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des2dream · 1 month ago

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Allow Me To Teach You Something!🌹✍

Reader X Andrew Marston story written by DesDaydream

It was the first week of a new semester and you've finally grown accustomed to the university environment. You recently moved out of your parent's house and found a place not too far from campus grounds. It took a lot of planning, a lot of spending, and a lot of time to adjust, but you feel like you can be able to manage now. Before you left for your studies, you promised your loved ones that you would do your best. You promised that you would have a good experience. You promised that you wouldn't let them down. You even made a promise to yourself that you would graduate no matter what. You can survive a couple years at university....away from your old home....in a new place....full of so many people young and old. You weren't used to this, but you knew that you had people who are willing and able to help you. You just know that you can do this! You meet up with your friend at one of the lounges in The Student Center for lunch and listen to them ramble about what happened yesterday.

"So this guy walks up to me and asks if I want to go to his party this weekend to "welcome the new students", but I know he's just using that as an excuse to lure people into his bedroom or something. I tell him 'no' and he has the nerve to say, 'Whatever, ugly! You'll be sorry when you're missing out' and I just.....No! I won't be missing out! I heard your wifi sucks anyway!"

You listen to every word they say, but you're more focused on your schedule this semester. You were given a fair amount of classes and nothing seems out of place. You want to make sure you know exactly what time your classes start so you don't make a bad first impression by being late.

"It is nice to have you with me. Things were starting to get a little boring around here. There's so much I want to show you. You're gonna love it! I've made a few friends here and they've been asking about you constantly!"

You nod in response as you continue to gaze at your schedule. Your friend notices the lack of eye-contact, but continues to speak.

"There's some cool places near campus that we can check out. The park? A few cafe's? We might be able to crash at my friends' dormitory once in a while if they'll let us. There's also this museum I've been hearing great reviews about! That sounds fun, right?"

You nod once more, but your attention is still focused on the list of classes you were given. Your friend now getting annoyed, sits up and swipes the schedule out of your hands in the blink of an eye.

"Hey! Earth to human being, are you in there? Are you feeling nervous? You've only got a few classes this semester and the first week is basically introductions. All you have to do is sit there and listen."

You apologize to your friend before admitting that you do feel a little nervous about the new semester and being so far from home. You're in unfamiliar territory and you want to make a good first impression on your professors and the other students. Your friend takes a moment to sympathize with you as they recall their first semester. They put a hand on your shoulder and reassure you that everything will be okay.

"You're smart! You've made it this far so what's stopping you now?"

Before you could respond, you and your friend are met with the president of the art club who is also good friends with your friend. There were plenty of clubs on campus, yet you weren't sure if you were going to join any of them. Your friend was well acquainted with different kinds of arts so it's no surprise that they'd be a part of the art club. You heard that they often had snacks on standby which was always a plus.

"Hey!" said The Art Club President as she took a seat next to you and your friend.

"How are we doing? Are we doing okay?"

She looked directly at you before asking,

"How has university been treating you so far?"

You're not sure how to say, but luckily your friend has got you covered.

"They're a little nervous, but I'm here to tell them that everything is gonna be alright and they're being a worry wart! You've been here for a while. Tell them how good campus has been to you!"

"Trust me, you're going to be fine. It takes time to get used to everything, but soon you'll have it all sorted out. You can call me if you ever feel lost," said The Art Club President.

"There's also plenty of professors and staff who can help you too. We even got some new faces recently. I'm not gonna lie, they look kinda cute. We have this T.A., Mr. Pearce who is very kind. A little timid, but very sweet and helpful. We have a wonderful dean. All the professors are cool. Hey, what does your schedule look like? I might recognize some names."

Your friend hands over your schedule for The Art Club President to examine it. She nods as she examines the professors you were assigned to, but she stops for a moment after reading the last name. She rubs her eyes and take a minute to look again. Her face went from cheery to concerned and that only made you tense up. Your friend is confused by this sudden reaction.

"Um, what's wrong?" they asked.

"Is there a problem?"

