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xuchiya · 2 months

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"She's the manager" || song mingi ||

| genre: fluff. fluff. | mentions: bruise. lil bit of blood. this is me when i played fight with my boxing partner.

boxing has to be a well-known activity in your town and being part of the town for so long, you have taken lessons. Your grandfather encourages you to at least learn the basics to which your mother disagrees as it is too violent for her but you just stand there and balance the pros and cons. Though it all flew out when you saw your grandfather having the sparkles in his eyes disappear.

Sooner or later, if you would have known that boxing will forever be with you until you are an adult, your grandfather would be proud of you. From junior high up to your last years of your college years; boxing has one thing that stayed with you.

Now that you were working and had stopped training until your co-worker from a company that you were currently working at had left you a message about new members of the arena having enrolled. You were curious as to have the arena filled in with new athletes. The place is soon closing due to less and less people having not tried to enroll in the arena.

The same training arena that you grew up to. And now, you and the other people that you grew up with in training were managing it.

You - [That’s odd and exciting! We’ll be there in 5!] seen 15:45 San - [We’re back on business baby!] seen 15:46 Seonghwa - [We were always in business, San-ah.] seen 15:48 Wooyoung - [WAHAHAHAHA PABO SANNIE~!] seen 15: 49 San - [... shut up.] 15:50

You arrive at the training arena a few minutes late of what time you mentioned but with the noise and cheering from the inside court, you know none of them have any problem with your tardiness. As you adjusted the strap on your shoulder, you took upon yourself to see a rather tall— taller than Seonghwa— in a battle between Jongho.

The bell clings and the fight ends with Jongho raising his gloved hand, you shake your head as if you knew no one can defeat the guy. Cheers from your friends made the other guy sigh and step out of the ring.

“Noona!” Jongho waved his free hand. You waved back, placing your bag down on the bench as Seonghwa approached you with four other guys trailing behind me, one of them was the guy that Jongho defeated.

San, Wooyoung and Jongho stood beside you as Seonghwa introduced you to the new members of the training arena. You bowed your head with a warm smile, “I’m not actually the owner of this arena—”

“She’s the manager.” San butted in. You chuckle, “Like he said but don’t mind it and also thank you. This is enough for us to save the arena as we have grown up here and been in this sport for so long.”

Hongjoong the one you notice because of his height difference with the two tall members, “These are actually my sons. I’m just here to learn a few tricks and there. The eldest— Yunho here wanted to do it out of curiosity, Yeosang my middle kid is interested and my youngest here— as you have seen, he dreams big and wanted to be part of the Olympics.”

Your mouth gaped open as you trailed on the youngest, clapping in adoration, “That is quite a dream but in this place, we’ll do our best for you to reach your dreams.”

Mingi, beaming at your words, bows at least a ninety-degree angle, shouting, “thank you!” You wave at his enthusiasm a smile still there, “No need. We should be thanking you instead, so with this, are you guys ready?”

“Oh I forgot, this is Seonghwa—as you guys met him a while ago, he is actually the eldest among us.” You said pointing to Seonghwa who bows then pointing at Wooyoung and San, “San here is actually our fighter while Wooyoung here is our coach and manager when it comes to games but he also fights in the arena a few times and lastly, Jongho— he is actually our coach here inside.”

Mr. Kim, you can go to Seonghwa here to learn the basics. San please help Yeosang with his lessons and advances, you too Wooyoung. Jongho?” You saw him eyeing Mingi to which Mingi cowers at his stares, you smack Jongho before you let him train Yunho instead. Mingi felt relieved to be away from his deadly eyes.

You swing your bag as you lead Mingi to your own training area. It was silent until Mingi cleared his throat, catching up, “So .. Do you compete too?” You look over your shoulder, your lips pursuing to the side as you shrug, “Yeah but not that much like San does.”

“So you know how to?” You flip all the light switches on then placing your bag down on the bench, zipping it open as you take out your bandage and wrap it around your wrist then up to your knuckles. “Yeah, I have been boxing since I was in my junior year.”

“You’re strong.” You chuckle, looking at him as you notice his eyes were sparkling. Your eyes trailed in his features, reminding you of how your grandfather looks at you when you told him that you were training. The same sparkle, adoration and pride in their eyes.

Before you let yourself dwell in the nostalgic moment, you cleared your throat, nodding at the materials near the wall, “Go ahead and start getting ready. Warm up at 15.” You took your shirt from your bag before disappearing to the bathroom.

“You have to know which is your dominant hand…” You said, angling your curled fist on your face, then stretching your left hand forward in a fast pace, “Punching using your dominant hand will help you defeat your opponent, the non-dominant one will be like your guide to make an opening or helps you land more punch on your dominant.”

Mingi does a couple of punches before nodding, “I think left is my dominant.” You nodded, directing him to a body punching bag. You made a footwork drill for him that you knew for sure he would get it in a few minutes.

“When you land a punch, you land on your dominant then follow by your non-dominant then again and again until ... ”Your fist lands on the bag on the last part, you let out a hard ‘ah’ as you land a hard straight punch on the bag making it swing further.

Mingi could feel chills running down his arms as he watched you land punch after punch on the bag and only Mingi could do is nodded, gulping “Okay.” He stood on the other punching bag. You watch him executing the combination until you hum, standing beside him.

“When you punch on your left, stand here on your right. It will make you swing better .. Go.” Mingi did, blowing a soft sigh before repeating the combination and earning a different result to which you nodded with a clap, “Good good. Do this combination but faster.”

In under 30 minutes, Mingi had picked up at least 4 combinations and you were, to say, impressed. You have taught kids and young teens simple combinations and it took them a while to do so but Mingi? It felt as if he was born to do this. Mingi is fast, his agility and stamina are no joke as he had you sparing the next minute.

So, being able to compete within six months is an achievement not only to benefit the arena but to Mingi as well. His dream was starting to build up and you were glad that it was slowly advancing, few athletes and local boxer competitors had recognized Mingi’s potential and had taken him for a few words and training in their own arena. You, being Mingi’s manager and coach, were proud of him.

Much more to his father and his two older brothers who had been supportive of his career from the very start. You saluted Hongjoong for making his kid's dream come true.

You landed a punch but he had dodge it before landing on your right side. You felt the punch surge through you before you took a step back, doing a small cross side and landing a punch around his stomach, combining it with an uppercut.

Mingi is shook making stumble backwards, “What the—” Mingi yelp retreating a few steps as you swing twice. You chuckle, exhaling sharply, “Focus.”

The spar the Mingi initiated lasted for an hour and half before you called time. Sweats drip down your forehead, trailing on your chin and neck. You were not out of shape but the fact comparing your stamina to his is beyond. It is nothing new when he and San spar and the round lasts for 4 when San taps out.

“Hey manager-nim, here.” You turn around to see San tossing you a towel. Catching it with ease, you wipe the sweat from your face and neck, feeling the cool fabric soothe your overheated skin. "Thanks, San," you say with a tired smile, draping the towel over your shoulders. Mingi is catching his breath too, leaning against the ropes of the ring, a wide grin on his face. "That was intense! You're really good," he praises, his eyes still sparkling with excitement.

"You never fail to impress me Mingi," you reply, stepping out of the ring and grabbing a bottle of water from the nearby bench. "You've come a long way, Mingi. I'm really proud of your progress."

He blushes slightly at your words, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you."

The two of you step outside the training arena, the cool evening breeze a welcome change from the stuffy air inside. Mingi takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky as the first stars begin to twinkle. "You know," he begins, his tone more serious, "I've been thinking a lot about my future and what I want to achieve."

You nod, taking a sip of your water. "And?"

"I really want to make it to the Olympics. But not just for myself," he says, turning to face you. "I want to do it for my family, for everyone at the arena and for you. You've been an incredible mentor, and I want to make you proud."

Touched by his sincerity, you place a hand on his shoulder. "You already make me proud, Mingi. Your dedication and hard work are inspiring. I have no doubt that you'll achieve your dreams."

He smiles, a determined look in his eyes. "And I'll keep striving to achieve not only my dream but yours too. I know you had to give up a lot to keep this place running. I want to see you back in the ring, competing and winning."

Your heart swells with gratitude and pride. You were so focused on your outside work that giving this a chance was slim to nothing and now that someone has to do it for you felt as if a part of you were reliving again and the same fire of determination were ignited. "Thank you, Mingi. That means more to me than you know. We'll make it happen together."

As you both stand there, taking in the peaceful night, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. The journey ahead might be challenging, but with Mingi's unwavering determination and the support of your friends and family, you know that anything is possible. Together, you'll continue to fight, to train, and to dream big, keeping the spirit of boxing alive in your town.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi ateez #ateez song mingi #mingi #mingi fluff #ateez song mingi fluff #mingi x reader

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adnauseum11 · 6 months

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Operational Risk Management (John Price x Reader)

Kate calls with some bad news.

1k words

CW: swearing, military inaccuracies

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, master list also pinned to my blog.

Masterlist

Ao3

John’s phone lights up in the center console with an incoming call just as you are returning to the flat. Two hefty shopping bags of new glitter-less decorations are safely secured in the back seat. His patience ran out about half-way back from your excursion, locked in a snarl of holiday traffic. When he began to grumble about the lack of common sense on display, you reminded him that he wanted to tag along with you. The look he gave you afterwards was dark, but you didn’t let it faze you, used as you are to his intermittent grumpiness. Still, you’re happy to claim your spoils and clear off so he can take his phone call in peace, his annoyance doing nothing to dampen your spirit.

“Hello?”

John’s tone is curt. The familiar sound of chopper blades swells and then he can hear Kate over the staticky line, immediately picturing her cupping her hand over the bottom of the phone as she clears the rotors.

“John? Got some news, you aren’t going to like it. Can you talk?”

She’s moving, likely just landed. John’s brain is leaping ahead, trying to fill in the gaps.

“Yeah. What happened? Gaz alright?”

Kate cuts straight to the chase, apparently no time to waste on pleasantries.

“The commander Gaz is working under is a younger brother to man killed in Las Almas - belonged to Shadow Company. He’s leveraged his position with Norris to start knocking on doors to find out what happened to his brother and he’s managed to get enough intel to hold the 141 responsible.”

“Jesus Christ Laswell.”

John’s palm comes down with a slap on the steering wheel, his mood worsening. He can feel his blood pressure rising as Kate’s terse voice washes over him.

“I suspect Norris is feeding him information. We’re going to keep working on that end, see if we can confirm anything. When you turned down the contract and that photo popped up, he tried a different path. The commander did basic training with your girl’s would-be-assailant years ago, before the dishonourable discharge. We think he’s currently switching tack again. Gaz is obviously compromised, and they’re about to ship out.”

“Ah hell Kate.”

John’s violently pushing his fingers through his hair, the implications of Gaz being in the thick of this commander’s operation making his stomach turn to lead.

“I didn’t know John, didn’t think Norris’ men needed further vetting. Lesson learned. I’ve got a potential intercept point. Right now, we’re handling some rendezvous communications for them as we’ve got friendlies in the field, Gaz being one. They’re going to be sent to recon a chemical manufacture plant in Lithuania for a potential raid.”

Kate’s tone suggests she’s well aware of her fuck up, and John respects her enough to leave it there, satisfied with her acknowledgement.

“There’s got to be a vulnerability we can exploit to get Gaz to safety.”

John’s instinct is to plan, even without any intel yet.

“Ghost is planning an avenue of approach for the potential intercept point before whatever the commander is up to comes to fruition out there. We urgently could use an extra set of hands in the know, Captain. Timing is critical here. Gaz’s assigned taskforce won’t be expecting us. If we do this correctly, we can bury this for good with no one the wiser.”

John looks up at the flat, can almost picture you flitting around, rearranging items to account for your new prizes. His heart sinks as he makes the only decision his conscience will allow.

“Yeah, my bag is mostly packed. I can be at the base in a few hours for pick up if you can arrange liaison.”

Kate asks the question he’s been dreading since this conversation started. He can guess at the outcome and is in no hurry to be proven right.

“Your girl going to be ok with the last-minute change of holiday plans?”

At the mention of you, John’s brain immediately pulls the image of you naked in the shower, flushed from the orgasm he’d just given you, admitting you’re in love. The center of his chest aches at the thought of leaving you alone during the holiday you’re so obviously excited to share with him. At one point, early on, he was confident that he knew exactly what he was doing. His emotions lately tended to be out of control and headlong, almost impossible to moderate. After years of relentlessly telling himself it was better to keep his distance, to stay platonic, he’s finally getting what he’s coveted after all this time. And still, he can’t stop his greedy heart from wanting more. He fights back the uncharacteristic swell of emotion and clears his throat, refocusing on the conversation at hand.

“I’ll handle it. Not leaving anything this volatile for someone else to clean up. I want assurance it’s over.”

“If you’re sure. You’ve been moving fast with this woman John. I’m assuming you know what you’re doing here.”

His laugh is dark, the sound of a man whose best laid plans are unravelling in front of his eyes.

“Gaz would do the same. I’ll sort it out on my end, set up the liaison for 19:00.”

John is all business, putting any indecision firmly to rest in short order.

“We appreciate the assist; I’ll debrief you further once you’re on route. And John?”

“Yeah?”

He’s preoccupied, already trying to work out how to explain what’s about to happen to the woman he loves.

“Good luck, hope you bought her something nice.”

Kate’s tone is a mix of gentle teasing and honest concern. John’s foul mood refuses to rise to the occasion.

“Piss off Laswell.”

John grates out before hanging up the call and sighing deeply, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He shouts a handful of curses into the empty car, grateful for a mostly vacant street to witness his outburst. He takes several deep breaths to gather himself again before stepping out of the car to rejoin you in the flat and break the news.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @writeforfandoms @syoddeye @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

#fanfic #captain john price #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price cod #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x you #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #fanfiction

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ravenromanova · 1 year

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My Shining star

Pairings: Insecure Bucky x Healer Female reader

Summary: You’re the official healer for the Avengers. When Steve comes in begging you to heal Bucky you immediately say yes… But Bucky is hesitant (giving you guys a lil something before my next post)

word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Ptsd, talk of torture, Mentions of abuse and blood, (not really a warning but soft bucky 🥹 ik we all love him)

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

Ever since you joined the team 5 years ago you’ve been the north star to light the way. You were originally brought on as Bruce Banners second hand, But quickly became the teams personal healer. They figured out you had healing powers when one day Tony came in carrying Morgan who was in tears. He told you she had cut her finger on a piece of metal and wanted you to see how bad it was.

When you walked over to her you saw her puffy eyes and her snot filled nose. You held her hands and told her to take some deep breath with you. Once you two fell into a rhythm you saw a orange-ish glow emit from your hands. Before you could comprehend what had happened her cut was healed.

You dropped Morgan’s hands and freaked out looking at Tony and Bruce. They both looked at Morgan’s finger and saw that the cut was completely gone. Bruce asked you if that had ever happened before, and you said no. They proceeded to ask you about your family and if you knew of anyone who had powers, again you said no.

Eventually after they calmed you down they asked if they could run some tests to see what it could be. After a shit ton of tests and long nights you three finally found and answer. Biotherapeutic Manipulation was what your power was. Unfortunately you have no idea where it came from but, it’s assumed it’s a gene in your family that lies dormant.

That was two years ago and ever since then you’ve been the official team healer. Everyone comes to you for your healing powers along with them just loving being around you. The team loved having you around because you were just a ray of light.

No matter how hard you’ve been working. No matter what’s been going on in your personal life you were always happy. So it was a no brainer when Tony asked you to move into the compound. You accepted the offer with the brightest smile. And within a week you were moved onto the same floor with Steve, Sam and Bucky.

A few months went by and you got a lot closer with everyone on the team. Well everyone except Bucky. He was never a man of many words to begin with, But since you joined he was even more silent. He also never let you heal him. Bucky claimed that the serum would do it and that he didn’t need it.

So for months now when everyone else comes into the lab to get healed…Bucky without fail will tell you he’s fine.

You didn’t really think anything of it until he came back from a mission really beat up. He had three stab wounds, and at least two gunshot wounds as well. Steve brought him into the lab begging you to heal him. And again without fail he told you he was fine and that the serum would fix it for him.

“you’re not fine Bucky! you are profusely bleeding and you’re lucky you have passed out yet” You say a little annoyed at the super soldier.

“i will heal in a few hours y/n really i don’t need it” He continues to protest and Steve just sighs.

“Punk let her heal you ok? you can’t keep refusing when you’re seriously hurt” Steve tried to coax him into letting you heal his friend.

Bucky just shakes his head in response and You and Steve just sigh. It takes you a second to come up with an idea. Once the lightbulb goes off you give Steve a look that tells him to leave.

“i’ll give you guys a minute” He says as he leaves the lab with a nod and you walk back over to Bucky.

“why won’t you let me heal you?” The question is laced with concern as it leaves your lips.

“i don’t des- need it.” He switches he word choice thinking you won’t notice but of course you do.

Suddenly everything makes sense. Why he doesn’t talk. Why he trains alone. Why he doesn’t let you heal him. It’s all because he think he doesn’t deserve good things.

“Bucky- do you think you don’t deserve to be healed?” You ask as you slowly reach for his metal hand. He’s hesitant but he lets you hold it as he looks up at you.

His blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the sadness in them. Bucky slowly nods his head at your question. Your heartbreaks and this realization.

“Well that’s just not true. You deserve it just think the rest of the team does” You simply state trying to ease him into it.

“No i don’t. Not after everything i’ve done. I don’t deserve your kindness or your healing” He protests shaking his head and you grab his face and make him look at you.

“Listen to me very carefully James. You deserve good things. okay? You are a good person. And before you try to use your past to say you don’t. Let me ask you something. Did you ask to be taken by hydra?” You ask already knowing the answer but needing him to respond.

He shakes his head no at your question.

“Okay now did you ask to be turned into the winter soldier?” You question again as you drop your hands from his face.

He shakes his head again.

“Now lastly.. Did you ever ask to do what they made you?” The words are softer coming out this time.

Bucky shakes his head no and looks at you.

“Then it’s not your fault James. They did awful things to you. Yes it was your body doing it… But it wasn’t your mind. It wasn’t you. Because YOU are a good person. I know we don’t talk that much around here but i know you’re a good person James. Everyone around here knows that. Now let me heal you and show you something good” You kinda ramble on but you hope your words made an impact.

Bucky stares at you in response not quite sure how to respond. It makes him a few minutes before he mutters out an ‘okay’. You smile softly as you approach him taking off your white gloves to reveal your perfectly manicured hands.

