#hey put on a happy face; then everything is okay / nikolai | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milo-my-beloved · 3 years

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chapter nine of stupid things!

Read on AO3 // Playlist // Buy me a coffee?

Group Chat: Double Daters

Jesper: guess where we’re going on friday

Inej: where?

Jesper: no u have to guess

Wylan: I know!! :D

Jesper: if u spoil it, i’m breaking up with u

Wylan: aw :(

Kaz: does this have anything to do with the email I just received?

Jesper: depends what ur email is about

Kaz: a ticket for a festival this friday

Jesper: ...yeah that’ll be it

Inej: why are we going to a festival?

Wylan: it’s our last friday together! I move on sunday :(

Kaz: do we have a choice in the matter?

Jesper: no

Kaz: then see you on friday, I guess

Jesper: hey Kaz you’re driving, right?

Inej laughs, sliding her phone back into her apron. It looks like there’ll be one last outing after all. She doesn’t know what she’ll do when she doesn’t have all these idiots to laugh at on her weekends, but she has an extra week to figure that out.

Nikolai wiggles his eyebrows. “Going on a hot date?”

“Shut up,” Inej whines, shoving him playfully. “We’re all going to a festival, actually.”

“Well, good luck,” he replies with a smirk. “I’m sure you’ll need it.”

{o0o}

The festival, as it turns out, is little more than a gathering of drunk people in a field decked out with a collection of speakers. Inej can’t say she’s particularly impressed, but she’s here now, so there’s no point in complaining.

“This is shit,” Kaz declares, his nose wrinkled in distaste as he surveys the crowd.

Inej smiles. “This barely classifies as a festival.”

“It’s closer to a houseparty that spilled out into the garden,” Kaz jokes, and Inej laughs.

He’s not wrong, though. Actually, it reminds her of the party where they first met.

“We need to stop being the only sober people at parties,” Inej announces, turning towards the bar. “Will you let me buy you a drink this time? I actually brought my wallet this time.”

Kaz grins, but shakes his head. “I’m the designated driver, remember? Besides,” he continues, pointing out Jesper and Wylan in the crowd. “I think one of us needs to stay sober to look after those two.”

Inej groans. “We need to stop going to parties just because Jesper asked us to.”

Kaz shrugs. “I don’t know… If we hadn’t gone to the last one, we never would have met.”

“I also wouldn’t have had to run away from a load of bouncers in my pajamas,” Inej replies, but she knows Kaz is right. “Jesper might not have been lying about the live music, though. Shall we see if we can find it?”

Kaz gives Inej one of his mischievous grins, offering her his arm, which she latches onto. “Sounds like fun,” he answers, and they head towards the crowd.

{o0o}

Jesper doesn’t remember the first time he met Wylan. He asked Kaz about it, later, but the man had just glared at him and told him that he would never pick him up from a houseparty again.

At the rate they are going, he isn’t going to remember tonight, either.

“WYLAN!” he yells over the music, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s neck. They’ve been there for an hour or so, and thanks to the open bar, they’re both already quite tipsy. “HAVE I TOLD YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?”

Wylan rolls his eyes, but Jesper’s rewarded by a huge, dopey grin. “You should do it more often,” he suggests, laughing at Jesper’s fake offense.

“WELL, I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH.”

Wylan laughs. “I love you too, idiot!”

Jesper suddenly goes very still, like he has just remembered something. He frowns, pulling his arm back and patting his back pocket but coming up empty.

“Have you lost your phone again?” Wylan asks, concerned.

Jesper shakes his head. “NO, IT’S FINE. LET’S GO FIND KAZ AND INEJ.”

Wylan doesn’t look particularly convinced, but he nods anyway. “I saw them head towards the stage,” he says, taking Jesper’s hand in his and squeezing it.

The stage is near the bar, anyway. So far, he’s not quite drunk enough to forget that school’s over, and with it, everyone will be going their separate ways. In just a week’s time, he’ll be back in the Van Eck mansion with his father, and he might never see his friends again.

Jesper squeezes his hand back, giving Wylan his most charming smile.

If this is our last hurrah, Wylan thinks, then I had better make the most of it.

{o0o}

There is, in fact, a stage. It’s tucked away in a corner of the field behind a few tall poplars and an alarmingly large bonfire, so Inej thinks it’s totally reasonable that it took them half an hour to find it.

If anyone brings up that it’s right next to the bar… well. She doesn’t really have a good excuse for that one.

Even though it feels impossible, Inej is sure it is getting more and more crowded with every minute that passes. She lost sight of Jesper and Wylan a while ago, and the ice has melted in her glass of lemonade, leaving it lukewarm and slightly sticky.

Kaz looks like he might throw up and she doesn’t blame him, so she grabs his hand and tugs him around the bonfire, climbing up onto a boulder and pulling him up after her. Away from the crowds, everything seems much more manageable.

“Thank you,” Kaz mutters. Inej squeezes his arm in response, taking a sip of her drink.

“Let’s hope no drunk people try to climb up after us,” she jokes, and Kaz smirks.

“I don’t know,” he replies, wrapping an arm around her back to stop her from tipping backwards. “I think it would be funny to watch.”

“Kaz!” Inej chastises, slapping his arm playfully. “It would definitely not be funny. They could get hurt.”

“HEY GUYS!” Jesper yells from right behind them, startling Inej enough for her drink to slosh all over her legs.

She locks eyes with Kaz, both of them desperately trying to stifle their grin, but they burst out laughing anyway.

Jesper doesn’t seem to notice. “CAN I HAVE MY VERY SPECIAL PRESENT, PLEASE?” he yells at Kaz, wobbling precariously as he reaches out a hand so Kaz can pass it over.

Kaz looks him up and down, sizing up whether or not it’s a good idea. Eventually, he sighs, reaching into the inside of his jacket so he can pass it over to Jesper.

“THANKS!” Jesper shouts, smiling widely, before jumping back down and dashing into the crowd, presumably to find Wylan.

They both watch him go, Inej dabbing absentmindedly at the spilt lemonade on her lap. These pants are old, so she doesn’t particularly mind them getting wet.

“What’s his ‘very special present’?” she asks, fishing in her bag for a tissue. She comes up with an old Subway napkin and stares at it for a second, before mentally shrugging and trying to make it look like she hasn’t wet herself.

“Unless he manages to completely fuck it up, I think you’ll know soon,” Kaz answers cryptically, but he has a fond smile on his face, so Inej doesn’t worry about it. She trusts Kaz to tell her everything she needs to know in his own time, and she isn’t going to push when she has bigger problems.

“I’m going to see if the bar has any more napkins,” she declares, twisting around so she can slide off the boulder. “Want anything to drink?”

“A glass of water would be nice,” Kaz replies, smiling down at her.

“A glass of napkins and a wad of tissues,” she confirms, nodding as she drops down onto the crowd. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Don’t get lost,” Kaz jokes, leaning back into the extra space.

Inej just laughs, the noise disappearing into the night as she is swept into the crowd.

{o0o}

Jesper has the best plan in the entire world, and he’s absolutely sure the sober version of him would approve of it. That’s what his dad used to tell him - if you think you’re about to make a bad decision while drunk, figure out what sober you would think.

If he’s being honest, Jesper doesn’t think the sober version of him would be this calm about the plan. Sober Jesper would probably have put more than ten minutes of thought and more than three steps into the plan.

Luckily for him, Sober Jesper isn’t here.

Besides, it’s not like he has a history of making terrible decisions while drunk. Okay, sure, there have certainly been some… unfortunate accidents, shall we say, but nothing irredeemable. And, if you’re considering the bad things, you have to look at the good ones too; Kaz and Inej may never have met without him drunk dialing both of them, and look how happy they are!

(Well, happy is a relative term with Kaz. Jesper has seen him smile more than once a month, which - for Kaz - is an absolute win.)

Jesper’s favourite drunk decision is somewhere in the crowd, probably getting them both another drink. He feels bad about leaving Wylan on his own, but the first two steps of the plan require total secrecy, and it’s only for a few minutes. He’s sure Wylan can manage for that long.

With step one (Retrieve The Goods) complete, it’s time for step two of Jesper’s master plan.

He heads towards the stage.

{o0o}

There are no napkins at the bar. Inej doesn’t really know what she was expecting, considering the biggest infrastructure at this entire ‘festival’ is a few people stood on a unstable platform with some speakers next to it, but she’s still a little disappointed.

A little bit of looking around confirms that there aren’t even any toilets for her to grab some loo roll from, so she’s stuck with her one soggy napkin, Kaz’s glass of water, and not a lot else.

“‘Nej?” someone asks from behind her, and she swirls around to find Wylan looking a little dazed.

“Wylan?” she asks, concerned. “Are you okay? Where’s Jesper?”

Wylan shrugs, his entire body wobbling with the effort of staying up straight. “He said he had to go do something and that he’d be back in a minute, but now I can’t find him.”

Inej mentally curses him. “Did he tell you where he was going?”

Wylan pouts, considering her question. “The stage, maybe?”

“Okay,” Inej says, looping her arm through his so they don’t get separated. “Let me deliver this to Kaz, then we’ll all go find him together, okay?”

Wylan nods, looking pretty put out. Inej isn’t sure what he’s been drinking, but if the blue stains on his shirt are anything to go by, it’s a weird mix of something probably designed to get you drunk fast.

The bar is fairly close to the boulder where they were sitting, so it only takes a few moments to get there. Inej lets go of Wylan’s hand, making him promise to wait where he is for a minute, before clambering up the rock one handed so she can pass the glass of water to Kaz.

Only, when she reaches the top of the boulder, Kaz isn’t there.

“For fuck’s sake,” Inej mutters, looking around to see if she can spot him, but finding nothing. She carefully balances his glass of water on top for if he returns before dropping back to the ground beside Wylan.

“Kaz isn’t coming?” Wylan asks, sounding unreasonably upset by the news.

“He’s not there,” Inej explains, grabbing Wylan’s sticky hand so he doesn’t wander off.

“Oh. Can we find Jes now?”

“Sure,” Inej says gently, pushing her way through the crowd so they can head towards the stage. “‘Don’t get lost’, you said,” she mutters as they go. “What a load of horseshit.”

{o0o}

When Kaz spots Jesper clambering onto the stage, he slides off the boulder and heads towards the stage in record time. Sure, he had agreed to help when Jesper had told him about his plans, but he never thought he’d go through with them drunk.

Only a special kind of idiot does that, and Kaz had been stupid to think Jesper didn’t qualify.

A few elbow jabs and well-placed ankle whacks later, Kaz makes it to the stage. Jesper is up there, whispering something to the guy on the drums, who starts to smile and nods enthusiastically.

Kaz climbs onto the platform, grabbing Jesper’s arm and yanking him back down. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jesper blinks at him slowly, like he’s trying to comprehend Kaz’s question. “STEP TWO!” he exclaims, grinning.

Kaz briefly considers kicking Jesper in the privates, but refrains, satisfied with just the mental picture. “What?”

“Kaz!” a woman’s voice yells from the crowd, and he turns around to see Inej leading a very drunk Wylan behind her. “Where’d you go?”

Before he can get out a response, the song finishes and the lead singer steps up to the microphone, tapping it a few times to get everyone’s attention.

“Hey everyone! Thank y’all so much for coming out here to show your support, it means a lot to us! Now, before we go onto the next song, we have a very special announcement to make…”

The crowd lets out a collective ‘ooh’, everyone’s eyes on the stage.

“Is there a Wylan in the audience with us today? Come on up here, we want to meet you!”

Kaz watches as Wylan hesitates at Inej’s elbow, hovering for a moment before making his way up to the stage. He’s too drunk to climb up by himself, but the singer just seems to find his clumsiness endearing, and gives him a hand to help him up.

Inej comes around the side of the stage to stand with Kaz. “What’s going on?”

Kaz shrugs. “I would like to officially state that I didn’t know Jesper was going to do it this dramatically.”

“Okay everyone, here’s Wylan! Now, Wylan, your lovely boyfriend over here - Jesper, he’s called - he wants to ask you a question up on stage, if that’s alright.”

A heavy silence hangs over everyone in the crowd as Jesper steps up to the microphone, seeming more sober than he has all night. He swallows nervously, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“Wylan… I know we haven’t known each other very long,” he begins, his voice unsteady. “But I love you much very and I think you are really cute.”

Wylan blushes, apparently not noticing the fact that Jesper is barely speaking English.

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re the best, and…” Jesper pauses for dramatic effect, waiting a few seconds before dropping to one knee and holding a ring out in front of him. “D’ya want to be the best with me forever?”

Wylan is far beyond words - Kaz is pretty sure he’s crying - but he launches himself at Jesper and they both topple to the ground in a laughing, crying heap.

“Is that a yes?” the singer says, stepping up to the mic. “I think it is! Congratulations, guys!”

The crowd explodes into cheers, everyone now personally invested in Jesper and Wylan’s relationship. The two of them still haven’t managed to successfully pick themselves up off the floor, their arms wrapped around each other as they kiss.

“We’re taking them home,” Inej decides, grinning widely, and Kaz isn’t about to complain. They’re both absolutely pissed, and he isn’t about to spend hours scouring a field tomorrow when they inevitably lose the ring. “And then we’re gonna cuddle on their couch and watch a movie.”

“The deal is the deal,” Kaz says, both of them grinning as they remember the night they met. “Let’s get these two idiots home.”

{o0o}

Jesper wakes up many hours later to a bursting bladder and his head feeling like it is about to explode. He sits up, gently disentangling a drooling Wylan from his side, when he spots the ring on his boyfriend’s hand and he stills.

“What. The. Fuck,” he whispers to himself.

Instinct has him reaching to his forehead, and sure enough, Kaz has been kind enough to leave a note taped to him. On it is printed a single word: Congratulations.

Jesper smiles. Maybe proposing while drunk was a stupid thing to do, but his life is made up of a million stupid things, and he wouldn’t trade a single one of them for the world.

#six of crows #shadow and bone #kanej #wesper #kanej fics #my writing #stupid things #mmb writes

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

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Ngl, the Nadia anons and fic have me in a Nadia mood. Can we get a fic where MC and Vivienne aren't dating, but Nadia thought they were and finds out they aren't, so she tries winning over MC, and MC is both wary and slightly charmed, despite the entire Poppy being exasperated, and finally agrees to a date? It could be a follow on from the other fic or it's own thing. (If you receive this ask twice please ignore the 2nd one, tumblr gave a bad request message for the first so idk if you got it)

Pairing with: “Can we have a Nadia stalking mc instead of Vivienne? Getting intrigued by the mc and then wanting her to join her instead“

...

Written by @an-awkward-ghost

“I’m a bit confused.”

The voice is firm, perhaps even a bit harsh, and it has Nadia instantly on edge. Were it not for the small, almost imperceptible hint of playfulness, the blond thief would have already brandished her knife. Instead, she just freezes there, wide eyed, letting the voice wash over her and awaken a torrent of feelings she had buried deep within her. Emotions only brought problems, only made her pick all the wrong options. She couldn’t trust something as fickle as that. She knew that. Well. At least she thought she knew that.

Yet here she is, eagerly spinning around after a moment’s hesitation, seeking the owner of that sweet, sweet, harsh voice.

It had only been a month, but Karina seemed to have changed drastically. Gone was the insecure little girl she had been, wrapped in Vivienne’s shadow. Now she stood strong and unflinching just a few meters away, shoulders thrown back in attempt to look taller, brown eyes calculating Nadia’s every movement like a predator. One wrong move, and it was over.

Nadia didn’t want to underestimate a woman like Karina ever again.

“You said you weren’t after Vivienne anymore… but here you are anyway.” Her eyes flickered up and down, her expression softening with a small, unconcerned smile. It didn’t look cocky, nor did it look happy. It was teasing, meant to irritate Nadia to her very core, but she found she couldn’t quite look at it without feeling butterflies rise. It was unfair. Nadia pursed her lips and looked away, and Karina continued. “What am I supposed to think?”

She felt like she had been put under a microscope, left there to be picked apart by the artist.

“It… was a coincidence?” She finally said, voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing.

Karina hummed. “Yeah, I don’t really believe in coincidences and that only leaves me with plenty of creepy alternatives. You might want to explain yourself.”

“I didn’t know you would come here next.” Nadia forced herself to meet her gaze, half-wishing she could just burn the butterflies in her stomach so she could actually concentrate, half-berating herself for not realizing where her true affections laid sooner. “I had planned to stay away from you – that’s why I decided to come here in the first place.”

“Sure. Awfully close to our next target, too. How convenient.”

Frustration could not begin to convey what Nadia was feeling right now. Hot-headed indignation, barely held at bay by the cold, murky feeling of rejection. Her hands closed into fists, then opened, then closed again in quick motions, as if she were trying to grasp her conflicting feelings and bury them even deeper.

“I didn’t even know you had a target here.” She spat at last, scowling. “Look, I won’t get in between your relationship with Vivienne anymore. I won’t even stay here, if it bothers you so much. I could probably pick the next flight to–”

“My relationship?”

“Yes, your– why are you looking at me like that?” It takes a few seconds. Nadia has never had so many conflicting feelings in her entire life. There’s the bubbly, blissful hope that lifts her spirits and spreads over her whole body like a blanket of pure joy, warm and fuzzy, but there’s also the sinking, bitter sensation of a misunderstanding. Of not reading the room correctly, despite that being Nadia’s forte. “You aren’t dating Vivienne.”

Karina’s smile seems a little less detached, bordering on genuine. “It’s true I had some interest in her at the beginning, but I quickly realized a relationship wasn’t the best choice. Hey, maybe we should start a club or something! God knows there’s enough people interested in Vivienne to get plenty of members.”

“Then… but she didn’t– you were jealous!”

“Yeah, I can’t deny that.” A sheepish shrug. “But in my defense, who wouldn’t be?”

Nadia takes a deep breath. “You were jealous.” She repeats, more to herself than to Karina. She’s trying to make this whole situation make sense. “Of Vivienne…? Because I was giving attention to her.”

A light blush that might be Nadia’s imagination appears on Karina’s face. “I think we might be getting off topic here. You, uh, you said you were going to leave?”

“I was, but there’s no way I’m doing that after this revelation.” After a month of aimlessly swimming through the situation, Nadia finally thinks she might have found her footing. She smirks. “You are interested in me.”

Karina looks her up and down again, wary. “Was. You know, before I found out you are an obsessive asshole.”

“Believe me, I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll respect your boundaries.” She takes a few steps closer. Karina seems rooted in place, body angling towards the end of the alleyway they are in, but making no move to leave. “But I can’t let this chance slip me by.”

“Chance? So because you couldn’t get Vivienne, now you are after me?”

“Ah…” Nadia hesitates, all confidence wavering. The other woman narrows her eyes. “No. No, I…” The words were right there. Somehow, they wouldn’t come out.

“You…?

“It’s just. I didn’t– I…” She lets out a small grunt of frustration. “I wasn’t interested in her. I thought I was. Turns out she wasn’t the one that interested me at all.”

“But then… why did you…” A beat, and Karina’s eyes widen. “You were projecting your feelings onto her.”

“Yes. And now that it’s come out into the open that you are also interested-”

“Was. I was interested. Past tense. Nadia, I’m saying no. Can you respect that, please?”

Nadia pursed her lips, feeling her good mood dissipate. This was what had ruined her chances in the past, her near violent approach. She backed the subject of her interest to a corner where they would have no other choice but to pick her, because the alternative was even worse.

That’s not something she wanted for Karina. Whatever this affection was, it felt far more fragile and precious than any of her other obsessions. Far more real. Worth treasuring. Nadia wasn’t sure she could even call this feeling ‘an obsession’.

She couldn’t force something like this. She didn’t want to.

“I understand.” She said. “And you have every right to say no, but I want you to give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed.” That had been mostly thanks to the sheer number of sleepless nights she had had, just thinking about everything. Her ideology and how it clashed with the Poppy’s, mainly. That was why she had scrapped the video her crew was working on, why she had put on hold the heists they had planned.

She knew she still had a long way to go, but she was willing and raging to go. A change was long overdue.

“Just one chance. I won’t let it go to waste.”

…

“It was creepy enough when it was Vivienne, but I didn’t expect to endure this type of thing again.” Zoe holds up a gift for everyone to see with a small grimace. Jett takes one look at it and whistles in appreciation.

“Those are some quality paints, alright. You’re going to have a field day with those, Kar.”

“Who said I was going to use them?”

“So I can throw them out or-”

“What? No! Zoe, don’t!”

Vivienne smirks from where she is curled up on the couch, amusement crinkling in her eyes. “Now this is a development, thought I can’t say it was unexpected.” The mirth dies down soon enough. To anyone else she’d look composed, detached, but the members of the Poppy know her well enough to detect the hint of worry clouding her expression. “How do you feel about this, Karina? Would you like us to handle it?”

“I can think of a few ways that might be effective.” Leon adds, from the other side of the room, a frown firmly in place.

“She just can’t give up, can she?” Remy huffs. “First Vivienne, now Karina… When do you think you’ll have your turn, Zoe?”

Zoe gives him a dry look. “Never. Not if I can help it. But seriously Kar, what do we do? If I have to see another gift from that woman, I swear-”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

The living room is always alive with noise when the Poppy gathers in it, sharing laughs, the atmosphere light and welcoming. All of that skids to an abrupt stop as soon as Karina has finished talking. Silence reigns so perfectly it becomes deafening, all eyes on her, searching, prodding, as if they were trying to find out when Karina had been replaced by some kind of impostor.

The artist laughs. “Seriously. Just give me at least a week with her. I want to see something.”

“Something?” Nikolai repeats, one of his eyebrows so far up into his hairline Karina is almost expecting it to fall off. “Not that I don’t trust your judgement, but you must remember who we are talking about. One week is plenty of time for her to kill you.”

“One week.” Karina says again, resolute. “That is all I ask.”

The rest of the Poppy sputters in a chaos of half-shouted reasons why this won’t work, and half-muttered inquiries regarding Karina’s sanity. She takes it all in stride, mostly because they aren’t telling her anything new, something she hadn’t considered before making the decision. Curiosity kills the cat, some say, and Karina is definitely curious to see how much Nadia has allegedly changed.

…

“I’m definitely surprised this time.”

Nadia gives her a curious look, her smirk firmly in place. The confidence she exudes is something that had interested Karina from the moment she had first seen the blonde woman, an unhinged storm worth admiring from a distance.

She had certainly mellowed out. There was still a dangerous undertone to her every action, but it was more controlled. Karina wasn’t naive, she knew Nadia could still kill people if she wanted to, probably with no remorse whatsoever, but she had the impression she would at least consider other alternatives before rushing in for the kill. Nadia hadn’t been lying – she had changed.

Or she was a really good actress, but Karina was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I didn’t think you’d have such a drastic change in just one month.”

Blue eyes shimmer with delight. Nadia practically preens.

“I’m full of surprises. You’d better get used to that.”

“Good! That just means I won’t get bored anytime soon.”

“I’ll ensure you don’t.”

The chill of the night makes for an excellent excuse to get closer, not that Nadia really needs it. She moves closer to her in one smooth movement, but Karina catches the look the blonde woman sends her way, making sure she’s not overstepping any boundaries. It’s a sweet gesture, something she wouldn’t have expected from Nadia in the past.

They’re on top of the Eiffel Tower. Leon is somewhere near, out of sight, and Karina can just imagine him staring at them from wherever he is with a concerned frown, ready to intervene at any sign of trouble. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Karina stands there, transfixed by the anecdotes Nadia is telling her, eyes tracking her every movement with a shocked wonder she hadn’t felt before. There had been a spark with Vivienne, all those months ago, when the Poppy had recruited her, but nothing like the emotion she feels now. There’s a raging fire somewhere in her soul she had ignored until now, emboldened by Nadia’s smile, by her touch, by her mere presence.

And when the date comes to an end, and she stands inches away, blue eyes searching hers for permission?

Karina can only nod, eyes fluttering shut as Nadia slips one finger under her chin, directing her face up, expression softening as she leans in.

She feels like she is on cloud nine.

#Anonymous #answered #contination #lovestruck #lovestruck qot #lovestruck mc #lovestruck nadia #nadia x mc #qot mc #qot nadia #fluff #touching thursday

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nazyalenskyism · 3 years

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Let’s Get Married 2

Let’s Get Married Part 2 (I've Been So Far Gone Lately)

Summary: Zoya and Nikolai get ready for a party while reflecting on the past.

Ao3: Let's Get Married Part 2

1 Year later…

“Have you seen my bowtie?”

“It’s on the bed.”

“Thank you!” Nikolai’s blonde head peeked into the bathroom where Zoya was applying the finishing touches to her makeup for the night, the skilled strokes of her red eyeliner matching her off-the-shoulder gown. “You look fiery,” he commented, grinning when she threw him a glare, “I’m just being honest.”