The Art Club President tries to muster up a smile, but you can still see the concern in their eyes. They burst out a fake laugh as they go to pat your back.

"No! I wouldn't say there's a problem! Everything's gonna be fine, kiddo! All these professors are great for you!"

"You don't sound so convinced," said your friend.

"Cut the bullshit and tell us what's up!"

The Art Club President lets out a defeated sigh.

"Okay, fine! You've been assigned a literature professor, correct?" she asks you to which you respond with a nod.

"Right......well......your professor.....he's.....well......"

Your friend swipes the schedule out of her hands and reads through it. Not even a minute later do they groan before collapsing into their seat.

"Ohmygoddamnit!" they groaned.

You're a little uneasy by this reaction and you ask what's going on. The Art Club President takes a deep breath before giving you an expanation.

"The university recently had a new literature professor since last semester, I believe. His name is Professor Marston. He's actually very smart to have become a professor at a young age. He seems to know what he's doing. It's just....."

"HE'S A BUZZKILL!!!" your friend yells.

"Some of my friends have taken his classes and they have their experiences. He's strict, he's incredibly serious, he's intimidating, and he's a buzzkill! He actually scolded one of my friends for being a couple minutes late like.....it's not that deep, sir!"

"Professor Marston just wants to ensure that the students can be able to take in as much information as possible. He means well, but....he's....um.....I promise he's not a monster or anything." said The Art Club President.

Great. Just great. Your first semester and you've already got a difficult professor coming your way. Just as you were getting ready for your future. Your breathing starts to get heavy. Your heart rate feels like it's pacing like the speed of sound. Beads of sweat are starting to form atop our forehead. You need to get out of there! You need to find a restroom or somewhere quiet! You excuse yourself from your friend's table and rush out. Unfortunately, you're not sure where some of the bathrooms are. You had a map of the campus, but now you've got tears in your eyes and your vision is blurry. Your eyes are looking down at your shoes, but you don't care. You need to run! You need to hide! You need to find somewhere to take a breather! You need to calm down!

Suddenly, you feel something collide into you before hitting the ground. You look to see your bag next to a puddle of someone's drink and spilled papers on the ground. You look up to see two eyes staring down at you in shock and disapproval. Today just wasn't your day! You frantically apologize as you gather up all the papers trying not to cry. You try to explain yourself, but you can't put it into complete sentences. Your practically shaking! A hand reaches down to you waiting for you to take it. Once you do, you feel a warm sensation travel through your body. You look up to see those same disapproving eyes you were scared of turn soft and compassionate. Your eyes travel to see beautiful locks of brown (or dirty blonde) hair and two perfect windows that protected those compassionate eyes. Those eyes, hair, and "two perfect windows" belonged to a tall man in professional clothing while holding a suitcase. His features were too captivating for you to look away. Your heart rate lowers and you're no longer shaking.

"Are you alright?" you hear a voice that sounded smooth like honey but slightly tough as nails.

You nod in response before apologizing again.

"Allow me to teach you something," said the man who owned such a distinct voice as he picked up your bag.

"Eyes are meant for observing. I would advise you to look up where you're going. Check for your surroundings, understand?"

You nod again before apologizing one more time and walk away in an opposite direction. You look back to see someone walk up to the man and look down at the mess on the floor you caused.

"Marston, what happened? Is everything alright?" they asked.

"Yes. I had a run-in with someone. Likely one of the students. It was an accident so it's nothing to fret over."

Did you hear that right? Marston? As in.....Professor Marston?! The person your friend just trash-talked a moment ago? The person who was said to be strict and intimidating? Sure, you felt a little scared at first, but that couldn't be him! Could it? You touch your hand and the thought of his touching yours gives your body another wave of sensational warmth. You feel your heart pounding and your face feels hot. This was going to be your new professor? Well......things just got interesting.

