#like the speed of ‘hearing words - processing words - coming up with response - organizing response - moving response to the mouth - words
Text
EASY DAYS AHEAD
SUMMARY: Astarion's not used to feeling cared for. Luckily though, you're as caring as they come.
PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,925
WARNINGS: Astarion's POV, 18+ sexual content, oral sex (male receiving), body worship if you squint, CONSENT!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, consent is incredibly sexy. That's all I gotta say. Also that I'm pretty sure I was possessed by something because I wrote this in literally an hour and a half???
MASTERLIST
-
Astarion doesn’t deserve the care that goes into loving him. With nothing more to offer than a broken mind wrapped in precious, tainted silk, it’s hard to wrap his head around the tenderness. Specifically the feeling of your skin, trailing patterns down his spine —painting fresh images over the scars that line his back as you praise him for his efforts.
Your voice sounds wrong in his ears. Every word distorting. All the syllables jumbling up in ways that make him narrow his eyes, staring through the darkness of the tent at nothing in particular.
“You okay?” you ask, and even now, weeks after your first night spent together, he has to muster up everything he’s got not to break down in front of you.
“I’m fine, darling.”
His lips always pull in that liar’s grin, ripping through his face like knives. Slicing the inside of his cheeks each time his fangs bite down on the wet flesh inside.
He has to force himself to look at you. To stare at the exhausted smile that slowly shifts to a frown, showcasing your insight. How you know he’s lying before he can even elaborate on why he’s fine or how you shouldn’t worry about him —he’s a creature of the night after all.
Pressing fully against him, he hears you click your tongue and shake your head as if scolding him. “What do you need?”
Each time you pose that same question he feels like dying. Despite the fact his heart no longer works like yours —despite the act of breathing being nothing more than a habit he’s carried over from his deathbed— there’s a dread that coats his chest. Like oil, thick and slick, it completely drowns his organs. Suffocating his body while his mind and soul fight over what comes next.
As the internal argument grows, his eyes always dart back and forth. One moment they’re locked onto your face, obsessively viewing each section and the next they’re anywhere but. In the forest, on the battlefield, back home tucked tightly inside the palm of his master’s hand —each night he travels everywhere, lingering in certain places while speeding through others, praying to all the Gods that never listened that he’ll make his way back to you. That just this once, instead of drifting off to sea, they’ll grant him the anchor he so desperately craves. The one that’s tethered to you and the solid ground beneath.
“You still there, handsome?”
He is —sort of— depending on the moment, but instead of saying that he merely hums. Offering the bare minimum to the only person he’s ever met deserving of more.
“Tired?”
“Incredibly.”
You push your chest against his back and grip his shoulder, allowing your fingers to tighten around as you maneuver your lips to his cheek. “You should rest then,” you tell him afterward, but like always the words get pushed together. Morphing into something else entirely, causing him to narrow his eyes.
“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” he teases, watching you roll your eyes —feeling your nails tentatively dig into his flesh as a warning.
“Shush. Don’t make me shove a sleeping potion down your throat.”
In response, he lets out a humorous huff. Then, his hands move to snake around your waist, pulling you on top of him. “Go ahead. I’m sure Gale would thoroughly enjoy such misuse of his wares.”
“My wares,” you correct, pressing an annoyed kiss to his chest, making sure to catch his skin between your teeth in the process as a warning. “I bought them from him fair and square.”
Immediately, he grabs your chin and raises his brow. “Why the hells would you need a potion of sleep anyway? You already sleep like a corpse.”
You merely look away with a smile. All while rolling your eyes in that way that makes him feel like he’s young again. Freshly born into a world that hadn’t yet chewed and spat him out. One where the veins beneath his skin are full of warm blood, pumping through his system, fuelling the desire he knows he should have now that you’re lying against him, flesh against flesh. Beating heart against—
Your lips press against his sternum and he swears they’re the most tender things he’s ever felt. Next to the way your fingers always seem to lace in his when you’re sitting by the campfire, they’re softer than any touch he’s ever experienced. Hungry yet restrained for his benefit, knowing it’s hard to feel like this. To experience the kindness of a pair of lips, worshipping a slab of skin so undeserving of such care.
Each time your mouth makes contact, your eyes are always on him, asking for permission. Begging for consent. He’s never told you this but it’s the most selfless thing he’s ever experienced. Despite it’s obvious subtly, that look you give each time your mouth can’t help itself or your hands grow a bit too greedy, means more to him than life itself. More than power or revenge. More than freedom. Because that look requires worth. Value. An offering of submission he’s long since memorized.
Each time it’s given to him, he has to compose himself. Otherwise, he might just shatter entirely —fall to the floor in a hundred tiny pieces not even you may be willing to put in the effort to fix.
Swallowing hard, he has to stare intently at your face, taking in the way you look up at him through your lashes. How you arch your brow just slightly upward, asking for forgiveness. Atoning for your sins in the form of restraint until he eventually nods, hearing your voice.
You always ask out loud to make sure. An act that only further fuels his desire to feel you wrapped around him. To experience the warmth of your flesh tenderly pressing against the iciness of his.
“Go ahead, darling,” he tells you, and for once, he means it. Truly.
Instead of pretending like he wants this for the sake of a game, he accepts you in full. Watching you genuinely grin as you lean up to capture his lips, savouring the taste of his approval. Consuming the sound that absentmindedly passes through his lips as your hand lingers down, drifting past his chest and stomach until you’re pulling away to breathe.
He can feel his mouth swell with need. The rest of his body following suit as you begin to descend, touching and kissing and biting —putting him through every sensation he’s gifted so many others.
Leaning up to watch you work, he can see the excitement in your face each time he accidentally twitches beneath you. How the edges of your eyes crinkle with anticipation the moment you find yourself tucked between his legs, looming over him with heavy hands and breaths.
“You’re beautiful,” you tell him then, and for once it means something.
“You’re beautiful,” he repeats back, and for once it isn’t a lie. In fact, it’s the most honest he’s ever been, and secretly that scares him. So much so that he has to look down to see if you’re still there.
Hoping that the sudden sincerity in his voice hasn’t scared you away, he can’t help but focus on the curve of your spine. How it starts low; your chest slightly leaning against one of his inner thighs.
Somehow despite the precarious position, you look perfect. Like a piece of art so carefully made, he can’t help but reach down and touch, revelling in the way you shudder beneath him. Sighing at the sudden desperation that erupts when you pull at the fabric against his waist.
“Greedy, are we?” he jokes.
Shooting him an embarrassed look, your hands continue to work his underwear down his legs —ignoring the way they catch at his knees and ankles. “I just really want to make you feel good.”
The way you speak sends him over the precipice of ruin. Even before you discard the cloth and wrap your hand around the head of his cock, he’s already done for. Lost to the feeling of your digits. Fully enraptured by the heat of your breath as you lean forward and take him between your lips, coating him in spit. He has to close his eyes despite wanting nothing more than to look at you. Feeling the way your cheeks hollow out against him, he can already imagine the expressions of your efforts. All the time and care put in as you stroke him gently, maintaining the slowest pace he’s sure he’s ever experienced.
It drives him mad with need. Bucking upwards each time your tongue drags across the tip, he instantly feels you push back. With a firm hand, you grip his hip and dig the pads into his flesh as yet another warning, telling him to behave. To just sit back and savour the pleasures he’s deserved rather than rushing through.
He isn’t used to enjoying this. More often than not feeling like nothing more than a body designated for others enjoyment, he isn’t entirely sure how to properly relish your efforts. Or at least, in a way that doesn’t feel forced. Because he could do what you’re supposed to in this situation: touch you, moan for you, utter sweet nothings in your ear to further spur you on. He could do one of them or all of them, perhaps a mixture of two and still, it wouldn’t be enough to fully showcase the weight that fills his chest each time your mouth bobs up and down. How, as you begin to push him further and further into your mouth until he’s grazing the back of your throat, everything you do feels like the greatest gift he’s ever received. How maddening it is to feel loved like this even when he’s at his most unloveable.
Because that’s what you do to him. With the simplest of touches, you make him feel like him again. Like his mind hasn’t been shattered by the repeated slams of a sinner’s hand. As if his skin, etched by the knife of that same bastard, isn’t scarred. That instead it’s merely just skin. A grouping of muscle and tissue wrapping around his bones —a simple casing of flesh meant to be licked and sucked and pumped for all it’s worth until he’s gasping for air and uncontrollably shaking.
And sometimes he feels like he’s earned it. During the easy days when he’s able to forget about his past and instead focus on the beauty that’s pressed against his leg, continuing to suck the come from his orgasm, it’s as if he’s on top of the world. Standing on a pillar of his past self’s hopes and dreams, he can easily look down at you with pride. Reaching down to touch your temple, he can feel the haze of your affections in full. The tremors of your possessive lips slowly slipping off, granting him a slick-coated smile that makes him almost faint.
During those days he can smile back and pull you up into his chest, ignoring the ache between his thighs in your absence. Opting to hold you close.
“Was that okay?” he hears you ask, and despite the question seeming almost juvenile, all he does is kiss your face. Starting at your forehead before moving to your nose and cheeks —eventually ending on your lips, he answers the question the only way he can. By showing you that, thanks to the care you foolishly offer, the days really are getting easier.
-
@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren
(tags continued in comments)
495 notes
·
View notes
Text
— aizawa boyfriend headcannons
☾ genre: headcannons
☾ pairing: aizawa shota x gn!reader
☾ warnings: none !! all fluff ! (hints at manga spoilers, but no details or anything about it is actually said)
☾ a/n: HIHI ! i have like 9 other drafts that i’m working on and they’re all for Bungou Stray Dogs 😁 but enjoy this Aizawa brainrot i love him gn.
☾ ALSO ! NSFW headcannons for aizawa will be coming soon as a separate post !!
☾ W/C: 1,373
— SFW
okay i’m sick of all the mfs that say that aizawa is just an emotionless asshole
HE. IS. NOT.
ON MY MAMA HE IS A SWEETHEART DEEP DOWN. IN HIS OWN WAY.
he’s not really outwardly affectionate— especially not at first
mostly because his love language is acts of service and words of affirmation
no i will not take criticism because i am right
HOWEVER of course i shall elaborate 😁
he is a bitter man because of his past (if y’all read the MHA manga... you know 😐.)
but he would not insult someone he genuinely cares about
and obviously he cares about you bae
so words of affirmation is a constant with him— and honestly it just comes out naturally, he doesn’t even force it
and it’s a lot of reassurance too— reminding you that he does care about you despite the fact that he isn’t very good at expressing it
he also doesn’t explicitly say that he loves you most of the time, just ‘cause he’s afraid of the term yaknow
he kinda plays around with words that basically mean the same thing tho 😁
“i’m very proud of you”
“you’re the only one i want”
“how are you feeling?”
“do you need anything from me? are you tired?”
speaking of which
his love language of acts of service said HELLOOOO
he just wants you to be happy and comfortable
but he’s also pretty lazy 😐
so it’s kinda acts of service but in the back of his mind he hopes that the things that make you happy n comfy are easily attainable 🧍
but when i say he’s lazy and that isn’t gunna change for ANYONE .
🧍.
yeah sorry
my mans wants his naps regardless if you want attention like just nap with him
he’s very very okay with that
AND UHHH CUDDLING .
he isn’t big on like hugs or pda or holding hands when it comes to physical affection
but CUDDLING WHILE NAPPING AND SLEEPING?? YES.
he loves that so much omg
like he knows that you’re alone and he’s allowed to be vulnerable around you, and no one is around except the two of you
and your cats
but we’ll get that later
he’s always the big spoon
not because he’s embarrassed or anything he doesn’t really give a fuck about shame in this situation
he just finds it more comfy to hold you rather than the other way around
because he cuddled his pillow for so long that’s just his natural sleeping position
you can tear that headcannon from my cold dead hands and i don’t want to hear it outta any of you
anyway
he’s such a heavy sleeper that he does NOT move an INCH at night
so if you ever have to get up to pee or just generally move around a lot while you sleep he doesn’t care
it literally cannot bother him 😐 he is dead to the world
also he doesn’t dream at all he just 😐 he sleep
he likes to hear about your dreams though if you have them ^_^ you guys talk all about it in the morning and the way he looks at you when you talk ☹️🥺
like in any situation ☹️🥺 he just listening to you talk about things you enjoy— he could listen to your voice all day
he doesn’t really reply much, but you know he’s listening
ANYWAY back to the CATS !!
you have two cats
one cat favors aizawa and one favors you
it’s no surprise that the cat that likes aizawa more has the same personality as you, and the cat that has the same personality as aizawa likes you more
obviously they love you both but like, if they had to choose a lap while you’re both on the couch, you can guess what happens
he loves the cats so much
genuinely he worries for them all the time
the only time he calls you is to check on the cats when he randomly gets anxious about them
“hi. are you home right now?”
“yes hun, i’m on my lunch break,”
“are the cats okay?”
“...yes they’re with me right now?”
“are you sure.”
“.....do you want me to put them up to the phone?”
“yes.”
anyway DATES.
they’re mostly lazy dates (obviously)
he likes the casual aspect of relationships, so that extravagant shit is wasted on him, especially when it comes to dates
he likes to order in, or cook (preferably with you) and watch a movie with the cats
the cats are in fact a requirement
and yes he will cuddle you on the couch while the movie plays, and honestly sometimes he finds himself barely focusing on the movie, just looking down at you laying on his chest and simply admiring you
he's a softie deep down
a big fat softie
also kisses with aizawa???
soft. so Soft™
he's just a very delicate person at heart, so kisses are just the same
he cups your cheeks and plants kisses on your lips and nose all. the. time.
he loves kisses but usually he doesn't initiate them, so you better grow some BALLS and kiss your man
he will kiss you right back instantly
he also isn't very private about his life
but also?? kind of??
like he definitely doesn't make any effort to hide his relationship with you from the rest of the UA staff and students, but obviously he isn't parading you around and shouting from the rooftops
he finds it really stupid for someone to actively hide their significant other from people
like??? make sure to tell people they're yours?? why would you hide that you dumbass
speaking of which aizawa is super protective
he DEF isn't possessive, like "don't you dare talk to that guy or i will kill him" type like some of y'all make him out to be
i see you and i hate you .
he just wants to keep you safe, so he looks out for you constantly
he trusts you not to be possessive, but his natural instincts from past trauma (again, manga reader know) make him look out for people he cares about
and that always includes you
OVERALL
100/10 boyfriend someone kiss him for me </3
"shota?" you called from the kitchen, trying to gather all of the snacks you had organized onto the counter in your arms. there were too many bags, so many that it would definitely be impossible for you to carry them all in one go-- and that was obvious, since every attempt to gather everything was futile. you groaned as the items tumbled out of your grasp for the umpteenth time, "shota, hun can you help?"
"hm? what's wrong?" you heard a monotonous grunt from the living room.
"i can't carry everything myself, and i really don't feel like taking multiple trips," there was no response. you sighed, "pleeeaaase??"
"i'm busy. my hands are full too."
"ugh, he's sitting on the couch, what could he possibly be busy with?" you mutter to yourself through your teeth.
finally, you decide to simply create a makeshift bag out of your shirt, flipping it up inside-out. you quickly place all of your snacks, and speed to where your lazy boyfriend sat in the other room to stop anything from falling.
you aimlessly let everything tumble out of your grasp, the sounds of plastic hitting your wooden coffee table in front of the couch.
"see? you didn't need my help," you could hear the smug smile on his face even if you weren't looking.
"well, you know how much easier it would've been if y-" you begin to whine, but as you look up to face aizawa completely, you realize why he refused to get up. two little cats were curled up on his blanket-covered lap, their bellies rising and falling gently. you tentatively made your way to sit beside him, carefully plopping onto the cushion.
"so you really were busy then, huh?"
he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to lean your head into the crook of his neck, careful not to move his lap in the process, "well, you know i wouldn't lie to you."
masterlist
#aizawa fluff#aizawa x reader#aizawa x gender neutral reader#aizawa imagine#aizawa headcanons#aizawa hc#mha x y/n#mha headcanons#mha aizawa#mha fluff#mha x reader#aizawa x you#bnha x reader#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha x gender neutral reader#my hero academia#my hero headcanons#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero academia
285 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, I have this super specific idea so feel free to ignore this one lol. So basically, Annie and the reader have been dating for a while, like at least a year. And the reader is in the survey corps right, so during one of the missions she ends up getting injured in an explosion and she's like all burned up and covered in injury's that'll scar really bad. And so the reader gets taken to a hospital or med bay or whatever, and she's been out for days, and like Reiner, Eren, Mikasa, etc. are all there, ya know her little gaggle of friends. And like she's been unconscious for days but sometimes she'll wake up for a few minutes and pass out again. So when Annie gets the news and comes to see her she like starts to wake up, and when she's coherent Annie is holding her hand and says "I'm glad you're alive" or something, then the reader just kinda stares at her for a minute and says "are you one of my friends from the cadet corps" and everyone's shocked and Annie kinda runs off. And ass the reader gets better she's allowed to walk around town and shit as long as someone's with her because she he's trouble walking, and she like can't hold things in one of her hands without shaking like she's about to fall apart. She basically hos no memories of absolutely anything so if someone says that their friends she just believes them and wants to be with them, which is a contrast to how she was in the cadets because she was always super short tempered and would pick fights with everyone, but she always had a soft spot for Annie and would follow her around and shit while being an ass to everyone else. So now she has no memories, blind as shit, can barely walk, and is super kind and polite to just about everyone. And like she insists on Annie seeing her and wants to go with her wherever she goes and is all smiles and happiness while Annie is kinda having a crisis. Because they were both very closed off people and they opened up to each other and built unwavering trust and loyalty but now one of them doesn't remember, Annie wants to help her but at the same time she feels that it's for the best if they stay apart, uh spoiler they don't stay apart it's just gonna take time. I'm really sorry this was so long dude. Also please tell me this made sense I haven't stopped think about this for days
I- It’s a little confusing but I think I get it.
Let me know if I get anything wrong!
I also included a lot of platonic AruAni because it’s cute.
Unbearable
(Annie Leonhart x Reader)
AU: Canon
Warnings: Implied season 3 spoilers
Category: Both angst and fluff (somehow)
Summary: After getting seriously injured in a mission, Annie’s s/o doesn’t recognize anyone, and is left very weak. Still, Annie and her S/O stick together through the recovery.
Words: 5.5K
It’d gone wrong. It’d all gone horribly wrong.
A freak accident—only preventable by, perhaps, closer gear inspection, but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done.
The most recent Survey Corps mission was just concluding, and you managed to call yourself one of the lucky ones who survived this far. Erwin led the charge back to the walls at full speed, having completed the objective by the skin of his teeth, but an abnormal titan was tagging dangerously close behind.
The towering beast approached closer and closer, until it kicked the horse you were on, sending you and it abruptly flying through the air and away from the Scouts.
It took you a minute to regain your senses and realize the gravity of your situation. Your horse lay dying 40 feet away from you. Clearly, it would be of no help. The abnormal lurched towards you unnaturally, and your eyes widened in fear.
A quick movement of your upper body caused a jolt of pain to shoot up your chest, and you were positive you must’ve broke a few ribs when you collided with the dirt.
Still, you had limited time before the monster reached you, and you weren’t about to die that easily. You bore the pain in your chest as you stood up straight, beads of cold sweat rolling down your face as you surveyed your situation to find the easiest way out.
You were too far from your horse, and the rest of the Scout formation, and you were in no shape to run. Your head turned towards the walls, and an idea popped into your mind—you were going to scale the wall.
You broke into a quick sprint before you shot your ODM gear into the wall, flying towards it at lightning speed. Your back took the brunt of the impact, and you groaned in pain.
Still, it seems as if the abnormal wasn’t going to let you get a moment’s rest, as it caught up to you and tried to jump and grab you, but narrowly missed your boot. The rush of adrenaline kicked your body into gear as you shot the grapple of your ODM gear onto the ledge of the wall and hauled yourself up, a garrison soldier helping you before turning to man one of the cannons.
You stood up triumphantly on the wall, the titan below you still trying in vain to reach you. You could hear the distant shouting of a commander—and what you could out assume was the foreboding shout, “FIRE!!!”
And that’s where everything went wrong.
The cannon, no more than three feet to your right, exploded into a supernova of sparks and flames, and the last thing you saw was fire as blinding pain shot through your body.
And then it all went black.
---
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but only family members are allowed to see her at the moment, you’re going to have to wait until she’s discharged.” The poor receptionist sighed, staring up at the distressed woman in front of her.
“I don’t care if ‘only family is allowed’! I’m her girlfriend, I should be allowed to see her!” Annie shouted, dressed in a simple white hoodie and grey pants. An outfit too casual for her to wear outside in most occasions, but when she heard the news of your admission to the hospital, she didn’t care to change.
“I’m sorry, there’s really nothing I can do-”
Annie leaned in closer, grabbing the receptionist by the collar of her shirt and pulling her in, a dangerous look gracing her face. Her voice came out in a threatening growl.
“Look, I’m a part of the military police, so if anyone asks, I’m just her older sister,” She glared daggers the woman, who shook like a leaf at the intimidation, “Got it?”
The woman nodded urgently, sweating bullets at this point, and Annie was thankful the intimidation had worked. “R-Room 302...”
She didn’t bother letting out a response as she ran to the wing of the hospital you were in. She didn’t know quite where the room was, but she would find out soon enough.
After a painful few minutes of searching, her eyes found the plate outside of a closed wooden door, the number reading “302″.
She walked up to it, and took a deep breath in before twisting the doorknob and pushing her way into the room, but her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped at the sight.
She knew it was bad—after all, nothing good ever came out of being so close to an explosion like that—but she couldn’t have been prepared for what she saw.
You were laid down on the bed, clearly unconscious, and sweltering burns covered at least 60% of your body, especially your right side. Many limbs were elevated and covered in taunting white casting, and you let out shallowed, labored breaths.
She mentally cursed the primitive healthcare the Eldians seemed to have, and the lack of a doctor in the room. She was no professional, but you definitely didn’t look to be in a state to be alone.
She though you were alone, that is, until her rationality returned to her and she noticed many figures in the room, though none bore the staff uniform.
They seemed to notice her before long, and a few stared at her quietly with pity in their eyes. She scanned the faces that surrounded her; Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Reiner were all present in the room.
“What in...” Her voice came out short in her throat; the words were just as powerless as she was, “What in God’s name happened to her...” It was hushed, almost husky, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Maybe she was, but she didn’t notice.
Mikasa seemed to be the first one to speak up through the heavy silence, stepping forward to grab Annie’s attention.
“It was on the recent scouting mission yesterday. She narrowly escape a titan by climbing over the wall, but one of the Garrison’s cannons blew up.” Mikasa looked to the side, clearly troubled by the situation as well. “Of the four people caught up in the explosion, she’s the only one still alive.”
Annie didn’t process quite what Mikasa had said at first, her mind was more focused on a pressing question that suddenly arose in her mind.
“The only one still alive?” She echoed. “Why did you phrase it like that?”
Mikasa sighed, covering her mouth with her scarf—something she often did when she was troubled. “Well, the doctor is doing all he can at the moment, but she’s been drifting in and out of consciousness nonstop for the past hour. Even when she is awake, we can’t seem to get a coherent response out of her.”
She froze.
Her eyes moved back to your battered form. She hadn’t taken in exactly how bad it was until now. Shattered bones, burnt skin, compromised organs—you were nearly unrecognizable. Not in the way that you were scarred beyond recognition, but in the way that she never imagined to see you in such a state. You looked like you had, quite literally, went through hell and back.
She let out a pained sigh, slinking down in a chair next to the bed and staring at the floor in defeat. She reached out and grabbed your limp hand at your side, running her thumb delicately over your burnt hand, as if the slightest mistouch would cause you to shatter like delicate porcelain.
“Please...” She knew you couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to pretend, for a brief moment, that you could, and that you’d bounce right back up. But, you stayed limp on the bed, unmoving. “Please wake up...”
The others were able to read the room and came to a silent consensus, filing out of the room wordlessly.
She continued to hold your hand, sitting silently on your bedside for hours.
You never regained consciousness once.
---
Dreams flashed through her mind, the inner turmoil she faced was too fierce to not have such vibrant, nonsensical dreams. Dreams of you, spending late nights with her, or eating with her in silence. Dreams of your broken and bloodied body being sent flying from a hellish firework of flames. Dreams of visiting a newly dug grave. Dreams of—
A loud banging startled her out of her sleep, and she opened her eyes with a start, the dreams stopping abruptly as her brain pieced together the fragments of reality. Right, they were just dreams.
The banging—what was it? She looked around for a source. Nothing had fallen, nothing had moved, the room was still.
*BANG BANG BANG*
She jumped at the loud so, before facepalming internally. Of course someone was knocking on the door, what was she thinking?
A quick glance at the clock showed the time; 3AM. What is going on?
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she threw on some sweatpants, just presentable enough to answer the door.
She twisted the knob open and was greeted by...
“Armin?” She slurred, confusion and tiredness laced her voice.
“Annie...!” He had a strange look on his face, like he was in a hurry. Yet, it didn’t look like desperation, nor was it excitement. “Y/n woke up!”
---
She had never run faster. She didn’t care about leaving Armin in the dust at her front doorstep—hell, it didn’t even process until minutes later that she didn’t even close the front door. She just ran, ran, ran all the way to the hospital.
She made it to your room again, panting and desperate to see you again.
She went inside, and an immense wave of relief and joy washed over her face. It was true, you were conscious. Sitting up in the bed, talking to someone at your bedside, likely a nurse or a doctor.
Her loud footsteps and heavy breathing brought the attention of both you and the staff member to her, and you locked eyes with her.
She froze. There they were. The beautiful E/C eyes she had fallen in love with, and the same ones that filled her vision when she first awoke next to you in the morning. Except, something was off. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was disarray in your eyes. A storm.
She paid no mind to the rotten gut feeling, though, and rushed by your side to grip your hand tightly. A spark of sympathy arose in her chest when you whimpered in pain at the motion, but that was the last thing on her mind. Tears of happiness sparked in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.
She bowed her head—a sign of vulnerability that only you were ever able to see.
“Y/n, I...!” She choked out through the tears in her eyes, the back of her throat tightening with emotion, “I’m so glad you’re okay...”
You didn’t embrace her, you didn’t squeeze her hand back. No, you were still. Still as you were when your battered body was first admitted to the hospital. She looked up at you, and the same misguided look was in your eyes.
“Sorry... do I know you?”
---
She slammed the door behind her, locking it as she slid down the wall of her house, sobs wracking her body.
Her mind had neglected to process it until just now, but the truth was inescapable; you didn’t know who she was anymore. You didn’t know anyone or anything anymore.
Amnesia.
She couldn’t bear to see you like that. Seeing you so physically broken was bad enough, but seeing you confused and lost, years of memories and connections and friends just out the window? If there was a god, he sure as hell must’ve hated you.
She had no idea what to do. You weren’t going to just magically remember her. No, the Y/N she knew and loved all those years was gone. You were just a blank slate. She no longer meant anything to you, she was a stranger in your eyes.
She laid down to go to sleep, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes. She didn’t sleep that night.
---
She chose not to get up the next morning. She stayed in bed, staring at the empty space next to her where you usually slept. She wanted you to be right there next to her. God, she wanted you back.
She would’ve stayed in her depressed, hibernated state for hours, or even days, had someone not stopped by to check on her.
She figured it would be Armin. The sympathetic blonde man would always stop by to check on her. Not just now, but throughout their days as cadets. He was always the second person—after you, of course—to check up on her and ask how she was doing.
But when she opened the door and saw Mikasa, she was a little confused.
“Mikasa, what are y-”
“Y/n wants to speak with you.” She stated flatly, and Annie physically recoiled at the mention of your name.
“She... what?” Annie muttered, confusion enveloping her tone.
She understood the statement, on a surface level at least. But she didn’t understand why. Why did you want to talk to her? She meant nothing to you. What was there to talk about anymore? You probably didn’t even know her name.
She complied silently, though, and before long, she had trudged herself all the way to the hospital.
302. Such a depressing number to her now. But it was unavoidable. You were on the other side of the door, awaiting her for some odd reason.
She pushed the door open, and her eyes met yours silently. You were sitting up with your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your eyes followed Annie as she wordlessly shut the door and took a seat next at your bedside.
“Annie.” The blonde women flinched at the sound of her name, eyes staying fixated on anything but your face. “Annie.”
She finally shifted her head, meeting your gaze. There was a pitiful look tracing her features. It would look like indifference at first glance, but being so close to her allowed you to notice small features on her face, like her sunken in eyes, and her lips, tucked into a frown slightly tighter than normal.
She looked like she was about to cry.
You moved your arm slowly, wincing internally as your wounds burned and ached, and took her hand in your own, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing manner. Annie didn’t want to enjoy it—she knew this wasn’t the you she had fallen in love with—but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering the simpler times, where small affectionate gestures like this were normal to her.
“Mikasa told me just about everything I’ve forgotten.” You finally spoke up. “About the Scouts, about the accident, about us.” A painful silence filled the room for a moment following the word ‘us’. Surely, it meant more to her than it did to you.
“Annie.” You squeezed her hand despite the pain shooting up your arm, and your hand trembled involuntarily. “I know I don’t really know you,” You chuckled lightly, “or anyone for that matter, but I want to spend more time with you. We can just restart, fall in love all over a-”
“No!” She snapped, the sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her distressed eyes softened when she saw you, almost as if she thought you were made of glass, and that you would break at any moment. “No... please...”
She stood up abruptly, dropping your hand to lay dormant by the side of the hospital bed. “You don’t even know me! What’s the point?!”
Despite her angry appearance, her bottom lip trembled, and her voice shook as she spoke. Pricks of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them away desperately.
“You forgot me, so I’ll forget you in return.” She turned towards the door, grabbing the knob firmly. Despite her desperate need to get out of the room, her hand trembled and shook, refusing to turn the knob.
“I’ll...” A small sob wracked her body. “Find someone else...”
---
Contrary to what her heart truly desired, she refused to see you. She forced herself to cut off all emotional ties to you—after all, you didn’t even know her. It was painful to even speak to you. Somehow, the loss had felt like you truly had died in the explosion. Sure, you were physically here, but all that was you was gone.
It was Armin who finally brought her out of her depressed slump. He saw the state of her after weeks of staying huddled up in her room. It was so unlike Annie. Her room was a mess, and so was she. Her hair was unkempt and unbrushed, and she hadn’t even showered at all. Clothes lay scattered across the room, and the trash can in the corner of the room had started overflowing.
It wasn’t a pleasing sight, but he couldn’t blame her.
He had offered to meet him at a local café to talk—albeit, after she showered. She hesitantly agreed, and went into the bathroom to get ready. While she showered, Armin absentmindedly picked up some of the scattered clothing, putting it in it’s proper place, and even emptied the trash can for her.
He saw the slight shock in her eyes when she came out, surprised, but internally grateful for his help. She didn’t show it verbally, but she gave a thankful nod, and he understood.
---
Armin brought the cup to his lips, the steam flowing from the cup blocking his face as he sipped his tea silently, and Annie took another bite of her glazed donut.
“So, Annie.” He turned to face her, setting his cup down. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She sighed internally. Nothing yet had been spoken, but she knew it was about you. Her silence beckoned him to continue.
“I... No, we all noticed how you’ve been recently, and we understand it. Who knows what you’re feeling right now...” His sympathy went mostly unappreciated. She really didn’t want to be reminded of the depressive state she had fallen into.
“It’s completely up to you, but... we think it would be better for you if you decided to talk to her again.” Armin didn’t need to say who this ‘her’ was. Annie already knew.
She raised an eyebrow and considered his statement for a fleeting moment, but regained her stance. She wasn’t going to talk to you. No convincing from her friends would change that.
“See, the thing is, Y/N has been discharged.” He spoke, bringing the cup back to his face to preemptively fill the silence he anticipated.
No amount of emotional cover-up could hide the shocked look on her face. Part of her was ecstatic, deep down. She was glad you were well enough to leave. But, the other part reminded her that associating with you would only bring her more hurt.
“But, there isn’t really going to be any recovering from what she experienced, unfortunately.” He brought the cup back down onto the table, now empty of all it’s liquid. “So, the doctor advised that she be under careful supervision from someone at all times.”
Annie wasn’t stupid. She knew where this was going.
“So,” he huffed a breath of heavy air, “We decided that if anyone was going to take her in, it should be you, Annie. We want to take her back to live with you.” She could feel her jaw slack at the proposal, and a full-fledged war had just started in her mind. She registered he was still speaking, but was too conflicted to listen.
Once again, part of her mind was desperately trying to reach you. To take you in and care for you, and to ensure you have a safe and comfortable recovery with her. She could restart with you, and make new memories with you, and everyone else.
But she understand it would be painful. Unbearable, even. She might as well be taking care of a stranger. You didn’t act like Y/n, you didn’t look like Y/n, hell, you hardly even knew who Y/n was at this point. It would just hurt her even more, all she needed to do was get away from you—!
“Annie...!” Armin spoke firmly, slightly leaned over the table as if he had been prying for her attention for a while now. He reached across the table to grab her hand, causing her to gasp. His hand was warm. It reminded her of you.
“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was soothing and inviting, and she was reminded once again of what great friends she had made in the 104th.
“You think it’s gonna hurt, and it will, I’m sure. I understand too. She doesn’t quite act like she did before, we all noticed. It’s...” He paused, leaning back in his chair and looking to the side. It had hurt him, too. “Strange. To see a friend like this.”
He leaned forward, pulling his hand away to place it back on the table. “But you have to do something! Separating yourself from someone you care about so deeply isn’t good for you.” He brought his head up slightly, staring daggers into her eyes. “And don’t lie to me. I know you still care about her. You wouldn’t be so conflicted if you didn’t.”
Tears pricked at her eyes once again. She didn’t want to get emotional, and certainly not here of all places. But she knew he was telling the truth. She still cared, and it wasn’t good for her to ignore you.
“Besides,” He stood up, turning to leave. “She misses you too, Annie.”
---
She made up her mind that day. She was gonna bring you back home.
It wasn’t easy. Both the emotional aspect, but also cleaning up her filthy room in such a short span of time. Still, she prepped it perfectly for your arrival. She cleaned up the room, organized her things, made the bed, and even bought a second pillow—surely, you two couldn’t share just the one.
Picking you up from the hospital was bittersweet. You managed to stay standing, although only with the help of a wooden cane. Your hand gripped the handle tightly, and you leaned a large portion of your body weight on it, just to not fall over.