“You and honesty have never coexisted.”

“Actually, we were married for a while, but you know how the story goes. We both realized we wanted different things in life, and alas, we had to go our separate ways.”

Zoya shook her head, “with the way you’re joking around it seems like you’re not nervous anymore.”

“Please,” Nikolai said, leaning against the door jamb, “I’m considering commandeering Vasily’s private jet and whisking you away to the beach instead of going to the party.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that, I look amazing in a swimsuit, but we both know you can’t run away from this.”

“Is there anything you don’t look amazing in?” Zoya knew that he was looser with his compliments because his mind was focused on the plan for tonight, but that didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes at him anyways. “Besides, we both know I’d never actually do it, but it is fun to dream sometimes, I suppose.”

“Is it?”

“What, is the concept of possessing an active imagination too frivolous for your sensible self?”

“Ha ha,” Zoya replied dryly, “why dream about the impossible? It just leads to disappointment. Live in reality and life operates a lot more smoothly.”

“You know,” Nikolai said, studying her face, “being a pessimist instead of an optimist doesn’t make you right?” She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, like he could see something just below her surface. He was assessing her so intently, as if she’d shown him a new part of herself that he’d yet to solve, and now that he’d seen it he wouldn’t rest until he’d put together her pieces.

Zoya turned away from him, slipping on her rings, “I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist.”

“That’s just what a pessimist who’s in denial says.” Nikolai pushed away from the doorway, sensing that she wasn’t in the mood to discuss the matter any further. “Do you want to help me?”

“No,” Zoya scoffed, taking a step towards him, “but I fear that I’ll end up helping you anyways. That’s always how it seems to be.”

“I thought the valiant Zoya Nazyalensky feared nothing?”

“You’re right, the only thing I truly fear is that one day you won’t run out of batteries and I’ll have to put up with your babbling for the rest of my life.”

“Why, Zoya! You think we’ll be friends for the rest of our lives?”

“Not friends,” she hissed, pointing the hairbrush at him threateningly, “you are like a nuisance that refuses to leave me alone. Like an orchid on a tree or a barnacle on a boat.”

“Did you just compare my likeness to that of a flower? You think I’m pretty, Nazyalensky?”

“Yeah you’re pretty. Pretty annoying.”

“Not your best,” Nikolai tsked, “but are you going to help me with this or not?” he held out his bow tie to her.

“Mr. I’m-flying-away-on-my-private-jet-to-my-private-island doesn’t have someone he can pay to do it for him?” she grumbled, snatching the fabric from him. Without her signature heels that elevated her to his height, the top of her head brushed his chin, her fingers tilting his jaw up so that she could better access his neck. There was nothing inherently intimate about what she was doing but Nikolai felt the need to break the tension he was feeling, or else he worried he might do something stupid.

“It’s not my private jet. It’s Vasily’s. Really, Zoya, if you want to be invited onto my stolen jet the least you could do is get the details right.”

“You’re awfully glib for a man who’s throat is an inch away from my eager fingers.” When he laughed in response to her fire, she snapped at him. “No laughing! I can’t get this perfect unless you’re still.”

“Fine,” he sighed, trying to distract himself from the overwhelming scent of wildflowers engulfing his senses.

“So, do you think Vasily is going to be there tonight?”

“Unfortunately, probably. Tamar did some digging and she thinks that he’s going to start cozying up to the board tonight.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is, you’ve been planning this for years, Nikolai. Vasily’s only now trying to take control of the company because your father is stepping down.”

“Being forced out, but yes, you’re right.”

“When am I not,” she scoffed, pulling back and admiring her handy work. “You already have them in your pocket, tonight is all about reminding them why they would be better off with you instead of Vasily.”

“It’s unrealistic to assume that my father and Vasily won’t mess up the evening, especially if they think I pose an actual threat to Vasily automatically getting the company.”

Zoya sighed, brushing past him to sit on her bed. He took this as a cue to flop down next to her, dread and adrenaline starting to pump through his veins. “Do you remember when you told me you were leaving the firm to join your father’s company?”

***

That day had been about six months after Nikolai first invited Zoya to brunch with him. It had been pouring rain all day, and by the time lunch rolled around she was genuinely worried about where he was

He was never late to work and when she asked his receptionist, she said that he had nothing scheduled. She was halfway through punching his number into her phone when the door to her office opened without warning, and in strolled Nikolai. He’d slipped into the armchair at the corner of her office, completely quiet without so much as a greeting. She was too irritated with him to indulge in what was either a setup to get her to ask what was wrong or one of his rare displays of emotion.

After thirty minutes of staring mindlessly at her monitor without a word from Nikolai, Zoya snapped. She excelled in a lot of things but being patient was not one of them.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just like the view from your office.” She finally looked over at him, watching his fingers trace mindless patterns on the window glass with a frown.

“Cut the bullshit, Nikolai.”

His fingers began tapping against the glass now and his head fell back to look at the ceiling. Anything to avoid her. “I made a move.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Okay,” she said slowly, “and?”

“And you’re not going to be happy with me.”

“When am I ever happy with you?” Zoya joked, trying to lighten the mood, but it was his skill set, not hers and he just shook his head in reply.

“Hey,” she said, her voice firm but not harsh as she stepped in front of the glass, forcing him to look at her. “What is it?”

“I resigned from the firm.” His voice was quiet, “I told my father I was going to come work at Ravkan Industries. I start on Monday.”

Oh. “And?”

“And I’m leaving. Going to work with my brother and father. Leaving the office. Leaving…” He trailed off but she finished the sentence in her head, leaving you all. She’d known it was inevitable, he’d told her about his desire to save the company from the leadership of his family, and she’d spent months listening to how he aligned himself with board members so that he could one day win them over, as they’d gotten closer and closer as friends. The problem had always been that no amount of sweet talking and promising bright futures would matter if they didn’t believe him, and to get them to believe him, he needed to work amongst them and show them that he could deliver on his promises.

“Leaving us, is that what you're worried about? You know that Genya will come to the company as soon as you’re in charge, the twins will go with you, and David already works there.” When he didn’t say anything, Zoya tapped away at her keyboard, turning the monitor to face him. “Great. They’re hiring in the legal department.”

He finally spoke, “I can’t ask you to leave.”

“I don’t remember you asking me to. Anyways, I’m not leaving because of you,” Zoya hummed, her eyes still trained on the website. “They have surprisingly good benefits at Ravkan Industries, not to mention that it’s way closer to my apartment, and it pays better.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

Zoya hit a few keys, and turned towards him. “Are you sure about your choice?”

“Yes.” There was no doubt about it.

“So am I.”

“We’re really doing this.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a “we,” Lantsov.”

“Come on now. Once you get the job, our status as partners in crime will be solidified.”

“Partners in crime,” Zoya mused, “I don’t hate the sound of that. And what makes you so sure I’ll get the job?”

“You’re easily the best candidate they’ll meet. I’ll be surprised if they don’t offer you the job on the spot.”

She squinted at him, “you’re flattering me now? What do you want?”

Nikolai laughed, “I can’t have faith in you? Must everything I say have an ulterior motive?” Is that really what she thought of him, that every interaction was manipulative, looking to exploit?

Zoya hesitated, then nodded slowly, “thank you.”

“What for?”

“For having faith in me.” A look of mischievousness played over her features now, “I know I’m the best but it’s good to know you’re aware of it too.”

“Can’t have anyone but the best as the Chief Legal Officer of my company.”

“Chief Legal Officer Zoya Nazyalensky and Chief Executive Officer Nikolai Lantsov,” Zoya sang, “I can drink to that.”

“You sure you can stomach working with me for another few years?”

Zoya pulled a face, “don’t remind me or else I’ll have to cancel my interview.”

“Your interview?”

She turned the monitor towards him, “I submitted my resume and now they’re already booking me in for an interview slot. They want to see me on Monday,” she said, glancing over at him.

“So by Tuesday, we’ll be working together again?” Nikolai grinned.

“Well, I’ll be in the legal department and you’ll be wherever nepotism gets you.”

“At the top, doing Vasily’s work,” Nikolai nodded.

“At least you’ll have a nice office I can take over.”

And that’s how they spent the rest of the day, bickering over how they were going to spend their time at Ravkan Industries, Nikolai glad that his transition to this new chapter of his life was going to be with Zoya at his side, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

***

“And now we’re stepping into another chapter of our lives,” Nikolai mused, gazing up at Zoya’s exquisite features.

She wrinkled her nose at him, “stop being so sentimental.”

“You started it!”

“Let’s go,” she grabbed his hands and pulled him off the bed. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll find you a new lover so you can stop dragging me to these functions instead.”

“I thought you loved these parties,” Nikolai teased, knowing full well that she detested them.

“You’re the only reason I go.”

“Thank you.” He enjoyed her presence more than she would ever know.

“Stop it,” Zoya huffed, rolling her eyes at him, “you’ve said that a thousand times today.”

“I just want to make sure you remember,” Nikolai smiled, following her out the door of her apartment, taking a quick second to brush his fingers over the secret nestled away in his chest pocket. Another chapter of their lives, indeed.

#my writings #zoyalai fic #let's get married

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themuzzleofnemesis · 4 years

Text

3–Memory of the Four Seasons; Scene 8

The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 118-134

I hadn’t reported Shakuson’s true identity to the organization.

The only duty they had given to me was killing people.

They hadn’t said anything about searching for the targets myself.

Perhaps as a result of war breaking out, I would sometimes see soldiers in town.

Why were they fighting? And for what reason did they kill?

For their country, for their families, for justice—the reasons were endless.

Whatever the case, I thought it was splendid.

There were pacifists out in the town square shouting about opposing the war and for everyone to join hands and such, but such things were mere idealism—it sounded like little more than the excuses of cowards who didn’t have the courage to fight.

I was certain they were the privileged sort. They had probably never been in a situation where it was kill or be killed.

Even animals killed other animals, to sustain themselves and to protect their territory.

Those humans who couldn’t were lower than beasts.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have pangs of conscience about killing people.

But every time I would hesitate, the “other me” would whisper in my mind.

--It’s not my fault.

--Someone killing someone else is instinctual, natural, and destined.

--All the people in this world exist to be killed.

She would erase my doubts.

She would make me a cold assassin.

It would be Christmas soon.

This had become a topic of conversation while I was walking with Shakuson along the main street.

“Themis, what are you doing for Christmas?”

“What am I…doing?”

“Well, I had just thought you’d probably be spending it with your family.”

I silently shook my head.

“You’re not going home?”

“No…My mother’s probably away at work.”

Most of the Christmases in my childhood, I had spent with my mother. And when she wasn’t around, Nikolay.

There were benefits and drawbacks to either case.

My mother greatly understood what it was that I liked, so she always had excellent sense when selecting my Christmas presents. Come to think of it, Mr. Ziz had also been one of the presents she gave me for Christmas. On the other hand, her cooking when it came to the cake and turkey was…All the good will in the world couldn’t get me to compliment it. Though I would persevere to eat it even so.

Nikolay, who looked a lot like Santa Claus, would make superb dishes. They were always fairly eccentric in appearance, overflowing with his unique sensibilities, but they tasted good nonetheless. Thinking on it now I was curious as to how he made them, considering he didn’t have any decent cooking equipment at that camp of his. As for his presents…Well, there wasn’t much to say. It was all useless to me, so I’d thrown them out the day after I moved here.

--I would never spend Christmas with my mother or Nikolay again.

“What do you plan to do, Shakuson?”

I’d heard him say that his parents had already passed on. But he—had a younger brother.

I recalled that letter, but quickly put it out of my mind.

“I—can’t go back to my home country either. It’s just the state of the world.”

“Then your real family’s in—”

“Asmodean. The country that Lucifenia’s currently at war with. I can’t get across the border so easily.”

“I see…”

“…So. Would you like to spend Christmas together this year? You and me.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to?”

“That’s…not it.”

My face right then was probably as red as the uniform that Santa Claus wore.

“Well then, I’ll have to get a present for you,” Shakuson said happily.

“In that case, I’ll do the cooking.”

“Oh, sounds good.”

The two of us headed home, getting excited as the conversation went on.

After seeing Shakuson off as he went up the stairs, I entered my own room.

--Santa Claus was waiting for me there a little early.

"Postman…"

He had come, wearing his red coat.

There was—only one thing that could mean.

A killing assignment.

"…"

Wordlessly, Postman held out a small box.

I didn't want to accept it.

I didn't need this sort of Christmas present.

"…"

The other standing before me silently pressed me on.

I crumbled, and reluctantly accepted the box.

When I undid the string and opened it up, inside was a twice-folded piece of paper, a box of ammo, and—a revolver.

"This is--"

I had seen this gun before.

The "Naga Custom .44"--It was unmistakable.

Shiro's gun.

She told me she’d used it since she was young—it was a precious treasure to her.

From a quick look at its condition, all of its adjustments were complete. Shiro would frequently perform maintenance on this gun even if she didn’t actually use it.

This was, without a doubt, the highest quality gun I had ever held in my hand.

With this, I would never miss my target.

…Even Postman, right in front of me.

“…”

I pointed the muzzle at him.

Postman didn’t move an inch.

--That was only natural. He knew that the gun wasn’t loaded.

I lowered the gun.

…That left the paper.

I had a guess as to the orders that were written on it.

There was only one assassination target left.

Kill Nyoze Octo by the end of the year.

He is going by the name of Shakuson.

You need no further explanation.

That was it.

Unlike the others, there was no picture.

“…Understood,” I whispered.

After verifying that, Postman left the room.

--In no time at all it was Christmas.

It was cold.

Nikolay would have said it was “quite chilly today”.

Shakuson was away at work again.

But he told me he would try to wrap it up and head back as soon as possible.

On my end I…was putting together his Christmas present in my room.

“…”

I had decided.

I would bring it all to an end today.

“—Heey!”

I could hear Shakuson’s voice from outside.

I opened up the window—it must have been cold. It had started snowing.

Shakuson waved to me underneath the withered cherry blossom tree.

"Could you come over here?"

A request from the one I love.

I couldn't very well refuse.

…Ha ha ha.

I left the room and headed for Shakuson's side.

He was wearing his police uniform.

“Sorry. It lookd like…I’m gonna be coming home a lot later than I thought. I might not make it back while the sun’s still up.”

“Oh…Well, you can’t help work.”

"That’s why--I thought I'd give this to you first."

Shakuson took out a box.

It was small enough to fit into his palm.

"It's your Christmas present. …Open it."

I took the box from him, and looked inside.

Inside it was--

"…I don't believe it…"

A diamond ring.

When I looked to Shakuson I noticed that he was also wearing a ring.

On his left ring finger.

"It's an engagement ring. Though I didn’t have much choice in diamond size with my salary.”

"…"

"--Will you marry me, Themis?"

"…Thank you. You've made me very happy."

"--! Then--"

"I have a present for you too."

I pulled it out from my pocket where I had been keeping it hidden.

Santa gave to me a revolver.

Right now it was loaded with live rounds.

I aimed the muzzle at him, standing before my eyes.

--Goodbye, the one I love.

I had intended to fire it immediately.

But…I couldn't.

My vision grew blurred, and I couldn’t lock down my aim.

No matter how good the gun, it meant nothing if the person firing was like this.

“…So you’ve figured it out then. Themis—no, Nemesis,” Shakuson said with a calm demeanor. “How long have you known?”

“…I figured it out in fall. I found the letter from your brother you had in your room.”

“--That was careless of me, and Gammon for having written it. I should have disposed of it immediately after reading it.”

“You’re trying to combat the Dark Star Bureau. And so you got close to me to use me—I looked into when you moved into the apartment building we’re in now. …It was one week before I arrived.”

That was why the organization hadn’t known that there was a police officer living there.

“…It was a risky gamble. Deliberately getting into direct contact with the person who would be targeting me. But I figured it would be the perfect chance to get close to PN’s dark side.”

“I had always thought that you were in the side of justice, and I was evil—but…I was wrong.”

“It was actually the opposite?”

“No. You and I are both…evil.”

“…Maybe so.”

Despite having a gun pointed at him, Shakuson showed no sign of resistance.

He was still on duty, so he must have had a gun on him. But he made no move to pull it out, and there was no hint of him preparing to run away.

--Why didn't he run away?

If he ran away--

Run--

"…Hey, Shakuson."

"What is it?"

"What if we ran away? The two of us."

I knew it was crazy.

Still, right now the whole world was breaking out in war. If we took advantage of the chaos, maybe--

But Shakuson slowly shook his head.

"We can’t do that, Themis."

"…Why?"

"It isn't a matter of just us. We each have things we need to protect. In my case, I have my brother and my comrades in the Tasan Party. In yours--"

"I have nothing to protect."

"You don't have to hide it now. I've done my bit of research too. --About your relation to that man."

That man?

I didn’t know what Shakuson was getting at.

"You killing people--that's for your father, isn't it?"

“...I don't have a father."

"It's okay, I know. The head of the Dark Star Bureau, Gallerian--he is your father."

"…Huh?"

Gallerian--"Master" was my…father!?

"It can't be…That's a lie."

"--Did you really not know?"

How could I?

How could I know the one making me kill was my true father?

"Ha--Ha ha ha…Enough!" I screamed, unable to hold in my feelings. "Every last one of them, they're all garbage! Nikolay, Bruno, Gallerian--and you too!"

I once more pointed the gun I had lowered at Shakuson.

"Everyone…Everyone should die!"

That's exactly right.

Give over to it.

To the feelings inside you

And--destroy everything.

"Shut up!"

I had meant to scream that at the "other me" who had been speaking just then, but it seemed Shakuson thought it was directed at him.

"Please calm down, Themis."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"--Calm down!"

Shakuson drew closer, and tightly embraced me.

--And with just that, I regained my composure so fast I could scarcely believe it.

"…Hey, Shakuson."

"What?"

"If I could do it over--"

I wanted to gaze at the cherry blossoms in full bloom with him again.

I wanted to go see the summer fireworks with him again.

And--

"…No, nevermind."

Sorry--'cause I know that such things are already impossible.

Because from the beginning everything between us was just too different.

But--

Even so, I came to like you.

I pushed away from Shakuson, and for a third time brought up my gun.

"…"

This wasn't my first time shooting someone.

But…I guess this would be the first time I'd shoot while crying.

"…"

Shakuson didn't say anything.

He just looked at me with a kind expression.

Please--stop making such a face.

I knew the truth.

He wasn't the one at fault, nor was anyone else.

…It was me.

If only I hadn’t sunk that ship back then. If only I hadn’t killed anyone.

I'm sure things wouldn't have turned out this way.

Though I might regret it, I couldn’t go back to that day.

Shakuson--

I met you in spring.

Thinking on it now, maybe at that time I had already fallen in love with you.

In summer we made a lot of memories, on an autumn night we were joined.

And in this winter--we marked the end of everything.

The hammer raises, my index finger drawing close to the trigger.

That finger trembled slightly, but I couldn’t tell.

"I'm sorry…"

Those were my last words to you.

And--

In the end, you--

A dry gunshot rang out from beneath the cherry blossom tree.

…

……

It's alright, Shakuson.

Don't worry.

Because I'm sure I'll be able to see you soon.

I’m not making you go alone.

Because--

"Let's always be together"--

That's something we always said to each other, right?

The gun that shot Shakuson.

I turned the muzzle on my own temple.

--Once I’m gone, it will all be over.

I squeezed the trigger.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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master-sass-blast · 4 years

Text

Out With the Old, In With the New, Part One: The Worst Monsters are Men...

MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW (april 5th)!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE!!!!!

Summary: A few days into a mission, your husband goes missing. Along Wade, Nathan, and Neena. When the X-Men refuse to help you, you decide to take things into your own hands --and wind up making an unexpected ally along the way.

Rating: T for gun violence, regular violence, ableism, and abduction. And also swear words.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Frank Castle x Karen Page, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Set after "It's Truly Magical" but before "Children of the Gods, Part One."

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things

It happens without warning.

Your husband goes on a mission. And then he doesn’t come back.

Your stomach churns anxiously as you wait for your cellphone to chime –for any sign of life from Piotr, really. Baby, where are you? Please come home to me.

***

Talking to the official person in charge of the duty roster does no good.

Chiefly because that person is Scott Summers.

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re concerned—”

“It’s been three days, Scott! Piotr was supposed to be back by now.”

“He requested a mission extension,” Scott says –lies, because Scott Summers is a horrifically bad liar, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

(Not even those damn sunglasses he wears all the time helps conceal it.)

“If we don’t hear from him by tomorrow, we’ll start the retrieval protocol.”

You raise an eyebrow at Scott. “Piotr requested an extension.”

“Ye—”

“Without telling me he was requesting an extension.”

“He may have not wanted to worry you—”

“He texts me good night and good morning every day he’s gone, Scott. He hasn’t done that for three days. So, do you really want to keep going down this route, or do you want to tell me the truth?”

“Are you accusing me of—”

“Show me the extension request, Scott. I know those have to be filed in the mission logs.”

Scott goes pale, swallows hard, but ultimately holds his ground. “If we don’t hear from him in another twenty-four hours, we’ll start the retrieval protocol.”

You roll your eyes at his back as he quickly retreats away from you, then stalk out of the training room. “Fuck you. I’ll handle this myself. Idiot.”

***

You call Wade first. Nathan doesn’t always keep his phone charged if he gets into a work hole, meaning that Wade’s the best bet to get ahold of your ‘somehow knows everything’ dad.

Except you can’t get ahold of Wade. Or Nate. Or Neena, when you decide to try her. Countless texts, phone calls, emails, and face-time requests –which, under normal circumstances, would be downright sociopathic to pull without making sure the recipient is available first, but these are desperate times—go unanswered.

Towards the end of the day, in what can only be described as a burst of mass anxiety and paranoia, you call your uncle.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hey, punk. How’s it going?”

“Oh, thank fuck.” You collapse into the nearest chair, relief surging through you. “They didn’t get you, too.”

“What?” Your uncle’s voice goes from warm and friendly to all business –and a little panicked—in a split second. “Who didn’t get me? What’s going on? Punk, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but –Piotr’s missing. And Dad. And Wade. And Neena. Piotr went on a mission, but stopped checking in on me three days ago, and then when I tried to call the rest of my family, I couldn’t reach anyone. I’ve been trying all day, and then I thought that maybe someone’s targeting my family, so I decided to call you.”

“Shit,” your uncle mutters. “You’re sure Nathan and Wade are in town, right? And Neena? They don’t have any hits to fill or silent missions they’re running?”

“Wade and I were talking on Snapchat last night,” you answer, panic rising in your chest. “And I saw Nathan during call. And Neena always lets me know if she’ll be out of touch for a job or something.”

Your uncle exhales heavily into the speaker. “Fuck. Yeah, that doesn’t bode well. Did you talk to Charles?”

“He��s out of town for a conference. I had to deal with Scott, and he just shot me down.”

“Asshole.”

“Pretty much.”

“Talk to Scott one more time. I know it probably won’t help,” he adds when you start protesting, “but it’ll give me time to put my ear to the ground, see what I can find. After you try Scott, go over his head. I’ll help you however I can.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, punk. Now, get moving. Time’s of the essence here.”

“Right.” You make a quick goodbye, then run out of yours and Piotr’s home and fly towards the mansion.

***

By the time you reach Scott’s room, Russell, Ellie, and Yukio are already there, arguing with him.

“We aren’t responsible for Wade—”

“He’s my legal guardian, asshole,” Russell insists indignantly. “Isn’t there a bunch of legal shit you guys have to do if he dies or goes missing?”

“We—”

“And you are responsible for Colossus,” Ellie adds, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s my mentor and an X-Man. And he’s missing, too.”

“How did you—”

“He texts her to see how she’s doing,” Yukio pipes up, looking nowhere near as pissed as Ellie and Russell given her pink hair and soft, fluffy sweater, but frustration still reads plain in her voice. “And he stopped three days ago.”

“Which is the same time he stopped texting me,” you speak up, joining the fray. “Are you actually going to take this seriously now? Because if that’s not enough, Nathan and Neena are missing, too.”

A brief flicker of frustration crosses Scott’s face, but he masks it quickly. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve tried to reach them all day!”

“Maybe they’re just busy. Could you be overthinking it? Did you remember to take your medication today?”

“Are you shitting me?” Ellie snaps, eyes widening with outrage.

“Easy,” you murmur, putting an arm around her small shoulders before staring Scott down. “So, just so we’re clear, it is your intention to not pursue any of this further even though you have multiple complaints from different residents?”

Scott’s face twitches, but his resolve remains strong. “We have a protocol.”