End Notes: Nothing like a "meet-cute backstory" to make things interesting, right? People like a "meet-cute" story, right? This was HARD! I don't usually write Fanfiction. I'm more used to writing my own creations, but I wanted to give it a shot. People seem to enjoy this type of art so why not give it a try? Also, this timeline is supposed to be Listener's first week and semester while Andrew is currently in his first year of being a professor and he's spent more time in university than Listener (if that timeline makes sense). Oh my gosh! I hope this turned out good! I'm a little embarrassed, but I hope you enjoyed it! That's it! Have a nice day! Bye now!

#zsakuva #sakuverse #andrew marston #andrew x reader #crumpets #creative writing

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belladonnadawn · 23 days ago

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AMERICAN CRUMPETS, ARE YOU OKAY???? 😭

#zsakuva #sakuverse #crumpets #election 2024

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peppymintdreams · 9 days ago

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Singer AU barista (AU where his mom is alive and he pursues his dreams )Barista slipping into coma as they got into a car accident) elias shedding tears as he sees barista slowly slipping away from this world😬🤧

We all hail peppy in unison🤭

Until You Wake

Elias x Barista

It all happened so fast…what would’ve happened if he went with them

The morning was calm, but the air carried a subtle tension as [Insert Your Name finished gathering their things. This wasn’t their first high-profile event, and while they were accustomed to the routine, Elias wasn’t. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching as they adjusted their outfit in the mirror.

“I still don’t like this,” Elias muttered, his voice low and edged with concern.

Barista turned, offering him a reassuring smile. “Elias, it’s just a work thing. Plus, I’ll have security with me.

I’m telling you, it’s not a good idea for you to go alone,” Elias said, his voice sharp but tinged with concern. “Why can’t your boss just suck it up and let me come with you? It’s not like I’m gonna cause a scene.”

[Insert Your Name] sighed, slipping their phone into their pocket before turning to face him. “Because they’re worried about appearances. You showing up with me doesn’t exactly scream ‘professional,’ Elias. You know how they are.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps before stopping in front of them. “Yeah, well, appearances don’t mean jack if something happens to you. What if someone’s tailing you? Or worse?”

“Elias again my security is there, They’re driving me to and from the venue. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You say that,” Elias said, running a hand through his hair, “but every time you step out of this safe house, it feels like you’re stepping into the lion’s den. Paparazzi, random fans, enemies I didn’t even know I had—they’re all out there. And you’re just…” His voice trailed off, frustration taking over.

[Insert Your Name] stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “I get it. I do. But I’ve got professionals looking out for me. I’ll be okay.”

Elias frowned, his jaw tightening. “I should go with you. I don’t care if it’s not ‘professional.’”

[Insert Your Name] sighed. “You being there will just make it worse. The press will twist it into something, and we both know how that ends. Besides, I need you here holding down the fort. Let me handle this.”

“You say that like I have a choice,” he said, his tone softening but still carrying an edge.

“Elias.” [Insert Your Name]’s voice softened, but their expression was firm. “It’s just a work thing. I’ll be back in a few hours, tops. I’ll take the backroads, avoid anything sketchy. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“You’re asking me not to worry? Seriously?” He gestured to the door. “Look at the world we live in. I can’t just sit back and hope for the best.”

[Insert Your Name] stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I know you’re scared. I know you want to keep me safe, but you can’t follow me everywhere. I need to handle this on my own.”

Elias met their gaze, his jaw tightening. “I don’t like this.”

“I know,” they said, their voice gentle. “But I’ll text you when I get there, and I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back, okay? Please, Elias. Trust me on this.”

Elias smirked faintly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. “You’d better keep your word.”

“I will,” they assured him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, holding onto them as if letting go was the worst thing he could do.

The sleek black SUV pulled up outside the venue, and Barista stepped out with their security team flanking them. The air was buzzing with flashes and shouting voices as paparazzi swarmed the car like vultures.

“[Insert Your Name]! Over here!”

“Who’s the mystery boyfriend? Is he dangerous?”

“What about the rumors of gang ties?”

Barista kept their head high, their publicist’s words about maintaining composure echoing in their mind. The security team did their best to create a barrier, but the cameras pushed closer, and the crowd became more chaotic.