“this might be a little awkward but i need you to take off your shirt” Bucky’s eyes widen at your words “I can’t heal the wounds if i don’t touch them” You continue to explain hoping it would ease his mind.

“o-okay” He stumbles out as he lifts up his shirt and takes it off. It takes everything in you to not stare at his broad chest. You rip your eyes off his toned abs and approach him.

“you’re gonna feel a tingling sensation but it won’t hurt okay? you can even watch what i do if that makes you feel better” You say as you place your hand over a small cut on his chest. Once you close your eyes and focus your breathing a orange glow emits from your hand.

Bucky watches as you place your hand on the cut and it slowly fades away. His eyes widen in amazement. Sure he’s heard of the power you hold but he’s never seen it in person. He watches as you go from wound to wound healing him. Suddenly you stop at his left shoulder and run your finger over the scar tissue.

He worriedly watches you as you place your hand on his shoulder blade. You hum to yourself as you attempt to heal any nerve damage in his shoulder due to the metal arm.

“H-how did you do that?” Bucky asks as he feels the pain disappear in his shoulder.

“Well i figured that HYDRA didn’t properly give you that arm so i had i feeling you had some nerve damage- plus Steve has also mentioned it before” You respond and you finish up the last cut on his face.

You’re suddenly really aware of how close your faces are. You notice how his deep blue eyes are focused on you. He grabs the hand that’s on his cheek and brings it to his lips. Bucky softly kisses your palm before holding your hand softly.

“Uh thank you for helping me- you really didn’t have to” He shyly says as he hops off the table and stands in front of you.

“Don’t do that- I helped you because yes it’s my job. But i also wanted to. I will gladly be the one to show you that you deserve any shred of good humanity has to offer” You respond as you start to clean up the lab a little.

“But still it means a lot that you healed me. You know you’re like the only person besides Steve to not look at me like a monster? or like i’m broken..” He says trailing off as he looks down at his feet.

“well you aren’t a monster nor were you ever one. And like i said you deserve nice things” You say finally looking up and meeting his gaze with a smile.

He nervously rubs his hands together before he speaks again. “would you like to maybe go out sometime? like to dinner or a movie?” Bucky asks still not meeting your gaze.

You laugh a little at how nervous he is. Even though you aren’t quite sure why he’s so nervous when he looks like that you still find it cute. You walk up to him and gently lift his head to look at you.

“I’d love to James.” You smile and he reaches for your hand and intertwines your finger together.

“how about tomorrow around 7?” He says with a goofy smile on his face. You admire his smile before you respond.

“sounds perfect” The excitement in your voice makes him smile wider. He runs this thumb over your knuckles for a moment as he looks at you.

“It’s a date then” He says before kissing your cheek and walking out of the lab. You stand there for a moment smiling like a idiot.

As bucky leaves he can’t contain the smile on his face. He finally got a date with the woman he’s been pining for since she’s arrived. You’re finally gonna be his shining star

~the end~

i do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on other sites

#bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel

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dreamymoonpearl · 6 months

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He almost ran over the servants and nobles he passed, all bowing and congratulating him on the birth of his first grandson.

His heart was beating so fast, his little pearl had gone into labor and he didn't want to miss it, but upon receiving the message and the long road he would have to go through, he knew that the possibility of the baby having already been born was high…

– Has the baby already been born? Where's Jace?

He asked Ser Harwin who was outside Lucerys' room, he looked just as anxious.

– He came in 10 minutes ago, Prince Luke didn't stop calling him, just a few seconds had passed before he stopped shouting.

Both men were interrupted by the doors opening slowly, with Prince Jacaerys with a smile and dazzling eyes, he looked so happy that they could breathe easily.

– It's a boy… a beautiful boy – he didn’t know who to look at Laenor and Harwin tried to see through the opening of the door – Luke said you both have to meet him.

Oh…Laenor watched Ser Harwin tense, of course, there were eyes everywhere, especially those of “them” on his children since they were born, this would be no exception.

But he didn't care anymore, years ago he didn't protect Rhaenyra enough, but he wouldn't fail with Luke, especially Jace wouldn't let anyone dare parade his husband and newborn son

– There is no one nearby – he said, taking a quick look around – and it is our servants who attended the birth,after you,Ser Strong.

Ser Laenor and Jacaerys let the man pass who walked doubtfully into the room,where Princess Rhaenyra with the baby in her arms and a very tired Lucerys Velaryon lying on his bed were waiting for them.

– Kepa…

His heart squeezed at the pale face, tears in his eyes and sweat on his forehead did not kill the happy smile of his little boy, Jacaerys almost ran to his beloved husband's side, kissing his hand and hugging him gently as he sat on the bed at his side.

– A boy,I heard,the gods have blessed us,son.

– Not during childbirth – Lucerys laughed without enthusiasm – Do you want to hold him?

- Can?

– Muña.

He called, Rhaenyra approached and could see that she also cried, she smiled at him, who with trembling hands that took the baby gently, he felt his eyes fill with tears...he looked so much like his Lucerys when he was born, the little baby looked at him with his eyes big eyes and his small hand was trying to grab a lock of his dreadlocks.

– Oh, Joffrey really likes you, Kepa.

What? He hear correctly...the baby's name?

– Joffrey? – A lump formed in his throat, upon hearing that name after so many years – Did you name him, Joffrey?

His two sons smiled at him, giving each other a knowing look.

– I remember the stories you told us as children and about the great knight Ser Joffrey, it is a shame that we could not meet him, I thought it would be an honor to our father's great friend, right?

They knew they were more than his friend, they knew it, what it was for Laenor, the man's eyes returned to the baby who was still trying to grab his hair.

– What a fine king you are going to be make the future – he cooed at the baby in his arms – also a great knight with good training from our commander, right, Ser Harwin?

The entire time he was silently observing the family, not daring to say a word, it was not his time and place with both princes, not anymore.

– If my princes allow me – he gave a small bow – it will be an honor for me to train our future king.

Both Jace and Luke gave the commander a big smile.

They knew,it was impossible for that gossip not to reach them,but it didn't matter,Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor were they’re parents,Jacaerys and Lucerys were Velaryon,THEY ARE HIS CHILDREN,is what the man tells himself.

– Do you wish to hold Joffrey, Ser Harwin?

Jace's offer startles the commander, who looks at the spouses and Laenor who has Joffrey in her arms.

– Could? – He answers with another question especially for Lucerys, who nods slowly without erasing his smile – Ser Laenor.

Like him, Harwin has trembling hands, it's been a while since they've held a baby, the practice has been lost, they can see it in the way he lulls the baby, he looks happy.

– Without a doubt he looks like both, especially Prince Lucerys – he comments making both princes laugh more than happily – you will be a great king, Prince Joffrey.

They are happy, the 6 of them in their own little world, with all the attention on the little baby who keeps trying to grab Ser Harwin Strong's hair now after trying with Rhaenyra and Leanor, with anyone who crosses his little gaze.

#lucerys velaryon #jaceluke #jacaerys targaryen #Joffrey is the firstborn of JaceLuke #laenor velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #harwin strong #small happy family

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climbthemountain2020 · 1 month

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Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 11

Part 11/18 | Ao3

Thanks as always to my babies @witch-and-her-witcher and @cauldronblssd

Feyre was lost in thought looking at a tapestry in a shop’s front window, the vibrant colors blending and melting together like paint rather than woven strands. She wondered how it would feel under her fingers, how the threads might move or shift beneath her touch. It depicted a night sky amongst tall columns of clouds, the moon and stars nestled in between and an ethereal glow lining the edges. It was filled with deep navy and purple tones, but it also had the bright highlights of periwinkle and lavender. It was a masterpiece, and she couldn’t help but think of Rhys, as she had been for days.

Feyre’s thoughts had been a jumbled mess since her discovery more than a week ago. Rhys–her Rhys–was the illustrious, nefarious High Lord of the Night Court. It was almost laughable to think about–more so that she’d missed so many signs. She’d spent the last months scared of this male she only knew of through stories while pining for her strong, soft, sweet Rhys. She’d saved the Lord of Nightmares’ book for last because of the lack of chance she thought she’d had to encounter him. And yet, there he’d been, those violet eyes so poorly captured in the magical book, lacking their mischief and joy and love. The galaxies shone in his eyes when she’d stood face to face with him, and no book, magical or not, could ever hold a candle to that.

“I can see you outside, somewhere beneath the stars with a clear view of the sky,” he’d said to her the night they met. Cad. She nearly laughed now at the ridiculousness of it all.

She’d tried over the course of the last few days to remember what she knew for certain, having unfolded and refolded those pieces of paper with everything she knew about him until the creases became worn and fragile.

Rhys was beneath the mountain and had been for the better part of fifty years.

Rhys had somehow snuck into the human lands and attended her family’s masquerade ball, meeting her and changing the course of both of their lives.

Rhys’s presence that night had a domino effect, causing her to get to know Vincent, then meet Vilja, then Lucien and Tamlin and Calla.

She had somehow repeatedly met Rhys in her dreams since then and fallen in love with him there. If she’d been uncertain before, the last week had convinced her. How else could she have reconciled him with the terrifying Lord of Night and not run screaming?

She’d looked at that picture more times now than she could count, and yet, she could not find it anywhere within herself to feel any ounce of fear towards him, to what he was. Other than the fact that she knew the truth now, she’d shocked herself to find that absolutely nothing had changed. She would still do everything in her power to get Calla to break the curse. And if she couldn’t, Feyre knew she would be going Under the Mountain, every bit of her heart and soul ready to free him, even if he was the High Lord of Nightmares.

“-eyre!” She jumped. Calla was waving a hand in front of her face, and Feyre looked down to where her fingers were absently stroking the glass of the store that held the tapestry.

“You’ve been so lost in your head lately. What is going on?” Calla hadn’t been around quite as much since Calanmai, but Feyre couldn’t find it in her to be upset. It meant she was spending more time with Tamlin, and every single day counted. Feyre spent most of her time now with Lucien, the training becoming nearly second nature. She was still not as proficient as she’d like to be, either with her strength or with her magic, but she reminded herself often that the improvements she was making were all steps towards her final goal.

He had asked her the previous week if she’d ever tried winnowing, and they’d practiced to disastrously frustrating results. She couldn’t summon even the smallest bit of her magic towards it, making her more and more irritated and finally culminating in Lucien insisting that they stop for the day.

She’d tried twice since and still nothing.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” It was her go-to excuse these days. She wasn’t ready to tell any of them what she’d learned–she wasn’t sure she ever would be. If she loved Rhys, if it was meant to be, and the people she considered her family hated him, where would that leave her?

“You’ve been tired a lot lately. Is everything alright?” She nodded, faking a smile to Calla and stepping back from the window.

Today, Calla and Feyre had wandered into the nearest town, only about a twenty minute walk away from the manor. Feyre had badly needed a distraction to keep her mind from wandering in circles, and Calla had offered to join. It was a beautiful town, thriving and busy, and Feyre had filled a bag with fresh treats and apples from the market, as well as some small tins of paint and canvas.

Feyre forced a laugh. “Lucien must be losing his edge in training. I’ll need to rib him about it.” Calla looked unconvinced, but nodded anyway.

“You ready to head back?”

Feyre nodded, tucking her bag into the crook of her arm and turning from the store. Feyre was ready to get home. Another nightfall meant another chance to see him. She hadn’t managed to dream of him–or otherwise–since Calanmai. Truly, she didn’t want to dream of him anymore, or whatever was happening. She wanted to be back in his arms for good. She wanted to feel him the way she had before, his skin against her skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. She longed for it in a way she’d never longed for anything in her life–a bone-deep need that ached through her every time she thought about it.

Lucien had noticed her distance too, noting it not just in their training but her general demeanor. She had tried to distract where she could, shifting the conversation to Tamlin and Calla, which usually seemed to be enough. Their new and tentative physical relationship was a big difference in the day-to-day happenings of the manor. Of course, barbs were still being thrown, but there were also covert touches being passed back and forth that neither Feyre nor Lucien failed to note. It was hard not to be giddy about the possibility unfolding before their very eyes, but Feyre stringently tamped it down, refusing to get her hopes up too high.

After the second night of Calanmai celebrations, Lucien and Feyre hadn’t said a word when Calla had joined them for drinks on the back porch, and they had elbowed each other and giggled like school children when neither Calla nor Tamlin showed up the following night, congratulating each other on their scheming successes.

Calla, of course, refused to talk about it, but Feyre found it endearing that she would blush any time it was brought up.

And she did bring it up as often as she could. “So…have you guys, you know…” She turned to Calla and wiggled her eyebrows while Calla turned ten shades of scarlet, filling the time while they walked back to the manor.

“Feyre.”

“What? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“You mean you and Lucien want to know. Busybodies.” She stuck her tongue out at Feyre, who laughed.

“This is what friends do–talk about things.”

“Oh, is it? Or are you just nosey?”

“Why can't both of these things be true?”

Calla shoved her playfully, but relented. “Okay, yes, maybe we have…been physical–”

In the distance, the thundering of hooves startled them out of the conversation.

Cresting over the hill coming from the direction of the manor were Lucien and Tamlin on horseback, clouds of dust flaring furiously up from the road in their wake as they galloped near violently towards the women. Even from this distance, Feyre could tell something was very, very wrong.

As they neared, Feyre could see they weren’t slowing down. She turned quickly to Calla.

“Hold your arms out and get ready to jump.” Calla looked panicked, but followed her directions, and the two males were suddenly upon them, sweeping them onto horseback without even breaking stride.

“What happened?” Feyre yelled over the sound as she gripped Lucien, the two horses making a wide turn to race back in the direction of the manor.

“There's been an incident. We had to make sure you were safe,” Tamlin yelled across the space between them.

“What incident?” Calla pried, her eyes squinted from the harsh speed of the air hitting her face.

But Tamlin stayed silent while all manner of things whizzed through Feyre’s mind, her heart racing as she began to panic.

What had happened? What had Tamlin seen that he didn’t want them to know?

Suddenly, she found herself seeing the same road but from somewhere else–someone else’s eyes. Then she was pulled violently backwards into a different place, the dining room. It was different, though, as though she was viewing it all from the head of the table, from Tamlin’s seat. She could feel emotions that were not her own: possession, anger, fear.

She could see Lucien in his seat, back as stiff as a rail as he looked towards the doors. Her chair and Calla’s were empty, but the males were wearing the same outfits that they currently had on. She was seeing the lunch they'd missed while in town.

She had unintentionally slipped into Tamlin’s mind.

Her eyes–Tamlin’s eyes–focused, and saw a figure parading into the manor of Spring where they ate every day.

It was Rhys. He was there, the same beautiful male her heart beat for, just as he’d appeared that first night at the ball. He was dressed in his fancier clothes–he’d been much more casual in their dream visits. His hair was lovely, pushed back off his face, the lights from above illuminating his cheekbones and feral smile.The air about him was different, cocky, toying as he paced around the table like a predator cornering prey. It wasn’t in the teasing, coaxing way that he’d done it that night at the masquerade, though. This was a dangerous fae male in front of her here, and Tamlin’s anxiety and anger at his presence had Feyre feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She couldn’t hear the words he spoke in the memory, muffled like they were being spoken underwater, but she could feel the wavering emotions in Tamlin, see the clench of Lucien’s jaw and angry retorts as Rhys baited them, his smirk getting rise after rise out of them.

But then Rhys suddenly stopped prowling, his entire body language changing, seizing up and freezing like he’d been forcibly stopped by something. He gripped the back of the chair in front of him–Feyre's chair, empty since she and Calla had been in town, and all the sound came through at once.

“Who sits here?” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent held a promise of violence, the words spoken through a suddenly clenched jaw.

Tamlin and Lucien had remained silent.

“Who sits here?” His fingers tightened, cracking the polished hardwood that made up the back of the chair. “I can smell her. Now tell me, who sits here?” He smiled, but there was no mirth in it, only a threat.

“A human girl. She was here, but she’s gone.” The words came out of Feyre, but it was Tamlin’s voice she heard.

“Gone?”

His face was the picture of cool nonchalance, regality rippling off him in waves. But Feyre could see his eyes were wild, that normal calm and polished demeanor gone in favor of something near-crazed.

“She was a human girl. We brought her here for the treaty, but she was miserable. She could never have loved me. So, I sent her home.” Tamlin’s voice was powerful too, and Feyre’s mind shook with the command in it.

Rhys snarled, shoving forward and seething as he got into Tamlin’s face.

“Where. Is. She?” He punctuated each word with the gnashing of teeth. Feyre knew she should be afraid, knew that someone with his sort of power could rip straight through her and that her instincts should be screaming at her to run. But the red hot sensation curling in her lower belly at the thought that all this stemmed from him scenting her wasn’t born of fear.

Suddenly, she was ripped from Tamlin’s mind, the memory spiraling away into nothing. They were stopped in the yard, Calla and Lucien already dismounting the horses, but Tamlin was staring straight at her, his expression as shocked and bewildered as she felt.

Lucien pulled Feyre down from the horse by the waist, already trying to push her back towards the manor. Tamlin broke his intense stare to tell Calla to go with them while he resurrected the wards. Feyre could see it now, if she focused, the bright strings absolutely in shambles near the forest edge.

He'd come in right there. He'd been here. And she'd missed him.

Something sour and crestfallen twisted in her chest. She was barely able to walk as she stumbled up the steps.

“What is going on?” Calla demanded while stomping her foot like a child. Lucien tried to keep ushering them in, but Feyre had stopped to watch Tamlin reweave the wards.

“Someone was here, and we need to get you somewhere safe. Keep going.”

But Feyre remained on the manor’s steps, listening to Lucien and a protesting Calla disappear into the house.

She could smell him. She could smell him here in the breeze, the scent lingering. She felt like her heart was breaking.

She'd spent all this time keeping him from here. But he'd finally come; he’d found her anyway. And he'd missed her, and now all she wanted to do was cry.

She lost track of Tamlin, jolting when his hand touched her shoulder, eyes both wary and full of concern. She wondered what it was he saw on her face. He knew now, at least about her daemati powers. He’d felt her there, and there was no use denying it.

“What did you tell him?”

“That we’d had a human girl here that we’d sent away. I gave the name of a girl that Calla had spoken about from her village. Clare Beddor. It seemed to be enough to get him to leave.”

Feyre nodded. “Will he return?” The hope in her voice felt badly disguised.

“I don't know.”

She thought of the memory, the way that Rhys had seemed so different, so intentionally frightening. She still couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. It was as easy as breathing to see that mask he wore, as obviously as the one from the night of the ball.