“Yeah, just like that protocol of logging mission extension requests that you can’t show me right now.” You flash him a fake smile. “Thanks for nothing, asshole.”

The three teens follow after you as you storm off.

“What do we do now?” Russell asks.

“Are Cable and Domino really missing as well?” Yukio adds.

“Should we call the Professor?” Ellie suggests.

“The Professor probably wouldn’t be able to do anything, since Scott’s still the man in charge,” you say as you hurry down the main flight of stairs.

“He could make Cyclops toe the line,” Ellie points out.

“It’s still Scott. He’d do the bare minimum just to shut us up, then go back to jerking off –or whatever it he does for fun. And, yes, Neena and Nathan are missing, too. As far as I can tell, at least. As far as what we do now, we go over Scott’s head. I mean, I—” you turn around and look at the three teens staring at you “—go over Scott’s head. Not ‘we.’ You three should stay out of trouble.”

“But Wade’s my guardian!” Russell argues.

“And Piotr’s my mentor.”

“And Scott’s a pain in the ass,” Yukio adds.

“While all those things are true,” you agree, “that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t bring you three into this. Things could get dangerous. You’re all trainees. You’re not cleared for this kind of stuff.”

Ellie glances at Russell and her girlfriend, then crosses her arms over her chest and takes a step towards you. “Well, the way I see it, you can either bring the three of us in and have some idea of what we’re doing, or you can keep us out of it and we’ll just go over your head. Which means we could accidentally get caught in the middle of whatever you wind up doing and get hurt.”

You narrow your eyes at your husband’s mentee. “You are such a Slytherin, and I’m so proud of you, but also how dare you.” You sigh heavily. “Fine. You guys can come with. But if I get in trouble, I’m taking you all down with me.”

***

Fun fact: attached to every suit worn by X-Men and trainees are little GPS trackers that, in addition to letting you know where the wearer of the suit is, also keeps tabs on their vitals.

“Why didn’t you just try this to begin with?” Ellie asks as you pull up the interface that tracks the suits.

“Because it makes a pinging noise to alert the wearer that their location is being monitored,” you explain. “If they’re on a stealth mission, it could alert an enemy agent. I didn’t want to do that in case Piotr had needed to go silent for some reason.”

“Do you think he could’ve?” Russell asks.

“Considering that, as his spouse, I would’ve been notified by the mission board –not to mention he would’ve at least let Ellie or I know himself—and the fact that Wade, Nathan, and Neena are missing, to, I don’t think so.” As much of a pain in the ass as Scott is, if Piotr had actually gone silent, he wouldn’t have just not told you.

“I thought the mission board and Professor Xavier were the only ones with access to the trackers,” Yukio interjects.

“I have spousal permissions for Piotr’s suit.” You pull up the page that lets you enter a password so you can access the tracker, then turn around and face the teens. “I’ve got to enter the password. No peeking.” You wait until they all cover their eyes, then type in the password and hit enter.

“It’s ‘myshka,’” Ellie says without uncovering her eyes.

You whirl around to stare at her. “Hey!”

“You hit seven keys, one of which was the enter button.”

“You really should talk to Colossus about better password security,” Yukio says with an earnest nod.

You sigh (they’re not wrong), then focus on the computer screen.

The good news: your husband’s tracker is still on and still registering his vitals –which look healthy, as far as you can tell.

The bad news: it’s out in the middle of nowhere in Upstate New York. No nearby roads, no registered address, just a couple of GPS coordinates.

“Where the hell is that?” Russell asks as he peers at the laptop screen over your shoulder.

“A couple hours from here,” you say as you write down the coordinates and the nearest identifiable landmarks. “I’m gonna go check it out. You guys stay here—”

“We’re helping whether you like it or not,” Ellie interrupts, expression comically stern given her round face and rounder eyes.

“Yes, you are, but I can’t carry all of you with me,” you say. “Besides, I need you three here to collect information.”

Russell’s brow furrows. “What information?”

You send a quick text to your uncle to let him know you’re leaving the phone with Russell, Ellie, and Yukio, then hand it to Ellie. “I called my uncle when I realized Wade, Nathan, and Neena were missing, too. He’s looking into all of it for me. If he calls with any information, I’ll need you guys to take it down and possibly do some –computer only—research on it.”

“Won’t you need the burner phone, just in case you get captured?” Yukio asks.

You shake your head. “Can’t risk his number getting in the wrong hands. I’ll have my phone on me, and I’ll wear my suit so you can keep track of me. If I’m gone longer than six hours, or if my suit goes offline, call my uncle immediately. Not the Professor, not Scott, but my uncle. Okay?”

The three teens give you equally scared looks, but all nod anyway.

You hug each of them before flying upstairs to get changed and pack a small bag with some supplies. Hang on, honey. I’m coming.

***

The coordinates turn out to be home to the middle of a massive, matte black warehouse with virtually no windows in the middle of a dense forest. There’s only one road leading in or out, which is cut off from the warehouse itself by towering concrete walls topped with razor wire, a hulking gate with multiple guards, and several armed men patrolling the perimeter as well.

Definitely not suspicious at all. Definitely does not read as “hidden government or evildoers base” whatsoever.

Scott Summers, you are so full of shit, you think to yourself as you peer down at the warehouse through a pair of electronic binoculars (a Christmas gift from Alexandra). Requested an extension, my ass. You frown as you watch a large, but otherwise non-descript van get waved through the gate. Piotr, baby, what did you do to wind up in here?

Your mind flashes to images of Piotr, bound against his well, likely being experimented on by various nefarious, white lab coat and nerd glasses wearing scientists. Your teeth grit together, and you steady yourself with a deep breath. Just hang in there, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out.

You crawl forward a little further, hoping to get a better look at the lot surrounding the warehouse—

And you wind up bumping into a large, muscular woman, wearing all black –like you—with black hair cut into an angled bob, dark eyes, and—

Angel Dust.

Your eyes widen when the description connects with the stories Wade’s told you, and you quickly shove her away from you with a blast of air. “You fucking traitor! Helping lock up your own kind for a fucking bullshit paycheck! I’m gonna beat your ass—”

“What the fuck –stop it!” She whips a rock the size of a small child at you, narrowly missing your head. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who the fuck are you?”

“You’re working with them!” You jerk your head towards the warehouse.

“The fuck I am!” She finally notes your suit, and her mouth twists into a grimace. “Oh. You’re X-Men.”

“Damn right. Now, give me one good reason not to bounce you down this hill like a beach ball!”

Angel Dust smirks. “You’re a little rougher around the edges than most of them…” The smirk fades just as quickly as it appeared, and the color seems to drain from her face. “Fuck, you’re Wilson’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Ding-ding-ding, bitch!” you hiss. “And if you aren’t here to work for those cockwipes, then what the fuck are you doing on this hill?”

“I could ask you the fucking same—”

“Look, unlike my brother, I don’t have to get close to you to hit you. So, unless you want to go through that line of trees, I suggest you start talking.”

She rolls her eyes, but relents. “I’m here to rescue my daughter.”

“Daughter?” Your face scrunches up in confusion. “Wade didn’t say anything about you having a daughter.”

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t fucking know!”

“I suppose that’s fair –considering you helped torture him and almost killed him, then helped kidnap his girlfriend!”

“Fuck’s sake –the fuck do you want from me?”

“Proving you have a daughter and that you aren’t lying might be a good start.”

She glowers at you, then begrudgingly takes a wallet out of her pocket and pulls out a few pictures. “Here. Proof enough?”

The pictures show Angel Dust holding a young girl –first as a baby, then a couple shots of them at a park when the girl looks about to be three, one of them eating ice cream together when the kid looks about five, and a school photo headshot dated from this year, in which the girl looks to be around seven.

Granted, she could be lying, but the pictures look real enough. Besides, if she really was working with the warehouse people, she probably wouldn’t have tried to convince you otherwise in the first place.

“What’s her name?” you ask, stiffly hanging back the pictures.

“Madeline. Maddie, for short. Why are you here?”

“They have my husband.”

“He an X-Man, too?”

“Yeah. Colossus. The big metal guy that you punched in the dick.”

She smirks. “Oh, yeah. Good brawler. Kinda sweet. He refused to ogle me when one of my tits fell out of my shirt.”

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “That’d be him.”

Tense silence falls around the two of you as you regard each other warily.

“Far be it from me to suggest we team up,” you start.

Angel Dust cuts you off with a sardonic snort. “What makes you think I need –want—your help?”

“You won’t make it through there alone. They’ve basically got an army guarding that place. You’re strong, but you’re not bulletproof. Or, worse, you’ll wind up captured. Besides, I have backup.”

She raises an incredulous eyebrow. “What, the X-Men? Pass.”

“No,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “The schedule master didn’t want to get off his ass, so I’m working without them for this.”

“Sounds like you don’t have backup, then.”

You bite down on the urge to sneer at her. “I have more resources than the X-Men.” Asshole.

“Such as?”

“Such as the kind that don’t mind using real guns.” When Angel Dust’s eyebrows spike towards her hairline, you continue. “Look, I get my husband and my other people out, you get your daughter out, everyone goes home happy and hopefully we never have to speak to each other again. Deal?”

“Fine,” she says after a minute. “So, if we’re not breaking in right now, what’s next?”

“I’ve got some people looking into this place. They should have some proper information by now. We head back to my place, learn what we can, then make plans to bust into here later tonight.”

Angel Dust considers for a moment, then concedes with a nod. “Fine. Wait… how’d you get out here?”

You shrug. “Flew.”

She scoffs, rolls her eyes. “Of course. We’ll take my car back.”

***

You text Yukio once you’re safely in Angel Dust’s car—

“Do you have a name?”

“Fuck kind of question is that?”

“I only know you as Angel Dust,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “So, unless you want me to refer to you as ‘Angel Dust’ all the time, having a name to use would be handy.”

She sighs heavily. Rolls her eyes. “Christina.”

You blink. You’re not sure what you’d been expecting, honestly. “Cool. I’m Y/N.”

“Great. Glad we’re fucking best friends now,” Christina grumbles under her breath as she starts her car and pulls away from the thicket of bushes she’d parked her car behind.

You text Yukio, letting her know that you’re on your way back, that you’ve picked up some help, and that if you aren’t back in three hours to call your uncle. You pocket your phone once Yukio replies, then steal a quick glance at Christina.

All in all, you don’t know much about her. You heard about her and her whole involvement with Ajax –Francis, whatever—from Wade, and you’ve heard a little bit from Piotr about her other criminal escapades –car-jacking, fighting rings, blackmailing—but beyond that, Angel Dust –Christina—is a complete mystery to you.

“How’d your daughter wind up in there?” you ask, breaking the thick silence that had settled around the two of you.

Her jaw clenches tighter, and her hands grip the steering wheel hard enough that –for a moment—you’re worried that she might break it. “My ex.”

“You had a kid with Francis?”

Her hands grip the wheel tighter. “No. I was married before I met Ajax. Long time before. Had Maddie. Got divorced. Met Ajax a little while later.”

“Riveting,” you snark, which gets a murderous glare shot your way. “So, what, your ex-husband decided to do a ‘take your daughter to work day’ and it ended poorly?”

“He doesn’t like mutants. Part of why we divorced.”

Pain strikes your chest as you put the pieces together. “Wait a second. He… he sent his own child to a testing facility?”

“Like I said,” Christina growls as she presses down harder on the gas pedal, “there’s a reason he’s my ex.”

***

Ellie goes from hunched over your laptop to standing bolt upright, fists clenched and energy swirling around her the second Christina follows you through the door—

And, yeah, okay, you definitely should’ve given more warning about the “help” that you were bringing back.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Ellie snaps.

Christina just smirks. “Good to see you again, short stack.”

“Ellie, please don’t obliterate my house,” you say quickly, stepping between Ellie and Christina before Ellie does something rash –albeit probably deserved. “She’s helping us.”

“Why is she—” Ellie jerks her chin towards Christina “—helping us? She’s a criminal!”

“She has someone that was captured, too,” you explain, doing your best to stay calm. “The more innocent lives we can save in all of this, the better.”

“Fucking Christ,” Christina grumbles under her breath. “It’s like the fucking boyscouts.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Icebox?” Ellie snaps, still glaring down Christina –albeit without the energy charge-up, which you’re grateful for.

“I wasn’t deemed ‘dangerous enough’ for ‘removal from society.’”

“You kidnapped an innocent woman and nearly killed Colossus!”

She shrugs, blasé. “Paycheck’s a paycheck.”

“You fucking bitch—”

“Okay!” You shove Ellie back, and give her the sternest look you can muster at the moment –which, in reality, probably looks more desperate than anything else. “I know you’re mad, but we have a job to do. Can you…” You sigh when Ellie raises an eyebrow at you in challenge, and your expression is definitely desperate now. “Please, Ellie-bell. We need to get Piotr and Wade and Nate and Neena and anyone else they might have locked up out of there. Please.”

Ellie sighs heavily, but relents with a nod. “Fine. But if she—” she points at Christina, who smirks “—does anything out of line, I’m blasting her through a wall.”

“I’d comment, but I know you’re more than capable,” Christina mutters as she sizes up Yukio and Russell. “Also, if this was the back up you’re talking about—”

“It’s part of it, but they’re strictly the research team,” you interject quickly. “We’re bringing someone else along for the actual rescue mission.”

“Who?” Russell asks.

You shoot him a warning, incredibly desperate look to ‘please, for the love of Cthulhu, shut it’ because you haven’t actually figured that part out yet—

And then Yukio comes to your rescue. “Your uncle called while you were gone. He said he wanted you to call him as soon as you were back.”

“He also gave us a lot of information about the warehouse,” Russell adds, having caught on to your ‘please help me bullshit my through this.’ “Covered by ten different teams of armed men that work on five different shifts—”

You glance over your shoulder at Christina. “You mind looking through what we already have while I make the call?”

She sighs, rolls her eyes, but ultimately sits down at the dining room table. “Fine.”

You take your phone from Yukio, then step into the living room so you can talk to your uncle while also keeping an eye on Christina.

He answers on the first ring. “Who am I talking to this time?”

“It’s me. I’m safe.”

“Punk.” Your uncle lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, I told Ellie everything I could fine, but listen to me. You cannot try to crack this place open, okay? The person running this operation is far too dangerous to mess with. I’m sending some people in to help, and I’ll fly in as soon as I can; just let the professionals handle this, okay?”

You grimace. “I can’t do that.”

“Okay, look, I know you’re worried about Piotr—”

“There’s a kid involved,” you say quietly, watching Christina intently. “A little girl. She was dumped at the holding center. I… I can’t wait. Not with a child’s safety on the line.”

Your uncle swears, then sighs. “…Okay. Just… take some heavier ammunition with you. Please. I’ll get there as fast as I can to help back you up.”

“Alright. I can do that.” You make a quick good-bye, then head back into the dining room. “Alright, what are we looking at?”

“Nothing good,” Christina says heavily. “You were right about not being able to break into this place. We’ll need an army to do just that.”

“…I might just be able to get us one.”

***

The new offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page come with countless new amenities –one of which being that it’s not located inside a deli.

There’s also a dedicated “back entrance” for clients that don’t want to be –or shouldn’t be—seen by the public.

Which, as fortune would have it, is where you find Frank Castle.

He’s wearing all black, carrying a bouquet of violets, and looks extremely startled when you all but shout his name. “What the fuck?”

“I need your help,” you say by way of greeting as you jog over to him. “Kidnappers, mutant experimentation, guys with lots of guns… yeah.”

“What the—” Christina yanks you aside with more strength than strictly necessarily, eyes so big they look like they’re about to pop out of her sockets. “How do you know the fucking Punisher?”

“Will you let go?” You wrench your arm out of her grasp. “I’m getting us an army. Chill the fuck out!”

“Do I get to know what’s going on here?” Frank interjects, looking equal parts confused, startled, and annoyed.

“There’s a warehouse two and a half hours from here,” you explain. “Heavily guarded. Piotr was kidnapped and taken there, as was her daughter.” You nod to Christina. “Wade, Nathan, and Neena are missing, too, and I’m willing to bet they’re there as well –along with who knows how many other people. The X-Men aren’t getting off their ass for this one, and the two of us—” you gesture between you and Christina “—aren’t enough to break in and get everyone out. We need help.” You take a breath, then shoot Frank a desperate look and add, “Please.”

He exhales heavily, then nods before gesturing at the door with the flowers. “Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

***

Karen, fortunately, gives her blessing for you to borrow her boyfriend for a potential suicide mission without too much fuss. Frank steps back into the alley a few minutes later, grabs a few duffels from his “murder van,” then directs you to where he keeps the rest of his weapons stash before you drive him and Christina back to your home.

From there, two things happen right away.

One: Frank is immediately able to make more sense of the information your uncle had sent, which makes developing a plan so much easier.

Two: Russell, Ellie, and Yukio all refuse to stay behind while you, Frank, and Christina head to the warehouse.

“For the last time,” you grit out, on the verge of ripping out your hair. “I cannot take you three with me. You’re all trainees! You’re not cleared for something like this. Besides, if Piotr doesn’t kill me, Scott definitely will!”

“You could take Scott in a fight,” Yukio says with an earnest nod.

“That’s not the point!”

“The point is we want to help.” Russell crosses his arms over his chest. “Wade’s my friend and guardian, Colossus is one of our teachers, and Cable and Domino are part of the X-Force. They’re our friends. Why shouldn’t we help?”

“I really don’t know how to explain to you that you’re a minor.”

“Yukio and I aren’t,” Ellie pipes up, voice deadly calm. “We’re both adults. We can do whatever we want with this. And I have a license and access to a car.”

“Ellie—”

“Look, either we’re in on the plan and how to handle all of this, or we drive up on our own and insert ourselves into the situation.” She raises an eyebrow at you when you start sputtering. “What? What are you going to do? Duct tape us to the walls so we can’t leave?”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I’m seriously tempted to. There is such a thing as ‘being in over you head,’ and –make no mistake—this is one of those situations.”

Ellie’s jaw tenses. “We’re not staying behind.”

“For what it’s worth,” Frank interjects from where he’s been sitting at your dining room table, pouring over all the data your uncle was able to collect, “if they can help us, we could definitely use their help. We’re pretty damn outnumbered.”

“See!” Russell chimes in. “You need us!”

“That’s not the point!” you snap, nerves finally fraying enough to let your stress show through.

“It’s exactly the point!” Ellie argues. “You need extra help, we want to help!”

“That’s not the point Y/N is trying to make,” Yukio says when you grip your hair in frustration. “It may be the point of the mission, but it’s not what she’s focused on.”

You exhale heavily as silence finally falls, then lean wearily against the dining room table. “It’s not that we don’t need your help. We do. But… you’re just kids.”

“Yukio and I are eighteen,” Ellie points out.

“You are an infant and you will accept it!” you fire back. “This… this isn’t fighting Magneto or a few punk frat boys who just realized they have superpowers. These are trained assassins with guns and who knows what else and… you guys still deserve to be young. You deserve more time before you have to face that.”

The space goes suffocatingly silent as your words hang in the air, bitter and desperate.

Because, really, you all already know what’s going to happen.

“We’re ready,” Yukio says, quiet but confident. She squares her shoulders and gives you a smile. “This is what we’ve trained to do.”

“You already know what my stance is,” Ellie says when you look over to her.

Russell seems a little more pensive when you check with him, but he doesn’t waver, either. He swallows hard, then nods. “I want to help Wade. He’s my guardian… my friend.”

You sigh, heavy and with finality, then plop down into the nearest chair. “Alright. Let’s make a plan.”

***

The plan is simple enough.

Your uncle had managed to dig up a plethora of information –including the policy for dealing with “captured individuals.” Anyone caught snooping around the warehouse was taken, searched for weapons, then taken to a room that was labelled “primary containment area.”

You’re willing to bet that Piotr and everyone will be there as well.

So, you and Christina will pose as a couple of amateur activists, attempting to get some film of what seemed to be a “secret military base” that was undoubtedly propagating violence, war culture, etcetera. You two will get yourselves captured, get inside the base, ditch whoever brought you in, find your missing people, then get out.

And, just for good measure, while the two of you were inside, Frank, Russell, Ellie, and Yukio will create a distraction outside, thus increasing your odds of success.

Frank also had one of his friends –who was some type of tech wizard, apparently—hack into the base and put the cameras on a loop, so that the two of you wouldn’t be caught out right away.

Is it the most sophisticated plan? No.

Is it the most likely to succeed, considering the circumstances? Also no.

Is it the best you all could do, considering the time and personnel constraints? Yes.

“If we die,” Christina growls –she’d been none too fond of the plan, but hadn’t had a better counteroffer—as the two of you cut through the woods, “I’m killing you before these dipshits get a chance.”

“Good fucking luck with that,” you grumble back, pulling a camera –which had a busted release mechanism for the SD card and was therefore useless—out of your bag. “Ready?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The two of you skulk around the perimeter, pretending to take film of the place –which, granted, you are, but it’s not like you’re planning on using any of it—and talking in stage whispers about angles, lighting, and framing. When that doesn’t work, you move in closer to the entry –where the guards are stationed—and start taking photos with the flash on.

It gets their attention pretty quick.

“Hey! Stop!”

The two of you feign making a run for it as the armed guards rush towards you, then switch to fake pleas and promise to “give up the footage” in exchange for being let go when you’re caught.

“Look, this is just for a school project,” Christina babbles –and, you have to give her credit, she’s a good actress.

Though, that could just be the guns the guards are carrying providing a proper incentive.

“We’ll give you the camera,” you add, faking desperation. “Just, like, please let us go.”

“Take them inside,” one of the older looking guards says. “Search them, then take them to the main containment center.”

You and Christina pretend to resist and struggle, but ultimately let the men march you past the wall and towards the compound.

***

The search goes well enough. The two of you had made a point to not carry any weapons –or any IDs, just in case. Your phones –fakes—are tossed, as is the camera, but other than that the guards don’t find anything particularly interesting.

Being taken to the main containment area, however, doesn’t go as well.

Mostly because your people aren’t there.

“Shit,” Christina swears when you’re marched into what’s essentially a windowless, metal box.

“Search the base?” you ask.

“We have to.”

You slam the guards against the nearest wall with a gust of wind, knocking them out.

The two of you quickly handcuff the guards with their hands behind their backs, careful to interlock the sets of cuffs to make it harder for them to move or escape once they come to.

You strip off one of their tac vest and quickly adjust it to your body, while Christina pulls out their phones and walkie talkies and crushes them. “I’m guessing neither of them are carrying a map?”

“Wouldn’t that be our lucky day.”

You pull out an ear piece that you’d hidden in your bra, then turn it on and tuck it in your ear. “Ellie, can you hear me?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Slight problem. Containment area’s empty. Is there a lab or something labelled on the blueprints my uncle sent us?”

“…Yeah. Left from the entrance to the containment room, take a right at the second doorway, then all the way down the hall to the back. Do you need us to go now?”

You eye the hallway outside the containment room, then grimace when you see several guards patrolling the space. “Yeah. We’re pretty boxed in otherwise.”

“Alright. Give us five minutes.”

The two of you wait –then, sure enough, the building shudders as a loud explosion echoes outside.

You flash Christina a somewhat manic grin. “Shall we?”

“You’re just as crazy as Wilson.”

“You’re not the first person to say that.”

***

The lab is straight out of some cheesy action-flick style evil lair. There’s a massive –practically floor to ceiling—screen that looks like someone lifted it from a movie theatre that’s framed by a wall to wall bank of computer keys, buttons, smaller inset display screens, dials, and sliders. The center of the room boasts a particularly sinister tilted metal table with arm and ankle restraints on the sides, an operation room light at the top, and various trays of syringes, surgical equipment, and other tools. Towards the back, there’s several rows of tables with various beakers, test tubes, and other items straight out of chemistry textbook.

And, on the wall opposite the door, there are a series of cylindrical, glass holding containers –which are currently housing your husband, Nate, Wade, Neena, and a young, dark haired girl that must be Madeline.

Madeline and Piotr don’t look too much worse for wear. A little bruised and a little tired, perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.

Neena’s face is fixed in a tight grimace. You don’t see any visible signs of harm on her, but that doesn’t mean that she’s okay.

Wade looks sick. He has a repression collar on, just like everyone else in the holding tanks, so there’s no doubt that his cancer is giving him hell.

Nathan looks tense. He’s sat on the floor of his tank, leaned back against the glass, gaze fixed in a pensive thousand mile stare. There’s no visible signs of the virus having spread, but you know he can’t be feeling too comfortable, either.

Madeline visibly perks up when you and Christina enter the lab, then jumps to the feet and presses her tiny body against the glass of her tank. “Mommy!”

“Mom—oh fuck.” Wade glares at Christina. “What is she doing here? And since when did you have a kid with Francis?”