Inside the venue, the event went off without a hitch, but leaving proved to be a different story. The paparazzi had only grown in numbers, their shouts louder, their questions more invasive.

[Insert Your Name]’s driver weaved through the streets, trying to lose the trailing cars, but the photographers were relentless. Their security guard reassured them repeatedly, “We’ve got this under control,” but Barista’s knuckles whitened as they gripped the seatbelt.

The driver turned down a quieter road, hoping to lose the tail, but one car, trying to overtake them for a better shot, swerved too close. Tires screeched.

Everything happened in an instant—the jarring impact, the glass shattering, the sudden lurch of the car. Barista barely had time to process what was happening before everything went dark.

Elias had spent the evening pacing the safe house, his nerves growing with every passing hour. He’d texted twice and called once, but there was no response.

When the breaking news alert flashed on the TV, he almost didn’t look. But the name [Insert Your Name] caught his eye, and the image of their crumpled SUV made his blood run cold.

“...beloved singer [insert your name] has been involved in a fatal car accident while attempting to avoid paparazzi...”

“No.” The remote slipped from his hand, clattering onto the floor.

Elias’ body moved before his mind caught up. He grabbed his keys and bolted for the door, his vision blurred with panic and fury.

At the hospital, Elias stormed through the sterile halls, demanding answers from anyone who would listen. When he finally reached the ICU, the sight of Barista’s battered and unconscious form stole the breath from his lungs.

He sank into the chair beside them, his shaking hand brushing against theirs.

“I told you,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I told you this would happen. Why didn’t I just go with you?”

Tears streamed down his face as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to their hand. “You’re stronger than this. You have to be. Don’t you dare leave me. You hear me? Don’t you dare.”

Outside the room, a nurse quietly murmured to the doctor about the severity of Barista’s injuries, the faintest hint of regret in their tone.

And inside, Elias stayed, his world crumbling as he clung to the faint hope that the person he loved most could still come back to him.

Elias stood frozen in the sterile hospital room, his breath catching in his throat as he watched the faint rise and fall of Barista’s chest. The rhythmic beeping of the machines was his only tether to hope, the sole reminder that they were still alive, still fighting, though their body lay motionless in the hospital bed.

Bruises darkened their skin, bandages wrapped around their head and arms, and tubes connected to their fragile body. They looked so small, so vulnerable—a far cry from the vibrant person who always lit up his world with their teasing smile and infectious laughter.

The accident had happened so fast. One moment, they were talking about their event, playfully nudging him as they practiced their speech in the safe house, promising to be back by midnight. The next, their name was plastered across the TV screen, accompanied by the horrifying words, “Critical condition following a car accident.”

Paparazzi. The word churned in his head like bile. The reckless chase, the cameras, the desperation to capture every moment of [Insert Your Name]’s life without regard for their safety—it had all led to this.

Elias had been left behind at the safe house, just like they had insisted. Now, hours later, he was here, staring at the shattered aftermath.

The doctors had explained everything to him in a clinical tone he couldn’t stomach: "Severe head trauma," "internal bleeding," and "no guarantees." None of it made sense. None of it felt real. All he could do was sink into the chair by their bedside, clutching their hand like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

"Why’d I let you go alone?" Elias rasped, his voice breaking. His grip on their hand tightened, guilt and sorrow flooding his chest. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve stopped you. God, I should’ve…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat choking the words before they could escape.

Tears streaked down his face as he leaned closer, brushing his lips over their knuckles. “C’mon, babe. You’re stronger than this. You’ve gotta fight—fight for us.”

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes to push back the memories of their last conversation. They’d argued, a small spat about him hovering too much, being overprotective.

"Elias, I’m not a child! I can handle this. Security will be with me—everything’s fine."

"You don’t get it!" he’d snapped back. "These people don’t care about your safety, they care about selling a damn picture!"

Their argument had ended in apologies, a hug, and soft kisses that now felt too final.

“You were right,” Elias murmured, his voice barely audible. “I was overbearing, but… I just couldn’t lose you. Not you. I never thought this would happen.”