You had changed out of the raggedy hospital clothes, finally getting to wear something comfortable after so long, but even with the cloth, the purplish-redish burn scars coated much of your body. It reached from the very fingertips of your right hand, all the way up your neck and part of your face.
Still, you smiled weakly and brought your hand up to wave at her.
She approached you hesitantly, but as soon as you tried to stumble over to her, she rushed up to support you with an arm around your shoulder.
“Easy, now.” She muttered. “You should be careful.”
“Right,” You chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, having seen the outside for the first time in weeks. It didn’t stop the stone walls from towering forebodingly over you, though, but you felt at least some freedom.
“Where are we headed?” You sighed, and started walking. Annie guided you for the most part, but you managed to get your injured legs to cooperate, somewhat. You hand trembled as it gripped the cane, and even step on uneven ground caused you to stumble, but Annie’s grip kept you upright.
“We’re going...” She hesitated. “Home.”
---
Early morning birds chirped their greetings through the open windows, and the sun shone rays of dawn down from the sky. A typical wake-up call to her.
That, and your snoring.
She opened her eyes and stretched, easing up the tension in her muscles, which had laid painfully dormant for the past eight hours. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her attention shifted to the mass attached to her side.
Your arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and your head was buried in her chest. Despite having lived with you for a few weeks now, she hadn’t gotten used to the change. In the past, neither of you really cuddled in your sleep. You gave sweet goodnights and passed out on opposite sides of the bed just like that.
It was a welcome change, though, and seeing you tucked so comfortably into her side brought a smile and blush to her face. She ran a hand through your messy h/c hair, smiling softly as you stirred in response to the affection.
“...Mm?” You let out a groggy noise, having been woken up a little earlier than you were used to. Annie was always the morning person in the relationship.
“Good morning.” She cooed, removing her hand to sit up and get out of bed. Once she tried to stand, though, she felt a frail hand tug at her wrist. You grip was weak as a result of your injuries, and she could very easily wiggle out if she wanted to, but she faltered.
“C’mon...” You muttered, face down in the blankets, still halfway asleep. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”
Annie huffed in defeat, climbing back into the bed and shuffling back under the cotton sheets. You were back at her side in an instant, and she smiled once again. Even after everything, you were still just as cute as always when you were sleepy.
“We can’t stay like this for very long, you know.” She sighed, placing a warm, calloused hand on your back.
You groaned in annoyance at that. “Why’s that?”
“Armin and the others invited us out to get lunch. It’s been a while since the Survey Corps has had a day off.” She looked to the side before muttering quietly. “I also have to go to work with the military police... I’ve used up all my paid leave.”
“Oh... yeah, we should probably get ready.” Contrary to your tone, you were actually quite happy. Annie had been quite a bit overprotective of you since your injury, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to get out much. You couldn’t blame her much, though. You could hardly walk, eat, or do just about anything without assistance. You were glad she took good care of you, but it got a little overbearing sometimes.
“Let’s get up, then.” She said, slinking out of bed. You watched wordlessly as she slipped out of her night clothes into something more presentable, sliding her shirt over her head effortlessly. You couldn’t help but blush as your eyes trailed down her toned stomach.
She looked back at you with an unamused expression as she slid on a plain white shirt. “You shouldn’t stare, Y/n.”
“R-Right.” You looked away flustered. You had only technically known her a few weeks now, but man were you lucky.
Annie’s warm hand enveloping your own brought you back into reality, and you accepted her help wordlessly as you got out of bed.
She helped you out of your clothes and handed you something nice to put on for the day. It was a comfortable ritual the two of you got into, helping you get dressed in the morning.
She sat you down in one of the chair’s in her room, ordering you to stay put while she went to the military police mess hall to pick up breakfast for the two of you.
She came back into the room only a few minutes later, carrying two trays of food, and sat them down in front of both of you. It was a boring meal, typical of any military ration, but you didn’t complain.
“So, Annie,” She looked up from her food, still digging her fork into the baked potato on her plate. “Tell me a story.”
She smiled longingly, staying silent for a moment as she recollected her memories for a good story to tell. Ever since you lost your memory and started staying with Annie, you often spent mealtimes getting her to tell stories about you, her, and your other friends. About what happened in the 104th, and the Survey Corps, and sometimes, you’d ask Annie about her childhood and time before the military. She seemed very hesitant about the last one, but she still told you bits and pieces. You could easily infer that she didn’t have a very pleasant childhood, so you didn’t push the subject.
“Well,” Annie finally spoke, swallowing a gulp of water from her glass, having seemingly found a story she felt like telling. “One time, in the 104th, Sasha had managed to convince you to steal food from the pantry with her.”
You listened intently as she continued recounting the events, a sad smile on her face. “So you and her snuck in late at night, but Shadis heard both of you because of how loud Sasha was. So then, you two had no where to go but a tiny cramped pantry in the kitchen, and then—”
*CRASH*
You sat there like a deer in headlights as the glass shattered into hundreds of transparent shards on the floor, startling Annie out of her nostalgic trance.
“Y/n!” She exclaimed, standing up from her seat swiftly. She spotted the broken glass, mixed with the water it had held, and looked back at you. Once she pieced it together, she facepalmed.
“Y/n...” She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you to not to try and pick up things right now...”
“Sorry,” You muttered. “I just wanted to see...”
Despite the severity of your injuries, you were quite stubborn. No matter how much Annie insisted that you not hold things in your state, you did so anyway. It seldom worked, since, like now, you always dropped it within seconds.
“It’s... It’s fine,” She sighed, leaning down to carefully pick up the larger fragments of glass. Once she got the larger pieces, she dumped them in the trash and knelt down in front of your chair on one knee, grabbing your hand in her own. “But you need to remember, your injuries haven’t healed yet. Nowhere close. I know you hate it, but you need to let your body rest.”
You nodded sorrowfully. Yet, despite how much you promised, you knew you’d never really stop trying to push your body. Even if your skin was scarred, and hands were shaky, and the muscles of your legs atrophied and partially-paralyzed, you would never stop trying to live a normal life.
Annie had finished sweeping up the smaller shards of glass in the dustpan, and dumped it into the trash can, before returning to the table.
Silently, she grabbed her glass, still half filled with water, and brought it up to your lips. When you had first started living with Annie, you were a little embarrassed about having to be fed like this, but you had long since gotten used to it.
Once the glass was empty, she sat it down on the tabletop once again, and checked the time.
“Shit, we should get going, it’s nearly time.” She sighs, grabbing your cane from it’s spot leaning against the wall and handing it to you. You thank her and, with her help, stand up from your spot. Her arm slinks around your waist, allowing you to lean half of your body weight on the cane and the other half on Annie.
As you made your way out of the building and down the street towards the restaurant, you finally broke the silence.
“Annie?” You asked, quietly. There was an uncharacteristic sadness to your voice.
“Yes, darling?” She inquired, keeping her eyes glued on the trail in front of you.
“How come you still take care of me? Even after the accident, you still stick with me. Why is that?”
Annie chuckles dryly. She doesn’t want to tell you that it’s still a sore subject for her, so she answers honestly.
“It wasn’t so black and white, really. It was pretty upsetting to see someone I loved so much not even recognize me at all.” Her eyes bore into the pavement below her feet. “No offense, of course.”
“None taken.”
“But a friend of mine talked to me about it. And I realized there would be no point in running from it. I decided that if you didn’t know me, I would make you fall in love with me all over again. Plus,” She looked to the side, a faint red blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t want you to feel lonely...”
You giggled at her embarrassment, opening your mouth to say something, but she cut you off quickly.
“We’re here.” She stopped in front of the doors, and you easily spotted Mikasa, Armin, and Jean already sitting inside at one of the tables, exchanging lighthearted banter.
“Hey Annie.”
“Hm?” She turned the knob of the door, stepping foot into the bustling room.
“Thanks for taking care of me.” You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips.
“Of course.” She smiled in return. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“Oi!” Jean shouted from across the room, and Armin immediately tried to shush his yelling, but he wasn’t phased. “Annie, Y/n, hurry up!”
You and Annie giggle at his boisterous attitude, walking over to find your seats.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Y/N.” Mikasa smiled warmly, tucking her scarf around her neck.
You smile at the three of them, looking so happy and peaceful. You’ve missed it.
“Yeah,” You laugh. “So, what did I miss?”
This feels badly written but I can’t place it, I dunno.
Probably ‘cause I wrote the first half like a month ago and only finished it today lol.
And no I totally didn’t reference someone else’s fic in this haha nope
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyojin x reader#aot#snk#aot x reader#snk x reader#annie leonhart#annie leonhart x reader#annie x reader#fluff#angst
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
Full Order of Service (as the one below is missing pages)
from https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/order-service-funeral-prince-philip-77134393
LONDON -- This is the Order of Service for the funeral of Prince Philip on Saturday:
ORDER OF SERVICE
All stand. The Coffin is removed from the Land Rover and is carried to the West Steps where it rests at 3pm for the one minute National Silence.
The Coffin is then carried to the Catafalque in the Quire.
Members of the Royal Family who have walked in the Procession are conducted to their places in the Quire.
Meanwhile, the choir sings
THE SENTENCES
I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
John 11. 25-26
I KNOW that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.
Job 19. 25-27
WE brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.
1 Timothy 6. 7, Job 1. 21
William Croft (1678-1727)
All remain standing. The Dean of Windsor shall say
THE BIDDING
WE are here today in St George’s Chapel to commit into the hands of God the soul of his servant Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. With grateful hearts, we remember the many ways in which his long life has been a blessing to us. We have been inspired by his unwavering loyalty to our Queen, by his service to the Nation and the Commonwealth, by his courage, fortitude and faith. Our lives have been enriched through the challenges that he has set us, the encouragement that he has given us, his kindness, humour and humanity. We therefore pray that God will give us grace to follow his example, and that, with our brother Philip, at the last, we shall know the joys of life eternal.
All sit. The choir sings
ETERNAL Father, strong to save,
Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,
Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.
O Saviour, whose almighty word
The winds and waves submissive heard,
Who walkedst on the foaming deep,
And calm amid its rage didst sleep:
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.
O sacred Spirit, who didst brood
Upon the chaos dark and rude,
Who bad’st its angry tumult cease,
And gavest light and life and peace:
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.
O Trinity of love and power,
Our brethren shield in danger’s hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them whereso’er they go:
And ever let there rise to thee
Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.
Melita by J. B. Dykes (1823-76) William Whiting (1825-78)
Arranged by James Vivian (b. 1974)5
All remain seated.
THE FIRST LESSON
Ecclesiasticus 43. 11-26
read by the Dean of Windsor
LOOK at the rainbow and praise its Maker; it shines with a supreme beauty, rounding the sky with its gleaming arc, a bow bent by the hands of the Most High. His command speeds the snow storm and sends the swift lightning to execute his sentence. To that end the storehouses are opened, and the clouds fly out like birds. By his mighty power the clouds are piled up and the hailstones broken small. The crash of his thunder makes the earth writhe, and, when he appears, an earthquake shakes the hills. At his will the south wind blows, the squall from the north and the hurricane. He scatters the snow-flakes like birds alighting; they settle like a swarm of locusts. The eye is dazzled by their beautiful whiteness, and as they fall the mind is entranced. He spreads frost on the earth like salt, and icicles form like pointed stakes. A cold blast from the north, and ice grows hard on the water, settling on every pool, as though the water were putting on a breastplate. He consumes the hills, scorches the wilderness, and withers the grass like fire. Cloudy weather quickly puts all to rights, and dew brings welcome relief after heat. By the power of his thought he tamed the deep and planted it with islands. Those who sail the sea tell stories of its dangers, which astonish all who hear them; in it are strange and wonderful creatures, all kinds of living things and huge sea-monsters. By his own action he achieves his end, and by his word all things are held together.
All remain seated as the choir sings
THE JUBILATE
O BE joyful in the Lord, all ye lands:
serve the Lord with gladness,
and come before his presence with a song.
Be ye sure that the Lord he is God:
it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
O go your way into his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise:
be thankful unto him, and speak good of his Name.
For the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting:
and his truth endureth from generation to generation.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be:
world without end. Amen.
Benjamin Britten (1913-76), in C
Written for St George’s Chapel, Windsor at the request of The Duke of Edinburgh
All remain seated.
THE SECOND LESSON
John 11. 21-27
read by the Archbishop of Canterbury
MARTHA said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world.”
All remain seated as the choir sings
PSALM 104
The Duke of Edinburgh requested that Psalm 104 should be set to music by William Lovelady.
Originally composed as a cantata in three movements, it was first sung in honour of His Royal Highness’s 75th Birthday.
MY SOUL give praise unto the Lord of heaven,
In majesty and honour clothed;
The earth he made will not be moved,
The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.
The waters rise above the highest mountain,
And flow down to the vales and leas;
At springs, wild asses quench their thirst,
And birds make nest amid the trees.
The trees the Lord has made are full of vigour,
The fir tree is a home for storks;
Wild goats find refuge in the hills,
From foes the conies shelter in the rocks.
My soul give praise unto the Lord of heaven,
In majesty and honour clothed;
The earth he made will not be moved,
The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.7
O Lord, how manifold is your creation,
All things in wisdom you provide;
You give your riches to the earth,
And to the sea so great and wide.
You take your creatures breath and life is ended,
Your breath goes forth and life begins;
Your hand renews the face of earth,
Your praise my whole life I will sing.
My soul give praise unto the Lord of heaven,
In majesty and honour clothed;
The earth he made will not be moved,
The seas he made to be its robe. Give praise.
William Lovelady (b. 1945) abridged and arranged for choir and organ by James Vivian (b. 1974) with the composer’s permission
Words from Psalm 104, adapted by Sam Dyer (b. 1945)
The choir sings
THE LESSER LITANY
Let us pray.
All sit or kneel.
LORD, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
THE LORD’S PRAYER
OUR Father, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name;
Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
But deliver us from evil. Amen.
THE RESPONSES
ENTER not into judgement with thy servant, O Lord.
For in thy sight shall no man living be justified.
Grant unto him eternal rest.
And let light perpetual shine upon him.
We believe verily to see the goodness of the Lord.
In the land of the living.
O Lord, hear our prayer.
And let our cry come unto thee.
William Smith (1603-45), adapted by Roger Judd, MVO (b. 1944)
The Lord’s Prayer, Music by Robert Stone (1516-1613) from John Day’s Certaine Notes 1565
THE COLLECT
The Dean of Windsor shall say
O MERCIFUL God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is the resurrection and the life; in whom whosoever believeth shall live, though he die; and whosoever liveth, and believeth in him, shall not die eternally; who also hath taught us by his Holy Apostle Saint Paul, not to be sorry, as men without hope, for them that sleep in him: We meekly beseech thee, O Father that, when we shall depart this life, we may rest in him, as our hope is this our brother doth; and that, at the general resurrection in the last day, we may be found acceptable in thy sight; and receive that blessing, which thy well-beloved Son shall then pronounce to all that love and fear thee, saying, Come ye blessed children of my Father; receive the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. Grant this we beseech thee, O merciful Father through Jesus Christ, our Mediator and Redeemer. Amen.
THE PRAYERS
The Archbishop of Canterbury shall say
O ETERNAL God, before whose face the generations rise and pass away, thyself unchanged, abiding, we bless thy holy name for all who have completed their earthly course in thy faith and following, and are now at rest; we remember before thee this day Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, rendering thanks unto thee-for his resolute faith and loyalty, for his high sense of duty and integrity, for his life of service to the Nation and Commonwealth, and for the courage and inspiration of his leadership. To him, with all the faithful departed, grant thy peace; Let light perpetual shine upon them; and in thy loving wisdom and almighty power work in them the good purpose of thy perfect will; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Dean of Windsor, Register of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, shall say
O LORD, who didst give to thy servant Saint George grace to lay aside the fear of man, and to be faithful even unto death: Grant that we, unmindful of worldly honour, may fight the wrong, uphold thy rule, and serve thee to our lives’ end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
GOD save our gracious Sovereign and all the Companions, living and departed, of the Most Honourable and Noble Order of The Garter. Amen.
O GOD of the spirits of all flesh, we praise thy holy name for thy servant Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, who has left us a fair pattern of valiant and true knighthood; grant unto him the assurance of thine ancient promise that thou wilt ever be with those who go down to the sea in ships and occupy their business in great waters. And we beseech thee that, following his good example and strengthened by his fellowship, we may at the last, together with him, be partakers of thy heavenly kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Archbishop of Canterbury shall say
O LORD God, when thou givest to thy servants to endeavour any great matter, grant us also to know that it is not the beginning, but the continuing of the same unto the end, until it be thoroughly finished, which yieldeth the true glory; through him, who for the finishing of thy work laid down his life, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Amen.
ALMIGHTY God, Father of all mercies and giver of all comfort: Deal graciously, we pray thee, with those who mourn; that casting every care on thee they may know the consolation of thy love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.10
All sit as the choir sings
THE ANTHEM
GIVE rest, O Christ, to thy servant with thy Saints:
where sorrow and pain are no more;
neither sighing, but life everlasting.
Thou only art immortal, the Creator and Maker of man:
And we are mortal, formed of the earth, and unto earth shall we return.
For so thou didst ordain, when thou createdest me, saying,
Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.
All we go down to the dust; and, weeping, o’er the grave,
we make our song: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.
Russian Kontakion of the Departed
Translated William John Birkbeck (1859-1916)
Kiev Melody, arranged by Sir Walter Parratt, KCVO (1841-1924)
All stand.
As the Coffin is lowered into the Royal Vault, the Dean of Windsor shall say
THE COMMENDATION
GO forth upon thy journey from this world, O Christian soul,
In the name of God the Father Almighty who created thee;
In the name of Jesus Christ who suffered for thee;
In the name of the Holy Spirit who strengtheneth thee;
May thy portion this day be in peace,
and thy dwelling in the heavenly Jerusalem. Amen.
All remain standing. Garter Principal King of Arms proclaims
THE STYLES AND TITLES OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE PHILIP DUKE OF EDINBURGH
THUS it hath pleased Almighty God to take out of this transitory life unto his divine mercy the late most Illustrious and most Exalted Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Earl of Merioneth and Baron Greenwich, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, Knight of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, Member of the Order of Merit, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order upon whom had been conferred the Royal Victorian Chain, Grand Master and Knight Grand Cross of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, Lord
High Admiral of the United Kingdom, One of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, Admiral of the Fleet, Field Marshal in the Army and Marshal of the Royal Air Force, Husband of Her Most Excellent Majesty Elizabeth the Second by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories, Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, Sovereign of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, whom may God preserve and bless with long life, health and honour and all worldly happiness.
Thereafter, the Pipe Major of The Royal Regiment of Scotland plays
A LAMENT
The Buglers of the Royal Marines sound
THE LAST POST
After a period of silence the State Trumpeters of the Household Cavalry sound
REVEILLE
The Buglers of the Royal Marines sound
ACTION STATIONS
Then the Archbishop of Canterbury pronounces
THE BLESSING
All remain standing as the choir sings
THE NATIONAL ANTHEM
GOD save our gracious Queen,
Long live our noble Queen,
God save The Queen!
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save The Queen!
All remain standing in their places as Her Majesty The Queen, Members of the Royal Family and Members of The Duke of Edinburgh’s Family leave the Chapel via the Galilee Porch escorted by the Dean of Windsor and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Music after the service
Luke Bond, Assistant Director of Music, St George’s Chapel, will play
Prelude and Fugue in C minor BWV 546 Johann Sebastian Bach
END
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter Two: Reprieve
Fic Summary:
His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.
It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.
As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.
–
Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.
He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.
Rating: T
Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma
Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence
Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr
–
Katsuki wasn’t surprised to see one of his former classmates’ face on the news report with the tagline “found dead after hero-villain fight.”
The reporter gave a rundown of the fight that had happened a few days earlier on the other side of the city, between a small gang of villains and Ochako. The villains themselves weren’t very high ranking― potential to be B-rank if they were more organized as a group, but C-rank individually― but they had managed to cause a decent amount of damage before Ochako had arrived on the scene. The news replayed the footage taken live from the battle, showing Ochako using her quirk on larger pieces of rumble to assist the lower ranked heroes in the area with evacuation as she charged forward towards the villain group herself.
The footage wasn’t ideal. It was grainy from trying to capture the scene just outside of the limits of its scope and if it weren’t for the pink of Ochako’s hero costume, Katsuki was certain the camera person would not have been able to keep the camera centered on her. The footage continued until Ochako grabbed one of the villains, freezing seconds after the villain began to float. A red circle appeared around the villain’s face along with a mugshot before cutting back to the reporter.
In the aftermath of the fight, that one villain was never found.
Ochako had been frantic when they had met up after, her gaze thousands of miles in the distance every time Katsuki looked. She denied anything being on her mind despite it being so blatantly obvious that something was, but Katsuki chose not to question it. After all, if she had wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t have asked to meet him.
The report continued to explain the search procedures that had taken place over the past few days before describing a call on the tip hotline that ultimately resulted in the discovery of the villain’s body. While they didn’t show a photo of the body, Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder just how bad it was for the report to completely skip over the cause of death.
In the end, Katsuki supposed it didn’t matter what caused the villain’s death. Ochako was certain to end up finding a way to blame herself, for not paying better attention during the fight, for not trying hard enough to find the villain after, for being the last person who saw the villain alive.
Even if she didn’t, there were parts of society that would make sure she would never forget.
Cheeky: can you meet up with me today?
Katsuki: Takeshi’s?
Cheeky: yeah
Cheeky: drinks/dinner on me after if you want
Katsuki: I’ll be there at five. Don’t be late.
Cheeky: got it!
Cheeky: hey wait why are YOU telling ME not to be late when I’M the one who asked YOU to meet me
Katsuki: You know why.
Cheeky: it was ONE TIME KATSUKI ONE TIME
Katsuki was at Takeshi’s gym a quarter before five, reserving their usual space and changing into workout attire before sending Ochako a text to let her know he was already inside. He started his stretches, looking up only when he saw a pair of pink sneakers approach the ring.
“You’re late,” Katsuki said, continuing his stretches.
“By five minutes!” Ochako dumped her water and towel on the bench next to Katsuki’s, quickly joining him in the stretches. “I was outside before five, waiting for you!”
“I sent you a text saying I was inside.”
“Yeah, like two minutes before five!” She huffed. “I was totally on time.”
“Whatever. Hurry the fuck up.”
They continued preparing in silence, speaking again only to confirm that the other was ready to start. This time, only a couple of the guests flinched when Katsuki charged forward at Ochako yelling out “die!”
After the fifth time a hit landed that Ochako would have normally been able to block with ease, Katsuki stood down. Her form had been lacking for the better part of the past hour, and there were a few times that her blows hadn’t hit with the full force Katsuki was familiar with. She didn’t even react to Katsuki’s change in form until Katsuki had walked over to the bench for his water.
“Wh― hey! What gives?” She frowned but joined him for a water break when he didn’t return to the ring right away.
“Don’t insult me,” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the shock on her face, “You’re distracted. What kind of fucking spar is worth the time when your opponent isn’t giving their all?”
“I’m focused on the spar! I’m totally and completely here! I wasn’t insulting you but I am now, you’re just saying that because of your enormous ego,”
Katsuki paused, looking at her directly in her eyes. She didn’t flinch.
But the longer he held his gaze, the more Katsuki could tell that she was holding back.
“First,” He began, “Don’t be cheeky with me―”
“Well maybe I wouldn’t be so cheeky with you if you didn’t call me cheeky all the time!”
Katsuki held back an amused smile.
“Second,” He continued, “I hit you five different times in ways that you should have been able to block with your eyes closed.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment, because what I’m hearing is that you think I could fight you with my eyes closed.”
“Insult. You didn’t fucking block the hits, dumbass.”
Ochako huffed, crossing her arms. “Whatever. I’m going to focus on the compliment part of it.”
“Third, you didn’t even notice I walked away until after I reached the bench.”
“I― I was expecting you to come back! That it was some sort of trick to get me to lower my guard or something!”
“And fourth, you speak faster when you lie.” He let Ochako stammer for a while in response, continuing when her shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. “You sure this is the break you need? I don’t mind wiping the fucking floor with you if that’s what you want but you better respect my time back and fucking fight me with your all,” He shifted his weight a bit before adding hesitantly, “I can try to listen if you want to talk instead but that’s not really my thing,”
Ochako didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a drink of her water. Katsuki waited as patiently as he could, although he did offer her a glare to try to speed up her thought process.
She put her water back down and hit her knuckles together, briefly reminding Katsuki of Eijirou. “Okay! One more round. I need to redeem myself before we leave for drinks,”
Katsuki grinned, shoving her lightly with his shoulder as he walked back towards the ring. “Whatever you say, Cheeky. You’re still going to fucking lose.”
“I’ll make you eat your words, Katsuki!”
She did not, but not for lack of trying. Ochako actually paid full attention to the spar after the interruption and while Katsuki still had the upper hand on brute strength, she was nimbler and lighter on her feet. Katsuki was fairly certain that had the shift manager not interrupted to tell them that their time was up that Ochako was only a handful of moves away from finding some “barely legal in a spar between friends but completely legal in a rules free battle against a villain” opening and winning the round. While technically neither of them had won, he did agree—after some teasing and pestering— to counting it as her point in their ongoing scoreboard, adding, “But if you want me to count it as eating my words, you’ll have to fucking try again.”
Ochako seemed to be in a brighter mood when they met up again post-changing in front of Takeshi’s. She bumped shoulders with Katsuki as he approached and began chattering about work and her day as they made their way over to the restaurant they usually ate at after sparring sessions. He didn’t offer much other than the occasional “yeah” and swear when her story necessitated it, but she didn’t seem to mind. She spared him from talking until after they were already seated and ordered their food and drinks.
“Oh yeah! I heard from Tenya that you finally sent in your response to the reunion! Do you know when you’re heading down to Musutafu yet? We should get on the same train so that the ride isn’t as boring— well, kinda, since you’ll probably not be talking,”
“Shut the fuck up, I can talk when I want to,” Katsuki scowled, rolling his eyes when all it resulted in was a laugh from Ochako. “I haven’t looked at the train schedule yet. The Shitty Four Eyes approved for both the 28th and 29th off though.”
“Nice! Well, when you figure out when you want to head down, let me know and I’ll be your Anti-Explosion Time buddy for the ride down,”
“Oh fuck off.”
Ochako laughed again. Katsuki hoped this would be the extent of the reunion talk but she continued, “It’ll be great to see the entire class again, don’t you think?”
“You make it sound like we never fucking see anyone. I literally saw you a few fucking days ago and you spend half your weekends with Frog Face or Four Eyes or the fucking Nerd or whoever the fuck,” Katsuki pointed out. “We see basically everyone at the Billboards too,”
“Don’t be such a bore, Katsuki. Reunions are different from the Billboards. We don’t have to deal with those ‘damn extras’ at the reunion,” She put on her best Katsuki impression at “damn extras,” extending her palms outwards and adding a playful “Boom! Pow!”
“I don’t fucking sound like that.”
“Yes you do. I’m the great Katsuki Bakugou! Die you fucking piece of shit! Boom! Bam! You fucking extra! Bow before the king! Boomboom!”
Katsuki let the faintest hint of a smile slip. “I have never said ‘bow before the king,’”
“Oh come on Katsuki, you tried to name yourself King Explosion Murder, don’t deny it. Even if you’ve never said it, you’ve definitely thought about it.”
He scowled, muttering a “fuck off”, refusing to acknowledge that yes, yes he had thought about saying it once or twice.
“So you admit that I’m right!”
“Fuck off, I said no such fucking thing.”
“You didn’t say ‘no’ either though.”
“I’m demoting you to a fucking extra, you shitty fucking extra.”
Katsuki was given a brief break from any potential cheeky response from Ochako when the server stepped in with their drinks. They raised their glasses, a silent toast to making it another day alive, to making it as far as they had come, to their friendship.
To the silent understanding that there were some struggles that were best left unshared.
He didn’t press further about whatever it was that was stressing her out, even if he had a strong feeling about what caused it. She didn’t comment on the circles under his eyes or how his mind seemed to wander after she brought up certain high school memories. They talked, ignoring their stressors, and for a while, they could pretend everything was fine.
#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bakugou katsuki#Kaminari Denki#bakukami#kamibaku#katsuki bakugou#denki kaminari#bnha fanfic#mha fanfic#story#from the creator
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Metamorphosis
Ch. 5: A Companion’s Guide
Current Masterlist // Previous Story // Renata’s Masterlist
Fandom: Doctor Who // Pairing: 11th Doctor x OFC
Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @natalie-the-whovian
[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]
~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~
Chapter summary: The time travelers have to figure out who's behind the creature snatching people up while working with Liz 10 and in the end, Gabby has to urge Amy to look past the Time Lords’ anger to see what they’re truly all about.
The entire group had fallen into the chute and were thrown out only to land in a splash somewhere full of oddly colored liquid. The Doctor jumped back on his feet soon as he got his bearings, though he noted the flooring underneath was a bit odd. He flashed the sonic around to see where exactly the chute had brought them to.
"High-speed air cannon. Lousy way to travel!"
Renata thrashed the water before getting up. "You have got to stop throwing us down things when you've no idea where they lead!" She made a show by splashing some water to the side.
Despite knowing she was properly upset, the Doctor found it much too funny to be serious. She was covered in whatever liquid they'd landed in - he suspected a food refuse judging by the smell - and so all of her hair was sticking to her face. Her dress was pressed against her body again, something he'd begun to accept would be his downfall one day. She was trying to be angry but she kept scrunching her face and yelling about the horrible stench around them. Her kicking the food refuse was just a plus!
Yup. Completely, adorably, funny.
"Doctor, where are we?" Gabby was close to gagging with the odor around them.
"600 feet down, 20 miles laterally - puts us at the heart of the ship. I'd say... Lancashire. What's this, then - a cave? Can't be a cave. Looks like a cave!"
"WHO CARES WHAT IT IS! GET US OUT!" Renata shivered excessively. She might just throw up there and then.
Amy was still on her knees beside them. She kept touching the ground. "It's a rubbish dump, and it's minging!"
"Yes, but only food refuse!" the Doctor Doctor confirmed, not that it would make it better. "Organic, coming through feeder tubes from all over the ship."
"You are so dead," Renata threw him a murderous glare he chose to ignore.
"The floor's all squidgy, like a water bed," Amy pointed out. She'd been trying to figure out how best to describe what she felt and that was as close as it would get.
"But feeding what, though?" the Doctor asked while he took another read off the sonic.
"It's sort of rubbery, feel it. Wet and slimy!"
"Uh, Amy, let's not keep touching that," Gabby helped the woman stand up. "You never know what it could actually be."
And a moment later, the Doctor heard a distant moaning. He froze, letting his eyes dart to the dark 'walls' of the so-called cave. "Er...it's not a floor, it's a…" he put his screwdriver away and prepared the best way to explain his discovery. "So…"
Renata narrowed her eyes on him. With all her thrashing, she missed the moaning. The Doctor was grateful for it because now he had a few minutes to come up with a way that wouldn't get him killed.
"What is it?" she demanded a dangerously low tone.
"The next word is kind of a scary word." And it was a pretty scary moment for him right now. He moved closer to her, taking her sticky hands into his. "Take a moment. Get yourself in a calm place. Go 'omm'. Everybody! Omm!"
Gabby and Amy had no idea what he was doing but they would go along with it and see where it led. "Omm!" they collectively said.
"...it's a tongue," the Doctor had swallowed very hard, almost making it so that Renata couldn't understand him. Almost.
Her dark eyebrows arched up as her eyes widened. "A...tongue?"
"Aha...a great big tongue!" He couldn't help the excitement that crossed his face for a moment. It was a tongue! They were standing on an actual tongue! When could that ever happen!?
It was that same excitement that drove Renata mad. "I'm gonna kill you!" she pushed him away. "I hope you've enjoyed your small time in that incarnation because it's about to end!" She actually lunged on him, knocking them both to the ground. Her hands may have curled around his neck but she got a taste of the food refuse from their splash and nearly gagged on the side.
The Doctor was stunned that Renata had actually lunged on him, but he was close to laughing too. This new incarnation of hers was truly going to be an adventure. Perhaps it was a sign that things were going to change for the better now.
"Renata!" Gabby burst into laughter. Amy perhaps would've laughed if she wasn't still stuck on the fact they were inside a mouth.
Renata still narrowed her eyes on the Doctor under her. "You are so lucky there's witnesses!"
"I'm going to love you even more after this," he said before laughing. A blush bloomed across Renata's face, even more so when she realized their position.
Make a fool out of yourself why don't you? She quickly got off him and tried pulling her hair off her face. "How do we get out of here?" She reached for her pocket and took out her own sonic.
"What, you have one too?" Amy blinked at the golden-white sonic in Renata's hand. It even made the same sound as the Doctor's.
Renata gave a dismissive nod while she took a look at the readings. "This place is huge! Doctor, of all the places…"
"It's gorgeous!" the man exclaimed. She rolled her eyes in response. "Blimey! if this is just the mouth, I'd love to see the stomach." Of course soon as he heard the grunts in the back he regretted his words. "Though not right now."
"Doctor, how do we get out?" Gabby called to him. She would like if he didn't keep saying words that could get him killed by the mouth or Renata.
"OK, it's being fed through surgically implanted feeder tubes, so the normal entrance is…" the Doctor made a turn towards the white set of teeth properly shut. "...closed for business."
"We can try, though!" Amy said determinedly. She left Gabby's side only to take two steps and hear another grunt. "Or...not…"
"Oh, great, it's started," Renata lowered her sonic to her side.
Amy swallowed hard. Whatever was starting was her fault. "What has?"
"Swallow reflex." The Doctor said just before they were thrown back into the refuse. Renata yelled as soon as her entire body was covered in the refuse again. In a quick second the Doctor used the sonic on the walls to get another process started, one that he was sure Renata would thoroughly scream at him for.
"What are you doing?" Amy sat upright, too afraid to stand until somebody else did too.
"I'm vibrating the chemo-receptors!"
"Chemo-what?"
"The eject button!"
"How does a mouth have an eject button?"
As expected, Renata loudly screamed. "I really hate you! I hate this entire place and this entire ship!"
Gabby was about to ask for another explanation when they heard the creature growling and a wave of vile coming towards them. Oh, she might scream too.
The Doctor helped Renata stand up but she looked so close to murdering him he almost thought of letting her go. He winced at himself for that thought. "Sorry Renée. Only way out."
She would've indeed yelled at him had it not been for the terribly huge wave coming for them. "O-o-oh no…" Her hands suddenly clung to him.
