic cups were scattered on the floor, spilling liquids you couldn't identify, some couples were kissing, including one that was making out on the countertop full of empty bottles and crushed chip bags.

The strong smell of alcohol, smoke, and even sweat irritated your nostrils, but at least the light was bright enough for you to see what was in front of you. This allowed you to witness the exact moment when a certain girl, no more than 150cm tall, ran out of the room with her hand covering her mouth.

Muttering a curse, you sprinted after her, praying that at least she could make it to the bathroom before throwing up. You knew how Tara was at parties. Weak with alcohol but stubborn enough to keep drinking even knowing she was pushing her limits.

You still remembered the first time this happened. Amber had thrown another one of her parties, and this time, Tara was determined to drink everything she could, claiming it would be fun. You had declined her request for you to do the same, arguing that someone needed to stay sober enough to make sure the house didn't catch fire, but in reality, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of Tara if necessary.

As predicted, she drank so much that she spent 20 minutes puking in the bathroom. She asked you a few times not to worry, that Amber would show up soon to take care of her, but the girl didn't appear until the end of the party. In the meantime, you took her place, holding Tara's hair back and getting water to prevent her from getting dehydrated.

You had always been there to take care of Tara, and yet...

The flashbacks from that day gave you a sense of déjà vu as you did the same thing, but at a different party, years later. One of your hands held Tara's hair in a ponytail while the other stroked the girl's back, trying to provide some comfort as she emptied her stomach into the toilet.

When she finished, you closed the lid and flushed, leaving the girl leaning against the wall as you went to get a tissue to wipe her face. You silently thanked the closed bathroom door for doing a good job of muffling the loud sounds from the living room, as you needed something quieter now.

With the tissue now in hand, you turned to look at Tara, and your heart skipped a beat. It was unfair and almost inhumane that the girl could still look like the statue of an angel even when sweaty and weak. Your eyes traced every feature of her face, from her closed eyes to the slightly open mouth. You knew Tara's face as if it were a map, but every time you looked at her again, you found a different kind of beauty, almost like an unexplored path.

You crouched down to be at eye level with her face and began to gently clean the dirty areas so delicately that some might think the girl was made of porcelain. She shifted a bit at your touch, and a hint of her dimple began to show as she murmured softly, "Thanks, Amber."

The words that sounded so sweet and vulnerable came out of Tara's mouth like projectiles that punched a hole in your chest. Your lips trembled, and tears began to threaten to fall down your face, causing you to close your eyes to contain the flow.

It still hurt. It still hurt to know that Tara kept choosing her even after everything.

It was painful enough when Tara was attacked, and you had to anxiously wait as she went in and out of surgeries with no prognosis in sight, especially a positive one. But everything that followed caused the worst pain you had ever felt in your life.

It would be much easier to blame Amber for everything that happened. She was the one responsible for filling Tara's head with lies and manipulation in a moment of vulnerability, talking about how you were suspicious for living near the Carpenter house and not hearing anything, how it was obvious to everyone that you were obsessed with Tara and maybe had finally gone crazy because you couldn't have her.

But you couldn't put all the blame on her when Tara was the one who got scared when you visited her alone in the hospital. You couldn't ignore that Tara was the one who looked into your eyes and told you to leave, saying she was afraid of you. Saying she would never feel the same way about you.

Tara only believed your words after everything was over, and Amber and Richie were dead in the hall of Stu Macher's old house. You never received an apology, but maybe the blame was yours for not demanding one. You were so focused on taking care of Tara, as always, that you just let it slide as if it hadn't happened.

But at midnight, when you can't sleep, you wonder what would happen if Tara could choose you as the killer instead of Amber. You're afraid of what the answer would be.

But, as always, you put yourself second and bite your lower lip hard to prevent yourself from crying. Creating more distance between you and Tara's face, crushing the tissue in your hands to stay centered, you uttered the words as gently as you could. "Y/n, Tara. It's y/n."

"Oh." Tara chuckled, as if she had made an innocent mistake and not just called you by the name of her deceased ex-girlfriend. "My bad."

My bad. That's all she said.

But you continued to clean Tara, even knowing that the most you would get the next day would be a thank you if she hadn't been drunk enough to forget everything.

Love could be a real leash sometimes, but maybe you were at fault for letting Tara hold it.

You had never felt so exhausted in your life.

As you watched your friends having fun at the Halloween party, Chad and Ethan dancing on the dance floor, Mindy and Anika, as always, sitting together on a couch, and Tara drinking her whatever-number-it-was drink, you felt as if an anchor was pulling you down and waiting for the right moment to bury you under the ground.

It was a constant and growing exhaustion within you since Woodsboro. Everything seemed stacked, and you hadn't even stopped to seek help, trying to juggle everything as if everything were fine, as if a part of you weren't dying day after day.

You were trying to stay strong. For yourself, for your studies, for your friends. For Tara. But, oh, how difficult it was.

Meanwhile, Tara danced freely with some stranger, drinking a bit more of whatever was in her plastic cup. Part of you wondered if she would ever notice that you needed her help, her support, even if it were just for friendship.

But then, you remember the unspoken apologies and realize that perhaps Tara doesn't know you as well as you know her. Most likely, she may not care enough to try to notice any change in your behavior, as long as it doesn't affect the way you treat her.

It was pathetic and humiliating that you kept coming back to her and treating her as the center of your world even though the feeling clearly wasn't mutual. But the love you felt for Tara consumed you like the most powerful drug in your system. It might not be healthy, but you needed her presence to calm down, needed her to look at you to breathe, needed to make her laugh to feel your heartbeat.

And every time she laughed at one of your terrible jokes or every time she leaned on you during a movie, it was as if all the bad things disappeared just for the tiny possibility that she might be opening her heart to you, so you could finally have a chance to make her happy.

Your cloudy thoughts made the party pass quickly, like a timelapse in a movie, and you realized you had been standing in the same place while everyone else was having fun around you. How fitting.

When you really started paying attention to your surroundings, it was already too late. Sam had entered and tased a guy in the balls, and Tara had stormed out of the house completely furious. You quickly followed Mindy and Anika outside, knowing that a fight was about to happen.

The street was chilly at that early hour of the morning, and you tried to suppress a shiver that ran through your body. Most of your friends had also left the house, and all of you could see the Carpenter sisters arguing a bit further ahead. Both were angry and yelling at each other, and you knew Sam was right, but this conversation would probably be better to have in a private setting, without the curious eyes of other people passing by on the sidewalk.

You already had enough problems in your daily life without needing another Twitter post calling Sam a crazy scene maker.

"Hey, I'll try to talk to them, okay?" You practically whispered to Mindy. "It's better to resolve this at home."

"Isn't it better not to get involved?" She whispered back, but you were already determined that this was the best solution, letting the advice go in one ear and out the other. As you approached the sisters with cautious steps, their voices gradually increased and became more aggressive.

Sam noticed you approaching them and pointed at you, which caused you some astonishment, making you slow your steps to grasp the situation. "If you won't listen to me, why can't you at least listen to y/n?! She's your best friend, isn't she? At least she knows you need therapy, not drowning your sorrows in alcohol!"

Your cheeks heated up at the comment, and you shifted uncomfortably in place. The entire street seemed to be looking at your group now, urging you to try again to end the argument at that moment. "Guys, maybe we-"

"Oh, I'm sure you wish I were more like y/n!" Tara shouted and turned to you with a dark look. She was still clearly intoxicated, and her wobbly posture was the biggest indicator of that, even though she tried to restrain herself by crossing her arms over the pirate costume.

She scrutinized you from head to toe with a malicious smile that sent chills down your spine. "Sweet little y/n. Pathetic and stuck in the same place all these years. Is that how you want me to be, Sam?"

The tone loaded with disdain, even slurred by the alcohol, felt like a stab to your heart, bringing some tears to your eyes. She's drunk, it doesn't mean anything, that's what you were trying to tell yourself.

But... Drunk people usually speak the hidden truths lurking in the depths of their minds, don´t they?

Still, Tara didn't seem satisfied with what she said. "You said I need therapy, Sam, but what about her, huh? All this time, and she does nothing but stick to me. That's bordering on obsession, isn't it?"

Obsession. Exactly what Amber used to say about what you felt for Tara.

The cold of the street and the overall situation clashed to determine who would control the tremors running through your body. Shame and humiliation left your ears hot and your head dizzy, as if you were about to faint and fall onto the freezing concrete sidewalk.

"Tara, that's enough." You heard Mindy's voice closer, or maybe it was farther away. Your sense of location seemed to blend and twist along with all the other senses. The sound of something shattering reached your ears, and it could be either a bottle or your own broken heart.

"Why? She'll always end up coming back anyway." The younger Carpenter murmured and staggered with unsteady steps until she got close enough for you to smell the cheap alcohol on her breath. You wanted to move, run away so she couldn't see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but Tara's gaze left you as petrified as Medusa's.

You swallowed hard as your eyes focused anywhere but on the girl in front of you as a last attempt to escape from this torment, but it wasn't enough to prevent Tara's words from rolling off her tongue like poison.

"You know you'll never be her, right?"

Sobs escaped your throat, and you no longer felt control over your body. Unfortunately, your reaction seemed to fuel something primal in Tara. "Why do you still try?! Do you know how hard it is to ignore your pleading eyes every time you see me?! As if I'm a damn monster just because I don't want to kiss you?! It exhausts me! You exhaust me!"

"I never asked you for anything. I just... I just love you." You whispered those words the best you could with a shaky voice and quivering lips. Looking at Tara used to be the best part of your day, but now it felt so painful that your insides seemed to be squeezed.

The girl flashed a mean smile, and, for the first time, the sight of her dimples made you ache.

"Then stop. You weren't my first choice back then, and you won't be my first choice now."

More sobs escaped you, and the whole world seemed overstimulating. Lights were too bright, sounds were unintelligible yet too loud, everything seemed to tremble and crumble at your feet, and you just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and beg for that pain in your chest to go away.

Someone pulled Tara away from you, and a gentle hand rested on your shoulder, but your eyes were too watery to identify the owner. Nothing made sense, and you didn't even know how you were still standing. A physical pain spread through your body like a disease, and Tara's words echoed in your head like a siren.

Without the strength to stay there any longer, you turned around and ran as fast as you could towards what you hoped was the direction of your dormitory. It was already late, and the streets were empty and dark, but you didn't care anymore. The faint sound of an aggressive conversation faded from your ears as you ran farther and farther away from everyone.

You had always been by Tara Carpenter's side.

But now? Now, you were tired of being her second best.

#scream #scream 2022 #scream vi #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream imagine #scream x reader

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weirdsht · 6 months ago

Note

cale with idiots in love trope

- "You're cute" "hm?" "I said you look like a boot."

- casual displays of affection, hand holding bc s/o would space out and may or may not get lost (directionally challenged)

- pretending everything is casual, but they're soooo in love with each other

- "I look like a mess" "the prettiest mess"

- the kids absolutely love when they get cuddles with cale and s/o

- maybe braiding cales hair??

- whenever cale goes somewhere and can't bring them, they'd go like "I'll be going for a while" (cale) "I'll always be here" (s/o)

- stealing cales clothes bc its comfy!!

- "are you asleep?" "...no" "wanna talk?"

- "I love you" "I've loved you my entire life"

Can’t Two People Be Friends? - Cale/Gn! Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, deputy commander reader, getting together fic, vague novel spoilers, is told from Alberu's perspective, tired Alberu, save Alberu from his dumb dongsaeng, use of degrading words (e.g. stupid) but it's in a loving way, have I mentioned Alberu is tired of Cale's shit?

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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another anon said: cale who acts like a lover to his "closest confidant", though they are not in a relationship, they certainly do act like one– to the point that his crew would question them, to which they'd respond "We're just friends" "What do you mean? They look at you like you're their entire world"– which then starts their operation, get cale a lover

Cale Henituse is someone who has a lot of people under his wing. He's a heroic person busy saving the continents– no, the world. Which was why it is no surprise to find out that he has a close confidant. He has a second-in-command who helps him plan everything and is in charge of backup plans in case something goes wrong.

All of that is normal. Expected even.

What isn’t normal is how they act towards each other.

They act like… people who have a deeper relationship than just friends, for lack of a better term.

Like right now. [Name] is holding onto Cale’s arms as they navigate through this tiresome ball. Looking at him as if he had hung up the moon and the stars.

“Your Highness, you are quite close to the both of them… are we sure they are merely close friends?”

One of the nobles talking to Alberu Crossman questions as everyone watches the commander-and-deputy-commander duo dance in the centre of the hall.

“Of course they are. They have said so themselves.”

Alberu adds on at the end about how they shouldn’t inquire about another person’s private life.

However, Alberu himself is quite frustrated.

It was the truth when he said the two are nothing more than friends. And that’s what frustrates him. The two idiots can’t see the way they stare at each other. Can’t notice how they are unconsciously each other’s priority no matter what happens.

Alberu also knows that he isn’t the only one feeling this way.

No, as a matter of fact, everyone in Cale’s group feels the same frustration the future king feels.

“When will they get together? They deny their feelings as if we didn’t see them cuddling last night while reading a novel.”

On complained one day while eating the crown prince’s cookies.

“I’ve always known that our young master was quite dense in the aspect of love but… hmmm, I must say that this level is getting frustrating.”

Ron shared his own opinion as he served everyone tea.

Well everyone except the two people who are the topic of their discussion. Of course, they aren’t. For they were busy cuddling in the newly installed swing in the garden of the black castle while reading a novel. [Name] is busy platonically nuzzling their head in Cale’s chest, while Cale himself is busy platonically draping his legs over [name] as they lay down on the large swing.

‘Merely friends my ass’

Alberu thinks to himself as he watches the two from the window while sipping on the tea Ron served.

The people inside the room merely complained about Cale and [Name]’s relationship. They did not say anything about forcing them to get together and be in a romantic relationship.

And it’s not because they respect what the two have now.

No, it was simply because they didn’t need to say such things out loud. The complaints they have said out loud are enough confirmation to ensure that everyone is on the same page.

That everyone will be doing their best to show those two knuckleheads that what they have is more than platonic.

“You do know that you only let [Name] braid your hair like that. Do you realise just how much special privilege you give them?”

“What special privilege? The kids also braided my hair.”

Alberu’s dumb dongsaeng stared at him in confusion and the crown prince swears his about to have an aneurysm.

“Yes, but they are your kids. Of course, you’ll indulge them.”

“That is true…”

For a moment Alberu thought that they were finally heading somewhere.

“But [Name] is the only one who can braid my hair neatly like this.”

Turns out the only place they are heading to is back to square one.

Alberu pushed down the urge to smack a chair in his beloved dongsaeng’s face. How could he forget Ron’s existence? The Ron that does every task perfectly, but still could not braid the redhead’s hair because ‘only [Name] can do it perfectly’.

Cale better be glad Alberu didn’t transform Taerang into a hammer and threw it in his face.

“I love you, you know that right?”

[Name] had asked Cale during one of their cuddling sessions and Raon’s ears perked up.

“Of course I do.”

Cale answered casually and it got Raon’s hopes up.

“Are you guys together???”

He asked, eyes full of hope.

“What do you mean silly? Of course, we’re together, we’ve been friends for years now.”

That night Raon did not speak to any of them, and the two idiots only thought he was sick and tried to coax him to talk to them.

Subtle advances like that continued for a while before they all admitted defeat. One day Rosalyn even straight up asked [Name] how they felt about Cale. To which the deputy commander only responded with “he’s my best friend of course” before going on their merry way to steal another one of Cale’s clothes.

Just when all of them are about to give up Alberu caught the two of them talking in that same swing one night.

He was about to go back to the palace. Only went to sneak into Raon’s castle to talk to Cale about an important business that cannot be said through a communication device. However, just as he was about to teleport back he heard the two.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t in bed.”

“Wanna talk then?”

Alberu silently scoffs at them. Even their conversations sound like their married already.

They talk for a few minutes. Topics vary from the mundane to philosophical questions no one can answer.

It didn’t look like Alberu would get anything from eavesdropping so he thinks about going home.

But then…

“I know we’re both too busy. I know this will only add more burden to you. However, I must say it.”

[Name] spoke gently. Their eyes which were previously watching the stars shifted their focus to stare at Cale’s face.

“I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than life.”

That made the crown prince stop in his tracks. For a moment he remembers Raon’s complaints about how they seem to say “I love you” to each other without it meaning anything. For a moment he doubted if it was a confession.

Of course that didn’t stop him from recording the whole thing.

“I love you too. I’ve loved you this entire time. I’ll love you even after death.”

At Cale’s reciprocity, Alberu finally moved to give the privacy. He may want to see the two of them get together, but he does not want to see them kiss. A confession was enough to satisfy him.

But the irritation he feels from waiting for them to confess did not go away.

Hence why instead of going home he first went to his instructor, Choi Han.

Alberu Crossman did not say to the swordmaster. He only hands him a piece of paper before going back to his palace.

In that paper wrote:

The two idiots are finally together. I have a recording if anyone is interested. I’ll show it in exchange for a recording of you lightly smacking my lovely dongsaeng head upside-down. I’m sure my instructor will understand where I’m coming from.

Choi Han does. He greatly understands where his student was coming from.

That’s why, the next morning he was setting up a hidden recording device with a smile on his face.

Oh, he also got everyone’s permission before he set it up. In fact, most of them cheered at the thought of him physically knocking some sense in their young master’s head.

#le asks #lcf x reader #tcf x reader #lotcf x reader #totcf x reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #manhwa x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #lotcf #totcf #alberu crossman

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hypnagogics · 10 months ago

Text

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not.

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual.

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now.

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up.

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks.

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her.

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with.

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.”

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile.

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.”

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face.

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.”

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register.

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals.

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed.

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could.

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow.

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience.

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies.

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future.

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard.

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone.

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission.

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself.

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course.

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire.

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder.

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything.

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be?

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you.

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because.

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now.

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil.

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?”

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?”

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point.

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over.

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often.

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously.

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her.

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment.

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now.

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears.

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.”

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time.

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed.

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever.

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz.

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theother-victoria · 1 year ago

Text

all stars must die one day

SYNOPSIS: it’s always been him- stupidly perfect and handsome Alhaitham who you saw as the bane of your academic achievements. Three years later and now so much has changed. He misses you. He misses your endless bickering and meaningless fights. Why did you change so much? It’s a mystery he makes up his mind to resolve.

CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, gossip circle consisting of Kaveh, Tighnari, and Lisa + the rest of the Sumeru cast

TAGS: heavy angst w/fluff, academic burnout, burnt-out gifted kid, mild profanity, gn reader, reader is briefly mentioned to be shorter than Alhaitham, toxic family dynamics, 15.7k+ word count

NOTES: college decisions and my experiences from the past two years really compelled me to write this. If you’re going through burnout, know that you’re not alone and that you can do this.

this took me almost half a year to finish wtf

NEXT | LAST

There’s a comet that crosses Sumeru’s skies only once in a lifetime.

Alhaitham had heard some Rtawahsit students discussing it the other day. They were practically buzzing with excitement over the news of its reappearance.

“Isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”

“How lucky are we to be able to witness it?”

“Even our professors are excited about it!”

Alhaitham couldn’t care less. The phenomena of celestial events, while dazzling, are easily explained by science. It’s not like they were anything special either. At their heart, they’re composed of ordinary materials- rock, dust, water, and ice, plus other chemicals.

He puts it out of his mind until he’s rudely awoken one night by loud noises outside the window. A flash of annoyance runs through him as he gets up and looks out to glare at the crowd of students passing through. A glance at their berets tells him they’re Rtawahsit students. They’re trying their best to be quiet, but when it’s practically an entire Darshan on the move, that becomes a difficult task.

It seems as if he’s not the only one that was woken up. Other familiar faces are peeking through cracked-open windows. Lisa, Cyno, and Tighnari all yawn while watching the crowd of students pass by before looking at each other and following them. Kaveh, who has just woken up from his spot across the room, gives Alhaitham one last look before leaving.

Alhaitham closes the window and flops back onto his bed. He covers his ears with his pillow and closes his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep. He never cared for what other people thought or did, so why should he blindly follow the crowd? He wasn’t even curious anyway.

But for some strange reason, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tosses and turns, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, before finally getting up to put his restless mind at ease.

It’s easy to figure out where everyone has gone. All he has to do is follow the sounds of chatter. It leads him to the top of the Divine Tree the city is built upon. There, Rtawahsit students are busy setting up their telescopes while others have pen and paper at their disposal for note-taking. Professors guide said students while those from other Darshans watch on in curiosity and gaze at the sky in anticipation.

Tighnari and the others beckon him over. He squeezes himself into the secluded corner they claimed for themselves, poking Kaveh with his limbs intentionally in the process. To his surprise, you’re there too. You lean against Lisa’s arm and shoot him a little glare that lacks any real hate before turning back to the sky, glaring at him when he decides to sit in front of you and block your view.

“Look!” shouts a student. “It’s started!”

Almost immediately, everybody goes silent. Only the sounds of birds and wildlife can be heard, along with the quiet breathing of everyone searching wildly for it.

(He’s acutely aware of the warm puffs of air that tickle the back of his neck when you exhale. It shouldn’t be this distracting, but it is. Is this your way of getting back at him?)

There’s an excited gasp from a girl with her telescope. She wildly gestures toward the sky and Alhaitham sees a bright speck of light out of the corner of his eye. Several smaller meteors zip through the sky, but everybody’s attention is on the largest one. It outshines all the other stars in the sky as it speeds by, heating up into a white-hot glow and leaving a glittering trail of blue stardust behind. It is a star not of this world, speeding onward toward its destination- toward something greater.

“Look,” he hears Lisa whisper. He briefly tears his attention from the sky to see her lean toward you. “Make a wish.”

Alhaitham sees you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. What did you just wish for?

It’s gone in just a few minutes, heading toward the horizon until not even a pinprick of its light can be seen anymore. The sky is now dark again. With the main event over, most people begin getting up to return to their rooms. His eyes linger on your form, now walking away. Lisa’s voice from earlier repeats in his head.

“Make a wish.”

It’s a childish belief not rooted in reason- he knows that. But for just a second, he closes his eyes and makes a wish.

He met you at the start of his first year.

It’s too loud here. I want to go home already.

From his seat in the back of the room, he watches as spots gradually fill up as the start time draws nearer. Much to his delight, everybody leaves his spot in the back of the classroom alone, instead opting to sit toward the front.

That is until someone sits down in the row in front of him. He looks up from the pages of his book, slightly annoyed. Curses, now he couldn’t be by himself anymore. But they leave him alone and keep to themselves as the professor walks in and introduces himself and the class, so he tolerates it.

There’s a light tap on his desk. He looks up to see you watching him expectantly. He’s able to get his first good look at you now. Your Akademiya uniform is a little too big on you and the sleeves drape over your hands. Your green hat sits lopsidedly on your head and you have the air of a starry-eyed and enthusiastic first-year student.

“Yes?”

“The professor told us to introduce ourselves to those around us,” you explain. “I’m (Name).”

“Alhaitham. Pleased to meet you.”

You nod in response and turn back around. Your professor is explaining the course and handing the syllabus out, but your mind wanders toward the guy sitting behind you whom you’ve just met.

He’s cute, you think to yourself. In like, a little kid or puppy kind of way. He’s still a little short and scrawny- wait, how old is he anyway? Don’t tell me he’s one of those child prodigies that got in at a super young age… Or maybe he’s just a late bloomer, who knows?

A few weeks later, the results of your first test roll around. The 98 scribbled and circled in red ink at the top of the paper makes you nod in satisfaction. It’s indicative of a good start, but when you take a look at the board in front of the class, you see someone has gotten a perfect score.

And it turns out the culprit himself sits right behind you.

You glare at the 100% in red ink at the top of his page as if it has personally offended you. As if to further insult you, there was a small “good job!” written in the margins by the professor that you didn’t have on your paper.

“A 98? Good, but not perfect. Perhaps you should have studied more,” he nonchalantly remarks after seeing yours. Your eye twitches in irritation.

Oh, it is so on.

From that day onward, you swore to yourself that you would beat Alhaitham, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sleepless nights spent hunched over your notes and textbooks, they were all a price you were willing to pay to prove that you were the undisputed best.

Soon after, you don’t see Alhaitham in class anymore. His seat behind you is left unoccupied and you hear rumors that he opted for self-study instead- whatever that was. Despite that, he still gets top marks in everything, only serving to annoy you and spur you onward.

However, you still see him at the library, and frequently at that. It’s somewhat surprising, considering that the Akasha Terminal has the same function and is more convenient. As a result, the library is mostly empty save for the few students that are there to study materials that aren’t entered into the Akasha’s database. You’re there because you prefer the quiet, focused environment of the library to your dorm, which despite the Akademiya and its students' almost religious devotion to academics, can get a little too rowdy for your liking at times. Plus, you prefer the feeling of a physical book in your hands over its digitized counterpart in the Akasha. It makes it easier to take notes and learn that way.

Recently, you’ve found a spot in the library that you’ve taken a liking to. It’s located in the back and obscured by bookshelves, giving you some much-needed privacy while you study and it’s located by a window, allowing for ample natural light.

But apparently, someone else has already claimed it, unbeknownst to you.

“This is my spot.”

You don’t even look up from your book. The voice alone was a dead giveaway as to who was speaking.