He stared at their pale face, imagining their vibrant eyes opening again, their voice cutting through the silence, teasing him like they always did. But the longer he sat there, the harder it was to fight the suffocating reality pressing down on him.

His mind wandered to the dreams they’d shared—escaping Stockton, leaving the shadows of his past behind. He’d dreamed of seeing them standing on the biggest stages, their voice captivating the world while he cheered them on from the wings.

“I was gonna give you the world,” Elias whispered, tears dripping onto their hand. “We had plans, remember? You and me. Away from all of this—away from all the danger and the lies. You promised me, babe. You said we’d make it.”

The room felt too quiet, the beeping of the monitors a cruel reminder of how close they were to losing it all.

Elias pressed his forehead to their hand, his shoulders shaking as sobs racked his body. “Please… don’t leave me,” he whispered. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”

He stayed like that for hours, his mind racing with memories of them singing off-key just to annoy him, dancing in their socks across the safe house floor, stealing his hoodies only to laugh when he pretended to be annoyed. They’d woven themselves into every corner of his life, and now the thought of losing them was more than he could bear.

When the first rays of morning light streamed through the hospital window, Elias hadn’t moved. His fingers were still laced with theirs, his heart aching in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

The door creaked open, and his mother stepped in quietly, her face somber as she rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up, couldn’t tear his eyes from Barista’s still form.

“She’s still here,” his mother said softly, her voice a fragile comfort.

Elias nodded, the movement stiff. “But for how long?” he asked, his voice breaking.

His mother knelt beside him, her other hand joining his atop Barista’s. “As long as you’re here, she knows you’re fighting for her. That matters, Elias. Don’t let her go without knowing how much she means to you.”

He didn’t need the reminder—he’d spent every moment telling them, whispering promises and confessions, hoping that somehow, some way, they’d hear him and come back.

Elias pressed another kiss to their knuckles, his tears falling freely now. “I’ll fight for you. For us. Just… come back to me, babe.”

And then he sat back, settling into the chair, refusing to leave their side. If they were still fighting, so was he.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #peppymintdreamsproduction #elias zsakuva #sakuverse elias #elias sakuverse #elias x barista #zsakuva elias #elias x reader #barista is a singer #I think we all know what this is based on #sorry UK crumpets #ask the mint and you shall receive #ask and you shall receive my dream child #send in asks #peppy is ready to hurt some feelings

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claiestve · 6 months ago

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are yall mad at me

#zsakuva #asmr #sakuverse #crumpets pls answer #i'll give u anything #i'll stop writing angst pls

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mmauve08 · 7 months ago

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Envisioning what could've been with Elias and Listener is cute and all, but it'd be cool to see if they had something up their sleeve.

Their job at Brewhouse (a neutral-ground of negotiation between gangs), implied attractiveness and charm, and weak familial ties thread the needle somewhere 🤔 It's ambitious to speculate that they have some top-dog position in a rival gang, but I'm rooting for some degree of villainy.

#zsakuva #whats boiling inside king crumpet's angst cauldron

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lil-binuu · 1 month ago

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making a taglist ☺️

if you want to be on it you can put it in the ask box or just comment under this post and i’ll add you!! i’ll edit this later to show who is on the list

~ also if you only wanna be tagged for something specific, then lmk otherwise you’ll be tagged on every fanfic or fanart i post!

all: @xzhdjsj @belladonnadawn @kieran-rhoades @peppymintdreams @xxminxrq @dollsprincesa @xxluneilaxxaus

fanfics: @rayy2191

fanart: @skrunklebink @fleurinasblog

isaac: @skrunklebink

#taglist #writing #fanfic #fanart #zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuvafandom #zsakuva crumpets

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beeblelady · 6 months ago

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A Crumpet For Saku

#zsakuva #sakuverse #crumpet #fanart

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chol1na · 7 months ago

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i’m a bit scared to send in asks because saku said his pet peeve is poor grammar hahahahhaha

i’ve heard this quite a few times from some friends/moots too hahah~

but he said this, so i think you’re good!!:

#confessions ✧ ೃ༄#nana and i were talking and came up with:#crumpets vs grammar hahah #zsakuva #sakuverse

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messenger-of-stupidity · 1 year ago

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This is a letter to ZSakuVA that I know he probably will never see.