Was this what Vilja had been trying to tell her about things not being as they appeared? Had she assumed Feyre would see him, see the role he had to play and find him lacking? Too twisted and wrong for her?

The lack of faith punched the air from her lungs, and the longing and sadness and heartache swam roughly within her. She knew his heart, the steady beating of it as familiar as her own, it seemed. She could see him, all of him, and she found it still didn't perturb her at all. In fact, all she could think about now was how much she ached to see him here in Spring, standing in front of her and not at all a dream. She didn’t care about how mad he’d be, consequences be damned.

“Come, Feyre. Let's get inside.”

Lucien and Calla were arguing when they entered, Feyre feeling like an outsider in her own body as she dragged herself through the doors and into the foyer.

“Calla, go to your room and pack.” Tamlin’s voice was soft, but the command in it was clear.

“Pack? But I'm not leaving–”

“Go.”

“No, I–”

“GO,” he bellowed, startling Feyre out of her daze. “I will not risk you. You'll leave tomorrow. I'll come to discuss with you in a bit.”

Calla went to object again, but Feyre's haunted eyes met hers and the words seemed to die in Calla’s throat. She turned on her heel and made her way up the stairs to her room.

The smell of Rhys was stronger here in the foyer, the citrus scent burning her eyes with unshed tears.

He was here. And she’d missed him.

She couldn’t make herself think of anything else. She felt a single tear drip down her face, hot as it carved its way to her neck. What was wrong with her? This had been what she'd fought for

Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Feyre. We will keep you safe.” He’d misunderstood her tears, thinking she was scared of the intruder they’d had, not that her heart was breaking in two at the thought of him coming and going without her.

But Tamlin stood across the foyer, emerald eyes focused through his mask on Feyre and Feyre alone.

She took a deep breath. No more lies.

“It’s time we talk.”

She made for the back porch, to the seats she’d come to know so well, the place of comfort with those she cared for the most.

“Please don't hate me.” She sighed as they all sat. “Actually, you probably should hate me. I’ll understand if you do. Just agree to hear me out first.” They looked at her skeptically, but Tamlin spoke first.

“You have powers.”

“Yes.”

“More than fire?” Lucien added.

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

Feyre swallowed hard. “All of them?” Lucien looked lost, but Tamlin seemed skeptical more than anything, his brow furrowed over his eyes as they looked at the arm band she wore and never took off. He’d given it to her because he cared about her; he wanted her to be able to protect herself. She could almost see him wondering if she’d done it to make a fool of him.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Human.”

“You're not half fae?” Lucien seemed genuinely surprised.

“I'm not. I'm a human girl, and I made a bargain.” She lifted her sleeve and let the glamour drop, the three stars shining darkly against her freckled skin. Lucien and Tamlin exchanged a look. “I think it's best I start from the beginning.”

So she did. She told them about the ball, the dreams, about Vincent. The ache in her heart when she thought about the months away from him was palpable, and she hoped he was doing well.

She told them about how she'd wandered into the woods at his prompting, finding the fae female she now knew was Vilja, to which Tamlin’s eyes shot to hers.

“She's okay?”

“Oh yes, gave me quite a run for my money, in fact.”

He laughed a little wetly, looking away. “She'll do that.”

“But she's fine, Tamlin. Very cozy in her cabin of lovely trinkets, and well protected in the woods, and very pushy. She made a deal with me that she would give me the powers of the High Lords, allow me to cross into Prythian, and to help. She told me that I had a part to play in helping stop her, and that if I could get my fae male to love me, openly and without pretense, then I could become immortal and stay forever.”

The silence seemed to stretch for ages, even though Lucien had already gotten an inkling of the story. She’d wondered how much he’d shared with Tamlin.

“So, it isn't your father you seek then?” Tamlin asked, piecing his information together.

“No, it is not.”

“But your betrothed is ...trapped there?” So Lucien hadn't told him about their conversation. She had a brief flare of gratitude to him for keeping her secrets.

“He is.”

“And you are going to help with everything, in hopes of what?”

She went to speak, but in anticipation of the coming words, her throat twisted–the hold on all of them prevented her yet again from speaking plainly. Feyre grunted as she rolled her eyes. “I am so sick of this. Yes. I am here to help. I'm still not sure if the intent was that I was simply to lead Calla to love Tamlin, or if there's something more to it. Vilja couldn't tell me much either, and Vincent didn't know more specifics. As soon as I passed into Spring, I lost the ability to discuss it, too.”

Both males sat in stunned silence, Lucien leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair.

“Does Calla know?” Feyre shook her head.

“Have you been in our heads?” Lucien asked, his voice more wary than it had been.

“I slipped into Calla’s once accidentally, then Tamlin’s today. Another accident. I've been teaching myself how to control the powers, but some of them I clearly still don't have a good hold on. I'm so sorry I lied to you both.”

Tamlins eyed her. “Why did you?”

“Vilja warned me to play my role. And I was scared. Then I grew to care for you both, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a real home somewhere.”

Lucien's eyes softened at that. “The friendship wasn't a lie then?” The question was so abruptly vulnerable that it stole Feyre’s breath away.

“No! Gods, no. It's what kept me from telling you for so long. I understand if you don't want me here, but please know I felt it was the only way. I never intended to hurt either of you.”

They exchanged another glance with each other, then Lucien spoke.

“Truly, we only kept you here so willingly at first because we thought you'd be good bait if we ever caught a human woman with the treaty.” She caught a glint of mischief in Lucien's eye, the relief hitting her so squarely that she thought she might sob. “And then we realized we didn’t mind having you around.”

“So you aren't mad?” She was scared to hope. Could she tell them everything and still keep them in her life? They seemed okay with things so far. Would that change when she told them exactly who her intended was?

“We can move past it,” Lucien readily supplied with a smile, but Tamlin held her gaze.

“There's something else, isn't there?” He’d seen the way she reacted in his mind about Rhys. Seen how she’d cried on the steps. There was no way he didn't know, and there was no more time for secrets anyway.

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

“What is it?”

“I didn't realize until recently, until I was reading the books on the courts. I knew his name but I didn't….”

Tamlin’s eyes found hers, and it was like he knew before she even opened her mouth. “No.”

“No, what?” Lucien looked between them, clearly having missed something.

“The ring around your neck. I thought I'd seen it before…” Tamlin spoke, his eyes faraway. Lucien, clearly having never noticed it, peered at her chest while she scoffed.

“Hey, eyes up–”

“It's Rhysand, isn't it? He lost his mind here because he could smell you.” Feyre nodded, feeling as though she’d possibly just wrecked the only family she’d ever truly chosen for herself.

“He isn't what you think he is,” she supplied before he could say anything else, trying to minimize the blow of the information she’d just dropped on them.

“My family is dead because of him, Feyre.”

“And his because of you, right?” There was no bite to her words, no venom, and she spoke then softly, but she may as well have punched Tamlin in the face for the way he looked at her. Hurt, then betrayal, then rage crossed his face in the flash of a second. She tried to explain, but Tamlin was already shifting with an inhuman roar, the great beast unleashing and tearing off across the steps of the manor and to the woods.

Feyre and Lucien let the silence sit between them for a few minutes.

“If what you say is true then he's a convincing actor.” Lucien didn’t bother hiding the distaste in his voice, refusing to even look at Feyre as he spoke.

Her emotions were warring. The need to defend Rhys was roaring within her, a writhing, unfamiliar thing that felt like she’d swallowed a beast. But the ache of Lucien treating her so coldly when she’d come to care for him so much easily tempered the edges off her fury. She knew she deserved this for keeping the truth from them, but it hurt.

“What if he has to be? You're the only ones not….there…right? If he's been there for fifty years? Can you imagine what he's had to sacrifice?” Lucien looked at her incredulously.

“Do you know anything about him?” He stood up to walk back inside, clearly angry and frustrated and done with the conversation.

She thought about it. Did she? The amount of time they'd actually spent together was laughably small. Perhaps she didn't know him as well as she'd thought. Gods, what if she'd made a mistake?

But that feeling inside her, that glowing well where her magic rested within her chest seemed to vibrate even at the suggestion. Her very instincts roared in offense that she'd even suggest such a thing.

No. She did know Rhys. She couldn’t explain it, but she was sure she knew him better, arguably, than anyone else. Somehow, she saw the parts of him that he did not allow others. She felt it when their magic tugged and pulled and wanted to play together. She was his, but he was hers, too.

“Just consider, Lucien, that maybe you don't know the real him.” Lucien scoffed, dismissing her, and that beast within roared again. She leashed it with all the willpower that she had. He didn’t look back at her, his focus squarely on the house in front of him.

“They call him her whore, you know.” It was the cruelest and coldest she’d ever heard his voice. A barb meant to harm.

All the blood in Feyre's veins slammed to a halt, the air whooshing from her lungs.

She couldn’t stop her breathless “What?” and Lucien laughed mirthlessly.

“They call him her whore. When he is in her court, he is warming her bed. He's doing her bidding.”

No sounds came from Feyre. There were no words for Lucien on her tongue. He kept his back turned to her, only turning his head slightly to look coldly back at her.

“I just thought you should know that.”

The words tore through her, and she remembered the pain and aching on Rhys’s face. The bone deep exhaustion was so clear and obvious to her, and the heartbreak she felt at knowing what he endured there was enough to bring a sharp burn of tears back to her eyes. Not for herself, for this new information, but for Rhys. For the pain and suffering he had been through–was still going through.

In my current home, I am unable to make any propositions, and it would kill me to make you a promise I couldn’t fulfill. You deserve more than that. More than me.

She remembered the way he’d said the words that night, the way he’d openly dropped that mask of cocky confidence for the first time. She remembered how shocked he’d seemed when she offered to wait, not just for marriage, but for him.

She was certain that if he was prostrating himself to that evil woman that there was a reason–something that he was sacrificing for. Had anyone ever sacrificed for him?

“He isn't some demon, Lucien. He could have taken me if he was. He'd never hurt me.” Lucien did not respond. “Consider that he might need saving just as much as everyone else.” Her words were soft, no bite left in them past what she hoped was the appeal of her honest belief.

Lucien didn't speak or turn, he simply walked back inside and closed the door behind him.

+++

Feyre sat curled in the deck chair for what felt like hours, watching the sun sink and the colors change in the sky. When the stars began to come to life, she saw Tamlin appear on the forest edge, walking back to the house in his human form. He looked ruffled, haggard, his clothes torn and his hair windswept and full of brambles. He didn't stop to sit with her, and she didn't ask him to, but as he passed she spoke.

“I'm sorry.” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes trained on the distant horizon, the words not being ones that had ever come easily to her. She hated admitting she was wrong. She’d usually fight tooth and nail to place blame elsewhere at every opportunity, but she knew she’d been the one in the wrong here. She’d lied, hidden the truth from her friends, and they both had absolutely every right to be furious with her. They would be well within reason to tell her to leave.

He stopped next to her, a deep sigh wringing out of his lungs.

“I don't know what to tell you, Feyre.” His voice was hoarse, and she winced wondering if it was from roaring his dissent towards the skies.

“Lucien told me plenty.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice, even if she deserved it.

She’d been sitting here for hours trying not to dwell on what manner of horrors Rhys had experienced in the last fifty years, why he'd looked so emotional when she’d told him she would wait. He likely thought he’d never be free–likely knew the promise he made to her would never come to fruition. She’d die a human before he ever saw freedom again. She rubbed her eyes.

“He is...he's not good, Feyre. You are smart and strong and stubborn and many things, but mostly you are good.”

She still didn't meet his eyes, not sure where her warring emotions would take her if she did. She knew nothing she said would erase the history between the males; nothing she could tell him would make Tamlin feel any less for him.

“He's good, too. I know he is.”

He didn't speak, but he didn't move either. She wasn't sure if he was looking for the words or deciding if he should say them. She beat him to it.

“Do you love her, Tam?” She could see his shoulders release a bit, his whole body deflating as he sank to sit on the arm of the chair next to hers.

“No,” he said finally. “I could, one day, maybe. I care for her, even when she grates against my nerves. But no.” She did look at him then, and she was struck by how incredibly sad he looked. “Heart of stone, remember?” He thunked a broad hand over his chest, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared. They’d joked about it before, but something in his eyes felt serious this time.

“Then what would be the point?” Feyre shifted in her chair to watch him while he answered. After everything, he deserved her full attention, at least.

He closed his eyes, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “She only has to love me. That’s the bargain. Bargain’s are tricky things–all about the wording.”

She nodded. Holding the silence for a few moments as the crickets and cicadas’ swelling song filled the air around them.

“I’m not asking you to storm her court and save him yourself. I'm not even asking you to forgive him for your past. All I am asking is you both try to remember we've all had to make choices and sacrifices. I'm only asking you to remember things aren't always what they seem. For me.” She stroked that leather band on her wrist again, wondering if they’d ever have that level of trust, of friendship, between them again, and her heart twisted.

Tamlin sighed again, but nodded, looking back out over the woods.

Feyre rose, the creaking in her too-still joints audible in her ears, and left Tamlin sitting out on the porch alone.

+++

When she got back to her room, Calla was already there sitting on the bed.

“They’re sending me home.” Feyre was exhausted, the hope actively dying in her chest like a death knell. But deep down, she knew they couldn't depend on Calla like some sort of sacrificial lamb. She was a human, another person Feyre had come to care for. If there was no chance of her breaking the curse, keeping her here risked her life. She was brash at times, but Feyre had warmed to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if this was how her own older sisters might have seen her too.

“It’s for your safety, Calla.”

“I don’t want to go back.” Feyre came and sat next to her on the bed. Calla’s face was streaked with drying tears. Feyre was looking at their last hope for salvation–the only one who could break the curse and free everyone from Amarantha. Keep them from having to bring themselves under the mountain and making Feyre find another way to use her limited powers against the female who had captured every high lord. She tried not to react, but that panic was rising in her chest again. How would she ever manage such a thing?

She felt as though she were losing hope, plummeting to her imminent death with nothing left to stop it.

Maybe it wasn’t too late. She needed Calla to love him. She needed to keep that hope alive.

“Do you love him?”

Calla’s eyes looked tired and guilty. “I don't know.”

Feyre didn’t respond right away. Her brain and emotions were warring and she felt as though she were being torn in too. Was it selfish to want that chance? Was it testing fate to push it, even when her empathy begged her to let Calla go? It truly was too much pressure to place on Calla, too much to ask, especially when Tamlin didn’t even feel the same. How could they expect all this of her?

“What is it like?” The question shocked Feyre and left her unsure of how to respond.

What was it like? As cliche as it sounded, what she had with Rhys felt like more; it had since the beginning.

“Well, it’s hard to describe. When I think of him, I am excited for the future. It doesn’t feel so open and frightening. It seems thrilling–the promise of things to come with him.” She paused, remembering that list of all she knew and loved about him. “He consumes my thoughts, but in a way that brings light to my days. I ache to know every single thing about him; I feel hopeful about spending the rest of my life doing so. Every single day, he is my first thought in the morning and my last at night. The feelings that I have for him are so overwhelming and wonderful that sometimes they don’t even feel like my own–like I can’t even keep track because everything I feel for him, I feel so deeply. It all caught me off guard.” She chuckled a bit. “I know it sounds silly–” She stopped short, turning back to Calla and finding tears rolling down her face and an awestruck look in her eyes.

She shook her head sadly, a rueful smile on her lips. “Then, no. I do not love Tamlin.”

This had not been Feyre’s aim. She had gone too far and it had produced the opposite effect.

“Calla, it’s not the same for everyone…”

“I might, one day. I could.” The same answer that Tamlin had given, and it somehow made this a million times worse. Had they found her sooner, had they had more time, it could have become more on its own. They could have broken the curse and found the love they deserved. How could they be so close, and still have fallen short? “But if they send me away I’ll never know.”

Feyre knew that If Tamlin had already made up his mind, there was no talking him into letting her stay.

“I am sorry. Calla.” Sorry for her, sorry for them, sorry for everyone who was losing this last chance before it had even begun. Calla got off the bed, wiping her tears with the back of her wrist and heading to the door.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Calla.”

That night, Feyre laid in bed alone, thinking about everything that had been said while she tested her magic halfheartedly. She took the ring off the chain around her neck and slipped it onto her ring finger. It was much too large, the ring meant for the hand of a male. She took it in her hands and willed her magic to shift it down, small enough to fit snugly on the finger meant for a betrothal an oath. It looked right there, the stone still reflecting the night sky, but smaller and more delicate now.

What would things look like when time ran out? When the curse wasn’t broken? Would Tamlin and Lucien be summoned under the mountain? Killed? What would become of Rhys, forced to warm that nightmare's bed to keep people safe?

They were sending their singular last hope away. Should she go, too?

She couldn’t; the thought didn’t even last a moment.

She wouldn’t abandon Rhys, or Lucien or Tamlin for that matter, not after she’d come here and learned so much. She could never go back to that life she knew before; it wouldn’t be worth it.

She would stay here and go beneath the mountain with them when called, no matter what they’d say. She’d shapeshift into more fae features, find Rhys, and at least she would be with him if she were to die. They would get their time together, even if it would be miserably and unfairly cut short.

He’d be furious with her for what she’d done–for the risk she’d taken and failed at.

She crawled into bed that night feeling more miserable than she could remember, more hopeless than ever as she cradled the hand with the ring to her heart and fell into a fitful sleep.

+++

The dawn rose red as blood over the horizon the following day, the colors bleeding out into the sky like a portent of things to come. Tamlin had been called to the border again early that morning and was still gone, allowing Calla another day at the manor before they sent her home for good. The mood was dour, Calla refusing to leave her room for almost the entire day, Lucien holed up in his study, and Feyre left to her own devices to wallow about her next steps.

She skipped breakfast, still not sure she wanted to see anything, and brought the rest of the court books back to the library. She spent the whole morning there reading more about Rhys and his family until her tired eyes blurred.

Things were tense with Lucien at lunch when she finally risked her presence, but Feyre pushed the last apple tart towards him wordlessly at the end. Her heart warmed when she saw a small smirk twitch on his lips, though he still hadn’t spoken to her, and he did not join her on the porch as the afternoon sun sunk down into the trees.

When evening fell and Tamlin returned, Feyre pretended to not see Calla waiting for him at the stairs, going up with him and taking the hallway to his rooms instead of hers. The hope may be dead, but Feyre supposed there was no reason they couldn’t at least enjoy the small feelings they’d let bloom for one another before they said goodbye.