Christina, predictably, ignores Wade. She sprints over to her daughter’s containment tube, pressing her hands flat against the glass. “Hey, sweetie. Are you okay?”

Madeline’s face crumples, and she starts crying. “I want to go home, Mommy. I want to go home—”

“Don’t!” Neena exclaimed when Christina moved to rip off the door on her daughter’s containment cell. “The guy running the tests said there was a different lock on her door.” She pointed to the keypad on the side of Madeline’s containment tube. “He said that if the cell was tampered with, it’d release a toxin gas.”

Christina shot a desperate look at you over her shoulder. “Can you diffuse the gas?”

“I don’t want to risk it,” you said. “Look, Ellie can probably figure out to get it open safely, and if she can’t, we’ve got other people who definitely can. Bottom line, she’s not staying in there for long.”

Piotr shoot you a sharp look. “Why is NTW here?”

You flounder, before shrugging sheepishly. “I got out-voted?”

“It’s going to be okay, sweet girl.” Christina knelt in front of her daughter’s tube, smiling reassuringly. “We’re going to get you out, okay?”

“Can you get the doors off the other cells?” you ask upon checking to make sure that the same locking mechanisms aren’t on the other containment tubes. “If we get everyone else out, I can get the repression collars off, and then we can shut this thing down and focus on getting Maddie out.”

Christina shoots you a look –most likely annoyed by being taken away from her daughter—but rises and walks down the row of cells, ripping the doors off as she goes and chucking them out of the way.

You help Wade out of his cell and get him situated on a chair—

And then Piotr sweeps you into his arms and presses his lips against yours.

He smells a little ripe, his breath isn’t much better, he has a few days’ worth of stubble on his face, and his hair is a mess.

He’s perfect.

“Are you okay?” you murmur, cupping his face when the kiss ends.

“I am now.” He kisses your forehead. “How did you find me?”

“Went over Scott’s head, used the tracker on your suit, and asked my uncle for help.” You lay your head against his chest, and close your eyes for a moment as you listen to the steady thud of his heartbeat.

He’s safe. He’s alive.

***

Getting the collars off is a cinch. They’re basic model collars with keypads. You’ve taken shit like this apart in your sleep.

The building rumbles ominously while you work on defusing the collars, and the sounds of gunfire and death are rapidly approaching the lab.

Piotr eyes the door warily. “What all is going on?”

“Uh… kinda asked Frank for some help.”

Your husband’s eyes damn near bug out of his head. “Frank Castle?”

“Ooh, Frankie’s here!” Wade chirps, perking up now that his collar’s off and his healing factor is kicking back in. “Did he bring any grenades?”

“Why did you ask Frank Castle for help?” Piotr interjects, sounding aghast.

“What else was I going to do?” you exclaim. “Scott literally wouldn’t get off his ass to check in on things. It was either do it alone, or get what help I could!”

Piotr looks like he’s about to drop it –then his eyes widen with horror. “You… you left trainees with him.”

Fucking shit on an ass cracker— “Look, I will be very happy to discuss this with you later, but for now can we just focus on—”

A door at the far end of the lab sweeps open –not the one you and Christina came in through—and a man wearing a lab coat walks in.

A man that, though it takes you a moment, you recognize.

Mostly because you slammed his head into a table and threatened to rip off his balls if he ever hurt your husband again.

Rage floods your system. “You!”

Dwight Bard –stupid fucking nickname “Rogue”—jerks when he sees all of you, then pales when recognition hits his system. “Oh shit—”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, much less escape or do anything else. You hit him in the back with a blast of wind, bouncing him across the floor of the lab and smacking him against the metal table. You dash over, secure one of his arms in one of the restraints before he can get up, then grab the first thing you find on the tool tray –which happens to be a scalpel—and aim it at him. “I fucking warned you, you son of a bitch. I’m gonna gut you like a fucking catfish—”

“Myshka!” Piotr plucks you up and sets you away from the table before physically putting himself between you and Dwight. “Stop!”

You take one look at your husband’s horrified expression and shrink in on yourself, ashamed. “I’m not—” You try to gesture with your hand, forgetting that you have the scalpel, and nearly nick Piotr with it. You flounder as you try to find a place to set the utensil, then ultimately hand it over to Piotr so he can set back on the instrument tray. “He’s—”

“No killing,” Piotr says, voice soft but firm. “Ever. Under any circumstances.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find the words to explain your headspace.

That Dwight isn’t worth saving because he’s perverted and hasn’t stopped the track he’s on despite having the chance to change and more than enough incentive –can anyone say ‘staying out of prison,’ much—to do so. That killing people recklessly and without thought is bad, but that defending those who can’t defend themselves is another category. That you weren’t even intending to really do anything, but he helped hurt the people you love, that he’s hurt your husband –the most important person in your life—over and over and over again, and you can’t live in a world knowing that person is out there and could hurt him again.

Ultimately, you shrug helplessly and say, “He hurt you.”

An emotion settles on Piotr’s face that you can’t identify. (Grief? Anguish? Fear? A combination of all three, or maybe none of them at all?) He stares at you for a moment, expression inscrutable, then gently takes you into his arms and kisses the top of your head. “I do not want you killing for me.”

You nestle against his chest –then break away when Dwight starts trying to get the restraint off his wrist. “Oh, no, no, no. Just because I’m not force-feeding you your balls doesn’t mean you get a free pass.” You finish restraining his arms and legs, then flip the overhead light on so he has to keep his eyes closed for good measure. “You can just stay right there until we’re ready to drag you out of here and back to jail.”

The door that you and Christina originally entered through opens, and Ellie, Russell, Yukio, and Frank walk through.

You nod at Madeline’s containment cell. “There’s a special lock on this one. Can you get it open?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ellie says, checking over the locking mechanism before walking over to the bank of computers.

“Building’s clear,” Frank says, momentarily eyeing Dwight before turning his attention to Madeline and Christina. “What’s going on there?”

“Special lock,” you explain, paraphrasing what Neena told you. “Improperly opening the chamber releases a neurotoxin gas.”

Frank’s lip curls into a menacing sneer as he stalks towards Dwight. “You think that’s fun? Putting a little girl’s life in the balance?”

“It wasn’t me!” Dwight panics, trying –and failing—to edge himself away from Frank. “I’m just –look, I’m just a scientist, I had no idea—”

“You’ve got a kid a tube!” Frank shouts. “It doesn’t get more fucking obvious!”

“Okay, okay, just –look. The building’s not clear yet.”

“The hell it isn’t—”

“They had teams on standby, down the road, in case the place was stormed.”

The lights flicker, then turn off before flipping back on—

And then an explosion goes off outside, making the building shake and the windows rattle in their settings.

Frank tenses, then swears under his breath when more explosions sound outside. “Shit.”

“Sounds like we’ve got company,” Wade comments as he stretches lazily (the movement is accompanied by a grimace, though, which is how you know he’s still not feeling good). “Got a gun I can borrow?”

“Best move right now is to handle the team outside,” Nathan agrees as Frank hands them both spare pistols. “You three stay back here.” He nods to the teens. “Get the kid out. The rest of us will hold the base.”

Madeline bursts into tears when Christina takes a reluctant step away from her daughter’s containment cell. “Mommy, I want you to stay! I’m scared!”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Christina reassures her quickly. “It’s okay—”

“Stay with her,” you decide. “We don’t have enough weapons for you to use, which means your strength won’t be an advantage out there.”

Christina mouths a grateful “thank you” at you, then sits at the base of her daughter’s cell. “It’s going to be okay, Maddie. Mommy’s right here.”

“What about Neena?” Russell asks as the rest of you prepare to head out. “She doesn’t have a gun.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about finding one,” Neena quips, flashing Russell a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

You want to take her aside, ask her if she’s okay –the explosions are still ongoing, meaning that right now, you’ve got more important things to do.

Frank reloads his rifle, then strides towards the main lab door. “Let’s go.”

***

The lot of you make swift progress through the base. Frank and Nate lead you all with military-like precision –go figure—and before you know it, you’re at the main entrance.

The explosions are still going, rocking and rattling the building with each shockwave. The lights flicker ominously overhead each time; a few fall out and shatter against the floor.

Piotr shields you with his body when one lands near the two of you. “What now?”

“You know how many people are out there?” Frank asks Nathan.

Your dad shakes his head. “The number of psychic signatures keeps changing. Maybe… twenty-five? Thirty? They keep bouncing around the lot.”

“We’ve handled worse,” Neena decides as she loads her shotgun (which, true to form, she’d stumbled across while you’d all navigated the base).

“Wait, wait –Natey, hold on a second.” Wade grabs his boyfriend’s arm, holding Nathan back from moving (even though Nate stopped the first time Wade asked him to wait). “Do you not hear what I’m not hearing?”

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank grumbles under his breath.

Nathan cocks his head to the side though, gaze darting back and forth while he listens. “Gunfire. Voices.”

“Exactly!”

Frank’s expression sharpens as he catches the same lack of gunfire and people talking. “They could be trying to draw us out. We’ve got a chokepoint here.”

“Yeah, but why would they be bombing the parking lot they’re standing in?” Neena fires back.

“Should one of us go out?” Wade asks, looking between Frank, Nate, and Neena. “Scope things out?”

“If there are people waiting out there, we’ll get shot to pieces!” Neena exclaims.

“Okay, I can heal!” Wade fires back. “So, if you hear swearing and sounds of carnage—”

“No, no, we are not using you as a fucking guinea pig,” Nathan growls.

“Well, what would you recommend—”

“I’ll go,” Piotr interjects.

“What?” You blink rapidly as he kisses your forehead, then reach for him when he stands and steps away so he can armor up. “No! No—”

“It’s okay.” Your dad puts an arm around your shoulder, equal parts comforting and restraining. “He’ll be okay.”

Piotr ducks around the corner and strides towards the entrance –stooping over so he doesn’t bang his head on the ceiling. The sound of his heavy footsteps clank against the floor, barely audible over the explosions outside.

You listen to your husband’s step retreat away from you, scarcely daring to breathe. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…

There’s a moment where the explosions stop, and the ensuing silence stretches out, unending and horrible—

“No one is out here.”

You let out a breath, nearly collapsing with relief when you hear Piotr’s voice—

And then what he said hits you.

Frank stalks out, rifle at the ready in case shit goes sideways. He’s quiet for a moment, then shouts out an “all clear.”

You shadow the others out, mindful that you don’t have a gun or near as much combat experience. You sidle up next to your husband, one hand clutching at the material of his X-Men suit.

The explosions, at least, were real. The lot looked scorched, pitted with craters and dotted with debris and chunks of concrete.

That’s where the legitimacy of Dwight’s claims seem to end, though. There’s no sign of any opposition, armed, dangerous, or otherwise.

“Was he wrong?” you ask as Frank, Wade, Nate, and Neena carefully scope out the lot. “Maybe… maybe there’s no back up.”

“There is car coming,” Piotr announces, quickly tucking you behind his back.

The others hop to, taking up different positions around the lot to set up the best spread of gunfire possible.

You peek around your husband’s side as much as you dare, trying to get a read on the situation.

A lone SUV rolls up to the gate of the compound. It doesn’t seem armored, much less like it could hold the amount of guys your dad was initially sensing in the lot…

The SUV parks just inside the gate, and then the driver’s door opens and Mikhail Rasputin steps out. He grins laconically at Piotr, and lifts a hand in greeting. “Poves'te desyat', mladshiy brat!”

Piotr gapes as his mother exits the front passenger side of the SUV, whilst Mikhail ambles around to the back of the car to open the trunk. “Matushka?”

She’s decked out in black tactical gear and combat boots, and looks ready to kill.

(Granted, Alexandra always looks ready to kill, but the expression is more literal than figurative this time around.)

She graces her son with a brief, greeting smile, but quickly steps into scanning the surrounding environment for potential threats. Alex eyes the craters in the lot with a critical eye, one brow arching as she takes it all in. “Big fight?”

“Not really,” Wade says with a shrug. “Lots of explosions, but when we got out here there was no one around.”

You frown, stepping out from behind Piotr. “What are you two doing here?”

“Sent by uncle,” Mikhail says, nodding at you with a smile that’s entirely too relaxed for the scope of the situation. “To help.”

“Well, I think we’ve got it under control,” Wade says, gesturing at the parking lot.

“For now,” Alex tacks on as she eyes the building. “Man running this place is highly dangerous. Sooner we leave, the better. Is this everyone?”

“There are others inside,” Piotr says, eyes widening with realization. “Ellie, and Yukio, and Russell, and—”

The ground shakes again, and then there’s an explosion that sends chunks of concrete wall flying from the back side of the compound.

You stare at the plume of fire and smoke that billows into the sky, heart sinking. Shit.

***

The lab, once you arrive, is in complete and utter chaos. Tables are strewn everywhere, glass equipment lies shattered on the floor, and a gaping hole gashes through one of the internal walls.

At the far end of the lab is Dwight –who, somehow, has managed to free himself and is grinning as he hovers above the ground. He extends his hand towards the opposite side of the room, flinging several heavy work tables that are deflected by Christina and Ellie.

“He’s a mutant!” Ellie shouts, pointing an accusing finger at Dwight before dodging more flying debris. “He has to be! He undid his restraints without even touching them!”

“Sorry for the deception,” Dwight says, grinning nastily—

And then his body ripples, changing size and form until he’s several inches taller and nowhere near as gangly. His face morphs hideously, hair going from tight auburn curls to slicked back black tresses. His eyes change from hazel to gray, his jawline sharpens, and by the end of it he looks less like some sort of computer tech pervert and more like a rugged assassin.

“Someone fucking promise me we’re not about to go down another ‘it was Mystique the whole time’ writing hole,” Wade groans as he skids to a stop, then ducks to avoid shards of flying glass. “Because I can’t handle another plot headache like that.”

“Name’s Nathaniel. Nathaniel Essex.” Nathaniel tosses Dwight’s glasses aside, smirking laconically. “So, no, no Mystique storyline here. Though, that might’ve been better for the rest of you.”

“How you figure, Captain Chameleon?” Wade fires back. “Don’t know if you forgot how to count, but there are…” Wade starts counting, then gets fed up with the process and settles for cocking his gun and aiming it at Nathaniel. “You’re fucking outnumbered, shit for brains! Best surrender now, and maybe I won’t fuck your ass with the business end of this gun!”

“You do, you’re buying me a new one, Wilson!” Frank snaps.

“Do you accept stolen?”

“The way I see it, my odds are just fine.” Nathaniel smirks, and several pieces of broken tables and twisted metal start floating around him. “Don’t worry. I’ll try to keep from hurting you too bad.” He hurls the objects across the lab—

Only for them to freeze halfway across.

Nathaniel’s face goes slack with shock. “What the—”

Alexandra steps out from behind Piotr, eyes glowing gold as she stares down Nathaniel. “Care to try again, tupitsa?”

Nathaniel grits his teeth and tries to fling more carnage across the lab, but to no avail. “Go fuck yourself, bitch.”

Alex raises an eyebrow, then shrugs. “Have it your way.”

And then the items floating in the air zip across the lab. Those that don’t bounce of the telekinetic shield Nathaniel erects around himself embed themselves in the opposing wall.

“We need to get Maddie out of here!” you shout. “Ellie, can’t you disarm the pod?”

“I couldn’t find anything that disables the gas system!”

You’re starting to think that the supposed “toxic gas” attached to Maddie’s containment tube was a lie as well –but, best not to take chances.

“We’ll figure it out once we take down Essex,” you shout before darting towards where Alex and Nathaniel are scuffling with each other.

Nathaniel lets out a pained grunt when Alex throws him against one of the walls hard enough to crack the concrete, then yanks his sleeves back and starts pressing buttons on a wrist-mounted console. He taps at the display screen between dodging various attacks—

And then security drones fly out from hatches in the ceiling and start raining down Gatling gunfire on all of you.

“Get down!” Frank bellows as he dives behind one of the upended, heavy, metal lab tables.

Neena, Mikhail, and Nate join him, opening fire at the various drones.

You dive tackle Yukio, practically throwing her and yourself underneath one of the computer desks. You tuck her underneath you, doing your best to shield her from flying glass shards and stray chunks of metal.

Wade grabs Russell and Ellie, yanking them into a nearby alcove and shoving them behind him so he can take shots at the drones. “Since when did this go from a redux of my first movie to a redux of Terminator? We don’t have that kind of budget!”

Madeline shrieks when some of the rounds fired by the drones bounce off her containment cell. She drops to the floor of the tube, curling into a ball and sobbing hysterically. “Mommy!”

“Maddie!” Christina wholesale throws an operation table at one of the drones, cleaving it in half, before sprinting across the lab to reach her daughter’s cell. “Maddie!”

The whole building shakes like it’s about to come down. You hold tighter onto Yukio, getting what glimpses you can of the battle from under your table.

Alex and Nathaniel are caught up in a fraught telekinetic tango. They’re both reaching out towards each other –Nathaniel with both hands, red-faced and straining, and Alex with one hand, expression grim but determined—and their stand off seems to be what’s ripping the lab apart.

What happens when there are two unstoppable forces and two immovable objects, and each person has one?

Mikhail pops out of nowhere, landing next to Nathaniel. He lets out a burst of maniacal laughter, hits Nathaniel upside the head with the butt of his rifle, then disappears again.

Nathaniel stumbles, dazed –and it’s enough. He shrieks as he whizzes past you, bouncing off the ground before slamming into the computer station near the main entrance to the lab.

The remaining windows in the lab shatter, along with the lights. Glass rains down on the floor in tiny shards. Smoke and dust billow from one of the destroyed computer terminals, mixing with the glass into a lethal fog.

Your husband grabs Christina before quickly shielding her, Frank, Neena, and Nathan from the worst of the falling glass.

At the lab’s entrance, Wade and a newly reappeared Mikhail shield Russell and Ellie with their bodies.

For a moment, everything goes quiet, save for Essex’s labored groaning, Maddie’s terrified sobbing, and the tinkling sound of the glass making contact with the floor.

And then, not unlike a phoenix, Alex emerges from a cloud of smoke, head held high and eyes glowing menacingly. “Still want to do this, podonok?”

Nathaniel bares his teeth in a snarl before pushing up the sleeve on his jacket, revealing a time travel device like Nathan’s. “Fuck you.” He slaps a button on the device, then winks out of view in a flash of green light.

Alex snorts disdainfully. “Coward.”

Everything goes silent again. Relief slowly starts to sink in, now that the worst of it is over.

And then there’s an ominous whirring noise, and Madeline’s tube starts sinking into the lab floor.

She panics, shrieking and pounding on the glass. “Mommy!”

Christina bolts towards her daughter, equally as terror-stricken. “Maddie!”

The tube sinks fully into the ground, locking into place with a sickening click.

Christina freezes for a moment, staring at the place where her daughter used to be. Then, she lets out an anguished shriek and makes to rip the containment tube out of the ground.

“Don’t!” you shout, batting her away from the tube with a blast of air. “The neurotoxin!”

“I have to save her!”

“She’s already gone,” Nathan says, voice ragged. “He had a teleportation device attached to her cell. It would’ve activated seconds after he left.”

“Fuck you!”

Alex steps between Christina and the cell, keeping her from yanking it back up. “Easy, easy. We will still find your daughter.”

Christina snarls, then punches Alex straight in the face.

She doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead, she raises an eyebrow at the aggrieved woman, then lifts her own fist. “My turn? Or are we done?”

Christina gapes up at Alex for a moment, shocked, then resumes her efforts to try and get to the tube. “Maddie –I have to save her—”

“She is not there,” Alex insists, grunting as she bodily lifts Christina away from the cell. “Our best bet is to find Nathaniel.”

“He could be anywhere!”

“He used a short-range teleporter,” Nathan pipes up. “He’ll be close by. The sooner we start tracking him, the better.”

“Well, that would be our cue,” Alex says, firmly ushering Christina towards the door. “Let’s head back to house. We can plan from there.”

“What about this place?” Yukio asks as she follows after Alex.

“We burn it.”

“We –we can’t do that,” Piotr protests, staring at his mother’s back. “Criminals need to be held responsible for—”

“And, what, we just leave evidence of our involvement? Of your connections to criminal underworld?” Alex snaps, whirling to face her son. “Nyet! We destroy this place and keep ourselves in the clear.”

“And what about the people connected to this place. Without evidence, they will never be held accountable!”

“Justice has many forms, medvezhonok. They’ll get theirs.”

“Come on.” You tug on your husband’s hand when he frowns after his mother. “We need to go, either way. The cops aren’t gonna be able to help us with this, not the way we really need help.”

Piotr’s grimace deepens –but, he ultimately falls into step next to you.

29 notes · View notes

sanktnikolais · 4 years

Text

Finding the Right One

a/n: So here I am, finally going to post what I’ve been sobbing over for the @grishaversebigbang. Cheers to being able to participate in this event!!!

Corporalki: @saygrisha

Materialki (art links): @kayascodelorio (here), @sixofdemigods (here and here), @flashlamp007 (here)

Summary: Ravka University’s Golden Boy and Ice Queen—two totally opposite people join forces in finding each other’s “ideal person” for the sake of “finally finding happiness”. Being the head of their department’s student council and knowing each other since their senior years in high school, they both thought that finding the right one for the other would be easy. But it wasn’t as they’d expected.

Could they finally realize that the one they were looking for was already in front of them?

AO3 link

Word count: 4070

PART I PART II PART III

The agreement was simple: be on campus before seven for the meeting of the upcoming event of the Engineering Night happening in less than a month.

Zoya released an exasperated breath as she checked her watch. It was thirteen minutes past seven, and Nikolai was still nowhere to be seen. The said Golden Boy was good at almost everything, but coming on time was never in that list and it made Zoya want to throw at least five alarm clocks at him if it meant getting him up at the right time.

The two other members were already present in the student council room, the people assigned by the elected president himself. They looked like they were still fighting off sleep as they sat at the opposite sides of the table.

Genya was holding a cup of coffee in both of her hands, staring at the liquid with narrowed eyes, like she was plotting on how to murder it.

David had his laptop open in front of him already, squinting from time to time as he continued to type vigorously on the spreadsheet and write on a small notebook on the side.

When the final results of the council presidential election were announced, Zoya wasn’t surprised when Nikolai won by a landslide. Besides, who wouldn’t trust the Golden Boy of Ravka University? Consistent dean’s lister, an active member of the music club and the Ravka Dance Crew, and unfairly handsome—just as Nikolai liked to describe himself.

It only became a surprise to her when Nikolai had suddenly appeared in front of her at the library, clumsily sitting down and asking her if she wanted to be his vice president.

Zoya’s first thought was to chuck the book she was reading at his head.

But she had remembered that they were in a library and doing the said thought would cause a commotion that was most likely not allowed in the place.

At first she thought Nikolai was just messing with her, but his face had shown no sign of mischief—which was quite a rare sight to her—and Zoya realized that he was really being serious about it. He’d told her that there was no one he trusted enough to lead alongside him.

It took a few short days of convincing before Zoya finally agreed, and she was surprised that the crew Nikolai had handpicked were their old colleagues. They were nearly inseparable after they’d settled their coordination—like the gears of a well-oiled machine.

Now she found herself starting the meeting fifteen minutes late because she knew that if they continued to wait for Nikolai, they would probably be late for their Monday classes.

“Well, since our golden president is still not here, I’ll do the honors.” Zoya took a swig of coffee from the small thermos in her hand, pulling the portable whiteboard at the head of the table, its squeaking wheels echoing throughout the room. “David, status report.”

She held a hand out, and Genya quickly tossed her a marker.

David gave his chin a scratch before looking up from his laptop. “Let’s start with the things still needed to do,” he said, then he was enumerating the things he had written on his list.

Zoya proceeded to write it on the board, slightly appalled that there still were several tasks left needed to be done, two which were crucial and must be on priority.

“I’ve already talked to the head of the facilities,” Genya added, finally looking up from her coffee. “They said that it was already approved that they would let the setting up of the stage at the center of the track oval.”

“Thank goodness that’s out of the list.” Zoya let out a huff, and then she remembered what she had done for the requirements to be done. “I’ve run the permits and completed it a week ago. They said they’d get back to me in a few days. I swore to the saints in heaven if they still wouldn’t have given me any updates tomorrow, I would shove their foot up their asses.

Genya let out a laugh. “Well, what do you expect? It’s Ravka.”

The door barged open, and someone appeared at the threshold. All heads turned to the doorway as the blonde boy stood still and stared back at them.

Zoya raised a brow and eyed the wall clock at the opposite side of the room. “You’re late.” She gave her best cold expression that she was known for, which always left most people cowering back or visibly shaken, but Nikolai had always been immune to it. “It’s seven-twenty.”