(spoilers for newest audio. But not really since the title of that audio says everything that I say here.)

AHEM

King Crumpet,

I am just a little bug that has been following your channel for a little over a year now. In that time I've consumed many a content, whether that be while I'm studying for finals (which makes the whole uni student listener very immersive omg), going to sleep, or simply going about my day to day life. And it has been a happy journey where I jump at jumpscares, laugh at the jokes and funny moments, learn new things, grow flustered when your voice goes closer to the mic. (A very nice voice hehe)

And I understand you like angst. I too enjoy angst. The fics I write are testament to that.

But congratulations, take your crown. For you have broken this stoic face of mine (not actually stoic all the time since my poker face is for shit) and made tears generate and fall for the first time when listening to an audio. (From whoever.)

True, I make jokes about crying or sobbing but it's all on the inside. (Like the numb little bug that I am lmao)

But you have taken a character I have truly gushed and blushed over and had him shatter my heart in ways I didn't know was possible.

So take your crown while I cradle what is left of this torrent of emotions you have given me. Let me wait out for the lessening of the building dread I experienced while waiting for the outcome. I much would have preferred you yelling at me instead. But I consume this content nonetheless. (That's more poetic than I've managed to be for like... Three weeks. Which is saying something since it wasn't very poetic lmao)

Sincerely,

A Crumpet of Stupidity

(on second thought, no he will not escape this, I'm editing my YouTube comment and putting it there to heighten the chances of him seeing it.)

#messy rambles #zsakuva #zsakuva alex #king crumpet

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c-t-r-l14 · 6 months ago

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THE WAY I HAVE SOMETHING SO SIMILAR TO THIS IN THE DRAFTS RN IS CRAZY 💀💀💀

May Your Heart Be Free

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Inspired by this post and all the heartbreaking lovely replies. Special thanks to @xzhdjsj, @kieran-rhoades and @c-t-r-l14 as well as the lovely @jasminepicksflowers for the heartbreak ideas. (I hope you don't mind the tag!)

Isaac drowns in work and sorrow after you leave him to become a singer. You meet again.

The house was empty without you in it. He could feel the loneliness weighing him down, stealing the air from his lungs as he walked the desolate hallways. You had taken every ray of light when you went, leaving him in the tense darkness of his dangerous life.

Isaac sighed, burying his face in his hands as your lovely voice sounded over the speakers in his study. He tried not to indulge, refraining from checking up on you too often — maybe once or twice during the day, going through your social media, keeping track of the people frequenting your neighborhood and assuring you would never come to harm — but at night, sometimes the longing in his heart was too much to bear.

Your singing did not ease the burden on his heart, but at least it turned the suffocating feeling of having lost you into a sharp ache instead. He could hear in your voice that you were happy. The enthusiasm it carried as the vinyl spun circles made him smile fondly despite the tears in his eyes. You were happy. That was all that mattered.

He downed his whiskey, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. God, he missed you terribly. The alcohol did not soothe him as it used to now that he knew what it felt like to be held when his heart broke apart. The stinging in his eyes as his vision blurred, the cramp in his right hand, the pain in his head — all the signs of overwork he had prided himself on pushing through to continue his work until the early hours of the morning, satisfy his client and close the case, now threatened to bury him under their weight.

When had he become so soft? When had shutting off his heart and putting his head down to drown in the pages before him, stopped being enough to save him from the rising tide of his sorrow?

The ring he had gifted you lay in front of him on the desk. The note under it was almost mocking — ‘Thank you for everything. Take care.’ — as if everything between you could be reduced to a simple ‘thank you.’ As if his overwhelming love for you, the thorn in his side and the reason he still breathed warranted the meager reciprocation of ‘take care.’