When Feyre finally slept, she woke quietly with a presence at her back. It wasn’t a harsh awareness like when they’d slammed together the last time, but a peaceful, slow awakening, his hand drawing circles down her side, pulling goosebumps from her flesh in the comfort of a dim room. She could see a massive set of windows, but they weren’t on the open mountaintop palace where she usually saw him. She could see a river in the low light outside, winding slowly through what appeared to be a city. They were surrounded by mountains whose peaks danced amongst the stars, the view breathtaking even from below. The silk sheets were smooth beneath her naked body and the comfort of the room thrummed notably in around her while his mouth found her neck and pressed a kiss to it. She couldn’t explain it, but this felt like home.

She turned to face him, his exquisite, lovely eyes taking her in. He looked ruffled by sleep, hair tousled and eyes hooded–a small smile on his face as he looked at her. She supposed there was no point pretending anymore.

“Where are you, Feyre?” His voice was rough with sleep, the deep tumble of it making her shiver.

“Rhys,” she whispered, her hands coming up to touch his face. “I know what you are, who you are, High Lord.” He pulled back as though he’d been hit with an arrow, a look of fear in his eyes and the terrifying press of his anxiety so deep and profound that Feyre could feel it in her own chest.

Feyre simply smiled, pressing a hand to his warm, bare chest. She could feel his heart hammering like a hummingbird beneath the skin.

“You do not scare me, Rhys. You never have, and you never will.”

The vulnerability and fear in his eyes was so palpable he might as well have told her himself what it was. She could see it in his eyes, she could feel it in her heart.

“Tell me you're not in Spring.” The words were soft but pleading, a last grasp at hope that he’d already all but lost.

“I'm not going to lie to you.”

He deflated, pretty eyes slipping closed as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Why did you come here, Feyre?” He pressed a kiss to her lips and she melted into it, the warmth of him encompassing her fully.

“I came for you. I will always come for you.”

Suddenly, his eyes shot open as he pulled back, only pure, untempered fear coursing through them now.

“Run. Feyre, wake up. You have to run.”

“What?” She was taken aback by the frantic tone of his pleading; it was so unlike him.

“RUN–”

Feyre shot awake at the sound of her door being slammed out, the light flooding the room as her nightmares came to life. She could hear yelling and screaming downstairs, large crashes of things breaking and Tamlin’s loud bellow through it all.

There in the darkness, horribly and grotesquely framed by the light of the hall, was the attor.

Her eyes adjusted to the light in time to see its horrific, cruel smile, the fangs even more terrifying when they were real.

“What a delicious surprise.”

Taglist: Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

@cauldronblssd @buttercupcookies-blog @witch-and-her-witcher @yeonalie

#feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #acotar #acotar fics #feyre and rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met #acotar au #fated mates #acotar retelling

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tmntartblock · 12 days

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TMNT LEOSAGI AU

FIND ME IN THE FUTURE

Chapter 3: The lost child, part 1

previous chapter

Leo couldn’t sleep. He was thinking all the possibilities, reconsidering every interaction with Usagi. Everything what he had said about himself, his world and their relationship.

The time before the last time, Usagi and Leo had had a long talk, sitting on a tree while looking at the sunset. Everything was peaceful at that exact moment. Leo had felt that everything was going to be okay. They saw each other less and less since Usagi was having harder time sneaking out. It was because the general’s had started to keep more eye on him and said that he had potential.

“I really wanna leave”, Usagi had said. “Come here and live with you. We could watch sunset together every day.”

“Why not? Is it such an impossible scenario?” Leo knew it was a stupid question but couldn’t help himself.

“Leonardo-chan...” They both knew the army would not let Usagi down easy. They hunted Usagi’s friend Gen years after he left. They did not let go of their citizens easy even if they had no interest in fighting.

“It’s not even about being on the run for the rest of my life”, Usagi said. “I… I have the responsibility to my Realm."

Even though Usagi didn't love the army, his Realm he talked about very dearly. Whenever Usagi described his planet, it sounded like the most beautiful place in the universe. The landscape varied from high, dangerous mountains to wide lands of field of blue crystals that the farmers cultivated from their land, mainly due to the government's orders.

"I… I promised to my mother to keep the realm safe from monsters who are trying to take what is ours.”

Usagi rarely mentioned his mother and the first time had been only few years ago. Usagi had never told to anyone else than Leo what had happened.

Usagi didn’t remember a lot from his childhood, only his mother and the wide field he used to run on with his wooden sword. They didn’t have a lot but the government support was enough for the two of them.

“The last thing I remember from my mom was that I… I yelled at her. She took away my sword and said not to use it anymore. I got so angry.” Usagi stared into abyss, into his own nightmares that had never really left him. No matter how much he tried to suffocate them. He never talked about his past, at least not like this.

“And you know what I did?” Usagi turned back to Leo, eyes filled with disgust to his younger self. “I ran. I thought I could make my own sword. But then the evening came and I got hungry so I went back home and… And the house was on fire. There were few army soldiers trying to put out the fire but it had spread too far.”

Usagi tried to swallow the tears that were forming in his eyes.

“I… I just stood there.”

“It’s not your fault”, Leo said but Usagi did not believe him.

“That’s when I met my current mentor, sensei Kuma. She was a third rank sergeant who trained soldiers but also took missions to countryside.

“This is what the enemies do to our realm”, she said. “They want these precious crystals and are willing to do anything to get them. Your mother gave her life for this realm.”

“Why you didn’t come earlier? You could’ve saved her!” I remember being so sad it turned to anger. I couldn’t fathom that my mother was inside those flames.

“We came here as soon as we could, little bunny. The real question is - why weren’t you here to protect your mother?”

Kuma made sure that I understood that the army was the reason I was still alive. She knew I didn’t want to join them but as an orphan I really had no choice - I belonged to the government. I owed my life to the Realm and I had to protect it at all cost. My mother would’ve wished it.

It made sense. Why else she would’ve give me that sword to practice, right?

We visited my mother’s grave only once. A new family had moved in the spot to take care of the crystal field. Parents with a kid who was running on the field without any worry in the world.

I promised there and then to my mother that I would honor her sacrifice.

You know, I was really angry. I hated everything about the army at the time. The strict rules, awful food, pretentious people who are there to kick your ass. Everybody saw me as a fragile and small bunny who could barely hold a real sword.”

“When I met you, everything changed. We had the field trip to Earth with our squad. It was my first - everything was so loud and big and terrifying. At the same time I was fascinated. For a few years that I had already been in the army, they had told me stories of different planets and civilizations and how they all were barbaric and just out to get us.

“This is Earth. Right now it doesn’t really pose a threat to us but it is developing fast”, our instructor had said. But I was not interested at all to just walk the dark and dirty streets. I wanted to see the people.”

“Of course I got lost.

And of course I lost the stupid portal necklace to get back to my realm.

That’s when I met you, Leonardo-chan”, Usagi’s smile widened. “It had started to rain and everything just looked the same. I was miserable and thought yeah, this is it, I’m gonna die now.

And then you showed up so concerned and I couldn’t understand your thick Earth accent.”

“I remember that”, Leo said, smiling at the memory. “And when I asked if you needed help and you just said to go away, bandana frog.”

“In my defense the Earth fauna is not that familiar to me.”

“Luckily I understood you called me a band dog.”

“How is that any better?”

“Made you seem more out of your mind so I didn’t take any offense”, Leo responded laughed. The memory was from years ago but it felt like yesterday.

“Damn your father was scary to meet”, Usagi said after some silence.

“He’s always been little hesitant with strangers.”

“Luckily master Splinter let me stay even though we didn’t quite understand each other first.”

“Yeah it took like couple of days. But honestly I don’t pay any attention to it anymore. You are easier to understand than Raph with that Brooklyn accent of his.”

Usagi laughed.

“After you finally understood my situation we started to search for that damn necklace.”

“It really felt like an impossible task. You had no idea where you had lost it.”

“It’s not my fault all the streets look the same! Just gray and full of trash. But damn I had fun.”

“Me too. We searched everywhere.”

“Not just the search. Those few weeks that I got to live with you has been one of the happiest periods of my life.”

“I’ve never had such a comfortable bed.

So much good food.

So many random bursts of sparring. So much playing.

And just have someone to talk and laugh with. I could talk about anything and everything. You always listened to me with all your attention and made me feel seen. Like a real friend that I never had.

To be honest, I didn’t want it to end.”

Usagi’s smile faded away.

“I remember how it felt like finding that necklace. First the excitement that quickly turned into sadness. I remember us thinking to keep it as a secret but I guess our sense of responsibility was already so strong at that age.

I had kind of hoped that master Splinter would let me stay even after finding the necklace but he was very eager to send me back home. He looked very concerned.”

"It was one of the hardest good byes ever", Leo admitted. "I thought I would never see you again."

To be continued...

/////Chapter 3 part 2 on 15th of September!

/////Hope you liked this little flashback down the memory lane :)

#it's for the character development okay #find me in the future au #2003 tmnt #tmnt fandom #tmnt #tmnt 03 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt fanart #tmnt iteration #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt art #tmnt leosagi #leosagi #tmnt au

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madlad-sadgal · 1 year

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I got bored again, so for the third time, here are random things I noticed throughout my rewatch of Nimona.

As always, Nimona Spoilers!

To start off, a few people pointed out how the first time Nimona shows up on screen, we see her doing a graffiti of the word dumb. Also, rewatching some of the scenes, in the scene where she shows the new murder wall, you can make out the word "Nemesis" written over Ambrosius' picture. Also, if you look at the very top of the wall, we can see a drawing of Bal's prosthetic with flames coming out of it with the words "Literal Firearm" written under it. So, I rethought it, and realized Gloreth was probably the first human Nimona had ever seen (as far as we know), so Gloreth probably taught her to speak, write and read, except this was a thousand years ago, and language constantly evolves, and we can all agree that "From whence you came" and "Nemesis" aren't really phrases or words people seem to use. So, I think Nimona probably has some knowledge when it comes to reading and writing, both thanks to Gloreth and just picking up bits and pieces throughout those 1000 years, but she still has trouble when it comes to full on writing actual long phrases to create like an essay or something like a resume.

When she pins back Am's picture on the wall, we see a post it with "Disrupt the System" written and highlighted on it.

We get a hint that Nimona might be "Gloreth's monster" when we see a drawing of her in dragon form that kinda resembles the dragon we see at the beginning in the scrolls.

When Bal calls Nim a monster, there is literally a newspaper cut out on the wall next to him with his picture and the word "Monster" written on it.

We get a bit of insight on the type of pressure Ambrosius suffers from when we get back to the Institute. All the other knights seem to think it's his fault for not having stopped Bal from escaping, despite a whole horde of knights chasing after him and not one of them even coming close to stopping him from escaping either. The other knights, despite probably not knowing the full extent of it, seem to be aware of the close relationship between the two of them, putting him under even more pressure because of that small fact.

When the Director stops the fight between Ambrosius and Todd, she tells them; "Look at you, acting like common children." Reminder that everyone is fully aware that Bal was a commoner and is currently suspected to having killed the queen. She is basically telling them; "Those people are very clearly below us and one of them is a murderer and a villain, and yet you are acting like them."

When Am volunteers to lead the manhunt for Bal, we can clearly see him go slightly worried for Bal as Todd is talking about how he'll make Bal pay. He probably volunteered because he wanted to lessen the chances of Bal getting hurt.

Like I mentioned in another post, Nimona often tries to get Bal to understand that the Institute is filled lies, but not by directly telling him. She starts by giving little hints. One example of him is when she tries to tell him that maybe there's nothing over the wall. I talk about it more in this post.

Nimona's little pink streak in her hair

Nimona is quick enough to go up an escalator that goes down, but a literal knight who has gone through harsh training isn't.

Todd knows that Am's hair smells like lavender. In flower language, lavender is associated with purity, silence, devotion, caution, serenity, grace and calmness. That sounds an awful lot like qualities the Institute would expect a direct descendant of Gloreth to posses, doesn't it?

I'll stop here, cause this is starting to get long.

Unrelated, but I decided to watch Nimona with my siblings (13, 7 and 5) and they all loved it. The best part for me was that my homophobic aunt watched the bit where Bal and Am kiss, started freaking out that I was pushing it onto them, and then my 13 years old brother just commented about how she kept forcing him to watch her romance movies with her and was always pushing him to "get a girlfriend for them to meet" and she just shut up and left. Just wanted to put that out there.

Might make another one of these if y'all like this!

#nimona #ballister boldheart #nimona movie #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #nimona 2023 #nimona netflix #nimona spoilers #I am obsessed with this movie #My hyperfixation has been going on for a while and does not seem anywhere close to ending

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labelleizzy · 2 months

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Today I tried to be kind.

Someone knocked on my door real loud, twice. I was in the bathroom. So I'm a bit grumpy. Open the door and a tall young woman is there, with her silkscreened polo shirt and laminated page binder. Like, teenager young.

I immediately think, collecting for something, possibly a cult or a scam. I hear her out. She needs $20 to fill her quota for the day, I can easily spare half that today, so I do.

She's all sweaty 🥵 and hot looking, so I offered her a bottled water, we have a few left in the pantry.

I do this because I remember my Spouse calling me out ten years ago for giving a couple of Mormon missionaries a wrong address for our house. I thought of it as a bit of a prank on obnoxious kids, he pointed out they're KIDS, left on their own to survive without support. They are being intentionally trained by the cult that outsiders cannot be trusted and won't help you.

And I also remembered that post here on Tumblr about the same thing. Being a data point of human kindness might help them out down the road.

I give her the $10 and the water bottle. She gives me a receipt. I thought it might be a situation similar to those Mormon boys, so we DO look it up after she left and that particular group IS marked down as a religious cult.

Wishing I had followed the impulse to give her the contact information for the YWCA, who provide aid for vulnerable folks in need.

Yes, it does cost something to be kind. I wish I'd done more. But thanks to my spouse and Tumblr, I did better this time than I once did.

#tumblr meta #tumblr memes #be kind #cult #my spouse #tumblr university #things i said #things i learned #izzy writes #that poor kid #*sigh*

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azuramarigold · 1 month

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A story focused on a young Yuji already harboring Sukuna as a vessel and it's up to teenage sorcerers of Tokyo Jujutsu High School to go and help him! Involves a parental Kento Nanami and Gojo with his usual antics.

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

Wasuke Itadori didn’t know how it came to this.

One day he tried to visit his son, Jin Itadori, and his grandson Yuji to find that the home was completely decimated. Furniture was overturned and ripped, tables were cracked in half, the kitchen sink was running and overflowing with water, and there was the lifeless body of his son in the middle of it all.

Wasuke knew that Jin’s wife, Kaori, was not right. His senses with Cursed Energy told him so. The woman had an abundance of it, and it felt tainted. Jin unfortunately didn’t have the same ability of Cursed Energy like Wasuke, so he was blinded by the “woman” that was before him.

Yuji… Where is Yuji…?

There was faint crying over the sound of the water in the kitchen. The old man rushed up the stairs so he could get to the small nursery that housed his grandson. Upstairs was just as wrecked - the master bedroom overturned, and sheets ripped to shreds. The guest bedroom looked as though a bomb had gone off.

Yet the nursery was untouched, the walls still a lovely shade of yellow with pictures of trains and animals plastered instead of scarlet splatters of blood. The radio played a soft piano melody to help soothe the child to slumber.

Yuji was lying in his crib, barely a year old, screaming at the top of his lungs. Wasuke darted for the crib and desperately grabbed for his only family left. He could tell that the boy was in distress, the Cursed Energy was light in the boy, but it fluctuated more like an object than person.

As soon as Yuji felt his grandfather’s presence, the crying seized, his red, chubby face is distress and his wide, brown eyes filled with tears.

“I got ya, Yuji…” Wasuke hugged Yuji close to his chest just as sirens were heard from outside, the ambulance and police arriving. Maybe one of the neighbors called?

Pictures were taken of the scene and Jin’s corpse was wheeled out on a stretcher. Wasuke’s chest painfully ached seeing his son in that state. All that man wanted was to be an amazing father to his own son… and someone, something, took it from him.

Wasuke was questioned as he arrived at the scene before anyone else. He explained his intentions - he hadn’t heard from his son in a few days, and he was concerned. He wanted to also check on his grandson.

“Do you know the location of Kaori Itadori?” a man asked, who was tall and broad shouldered. He wore sunglasses and had a goatee, his brown hair spiked up. Wasuke recognized the button that was on the man’s collar, the symbol from the Jujutsu world.

Shit… haven’t thought of them bastards in years.

“I do not,” Wasuke replied evenly. “I never liked that woman, she was always… off”

The man raised a brow. “‘Off’?” he repeated. “How so?”

Wasuke rather not get into full details on how he suspected she was a Jujutsu Sorcerer herself, despite talking to one in front of him. He didn’t want to reveal his cards that he could see curses and was once a student himself so many years ago.

“Call it an ‘Old Man’s Intuition’,” Wasuke informed. “I always felt like she was using my son and was obsessive of some kind of occult thing.”

There… that can tip them off about her while showing I don’t know anything about curses.

“I see,” the large man replied, writing in a small notepad.

“Mr. Yaga, we found some residuals!” a young woman called out to him.

“Excuse me,” Yaga excused himself with a bow.

They suspect a Cursed Spirit did this… and I do too… I just know that bitch has something to do with it as well.

The police informed Wasuke that as he was the next of kin to Yuji, he would be the first one available to take the baby in. Wasuke hadn’t raised a baby in over twenty years, and he had his wife still at that time as well. However, his grandson needed him, and he wasn’t going to refuse.

Yuji was placed back into Wasuke’s arms after someone in the ambulance looked him over, the baby as calm as a clam. His brown eyes were identical to Jin’s from when he was a baby, his cheeks chubby as well. Yuji cooed gently as Wasuke bounced him. The boy was wrapped in a blue blanket with a cartoon image of a tiger embroidered largely in the center.

The Cursed Energy from him… it shouldn’t be like this in an infant…

He was allowed to go home after another hour, and he was glad. Energy was drained from him. Not only did he have to plan his son’s funeral service, but he had to get everything for Yuji as well; Wasuke didn’t want any of the items in the home as he knew they were tainted with Cursed Energy, so now he had to buy new baby essentials, formula, and clothes for his grandson.

The night was long as Yuji cried, going through what little formula Wasuke had in the home from when Jin visited and brought the baby. The kid ate a lot – a lot more than a normal baby, and according to his pediatrician he couldn't find anything wrong, just that he ate more than normal; he wasn't overweight, and he had the right amount of baby fat on his face and body.