“And? I didn’t see your name on it.”

Alhaitham sits at the seat across from you, purposefully spreading his books and other materials across the desk to push yours off to the side. A satisfied smirk twitches at the corners of his lips when he sees your eyes narrow in irritation.

“Are you here just to bother me?”

“If I wanted to bother you, I’d find other ways to do it.”

You huff in annoyance and turn the page. He watches you over the top of his book with intrigue as you alternate between reading and taking notes.

“... Will you quit staring at me like that? It’s distracting.”

“Oh? So you’re admitting that I’m a distraction?”

“You-!”

A sharp hiss to be quiet from a librarian passing by silences you both temporarily. You glare at him accusingly, which he merely brushes off.

There’s a reluctant compromise that arises between you after that. Every day after class, you would meet at the same spot in the library to study. You would sit across from each other and work independently from each other until it was time to go, where you’d then say your goodbyes before heading your separate ways. Rinse and repeat and that was what your average day looked like.

“So, what’s up with that thing between you and (Name)?”

You pause from your studying after overhearing that line and look up. Across the clearing are Alhaitham and a blond-haired man. Kaveh, if you recall his name correctly.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” replies Alhaitham.

“Is there some sort of competition between you two? Whenever I see you guys, you’re basically at each other’s throats over test scores and stuff.”

“There is no such competition. That would be a pointless waste of my time and energy.”

The urge to throw your book at his head across the clearing is strong, but you’ll settle for Kaveh giving him a doubtful expression.

“You say that and yet you’ve been putting more work into your studies than ever.”

“That’s none of your business.”

But for all your efforts, you can’t seem to catch up to him. He was always one step- or rather, one point- ahead of you. He’d always be there, subtly rubbing his achievements right in your face even though the difference is practically negligible at least half of the time.

It gets to the point where you begin to rant about your troubles to Lisa.

“Can you believe this guy? It makes me wonder if he’s a sadist of some sort that gets a kick out of annoying me.”

You’re sitting outside in one of the many gazebos around the Akademiya. Despite studying under a different Darshan, you quickly became friends with her.

She laughs lightly at your words.

“To me, it sounds like your poor heart is troubled! Shall doctor Lisa perform a checkup on you?”

You swat her hand away.

“Don’t play with me like that. And you’re not even an Amurta student!”

You hear footsteps coming down the pathway and speak of the devil, the topic of your conversation is walking toward you, his book in hand as always. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He meets your gaze and holds it for several long, agonizing seconds before looking forward again and disappearing out of sight. You shudder and look away, Lisa chuckling lightly at your actions.

“Asshole,” you grumble. “What’s his problem? And did you see how cold his eyes were? Makes me wonder if the rumors of him having a heart of ice are true…”

Lisa hesitates at that.

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, (Name).”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

She purses her lips and looks off to the side.

“It’s hard to explain, even for me. But you’ll see and come to understand in due time how acutely aware he is of the emotions of those around him, especially those he is close to.”

You think you understand the meaning of her words a few weeks later when the results of a particularly rough test greet you.

75%

Damn it, you think before roughly shoving the papers into your bag, away from the prying eyes of your classmates. I can’t falter here now. I still have so much more to do.

“I can tutor you if you’d like. I don’t offer this to just anyone, so I’d advise you to consider it,” Alhaitham says in the library later that day. You know that most people would kill for this opportunity and you weren’t blinded by jealousy to the point where you couldn’t see the benefit of his offer.

But your pride prevents you from accepting it.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’d rather do this myself.”

Another time, Alhaitham has to get up at a time when he should be asleep. Earlier that day, he had left a book of his behind and forgotten about it until now, leaving him to search the now-dark and empty halls of the Akademiya for where it might be.

He happens to pass by the House of Daena on the way and sees a solitary lamp lit in the back corner where he usually frequents. Out of sheer curiosity, he steps inside to see there’s a familiar figure hunched over the desk, clearly fast asleep with piles upon piles of books and notes stacked around them.

Alhaitham gazes down at you with his ever-impassive eyes, silently wondering what to do next. A cold gust of air blows through the library and he shivers slightly. He looks down at your exposed arms, then at his jacket, before taking it off and draping it over your form. Catching a cold would serve you no good and you’d most likely return it to him later tomorrow.

Before he leaves, his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peek at your notes.

His eyes widen ever so slightly. Much of the material scattered around your desk was far ahead of what you were and needed to be learning. Did you borrow these books and notes from upperclassmen? The handwriting is a mix of yours and someone else’s… He doesn’t see the point in you doing so- it’s all just unnecessary work, in his opinion. Either way, it’s none of his business and you can do as you please, but Alhaitham can’t help but wonder if you were doing all of this just to stay ahead- to keep up or even surpass him.

He leaves and you wake up soon after to something warm and soft covering your shoulders. It’s a standard Akademiya-issued jacket for the fall and winter terms. It’s way too big on you and the sleeves completely cover your hands. Curiously, you pull it tighter around your form. It smells nice- like old books and coffee- and you suddenly realize who it belongs to. Your face suddenly flushes and it’s not from the warmth of the jacket.

Alhaitham-!

The next day, Alhaitham arrives at his usual spot in the library. You’re sitting across from him as usual and interestingly refuse to make eye contact with him.

Sumeru’s climate has always been temperate, but the days are getting longer and warmer now. You’ve finally shed your winter uniform for your spring one and with the end of the year rapidly approaching comes major tests. The library is the most packed it's ever been with students everywhere cramming last-minute. It’s rare to find an empty table now, but thankfully your spot in the back with Alhaitham is still left unoccupied. If not, Alhaitham’s cold glare is more than enough to scare them away.

For one of your classes, it’s a project instead of a test. You have the option to choose the type of project, but for some stupid reason, your professor was still assigning partners instead of being able to choose.

“And (Name), let’s see… hmm, I’ll pair you up with Alhaitham. How does that sound?”

Your blood runs cold and you hear your classmates snicker around you. You want to scream at the prospect of it. Sumeru would sooner freeze over before the two of you cooperate and he knows it. You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye, daring you to say no.

You swallow your pride and nod. The tips of your ears burn and at that moment, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“... That sounds fine.”

How humiliating.

Later that day in the library, he’s even more infuriating than normal, if that’s even possible. His face betrays nothing but you can hear the smugness dripping from his voice and mannerisms. His arms crossed in front of his chest, the way he would subtly look down on you with that know-it-all gaze… it all made you want to punch his (handsome) face.

“Don’t fall behind now,” he says once you’ve finally settled on a project.

“Let’s see if you can even keep up with me.”

Your project is relatively straightforward but involves a lot of cooperation between you two. As you work, it becomes an all-too-common sight to see you arguing everywhere you go, much to the irritation of others.

“I’m telling you, this character has to be symbolic of rebirth! Why else would we see it so concentrated in scripts that were dated toward the end of that civilization?”

“You seem to be forgetting that this has also been seen elsewhere. Besides, there are reasons to believe that it means something else.”

“What, did it get lost in translation? If you think you’re so smart, then go ahead and enlighten me.”

You glare at him as he sips his coffee (with milk and two sugars, you note. Just the way he likes it).

“God, can they just kiss already?” grumbles Kaveh from where he sits across the room. Lisa and Tighnari sitting at the same table nodded in agreement.

“Meeting up to work outside of class is normal, but over lunch? Sounds like a date to me,” complains Tighnari while not-so-subtly eyeing the way you animatedly bicker with him.

“Hey, isn’t this Alhaitham’s treat as well?” asks Kaveh. Tighnari’s ears twitch and perk up at his question. He glances at the both of you- Alhaitham just paused to ask if you’d like a refill of your tea, and you said yes- before groaning.

“It sure looks like it…”

Lisa decides to take matters into her own hands.

“Are you two arguing or flirting?” she asks in a loud voice.

“Arguing!” you retort. Alhaitham merely rolls his eyes and steals one of your samosas while you aren’t looking.

“I saw that! Give it back!”

“Too late.”

Two months, lots of bickering, and lots of coffee later, you present the culmination of your work to the class. For all the headaches and lost sleep you had to endure, your efforts are handsomely rewarded with a perfect score and rare compliments from your professor. And for that alone, it was well worth everything you went through.

“Good job. It was a rewarding experience working with you. I daresay that our arguments aside, we make for a decent team.”

You look up to see Alhaitham.

“Oh? A rare compliment from the stoic and sharp-tongued man himself?”

“Don’t make me retract my words.”

“Ouch, how cold of you.”

When you return to your dorm later that night, there’s a note addressed to you from Lisa.

I overheard one of your professors talking about you and Alhaitham with someone else today- Professor Behnam, I think that was his name? I’m fairly sure this was after you guys presented because they mentioned that briefly. I wrote this down in a hurry as they were speaking, but here’s what he said:

They complement each other perfectly. While they both have unmatched erudition and wit, one has the creativity and uninhibited ambition the other tends to lack. However, he is more pragmatic and logical. Despite their differences, they make for a perfect team.

They will surely be among some of the best scholars the Akademiya has seen in a long time.

You end your first year tied for the top of the class with him.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome home, (Name)! How were your last few weeks at the Akademiya?”

Your parents’ home is as warm and welcoming as always. The house has been freshly cleaned and is practically shining. They take your bags and usher you into the kitchen, where your favorite dishes are sitting on the kitchen table, freshly cooked for dinner with steam still rising from them.

“It’s been fine,” you say. “Stressful, but also enjoyable. I like my classes and I get along with my classmates and professors.”

“How are your grades? Have they been finalized yet?”

You nod and beam them with pride.

“Ended the year at the top of the class.”

Your parents’ eyes widen and they clap excitedly.

“That’s our child!”

“As brilliant and talented as always!”

“Good, keep going! Remember to study for money!”

“I will!”

Your mother leans in close and clasps your hand in hers. “After these four years, you should continue your education and become a sage! Maybe even work your way up and become the next Grand Sage!”

You balk at the prospect of it.

“A-A sage? Mom, there are tons of talented people in the Akademiya- that’s where the best of the best go to study! The chances that I’ll make it to that point are slim!”

Your father clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Nonsense!” he exclaims. “You ended this year at the top of your class, you know. Besides, you inherited the intelligence of both your parents- I’d imagine that this would be a doable task for you. Also, imagine how amazing it would be if you were to become a sage! You’d be the first one in the family! Wouldn’t that be such an achievement for us?”

“That’s not even true! There was someone else who tied with me for the top of the class as well and if I’m being honest, he has a better shot at it than me!”

Your mom’s eyes sharpen and you instantly regret saying that.

“He? So… a guy, huh?”

You mentally brace yourself for a barrage of questions.

“What’s his name? What’s he like? How smart is he? Is he good enough for you? Does he have-”

“Dear, stop it,” your father says. “Look, you’re overwhelming them.”

You sigh and shake your head. “For starters, his name is Alhaitham-”

“Alhaitham? I’ve heard that name somewhere before… wait, I remember now!” exclaims your father. “His grandmother was a Ksharewar scholar. His mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and his father was a mentor in Haravatat.”

“Was?” you ask. Your father bites his lip and looks away.

“... His grandmother passed away a few years ago and from what I heard, so did his parents when he was young.”

“Oh.”

The kitchen is silent for a few moments before your father breaks it.

“Wait, (Name), why do you look so surprised? I thought you knew this already, considering he’s your rival and everything! I thought you would at least know something about him.”

“Dad, that’s exactly the point- we’re rivals and I don’t want to know anything about him! All that matters is beating him at his own game and that’s that. Besides, he never tells me anything about his personal life, so why should I do the same?”

“They’re right, you know.”

Your father merely rolls his eyes at your mother’s remark.

“You know the rules, don’t get too close to him now,” your mother warns. “You have to do whatever it takes to be the best, whatever? That’s what you promised us.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, mom, I know. I’ll do my best to become a sage.”

Your parents lean in to hold you close, your mother giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“That’s our child. Make us proud, ok?”

“I will!”

After a lovely three months of summer vacation (and not being forced to see Alhaitham every day save for the rare occasions where you’d run into him in public- you’d immediately turn the other way and act as if nothing happened), you head back to the Akademiya for your second year. Like last year, you share many of your classes with the bane of your existence, although things are… less tense than they were before. The underlying spark of competition is still there, but not as prominent as before.

Alhaitham is pleasantly surprised at how you’ve mellowed out over the summer. Something in your eyes has hardened and the way your mouth is set is different now. You’ve lost some of the baby fat in your cheeks (shame, he enjoyed poking and prodding at them, much to your annoyance) and you’ve grown a bit taller as well. He’s grown taller as well and to your irritation, he’s gaining on you. He’s put on some muscle as well and according to Kaveh, who you befriended over the summer, he’s started learning the art of the sword.

(“What for?” you had asked back then. He had merely shrugged.

“Too much free time on his hands, I guess. I thought he was training to be a mercenary at first.”

“I just can’t imagine him with a sword. In my mind, I see him toppling over from the weight of it.”

“Same here.”)

On the first day back, you merely greet him with a nod and you’re less opposed to working with him than before- although you can’t seem to break the habit of making a sarcastic jab at him now and then.

As the year progresses though, Alhaitham notices a change in you- namely, your test scores. He catches a glimpse of them sticking out of your folder at the library.

85%. 75%. 83%. 79%. They’re not as good as they were last year but they aren’t a concern for Alhaitham. As far as he knows, you’re still doing good overall and your classes are getting harder. It’s only reasonable and he hasn’t observed any noticeable or drastic changes in your personality, so it doesn’t warrant any concern.

That is, in his eyes. The same can’t be said for you though.

You didn't realize how much time you had spent studying until the library was closed one day. Sitting at your cramped desk with your roommate you barely know nowhere in sight, you’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is. Normally, you’d hear at least something- people arguing down the hall and music playing, among others. But today, it was eerily silent.

From the back of your mind, you recall news of a party that was supposed to be happening around this time. Lisa extended an invitation to you but you turned it down, claiming that you had to study. It was a bullshit excuse, now that you think about it.

(Lisa had looked at you knowingly when you said that, but not in a good way. Worry was present in her eyes, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t do anything.

“Alright,” she had said. “Just… don’t head down the path I think you’re on.”)

Your pen freezes mid-stroke as a horrifying thought crosses your mind. You now finally understand the true meaning of her words.

Have I… been making the right decisions? How much have I missed out on?

Your books and the allure of good grades tempt you, but you force yourself to evaluate your life so far. You have some of the highest marks in the entire class but you realize you have almost no experience or connections, and that was what really mattered.

All of the studying in the world can’t compare to pulling a few strings, after all.

Not long after the year starts, Alhaitham notices that you’ve started going out more. You’re spending less of your time at the library during weekends and instead spending time with friends in the city.

(“You actually have a life outside of the Akademiya. I’m surprised.”

“I should be the one telling you that.”)

“Come on, (Name), come join us at the tavern tonight! We booked the place and everyone is going to be there! You’re missing out if you don’t, just saying…”

The familiar voice belonging to a certain blond makes you look up. You huff a sigh and set your notes down to glare at Kaveh, who has been pestering you to go to a party at Lambad’s Tavern tonight. You’re about to tell him you’re not interested when you stop just short of saying so.

Will I regret saying no?

“(Name), you’re young right now! Take some risks and live life a little, otherwise, you’ll have nothing to look back fondly on once you’re all old and wrinkly! That old dusty rock-of-a-friend Alhaitham would say the same thing, you know… although, maybe he’d phrase it differently.”

Kaveh’s right, you realize. I can make up a test. I can always study later. But I’m only young for a little while. I can’t make up for lost time.

“Just curious- what’s in it for me?”

“Oh, the usual. Free food, entertainment, a break from these stupid books, alcohol- oh, and you might get to see a rare drunk Alhaitham there! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“No need to venture into that territory. You already had me at the free food part. So, what time?”

Later that evening at the tavern, you realize Kaveh wasn’t kidding when he said everyone was going to be there- he really did mean everyone the moment you step inside. Lisa is the center of attention with wide-eyed students gawking at her alcohol tolerance- seriously, how is she not drunk yet?- while Tighnari stands in the corner with his ears folded over and eyes squeezed shut. Cyno’s glare is more than enough to scare anyone away as he leads the fox hybrid upstairs toward a quieter spot.

There’s enough alcohol being passed around to knock a Sumpter Beast unconscious. You only have a few drinks, not wanting to be hungover on a weekday. At one point, a familiar voice drifts its way over to you.

“(Name), over here!”

It’s Kaveh, and… Alhaitham next to him is drunk from the looks of it? His face is flushed and he stumbles as he walks with Kaveh being the only thing stopping him from faceplanting onto the floor.

“I thought Alhaitham could handle his alcohol?” you ask as you sling one of his arms around your shoulder and make your way out the tavern.

“He does, but he tried a new type of alcohol tonight that was stronger than he expected. Fire-something… it’s from Snezhnaya, if that explains anything.”

You glance at his heavily flushed face again and sigh.

“Yeah, that explains everything.”

After lugging Alhaitham across Sumeru City and up the many steps leading to the Akademiya, you’re prepared to say goodnight to Kaveh and head back to your dorm when you feel something latch onto your shirt. It’s Alhaitham and even in his drunken stupor, he’s surprisingly strong.

“Wait.”

“What is it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation. His answer is instant.

“Don’t go,” he slurs out.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. Don’t take anything he says at face value.

But even so, you spot the opportunity to tease him.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because… you’re one of my only friends.”

You go quiet at that. Nothing could have prepared you for that response. Every witty remark and sarcastic jab you had prepared on the tip of your tongue fizzled out instantly. Even Kaveh, who has no shortage of words when it comes to Alhaitham, falls silent.

In the year or so that you’ve known Alhaitham for, he’s never been one to get close with people, instead preferring to keep them at arm’s length. Most likely, it’s the alcohol inhibiting his filter, but you can’t ignore the little flutter in your stomach at his words.

“I guess you are one to me as well, Haitham. I-”

“Say that again.”

His sudden demand makes you pause. Despite his drunken state, there’s a fire in his eyes that briefly makes you question whether he’s sober.

“... I guess you are one-”

He stops you. “No. Not that. Repeat what you said at the very end of it.”

“Haitham?”

“Call me that again.”

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

A smile creeps onto your face now that you’ve finally caught on. How cute.

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

And secretly inside, you’re happy. Happy that someone considers you a friend for the first time. You no longer feel dehumanized from idolization or isolated from everyone else and you realize it’s what you’ve been secretly wishing for this whole time.

“Goodnight, Haitham.”

It’s now a common occurrence between you two to drag each other to activities on the weekends. One day, it’s Alhaitham camping out with you late at night to go stargazing. (“(Name), this is boring.” “You can go home if you want. I won’t stop you.” “Hmph.”) Another day, it’s him inviting you to the various coffee shops throughout the city and sampling their beverages. (“The shop we went to last week does a pour-over better.” “You think so too?”)

Another time, you’re heading back to the Akademiya after a day of shopping and playing Genius Invocation (he lost miserably several times in a row to you, much to his embarrassment). It’s been overcast the whole day and the air has been humid but you nervously brushed off the weather’s warning signs.

Something wet lands on your cheek. You blink and look up, then at the ground where raindrops are rapidly dotting the surface. You meet Alhaitham’s gaze, the rising panic in your eyes apparently visible because he pulls you toward the souvenir shop, where you both seek shelter against the escalating downpour. Sheets of rain crash against the ground and the sides of buildings and the gusts of wind make the trees sway violently.

(You both, like idiots, forgot to bring your umbrellas. In the middle of Sumeru’s rainy season.)

You can barely see past your two feet but you can make out something moving nearby, and it’s getting closer. Small, gray, and most definitely sopping wet, it’s… a cat?

The small creature pauses and runs as fast as it can toward you. You take your hat off and scoop it up, where it meows pitifully and sneezes. A quick check tells you that the cat is a girl.

“(Name), what-”

“Look, Haitham,” you whisper as you shrug your jacket off and dry the cat. “Poor baby must have gotten stranded and lost in the rain. She came running to us for help.”

The cat shakes off the last of the rain clinging to her fur and now you can see that she resembles Alhaitham quite a bit with her gray fur and green eyes. You wonder if she has his attitude as well…

“I wonder if she’s someone’s pet cat that ran away.”

“She’s probably one of the city’s many strays. I don’t see a collar on her.”

“She’s well-fed for one…” you grumble, noting her plump belly. “So, can we keep her?”

“(Name), you know animals, unless they’re service animals, are not allowed in Akademiya dorms.”

“That hasn’t stopped people though. Someone on my floor snuck their pet cat into the dorms and it’s an open secret among all of us.”

“But still-”

And then you hit him with puppy eyes. The edges of your mouth quiver and turn down, while your eyes soften and go wide.

“Please?”

His resolve crumbles instantly.

“Fine. But you’re keeping it.”

You sheepishly smile. “About that…”

What now?

“My roommate is a blabbermouth and a stickler for the rules. If I kept her, she would be gone and back on the streets before noon tomorrow.”

“Are you suggesting that I take care of her?”

“Are you against it?”

“Taking care of an animal is a big responsibility, (Name). One that requires time and-”

“I can help you take care of her. With the two of us looking after her, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being optimistic or oversimplifying the problem here.”

You roll your eyes and Alhaitham looks off to the side.

“I’ll have to ask Kaveh-”

“Kaveh would be over the moon at the prospect of you bringing home a cat. You know how much he loves animals. This cat will be in good hands under his and our care.”

Looks like he now has no other choice but to say yes. He heaves a deep sigh and looks back up at you.

“Fine. I’ll keep her in my room.”

Your face lights up.

“But first, we need to give her a name.”

You scrunch your brows and think for a moment.

“How about Thamina?”

“Thamina,” he repeats. “Meaning valuable or priceless. It fits well.”

You become a frequent visitor to Kaveh and Alhaitham’s dorm after that. It gets to the point where Alhaitham gives you his copy of the spare key so you could come and go as you please (to which Kaveh gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores for his own sake). At first, you primarily visited to take care of Thamina, but at some point, you began visiting primarily for him.

Study sessions slowly move from the House of Daena to his room, with him at his desk and you sitting on his bed. Thamina bears witness to the heated debates shared between you two in the late hours of the night and the quiet moments of studying. Alhaitham is there to keep her company throughout the day, but she patiently waits for you after a long day of classes. She watches as you two steal each other’s belongings and food (occasionally joining in if she smelled fish in the box you brought home from a late-night dinner). When there is a disagreement between you two, she’s there to help you reconcile in the form of demanding affection and cuddles.

But when she and Kaveh are fast asleep, only you two are privy to the heavy conversations that happen once and are never brought up again.

“Tell me more about your family, Haitham.”

He freezes, then casts a suspicious glance at you over his shoulder.

“Where is this question coming from? And why?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to know more about the people that raised you to become the person you are today.”

“... My grandmother raised me,” he says after a moment of hesitation. “I admittedly don’t know much about my parents- only that my mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and my father was a mentor in Haravatat. They both died in an accident, thus leaving me under my grandmother’s care.”

You make yourself comfortable on his bed and nod, urging him to continue.

“My grandmother was a Kshahrewar scholar. By the time I was born, she had already retired. As such, she had a lot of free time. We did a lot of things together.”

He pauses to recount his fading memories of her.

“She liked to bake. Her desserts were on the sweeter side, but I have the recipes. I can tweak them so they’re less sweet for you.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“She liked to cook as well. I’d often wake up to the smell of food in the kitchen and she’d be there at the stove. She’d make my favorites and always save most of it or the best parts for me. Unlike with baking, she never used any recipes for her cooking. I’ve tried to imitate her dishes, but it’s never exactly the same as I remember.”

Haitham’s bed is comfy, you note. You pull the covers over yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Were you a chubby child who was spoiled by grandma?” you tease.

“Yes,” he admits.

You giggle. “I wish I could have seen you as a kid, chubby cheeks and all.”

There are baby photos his grandma kept that he now has, but he’ll never tell you that.

“Like you, she was more of a tea person than a coffee person. She liked hers sweetened while I liked mine more plain. She never knew where she left her reading glasses and she’d always ask me to find them. When I was younger, she’d read a bedtime story to me every night. If there was nothing we were doing, I’d spend the whole day on her lap as she read the books of my choosing aloud to me. One of the last things she told me was that I was so similar to my father, both in nature and appearance. And more than anything else, she was kind.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Yes. I miss her a lot.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing person,” you sleepily mumble. “I would have liked to meet her.”

The last thing you hear before finally drifting off is Alhaitham’s whispered response.

“She would have liked to meet you too.”

And the next night, the conversation is equally as heavy.

“Hey, Haitham.”

“What is it?” he whispers back.

“Do you think that.. I don’t know, that I’m not quite who I used to be?”

Alhaitham sets his pen down.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do you think I’ve changed in more ways than one?”

“Well, you’re less annoying now.”

You give him a well-deserved jab on the bicep with the end of your pen. Much to your annoyance, he doesn’t even flinch and continues.

“The way I see it, change is inevitable. We all fight and run from it, but it eventually catches up with us. It is neither good nor bad. Rather, it’s what you make of it. But to answer your question, yes. You’ve matured more mentally. You’ve realized there’s more to life now. You’re learning how to live life on your own terms now, aren’t you?’

Your silence tells him everything he needs to know.

“Tell me, Haitham. What do you wish for?”