He took the ring, clutching it in his shaking fist, and pushed the note away from him, careful not to stain it with the tears trailing down his face. It hurt. Having you gone hurt; hearing the echo of you in these walls, feeling the memory of your love for him — it tore him apart over and over and over again.

It made him feel like a boy again, terrified of the darkness lurking at the end of the hall. Isaac had always prided himself on being self-sufficient, but now he felt almost petrified at the thought of being alone.

Asirel, kind and indebted to him as he was, had tried helping in his own way, knowing Isaac long enough to be familiar with his coping mechanism. He had given him case after case, making him lose himself in work until there was little time to think about anything else. He had taken every case, hoping they would fill the aching hole inside him.

Isaac downed another glass of whiskey, grimacing at the tear stains he felt on his face. Nothing could make him forget about you, and as the needle lifted off the vinyl, stopping your melodic singing and replacing it instead with the empty sound of the platter turning, he stored both the ring and the note away in the top drawer of the desk, telling himself that tomorrow would be a little easier.

It never was. Your absence still burned as much as on the day he had said goodbye.

With all the work he did, Isaac rose further in his client’s esteem. They all saw him as an efficient, professional, and hard-working young man, praising him for the thorough and quick handling of their cases. His reputation began to precede him, carrying the word of Isaac Rhoades as the man who could retrieve information about questions other people hadn’t even thought about. Asirel was proud of him, of course, and many clients wanted to have him as a more permanent ally as well.

“Monsieur Rhoades, so glad you could make it!” the little man with the mustache said, shaking Isaac’s hand energetically. Normally, he would have never accepted the invitation for a soireé, but this particular client had insisted, constantly bothering him about the expensive appetizers he had imported straight from la belle France and the breathtaking music he had arranged to be played at his lavish mansion.

“Thank you for having me,” Isaac replied, presenting the old wine he had brought as a gift. Truthfully, he had grabbed the first bottle he had found, knowing that every one of them was appropriate to keep up appearances and otherwise not caring in the least bit about the evening’s festivities.

The host took the red wine, staring at the bottle with wide eyes. “Ah, Oui,” he said, sounding shaken, “excellent taste, I see. Excuse-moi.” He walked towards his assistant, Isaac presumed, handing him the bottle carefully and muttering some hurried French, probably instructions on how to store it properly.

It made Isaac wonder which one he had grabbed, but the thought quickly left his mind as he took a glass of champagne and began sipping it. He yearned for his whiskey instead as the evening dragged on.

He had handed out most of his business cards when the host approached him again, swapping his half-empty glass of champagne for a full one. “I have the most lovely performance prepared for my guests tonight,” he said, slinging an arm around Isaac’s shoulder amicably and beginning to walk him towards the faint melody he had picked up sometime during the evening from the adjoining music room.

The musician was singing, accompanied by a piano, but he had drowned out the faint echoing of their voice as he conversed with the other guests, strengthening old ties and developing new ones.

“Very lovely indeed,” Isaac said, downing his glass of champagne and glancing at his watch. He wondered if half past twelve was an appropriate time to leave already. There was a sudden stutter in his heart, and Isaac frowned discreetly, his brain needing a moment to catch up to reality. The melody sounded familiar. The tone of voice, no—!

“What a pleasure to know you like them too,” the host said with a smile, leaving him alone in the doorway to catch one of his other acquaintances.

Isaac sucked in a breath, watching you play.

You had not noticed him yet, too caught up in your own world of music to pay much attention to the room around you as your fingers danced across the keys.

He felt so stupid. How long had you been playing already? How much time had he wasted mingling with potential clients while you were here as well, pouring your heart out as you sang the songs he listened to daily right in front of him?

The happiness you radiated with as you played was unmistakable. You were shining with it. Isaac could hear it in every note you played. He could see it in every sway of your upper body as you became one with the music, letting it overtake you as you put your all into expressing how you felt.

He was so happy for you. Seeing you like this, hearing the joy and brightness in your voice melted his heart and no matter how much it tore him apart that you were no longer by his side, he was glad to have let you go and have the privilege of watching you live your dream.