"Right, then, this isn't going to be big on dignity," he tweaked his bowtie, not that it would matter in a couple minutes. "Geronimo!" He wrapped his arms around Renata's body to shield her from as much bile as he could.
Gabby and Amy tried cowarding behind one another, ushering the other one ahead before they would force each other to switch places. In the end, they all screamed as the bile collected them in its way.
~0~
When Gabby and Amy came to, everything was a bit distorted. They could see each other a few inches away but things were blurry. They could hear warbled voices in the background, going fast. It took a few minutes for them to realize they were lying on a hard, cold metal ground and that the voices they heard were actually Renata and the Doctor going back and forth in some conversation...or argument. Gabby wasn't sure.
"You really had to bring us there, huh? I always thought there was a wire in your head that's plugged into some box with the words 'act stupid' on the front!" Renata was watching the Doctor sonic the metal door that wouldn't open for them.
He looked over her shoulder at her, his expression a cross between wanting to laugh or be properly annoyed. "A box…?" The laughing was winning.
She huffed and folded her arms. "Being clean is something I love. I adore it. You know what I don't like? Being covered in sick! I was just thrown up like...like…" she groaned when no comparison came to mind. "It's just so terrible that I can't come up with the right word!"
"Ren?" Gabby called, alerting the pair she and Amy had woken up.
Renata turned around to help the girls stand up. "Don't worry. There's nothing broken, there's no sign of concussion and yes, unfortunately we're all covered in sick."
"And where are we?" Amy asked once she realized they were in a narrow room with, unsurprisingly, two Smilers.
"Overspill pipe, at a guess." Renata glanced back to see if the Doctor was anywhere closer to opening that door. He wasn't.
Amy crinkled her nose at the stench that seemed to be stuck on her. "Oh, God, it stinks!"
"Yeah, that's not the pipe," the Doctor paused scanning to shoot her an apologetic smile.
"Ugh! Doctor!" Gabby kept her arms away from her body. "This is by far the most disgusting thing that's happened to us!"
"Can we get out?" Amy wanted nothing more than to see a shower.
"One door, one door switch, one condition," Renata sourly said as she made her way up to the Smilers. She tilted her head at the smiling clown face. "It wants us to forget everything we saw. The audacity."
"Forget that we were inside the mouth of a creature? Honestly tempting," Gabby admitted after smelling a strand of her hair.
"Don't say that Gabbs," the Doctor gave up on the door for the moment. "There's a creature living in the heart of this ship and I'd like to know what it's doing there."
The Smilers knew the question was directed at it and, as a response, they turned around to show their angry faces.
"No, that's not going to work on us, so come on," the Doctor made a motion with his fingers for it to give the answer. "Big old beast below decks, and everyone who protests gets shoved down its throat. That how it works?"
Once again, the Smilers turned their faces, revealing an even angrier faces than the last.
Renata was exasperated with the Smilers by this point. "Would you just answer!?" She slammed her hands against the walls of their booths, at the same time expelling golden butterflies. With widened eyes, she backed away. "Oops…" she stared at her palms much like Gabby had earlier. "How does that work exactly?"
"At a first glance, seems like its connected to your current distressed state," the Doctor said, reaching for her closest hand. He examined it as much as he could with the naked eye, but there seemed to be no excess and it didn't seem to harm Renata like it had in her last incarnation.
"I got mad at the door that wouldn't open!" Gabby exclaimed, absolutely believing the Doctor's theory. "It must be when we're mad!"
"But not always, right?" asked Amy who had remembered the butterfly trick Renata showed her when the Doctor was examining the crack in her bedroom wall.
Renata seemed to read her thoughts and nodded with a smile. "Yes! But-" she dropped her smile as her eyes landed on the Smilers again, "-right now I'm beyond angry! I'm covered in sick because of a creature that's no doubt being tortured in the middle of this ship and some stupid clowns are holding back on us! So you better-" she threatened the booth with a pointed, glowing finger, "-start answering before you become Vortex dust!"
The booths opened up to let the two Smilers come out.
The Doctor quickly pulled Renata back, prompting Gabby and Amy to do the same. "May I just say, good response but terrible outcome?" he told Renata who agreed with a quick nod of her.
"Okay, what do we do now!?" Amy urgently asked them as the Smilers approached them. They were looking as terrified as she was and she took that as a bad sign.
Suddenly, the red cloaked woman had the door opened behind them and shot at the Smilers. They were momentarily stunned.
The Doctor whirled around, happy as ever. "Look who it is!? You look a lot better without your mask!"
The woman was showing her smiling face at them. Her eyes flickered past Renata to the humans. "You must be Gabby and Amy. Liz. Liz 10."
Neither girl could understand when this woman became their friend but would gladly take it!
"Bit late, aren't you?" Renata smirked at the woman.
"A thank you is in order!" the woman laughed. "Right. You know Mandy, yeah?" she moved slightly to let the others see the girl behind in the hallway. "She's very brave."
"How did you find us?" the Doctor asked her after realizing there was no the woman had been casually around the area.
"Stuck my gizmo on you!" the woman chucked a small device at him. "Been listening in."
"Let me see!" Renata took the device from the Doctor to study. "Oh this is great! It could come in handy to keep an eye on him!"
"HEY!" the Doctor was utterly offended. It didn't help that the others, including little Mandy, started laughing. "Seriously!?"
"Sorry, sorry," Renata apologized but she was still struggling to stop laughing. She held the device back to him, not even noticing when he swiped it from her hand with irritation.
"Anyways, you want to tell us what's a creature doing in the middle of the ship?" the Doctor looked directly at the cloaked-woman. "Oh, my bad, you also voted to forget."
The woman took the sarcastic jab calmly. She shrugged her shoulders and refuted the statement. "Never forgot, never voted. Not technically a British subject."
"Then who and what are you, and how do you know us?"
The woman tilted her head at him, giving him a smile asking him if he really needed to ask her that. "You're a bit hard to miss, love. Mysterious stranger, MO consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot…"
"Oh, another insult? Seriously!" the Doctor was reaching his limit with all these sarcastic jabs. Why was it always him!?
Renata felt guilty for taking her own jabs. She always did them and poor Doctor always had to take it. It was their dynamic, sure, but sometimes she needed to reel it back. She reached up to move some of his wet strands of hair off his forehead. She felt his body stiffen but soon relaxed under her touch.
"Sorry my dear. You do have the hair of an idiot but I love it," she said with a soft smile.
Well, that made everything better for the Doctor. He wouldn't mind if he stroked his hair all day. Actually, he might ask her if she could do that later. With any luck, she would say yes and they could have one calm day together.
When Renata was sure their little disagreement was resolved, she drew her hand away - an action the Doctor almost pouted at - and turned her attention back to the woman. "So, you were explaining how you know him?"
"Both of you, actually," the woman said. "Did I not make that clear?"
"Right, except that doesn't make sense. We haven't met you."
"No, I've been brought up on the stories. My whole family was." The woman noticed the Smilers beginning to twitch behind them. "They're repairing." The group looked back to see the Smilers and quickly took a few steps away. "Doesn't take them long. Let's move." She took the lead down the hallway and continued explaining herself to the pair. "The Doctor. Old drinking buddy of Henry XII. Tea and scones with Liz II. Vicky was a bit on the fence about you, wasn't she?"
"What did you do, Doctor?" Gabby threw the man a curious glance.
The Doctor preferred not to explain considering it really was his fault. "Torchwood," he left it at that and hoped she and Renata would get the jist.
"Knighted and exiled you on the same day!" the woman laughed. The Doctor scowled at her back. So much for keeping it a secret!
"That sounds like you alright," Renata mumbled to him as she rubbed his arm comfortingly.
"And how could I forget Marchioness Renata? Good friends with Anne of Cleves, bit rocky with dear old Henry VII - I'd be too, don't worry - but nobody more rocky than Liz I, huh? Goes for you too Doctor!"
"I haven't even met her! Doctor, what did you do!?" Renata glared at the man in question.
"How do you know I did something!?"
"Because it had to be! Notice how she didn't say drinking buddies of Henry VII, right?"
"Well, but…but you were the reason we couldn't go back to any Henry VII era!"
"Hey that was both of us!" Renata snapped loudly and jabbed her finger into his chest.
Gabby couldn't help snicker at the reminder of that precise trip. Amy heard the laugh and raised an eyebrow at Gabby, asking her what she knew.
"Long story short..." Gabby pulled Amy a bit closer to speak quietly without being heard. Of course with Renata and the Doctor arguing, she didn't have to try so hard. "We met Anne of Cleves and her then-husband, Henry VII, who wanted Renata as his wife. The Doctor got jealous, made a whole thing about it and we had to run for it in the end."
Amy hid her laugh behind her mouth and turned her head at the Time Lords. They were still going at it strongly.
"I didn't do anything!" the Doctor was shouting.
"Don't lie to me! Martha also told me this Queen was particularly upset with you! And now she hates me too!?"
"I didn't!" the Doctor insisted but Renata wouldn't listen. Gabby and Amy both shared equally confused but curious glances with each other.
"Good story to come, I hope," Gabby snickered with the ginger.
It wasn't until the woman introduced herself as Liz 10 - Elizabeth X - that the Time Lords stopped arguing.
"And down!" Liz shot at the pair of Smilers behind them. "I'm the bloody Queen, mate. Basically, I rule." She led them into another corridor that would bring them to the base of a vator shaft. "There's a high-speed Vator through there."
The Doctor noticed two tentacles sticking out of a caged area, much like the one Gabby and Amy saw earlier. "There's these things. Any ideas?"
"Oh, we saw one of those up top," Gabby said as soon as she saw the caged area. "Right, Amy?"
"Yeah!" the ginger nodded. "There was a hole in the road, like it had burst through, like a root."
"It's all one creature," Renata said and shuddered. "The same one we were inside minutes ago, but now it's reaching out. It must be growing through the mechanisms of the entire ship."
Liz eyed the cage with newfound horror. "What? Like an infestation?"
"Someone's helping it. Feeding it…" the Doctor tried getting nearer to it but Renata yanked him back.
"Feeding my subjects to it," Liz muttered and stormed off. "Come on. We've got to keep moving." Mandy followed in a hurry and just as Amy and Gabby were going to do the same, they noticed the Time Lords staring at the tentacles with odd expressions.
"Guys?" Gabby called to them while Amy gestured that they needed to be following Liz.
"We should have never come here," the Doctor resolved with a sigh. The creature banged against the bars keeping it inside. He should have just ran those exams on Renata and maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't have caught sight of this ship.
Amy remembered the video she left for herself, warning her to get off the ship. Could it be related to the creature? And if so, why was it so urgent!?
~ 0 ~
Liz's bedroom was covered with a maze of glasses of water. It was a certain challenge getting around it but Liz was a master as she swiftly crossed the room to reach her bed. Sometime later would see the travelers cleaned up from showers, though Renata swore she would take a proper, long bath when they went home.
"What are these glasses for?" Gabby asked in a slight frustration after nearly knocking one over.
"To remind me every single day that my government is up to something, and it's my duty to find out what," Liz said in what sounded like a recital.
"Lovely mask," Renata eyed the porcelain mask sitting at the foot of the woman's bed. She knew the Doctor had already taken a quick study of it while she was in the shower, but she wanted to see it with her own eyes. "Guess you would need it if you're a queen going undercover to investigate her own kingdom."
Liz was dead serious as she watched Renata turn her mask over. "Secrets are being kept from me. I don't have a choice. Ten years I've been at this - my entire reign - and you've achieved more in one afternoon."
"That's him alright," Renata said without even gazing up from the mask. The Doctor stopped pacing behind her, his amused expression asking her how she knew that line had been directed at him. She glanced at him with a wink.
"So Liz, how old were you when you came to the throne?" he asked afterwards.
"40. Why?"
Amy's mouth nearly dropped when she heard that. She turned away from the mirror after putting her hair up. "What, you're 50 now? No way!"
"Don't let physical appearances fool you," Gabby said before throwing a thumb at Renata and the Doctor. "Ask them how old they are."
"Ask and it's the last thing you'll do," Renata calmly said while she studied the mask, though under her calm words there was a clear warning.
Amy chuckled and went to sit on the chaise with Mandy.
"Yeah, they slowed my body clock. Keeps me looking like the stamps," Liz added for humor.
"Do you always wear this in public?" Renata waved the mask at Liz. The woman nodded her head.
"Undercover's not easy when you're me. The autographs, the bunting."
Renata had on a strained smile before she glanced at the Doctor. He already knew.
"Air-balanced porcelain. Stays on by itself, cos it's perfectly sculpted to your face," he said quietly. Liz missed the knowing looks the pair were sharing.
"Yeah. So what?"
Renata met the woman's gaze a few seconds later with her strained smile stronger than ever. "Oh, Liz. So everything."
If they had been about to share what they knew worth Liz, they never got the chance. Four hooded men burst into the room, startling Liz out of her bed.
"What are you doing? How dare you come in here?" she rushed up to them in outrage.
"Ma'am, you have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK. You will come with us now," one of the men dutifully announced.
"Why would I do that?"
The man's head then spun to show the face of an angry Smiler.
"Mm, that's why!" Gabby exclaimed in horror.
Liz was appalled as she stumbled away from the men. "How can they be Smilers?"
"Half Smiler, half human," the Doctor said, rather disgusted.
Liz didn't seem to share the same sentiment. She was beyond furious and anyone who was responsible would feel it. "Whatever you creatures are, I am still your queen. On whose authority is this done?"
"The highest authority, Ma'am," the Smiler, to his credit, did obediently answer.
"I am the highest authority!"
And that should be your first clue, Renata almost rolled her eyes. The human was too angry to even notice it.
The Smiler agreed with Liz, yet another clue that the woman missed, and announced that he would led her and the rest to the Tower of London. They were brought to a large stone room full of machinery. Only a few feet inside, Amy and Gabby noticed more of the creature's body was sticking out of grates.
"Where the hell are we?" Gabby wearily looked at the Time Lords.
"The lowest point of Starship UK," the Doctor said, giving the room a little spin. "The dungeon."
"Hawthorne!" Liz barked a gray-haired man who'd approached the group. "So this is where you hid yourself away. I think you've got some explaining to do."
"Excuse me," Renata called with a similar authoritative tone. "Why are there children down here?" Her question made Amy and Gabby realize there was a line of children doing hard labor around the room. "It seems hardly safe for them. Where are their parents?"
"Protesters and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast," Hawthorne replied with the most casual tone, easily enraging Renata in a second. "For some reason, it won't eat the children. You're the first adults it's spared. You're very lucky."
"You tried feeding children to the creature!? How dare you!?" She looked ready to lunge on him and it didn't seem like the Doctor would try to stop her.
The only reason he wouldn't join her was because his eyes had gone to the type of equipment around the room. One Time Lord for each problem.
"And you agreed to this!" Renata turned on Liz, startling the woman with the sudden change of direction her rage took.
"I did not!"
Renata's loud scoff made everyone around her flinch. "Yes, you did!"
Gabby pulled Renata back a few steps. "How could she? She's investigating her own kingdom, remember?"
"I remember, but she doesn't! This isn't even a dungeon room, it's a bloody torture chamber!"
"Ren, what are you talking about?" Gabby happened to look in Amy's way and saw the finger's mild fear. If she was in Amy's place, Gabby would agree the sight of angry Time Lady was fear-worthy. "Doctor?" she called to the man for some help.
"She's right," the Doctor agreed, speaking in a low tone.
Gabby recognized that immediately even if was in a new incarnation's voice. Oh great, they're both angry.
"Torture chamber of the Tower of London, except it's not a torture chamber, for this lot," the Doctor sourly went on as he strolled by the equipment. "I suppose it just depends on your angle." He came for Liz and, despite the woman's reluctance, he led her to an open well which was reply just a view into the engine.
Liz peered over the railing to see something huge and it was moving. "What's that?"
"It's your engine," Renata muttered, ignoring Gabby's please beside her to explain why she was so upset.
"Well, like I say, depends on the angle. It's either the exposed pain center of big fella's brain, being tortured relentlessly…" the Doctor trailed off.
"Or?"
"Or it's the gas pedal, the accelerator - Starship UK's go-faster button."
"I don't understand…"
The Doctor was getting frustrated with the lack of brains around him. The answer was right in front of Liz and she wasn't getting it! "The spaceship that could never fly, no vibration on deck. This creature - this poor, trapped, terrified creature. It's not infesting you, it's not invading - it's what you have instead of an engine. And this place down here is where you hurt it, where you torture it, day after day, just to keep it moving."
As if to help prove his point, an intermittent electrical beam shot down into the well, directly hitting the creature's exposed brain. Liz was stunned and she dared not look over the tails again.
"Tell you what," the Doctor hastily made his way up to another well to lift its grate. "Normally, it's above the range of human hearing. This is the sound none of you wanted to hear." He used the sonic on an extension that had come undone in the grate. A loud, piercing sound filled the air until the Doctor stopped it.
Gabby felt tears come to her face when she realized that the sound was like a cry, a cry of the creature. "It's being tortured nonstop?" Renata nodded at her and finally Gabby realized why the two were so angry.
Amy hadn't yet reached that level and she was suddenly wondering if she wanted to.
"Who did this?" Liz demanded to know from the workers. She was furious, just like Renata and the Doctor.
"We act on instructions from the highest authority," Hawthorne said, but Liz still didn't understand.
"I am the highest authority!" she snapped. "The creature will be released, now." But even with all her anger, nobody moved from their spot. "I said now! Is anyone listening to me?"
The Doctor slowly returned to her side and took out her mask from his pockets. "Liz. Your mask. Look at it. It's old. At least 200 years old, I'd say."
Liz could not understand what was so damn important about that mask. She recalled how long Renata had kept it under her eye. "Yeah, it's an antique, so?"
"Yeah, an antique made by craftsmen over 200 years ago and perfectly sculpted to your face. They slowed your body clock, all right, but you're not 50. Nearer 300. And it's been a long old reign."
Liz almost laughed at the absurdity. "Nah, it's ten years. I've been on this throne ten years."
"It's been the same ten years," Renata clarified as she started heading for a small table set not too far from where they entered.
The Doctor led Liz by the hand and since the woman was utterly confused, she let it happen. "The same ten years over and over again, always leading you... here."
Liz swallowed rough when she saw a screen with a two buttons in front of it, reading "forget" and "abdicate". She turned a hard glance on Hawthorne. "What have you done?"
"Well it wasn't him," Renata corrected. "He's only following your orders."
Hawthorne nodded in agreement. "We work for you, Ma'am. The Winders, the Smilers, all of us." He reached over to the turn on the screen and as soon as it came to life, a recording of Liz herself appeared. It was what brought Liz to sit down and truly listen.
"If you are watching this...If I am watching this, then I have found my way to the Tower Of London. The creature you are looking at is called a Star Whale. Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travelers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the last of its kind. 'And what we have done to it 'breaks my heart. The Earth was burning. Our sun had turned on us, and every other nation had fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter. And then it came, like a miracle. The last of the star whales. We trapped it, we built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish our voyage to continue, then you must press the "forget" button. Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the other button. Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintegrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision."
Amy felt sick to her stomach. "I voted for this?" She asked the Doctor and Renata despite already knowing the answer. Their grim faces just confirmed what she already knew. "Why would I do that?"
"Because you knew if we stayed here, we'd be faced with an impossible choice," the Doctor muttered with a growing sense of anger at the woman. "Humanity or the alien. You took it upon yourself to save us from that. And that was wrong." He turned completely to her and once Amy saw his face she backed a step. "You don't ever decide what we need to know."
Gabby sent Renata a look asking her to step in, but Renata did not move. She was just as upset but her method of expressing anger had always been to seal it away. Gabby really dreaded the idea of that trait following Renata into her new incarnation. Seeing that Renata wasn't going to help, Gabby moved to stand between the Doctor and Amy.
"Hey! She doesn't even remember doing it!"
Having Gabby in front of him didn't make his anger any less. "But she did it. That's what counts!"
"I'm... I'm sorry," Amy said, at a loss for other words.
"Oh, I don't care," he turned away, storming towards the equipment. "When I'm done here, you're going home."
Amy gasped. "Why!?"
"Doctor, that's being unfair!" Gabby called but he didn't stop for either of them.
"I made one mistake!" Amy argued as she moved to stand beside Gabby. She appreciated the girl's help but she didn't need anyone to fight her own battles. "One mistake that I don't even remember doing it!"
There was no telling if the Doctor was truly examining the equipment he would need for his new plan or if he was just distracting himself from looking at either girl. "Yeah. I know. You're only human."
Gabby's eyes widened. That one might have just hurt her heart. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" the Doctor said nothing more so Gabby turned expectantly at Renata.
The Time Lady had watched the entire argument unfold with no clear expression of which side she was leaning to. "We get it, we do, but Amy you shouldn't have chosen to forget on our behalf. You don't get to make that choice for us."
"I'm sorry," Amy insisted, hoping that at least Renata would be able to know she was being honest. All Renata did was nod though.
"What are you doing?" Liz asked the Doctor, taking a few steps towards the man but stopping when she got a better look at his darkened expression.
"The worst thing I'll ever do. I'm going to pass a massive electrical charge through the Star Whale's brain. Should knock out all its higher functions, leave it a vegetable. The ship will still fly, but the whale won't feel it."
"But that'll be like killing it!" Amy exclaimed. She didn't remember pressing any buttons but she knew, she knew for sure, that she had pushed the 'forget' button to spare them pain. She only failed to think about the creature.
The Doctor's hands slammed down on the machinery and glared up at the group. "Look, three options. One: I let the Star Whale continue in unendurable agony for hundreds more years. Two: I kill everyone on this ship. Three: I murder a beautiful, innocent creature as painlessly as I can. And then I find a new name, cos I won't be the Doctor any more!"
"But there must be something we can do, some other way," Liz said but that was the Doctor's patience had finally snapped from the thread it'd been hanging on.
"Nobody talk to me!" he roared, startling everyone into silence. "Nobody human has anything to say to me today!" After that, nobody tried to stop him anymore.
All except for one person.
'I think you may have hurt Gabriella's feelings back there…'
Nobody would notice the one second the Doctor momentarily stopped working. This was the first time Renata had spoken telepathically to him since he regenerated.
'You're that upset my dear that you've unintentionally lowered your mental shields,' Renata came up to stand on the other side of the equipment he worked on. 'Never really talked about connecting telepathically but since your door is open, I'm going to step in for a moment.'
'Are you not upset?' the Doctor raised his gaze to meet Renata's eyes.
'Oh no I am very upset. Amy did something terrible but...she did it with good intentions. I can relate to that. I'm sure you can too.'
The Doctor wouldn't give in so easily despite the kind face he had in front of him. 'They have been torturing this kind creature for centuries, Renata. How am I supposed to react!? Not everyone has your ability to bottle things in!' As soon as he thought - or said - those words, the Doctor closed his eyes with regret. His hands stopped working over the controls and drew back. 'I'm sorry. I didn't...I shouldn't have-'
Renata smiled lightly at his guilty self. 'No, no, that's completely fair. I did that a lot. But just to be clear, I'm not saying that you shouldn't be upset. I'm only saying, from personal experience, that you shouldn't push people away. When they do things like these, with good intentions, it's best to go back and see things from their perspective. I know it's hard, especially because of the circumstances but it does help.'
The Doctor smiled to himself, almost shaking his head. He always wondered how she could be so wise, even when they were younger. She always had the right words to ease something that could seem so impossible. 'I love you, you know. I'm glad I have you around...in this way.'
Renata reached over the equipment to grab his hand. 'Me too. And know that whatever you do, whatever you decide...I'm here.'
The Doctor swallowed hard as his eyes roamed over the equipment. The choice had already been made. He just needed to get through it.
~ 0 ~
Gabby and Amy sat on the ground together against the wall. They could do nothing to stop what was going to happen to the creature. All they could do was simply wait for it. Amy, however, felt like she was waiting for more than Gabby...because she was.
"I messed it up," she said quietly, bringing her hands up to her temples. "I messed it all up…"
Gabby could feel Amy's genuine guilt and put a comforting hand on the ginger's arm. "It was an honest mistake. Don't worry, you're not going home."
Amy scoffed quietly. "Oh please, you heard the man."
"You don't know him like I do. I mean...I don't know him like Renata does but I know him enough to know that he says a lot of things when he's angry. He's heartbroken."
Amy wasn't convinced. She had felt the Doctor's rage with one simple glare and she was not interested in being on the receiving end again. "If I make mistakes like that, maybe I shouldn't be around."
"We make mistakes, trust me. I did too," Gabby shrugged. Her eyes flickered to Renata who had drifted away from the Doctor to stop more children coming in from working.
Amy dropped her hands to her lap and questionably looked at Gabby. "You did?"
"Yeah, on my very first trip just like you. I pissed off Renata when I overstepped about something I heard about her. It was about her past and Renata is a very reclusive woman. I made the wrong choice by asking her, pestering her, until she snapped and threatened to drop me back on Earth."
Amy's eyes widened as she quickly glanced at Renata. The Time Lady was clearing off some soot of a child's face, trying her best to make the boy smile. She even bopped his nose with a glowing golden finger to enchant the boy. Amy couldn't see Renata acting the same as the Doctor when she was angry. Hell, she couldn't even picture Renata getting angry.
"She can get angry," Gabby said as if she read Amy's mind. Amy looked away from Renata with a light smile. "The Doctor's right, Amy, we're only human but that's not an insult. It does hurt a bit when he says it angrily," she sighed. "He's actually very fascinated with our kind. We're that good." She bumped shoulders with Amy, eliciting a smile from the ginger. "But you have to understand that even though they look young...the Doctor and Renata are actually very old. They've seen so many things that sometimes they snap. And our job as companions is to help them come back from it. We can't make them come back but we can try our best."
"So what can we do right now?" Amy helplessly asked as she cast another look at the Doctor. He was fervently working and had been for time now which meant the creature would be dying soon.
"I don't know. We better start thinking."
Amy blew a raspberry at their hopeless situation. "Great."
"Just look at the butterflies," Renata's voice carried over to the girls' spot.
Amy craned her head in time to see a few of the children 'awwwing' at a few golden butterflies fluttering in the air. A light smile spread across Amy's face as she recalled the same trick being used on her all those years ago. It had truly made her feel much less afraid of the crack. Renata gave the allusion of what a mother was.
Mandy had joined the group without neither Amy nor Gabby noticing when, but Amy did spot one of the creature's tentacles creeping out of a grate towards Mandy. Amy panicked and scrambled to get up but just as she straightened up, the tentacle only tapped Mandy's shoulder and then allowed the girl to pet it.
"Amy?" Gabby gently called to her but Amy was thinking suddenly.
"It won't eat the children…"
"The children screamed, then it came. It's the last of its kind."
Amy watched Mandy and a few other children pet the tentacle and it almost looked like the creature was trying to play with them.
"No, it's okay," Renata was soothing one of the younger children crying at the tentacle. "It won't hurt you. I'm here."
"There were, but there aren't...just us now."
Amy's eyes flickered to the Doctor after watching Renata conjure up a few more butterflies for the scared child. There was no doubt in her mind he would be trying to pull off some crazy stunt to make the scared child laugh too.
"Doctor says he never interferes in the affairs of other peoples or planets but then he does when there's children crying?"
"Oh, if there's a child crying he'd stop everything."
Amy then looked down at Gabby who was still trying to decide if Amy was alright. She'd stopped calling Amy's name but she was keeping a close eye on the ginger. Something was going on inside her head.
And indeed there was.
Amy felt like slapping herself for being so clueless! The Doctor was right, she had to have kept her eyes open! She should've noticed everything! "Doctor, stop!" she yelled and rushed towards Liz. Everyone, including the Doctor and Renata, stopped to see her taking Liz's hand and racing for the voting buttons.
The Doctor was quick to panic once he realized what Amy wanted to do. "Amy, no!" he went after them but he didn't make it in time. Amy had brought Liz's hand down on the 'abdicate' button. "AMY!"
The creature bellowed underneath them, rocking the entire ship.
The Doctor nearly fell back if he hadn't caught onto pillar. Renata's arms flailed trying to keep the children around her from falling back.
"AMY!" she yelled as upset as the Doctor.
Gabby had managed not to smack face-first to the ground, but she wasn't the same as the Time Lords. "No, let her! She's figured it out!" She had no doubt that Amy realized something none of them had. She would never put them all in danger like this. She didn't seem the type.
Amy laughed as if agreeing with Gabby. The ship slowly stopped shaking and actually returned to normal...with a few differences.
"We've increased speed," Hawthorne was stunned as he looked over their readings.
"Yeah, well, you've stopped torturing the pilot! Gotta help!" Amy dramatically flapped her hands around the room.
"It's still here? I don't understand," Liz moved over to Hawthorne's side to see the readings herself.
"The Star Whale didn't come like a miracle all those years ago. It volunteered!" Amy began to explain, growing more excited by the second. "You didn't have to trap it or torture it - that was all just you. It came because it couldn't stand to watch your children cry. What if you were really old, and really kind and alone? Your whole race was dead, no future. What couldn't you do then?" Amy started making her way towards the Doctor, her smile softening as she took in his guilty face for not realizing it before. "If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind...you couldn't just stand there and watch children cry." And just to really make her point, she purposely nodded at Renata who was surrounded by the children.
"Oh, she's good," Gabby smiled proudly at Amy.
~ 0 ~
Once everything was settled on the ship, Renata and the Doctor found it easy to slip away from the crowd. They'd wandered to the observation deck where they found such a beautiful sight of a starry space.
"It's funny how times change," Renata's soft voice broke their mutual silent wacth. "Last time I saw stars...we were fighting the Master. And we were hiding in a Vinvocci ship. Oh, and the world was ending." She let silence pass between them again when it truly donned on her where they were a short while ago, and what they were doing. "That was two days ago."
The Doctor said nothing at first as he reached for Renata's hand. "Two days ago seems like a very long time ago."
Renata side-glanced him with a small smile across her lips. "Doesn't it? Now we're here," she squeezed her hand around his and faced the stars again. "Looking at some stars, on a ship with a creature driving it…"
"Flying it, technically," the Doctor couldn't help make the correction but instead of getting annoyed, Renata chuckled.
"Flying it," she amended.
The Doctor gripped her hand again, licking his lips nervously as he turned to her and gently using their interlocked hands to turn her as well. "Renée, I don't know why I forgot about it but...would you consider connecting telepathically?" Renata's eyebrows slowly raised, her expression giving him the impression she would refuse. "I-I know we did it temporarily twice but this time, if you'd like, we-we could...officially do it. I would understand if you think it's too early, but...if I may give my opinion?"
Renata chuckled. "When don't you?"
He agreed with a sideways tilt. "Right. We've only just started a relationship but the truth is we've known each other far longer. What happened between us...it's been a long story. I've known you for my entire life even if I've only seen you in three of my incarnations. Most of my thoughts you know anyways, but I'd like it if you could see every part of me. Who knows, maybe if you see what really goes through my head you might realize I'm no good. But at least you'll have known who I really am."
"I know you," Renata said matter-of-factly. She slipped her hand out of his to bring it up to his cheek. "I've always known who you are. Of course I know I don't know all of your thoughts, or every you, but I know you. I know who you are." She stepped closer to him, leaving barely any space between them. "I would love to finally connect our minds. Who knows, you might see the real me…"
"I know you," the Doctor clarified just like she had. "My Gala."
Renata let out a small gasp at his brief Gallifreyan use. The last time she heard him say her true name in their language was centuries ago, too many centuries ago. "My Theta." The Gallifreyan just tumbled out but before the Doctor could fully process it, she'd pulled him to her for a kiss.
Their minds slowly opened to one another, inciting a slow, passionate kiss that they hadn't really shared yet. Memories from each other flooded their minds, ones that they knew - that they were both a part of - and others that were new. No secrets would be left uncovered because that was a thing of the past, something they promised each other going forwards.
~0~
By the time Gabby and Amy realized they were missing their drivers, Renata and the Doctor were already waiting for them by the TARDIS.
Amy nervously carried Liz's porcelain mask in her hands and held it out for the pair to take. "From Her Majesty. She says there will be no more secrets on Starship UK."
"My type of monarchy," Renata gingerly took the mask into her hands. "And leadership in general."
Amy smiled but anyone could tell she was bursting with questions about her stay.
"Amy, you could have killed everyone on this ship," the Doctor was the one to break the terse silence.
"You could have killed a Star Whale," she countered.
"And you saved it. I know, I know."
Renata curled her arm around the Doctor's arm and smiled at Any that kind, warm smile she'd gotten as a child. It was the one that told Amy things would be okay. "We're sorry. We may have rudely snapped. That happens sometimes."
At this familiar words, Amy glanced at Gabby and shared a knowing smile together.
"Why do I feel like we're missing something?" the Doctor asked Renata as he watched the two humans.
"Because you always do."
"Oi!"
"Don't worry, Doctor," Gabby put an arm around Amy's shoulders. "I've just been giving Amy some insight into the life in the TARDIS."
"You would," Renata gave her companion a proud smile.
"I wanted to be like Donna when I first came aboard," Gabby admitted and for a moment she, Renata and the Doctor dedicated a moment of silence to their missing friend, Donna Noble. She would forever leave a scar in their hearts.
"Thanks Gabby," Amy genuinely thanked her new friend because otherwise she may not have made it this first trip.
"Gabbs, I am sorry if I hurt your feelings," the Doctor said once he remembered the terrible look in Gabby's eyes after making his human remark.
Gabby shook her head with a chuckle as she came to give him a hug. "I like to think that I know you enough for these types of situations!"
"Still," he dropped a kiss to her head. "You're family. We don't fight."
Renata barely controlled the urge to scoff when she thought about her family. "We should go. I think we could all use nice baths."
"Mhm!" Gabby pulled away from the Doctor. "I've got some nice bath bombs, Amy! Bet you've never seen a bath bomb that shoots images into the air!"
"What?" Amy's eyes widened, making the others laugh.
"I bet you'll like the one with stars! My favorite is the butterfly one!" Gabby motioned to be followed in as she hurried into the TARDIS.
"Don't forget we need to run tests on you!" Renata called after the girl but it didn't seem like Gabby had heard.
Amy chuckled. "Do you always act like a Mum?"
Renata blinked at her and for a moment it looked like she would be saying something but instead she looked at the Doctor. "Why do they all say that?"
Now the Doctor laughed. "You really haven't figured it out?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh forget it." She turned around and disappeared into the TARDIS.
"Come along, Pond! Big day tomorrow!" the Doctor nodded at the TARDIS and missed Amy's wide eyed expression.
"Sorry, what?"