Alhaitham is a simple man with few desires. If all his basic needs and simple wants of books and time to himself are met, then he is content. But your question has him thinking. Is there anything else he wants in his life?

And it turns out the answer is yes.

“Regardless of how things turn out in the future, I’d like to be able to continue talking to you like this. That’s my wish.”

Kaveh stirs in his sleep. Thamina rolls over and makes biscuits on your lap. A small smile creeps onto your face. You turn away and resume your work. He does the same.

It’s a mundane scene- two Akademiya students pulling another all-nighter to complete their work. And yet…

Yes, this is what I want, Alhaitham thinks to himself. Everything I could ever want means nothing if you aren’t here.

The spring semester comes around and with that comes the finals grind. You’ve thrown yourself into your studies in a last-minute attempt to save, in your opinion, your failing grades since you aren’t at the top of your class anymore. (Alhaitham thinks you’re insane- you’re still in the top five.) As if to rub it in your face, you get a letter from your family one day.

We heard that you’re no longer at the top of your class. What happened?

Your eyes and mind glazed over the rest of the letter until the end.

Study harder. You can end it the same way you did last year if you would spend more time on it. Don’t get distracted now.

A rare instance of frustration flashes through you and before you know it, you’ve ripped up the letter and tossed it in the trash.

Who told them that anyway?

“Lisa… graduated early?”

The news comes to you over dinner one day when you ask where Lisa is upon realizing she’s not there. You’ve just finished all your finals and you want nothing more than to relax and catch up on some sleep, but news regarding your best friend makes you temporarily forget about those plans.

Cyno nods. “It’s a whole thing now. They’re saying she’s the best student the Akademiya has had in the past 200 years. Once in a generation is what they’re calling her now.”

You bite your lip and look away. A weak “tell her I said congratulations” is all you can get out as envy begins festering deep within you. You’re ashamed of yourself- she’s your best friend, for Archon’s sake, you should be feeling excited for her- but you just can’t.

Why couldn’t it have been me instead?

You end your second year third in the class, with Alhaitham at the top.

“Welcome home, (Name).”

The house is a little chilly when you step inside. Dinner has already been prepared- it’s sitting on the table- but it looks like it was made some time ago. Your father ushers you into the kitchen, where your mother waits expectantly, her lips stretched into a thin smile when she sees you.

There are the usual dinnertime conversations- how has your day been? Fine, yours? Same old, same old- but they feel stiffer than usual. It doesn’t flow and you find yourself internally wincing at the heavy silence between you.

“So.”

You pause and look up at your mother, who has finally broken the awkward silence surrounding the kitchen table.

“We heard you… didn’t do so well at the Akademiya this year.”

You freeze and internally brace yourself for what is to come.

“Only third this year? (Name), you were first last year, how come you couldn’t place first again? That’s not so hard, is it? You just have to put some effort in, stop being so lazy, and you’ll do fine! Besides, it’s only your second year, what could be so difficult about it? We know you’re smart and that you could’ve easily been first again. You’re just getting complacent, that’s all! Do you really want that Alhaitham to beat you at your own game? How humiliating would that be for us? Think of the embarrassment we, your poor mother and father, would face from others in the Akademiya- our golden child (Name), who was once someone people aspired to be, but now nothing but a disappointment!”

“Your mother’s right, (Name),” says your father. “We have high expectations for you, or should I say, had.”

Their disappointment cuts deep into your soul, yet something quietly snaps inside you. You glare at them one more time before slipping away.

“I’m not hungry anymore. I’ve lost my appetite.”

You go to your childhood room and lock the door behind you. Your parents’ voices- most definitely talking about you- drift up the stairs and you do your best to tune them out. As if to mock you, hanging on the wall across from you are all the awards you won at academic competitions throughout your life. Trophies, ribbons, certificates, and medals line every bit of space available, all of them with your name and a first-place title proudly engraved onto them.

Now that you think about it, were you really happy with being the best? Your younger self would laugh and say “of course!”, but why exactly?

And then the realization hits you. You personally felt nothing being the best at everything. The title, the fake smiles, and the forced compliments from others- they couldn’t mean less to you.

You were only happy because your parents were happy. Were you ever happy with yourself- with who you were as a person? You don’t know.

Stars live for an incredibly long time, but they too must die out one day. Their reserves of hydrogen gas will inevitably run out and they will either go out with a bang or a fizzle depending on their size. Larger stars go out in a blaze of glory, expanding up to several times their size before exploding and bathing the universe in the remains of their supernova for eons to come, while smaller ones condense from the gravity pushing inward and shrink down into a cold white dwarf, destined to drift across the universe alone for the rest of time. That is your fate, yet you do not know it yet. The last of your fuel has finally been spent, and the end is nigh. Whether you will go out with a bang or fade into obscurity is something only time will tell.

You’ve had enough of the stifling atmosphere in the house.

It’s only been a few days since summer vacation began and you’re already at your wit’s end. The heavy silence hanging in the air and their passive-aggressive comments toward you make you want to tear your hair out. Or run away. Maybe both.

There are still lots of days left before you start class again. Surely there’s something you can do until then…

And then it hits you: traveling throughout Sumeru! You were born and raised in the city, but you’ve rarely ventured outside of its borders. This could be a good chance to expand your horizons and gain experience!

So without further ado, you pack your bags, plan a route, and begin your adventures. Most of the time, you’d leave at dawn before your parents woke up and return late at night after they’d fallen asleep. Sometimes, you wouldn’t return for days, instead choosing to camp outside or stay at a friend’s house for a while. From what you’ve heard through your neighbors and friends, your parents don’t seem to care what you’re doing either. Some of your friends even say that they look happier now that you’re out of the house. The notion stings, but you don’t dwell on it for too long.

There’s a strange sense of peace you feel throughout your travels that’s foreign to you. Whether it’s camping out underneath the stars or scaling a rocky cliffside, you’ve never felt more attuned to yourself than now. You gradually discover more about yourself that you otherwise would have never known. You like stargazing even more after seeing the expanse of the night sky and all its stars for the first time without the light pollution of the city. You like to swim, as demonstrated when you dove headfirst into a river for the first time and felt the cool waters wash over your skin. You’re decently skilled with a bow and arrow after Tighnari gives you some lessons and his old bow to keep yourself safe on your travels.

Most importantly, you discover how to find happiness by yourself. After being told your whole life what you could and couldn’t do, being able to take control of your life was a liberating feeling.

You end up seeing Alhaitham quite a bit during this time. Strangely enough, he was always one of the first people you’d see returning back to Sumeru City. He’d always give you a subtle nod when he noticed you staring at him before leaving. Sometimes, he’d even be there to wish you a safe trip- no, not sometimes- almost all of the time. It’s basically a given that he’ll be there to see you off at this point. How he hears about it every time, you have no idea but you aren’t complaining.

“Leaving early as always, I see. Where to this time, (Name)?”

You pause from checking your supplies to see Alhaitham standing behind you.

“I’m heading down to Gandharva Ville to spend some time in the rainforest. But you’re up this early just to wish me a safe trip? I didn’t take you for a morning person.”

“I’m not. But someone should see you off each time, and if your parents won’t do it, then I will.”

“Y-You… how did you know?”

“Know what?” he asks while stepping around to help you with your bag. “All I know is that I’ve never seen them send you off or welcome you back.”

“So be it then,” you grumble. “It’s not as if I care.”

So he doesn’t know about our strained relationship yet, you muse to yourself. That’s surprising, considering how big mother and father’s social circle is…

“You’re all set now. Best you head off before it gets too hot.”

“I will. You take care as well.”

He watches you leave through the city gates until you’re no longer in sight. A rare expression of longing crosses his face then and only after lingering for a few more moments (with his eyes trained on where you once were) does he leave.

He was lying when he pretended to be unaware of your family situation. When you’re hailed as one of the best scholars in recent times in a land that has a borderline fanatical dedication to academics, everything pertaining to you will be scrutinized and monitored. Your sudden decision to leave Sumeru for extended periods of time, and the way your parents refused to talk about you or changed the topic whenever you came up… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

For your sake, Alhaitham hopes you would return later rather than sooner so you wouldn’t have to hear what was being said about you.

“You seem to have gotten good at this,” he remarks over coffee and desserts when you return several weeks later. Alhaitham notices you’ve put on some muscle. There are some new scars and the bow slung on your back is an unfamiliar sight as well. “You would be a perfect candidate for the Adventurer’s Guild.”

You laugh. “Nah, it’s not for me. As much as I enjoy traveling, I don’t think I could earn my living through it, plus I won’t be able to keep it up once I’m all old and wrinkly.”

“Tell me about your adventures though. Where did you go?”

Your eyes light up and you begin rambling excitedly about your travels. You go into great detail about your time spent in the Avidya Forest and your spontaneous decision to travel to Liyue, which catches him off-guard.

“Liyue?” he repeats when you mention it. “So that’s why you were gone for several weeks instead of days. I’ve never been there before. Tell me, what was it like?”

Your smile grows even bigger and your eyes may as well have been stars from how brightly they were shining.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the architecture- actually, wait, I should be telling Kaveh this- but it was so pretty! The food was super good too and a friend I made shared some of her recipes with me. I have a feeling that you’ll like them so I can teach you some other time! Ooh, and you can’t miss the scenery for the world! Personally, my favorite was…”

You’re so caught up in reliving and telling your adventures that you fail to miss the fond look in his eyes and the rare hint of a smile that stretches across his face.

You’re halfway through recounting your way back home through the Chasm when you happen to glance at the clock and the realization begins to set in.

“I have to get going now,” you explain as you hurriedly gather your belongings. “I’m meeting up with some other friends in a bit. But thanks for the coffee and sweets. Hopefully, I’ll see you around again sometime soon?”

The chime above the door jingles as you rush outside and Alhaitham is left alone with his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he takes a look out the window and decides to address the thoughts about you that have been on his mind lately.

You’re annoying, there’s no doubt about that. You love to push his buttons and purposefully irritate him. You’re an overachiever and you care too much about what other people think. For the longest time, your whole personality consisted of your academic accomplishments and nothing else. You’re a people pleaser and you long for acceptance and praise from others- two things he thinks are utterly useless coming from other people. The moment someone questions your abilities, regardless of who it is, you begin to second-guess yourself and waver. Ridiculous, in his opinion. You know your worth and skills better than anyone else, so why are you letting their baseless accusations affect you? You’re easily affected by rumors and your self-worth is determined by what others think of you.

But you have a warm and welcoming demeanor that’s rare in the cutthroat halls of the Akademiya that draws others to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy traveling and you have a major soft spot for animals, especially cats. Whenever you’re in the city, you always stop to pet all the strays roaming around, no matter how long it takes. You enjoy sweets- not the overly cloying kind, but the ones that have a touch of sweetness to the point where you can just taste it. Your favorite dessert is the Padisarah Pudding sold in the Grand Bazaar and he’s stopped by so often that the vendor knows his name, face, and order by now. You’re more of a tea person than a coffee person, but he has your coffee order memorized just in case (iced, with two sugars, a splash of milk, and rosewater) and he’s the one that has been mysteriously supplying your favorite tea whenever it’s running low. He notices you like to ramble about things you’re passionate about (and he willingly- gladly- listens too).

And he’s come to realize that maybe you’re not as insufferable as he thought you were. You have a brilliant mind and you’re one of the few that isn’t put off by his blunt nature. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, flaws and everything.

You’ve always been envious of him- he’s known that ever since he met you. Because of him, you have strived to prove yourself as better in all aspects. A stupid rivalry is what it started off as with your pride getting the best of both of you. But throughout these three years, you’ve only brought out the best in each other.

At this point, he doesn’t feel complete without you.

He’s well aware of the question hanging over people’s minds whenever they see the both of you together. You are the sun, the golden child of your parents who are renowned within the Akademiya and held to the highest level of scrutiny. Their judging gazes, eyes that fixate on every move of yours, comments whispered behind your back- you take them all in stride. Meanwhile, Alhaitham’s presence is glossed over when you’re there. To many, he is just another Akademiya student that they will see in passing and forget about immediately. In that aspect, he is the moon that hides from others. Those who were acquainted with his parents or his late grandmother may recognize him and speak with him, but he mostly goes unnoticed and ignored.

But free from the prying eyes of others, Alhaitham is able to sleep peacefully at night. Your fitful sleep, on the other hand, is plagued with dreams of what-ifs and the looming fear of disappointment from others. You’ve always succeeded, not because you craved success, but because you feared failure and how others would react.

The rising moon admires the sun because of the boundless love they receive from others. On the other hand, the setting sun is envious of the moon for his sweetest dreams that they can only long for.

You enter your third year with a sense of apprehension that wasn’t there before. Your high hopes for yourself are still there, but they’ve been dashed considerably. But despite your lack of ambition now and your experiences from last year, you still (attempt to) throw yourself into your studies, knowing that this year is where the challenge begins. Your first two years were just warmups, or nothing, according to your parents.

Your first few weeks go well, but before you know it, you find yourself lost and overwhelmed by the material.

I… don’t understand any of this. But how could this be? I’ve spent so much time.

Your test scores don’t reflect your efforts either.

45%. 50%. 63% 67%. 55%. 38%.

“Damn it!”

You slam your fist onto your desk table as the results of another failed test greet you. You had spent so much time preparing for this one, only for your efforts to be rewarded with a slap to the face.

You can’t keep going like this. You need help, and desperately at that, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

You’re smarter than everyone else, you don’t need help, a familiar voice comes into your mind. You’re the pride and joy of our family because of your grades. Don’t let us down now.

You look out the window, the heat still simmering in your stomach.

“What a load of bullshit.”

“... I saw your test scores earlier today.”

You glare at Alhaitham with poison in your gaze that was never there until now. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels strangely uneasy, like his body is warning him to stop.

“And? Here to mock me for it?”

“No. On the contrary, I want to offer you my help.”

Oh, the humiliation. Look at how far you’ve fallen.

“Forget it,” you snap. “I don’t need your help.”

You get up and leave, slamming the doors shut behind you. It echoes through the House of Daena and the other students there turn to stare at Alhaitham in silent shock. He’s stunned too. Although you can have quite the sharp tongue at times, you’ve never lashed out at him like that before.

A few weeks later, the results of another test are announced. Alhaitham’s name sits at the top like it always has. His name is on everyone’s tongue as they jealously grumble over the results once again. His eyes examine the list, searching for one name in particular, until he finds yours at the bottom of it.

He pauses, then turns around in time to see you storming out. He doesn’t miss the looks your classmates give you- mocking, ridiculing, scornful, and disgusted sneers that relish in your downfall. The jealous grumbles about him now turn into titters and sneering whispers with your name now being trampled upon by those that used to extol your virtues. It’s all noise and it grates his ears until he can’t stand it anymore.

“What a waste of time.”

The noise stops and everyone turns to look at him.

“You all have the energy to complain about your own scores while making a laughing stock of someone else. It’d be better spent on improving your own scores- unless you’re just that incompetent?”

Later that night as you’re studying, you get a message from your parents through your Akasha. It’s the first time you’ve gotten anything from them all year. After hesitating, you open the message.

It’s short and simple but your heart sinks and your temper flares after reading it. You rip your Akasha Terminal off and toss it to the side.

Don’t come home this year.

“I need your help. I’m asking for a friend.”

Alhaitham looks over his book at you. It’s the first time he’s seen you all week and to be frank, you look awful. Your hair is a mess, your uniform is wrinkled, and your skin looks dry and dull.

“Do I know them? If not, then I won’t help.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up exasperatedly. “Ok fine, yes, you know them.”

“Well, why won’t they just ask me themselves? Why trouble you?”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. Just answer the damn question.”

He leans back and knowingly looks at you.

“They’re going through a tough time right now,” you explain, choosing each of your words carefully. “They aren’t doing good in their classes and they’re trying to get back on track, but they don’t know how to.”

“... This is for you, isn’t it?”

Damn, he saw right through you. Were you that obvious?

Alhaitham goes back to reading his book. “I can’t say I would be of any use here. After all, I’ve never been in that position nor would I let myself get there.”

You feel your temper flare once more. You clench your jaw and try to reign in your anger before speaking to him.

“Well, duh. You’re also not helping either.”

“Really? I think it’s a perfectly reasonable answer.”

“Put yourself in my shoes for once, would you?”

He sets his book down and looks at you.

“You asked me for my advice and I told you what I would do in that situation. I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”

“That’s because it’s not the answer I’m looking for!”

“That’s on you for expecting others to somehow know what you want without telling them.”

“You-!”

You groan and run your hands through your hair. Is it just you or is he being more insufferable today? Can’t he read the room for once?

He continues. “If you wanted someone to only tell you what you wanted to hear, a mirror would be a better audience.”

“Alhaitham, all I’m asking from you is a little empathy. Is that so hard to have?”

“And is it so hard for you to stop throwing a hissy fit just because I didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear?”

His words are all spite and knives meant to hurt. They lack the usual lighthearted tone he has with you. You feel it coming- the barbed words that are poised to strike and cut deep, but it doesn’t help when he begins speaking again.

“You asked for my help and I gave you advice. You’re not in a position to be complaining here.”

“Yeah, well, your ‘advice’ isn’t what most people would consider as help.”

He scoffs and looks away before looking at you once more- like he’s looking down on you, you realize. There’s something akin to disgust and impatience in his gaze that makes you freeze despite all your sharp words earlier.

“How irrational could you be? You reject everyone’s help even though you need it and you don’t listen to anybody’s suggestions. You’re too caught up in the conception that you’re always right and everyone else is always wrong. You’re childish, (Name), that’s what you are. You’re like a child still naive and ignorant, content with playing with their toys and games and ignoring reality. You’re not cut out for the Akademiya. You never were.”

He laughs and now you realize just how much it hurts when it’s directed toward you.

“And you’re telling me that my ego is overinflated. No wonder you’re failing everything. Archons, (Name), you’re utterly hopeless. What did I ever see in you?”

The silence that fills the space afterward is enough to make Alhaitham immediately regret his words. You angrily glare at him and Alhaitham’s heart sinks when he recognizes the emotion present in your eyes.

Utter hate.

“... For all these years, I've heard so many rumors about you but chose to brush them off,” you begin. “I was so stupid! I should have listened to them! They say you’re cold and heartless and only now do I realize that they were right. They say you’re not human from how cruel you are- archons, dammit! Look at me!”

The sudden demand makes Alhaitham nervously glance toward you after avoiding your gaze this entire time. You sniff and wipe away the few tears that managed to spill over. Losing your composure in front of him, the perfect and poised genius, was already humiliating enough, but you hold his gaze long enough to let him see. Let him witness the results of his own actions and the prospect of losing someone he cared about (all over again).

“You’re an absolutely horrible person, Alhaitham. I hope you remember this.”

Alhaitham. It’s the first time you’ve used his full name ever since you befriended him and the implications of it sting.

He reaches out toward you. “Wait-”

You slap his hand away.

“No, we’re done here. I thought you could at least understand, but you’re just as uncaring and self-centered as everyone else here. And I once thought that you were better than anyone else here, but only now do I realize how stupid I was."

You laugh sardonically one last time.

“My parents were right. They would have been so much happier if you were their child.”

Alhaitham doesn’t see you again for several weeks after that. It’s as if you’re purposefully avoiding him and it gets to a point where he’s beginning to get concerned about your health and safety.

Currently, he’s meeting with Tighnari. Out of everyone, the fox hybrid had the highest chance of knowing with his keen sense of hearing.

“I’m concerned about (Name).”

Tighnari’s ears twitch in response.

“They aren’t the same person anymore. You’ve seen it too.”

The fox hybrid sadly nods. “They’ve been consumed by rage and self-hate. I see it in their eyes and the way they lash out. They’re angry at themselves and at everyone around them and it’s completely understandable considering the situation and the response of those they trusted most. Still, it’s not healthy if they continue like this. Speaking of which, were they always this temperamental?”

Alhaitham shakes his head. “No. To be clear, they’ve always had a sharp tongue but it was always lighthearted. They only started getting truly angry this year.”

“Lashing out or displaying signs of anger is often a common symptom of burnout. I’m fairly confident that’s what (Name) has. Specifically, academic burnout. But I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Alhaitham uncomfortably avoids Tighnari’s prying eyes.

Tighnari’s eyes narrow. “Look, (Name) is a great friend to me as well, but why are you telling me about this? You’re in their Darshan so shouldn’t you know more?”

“I haven’t heard anything about them either. I got concerned after they didn’t show up at the library for a week. From what I’ve heard, they haven’t been showing up to class either for the past few weeks, which is strange for them. I’m asking around- maybe I’ll find something out that way.”

Tighnari shakes his head. “Sadly, I don’t know why either. If it helps, some people have said they haven’t even seen them. Not just at the library or at class but in general. It’s almost as if they’ve just… disappeared.”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between them. Tighnari stares at Alhaitham curiously and he rests his chin on his hands.

Alhaitham doesn’t have a good feeling about this…

“Speaking of which, does the fight from earlier have anything to do with this?”

“You knew?”

“Please. When two of my closest friends get into an argument as big as that, I’m bound to find out eventually. So, did it have anything to do with this?”

“... Yes,” he admits. “I feel guilty and I want to apologize to them.”

“Well, better late than never,” grumbles Tighnari under his breath. The stink eye he sends his way doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham.

“Why do you care for them so much?”

The question comes out of nowhere and leaves him reeling.

“I suppose it’s… because I consider them a friend?”

Archons, that answer sounds even more pathetic out loud than it did in his head and Tighnari knows it.

Tighnari heaves a long sigh that makes Alhaitham pause.

“You absolute lummox!” he snaps. “I always knew you were somewhat emotionally constipated but I didn’t think you’d be this dense…”

He suddenly stands up and stares the ashen-haired male in the eye, his tone softer this time.

“You’re in love with them, Alhaitham. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately.”

Alhaitham immediately scoffs. “No, that can’t possibly be-”

“You, who hates sharing what you consider yours, share your notes with them.”

“It’s a win-win situation for both of us. We’re in the same Darshan and we’ll be able to learn better from each other.”

“But them, specifically, when there are countless others that would kill for the chance to learn from you?”

“They can figure the material out themselves. Plus, I stand to gain no benefit from what they have to offer.”

“What, so only (Name) can keep up with you?”

“Precisely.”

Tighnari sees the opening Alhaitham has created and takes advantage of it.

“Are you sure that you’re still rivals? Even though (Name) is…”

“Of course. It’s been like that since day one.”

“Huh, that’s interesting. Because from what I know, academic rivals don’t go out to lunch together. They don’t go stargazing even though a certain someone finds it mind-numbingly boring. They don’t sneak out past curfew and break Akademiya rules on a daily basis, and they certainly don’t spend hefty chunks of Mora to make the other happy.”

Tighnari has Alhaitham backed into a corner and he knows it.

“Kaveh knows as well.”

“And?”

“And you still let yourself get roped into his schemes to make them happy. Look, I know this isn’t a good time to bring him up considering…”

He gestures at the empty space, a silent indication of Kaveh and Alhaitham’s broken friendship.

“But there’s no denying that Kaveh did and still does care about you. Why else would he be willing to put in so much time and effort to make them happy? Because in addition to being their friend, he knows that when they’re happy, you are as well. And if that doesn’t mean something, then, I don’t know what else does.”

“We’re just friends,” he argues once again. Tighnari glares at him.

“You’re an idiot to think it doesn’t go deeper than that. You also saw them off every single time during the summer.”

“That’s what friends do. Besides, their parents should have-”

“Uh-huh. Go on, keep lying to yourself like that. Do I have to hit you over the head with a brick in order for you to realize your own feelings? You’re sounding like a broken record here.”

“I-”

“There’s no use in denying or lying to us, Alhaitham. We’re your friends, after all. But the one who’s going to have to decide what to do next is you.”

He gets up and gives Alhaitham a pat on the shoulder. Before leaving, he looks at him one last time.

“It’s going to hurt even more when you lose them for good. You’ll only wish you could have done something sooner. But I think you already know that by now, right, Alhaitham?”

“Do you know where (Name) is?”

It’s a rare occasion today- Alhaitham actually showed up for class. But it wasn’t to listen to whatever the professor had to say- no, it was to ask your classmates where you went. He’s been trying every day to find you, but only to no avail.

He’s gained some valuable information, however. Your roommate moved out a while ago, leaving you the sole occupant of your dorm room. He also managed to find your dorm room number after asking some of your “friends”, who after relentless prying, reluctantly opened up.

“I can’t say for sure, but I heard they’re in the hospital. They somehow ended up there over the weekend.”

“The hospital?” he repeats. “Do you know why?”

“No idea. Sorry.”

He shows up at the Birmarstan after the class ends, fully expecting to see you. He gives the nurse his name and a few minutes later, she returns with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, but the patient is not accepting visitors at this time.”

A slight pause. Barely perceptible.

“I see.”

You look at the window to see Alhaitham’s retreating form. The nurse enters your room a few minutes later and crosses her arms.

“He’s the first person who’s asked to visit you ever since you came in. I’m surprised- I thought you’d get more. Most people usually do.”

You pull the covers over your head and roll over. Such is the way of life in the Akademiya. Friendships were formed out of convenience as a way to climb up the ladder later in life. As soon as you were no longer useful or fell from grace like you did, others were quick to abandon you without a second thought.

So why did Alhaitham visit then? To you, your relationship (as enemies? Friends? Or even…) was built solely on how you could assist each other, and nothing more. By your prior logic, there is no logical reason why he should visit you.