In the morning Yuji was crying as though he was being stabbed, his small eyes wide with terror. Wasuke had in him in a small bassinet next to him in his room, and he noticed that there was a Curse looming over the infant. The Curse looked almost human in shape, large bloodshot eyes, but it had multiple appendages with multiple mouths agape with sharp teeth.

“Miiiiiinnnnnneeeeeee….” The creature moaned.

Wasuke may not have exorcised a Curse in over thirty years, but he still had the basics. He knew this Curse that was terrifying his grandson was a lower grade – maybe a Grade 3 at best. He infused a defense knife he kept on his nightstand with Cursed Energy before he lunged across the bed, stabbing the creature at its side.

“GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” the Curse hissed, its mouths widened in pain and surprise before it crumpled to the ground, fizzling away like carbonation gas.

Yuji continued to cry, his face streaming with tears. Wasuke thought the kid was going to pop his head off at this point.

He lifted the baby out of his bassinet and held him close, feeling the Cursed Energy radiate from the boy.

Did he… attract that Curse…? Did he attract the one at the house too?

There was no way an infant should have this amount of Cursed Energy… If a person had the ability to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, the ability to see Curses developed at around the age of five. Genetic Cursed Techniques developed around the same time as well.

The city always had so many Curses, as Curses were born from humans. Large cities tend to have larger and more dangerous ones due to high levels of stress from the population. Wasuke decided to keep Yuji safe they would relocate to a village area where the Curses would be milder to handle.

Within a week Jin’s cremation was done and his small funeral service was done at the local cemetery. There were very few people as Jin wasn’t close to many work colleagues, and Wasuke along with Yuji were the only family. Yuji was none the wiser as he was asleep in a stroller, wearing a black onesie, soft snores coming from him.

Wasuke managed to arrange things at his current job to relocate to a town that was near Kyoto, a town called Ide. It was small and village-like, yet close enough to Kyoto within a couple hours where their Jujutsu Sorcerers could still be contacted in case anything goes wrong.

Yuji seemed to enjoy the new atmosphere, well, as much as an infant could notice. He babbled and took his first steps without a hitch. It tugged at Wasuke’s heart to see his grandson already growing up so fast and without his father.

The small-town life seemed to help them adjust very well, the Curses were very sparce, and Yuji barely noticed them. He would comment once or twice, saying something that looked odd, but he quickly thought they were some sort of imaginary friends. Wasuke exorcised them quickly without the boy noticing.

It seemed each year that Yuji grew older, the Cursed Energy that emitted from him grew too - and it was chaotic. A calamity that grew and begged to be let out.

When Yuji turned five years old, that was when the screaming started. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming at the top of his lungs saying, “how much it hurt” and to “please make it stop”.

Wasuke when the first time it happened, he nearly pulled out his Cursed Energy infused knife against his own grandson as he was sitting in the bed, crying and screaming his eyes out, no longer had the face of the little boy he was raising…

But he had the cursed marks, black and precise, against his face, his brown eyes now red, his canine teeth sharper than normal…

The King of Curses, Ryōmen Sukuna.

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archiveoftara · 7 months

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London Boy

Part 2

I found myself under a pile of bills. Utility bills, water bills, rent, things that needed to be paid but I don't even have a single penny to feed myself .

This small precious dream of mine is costing my life but I can't back out right now.

Six months ago I ran away from my toxic family, to make a living in London, to own a jewelry company but it didn't go as planned.

I banged my head on the table in frustration. What am I gonna do?

After a moment of contemplating my life, I begin to clean up the mess. Slowly picking up scattered papers when my eyes fell on an advert.

Lockwood and Co

The prestigious psychical agency requires a junior field operative and an assistant researcher. Duties will include on-site analysis of reported hauntings and the containment of same. The successful applicant will be SENSITIVE to supernatural phenomena, well-dressed, preferably female and not above fifteen years in age.

Unsuccessful applicants will include time-wasters, fraudsters and persons with criminal records. Apply in writing, together with a photograph, to 35 Portland Row, London W1.

I carefully folded the paper and rushed to my room.

33..34..ah 35. This must be place.

I check the advert again just to make sure I'm at the right place.

I fix my hair and clear my throat one more time before ringing the bell.

"Um hi-"

"Are you Arif's new girl?"

"....who's Arif?"

"Runs the corner store, usually sends someone over with donuts as you don't have any, you must be here for the interview."

I nod awkwardly. Not the best start I see

"Name?"

"Y/n y/l/n. Are you Mr. Lockwood?"

"Me? No." It seem like he is offended. "The last girl just went down but from the look of her, she won't take long."

I step inside the wide hallway, filled with artefacts, books and a chipped plant pot around the corner. This is where they keep their rapiers I guess.

"You win George. That was the last one."

"Then who's this?" The boy named George pointed at me as if I'm some alien. (and I took offense to that)

A boy with very bright, dark eyes and nice lopsided grin said "Hello, I'm Anthony Lockwood." I shook his hand and introduced myself.

"What's your talent?" Lockwood asked.

I gave a small smile "I don't have one."

For a minute I thought the time stopped. I tried to read their faces. I'm sure they're gonna kick me out.

"Well that's fine, we're looking for a researcher anyway and it doesn't need much talent, does it George?" He looked at the boy, sitting at the corner sofa.

He wiped his glasses on his t-shirt "I don't mind."

"Do you have any past experience?"

"Not really." I blushed. "But I am a fast learner, I will work hard. I really need this job."

"George will train you so don't worry." He clasped.

"This means..I got the job?"

"Yes. Welcome to Lockwood and Co"

My eyes shined like a diamond. "I'm not going to disappoint you sir, I desperately needed this job. I'll do anything, thank you so so much." I thanked them like my life depended on it and it kinda did. Lockwood and George exchanged a look (they were talking in some code word I can feel it.) It doesn't matter. I won't be here for too long.

It's been a few weeks since I've been working as a assistant researcher. We also have a new member, her name is Lucy Carlyle. She's really cool, we get along well. Lucy stays with them, they offered me accommodation, too but I refused, I still have a dream to chase.

The work is actually interesting but George makes it a bit difficult for me, he's a perfectionist. I don't blame him. I just try my best to live up to the standards.

It's the beginning of November, the nights are chilly lately. I've just finished some papers regarding the latest case.

"We should head back it's getting late." George looks at his watch.

"Hmm?" People already left the library, it was just me and him now.

I quickly stood up but felt dizzy. I felt an arm around my waist, I felt a pair of warm brown eyes on me. His mole is cute..has he always been this cute?

"Y/n you alright?" George holds my arm.

I clear my throat "yes. perfectly fine." I quickly gathered my books and walk as fast as I could. The moment I step out of the building I was welcomed by the chilly wind hitting my face. I stood for a moment, my back against the wall.

I feel so weird.

"Y/n, It's best we see a doctor." He frowned.

"I'm fine."

"You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, Let's see that." George scoffed.

"Why are you so mean George Karim?" I winced.

"You're being crazy. You clearly need help."

"George, I can manage."

"At least let me walk you home." He insisted.

"Nope." With that I make my way home little did I know what was waiting for me.

Maybe I should've been more polite. All he wanted was to help me but I'm a big girl I can manage. It's just a little fever. I slowly made my way to the neighborhood when I felt something strange. I feel nauseas, like something rotten is near me. I felt a heaviness on my chest, something was pulling me away. Soon I felt the cold hard ground, I tried to call for help but nothing came out of my mouth that's when I heard a sound of metal drawn.

"Are you alright?" He keenly looked at me.

"What happened?" I panted.

"You were ghostlocked. Please just let me walk you home we can argue later." He pulled me with him.

I think my dream is gonna end before it even starts.

Hello my dear readers, first chapter is done and dusted. Excuse my crappy writing. Hope you like the chapter. Do let me know your thoughts in the comment section. I love you!!!

Word count: 968

#fandom #lockwood and co #george cubbins #george karim x reader #george karim #35 portland row #reader x character #fanfic

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bfdreaming · 19 days

Text

TW for suicide mention, rape mention, medical abuse, violent ableism, death, and what can reasonably be interpreted as a murder attempt

A few years ago, a psychiatrist talked about me to my mom without my permission in order to lie outright about my diagnosis (said I didn't have the disability for which she was treating me) and advised her, unprompted, to drop me (someone she knew was disabled and unable to work but she was lying about it) off at a homeless shelter. Mom is and was well aware of both my actual condition and the fact that homeless shelters are nightmarish, and said, correctly, that I would either kill myself or get raped and then kill myself. (Actually I would probably hit up some old friends first, but if I really was completely out on my ass with nothing and nowhere to go? Yeah, I'd kill myself before the medicine even wore off because I would have absolutely no chance of surviving.) Mom got her meds filled and did not go back. She did not immediately inform me of this conversation.

Shortly thereafter was my own last appointment with her, during which I confessed I was suicidal. Now, I have admitted this to many health care professionals over the years, mostly because it's on the intake forms. The normal reaction is to check in about it, make sure I don't have plans, and confirm that I am recieving treatment. While I generally don't bring it up to others, I'm pretty sure the normal response from someone without medical training is probably horror and concern.

This woman? She fucking taunted me.

I told my mom after and said I wasn't going back, at which point mom revealed the conversation above and said she also wasn't going back.

It's hard to imagine what was going on in that woman's mind, but I don't think this is something that can be attributed to incompetence. This woman, after pushing me for a while to get a job despite my multiple, barely treated or entirely untreated debilitating disabilities that make employment completely impossible, wanted me dead and actively tried to achieve that result.

Neither of us had the energy to do anything besides not going back, though. We are and were both very ill, after all.

This was years ago. More than five, less than ten. I was only thinking about it again because my current psychiatrist (who is great) joined that monster's former practice (which sucks) a couple years ago. At the time, I looked up the monster and she had thankfully stopped practicing like a year or so after we stopped seeing her. (She also had tons of negative reviews, some of them begging people not to go to her. She had only practiced for a few years.)

Now, while I was there before, I didn't have any trouble with the office, but now it also has tons of negative reviews because they simply don't ever communicate or authorize refills unless you manage to personally get ahold of a human AND get them to do it while you are on the phone with them. So I was unmedicated earlier, and experiencing a really nasty withdrawal, and was generally a mess. Managed to get yet another emergency supply from a 24 hour pharmacy but it hasn't kicked in yet so trying to sleep did not go well. Got up again and googled the monster.

Found her obituary.

And I am not usually one to celebrate death. But once I confirmed it was indeed for the same person, I could only think, "Thank God."

Because she really fucking tried to kill me. I don't think I really fully processed that until now. She tried to kill me because demanding I simply do the things my disabilities prevent me from doing didn't yield results. She tried to kill me and I don't think I was the only one. This woman went through medical school and spent years of her life trying to kill disabled people for being disabled. If you could work, or had worked but were now retired, she'd refill your existing prescriptions and do absolutely nothing else. And apparently, if you couldn't work, she'd try to kill you in a way she would almost certainly get away with.

She can't hurt anyone else. I still can't work but I've never tried to kill anyone. Maybe I'm useless but at she chose to be worse than useless. And I outlived her.

("If you refuse to simply stop being disabled, you should die" Ok well have you tried simply not dying, doc? Oh it didn't work for you? Tragic)

#blahblahblah #suicide #medical abuse #disability #ableism #I lived bitch

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fallen-in-dreams · 10 months

Text

CHAPTER NINE on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 9,004.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Nine: Little Bits and Pieces of Lies. ...

.:.

When I heard that sound When the walls came down I was thinking about you About you

-- Skin, by Rag’n’Bone Man

.:.

The shift change was a few minutes late.

The guard sighed into the paper wrapping in his mouth, puffing out a few smoke clouds, trying and failing to form it into something recognisable. Last week, Yaeko had tried to show him how to make rings, but he wasn’t very good at it. Impatient, he looked back along the ridge of the tallest tower on Suna’s borders. The walls of his village were large and imposing above him. On ground level, he could still trail his eyes along the entrance where Yaeko was supposed to pop out of five minutes ago.

Bloody woman.

This was just a bad night overall. He had no idea how this particular kunoichi had ever made it as a genin, let alone her current rank of chunin. She was always late. She didn’t own a clock and slept like a log. He’d gone to wake her numerous times only to be kicked in the head, or somewhere more precious, as she startled into consciousness.

I shouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.

As a newly appointed Jounin, guard duty was supposed to be off his roster. But things had not been going according to plan for several years now. He ran a hand down the front of his flak jacket. There was just no getting used to how much more comfortable this uniform made him feel. The rank came with perks, including not having to do guard duty, but the village had been short-handed recently, with the increase in missions and training of more genin squads than usual. So, he’d volunteered. At least for a few shifts before his new team had been organised. There was nothing to do until then, anyway. Rumour had it, open war was upon them, and his specialty was in high demand, even in this Cold War.

He was a sensor.

This was why he felt it; a sudden spike of chakra that was barely there if you weren’t paying attention. He waved a hand sign to two nearby patrol guards, and they paused, also waiting to see what was going on. If it was another attack, they would be ready. The fires that had spread through their home had come from inside, but anything was possible.

All three guards tensed at the soft flash of light. A figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The newly appointed jounin sighed in relief as their visitor stepped into view. Just beyond the gate there was a blind spot of darkness at night-time that even moonlight couldn’t fill. If you never did guard duty, you’d never know it was there.

“Sorry about that,” she said, looking anything but.

The guard stood to attention. “Lady Temari, everyone’s been worried.” He frowned, eyeing the way she was holding herself; her iron fan weapon was doing most of the holding. “And, if you don’t mind me saying, it looks like we have reason to be.”

Temari grunted at him. “I don’t need a medic,” she said, when he opened his mouth to speak again. “I just need to get home. I have to report straight to…” She winced.

He’d met her in person a few times and if there was one thing he’d learned about the oldest of the sand siblings it was that she hated being treated like she was useless. Nobody helped her. She helped herself. That was the rumour too. By the looks of her, she’d used up all her chakra just to get back and it was clearly embarrassing her. She shifted her stance, attempting to look more imposing. Her face was flushed and there were bruises and gashes on her person he was sure were hurting more than she let on.

No need to drag this out, I guess.

He nodded to her, and she visibly relaxed. “Understood.” He motioned to the patrol guards who were still standing in the same wary stance from before Temari had revealed herself. “I can’t leave my post but–”

“No,” she said, “you.”

Was this because he was a jounin? The other guards were chunin. A number of reasons came to mind, but he didn’t know what the big deal was.

“Come on,” she interrupted his thoughts. Temari started towards him, using her fan like a cane.

He nodded again and ordered one of the patrol guards to take his place until he returned. The blonde grimaced as he slid his arm around her. She stumbled and swore under her breath. They took a moment before he suggested using his own brand of the Body Flicker Technique. She seemed amenable.

“What do I call you, Mr Jounin Guard?” She asked as he manoeuvred them better so he could form the signs properly.

“My name is Arata, my lady.”

.:.

It was only an hour. It felt longer. Gaara carried Sakura’s sleeping form into her room after her breakdown, tucking her into the bedsheets, unable to leave her. For an hour. He just sat on the side of the bed, watching her, and resisting the urge to brush the errant strands of pink hair from her face.

She looks so peaceful right now. And he should leave.

But Gaara couldn’t move. Under normal circumstances, he’d feel like a pervert or creeper for hovering while she slept. But he wasn’t paying attention to her body. Not like that. Not right now. Besides, she was tucked up under the blankets. She was hidden. He just couldn’t bring himself to stand up. To move away from her. It felt like he’d be leaving her behind, or something. It was a ludicrous feeling, he knew, but one he felt, nonetheless.

It was an old story, for himself, how much he’d been worrying over her. Objectively, she was supposed to be his fiancé, so his concern was warranted. But there was a line he’d told himself not to cross. He’d never had cause to worry about that until now.

Gaara sighed as Sakura stirred suddenly. She pouted in her sleep, and he found himself smiling. Whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn’t horrid at least. Without thinking, he reached over and brushed those strands of hair away from her eyes and she sighed, settling down.

Don’t think about that.

Gaara looked around the room. It was a spare room, of course. There were too many rooms in this place. Growing up, he’d wondered if all the rooms were for invisible entities, just like the one that lived inside his head. He’d been too scared to check. After his father started trying to kill him, everything changed. His fear went away. When he returned to the family, he checked them one night only to be disappointed. They were just empty bedrooms.

There was a lesson in there, somewhere, about not fearing the unknown.

His eyes skimmed over what Sakura had done with the room, which wasn’t much since she owned so little. The back of the door worried him. What were all those numbers for? He narrowed his eyes. They were a tally. He didn’t understand it.

Finally, Gaara decided to leave. His presence wasn’t doing anything, negative or positive.

Sakura groaned at the same time he felt a flare of chakra that didn’t belong to her, himself, or Kankuro. It was too weak to identify, and he immediately thought of that Root shadow and, what is he up to now? But it wasn’t him.

Gaara took one quick glance at Sakura to make sure she wasn’t disturbed, and quickly left her room.

Kankuro came bumbling out of his room at the same time, with a stunned look on his face. Spotting Gaara, that expression twisted into a coy one. The redhead had just come out of Sakura’s room, after all. Gaara shook his head to silence his question. There were more important things right now. Kankuro nodded silently, and then barrelled down the stairs ahead of his brother.

The weak chakra flare was closer and stronger now.

“Temari.”

He followed his brother down the stairs and into the study at the forefront of the mansion. Surrounded by comfort and a conference table that his sister had once dubbed a war table, Temari stood in the centre of the room. She was alone. But there had been someone with her a moment ago. Gaara and Kankuro both let out a sigh of relief at the sight of their sister. Kankuro made a move like he was going to rush over to her and then stopped. The tears in her clothes, caked blood, and bruises were all obvious. She wasn’t standing under her own power either, her iron fan signature weapon doubling as a leaning post. Her right hand trembled ever so slightly, out of synch with the trembling of her left leg. Gaara swallowed heavily, trying not to imagine all manner of things she’d been through.

She’s alive, he told himself. And that’s all that matters.

Clearing his throat, Kankuro brushed off his hesitation and moved forward. “Temari, I–”

“Settle down,” she interrupted. “Don’t make a fuss.” She moved toward the largest chair in the room, controlling her trembling as best she could, before stumbling. Both of her brothers stepped forward now, moving to help but Temari held up a hand to stop them. She inhaled sharply through her nose and then sank into the thick, leather lined chair with a deep sigh of relief. “Just give me a moment.”

“Do you need a–”

“No.”