"It's always a big day tomorrow. We've got a time machine. I skip the little ones."
Amy found her breath once she realized he wasn't talking about her wedding. Her wedding. She shook her head and followed the Doctor inside. Renata and Gabby had no doubt disappeared into the corridors which gave Amy a motivation to ask, "You know what I said about getting back for tomorrow morning...have you ever run away from something because you were scared, or not ready, or just...just because you could?"
"Once...a long time ago," the Doctor came straight to the console. He started the TARDIS up and brought them into the Vortex.
"What happened?"
He turned with a smile. "Hello!"
Amy laughed. "Is that how Renata left too? Because I really can't picture that, you know."
The Doctor's smile faltered but it returned just as quick when he remembered how it was that she came aboard the TARDIS. That might make a good story for Amy. "Actually, I kidnapped Renata, stole her right off 1969."
Amy's eyes bugged out but there was a clear doubt on her face, only further confirmed by her scoff. "No way!"
"Yeah, I did! Nicked her off the ground and threw her over my shoulder!"
"Please, don't sound so regretful," Renata appeared by the corridor threshold, arms crossed and with a mock glare on the culprit. "I should've had the Shadow Proclamation on you when I had the chance!"
The Doctor just smirked proudly as he gave a little spin.
It was then that Amy realized he had not been kidding. "Wait, this actually happened!?"
"Oh yeah!" the Doctor said, once again spinning as he made a round on the console.
"Seriously, at least try to look a little sorry!" Renata walked up the glass steps to the console.
"Why would I be?" the Doctor stopped to smirk at her.
Renata mock-glared again and shook her head. "Amy, go on. Gabriella found the bath bombs." Amy nodded and hurried towards the corridor. "Not even going to apologize then?" she continued with the Doctor, but judging by his proud smile the answer was a no.
"I used to want to but now I changed my mind!"
"You're evil!"
"Smart!"
Amy laughed. "Okay, that's seriously funny!" And kind of romantic. She wouldn't mind if the same thing happened to her.
#ocappreciation#doctor who#11th doctor#fd: doctor who#dw#dw fics#dw imagines#11th doctor fics#11th doctor imagines#oc: Renata Cartwright#gabby gonzalez#amy pond#fic: metamorphosis
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi there! I hope I'm not too late for sending in asks 👉👈
Prompt : kai and Bryan having feelings for each other and being pissed off about it.
And you can use the dub names :)
Okay so I actually thought about this one for awhile and added some RESSYFAERIE FLARE so I hope you like it! Lets get these 2 silver boys goin- (disclaimer i know fuckin nothing about guns cause im canadian lmao), also I don’t know much about Bryan’s character (I mean there’s not much to go off of in the anime haha so I hope I get it right!). * are private thoughts! LOTS OF F BOMBS, because apparently I can’t write these Russian fucks without swearing every 5 seconds-
Kai finally admitted it.
He forgot how to shoot.
Obviously- he forgot most things from the abbey, and he preferred to keep it that way, but this one thing-
“I get why you forgot.” Bryan shrugged his shoulders in their Russian training room. “But why do you want to remember?”
Kai hesitated before answering, “I want to take over the company one day. But I can’t take over a weapons manufacturing company if-”
“You forgot how to shoot a gun.” Bryan completed his sentence for him so he wouldn’t have to struggle.
“Yeah.” Kai let the word fall like thick tar.
“We all learned in the abbey, I know that.” Kai was desperate to get these thoughts out.
“Benefits of being a child soldier.” Bryan kicked his legs up and balanced them on a table.
Kai looked to the side.
“You’re worried about something else, what is it?” Bryan’s dominating attitude never affected Kai, but it was worth a shot.
Kai simply looked back at him, his classic emotionless stare.
“Spill the damn beans Hiwatari.”
Kai sighed, “What if- I remember something when I’m learning.”
“That’s why you can’t have just anybody teach you?” Bryan nodded finally understanding.
“Yeah. I imagine Boris’ teaching techniques weren’t exactly-”
“Normal?”
“Ethical.” Kai chose his words wisely, like always.
“If you stop with that proper speech around me I’ll teach you.”
Kai’s eyes lit up slightly, “really? I wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily.”
“Gun range tomorrow. Bright and early. I’ll give you bonus points if you bring one of those new Hiwatari pistols.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Ah,” Bryan shrugged, “Worth a try.”
-
Kai waited in the range, Bryan was as usual, late.
“Hey Kai.” Bryan approached with his learned silent walk. Kai jumped slightly when he appeared behind him, “sorry didn’t mean to scare you.”
Kai rolled his eyes. “You totally did, don’t lie.”
Bryan gave him that deep growl laugh that Kai liked.
*Wait liked? Did I just think that- For real?*
Inside the range it was dead quiet.
“I like coming here early, no one is here. Not many people like to play with guns first thing in the morning.” Bryan grabbed a table and moved it closer to one of the stalls as if he owned the place.
Kai crossed his arms, watching him and absorbing him- his technique.
*Focus on learning you idiot-*
Kai shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Kai landed back on planet earth and wondered when Bryan had placed the pistols on the table in front of him.
“Do you remember how to load?” Bryan began to tear one apart piece by piece.
Kai shook his head.
“Try.” Bryan used one hand to gesture to the table “oh- wait”
Bryan walked towards Kai and got a bit close for comfort.
“What the fuck are you doing-” Kai flinched back and closed one eye when Bryan plopped something around his neck.
Kai felt his face flush a bit.
*Fuck, fuck fuck fuck-*
Kai reached for the heavy thing around his neck, “Oh- earmuffs.”
“What do you think I would put around your neck? Weirdo.” Bryan shot him a confused glare.
“I- I don’t know!?” Kai became worried when he didn’t think through his response, he sounded like a teenage girl, he hated it.
Kai took a deep breath and approached the table.
“It’s not loaded.” Bryan reassured him.
Kai went to grab the pistol but his hand hovered overtop of it, he was scared, it frustrated him that he didn’t know why.
Bryan slowly grasped his hand and lowered it onto the gun. He held his hand there for at least a minute, Kai wasn’t counting, but he was shaking slightly.
“Don’t be scared I’m here.”
“Fuck off-” Kai tried desperately to not be a schoolgirl but he came off a bit rough.
“Alright fuck you too then figure it out yourself.” Bryan ripped his hand back at the speed of light.
Kai’s emotions were all over the place, he hadn’t even noticed himself picking up the pistol and treating it like an old friend, loading it with much practice.
“Woah.” Bryan’s eyes grew wide, he felt a feeling flutter in his chest, and he again, pushing it away, menacing stupid feelings.
Just like that Kai was holding a loaded pistol. He stopped in his tracks and let his eyes fall on it. He was silent.
“You alright?” Bryan worried about him, he worried about him all the time.
“I’m fine. How do I shoot it?” Kai turned to the partitions mentally locking on to the targets far away.
“Try it for yourself first- oh.”
Kai was already in form, so Bryan took it upon himself to strut over and put his ear protection on for him.
Kai wasn’t pulling the trigger. He left the safety on, unmoving.
“Here you have to fix your stance.” Bryan poked Kai’s bicep when he didn’t respond.
*Guess he can’t hear me.*
He grabbed Kai’s leg and tried to organize it differently, then kicked his other foot. “There that’s good, not you’re arms-” He delayed thinking of how to do this without getting his hands all over Kai- As much as he wanted to-
*What the fuck!? I don’t want to touch him- I what- Ew!*
“I have to grab your arms Kai.”
“What!?” Kai was confused.
“Okay here-” Bryan stood behind him and wrapped his arms over Kai’s shoulders.” He reached for his forearms and tried to move them, “Oh my god Kai fucking untense jesus-”
Kai let himself relax a bit.
“There. Wait-”
Bryan leaned his head over Kai’s shoulder and clasped his hands around Kai’s over the pistol.
“This isn’t quite right-” He moved a few of Kai’s fingers. “There!” He jumped back fast trying to hide his red face from Kai.
*What? I’m so done with these feelings it’s just Kai it is JUST KAI!*
Kai’s breaths were ragged.
Bryan became worried. He got closer to Kai again and grasped his shoulder, “In your own time.”
Kai’s jaw moved, he bit his lip and held the gun tighter.
*Fuck that’s hot-*
And he shot the gun 1, 2, 3, 4 times.
Bryan felt the electric shock run through his body on every shot.
Kai turned to look at him, he took off the ear protection.
“Can you reload it?” Bryan asked.
“Yeah.” Kai began to reload it and then went back to his stance. He grew uncomfortable, “can you show me again?” Kai asked uneasily.
“Of course.” Bryan took his old position behind Kai, this time leaning into his back more, because, well- Fuck you that’s why.
“Put my earmuffs back on asshole.” Kai grinned.
“Of course fuckface.” Bryan accidently grazed Kai’s chin when he grasped the muffs.
He put them on Kai’s ears and gave them a pat, he still stayed behind Kai, he wasn’t sure why, and it pissed him off that he couldn’t move.
Kai shot the gun again 4 times. The sound from behind was deafening and Bryan leaned into his shoulder a bit more, against his will the words he had been thinking for a while slipped out.
“I think I like you and it’s driving me fucking crazy-”
Kai still held the gun, unmoving.
*He couldn’t have heard me, there’s no way- the earmuffs*
“What did you say?” Kai angled his head to stare at him.
“N-Nothing- reload and shoot asshole-”
“It sounded like you’re gross.” Kai couldn’t keep his face expressionless, he was cracking a smile, he hated it.
“I’m not gross?”
“Even though you like me?”
The gun range had never been quieter.
Bryan’s face turned red as a beet, first from embarrassment, then anger.
“I don’t fucking like you, you rich brat fuck you! Fuck!” Bryan pushed himself away from Kai, Kai put the gun back and took the earmuffs off onto the table beside the gun.
“These earmuffs suck.” Kai had never been more stoic, it pissed Bryan off.
“How the FUCK are you so NORMAL right now? Are you messed in the head-”
“Yes.” Kai’s expression grew from stoic to furious.
“You’re an idiot Kai Hiwatari- and you can learn how to shoot yourself- Die for all I care-” Bryan crossed his arms, his face was still the same shade of red.
“You’re the idiot, moron!” Kai rolled his eyes.
“Why? You know what fuck you-”
“Because I think I like you too… Bitch.” Kai’s last word didn’t hit as hard, but Bryan felt like he had been hit with a shotgun.
“You’re an idiot Kai really? For real. You’re fucked.”
“You’re fucked- I can’t even shoot a gun and yet here you are-”
“Cause of your fucking soft skin and dumb breath and stupid lips and your adams apple, it’s just always there!” Bryan raged and took a few steps towards Kai, he was ready to fight this guy.
“Well I hate you’re stupid hair and face- and you’re videogame obsession and- mf!”
Kai’s words were cut short when Bryan grabbed his stupid scarf and the back of his moronic head and pulled him closer kissing him in the process.
Angry making out is weird, but they loved it.
Once they pulled away someone had to break the silence. Kai decided it had to be him, somehow the more sociable of the duo.
“I think I know how to shoot a gun now… Thanks.”
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bones - Sugawara Koushi
AU: Corpse Bride (Groom)
Revamp
Word Count: 3k
"Watta wuss."
You walked through the forest on the edge of the city, trying to get away from your responsibilities. Decomposing leaves and bark decorated ground you walked on. Looking around you found yourself in an open patch, but towers of wood in every direction. The trees were old and weary, slowly shedding all of their components for fall. You shivered as a breeze whistled through them. A chill crawled down your spine as you sat on the tree stump in the centre of the open grass. You glared into the dark shadows of the forest with a huff.
The moon let off a dim light that made everything look like an old movie, too dark to make anything out. The shadows were intense and the light was dull. Even as your eyes adjusted to the dark, it was hard to see. You fiddled with the golden ring your parents dropped in your hands before you ran off. Leaning forward, you studied the cool metal that was too big for your finger and the small diamond that twinkled gently.
"I have to propose. I have to plan for the wedding. I have to pay for the wedding. I have to buy the house. I have to do everything while he just goes to the tavern every night while his parents think he's doing his damn job." You ranted, getting up to pace in circles around the stump.
"Oh, sir!" You chanted snobbily, freezing in position, holding the ring out in front of you, dramatically flicking hair over your shoulder. "I couldn't help but notice how handsome you were as I was passing by. In fact, I'm meant to get married. I even have a ring that I must use to propose to a man worthy of it! Please, do me the honour of picking up after your worthless self for the rest of my miserable life. Your presence will make it all the more bearable."
Leaning down to a branch sticking out of the dirt. You slipped the ring onto it and spun away, landing on your knee. The wind danced happily through your fingers that were flared open in the air behind you.
"Oh look, a perfect fit! You must be my husband. It's meant to be!" tilting your head toward your shoulder you let out a low grumble, letting your eyes roll along the rim of your eyelid. "If only you would get off your lazy ass for a change."
"Well I sure do hope that wasn't directed at me."
Turning in circles, you looked for the source of the man's voice. All you saw were the dark woods that surrounded you, making fear take over the anger you that was boiling in your stomach. Your shoulders twitched up to your ears.
"Down here."
If someone said a stick could talk, after today, you would believe them. The stick, that was wearing the engagement ring, was now positioned as if wearing a sock puppet, moving it’s thumb as it spoke. The wrist rolled snootily.
"But I sure do hope you won't speak to me like that, because I for one believe that as your fiance, I should be treated like royalty."
Blinking you stepped away from the stick and waddled back around the stump. Crouching onto your knees, you held the wood’s rim tightly. The pinky and pointer fingers curled up, creating a shape that took the place of the hand’s eyes.
"I've gone insane. They've driven me mad. I'm talking to a stick. Wait no, a stick is talking to me!"
Looking at the twig and moving back and forth, you watched as it watched you. Pointing in the direction you leaned. With a loud whine, you smacked your forehead on the wooden stump.
"As much as I deeply care for you. Could you not call me a stick? I am flesh and bones after all, well, mostly bones. But I still have flesh... Somewhere... But I can't seem to find it at the moment. It has a tendency to fall off from time to time,” it laughed. How could it laugh?
The hand moved around a bit more before opening up in your direction.
"You could always help me of course, you are my fiance after all."
You quickly got to your feet, speeding around the stump to face the old root.
"I'm not your fiance. You're not my fiance. I'm dreaming. This isn't real. I'll wake up tomorrow morning and—"
"Do you trust me?"
"What? What kind of question is that? You’re a twig!"
"This world. Your life. It brings you pain. That much is plain to see… uh, hear. If you were to come with me. You wouldn't have to face it any longer. Please, as my fiance?"
Shivering, you looked at the open hand/stick thing as you stepped towards it and let your hand hover over it. Your upper lip curled when you noticed the fuzzy moss that had grown in the center of its palm.
"My names (Y/N). And I'm not your fiance."
"Well, princess, the name's Sugawara, Koushi. And I'm sure you won't be saying that for long."
Placing your hand in it, you felt each joint bend and wrap around it. The gagging was hard to stop when the moss pushed in between the crevices of your fingers.
"You're rather boney, sweetheart. You don't eat much meat do you?"
"Don't have a stomach to do so."
Before another word could slip off your tongue, it pulled you in. The light reflecting off the moon made the diamond on the ring twinkle, giving you a bit of light in the black abyss that surrounded you.
"What in the world?!"
"Correction, what in the underworld," Sugawara said as he pulled you along through the crowds of zombies.
"Underworld?!" you looked around at the walking corpses around you as they tilted their hats, said hello and/or waved in your direction. Your hand quivered as you waved back.
"Yes! I live here. And here we will get married." He turned a corner that led to a flight of stairs.
"Married?!" you stopped dead in your tracks as Sugawara's body continued forward. Leaving his arm with you. His detached hand had a very firm grip on yours. You screeched and tried shaking the limb off, but its grip continued to tighten. “Eughh! Get it off, get it off get it off!”
"Yes married! You proposed didn't you? Oh, do you mind bringing me my arm? It gets attached easily, won't let you go just yet." He didn’t at all seem to mind missing an arm.
A chill ran through your spine at the idea of forever being attached to a detached limb of a dead man. You took a step forward, pushing the arm back into its socket with a sort of snap before eagerly pulling away with a disgusted gag.
"(Y/N), now that my arm’s attached, how about we go talk to the priest and discuss our marriage? Or do you want to go home first? You're probably tired and hungry. Home it is then. I can make you a great meal. Would you prefer decomposed scrambled eggs or mealworm sandwiches? Oh, you know what, I’ll just surprise you. Come along!"
The short ramble was finished when he started walking again. His skin, though still faint of colour, looked much fresher? At least compared to those in the streets, who had flesh falling off their cheeks. His hair was a light grey, though you wouldn't be able to tell if it was natural or just grey from death. He looked young, much too young.
"Sugawara, how did you die?"
Looking at you Sugawara smiled with an upbeat laugh as he continued walking. The light laugh calmed your nerves slightly making you feel at ease despite the peculiar situation. He guided you gently onto cracked old steps that led up a hill.
"I was murdered," he said, opening the door to an old rickety building.
He walked in with his hands open, palms facing the old wooden boards, and a small sway. It looked like he was trying to not skip around. You stayed in the doorway. Nails digging into the skin of your arms. You had forgotten to grab a coat when you ran out of your house.
"Ah," he sighed as he pushed things around on a circular table in the room. "Home, sweet home. Don't mind the mess, it's just something I've been working on."
He picked up various bottles filled with things from liquids to objects and set them on a counter nearby. The house wasn’t messy, just old and slowly collapsing on its side.
"Murdered? By who? When?" you asked, holding your hands tightly together as Sugawara sat you down at the now organized table.
"I don't quite remember. Your mind begins to go the longer you're dead. Time-wise it might have been 5 years ago? Maybe 6." he went to the kitchen and began putting some food together, but continued to talk over his shoulder. "Tomorrow morning I need to speak with the witch. So, we could go speak to the priest first and then consult the witch on my project."
He placed an unknown pile of what could be food before you. “It may be a bit rough. I haven’t needed food for a long time. Or air for that matter.”
"Either you live." The old (oh so very old) man's finger shifted to point in your direction instead of Sugawara who he was speaking to, "Or she dies."
Smiling, Sugawara nodded, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the door. "That went well."
"Well?" You asked. Eyebrows beginning to push in opposite directions.
"Yes well. We have two options and they are both very simple. Now knife or mallet?"
"For what?"
Stopping Sugawara turned to you with a slightly confused look on his face.
"To kill you of course. What else would they be for, princess?"
Completely freezing in your place you shook in fear at the thought of dying at the hands of a weapon. Sugawara's laugh on the other hand gave off a completely different story. Turning around, he took hold of your shoulders, squeezing them with his sharp, boney fingers.
"I'm kidding! Why do you think we're going to the witch? I've been planning for this for ages. Now my chance to live again, take back the life that was mine and get rid of a murderer in the process. Maybe an axe? That would hurt more right?"
When the two of you got to a large door, Sugawara used the looped handle to knock against the wood. An old (but definitely less decayed) lady opened the door and allowed the two of you inside.
You mumbled to Sugawara under your breath, “Whatever lasts the longest without knocking them unconscious will be the most painful.”
"Last bit," you said, dropping an unidentified liquid into the brewing mixture in front of the three of you.
Sugawara clung to the side of the pot but suddenly let go when it began to boil, causing his hands to rip off as they still hung to the metal. You gently pulled them off and shoved them back in place, giving Sugawara back the ability to pat your head gently. He sighed looking at the lavender liquid as it bubbled.
"This took longer than expected," you grumbled.
"How long did you think it would take?" Sugawara smiled down at you and laughed to himself.
"A week at most. I now know that I drastically underestimated the amount of time it would take to do this. Do you want to try it?" you asked holding his boney arm above the brew.
"You should take a sip too. Your time spent here has taken a role in your health. You look like a ghost." He smiled, filling two vials with the potion.
You grimaced, looking at your skin that had lost a lot of pigmentation since getting here.
The old lady packed away her things and pulled out a book on potions and magic and she sat to read. "Close your eyes. That way you won't go blind." she croaked out.
Sugawara handed you a vial as he held his own. He smiled so broadly it ripped the sides of his mouth. He didn’t seem to feel the pain. You winced for him and held up the potion.
"Cheers."
When you had shown up to your parents’ house with a man that they had never seen they were a bit more than furious. After a number of days spent missing just to turn up with someone other than the ones they had suggested, your parents were more than willing to give you a lecture that lasted a few hours. You apologized for running away before going into your own rant about how poor their choice in men was (your dad was more offended by that). After discussing the agreement further, with Sugawara happily listening in by the closed doorway, the three of you had finally come to an agreement.
Sadly it left you in a similar situation as before. Working and paying for everything until Sugawara found a job. A job that wasn’t going after his previous murderer.
Trees created a thick wall around the two of you. You laid down in the grass circle in the centre of it. Looking up at the sky, you watched as the pastels melted together in a sunset. Forcing yourself to sit up, shifting the extra weight on your legs as you tried to move and lean against the tree stump.
"It's good to see the colour in your face. You look alive. You aren't skin and bones either. You finally have some muscles in that body of yours." Your fingers twisted the ends of his silver hair as his head rested on your lap, looking upwards to see the tops of the trees and light sky. His cheeks were full and free of tearing the skin. His hands were strong with underlying muscle but still looked gentle. No bones were in sight. His hair colour didn’t seem to be a bi-product of death though.
"It's nice to have a heartbeat. And be able to feel yours."
You smiled and let your hand rest on Sugawara's chest as he breathed in suddenly and heavily.
"Don't forget the breath."
"Sorry, I still have to get used to that."
You looked up at the trees, watching the bright birds flying around as they enjoyed the spring heat.
"Is that marriage proposal still on the table?"
"Mawiage," the priest, though trying, said horribly. He continued on, his lisp making his words come out jumbled and difficult to understand. He stood on a tall stool and wore a long robe to appear much taller than he really was. He read off a folder to the few people who sat in the audience that was made up by your closest friends and family. Which meant they were all laughing loudly every time the priest spoke and ready to go out and get drunk.
In front of you, Sugawara held your hands gently squeezing them every time the priest tried to pronounce any 'l', 'r' or 's' sound. At least he was cheap, or at least you thought he was.
"May youw wove watht ath wong ath the mithithippi wiver. Wasthing until death doeth you part."
Sugawara squeezed your hands tightly as a snort escaped from him. The priest shot an annoyed look at the silver-haired man wearing a nice suit. You pinched your lips together desperately trying to hold onto your breath
“Sorry,” he whispered.
A small number of flowers were spread along and around the small church. Your friends sat in their seats smiling in nice clothing as they watched you and a previously dead man get married. Earlier that day your friends split themselves up between jobs. Some took Sugawara to get a suit, a few grabbed decorations and brought them to a small church all while booking a last-minute priest and the last two shoved you into a white dress that flowed around your ankles. It had a few holes here and there, and it had definitely been worn by multiple people before you, but did the job. But, it was obvious that they spent more money on Sugawara’s suit.
"Would you pweath not thpeak. I’m twying to wowk hewe."
"Sorry, again. Please continue."
Sugawara turned to you, smiling gently as he leaned closer to rest his forehead against yours. He huffed a restrained breath through his nose.
"Your friends are amazing. It's hard to believe they managed to do all this in a morning," he said.
"They probably have been planning this for weeks. They love you." You smiled, flicking your eyes to your friends.
"I love you," he whispered, trying to pull you as close to him as possible.
"I love you too."
"Yeth yeth, I wove you too. But you may now kith the bwide."
Laughing, Sugawara pulled you closer, holding you as if you were about to dance out of the church and onto the streets. You tried not to snort into his face as his hand tickled your side. It got harder to restrain yourself when he started to talk.
"May I kith you, printheth?"
You chortled, throwing your head backwards while smacking his shoulder repeatedly. He chuckled but waited for your response.
"Yeth you may, my pwinth."
With a grin, Sugawara placed his hands on the small of your back pulling you right up against him. Your heart throbbed sending tingles down your spine and onto the palm of your hands. He held you like a glass sculpture that could shatter at any moment.
He places his lips gently against yours, squeezing you when he began to run out of air. He huffed, sucking in as much as he could.
"I still got to get used to this breathing thing."
I would put a gif of Betty White dabbing, but that’s distracting. - Bacon
Posted: 03/08/2020
#Haikyuu x reader#Sugawara Koushi#sugawara x reader#Haikyuu#x reader#oneshot#oneshots#haikyuu oneshots#haikyuu reader insert#reader insert#aus#haikyuu aus#fluff#haikyu#anime x reader#anime#manga x reader#manga
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Sick
Chapter 3- Jeno
pairing: nct dream ‘00 line + reader
chapter warnings: very brief mentions of gore
words: 2.7k
summary:
“I just kinda thought you were joking around, y’know? But then my parents really didn’t come home, and the phone lines really aren’t back up.”
notes: this is kind of filler but also kind of necessary to determine oc’s relationship w the boys??
masterlist | prev | next
You’ve been listening attentively to Jaemin and Renjun for the past twenty minutes, your gaze darting from boy to boy as they explain the story as bluntly as possible. Jeno winces when Jaemin describes the things they’ve seen- he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the brains splattering over his windshield- but you don’t even flinch. Honestly, Jeno can’t tell if you believe them or not.
“-and now we’re here. Sorry for breaking in and stuff, we did try to knock.” Jaemin finishes, running his hand through his hair anxiously. It’s silent for a bit as they wait for you to respond.
“So you saw the girl start seizing,” You finally say, eyes piercing straight into Jaemin’s soul. “And you just magically knew what was happening and bolted.”
Jaemin nods slowly. Jeno can tell by the tone of your voice that you definitely don’t believe them. You stand up, walking over to where the food is spread out across the floor. A can of peas rolls towards them when you nudge it with your foot. “This seems like a lot of emergency food. Were you really shopping for peas?”
Frustration builds up in Jeno’s gut, curling under his skin. You don’t believe them, and he can’t even blame you. It sounds insane. But it’s real, and it’s happening, and the worst part is that it’s not like they can prove it to you without going outside and showing you a real… well, whatever those things are.
“Well, no, but I was near the aisle with all that stuff in it and I just kind of grabbed it as I went.” Jaemin explains. “I wanted to be prepared.”
“I dunno, man. I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, and my first thought has never been ‘whelp, guess it’s the zombie apocalypse’.” Your eyebrows are raised, head tilted to the side.
Jeno’s had enough. He’s tired, he’s scared, and he’s reached his breaking point. “Look, I don’t care what kind of weird shit you’ve seen. Have you ever seen someone bite a man’s nose clean off? Have you ever seen someone run full speed at a moving car and proceed to consciously bash their own head in? Hmm? You ever driven with blood and brains splattered across your windshield?” Donghyuck reaches out to tug on his hand and it’s only then that he realizes he’s standing. He keeps his eyes on you as he sits back down, forcing himself to relax. “I know it sounds stupid, but we aren’t fucking lying. I don’t know how else to prove it to you, unless you want to run outside and find a zombie.”
His words hang in the air for a minute and he’s worried that he’s been too mean, has let his temper get the best of him. But then he realizes that the look in your eyes is calculating, and the way your eyes are roaming over him isn’t because you’re scared. You’re sizing him up.
“No, I don’t want to do that.” You say softly, picking up a box of cake mix. “But I do think that we should organize our food. Seems like we’re going to be here a while.”
Jeno is utterly, completely confused. You have just pulled a complete one-eighty, going from disbelieving to fully supporting their story. All four of the boys exchange wide eyed glances, not sure what to do. Renjun eventually shrugs, standing up. “Good idea. Be careful what you give Donghyuck, though. He’ll probably eat it.”
Donghyuck whines in protest, swatting at Renjun’s thigh and missing by a foot He gets a bag of tortillas thrown at him, the same ones he had squashed in the cart. You move to the fridge, pulling everything out, only raising an eyebrow when you notice Jeno watching.
“Gonna help? Or are you too worried about your nose?” It’s teasing, mocking his words from earlier. His jaw clicks and he feels his fists clenching, has to put conscious effort into calming himself down.
“My nose is fine.” He grumbles, taking a carton of strawberries from you and slamming them down much too aggressively. The plastic dents. You smirk.
Organizing everything only takes about thirty minutes, but Jeno is absolutely exhausted by the end of it. He lets himself melt into the softness of the mattress, limbs heavy. You’d given them a house tour- Jeno had argued that they’d already seen the house and you had just told him that they had, quite frankly, done a shit job of searching- and let them steal your brothers room for a bit. “Just until they come back.” You’d said, throwing them some clothes. “Also, you kind of reek.”
Jeno had to bite back a snotty remark of “they’re not coming back”, because that’d be too mean even if he doesn’t like you. Also, he doesn’t know if they’re coming back or not, doesn’t really know much of anything. The so called ‘apocalypse’ could be over within days and he would have no clue.
His head is on Jaemin’s chest, and he’s forever thankful for the younger. Jeno’s been ranting for way too long about you, but the younger’s let him go on interrupted, playing with his hair to soothe him.
“Even the way she fucking looks at me is so- ugh, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like she thinks she’s better than us, like she knows something we don’t.”
Jaemin, apparently, has had enough of Jeno’s bitching. “Jen, I know you’re scared and frustrated right now, but I think you’re reading too much into it. We did just break into her house, and a zombie apocalypse isn’t exactly a believable story. She’s probably just humoring us.”
“No, Jaem, you didn’t see the way she looks at me. It was so much more condescending than she looked at anyone else.” You’re actually nice to the rest of the boys, giggling at their jokes, not mocking and teasing them. You’d even gone as far as trading conspiracy theories with Renjun, not once laughing at him cruelly.
“She looks at you the same as everybody else, Jen.” Jaemin sounds exasperated. “I think you’re just looking for an outlet, here. You’re seeing your own frustrations in her.”
Jeno’s quiet for a bit as he processes it. Jaemin’s probably right, but it’s easier to ignore it right now. Admitting that he’s wrong isn’t going to make him feel better. “She’s also like, strangely calm about everything. Like she was so skeptical and then she completely pulled a 180 on us. Doesn’t make sense.”
Jaemin shrugs and the motion of his chest moves Jeno’s head with it. “People process things differently. Also, she hasn’t seen anything that we have.”
He doesn’t respond to that.
Only three days pass and Jeno’s already managed to break something . The vase was kind of ugly, in his defense, but also, it was definitely expensive. He tries to say that he did her a favor but Jaemin smacks him on the back of the head and points out that it still belongs to you. With a roll of his eyes, Jeno sets off to find you.
Jeno doesn’t get a response when he calls your name, and you’re not in your bedroom when he checks. You’re not with Renjun and Donghyuck, either, and Jeno starts to mildly panic. Maybe you’d gone outside because you didn’t believe them and got eaten by zombies. Maybe the zombies broke in and they’re next.
He’s saved from descending into full blown panic when he hears a noise coming from the bathroom. There’s still no response when he calls your name, but he’s at least pretty sure that you’re not dead. Preoccupied with figuring out how to tell you that he broke your expensive (ugly) vase, he doesn’t bother knocking.
His mouth is open, words on the tip of his tongue, when he stops short. You’re crying, like full on sobbing, and Jeno definitely was not prepared to handle this.
Your forehead is pressed to the mirror, condensation forming on the glass and fogging your reflection. There’s quiet sobs leaving your mouth, your shoulders shaking with the force of them, and Jeno feels his heart drop to his stomach. His mouth feels dry and there are hot tears forming behind his eyes.
Jeno feels frozen, wanting to help but afraid to. He turns to leave but you spot him and he stiffens, caught. You freeze for a moment before wiping your eyes with the back of your hands and sniffing almost violently in a frantic attempt to compose yourself. You smile but it’s lopsided and looks more like a grimace.
“Are you alright?” You’re not, it’s obvious that you’re not, but he finds himself asking anyways because he just doesn’t know what to say.
You nod but the movement’s jerky. “Yeah. Yeah! No, I’m fine. Are you?” The first word comes out as a croak and you clear your throat before trying again.
A tear slips down your right eye and you wipe at it quickly, almost angrily, as if it’s betraying you by showing how sad you are. Jeno raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s fine if you’re not.”
Another tear slips out as you try to smile, followed by another, until there’s too many for you to try to wipe away. You try to nod but give up halfway through and end up shaking your head, breaking down completely. Jeno moves forward on instinct, arms held open, and you cling to him as if he’s your lifeline.
“I’m scared.” You sob, the words broken and small. “I’m so, so scared.”
Jeno feels so unbelievably guilty as he holds your shaking figure, feeling his shirt become damp with your tears. The sound of your sobs drill holes into his heart. He feels sick as he thinks about how quick to hate you he was, how quick he was to talk shit about you when he didn’t know anything about you.
He rubs your back soothingly, dropping his face down until your hair tickles his nose. There are tears pricking the back of his eyes, too, and he wills them not to fall.
There’s a voice in the back of his head that sounds vaguely like Jaemin’s telling him that the bathroom is not the best place to have a breakdown. Jeno keeps his arms around you as he steps back, pulling you with him and successfully managing to usher you into your room. He lets go of you when he sits down, fully expecting you to sit down next to him. Nothing prepares him for you to climb into his lap and curl up against him. He pats your back gently and bounces his knee anxiously. All he can do is whisper that it’s going to be alright, that he’s got you. The words taste bitter on his tongue because he knows they’re probably lies.
You wear out eventually, the full body sobs simmering down to occasional hiccups. Your breathing evens out eventually, your head heavy against his chest. Jeno peaks down at you and finds your eyes closed.
He carefully moves you onto the bed, trying his damn hardest not to wake you up. You make a noise just as he’s pulling the covers over you and he freezes, relaxing when you don’t move again. Jeno finds himself lingering even though there’s no reason for him to be there anymore, not when you’re asleep. But he finds himself mesmerised by how peaceful and innocent you look right now. There are tear tracks on your cheek and he wipes at them with his thumb, hesitating for only a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
A hand reaches out to him just as he’s leaving, grazing the side of his leg. He turns to see you looking at him with bleary eyes, a pout on your face. Panic runs through him and he prays that you didn’t feel the kiss. He doesn’t even know why he did it.
“Stay?” It’s just one word, and he’s not even sure if it’s a question or a command, but he finds himself walking back to the bed. His plan is to sit on the edge and maybe let you hold his hand, but you frown at him before pushing him to lay down. You only seem to hesitate for a moment before laying back down next to him, tugging one of his arms around you. “Cuddle me.”
Jeno huffs a laugh at your bossiness, complying with you because hey, you’ve been crying and yeah, it’s nice to hold someone. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with his face pressed against the nape of your neck, but that’s just what happens.