Nikolai gave her a grin, and Zoya wanted to throw the thermos she was holding at him. “I’m the president. You’re just early,” he replied.

Zoya erased her previous thought. She’d kill him instead.

Nikolai must have sensed her deadly idea because he laughed lightly, raising both of his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m joking. I’m sorry for being late. Shall we continue in bad-mouthing our dear Ravka?” He turned to Zoya and mouthed something to which she understood as, My insomnia sucks.

She felt her small irritation dissipate as she eyed Nikolai settling his bag in the shelf at the far corner. True enough, the dark circles under his eyes were proof of his restlessness. His sleeping disorder often slipped from her mind—though she had witnessed how it affected him during the nights it was at its peak.

Bombardment of memes at one in the morning, when Zoya was still up finishing her lab reports or reviewing for a test, the constant sound of a message being received echoing through her room.

Or the sudden calls in the middle of the night where Nikolai mostly asked or told her any random shit he’d think of until Zoya would hear him snoring softly in the background before she ended the call and went back to sleep.

“Confirmation about the guest band we’ve planned to invite?” David asked, snapping Zoya out of her thoughts.

“I’ve talked to them yesterday, and they confirmed already,” Nikolai answered as he put his glasses on.

“So that’s two crucial things down,” said David, crossing out on the page of his notebook.

Zoya clicked her tongue as he started walking towards their table. It caught his attention, and he stopped midway.

Nikolai met her eyes with a questioning look. She gestured at his shirt, tapping at her chest gently. He raised a brow as he looked at his blue button-down, and winced when he noticed the top two buttons were in their wrong places, leaving the material in a rumpled mess.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to Zoya.

She only shrugged, but she was actually fighting a ghost of a smile twitching its way to her face.

More than an hour later, their meeting finally adjourned with things looking good for them, and just in time for the start of Nikolai and the twins’ first class of the day. The siblings had already gone from the room, as well as David who still needed to consult for his thesis.

“By the way, I’m still talking with one of the sponsors. Still quite hesitant, they are, and not that easy to charm,” Nikolai told the two girls just as he was about to exit the room. “I’ll update you about my friendly chat with them as soon as possible.”

Genya nodded. “You got it.”

“Hey, Lanstov.” Zoya paused for a second before grabbing the thermos she had set on the table some time earlier. She tossed it to Nikolai, who caught it with surprising ease. “It’s coffee. You need it more than me.”

Nikolai stared at her, to the thermos, and then back at her. His face gave mixed reactions at once—but it was mostly shock. “Wow, I think this is the first time you shared your holy drink with me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

The smile he gave her was fond, and he raised the container in a toast-like fashion with a matching wink. “Thanks, my ruthless truffle.” Then he was out of the room.

Zoya just shook her head and went back to arranging the small stack of paper in front of her, her brows creased into a slight frown. It was when she felt a weight in the air did she look up from her work and she saw Genya staring at her, amusement evident on her face.

“What?”

“So when are you two going to date?” asked the redhead.

Great, here we go again. “I’ve told you for like a million times,” Zoya said exasperatedly, setting a tired hand on a table, “I don’t date.” When Genya still didn’t look convinced, she added, “At least not anymore.”

The other girl laughed. “’My ruthless truffle’? It’s already given that Nikolai loves making nicknames for everyone but he only calls you that,” Genya said. “We all know he worships chocolate truffles.”

Zoya snorted. “He calls me that because he knows I don’t like truffles.” It was actually true, but Genya didn’t seem to buy it. Nothing would ever convince her.

“Oh, really?”

“Alright, where’s this conversation going?”

“I don’t know, where do you want it to go?”

“Genya,” said Zoya, her voice tired, “it’s never going to happen.”

And it was the truth. Nikolai deserved better—the world, even. The boy was full of light and purity and optimism; he always saw the good in everything and it was only one of the many things that made him all-Nikolai.

He was the Golden Boy, all in heart and nature, and Zoya was surprised he’d stayed close with her throughout the years after the disaster back in their senior year in high school. Even more when they both enrolled at the same university, and in the same major, resulting in them being always together. And thanks to that, there were some rumors circulating in their department about them being a thing.

She would never know what made him trust her, despite the rough nature and sharp tongue that she had. Nikolai saw all of who she was, and he didn’t mind one bit.

But who was she? The famous Ice Queen. The one who could make people shrink back with the mere raise of an eyebrow. Merely thinking of that fact would already make the thought Genya wanted unrealistic, and it would stay that way.

Zoya intended to make it stay that way.

“I’ll be staying at the library for the meantime. Probably until the next class at eleven.” Zoya pushed the stack of papers to the side and pinned it down with the puncher. “Message me if you need anything.”

She gave the redhead a half-hearted smile before she was out of the room.

****************

Nikolai thought his day couldn’t get any better. At times when he was proven wrong, he’d gladly accept it and find it rather amusing that he had actually made a mistake.

But when he wasn’t able to attend his Numerical Methods class due to some apparent reason, he realized that he didn’t particularly like this day to be proven wrong.

First was his day starting early—as early as one in the morning when he was hit with the restlessness of his mind for the nth time. He had actually itched to call Zoya again, but he remembered that he had already done that just a few nights ago when he was in the same state, so he decided to read the upcoming lesson of their major instead. That resulted in him falling asleep sometime past five, and waking up late for the council meeting he set at seven.

Their dreaded Thermodynamics midterm exam was moved from Friday two weeks from now, to Monday at least three weeks from now, and Zoya had been cursing all throughout the time they made their way to that class until it started. She had been berating the fact that it was going to be very late for a midterm examination as it was already nearing to the finals week.

Halfway through the said major subject, their professor had given them a surprise quiz which literally came out of nowhere, and Nikolai’s still sleep-deprived mind was only able to comprehend and answer half of the questions. It ended up with Nikolai and Zoya drinking yet another cup of coffee from the cafeteria after class while talking—debating—about their own answers, and the people within earshot probably thought they were arguing.

Later when Zoya left for her part-time job at a coffee shop a few blocks down, Nikolai found himself in their student council room and he decided to get a shut-eye for a while before his two remaining classes.

He didn’t expect that his body would betray him despite the alarm he set on his phone beside him.

It was David who found him passed out on a chair by the window and had to kick his leg a few times to wake him up fully. Nikolai was thankful of the fate that brought David to the council room and woke him, otherwise he was sure he’d be able to sleep until saints know when.

Though the catch was the time on his phone being 16:30 when Nikolai checked it groggily and it was like a big slap to the face because he had a math class at three.

“You have to take care of yourself more, Pres,” David had said, and Nikolai couldn’t help the grateful look had appeared on his face. The other man wasn’t someone with many words, yet he always spoke the right ones. “Make sure you sleep properly tonight.”

I wish I could tell that to my insomnia, he thought to himself as he sent a salute to David’s way with a grin. “I’ll try, Dr. Phil.”

David only shook his head with a light laugh before waving goodbye and going his own way.

Nikolai gave a long sigh as he currently made his way to the expanse of the parking lot at the side of the university, almost dragging himself across to where he parked his old Buick muscle car before his body gave out in exhaustion. It was only a quarter past seven, but he could already feel the want of sleep coming his way.

The universe must have been angry with him today for an unknown reason because it chose the right time to start raining heavily.

It took him a minute to remember where he parked his car and made a beeline towards it. Nikolai was already drenched by the time he reached the forsaken car and practically threw himself inside.

He tossed his bag in the backseat and removed his button-down, throwing it in a heap on the passenger seat. His gray undershirt was almost black from being drenched in the rain, and Nikolai could already feel the coldness seeping in from the damp material. Plus, his glasses were blurry with droplets that stuck on the lenses.

It was too easy to believe that the universe and fates didn’t favor him today, and they both decided to throw shit at his way.

With a small chuckle over his thoughts, Nikolai pulled out from the parking lot and drove out of the campus. He reached over to his glove compartment and silently prayed that he had the spare towel stashed in there, otherwise he’d most likely catch a cold by tomorrow.

It was the first favor the day did to him when he was able to grab hold of the material.

“Thank the heavens,” Nikolai mumbled, violently drying his hair and neck with a hand as he turned right towards the main intersection.

The rain only seemed to get heavier and the wipers had to be continuously turned on to maintain a visible view of the road in front. He slowed to a stop by the intersection and waited for the light to turn green.

Nikolai wiped off the water from his glasses as he took the time to think about what he needed to do, but his mind only seemed to scream “sleep” and he knew it was the only thing needed to be done for tonight. Or probably drink a nice cup of coffee again.

He slipped his glasses back on just in time to see the stoplight signaling ‘go’ and he stepped on the gas.

As Nikolai kept a minimal pace with the other cars near him, the bus stop by the other side of the intersection came into view. He squinted against the bright lights of the cars and lampposts combined, and his eyes caught a familiar figure by the shed.

She was supposed to be home at this time.

Pulling into a stop by the curb, Nikolai rolled the window by the passenger’s seat down and bowed his head a little to look through. He flashed her a grin. “Need a lift, truffle?” he called out through the rain.

He was rewarded with a deep scowl as she bent down in level with his window. Zoya’s eyes widened for a bit when a look of recognition dawned upon her face. She was already soaked despite the roof of the bus stop over her. “Nikolai?”

“The one and only.”

Zoya gave him a puzzled look. “What are you doing here?”

“I have class until seven, remember? And I happened to spot you when I passed. You’re going to get sick. Get in, I’ll drive you home.”

Nikolai saw a flash of relief on her face as she jogged towards the passenger door and got inside in a hurry. He pulled from the curb and started to drive, offering the towel from his head to Zoya. She grabbed it with a muffled thanks and threw the button-down he left at the seat earlier to him.

“The bus must have been stuck somewhere. I’ve been waiting for half an hour already,” Zoya muttered as she dried her hair roughly. She looked weirdly at the towel. “This smells like it’s been in a cramped space for a while and mixed with the scent of your shampoo.”

Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “It actually was. Take it or leave it, Nazyalensky.”

“I have no choice, do I?”

“Yep, don’t have any.” He paused as he took a U-turn and went back the way he came from. Zoya lived in the much quieter part of the city, and it was on the opposite side of where Nikolai was staying at. “Wasn’t your shift supposed to be done at five? It’s already half past seven.”

“A co-worker had an emergency and needed to go right away. Volunteered to cover up until the next came in.” Zoya reclined the car seat and leaned back more comfortably, her face obscured by the towel. “And I still have some shit to do.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Such a hardworking and selfless passenger I have here. Ravka is blessed to have you.”

“I’m going to kick you for that,” Zoya muttered, words muffled by the towel still over her face.

“What? I’m just stating the truth.”

“Focus on the road, Lantsov.”

“Harsh.”

“Being careful.”

Nikolai gave a light laugh and shook his head. Their exchanges could go like this for hours, and neither of them would mind. Some people still couldn’t imagine them working together for the council, all because of their known opposite personalities, but it’s actually what made it easier.

It was just as easy as breathing.

He had known Zoya for years, and Nikolai surely knew that he trusted this woman with his life.

A comfortable silence followed soon after, nothing but soft sound of the rain bouncing on the roof could be heard. He appreciated some certain times like this—it helped quiet the roaring thoughts in his head that were the main reason for his restlessness at night. There were times he wished he could just cure the sleeping disorder he had in a flash, make the thoughts and anxiety over his responsibilities disappear. The weight of it was dragging down any strength and optimism Nikolai had left in him, but he still managed to keep himself upright.

And he knew he had to thank the people around him for keeping him sane.

The number of cars on the road lessened to a few when they finally turned to the quieter part of the city, and Nikolai saw the familiar landmarks near the apartment complex Zoya was living at. Thankfully the rain had finally stopped in the area, and he didn’t have to squint through the rain to know which roads he’d turn at.

The aforementioned woman bolted upright from her seat, the sudden movement startling Nikolai that he almost lost control of the steering wheel and his heart almost leaping out of his throat. She removed the towel from her face and frowned at him, as if she was contemplating to punch him or murder him.

“Shit, Zoya. What the fuck.” Curse words were often Zoya’s thing, but when he was caught off guard, he’d definitely not mind to adapt to the idea of cursing.

Nikolai sent a disbelieving look her way, though he ignored the part where he saw a stray hair clinging to her cheek, and the urge he had to tuck it back behind her ear because it definitely wasn’t the reason he looked away quickly.

“Don’t do that.”

“I just remembered something.”

“Can you remember something and not give me a heart attack at the same time?”

Zoya’s frown remained. “David told me he found you passed out in the council room earlier.”

“I just took a nap.”

“Until four-thirty? You have a math class at three.”

Nikolai felt like a dog backed into a corner. He had no other excuse to that, so he settled for the deflecting method he always did. “Don’t worry, someone from the class told me that they just did a few more complicated examples of the previous lecture. It’s nothing I can’t do.”

He made a right turn, and the apartment complex was already in view. Nikolai drove a bit faster than he already was, and he could still feel the weight of Zoya’s gaze on him.

“Well, home sweet home.” He put the lights on hazard and pulled by the curb. When he finally looked her way, he found that she still had the deadpan look on her face, an eyebrow raised. “Okay, okay. I’m not doing anything later. I swear to the saints. I’ll try to get some sleep.”

“Why didn’t you call me last night?”

Nikolai opened his mouth to answer, only to close it again when he doubted the reply he was about to say. He looked away with a dry laugh. “Well, I figured I’d disturbed you enough in the past week.”

Zoya huffed. “Come on, you can do better than that. You could’ve made it two consecutive weeks.” A short pause. Then Nikolai felt a hand on his arm, the sudden contact startling him, and he was forced to look at her blue eyes. “But really, call me if you need to. I barely sleep too, anyway.”

“Wow. I think this is the first time you’re not wanting to disown me or throw me into a ditch. I’m a bit taken aback.” He actually was, truly, and Zoya just scowled at him as if she were offended. He chuckled and raised an arm up in surrender. “I’m quite aware of the fact don’t worry.” Then he smiled softly, patting her hand on his arm and adding, “Thank you, Zoya. I owe you one.”

The raven-haired woman narrowed her eyes at him. “You owe me tons, Lantsov,” said Zoya, smirking triumphantly. She tossed him back the damp towel. “And I’m planning on collecting those debts with caffeine or anything that would equal the favors.”

Nikolai could only laugh at the turn of events, though he was thankful for the sudden shift, and they were back to their usual banter again. “Will I be paying them for the rest of my life?”

“Definitely.”

“Pity me.”

Zoya opened the door and stepped out. “Thanks for the lift, by the way. Be careful on your way back,” she said before closing it.

Nikolai pulled the window down. “Wait, is this counted as a paid debt?” he called out just as she entered the main doors of the building. He was only given a solid thumbs-down and another smirk.

“Dream on, Lantsov.”

*****

Please welcome, our favorite idiots. lmao

Thank you for reading. One big shoutout to my gangmates! <3 </i>

#grishabigbang #gvbbfic #gvbbcreation #zoyalai #king of scars #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #college au #these idiots #my writing

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riyuu-bsd · 5 years

Text

If Love Was A Crime [Dostoyevsky Fyodor x Reader]

Strolling through the park with a small smile, the lady noticed that most people were there family, friends or a significant other.

"Most" meaning all but a lanky man dressed in white, a winter hat atop his head despite the pleasant weather.

"Hey sir," she smiled, walking up to the ravenette. He looked somewhat shaken for a moment, before regaining the confident composure he had maintained previously, purple eyes sliding to look at her. He gave a nod, acknowledging her presence.

"So.. How's your day?" the (h/c)ette continued, almost oblivious to the awkward tension. He gave no response.

"Uh.. Nice weather we're having?" she managed, the tension too choking not to affect her.

"Why do you insist on talking to someone who doesn't talk to you?"

His voice was somewhat smooth, accented with something she couldn't quite name,

"Because you look lonely, sir, and I wanted to talk to you," she smiled,

happy to finally hear his voice,

"Ah? I'm not lonely, just waiting for someone," he said, chuckling slightly,

"Oh," the lady whispered, looking down at the floor, "Can I wait with you?" she beamed,

"Go ahead," he sighed, still appearing unfazed.

She rambled on for what seemed like an hour, telling small jokes and talking about whatever came to her mind. It was pleasant for the man in the hat to hear her voice, her stories and whatever else she drawled on about. He almost enjoyed her company. When the time came that the city's rat did arrive, he insisted that she wait for him so they could talk. Properly. And she did. The grin that had plastered itself on her face was nothing short of glowing with happiness, something that almost got the rather astute ravenette to crack a smile.

He half listened to his informant, half observed the girl stood by the tree, smiling at him supportively.

"..Are you listening?" the smaller man asked,

"Yes," the tall ravenette replied, prying his vision back to the rather grim face of his informant.

"Looks more like you're fascinated by that girl over there, heard she's got connections to the A.D.A, name's (Y/n) I think," the small, slouched man rambled, "She works there, I think, but only as an assistant; she's too nice to solve crimes properly is what I hear."

The man stopped.

"But I'm sure you're more interested in what you asked for, right?"

"Go on about her," the taller male said, intrigued as to what such an innocent lady would have to do with such a vile, ability ridden place.

"Well, I heard her brother works there too, but I can't quite remember his name; she also has no ability, and just helps around with stuff like reports or organising, I've heard," the informant went on, "She has a good reputation, from everything I've heard."

The man in the hat nodded.

"That's all I need to know," he said, a soft smirk on his face as he looked the man in the eyes.

"Are you su-"

"I'm sure," he snapped, "Now take your leave."

The smaller man nodded, bowing his head down and leaving hastily.

"(Y/n)?" the ravenette called, smirk falling into a somewhat sincere smile, "How are you?"

Whilst she didn't recall telling him her name, she figured she must've introduced herself whilst rambling,

"I'm doing great-" she cut herself off, "What's your name?"

"Dostoyevsky," he answered honestly, knowing that even if part of the wretched agency, she would be too innocent to have heard of him,

"Dostoyevsky.." she mumbled, before smiling, "Dostoyevsky!" She repeated, "I like it!"

He nodded, letting her own name roll off of his tongue.

"(Y/n)," he said, the girl looking him in the eye as he did so,

"Mhm?" she smiled innocently. It was a small symbol of her naivety, and he couldn't help but feel elated by her sheer purity.

"Nothing, I just like the sound of your name," he cooed,

"Okay," she hummed, "Say, why are you wearing that hat if it's spring?"

He chuckled,

"I just like it," he answered plainly.

The two continued to talk for what felt like hours, time dragged on by the ravenette's deep, sultry voice and her continued "pardon"s excusing for her to hear it more. She found herself enjoying his company, often laughing or giggling at his bluntness. He would often find himself observing her, but would quickly be taken note of and giggled at. Every time she smiled he felt another part of him melt at her innocent grin, at the desire to reach out and hold her, but she was unwilling to corrupt or taint her purity.

Days passed, the two regularly meeting nearby the same park, or out to get food or ice cream (which Dostoyevsky would always end up paying for).

He put off working to spend time with her, putting aside his beliefs of the detective agency to escort her home safely. She would always smile, leaning into a quick, innocent hug that would tear at his heartstrings.

He wanted her as his own.

Only his.

Not to share.

Not to be near anyone but him.

He was the only one who was allowed to see her, the only one allowed to make her smile, the only one to hold her.

She began to change, something which didn't go unnoticed by her rather perceptive brother.

She was out a lot more, always insisting on having plans when her usual shopping trips with Yosano approached, and would apologise profusely.

The one time she went about her normal routine, she returned to their shared apartment with her sleeves rolled down, a litter of small scratches unveiled when he rolled them up.

Someone was becoming possessive of her, and he was determined to find out who.

He insisted the agency all went out for a work meal, saying he would pay as his treat to his co-workers and friends.

Of course, this was done using Kunikida's credit card.

He insisted she went, even going as far as to drag her there.

She had a good time, of course, relaxing with her friends and colleagues, but there was always an underlying look of worry on her face.

"(Y/n)-Chan?" her brother asked, eyes holding raw concern, "What's wrong? You're not talking to people as much as you usually do,"

"I'm fine, Osamu," she said, smiling fakely. It was an obvious fake, but he ignored it, deciding he would find out the cause in his own time.

Slinking around the streets, he followed his younger sibling, somewhat nervous as to what or who she was getting involved with.

He turned a certain corner, not seeing his sister like he would have expected. Instead there stood a man with blonde hair, and eyes that he couldn't decide as golden or blue, however strange the comparison was.

Osamu chuckled saying he was looking for someone, and that if the blonde saw a girl fitting the description to let him know however possible.

The blonde man agreed, snickering as though at a funny joke.

The brunette detective knew something was off, but didn't bother prying, turning the same cuts and corners he had to get there to get out.

"Ah, (Y/n)-Sama, how was your trip?" the man said with a smile, adding a teaspoon of sugar to a cup of tea, handing it to the lady, "I added extra sugar, just to be safe," he cooed,

"It was awesome! Nikolai sounds cool, and I think his ability is aweso-"

She had attempted to take a sip of tea, the taste horrific enough that she nearly spat it back out. Courteous as always, she swallowed it, the salty aftertaste seeming pungent against her tastebuds,

"Dostoyevsky, that tasted salty-"

"Why did you leave me, (Y/n)-Sama?" he asked, purple eyes seeming cold and glazed over in silent rage.

The way he called her "(Y/n)-Sama" almost had her skin crawling; before it was cute and funny of him, but the way he said it with such a grave tone frightened her.

"Why did you leave me?" he repeated, tone laced with a sharp venom as he slammed his fist on the pale blue tablecloth, violet eyes dark with fury. She flinched, the clang of cutlery and wobble of plates and bowls moving almost in sync with her. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I'm sorry, Dostoyevsky-San, my brother insisted that I went to dinner with him and the rest of the agency," she whispered meekly,

"Why did you go?" he asked, returning to the calm composure she had initially melted.

"Because he wanted us all to go, and he looked so upset when I told him I had plans.

"So why did you leave me, (Y/n)-Sama? Why did you leave me alone? Why weren't you there? I put aside a lot for you; work, time, money. And this is how you repay me?" he said, tone wavering slightly at the last part.

"I'm sorry, Dostoyevsky-San, it won't happen again, Dostoyevsky-San," she mumbled, "To make it up to you, you can come around my place later if you want; we can make up for lost time there, watch some movies," she offered.

The ravenette leaned forward, propping himself up on his knuckles as he looked at her, simply observing his features.

She wavered under his harsh gaze, eyes darting anywhere in the room but at him.

The oversized, glazed windows that made everything look snowy, the pale blue curtains framing them, the checkerboard style floor in a pallid, reflecting white and pale, baby blue.

Anywhere but at him.

The pale room was of his own design, a small table and chairs in the centre with a white, stained glass window that overlooked the surrounding area.

It was the room he would always let her visit, the two sitting and talking over tea (or sometimes milkshakes) and biscuits for hours, before Nikolai would transport (Y/n) home.

This time was different.

His stare was cold–criticising–his eyes filled with something she found indescribable, miscellaneous. He continued to gaze at her, grabbing her chin and making her face him before standing up and walking closer to her, her face still in his hands.

"To make up for lost time, there is but one thing you can do," he whispered, voice huskier and more gruff than usual. He forced his lips onto her own roughly, going no further but biting her lip harshly as he pulled away.

She showed no resistance, no reaction, too consumed in guilt.

She left him waiting.

She left him.

She left her closest friend.

The least she could do to apologise had been done.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a singular tear rolling down her face.

The man melted, holding her close as he dragged his nails lightly across her arms, leaving light marks on her soft, delicate skin.

"It's okay, (Y/n)-Sama," he cooed, running a hand through her hair, "You're here now."

"You're mine, safe in my arms and vulnerable anywhere else."

Words he could never say clouded his mind, things he could never do tempting but capable of shattering the purity he loved her for.

Dostoyevsky found their next few meetings unbearable, the desire to lean in once more roaring in his mind.

But he couldn't.

Even then, he found her innocence tainted.

He had been her first kiss, there was no questioning it, but he needed to be more.

He needed to be her anything.

He needed to be her everything.

He needed to be her one and only.

He needed to be the light of her life.

He needed to be the reason she carried on when things got tough.

He needed to be her lover.

He needed to be her God.

Which is why when he walked her home most evenings, he would glare at anyone who dared to look her way, hand tightly holding onto her own as he interlaced their fingers.

Her brother, Dazai Osamu, was no exception.

"Osamu!" she grinned, running towards her brunette brother after ripping her hand from Dostoyevsky's vice-like grip, "There's someone I want you to meet," she beamed, dragging him towards her hat-adorning friend.

"Osamu, this is my best friend, Dostoyevsky, Dostoyevsky, this is Osamu, he's my older brother!" she beamed, "I hope the two of you get along well."