Trying to blink away the tears in his eyes, he applauded like everyone else as you looked up from the piano, your song fading into the noise of the people around you. There were many, leaning against the walls or talking near the open windows as they enjoyed your soothing playing and the magical sound of your voice.

You inhaled shakily, swearing you felt your heart stop when your eyes met. Isaac’s face was ashen as he stood in the doorway. You could see the emotion in his eyes as he smiled faintly at you. Having him here, cheering you on and gazing at you with a look of such pride brought tears to your eyes, you longed to get up and engulf him in a hug, thanking him over and over and over again for everything he did and still does for you.

Instead, you kept up appearances, inclining your head and smiling gratefully at the applause of the other guests. It would not do to cause a scandal here, neither for you nor for Isaac.

Placing your fingers on the keys again, you began to play with a slight adjustment to the night’s setlist. The song was new, to the public at least. You had written it during melancholic nights, your mind filled with thoughts of Isaac, longing to see how he was, but knowing it would only hurt so much more to reach out to him.

You had never planned on releasing it, but having Isaac here, so close but so far out of reach, made you want to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to show him how much you missed him.

“Is the world enough to save

For your stoic’s life of purpose?

Did you rummage through the haze?

Have you caught off all the surplus?”

You closed your eyes, having played the melody more times than you could count. You could not bear looking at Isaac as you sang to him, worried of what you might find in his gaze — worried of your voice cracking as the emotions for him overwhelmed you.

“Is your life so full of shadows

You no longer see the light?

Are you standing in the ashes

Of the bridge I left behind?”

Deep down, you feared he hated you or harbored resentment towards you after abandoning him. You knew you had hurt him.

It was obvious, from the desperation he had tried to hide in his eyes the day you told him about your decision to the tight embrace he had given you at the door, as the car waited outside to take you away. You had almost expected him to plead, beg you not to go and leave him behind in the claws of his past, but Isaac had never allowed himself to be selfish. He had let you go with well wishes and the request to look after yourself.

“Did you drown yourself in whiskey

When you saw me walk away? — Or

Did you freeze up your heart

To keep yourself from missing me?”

Your words made him flinch. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to anchor himself to the present and remember in what company he was in. It would sully his name if people saw him break down over a song — a seemingly random one, to their eyes. He kept looking at you, watching how the light breeze ruffled your hair as you sang with your eyes closed.

You were beautiful, and Isaac could not help the surge of affection taking hold of his heart. He was soft, but only for you. Something about you brought out the side of him that he had thought buried long ago, and no matter if you were no longer with him, seeing your passion for music, the love for what you did — as much as it pained him to admit it was for the best, he was happy he let you go.

“Is the world enough to save —

My knight of shadow?”

The tempo slowed, and you opened your eyes again, finding Isaac already looking back. You needed to tell him. You needed to make sure he knew you were genuine as you confessed to him the truth that had been eating away at you — hoping he had it in himself to forgive you.

“I dream through every day,

Wishing I’d stayed beside you.”

Isaac’s eyes widened in shock as the last verse hit him. It felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. The softness in his heart not a moment ago turned into drowning sorrow. The only thought on his mind, as he heard the crowd cheer, was that he needed to get out. He needed to collect himself.

“Lovely, aren’t they, Monsieur Rhoades?” the host said, nodding towards you. He did not see the anguish on your face nor the longing in your gaze as you continued playing, unable to get to Isaac as all the eyes were on you. “Don’t you love a display of talent like this? Je l’aime!”

“Excuse me,” Isaac choked, keeping his head down to hide the tears threatening to fall and making his way through the crowd quickly, ignoring various calls of his name. Yours was not among them, so he continued hastily, needing to get out, get away, only stopping when he was safely inside his car, hidden in the darkness again where nobody could see him lose his composure.

Only in the darkness, he allowed his tears to fall unseen.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #isaac rhoades x reader #isaac rhoades #SWEAR TO GOD US CRUMPETS SHARE A BRAIN CELL

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