He sure as hell doesn’t mean to make it a habit, but again, that’s just what happens. Jeno finds himself in your bed every night for the next week, his arms wrapped tightly around you, your body pressed tightly against his. It’s weird for sure, considering he’s A) never shared a bed with a girl before and B) neither of you discuss it, even though it’s definitely supposed to be weird to share a bed with a stranger.
You don’t question it when Jeno shows up the next night, sitting hesitantly on the edge of your bed as he asks if you’re feeling better. He wonders if you can see through the thinly veiled excuse for him to hopefully hold you in his arms again. Sure, he definitely could have asked you when he saw you in the morning, or during lunch, or at any other part of the day. So sue him, he feels a little protective of you now, and it feels nice to share a bed with someone.
“Yeah, sorry you had to see that.” You try to laugh it off but it sounds hollow. “I just kinda thought you were joking around, y’know? But then my parents really didn’t come home, and the phone lines really aren’t back up, and it kinda just hit me at once. Um.” You laugh again but it sounds broken and your eyes are looking a little glassy. Jeno offers you a hug and you don’t hesitate before crawling into his arms, burying your head in his chest before pushing him to lay down.
And he doesn’t question it when you tug him into your room the next night, an extra pair of clothes sitting on the desk. A feeling of satisfaction rises up in his chest that you chose him over the other three boys, but he tries to tamp it down.
Even Renjun didn’t say anything when he saw them one night, though he definitely gave Jeno a ‘what the fuck’ type of look. It’s the same look that all of the boys give him when they’re all huddled around the TV watching some movie from the 90s that you’d found the disk for.
Hyuck, Renjun, and Jaemin are sprawled out on the couch. Donghyuck puts his head on Renjun’s lap and the elder attempts to choke him, laughing and stroking his hair when all Hyuck does is fake a moan. You and Jeno are curled together on the reclining chair, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. Jaemin had shot Jeno a curious glance earlier but didn’t say anything.
Jeno’s battling the urge to press another kiss to your forehead- this time when you’re wide awake and have the chance of feeling it- when Jaemin saves him. He’s off the couch- probably bored with the movie- and looking through one of the windows.
“Hey, you’ve got a pretty big backyard.” Jaemin points out, turning to call it over your shoulder. You hum. “What’s that big building out there?”
Your face is smashed into Jeno’s chest and he feels the vibrations when you speak. The words are muffled and barely comprehensible even to him, who’s the closest in proximity to you.
“What?”
“She said it’s a greenhouse.” Jeno responds. Jaemin raises his eyebrows again- seriously, twice in one day is too much- and Jeno shrugs in response.
Renjun pipes up this time. “You didn’t want to tell us earlier?”
You actually lift your head this time. “No? It’s not that interesting?”
Renjun stares at you like you’re dumb. Jeno’s been on the receiving end of it many times. “You’re right. It’s not like it’s a source of food or anything. Y’know, the thing that we’re probably gonna run out of soon. That thing that we kind of need to live?”
Your eyes widen in realization.
#nct#nct dream#nct fic#nct dream fic#jeno fic#jaemin fic#renjun fic#donghyuck fic#haechan fic#nct angst#nct dream angst#00 line#x reader#i lied im posting it early
560 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Danger in Duality | 08
COLLEGE! AU | ASSASSIN! AU | ANGST | SMUT | COMEDY | 10k
BTS X Reader
CW: Graphic depictions of violence and sexually explicit content
“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students.”
__________________________________________________
“Well, that was depressing,” Hoseok said after the call dropped.
Defeat washed over the room.
“What are the chances?” Namjoon asked. His fingers clasped in front of his face, expression etched in deep thought, “20 miles? That’s nothing.”
“Didn’t Squad 8 have something similar happen to them a few years ago, but with a different group?” Taehyung asked.
“Yeah but it was just a small rivalry, and Squad 8 handled it in a couple weeks. Anti or whoever keeps targeting The Academy’s squads...and they’re so close,” he said, “The Academy is the biggest organization of it’s kind in the world, so my guess is that Anti set up camp so close to make some sort of territory war.”
“But why do we have to be the ones caught in the middle?” Jimin said.
“Right, we literally could have been stationed anywhere,” you huffed.
“Well, since we’re the best squad, and Grandpa kind of prioritises us, he wanted us closer to home...like regional guards I guess,” Taehyung said.
“So essentially...nepotism came back to bite us in the ass,” you said.
“It wasn’t nepotism!” Namjoon began to fight, but he shared a look with Taehyung and didn’t continue.
“Well then why not start by targeting us if we’re the closest?” Hoseok asked.
“Maybe they were using the other squads as practice before they got to us,” Namjoon shrugged, “or maybe it was just a warning.”
Silence.
“I can’t do this right now,” Seokjin sighed, carding a hand through his hair as he walked to his room, “The mission is tomorrow and I gotta prepare.”
“Hey! Are you still watching the game with us tonight?” Hoseok called after him.
“Maybe,” he shut the door behind him.
“I’m gonna head out too,” you said.
“Woah, I thought you wanted to watch it!” Hoseok whined.
“Sorry, Seokjin’s right though. I need to prepare for tomorrow and I still have a shit ton of homework.”
“I’ll pass too,” Jungkook said as he and Taehyung followed you to the door.
“Oh not you too!” Hoseok threw his arms up.
“You know I don’t even like basketball,” Jungkook said, “Damn, Seokjin still has my calculator.”
Jungkook jogged to the oldest’s room and flung open the door.
Seokjin stood in nothing but boxers in the middle of the room. He was quick to cover himself as he let the profanity fly.
“Fuck are you doing?! Ever heard of knocking, you little shit?! Get out!”
He pushed Jungkook to the door, but the youngest pushed back effortlessly as he made his way to the calculator on the desk.
“Oops. Forgot this.” he said, “And you know how it works. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in, you would have locked it.”
“That’s not how this works! It’s my room!”
“What are you doing anyway?”
“Changing- you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Move!” he shoved the youngest out of the room and locked the door.
“Yeah, so...I’m gonna go,” you said. You spared a glance back at Yoongi, who’s eyes followed you as you walked out of the apartment.
Jungkook and Taehyung were close behind. The sun had almost fully set, and it stretched over the horizon in a spray of oranges and reds. You neared the fork in the road, an indication to go your separate ways.
“Hey,” Jungkook said, “When the hell can I get that SIG-Sauer P228 off your hands?”
You scoffed, “I still can’t believe it's not too basic for you. That’s, like, a 3rd week of training level pistol.”
“No, what? Shut up! What do you even know?”
“I know that it’s basic.”
“Basic?! You’ve got the special limited holiday edition! It’s got the gold two-tone finish and the indented grip. Oh fuck and the light-weight. Ugh-,” he shook his head as he looked up at the sky, smiling. “And you promised!”
“You know he’s not gonna let it go now,” Taehyung warned.
“Okay, whatever fine, just come by and get it.”
Jungkook turned and you stuck your hand out, “What?”
“Woah, not right now.”
“Not now?! Then when?!” his arms flapped at his side, making him look like a tantrum-throwing child.
You shrugged and walked on, “Not now.”
He called after you, each word followed by a curse. It was true, you had promised that you would give him the gun soon. You rarely used it and when you told him you had it collecting dust in the back of your closet he all but ripped your head off, going on about how you didn’t respect the craft and how he’d save it from the likes of you (whatever the hell that meant). There was just no way you could deal with the company now, and the sooner you were back to your room the better.
As you neared your apartment, you saw a familiar car in the parking lot. The warning was all you needed to mentally prepare yourself for your roommate.
Turning your key in the lock, you pushed inside. Luna sat on the sofa, focused on her laptop.
“Hey!” she chirped, “How was your day?”
“Hey,” you nodded, “Okay, just stressful as usual.”
“Aww I’m sorry to hear that. Wanna come study with me?” she asked, patting the spot next to her.
You looked down the hall. The sanctuary of your room was just so close.
“Ah, damn. I’m just really tired, I don’t think I can focus right now.”
“Oh...I see,” she said in a low voice. The disappointment was clear, “It’s just that we never really see each other or hang out. We live together but I don’t really feel like I know you.”
And you never really will, you thought.
“I know,” you played with your fingers, “Tonight's just not good for me. But we can hang out soon. I promise. I’ll...try and make time for it.”
“Really? Okay! Sounds good,” she smiled, “Oh, and I already made dinner, there’s some left on the stove if you get hungry.”
With a thanks you went to your room, shut the door, and threw yourself on the bed. The blank ceiling didn’t help to clear your mind, just made it easier for your thoughts to race out of control.
It was all just so much.
Being hunted.
Being on top of the food chain, you never knew what it was like to be the prey. There was nothing good about feeling so exposed, especially when their den was supposedly 20 or so miles away. Why did it have to be so close? You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched even within the confines of your mind and home. The news was messing with you.
Tomorrow’s mission.
It would be easy, but you hadn’t been on a unit mission in a while, and there was always more pressure when the whole squad wasn’t present. It would only be three of you, and only two would even enter the scene at all. Shouldn’t they have mixed up the skill-set and gotten someone else other than him? Hoseok would have been great on a stealth mission like this. And why did it have to be Yoongi of all people?
Yoongi.
The confusion you felt throughout the day came rushing back again. You couldn’t understand the reason behind his thought process. He was always so hard to read and today was no different. He never seemed like the casual ‘come over and let’s just chill’ type. He always needed his space, and given your past relationship you were always more than willing to give that to him. But with your new arrangements, having him want to see you beyond lust muddied the waters. Yes, you were friends. As strange as you liked to show it, you had been so for years. But never had you made an effort to spend time alone unless it was for work. Something about it felt wrong- even more so than the hookups. It felt like a new boundary was being crossed, one that was even scarier than the first.
But god how you wanted him.
He looked oddly beautiful watching the film earlier. Seeing him in gruesome violence for years, the delicate nature of the scene was enough to take you aback. There was just something about his gentleness....
You caught yourself. The corners of your lips shifted up without approval and you wiped it clean.
No. He only wanted this because you’re the only option. It was a safe investment- not because he felt anything else. And neither did you. Nope. You couldn’t. It was against the rules.
You slapped your hand against the bed, and pushed yourself towards the bathroom for a shower. As the water ran, you stripped down in front of the mirror. Your naked body was littered with nearly invisible scratches and bruises- the norm considering your routine. You couldn’t recall the last time you saw your skin clear of any marks.
Your phone buzzed against the counter top, a sign of a text message.
Picking it up, you noticed the speed of your heart change.
-------------------
Yoongi: You get home okay?
--------------------
You rolled your eyes. As if you couldn’t handle making your way home “okay”.
---------------------
You: No
Yoongi: ???
You: Some guys told me they’d give me candy if I got in their van so 💁
idk where we’re goin tho.
just cruisin rn.
Yoongi: Stop
You: Lmaooo take a joke
Yoongi: Today was fun
--------------------
The butterflies fluttered in your stomach a bit.
---------------------------
You: Yeah great movie choice btw
Yoongi:🙄 wyd rn?
You: About to get in the shower
---------------------------
You waited for his response, but after a minute you sat the phone back down and walked towards the tub. You heard another buzz and doubled back to check.
--------------------------
Yoongi: Send me a picture
--------------------------
You stared at your screen, rereading the words to make sure you weren’t mistaken.
-----------------------
You: Of…?
Yoongi: You dumbass
Before your shower
You: so nudes
Yoongi: Yeah
I wanna see you…
But you don’t have to
------------------------
You mulled over an answer. There was something about the idea of teasing him from afar that made your stomach knot with desire. You crossed your legs tighter. He had all day during the movie to “see you”. Why choose when you’re back home and unable to touch you to ask?
You positioned yourself in front of the mirror, trying to find the best angle. Sure you had taken pictures of yourself for yourself, but never with the intention of anyone else ever seeing them.
You twisted your body to see the curves in the reflection, a hand over your head for a better view of your bare chest. Though this was new, you weren’t stupid to the rules- never show your face. With the camera placed to block everything from the chin up, you heard the shutter as you posed.
Click.
You switched angles, leaning forward with your boobs pushed together.
Click.
You sat on the counter, and turned to get a view of your perched ass in the reflection.
Click.
You went back to check them, and you couldn’t help the satisfaction. These were hot. So hot you nearly turned yourself on.
Lucky bastard, you thought
After selecting the images, your finger hovered over the send button. With a deep breath, you bit the bullet and pressed it. Your anxiety wouldn’t allow you to wait for his response, so you put your phone down and hopped into the shower. You would see his reaction when you got out.
_________________
Yoongi hadn’t left his spot on the couch since you left. He spared glimpses at his phone, waiting for you to respond. Every moment that he got nothing, he cursed himself. He was being too thirsty and freaked you out. No way you would agree to this. He didn’t know what made him type out something so blatantly horny, he was embarrassed. Maybe he should apologize. Way to push his luck and make it awkward.
He was just so out of his mind after the assignment, he could barely think straight. He needed a distraction, anything to occupy his mind and not send him down the rabbit hole that was his unchecked fury. It just made no sense.
There was finally a vibration on his lap, and he carefully looked down to his notifications.
-------------------------
[3 attachments]
_______: Delete them from our messages after.
I expect you to kiss the ground I walk on after these. You’re welcome.
------------------------
He opened the message and caught a glimpse of the pictures. He sucked in a quick breath and threw his phone down.
He looked around the room. The others weren’t paying him any mind. Yoongi slowly picked the phone back up and took in the pictures in all their glory.
His breathing went shallow as he scrolled and zoomed on the screen. They weren’t just any crude pictures- there was an art to it that made him unable to look away. The curves of your body in the faint glow of the bathroom was delicious. Your body. God, your body. The longer he stared, he found something else to marvel over. He was glad he couldn’t see your face, because the thought of a smirk on your lips was enough to make his imagination run wild. He realized his mouth was hanging open and hurried to fix it. His pants were suddenly tighter, and he shifted to hide the sudden erection that was painfully fighting for his attention.
-------------------------
Yoongi: goddamn.
-------------------------
It sounded stupid, he knew that. But was there a right way to respond to something like that? No words or emojis would suffice. He was borderline salivating.
She told him to delete them after. Right. He still had to do that.
As Yoongi’s finger floated over the button, he found the deed harder to carry out than expected. The thought of sending them to the trash to never be seen again didn’t sit right with him.
Instead he found himself saving them to his Cloud app. They would be safe there, hidden amongst his thousands of other photos and documents. You had only said to delete them from your messages to not leave a trace, so this was still technically okay. He couldn’t think about the morality of it for too long or otherwise his conscience might disagree.
He quickly deleted the pictures from your texts and closed his eyes.
“You alright over there?” Seokjin asked, “You’ve been quiet since the mission assignment. But not, like, normal quiet.”
“Yeah, just have a headache,” Yoongi lied, carefully adjusting his throbbing dick in his pants.
“Hey the game’s starting!” Hoseok called, and the boys turned their attention to the TV.
While the announcer went on the normal spiel, Yoongi’s mind couldn’t escape the photos. For minutes he fought the urge to check his phone, but the growing boner had other plans. One more peek wouldn’t hurt, he argued.
He went to his Cloud, and found the 3 images resting at the top. He clicked them one by one, eyes caressing every pixel. His dick fought even harder against his underwear, begging for his assistance.
The fever of the game came to a peak when all the boys erupted in cheers. Yoongi jumped in his seat, seeing the others yell as the players ran across the screen.
It was nearing impossible to think. Yoongi suddenly stood up from the couch. He positioned his phone before the tent in his pants as he walked out of the living room.
“Where you goin? It’s just getting good!” Jimin called.
Yoongi hurried to his bathroom and opened the pictures again. He couldn’t undo his pants fast enough, and when he finally sprang free and wrapped his fingers around his cock he let out a shuttered breath. He stroked himself as he took in the pictures and everything they had to offer. Seeing the space between your thick thighs made precum dribble to his knuckles. He wanted to take you in the shower and feel you for real. He stroked himself faster.
The way you squeezed one of your breasts in your hands caused him to hold in a moan. The final picture was his favorite. The arch of your back as it led to your ass made his heart beat violently. He envisioned the time he fucked you from the back. The view of it bouncing back on him as you were pressed against the telescope made his eyes flutter close as he felt himself unwinding. He almost missed the toilet paper as he came moments later.
Yoongi took a deep breath and looked at his reflection. He was flushed and drained. It took every ounce of energy and self-respect to fix himself and return to the living room.
“Took you long enough, you missed the best free-throw of the season,” Namjoon said through a mouthful of pizza.
Yoongi flopped back on the sofa next to Hoseok. He felt dirty, like they could all smell his shame and fresh orgasm.
“Finally a commercial. Their entire defense needs to be benched...dude, are you looking at porn while I’m sitting right here?!” Hoseok screeched.
“What-?” Out of habit, Yoongi had gone to look at his phone again. But upon unlocking it, the image of your ass covered the entire screen.
Yoongi scrambled to close the app, but his fingers couldn’t work fast enough. In his frenzy he fumbled and dropped the phone onto the cushions.
“Hey, don’t be stingy,” Hoseok said, swooping in and kicking the phone off the sofa before Yoongi could grab it. He leaped away to put distance between them, eyes going wide, “Damn. This isn’t porn. The shitty quality and angle is pointing to personal nudes.”
Yoongi leaped off the sofa and went towards Hoseok.
“Let me be the judge of that,” Jimin said. Hoseok threw the phone across the room, and he plucked it from the air over Yoongi’s head.
Jimin whistled, “Shit...now this is how you take nudes.”
“Jimin. I’m not fucking playing with you give it b-”
“Wait, there’s more!” he cackled, scrolling through the others. He didn’t even look at Yoongi as he evaded him, jumping over the sofa and coffee table. He paused, eyes going wide as he swallowed. “Goddamn. She’s fine. What did you do to deserve nudes like this? Hey, look at this.”
Jimin jumped over to where Seokjin and Namjoon were standing. The oldest shifted to get a better look and Namjoon took his glasses off.
“Sheesh…” Seokjin’s mouth felt suddenly dry, “No wonder why you weren’t watching the game!”
Namjoon licked his lips, “Who’s even sending you these?”
Yoongi stormed over, but the leader took an instinctive step back, “Don’t fucking worry about it. Namjoon, give it back.”
Namjoon looked at the photo and then back at Yoongi, forehead creased with questions. Jimin snatched the phone from his hands.
“Yoongi got a girlfwend?” he asked in a baby voice.
“Give. It. Back.”
He didn’t dare go to Jimin again, he knew he’d only pass it to Hoseok.
“I mean he didn’t say no,” Seokjin added.
“Aww, why so bashful?” Hoseok doubled over in laughter.
Yoongi stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched by his side. He was nearly shaking with anger, and he met eyes with Namjoon who was the only one not howling like an idiot.
“Jimin, chill out. Hand him the phone back. The game is back on,” Namjoon said.
“Fuck the game, this is the best thing to happen all day!”
“Give it back or I’ll hang your entrails from the ceiling fan. Every single one of you," Yoongi seethed.
“Oh, be realistic. You can’t kill all of us,” he rolled his eyes.
Yoongi reached into the drawer under the coffee table and pulled out a trailing point combat knife.
“I’ll start with you,”
Jimin squinted, “Bullshit.”
Without hesitation, he threw the blade and made it land squarely in the opposite wall. Jimin touched his ear, and then looked down at his hand to see specks of blood from where Yoongi had clipped him.
Jimin’s shoulders dropped and after a moment of consideration he tossed the phone over.
“Learn to take a joke, asshole.”
Yoongi’s cheeks burned red, and the others cleared the way as he stomped back to his room and slammed the door.
____________________
You woke up when your head hit the car window.
“Shit,” you breathed, holding the sore spot in your groggy haze.
“Could you hit any more potholes, Jin? Fuck…” Yoongi cursed, sleep coating his voice.
“Wow, finally some company,” Seokjin said, “You’re acting like I made the damn roads, stop complaining.”
The three of you had begun your journey a little over an hour ago. Trees whizzed by your windows, and metropolitan skylines were slowly replaced with endless meadows and forests.
“Just when I thought we’d seen every inch of this region,” you said, “we end up in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.”
Seokjin snorted, fiddling with the screen on his dashboard, “Heads up, we should be arriving in 5 minutes.”
You went to your weapons case and strapped a few knives and a glock to your belt. From the passenger seat, you looked in the rearview mirror back at Yoongi. His earlier words had been his only ones all day. Even when you had been picked up for the mission, he barely spared you more than a head nod. He sat in his seat, looking out the window at the passing greenery, unblinking.
You nudged Seokjin and tilted your head towards the man in the back.
Seokjin shrugged, ‘He’s been like that all day,’ he mouthed.
He didn’t look upset, but more pensive than anything. As if he was trapped in his thoughts without a way to escape.
“Alright we’re here,” Seokjin stopped the car on the side of a desolate road in the middle of the forest.
“Uh...where’s the cabin?” you asked.
“I forgot no one checks the mission coordinates anymore but me,” he sighed, “Well, this is as far as the road will let me go. My GPS is saying the cabin is about half a mile that way.”
He pointed through the thick trees at nothing,
“So you want us to...walk.”
“I know it’s not ideal, but it's not that far.”
The distance wasn’t your issue. From the look of the sky, the sun would be setting in a few minutes, and you would rather not walk through the woods in pitch blackness.
The three of you stepped out of the van. Seokjin grabbed a few drones from the trunk and after pressing some buttons, released them into the sky toward the cabin. He honestly hated the drones, but because the targets likely didn’t have a security system to be hacked, he had to survey the mission with what devices he had.
“I’ll be checking in,” he waved as you both began the hike, “You got this, piece of cake like always.”
The leaves crunched under your shoes as you walked in silence for a couple hundred meters. The darkness of night was beginning to catch up to you. You felt the animals scurry past your feet in their haste.
You turned to Yoongi, face overcasted by shadows.
“You okay?” you asked, “You’ve been quiet.”
He didn’t say anything, and you wondered if he would respond at all until he finally muttered.
“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind,” he looked straight ahead.
“Is it classes? The mission? It should be an easy one like Seokjin and Mr. Kim said,” you pried.
“I just can’t wait for the day to be over.”
You nodded, “I understand. I was wondering why they dispatched us for this mission, you know? I know that they sometimes like to test different combinations, but having two specialized combat positions for such a small call doesn’t make much sense to me.”
“I was wondering the same thing.”
“You know The Academy though, it’s probably just some sort of test.”
“Well then that’s pretty fucked up.”
You waited on him to elaborate, but the conversation drifted to another hush.
“Well...if you ever want to talk about it, just know I’m here if you feel like sharing.”
“‘kay.”
After a few minutes of painful silence, you both saw a light in the distance. You slowed down, taking in the neglected cabin. The wood was covered in moss, hanging together by a few bolts. It appeared to have been forgotten amongst the woods. You couldn’t imagine life inside.
“She’s a beauty, right?” you said, hidden in the shadows behind the trees, “Jin, we made it.”
“Great. I can see you both. Look up,” you glanced up at the night sky, and a drone came to hover over your heads.
Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “So there’s three we need to take out. You sure they’re in there?”
“I don’t see anyone, but the lights are on. In the call, Mr. Kim said that they hadn’t left in a few days. From the notes, they just went in with a big crate and haven’t even gone outside since.”
A shadow suddenly went past the window, so quick it was almost unnoticeable.
“I saw someone,” he said.
You checked the weapons on your belt, “You ready?”
He nodded, “Make it clean, make it quick. Let’s go.”
You stalked towards the cabin, mere silhouettes in the dark.
“That window looks easy to open-” you whispered, but Yoongi was already making his way to the back door. You stopped, confused by his overly eager choice, but rushed to catch up. When you approached the door, Yoongi reared back and kicked the flimsy wood in. It burst open loudly, and you both charged into what appeared to be the kitchen. One of the drones flew inside. A man stood at the stove, bread in his hand as he turned to you both.
“Now, wait what the f-”
You recognized his face from the photos. Yoongi began to move towards him, but you were already in motion. With a few quick strides you closed the distance. You took the blade from your belt and made a fluid slash across the throat. It was seamless with no splatters- an angle you had worked to master for some time now. His body slumped down, joining the shadows casted on the wooden floor.
Yoongi looked down at the body, “I had it, you know.”
“Didn’t know you had claimed him, I was just trying to get it done. I’ll let you take the next one,” you said carefully.
He took in the nearly empty interior. No one else was in sight, and it was quieter than expected. You heard some faint motion close by, though it was hard to pinpoint.
You both slowly rounded the corner to see a door with steps leading downwards.
“Pat, hurry the hell up! We’re gonna start without you!” a voice called from the basement. Soon after came the sound of whimpers and muffled screams.
Footsteps led up towards you as someone climbed the stairs.
“God dammit, every time. Get down here!” said a man with a buzz cut. He froze when he saw you at the top of the stairs. Before he could react, Yoongi planted a foot in his chest, making the man fall and tumble down the stairs.
You rushed down, stepping over his groaning body at the base of the steps.
“Why wouldn’t you just take him out…then?” you began to ask your squad mate. Your hand was on your belt, ready to take out the man at the bottom of the stairs when you turned to see the rest of the basement instead. You felt your blood run cold at the sight before you.
In the basement was the 3rd target, a ceremonial mask covering his eyes. He was fiddling with the restraints of a woman sitting naked on the floor. They sat in the middle of a circle painted by what you had assumed to be blood.
“What the fuck?!” the masked man blurted. He jumped up, running towards a shotgun in the corner of the room. Before he could reach it you threw one of your knives. It landed in his hand, pinning him to the wall.
Yoongi stood by the steps, immobile with wide eyes. You followed his gaze to the woman. Her eyes had been covered with a scarf and mouth gagged with a rag. She cried, balling up on the floor to hide from the new unseen horrors she heard. On her wrist, a red circle glistened under the lights.
“Seokjin...the targets have a victim here,” you said tightly.
“What?!” the drone came down the stairs and paused next to you, “Oh god. The crate. She was here this whole time.”
“What the fuck do we do?!”
“I’ll call the police.”
“Police?! This can’t be a job for the Cleanup Crew?!”
“I’m already dispatching the cops. This wasn’t a part of the plan but they’ll take care of her. Just finish the job and get the hell out of there!”
Yoongi’s breathing was shallow. His legs shook under him as if they would give out at any minute. His vision never broke from the woman, eyes zeroed in with a laser focus.
Behind him there was a quick motion. The man at the stairs had picked up an axe, ready to swing at your squad mate. Yoongi didn’t move, unaware of his surroundings.
“Yoongi, watch out!” Seokjin warned.
You reached for the gun in your belt and fired two shots to the man’s forehead.
The shots snapped Yoongi out of his haze. He jumped, and turned to see the body tumble behind him. He looked at you in awe.
“I…” he tried, lost for words.
The final man had pulled the knife from his hand and slumped against the wall.
“Who are you?! W-who sent you?!” his voice shook.
Yoongi faced him slowly, jaw taut and far away. He advanced across the floor, closing the distance between them as the masked man screamed to spare his life.
Yoongi crouched down, eye level with him. He pulled the mask away, exposing a thin face and pleading eyes. Yoongi went for the long knife at his side.
“Please. Please, I’m begging you…”
Yoongi plunged the knife into the target’s chest. It went deep, piercing his heart. The man’s eyes went out of focus as life left him. Yoongi pulled the stained knife out, but didn’t place it back in his belt. He lurched the weapon forward again and again, stabbing so many times you lost count. He grunted with every dig long after the man had stilled. Crimson slowly spread across the man’s white shirt.
“Woah, stop!” you screamed. You grabbed his arm and pushed him back, “What the hell are you doing? It’s over!”
Yoongi’s face twisted in pain. He was shaking, looking at the body infront of him with a sense of stunning realization. Time caught up to him and the room realigned in his vision. He closed his eyes to collect himself.
He dropped the knife to grab his head.
The woman on the floor continued to cry, hyperventilating as she tried to force words through the gag. You moved over to her and she flinched. She looked to be in her late 20s- not much older than you if you had to guess. You racked your brain for a solution- you couldn’t take off her blindfold because then she would see your faces. If the cops were coming, you didn’t want to involve her with the repercussions of that, especially when The Academy would be involved. Though at the same time, you didn’t want to leave her stranded and tied up in the house with three dead bodies.
“Um, you guys, the police are here. They just pulled up about 100 meters behind me and are walking to the cabin now,” Seokjin said, “Get out while you can.”
“Shit,” you breathed. You slowly went to grab the rag from the woman’s mouth, and she craned away, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Please get me out of here. Please...” she cried.
“Okay, we will! They can’t hurt you anymore. The police are coming. Just let me untie you first,” you went to undo the rope, but paused, “But when I do I need you to stay calm and leave your blindfold on.”
“L-leave it on?” she asked, head whipping from side to side in her confusion.
“Trust me. If you can’t do that, I can’t untie you.”
“Okay,” she said, weakly.
With one glide of your knife she was free. She touched at the mark at her arm and her face contorted in agony at the burn. You could only imagine her suffering those few days.
“We gotta go!” you called to Yoongi, helping the young woman to her feet, “Now!”
Yoongi eventually pushed himself off the floor with unstable legs. He reached for a blanket hanging from the back of a chair, and handed it to you. You wrapped it around her as you guided her quickly up the stairs and past the men on the floor.
“Wh-who are you? Oh, god. Where are we going?” she struggled to hold herself up, and you and Yoongi supported most of her weight as you walked through the cabin.
“We’re just going outside,” you finally made it to the front porch, and she flinched when she was met with the night chill. You sat her down. Two drones glided outside and into the trees.
“So what now?” Yoongi whispered uneasily, “Do we just leave her here?”
“He said they’re on their way. She-” in the dark you heard rustling and voices. They weren’t too close, but earshot for you was close enough. You bent to her level, “Hey, the police are almost here. We’re gonna leave. Just...don’t uncover your eyes until we do.”
“Wait, no where am I? Don’t leave,” she pleaded.
“We’re just on the porch. We have to. I’m sorry.”
She moved her head to follow your voices, “Thank you. Thank you so much-”
“I see it!” called an officer in the distance.
With a final rub to her shoulder, you and Yoongi jumped off the porch and bolted into the dark forest. Looking back, you saw a group of officers run to the porch to assess her. She had taken off her blindfold and was looking around in a daze.
More officers were coming, and you both tried to run in silence while not being seen by their flashlights. You could barely see your hand in front of your face, the moon above your only guide. You ran hard, trying to not bump into trees while also checking the constellations above for the right directions.
Suddenly a flashlight crossed your vision, and Yoongi yanked you behind a tree.
You worked to catch your breath and listened for the officers to pass.
“Are we going the right way?” you whispered to him. He didn’t answer, instead looking at you with the same spacey, glazed stare from earlier, “What? And what the hell was that about back there anyway?”
“You saved my life…” he responded, his voice dreamy. His eyebrows joined together, relaying a focus that he didn’t seem to have. He seemed far away, but appeared to truly see you for the first time all night.
“Yeah, but Yoongi that wasn’t the question.”
Using his grip on your arm, he pulled you into him. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy, hard kiss. His hand went to tangle in your hair, knuckles meeting the root. You fought to understand in your haze. He grabbed your waist and tugged your body closer. You could feel the metal of the knives on his belt at your stomach, and it snapped you back.
You pushed his hand down and moved your face away.
“Yoongi, wh-”
Just then, there was a whiz above your heads as a drone flew above and past you. Both of you watched as it disappeared in the direction of Seokjin’s car. You met eyes again, but this time his expression mirrored the panic you felt.
“Oh no...” he muttered.
You didn’t want to think too much, only make it back to the car. If you really assessed the situation in your head, you knew you’d crumble.
You burst out running again, following the drone all the way until you saw the road. It was lit with shining police lights, and you finally saw the van hidden in the line of trees far ahead. When you reached it, you yanked open the door and threw yourselves inside.
“Finally!” Seokjin put the car in drive and whipped the wheel back out onto the road. As he fiddled with the navigation, you watched for any differences in his behavior. He sighed, “That was not supposed to happen.”
“What?” you blurted.
“What? The girl! Was she okay?”
“Okay? No. But the police got her,” you groaned, remembering, “The police. We called the fucking police to the sight of our mission.”
The Academy's Cleanup Crew always came after your missions to get rid of the mess and any evidence the squad may have left behind. The targets always simply “disappeared”. So calling the police to the scene before Cleanup could handle it was a nightmare in it’s own.
“I know, I know. It seems bad and it’s going to be a headache for me later but we had to do it for her. The Academy will probably have to make contact with local law enforcement again to cover our tracks, but they shouldn’t get her involved too much.”
“I really hope so,” you said.
“She...didn’t see you right?” he asked. You shook your head, “Good. That would have been a whole other problem.”
You used the rearview mirror to look at Yoongi. He was expressionless, and Seokjin followed your gaze, “Yoongi, you okay back there? Back at the mission…” you held your breath, “...it seemed like you lost focus. It was a bit of an...overkill, you think?”
You could tell Seokjin was trying to tread lightly. Though you wondered the same, as neither had seen such pointed aggression and bloodlust on a mission. Killing was always matter of fact- one and done. Never something to revel and bask in for too long.
“I just forgot where I was. That’s all,” was his reply.
The landscape turned into city, and Seokjin cursed when he saw his gas was low. He pulled into a dim gas station, and fiddled with a screen on a computer. It showed the woods and the cabin, and you watched as you stormed in after Yoongi kicked open the door.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just making sure the drones picked up and recorded the feed from the mission,” Seokjin responded, absentminded as he clicked around.
“You recorded it?” you tried to remain calm, but you heard your voice climb an octave, “I thought you just watched in the moment.”
“Yeah I do but I can’t catch everything.”
“So...do you record with all of the drones?”
He snorted, “Duh, I use them to track patterns for my logs, you know that. And with the police involved this time, this footage will be really useful to me and The Academy later.”
“Of course,” you said, “Jin, I really need to be back home soon, could we hurry.”
He gave you a look, “Uh, sure.”
Seokjin got out to pump the gas and you looked between him and the monitor.
“Hey! While you’re out, could you go inside the convenience store and get me some chips or something. I’m really hungry.”
He scoffed “Who do you think I am? No. Get it yourself.”
“Please! You’re already outside. The mission took a lot out of me. I didn’t eat all day,” you begged, “Please, I’ll love you forever.”
He took a deep breath, “What flavor?”
“Surprise me.”
He muttered to himself as he walked toward the store. You shot to action, pulling down any tabs to find the right button.
“Fuck, do you think he saw us?” Yoongi leaned on your seat to get a view of the screen.