Gaara gave Kankuro a pointed look. But his brother just brushed him off.

“Where is the rest of your squad?”

“They’ll be here in the morning,” she said, not looking at them. “They’re worse off than I am. They’ll need the night to rest before making the journey back.” She closed her eyes for a few blissful, quiet moments before forcing herself to sit up. “I thought I should get this information to you as fast as possible.”

Gaara took the scroll from her outstretched hand, meeting her all the way so she wouldn’t strain herself. He gripped it tightly but didn’t move to open it. She raised her eyebrows at him and glared until he sighed and unrolled it. Kankuro moved next to him to read over his shoulder. After a moment, Kankuro made a distinctly unimpressed noise and moved away, while Gaara reread it carefully. Slowly. Again. And again.

“That’s some intel, sis,” Kankuro said, taking one of the other plush chairs and crossing his arms over his chest.

Temari nodded. “They’re on the move again and the daimyo is moving to intercept. Our spotters have lost their whereabouts.”

Gaara let that sink in. The night that Danzo took over Konoha, the Fire Daimyo called an emergency meeting with all the other daimyo. It was a strategic move to prevent the others from acting on the insurgence. The usurper took over with no consequences on the political and inter-village level. The old man had to know that not all the kage were happy about this betrayal. Gaara was not the only one. Even the Raikage had, allegedly, fought with his daimyo over it. But there was nothing to be done beyond complaining, behind the scenes. To publicly condemn Danzo’s actions, given they were sanctioned by a daimyo, would be too risky. It might even be seen as an act of war.

(It was moments like these in which Gaara missed Naruto most of all. He wouldn’t have taken this lying down.)

So, the Leaf Resistance received no help from anyone. Not officially. They fled their village, those that managed to, and roamed the five nations. Officially, they were deserters and were to be either killed or captured on sight. But the past few years had been very quiet on that front. Because they had received help. Gaara had given it to them. When he could.

That’s a complicated can of worms.

“Should we tell Sakura?” Kankuro asked Gaara.

“Sakura?” Temari sat up straight in the chair, wincing at the movement. “Sakura Haruno is here?”

Kankuro snorted. “Do you know any other Sakura’s?”

It was Gaara’s turn to wince. “She is here.”

His sister looked anxious all of a sudden. “Why?”

Kankuro snorted again, this time a little louder. “Because we have a traitor in the council.”

Temari’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Keep your voice down,” Gaara said. Sakura could wake up. They could gather the attention of the Root shadow outside. He felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes.

“Why is she here?”

“Danzo sent her,” Kankuro said. She scoffed but he continued. “He and our esteemed council decided it was high time Gaara is married.”

Temari raised her eyebrows at Gaara, and the redhead scowled at the light twitching of humour at the corner of her mouth. She stamped it down, though. “If we can’t trust the council–”

“We can trust Ebizō,” Gaara interrupted. “I have a deal with him,” he added, when his siblings looked sceptical. “And you forget all he’s done for the village.”

“We don’t forget, Gaara,” she said, pressing a hand to her side again and wincing. “We simply overlook it.”

“What deal?” Kankuro asked.

Gaara glanced up at the ceiling. “If he retires now, that will leave the council in chaos. I persuaded him to remain, to groom Councillor Ryūsa for the position.”

“And what does he get in return?”

Gaara didn’t want to say. It wasn’t horrible. It just wasn’t the most ethical bribe he’d ever made. Lord Ebizō had initially gone into retirement because of Lady Chiyo. He’d stopped caring about the cycle of ninja problems because of his sister. And now she was dead. Ebizō had always been the more rational of the two. If things didn’t improve, his retirement would become impossible. Or permanent, if he was ever attacked, out in that oasis all alone.

“Come on, Gaara!” Kankuro said. “You can tell us.”

“I know that. It’s just…”

“You keep him in the loop,” Temari guessed. “Even when you feel the need to hide things from other council members.”

“It is a mutual exchange of information,” Gaara said. He waved a hand between himself and his siblings. “Us, Baki and Ebizō are the only ones I trust.”

“You trust us enough to not tell us about Ebizō until now?”

Temari frowned. “Shut it, Kankuro.” She turned to Gaara. “What about Sakura? How does she fit into all these machinations?”

“She doesn’t.”

“How could she not?” She pointed to the scroll still in Gaara’s hands. “She deserves to know–”

“No.” Gaara returned her icy stare.

“Why?”

Gaara eased off on his stare but didn’t back down. His ability to protect the village lessened with every person who knew about that. He did not believe for one moment that Sakura Haruno would shout it at the top of her lungs, let alone pass the knowledge along quietly to the last people who should know. It wasn’t the point. But he’d promised Naruto to keep her safe. To keep anyone from the Leaf that ever came into his care safe. He did not know when or why it would happen, but the blond had been adamant. And Gaara would not deny the wishes of a dead man.

He closed his eyes, lightly rubbing a slight pain on his chest. Gaara moved to the third chair, feeling exhausted.

But was his silence truly keeping Sakura safe? What would she do if he told her? Would she try to escape and get herself killed trying to track those people down? She was so broken. It was clear to anyone who spent even a short amount of time around her. Could he believe she wouldn’t do something reckless, heedless of her own safety? And how was she even going to find them anyway? Nobody had, for two years. Gaara’s communications with them had been mostly one-sided. He had no idea, right this moment, how to contact them until they broke that silence themselves.

(But of course, he had been trying to, with no luck so far.)

He had no answers for any of that. But Gaara wasn’t an idiot. He knew she would find out eventually. His plans were in a delicate balance right now and pulling one thread from it could bring the whole thing down.

“We need to find out who the council traitor is first,” he said, his voice stronger than he felt. “That is our main priority.”

Temari looked like she wanted to argue more but thought better of it. She sighed and settled further into the chair, almost like she was trying to merge with it. Silence. The siblings all sat, twiddling their proverbial thumbs. Kankuro wanted to talk more about the state his sister was in. Gaara wanted this discussion to get to the point so he could order her to go see a medic. Temari just wanted a hot bath.

She sighed wistfully. “I didn’t know she was still in Konoha.”

Kankuro nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. “Nobody did, apparently. Fire’s best kept secret. Probably some sick game Danzo is playing.”

“How is she?” She asked.

Gaara understood that Temari was more empathetic to people than her reputation let on, but he was surprised by the concern in her voice. He wondered if it was because of what had happened to the Leaf as a whole. Or maybe she was being protective in remembrance for another Leaf shinobi she continued to pine for, long after his death. Gaara remained quiet, contemplating that while his siblings continued talking.

“How long has she been here?”

“I dunno. Maybe three weeks.”

“What has she been doing, missions, hospital–”

“The council wants her in the wedding plans.”

Temari scoffed. “Old farts.”

“I know right? That’s what I said!”

Their discussion moved from what Sakura was doing to what they planned to do with her. This façade of an engagement. How Gaara had been delaying the preparations. And landed on the pinkette’s thievery.

“Plus,” Kankuro pointed a finger at the air, “I’m pretty sure she’s been stealing ink bottles from Gaara’s study. She asked me for some once but that doesn’t account for how much more I’ve had to buy.”

Temari didn’t look convinced. “Why would she want ink?”

“She claims it’s for journal writing. Or maybe it was for writing letters. I don’t remember.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gaara interjected as Temari moved to reply. He wasn’t worried about whatever it was Sakura was using the ink for. He had a feeling it was personal, anyway. And if he could help by turning a blind eye, he would. His siblings looked mollified and fell silent. But eventually, Kankuro had to speak. It was a compulsion.

“She’s looking better though.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gaara.

Temari glared at him. “If I could get up without pulling something right now, I’d smack you.” She sighed as her brothers’ expressions grew grim. “About this thing with Danzo…”

That was another can of worms. Temari knew the alliance they had was just for show. But she was behind on why they were going along with it.

Kankuro lost his smile. “His shadows are up to something.”

Temari looked confused for a moment, then it dawned on her. “There’s a Foundation member in the village?”

“I forgot that’s their official name,” he replied, pulling a face. “But yeah, a Root member followed Sakura on this mission of hers. We’re keeping him out of sensitive areas of the village,” he added, when Temari looked scandalised. “And Gaara has a couple of Anbu trailing him at all times. The fucker gets around, let me tell you.”

Temari nodded, then sighed. “It seems I missed a lot.”

“Does that mean you’re staying now?”

“Kankuro,” she said snappily.

“Temari,” he mocked her.

“I have to–”

“No, you don’t,” he snapped. “There are other ninja in this village who can–”

Temari groaned, her voice rising as she interrupted him. “So, you’re fine with others getting hurt and maybe dying in my place while I sit here, holed up and doing nothing of value?”

“Yes! Yes, I am!”

She gripped the arms of her chair painfully, seething and glaring at him as he glared right back. Then she winced and clutched at her side. Temari took a deep breath, her face tinged red with anger. “Well, that’s just–”

“Keep your voices down,” Gaara said, echoing his earlier sentiment. He agreed with Kankuro, but as the Kazekage he couldn’t voice the fact that he’d rather send multiple squadrons out than risk his own sister. Even in front of family. Temari sat back in her chair, staring at the ceiling and Kankuro stood, now pacing behind his armchair. This wasn’t the reunion Gaara had been hoping for. But tension was a given among siblings, no matter their relationship. He waited a few minutes for tempers to settle and opened his mouth to speak again, but Temari beat him to it.

Her eyes had drifted in the direction of the internal staircase. She looked determined. “I want to see her.”

“She is asleep,” Gaara said, ignoring the way Kankuro smirked and waggled his eyebrows, clearly remembering where his brother had been when Temari had returned. “I do not wish to disturb her.”

And she was so exhausted, Gaara doubted she’d be lucid enough for an impromptu visit, even if Temari did wake her up. He had no idea how tiring the events of every day was for her. Especially one as jam packed with work at the hospital as the current day had been. Not to mention how she’d tired herself out with that meltdown. She needed to rest.

Temari nodded slowly. “Okay. In the morning, then.”

“You should get healed up,” Kankuro told her. “You’re no good to anyone in this state,” he added, when she growled at him.

“Kankuro is right,” Gaara said, and she sighed. “You could barely walk into the room and are clearly in pain.”

She glared at them both.

“Temari–”

“Fine. If…” She looked away, her cheeks turning red, “someone could help me to the medical core… thanks.”

Kankuro strode over to her immediately and Gaara stood and ducked to lift her slowly so she could stand. She winced again and he almost called his sand to help but decided to manually move her. They hobbled toward the front door.

Kankuro tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got this. You need to rest. You look worse than you did yesterday.”

That was true. His own sleep had been even more strained as of late, as well. Gaara nodded reluctantly and moved out of the way as his brother shifted to guide their sister better. She would not be carried like she was a child, so he kept her upright and grunted under her weight. Perhaps it was her way also, of punishing him for those earlier remarks. Temari spared Gaara a soft look and he smiled at his sister.

“It is not weak to accept help when you need it,” her admonished as Kankuro took her away. He knew she’d heard him. He could only hope she understood.

.:.

The sound of heavy rain startled her out of her cosy dreams. Light streamed into the room and she blinked heavily, a warm smile on her face. There was no rain. It existed only in her mind. But that was okay. She’d slept well, all things considered. Surprisingly enough. Maybe it had something to do with how she’d exhausted herself the previous night. Sakura had cried herself to sleep a number of times over the years but never did it leave her feeling so refreshed, come morning.

Or maybe it was Gaara.

Even if it wasn’t, it made her feel warm. Safe. Content. She snuggled into the bed sheets and poked a tongue at herself, giggling softly into her pillow as she stretched out as far as she could. There was no logical reason for it but she felt ridiculously happy.

Ridiculous.

Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it. Sakura closed her eyes and rolled over, away from the sunlight. But the warmth of it on her back was comforting. All she cared about was that post-dream feeling she’d missed having for a very long time. This was what mornings were supposed to feel like. No headaches. No post-nightmare illusions. She wondered idly if the Prazosin she’d stolen from the hospital had anything to do with this but it was probably too early for the effects to kick in.

Not that it mattered, really. She sighed once more before holding her breath, eyes wide.

There’s a new chakra signature in the building.

She sat up quickly and froze, heart racing.

Who is that?

The familiarity of it struck her but she couldn’t place it. They flared and it spiked a few times as though in warning but it came with no war cry or burst of aggressive pulses. No hand signs were being woven.

Just saying, hello or I’m home. What the hell?

But they’d made it through the sealing barrier and whomever they were, Kankuro was with them so she knew it wasn’t an intruder. Sakura laid back down, following Gaara’s chakra as she sensed him leave his room and join Kankuro and the new (but not really new) person down stairs. She smiled. Her housemates had a really predictable sleep schedule.

She knew that Kankuro fell asleep pretty fast, when he was alone. In that case she simply had to wait for about ten minutes of silence, to be sure there were no conscious occupants of the room. Sakura smiled at that, though she was always careful to silence her room as best as possible. It made her wonder if Gaara (or Temari) had ever called him out on how loud he could be.

Gaara was another matter. He clearly still had a residual level of insomnia so if she wanted to sneak down to the first floor (for example), she had to make it look like she was going for a midnight snack. If he found her, she needed an excuse. She liked the snacks they stocked, so it fit.

Or icecream, she thought, remembering the previous encounter she’d had with Gaara. It still burned her with embarrasment. The council wanted to take the kunai back but she felt a weird sense of ownership over it that her anxiety let get out of control. She hated that her weakness was so obvious and that she’d overreacted to the thought of the kunai being taken away. She could still remember the uncontrollable bubble of emotion that raged right over her as she lost control of herself and her common sense.

She sighed.

I need to get up.

Sakura couldn’t lie in bed forever, and she was curious about this new chakra signature. After she quickly showered though, the anxiety had kicked back in so she decided to find out who they were later. Her hand had hovered over the door nob but she wasn’t ready to go out there and face any of them. The owner of the chakra had come upstairs and she realised with startling clarity that she knew who it was.

She still had memories of the tough, no-nonsense kunoichi that had clearly won the heart of her friend. Shikamaru. The thought of him made her eyes moist but she kept the tears from forming. Years ago, there’d been something special between Shikamaru and Temari, mixed in with their mutual griping. And while it hurt her heart to think of them never seeing each other again, she was glad the other kunoichi had survived.

Sakura pressed the palms of her hands against the door, instinctively pushing down her chakra past where she had already done so and listened to the sounds of Temari moving through the house, entering her own room. Followed by a few light crashes like she was tipping something over.

She’s okay?

Sakura wanted to go check but this was enough for now. She pulled away from the door, getting a face full of the messy scribbles of daily kanji she’d been adding to the back of it. She glared at them. No. She could add to it later. The clock on her wall told her it was almost breakfast time. Unlike dinner, breakfast seemed mostly an individual affair in this house.

But six o’clock was too early for her.

Sakura didn’t feel tired anymore though, so she decided to do something else. There was only one other thing that had been on her mind lately. But while she’d already perfected her ink bird creation and sent one scouting around the village, there was little Sakura could do without alerting either the Root shadow or other ninja to any escape attempt. It still felt important to her to use the creatures and find a path out, no matter what happened. But she also needed another provision, if she was ever going to accomplish this. Sakura needed poison. The land of wind had many avenues with which to explore this combat option, but very few that Sakura had any access to. After rattling through a long list of possibilities in her head, on how to do this, only one option stood out as even remotely feesible. She was going to have to find a venomous animal. A local one. A native. Something very dangerous. It was an exciting prospect.

The difference between poison and venom was simple: the former was used to refer to toxins that were injested (eaten, etc), and the later was applied to organisms that bite or sting to inject toxins. The way the foreign substance was introduced into the body was the key. She needed venom.

Sakura knew some poison jutsu learned from Shizune, but did not own any tools that could help. Everything she ever had on her person was highly regulated, even the travelling bag. Objects like her charcoal and a few trinkets she’d collected that had no combat value had only been allowed because they were inocuous and the Foundation members who poked and prodded it weren’t personally aware of any intimate connections they might have.

She had Sai’s charcoal, which he’d left behind in his apartment and was overlooked when Root ransacked the place. A ragged toad figurine that Naruto had startled her with once as a practical joke and she’d found in rubble near his destroyed apartment. A twig from Yamato’s Wood Release from that time he’d used his technique to help her save her dying plant; it had still been in her parent’s house, waiting for her. A fingerless glove of Kakashi’s, minus the metal plate; she’d found it not far from the last known location of his body. And a scrap of material she’d torn from Sasuke’s mostly burnt Konoha headband that was going to be thrown out after a Root member was caught keeping it as a trophy. These items had each been carefully collected over time, starting with the charcoal during her first time free of the Root headquarters.

Sakura ran her fingers over the travel bag without opening it. The urge to do so was strong though. But no, they were best left covered and out of sight. She had trinkets and nothing useful for what she planned to get out of her stay in Suna. She hadn’t gone out of her way to procur weapons or poisons that Danzo hadn’t assigned to her or she hadn’t stolen, in years.

The preparation this kunai was going to need was more complicated than simply dipping it in venom, so her resources were limited. Trying to get everything she needed would draw too much attention.

I can handle this.

She’d had larger stumbling blocks. She just needed to focus on the things she could do more easily, right now. But that venom was non-negotiable.

Sakura had already practised giving instructions to the ink birds she sent on reconnaisance, so she imagined telling one to bring her a poisonous snake wouldn’t be difficult. She just needed the right tools for this job. Ink based tools, to be precise.

Sakura knelt down on the floor of her bedroom, tucking her feet under her bum and opened the stopper for the ink well, laying out the scroll as usual. She didn’t need to reference the book to get the image and proportions right this time. Practice made perfect but only if you were capable of it. She would just have to deal with what came out of this. But the repetitive motions had afforded her more leeway. She could even experiment with the shape more than before. She ran through the familiar movements, bringing the bird to life first and she smiled as it cawed at her.

“Sshh!” She held a finger to her lips and it obediently dipped its head in a show of what this weird version of anthropomorphism would call compliance. It had been loud, but there was no noise from outside her room. No feet rushed to find the source of the noise.

Sakura sighed in relief. “Keep quiet, okay?”

The bird dipped its head once more and flapped its wings.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. The bird was larger than the rest as she’d modelled it after a vulture (bad artistic skills notwithstanding), though it was still smaller than the real birds of the species. She needed it large enough to catch a viper snake but not so large that many people would be drawn to it. It occurred to her that maybe this bird wasn’t enough. Wherever it found a snake (and Sakura was mostly sure there were some in a sanctuary within Suna itself, but maybe not) it had to grab it without alerting any humans in the area. Or any jutsu that could alert humans.