The bright smiles he had almost assured were exclusive to him resurfaced in front of Osamu, making Dostoyevsky's blood boil in searing hot jealousy. The two men glared at each other, the (h/c)ette left slightly confused at the obvious tension.

"Osamu, Dostoyevsky, stop glaring like that.." she mumbled shyly, holding the ravenette's hand once more and looking at her brother almost pleadingly.

"(Y/n), we best be off," he started, pulling her back away from her apartment,

"But we were just going back h-"

"I forgot to get you a treat, (Y/n), I'll make up for it with ice cream." Her face lit up,

"Oh, okay!"

The brunette detective gave his ravenette rival a final glare, similar to the one he found natural when he was a mafia executive, and walked off, easing a "see you later" to his sister.

The purple eyed man smiled to himself,

"Call me Fyodor, dear (Y/n)-Sama," he cooed, interlocking their fingers and looking deeply into (e/c) eyes he would gladly loose himself in.

"Fyodor.." she whispered, the male smirking at how his name rolled off of her tongue.

"Yes, (Y/n)-Sama?"

""I know there's something you want to ask of me."

She closed herself off, only leaving her room to visit Dostoyevsky. Osamu knew this, discouraging her at every chance he had.

But she never listened.

She would simply glide past him, walking off to meet her close friend.

"Treat me like your God," he whispered, voice low, "That's how you can help me,"

"How can I do that well enough?" she cooed,

"Never leave me, devote all of your attention to me and listen to my ever word, grant my every request," he demanded.

"Of course, Fyodor-Sama."

She had fallen into a case of saviour syndrome; convinced her innocence was enough to save Fyodor from the crimes she knew he committed.

She had heard her brother's warnings.

Heard his tales.

And she still went through with things.

She still indulged herself in the dark rabbit hole that was Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

Her usual scent of cinnamon slowly faded, a much more lavender-like scent coating her.

A lavender-like scent adorned by Dostoyevsky.

She never strayed too far from him, quitting her job at the ADA for a chance to save him.

Osamu felt more lonely without his sister, their brief reunion having brought meaning to his life.

And it was all taken away.

All taken away by that wretched demon Fyodor.

He decided he would help his sister.

Free her from his sinful shackles.

He would do just that, whether or not she thought she was the one doing the saving.

She was blind to the chains binding him to crime and murder.

Blind and feeding contently off of his sweet lies and tempting fabrications of reality.

"Dostoyevsky," his voice was cold, foreboding,

"Osamu," the god-complexed male smirked back, "I've been wondering when you would visit us."

Stood next to the man was the shell of the lady Osamu had known as his sister. A hallow excuse of a human. Her features were dull, like porcelain, the spark of light in her eyes gone dull.

"What did you-"

"I didn't do anything to her, Osamu," he smirked, "It was all her decision,"

The brunette nearly snapped.

Nearly.

He kept a somewhat cool face, watching as the ravenette stepped down from the pallid chair he used as a throne.

The echo of his footprints was ear-splitting, the only noise you could hear.

He came to a stop just in front of Dazai, pulling a small blade from his coat pocket and dragging it swiftly across the brunette's neck.

He had known it would be his own demise.

He had desired death anyway.

But why did it hurt to stare at his little sister's hallow expression,

"She would never do this to herself by choice," he croaked, "She would never do anything with someone like you,"

"Let's ask her for her thoughts on the matter," Fyodor said, smirking.

"(Y/n), will you create a world of peace? A world of perfection? A world where scum like the Armed Detective Agency doesn't exist? A world inspired by you?"

A tear rolled down Dazai's face when she said her answer.

"Of course, Fyodor-Sama."

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clown-demon · 2 months

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@kitxkatrp asked:

Dazai is gonna bury his face in those boobs because he can.

"D-Dazai-kun!" Oh she's already a flustered mess the moment he touched them.. They were really sensitive..

#kitxkatrp #hey put on a happy face; then everything will be okay / Nikolai #you're better than drugs; your love is like wine / nikozai #Take it back to the start; I've had a change of heart / ADA v.#Magic anon: Fem!Nikolai

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night-clown-demon · 4 months

Text

Nikolai had told Dazai to wait outside their bedroom for his final gift to be prepared. Of course, Nikolai was going to be a little silly with it. Finally, when the gift was prepared, he called out to Dazai on the other side of the closed door, "Okay love, it's ready~," he giggled.

What he'd be met with, was Nikolai in Christmas paper wrap clothing and a bow on his head, along with some ribbon on his body. He was naked underneath it all too.

"Your final gift is-- ME~!"

@kitxkatrp

#kitxkatrp #hey put on a happy face; then everything is okay / nikolai #The Clown

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yuriplisetsky-rp · 6 years

Text

It’s a News Kind of Day

This is another one-shot for our blog canon. As usual, it was co-written with the wonderful @otabekvoiceblog though I did finish off the last of this myself. It’s just under 3K, with lots of fluff - both between Otayuri and Yuri and his father, Artur. I would say it’s rated T - as Yuri’s collar is mentioned, and the f-word is present several times. Below the cut!

Summary: Yuri needs to talk to Otabek about something important that will affect their future. Otabek’s reaction surprises him. In the middle of this, Artur calls Yuri with his own news.

Yuri pushed his laptop off his lap. He was laying on his bed, resting - pretty much the only thing he had been doing since he was still recovering from his injury. He looked hard at the space where the laptop had been in front of him, thoughts swirling around inside his head, thoughts he’d had for some time now. “Hey, Beka!” he called out, knowing that his boyfriend was nearby. “Can you come here for a second? I just... I've been thinking about something…”

Otabek came out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of boxer briefs and a towel around his neck. He went over to Yuri as he toweled off his hair. Slipping on a tank top, he lounged next to him on the bed and pulled him close, kissing Yuri's forehead. “Yes, Kotenka? What have you been thinking about?” he asked, a seductive tone to his voice. “Do we need to get your collar?”

Yuri moaned. Just the thought of Beka putting his collar on him sent his mind going in a direction he did not need right now. ”Mmm, yes, but later,” he said. “There's something else first. I've been thinking…” He looked at Otabek, in just a tank top and boxer briefs, combined with his thoughts, it was all enough to drive Yuri crazy. “Fuck, you are distracting like that…” He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of how gorgeous Beka was from his mind - at least long enough for him to have this conversation. “I think... I want Viktor to coach me.”

Otabek gave a long pause, blinking as he pulled back from Yuri's neck, where he'd been planting light kisses. “You… have you two talked about this?” he asked. He was blushing intensely, eyes darting around like Yuri had caught him at something.

Yuri's moans at the kisses on his neck stopped when the kisses did. “No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first,” he said. He saw the blush crossing his boyfriend’s cheeks, and thought that was strange. He looked like he had been caught doing something. What was going on? He felt very out of the loop for some reason.

“Right... I…” Otabek sighed, putting his head in his hands. “I was going to tell you tonight, I promise. Yuuri approached me today.”

Yuri blinked in confusion. “He did? Really? What about?”

“Well, it…” Otabek bit his lower lip. “I'm bringing it up because it's relevant to what you're saying, Yura.” He was blushing like crazy and paused for a moment before speaking again. “I know you want Viktor to coach you. I've known for a while.”

Yuri thought about what he was saying and realized the only thing that possibly made sense. “Wait, he... asked to coach you?” he asked. “And I figured that you might have known.” Yuri wasn’t a very secretive person, and it was impossible to hide things from Otabek. He always seemed to know what he was feeling and thinking. It was quite incredible, actually.

“Yeah… he said that he understood. That you take whatever path you have to take that suits you to skate your best. That's how you show the world your heart. That's how you bring an audience to its knees. And that's how you win gold. And we knew you wanted Viktor to coach you, and he's already been talking about it and he apparently really wants you two to have matching sweatsuits - I would watch out, he may have ordered them already,” Otabek explained. “Yuuri was frank with me; they want to live in Hasetsu, and they want to ask you and I to come live with them. To train with them. Of course, I'm sure we'll all help one another, but I think I'll probably work better with Yuuri than Viktor for the most part. And I said I would ask you, and… well… that's exactly what you want to do, isn't it? You want to move to Japan."

Yuri nodded. “Yes, it is. I mean, I love Russia; it's my home, and Yakov has done so much for me, but... This feels right for me, you know? I just... I had to think about it,” he said. Especially considering everything that happened this season, he didn’t want to make a rash decision. “I didn't want to bring it up unless I was absolutely sure, you know? And it's a big decision, so I didn't want to talk about it with Viktor and Yuuri until I had talked about it with you first, but... It feels like what I need to do.” After all, he would never have discussed moving to Japan with Viktor before talking about with his boyfriend first.

Otabek nodded, before his face grows stony, afraid he's about to cause Yuri to cry. “Yura....what about Artur?” he asked.

Yuri sighed heavily. His new relationship with his father was very important to him. He had never had a parent who loved him the way the Artur did. Natasha never had. “I know! I'm just starting to get to know him; I don't want to lose that; and what about Dedushka?” he asked. “I'm all he has. I can't move to another country and leave him here by himself!” He put his head in his hands.

Otabek hugged him, petting his hair. “I'm sure they'll understand, and it's not as if you can't keep in touch. Remember, I'm always close to my family no matter where I am because I make time for them,” he said. “Talk to them both, tell them it's where you need to be; they'll support you. They love you; they're your family. And… if something happens to your grandfather, it… you have to make the choices you can live with, Yura."

Yuri wrapped his arms around him. “I know, I know, it's just…” He gave another sigh. “I know that Artur and I will be okay, even though I feel bad about leaving, but I just... I wish that my grandfather wouldn't be so far away…” He would never forgive himself is something happened to him, and he wasn’t around to be there for him when he needed.

Otabek paused for a moment. “Should we see about an apartment for three? I know that's not ideal, but…”

Yuri looked up at him. “I mean... I'm sure we both want our own space, but... that might work.... either that or find a cheap studio apartment for him nearby,” he said. “That could work, though. I think it'd be better being closer to us, especially since I'm all he had left. And he's not getting any younger…” It was far from ideal for them, at their age and at this stage in their relationship to be living with his grandfather, but what other choice did he have?

Otabek nodded. “Yura, I don't want to… I'm not saying that Nikolai is going anywhere right now, but he does have numerous health issues, and it's getting harder for him to get around, and since you're… already thinking about that, it's just...moving across countries is a big choice, so I have an um... rather big thing, to tell you.” He paused, trying to think about how he can impart hs lesson. “I've mentioned to you that when my Aeje was diagnosed with cancer at stage four that she moved in with us. I don't think… I don't think I told you how close I was to her. We all took our turns taking care of her, but she and I had had this sort of...oddly strong kinship for my whole life. She lived across the street, and she was a bold, brash woman who had raised my mother and her brothers by herself. She called me her boy, and it just…”

Otabek’s voice tightened, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he recalled his grandmother. Clearly, this had really, really affected him. “Sometimes it got hard to… to watch her die, essentially. But still… I didn't leave her bedside, because I knew I wouldn't be able to live with having abandoned her when she needed me the most,” he said. “I was with her whenever I was home for those six months. And now, I find I'm happy I didn't leave her, no matter how hard things got because I can live with the choices I made. I feel that I really did everything that I was capable of doing for her, even when she started to lose herself at the end. I just… you have to make the choices you can live with.”

Yuri held him tighter, pressing kisses to his face when he had finished. “You're right. I do need to think about that. As long as you're okay with it, maybe it's best if he moves in with us,” he said. “I want to do what's best for him, but what's best for us, too. I'm all he has left, and you're right that he's not going to be getting any better, and maybe it's best that he's not by himself anymore.”

Otabek nodded, carding his hands through Yuri's hair. “It's going to be okay. We-” Yuri's phone, sitting on the bedside table started ringing.

Yuri grabbed his phone when it rang, and answered it. It was Artur. “Hey, Artur, what's up?”

“Yuri! I… that is, I um, have… news,” he said. He sounded a bit conflicted about something, and he wasn’t sure if it was good news or bad news by the tone of his voice.

Yuri looked up at Otabek, before taking the phone and putting it on speaker. “Really? What kind of news? What's going on?” It was an odd coincidence that he needed to talk to him, and now, Artur was calling with his own news.

“It's… my editing company, they want me to come into the office more, and they're moving locations,” he said. “It… it's out of the country, Yuri, but it's not like you'd never see me. Of course, I'll call you all the time, and in fact, I'm being sent to Kyushu.”

Yuri paused for a second, because how much of a fucking coincidence was this. “You... are you serious? Because if so, that is the biggest fucking coincidence ever…” There was no way that this was really happening because stuff like this didn’t happen. And not to him, either.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Artur spoke again. “Are you fucking moving to fucking Japan? What the fuck?” He started laughing.

Yuri started laughing, too, because he wasn’t sure what else to do in a situation like this! “Otabek's here, you're on speaker, and he and I were just talking about you,” he said. “You see, we want Viktor and Yuuri to coach us, and they're moving to Hasetsu, so... I guess we are now, too, and we were talking about moving Dedushka in with us.”

Artur paused again. “No. You aren't doing that. Yuratchka, you two should get to enjoy being a young couple in love. And, wouldn't it be better for Nikolai to live in a house? A place that has at least one person at home all the time? I think he would feel like he's inconveniencing you, and I honestly think you may end up inconvenienced,” he explained. “Don't get mad, just… you know, you and Otabek like having a certain amount of freedom that comes with living alone, and that's a perfectly healthy freedom I don't think Nikolai wants to interrupt. Besides, this way Sasha and I have another edge over Amina - we're stuck between two houses and we want the bigger place. He's family now, isn't he? And it's not like Amina, and I have our… freedoms, anymore, with Sasha around, so… why not? It would be good for him, to have a young child around.”

Yuri thought about that for a moment. It wasn’t something he had considered. He was used to having to worry about Dedushka on his own. It never occurred to him that Artur would want to help, and would consider his grandfather family because of him. “I think that might work. I mean, obviously we'll have to talk to him, but I think that sounds like a good compromise... if you don't mind, of course.” He looked up at Otabek. “And he’d only be a couple of hours away, too…”

Otabek nodded head. “I agree that having a child in the house will be good for him.”

“Of course I don't mind, and well… see, we won’t be necessarily a couple of hours away,” Artur said. “We wanted to be close to Hasetsu. If we go with the bigger house, we'll only be about a half hour away. I'll have an hour commute both ways, but I knew you'd be in Hasetsu whenever you were in Japan, so it seemed like the natural move to make. And I'm young; I can handle a big commute.”

“That's even better then. I think it'll work out,” Yuri said, still a bit amazed that a perfect solution seemed to have fallen in his lap. “I just... thank you. I was so worried about all of this and just... thank you.” He was a bit overwhelmed right now, that Artur loved him so much to help him out like this. He knew, of course, but he kept getting constantly reminded of how much really did love him. Dedushka was really not Artur’s problem, but he supposed he was right. Nikolai was his family now, too.

“Yuratchka, I always have your back, and I am always gonna make sure you have what you need,” he said. “I promised, didn't I?”

Otabek put a hand on Yuri's shoulder, just in case Yuri got emotional because he thought he himself probably would. Yuri nodded leaning into Otabek, tears coming to his eyes. “Yeah, you did,” Yuri said. “Thank you still.” Otabek kissed the side of Yuri's head.

“Of course, solnyshko… please forgive me for saying this, but I know Otabek isn't someone I can embarrass you in front of,” he said. “You're my son. I promised you the day you were born I'd never let anyone hurt you, and look how you've been hurt since I've been away. Not anymore. I don't want anything but love for my boy. And you'll always be my boy, solnyshko.”

Tears started flowing down Yuri’s cheeks at his words, and he nodded even though Artur couldn’t hear it, and snuggled into Otabek. “Yeah, I know, and I'm... glad you're around. I really am.”

“I'm glad to be around, Yuratchka. I'm so glad,” he said, sounding a bit tearful himself. “I'm glad I'll continue to, as well. I guess we'll figure everything out when we make the move, but I won't be far from Hasetsu. I'll never be far from my boy.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm glad, too,” Yuri said. “I was worried about losing what we've been working on if I moved, and now... I don't have to worry about that.”

Artur laughed. “I was worried about the same thing,” he admitted. “I'm glad neither of us had anything to worry about.”

“Heh, so am I. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders,” Yuri told him. “I guess now I need to talk to Viktor. And hope he didn't actually order the matching sweatsuits.”

“Matching… sweatsuits?” Artur asked, sounding as if didn’t quite believe what he had just heard. “Really?” He gave a light laugh. “I admit I don’t know Viktor that well yet, but that does sound like something he would do.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “God, I fucking swear if he does, I’ll…”

Otabek pressed a light kiss to the side of Yuri’s face. “He’s just excited, that’s all.”

Yuri groaned because there as no way in fucking hell he was going to wear matching sweatsuits with Viktor. No matter what the old man said. “I know, but still…” He was glad that Viktor was excited about the whole prospect of coaching him, but sometimes Viktor’s excitement made him want to pull his hair out.

Artur just chuckled on the other end of the line. “Hey, listen, I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay, Yuratchka?”

Yuri smiled and nodded. “Yeah, okay, talk to you later then,” he said before they ended the call. He looked up at Otabek, the smile still on his face. “It looks like I was worried about nothing. I mean, not that we wouldn’t have been able to remain in touch if he wasn’t moving, but… it helps, and it’ll be good being able to have Dedushka nearby.” He would be closer than he was now, in fact. All of this made Yuri feel better. Artur would be close because while he knew Otabek was right and that they could stay close if they were separated, it would be easier with him closer. He would feel better knowing Nikolai was close, too.

Otabek smiled at him, pressing another soft kiss to the side of his face. “I’m glad you feel good about this, Kotenka,” he said. “Now, did you still want your collar?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” he said. Yuri hated not wearing it sometimes. It always made him feel so safe and loved. A reminder that Otabek was always there for him, always loved him no matter what.

Beka gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Yuri smiled at his boyfriend’s retreating back as he went over and got the collar. Yuri held his hair up as his boyfriend attached put it around his neck. Moving was going to be a bit scary - he had never lived in a foreign country before, unlike Otabek - but he knew he would be okay. Together, they could accomplish anything.

#yoi fanfiction #ic #one-shot #drabble #otayuri #blog canon #plot #life-changing career-changing decision

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kasumi-chou · 6 years

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The Engagement Party (Part Three)

“Are they getting along?”

Yuuri gave a small hum at Dina’s question as he peaked into the lounge room, checking to make sure that Mila and Yuri were okay. The children seemed to be happily chatting while patting Potya, seeming to get along from where they were standing.

“Yurasha.” He turned his attention away from Yuri and towards Nikolai, who was staring at him from the main couch.

“Yes?” he called out as he walked towards the man, pausing behind the back of the couch.

“Have you eaten?” Nikolai asked, arching an eyebrow. He stared at the man for a moment before flushing a nervous smile.

“I’m fine,” he tried to ensure the man.

“Yuuri,” Minako piped up from the armchair nearby, “You need to eat.”

“Even on days when you are not dancing or exercising, food is important,” Lilia spoke up, earning a nod of agreement from Yakov.

“Go eat something,” Nikolai demanded, waving him off. He stood there a moment before sighing and heading back to the dining room where Dina still stood in the doorway, watching Mila and Yuri closely.

“Dianka!” Dina’s partner called out, “Leave the children be!”

He smiled at the pout Dina sent towards her partner – a beautiful woman with gorgeous red hair that she shared with her daughter, and stunning green eyes.

“But what if-” Dina started before trailing off at the look sent her way. He gently patted Dina’s arm as he walked passed, earning a huff in response.

He walked towards the spread of food laid out, wondering what to eat that would satisfy the group of adults in the next room.

“What are these?” He jumped before glancing to the side to see Phichit standing there with pirozhki in hand.

“A pirozhki,” he said while picking up one for himself and breaking it in half, “Katsudon pirozhki to be exact. Breaded pork cutlets with an omelette, wrapped in pastry.”

“So, basically, everything I shouldn’t be eat?” Phichit questioned while smiling at him. He snorted out a laugh while nodding his head.

“Sounds about right,” he agreed, taking a bit out of the pirozhki in his hand. Phichit smiled while taking a small bite and turning his back to the food.

“The house looks amazing,” Phichit mumbled with a mouth full of food. He snorted out a chuckle as he followed Phichit’s lead, turning away from the food and looking at the group of people in the room.

The mix of ballerinas, skaters and partners were in a small circle near the drinks, arguing over something in English – though he was sure that Christophe was having just as much trouble understanding the heavily accented English then he would Russian.

Victor seemed to be enjoying himself, having engaged Vera in a heavy debate that the ballerina refused to back down on – much to Vera’s partners embarrassment.

“Victor did everything,” he told Phichit before taking another bite of his pirozhki.

“I haven’t seen him this happy before,” Phichit said, “We haven’t been friends for that long. This is actually me first years in seniors. I never expected Victor Nikiforov to talk to me, let along befriend me.” The Thai skater let out a chuckle while turning to look at him. “But I have noticed the differences in him in the small amount of time we have been friends. He seems happier every time I see him.”

“I haven’t really done anything,” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hey, don’t put yourself done like that. I’m sure you did something,” Phichit huffed, nudging him with his shoulder, “Victor seems like the type of person that only really needs someone waiting at home for him.”

“And someone to feed him, and do his washing and walk his dog,” he listed, earning an amused snort from Phichit.

“Does he do the dishes at least?” Phichit asked, clearly trying to hid his amusement behind his pirozhki.

“Every day,” he sighed while glancing down at the ring on his finger, “He does the dishes, he brings me flowers every week, he spoils Yurochka rotten, he makes sure that I have everything I need.”

“So, husband material?” Phichit said, a smirk on his lips.

“I wouldn’t have proposed if he wasn’t,” he stated simply. Phichit gasped beside him, causing him to blink in surprise at the wide-eyed look on the Thai skaters face.

“CHRISTOPHE!” Phichit shouted, catching most of adult’s groups attention.

“Yes?” Christophe questioned, arching an eyebrow as he was waved towards them.

“What?” he said in confusion as the Swiss skater was waved over to their little group.

“Yes?” Christophe repeated when he was standing next to Phichit.

“Victor wasn’t the one that proposed,” Phichit told him before pointing towards him with his half eaten pirozhki, “Yuuri did.”

Christophe stared at him for a moment before a smirk crossed his lips.

“Oh, I need to hear this,” Christophe said while stepping towards him and wrapping an arm around his.

“What?” he mumbled in confusion, glancing between the two skaters.

“Chris! Phichit! What are you doing with my fiancé?” Victor voice demanded. He glanced towards Victor with a confused look on his face.

“Getting some juicy gossip~” Christophe stated simply.

“I wanna hear some juicy gossip!” Anna’s voice rang out.

“Yes, please share with the group,” Dina said. He let out a squeak as he was pulled towards the group of adults.

“So,” Phichit sung, lopping his arm around his free arm, locking him between the Swiss and Thai skater, “Do you want to repeat what you just told me.”

“Um,” he mumbled, glancing between all the people around him, “Which part?” he questioned.

“What you said after I ask if Victor was husband material,” Phichit said, clearly smirking towards Victor as he spoke.

“I wouldn’t have proposed if he wasn’t?” he repeated, earning a group gasp.

“Oh my god,” Dina mumbled. The whole turned to Victor who cheeks were tinted a bright red.

“In my defence,” he mumbled, a little high pitched in embarrassment, “Yuuri gave me a list of things I had to do before I was allowed to propose and I haven’t finished the list when he proposed.”

“When have you ever listened before?” Christophe questioned, earning a gasp from Victor.

“How dare you!” Victor mumbled, pouting towards the Swiss skater.

“So,” Vera spoke up, “How did Yuuri propose?”

“Oh, it was so romantic,” Victor sighed, sending him a bright smile. “We were in Japan, and I had organised a date night for the two of us. A lovely meal and plans to watch the sunset together,” Victor let out a happily little sigh, “While the sun was setting, I was gushing over how perfect the view was and I turn around and Yuuri is down on one knee, a ring box in hand.”

“He responded no at first,” he pointed out, earning a gasp from the group.

“Hey! Hey!” Victor whined, holding up his hands, “I had been stating for months that I was the one going to propose!”

“He did say yes,” he ensured the group.

“Well, I would hope so, otherwise this party would be a lie,” Dina partner pointed out, earning a chuckle from the group.

“He said yes and then proposed to me later when I showed him I got matching rings,” he explained, earning a coo from the girls in the group.

“He never responded to my proposal,” Victor whined.

“I proposed first, you really expect me to say no?” he huffed, causing the group to burst into laughter at the pout Victor sent him in response.

“You are lucky you are cute,” Victor huffed, causing him to blush in embarrassment.