Unless…

“Is there any reason why you didn’t want to see him in particular?”

Even if your hypothesis proved to be true, it doesn’t excuse or undo the hurt he caused.

“He’s the last person I want to see right now.”

A few days after being discharged from Birmarstan, there’s a knock from the door that wakes you up from your sleep. Still disoriented, you look up and roll over, opting to ignore it and go back to sleep.

The knocking continues. You cover your ear with a pillow and squeeze your eyes shut even more.

“I know you’re there, (Name). Several people told me so.”

Shit, it’s the last person you want to see right now. Your mood sours instantly and now you’re fully awake.

“What do you want?” you snap.

“I just want to talk.”

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be going away anytime soon, so you get up, kicking the trash that litters the floor to the side, and carefully cracking open the door. He looks down to see you. You pull the sleeves of your shirt down as he does so.

“Can I come in?”

You look behind at the mess that is your dorm.

“... It’s not exactly clean right now.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

You flick the lights on and hide the worst of the trash underneath your bed. He follows you, his gaze traveling around the room. He notices the side with the unoccupied bed is considerably cleaner (that must have been your roommate’s before they moved out, he reasons) and your desk looks like it hasn’t been used in a while. He takes a seat at it and examines the table. Your Akasha Terminal is lying in the corner and collecting dust. Your textbook is open to a section that was taught a while ago and it looks like you just started taking notes.

(Although, the frustrated scribbles that occupy most of the page have him concerned. Additionally, certain parts of the paper are wrinkled, as if they have dried after getting wet. The shape and spot where they are concentrated in is another cause for concern as well. Were you… crying?)

You pull the covers over your form and glare at him.

“Well? What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry.”

You pause, then shake your head.

“That alone won’t be enough.”

“I know. And that’s why-”

He gulps, his voice shaking toward the end. It’s just a simple apology, so why is he so nervous?

(But deep down he knows the real answer: this is his last chance to ask you for forgiveness before losing you for good. And it was the thought of losing you, the one that had managed to worm their way into his heart and appreciate him that scared him the most.)

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said those things back then. I should have been more understanding of your struggles and, like you said, had some more empathy. I realize that I am far from an ideal friend in many people’s eyes and if you feel the same, I will not hold that against you.”

His chest tightens and he subconsciously looks away.

“I’m aware of how people see me- valuing logic above all with a mind fueled by equations and facts over feelings. A genius with no regard or need for others. But I’m still human. I feel regret and remorse the same way as anyone else. I know when I’ve messed up and when I need to apologize. Now is one of those times, more than ever.”

You turn around and open the blinds, letting the light flood the room before sitting back down, watching him carefully.

“I don’t want to forgive you. Do you have any idea how long your words lingered for?”

The words sting Alhaitham. Your voice shakes and you feel the familiar burning sensation in your eyes.

“But I know you. I know your bluntness and sharp tongue. You often say hurtful things but don’t mean them. You’re stubborn and slow when it comes to apologizing, even if the guilt eats away at you. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve and you’re not one to dish out praises, leading others to believe that you’re cold and unsympathetic.”

You suddenly lean in, staring into the eyes that had kept you awake at night for so long. His eyes widen slightly and you smile faintly to yourself.

“But I like to think that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. You show that you care with your actions, not your words, but that takes time- time that most people aren’t willing to give because of their first impression of you. You take the time to learn about the people you care about and prefer acts of service to words of affirmation and physical touch as your love language. You show that you care in a way of your own.

“So yes. I forgive you.”

Alhaitham finds himself sighing with relief. Yet a question still lingers in the back of his mind.

“Why?”

And there it is again, for the first time in a long time. Your smile. It’s a little stiff and awkward, as if you haven’t smiled in a long time, but it’s undoubtedly yours.

“The same reason. I missed you too.”

And now begins the uncomfortable process of recovery.

“How long were you gone for?”

“... Longer than I’d like to admit. Catching up is going to be a difficult task, isn’t it?”

“I won’t sugarcoat it; you’ve missed a lot.” Alhaitham flips through your books and notes from prior years. “However, you have a strong foundation from your earlier years. That should help you. But first, let me ask you a few questions so I can outline a study plan for you.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement.

“You’re taking this quite seriously, aren’t you?”

“Naturally,” he replies. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Knowing you, you’re not the kind of person to go out of your way for others,” you grumble. “So going to such lengths just for me…”

“You discredit me if you think that I would do that. But why do you think you felt burnt-out in the first place?”

You look out the window and think for a bit.

“... I think it’s because of my own pride. Had I asked for help earlier on, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be in this position, or things would be better, at least,” you admit.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

You sigh and hold your hands out in defeat. “You surely know more than you’re letting on. But I think it’s also because I never learned how to study.”

Alhaitham pauses at that. “Really?”

There’s no mockery or derision in his question- just curiosity.

“People goaded me on as a gifted child and I was expected to somehow know how to do everything perfectly the first time, you know? It’s just how things were.”

“Well, that’s something we can fix for sure.”

Your first few days back are the worst. Whispers and stares follow you wherever you go and your professors, who once showered you with praises, look at you strangely or even ignore you.

“Don’t mind them,” he says when he notices you sulking in the library later that day. “You and I both know that’s just the way the Akademiya is. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

Much to the envy of your classmates, he also personally tutors you in all your classes. He accompanies you to all your classes (even the ones he isn’t taking) and sits in on them, whispering and writing little notes of clarification and elaboration.

Bit by bit, you see your scores slowly improve. Alhaitham teaches you an array of study techniques, many of which have been personally vetted by him.

“Try each of them out,” he says. “Different techniques work for different people. There is something out there that works for you.”

He’s able to bear witness to the fruits of your labor one day when he hears your excited footsteps running toward him.

“Haitham, look!”

You practically shove several papers into his face. “I got a perfect score on the latest exam! And guess what? I tied with you, meaning that I also placed first!”

A rare smile, solely reserved for your eyes, creeps onto his face.

“Good job. Your score is well-deserved after all the hard work you’ve been putting in.”

He sees it now. Slowly but surely, you’re regaining bits and pieces of your old self. You’ll never be exactly who you once were, but that’s ok. You’ll pick the broken yet salvageable parts up and put them together to create something new yet still distinctly you.

He only looks forward to seeing what you’ll become in the future.

You’ve finally graduated.

It’s a joyous occasion today, filled with speeches, hugs, and promises to keep in touch. Families and friends crowd outside the Akademiya to congratulate their loved ones. The diploma in your hands and the cords around your shoulders are a sign of your achievements and your persistence despite all the roadblocks you faced along the way.

Your heart feels simultaneously burdened and relieved. You had graduated squarely in the middle of the class. You knew it was something to be proud of, yet that part of your former self that you could never suppress couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Not that it really bothered you anyway. When you walked across the stage to the smattering of applause accompanying your name, you had immediately locked eyes with Alhaitham in the crowd. He was clapping, but what caught your attention the most was the smile he sent your way. It wasn’t one of his once in a blue moon microscopic ones.

No. It was one where you could see a sliver of his teeth and where the edges of his eyes crinkled from it, the sight of which sent your heart ablaze. There was pride in his gaze and in that moment, you felt as if everything had been worth it- even if it wasn’t the outcome you expected.

And when he walked across the stage, you were the one to clap for him the loudest.

You push your way through the heavy crowds, searching for one person in particular. He’s not anywhere in the crowd, so you head down the walkway and there you see him. He’s waiting for you with a large bouquet of flowers in his arms.

“Took you long enough,” he remarks. Alhaitham holds out the flowers to you and you accept them gratefully.

“Oh, you remembered my favorite flowers!” you exclaim as you examine the bouquet. “I have something for you as well.”

You hand him an envelope and he eyes it curiously when a voice interrupts you.

“(Name).”

You hear an awkward cough behind you and you turn to see your parents. They stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with their hastily-purchased bouquet of flowers that pales in comparison to what Alhaitham got you.

(You don’t even like the kind of flowers your parents got for you and you’ve told them that before…)

“Congratulations on gradu-”

“Oh, you must be Alhaitham!”

Your mother’s sudden remark takes all of you by surprise. She rushes forward and eagerly shakes his hand.

“I’ve heard so much about you! You just graduated and you’ve already made a name for yourself in Sumeru as a genius! How incredible is that? Ah, if only my child here could learn from you, but they’ve already graduated, so it’s a little too late for that now…”

You bite your lip and look away. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham. He retracts his hand.

“It was nice to meet you. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“We’ll?”

Alhaitham ignores them in favor of holding your hand and leading you away.

“I think a celebration is in order. The owner of the stall that sells your favorite Padisarah Pudding is offering us free dessert today.”

The heaviness that was hanging over you just a moment ago is now gone.

“Free desserts? I’m in!”

“Then it’s settled.”

Later that night, Alhaitham remembers the letter you gave him earlier and pulls it out. He glances at the clock. There’s still time before he has to leave and meet up with you.

Dear Alhaitham,

Thank you for being by my side throughout these four years when no one else was. I owe my entire academic career to you. Perhaps even my entire life. I don’t know if I’d be writing this letter if it weren’t for you.

When I saw you on the first day, I wondered what you were doing here. You were short, scrawny, and shy back then. I thought you were one of those child prodigies. Who knew you’d turn out to be the buff man skilled with the sword that I know today…

Honestly, I didn’t think that you would help me. You were the envy of our class, unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised and I wouldn’t blame you if all that praise got to your head. I guess I didn’t know you well enough back then, though, because you defied all of my expectations. Not only did you not care for status or fame, you also took time out of your own day (which I know you hate doing) for me.

You really are an enigma, Haitham. You’re a person with several layers and hidden secrets like an intricately-designed mechanism. But I think that’s one of the reasons that drew me to you. Everyone has their own secrets and burdens. By slowly learning more about each other, you learn more about yourself.

You and I, we are inseparable now. Earlier today, I had someone come up to me and ask where you were. They were surprised that you weren’t next to me like always. At first glance, we seem more different than similar, especially with our contrasting personalities. But take a closer look and they’ll see that we share more in common than in differences. Opposites attract, but similarities bind.

Like those dusty old philosophers and figures that we had to learn about in class, we are parallels of each other. You are simultaneously my biggest critic and supporter. My biggest rival and confidant. My biggest headache and source of comfort.

But most importantly, you are my biggest friend.

Remember that one night where I asked you what you wished for? You had said that you wanted to keep talking to me regardless of how things turned out in the future. I didn’t really have a response at the time, but now I finally do.

My wish is selfish. I wish for you to stay the way you are. A little arrogant, blunt, curious, and caring in your own way. Because I can’t imagine a future without you in it now.

With all my love,

(Name)

The house is too quiet for Alhaitham’s liking. He appreciates silence when working and Kaveh’s incessant noise from working on projects at midnight is downright irritating, but there is a time and place for everything.

Now is not that time. Thamina is sleeping on the cushion next to him. Kaveh is out in a meeting with a client (for once) and you’re-

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil, there you are. Thamina’s eyes open and she jumps off the cushion to greet you with a loud meow and a head rub against your legs. Alhaitham takes his headphones off and sets his book down before getting up to greet you after a long journey back from Mondstadt. You’re tired, your uniform is wrinkled, and your Kamera has been hastily shoved back into its case, but Alhaitham has never been more grateful to see you.

“Missed me?”

“You’ve been gone for too long,” he grumbles before pulling you into a tight hug and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Love, it was only for a month!”

“My point still stands.”

You scrunch your face up and eventually manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated. Alhaitham has dutifully taken on the responsibilities of the Akademiya’s Scribe while you now work as a reporter for a newspaper company. You love the job because it puts your Haravatat degree to good use and you get paid to travel, although you don’t like the part of being away from Alhaitham for extended periods of time.

“Are you still up for dinner and dessert even though it’s getting late?”

“At my favorite place?”

“Our favorite place,” he corrects.

“Oh, you like it now as well? Did some of my tastes rub off onto you?”

“The pudding runs I went on for you did that a long time ago.”

Comets are ephemeral in nature. Some of them are only seen once and then gone, lost in time and never to be seen again. But occasionally, in a twist of fate, they can be rediscovered although it may take hundreds or even thousands of years for them to return.

That comet he had wished upon several years ago had finally returned to him.

#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #victoria.writes

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misswynters · 6 months ago

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Tempestuous Alliance

Gwayne Hightower x Baratheon! fem!reader

[a/n: i had to make a short drabble and cheesy for gwayne cuz there is a lack of. enjoy!

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The storm raged outside Storm’s End, but within the castle walls, warmth and laughter echoed. You stood by the window, watching the waves crash against the cliffs. You had always loved the ferocity of the sea, finding it a kindred spirit to your own tempestuous nature. Yet tonight, your thoughts were not on the storm, but on the man who had arrived unexpectedly at your family’s stronghold.

Ser Gwayne Hightower, heir to the Reach, had come to Storm’s End on a diplomatic mission, or so he claimed. You suspected there was more to his visit than the pretense of strengthening alliances. The Hightowers were known for their strategic minds, and you wondered what plans were brewing behind Gwayne’s courteous facade.

You turned away from the window as the door to your chambers creaked open. Gwayne stood in the doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. His silver hair, a mark of his noble lineage, caught the firelight, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

“Lady ___,” he greeted, his voice smooth and calm, a stark contrast to the storm outside.

“Ser Gwayne,” you replied, inclining your head. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “I wished to speak with you privately. There are matters of importance we must discuss.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Important matters? In the middle of the night?”

Gwayne smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Sometimes, the most pressing issues cannot wait for the light of day.”

You motioned for him to sit by the fire, taking a seat yourself opposite him. “Very well, Ser Gwayne. Speak your mind.”

He settled into the chair, his expression growing serious. “House Hightower and House Baratheon have long been allies, but we live in uncertain times. The realm is fractured, and we must secure our positions. I believe a stronger bond between our houses would benefit us both.”

You studied him, your keen mind considering his words. “And how do you propose we strengthen this bond?”

Gwayne leaned forward, his gaze intense. “A marriage, my lady. Between you and me.”

You were taken aback by his directness. “You propose an alliance through marriage?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “You are known for your strength and wisdom, qualities I greatly admire. Together, we could unite our houses and ensure our families’ futures.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but found none. Gwayne Hightower was a man of honor, and his offer was genuine. Yet, the thought of marrying for political gain rather than love troubled you.

“You speak of duty and alliance,” you said slowly. “But what of love, Ser Gwayne? Can a marriage founded on strategy truly thrive?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “I do not offer you a loveless union, my lady. I believe that in time, we could come to care deeply for one another. Respect and admiration are strong foundations upon which love can grow.”

His touch was warm, and you found yourself drawn to his sincerity. “You have given this much thought,” you remarked.

“I have,” he admitted. “For I see in you a partner worthy of standing by my side, not just in name, but in spirit.”

Your heart softened at his words. You had always been wary of suitors seeking your hand for your family’s power and influence, but Gwayne was different. He sought a true partnership, one built on mutual respect and shared goals.

“Very well,” you said at last. “I will consider your proposal, Ser Gwayne. But know this: I will not be swayed by mere words. You must prove your intentions through your actions.”

Gwayne smiled, a look of relief washing over his face. “I would expect nothing less from you, my lady.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop. Despite the storm outside, a sense of calm settled between you.

“I will prove myself to you,” Gwayne vowed. “And together, we will weather any storm that comes our way.”

You felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this alliance could be more than just a strategic move. Perhaps, in Gwayne Hightower, you had found a partner who could match your strength and spirit.

As the night wore on, you spoke of your dreams and ambitions, discovering a shared vision for the future. By the time the storm subsided, a new bond had begun to form, one that would shape the fate of your houses for years to come.

And so, amidst the lingering echoes of the storm, a promise was made. Not just a promise of alliance, but of a partnership forged in the fires of mutual respect and growing affection.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood

#house of the dragon #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd season 2 #hotd x reader #house baratheon #house targaryen #hotd smut #hotd greens #gwayne x you #ser gwayne

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hqbaby · 6 months ago

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twenty-seven — didn’t mean it

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

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word count. 2.1k content. profanity, lots of tension, copious amounts of angst, mild violence

“What did Satoru mean?” Maki asks. She’s trudging through the snow beside Sukuna while everyone else marches ahead to get ready to leave.

He turns to her with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

This is the first time Maki has spoken to him all morning. She said nothing while he stumbled on through the snow like a complete idiot, suppressed her giggles unlike the rest of the group, and kept an awfully respectful distance from the guy who isn’t quite sure can still call himself your boyfriend. So Sukuna certainly wasn’t expecting her to come at him like this.

“He said you cheated on her,” she tells him, reminding him of the abundant accusations bandied about last night. “It’s probably not true, but he must’ve had a reason to believe something like that. He’s never been the type to flat-out lie.”

She watches as he stays silent, averting his eyes. She grimaces. “Did you really cheat on her?” she asks. “For fuck’s sake, Sukuna. I thought she was your best friend, why on earth—”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he protests, head shooting up as he somehow tries to defend his honor. “It wasn’t—I didn’t—It didn’t mean anything. And we barely did anything. And it was before we actually got together.”

Maki stares at him, unbelieving. When she warned you about Sukuna in the past, this was precisely the kind of thing she had in mind. He’s the type of guy who would cheat on you, the type who would make your life a living hell by stringing you along like you meant nothing to him. He’s the type of guy who would exploit your kindness and your love and care very little about the consequences of his actions.

But she’s seen the way he acts around you, the care and consideration, the unadulterated love this complete buffoon has for you. And she can’t bring herself to believe that she was ever right in her assumptions.

She sighs. “Did you tell her that?”

“No,” he tells her, shaking his head. “She doesn’t wanna talk.”

“I don’t blame her,” Maki admits. “Last night was… a wreck. It was all my fault.”

Sukuna furrows his brows at that. He stops walking, waiting for Maki to stop too and look back at him. He places a hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says. “She knows it wasn’t. She’d never blame you.”

For once, Maki finds herself agreeing with the guy (who would’ve thought?) because she knows you. She knows you’d never blame her, let alone hold a grudge. You’d rather sit there, melting under the enormous pressure of every mistake ever made, every misunderstanding ever had, and crumble beneath it all.

She wonders how dreadfully lonely that must feel.

“You should tell her,” she says to the boy. “She won’t blame you either.”

Sukuna nods, resolved in his decision to talk to you, even if he knows there’s a chance that you’ll have nothing to say to him at all.

Of course Sukuna’s plans get derailed when everyone gets back to the house and he finds you and Satoru in a serious discussion on the living room floor. The two of you are wide-eyed when everyone comes ambling in, like you’ve been caught in the middle of something private and wrong.

Satoru stands up almost immediately and walks over to Kimi who gives him a look that sits somewhere between disappointment and resignation. He whispers something in her ear and wraps an arm around her shoulder, but Kimi distracts herself by talking to Utahime and thoroughly ignoring her boyfriend.

There’s something really weird going on there, Sukuna thinks, but he can’t quite point out what it is.

But never mind that. He looks at you, still crouched on the floor, no longer looking as listless as you did when he left you earlier. You’re bundled up in a sweater he doesn’t recognize and you’re regarding him with a look he’s not familiar with either.

You look as if you’re about to say something to him, your mouth just about to open when the door to the living room swings open, Mahito sauntering in with a huge grin. He has a bag slung over his shoulder and there’s a person trailing after him. A girl.

“Look who’s here!” he says with a flourish.

Utahime squeals, jumping up and rushing to the girl behind Mahito. “Emiko!” she says, hugging the girl. “You’re here!”

Emiko is all smiles as she hugs the club president, waving at the other members who approach to greet her. “I didn’t wanna miss out on the fun,” she says, groaning as Aoi pulls her in for a side hug. “Did you already ski without me?”

“We didn’t know you were coming,” Kento tells her with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t look all angry though, his expression more akin to a father expressing disappointment towards his child. “We didn’t factor you into the plans.”

She just sighs and slumps back into Utahime’s embrace. “Oh, well, I forgive you, Kento.”

“You forgive me? Emiko, get back here—”

But it’s too late. Emiko’s already walking towards you—you stood up as soon as Mahito announced the girl’s presence—without even noticing Sukuna standing at the side. “Has he been bitching this whole trip?” she asks, looping her arm with yours as she looks at Kento pointedly. “Because I’ll kick his ass if he has.”

You crack a smile. An actual smile, Sukuna thinks. That’s something at least.

“He wouldn’t be Kento if he didn’t bitch a little,” you tell her, leaning in as if to divulge a secret that everyone else in the room can hear.

Emiko laughs, pressing herself closer to you. It’s only then that she lets her eyes travel across the room. She notes the people she doesn't know. Satoru, Kimi, Naoya, everyone she’ll have to introduce herself to later. She sees Sukuna last.

Her face twists into one of disgust, like she’s just seen a truckload of shit and the truckload of shit happens to be Sukuna. “You,” is all she says.

You follow her line of sight, completely oblivious to the string of curses Emiko is probably chanting in her head. “Have you met my boyfriend?” you ask, curiosity piqued by the girl’s reaction.

Now, if Sukuna wasn’t so busy trying to figure out who the fuck this girl is, he would’ve been over the moon at you calling him your “boyfriend.” It would’ve calmed his nerves a little, seen the glimmer of hope left in what he had deemed the vestiges of your relationship. But he misses it, too caught up in the big questions, Who is she? And why is she looking at me like I killed her family?

Emiko turns to you with an expression that Sukuna can only describe as restraint. “Your boyfriend?” she asks, eyes darting back at him then back at you. “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say almost hesitantly, which makes Sukuna want to gouge his eyes out.

“Oh,” Emiko says. “That’s… nice.”

She says a few things to you before pulling you in for a hug and drifting away to join the rest of the group.

Sukuna keeps his eyes on her back, still trying to place her in the recesses of his mind. A touch of your finger on his shoulder shifts his focus back to you. He turns to you, wide-eyed waiting for you to speak with bated breath.

You just nod towards the door to the dining room and start walking away. Sukuna follows.

When the two of you are out of the room, away from everyone else’s prying eyes and pricked ears, you look at Sukuna with caution.

“You said you wanted to talk,” you say slowly. “So… let’s talk.”

After a whole morning of mulling over his words, trying to figure out what to say to you, how to say it, the best order in which he ought to do it, Sukuna finds himself at a complete loss of words. There’s simultaneously too much and not enough for him to tell you. What is he supposed to say?

So, instead of whatever it is he’s supposed to be saying, he finds himself asking, “What were you and Satoru talking about?”

Your eyes widen and you purse your lips. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with us.”

“It kinda does,” he tells you. “Did something change? Between us?”

“No,” you say, and he doesn’t believe you. So, you reach into the pocket of the sweater you’re wearing and pull something out. You hold it out for him to take. “Satoru gave it to me.”

Sukuna looks at the box in your hands and he doesn’t even need to touch it to know what it is.

“Why?”

You shrug, placing the box back in your pocket when you realize that, no, Sukuna does not want to touch the engagement ring your ex boyfriend just gave you and wouldn’t take back. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Sukuna says slowly.

He can’t quite place what he’s feeling. He’s confused, definitely, by the whole ordeal. He’s still a little shocked by the fact that you’ve actually come to talk to him and he’s actually agreed. But he knows that’s not what he’s feeling.

And then it hits him.

He’s angry.

Huh. How weird.

“So because he’s a fucked up jerk who drove you away because he’ll stick his dick in anyone, he thinks he can just come back and ask you to fucking marry him?” he asks, venom in each word that falls from his mouth.

You furrow your brows, now recognizing the clear anger on your best friend’s face. “Sukuna, it’s not like that—”

“He knows that you’re with me now, doesn’t he?” he asks, his voice louder than it would’ve have been if he wasn’t so fucking pissed off. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. He doesn’t count right now. This is about you and me. Not him!”

You place a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, please.”

“No,” he says, shrugging your hand away. He barely registers the way your face falls when he rejects your touch. “I thought you loved you. I didn’t believe it before, I could tell there was something holding you back, but I trusted you anyway. Do you even love me?”

“You can’t just ask me—”

“Do you love me?” He’s yelling now. He really wishes that he wasn’t. “Or am I just some plaything you’ve used to bide your time until that asshole decides to come to his senses?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you!” you tell him, reaching to touch him again when he turns back at the door to the living room. “Please, can we just talk—”

He doesn’t mean to do it.

He really doesn’t.

His hand slaps your arm away before he realizes what he’s doing.

He looks at his hand, and he immediately wants to cut the thing off. The two of you stand there in stunned silence before Kento bursts through the door with concern on his face.

“Is everything okay here?” he asks slowly, surveying the situation before him.

You’re a few paces behind Sukuna, rubbing your reddening arm. You still look like you’re in complete shock, but Kento can tell that there are tears forming behind your eyes. He looks at Sukuna who’s looking down at his hand, and his suspicions are confirmed.

Kento’s at your side as the door opens and a few people check to see what’s going on.

“Did he hurt you?” Kento asks you softly, both his hands on your shoulders as he crouches down so that he can look up at your downturned head. “Hey, it’s just me. Are you okay?”

You feel truly stupid right now. It’s not like it hurts all that much anyway, and you’re well-aware that Sukuna didn’t do it on purpose. He didn’t mean to. If anything, he just wanted to keep your hand away from him, he wouldn’t purposely hit you.