So another ink animal would be needed to accompany it.

Snakes had numerous natural predators, not the least of which was other snakes. It was perfect.

The size concerns for the ink snake were the same for the ink bird. She settled on forming a few generic looking snakes to test, as she’d done many times for the bird, but didn’t need to do it as much. They were a far simpler design. The snake she settled on reminded her of the viper in the book she’d borrowed from Kankuro and she was proud of how much better she was at that.

Still no better than a five year old’s drawing, mind.

Sakura tested the snake by telling it to leave the kazekage mansion for a few minutes before returning. Her heart raced as she watched it go, her eyes drifting to the clock on her wall as she counted out the seconds. She waited, with the ink bird impatiently hopping around and pecking at her floor (what was up with that?), and waited. Eventually, the snake slithered back in through the open window and she had to muffle a woop of excitement.

“Yes,” she said with a soft hiss and held her hand out to the snake. It moved to her without hesitation and coiled around her wrist, moving gently up her arm. She’d never held a real snake before so Sakura had no idea if these smooth and dry sensations were from the texture of the ink or just her imagination. It felt so soft though, as her poor attempts at scales were not even scales. But she couldn’t stop grinning.

The ink bird hopped over to her and tapped at the ink snake which caused the faux reptile to raise up and hiss at its attacker. It was more of a gurgling sound that only sounded like hissing if you really wanted it to.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Settle down.”

The bird gave her a baleful look that only made her chuckle at it. How did the damn thing have so much personality?

Maybe it stole mine.

That thought caused a new round of giggles from her. Her creations were so sloppy compared to what Sai could’ve done but the immensity of pride she felt over them could not be quashed. She hadn’t created anything for herself in so long, it felt like a lifetime since the last moment she’d ever felt this proud of herself. Sakura couldn’t remember the last time but logically it was from before Danzo’s takeover. Perhaps in the midst of battle or an accomplishment while studying more difficult medical jutsu.

It didn’t even matter.

She felt so free in that moment. So weightless.

I feel like I can take on the world.

If she could recreate these things then her plans were going to be so much easier.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, and both bird and snake facsimiles turned to face her. “I need a venomous snake. A real one. But…” She didn’t want it dead but Sakura also had no experience dealing with live snakes. They were dangerous, even if you chopped off their head. She could use the ink animals to subdue it but there’d always be that underlying fear that it would break loose and bite her. It was not rational for them to bring it back alive.

Sorry.

She sighed. “Let’s try for a viper – they’re native to the desert. Work together. Find something within Suna if you can, but stay out of sight.” She paused. “And kill it first. Quickly. But keep it constrained at all times, and bring the carcass to me, but only if I’m alone, like in this room. Just… don’t be seen.”

No reaction. Their lifeless eyes just stared at her. It was kind of creepy, but she’d prefer these to her look-alike mirage any day. “Now,” she barked.

They moved immediately; the bird hopped up to the window and waited for the snake to slither up to it. Under their own, respective power, they disappeared. Gone through the open window. Sakura watched them vanish, now feeling morose. Her mood dimmed. She had no idea if and when they would return, but despite this, was confident none of this would be in vain.

.:.

There was no excuse to delay it any longer. The day had begun. And like it or not, she had to return to her previous obligations. For now. Fresh on the high of having finally sent her ink creatures out to capture and kill a snake for her venom, Sakura dressed (having already showered), and then tentatively made her way downstairs, knowing all three of the sand siblings were waiting for her.

They were in the kitchen.

Sakura smelled the fried breakfast from the top of the stairs and on the last step, her stomach gurggled painfully. She walked into the kitchen and stopped immediately, her body tensing as one of the figures in the room turned and threw themselves at her. Normally, she’d have ducked out of the way and counterattacked but Sakura found herself rooted to the spot as Temari embraced her. The pinkette didn’t hug her back, despite all the alarm bells ringing in her head, reminding her she probably should. It was a weird way to feel torn. But she did relax into the blonde’s hold and waited her out instead of trying to push her away.

“Come on, Temari,” Kankuro said eventually. “Let her breathe and eat something before you attempt to suffocate her, at least.”

“Sorry.”

Sakura plastered a fake smile to her face as Temari pulled away. The blonde winced immediately.

Bad fake smile.

She was ushered over to the island in the middle of the kitchen, next to Gaara, who gave her a small smile that she easily returned. It seemed they were all waiting for her to do or say something.

“Thank-you,” she whispered, when Kankuro handed her a plate ladden with fired bacon, eggs, and tomato.

“Anything you want to add?” He asked, and she chose some extra bacon and some onion. Lots of it.

Sakura smiled around her food as the siblings fell into silence, thankfully not all staring at her now.

Well this is fun.

.:.

After breakfast, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of Matsuri and Yukata, who had taken over supervisory roles of escorting Sakura to the wedding planning. Gaara had been able to get Sakura out of most of these ridiculous days, but the council had insisted she attend a few days a week, and today was one of those days. He watched her face fall when she realised, but then lighten up when Kankuro flung the door open to reveal her new escorts.

Matsuri and Yukata greeted Temari warmly, clearly having not realised she was back, then did their duty and escorted Sakura away.

Silence fell in their wake. Not that there had been a rabble of noise before then.

Kankuro whistled. “Well, that was interesting.”

Temari’s confusion was evident. She was biting her bottom lip and staring at the door like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Gaara felt the need to tell her everything. So, he did. In short, stilted sentences, but leaving out all the intimate moments he’d had with Sakura. Just the highlights of the important things.

Temari let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, fuck me.”

Kankuro laughed and coughed at the same time. She ignored him.

“This complicates things,” she said. “How much have you told her about this fake engagement?”

“He’s been avoiding her,” Kankuro said.

“I have not.”

The brunette just laughed.

“She joins us for dinner every night,” Gaara said. “And… I may have. A little.”

Except for moments like last night. Which they didn’t need the details of.

Temari snorted. “Well, if it’s from some misguided sense of not wanting to get close to her since this marriage thing is clearly a sham, then stop it.” She held up a hand to stop his retort, if in fact he meant to reply when he stood taller and opened his mouth slightly. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that by avoiding her, you might be doing more harm than good? That it could be interpreted as her not being good enough. That you might as well be strangers?”

“Aren’t you overreacting?” Kankuro asked.

“No,” she snapped.

The emotion on her face startled her brothers. Gaara remembered Temari had been on good terms with Sakura several years ago but that hardly equated to the level of protectiveness rolling off her right now. Again, he wondered if it was misdirected concern because of that Leaf shinobi she had grown close to.

“I cannot speak to the reality for those on the front lines,” Gaara said. “She went through… something. I don’t know.” He sighed. “She is not the woman we recall.”

“But–”

“But,” Gaara began, drawing the word out. “I have no intention of allowing harm to come to her for as long as she remains our guest.”

“You should tell her that.”

“I want to,” he said, and sighed again, running a hand over his face. “She is strong but fragile. Anything I say may set her off. She seems so delicate. Like a battered flower more than the emotional teenager from my memories. Last night, she broke down over a kunai that was meant to kill her. I do not wish to add to that.”

“Look,” Temari said, “I can’t say what everyone under Danzo’s tyranny has gone through, but from my own personal, subjective and limited experience with anything to do with that regime, I think that whatever you can imagine she endured, the reality was worse.” Her brothers shared a confused look as she continued. “I’ve heard rumours; nothing that can be corroborated. The Foundation are very good at brainwashing techniques. The really barbaric kind of techniques.”

Kankuro groaned. “What does that mean?”

“Danzo is an expert in sealing jutsu,” she continued, ignoring Kankuro and addressing Gaara. “Rumour has it that he implanted every Root member with his own personal sealing jutsu. I can only imagine what kind of invasive things he’s done to others, including Sakura.”

“Where did you hear all of this?”

“Around.”

“No wonder she is the way she is,” Kankuro said. “I’d have run off by now, in her place.”

Gaara knew from his own experience that a broken mind was easier to predict than most people believed. She had nowhere else to go but back to Konoha. It was familiar. And she likely had no idea the Resistance even existed. What else was she going to do? And he knew that runaway Leaf ninja were not spared quick deaths. It still boggled his mind that she was still a part of all that though.

“Anything’s possible,” Temari said, leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen and crossing her arms. “The human psyche is really complicated.”

Gaara didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but these things needed to be said. “She needs therapy.”

“Therapy?” Kankuro was confused.

Another thing he had to explain.

They both gave him strange looks.

“Maybe you could be her therapist,” Temari said. She raised an eyebrow at Gaara when he baulked. “Or maybe I’ll do it.”

“She’ll have to be willing,” he said.

“How to convince Sakura-san to go to a mind medic. Hm.” Kankuro rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He was clearly drawing this out for dramatic effect. “Well, I’m drawing a blank.”

Temari scoffed. “You’re always drawing a blank.”

“There’s no such thing as a mind medic,” Gaara said.

“Oh? I guess I just assumed…”

“Then what was all this talk for?”

“Civilian therapist.”

“Eh, I don’t know about that, Gaara.”

The redhead scowled. “I want to be honest with her. But… I don’t know how.”

“How she’ll take it?”

He nodded. “The civilian therapist said not to force or manipulate her into it. She has to do it willingly. And knowingly.”

“You spoke to a civilian therapist on her behalf?”

Gaara felt his face heat up. But what he was so embarrassed over, he didn’t know.

“Well, at least it’s a start.”

That was that, then. What they needed to do was convince her in a way that didn’t back her into a corner.

“How much of this do we tell her?” Kankuro asked.

“Only what’s necessary,” Gaara replied. “We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“And we need to kill that Danzo bastard,” Temari said. She rolled her eyes when Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow. “Don’t try to convince me you’re not planning on it. This isn’t the world that Naruto wanted. And it’s his vision you’re trying to uphold. Everything you’ve been doing behind the scenes, apparently with Lord Ebizō’s approval, has been leading to Danzo’s head on a spike, right?”

Gaara sighed, nodding.

“Then it’s like I said: we need to kill that Danzo bastard.”

“Hell yeah!” Kankuro let out a whoop.

“Let’s hope it all goes according to plan.”

“Don’t be a wet noodle, Gaara.”

“Don’t forget we still have one or more council traitors to deal with first. We can’t move against Danzo until they’re disposed of.”

Temari smiled. “You really are a wet noodle, Gaara.”

He shook his head but couldn’t suppress a smile. They fell silent for a moment. The smell of breakfast still lingered in the air.

“This feels strange,” Temari said. “Talking about Sakura like this behind her back,” she added, when her brothers looked confused. “I know we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just… after everything that’s happened. I think we’re all a little broken.”

Gaara stood up straighter, unable to prevent the pang of guilt he felt at the reminder that he still sent Temari out there in this climate. His sister was too stubborn to just sit on the bench and wait it out. She had also lost someone she loved, just as Sakura had. The Nara boy whose given name Gaara could never remember. Temari didn’t even have the closure of knowing who killed the Leaf ninja, let alone how it happened.

He was just gone.

And that is why she still goes out there.

“You should ask her on a date,” Kankuro said suddenly. He blushed as they both turned to stare at him. “Well, he should.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Temari said, impressed. “He could do it under the guise of getting to know her better because of the engagement.” She poked Gaara’s arm. “Which you will do, regardless. Date her, talk to her, and try to figure out how we can help her in the meantime.”

He sighed and nodded. Gaara wasn’t opposed to the idea, but there were so many ways this could go wrong.

“This is cool,” Kankuro smiled widely. “And if they really hit it off, maybe it won’t be fake anymore.”

Gaara just rolled his eyes.

“In the meantime,” Temari said, rubbing her hands together in a mock evil genius gesture, “go get that date organised.”

“When I return tonight,” he promised, before turning on his heel and leaving.

His siblings watched him leave.

Kankuro gave Temari a one-armed hug. “Aaww, he cares about her.”

“Get off me.” She shoved him away, ignoring his yelp when Kankuro fell over. “Brothers.”

.:.

Where the hell are they?

Sakura had just returned from her day of hellish wedding plans and one of the few things that had gotten her through the day was the hope to see her ink creations returning with a dead snake in her bedroom.

Weird kink.

“Perfect for someone so fucked up.”

Sakura glanced toward the door to her closet where the mirage stood, a maniacal grin on its ugly face a shiver running down her spine. She tried standing up to the damn thing, but it made no difference. It freaked her out. Old and new pain.

“Just admit it: your little experiment failed. You took drugs to sleep better but you’re as fucked up as ever.”

“Shut up.” Sakura started pacing her room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a mindless, stupid, ugly mirage.”

Not mature, but she didn’t care.

The figure floated toward her, and she stepped backward.

“You’re regressing,” it said. “Letting your fears barricade you in this room. Because you know you don’t deserve anything better.”

“You’re wrong.”

It cackled.

Shaking, Sakura moved toward the window and turned away from the ugly mirror that was the mirage. It was like turning your back on an enemy when you know they have a kunai in their hand. Her own kunai was currently tucked in the window frame. She stroked the handle as it sat in the grooves of the frame, lovingly. There were no distinguishing marks, because it had been procured for a man whose final mission was to sneak into the hidden sand village for assassination, but she liked the blandness of it.

And soon it’ll shine. Soon it’ll sing and shine and kill. With poison.

She smiled at that, forcing herself to ignore the mirage, hoping it had disappeared behind her back.

The sunset was still a little while away, so she just stood and watched the light patters of the bright rays as they slowly changed colour to signal the end of the day. A soft breeze made her shiver, but she embraced it. Even the occasional shadowy hint that her Root stalker was nearby didn’t lessen the contentment she felt as she stroked the kunai. Over and over again.

Blessed silence.

And then the sun fell from the sky.

When she finally heard Gaara return and climb the stairs to his room, Sakura pushed away from the window, leaving the kunai behind. The mirage watched as she grabbed the stick of charcoal from her travel bag and wrote the kanji for twenty-four on the back of the door before leaving the room. She wasn’t going to get anywhere just hiding out with her broken psyche. It grinned at her, like it was silently challenging her to do what she was about to do. Or telling her she was too chicken to even try.

I’ll show you.

She drew a deep breath and then threw her bedroom door open. Adrenaline drove her. She moved, forcing herself not to overthink it. If she stopped and ran through the ramifications of what she was about to do, in her mind, she would not be doing it.

Now or never.

Sakura knocked on the door. His door. No hesitation. No fear. Even as she clasped her hands together in an attempt to control the trembling. Noise from within. She gulped. And forced a smile to her face as the door swung open.

Gaara looked a little surprised to see her. She supposed if her chakra wasn’t currently suppressed instinctively, he’d have sensed her coming.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Sakura cleared her throat. “Can we talk?”

Gaara moved to let her into his room and closed the door. “I was hoping to speak with you soon.”

“You were?” She was surprised.

Gods this is nerve wracking.

He looked a little nervous now too.

“We should spend some time together.”

What the hell was that?

Her eyes widened. He just blurted it out. The edges of his ears were tinged pink, and his face was slightly flushed. It was cute. He was cute. Incredibly so. She had to hold back a grin. Her heart was racing. In a good way.

“Like a date?”

He nodded. She didn’t think anyone’s face could get that red, that fast. It made her swell with pride. Maybe she could have a little fun with him after all. If he was up to it. If he even knew what that meant. But no matter how excited he was making her; Sakura still felt a bundle of nerves eating at her stomach.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to stutter. He let out a sharp breath and a genuine smiled lit up his face, making her face warm. She tried to return the smile as nonchalantly as possible. “Yeah. I’d l-like that.”

Did someone raise the thermostat? It just got incredibly hot in here.

.:.

#GaaSaku #fanfiction #my fanfiction #A Beautiful Lie

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dorn-queen-of-thorns · 11 months

Text

"Our future signed in letter"

Chapter 3

High in the air:

The sadness and depression are so heavy in her bones. She just can't anymore. First she lost Eren many years ago and now she has to separate from Armin and his family. The only good thing is that she will have a chance to see him and his family again in a few years, when things have calmed down.

Mikasa has turned away from Onyankopon and leans her head against the window, so he doesn't notice that she has cried herself to sleep. She is not very familiar with the presence of the former anti-Marley alliance spy, even though they worked together against Eren 6 years ago. So she has tried the best to hide her tears, but she probably failed. But sleep lets her sink into a depth that she doesn't notice much any more.

She dreams of Eren and Armin as she always played with them and always had the urge to take care of both . For everything in the world she wanted to protect both of them. Now with Eren she failed miserably. She couldn't protect him from himself, and she is responsible for his death and has to live with the guilt. Back then it was called Eren or everyone else had to die. It was a logical calculation: one life against all life. What guilt was easier to bear: being responsible for the death of a loved one or the death of all of your friends. Very hard to say for her: Eren against Armin and Levi. Ultimately, she decided in favor of the life of Armin and Levi, and death for Eren.

As a young girl, she runs after Eren and Armin playfully and somehow tries to reach them. She stretches her right arm forward, only one meter, two, three ... She just can't reach either of them. They move further and further away from her. Until they both turn to her and both wave to her with a big smile . But she just doesn't get a step closer ... And when her despair threatens to overwhelm her, she wakes up in horror and holds her chest, breathing heavily.

She looks over at Onyankopon with sleepy eyes. "You finally woke up, you slept through half of the flight," he smiles, "at least you have at least a good night's sleep."

Mikasa assumes he is referring to her former captain. "Seems so", she says with a dry mouth. Onyankopon hands her a canteen with water, which she gratefully accepts and drinks a generous sip. "We have to make a short stop in Cairo to fill up with kerosene and water. Otherwise we make an involuntary landing in the Mediterranean Sea and go swimming or pass out due to dehydration. "

Mikasa has never heard of such places and Onyankopon understands her questioning look, “Gabi and Falco are also in London with the captain. They often help out in our tea shop and Falco is trained to be the next successor of me and Levi. The two have a globe and literature on the geography of the world in their household. The two will show you and teach you a lot. "

“Gabi and Falco have a common household?” Mikasa finds this hard to believe. Both are at least 7 years younger and should therefore be around 18 years old. “Yes, for half a year. You can't blame either of them. Both are children of war and are looking for their peace with each other, "says Onyankopon thoughtfully," the captain makes dry remarks about the fact that both are only engaged to exchange their first sexual experiences with his dirty mouth. But he is not entirely wrong about it. We all expect that Gabi will soon announce the good news that she will be pregnant with her first child. "

Mikasa looks at Onyankopon with wide eyes. She can imagine how Levi's remark about them sounds in her ears and laughs inwardly. A giggle derails from her lips.