“I doubt it. He’s acting too normal.”
“Try that tab!” he reached over you, pointing. Your unease mounted with every word and direction he gave you, “No, not that one! Okay, try that one. Shit, he’s paying at the counter, hurry-”
“Yoongi!” you exploded, “Shut the fuck up!”
“I’m trying to help-”
“You did enough, don’t you think?! Jesus, just...I’ve got it! Give me a break. For fuck’s sake!”
He sat back down. After exhausting your options, you found a video file with the day’s date on it. You hit ‘Delete all’ and suddenly the video on the screen disappeared. You checked the trash and found nothing. You went to any other obvious folders in the confusing layout of his computer and came up empty.
You looked up to see Seokjin walking towards the car and you quickly restarted the laptop.
He opened the door and dropped two bags into your lap, “I didn’t know if you liked sour cream and onion or honey butter so I got both. Hey, what happened to my computer?”
“Thanks! Oh, it just restarted out of nowhere. It said something about needing an update and then just turned off.”
“What? No…” when it rebooted he went to his files. He searched in silence for a bit, face etched in confusion, “No, no, no. The footage from today’s mission is gone!”
“Huh? How?” you feigned, going to check for yourself.
“How does that even happen? I was sure I had it saved.”
“Damn, I’m sorry,” you said, “Is that the only copy you have?”
“Unfortunately. This day couldn’t get any worse.”
He pulled off from the gas station and continued back to the city. The whole time, ranting about his shitty computer and The Academy needing to give him another version. You grunted in agreement, and Yoongi remained silent the rest of the ride home.
___________________
After dodging her for months, it finally happened.
She couldn’t be more ecstatic when you said you were free for the night, jumping into action immediately with ideas of how to spend your time. It wasn’t like you had much else to do.
A few days had passed since the last mission in the woods, and you’d like to think you were doing a good job avoiding your squad members. You didn’t have anything against all of them, but being in their presence after the night you had was the last thing you wanted. It was rare to not hang out at least every other day, but the time alone was needed. You saw them in class and went straight home after despite their questions and protests. More and more unread and unanswered texts were piling up in your phone. You knew everything was alright- if they really needed you, you would know. You knew them too well. According to the text previews, you picked up that they went to grab drinks at the bar about an hour ago. A part of you wished you had gone, but the other knew the break was needed. So on this break, you finally gave Luna a shot. Spending the entire evening with the girl you hadn’t had a conversation longer than 5 minutes with was beyond your comfort zone.
Luna’s idea was to bake dessert. Consequently, you spent the time shuffling around each other in the small kitchen as she led the whole operation. She did most of the work, and you handed her ingredients as she rattled off. You learned that she was an Environmental Sustainability major. You honestly felt bad. You had been living with the girl for months and didn’t even know what she was going to school for.
You also learned that she really wasn’t that bad. She talked a lot, but she seemed to mean well. She was an only child like you, was allergic to cats, and hated the head cell biology professor with a passion. When you were both sitting on the living room floor borderline wine drunk and stuffed on cake, she only got more animated.
“He’s the worst! I kid you not, he almost made me drop out!” she cried. Her face was getting redder with every sip.
“Was he just a hard grader?” you laughed.
“Yeah but he also had the nerve to lecture and not share the slides online! If you missed 3 classes you just failed. He would embarrass you if you missed an answer,“ she counted off with her fingers. “Just trash!”
“He had the coffee breath too, right?”
She pointed at you, “Yes! The coffee breath! How could I forget that?! He made me want to break his nose then my own. Wait, did you have him too? What class?”
You shook your head. It felt a bit heavier than usual in your tipsiness, “I didn’t, but my friend Jin did and he said the same thing.”
“Ah, he’s in that group of guys you always hang out with, right?” you nodded, “How did you guys become friends? I’ve always wondered that.”
You shifted“I don’t know, we’ve just known each other for a really long time. We went through our more formative years together and just never let the other go.”
It may have been the wine, but you felt a pang of regret for ignoring them. Maybe you were doing too much.
“How can you stand being around them all day? They’re all so...hot,” she said, “You’ve never dated any of them before? Hooked up with them? None of them?”
“N-no, nothing like that. I can’t.”
“You can't?” She raised her brow, smirking, “Ah, so you would if you could?”
“No! They’re like my best friends, I couldn’t do it.”
“Not even the angry looking one that slept over that time?”
You stiffened, “You know about that?”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t know it was a secret. I just saw him leaving one morning and assumed you were dating or something.”
“No, no, it’s not a secret or anything like that,” you rushed, “He had to sleep over because of the bad rain the night before. We’re just friends but its…”
“Complicated?” she asked.
“I mean...,” you laughed, “we’re just not really talking right now. But we’re still just friends.”
She tilted her head, looking at you with a wistful smile, “It's obvious they mean a lot to you.”
“They do. I couldn’t make it without them.”
Luna reached out to twirl a strand of hair between her fingers. Her gaze was suddenly intense as she held your eyes, “________, you’re a beautiful independent woman. You can make it without a man.”
Her stare was unnerving. The stoniness in her voice made a chill run up your back.
“I know, I’m just saying,” you turned your face away, laughing to hide your discomfort.
Your phone buzzed against your lap and you gave in to check. You wish you hadn’t.
------------------------
Yoongi: you home?
I know you see my messages
don’t ignore me
You: why what do you want?
Yoongi: I’m coming by
You: again, why?
Yoongi: I just want to talk
Pls
------------------------
You put your phone back down and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right? The friend I’ve been avoiding is coming over and it looks like I can’t put it off anymore. I’m sorry...”
Luna pouted, “Ah, I see. Well it’s okay. It was fun to hang out while we could.”
You nodded, “Yeah, this was pretty great.”
There was a knock on the door. It was sooner than you expected. You pushed yourself off from the floor and went to the door. Yoongi stood on the other side, hands in his pockets and looking unusually hesitant.
You didn’t spare eye contact or words as you waved him in.
“Hey!” Luna waved from her spot on the floor. She gave you a knowing look.
You cleared your throat, “Luna, this is Yoongi. You met him before.”
Yoongi gave a tight smile, “Hi.”
“Ah, right! I’ve seen you around before. I went to your apartment that one time, right?”
His eyebrows furrowed, “Um, yeah, that was my place.”
You led Yoongi back to your room and Luna called after him, “Nice to see you again!”
When you closed the door there was an expected silence. You turned to really look at him for the first time. His eyes were glassy and his entire face was tinted-red. You realized he reeked of alcohol.
You looked him up and down, “Jesus, are you drunk? Do the boys know you’re over here?”
He just shook his head as he walked to your bed. He didn’t usually drink much, and when he did he was always one to at least act the most sober.
He tossed himself across the mattress, putting an arm over his eyes. He tapped the space next to him, an invitation. You placed your phone on your desk and sat on the edge of the bed. You contemplated calling one of the boys to come get him, but you knew all the questions would be redirected to you.
“What did you want to talk about, Yoongi?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I just want to stay like this for a while.”
You stared at him, but he stayed still. You went to stand up, and his free hand went to wrap around your waist, pulling you to lay beside him.
You were pressed against his body and began to push away despite how good him and his sweater felt against you, “We shouldn’t do this. You said you wanted to talk, so what?”
“Please,” he breathed, “Just stay.”
You relaxed, giving in only for a bit. He held on tight, arm still firm around you. You suddenly became aware of the state the wine had left you in. You were doing a better job of holding yourself together than him, but having his arms around you mixed with your own looseness was a combo your subconscious was too eager to accept. His breathing was steady as your ear rested on his chest, and after a while you thought he had fallen asleep. The ceiling fan whooshed above you, and as you waited the hypnotic spin made you lose track of time.
His voice broke the hush of the room.
“I’m so sorry, ______.”
“You gotta be more specific.”
“I meant what I said. I forgot where I was.”
“Yoongi, I can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that’s never been us. You know that,” you gulped, “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” you repeated.
“I don’t. I went too far. I feel like...like I left myself,” he said in a low voice. Though you were unbearably close, he sounded so far away, “I swear I had no control for the first time ever. It was wrong. I know that. I couldn’t stop.”
“But...why?”
“I just lost sight of the mission. I put you in a bad place and you had to pick up the slack for my psychotic break, or whatever the hell that was, and I feel like shit for it. Hell, you had to save my life because I couldn’t fucking handle myself,” his voice broke as he desperately pushed the words out. “And the kiss,” he groaned. “I fucked up so bad. And you handled that too. It was a close call and it was all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. But I want to thank you for stopping me.”
It wasn’t lost on you that he didn’t really answer your question. In all of your years of knowing each other, you never knew him to be someone to lay his heart and regrets plain out on display for just anyone. Whether it was the alcohol or sheer pain that drove him to it, you didn’t know, but it was unsettling. You just wanted to know why. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that.”
“I deserved every bit of that and more. I didn’t hold up my end at all, I just made problems.”
“I meant what I said earlier too, you know.”
“What?”
Your arms went to wrap around his waist before you could stop yourself. He relaxed in your arms and you couldn’t let go.
“Back in the forest. I’m still here if you need to talk, you know. We’re friends after all, Yoongi. I just don’t want you to hold that shit in if you don’t have to,” you moved your head to look up at him.
A painful smile made its way to him.
Yoongi went to nuzzle his nose in your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed until he whined.
“I wanna stay like this forever.”
You went stiff, “Forever? You know we...can’t.”
“I can dream can’t I?”
He didn’t seem to get it. If in his dreams he saw you being this way forever, he was more far gone than you believed.
He looked you over again, “You don’t want this forever?”
There was such sadness in his glazed eyes, it would hurt you too to say what you should have said. Instead you stayed quiet.
“I know it's wrong, I know there are rules, but I like us this way.”
“Don’t…”
“Why?” it was his turn to ask, lips grazing your warm neck.
“You know why...we just can’t.”
“But you like to be with me like this too, right?”
You didn’t even have to ask what “like this” meant.
“I don’t think either of us are in the right head space to make that call.”
“Beyond the fucking. This is something we can do more. Hell, is it so wrong to want to hold you?”
“It-it just blurs the lines even more,” you stammered when his nose traced your collarbone.
“Screw the blurred lines. Screw The Academy. I like us like this, _____. And secretly, I think you do too.”
You felt yourself short-circuiting, “I think the lines are important because without them I can’t understand what this is.”
He stopped to search your face again, “Well what do you understand?”
His eyes were so deep. When you answered you were trapped in them, “That I like this more than I should.”
When the answer left you, there was a curse in your sober subconscious. Though seeing his face soften from the wounded mask he wore earlier almost made you forgive yourself. Almost.
It happened slowly, unlike the others. You watched each other, letting your words hang in the air before the other moved. You were the first to close the distance, Yoongi soon followed. When your lips met in the middle there was no rushed crash, no hurry driven by lust. He held your cheek in the most gentle way. Your lips pressed against his, and for the first time there was no fight for dominance. Your hand went to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer in your already tight position. He rolled himself over you, holding himself up with both hands on either side of your head. Yoongi looked you over for a second before dipping his lips back to yours.
You rolled over again, your knees on either side of his torso as you straddled him. You grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him again. His hands went to your back, skin burning under his fingertips. You went to grab at the bottom of your shirt, and he stopped you.
“You don’t have to, you know?” he said, eyes searching yours.
“But I want to.”
He moved his hand and you raised your huge t-shirt above your head and discarded it onto the floor.
The look he gave you was one of such unfiltered admiration it scared you. His gaze raked across your naked upper body.
“You’re so beautiful,” he proclaimed in such a way your face became hot.
He pulled you down to him again. His large hands traced up your thigh slowly, making you remember your revealing shorts. His touch lit a flame under your skin wherever he touched. Though it wasn’t entirely desire that you felt. This was different. Something that made your chest feel warm and butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach.
“Was that the front door?” he suddenly asked.
“No,” you quickly dismissed him, groaning when his lips went back to your neck. The growing wetness in your panties was a distraction, but you tried your best to listen through your labored breaths.
He sighed, the puff tickling the sensitive skin. He whispered, nearly soundless “Shit...I just like you so much.”
You froze.
You slowly pushed yourself up. Looking down at him, even through the alcohol he seemed to know he had crossed a line.
“You what?”
_________________
When Jungkook left the bar with the others, he was surprisingly sober. He had downed 3 beers and a tequila shot without an issue and was actually disappointed. Getting wasted would have been nice considering the trash week of classes he was having and not remembering the grade he just got on his last quiz would have been the cherry on top.
“What’s been going on with him anyways? You all noticed, right?” Hoseok asked, arm around Namjoon’s shoulder.
“How could we not? He barely said shit the whole night,” Jimin said, “How do you get shitfaced and then get up and leave? That’s just sad.”
“Did he even say where he was going?” Taehyung asked.
“No, but it's not like we have to worry about him handling himself.”
“I should check on him,” Namjoon said, “He’s been acting off for almost a week.”
“Check on _____ while you’re at it. She’s been off too.”
“You sure she’s not just finally tired of us? I wouldn’t blame her,” Seokjin said.
The others were making their way back home and Jungkook stopped to linger on the sidewalk. If he continued down this street and made a right, he’d be at your place, he noted. He suddenly remembered what you owed him.
“What?” Taehyung burped.
“You can go back, I’ll catch up later. ________’s still got my baby.”
“Whatever,” he gave a peace sign and ran to catch up to the rest.
As Jungkook walked under the dim street lights, he couldn’t help but wonder about you. After Yoongi left the bar, Seokjin had told them that the last mission was a rough one, partially because of Yoongi. This wasn’t new though, you had all seen your fair share of fucked up shit over the years. So it didn’t make sense for you to ignore everyone for days on end over it.
He looked at the texts he had sent you. None of them were opened.
-----------------------------
Jungkook: Stop ignoring me I’m coming over rn
U better be home
If not im breaking in 😜
-----------------------------
When he finally made it to your place, he pounded on the door. When it opened he readied to walk in, but he stopped when he saw the person on the other side.
“Hi?” Luna asked.
Jungkook forgot she lived there too, “‘Sup?”
“Oh, you’re _________’s friend, right?”
“Yeah, is she here?”
“Yeah, come in,” Luna stepped aside as Jungkook took his shoes off, leaving them beside a pair that was too big for either of the girls that lived there. He didn’t notice, “She might be a little busy though.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows joined in confusion. Like that actually mattered to him, “Uh, okay? Where is she?”
Luna pointed down the hall, “Back in her room.”
“Cool, thanks.”
Luna went back to her own room and Jungkook followed her directions down the dark hallway. He had to stop himself from salivating as he pictured what was soon to be his. He seized the handle of your door and thrust it forward.
“Ha! Can’t ignore me now, can you?”
He blinked a few times thinking something would change. In the time void the bedroom had become, everything stayed the same.
You were still mounting Yoongi.
Yoongi still held a handful of your ass.
Your bodies were still entangled in the sheets.
You were still topless.
The scene never changed.
But Jungkook wished it had.
Previous Next
_________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading like always! Feel free to lmk your thoughts 👀
#bts smut#bts angst#bts fanfiction#yoongi smut#did#the danger in duality#namjoon#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#bts x reader#bts au#kpop fanfic
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
All of My Wrongs - Chapter Four
Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC
Summary: As Aurora finds herself alone at Midsummers, she gravitates towards Topper. As the night goes on, she realizes that her feelings are all over the place. When some events unfold, she finds herself comforting a broken boy. She tried to talk some sense into her, while ignoring her own troubling feelings. In the end, she makes a decision that will effect her time here in the OBX.
Word Count: 2.1K
A/N I’m so proud of this chapter. I would love feedback on if you think this is moving too slow or too fast and what you like or hate about it. Please and thank you!
Get Added to this Series Taglist
Series Masterlist
________________________________________________
I walked back into the open yard of the venue. Topper was walking back from the front, looking distressed. Sarah wasn’t far ahead of him, walking quickly away from the boy. I frowned at his furrowed brows. He looked so distressed and it bothered me. I walked up to him, smiling a little bit. I asked him if he wanted to dance and he looked at me for a second before nodding. I gently grabbed his hand and walked out onto the grass.
The song was slow and sweet. I slipped my arms around his neck as he rested his on my hips. We swayed a little bit, moving in time with the music. I looked at him and his eyes looked at Sarah. For some reason, a lump formed in my throat. I convinced myself that it was because he deserved better than her. I convinced myself that I didn’t like the boy in front of me.
“If you want to go talk to her you should,” I said, trying to be supportive. I removed my arms from him and took a step back. He looked at me for a second and sighed.
“We got in an argument,” he muttered. “I don’t want to make it worse in front of all of these people.”
I nodded in response, but didn’t go back to him. I didn’t want to be that close to him right now. He followed me over to the drinks and I sipped a darker liquid from the glass. My face contorted as it burned down my throat. I knew sipping this wasn’t going to be pleasurable and downed the glass quickly. I coughed as the liquid glided down my esophagus. Topper grabbed the glass from me and told me to slow down.
I sighed as I looked around. Rafe was no where to be seen and I was no longer enjoying myself. I sat down on a wooden lawn chair, feeling warmth spread through my body. My head was a little fuzzy from the alcohol. I had never really drank much. I had gone to a couple of parties, but it’s been a while and my tolerance was pretty low. I looked at Topper and asked if he could drive me home.
The ride home was awkward. I was mad at Rafe for ditching me. I was mad for thinking that I would make friends tonight. I was mad that I was getting a ride home from Topper. I felt us hit a small bump in the road and my stomach churned. The alcohol swished around in my stomach. Between the glasses of wine and that last glass of whiskey, my stomach was read to release the poison within in.
“Topper, I need you to pull over,” I muttered. He looked at me like I was insane, yet he followed my commands. He pulled over to the side of the road and I opened my door, leaning out over the boulevard. I felt my stomach churning and all of the sudden I released all the liquid within my body. The contents of my stomach laid spilled out on the ground below me. I leaned back into the jeep and shut the door.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, looking at me. I wiped my mouth and leaned back against my chair. “Not much of a drinker?”
“No,” I said, no point of lying about it. I just wanted to be at home. He dropped me off at the front door, making sure I got into the house. I tried to opened the front door, but it was locked. I took my flower crown off and threw it on the ground. I turned back and looked at Topper. He parked his car and mutter for me to come with him. I apologized as he led me into his empty house. I followed him up the steps to his room and he grabbed me some clothes to change into. I thanked him, but he seemed in a rush to get back to Midsummers.
I changed after he left, my dress falling haphazardly against the floor. I left it there as I pulled on a pair of his sweatpants and one of his shirts. I rolled the waistband of the pants as I walked around the room. It was neat and organized. Everything was aligned perfectly, with not one thing out of place. The bookcase was filled with classics and the desk was meticulously lined with school supplies and SAT prep books. Two picture frames sat on the desk as well. One was a family portrait. They all looked so serious. The next one was of him and his friends. His arm was slung over Sarah’s shoulder and he looked genuinely happy. That feeling of jealously welled up in my stomach again. I set the photo down and yawned. I crawled into his bed and laid there for a minute. The sheets smelled like him and it made my heart speed up. I closed my eyes and nestled further into the blankets, thinking about how nice of a guy he actually was.
I awoke to the sound of his door opening. I could hear frantic mumbling and heavy breathing as he entered the room. I opened my eyes to see him. He was sweating and panting as if he was having an anxiety attack. He set a half drank bottle of beer on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. He covered his face with his hands and muttered something I could understand.
“What did I do?” he asked himself over and over. I slipped out of the sheets and moved to the edge of the bed. I sat next to him and tried to talk to him, but he didn’t even notice me. I frowned and moved in front of him, standing in between his legs. He looked up at me with the saddest expression I had ever seen. Impulsively, I moved my hand to caress his face. I wiped away some of his tears with my thumb. “I’m such an idiot.”
His breath reeked of alcohol, but that didn’t faze me. I asked him what had happened. I asked him to explain to me so I could understand. He just shook his head at me. He let a few more tears fall from his eyes.
“You’ll just hate me too. If I tell you, you’ll hate me,” he said. His voice was desperate. I held his face in my hands, making him look at me.
“I won’t judge you,” I said. I felt the need to be there for him. “What happened?”
I listened as he told me everything that had happened. He told me how Sarah had snuck out when he was going to tell her he loved her. He told me about the discussion he had with Sarah’s little sister about her cheating in the past. I listened as he told me that he went to the Hawks Nest and that when he got there he knew. He walked up and saw her with John B. That name meant nothing to me, but to him it meant everything now. I listened to how he reacted and how angry he was. He explained to me that it was the alcohol and that he didn’t mean anything he said to her. He paused and I knew that this would be where it got bad.
“I-I pushed him,” he said. “I didn’t think he would fall. The board was rotted out! I barely touched him… I never wanted to hurt him, it just happened.”
“Sarah must be pretty special to make you act like this...” I said, staring sadly at the broken boy in front of me. I wanted him to know that I was there for him. I didn’t approve of what had happened, but I wanted to be there for him. I sighed softly at my conflicted feelings. I looked him in the eyes and leaned over, wrapping my arms around him. His neck nestled into my shoulder.
“I love her,” he said. I felt a pain in my chest as those words left his mouth. To him, this was love. He was used to changing himself for others. But real love, it doesn’t require sacrificing your humanity for theirs. “I didn’t mean to push him. I didn’t think he’d fall.”
“This isn’t healthy,” I said calmly. “Would you have normally done this?”
“No,” he said. He was confident that he wouldn’t do this normally. Something about Sarah drove him crazy and I knew what. His whole life, his parents had presented him with this image of perfection. It included riches and yacht clubs, good jobs and a huge house. It included Sarah Cameron as his wife and nothing less than the kook princess. He didn’t even realize that the reason he couldn’t let go of her was because that would mean shattering his ideal future that his parents planned for him.
“Topper, hey. Look at me,” I said, calling him by his name for the first time. “Someday, you’re going to meet a girl who you feel this strongly about, maybe even more. Only this time she won’t want to change you. She’ll want to get to know you, the real you. Most importantly, she will never put you in a situation where you have to lose yourself like this. Just being you will be enough.”
He just stared at me in silence. The broken look on his face never wavered as he tried to process my words. He bit his lips together, holding back tears as he reached for the bottle he had set down on the way in. I grabbed it quickly, feeling my empathy welling up inside my stomach. I couldn’t let him destroy himself tonight.
“You can’t drink your problems away, Top,” I said softly. He nodded and stood up, unbuttoning his white dress shirt. I looked away, trying not to stare at the definition on his back muscles. I walked to the bathroom while he changed. I dumped the rest of his beer down the sink and walked back into his room. When I entered, he was in his boxers, stretching out his arms. Each ab looked like it was airbrushed on. I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I stared at the sight. He got into bed and turned towards me. I smiled softly as I grabbed my dress off of his floor and walked towards the door, reaching to turn the light off.
“Stay,” he said. His voice was almost desperate. I turned to see his face. I analyzed how different it was since the first time I saw it. It was soft and scared. I nodded, hitting the light and dropping my dress. I crawled into his bed and began asking myself why I was doing this. He slipped his arms around me before muttering softly. “Just for tonight.”
His arms around me felt differently than Rafe’s. He was holding me protectively and with care unlike Rafe’s. He wasn’t holding me to feel my body, he was doing it to feel better. I melted into his body, breathing in the strong scent of beer and cologne on him. I glanced up to look upon his now peaceful face. His blue eyes were now shut and his breathing was slower.
I couldn’t lie to myself. He was exactly the boy I wanted to be with and that’s the reason I didn’t think of Rafe romantically. Topper was caring and compassionate despite some of his actions. He was intelligent and driven. Even though he was uptight, we would balance each other out perfectly in a relationship. We would bring out the best in each other. Not to mention, he was handsome as hell. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about him, but I had to. He was in love with someone else. I would never be enough to fit his image of perfection. The real me would never be enough. Plus, he had already deemed me a friend, except we would never be just friends. Eventually my looseness and his caution would drive us apart as friends. We were doomed.
I closed my eyes as I thought about what would happen next. I needed to push the romantic thoughts of him aside. He would be fine without me. I peeked my eyes open and took one more glance at him before blocking him out of my mind.
Rafe was dying to be involved with me. Between the two sides of him, and his overbearing expectations, he needed me. I could learn to love him. I could fix his broken parts with some pieces of my own. He would love me and I would love him. I would support him. I wouldn’t think about Topper anymore.
___________________________________________
Tag List : @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @kiarascarreras @ilovejjmaybank @potterheadhollander @rudths @spilledtee @queenieloveswriting @multifandomlovess @starlightstarkey @tomhardybby @diverdcwn @sadcupofcoffee
#outer banks topper#obx topper#topper thornton#topper thorton x reader#topper#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx netflix#obx
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sorry, Cassandra.
So, it's definite then
It's written in the stars, darlings
Everything must come to an end - Susanne Sundfør
I first learned about the climate crisis in 2008, as an undergrad at Hunter College, in a class called The History and Science of Climate Change. For the next decade I would struggle with how to process and act on the scientific paradigm shift climate change required: that human activity could disrupt the climate system and create a planetary ecosystem shift making Earth uninhabitable to human life. I became a climate justice activist and attempted to work directly on The Problem which was actually, as philosopher Timothy Morton writes, a hyperobject, something so systemic and enormous in size and scope as to be almost unintelligible to human awareness. I’ve cycled through probably every single response a person could have to this knowledge, despair, ecstasy, rage, hope. I’ve landed somewhere close to what I might call engaged bewilderment. For me, his particular locale has a soundtrack, and it’s Susanne Sundfør’s cinematic dance dystopia Ten Love Songs, an album that tells a story of love and loss in the Anthropocene. Sundfør is a sonic death doula for the Neoliberal project, with a uniquely Scandinavian version of bleak optimism. To truly grapple with this time of escalating transition, we need to really face what is, not what we hope or fear will be, but what is actually happening. A throbbing beat with shimmering synths around which to orient your dancing mortal envelope can’t hurt.
Susanne Sundfør’s Ten Love Songs was released a few days after Valentine’s Day in February of 2015, six months after I had been organizing Buddhists and meditators for the Peoples Climate March. I was already a fan, having first heard her voice as part of her collaboration with dreamy synth-pop outfit m83 on the Oblivion soundtrack. Oblivion was visually striking but felt like a long music video. The soaring synths and Sundfør’s powerful voice drove the plot more than the acting, though I loved how Andrea Riseborough played the tragic character Vika, whose story could have been more central to the plot but was sidelined for a traditional Tom Cruise romantic centerpiece. But since the movie was almost proud of its style over investment in substance, the music stood out. The soundscapes were as expansive as the green-screened vistas of 2077 in the movie. It was just nostalgic enough while also feeling totally new, a paradox encapsulated in the name of m83’s similarly wistful and sweeping Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. I am not exempt from taking comfort in style that signifies a previous era, and I am also not alone in it. It’s a huge industry, and while the MAGA-style yearning for a previous era is one manifestation, maybe there are ways to acknowledge culture as cyclical in a way that doesn’t sacrifice traditional knowledge to some imagined myth of perpetual progress.
When Ten Love Songs came out the following year, I listened to it on repeat for days. Sundfør seemed to have absorbed the music-driven sci-fi into a concept album, with m83 providing her with a whole new panopoly of sounds at her disposal. Like Oblivion, Ten Love Songs told the story of a future dystopia with high speed chases, nihilistic pleasure-seeking and operatic decadence against a backdrop of technocratic inequality. It mixed electro-pop with chamber music and I listened to it on a Greyhound ride to Atlantic City in the middle of snowy February. I hadn’t felt like this since high school, that a full album was a sort of soundtrack to my own life, which I could experience as cinematic in some way while the music was playing. This situated me in my own story, of studying climate change as an undergrad and graduating into a financial collapse, working as a personal assistant to an author writing about ecological collapse and ritual use of psychedelics, to joining a Buddhist community and organizing spiritual activists around climate justice.
Ten Love Songs is a breakup album, with lyrics telling of endings and running out of time. But it didn’t read to me as an album about a single human romantic relationship coming to an end. It felt like a series of vignettes about the planet and its ecosphere breaking up with us, all of us. People. Some songs like Accelerate, one of the album’s singles, throb in an anthem to nihilistic numbness and speeding up into a catastrophe that feels inevitable. Fade Away is a bit lighter, tonally and lyrically, (and if you listen, please note the exquisitely perfect placement of what sounds like a toaster “ding!”), but is still about fading away, falling apart. The way the songs seem to drive a narrative of anthropocenic collapse built on science fiction film scores, the combination of orchestra and techno-pop, absolutely draws on Sundfør’s experience collaborating with m83 for the Oblivion soundtrack, which itself combined Anthony Gonzalez’s love for the adult-scripted teen dramas of his own 80’s adolescence. In Ten Love Songs, Sundfør takes what she learned from this collaboration and scores not a movie but a life experience of living through ecological collapse and all of the heartbreak and desire that erupts in a time when everything seems so close to the knife’s edge.
I am reminded of another Scandinavian dance album that was extremely danceable yet harbored within it a sense of foreboding. The Visitors, ABBA’s eighth studio album, was considered their venture into more mature and complex music. The two couples who comprised the band had divorced the year before it was released, and the entire atmosphere of the album is paranoid, gloomy, and tense. The cover shows the four musicians, on opposite sides of a dark room, ignoring each other. Each song is melancholy and strange in its own way, unique for a pop ensemble like Abba. One song in particular showcases their ability to use an archetype of narrative tragedy and prophesy to tell the story of regret. Cassandra is sung from the perspective of those who didn’t heed the woman cursed by Zeus to foretell the future but never be believed.
I have always considered myself a pretty big Abba fan, something my high school choir instructor thought was riotously funny. I was born in the 80’s and nobody in my family liked disco, so I seemed like something of an anachronism. But pop music, especially synth-oriented pop, has always felt like a brain massage to me. It could get my inner motor moving when I felt utterly collapsed in resignation to the scary chaos of my early life. But I only discovered the song Cassandra in 2017, while giving The Visitors a full listen. It felt like I had never heard the song before, though, as a fan I must have. But something about 2015 made the song stand out more. It starts with piano, soft tambourine, and the ambient sound of a harbor. It has a coastal Mediterranean vibe, as some Abba songs do, foreshadowing Cassandra’s removal from her home city, an event she foretold but could not get anyone to believe. It’s a farewell song of regret, echoing the regret the members of Abba felt about their own breakups.
We feel so full of promise at the dawn of a new relationship. Only after the split can we look back and say we saw the fissures in the bond. The signs were there. Why did we ignore them? This happens on an individual level but the Cassandra paradox is an archetype that climate scientists and journalists are very familiar with. This particular Abba song, and the Visitors album overall, uses this archetype to tell the story of a breakup in retrospect. With climate change, the warnings have been there, even before science discovered the rising carbon in the atmosphere. Indigenous peoples have been warning of ecological collapse since colonization began. Because of white supremacy and an unwavering belief in “progress,” perpetual economic and technological development and growth, warnings from any source but especially marginalized sources have been noise to those who benefit from that perpetual growth model and from white supremacy itself. Is there a way to undo the Cassandra curse and render warnings signal BEFORE some major event turns us all into the chorus from Abba’s song, singing “some of us wanted- but none of us could-- listen to words of warning?” Composer Pauline Oliveros called listening a radical act. It is especially so when we listen actively to the sounds and signals of those we would otherwise overlook.
When I look back at my life in the time that Sundfør’s Ten Love Songs and m83’s movie music seems nostalgic for, the late 1980’s in New Jersey, I was a child with deeply dissociative and escapist tendencies, which helped me survive unresolved grief, loss, and chaos. I recognize my love for Abba’s hypnotic synth music as a surrendering to the precise and driving rhythm of an all-encompassing sound experience. I also see how my early life prepared me to be sensitized to the story climate science was telling when I finally discovered it in 2008. I had already grown up with Save the Whales assemblies and poster-making contests, with a heavy emphasis on cutting six-pack rings so that sea life would not be strangled to death. I knew what it was like to see something terrible happening all around you and to feel powerless to stop it, because of the way my parents seemed incapable of and unsupported in their acting out their own traumatic dysregulation. Wounds, unable to heal, sucking other people into the abyss. I escaped through reading science fiction, listening to music like Abba and Aphex Twin loud enough to rattle my bones. I wanted to overwhelm my own dysregulated nervous system. I dreamed of solitude on other planets, sweeping grey vistas, being the protagonist of my own story where nothing ever hurt because ice ran through my veins and the fjords around me. My home planet was dying, and nobody could hear those of us screaming into the wind about it.
Ten Love Songs woke up that lost cosmic child who had banished herself to another solar system. Songs of decadence, songs of endings, songs of loss. Though that album was not overtly about climate change, Sundfør did talk about ecological collapse in interviews for her radically different follow-up album Music For People In Trouble. After the success of Ten Love Songs, Sundfør chose to travel to places that she said “might not be around much longer” in order to chronicle the loss of the biosphere for her new album. It is more expressly and urgently about the current global political moment, but the seeds for those themes were present and in my opinion much more potent in the poppier album. But maybe that’s the escapist in me.
The old forms that brought us to this point are in need of end-of-life care. Capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchal theocratic nationalism, neoliberalism, they all need death doulas. Escapism makes sense in response to traumatic stimulus, and for many of us it may have helped us survive difficult circumstances. But if we are to face what it means to be alive on this planet at this moment, we might be here to be present to and help facilitate and ease the process of putting these systems to rest. And maybe this work is not at odds with a dance party. The ability to be visionary about shared alternatives to these dying systems is not inherently escapist, when we are willing to take the steps together to live into those new stories. What would happen if cursed Cassandras, instead of pleading with existing power structures to heed warnings that sound like noise to them, turned to each other to restore the civic body through listening, through bearing witness to each others unacknowledged and thwarted grief over losses unacknowledged by those same systems of coercive power?
Engaged bewilderment means my version of hope, informed by Rebecca Solnit’s work on the topic, comes from the acceptance that things will happen that I could never have imagined possible. Climate change is happening and there are certain scientific certainties built into that trajectory. Some of it is written in the stars. But as with any dynamic system change, we do not know exactly how it will all shake out. These unknowns can be sources of fear and despair, but there is also the possibility for agency, choice and experimentation. The trajectory of my individual life was always going to end in death. Does that make it a failure? Or does it render each choice and engagement of movement towards the unknown an ecstatic act? As the old forms collapse, no need to apologize to the oracles. At this point they are dancing, and hope you’ll join.