But you feel like crying nonetheless. The whole barrage of emotions you’ve been carrying since last night, for most of your life, comes crashing down on you, as if Sukuna has tipped the iceberg and left you in its wake.

You’re vaguely aware of the chaos that ensues around you. There’s a fight, some choice words are thrown around, a few swings, a few misses. You can only assume that it’s Sukuna and one of the other boys.

Kento places an arm around you and leads you away, sits you down on a chair somewhere, continues to ask if you’re okay even if he never gets an answer. In the end, you find his eyes, your lips are wobbling before you even realize that they are. You place your head on his shoulder and you do the only thing you can do.

You cry.

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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darknight3904 · 1 year ago

Text

Between the Comfort and the Chaos

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴋᴀᴛɴɪꜱꜱ (ʏᴀʏ) ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɴᴏᴡ'ꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ "ᴏʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇɴᴛ!" ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴛʜᴀᴛꜱ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ / ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ @squidscottjeans ,ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢꜱ ʙʏ ʟɪᴢᴢɪᴇ ᴍᴄᴀʟᴘɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ʙʏ ɢʀᴀᴄɪᴇ ᴀʙʀᴀᴍꜱ.

Italics designate that it is a dream.

The sun is warm on his skin as his eyes meet yours. Musical laughter fills his ears and soft hair tickles his nose.

"What are you laughing at now?" He asked, his voice deep with sleep.

"Your hair is ridiculous, Coryo." You tease pointing at his head

"And who did that hmm? I seem to remember you pushing your fingers through it a thousand times last night." He replies shifting around in the soft white sheets so he's sitting upright.

"You lie! I'd never." You laugh, sitting up beside him, clothed in a soft-looking nightgown he picked out for you.

"Sure you would, you're a menace." He says, wrapping his arms around you and caging you to his chest

"How rude to say to the only person who puts up with that terrible attitude of yours!" You say trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

His muscles flex slightly and his fingers begin to tickle you.

"Coryo!" You laugh, wiggling around in his lap "Coriolanus Snow! I'm going to pee!"

He relents and lets you go at the threat of urine. Wetting the bed is unattractive.

Coriolanus wakes with his heart feeling full. A smile fights for a spot on his face amongst the wrinkles that have formed over the years.

"Now there's something you don't normally see on a dead man's face, a smile."

His smile falls and his gaze snaps to the voice. He groans and straightens up in the uncomfortable chair he dozed off in

"I'm Commander Paylor. From District 8. I wanted to see you before the Mockingjay executes you tomorrow."

Coriolanus isn't entirely sure what to say to the woman in front of him.

"You wanted to meet the monster up close?" He asks, pulling a pure white rose from its spot next to a fountain.

"Yes." She confirms.

Her voice is unshaken as he steps towards her and holds his hand with the rose out.

"Give the Girl on Fire this for me. As a gift." He requests

The woman, rebel, Paylor, slowly takes it from him, undoubtedly suspicious. He smiles when she does, a sign of good faith, but it must scare her because he can tell she's not charmed.

Unsurprisingly, his good looks had vanished years ago.

"What makes you think she'll want this?" She asks shoving the rose back at him.

"You're right, maybe she she wouldn't want it. Although perhaps she'll find me herself, then I can give it to her directly."

Paylor doesn't say another word to him and instead takes her leave. He watches her mumble something to the guards before walking. Most likely demanding that they watch him closely. Like he had somewhere he could run off to, the moment the Capitol's children were killed by bombs, he had lost any bits of support he had left.

He isn't surprised when she appears in his greenhouse. She looks laughably out of place amongst the dazzling white and green, clad in black as she admires one of his roses.

"That's a nice one."

His voice must frighten her because she spins around quickly. How easy it is to startle a bird outside of its cage. It reminds him that Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay, the symbol of the rebellion that will kill him tomorrow is nothing more than a scared little girl.

"Nothing says perfection like white." He says, wiping at his mouth, " I was hoping you'd find your way here. There's so many things we should discuss."

Katniss walks towards him as he sits down on a bench, old knees prevent him from standing the way he wanted to. She's silent but he catches her eyes and how they watch the blood on his handkerchief.

Katniss is quiet, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I was 18 when I killed my first person. It was a boy, in the arena. I was there to rescue my friend who was stupid enough to enter the arena to administer burial rights to a District 2 boy he believed was important."

"I don't care," Katniss says getting ready to walk away, clearly uninterested in his life.

"You don't want to know the thoughts of an old man? After all, I'll be dead this time tomorrow. Then my story won't matter. I'll be nothing but pages on a history book one day. You'll be the only one to know how my mind worked back then."

His words get her to stay. Perhaps she is curious about him. Or maybe she doesn't have anything else to do, now that the Districts have taken the Capitol. How terrible it must be to lose your purpose so early on in life.

"I saved him, Sejanus Plinth, that fool. I saved him only to sign his death warrant later. Plotting to escape Panem and killing the mayor of District 12's daughter. You see, Miss Everdeen, taking life without purpose is wasteful. The mayor's daughter never did anything to Sejanus."

"You say don't take life without waste but what about your Fiancee? The one who killed herself. There have been whispers about it for as long as I can remember. I've never bought that she died on her own accord."

"Patience, Miss Everdeen." He smiles, surprised that the rumor about you still has life, he could have sworn he had covered that up perfectly.

"Have you ever heard the name Lucy Gray Baird?" He asked, genuinely curious if that foolish Covey of hers had passed her name down the way her songs had swirled around the rebellion.

"No," Katniss says

"She was a victor of the Hunger Games, just like you. The first victor of District 12 to be precise." Coriolanus watches Katniss' face as she listens, "There's nothing left of her though. She is but a whisper in the wind, I saw to that myself. I must not have done it thoroughly though, after all, you know her songs. The Hanging Tree, and that sweet song you sang that little girl who died in your arms in your first games."

Coriolanus smiles as Katniss' face knits into a mask of displeasure and anger.

"Stop it." She demands, no begs.

"Calm yourself, Miss Everdeen, I'll be finished shortly."

He watches her fists clench, suffocating the stem of the rose she picked between her fingers.

"You asked about my fiance. You're right about your theory, she didn't kill herself the way the gossips spread their lies across this country say. I rid myself of her one day, it was an accident you see. She attacked me first...I regret it though. I regret it most when I'm alone."

Coriolanus sighs, suddenly overcome with sadness as he thinks of you, Lucy Gray, and even Sejanus.

Katniss is quiet for a moment. Her fingers turn the rose over in her fingers, examining it for nonexistent imperfections.

"You deserve it. You deserve every bit of pain her death causes you. You deserve to know the pain you've caused countless families by sending their children into the games. What you've caused me and my family by killing Prim."

He can hear the emotion dripping in her voice when her sister's name leaves her lips. In a way that sister is responsible for where he is now, a prisoner in his own greenhouse.

"Yes, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your sister. I was about to release an official surrender when they released the parachutes." He says, truthfully.

"You released those parachutes," Katniss says, her tone cold.

"You think I gave the order? We both know I'm not above killing children, but I'm not wasteful. I take life for specific reasons. I always have. There was no reason for me to destroy a pen of Capitol children."

He coughs, wiping at his mouth, wishing his sores would stop aching.

"It was a masterful move on Coin's part. It turned the last of my guards against me." He smiles "There was no resistance left in the mansion. Did you know it aired live?"

He watches as Katniss takes in his words, her face remains stoic but he can tell she understands him. Understands that Prim is dead because of the woman who is to take his place as leader of Panem.

"I'm sure she wasn't gunning for your sister...but these things happen in war."

"I don't believe you," Katniss says, determined to convince herself more than him.

"Oh my dear Miss Everdeen, I thought we had agreed never to lie to each other."

Sleep is something that has usually evaded Coriolanus Snow. Whether it be his old bones aching, the sores in his mouth, or just a busy mind, he hasn't had a peaceful night in many years.

Tonight is different though. Perhaps it was his conversation with Katniss, or maybe the fact that he would die tomorrow. Tonight Coriolanus Snow falls into a deep slumber, avoiding what his future holds.

Coriolanus!

Coryo!

He can't believe eyes. Here you are, healthy and whole in front of him. Not a winkle or smile line, pollutes your face.

You are as beautiful as the day you left him.

"Y-You're here...with me." He stammers, cursing himself for his blunder.

"Where else would I be, silly?" You smile "This is my room after all."

He glances around and sure enough, you're right. Your sunroom is here, he's in it. Coriolanus sits across from you on the plush baby blue furniture you hand-picked. It's color is as vibrant as ever, not faded like the last time he saw it. Your overflowing desk is to his on his right, burdened with books, drawings, and wildflowers of every color.

"You look lost, Coryo." You observe, taking a sip from the tea cup in front of you.

He takes in your appearance. A pretty sundress sits on your figure. Its yellow flowers make you look as delicate as the teacup in front of him. Your hair is done immaculately and a soft touch of makeup enhances your already stunning features.

"I'm sorry." He suddenly blurts out

"For what?" You ask

" I'm sorry for looking like this." He apologizes, suddenly self-conscious that he's an old man.

"Looking like what?" Your musical voice fills his ears.

Suddenly a mirror is there, in his lap. He looks down and is met with a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Sure, his reflection stares back at him as it always is. But, this time he is met with how he looked the day he killed you. His youth is back, curly hair a mess on his head, out of the confines of the gel he used to slick it back. It is styled just the way you like it.

"Are you sorry for anything else?" You ask sweetly

Coriolanus thinks for a split second that you're testing him. But what reason would you have?

"For everything that happened between us. I regret it all." He admits

Silence feels like a weight on his chest as he waits for you to speak.

"Do you regret what you did to me then? How we ended?" You ask

He can't look at you as he disgests your words.

"Yes." He says, his voice barely a whisper.

"Look at me, Coriolanus."

His gaze remains down, has he always been wearing blue socks?

"Look at me, Coriolanus!"

"Look at me!"

His eyes open to meet the bright light of a flashlight being shown into his eyes.

"He's still alive." A gruff voice says, switching the light off.

"Unfortunately." Another snickers " Here I thought we might get to tell Coin he died of old age."

"Stay alive, snake. We want a good show tomorrow when Katniss shoots you." The first one says tossing him backward onto the small cot that has been placed in his greenhouse for him.

"You're a monster, Coriolanus."

Your voice. It's you!

He turns around and there you are, a gray scarf has been added to your outfit. It's out of place and clashes with your pretty yellow dress. He wants to tell you to get rid of it.

"I'm not." He denies

"You are. Look what you did to Sejanus, to Lucy Gray, to me, to every child who ever stepped foot in an arena. There were never any victors, not really, only you." You hiss

"It is the order of things." He tries to defend his actions, hearing you spout this incorrect information is angering him. Every life he has ever ended has served a greater purpose.

"Snow lands on top, isn't that how it goes?"

Your words send a shiver down his spine.

"I wish I could have changed what happened to you." He says

"No, you don't. You wanted to do it. You wanted to hurt me." You spit

"No, I didn't you're wrong. I never meant for any of that to happen!" He panics, wishing your harsh tone would stop. He haunches over elbows resting on his knees, hands over his ears like a child.

"Yes, you did." You say

He looks up at you now. The ugly scarf is gone but Coriolanus wishes for its return. Deep purple bruises mar your once-perfect skin. From his position, he can see the chinks of the chain that had pressed into your skin.

"You can't even accept what you did to me. You're disgusting, Coryo."

And just like that you're gone. A figment of his imagination comes to life and vanishes just like that.

His chest heaves as he wipes his bloody lips on his deep red robe. His heart rate slows and he wishes someone would bring him a warm cup of tea to soothe his burning throat. Perhaps those guards might indulge him.

A low whistle reaches his ears as he fiddles with the string that sticks out of his pillowcase.

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary.

It's why I

Need you-

You're as pure as the driven snow.

Lucy Gray Baird's sweet voice fills his ears for the first time in decades.

"Hello, Coriolanus." She greets him, stepping out from behind a display of roses.

"What do you want?" He snaps

"Well now, there's no need to be rude." She scolds

"Say your piece I'm tired." He says, uninterested in playing her games

"Ah, did she tire you out? She's feisty. I understand why you went back to the Capitol for her." Lucy Gray says

"No, you don't. You barely even met her." He says

"Now thats where you're wrong. She and I know each other well. After all, we're connected through you." Lucy Gray taunts

"You're not real!" He exclaims. "You're gone! Nothing but a whisper of songbird chatter left behind in the woods of District 12!"

His outburst doesn't faze Lucy Gray Baird who smiles at him.

" I can see you're not interested in talking to me the way you did her."

"You're right, I'm not," Coriolanus confirms, wishing Lucy Gray would disappear again.

"Very well, then. I'll leave you to it, then."

The rest of the night is sleepless for Coriolanus. He lays on his back and tries to shake the whispers that flood his mind. Your voice dances with Lucy Gray's tonight, taunting him, driving him mad. Lucy Gray's singing swirls through him like a thick fog over city lights and clouds his mind. At some point, you join in and Coriolanus can't even fathom how you've learned the words of a ghost's songs.

The sun has arisen by the time your voices finally go quiet. He suspects the guards that stand outside his greenhouse doors will come to lead him to his execution any moment now.

"Did you ever stop and think that what you were doing was wrong?"

Sejanus Plinth. He should have known his mind would save the most annoying for last.

"I've never viewed my actions as wrong. Maybe I didn't mean them all but they all served a purpose." Coriolanus affirms, not bothering to look at Sejanus who is apparently behind him.

Sejanus lets out an amused laugh and Coriolanus feels his blood boil. What does a dead boy have to laugh at? He is the one who got to live a long life, not Sejanus Plinth.

"You meant every wrong you've ever committed, Coryo. You're a monster that's going to burn in the deepest pits of hell."

He finally turns, ready to rip Sejanus apart for his words and the use of his personal nickname, a name reserved for you only. He is ready to send Sejanus back to whatever corner of his mind he resided in but is met with nothing but roses.

He runs a hand over his face. Coriolanus Snow has never felt more weary than he does now. He wishes to bury his head beneath his blankets and let the world melt away.

He never gets a chance though because as he relaxes back into his mattress, the greenhouse doors open, signaling his time here has come to a close.

"Get up." a voice orders "It's time."

Coriolanus can see Katniss Everdeen growing closer with every beat of the drums that play. The bow in her hand is as pitch black as the costume she wears. A soft breeze threads its way through the tense scene as he awaits his doom. He's not so worried about it now, his mind has dragged him through the dirt so much within the past twelve hours that he wants an out. He never wants the ability to listen to Sejanus' garbage or Lucy Gray's sweet voice, Coriolanus doesn't even want to have another conversation with you in your sunroom.

No that's not it. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe he does want some of those things back. Maybe not Sejanus or Lucy Gray but he does yearn for you. He wants you to wrap your arms around him and tell him it's alright. He wants to sit down with you and exist with you in between the comfort and the chaos of this world. He wants you to stay by his side and say that you didn't mean to say that you disgust him.

Maybe none of it was real. No none of it was. You had left him that night in the basement. Your eyes had glazed over and you had stopped fighting him and the chain that brought about your doom.

He can feel hysteria creeping into his mind as Katniss Everdeen stops walking. Behind her, the victors that escaped him stand tall. He catches the gaze of Peeta Mellark, the boy he had kept in your room after he used tracker jacker venom on him.

Three birds fly over him, they flap their wings in perfect harmony. Their black feathers are a stark contrast to the light blue sky that he stares up at now. Coin's words fall on deaf ears as he ignores her whole speech.

"Mockingjay...may your aim be as true as your heart is pure."

Coriolanus watches Katniss Everdeen release her arrow. He expects something, perhaps a dazzling white light or maybe even pitch darkness but it never comes. Instead horrified gasps fill his ears and the thud of a body.

Coriolanus doesn't have to even try to turn around to see what has happened. He knows what the Mockingjay has done to what was Panem's future.

Time slows down as the mob behind her rushes forward. The birds have flown away, off to start a different life, away from darkness and all things bad.

His laughter rings in his ears as his eyes comb the crowd. He can't see much but the red rouge of an academy uniform catches his eyes, accompanied by a flash of rainbow. Sejanus, Lucy Gray. What were they doing here? They couldn't possibly be in the crowd that was running towards him.

They're growing closer, the mob that will end his life. He looks at them, ready to let go. They collide with him, their fists are brutal but justified and he can feel his end rapidly approaching.

"Coryo."

And there it is, at last. Your sweet voice is calling him home.

Thank you for reading this little bonus story. If you enjoyed it please comment, like, or reblog! I love getting feedback. Follow me for more content or check out my master list.

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wosoragebaiter69 · 1 year ago

Text

that’s enough

barça femeni x teen!reader, alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this is a mess. the plot is like when ur writing an english essay and you let your subconscious mind write it so it ends up splitting into three topics with no context.

TW: throwing up, coarse language

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

Last night, I went out again. It isn’t unusual for me and if I get caught it gets me in trouble with Alexia. I’m not even doing anything bad most of the time, just driving around to take the pressure away. What I don’t factor in this time is the fact that we have an early morning session and a late night session. So if hell was a day, this is it.

First, we have a video session discussing tactics. Which is at 7am, then at 6pm we have a field session. Of course when I wasn’t there when Alexia woke up she immediately called me.

“Where are you? Where’s your car and why aren’t you in the house?” She questions clearly annoyed.

“Relax Alexia, I went out on a little drive, I’ll be there for the video session don’t worry.” She’s about to say more but I hang up. I know I won’t hear the end of this but there can’t be too much harm.

Turns out there can be.

I walk inside the room with my mcdonald’s coffee, I’m not the last person there but Alexia is in the room and shoots daggers at me. I shrug my shoulders, moving to sit next to Ingrid.

“Alexia is really mad, what did you do this time?” She asks, looking at me with a slight smirk.

“I went for a drive to clear my mind. I guess it’s illegal to do that now. I got a coffee though.” She wrinkles her face in disgust.

“Out of all the places to get coffee, you choose the worst one? Honestly kid, please find some place better. Staring at that makes me physically sick.” I roll my eyes.

“I was in a hurry and they call it fast food for a reason. Imagine if I was late? I’m already in trouble.” She nods her head in understanding.

“So, any plans for today or are you going to play Hogwarts Legacy all day.”

“I’m going to watch a movie.” I reply.

“The whole day?” She questions confused.

“Well… I never said I was seeing the movie IN Spain.” She sighs pinching the bridge between her nose.

“That’s not a good idea. Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate subtitles and I don’t want the movie to be in Spanish.” I shrug.

“That’s… a good point. If Alexia finds out you’ve left the country again she’s gonna lose it so have fun and make sure not to tell her you told me.” I nod.

“Will do my friend.” I’ve left the country before, one time to Germany where I accidentally met Georgia Stanway and got drunk with her. And the other time was at the UK in which I got into some nasty fights against some sad Arsenal fans. Like yes I was taunting them but no reason to attack me. I won in the end, obviously.

So if Alexia finds out I’ve left again she will be so mad. I focus my attention to the screen in front of us and listen in on what whatever Jona has to say.

- - - - -

After the session, I quickly make my way out of the room and into my car. I’m almost gone but Alexia is right behind me and she bangs on the window. I groan pulling it down.

“Hi Aleeee.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Ale.’ me. Where have you been and how long? Do not lie to me.” I sigh.

“I went out on a drive around town, it’s so pretty at night, so excuse me if I want to look at it. Now if you must know. I’m on a tight schedule so, may you please move so I can move?” I ask, she reluctantly agrees and steps back allowing me to drive off to the airport.

(this is rlly fast paced but you can imagine whatever movie you want during the time skip)

- - - - -

It’s currently 5pm, I’ve been out all day the flights were only 2 hours and they were cheap. I don’t know why the others think of this stuff. Maybe I’m just Australian though.

I notice my stomach feels off, but it’s probably because I’m dehydrated and haven’t eaten a proper meal all day. Only a large popcorn and 2 packets of skittles.

I arrive at the grounds just in time and walk in with Sandra. I walk over to my area and get changed into the kit, before walking out onto the field with Lucy.

“You alright mate? You’re pale.” She states.

“I’m good, little tired is all.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but we walk on.

The session is gruelling, high intensity and does not do anything to help what I’m feeling. Alexia has been pushing me harder than anyone else which is annoying and I low-key want to fall to the ground. That would only result in more laps though.

The 1.5 hour session ends, we have dinner which lasts half an hour than another 45 minutes in the gym. Both of which I am not excited for.

I can’t even think of anything when it happens, I feel bile rise up my throat and I just know that I should’ve eaten a proper meal. I make it into the bathroom in the nick of time, spilling my guts into the bowl. Someone is in here holding my tied back hair but I can’t be bothered to find who.

When I finally stop gagging, I flush the toilet and lean against the wall staring in front of me to find Keira.

“You feel any better or do you want to stay here.” She asks, resting her hand on my cheek. I shrug my shoulders as she sighs.

The door opens again and it’s Lucy.

“Oh, there you guys are. What happened?” Lucy turns to Keira.

“I was walking by the bathrooms and heard someone gagging and here she was throwing up.” She nods her head and I go to stand up.

“NO! No, you are not doing that. What if you throw up again? I’m going to get Alexia. Right now.” Lucy says sternly.

“Nooo, get Ingrid instead? Please Lucy.”

“Fine.” She walks out leaving Keira and I alone again.

“Mind telling me what lead to this moment?” I nod, explaining the staying up all night to not eating any proper food.

“That’ll do it. Can’t believe you just got on a flight to London.”

“It’s not even that long, it’s a great way to spend time. It’s like you saying a 45 minute drive is long. That’s how long it takes for me to get to school when I’m in Australia.” She shakes her head.

“Aussies sense of time is so out of whack I’m telling ya!” The door is opened again as Ingrid and Lucy make their way inside.

Ingrid sighs, “What are we going to do with you huh?” I laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you to the medics and then you can go home. I’ll drive your car and before you say anything we will be telling Alexia.” I nod, knowing there’s no escape.

We get to the medical room and Alexia is already there, talking about her knee with one of the physios. She looks over in question, Ingrid pushes me forward while Keira explains everything to the doctor. Who explains for me to eat a proper meal and drink some actual water. Before going to bed to get actual sleep.

Alexia is fuming, muttering many curse words and dragging me out of there. We get our stuff and give my keys to Mapi who nods at the plan of getting my car back home.

- - - - -

We walk through the door and Alexia guides me to the couch.

“I have had enough of this. We need to set some rules ok? You are 16 in a foreign country, you can’t go around to other countries when you fucking feel like it. I don’t care if you didn’t do anything bad but I can’t have you out of this city without me. Got it? As for the night driving, we’ll set a curfew and I expect you to be back by a certain time and you won’t be able to leave until a certain time. I told your parents I’d watch out for you but you are seriously making it hard for me to live up to that.”

“Sorry Ale.” She shakes her head.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m going to make you a proper meal, you will drink 1 litre of water then you are heading straight to bed. No phone, no xbox, nothing until I deem you can be trusted. Am I clear?” I nod, feeling like I was 12 again.

“You might think this is excessive but I care about you. I want you to be safe, I need you to be safe. So please, make it easier for both of us.” Shes pleading now and it makes me feel bad, tears brim at the edge of my eyes and she sits down next to me.

“Amorcita, don’t cry. Por favor.” She rubs my thigh.

“I’m sorry Ale, I didn’t mean to. The night drives just lessen my anxiety about some things, you know. Like therapy.”

“I know, but you can speak to me about it any time if you feel you’re spiraling. Anyone on the team. Don’t do stupid things to get us to notice. Just talk I’m always here.” I sob into her arms, I can feel all the anger she has fade.

“Thanks, this means so much. Again I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t be, but I would like to know why you travelled to England to watch a movie, don’t you hate England?” This has me laughing.

“I mean… I do but in Spain it’s either gonna be in Spanish or have subtitles and I wanted it in English without.” She laughs softly.

“Of course, now how do you feel about Chicken Burgers for dinner? With potato gems.” I nod my head. She gets up and walks into the Kitchen starting to make the food.

Maybe I can start trying, and maybe I am truly cared about more than I thought. This team 🫶.

A/N: I LOVE SICKFICS I HAD TO. if you see any sickfic requested, i probs requested it lol

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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shaunamilfman · 3 months ago

Text

the ghost you dressed up as [5]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x R summary: "You've decided that, maybe, murder isn't as bad as you thought it was. Especially if your girlfriends say please." note: discussion of violence masterlist

“... and that's when Shauna stabbed her in the shoulder and sent her down a flight of stairs,“ Jackie says excitedly, trailing her fingers absently up your arm as she regales you in the story of Casey's murder. She's so excited to tell you the story that you try not to cringe hearing the brutal death of your friend. You keep having to remind yourself that this is your girlfriend and not some true crime documentary.

“We never saw Jackie coming; she always had a nice thing to say about everyone,” They’d say.

There's an almost childlike eagerness on her face as she sets the scene, eyes bright and animated, like she can't wait to share every gruesome detail with you. “She screamed the first few steps, but then she got sort of quiet. I mean, the thudding was pretty loud, but I think she hit her head or something.” Jackie frowns at the memory, looking put out. How dare Casey pass out and spoil her fun. “God, and when Shauna started going down the stairs after her? She started clawing at the tiles to pull herself away. It was kind of sad, really, but you know…”

Jackie looks over her shoulder at Shauna affectionately. “You should've seen how Shauna just stood there watching. She didn't even flinch, all calm and stuff, as she did her little head tilt. You know the one?”