“The captain should take care of his affairs rather than give advice about Gabi and Falco. Isn't it Mikasa? ”He winks at her mischievously. She is embarrassed again.

"I'm afraid he'll send me away because I haven't said a single word of farewell to him," she says thoughtfully.

Onyankopon understands her concern, “From what Armin said, you were in shock at this point. Levi knows that too. "

"It's not that," she bursts out emotionally. She casually wipes away the moisture in her eyes, "I left them all because of Eren and made it appear that the others are unimportant. I left him badly injured and then the remains of a corpse were more important than an injured person at that moment. He could also have died and I just accepted it ", she alludes to the captain.

“Mikasa, he was not alone and he is now in the best of health as a war veteran can be. And he said it once , that he didn't know , how he would react, if he had stood there with Erwin or Hanji in your place. You were in a state of emergency and he shows understanding and is not resentful towards you. I think he could forgive you almost everything. You are important to him. More than you probably realize, "he looks at her empathetically.

Mikasa is embarressed when he says this confirmation , "he is also important to me," she says softly with a smile on her face. “It's good that that's been clarified and you should tell him personally when you get the chance. There will be plenty of opportunities for you in the near future. By the way, he doesn't know that you are on your way to see him, "Onyankopon mentions," you can decide , when you want to see him for the first time and he just knows that I have an important job to do. If you want, you can take a room first to think about how you want to proceed. But be prepared that as soon as he sees you again for the first time, he won't want to let you go. Can you handle it?"

Onyankopon looks at her expectantly, Mikasa’s eyes start to shine. He understands why the captain fell in love with her many years ago and he is happy for both of them that she seems to reciprocate her feelings for him. “Now prepare yourself for the landing. We will slowly lose height now, but don't be afraid. "

They land on an airfield in Cairo with a strange feeling. Mikasa has never seen so many "flying boats". Onyankopon notices her overwhelmed look, "You should see the airport in London. Cairo is nothing against it. It takes an hour to refuel the kerosene. In that time we can have a drink. We can sit down together in the next café and take a short break. "

They sit down together in a café with a large viewing platform. Onyankopon noticed Mikasa's surprised look. Among them is a huge river landscape that Mikasa has never seen before. At the river banks she sees small forests that are fed by the water and then these forests are again surrounded by a sand landscape. A surreal picture.

“Is that a sea? I only saw so much water near the Sea of Paradis ”, Mikasa is always overwhelmed by so much water. Armin would certainly have enjoyed this view.

“It's a river,” Onyankopon explains to her. He sips a dark drink that looks like coffee, only much, much darker, “we call it the Nile, and it's the second largest river on earth next to the Amazon. And extends over there the Saharan desert, the largest desert on earth. ”With so many unknown names, Mikasa becomes completely confused and she cannot believe that this is supposed to be a river .. The waiter brings Mikasa the same drink and a sweet pastry. She sips the drink and it tastes a little like those foreign spices that are sold dearly in the market in Paradis . The pastry is filled with dry fruit and is so sweet it sticks to her teeth.

“The locals call this drink mocca and it's a mix of very strong coffee and cinnamon and cardamom. But you should be careful and not drink the last bit, "this objection came too late to Mikasa's facial reaction. She feels too late how the coffee grounds migrate down her esophagus and has to gag and cough at this feeling. Customers look at her disgusted at the next table she is uncomfortable to attract attention again. Be it not for her appearance this time, but for her behavior. Onyankopon gives her a handkerchief so that she can calm down and soothes the neighbors at the table and explains that this is her first time drinking this drink After this incident, Mikasa wants to go back to the plane and Onyankopon has her takeaway rations packed and pays for everything.

Ashamed, she sits back on the plane and sadly eats her pastries. Onyankopon carefully touches her shoulder, "people would treat you very differently if they knew that the" savior of mankind "was standing before them. Armin didn't want to be portrayed as the sole hero with his team and that's why he made many things clear that you saved us all. However, he didn't want people to look for you because you need your time and want to determine when the time is ready.“

She looks at Onyankopon questioningly. “That's your nickname in the world. You are a heroine here and cause many to write songs and stories about you. The young girl Mikasa, who saved the world and the rest of humanity from Eren Jaeger ... "

"PLEASE STOP !!!" Mikasa cannot hear such nonsense and closes her ears. Images of her and Eren come back to her and how she kissed his cold lips. She trembles at the thought and all memories come back to her. The long unspeakable dream with Eren and all that blood ...

"Shit !!!", Onyankopon curses at his own stupidity and he gently strokes her back, "I didn't want to hurt you and remind you of things that you haven't been able to process yet." Tears of grief come again in her high. She actually didn't want to cry again, "I wish Armin was here ...", she says sadly. He could surely have brought her back out of the deep.

“Mikasa, he's not here and he's trying to protect his family. You don't know how afraid he is for them and for you too ", Onyankopon sighs sadly," it's just not fair. After you all gave so much from the Alliance and risked your life and the 14th Commander died in the process ", On the mention of Commander Hanji Zoe, Onyankopon seems emotional," You, Armin and his family are being persecuted on Paradis and accused of murdering Eren. Are you aware of that? "

Mikasa is not stupid and lately she has been receiving solace in the marketplace. She nods in understanding and a deep fear builds up in her, “But why did he take care of me first and not Annie and Jonathan? Onyankopon, hopefully the others will make it ... "

Onyankopon can empathize with the fear, “Mikasa, they will make it. Do not worry. Annie is heavily pregnant and the journey is even more difficult and dangerous for her than it is for you. She had to make important arrangements with her midwife again today. But now Annie and Jonathan should be away from the island and on the way to her father in Marley and Armin will be on his way tonight. ”Mikasa tries to calm down slowly and with that ends the conversation. Onyankopon decides to get some sleep again, as the flight is a total of 14 hours and a 28-hour flight within 48 hours is simply a strain. Flight experience or not. Neither of them are in a hurry to get to London, so Mikasa watches the people for 2 hours. She sees young families walking with their children and imagines her new life in London.

So Gabi and Falco are engaged now ? , she thinks. Will I feel the same way with Levi? The thought fills her with a warmth that she knows from time to time in times of being alone. She imagines how Gabi and Falco are expecting their first child and how she is again the aunt of a newborn. She thinks of Jonathan at the thought. Who was always inquisitive by her side and wanted to know everything possible when they were out in nature together. She has to smile at the thought.

After about 2 hours, Onyankopon wakes up feeling refreshed and indicates that the flight will continue. They still have a 7-hour flight ahead of them and in the end they both arrive at Croydon Airport in South London late at 10 o'clock in the evening. Since Onyankopon is too exhausted to drive again and he notices Mikasa's growing nervousness, he lets them both take a carriage to Levis Tea Shop. The climate in London is completely different. It is very warm here and many of the residents have the same color as Onyankopon. Mikasa has never seen so many dark-skinned people. Everywhere she sees construction sites and the reconstruction of the capital, for the destruction of Erens rumbeling is responsible.

Mikasa is depressed by the sight of the city and sees something good in this world, to have stopped Eren. Otherwise everything would have been completely destroyed here. Erwin once called such a warlike act leaving scorched earth. Interested, she lets her gaze wander everywhere, the lanterns go on in the late evening and a romantic atmosphere arises. Onyankopon slept the whole trip. He is too exhausted, he has almost 30 hours of flight behind him and then the worry of being caught on Paradis.

After a 20 minute drive through South London they arrive at the small tea shop. Onyankopon wakes up tired, “we are there, Mikasa.” Mikasa sees the little shop from the outside. It has a large shop window called "Levi‘s & Onyankopon‘s Tea Shop". From the outside, Mikasa sees a small but apparently muscular person in a wheelchair wiping the tables in the shop, Mikasa's heart leaps and bounds. She also sees two younger people, clearly Gabi and Falco. Both clean up the outside area and move the chairs. Onyankopon unloads her luggage and gives the driver the fare.

“Are you ready?” Asks Onyankopon, examining her. Mikasa nods to him. Onyankopon goes ahead and she follows him across the street. As with every meter, Mikasa feels that she is losing courage. She just has to go or vanish into thin air. The distance to Onyankopon slowly increases and in an unnoticed minute on his part she disappears into the next best alley. Discouraged, she lets herself slide down the wall of the house. What am I doing here, dressed up like a doll? , she thinks. She looks into her likeness of a shard of mirror that has been carelessly thrown away. . . Mikasa crosses her arms and she hides her head behind them. Above her she hears the chirping of a sparrow jumping happily around on the gutter of the house and she is surprised that there are wild animals in a big city like London and thinks, what is a sparrow looking for alone in the middle of the late evening? But the thought quickly evaporates, just as the sparrow has disappeared again.

Onyankopon arrives at the shop with the luggage. Gabi greets Onyankopon beaming with joy and looks surprised at the large suitcase he is lugging around with him. She thinks her part and knowing that Onyankopon has been to Paradis, Gabi is happy: "Don't say now, you brought her with you?" She looks curiously behind Onyankopon's back, but doesn't see anyone. During that time, Falco and Levi have started to settle today's daily income and have not yet noticed the excitement.

Onyankopon looks behind him and is shocked to find that Mikasa is no longer with him. Crap!!! Is the only thing he can think of now. Beads of sweat form on his forehead, startled, "Gabi, help me to look for her, she can't be far," he says quietly to her. Levi looks skeptically at the huge suitcase at the cash register and just snorts: “ Oi! Onyankopon! Send your visit to a rented room. We are not a hotel here! " Levi sees Onyankopon walking down the street with Gabi. Levi thinks, What the fuck?

Meanwhile, Mikasa sits in hiding and hears his voice again after so many years. It is his wild puss again, but it is clearly his deep, dark voice. She comes out of the dark alley. Pull yourself together, Mikasa. It won't be that bad, otherwise you will take a room and then think about how to proceed. With this idea, however, it occurs to her that all the money and papers are in her large suitcase with Onyankopon. That can't be true, she thinks and holds her hand to her forehead in frustration.

Then she hears quick steps on the street and when she notices someone trying to hold her by the arm, without looking who it could be, she throws him to the ground without thinking. "Damn it, Mikasa!" Onyankopon curses in pain. “Onyankopon!” She cries out, startled, “I'm so sorry! I didn't want that! ”And helps him back on his feet. The others will be there when the noise occurs, now she has to face her fear and reality. Gabi is with them first, she sees them both. At the sight of Mikasa, she tears, "Mikasa!" She calls out with joy and storms her in her arms.

Meanwhile in the shop:

Levi looks at the big suitcase skeptically. In terms of size, it can only be a woman's suitcase. I swear to you Onyankopon. You have a few things to explain to me. Only without a word of your absence and then you come to the funnel to quarter your women acquaintances here, he thinks.

He drives to the front door and in the distance sees three figures in the darkness who are apparently involved in a fight, but cannot see anything with just one functioning eye. Except that one person skillfully knocked the attacker to the ground. He whistles appreciatively to those who know how to defend herself. He has to think about his brat again, how they worked together really well for the first time in the Reis family coup. Good old days are his nostalgic thoughts. Then he hears an animated murmur. He clearly hears what was said and her name. There are Onyankopon and Gabi and a second woman. He recognizes her stoic voice unmistakably. His eyes widen and begin to shine.

I'm dreaming, it can't be! , is his thought and he feels his emotions, which he has been suppressing for many years, come up. He immediately sets off and pushes himself outside to the small group of people. Always faster, faster ...

Mikasa frees herself from Gabi's stormy embrace and then looks frustrated at the damage she has done and helps Onyankopon to get up, "I'm so sorry, Onyankopon!" Why does something like this always has to happen to her. She wants to sink into the ground. Best to get out of here, you're not looking for anything here, right? She brushes her skirt smoothly, then she sees Gabis and Onyankopon's faces, Onyankopon smiles knowingly and Gabi is close to tears. Both reveal in their own way that someone has to stand behind her.

She hears his deep voice: "Mikasa ?!" She turns to him and sees the captain walking towards her on shaky legs. Levi is simply too proud to drive up in a wheelchair the first time they meet in so many years and tries to receive her standing up, which he only half succeeds because his sick leg fails halfway. Mikasa sees that he is about to fall and catches him before he hits the ground. He hugs her tightly and can't believe that his brat is with him again.

He feels that this type of touch is inappropriate because he is too close to her luscious bust. His body gives him clear signals that he knows from his youth and has never allowed himself to give in to this need. He feels disgusted at the thought, but at the same time he missed her closeness so much. Mikasa makes no move to push him away on the contrary. She also seems to have missed his closeness and is holding him for the moment.

"Come on Gabi. We should leave the two of them alone. They will be all right, "Mikasa hears Onyankopon say softly to Gabi and with that they both disappear.

Mikasa then carefully puts Levi back in the wheelchair. Levi looks her up and down. She has grown a little. With her longer hair that goes up to her shoulder, her appearance is significantly more feminine. She is a little uncomfortable standing in front of him in this elevator. He just stares at her dreamily.

“What?” She asks him uncertainly, “should I change my clothes. I know it's a little unusual ... "

" No! Stay like that! ", He searches for the right words," it is appropriate. "He caresses her cheek carefully," you have changed. "

She looks shyly to the side, "Thank you, Captain!"

Levi grunts offended that she is addressing him with his former title and had hoped that she would have understood the hint in the last three letters. Maybe she doesn't dare to speak to him directly either, "Levi," he says. Mikasa remembers the wording of his last letters and how he said goodbye to her , “Capt…. Levi ... I wasn't sure how to address you in my next letter ... "He carefully takes her hands and he notices how delicate they are, a slight smile suggests itself on his lips, " we have cleared that up with that. Let's go. The roads are not safe at this time. "

So Mikasa pushes her former superior back into the shop. In which Falco and Gabi are already waiting for them. Falco approaches Mikasa, not so sure how to greet her. Mikasa knows the feeling of letting new strangers into her circle. Especially since she will be the new one in the group. She offers her hand to Falco as a greeting and he gratefully accepts it, "We haven't seen you for a long time, Falco!"

She also notices how tall he has become and it reminds her of her own height. Falco towers only a few centimeters above her. “Watch out , Falco! She can throw you to the ground without further ado, "jokes Gabi.

Mikasa is inevitably reminded of the Onyankopon incident. Ashamed, she holds a strand of hair in front of her face. Falco notices that Mikasa is embarrassing, "Gabi, that wasn't necessary." Gabi notices Mikasa's behavior when Falco makes a comment. She takes her hand, “don't worry about Onyankopon, he's recovering. Besides, he could have said something instead of touching you and he knows that himself. By the way, that looked so cool the way you threw him on the floor! ", She looks at Mikasa with shining eyes and understands that her remark from the moment was not meant to be angry.

Levi speaks up: “Leave her alone. She has a long journey behind her, " he turns to Mikasa, " you know them both from before. Oh yes, if Gabi talks too much. Just tell her to be quiet. "

"Hey! That's not nice, Levi! ", Protests Gabi," but something important has to be clarified. "A big grin forms on her lips, " where are you going to stay tonight? "

Mikasa is considering simply staying here is not appropriate for her. She really should have planned everything better and discussed this with Onyankopon. “I think I'll get a room in the next hotel…” Levi interrupts her quickly, “You won't!” He immediately notices that his words are too direct and scratches his neck, embarrassed, “I have a guest room upstairs . You can live in it as long as you want. ”Please forever! he thinks embarrassed.

Mikasa smiles gratefully at him for his offer and remembers what Onyankopon said to her: " Can you deal with the fact that he doesn't want to let you go as soon as he knows about you?" And this answer is easy for her to meet, "I like to stay with you." Levi smiles at Mikasa and he had that smile a long time ago. Mikasa saw it only once and her heart leaps a little, for the fact that this smile only apparently applies to her this time.

“Oh my god, Falco! Do you see that? ”, Gabi and Falco also seem to be surprised. Mikasa and Levi look over at the two of them and before they say anything, Levi raises the floor: “You two, what are you standing around there? Look up in the guest room again to make sure everything is clean, bring the suitcase upwards and then get out of here! Oh yes, come an hour later tomorrow, for staying longer today. "

After Gabi and Falco have finished their last task of the day, they say goodbye to Levi and Mikasa. Gabi says quietly to Mikasa conspiratorially and winks at her: "And you should warm each other's bed, right?" Mikasa doesn't really know what to say because of her embarrassment.

"Oi! Now finally go and make a good baby at home !!! “, Levi snorts at Gabi to say goodbye. With that, both of them are caught and both of them wave at them.

Mikasa looks after both of them and a grin happens to her: "So the two are engaged?"

Levi pours her a cup of tea, "seems so," he mentions casually. Mikasa looks at him curiously: “What about you? Have you found someone? ”She notices that Levi is getting nervous about the subject,“ tch ”she only hears and he rolls over to the kitchen to hide his red face. He thinks, I found you. But he feels, it is too early to talk to her about it. He starts washing the dishes to distract himself a little.

Mikasa sighs that the conversation is going nowhere and sips the tea, which tastes like fine dried oranges and rose petals. She remembers, White Beauty! And Armin's remark about Levi wanting to see her again and apparently trying to tell her with this tea. She tries to remember the other type of tea, Lovely Herbs. She realizes that he tried to share these teas with her. She is sorry that she was so blind and tried to downplay everything. She feels so stupid for her behavior. She goes to him in the tea kitchen and decides to help him wash up by drying the dishes.

"You don't have to do that, you are the guest here," he looks at her. "I know, but I like to do it," is her answer and just wants to spend time with him, even if it's just doing the dishes .

Levi looks thoughtful: “How do you like the tea? Do you like it? "

“I love it !” She blurts out. Levi looks at her with wide, shining eyes. Mikasa takes a strand of hair and covers her embarrassment with it: "I like it, thank you!"

Levi shows a slight smile on his face, “ it should too. Come on ‘I'll take you to your room.” He accompanies her to the stairs and shows her the direction of his bedroom. “It's the first door. You come towards it directly after the stairs, ”he explains to her.

" What about you? “, She asks and thinks, come with me! “I still have something to do in my study and am trying out a new type of tea. I guess it's going to be a long night for me, " he replied.

She looks at him again urgently, “but don't take it too long. Do you hear? ”Levi nods calmly to her and then she walks slowly upstairs. “Mikasa!” He says. She turns around and looks at him questioningly, "yes?" He looks at her with eyes full of emotions, "It's nice that you are here!" Mikasa gets red cheeks, "I'm happy too, Levi," and she goes to her guest room.

#rivamika #levi x mikasa #levimika

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