#susanne sundfør#abba#anthropocene#hope#climate crisis#climate change#ecological collapse#scandinavian music#dystopia#utopia
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Choices - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn - Part 17
Word Count: 2,118
POV: Reader
Warnings: Language
Notes: Sorry I’m a little late posting this today, things got crazy hectic. Things are starting to get hectic here as well. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this, things are going to start moving a bit quicker I think...haha! Happy reading!
The fact that Tyler kept pretending like he didn’t know that Kathleen was getting off free and clear from her accident with Jamie, just really pissed you off. So, when he asked what he did, you simply lost it. “If you don’t know what you did; I can’t help you. Why don’t you call Kathleen and ask her? I’m sure she can explain it a lot better than I can.” With that, you hung up the phone. Your heart was beating fast and you realized that you probably yelled that last part loud enough that Jamie could hear it, but at the moment you didn’t care. Shutting the phone off, you set it down by the bed and then went back to the living room to check on Jamie.
“Were you just yelling at Tyler?” He asked. Jamie, looked as though he was feeling a bit better, as a small smile was on his lips as he relaxed against the couch cushions.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud. I just couldn’t get it through his head not to come over.” He reached his hand out to draw you down by him, and you went willingly. “He’s just so frustrating at times.” You laid your head on Jamie’s shoulder, as he scooted your legs to rest over the top of him.
“I get it babe, but let’s forget about him. He’s not coming over and we can just concentrate on us now.” Jamie bent his head and captured your lips. The kiss tender and loving, washing away all thoughts of everything the morning had wrought. His hands snuck under your sweatshirt, to glide along your ribcage. Once there, he cupped your breasts in his hands, running his thumbs across your nipples. You moaned into his mouth.
The position you were in, was somewhat awkward for things to proceed, so you moved to straddle Jamie, but whacked his bad knee in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “Shit hun, I’m so sorry.”
“Huh, what?” You literally got off of him as fast as you could without causing him any further pain, not fully registering what he said.
“Do you need ice or a pain pill? I’m so sorry; I was just trying to get in a better position.” You were off the couch now, headed toward the kitchen to get some ice, hoping to god you hadn’t caused him any more discomfort. As soon as you got the ice pack, you headed back into the living room and placed it on Jamie’s knee. Only then did you look at his face to see how much pain he was in. He seemed to be fine.
“It’s alright sweetheart, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“Oh Jame, that can’t be true. Maybe we should take the bandage off and make sure it’s not bleeding?” You moved your hands to the gauze that covered his knee, but Jamie stopped you.
“No babe, it’s fine, really. The doctor said I should keep that on, remember?” Of course, you remembered the doctor saying that it seemed weird at the time, but you didn’t question it, as Jamie had a follow-up appointment in a few days and you’d assumed it would be changed then.
“I really think we should just…”
“It’s fine (Y/N). I’ve already told you that.” He snapped and it took you by surprise with how harshly he said the words. It didn’t even register, that you took a step back from him. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just been a long morning, and I’m a bit on edge.” Holding out his hand to you he asked. “Just come sit down with me.”
You remained standing, knowing the morning had taken a toll on him, so you dismissed his mood on that. “Maybe you should go back to bed for a while babe, just rest.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” He got up, then hobbled over on his crutches to give you a small peck. “Why don’t you join me?”
“Umm, maybe in a bit. I have some things I need to get done around here first.”
“Alright.” He seemed a bit dejected, so you went up on your toes and kissed him, letting him know that all was forgiven.
“I’ll be in shortly.” Once Jamie was in the bedroom, you went about the house, cleaning things up and throwing in the laundry that had seemed to be piling up from the last couple of days. All of your stuff was still at your apartment, and you’d need to make a run over there at some point to get some of your things. Time slipped away from you, and as you threw the clothes from the washer into the dryer, you heard a weak knock at the door. Given the morning you’d had, you couldn’t guess who would be there. Though when you opened the door, you should’ve known it would be Tyler. “I thought I told you not to come over.” Stepping outside, you closed the door so that the two of you wouldn’t disturb Jamie.
“I have to talk to you.”
“Tyler now is not a good time.” You were really in no mood to listen to him try and defend himself over why he was protecting Kathleen. “Just go back home and we’ll talk tomorrow.” When you reopened the door, to go back inside he grabbed your wrist.
“I didn’t do it (Y/N).” You weren’t looking at his face, just the spot where he held your wrist. “I wasn’t the one who covered things up for Kathleen.”
Finally, you looked up into his face; he seemed completely sincere. “Then who did?”
“She won’t tell me. I tried to find out, but she won’t say a word.” This information wasn’t surprising, why would the woman give up her rescuer’s name if she didn’t have to. “What I do know, is that she had help.”
“If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” Wracking your brain you tried to think of someone that would benefit from Kathleen not being held responsible for Jamie’s accident. “Was it someone in her family?”
“I don’t think so, they aren’t from around here; so I have no idea how they would be able to pull that off.” His hold on your wrist relaxed so that he was holding your hand now.
“What about the Stars? Is there anyone in the organization that would cover this up?”
“I don’t know…maybe. I’ll definitely do some checking around. I just had to let you know that it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that. You mean too much to me to do that.” His thumb was running back and forth against the back of your hand. “You got to believe that I wouldn’t do that.”
Tyler had definitely given you reasons to doubt him in the past, but right now as you stood there looking into his eyes, you knew that he was telling the truth. “I believe you, Ty. I just don’t understand who would lie for her.”
“We’ll find out babe.” He pulled you into his arms then. It felt amazing to just be held there, things had just been so rough the last few hours and with Jamie snapping at you; it was amazing just to be held and loved at the moment. You sighed your contentment into his chest. “I miss you. I just wish I could make all of this disappear and it just be the two of us.”
It sounded heavenly at the moment, and then you remembered Jamie. Pulling out of Tyler’s embrace, you softly whispered. “As much as I want that, I have to get back to Jamie.”
“I understand. Are we still on for tomorrow night? I got a couple of the guys to come over and hang with Jamie. I thought we could just chill at my place. I’ll cook.”
A light chuckle escaped your lips. “You literally couldn’t prepare a meal to save your life.” He gave you a look of indigence. “Please tell me you aren’t making me grilled cheese?”
“Hey, those are my specialty.” His hands clutched at your hips then, drawing you back to him one last time. “But I can make a decent meal, just wait and see.”
Slipping your hands around his waist, you told him. “I’ll make sure to have a pizza place on speed dial.”
You both laughed, the sound easy and carefree, and part of you wished it could always be like this. “It won’t be needed. So what do you say, five o’clock at my house tomorrow?”
“Sounds perfect.” His lips found yours then, kissing you as if his life depended upon it until you pulled back. “I really have to go. I’ll be watching the game tonight though, so make sure you be careful.”
“That’s it? Not a goal? Or even a point? ”
“I’m happy if you just play a good game and don’t get hurt. I couldn’t handle it if you got hurt too.” You pecked his lips real quick. The last thing you needed in your life was for Tyler to get injured as well. There wasn’t a way to be in two places at once, that was for sure. “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alright babe, I love you.”
“I love you too.” You hadn’t said it last time, for it didn’t feel right, but at that moment you knew that you did love Tyler. And even though you loved Jamie as well, there was no reason not to tell Tyler how you were feeling. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face was so bright, it was almost blinding. “Now get out of here, before Jamie wakes up.” Reluctantly, he let go of you and headed to his car.
Back inside the house, you tip-toed outside of the bedroom to see if Jamie was awake or not. He was mumbling on the phone, but you swore you heard him say, ‘there’s no way anyone is going to find out,’ followed by, ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Who could he possibly be talking to? You opened the door, for you didn’t want him to think you were eavesdropping on him. As if he knew you were there, he ended the conversation abruptly.
You didn’t say anything, but he automatically offered to tell you who was on the phone. “Sorry babe, that was Jordie.” It made perfect sense that he would be talking to his brother and you didn’t question anymore of the conversation, not wanting to pry.
“Well, I hope you told him I said hello.”
“Oops, I will the next time. He was worried because I haven’t told mom about the amnesia, and I told him not to worry about it, that I’ll handle it.” Well now that you knew that piece of information, it was crystal clear what he was taking care of. “I just don’t want her to worry you know. I thought that my memory would be back before I said something to her, and Jordie’s worried she’s going to find out.”
“Not that it’s any of my business, but Jordie could be right.” You sat down on the bed beside him. “It would probably be better coming from you then someone else.”
“I know you’re right, and I will tell her. I just want to give it a few more days.” He scooted closer to you, wrapping his hands around you, so he could pull you against him. “I thought you were going to come and lay down with me.”
“Sorry, I started the laundry, then I was cleaning things up, but I’m here now.” A yawn came out, and it made you realize that you hadn’t really gotten that much sleep the last several nights.
“Is my princess tired?” He slunk down on the mattress, taking you with him so that you could lay on his chest.
“I didn’t realize how sleepy I actually am until I got in this bed.”
His hand swept through your hair tenderly and lovingly, making you melt a little deeper into him. “Well close your eyes and sleep for a while sweetheart.” You did exactly as Jamie said, and fell fast asleep, so much so that you never felt him leave the bed. But he must have at some point, for he was nowhere to be found when you woke up.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, so time for some choices….
A) Well, he’s obviously in the bathroom, the man has to go some time.
B) He’s out in the living room setting up the most romantic dinner ever to thank you.
C) He’s out in the living room on the phone, so he wouldn’t wake you.
#Choices series Tyler Seguin Jamie Benn#tyler seguin#tyler seguin imagine#tyler seguin imagines#jamie benn#jamie benn imagine#jamie benn imagines#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nightmares wake me up at night
Summary: Eddie has a nightmare, Richie comforts him
A/N: let me know what you think! :)
‘Eddie-bear, you wouldn’t ever leave me would you? Would you?
Eddie heaves a breath, shooting up in bed, his eyes wildly searching his bedroom. The only thing he can think about is the fact that he can’t breathe. He’s trying, as best as he can, remembering the tricks his psychologist told him, the tricks he practiced with Richie, but it’s no use. His hands subconsciously outstretching into his nightstand, reaching for his placebo inhaler. He knows though, knows he doesn’t need it, that it was something his mother forced into his head, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t stick.
He’s been working on it with his psychologist, and with Richie and all the other losers, and he’s getting better. He truly is, but in moments like these, were it feels as if his mother is physically reaching up from her grave to wrap her fingers around his neck, that doesn’t matter. He needs his inhaler, because he’s still not getting any air.
He realizes, in the back of his mind, that he doesn’t have his inhaler anymore. At least not in his nightstand. He got rid of it just last week, as an angry response to Sarah, the name of his psychologist, who had told him that keeping his placebo around was him trying to keep a part of his mother with him, and he had angrily tossed it out before he even had a chance to over think it. Richie had looked so proud he remembered.
Richie was the best boyfriend anyone could ever wish for, though Eddie would never admit that to his face, because then his ego might blow up. He never pushed Eddie for anything. He gently coerced him to try new things, but he let Eddie set his own pace, and if Eddie wasn’t ready for something, he never made him feel guilty for it.
That’s why Richie had never asked Eddie to get rid of his inhaler. In fact, Eddie was pretty sure Richie still kept one with him in case he would need it. It was sweet gesture, and Eddie appreciated it, because he knew Richie did it from a place of love. Still though, when Eddie had tossed his inhaler away, he had asked Richie to get rid of his too. Richie had nodded, and said he would, but Eddie knew for a fact that Richie had put it in one of the kitchen cabinets, because Richie wasn’t perfect, and he could be a lazy son-of-a-bitch sometimes. Because it was already dark by the time Eddie asked Richie to dispose of it, he hadn’t wanted to walk downstairs to the trash container, and had most likely convinced himself that he would do it the next day, only to completely forget about it.
Eddie felt like a cheater. Richie, though he didn’t say as much, looked so proud that Eddie was taking the step of getting rid of his fake medicine. Eddie could sense it by the way he came up behind Eddie, pressing a kiss on the top of his head, a bright smile beaming through. Eddie knew that he could always result to the inhaler in the cabinet though, so he didn’t really count it as a win, and he felt guilty for making Richie believe he was getting better.
After Eddie’s nightmare though, he didn’t care. He jumped up from the bed, his throat seemingly closing up more as time went on. His legs seemed to be tangled in the sheets, and Eddie nearly groaned out in frustration, but stopped short once someone else’s groan came out first. He looked quickly, his hands twisted tightly into the sheets. Richie was moving around, throwing his arm around the place Eddie had just been sleeping, but Eddie was sat up in bed, so his arms landed back n the bed. In his panic, Eddie had forgotten Richie was sleeping with him in bed, and now he wanted nothing more but the hug Richie as close as he could.
Richie needed his sleep though, he had been working very hard, and it was rare that he had a good nights rest. Eddie knew that Richie would want him to wake him up, Richie would die before he let anything happen to Eddie, but he still couldn’t breathe, and he knew that he needed to get out of here, not to mention the fact that he needed his medicine, and he didn’t want Richie to know that he had give in to his mother induced fears.
He finally managed to untangle his legs, and jumps out, slowly opening his door as to not wake Richie up. He’s fallen back asleep, his head buried in Eddie’s pillow. If Eddie had the mind to actually process that, he would have smiled. As it is, Eddie closed the door again, speed walking towards where he needs to be.
Eddie’s panting, as if he had just run a marathon, fumbling with the cabinet’s door. He can still hear his mother’s words in the back of his mind, even though he can’t remember what the dream was about. He doesn’t need to really, he heard the words all the time growing up as a child, he doesn’t need to hear them again to remember.
It’s crazy, how he forget about his friends for so long, how he forget the love of his life, but he could still remember the lies and hurt his mom caused him. Eddie feels the tears streaming down his face, he didn’t even realize he started crying. His hand enclosed on the cool material of his inhaler, and suddenly, it seems like he can take a breath. He pulls it out fast, loosening the cap, and he feels the delighted knowing he’ll get to breath again soon.
As he takes it towards his mouth however, he stops. He can still barely breath, but for just a small moment, he thinks back of Richie. He thinks back of being in the sewer with all the losers, even though the thought of a sewer makes a shiver run through his body. He thinks back of Richie telling him he’s braver than he thinks, and throwing a spear in Pennywise’s direction to save Richie. He helped kill IT, he helped his friends.
He’s not weak. He’s not what his mother had told him he was. He’s brave.
It were sentences he had been practicing with Sarah, and Richie too. Repeating the sentences were supposed to help Eddie with his confidence and though it hadn’t done much yet, Eddie was trying his hardest to believe them.
His hand holding the inhaler started to tremble, and Eddie was struggling between his desire to overcome his fear, and the comfort he knew he would instantly receive from using it. He crouched over the sink, his hands gripping the edge of it so tight, his knuckles were turning white.
‘I’m not weak’, Eddie mumbled. ‘I’m not weak. I refuse to let you win mom. You’ve wasted enough time of my life with your illness. I’m not sick ‘, Eddie voice kept raising, seemingly without him even registering it. If he did, he would have lowered his voice straight away, he didn’t want to wake Richie up. ‘I’m fine, this isn’t asthma, and you can’t hurt me anymore you hear me? I’m in love with Richie, and you know what Ma, that’s not sick. That’s love. You couldn’t possibly know about that because you have never loved me in your entire miserable life. But he does, and you know what mom? You can’t hurt me anymore, I won’t let you.’
Eddie gulped in a breath of air, this time not because of fear, but because of exhaustion. He had been yelling at his placebo as if that was his mother, and now that he was done, he threw the inhaler in the ground, watching as it sprung apart in pieces, broken in the floor. Eddie stared at it, like he himself couldn’t believe that he had just done that.
‘Eds’, his name suddenly reached his ears, and he turned around to see who was calling his name. It suddenly seemed like he was underwater, and it freaked him out until he laid eyes on Richie. Richie looked disheveled, a shirt hastily thrown on, his hair mulled over, his glasses askew on his face. He looked worried, and he eyed the aspirator with suspicion in his eyes.
‘Are you okay’? he asked, coming closer to Eddie but stopping a few steps away. Sometimes, when Eddie had awoken from a nightmare, he needed a few moments to calm down before he allowed people to touch him. Richie had found that out on one occasion when he placed his hands on his cheeks, and Eddie clocked him in the jaw after thinking It was pennywise coming back to kill him. Eddie had of course profoundly apologized, begging Richie to forgive him. Richie had done so right after Eddie had hit him, but it took Eddie a whole month before he had trusted himself to sleep in the same bed with Richie again.
Eddie looked up at him, ‘Richie’, he croaked out, and it was only then that he realized how hard he must have been screaming. His voice sounded wrecked, and he was shaking. He hadn’t even realized it, but he was freezing cold. His legs suddenly felt to weak to keep his body upright, and he sunk down onto the floor. Richie came over to him, sitting close enough that their shoulders were touching, but not close enough like Eddie knew he wanted to be sitting.
For a while neither of them spoke. Eddie was lost in thought, staring at a point in the ground, trying to organize the ideas and words in his brain. There was so much noise, not outside or coming from Richie, which was unusual if Eddie was being honest, but from inside of him. He didn’t think he had ever seen Richie as quite as he was now, but he knew Richie was just letting him work through everything on his own, because Richie knew that Eddie would come to him on his own time.
‘I had another nightmare’, Eddie finally spoke up, and at the sound of his voice, Richie’s body sagged a little. He was clearly very happy that the silent had been broken.
‘Why didn’t you wake me’? Richie asked, his voice a little sharp with betray. Eddie understood though. He wasn’t the only one in the relationship who had nightmares, or even night terrors. Richie had them plenty, and Eddie, who had always been a light sleeper, always woke up when he did. Richie was a heavy sleeper, and he had begged Eddie to wake him up whenever he was the one that had nightmares. Eddie had promised, but sometimes it was just hard to convince himself that his problems were worth waking Richie up for.
‘I just’, Eddie sighed, he owed Richie the truth, because Richie always told him the truth too. ‘I panicked, and I couldn’t breath and I wanted my inhaler. I’m sorry, I know, I know I don’t need it, but I knew that if I took it I’d be calm in an instant. I’m sorry, I can’t believe she can still get me like this. She’s been dead for five years.’ Eddie started crying again, he didn’t dare to look up to his boyfriend, waiting for the blow he knew Richie would never give him.
All of a sudden, Eddie felt bile rising in his throat. The spaghetti they had the night before was threatening to come back up. Eddie hated vomiting, and he hated toilets, but he hated it even more if there was vomit on the floor. And he would absolutely refuse to barf in the kitchen of all places.
He shot up, storming towards the bathroom. He heard Richie call out his name, and he could hear the fast footsteps behind him, Richie was following him. He crunched down in front of the toilet, just in time. While he was throwing up, Richie placed a comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles. He felt a cold towel being pressed to his forehead, and he was so thankful for Richie being here, he cried even more.
‘Shhh, you’re working yourself up too much Eds, just breath. You’re okay’, Richie soothed. If Eddie wasn’t so busy cringing, he would have responded.
When all the food had left his stomach, he sat back up, his back pressed towards Richie’s chest. He allowed himself about five seconds, before getting up and walking towards the bathroom sink. Richie flushed the toilet, watching as Eddie brushed his teeth three times the normal amount, before he was satisfied and allowed Richie to get closer.
Richie pulled him close instantly, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s forehead. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ Richie said, grabbing Eddie’s hand and leading him out the bathroom. He knew him so well, he knew Eddie would hate to be in the room where the bacteria would be swarming around.
Richie walked with Eddie to the edge of the bed, and he dropped down like a bloc of lead. He was so tired, but he didn’t want to sleep already, he didn’t want to end up in another nightmare. Richie walked towards the kitchen, reappearing soon after to bring a water bottle to Eddie’s bed sight.
After a mumbled, ‘drink’, Richie disappeared into the bathroom once more. This time he stayed away longer, but when he walked back into the bedroom, Eddie smelled disinfected.
He crawled into the other side of the bed, and Eddie instantly shuffled closer, laying his head on Richie’s chest. Richie’s arm wrapped around Eddie’s back, squeezing him tight.
‘I’m sorry’, Eddie whispered. He wasn’t able to make his voice sound louder, he was just so tired of fighting his anxiety’s and his mind all the time. Richie seemed to sense it.
‘You don’t have to be sorry’, Richie started, shaking his head when Eddie opened his mouth to argue.
‘You don’t. Okay well, maybe you should be sorry for not waking me up. I could think of one or two fun ways to take your mind off things’, Richie winked and laughed, and Eddie laughed right with him. Then he turned serious again. ‘For real though, you have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been through so much, and look how far you’ve come. You’re so strong Eds, maybe I don’t say that enough, but you are.’
‘But I was going to use my inhaler again, even though I know I don’t have asthma.’ Eddie objected.
Richie shushed him. ‘But you didn’t. Sure you thought about it, But you didn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were cursing at your mom in hell,’ Richie laughed. Eddie play slapped Richie’s chest, but he felt better. Not much, because his problems couldn’t just be solved with some kind words from Richie, but they certainly helped.
‘What? Didn’t deny it. You screamed almost as much as your mom did when I spend the night with her.’
‘Rich’, Eddie groaned, but a smile was ruining his angry façade. He looked back up at Richie. Looking at his eyes, his nose, his cheekbones and his beautiful dark hair. Everything about him is magnificent.
‘I love you Rich’, he says, smiling as he strokes Richie’s cheeks.
Richie quiets down suddenly. ‘I love you too Eds.’ He says it so sincerely, Eddie feels his heart overflow. Their lips meet, and every time they kiss, it feels like the very first time. When they pull apart, Eddie lays his head over Richie’s heart. Hearing it beating brings him peace, and as he closes his eyes, all he can think about is ways to ask the love of his life to marry him.
#reddie#reddie fluff#richie x eddie#richie tozier imagine#eddie kaspbrak imagine#reddie imagine#My writing#the losers club imagines#it chapter 2#it chapter two imagine
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Αγάπη” (Agapé) 1st Petal
Summary: Pallas is a life coach and matchmaker who spends her days helping other people find their happiness in life, having forgotten to search for her own. Her business running smoothly and with little to no hiccups until one phone call upsets her whole world. Bakugou Katsuki, a handsome and famous confirmed bachelor, has found himself longing for something unusual, a relationship with substance. Swallowing his pride he calls Pallas initiating an interaction that will change their lives for the foreseeable future. Will the matchmaker make a match or get matched?
Chapter Length: 10k words
Beta-readers: @samanthaa-leanne, @honeytama, Thank you @pixxiesdust for beta reading before it was considered nsfw, @natsuosfairy
Tags: @bnhabookclub
Warnings: Cussing/ Cursing/ Mature Language, Suggestive Content, Physical Assault
Bakugou’s P.O.V.
I put in the combination to my lock, deftly maneuvering the dial in a series of fluid motions, easily popping it open after years of repetition. My body moves of its own accord, the process of getting suited up being muscle memory at this point.
Some other hero in the locker room clears his throat before saying, “Hey Bakugou, it’s been a hot minute since we last saw each other huh?”
I merely grunt in response, placing my civilian clothes on the shelf after folding them, and continue suiting up for my shift.
“As talkative as ever I see. Anyways, you seem a bit down. I know I’m not Kirishima, and we’re not as close, but I thought I’d give you a quick piece of advice. Getting out of a relationship sucks, but you can’t let it get you down for too long.”
He pauses and waits for a response from me. When there is none he continues, but not before I hear a small comment to himself, “It’s like talking to a wall.”
My left eye twitches at the remark. I don’t even spare him a glance as I finish up with the final pieces of my hero costume. I shut my locker door with more force than necessary then lock it, swiftly turning around and leaving the locker room to head out for my shift. I glance at the clock briefly, making a mental note of the time as I stamp my time card. ‘The reason why you felt like you were talking to a wall is because you couldn’t take the hint that I don’t want any interaction, despite that hint being practically written in bold red letters across my forehead.’
“I’m fucking Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero, top in the nation. I don’t need nor do I want your opinion. Tch.” I say to myself, the words ringing through my head as I push open the heavy door and step out of the building to start my patrol.
⇜↭⇝
I lean back in my desk chair, and stretch. The reports for the day are all filled out and ready to be handed in. I take my phone off my desk and check the time. ‘2:58 am, I should put these papers on the admin. assistant’s desk, after I log off, then I’ll go punch out.’ I log off my computer before picking up the stack of reports and head over to the assistant’s desk, and placing it on the only free and available space. I pick up a sticky note from off her desk and write today’s date, then grab a rubber band from the jar on her desk and secure it around the stack of papers. ‘I swear I don’t know how she’s managed up until now, her desk is never organized. It’s a miracle we’re not backed up at the moment with the state her desk is in being in constant disarray.’ Turning away from her desk I walk towards the locker room to change and clock out. ‘Damn, I did not distract myself nearly as much as I would have liked to today. I think I know what...’ Pulling out my phone I tap on the messaging app and open up the chat between myself and my best friend since high school. ‘A sparring session with a long-time friend might just do the trick.’
Bakugou: Spar tomorrow morning?
Kirishima: Sure, np!
I finish taking the rest of my suit off and get lost in the motions of putting my civilian clothes back on, my mind returning to my recent break up. ‘I knew that woman was dating me partly based on me being a hero, but damn, to have her shove it in my face that it was the only reason she was dating me to begin with, packs a bigger punch than I thought possible.’ I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets while reflecting on the events of my most recent shift, and then heave out a sigh, “Could just go out for one or two beers,” I mumble to myself, taking a quick glimpse behind my shoulder.
⇜↭⇝
*Phone ringing*
The sound coming from my phone sets off a piercing wave of pain through my brain. ‘God damn, who the fuck is calling me this early in the morning?’ I swipe my finger across the screen stalling for a moment to allow the phone to recognize my fingerprint, and then press my phone against my ear. I throw my arm across my face to block the stinging sliver of light from shining into my eyes through the slit in the curtains.
“What’s up?” my voice comes out, raspy and barely above a whisper, but it still sounds like it’s echoing through my head.
“Hey, Bakubro, why aren’t you here yet?” I let out a low growl at the cheery tone on the other end, and wince at the old nickname, a teasing endearment made years ago, that just kind of stuck.
“What do you mean?”
“Dude it’s 9:45 right now, you’re late.”
I jolt up, and throw my covers off of myself and recoil slightly from the blinding pain the light brings on, before haphazardly scooping up my open gym bag. I rush toward the door, staggering a bit as I stuff my feet into my shoes. Nearly toppling over as I miss the wall I intended to use for support.
I do a quick pat down of myself, “Phone, wallet...” I look around frantically, the knowledge that Kirishima will not let go of something like this for the next week, no at least a month or so, is like being doused with a bucket of ice cold water. I can hear his smug tone already, putting a hand against my head and reeling out the door. ‘The gym is roughly a five minute run away. I’m not running that feeling like this, I’ll just walk it instead.’ I head for the stairs and open the door, someone has just slammed the door closed on a different floor, which has me seeing stars from the echoing in the stairwell. ‘No way in hell, am I going to suffer through shaking my brain around as I speed run down the stairs. Fuck that.’ I turn on my heel and head for the elevator, letting out a sigh of relief at the quick service and the gentle music, the lights, however, feel like they’re piercing straight through my skull and out the other side. The small jostling motion from arriving at the base floor sends a wave of nausea through me, one I haven’t felt in years, not since I was younger and less experienced with my tolerance levels for alcohol.
“Shit,” the familiar swear coming easily to me as I all but throw myself out of the elevator, muttering, “For fucks sake, pull yourself together.” as I leave the apartment complex.
⇜↭⇝
As I walk up to the gym, Kirishima spots me from his place leaning against the wall outside.
“Look who finally decided to show up!” Kirishima says joyfully, clapping as if congratulating me on my appearance. I respond by flipping him the bird.
As we enter the locker room, I open the side pocket of my gym bag and grab a bottle full of pain killers, pop two in my mouth and swallow them dry.
“Kirishima, could you keep it down I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“Oh, did someone have a bit of fun last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if you’re into that kind of thing, I won’t judge. You know I’ll support you now matter what, right? It’s what friends are for!”
“What are you going on about?” I ask while leaning my head against the cool locker, the chill giving a small reprieve from the now constant pulsing throughout my skull.
“Dude.”
I look at Kirishima, my aggravation settling into my features as I turn to address him directly. Kirishima points down at the floor directing my attention to a certain article of clothing, my eyes widen in shock. The garment in question is sitting on the floor betraying my activities from the night before.The bra itself is pretty bold, it’s bright red and lacy with highlighter orange accents.
“What the fuck?”
“It dropped out of YOUR gym bag.” Kirishima’s face lights up in delight.
I let out a small, “Tsk.” and snatch up the garment, shoving it into my gym bag. I take out the lock from my bag and toss the bag into the locker, closing and locking it afterwards. I glance over at Kirishima, whose face is bright red from attempting to suppress his laughter, finally he breaks down in a fit of giggles.
The absurd situation brings a reluctant smile to my face, and a small chuckle escapes my lips. I shake my head and nudge Kirishima with my elbow. He is currently buckled over, barely maintaining an upright position holds up his pointer finger, signalling for me to wait.
“Give...me... a minute.” Kirishima manages to breathe out in between fits of laughter.
I roll my eyes in annoyance at Kirishima’s discomposure, ‘It’s not like it was even that funny...’
“You know, I’m gonna pay you back for laughing at me right?”
Kirishima manages to nod his head yes as he takes in some deep breaths of air, to calm himself down. We head out of the locker room together and make a beeline for the open mat area.
“It’ll be worth the pain, because the look on your face was priceless bro.”
I pound my fists together in imitation of Kirishima’s signature move, signalling to him that I’m ready.
“Hey man, don’t you want to get warmed up or something before heading straight into it?”
I shake my head, “Nah. No need.”
Kirishima shrugs and settles into a starting position. We lock eyes and we both nod, we circle around each other for a few moments, an air of seriousness about us. Then, I lunge at Kirishima, my right arm outstretched, he quickly dodges my maneuver. He steps towards me and sweeps his foot under my leg, I drop to the floor immediately and he follows my descent. Quickly wrapping his arms around me, hooking his feet around my legs and letting his weight pin me to the floor.
He chuckles darkly in my ear, “Hehe, that was an unusually easy take down. Guess I’m getting stronger than you.”
I frown and put my hands down on the floor underneath me and push upwards. I pause after reaching full extension for just an instant, and then I suddenly drop down slamming our bodies down onto Kirishima’s hands and crushing them under our weight before Kirishima has the chance to activate his quirk.
Kirishima hisses out in pain, “Ow, you fucker...”
I push off the ground with one arm, shifting my weight and his by twisting my body quickly, so that I am facing him. I push my hands to the front of my chest and push upwards so that my hands are together and my elbows are pressing against his inner elbows. I then use my quirk setting off a small explosion, adding a boost to my arms pushing out straight. This breaks his strong lock-like hold and allows me to reach up and grab Kirishima by the ears. I pull myself up and pull his head down, bashing my head into his. Kirishima, however, activates his hardening quirk, so the action sends a new shock wave of pain through my brain stunning me and leaving me laying flat on the mat. The once dull pulsing has now been brought to the forefront of my attention. Kirishima hops up to his feet smirking down at me as I lay face up beneath him. I offer my hand and he takes it, pulling me to my feet. We go for a few more rounds, only using our quirks once in a while. The point of this sparring session is for me to get out as much energy and aggression with as little damage to the surrounding area as possible. I’m now drenched in sweat, the bleary-eyed mess from this morning is long gone. I bring my shirt up to my forehead to wipe away the sweat that’s accumulated there.
“Where’d you get those bruises from?”
“Huh?”
“Right there, did you get cupping done. Y’know, muscle therapy?” Kirishima motions towards a particularly nasty looking mark on my side.
I walk up to the wall length mirror of the gym to examine it at a better angle. Upon closer inspection, I notice what are clearly tooth impressions?
“Are you fucking kidding me...” I grumble under my breath, “the bitch marked me!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to stave off the inevitable headache leering its ugly head up, caused by yet another poor life decision. ‘My usual no marking policy when dealing with temporary guests either went completely ignored or I was so far gone last night that I completely forgot.’ I hastily drop my shirt back down hoping that no one saw the wince-inducing bruises scattered along my side. If the press gets a hold of a picture of me like that they’ll have a field day. The fling will turn into a week to month long ordeal to have to deal with. I shake my head attempting to clear my thoughts and turn back to Kirishima, who is staring at me with a look of concern.
“Hey I think I’m good for the day, what about you?” Kirishima just silently accepts that if I wanted to talk about it I would. Which is one of the main reasons why we’ve remained friends since high school. He is one of the few people who I can count on to leave me alone and give me my space while also calling me out on my bullshit when the situation calls for it. I simply nod my head in response, and we head back into the locker rooms to gather our things and leave.
⇜↭⇝
I grab my keys out of my jacket pocket and turn the key in the lock, only to notice the absence of the sound of the pins catching on the key as I turn it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, someone is inside my apartment. Raising up my hand, a few pops resound from my sweaty palms as I ready myself for whatever lay in wait beyond the door to my apartment. I turn the handle and kick the door open, both hands raised in defense of myself, the sound of a few explosions reverberating throughout the almost empty living space. I am greeted by the sight of some woman sitting on my couch in my living room. She doesn’t even look up from her bowl of cereal and the current show streaming on the television.
“What the actual fuck?” I exclaim.
The woman continues ignoring me as I take a few more steps into the apartment, her face bringing back blurry memories of the previous night. I am filled with disgust at the fact that I stooped so low as to pick up some floozy of a woman in my time of distress. ‘Why the fuck hasn’t she gone home yet?’ the question blinking back at me in neon lights. I approach the armrest of the couch that she’s currently sitting on and tap her on the shoulder.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing her?” I ask, I can feel my emotions bubbling to the surface on the verge of boiling over.
She takes a quick look in my direction and says, “Hey, good thing you’re here, I thought you should know you’re out of milk.”
A few moments of absolute silence pass by as I am completely dumbfounded by her nonchalant attitude. Narrowing my eyes I stare at the side of her head hoping for at least some respect, given the very prominent issue at hand. My brows knit tightly together, ‘Is she dumb? Is she for real?’ instead of speaking my thoughts aloud I say, “Thanks for the heads up, now leave.”
She puts the bowl she has down on the coffee table and stands up huffing as she does so, “But I didn’t even finish my show or my cereal.”
I sneer, “That’s MY cereal you’re eating.”
She crosses her arms and stamps her feet at me like an insolent child throwing a tempter tantrum, “No. I am going to finish eating, and then YOU owe ME a ride home.”
Pulling out my phone I swipe through my contacts until I get to the J section, calling up a friend of mine from the force. While the phone is dialing out the woman sits back down and picks up “her” bowl of cereal and continues eating.