Jackie mimics the movement sloppily, an almost awkward exaggeration of Shauna's terrifying glare. She smiles widely at you as she lets it fall, like she's waiting for you to laugh. You nod slowly, forcing a smile to your face.

“Yeah, I know the one,” You agree.

It's not that the conversation is completely unexpected. Dating them has come with a host of morbid conversations–offers of murder seem to be how they show affection–but this was about someone who used to be your friend. It wasn't some abstract victim you barely liked like Allie or someone who you hated like Steven. Listening to Jackie talk about her last moments of utter agony made you feel sick.

It hadn’t bothered you listening to how Allie or Steven died, or even Tatum. Jackie had described that one at length, going into every gorey detail like you hadn’t been there to see it yourself. You think you must know every word of that mocking phone call she’d had with Tatum before Tatum had finally dropped the phone in her fear. The shrill ring of the phone, the way her voice started so confident and turned broken and begging by the end, the way she’d cried at Jackie’s giggling taunts, how she broke down into sobs and begged for her life. You hadn’t minded listening, not really. It was sweet in a way, even if it sounds fucked up to admit, but there was always some sort of affection underlying everything they do.

The worst part is how unaware of it she seems, like it's just another cool adventure her and Shauna had without you. She'd even assured you a few days ago that they wouldn't leave you out of it the next time they “went out.” Like it was a date.

Shauna seems vaguely amused about the whole thing, peering over Jackie at you as she lays behind her. She’s been half-watching you and half-listening to Jackie all night. Drifting in between her clear desire to go to sleep and Jackie’s desire for her to stay up and talk with her. Instead, just settling on listening in with her eyes barely open. Something has finally caught her attention, though, as she pokes at your hip with the arm she's got wrapped around Jackie, looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You ask suddenly, squirming under their combined stare.

“I asked if you were okay. You're not like mad or anything, right?” Jackie asks, frowning slightly. Her enthusiasm begins to dim at your lack of reaction, leaning forward to search your face for any sort of clue as to how you’re feeling. Even now she doesn’t seem to believe you’ll actually answer in the affirmative, looking at you with a quiet expectation that you'll reassure her–tell her, of course not. There's a genuine curiosity to the question, but you know what's underlying it.

You can handle it, handle us, can't you?

“It's just a lot to process,” You lie, trying to make your voice sound steadier than you feel. “I had no idea that you were doing all this for me.”

Jackie's positively beaming at your words, eating that lie right up. She rests herself head against your shoulder, nuzzling her face into the side of your neck as she peppers your skin in brief kisses. Either unaware or uncaring of how tense you'd been previously, but still managing to turn you into mush as you relax back into the sheets. It’s hard to stay upset for long when she’s so damn affectionate all the time, erasing all of your worries before you even realize you have them. Some part of her, however deep, must be aware. But when it comes down to it, how much do you really care?

Shauna looks unconvinced, like she can see at least somewhat through you, but she just absentmindedly rubs circles on Jackie's skin with her thumb. She’s more than content to let Jackie live in her delusional, wholeheartedly supporting most of it, but she won’t ever let you forget that she sees more than you want her to. There’s always something so horribly knowing about her. Always watching, always waiting. Her eyes linger where Jackie presses up against you, a glint of approval in her eyes. She’s pleased with what she’s seeing–the way Jackie clings to you, the way you allow it.

Jackie’s still oblivious, lips grazing your skin like she’s marking you as hers. You, in the brief moments you’d allowed your mind to drift there before you forced yourself to stop, had always imagined Shauna as the more possessive of the two. It was true, to some extent. She was certainly more outwardly possessive, more likely to start a fight with someone just for standing a little too close to you, as she’d done so many times with Jackie. It was like she was always on edge, just waiting for an excuse to unleash all that rage she had inside her. But Jackie was a different breed altogether.

Her need for your attention was constant, suffocating even at times. If she wasn’t in your direct line of sight, she would endeavor to be there as quickly as she could manage, as if you’d forget about her in the twenty minutes you were taking a shower. Her eyes scanned for you constantly, like a nervous animal looking for predators. As if she wasn’t the thing that goes bump in the night. She wasn’t as outwardly aggressive, but she was no less intense for it. The hunger that was always present, how she always needed more from you–your time, your affection, your focus–was almost more dangerous.

“So you’ll come then, next time? Like you promised?” Jackie prompts lowly, her lips brushing against your skin with every word. Her fingers still trail lazy patterns up and down your arm, making it difficult to focus on anything that isn't her. Even as you turn your head to look, you find two pairs of eyes looking back at you: Jackie's hopeful eyes and Shauna's expectant gaze.

“It wouldn't be the same without you,” Shauna adds, her expression neutral as she gauges your reaction. She may try to look uninterested, try to put on some air of indifference, but you know her too well to know that she's not ever capable of that. Beneath that forced calm she's watching intensely, desperate for some sort of reaction.

You remember the way Shauna had looked at you covered in Tatums blood, smug and exhilarated but still so clearly nervous of your reaction. She expected you to react positively because she needed you to. It was as if she believed she could just will your approval into existence as long as she acted like she already had it.

Shauna always got so blank in those moments, shutting herself down like she could stop your reaction from hurting her if she just pretended she didn't care. But Shauna always cared, to a fault even. She was so sensitive, so easily hurt, when you got down to it. Always so ready to read in too far over a simple twitch of your face. If you frown, if you hesitate too long, it's like she's already decided for you how you feel about it.

Jackie was the opposite: while Shauna withdrew, Jackie only clung even tighter. It has made your life complete and utter hell any time you've witnessed them get into a serious disagreement, watching as Shauna retreated to lick at her wounds while Jackie hopelessly chased after her. Every step she took only drove Shauna–who was intent on drowning herself in her anger–further away. Jackie never knew when to let go, and the more she pushed, the more Shauna pulled away. Like the world's most irritating game of tug-of-war.

You can’t remember ever making that promise, not even hinting at it. Yet you find yourself agreeing anyway, nodding your head before you even realize what you're doing. How could you not? They made it so hard to disagree, so hard to deny them anything. You've accepted so much about them, been made complicit in their murder. At this point, you might as well just bite the bullet at join.

“I'll be there,” You promise weakly. It feels inevitable, like there was never another choice for you to make. Really, haven't you been set on this path from the moment they sat across from you in the cafeteria? Before that, even, if you count the time they'd spent planning to make you theirs from afar. They've made you this way, haven't they?

Someone who would say yes without thinking. Someone unable to leave even if you wanted to.

Jackie squeals excitedly, her hands clasping yours and squeezing hard as she presses more losses against your shoulder. Shauna doesn't react right away, but you can't see the way her shoulders carefully start to relax. A pleased upturn of her lips as she snuggles further into Jackie.

Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, as they always do, but you don't feel left out anymore. You're a part of it now, even if it took you a while to realize. No longer tiptoeing around their bond like you've spent so much of your time doing.

Not a spectator, but an integral part of it.

…

You’re the last one out of the classroom, which is probably the only reason it happened to begin with. Deep in thought about the murder you were now expected to join in with, you hadn’t noticed that the bell had rung to dismiss you from class. Your classmates certainly had, a fact you’re made aware of as the door slams behind the last straggler as he slips out the door. It startles you out of your thoughts, a quick glance around the room telling you what you’ve noticed embarrassingly late.

You stuff your things back into your bag, cursing under your breath and not even bothering to slip your papers into folders–Jackie will probably do it herself whenever she so helpfully goes through your bag for you. It definitely has nothing to do with her wanting to go through your stuff. How generous of her, really. You can already imagine the look she’ll give you: that half-fond and half-exasperated look she gives whenever she thinks you're being careless.

No, you’d much rather catch up with your girlfriends after class before Jackie calls the national guard.

The sound of your teacher calling out your name forces you to come to a stop with your hand hovering over the handle. You can just barely catch Shauna’s eyes as she leans against a locker across the hall, looking curiously back at you. It takes everything in you not to react, the interruption raising hell for your already frayed nerves. You pause, considering what would actually happen if you just opened the door and left anyway, before clenching your jaw and reluctantly turning around.

“Mrs. Loomis,” You acknowledge, trying not to let your irritation show. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you leave. Your hand flexes around the strap of your back, fiddling idly with the end.

Her smile is as strained as you feel, the kind you pull when you should be smiling, but you’re really just uncomfortable and trying not to let the other person know. The pursed lips and the lingering tension around her eyes as she forces a smile does more to project her mood than if she hadn’t bothered to smile at all.

“How are you doing?” She asks, trying to seem kind. Maybe it would’ve been, if not for how cautious it sounded. Careful, even, like she was talking to something about to bite her. You catch the way her eyes flick nervously up and down your figure, darting back to the door just as quickly. She seems just as eager as you are to leave, and it makes you wonder why she had bothered to stop you at all.

How are you doing? Like she has some kind of right to ask that of you? A bitter feeling wells up in your chest, as much as you try to push it down. She, of all people, should know. You haven’t forgotten the way she looked at you when the cops had first shown up to interview you–the way she’d turned you over to them without a shred of hesitation on her part. None of the concern she seems to possess in droves now. Mrs. Loomis hadn’t even had the decency to tell your classmates off for their whispering, pretending not to see whenever you’d given her a desperate look on a particularly brutal day.

All she ever offered you was silence. It wasn’t her problem, was it?

No, you’ve seen that look before. A concern that’s really just poorly veiled suspicion, when they’re too afraid to confront you about whatever they think they know about you. Far too cowardly to come out and ask you directly.

“I’m fine,” You say stiffly, almost cutting her off. It wouldn’t matter what she had to say to you anyway. You were passed the days of wanting her to help you.

“How are those girls you hang out with?” She asks, leaning back against her desk with a move that she clearly thinks looks casual. You can almost see the gears turning in her head as she picks her angle.

“Fine.” Your eyes drift unbidden back to the door, knowing the two of them must still be waiting for you in the hall. The thought fills you with an equal mix of comfort in dread, burdened by the weight of their secret–your secret, soon enough. Mrs. Loomis doesn’t miss the shift in your attention, suddenly standing up straighter as she refocuses.

“It's just…” She trails off, clasping her hands in front of her. It’s like she knows she’s going somewhere she shouldn’t, but she’s too curious–or worried–to stop herself. “How well do you think you know them?”

Your eyes narrow, suspicion flaring hot in your chest. The question lands with all the subtlety of a punch in the face, immediately putting you on edge as you start to size her up. You hadn’t expected this line of questioning in the slightest, and you don’t at all appreciate the insinuation in her voice. How dare she sit here and point fingers at things she doesn’t understand when she’s spent so long turning her back on you.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She doesn’t flinch, which surprises you, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes. Fear or surprise–you’re not sure, but you know you don’t like it. Whatever it is, she quickly tries to mask it with another fake smile, the same tight-lipped smile she gave you as your life fell apart.

“I just wonder if you’ve considered what sort of influence they’ve been having on you. You’ve been different since you started hanging off of them.” You don’t like the way she says that, not one bit. The almost condescending way she says it, hanging off of them, like you were some sort of leach. Like your presence was somehow unwanted. Or maybe she meant it a different way. Maybe she was just insinuating that it was a phase, that you were somehow falling into the wrong crowd.

Each word is chosen carefully, each designed to seem as unthreatening as possible, but the warning is clear in her voice. The insinuation cuts deep, sending a wave of panic through your body even as you try to remain unaffected.

What does she know? Or, rather, what does she think she knows? Half truths and suspicions can be deadly in the wrong hands. You of all people were aware of how deep they could cut if wielded correctly. Mrs. Loomis was playing with fire, but you don’t think she realized.

It takes a concentrated effort to keep the nerves out of your voice as you say, “They’re my friends.” It’s not quite as certain as you’d like it to be, but that could work in your favor if only you could play it correctly. Trying to dance around accusations wasn’t your strong suit, not by far. She doesn’t buy it, you can tell.

Maybe it’s because it’s not entirely true, not anymore. Mrs. Loomis has picked up on something in your voice, but you doubt that it’s the truth. She hears your hesitation on the word friends and draws the wrong conclusion from it. She thinks that you have reasons to doubt their affection, that you could doubt their loyalty over something as simple as her words. It isn’t doubt that makes you falter–it’s the memory of hands on your skin, of kisses, and so much more shared in the dark.

Jackie and Shauna–they’re so much more than your friends. They’ve pulled you into their mess, into their darkness, and you’ve let them. You’ve had so many times to dig your feet in, even if it wouldn’t have ultimately made a difference, but again and again you’ve let yourself be moved with the current. Maybe you’ve always wanted it. Needed it, even.

“Sometimes people we think are friends aren’t looking out for our best interests,” Mrs. Loomis says slowly, a pitying smile crossing her face. It makes you feel so small and insignificant. “You’ll learn that when you’re older.”

Falling in with the wrong crowd, then. What had she noticed? A small part of you wants to scream, to ask her why now. Why not when you needed someone, anyone, to believe you? It’s too late now–for you and for her.

You knew Shauna would want to do something about her, that this insult couldn’t go unanswered. Especially when she was already on the prowl for someone else. It was so pathetic that she had even dared to try, meddling in what she would never understand. Whatever she thinks she knows–whatever scraps of truth she’s managed to put together from idle gossip she upholds as truth–couldn’t be close to the reality of it.

“It’s awful, what’s been happening to you. I believe you’re innocent, but those girls are no good. You should see the way they look at you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think...” There’s a finality to her words, like she’s already decided the ending and has written it for you. Even now she doesn’t even bother to offer you help, offering a few half-hearted words of wisdom and expecting you to do all the work of fixing it. She’s judging you again. That’s all this is in the end.

Your hands clench tightly into fists by your side, almost shaking with the effort not to start yelling. You can feel your fingernails digging into your skin hard enough that you start to worry you’ll draw blood. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing, you think bitterly. Letting her know that she could ever get to you. You hate this: the way she talks to you like you’re some child.

More than anything, you hate how small it makes you feel. Weak. Helpless. And maybe that’s why you keep wondering what Shauna would do about it. What Jackie would want to do, what she would help you do. You run through the scenarios in your mind, each one more gory than the last. The thoughts of bloodshed are the only things that manage to calm you, finally allowing you to give Mrs. Loomis a stiff nod.

Wouldn’t it just be so easy to handle it their way for once? Your way, ignoring it and hoping things changed, hadn’t been all that effective lately. You’ve taken the high road for months on end and have nothing left to show for it.

Jackie greets you the second you step out of the door, hands pressing against your shoulders in a way that would have you anxiously glancing around the hall if you didn’t already know it was empty. She pulls you forward by the straps of your bag, pressing a kiss against your cheek in full view of that tiny door window. You wonder if Mrs. Loomis saw, but decided that she must’ve. You’d easily seen Shauna from where you were standing, and you knew your teacher was probably going out of her way to look. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not this time.

Even Shauna notices that fact.

“Forget to do your homework?” Shauna asks, lips pursed tight. She, of course, already knew that wasn’t true. It was obvious she didn’t have the skill of subtlety that Jackie so often used to dance around the question, but you appreciated the bluntness of it all. She doesn’t say it in so many words, but you feel it in your bones nonetheless. What did she want with you?

“It seems you’re quite the topic of discussion lately,” you say dryly.

Shauna hums. “Is that right?”

It’s easier this way, to get ahead of it.

Jackie doesn’t pull away, her thumbs rubbing thoughtful circles against your shoulders as her grip tightens around the strap of your bag. “What did she say?”

“Asked me how well I knew you. Insinuated that she thought I was falling into the wrong crowd. That I was just hanging off you.” You don’t bother to hide the bitterness in your voice. Why should you? Not when they would understand, when they would spark your ire into a burning fire. You want them to.

Shauna goes absolutely rigid, her mind racing as she looks between the two of you. “She doesn’t know anything.” It’s both a statement and a question, like she isn’t quite sure herself.

“No,” you agree. “But she thinks she does.”

“She’ll be watching,” Jackie adds thoughtfully. The word lingers long after it leaves her lips, heavy with implication.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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honeypiehotchner · 7 days ago

Text

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eight

More lore! Work and life have kept me busy busy busy but trust I am still here for this fic and will be finishing it! (Also if you can't tell I started writing this fic after I first watched the Seaver episodes and thought I can write this so much better and with so much more angst)

Warnings: Rossi being Rossi, Hotch doing something he really shouldn't be doing but he thinks it's justified and maybe it is so who's to say if he's in the wrong!

You first knew something was different about your dad when you were ten.

There were the usual, obvious things that confused you as a kid. Like when he’d go away for long stretches of time, only to return like nothing had happened and act like he was never gone at all. Or when he’d return with these extravagant gifts, as if that made up for the birthday party he missed, or the big recital. Or when you heard your parents arguing, your mom tearfully asking if there was someone else, and screaming “I don’t believe you!” when your dad insisted there was no one.

There are the less obvious things that confuse you now, things you look back on when you want to analyze his behavior. Why he traveled so far to find his victims, why he tried to live a double life, why he did any of it at all. You dip your hands into the memories day after day and each time you come up empty handed. Why did he let you get kidnapped, only to help them find you? Was he ever behind your kidnapping at all? You don’t know. You’ll never know.

Even if you could ask him, you don’t know that you would. Your mom picked you up, changed your name, and moved you away for a reason. She gave you a fresh start. She’s the reason you are where you are, and you’re not going to throw that away.

You had no idea Rossi worked on your father’s case all those years ago. You knew the BAU had gotten involved briefly at one point, but not who.

What are the odds and what kind of bad luck streak do you have to have to be working with one of the investigators who helped catch your father?

The ceiling offers you no answers. You left the precinct as quickly as you could, wanting to take a hot shower and crawl in bed and pretend to be asleep when Hotch or Rossi inevitably knocks on your door later.

Rossi knows. He must. Why else would he look at you like that? And if he does, how long has he known? Has he told Hotch? Would he tell Hotch, or would he keep it quiet? Does he know that part of your file is sealed? Does he know you discussed it with Strauss, keeping that part of your life sealed because it isn’t relevant, not after all the work you did to create a separate life?

You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep asking this many questions, but how are you supposed to stop?

You’ve worked too hard to create a life completely separate from your father to let it all unravel like this. You knew it was risky going into this line of work, let alone the BAU, but with a name change and two decades worth of distance, you thought it was deep enough in the past. You thought you had buried it far enough below the surface.

You cannot afford to have it haunt you like this, to interfere with your work so badly that you flee. You have to figure this out. And you have to get yourself under control.

+++

Hotch and Rossi are, like most nights, the last two at the precinct, trying to squeeze out some final leads before calling it a night. They don’t get far, and it’s Rossi who caves, saying they should get some rest for once. Hotch is quicker than usual to agree.

“What was that about earlier? About The Strangler?” Hotch asks. “Since you worked it, do you think we have a copycat on our hands?”

It’s a poor excuse for a subject change, and Rossi is onto him in a second.

He shakes his head. “No, we don’t.”

Hotch grabs his cup and heads for the door. “And…Y/N? She seemed shaken up.”

Rossi raises an eyebrow, changing the subject slightly. “You two seemed to be getting along today.”

Hotch lets out a laugh as they exit the precinct. “We’ll be back to our usual selves tomorrow, probably, don’t worry.”

“I hope not,” Rossi says, rounding the car to hop in the passenger side. “You’re the only people who like to hear you two bickering, you know.”

Hotch rolls his eyes, sticking the keys in the ignition. “I don’t like arguing with her. She just insists on it.”

“And you push her buttons.”

“I don’t try to.”

Rossi only smiles to himself, always happy to rile Hotch up in whatever way he can, especially when it comes to you. It’s too easy to do it.

Rossi is able to convince Hotch to head back to the hotel, but not to grab a drink at the bar.

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed,” Hotch says, pausing outside the elevator. “You should too.”

“I will,” Rossi smirks, though he turns toward the bar anyway, nodding to Hotch as he presses the up arrow for the elevator.

Rounding the corner, Rossi finds a familiar face perched on a bar stool, nursing a glass of red wine.

He watches you briefly, gauging whether you’d like to be left alone. He can’t tell. He decides to slide onto the stool next to you, waving the bartender down to order two fingers of whiskey.

You won’t look at him. You won’t look anywhere other than your wine, but you knew Rossi and Hotch had come back. You could hear Hotch’s voice from the lobby, your body tense as you prepared for them both to make their way here and see you not at all asleep like you said you’d be.

You meant to sleep. But your mind was wide awake, and before you knew it, you were dragging yourself downstairs for a glass of wine, hoping the alcohol would tire you out.

And now, apparently, the price you’ll pay is a conversation with Rossi.

Seeing as he’s here alone, you figure there’s no sense in hiding behind cryptic sentences and silence. Better to rip the band-aid off now, while no one else is around.

“How long have you known?” you ask, studying the stem of your glass instead of looking him in the eye.

The bartender sets Rossi’s whiskey down in front of him. Rossi nods to him, and hands a black card over. “Another glass of red for her, please. On me.”

You swirl the remaining swallow of wine in your glass before downing it. The bartender replaces it with a silent smile before leaving you both alone.

Rossi takes a sip of his whiskey, studying the array of liqueurs along the wall across from him. “Do you remember meeting me?”

It’s not an answer to your question and it confuses you. “Yeah? You told me ‘good luck’ with Hotch because I was late.”

“No,” Rossi shakes his head with a fond smile, turning his head to look at you. “You were young.”

You wrack your brain, trying to remember when you might’ve met him. You come up empty, but you’re not surprised that you don’t remember. Your memories are hazy at best from those times, but the few you do remember are vivid. Just none of them include David Rossi.

“It was brief,” Rossi says, taking your silence for the answer it is. “After we had found you, and we needed to talk to your mom about some of what your dad admitted to while we had him in custody while we searched for you.”

That day comes back to you in fits and starts, flashes here and there. A much younger David Rossi floats into your mind, but with no words to accompany him, except—

“Didn’t you offer me a cup of coffee?”

He laughs quietly. “I did. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

“It worked,” you say, remembering with a smile. You pause. “So you’ve known the whole time?”

He shakes his head. “I thought I recognized you the first day, but I ignored it. It wasn’t until tonight that it clicked all together. You are twenty years older, you know.”

“Hey,” you feign hurt, punching him lightly in the arm. “You too, old man.”

“Don’t remind me,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Have you told Hotch?”

You practically snort into your wine glass. “God, no.” You pause to take a long sip, needing it to steel your nerves. “Only Strauss knows, because she saw my background check before I asked to have some of it sealed. My father and original name were part of what I decided to have redacted.” You take a deep breath. “My mom moved us away and changed our last names for a reason. A fresh start. A new life without being haunted by what my father did.”

Rossi nods slowly. “Well you’ve got everyone suspicious after how you acted earlier.”

You grimace. “I know.” Not your finest moment.

“Why not get it over with and tell everyone?” Rossi asks. “Or at least Hotch?”

You roll your eyes. “He’ll look at me differently.”

“Will he?” Rossi argues gently. “How do you know?”

You give Rossi a look. “Because I know him.”

Rossi hums. He doesn’t need to say anything to prompt you to continue.

“He already hates that I’m here — as if working with him is any better — and I’m sure he’s looking for any reason he can to tell Strauss to get rid of me,” you scoff. “The last thing I need is him saying I’m unfit for the job just because I’m a little shaken up at a random mention of the man who nearly killed me and my mother.”

Rossi goes still beside you, turning his head slowly.

You sigh, finishing off your second glass of wine. “You’re telling me none of you suspected he had tried anything with my mom and me?”

Rossi shakes his head. “We were never told otherwise, and your mom—”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “She loved him.”

Rossi frowns at your dismissal, resting his hand on the bar, but not touching you. “No one will fault you if you need time.”

“I’ve had two decades of time, Rossi,” you cry, placing your forehead in your hand. “I thought that was long enough.”

This time, he does reach for you, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. He’s never seen you this broken up, not even when you were thirteen, after they found you, when they all expected you to be upset. You were put together back then, your brain having not had any time to process it all. Now, you’ve had the time to process, you’ve lived your life in between, and it still haunts you. Because it always will. Because these things don’t just go away, no matter how badly you want them to.

“It’ll always be hard,” Rossi says. “I’m sorry I can’t say it goes away.”

You snort, burying your face further into your hand. “I wish it would. He’s dead, I wish he’d stop following me around.”

“You couldn’t have chosen a different career?” Rossi teases, shaking your shoulder a bit before letting go.

It does make you laugh, because he’s right. “I know. What was I thinking?” Your mother tried talking you out of it, but you never listened. She eventually came around to the idea after she heard you talk about how much you loved helping people, but it always worried her somewhat.

“I have no idea,” Rossi says, smiling around his whiskey as he finishes it off. “I’m having another, would you like one?”

You shake your head, sitting up. “No, no…I should actually go to bed now, I think, but thank you. For the wine and the uh, conversation.”

“Anytime,” Rossi says, squeezing your shoulder one more time. “Get some rest.”

“You too,” you give him a pointed look, eyeing the new whiskey the bartender sets down.

“I’ll sleep good after this,” he picks up the glass, raising it toward you.

You roll your eyes as you head back toward the elevator, strangely feeling lighter — and not because of the alcohol. You’ll begrudgingly admit, talking it out with Rossi helped.

But that doesn’t mean talking to Hotch about it will have the same effect.