Skater Next Door AU

AO3 Skater Next Door / Skater In Training

#yoi #yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #yuri plisetsky #yurio plisetsky #victuuri #phichit chulanont #christophe giacometti #skater next door au

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jbankai89 · 6 years

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Never Let Me Go [36/40]

A/N: See glossary at the end for a bunch of Russian/Japanese/Thai words (mostly Russian). If there's any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know so I can fix it—most of the Cyrillic to Roman Alphabet transliteration is done by me, and the Thai translation was done by Google Translate, so mistakes are totally possible. :P Next update will be April 12th.

Chapter Thirty-Five – Alvinia

Less than forty-five minutes after giving birth, Yuri was roused from his half-asleep doze by Otabek, who was still bearing a warm, New Father glow about him. Alvinia was in his arms, but less sleepy and more fussy, and Yuri was immediately thrown into high alert.

“What is it?” he asked, “is Alvinia okay?”

“She's fine,” Otabek said softly, “the nurse thinks she might be hungry, so she suggested I wake you up and have you try feeding her. She offered formula, but I wanted you to decide whether or not you wanted to breastfeed before I gave her an answer.”

“No, I can do it,” Yuri said, and held out his arms to his mate. Otabek passed the baby over, her eyes squinting up at Yuri as she whimpered, and seemed to be ready to start screaming at any moment.

Feeling slightly awkward, Yuri supported his daughter with one arm while he unbuttoned the front of his hospital gown, and carefully lifted Alvinia to his nipple.

He knew his own biology well enough that he wasn't unnerved that he could produce milk, but it was still odd to see, especially considering his chest had not grown all that much, despite Yuuri's promises that he would be able to produce enough to feed his child without issue. Yuri knew that omegas very rarely grew breasts like beta women did, but he still found it hard to believe that it would be enough for his child.

Alvinia whined a little, her tiny hand unwinding from the blanket that she was swaddled in to rest against Yuri's chest, and his smile broadened as the little girl fumbled, as though she wasn't sure what to do. After a moment however, she seemed to get the hang of it and latched on gently as she began to nurse.

Yuri smiled softly as he stared at her—his tiny little miracle. He reached out to stroke her soft, chubby cheek, and she grabbed hold of Yuri's finger, her little hand curling around the digit in a surprisingly strong grip while she ate.

“God, she is so perfect,” Yuri whispered as he held her. “I can't believe we made this. I think after everything that happened...she makes it worth it.” Yuri paused, and glanced back up at Otabek. “Don't you think?”

“Yeah,” Otabek murmured as he watched them, “I mean, I dreamed about this for ages, I always wanted it, but seeing you hold her...it's more perfect than I thought it would be. She's...she's our little girl.”

“She is,” Yuri agreed as Alvinia seemed to have had enough, and Yuri pulled her back from his chest, while he gazed down into her little eyes, still partially closed like someone had just flicked on the lights for her, but he could still see the bits of blue of her irises as he lifted her up to gently rub her back until she let out a tiny, milky burp, then settled back down again.

“So...” Otabek hedged as he leant forward and offered the pair another smile while Yuri buttoned up his hospital gown. “You think you're rested enough to show her off a little? The others are dying to meet her, and I've been trying to put them off for a bit to let you rest, but I think that will be easier for you to actually get some real rest after they've gotten to meet her.”

“I think so,” Yuri said as he rocked Alvinia. “I mean, I'm still exhausted, but as long as I'm not expected to stand up, I think I'm good.”

“No one expects you to move for another day or two, and when we go home, and you can rest as much as you like—plus, we've got about five eager nannies at home to help,” Otabek teased as he stood up and offered Yuri a gentle kiss, before he bowed forward and pecked Alvinia lightly on the top of her head. Yuri laughed at the remark, and smiled faintly at Otabek as he moved to the door and slipped outside.

“Okay, Alvinia, you ready to meet our crazy family?” he asked softly as he continued to rock her, and she blinked up at him sleepily. “Let's see...there's your Prádyed, Nikokai—he's the only normal one out of all of us—he's quiet, but he loved you even before you were born, and I know he'll love you forever and ever. Then there is your Dyédya, Viktor, he's annoying as hell, but he has a good heart, and your...um...Ojis, Yuuri and Minami—Yuuri is like the perfect mother, but don't ever tell him I said that. And Minami will probably get you into all sorts of trouble, like dye your hair purple when I'm not looking. Then the last, I suppose, is your Leung, Phichit. He's almost as nice as your Äke. He's sweet and doting, and he's hyperactive and annoying, but he just loves all the kids, and I know he'll love you too, probably because you're the cutest of the four. You'll grow up with Yuriko, Viktoria, and Antonia like sisters, or cousins, but even though none of your are actually related, it's a more perfect family than anyone I've ever known...”

Yuri trailed off his monologue just as there was a soft knock on the door, and he glanced up just in time to see his mate standing there with a line of familiar faces behind him.

“Hey,” Yuri said, his voice cracking a little with fatigue, and he nodded, inviting for them to come in.

“Hey,” Yuuri said first as they all grabbed chairs and circled him, except, he noted, Viktor, who seemed to be absent. Yuuri did not miss Yuri's look of confusion and explained, “he went home with the girls a few hours ago,” Yuuri explained with a soft smile. “Once they're awake, he'll come back over to meet the girls' new little sister. What did you name her?”

“Alvinia,” Yuri replied with a small smile, and turned to his grandfather, who was sitting quietly in one of the chairs while the others stood up and bowed over him to coo at his daughter. “Grandpa, do you want to start the first round of Pass the Baby, and meet your právnōchka?”

Nikolai beamed with joy at the offer, and Yuri carefully handed her over. A familiar look of quiet awe passed over the older man's face as he rocked her in one arm, and reached out a hand to her, and the newborn wrapped a tiny hand around his weather-worn index finger.

“Hello there, little one,” he said softly, “goodness, Yuri, she looks so much like Otabek, but she will have your eyes, I think. She is a beautiful child. I am so proud of you; you endured so much, and look what came out of it all.”

Yuri smiled weakly as he wiped his teary eyes, and Otabek wrapped an arm around him while he sat on the edge of the bed, and covertly snapped a picture with his phone of Nikolai holding Alvinia.

“Who would like to hold her next?” Nikolai asked, and chortled when both Phichit and Minami rushed at him, while Yuuri held out his arms in an almost commanding sort of way, while he flexed his hands as though to silently say, gimmie.

“I haven't held a baby in nearly ten hours,” Yuuri proclaimed as he continued to hold his arms out. “I'll go through withdrawal soon if I don't get my fix.”

“Baby Addiction,” Minami said with a mournful sigh as Nikolai chuckled and carefully passed Alvinia over to Yuuri. “Too bad they don't make a patch for that...”

“They do,” Yuuri replied distractedly as he smiled down at the infant and rocked her gently, “it's called having more babies.”

“As someone who has to live with a pack of screaming infants, I'd like to veto that treatment,” Phichit interjected, and everyone laughed.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and everyone glanced up at the same time to see a very tired-looking Viktor coming in with a stroller of three happy babies, and two drink trays of seven extra-large coffees, all labelled with their initials, and a box of doughnuts balanced on the top of the stroller's hood. Viktor was grinning at them in a slightly dazed sort of way, and he was dressed more casually than Yuri had ever seen him, in a black T-shirt and jeans, with his hair in disarray and his sunglasses perched on top of his head.

“Morning, everyone!” he called as he let himself in, and grinned as he held out the trays and pushed the stroller with his wrists, while the girls all squealed with delight and reached out for their mother. “I come bearing coffee, doughnuts, and sleep-deprived toddlers.”

“Oh, God,” Yuuri said with a laugh as he carefully passed Alvinia over to Minami, and got up to help his mate. “How long did they sleep?”

“I zonked out at about five A.M., and when I woke up Antonia had somehow gotten into Viktoria's crib. I think this is an omen.”

“Of doom?” Minami asked as he glanced up, and Yuri snorted as he watched Minami with his child.

“Of them beginning to crawl, dipshit.”

“Yuri, language!” Viktor called teasingly, “your little one is like a sponge, and she will soak all those bad words up!”

“She can say fuck, shit, and cunt every other word and she'll still be a perfect little lady,” Yuri replied as he watched Minami pass Alvinia to Phichit, and the alpha all but squealed when he scooped her up, carefully cradling her as he lifted her close to his face, and she reached up to touch his face clumsily with her little hand.

“Ohh, Antonia,” Yuuri cooed while he scooped his middle triplet up and hugged her close. “Were you being a little terror for your poor, sleepy Otets? That's my good girl!”

“Yuuri!” Viktor squawked, “how could you be so cruel? I'm running on like four hours of sleep, here!”

“I'll see your five hours and raise you a forty-five minutes, right after pushing a bowling ball through the eye of a needle,” Yuri grunted from the bed as Phichit handed Alvinia back to him, and her eyes flitted open a little, though they were still narrowed and squinted.

“Get back to us in a few months, kitten,” Viktor teased as he sauntered over and offered Yuri one of the coffees, as well as a chocolate doughnut on a napkin. Yuri shifted his grip on the baby so that she was cradled in one of his arms, and triple checked that her head was supported before he accepted the warm cup, and Viktor set the pastry down on his table, which had been pushed to one side. “Alvin, right?”

“Alvinia, asshole,” Yuri shot back, his tone weak and halfhearted as he sipped the coffee and grimaced. “What the hell is this? It tastes like piss.”

“Decaf,” Viktor replied, raising his eyebrows a little in surprise. “It's best if you don't overdo right now, especially if you plan to breastfeed her. Hyper baby is not fun—believe me.”

“He's not exaggerating,” Yuuri added with a chuckle as he set Antonia back down and picked up the next fussiest tot. “I mean, it doesn't change their attitude much, but I did notice a difference.”

“I want real coffee,” Yuri whined as he set it down and took his baby in both arms again when she began to fuss. “I hate decaf.”

“Quite the picture of a glowing new mother, isn't he?” Viktor asked sarcastically, and Otabek snorted.

“Watch it,” Otabek warned Viktor while he rested a hand on Yuri's knee. “Yuri has really good aim with his pillows.”

“What?” Viktor blinked, and Yuri smirked a little.

“I threw a pillow at Beka once or twice during the...event.”

“Once or twice,” Otabek mocked with a snort, “I think you're missing a few hundred digits in there, dearheart.”

“Shut up, honey,” Yuri shot back sweetly, and everyone laughed.

“So,” Viktor said as he drew up a chair and made space for the huge stroller, which Yuuri rolled in as though they planned to let the triplets hold thew new baby too. “Do I get a turn with the little poop machine? She is so cute, Yuri, you must be thrilled.”

“Yeah, she is pretty adorable,” Yuri agreed with a grin, and handed his child over to the silver-haired Alpha. “And she's the spitting image of her Äke. With any luck, she'll have my impeccable vocabulary.”

“So planning for her first words to be fuck you?” Phichit teased, and Otabek snorted.

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” Yuri scoffed as he watched Viktor coo over his infant for a moment longer before he passed her back to Yuri, while Yuuri lifted Yuriko onto the end of Yuri's bed with her dummy in her mouth. Immediately, she rolled onto her belly and started to wiggle like a fish. “I don't swear that much.”

He paused, and like an instant replay, he realized what he'd just said, and another chorus of laughs surrounded him.

“No further evidence, your honour,” Phichit teased, and Yuri snorted as Viktor reached out to cage Yuriko in as she got up on all fours, and began to crawl shakily across his bedspread, and four adults swooped in at once to stop her from crawling off the edge.

“Come on, Yuriko,” Viktor cooed, as he turned her around to face Yuri, and sat her up. “Meet your baby sister.”

The eight-month-old blinked bemusedly at Yuri, her light pink dummy obscuring a good portion of the lower half of her face, while she stared up at Yuri and Alvinia with wide blue eyes.

Yuri decided to indulge Viktor, and carefully held out the newborn to Yuriko. The adults all seemed to hold their breath as they watched, and Viktor and Yuuri seemed to be dying inside from the cuteness—

Until Yuriko reached forward, and promptly stuck her finger up Alvinia's nose.

The move immediately woke up the newborn, and she promptly began to wail. Yuriko's eyes went wide with alarm at the sound, and the dummy fell from her mouth as she joined in with Alvinia's cries.

“Oh Alvinia, you poor thing!” Yuri yelped as he drew her close and began to rock her, while he glared over her tiny shoulder at Viktor, who was looking appropriately shamefaced as he rocked his own daughter in his arms. “Is your little nose okay?”

“I think she's okay,” Otabek said consolingly as he checked her over while Yuri held onto her. “She just got a scare.”

“We better keep an eye on them once you take her home,” Yuuri said seriously while he picked up Viktoria, who had begun to fuss from all the noise. ��Newborns are so delicate, we don't want the girls to accidentally hurt her.”

“I think you guys are gonna need a new blanket term for your kids, given that now we have four girls,” Otabek pointed out, then glanced at Yuuri's stomach, “and possibly another on the way.”

“Can we please not discuss the whoops baby?” Yuuri asked weakly, his face flushing pink, and Yuri snorted a little at Yuuri's wording. “I am fighting total mental shutdown at the idea of five teenage girls in one house.”

“Better another girl than a boy,” Minami teased, “that kid leaves the toilet seat up once and they'll probably get murdered.”

“What happened to I want a house filled with children?” Yuri asked Yuuri mockingly as Alvinia began to settle down, and his flush seemed to deepen.

“I'm getting Viktor neutered after this one,” Yuuri replied teasingly, a small, amused smile spreading across his lips when Viktor, who had been sipping his coffee, promptly sprayed it out of his nose.

“It's not my fault that you're as fertile as a freaking bunny rabbit,” Viktor retorted as he mopped up himself and his daughter, who he had been holding. “I didn't mean it!”

“Can we please change the subject before we all learn way more details about Viktor and Yuuri's sex life than I'd like to know?” Yuri interrupted, and Minami and Phichit howled with laughter.

~*~

Yuri stayed in the hospital with Alvinia for about a day and a half. Alvinia was checked over, her newborn vaccines were administered, and she was given a clean bill of health. Otabek was also gifted with the honour of giving his daughter her first bath, with the nurse showing him how to do it without getting water on her umbilical cord.

Everyone else went home, keen to finally get some rest, and visited Yuri and Alvinia in shifts while the others babysat the triplets.

Except Nikolai, who refused to leave the hospital without them.

“All right, Mr Plisetsky,” the doctor proclaimed as he brought in a wheelchair for the new mother around noon on the second day, “you're free to go. Everything looks good, and barring complications, you and Alvinia should be just fine. Now, I don't want you having sex for at least six weeks—”

“—six weeks?” Otabek interrupted with a note of alarm in his voice. Yuri did his best not to laugh at Otabek's reaction, while the doctor's expression became even more stern.

“Six. Weeks.” The doctor frowned at Otabek, who grimaced a little and bowed his head. “Congratulations again, both of you. Yuri, you've been discharged, so you four can go home.”

“Thanks, doctor.” Yuri smiled while he rocked Alvinia in his arms. The doctor nodded once, and left them alone. Yuri adjusted his grip on Alvinia as he took Otabek's hand as he began to help him manoeuvre out of the bed and towards the waiting chair.

“If it makes you feel better, I'm not sure I can wait six weeks, either—” Yuri began, but broke off abruptly with a hiss of pain as his bottom began to sear with a dull, throbbing pain ache from the slight movement from the bed to the wheelchair. “Okay, yes I can—I may never have sex again.”

“Don't worry,” Otabek said with a soft chuckle as he moved to stroke Yuri's hair, before he bowed forward and offered his mate a gentle kiss. “In a few weeks, the pain will all be gone, and you'll feel much better.”

“I hope so,” Yuri mumbled as Otabek straightened up and began to wheel Yuri towards the recovery room door. “I'm not enjoying the idea of waddling around forever like I had a cannon up my ass.”

“Well, you can rest when we get home; Phichit and the others promised to move our bed back upstairs.”

“Why am I not comforted by that, I wonder?” Yuri asked, and Otabek snorted.

“Viktor promised to be more careful this time, plus Minami is helping, and Yuuri is supervising,” Otabek said, and Yuri laughed softly.

“I can't wait to hear the story of how Viktor nearly killed himself this time...”

“Have you no faith in us?” Otabek asked as he wheeled him out into the hall, and headed for the waiting room, where Nikolai had been waiting for them to finish with the doctor.

“None whatsoever.”

“Oh, thanks,” Otabek retorted, and Yuri smirked to himself. “I'll have you know us alphas are completely capable of doing things without paying someone else to do it—hey, stop laughing!”

“Is Viktor getting concussed by an AWOL mattress your idea of completely capable?” he asked between bouts of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes as Otabek slowed his wheelchair to a stop in front of Nikolai.

“You certainly seem to be in good spirits,” his grandfather remarked as he smiled down at Yuri and Alvinia. “And how is my právnōchka doing today?”

“She's fine,” Yuri replied with a small smile as he rocked the sleeping baby in his arms. “She's been sleeping mostly, but woke up long enough to eat.”

“Oh, you're a lucky young man,” Nikolai said with a chortle as he turned, and they began to make their way out of the hospital. “You were a little terror as a baby. Your poor Mat` could never get you to settle down, I think you screamed nonstop for the first six months of your life.”

“Sounds like you haven't changed much,” Otabek teased, and Yuri reached up to swat him, making both his grandfather and his mate laugh.

They stopped outside the Mercedes, and to Yuri's amazement, a back-facing baby seat had been set up in the back of the car perfectly. It was perched behind the passenger seat, and Otabek proudly showed Yuri how securely the thing had been strapped in before Yuri allowed Otabek to relieve the omega of the baby and carefully strap her in, adjusting the size of the cushions carefully to keep her from being jostled while they drove.

“I'm impressed,” Yuri teased as Otabek circled the car with the wheelchair and helped Yuri into the back seat next to Alvinia. “You managed to get the car seat in without any disasters.” He glanced up and looked at Otabek, then flicked his gaze to his grandfather. He arched a brow, and looked back to his mate, who had suddenly found the stitching on the wheelchair fascinating. Yuri coughed pointedly, and Otabek's face began to flush red. When he finally glanced up, Yuri raised an eyebrow at him inquiringly, and Nikolai chuckled warmly.

“Nikolai may have helped a little...” Otabek muttered as he glanced away, “...erm, he may have fixed the disaster that I created...”

“You are hopeless,” Yuri said with a snort, and Otabek offered him a weak, apologetic smile.

~*~

After Otabek helped Yuri shift from the wheelchair to the back seat next to Alvinia, he packed the wheelchair into the trunk of the car while Nikolai took the passenger seat. Otabek drove, driving comically slowly while simultaneously checking his mirrors almost obsessively. Alvinia whined and fussed, and Yuri cooed at his daughter as the car moved.

“Oh, precious, you don't like speed either, do you?” Yuri asked as he rocked her seat as best he could, and moved his other hand to lightly stroke her little chubby cheek. “You must be mine.”

“I'm barely going thirty kilometres!” Otabek complained from the front of the car, “I'm trying to go slow, all right?”

“Any slower, and we'd be going backwards,” Nikolai pointed out, and Yuri snorted when Otabek scowled, and he sped up incrementally.

Chuckling, Yuri turned his attention back to Alvinia. Her face was screwed up and tense, and she was whining and fussing, but not quite crying yet.

“Beka,” Yuri called, “I don't mean to rush you, but I have a feeling that she's a little time bomb that's going to go off any minute—so either speed up, or pull over so that I can calm her down.”

Otabek glanced into the rear view mirror, and Yuri could see a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth with a conflicted look in his eyes.

“My dear alpha,” Yuri said with mock sweetness in his voice. “If you keep going under the speed limit, we'll get pulled over. Just relax, and speed up. Alvinia's fussing, but she's not hurt; this is just new for her, and it might take a couple trips to get her used to cars. All right?”

Otabek nodded, and moved up to sixty. Yuri offered him a warm smile, and did his best to swallow his amusement. If Otabek's attitude over the last two days was any indication, Yuri could assume that as they watched their little girl grow up, Otabek would likely be a complete and total pushover.

And you, my little one, will have your Äke wrapped around your little finger, Yuri thought as he rocked the car seat, and stroked Alvinia's cheek while they turned around the corner and their house came into view.

“Welcome home, Alvinia,” Yuri murmured to his daughter, and she let out a tiny sigh as she finally began to settle.

A/N: Russian: Prádyed – Great-Grandfather, Dyédya – Uncle, Právnōchka – Great-Granddaughter Japanese: Oji – Uncle (Ojisan is the more formal version) Thai: Leung - Uncle

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

NLMG Masterpost

#otayuri #otayuri abo #otayuri omegaverse #otayuri fic

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reivenesque · 7 years

Text

A Family We Chose for Ourselves CH8

Chapter 8: Noora (6717 words)

William reflects on his friendship with Chris and his relationship with Noora now that's everything has finally come to ahead.

“So, your Chris with my Eva, huh?”

Noora says it as more of a statement than an actual question. They’re sitting snuggled comfortably on the bench in the hospital garden; Noora is curled up against his side, resting her head on his chest and he has his arms around her shoulder holding her close.

“You do know that if he hurts her, Sana and I both are going to hold you personally responsible.”

William leans back slightly in an over exaggerated show of being taken aback. “Me? How am I responsible?”

“You just are,” Noora says, as if it’s in any way a legitimate answer. “Also, you should know that if you hurt me, you’re going to have to deal with Sana personally.”

The small chill that runs through his spine at the mention couldn’t be faked. William really didn’t know all that much about Noora’s friends, but one thing the Penetrators all agree on is that the Muslim girl is absolutely terrifying—and pretty hot, but with a much larger ratio of scary to hot. Vilde is clingy and a little needy, not that William would actually say those words out loud especially in front of Noora. He’d grown fond of his nuts and he intended for that relationship to last a lifetime, something that wasn’t guaranteed if he insulted Vilde in front of Noora again. He really doesn’t know their Chris at all besides the fact that his Chris seemed to like her a lot.

He was rather confused about that unexpected friendship in the beginning. He and Chris and a couple of guys were headed to the canteen during lunch when they passed by the blonde girl and her chubby friend in the hall. He didn’t know Vilde back then, so the sight of the two girls standing in the hallway really didn’t concern him at all. But Chris had raised a hand in greeting and said, “Hey, Chris.”

And one of the girls mimicked the action with a chipper, “Hey yourself, Chris,” with a wide smile.

They both shared a crisp high-five before he and Chris continued on their way and the two girls returned to whatever conversation they were having.

His immediate reaction had been a surprised, “What the hell, man?”

But Chris just grinned one of his Cheshire cat grins and said, “She’s cool.” And that had been that.

It wasn’t until months later after Chris got with Eva at the Halloween party and the news had gotten out and Iben threw a bitch fit in the courtyard of the school that William finally found out about the Adventures of Chris and Chris, as he’d put it.

Girls were so fucking complicated.

But looking at himself in that moment, smelling the sweet scent of Noora’s shampoo when he rests his chin on the top of her head, he thinks that old William was such a fucking asshole. He’s pretty sure Noora and ninety percent of the Nissen girls can and would be more than happy to attest to that.

Old William was more than happy to take whatever those girls were offering and accept everything they were putting out. He never asked for any of it, but they offered, so what hot blooded young man wouldn’t take advantage of that if they were in his shoes? He was young and he was horny and he didn’t need to explain himself to anyone; not his parents, not the school—it was his life and he was going to live it the way he wanted. He knew first-hand how short it could be and how everything could just change in a split second without warning. He made a promise to himself long ago to never live in the past or to dwell on what was already in the past.

He slept with girls and whenever it was done, it was in the past and he moved on to other girls and better things. It was an uncomplicated time and sex was an uncomplicated outlet. Girls wanted what he could give them so he gave it.

Vilde was the same; the same pretty face, same overeager desperation and lack of any real self-respect.

Looking back on it now, William realizes that the only one who lacked self-respect back then was him.

But then this blonde girl happened; her and her blood red lipstick walked up to him in a way no other girl had ever stepped up to him before. She cut him down a peg or two right in front of his friends, her friends and half the school and in that moment after she finished, William just couldn’t focus his attention on anything other than the fact that this was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on.

She also didn’t want him which made him want her more.

William was used to getting what he wanted. His parents gave him nothing but bought him everything. Nikolai was—Nikolai was and is a dirt speck in his life. He loved his brother but he also hated him and feared him at the same time.

After far as he’s concerned, the only brother he really has is Chris and the Penetrators; they’re the only family he really needs because they were the only people who were there for him when he needed them the most.