+++

Back in his hotel room, Hotch takes a shower and crawls into bed. He tosses and turns for an hour, staring a hole into his eyelids. He gets up to take a walk around the room, hoping it’ll help. All it does is make him pause when he spots his briefcase, knowing what lies inside.

The files he asked Garcia to pull weren’t unusual. Just your background check, with one condition. To unseal whatever was hidden.

Because he had thought it was odd for you to have parts of it sealed, let alone that Strauss agreed to let you. But it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to argue with Strauss about.

After seeing you stop breathing entirely at the mention of The Strangler — an obscure case, one truly infamous only to Reid and his eidetic memory — Hotch is worried. That’s the only name he can think of to give the feeling swarming in his chest.

He’s worried about one of his agents, and dammit, he feels like that is a justifiable enough reason to do some digging. If it concerns the well-being of one of the agents he oversees, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try to get to the bottom of it. Even if they seem hellbent on keeping it hidden.

That’s all the convincing he needs to do for himself before he walks over and snatches his briefcase off the desk, opening it with a click.

Your file lies right where he left it, along with Penelope’s sticky note. Her gel writing makes him pause.

Should he be reading this?

What’s his alternative, though? Asking you outright? That will only start a fight, or worse, you’ll quit on the spot. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to tell him what’s going on, and if he pushes too far, you’re both liable to say things you can’t take back.

This is better. It’s going behind your back, but it’s better. Is it really betraying your trust if it’s clear you don’t trust him? You don’t even like him, which you have made abundantly clear.

You seemed to open up a little to him today, but that doesn’t mean tomorrow you won’t be right back to the way you were yesterday. There’s no way to know for sure.

So, Hotch stops the back and forth, and pulls the file out, flipping to the second page. Then the third. Then to what was sealed.

The words jump out at him too fast for him to understand them, his heart thundering in his ears as he reads.

Your name — the one he knows you by — is not what you were born with. Well, your first name is, but your middle and surname are changed entirely. Your original surname was Adkins.

Adkins. Like—

His eyes scan further, finding the inevitable on your birth certificate. Your father. Carson Adkins.

You were fourteen when your names changed. Fourteen when you moved to Washington state. Fourteen when your mother changed her surname, too, back to her maiden name — the one you now have. Fourteen when your life started over.

Because when you were thirteen, Carson Adkins, The Strangler, threatened to end it.

#aaron hotchner #The Gambit #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #angst angst angst

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sunsets-and-crows · 2 months ago

Text

I Wanna Be Yours - Chapter 4

Pairing: Sylus X Reader

Words: 5.1K

- - -

Tasked with infiltrating the life of Sylus, the most wanted man in the N109 zone, you're torn between what is right and feels right, blurring the line between duty and desire. As danger escalates, you must decide whether to carry out your mission or succumb to the magnetic pull of the man you're meant to destroy. In this game of power and obsession, betrayal could cost you everything.

Content warnings ⚠️

Dark Themes, Yandere! Reader and Yandere! Sylus! Power play. Violence and Gore. Smut: mutual masturbation. Stalking/surveillance. Reader slowly losing her mind. Sylus being hot and a menace. TRIGGER WARNING: stalking and dubious consent (Reader doesn't know Sylus is also watching her and gets a little handsy with hersef)

If you feel there’s any other warnings I need to add then please reach out and let me know!

The sterile lighting of Captain Jenna’s office cast an unforgiving glow over every surface, from the polished metal of her desk to the file she had in front of her. Your file. The office that had once brought you comfort, now felt cold and oppressive, leaving your nerves on fire. You had been back in the office for only a few hours, just enough time to settle in, before being summoned by your boss. Now, sitting across from her, you could feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on you, like an invisible shackle tightening around your chest.

Jenna’s gaze was sharp and assessing, but there was an unusual glint in her eyes - something unreadable. She would never allow herself to show it, but you knew she held a soft spot for you. Which made you feel even more nervous about the upcoming discussion. Her voice was cool and controlled, as she opened the file and glanced over the last official report before your unexpected week off.

"So," she began, folding her hands on top of the document, "how have things been progressing? Your notes have been detailed and useful but I wanted to get your view on the situation"

You took a steadying breath, careful to keep your expression neutral, but a faint pulse of anxiety beat under your calm exterior. "I've managed to observe some of his business dealings, mostly just meetings in the N109 zone," you replied, keeping your tone casual. "But... so far, everything I've seen has seemed pretty routine. Business transactions, nothing overtly illegal. I have got a good sense of his routine though, and he does seem to be a creature of habit."

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of scepticism flickering across her face. "Routine transactions in the N109 zone? That’s all" she repeated, almost as if testing you. "Sylus’ illegal activities are well known by the association, I doubt he’s been acting completely above board.” She levelled her gaze at you and you felt your stomach drop. “We need more than just routine observations from you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and a pang of guilt twisted through you, but you forced yourself to stay steady, meeting her gaze. "I know. And I’m keeping a close eye, but he’s... careful. Nothing about his movements or meetings have given me any solid evidence, yet. But I’m dedicated to ensuring this mission’s success Captain," The words rolled off your tongue with a practised ease that surprised even you, each one a hint of a betrayal that somehow felt both foreign and familiar.

In truth, the images of Sylus and the blood-stained floors of that dimly lit warehouse were burned into your memory. No amount of justification could scrub them clean, but telling Jenna about that night felt like exposing something raw and vulnerable within yourself. As if reporting it would make your twisted sense of loyalty, of protectiveness, suddenly real and undeniable. You physically couldn’t tell her.

Jenna nodded slowly, but her eyes hadn’t lost that calculating gleam. "How about this recent meeting with Albert Clements?" she asked, as she flicked through the reports, indicating that specific entry. "There’s been reports that he’s interested in joining forces with Sylus. That could be dangerous, of course, an alliance between his father’s company and Onychinus." Her tone was probing, likely due to that entry being short and noticeably lacking detail.

You forced a nonchalant shrug, doing your best to appear unaffected, even as the memory of that night flashed vividly behind your eyes. "I was there to observe, but it seemed more like preliminary talks. Clements wants to make a name for himself, but he hasn’t done much yet to earn Sylus’s trust. I don’t think an alliance is likely Captain. Sylus seemed uninterested in the discussion, almost as if he was distracted by something.”

Captain Jenna tapped her fingers on the file, her gaze sharp and assessing. "Anything else you think I should know? Unusual patterns? Allies he seems particularly close to?"

For a brief moment, you could still feel the ghostly weight of the gun in your hand, hear the muffled shot as you’d acted without hesitation, saving Sylus from betrayal. Allies? Did you count? But instead of confessing, you kept your face impassive, letting none of it show. "Not particularly," you answered, your voice even. "Nothing that stands out."

The silence stretched, her gaze unrelenting as she seemed to study the depths of your expression. A faint tremor rippled through you, but you buried it deep, knowing that any crack, any flicker of doubt, could unravel everything.

Jenna leaned back in her chair and sighed. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face as her gaze bored into you. "Look," she said, her voice softening slightly, almost as if reaching for an understanding. "I know this assignment is intense, and the N109 zone isn’t an easy place to navigate, but you have to give me something. You’ve been a dependable asset to the Association, Y/N. Your record is commendable. That being said, I need to present something to the higher-ups to prove it." There was a moment’s pause as she regarded you with something close to concern.

You nodded, trying to maintain an air of confidence. “I understand Captain, I think it might just be that this mission will take a little longer than expected.” Taking a deep breath, you steeled your expression further, fully committing to the web of lies you were spinning. “Captain, I want to do this right, to make sure I have the best information possible so I’m not willing to rush this. You can tell your superiors that I’m fully committed to doing this to the best of my abilities and to that, I need time. There’s a reason that all the other missions failed before me, maybe the common thread is expecting results too soon. Nothing good will come from rushing in and making mistakes.” The words flowed out of you, the slight edge to them spoke of your resolve. Resolve for what? Well, that remained to be seen.

Captain Jenna nodded, the ghost of a smile crossing her lips. "Okay, now that, I can work with. Just remember, the Association has your back. If anything feels off, or if you need help, I need you to report it. I don’t want you getting too deep in this, it isn’t worth losing yourself over. I know you can do this and do it well."

The words struck something deep inside you, a pang of conflict twisting through you. It was almost laughable how far you'd drifted from the Association’s purpose, how tangled you'd become in your own emotions. But you nodded, forcing a small smile to settle on your lips, playing into the comfortable rapport that you two shared. "Understood, Captain," you replied, voice steady. "I’ll make sure to keep that in mind"

Jenna seemed to scrutinise you for a long moment, her gaze heavy with the weight of her expectations. Despite her doubts, you knew she believed in you, in your integrity, that you could stand firm in the face of whatever Sylus represented. And that faith, unspoken but palpable, twisted your gut with a wave of guilt you barely managed to keep hidden.

Finally, she closed the file, tapping it thoughtfully before looking up at you. "I've been thinking that it might be time we begin to push this mission forward," she said, her tone resolute. "Keeping tabs on his routines and associates is all well and good for establishing a preliminary, but if you’re not able to observe anything more useful soon, I think it’s time to move into the second phase of this operation."

Your throat tightened. "The second phase?" you echoed, already knowing the answer.

Jenna nodded. "Start to gain his trust. Get close to him and make contact with him. Become someone useful, someone he can rely on. It’s time to start creating opportunities to make him believe you’re on his side. We should start refining the identity we set up for you. I’ll have someone start working on it"

The weight of her directive settled heavily on you, every syllable pressing against the tangled mess of emotions you’d been hiding. You forced yourself to nod, even as your mind spun, grappling with the impossibility of what she was asking. The idea of getting closer to Sylus, of creating trust, felt like playing with fire - but it also ignited a treacherous thrill inside you. The idea of meeting him finally, having his crimson eyes focused on you, and his sweet honeyed voice saying your name, made your excitement swell.

Jenna's voice softened, her eyes steady. "Just remember... This mission is about bringing him to justice, not getting caught up in his world. You have to maintain your integrity while getting close to him, okay? Don’t lose who you are.” She warned you. “The Hunter’s association will not pardon any illegal activity during this mission unless it’s absolutely necessary, and there will be an investigation should that happen. From now on your reports need to be more detailed.”

"Understood, Captain," you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You swallowed hard, the conflict simmering beneath the surface as you held her gaze. She had no idea how blurred those lines had already become, how far you’d drifted from the Association’s purpose. And as you turned to leave, Jenna’s words echoed in your mind, a relentless reminder of the path you were supposed to be walking.

As you stepped out of her office, a sense of foreboding settled over you. You knew you were spiralling into a darkness that neither the Association nor Jenna could pull you from.

The meeting with Captain Jenna had allowed you to return to surveillance within only a few days of your return to work. It was nice to do away with the usual week of desk work you'd expected to be on after a period of sickness like that. You’d settled back into the routine easily. Daily reports; endless streams of surveillance footage; and the sterile language of mission updates all felt hollow like a pale imitation of the vibrant, chaotic world Sylus inhabited. You’d taken Captain Jenna’s advice, making your reports much more detailed. The fear of being removed from the mission was enough to spark you into overdrive, prompting you to add little embellishments here and there to the official documentation. Well maybe that wasn’t quite true. You’d begun to flat out lie in order to ensure that your reports were satisfactory by the Association’s standards.

There was only one bright spot that pierced through the dull haze: him. Seeing Sylus, even from a distance, was like inhaling fresh air after being trapped in a suffocating room. His presence was magnetic and ensured that the monotony of your days was well worth the effort you took to remain on this mission.

The seasons had begun to shift back in Linkon. The crisp mornings and early sunsets reminded you of how fragile the boundary between day and night had become as summer’s oppressive heat gave way to autumn’s cooler days and crisp air. The change was almost imperceptible in the N109 zone however, where the sun rarely shone and the air always seemed thick with tension. The city was dangerous enough in the light, but under the cover of darkness, it transformed into something feral and untamed.

It was one such night that finally tipped you over the edge.

You had been trailing Sylus all day, tracking his movements with the kind of precision that had become second nature to you now. He’d had a quiet day - no business meetings in his usual haunts, no deals or auctions attended, just the occasional basic errand that seemed beneath a man of his stature. When you finally overheard a mention of him heading to one of his clubs for an “appointment,” your pulse quickened. At last, a change in scenery.

The club he mentioned, Opal Veil, was one of only a few in his business portfolio that you hadn’t visited yet but you knew enough about its general dealings to know that a field trip there would be no walk in the park. Its reputation preceded it - Opal Veil was an exclusive haven for the N109 zone’s elite, where power and wealth mingled under the dim glow of neon lights. The kind of place where alliances were forged over expensive drinks and betrayals were whispered between beats of the music. This wasn’t just a club. It was a domain, his domain.

As you approached the club that evening, it loomed before you like a jewel in the dark. The neon signage bathed the street in a soft, otherworldly glow, the bold letters of standing out against the grimy backdrop of the city. It seemed entirely out of place in the barren alleyway. The low thumping bassline of the music seemed to rattle the building, the boarded up windows rattling slightly as the beat thrummed. Two towering figures flanked the entrance. Their sharp suits and unconcealed firearms marked them as far more than simple bouncers they were clearly not to be messed with. You took a deep breath and continued towards them with what you hoped was an air of arrogance. They watched you approach, their gazes hard and assessing. Both men turned to look at one another, a silent conversation taking place despite no words ever being said out loud. This was it, you were about to lose your chance to get inside. You prepared yourself to be turned away but to your surprise, they stepped aside without a word, allowing you to pass.

Inside, the club was a world of its own. Golden light spilled from ornate fixtures, illuminating the velvet booths and polished wood floors. The bar gleamed under the glow of recessed lighting, patrons flashing black cards and stacks of cash to catch the attention of the overwhelmed bartenders. The dance floor was a sea of movement, bodies swaying and shifting like a tide under the hypnotic pulse of the music. The scent of cigars, top-shelf liquor, and the faint metallic tang of power filled the air, mingling with the subtle but ever-present smell of danger.

Your outfit - a slinky black dress that clung to your curves in ways you weren’t entirely comfortable with - felt almost like a costume. The hemline barely brushed your thighs, and the plunging neckline revealed far more than you’d ever consider appropriate for work, but in a place like this, blending in was paramount. The gun tucked into your clutch was a poor substitute for your usual holster, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You adjusted the dress once more as you stepped deeper into the club, willing yourself to stay focused.

You were momentarily tipped off balance by an incoming wave of men all dressed in black and clearly not newcomers like you. As they brushed past you, you felt a hand caress your ass and jumped at the contact, feeling completely out of your depth. No one else in the club seemed out of pace, their confidence came from understanding that they were right where they belonged. People moved with purpose, predators wrapped in silk and sharp suits, their laughter sharp and hollow. Your gaze darted around the room, taking in the opulence and seedy undertones that clung to every corner.

You needed to compose yourself or your presence here would stick out like a sore thumb. You slipped into the bathroom, a sanctuary of warmth and soft golden light. The granite countertop gleamed under suspended lamps, and the faint scent of cedar and expensive soap lingered in the air. You leaned against the cool surface of the sink, your reflection staring back at you.

Your makeup was still flawless, your eyes sharp, but the tension in your shoulders betrayed the nerves simmering beneath your skin. You took a shaky breath, then another, trying to steady yourself. This was just another mission, you reminded yourself. Nothing more. You re-applied your lipstick with slow precision, forcing your trembling hands to still. The glossy sheen felt like a mask - a layer of confidence you desperately needed.

You straightened your posture, smoothing your dress as you turned toward the door. You’d gotten through tougher situations before, you told yourself. This was no different.

But the moment you stepped back into the main room, the world shifted.

Your eyes found him instantly, as though your gaze was magnetically drawn to him, his presence unmistakeable even in the crowded room. Sylus lounged in a private booth, the golden light casting a warm glow over his sharp features. His silver hair caught the light in a way that made it appear almost ethereal, though nothing about him could be called soft. He radiated control and confidence.

His tailored grey shirt hugged his broad chest and shoulders perfectly, the fabric stretching slightly with every subtle movement. A leather harness wrapped around his torso accentuating the powerful lines and defined musculature beneath. His long legs were stretched out beneath the table, the dark fabric of his trousers perfectly fitted to his form. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Your breath caught as you took him in, the sight of him sending an unbidden heat coursing through your veins. Even seated, he commanded the space, his every movement deliberate, calculated. The smirk playing on his lips suggested he knew exactly how captivating he was—and exactly who was watching him.

Sylus leaned forward slightly, the glow of the light above catching on the sharp planes of his jaw as his gaze flicked across the room, taking everything in with that predatory sharpness. Even here, surrounded by indulgence and luxury, and the elite, he stood out as a person of power.

And then you saw her.

Lucienne Carrion. The name alone was enough to make your stomach twist. The ruthless leader of Vokoti, an organisation that worked similarly to Onychinus but held nowhere near the same amount of power. . She was dressed in a striking red gown, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin and revealing legs that seemed to stretch for miles. Her dark hair was swept back, her sharp features softened only by the sultry smile she wore as she leaned in close to Sylus. Too close. Her hand rested on his thigh, her long nails tracing idle patterns over the fabric of his trousers.

Your stomach churned, anger and jealousy twisting together into a suffocating knot. The sight of her touching him ignited something primal in you, a possessiveness that you had no right to feel but couldn’t suppress. He didn’t even know you existed, and yet you felt betrayed, as though his presence with her was a personal affront.

Your mind spiralled, torn between the irrational anger bubbling within you and the cold logic that tried to tell you this wasn’t real. He was supposed to be untouchable, yet here he was, letting her get closer than anyone else ever had. The rational part of your brain left the room, leaving you with only one conclusion to make. The fucker was on a date. He doesn’t know you, the rational part of your mind whispered, but that voice was drowned out by the rush of jealousy that left your hands trembling.

You moved to the bar, ordering a drink to steady yourself. From your vantage point, you watched them closely, every touch between them like a dagger to your chest. You imagined Lucienne’s head hitting the polished wood of the table, over and over again until the smug smile on her face was replaced by nothing but blood and broken teeth. The thought was so vivid it startled you, and you shook your head, trying to clear the violent imagery.

Sylus’s carmine eyes flicked briefly in your direction, a smirk ghosting across his lips before he turned his attention back to Lucienne. The movement was subtle, so subtle that you missed it entirely.

Sylus grew even more smug at what that little look had revealed to him. He knew you were there. Of course he did. Sylus was always aware of his surroundings, and you had become a part of his landscape - one he found endlessly amusing. He had clocked you the second you had stepped into his club. After all, the security had given him a heads up that his special guest had arrived, just as he knew you would.

You looked far too tempting for Sylus’ preference. He’d found his thoughts wandering back to the night he’d seen you pleasuring yourself, how delicious your body had looked as you’d writhed in pleasure. Seeing you in that risky little number had his entire body on edge with need.

Pretty little hunter, he thought, the smirk deepening as he watched you from the corner of his eye. The tension in your posture, the way your gaze darted between him and Lucienne - it was written all over you. And oh, how he loved it. You were jealous, and he found it utterly delightful. A spark of satisfaction and pride ran through him, and he leaned into her touch, placing his hand lightly over Lucienne’s as if to seal the intimacy between them.

The sight made your stomach drop, but Sylus felt nothing but delight. He could see the tension in your posture, the way your drink sat untouched on the bar as your attention remained locked on him. Pretty little hunter, he thought with a smirk. How adorable you were, sitting there stewing in jealousy, your emotions practically written across your face.

He leaned closer to Lucienne, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh, the sound low and sultry. He didn’t care about Lucienne, this was a business meeting after all, but the way your jaw tightened at the sight of them together was worth every second of the charade.

Your nails bit into the flesh of your palm, the pain grounding you just enough to keep your composure. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter, but the bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your tongue. You had killed a man to protect him, had risked everything for him, and now here he was, laughing and leaning into this bitch - allowing someone like her to touch him as though it meant nothing.

Lucienne’s laughter rang out, a low, sultry sound that only added fuel to the fire burning in your chest. And Sylus - how could he be so casual, so unaffected, when he had consumed your every waking thought?

Sylus stood, adjusting his shirt collar as he prepared to leave. Lucienne rose with him, her hand trailing down his arm in a gesture that made your teeth clench. He nodded to one of his men, his attention briefly drawn to the movement near the bar. You slipped deeper into the shadows, your mind racing.

How dare he move so freely, so unaffected, while he had consumed every part of you? It wasn’t fair. He had taken up so much space in your mind, haunted your every thought, and yet he lived his life without even a flicker of acknowledgment for what he had done to you.

As Sylus rose from the booth, Lucienne following closely behind him, you made a decision. You were done playing by the rules of the Hunter’s Association, done trying to reconcile your obsession with the mission. If Sylus was going to consume your every thought, then you would make sure he had no choice but to notice you.

The mission didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was Sylus - and making him yours, no matter the cost.

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

Chapter 4 is finally done! This one took me so long and I'm still not entirely happy with it to be honest but if I have to look at it for another day, I might cry!

Please let me know what you think

❥ Like, reblog, comment, message me, ask me something, literally anything - I live for your feedback on this ❥

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #sylus smut #lads #yandere sylus #yandere reader #yandere #writing #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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gmikaelson · 14 days ago

Text

The Assistant 3 | K.M

"And happiness is a luxury I can't afford. Not when it comes with an expiration date."

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Summary: Klaus takes Y/N on a little trip to the bayou...yay her

Part 2 « if you haven’t read it yet

Part 4

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The next day, as the clock struck 1 PM, Klaus decided that was enough sleep for Y/N, hangover or no hangover.

He strode purposefully toward her room, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he anticipated her hungover state. He threw open the door without warning, letting it slam against the wall.

"Rise and shine, love!" His voice was deliberately loud, taking sadistic pleasure in what he knew would be her discomfort. "I do hope last night's wine was worth what promises to be a spectacularly painful morning." He moved to throw open the curtains with theatrical flair.

He turned to face the bed with amusement. "You have exactly ten minutes to make yourself presentable. The werewolves are becoming rather... restless, and since you've proven so adept at handling supernatural negotiations..." his smirk widened maliciously, "I thought you might enjoy mediating their petty grievances. Consider it punishment for your drunk shenanigans last night."

Y/N groans, pulling the covers over her head at the sunlight, “I don’t get paid enough for this…oh wait, that's right. I don’t get paid at all,” she grumbles, “5 more minutes. Please”

Klaus moved with vampire speed, yanking the covers off her completely, earning a yelp

"You get paid in continued survival, which is far more generous than most who work for me receive." He loomed over her "And since you were so adamant about 'belonging' here last night, consider this your first official day as my willing assistant rather than my captive one." His smirk turned wickedly amused.

He picked up a glass of water from her nightstand, deliberately swirling it near her ear. "Now, you have two choices, love. Either you get up willingly, or I demonstrate just how effectively cold water cures hangovers." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "And do note - your drunken confessions last night have only encouraged my more... creative methods of motivation."

Her eyes snap open, and she immediately sits up and turns her head to him, “confessions? Oh god, what did I say?”

She doesn't remember much from last night.

Klaus' expression shifted to something darkly amused, enjoying her obvious panic. He set the water glass down with deliberate slowness.

"Oh, nothing too concerning..." His voice carried dangerous playfulness. "Just something about feeling like you belonged here, calling my compound 'home,' and quite adamantly declaring you didn't want to leave." He watched her reaction with predatory intensity. "Though my personal favorite was your delightfully bold statement about how I wouldn't kill you because I would have done it already."

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear. "You also put on quite a show trying to remove your dress. Though I'm sure you remember that part clearly." His smirk turned wicked as he straightened and saw the flush creeping up her cheeks. "Now, unless you'd like to discuss more of your drunken revelations, I suggest you get dressed. The werewolves await, and I do so enjoy watching them squirm in your... particular presence."

She furrows her brows. what was that supposed to mean? Pushing that thought away, she decided to focus on more pressing matters.

Covering her face with her hands, “Please tell me we’re not going out into the bayou” she groans.

Klaus watches her distress with malicious delight, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe.

"As a matter of fact..." his smirk widened with sadistic pleasure, "we are. And do wear something appropriate for trudging through mud. Can't have you stumbling around in heels like last night." His eyes glinted dangerously."Though I must say, your current suffering is providing excellent entertainment."

He pushed off the doorframe. "8 minutes now, love. And do try to look less... hungover. The wolves already think humans are weak - let's not prove them right." He paused at the door, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder. "Unless you'd prefer I carry you through the bayou again? Though I make no promises about avoiding the muddier paths this time."

She falls back onto the bed, pressing a pillow into her face and yelling

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The Mikaelson were all in the kitchen when Y/N made her way down. She wore jeans, rain boots, a sweater, a jacket, and a beanie. They all found her outfit hilarious

Klaus watched her stumble in with amusement, seated regally at the head of the table.

"Well, well... if it isn't the Quarter's most fashionable swamp explorer." His smirk widened as he took in her outfit.

"Oh, leave her be, Nik." Rebekah's voice carried poorly hidden laughter. "Though darling, you do look like you're preparing for an Arctic expedition rather than a trip to the bayou."

“It’s cold down there,” she grumbles defensively, heading to the fridge.

"I find it rather... practical," Elijah commented diplomatically, though his lips twitched.

Klaus stood with grace, moving to intercept her at the fridge. "No time for breakfast, love. The wolves await." His voice dripped with malicious pleasure. "Though I must say, that beanie is particularly... entertaining. Planning to start a new fashion trend among the pack?"

“What? Klaus, I’m starving. At least eat me grab something,” she pouts.

Klaus' eyes darkened at her pout, something flashing across his features before he masked it with irritation.

"Fine." He moved with vampire speed, grabbing an apple and tossing it at her with deliberate force. "There's your breakfast. Now-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Nik," Rebekah interrupted, rolling her eyes. "She can barely stand, let alone negotiate with werewolves. Let the poor girl eat."

Klaus turned to his sister with dangerous intent. "Since when do you care about the dietary needs of my assistant?"

"Since watching you pretend not to care is becoming painfully obvious," Rebekah smirked.

Klaus' jaw clenched as he turned back to Y/N. "Five minutes. Then we leave, whether you've finished or not. And do remove that ridiculous beanie - you look like a lost tourist."

Klaus stormed out as Y/N rolled her eyes. She grabs a toast and the cream cheese from the fridge turning to Rebekah, “What's his problem today? He’s more assholey than usual”

Rebekah's smirk widened as she shared a knowing look with Elijah.

"Oh, darling," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "my brother spent half the night brooding on his balcony after helping you undress. I'd say his mood has everything to do with-"

"Rebekah." Elijah's warning tone cut through, though his eyes held amusement.

"What? Someone needs to tell the poor girl why Nik's being particularly insufferable." Rebekah stood with elegant grace. "Though I suggest you eat quickly, love. He's not above carrying you out mid-bite."

Klaus' voice boomed from the courtyard. "I can hear you, sister! And Y/N, if you're not out here in two minutes, I'm letting the wolves handle their own disputes. I'm sure they'd be delighted to resolve things their way - with violence."

“I’m coming!” She calls out with annoyance.

She makes the sandwich and walks out, “god, I think you forget I’m human and I need actual food” she complains as she joins him in the courtyard.

Klaus sees that she's still wearing the beanie, his eye twitching out of annoyance. Stalking towards her with predatory grace, his hand shoots out to snatch it off her head.

"I warned you about this ridiculous accessory." He pocketed it with deliberate slowness, his eyes challenging her to protest. "I refuse to have my reputation undermined by an assistant who looks like she's attending a winter carnival rather than a supernatural negotiation."

"Rude" she mumbles under her breath

He studied her irritated expression as she took a bite of her sandwich. "And I haven't forgotten you're human - your various weaknesses remind me constantly." He moved closer, invading her space with threatening intent. "Though if you'd prefer, I could always turn you. That would solve your perpetual hunger issues... among other things." His smirk turned dangerous, knowing full well her stance on vampirism.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “no,” she says firmly before rolling her eyes and adjusting her hair with her free hand, “Let’s go. You're making my head hurt even more”

Klaus caught her wrist with lightning speed as she tried to walk ahead, his grip firm but careful as he pulled her closer.

"No?" His voice carried dangerous amusement. "Such conviction for someone who can barely handle a hangover. Though I must admit, your stubborn refusal to embrace immortality is becoming... intriguing." He released her wrist but maintained his imposing proximity.

He watched her adjust your hair again with calculated interest. "The car's waiting. Though given your current state, I suggest you finish that sandwich quickly. Wouldn't want you emptying your stomach all over my leather seats." His smirk turned malicious. "And do try to look less... hungover when we arrive. The wolves already think I've gone soft keeping a human assistant. Your current state isn't helping matters."

Y/N wishes she kept count of how many eye rolls a day Klaus can get out of her

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The car takes them as far as it can since it fully can’t enter the bayou. Klaus parks the car and then to Y/N with an amused smile, already anticipating her reaction. She had her arms crossed, “is there no chance I can wait for you here while you go to the meeting?” she pleads.

Klaus emerged from the car, appearing at her door with vampire speed. He yanked it open with theatrical flair.

"Not a chance, love." His smirk widened with malicious delight. "You were so eager to prove your worth as my assistant last night. Something about 'belonging' here?" He leaned into the car, his presence deliberately intimidating. "Besides, the wolves respond remarkably well to your... particular brand of negotiation. Even if you do look like you're about to be sick."

He straightened, gesturing to the muddy path ahead with mock courtesy."Now, shall we proceed with dignity, or do I need to carry you through the swamp? Though I warn you - my generous mood from last night has... expired." His eyes glinted dangerously. "And do mind the snakes. They tend to be rather active this time of day."

Another eye roll, “you’re making me regret that particular speech.” she says as she steps out of the car.

“And do mind the fact that you’ll have to carry a very hysterical me if I do get bit by a snake,” she starts confidently marching ahead without him, "are you just going to stand there?" she calls out as she steps over a fallen log.

Klaus watched her determined march in the wrong direction with amusement, letting her get a few steps ahead before calling out.

"While I do enjoy your misplaced confidence, love, the wolves are in the opposite direction." He appeared suddenly beside her, his hand settling on her lower back to steer her around. "Though I must say, your current path would have led to a rather fascinating encounter with the local alligator population."

He guided her with possessive intent, keeping her close as they navigated the muddy terrain. "And regarding snake bites..." his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "my blood would cure you instantly. Though watching you debate between death and vampirism might prove... entertaining." His smirk turned predatory. "Unless you'd prefer I simply carry you now? Save us both the inevitable drama of your wildlife encounters."

“Vampirism? Why? You planning to snap my neck after you heal me? Because if I don’t die, then I won’t turn.” She keeps her eyes on the ground, watching her step as they tread through the bayou.

Klaus' hand tightened fractionally on her back at the casual discussion of death, something dangerous flashing in his eyes.

“You know, shouldn’t they be coming to us?” she huffs, reaching to move a branch from her face

"Careful, love. Your knowledge of vampire mechanics is showing." He moved the next branch before she could reach it, his movements possessive. "And they come to us when I'm feeling generous. Today..." his smirk turned malicious, "I thought a muddy trek might help with your hangover."

He caught her as she stumbled slightly, his grip firm. "As for snapping your neck..." he leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear, "there are far more creative ways to turn someone. Though your adamant refusal to even consider immortality is becoming rather... personal. Tell me, sweetheart, what exactly do you find so appealing about your fleeting humanity?"

She takes a moment to think, “Becoming a vampire...that means giving up my humanity, Klaus. It’s what makes life real, makes people real. As much as I struggle, I know that pain and vulnerability keep me grounded, keep me…me. And…I’d never forgive myself if I killed someone just because I was hungry.”

She turns to face him, “I’ve seen what immortality does to people, how it twists them, makes them lose sight of who they were. I don’t want that. I’d rather live a short, imperfect life than an eternity where I lose myself.” She shrugs, “I want to have kids, I want to grow old with someone beside me. They may seem like silly and inferior dreams to you, but they are everything to me”

Klaus stilled completely at her words, something unfamiliar and almost vulnerable flickering across his features before his expression hardened into something more dangerous.

"Such profound wisdom from someone who could barely remove her own dress last night." His voice carried its usual mockery, though there was an underlying tension. "Though I must say, your romantic notions of humanity are..." he paused, his jaw clenching, "naive. Growing old, having children - you speak of these things as if they're guaranteed. As if the world isn't filled with monsters who could snuff out those dreams in an instant."

His grip on her waist tightened possessively as he guided her over a particularly treacherous patch of mud. "But by all means, cling to your precious humanity. Though I wonder..." his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "what will you do when those 'inferior dreams' of yours conflict with your position here? Because make no mistake, love - this life you've chosen, working for me, it doesn't exactly accommodate white picket fences and growing old together."

Y/N pinches her brows together, “I…I guess I’ve never thought of how long I’d have this position for. We never really talked about it but…I can’t stay forever can I?” she looks back ahead, “I mean…I’m only 21, so it’s not like I plan to have kids anytime soon”

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously, his fingers digging slightly into her waist at the mention of her leaving.

"Forever is such a... loaded term." His voice carried lethal undertones as he pulled her closer, ostensibly to help her over a fallen log. "Though I find it interesting that you're already planning your eventual departure. Perhaps last night's declarations of 'belonging' were merely the wine talking after all."

Was that...bitterness in his tone?

He stopped abruptly, turning her to face him, "Let me make something perfectly clear, love. I don't train assistants just to watch them scamper off to live out their human fantasies." His eyes bore into hers with dangerous intensity. "The position is yours for as long as you prove useful. Though how you balance that with your... domestic aspirations, well..." his smirk turned cruel, "that's your problem to solve, isn't it?"

He watches her cross her arms, “and what’s your definition of useful exactly?”

Klaus studied her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression as he made a decision.

"Useful..." he stepped closer, his voice dropping low, "is someone I can trust with more than just contracts and negotiations." His eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability before hardening again. "There was no wolf meeting today, love. Consider this a... test of sorts."

He gestured ahead where smoke could be seen rising above the trees. "My daughter is staying with her mother in the bayou. And while I excel at many things, sharing my vulnerabilities isn't one of them." His expression turned threatening. "So understand this - if I'm about to introduce you to the most precious thing in my existence, your earlier talk of leaving becomes... problematic. Hope's safety depends on absolute loyalty from those who know of her."

Y/N's eyes widen slightly, and she takes a sharp breath, “You…you want me to meet your daughter?” Does he trust me that much?

Klaus watched your reaction intently, his expression a dangerous mix of vulnerability and threat.

As if he read her mind, "Trust isn't something I give easily, love." He moved closer, his hand coming up to grip her chin. "In fact, the list of people I trust with Hope's existence is remarkably... short. Most who learn of her don't live long enough to speak of it." His thumb traced her jaw with deliberate slowness. "So yes, I'm choosing to trust you. Unless you'd prefer I reconsider?"

His eyes darkened with lethal promise. "Though understand this - if any harm comes to her because of this trust, if you breathe a word of her existence to anyone..." he leaned closer, "your dreams of growing old will become the least of your concerns. Are we clear?"

She nods, understanding the weight of his words, "Klaus, I would never...please. Believe me." she smiles, bringing a hand up and wrapping it around his wrist

Klaus stilled at her touch, his eyes flickering with something intense as he studied her expression. For a moment, his usual mask slipped, revealing a father's vulnerability beneath the monster.

"I know." His voice was uncharacteristically soft before he caught himself, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. "Which is precisely why you're still breathing after last night's drunken adventures." He released her slowly, though his expression remained intense.

He turned to lead the way, but not before his hand found the small of her back again, more possessive than before. "Though I warn you - if you attempt to dress my daughter in ridiculous beanies like yours, we'll be having a very different conversation." His threat carried an undercurrent of something almost playful, though his protective nature remained evident.

She snorts, "Aw man, and here I was planning to knit her one"

Klaus' head snapped toward her, though his eyes betrayed a hint of reluctant amusement.

"You're testing my patience, love. Though I suppose it's better than your suggestion of reorganizing my art studio. A suggestion, mind you, that we will be discussing when you're less...hungover."

They make their way to the cabin, Hayley stepping out and holding a baby in her arms. The baby couldn't be more than a year and a half.

"Omg," Y/N says under her breath, "Klaus, she's adorable," She says with wide eyes and a wider grin. Y/N was waiting for Klaus to go ahead so she could follow.

Klaus watched your reaction with intense scrutiny, something softening in his expression at your genuine delight.

"Of course she is. She's my daughter." Despite his arrogant words, his voice carried unmistakable pride and tenderness. "Though I warn you - that adorable facade hides a rather impressive talent for mischief." He placed his hand on her lower back again, guiding her forward with possessive intent.

He moved toward Hayley and Hope, though his usual threatening demeanor was notably tempered. "Little wolf," he addressed Hayley with a nod before his attention fixed entirely on Hope, his entire being transforming in his daughter's presence. "And there's my littlest wolf." He turned back to Y/N with an uncharacteristically genuine expression. "Well? Are you going to stand there gawking, or would you like to meet the most powerful witch in New Orleans?"

Y/N smiles, "Hey there, little one," she says in a soft tone, raising her hand hesitantly before seeing Hayley nod in approval. she finally brings her hand to Hopes's head, stroking gently. "Aren't you just the cutest thing ever? Wait" She looks to Klaus, "Did you say witch?"

Klaus watched your interaction with Hope intently, a rare genuine smile playing at his lips before it turned into his signature smirk at your question.

"Firstborn Mikaelson witches are rather... special." He moved closer, his presence protective over both Y/N and Hope. "Though perhaps we should save the magical theory lesson for when you're not still recovering from last night's... adventures." His eyes glinted with amusement.

He observed as Hope reached for her hair with fascination, her tiny fingers grasping at the strands. "Careful love, she has her father's habit of getting what she wants." His voice carried both warning and pride. "Though I must say, she seems rather... taken with you. Usually, she sets things on fire when meeting new people." He shared a knowing look with Hayley before turning back to Y/N.

"I suppose this means your position as my assistant just became considerably more... permanent."

"Yay, me," she says sarcastically. "So this was just a test? And stop bringing up my 'adventure' last night. It's not like–Ouch," she winces as Hope tugs her hair.

Klaus moved with vampire speed, his hand gently but firmly disentangling Hope's grip from your hair. His proximity was deliberately intimidating, though his touch remained careful.

"Now, littlest wolf," his voice carried an amused warning, "we don't want to scare away daddy's assistant before she's had a chance to knit you that ridiculous beanie, do we?" He smirked at her reaction before adding, "And as for last night's adventures... consider yourself lucky I'm only mentioning the PG portions in present company."

Y/N's eyes widen slightly and her head snaps to an amused Hayley, "I assure you, that means absolutely nothing"

Klaus maintained his position close to Y/N, one hand still hovering protectively near Hope while the other settled possessively on her lower back. "Though you're right about one thing - this was indeed a test. One you've passed... surprisingly well. Perhaps those human dreams of yours aren't as incompatible with your position as you thought. After all..." his smirk turned soft, "Hope could use someone in her life who actually ages."

Klaus watched as Hope reached for Y/N again, his ancient mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Her natural ease with his daughter stirred something dangerous within him - a want he hadn't anticipated. The way she smiled at Hope, genuine and warm, without any trace of the fear most showed around his family, reminded him painfully of Camille. Yet this was different.

Her stubborn insistence on remaining human, her fierce defense of mortality - it should infuriate him. Instead, he found himself increasingly fascinated by her humanity, by the way she challenged him while somehow becoming more essential to his carefully constructed world. The thought of her eventually leaving, of pursuing those human dreams she spoke of so passionately, caused a possessive rage he wasn't prepared to examine.

Having her meet Hope wasn't just a test of loyalty - it was a calculated move to bind her closer, to give her another reason to stay. The fact that Hope took to her so naturally only complicated matters. He found himself imagining Y/N as a permanent fixture in their lives, helping raise Hope with that peculiar human perspective he both mocked and secretly valued. It was a dangerous path of thinking - one that made him want to either turn her immediately or lock her away where nothing could harm her precious mortality.

Yet watching Y/N now, her hair catching the bayou sunlight as she interacted with his daughter, Klaus felt his carefully maintained control slipping. She was becoming more than just an asset, more than just an amusing human pet project. The realization made him want to either kill her or keep her forever - and he wasn't entirely sure which option was more dangerous.

Hayley turns to Y/N, "Y/N, I'd love to get to know you but could you hold Hope for a moment? I have some things to discuss with Klaus"

"Of course! I'd be happy to" she responds with an excited smile, taking Hope into her arms. She walks off the porch and goes towards the lake, talking to Hope

Klaus watched as she walked away with his daughter, every muscle in his body coiled with protective instinct. The sight of her holding Hope stirred something primal in him - a mixture of possessiveness and... something else he refused to name.

"She's different." Hayley's voice interrupted his focused observation of how naturally she adjusted Hope in her arms, how his daughter's delighted giggles carried across the bayou air.

His jaw clenched, eyes never leaving her form as she pointed out something in the water to Hope. "She's human." The words came out more defensive than intended, laced with frustration. "And stubborn enough to insist on staying that way." He fought the urge to use vampire speed to close the distance when Hope reached for her necklace.

A low growl escaped him as he watched Y/N navigate the muddy ground with careful steps, protecting his daughter with instinctive grace. "She's temporary." The words tasted like lies even as he spoke them, his fingers flexing with the need to possess, to control, to keep. "A useful assistant, nothing more." Yet even as he said it, he knew - she was becoming dangerously close to being everything.

Hayley rolls her eyes, "really, Klaus? Is that what you tell yourself? I keep in touch with Rebekah you know." She teases before her expression softens, "Klaus, it's okay to let someone in again. you deserve to be happy"

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously, though his eyes remained fixed on Y/N's form by the water.

"Rebekah should learn to hold her tongue before I remove it." His voice carried lethal promise but lacked its usual conviction. He watched as she laughed at something Hope did, the sound carrying across the bayou.

"And happiness is a luxury I can't afford. Not when it comes with an expiration date."

His hands clenched into fists as he observed Hope patting Y/N's cheeks, her gentle response making something in his chest twist uncomfortably.

"She wants children, Hayley. A mortal life. To grow old." The words came out like a curse. "And I find myself..." he paused, jaw clenching, "unable to decide whether to turn her against her will or let her go entirely. Both options are becoming increasingly... unacceptable." His voice dropped to a whisper, watching as Y/N carefully kept Hope from grabbing at a dragonfly.

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They spend the day with Hope and Hayley, and when she goes in to put Hope down for a nap, Y/N turns to Klaus.

"Klaus" she whispers, "I have a question"

Klaus turned to her, his expression still conflicted from the day's events.

"By all means, love." He moved closer, invading her personal space like usual. "Though if you're about to ask me about last night's escapades again..."

She rolls her eyes, "No, and I'm done hearing about last night." she furrows her brows as she thinks about the question

He intensely scrutinized her face, noting how the afternoon light caught the gold in her hair. "Well? Out with it. Or has spending the day with a baby witch rendered you speechless?" His teasing carried an undercurrent of something almost... gentle.

"I thought vampires can't procreate...?

"Ah. Finally caught that particular detail, did you?" He moved closer, his presence deliberately intimidating. "I'm not just any vampire, love. I'm the Original Hybrid - half vampire, half werewolf. Nature's loophole, if you will." His smirk turned predatory. "Though I must say, your curiosity about my... reproductive capabilities is rather interesting."

He leaned in, his breath ghosting your ear. "Hope was a miracle. One that nearly cost me everything to protect." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Which is precisely why so few know of her existence. Those who do either die... or become family." The implications in his tone were heavy with meaning. "I trust you understand which category you're currently falling into?"

Klaus leans back, his tone thoughtful. "Vampirism, you see, is a curse. When a human or witch is turned, they lose their humanity—they become something entirely different, a new species. They lose the ability to procreate, they can’t walk in the sun... all the things that make them human, gone." He smirks slightly. "But werewolves? They’re different. They’re hybrids from the start—half human, half wolf. Both sides can still procreate, still walk in the sun. When they trigger their curse, they don’t lose their human traits the way a vampire does."

His expression darkens slightly. "Now, here’s the trick—vampirism doesn’t affect werewolves the same way. They can’t just turn into vampires; if they try, they die. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen when I tried to create more hybrids." Klaus leans forward, eyes gleaming. "There are two ways for a werewolf to become a vampire. First, they die with my blood in their system and then drink doppelganger blood to complete the transition. Or, they drink Hope’s blood. That’s the key." He pauses, letting the weight of it sink in.

Y/N tilts her head slightly, "So...when a werewolf turns this way, only their human side becomes a vampire—the wolf side remains immune...right?"

He grins. "Clever girl. Yes, a very particular set of circumstances, but it works." He leaned in, his breath ghosting her ear. "Hope was a miracle. One that nearly cost me everything to protect." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Which is precisely why so few know of her existence. Those who do either die... or become family." The implications in his tone were heavy with meaning. "I trust you understand which category you're currently falling into?"

She nods, but Hayley returns before she can say anything. Y/N takes a step back, clearing her throat

Klaus watched her retreat with amusement, though annoyance flashed in his eyes at the distance she put between them.

"Perfect timing as always, Hayley." His voice carried a dangerous edge as he turned to Hayley, though his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N. "I trust our littlest witch is settled?" He moved with calculated grace to maintain his proximity to Y/N despite her attempt to create space.

His hand found its way to her lower back again, the touch deliberately possessive. "Perhaps it's time we headed back. Unless..." he turned to Y/N, "you'd like to continue our discussion about hybrid biology?" The teasing threat in his voice was clear, though there was something else underlying it - something almost protective after the day's revelations.

She elbows him, “No. Besides, it’s getting dark, and we still have to walk all the way to the car…in the muddy Bayou,” she groans.

Klaus caught her elbow, his grip firm but careful as his smirk widened.

"Careful, love. I might take that as an invitation." Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms gracefully. "Consider this a reward for not dropping my daughter today." His voice carried mock generosity, though his hold was possessively secure.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as Klaus did that in front of Hayley

He nodded to Hayley with uncharacteristic warmth. "We'll return soon." Then, turning his attention back to Y/ with amusement, "Now, hold on tight, sweetheart. Unless you'd prefer I let the mosquitoes have their way with you?" His eyes glinted with mischief. "Though I must say, your earlier complaints about my speed were rather... entertaining."

She just glares at him, “you’ve got to stop doing this” she says as he walks out of the cabin, crossing her arms and refusing to hold on

Klaus' grip tightened deliberately as he felt her defiance

"Do I?" He purposely took a particularly jarring step, his supernatural balance ensuring she wouldn't fall despite your stubbornness. "And here I thought you enjoyed our little... excursions. Especially after last night's enthusiastic commentary about my carrying capabilities."

He paused at the edge of the clearing, his expression darkening with dangerous intent. "Last chance to hold on properly, love. Unless you'd prefer I demonstrate exactly how fast I can move through this swamp?" His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "Though I should warn you - at vampire speed, those branches you so carefully avoided earlier become rather... unavoidable."

She lets out a loud sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck

Klaus' smirk turned triumphant, though something softer flickered in his eyes at her closeness.

"There's a good girl." His voice carried both mockery and satisfaction as he adjusted his hold, drawing her closer to his chest. "Though your reluctance is rather amusing, considering how eagerly you clung to me last night." He started moving with supernatural grace through the bayou, his speed calculated to be just unsettling enough to make her hold on tighter.

The darkening sky cast shadows through the trees as he navigated the treacherous terrain. "I must say, love, you handled Hope remarkably well today." His tone shifted to something more serious, though no less dangerous. "Though this does mean you're rather... irreplaceable now. Can't have my daughter growing attached to someone who plans to leave, can we?" The threat in his voice was subtle but clear, masked beneath a layer of casual conversation.

They get to the car and she waits for him to let her go, but he doesn't, "Klaus. You can put me down now" she grumbles

Klaus chuckles, his grip remaining firm as he holds her against his chest.

"And deny myself the pleasure of your discomfort?" He smirks but makes no move to release her. "Besides, after your impressive performance with Hope today, I'm feeling rather... possessive." His eyes glinted dangerously in the fading light.

He finally set her down with exaggerated slowness, though his hands lingered longer than necessary. "Though I must admit, your stubborn defiance is becoming rather... entertaining." His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "Almost as entertaining as your drunken confessions about how safe you feel in my arms."

She rubs her temples, "I'm never drinking around you again," she mumbles, pulling on the car door handle, but the car is locked. "Klaus! Open the car." She pulls on it a couple more times

Klaus watched her frustration with amusement, taking his time to fish the keys from his pocket.

"Perhaps next time you'll think twice before reorganizing my study." He dangled the keys just out of reach, his smirk widening at her obvious annoyance. "Though your drunken confessions were rather... illuminating. Particularly the part about my dimples."

He finally unlocked the car with theatrical slowness, opening her door with mock chivalry. "And while your vow of sobriety is admirable, love, I rather enjoyed seeing you so... uninhibited. Though next time, perhaps we'll skip the part where you tried to alphabetize my weapons collection."

Y/N gets in the car, but Klaus doesn't close the door, instead leaning against the door with a smug smile, "What?" she says in annoyance, "I'm glad you're amused by this"

Klaus leaned further into the car space, his presence intimidating as he trapped her between himself and the seat.

"Amused doesn't quite cover it, love." He reached out, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers.

His eyes darkened with something possessive. "Though I must say, your passionate speech about how the compound feels like home was particularly... compelling. Almost as compelling as your rather detailed observations about how well I fill out my henley shirts." He paused, letting the embarrassment sink in. "Shall I continue? I have quite the inventory of your drunken confessions."

She groans covering her face with her hands, "Just kill me already. Please"

Klaus let out a chuckle, reaching to pull her hands from her face with a gentleness that belied his predatory stance.

"Now where would be the fun in that?" His grip on her wrists remained possessive as his smirk widened. "Besides, after today's success with Hope, I'm rather invested in keeping you... alive and thoroughly mortified." He leaned closer, "Though I must say, your suggestion about where I could stick my painting brushes was rather... creative."

Finally releasing her wrists, he straightened up. "Consider your embarrassment penance for reorganizing my art supplies. Though if you'd prefer death..." his eyes glinted with amusement, "I could always share the rest of your confessions with Elijah. I'm sure he'd be particularly interested in your thoughts about his suit collection."

"get in the damn car, Klaus"

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We're slowly getting there with these two ;)

Once again, thanks for reading. All the comments and reblogs are so motivating. Feel free to comment anything, what you liked, or what you'd like to see. See you in part 4!

Part 4 here

ily <3

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