Chris in particular is both a bright spot and a sore spot for William. A bright spot because Chris is his oldest and closest friend; the person William could count on at any time under any circumstances to have his back and be a shoulder to lean on. He’s also a sore spot because William never seemed to have his back in return. Every time Chris had gotten hurt it had been because of William. William was always starting fights and egging people on even when it wasn’t his intention and Chris was always there backing him up even when the fight had nothing to do with him. Even when it had to do with William’s own family because Chris couldn’t stand Nikolai even though they’d only ever met once.

William had asked him once why, and Chris had said that it was because he didn’t like the way Nikolai’s presence affected William; the way it would make William put up his walls and just shut down emotionally; the way it turned William into a different, almost an unrecognizable person. A person Chris really didn’t like. Up until that point, William didn’t even realize that he’d been doing it.

Chris was almost always over at his apartment, he hated being at his own because he hated looking around at his things and seeing his parents presence in everything he owned, but he’d avoid it like the plague whenever Nikolai had one of his episodes and would pop on over without warning like he owned the place. William hated when he did that; the apartment didn’t belong solely to him, but it had become his home and it felt like Nikolai tainted the place bit by bit with his presence every single time he came. It was also the unsettling feeling that his brother could just sense whenever William was at his happiest and would chose that exact moment to come.

Thoughts of his brother always made him angry but especially now; especially after what he did too Noora. He tries not to dwell on it; it was part of the past, and he learned long ago to leave the past exactly where it was. Nothing could change what happened, and nothing could bring his little sister back.

But sometimes he just gets so enraged, even in his vision he starts seeing red and whenever his anger reached that point, he thinks that if Nikolai were in front of him at that exact moment then he probably would be able to bring himself to kill his own brother. It wasn’t a thought normal people had, but maybe William wasn’t normal after all. Maybe he was a freak like everyone said he was. Maybe he was like his brother after all and that craziness did run in their family.

But he thinks of Noora in those instances; seeing her disappointed face and watching her cry because of him. He should be the one drying her tears, not the one causing them. Truthfully, that’s the only reason he manages to hold himself back even on the days where his anger threatens to consume him. When he remembers Noora’s silence and her distance and finding out that she’d locked herself away in her room for days, not eating, not sleeping. He remembers that and he feels his anger coursing through his body like he’s experiencing everything for the first time all over again.

The emotions and the memories might have been too real and to raw in that moment, William feels himself tensing up on the inside, his fist clenching subconsciously until a pair of small, soft hands reaches over to take his clenched fist and hold it tight in their grasp. He looks down and finds Noora’s gorgeous eyes staring back up at him worriedly. In that moment, he finds his breath caught in his chest and he feels like he’s experiencing the feeling of falling in love with her all over again.

“William,” Noora calls his name softly. “Are you okay?”

Smiling never used to come easy to him; the only person who could really make him smile in the past was Chris, especially when he got into one of his moods and started overdramatically enunciating some poor English word. But smiling around Noora, smiling because of Noora comes almost second nature now. He likes it. He likes the person he is around her because as confident as he’d been to everyone else, the truth was he hated the person he used to be. But at the time that was all he had, he was all he had and old William protected him when no one else was around to do so.

Chris would have, but Chris also had his own family troubles and William would never ask more of him especially because Chris was already willing to give him everything.

“I’m okay,” he says, sparing her a small smile. “Just—thinking.”

“Well don’t hurt yourself too much,” Noora says and he can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter.

Noora always knows the best way to ground him, especially when he feels himself starting to shoulder every little slight and every little mistake; watching it play over and over again in his mind and he can’t do anything to stop himself from doing so. He appreciates it more than he let on.

“I won’t,” he says in reply.

“Thinking about Chris?” Noora asks after a moment, reclaiming her spot curled comfortably into his side, her hands still holding his now unclenched fist tightly, tracing circles and indistinct patterns into the back of his knuckles.

“Among other things.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Noora asks and it doesn’t come across at all condescending, only as a matter of factly and slightly curious.

William gives his words a thought before he answers the question. “Chris is—Chris. He’s been there for me when no one else was. He’s had my back since we were kids and even against Nik—” he stops abruptly, realizing that saying the name might not be the most appropriate line of conversation at this moment, not that it ever would be, for Noora and him both. “He’s just…really important to me. Just like you are.”

Noora is silent after he finishes speaking. But the silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, just thoughtful. “You know, I hated you before.”

"Wow, I am shocked,” William says with the most deadpan tone he could muster.

Noora smacks him gently on the chest with the back of her hand but she has a smile on her face. “I’m being serious right now, so can you actually grow up for like two minutes.”

William pulls up the sleeve of his jacket immediately and looks at his watch. “Okay. You have two minutes.”

“God, you’re incorrigible. Why am I with you again?”

“Because I’m a good lay?”

“William!” Noora pulls out of the embrace with a flustered yelp. “Seriously. Don’t make me demote you back to Wilhelm.”

William holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Your two minutes have been reset, milady.”

Noora huffs, but resumes her position clinging onto his torso and resting her head on his shoulder. “Even before everything, I respected your friendship with him,” she says after a moment and it immediately sobers William up. “Even when I didn’t agree with you or what you did or the way you reacted with your actions and not your head. I realized—or rather, Sana made me realize that maybe I wasn’t all right and you weren’t all wrong. Maybe sometimes we do things for the people we love, even though it isn’t the right thing to do in hindsight. Sana made me realize that maybe, and that’s a small maybe—teensy maybe—that sometimes the wrong thing done for the right reasons can maybe be the right thing after all.”

William is silent when Noora finishes. He honestly expected her to say a lot of things, because Noora usually had a lot of things to say, but he hadn’t been expecting that. “Sana is very smart,” he says finally.

“She is very. I guess we should thank her too, because we probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her.”

“Well I guess I should send her a bouquet of flowers.”

“I’m pretty sure you need to send her more than that; maybe a Russ bus, because that would make Vilde super happy too, and both of us kind of owe her a lot as well.”

William laughs but he can almost hear the sound of the cogwheels turning inside his brain. “Maybe I will,” he says.

Noora’s attention snaps towards him when he says that. “I was just kidding.”

But when William has something on his mind, it stays on his mind. “Perhaps,” he says cryptically. “Also, wasn’t that the quote from the end of Pirates of the Caribbean? The one with Governor Swan an—”

He’s rewarded with another smack on the chest before he can finish and can only laugh cheekily as he attempts to shield himself from any further attack from Noora’s small fists. Eventually the laughter dies down and Noora ceases her onslaught and William gently pries himself from Noora’s side to get to his feet, stretching the kinks out of his joints before holding a hand out to her like an invitation.

“Shall we take a walk?”

“I’m serious about the Russ bus thing, William. I was just kidding,” Noora says exasperatedly, although she really should know William better than that at this point.

William pointedly ignored the statement. “Well if you don’t want to,” he says instead with a mock shrug. “I guess I’ll find one the eager nurses who’s been staring at me nonstop for the past couple of days to walk with me instead,” he says while taking his time to turn around, keeping a his eye and the mocking grin on Noora the whole time.

“You’re such an asshole, Wilhelm,” Noora says, but there’s no bite to her words and she’s smiling when she hops to her feet and reaches over to link her arm around the elbow William is now offering her.

“But I’m your asshole, Noora Amalie Sætre, and like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” he says. He can almost feel Eva’s disembodied presence at his side chiding him mentally until he says the word; “Here.”

Noora just stares at him with wide eyes that speak so much in that moment. “So you’re staying? For real this time?”

The hurt in Noora’s voice when she says the last part hurts him, and he regrets having put her through so much on top of everything else she’s already been through. He thinks he needs to send Eva a nice bouquet of flowers (or a Russ bus) as well for kicking his sorry ass into gear.

“I couldn’t think of a better place to be other than right here and right now,” he says. “With you.”

Noora’s smile in that moment is blinding and William thinks that this is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

Girls really aren’t as complicated as guys like to make them out to be. The only thing they really want is to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally and to no be lied to. It’s just guys who are usually too stupid to realize when they’re thinking with their head instead of their head. Guys don’t deserve girls, just like he doesn’t really deserve Noora.

When he thinks about it more deeply, he realizes that he doesn’t really deserve Chris either.

He’s been a shit friend to Chris for a long time and he didn’t even realize it until now; until he almost lost him for good. As good a boyfriend as he’d been to Noora, a worse friend he’d become to Chris who really didn’t deserve to be treated the way William had been treating him the past couple of months; leaving him behind with barely a notice; expecting him to be there waiting for whenever and if ever William decided to come back. Picking up the phone to call whenever he felt like it fully expecting Chris to be at the other end of the line waiting and not once taking into account his feelings in all this.

The guys had all been weepy and shit at the airport when he was flying out to London; a fact that had become the butt of many jokes from that point on, but William had been too oblivious back then, blinded by his excitement and his happiness at having Noora there by his side to really notice how quiet and reserved Chris had been through the whole thing. Once—just once, he asked Chris if he was okay, but the question hadn’t even been all that sincere. Chris noticed it. He didn’t. Chris had just answered with a casual, “It’s all good, man,” and his easy grin and William just accepted the answer at face value.

William had been too stupid and too blinded back then to realize that nothing was good about Chris at all.

It took months before it even occurred to him that maybe Chris was hurt by him leaving. He comforted himself with excuse that Chris knew of his plans to move to London after school anyway, and he’d been okay with it. Obviously he hadn’t been okay with it at all and it only really occurred to William after that phone call on the day of the attack.

Needless to say, William felt like the worst friend in the history of friends.

He’d spent the whole flight from London thinking and rethinking about Chris; going over the conversation they’d had just hours before; him making jokes and Chris as usual taking it in his stride. Then flashing back to that phone call, the one that has set everything in motion. Chris hadn’t said a word and it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever done.

It really wasn’t until he was on that flight, cut off from all communications, not knowing where his friend was or if he was okay, that he truly realized what gigantic piece of shit he really was. But the most important matter on hand was the fact that Chris was in trouble and William needed to be there for him.

He’d gone over the earlier conversation over and over in his mind for hours, thinking and analysing every single word Chris had said; the almost dismissive tone in his voice and the hurt that he only realized was there when it was obviously already too late to fix.

Chris was hurt because of him. Chris always got hurt because of him. He hurt Chris more than he was his friend and William realized that he didn’t deserve Chris’ friendship at all.

They’re walking down the pebble path between the trees in the garden; the sun is shining brightly overhead and the rays feel warm against his skin.

They’re walking.

Until they’re not.

William didn’t realize they’d stopped until he feels Noora pull away from his side, stepping around his front and pulling him with both arms against her chest, only then did he realize he had warm tears streaming down his face.

He was okay. Chris was okay and everything was fine.

But it really wasn’t fine. He’d hurt his friend so badly and then almost lost him without ever getting the chance to say sorry. It truly just occurred to him right then that Chris almost died. He almost died, and there would have been absolutely nothing William could have done to fix it. He almost lost the best thing he had in his life, the best friend he could ever have asked for and the only person in his life who’d never let him down.

Chris almost died alone and in agony, thinking his best friend had abandoned him for a new country and he wouldn’t have been wrong in his thoughts.

He wasn’t thinking about Chris, he was thinking only about himself and his wants and his needs. He only used Chris’ name to justify his anger when it was obvious to everyone that their friendship seemed more important to Chris that it was to him when that fact couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He should have done better. He should have been better; a better person and a better friend, a friend Chris deserved.

“It’s my fault,” he hears himself saying, burying his face in the crook of Noora’s shoulder. “Everyone tells me it isn’t, but it is. It’s my fault he’s hurt, it’s my fault he almost died. He doesn’t blame me and every time he says that the more I realize that I never did anything to earn his friendship.”

He feels Noora rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades and it’s a comfort he doesn’t deserve.

“That’s not true and you know it,” Noora says.

“It’s true. I couldn’t protect Chris from getting hurt over and over again. I couldn’t protect you from Nikolai. I couldn’t protect my little sister. I can’t do anything for anyone who matters to me. I don’t deserve your friendships or your love. I don’t deserve any of you.”

“No, William,” he feels Noora dislodging herself, taking a step back and grasping his firmly by the shoulder, pushing his back slightly to be able to look him in the eye. “I can’t speak for your family or for Chris, but I can speak for myself. What happened with your brother, that’s on him. You had nothing to do with it and you’re not responsible for any of it. Okay? He did what he did because he’s sick and I should have listened to you and trusted you when you told me not to trust anything he said. But I was hurt, and he took advantage of that. What happened isn’t on me or on you. I want you to know that, okay? I want you to trust me this time.”

William can’t bring himself to meet Noora’s eyes but he hears her words; he hears it with more than his head even though his heart is still struggling to accept everything she said. But she’d earned that, he at least owed it to her to listen and to trust her because they’ve both been through so much together already.

“And what happened with Chris—it just happened, William. The most important thing is just to be there for him now. What happened in the past can’t be changed; the only thing you can do is just be better in the future.”

William is momentarily taken aback by her words. It was as if she picked the thought straight from his brain.

His eyes are still damp but the trickling tears were ceasing. He tries to focus his eyes on Noora. On her eyes, unlike any colour or shape he’d ever seen in his life. On her hair; so blonde and so soft and William briefly recalls of the feel of the strands running through his fingers; stroking it and caressing it gently when it was the other way around and Noora was the one needing his comfort and his embrace. He looks at her face, so beautiful and so kind and gentle and always open with whatever emotion she was feeling.

Worry, nearly completely cloaked by steely determination; that’s what she’s feeling right now. And William tries grasp on to some of that strength for himself.

“Okay?” she asks finally with a small smile, reaching up to brush the last tear pooling in the corner of his eye away with her thumb.

“Okay,” he replies. He can’t find it in him to reciprocate the smile but he hopes his eyes manage to convey the truthfulness of his word.

“Good,” Noora says, she smile widening a fraction more before her hands trail down the length of William’s arms to hold his hands in both of hers. “Should we continue on our walk? I think I see one of those nurses you were talking about.”

This time it does manage to dredge up a smile and a small chuckle from William, who pulls a hand out of Noora’s to reach up and rub the tear tracks on his face. Noora lets him have a moment to compose himself before returning to her original spot at his side, snaking her arm around his waist and pulling his across her shoulder, holding it there with a firm grasp on his hand.

They continue the rest of their walk in silence after that.

William’s mind is a mess of guilt on top of guilt and Noora’s comforting voice echoing inside his head trying to push all the guilty feelings into the abyss, and flashback of Chris and him playing in playground when they were younger; fighting with other kids, getting beaten up, having a good laugh; all happening simultaneously in flashes that are almost too hard to concentrate on. All the broken bones and the black eyes and the bumps and bruises; joking about it after, sometimes through tears. No one else there to comfort them besides each other.

Chris always had his back and it was time William held up his end of the friendship.

Chris is asleep when they get back to the room and so is Eva. She’s curled up against his side on a miniscule amount of space on the bed, her hands tucked comfortably under her chin and head being pillowed on Chris’ shoulder. Chris face is turned towards Eva, almost burrowed in the head of brown hair by his cheek and the arm Eva is sleeping on is reaching back up to wrap around her side, holding her close.

It’s an intimate moment that neither William nor Noora think they have a right in infringe on so instead they step back out into the hallway and take a seat side by side in the row of chairs arranged by the wall.

“I really hope things work out between them,” Noora says, though she isn’t looking at William when she says it.

William can hear the unspoken meaning behind her words though. ‘Between us’ is what she’s actually saying, because if Chris and Eva of all people could somehow find a way to make it work after everything that’s happened between them, then there might be a chance for them as well.

Noora is a realist. William could tell from the first moment they met, and maybe their relationship did seem a little too ‘fairy-tale ending’ than she was really comfortable with but William didn’t think it made it any less real or genuine, or that it was just something fleeting. It didn’t mean his feelings for her were in anyways fake, if anything, this was the least fake William has ever been in his life.

Right here, right now, with this woman he loves so much, William thinks that this is most true to himself he’s ever been and often times he wonders whether he actually deserves any of this; Noora, Chris, the Penetrators and all the people he’s met along the way. The selfish part of him just wants to take it all and hold on tight because he knows that a moment of weakness, the moment he lets his guard down, everything can just disappear in an instance.

It took a split second for his sister to just—be gone. He didn’t even have time to blink and with her she took all the love his parents used to have for him and Nikolai.

He left his friends for just one night and they were attacked.

He turned his back and Noora left him and ran away back to Oslo.

It only took a moment for years’ worth of friendship to almost end in an instance.

Everyone always ends up leaving him and he promised himself a long time ago that he’d never put himself in the position to be left behind anymore.

But then Chris pushed his way through the fold, then the guys, then Noora and William couldn’t find it in him to hold up the barriers he’d painstakingly built around him any longer. It was the best decision he ever made in his life. It also meant that he was opening himself up to be hurt all over again, but he thinks that it had been a worthy price to pay for what he’d gotten in return:

Chris friendship, the guys’ loyalty and Noora’s love.

“Have you two talked?” he hears Noora’s voice punching through the cloud in his mind as he comes back down to the present.

“Yeah. We’ve talked,” he says.

“No, I mean have you two talked? Like really talked, about everything?”

William doesn’t really understand what she means, but there’s that steely determination in her eyes again and he knows that he’s about to get schooled.

“Like—you know, what happened between us in London. That was just—uh, things moving too quickly. Not in the relationship, but in everything else. London isn’t my home; the only person I have there is you. No Eva, no Sana or Chris or Vilde. I had nothing in London besides you and it felt like I’d lost a part of myself almost. You have your dad at least and your job there. I just wasn’t keen on playing the little wifey living in an unfamiliar country with no family and no friends.”

Once again William interprets the ‘Chris’ in Noora’s story as a representation of ‘us’.

“I get it,” William says and it is the truth; he was hurt by Noora leaving without a word but deep down he understood her side in all that.

“You do?” Noora asks. William is pleased to see that he’d managed to render her shocked for once.

“I do. I was hurt; I won’t lie, especially since you didn’t feel like you could even talk to me about it. You pulled back, when you should have just been Noora and said exactly what was on your mind. But I understood then like I understand now.” And it isn’t a lie, but William downplays how hurt he really was when he came home to discover her side of the closet empty, her suitcases missing and Noora just…gone. But he dealt with it like he deals with everything else and that was one of the reasons why it was so hard even thinking of coming back to Oslo even for Chris. The fact is, he probably wouldn’t have come back if Chris hadn’t gotten hurt because that was how hurt he really was.

But that’s all in the past now. Noora is here, Chris is here, all his friends are here and at the moment William thinks that that’s enough.

“Halloooo.” A chipper greeting catches their attention and both of them turn to see the girls approaching them from down the hall, Sana in the lead and being flanked on either side by their Chris and Vilde who are holding a bouquet of flowers and a couple of gaudy Get Well Soon balloons respectively.

“Hai, girls,” William greets as Noora pulls out of his embrace to stand as the three girls approach.

“William,” Sana replies curtly with an acknowledging nod. Her expression warms immediately when she turned to Noora and pulls her into a hug.

“Hai, William,” Vilde says the name in near reverence; an almost feline grin on her face as she brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Chris bring up the rear with a gruff, “Dude,” and mimicking Sana’s acknowledging head nod from earlier.

“How Chris?” Sana asks when she pulls away and Noora moves on to embrace both Vilde and Chris.

“He and Eva are both sleeping. That’s why we’re out here. We didn’t want to disturb them,” William answers.

Sana just accepts his answer with a thoughtful, “Hm.”

It’s bizarre how the girl could unnerve him without even really doing anything. The more William interacts with the Muslim girl, the more he understands where the other guys’ awe disguised as fear was coming from.

“That was a little while ago, so I’ll just check if they’re awake now.”

Truthfully he really just wanted to get out of there. Vilde isn’t hounding him anymore, Sana is one of Noora’s closest friends and one of the people she obviously respects the most so he really should be more at ease around her than he is, and Chris is just—well, Chris. He wonders if it has anything to do with the name because somehow no matter what gender, Chris is always just Chris.

He leaves the girls to talk about whatever is it girls talk about and steps into the hospital room without making too much noise.

Chris’ eyes are already open when he enters. He’s looking at the still sleeping Eva curled up beside him, his fingers gently running through her hair in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“Chris?” he calls out, announcing his presence in the room so he wouldn’t startle either of them.

“William?” Chris turns his attention to him immediately. His eyes are still glazed over from sleep and he looks beyond exhausted still, but there’s a spark that ignites in his eyes the moment he hears William’s voice and it’s a fact that brings out not only on a heart-warming feeling in William but also a lot of regret.

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he answers simple. “I think, ironically, I woke up because my arm started falling asleep.”

William chuckles. “Yeah. Doesn’t look that comfortable.”

“I just—uh, don’t want to wake her. I don’t think she’s slept properly in days.”

William can attest to that fact. He’s pretty sure he’s slept more than Eva the entire time they’ve been at the hospital.

“You’ve got company outside. It’s Eva’s friends.”

“Really?” there’s a surprised tone to Chris voice but a small smile tugs at his lips regardless. “Is Chris here too?”

William chuckles again. “Yeah. The adventure of Chris and Chris continues,” William says. “Want me to call them in?”

“Sure.”

William is about to turn before he stops in his tracks and instead steps closer to the bed, leaning in close to almost whisper to Chris without disturbing Eva. “By the way, I think—I think we should find some time to, you know—talk. About things, about everything.”

“What things?”

Williams isn’t sure how to answer, instead he swallows once. “You know—about what happened. About me leaving you behind and you getting hurt. I think—”

“I think you’re getting a bit too weepy in your old age William,” Chris interrupts him mid-sentence with disapproving shake of his head. “We’ve talked, haven’t we? And I told you it wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“But—”

“But nothing, William. I know your girlfriend put you up to this cause that’s the way the girls do it. They talk about their feelings and all sorts of sappy shit like that. I told you it’s fine; what happened in the past happened. Just leave it be. You’re here now and that’s the only thing that matters. Seriously, I said it’s fine then and it’s fine now. And if you don’t stop whining about it I swear I’m going to punch you in the face.”

William isn’t sure how he thought that conversation to go, but in hindsight he thinks that that’s about what he expected was going to happen.

“Okay. Message received,” he says with a smile.

“Good,” Chris says with a huff, but he has a small smile on his face too and for the first time in a while, William thinks that maybe things are going to turn our okay after all.

“Glad we had that conversation,” William says with a grin.

“Whatever, William. Next time feel free to save the touchy-feeling shit for Erik or Borkis. That seems more their style.”

“Roger that,” William says before heading over to the door to call in the girls.

By this time Eva is already slowly stirring, like a cat stretching her limbs across the length of the bed before she reaches an arm out over Chris’s upper torso and latches onto him like a koala, resting her head, eyes still unopen, on his chest.

Noora and Sana enter first with Vilde following closely and Chris bringing up the rear. The moment his Chris’ eyes fall on the Chris of their group, William can see his face brightening almost immediately.

“Hey, Chris,” he greets with a wave and a wide grin.

“Hey yourself, Chris,” she replies with a grin of her own, raising a hand up in salute.

William watches the scene unfold with a grin of his own, not noticing Noora sidling up beside him until she slides her hand into his and grasps on tight.

“Did you guys talk?”

William looks down at her and spares her a smile. “Not in the way you expected, but yeah. We did.”

“Good,” she says and both of them look back just in time to catch the last part of a secret handshake his Chris and her Chris had at one point learned to do with each other. Eva at this point is obviously only pretending to be asleep, because Vilde is tickling her ear with a handful of her own hair and Eva keeps on trying to smother the smile threatening to emerge with varying degrees of success. Sana is at the foot of the bed tying the balloons to the rail while chiding one of them for one thing or another and being completely ignored.

William looks over at Chris and the wide smile he has on his face. A smile he at one point didn’t think he’d be able to see again, so the sight is something he bookmarks in the fond part of his memories. He looks down at Noora smiling at the antics of the people in front of her and William can’t help but smother the feeling of pride that bubbles up inside him. These two people, the two most important people he has in his life. He still couldn’t believe his luck, but here they both are in front of him. Real and within touching distance, and this time William promises himself that he’ll do everything in his power to not fuck this up. No matter how difficult, how trying it may end up being, William has known loneliness and fear, and those were two feelings he didn’t want to experience again.

Noora and Chris keeps those feelings at bay, so William knows that he has to keep the two of them even closer to him. He’d almost managed to push both of them away once; in Chris case, on many occasions. But Chris is still here and Noora is still here and William promises himself that he’ll do everything he can to be here for the both of them.

tbc.

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#skam #chris schistad #eva kviig mohn #noorhelm #chris x eva #William Magnusson #noora amalie sætre #fic: a family we chose for ourselves #whump #CHRISHELM #friendship fic #reiven fics #fics: a family we chose for ourselves #my fic: a family we chose for ourselves

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