“Hey Bakugou, what can I do for you?”
“Hey Joe, I’ve got a situation. I had someone over last night and she’s now refusing to leave.”
“Okay, I’ll send my people right over.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem man.”
⇜↭⇝
There’s a knocking at the door, and I walk over and open it, two officers are standing in the doorway awaiting entry, I sidestep out of the way and motion for them to come in.
“Hello officers-”
“Are you fucking kidding me!”
The woman who had been peacefully sitting on the couch watching whatever garbage was now on the television shoots to her feet.
“This is fucking ridiculous, I’m sitting here calmly minding my own business and you call the cops on me!?”
She storms off in the direction of my bedroom stomping her feet along the way. The officers move forward to prevent her from going further into the apartment, but I hold my hand up for them to remain where they are. Her voice carries through the apartment, mouthing off about the unfairness of the whole situation and the audacity I have for kicking her out, her complaints strewn with curses. Completely ignoring the fact that she is currently in MY apartment. Her voice stopping only to take a quick breath of air in and then continuing her ranting. ‘Of all the people...’ I sigh to myself as she comes hauling herself and her belongings through the hallway towards us. Reaching into my bag I procure the garment that had mislaid itself, holding it out to her with my fingers. The strap of the bra balancing precariously as she huffs by. She flounces a bit as she approaches the door, turning her head to address me to land one last remark, when she notices her bra.
I walk towards her and say, “I believe this is yours.”
Her face erupts into a brilliant shade of red, she squeals in outrage snatching the garment up and slamming the door behind her.
“Damn...”
“You sure know how to pick ‘em Bakugou.”
I glare in their direction and walk up to the door and open it, “Thank you officers, I appreciate you coming down here. Have a great day.”
They look at each other and then file out the door, after they leave I close the door behind them thankful to the quiet that follows.
Pallas’ P.O.V.
I walk into the coffee shop, the familiar tinkling of bells on the door and the smell of freshly-ground coffee beans bring a feeling of warm comfort. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get over the initial nervousness I get when I do an intake for a client.’ I mull this over while listening to the soft, mellow music playing from the various speakers strewn about the shop. While waiting in line, I pass the time by scrolling through my social media feed. The fake smiles and duck-faced selfies never-ending. It’s not long before it’s my turn to order, when I look up and approach the counter I’m greeted by an unfamiliar face ‘Oh, he must be new.’ the thought whisks through my mind as I take in the man standing in front of me. He’s got a soft attractiveness about him, and is obviously nervous give his frantic glancing around. His ocean blue eyes finally settling on me and he’s practically sweating bullets. I pick up on the tremor of his lip when he forces a smile waiting patiently for my order. ‘Given the fact that it’s about mid-day and I’ll be meeting with a new client I think I’m going to opt for my go-to comfort beverage.’
“Good morn- Er. Afternoon, what can I get for you today?” The barista asks, his face flushing in embarrassment at his small slip-up.
‘I’m sure he’s had plenty of those minor mistakes today, the first day jitters are definitely getting the better of him. I can imagine it’s probably been non-stop for him, one order after the next in quick succession. Forcing him into this wreck of nerves at the fast-paced environment.’
Standing there for a moment more, I try to show a bit of compassion, my eyes flick down to the name pin fastened to his black apron then back up to his face and say, “Hello Reggie, I think I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, with some extra whipped cream please!”
I flash him what I hope comes across as an encouraging smile, and opt to keep words of encouragement to myself, ‘He’s high-strung as is, there’s no need to make him feel worse by having a random stranger notice how much he’s floundering around and comment on it.’ Instead I reach into my wallet and grab some extra cash in addition to the money I owe for the hot chocolate. I hand the money for the drink to Reggie and drop the extra cash into the tip jar on the counter.
“Thank you, and here’s your change. Your order will be right up.”
I cup my hand so the barista can simply drop the small coins into my outstretched hand instead of having an awkward exchange of trying to pry them out of his palm.
“Have a great day.” We happen to say at the same time to each other.
Stepping to the side I look over and survey the seating area. There are booths and tables with single chairs available, which I would usually have no problem taking, however, I am meeting with a client so I need something more. My eyes land on my usual spot for when I meet clients and I am pleasantly surprised to find it empty. It’s the perfect placement, not too close to the door, where people coming in might interrupt and not tucked away in the corner where nobody will notice me. ‘The client should be able to notice me immediately after receiving her order.’ After setting my bag down I bring out my tablet and unlock it, and start going through the various documentation required if the client does decide to book more sessions. I’m interrupted from my review by the sound of my order being called out, I look up and see one of the baristas I am familiar with holding my hot chocolate, we lock eyes for the briefest of moments before they place it down on the counter. I stand up and walk over to the counter and gingerly pick up my order, and head straight for the little island in the middle of the shop with the extra creamer and sugar packets on it. After picking up one of the paper coffee sleeves and carefully sliding it onto my drink, twisting it around to get the proper snug fit. I walk back to the booth, slide onto the seat, and resume reviewing the prepared documents on my tablet.
I let myself relax, the lull of conversation around me creating a calm atmosphere. There’s some chatter behind me, some girls are discussing a recent rumor going around about the Pro-Hero, Ground Zero. I dismiss their chatter immediately, ‘It’s just gossip, so who cares.’ Despite the lack of basis for the rumor to stand on, the women behind me continue speculating. I finish reviewing my documents then pull out my phone to check the time. ‘My client should be here any minute now.’ Scrolling through my social media feed once more I notice the rumor the women behind me were discussing has spread like wildfire. I try to ignore it to the best of my ability, ‘It’s not my business to judge other people’s life choices.’ I pause for a moment, ‘Well, it is my business as long as they are a client that is...’ I’m broken out of my train of thought by a commotion coming from the pick-up counter. Some woman is yelling at poor Reggie, something about how he got the order wrong, insisting that she talk to the manager. I turn my head and see the back of hers, Reggie is visibly shaken by the confrontation.
The woman turns around and my eyes widen momentarily in shock, ‘That’s my new client.’ I groan internally then put on my brightest smile, and stand up.
I hold my right hand out in greeting, “Hello Sandra is it, I’m Pallas we spoke on the phone a couple days ago.”
It’s like a switch flipped within the other woman’s face. Her lips that were just pursed in a thin disgruntled line, spread into a wide smile.
“Hi, hello. Sorry about the delay, the employee got my order wrong.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that, why don’t we get right into things? Is there anything in particular you are looking to get out of my services?”
“Well, everything in my life seems to be a hot mess, I just want to get back on track.”
“That seems reasonable enough. How about we take a seat and go over your intake paperwork?”
We then spent the next hour talking about the various terms and conditions that come along with the contract. Sandra keeps complaining about every other word claiming that the contract is “too opaque and vague.”
“Why can’t you just fix my problems now, why do we even need a contract?” Sandra asks, her tone changing from calm to aggravated rapidly.
“The contract is here to protect both of our interests. Without it, I will be severely restricted in the extent to which I can help you.” I try my best to explain this to her as calmly as possible.
Sandra pushes several more times to do away with the contract, at this point I am considering excusing myself for the bathroom to scream out in frustration at least three times. Each time the urge comes over me, I simply look down at the small watch on my wrist instead, remembering the seemingly everlasting patience of my late grandmother. When we finish reviewing the documents I stand up, pick up my tablet and grab my bag in preparation to leave.
I say, “After speaking with you, I’m sorry to inform you that I don’t think that I will be able to provide you with the services you are looking for.”
“What?!” Sandra exclaims, shooting up from her seated position, her sweet demeanor gone in an instant and is replaced by a look of outrage, “You had me fill out all that ridiculous paperwork, forced me to pay you for this meeting, and you’re not even competent enough to take me on as a client!”
By now the entire coffee shop has gone silent at her outburst, in this moment I can’t manage to think of anything to de-escalate the situation, all I can think about is maintaining my composure and professionalism in the face of Sandra’s harsh comments.
I muster up enough restraint and force a smile, “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I have caused you.” I bow my head in apology.
“Oh, I’ll show you inconvenience!” Sandra shouts and then knocks my tablet out of my hands. I’m frozen in shock at her actions, my face stricken with horror as the tablet appear to drop in slow motion. It clangs against the corner of the table before hitting the ground. A crunch resounds through the deathly quiet coffee shop, my stomach clenches in reaction.
A softly whispered, “Oh shit” comes from the booth with the gossiping women. I look up to see the manager approaching us, sympathy for me written all over her face, but a quiet anger-filled aura surrounds her.
She clasps her hands together and addresses Sandra, “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’ve disrupted my place of business not once, but twice now. You have also managed to assault one of my customers as well. I suggest you leave now, I have already called the authorities.”
“I can’t believe you called the cops on me! I’d like to speak to your manager. This is horrible customer service!”
“Ma’am I am the manager. Now would you please come with me.” The manager wraps her arm around Sandra’s shoulder and escorts her out, the jingle of the bells signalling that they have exited the building.
I take a deep breath in and bend down, picking up my tablet to assess the damage. Pressing the power button does absolutely nothing the first time, the lock screen doesn’t come into view or anything, so I hold the power button down and the start up sound comes from the tablet but the visual that accompanies it is absent. I try turning it off and on again one more time, after a drop like that even with the case on, there’s no way I’d expect it to still be functioning.
Unfortunately, my expectations are fulfilled, my tablet is officially out of commission. I drop it into my bag and lean against the table, waiting for the cops to show up. After a few minutes I think to myself, ‘I hope people just leave me alone right now, I am so not in the mood for some stranger to have pity on me at the moment.’ I clench and unclench my jaw a few times to try and relieve some of the tension in my body, and the I feel a gentle, hesitant tap on my shoulder. Turning my head slightly to see the new barista, Reggie looking at me apprehensively, he opens his mouth and closes it several times before I see his lips move, but I can’t find it in me to focus on what he’s saying. All I can hear is a rushing sound filling my ears... Reggie moves forward and grabs my shoulders, shaking me lightly, “-you okay?”
I nod my head and croak out, “Yes.”
“Are you sure? You’ve got quite the grip on that table there.”
Looking down I notice exactly what he’s talking about. My knuckles appear to be bleached white, my hands are holding the table in a death grip. I manage to pull my hands away then open and close them to work the blood flow back into them. I turn around and lean against the table and let out a nervous laugh.
My heart is hammering against my chest, the roaring sound in my ears has died down enough to the point where I can hear myself say, “I’m a bit taken aback is all. I mean I was expecting some reaction from her, but not that one...” I trail off and glance behind me briefly and catch a glimpse of Sandra talking to an officer, it’s then that I hear the bells chime and the other officer walks in. He strides over to where Reggie and I are standing after scanning the room of patrons for a moment.
“Hello ma’am my name is Officer Schmoe. I need to ask you some questions. May I see your ID so I can get your name down correctly?”
“No problem, here you go.” I say after reaching into my bag and retrieving my ID out of my wallet, and handing it to him.
“Here you go.” he says after jotting down my name then handing it back to me. I quickly put it back in its designated slot in my wallet and then turn back to the officer.
Officer Schmoe takes out a notepad from his shoulder pocket then asks, “What happened?”
“Well, Ms. Sandra Bonde and I were having a meeting here and after reviewing some documents and speaking with Ms. Bonde I informed her that I would not be able to provide my services to her.”
“What is it that you were not going to do for Ms. Bonde?”
“I am a life coach, and after speaking with her I determined that the problem was beyond my ability to assist her.”
“Okay, then what happened?”
“Well, I was standing up getting ready to leave when I told Ms. Bonde this, she stood up and said something of how it was unfair that I forced her to pay for an initial intake when I now plan on not taking her on as a client. I responded by saying I was sorry for any inconvenience I had caused her. She then said something along the lines of I’ll show you inconvenience, and smacked the tablet that I have for business out of my hand and it dropped to the floor after hitting the corner of the table. The manager came over and asked her to leave, I tried turning the tablet on afterwards and it is no longer functional. I will either have to get it fixed or replace it.”
“Can I see the tablet in question?”
“Sure.” I grab the tablet and hand it over to him.
He looks at it and turns it over in his hands, examining it from different angles, “Would you like to file charges against Ms. Bonde?”
I freeze at the question, ‘I mean I could, and I would most likely win, and that would all be fine and dandy. However, I would probably be forced to interact with that woman a dozen or so more times before the case was over. I do not feel like putting myself through that kind of torture.’
“No, I would not.”
He tries the power button the same as I did and gets the same results, absolutely nothing, “Okay, ma’am, here you go.” He hands the busted tablet back to me and I take it from him, then place it behind me on the table.
“Could I have your contact information in case we need to ask some follow up questions later on?”
“Will a business card be okay?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I root around in my bag for a moment until I find my cards, they’re still in the envelope they came in when I first ordered them. “Here.”
Officer Schmoe takes the card and places it in his shoulder pocket along with his notepad, “Thank you for your time ma’am and have a good rest of your day.”
I nod at the officer and smile as he turns on his heel and leaves the store, I pull out my phone and check the time, this whole encounter has put me at least two hours behind schedule, ‘I’ll just have to work a bit later in the office ton-’
There’s a resounding CRACK from outside, it’s sudden and pulls my attention immediately to look out the window. My eyes meet Officer Schmoe’s as his head is whipped sideways, I look past him to see his partner putting cuffs on a struggling Sandra. His partner looks pissed, ‘I would be pissed too if I had her screeching at me for the past half hour or so, and to top it all off, her smacking your partner in the face.Oof.’ I turn back around and put my belongings back into my bag. The bells jingle and the manager walks over to me with the sweetest smile, her demeanor putting me at ease. “I’m sorry you had to got through all that. Pick something to drink, my treat.”
“I’d like a hot chocolate please.”
The manager turns to Reggie and says, “Think you can manage a hot chocolate on your own?”
He nods and scurries around behind the counter to make the drink.
⇜↭⇝
Fidgeting with my keys, trying to get the key to my office open with my mostly empty drink in one hand and my bag in the other is probably entertaining to any onlookers, amused by my struggle and lack of forethought. I finally manage to find the right key and slide it home into the lock, I turn it and push to let myself in. Flicking the lights on as I enter, closing the door behind me before walking over to the thermostat, unfortunately I ended up staying out longer than expected so it will have a small effect on my bills. Yet another thing to add onto the growing list of unfortunate events for today. The chill of December has settled in my bones and I need to change that, fast. The free hot chocolate definitely helped me stave off the cold while I was on the bus, but the walk to the office didn’t help me feel any warmer that’s for sure.
I walk through the office space all but dragging my feet before I plop down into the chair at my desk and turn on my laptop. ‘I’m going to waste so much paper. There’s a reason why I switched things over to digital...’ The login screen comes up and I type in my password, the work that I had open from before is still open, ‘Good, that makes things a little easier.’ I pull up my email and write up a quick memo to the clients I’m supposed to see over the next week informing them of the slight adjustment given an unfortunate occurrence. Clicking off my email I review the file for the client I am meeting with tomorrow, and make sure I have everything I need compiled and print off some notes that I made on potential goals they need to set. I get a few emails back, responding quickly with their understanding. Some other people are slow to respond. I even have one person say that they aren’t going to pay me more just because I broke something. I immediately saved that to respond to at a different time, being in no state of mind to do so now and think to myself, ‘I know I said I was going to work late tonight to make up for lost time, but it just isn’t happening. I am officially done for the day.’
I put alligator clips on the notes separating each client. After putting all the notes in my bag next to the tablet, I grab a pen from off my desk as well as a sticky-note. Writing out a reminder to call up tech support and find out a quote, I take the sticky-note off of the stack and place it on the brim of the laptop and shut everything down. Returning to the office entrance I slide the deadbolt into place, and give the doorknob a quick tug making sure my office is secure. I turn around and grab my phone and keys from out of my bag and head to the stairs leading up to my apartment. Rustling the keys around until I find the right one, and then unlocking the door, “Hey, sorry I’m late, I’ll throw something together real quick!”
I turn around and lock the door behind me then place my keys on the hook beside the door. Walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge I think about what I can make for dinner. After staring blankly at the contents with nothing coming to mind I come to a decision. “You know what, how’s frozen pizza sound to you?”
I crane my neck to the side listening in for a response and I hear an affirmative noise over the sound of the television playing in the living room. I close the fridge, open up the freezer and take out the frozen pizza, wiggling the box a bit to try and slide it out from under the other frozen goods without taking everything out. ‘Success!’ I think to myself once I’ve pried it out of its spot without the entire freezer falling out onto my feet. Quickly setting the oven to the right temperature and then I rip the box open and put the pizza on a pan to cook on. While I wait for the oven to heat up I start talking to Neville in the other room, “So remember how I was saying just yesterday that work has been pretty slow lately. Well, remind me to watch what I ask for next time because I had quite the interesting client today.”
I hear an inquisitive noise from the other room, “Yes, I am aware you can’t hear me very well, I’ll be there in just a minute, give me a moment to put in the pizza.”
The oven beeps signalling that it has finished the heating process. I slide the pan into the oven, set the timer on the stove and walk into the living room joining Neville on the couch. He slides over and rests his head on my lap, he looks up at me expectantly and I chuckle a bit. I reach down and massage his head, his hair soft and velvety to the touch, the repetitive motion eliciting a content sigh from him and I continue telling him the events of my day. From the initial conversation between me and Sandra to her outburst, and finally the image of seeing Officer Schmoe reeling back from Sandra’s assault, her being put in handcuffs and hauled away. Throughout my retelling, Neville sat patiently listening to everything I had to say, making small noises here and there indicating how he felt exactly in regards to what was being said. It’s moments like these that I appreciate him the most. He’s not very vocal, but he is an extremely good listener and just that alone helps ease my stress on a hectic day like today. The timer on the stove beeps and Neville moves, letting me get up and go back into the kitchen. I put on an oven mitt from inside the drawer beside the oven and I hear Neville pad into the kitchen. After taking the pizza out of the oven, and placing it on the stove top I look over at Neville who is licking his lips in anticipation.
“No, absolutely not. You know what dairy does to you. I am not dealing with your flatulence and explosive diarrhea for the next three days.”
He huffs at me and saunters over to his food bowl full of dry food, and eats a few bites before deciding he’s over it and leaving the kitchen. A definitive meow can be heard from the other room, and I sigh after grabbing myself a plate and putting a slice onto the plate.
“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not like I wouldn’t mind giving you some it’s just your lactose intolerance is no joke my dude.” I say as I walk into the living room and switch through the channels idly.
Bakugou’s P.O.V.
“In local news this evening, a woman was arrested just this afternoon at a local coffee shop for assaulting an officer. The alleged assailant, a 31-year-old female, supposedly assaulted an officer after being informed that she would be taken down to the station for disturbing the peace among various other charges. We spoke with the manager of the coffee shop where the incident occurred and she claimed that the woman not only assaulted an officer but also assaulted a frequent patron of hers prior to the police becoming involved. We have not received any further information regarding the other party, and the manager has chosen to remain silent as to their identity.”
I watch the clip of the woman slapping the officer in question and recognize Joe clicking my tongue and turn off the television shaking my head. ‘Poor Joe, and I had just spoken to him earlier this morning. I guess I’m not the only one who’s had a shitty day then huh?’ I quickly grab a plain, black, hooded sweatshirt from the drawer in my room and pull it over my head. Looking around the room I am a bit surprised that the incident from earlier this morning did not leave my room in disarray. ‘Calling him was definitely for the best. If her reaction was anything to go off of, without the cops she would’ve definitely trashed the place.’ I close and lock the door to my apartment. The stairs no longer a problem because the hangover from earlier is a distant memory. The familiar stairway down to the parking garage calmed me, the echoing and clanging of my feet against the stairs blocking out my thoughts. I push open the door and take in a sharp breath of air, the sharp chill invading my lungs. Even though I was expecting the chill given the time of year, it still caught me a bit off guard with exactly how cold it has gotten as the sun goes down.
Walking over to my assigned space and unlocking my car takes a matter of moments. The leather seats make my butt clench as it makes contact with the chilly surface. I turn the keys in the ignition and it starts up with a roar. Pulling out of the parking space is a quick maneuver of the steering wheel and then I’m on my way. Weaving in and out of traffic on my way to work, my head nodding to the music, I come to a stop at a red light and tap my thumbs against the wheel in time to the beat. It’s only a matter of minutes before I pull into the parking garage of the hero agency, stopping briefly to scan my ID card in front of the sensor. The machine beeps at me and then the automated gate bar lifts up and grants me access to the garage. I turn my head and wave at the guard sitting in the booth before driving to the second level and pulling into my space. I turn the car off and grab my ID and close the door, locking the car as I head into the stairwell.
When I step out onto my floor, the admin. assistant rushes over to me, she seems a bit frazzled, but not more so than usual and she says, “Bakugou, the boss would like to see you now. Before you get changed or anything.”
She scuttles off, probably to carry out some other task assigned to her by the boss. ‘What could he want, it’s not like I’ve gotten into any real trouble recently...’ The speculations are endless as I approach his office, the door slightly ajar. I knock on the side of the door frame anyway to announce my presence.
A booming voice urges me in, “Come in Bakugou, have a seat.”
I open the door and close it gently behind me, and then take a seat in one of the red cushioned arm chairs in front of his large desk. The boss’ presence is a bit intimidating as he looks up from a folder on his desk. He nods to acknowledge my presence, and then peruses the paperwork in front of him for another moment before closing the cover and meeting my eyes.
He stares at me for a moment before speaking, “I got a call this afternoon, there was an issue of sorts at your apartment this morning and the police had to get involved. When Kirishima came in for his shift earlier today I called him into the office and he was a bit concerned. I asked him what was going on with you and he mentioned that you haven’t been acting like your usual self. Now, you may not like it, but it is my job to pry. If you are not in the right mental state to do this job I need to bench you, even if it’s just temporarily.”
He stops speaking but continues to look into my eyes gauging my reaction, I don’t say anything in response to his words. I try and maintain a neutral expression, but the boss seems to see through it and says, “See that expression tells me that benching you might be the right call.”
The sides of my mouth turn downward into a frown, the thought of being assigned to desk work for an undefined amount of time does not appeal to me in the slightest.
“I am mandating you see the department therapist.”
I shoot up out of the chair, clenching my fists at my sides. A familiar scowl on my face as I exclaim, “I’m not crazy, why do I need to see a shrink?!”
The boss furrows his brows and says, “I know you’re not crazy, there are other reasons for needing to see a therapist through. If you want to stay an active Pro Hero you WILL see a shrink as you called it.”
“This is bullshit! Sorry. This is bullshit sir!”
The boss chuckles at that, then says, “I understand you’re upset but this is non-negotiable.”
“I go out for one night on the town-”
“It’s no about that. It’s not about the woman you brought home. It’s not about the police getting called. It’s a combination of all these things and I can tell from the way you’re responding right now it’s the right call.”
“But-”
“This conversation is over.”
I simply bow my head and say, “Yes sir.” and head back to my desk. I sit there for a few moments and contemplate a week or more of tedium chained to a desk and unable to do my actual job just stuck doing paperwork and watching the walls. ‘The boss never said that I wasn’t allowed to go on patrol today explicitly.’ I hop out of my chair and head over to the locker room, I get no more than two steps in that direction when I hear the admin. assistant day to me, “You know if you do that, the boss will know before you even finish getting changed.”
I huff in exasperation and annoyance then sit back down at my desk. I put my head in my hands with my elbows propped up on my desk, ‘I said it before and I’ll say it again. This is utter bullshit.’
⇜↭⇝
The bright fluorescent lights of the office have burned a circle in my retina, ‘I’ve been spinning around in this chair for about thirty minutes, if I don’t do something I’m going to lose my damn mind.’ I look over at the admin. assistant. She’s busy at work at least that’s what I think is happening, all I can see is the top tuft of hair peeking over the monitor to her computer, as she is otherwise surrounded by paperwork. Bringing forth the silent question as to how in the hell she saw me despite being barricaded behind stacks of papers. I stand up and walk over to her, tapping on the desk to catch her attention.
“Hey, I’m not going on patrol, but I am going to head over to the police department to see if they need anything.”
The clacking of her nails against the keys doesn’t stop even after I say something to her, but her tuft of hair bobs so I just leave, taking my badge from off my desk and my phone heading out the door of the main entrance. The cold filling my lungs with crisp air, it’s refreshing after being in the stuffy office for a few hours. The walk to the police station is short but the entire time there is a constant stream of thoughts going through my mind. ‘The past few weeks haven’t seemed especially different from any other. It’s been nothing but routine for me in terms of getting through work and getting over my ex. I didn’t think that my behavior had been too out of the ordinary.’ The sidewalks are still pretty busy at this time of night and I have plenty of company on my stroll to the police station. ‘Even so, I still don’t want to go to a therapist.’ The thought crosses my mind as I walk up the steps into the police station. The air in the police station is just as stuffy if not stuffier than that of the agency. Looking around I see the usual crowd, some new faces here and there but most of the personnel are the same. Then the person I least expected to still be at work comes sidling up beside me patting my shoulder, “Hey there Bakugou, it’s not your first day here so why’re you gawking around like you don’t know what to do with yourself?”
“Hey Joe, why’re you still here? Your shift was over hours ago right?”
“Well, yeah, but they forced me to get checked out by the doc just in case before I headed home.” he says pointing at the lurid bruise covering most of his left cheek, continuing “I was just picking up my stuff, on my way out the door.”
“From that woman earlier right? I saw that on the news right before I came in today.”
“Yep, and boy was she a piece of work, that one. Anyway, what brings you here?”
“Boss told me I was on desk duty, I figured I’d pop by and see if you guys needed anything. I am glad I ran into you though.”
“Is that so?” He looks at me with a questioning look on his face.
“Yes, maybe you can answer a question I have. Other than a therapist, who would someone go to for help, asking for a friend you understand.”
“Well, if it isn’t an actual mental health issue but more needing assistance with getting their life on track they could try a life coach.”
“Uh, huh.” I nod my head slowly at his statement.
“Not to say that a life coach and therapist are on the same level of course. However, the thing that they do have in common is that they help people who may be a bit lost in the weeds and not able to see a way forward.” Someone approaches the doorway and we move off to the side to avoid being in anyone’s way.
“I actually have a business card right here.”
Joe pulls the card out of his shoulder pocket and hands it to me, I take it and put it in my jacket for later. We talk for a few more minutes, Joe complaining mainly about how much paperwork he’s going to have to deal with now that the woman who I have learned is Ms. Sandra Bonde is in custody. We laugh a bit at the comment, knowing full well the only reason we do any paperwork is because of our jobs. Paperwork takes up so much of my time, I’d rather be out on patrol than sitting down at my desk doing mindless busy work, filling out forms and whatnot. The idle thought causes my eye to twitch in annoyance, reminding myself of my mandatory desk duty, I don’t know how I’ll survive.
We part ways as he heads to the direction of the subway and I stay put. After conversing with the officer at the front desk I wait a few minutes for some files on small time villains they were going to send over later, and with those in hand I walk back. Even though the whole point of me going to the police station was just a ploy to get out of the office I feel glad that I could accomplish something even if it is as mundane as carrying files back and forth. I pause for a moment, I did accomplish something else as well, I have the business card of the life coach that Joe gave me.
I am greeted by the stale hot air of the office and the sound of keys tapping away at the keyboard, coming from the admin. assistant’s desk who is as always surrounded by mountains of paperwork. I almost feel bad as I walk up to her and say, “Here’s what they had for us at the station.”
She simply looks up at me and says, “Just add it to a stack and I’ll get to it.”
After placing the papers onto one of the smaller stacks I head back to my desk. Dropping down into my chair and looking at the bare desk in front of my. I lean back in my chair and look up at the tiled ceiling pockmarked with holes. The standard soundboard material is a soulless institutional white-grey and lacking anything better to do, I start counting the holes, ‘This’ll be better than staring at the lights. At least I won’t blind myself out of boredom.’
⇜↭⇝
“4,262... 4,263-”
“Hey Bakugou, I’m heading out,” says the admin. assistant, “Thank you for picking up the paperwork this evening. It did make things a bit easier. Oh, and the therapist should be calling you sometime tomorrow to schedule an appointment.”
She gives me a small wave and then walks away, a minute later I hear the door close and am alone in the empty office, all the other heroes for this shift are out on patrol. ‘Lucky bastards.’ I lean back in my chair once more and try to find the spot where I had left off but I had lost track. I click my tongue, although the task was pointless, at least it gave me something to do. I stand up and head over to the vending machines, a quick snack doesn’t sound too bad.
The selection is limited and most of the bags are probably filled with stale chips anyways. After a few moments I reach into my back pocket to grab my wallet after deciding on a bag of pretzels. My wallet is not there, I furrow my brows in confusion, maybe I left it at my desk? No, when I get back there it’s empty. I pat myself down, and the only things on me are my phone, hero ID, and keys. Wait, maybe I left it in the car? A sinking feeling in my stomach tells me otherwise, but I figure it’s worth a quick peek anyways.
Ten minutes later it is clear that it’s not here. I’ve checked under the seats, in between the console and the seats, and in the glove box. I even checked in between the seats and the side panel of the car by where the seat adjuster are, nothing. I huff out in annoyance at my fruitless search and resist the urge to slam the door to my car, closing it behind me and lock it before heading back inside ‘Great if it isn’t at the house I will have to call around and cancel all my cards, just what I need.’
⇜↭⇝
I have managed to accomplish nothing in the four hours after getting back from the police department other than count the divots in the ceiling and down eight cups of coffee, I have never had that much coffee in one shift before. I spent hours literally staring at the ceiling, hopefully this desk duty nonsense will be over soon. I can’t sit at a desk all day, my brain will atrophy. Maybe I won’t even need to talk to the shrink more than once, I’ll contact the life coach, set up an appointment and then I’ll be out on patrol in no time. The boss is just giving me a nudge, he’s not holding my hand on the issue.
I drive back to my apartment a bit slower than usual, lost in thought. Considering what I should say to the therapist and life coach that will finish up this whole scenario as quickly as possible. My train of thought lasts until I get to the parking garage of my apartment complex. The dim lights of the garage a bilious yellow hue against the stark night.
I unlock the door to my apartment, take off my shoes and walk inside, “Okay, now where the hell is my wallet?” I say to myself as I lock the door behind me.
I spend the next few minutes walking around the house wandering about, and have made a full circle in my search for my wallet. I sigh and take off my jacket, walking over to the coat hanger shelf by the door, I notice my wallet placed on the shelf. I take in a deep steadying breath, ‘It’s been here the whole time. At least I don’t have to cancel all my cards now.’ I rest my keys on the shelf next to it and take out the business card from Joe out of my jacket.
Padding into my room, the floor is chilly despite the socks on my feet. My thumb runs over the surface of the card. It’s smooth and warm to the touch after being in my jacket pocket for so long. I set it down on my bedside table and quickly undress, putting on my pajamas, readying myself for bed. After pulling my shirt over my head I pick up the card and walk over to my desk, sitting down in the chair and opening the laptop. While waiting for the login screen I look down at the card in my hands. It has a matte finish, and is heather gray in color, the black lettering standing out from the soft tone of the card stock. I flip the card over in my hand and see that it’s one sided. The small chime of the laptop lets me know that the startup screen is on display and I can log in. My fingers tap lightly at the keys, pausing every so often to glance at the card for reference. After typing the website into the url bar at the top of the browser the page loads up instantly. The platform is simple and easy to navigate, I find the application for the intake immediately. Looking over the requested information I scroll to the bottom of the page and come to a decision. ‘There’s no way I’m filling all of this out. I’ll just call them when I wake up.’
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
MSA: A (sort of) Necromancy AU
Summary: Arthur remembers the cave. He wants Lewis back and is desperate enough to try anything.
NOTE: Started this serval months ago and its been in ‘planning’ for a while. Probably won’t continue until after either ‘time travel idea’ or ‘winged-Arthur’ is complete. But was in an editing mode today so here it is.
.
The mental case clicks open. The red light flickers to green, and Arthur carefully replaces the plastic panel he’d removed to access the lock’s inner-workings. Around him, the room remains mostly dark, dimly lit by a glowing red exit sign. Far off, if he strains and holds his breath, he can hear the sounds of people moving up and down the hospital’s hallways. This section of the hospital may be closed for the night, but the wards and emergency room operate 24/7.
Quickly, not wanting to try his luck, Arthur snatches the plastic bags of donated blood, shoving them into his backpack. The process is made hard by his single, solitary arm. In his hast, he accidentally bumps his bandaged shoulder against the cabinet. Pain shoots across his chest, forcing him to pause and wait for it to settle to a more manageable dull ache. This is the third time he’s knocked the still-healing injury and it’s been equally, if not more, painful each time. Probably shouldn’t be moving around this much after his surgery. There are a lot of things he probably shouldn't be doing. Like stealing blood, driving long distances, transversing creepy cave systems, and attempting to resurrect his dead best friend.
Backpack is appropriately stuffed with blood packets, Arthur heads out the way he came, closing doors behind him, trying to leave as little evidence as possible. No one stops him. It’s not too surprising, he can’t imagine that many people want to seal blood in a small town like this one. He makes it back to the van emptying his backpack into a cooler box which is set to the correct temperature. Next, he’s manoeuvring through empty streets, ignoring the steady throb of his shoulder, speeding towards The Cave - Location of all his recent nightmares and scene of Lewis’s death. Arthur tightens his grip on the steering wheel.
It is almost three in the morning when he pulls up to the gapping stone entrance. So far, everything is running according to his well-planned timeline. If this doesn’t work, he wants to be home before Vivi wakes up to find him missing. He hopes it doesn't come to that, but a small part of him acknowledges that this whole expedition is a long shot. In the still night air, the slamming of van doors and his occasional pained grunts echo unnaturally in the surrounding trees.
Arthur ignores the prickling unease running down his back while he struggles to carry the cooler of blood, his bag of resurrection supplies, and the hefty necromancy book down the stone tunnels. He ends up having to hold a flashlight between his teeth to properly light his way. The trip is slow and laborious, requiring several stops to catch his breath. He pushes on. Occasionally, the silence is broken by the wail of wind whistling through stone crevasses and slow dip of unseen water. By the time he makes it to the site of Lewis’s murder, he is shivering with both cold and unease. Arthur drops his load, freeing up his hand so he can use the flashlight to scan the space. Tall pointed stone barbs tower over him and throw long shadows, which crisscross the ground in uneven patterns. Nervously, he inches forward, feeling awfully exposed in the open space.
“This is such a bad idea,” He mutters, glancing up at the high stone ledge and trying to calculate Lewis’s fall trajectory. His voice bounces around. A suspicious organic lump catches his eye. Arthur takes a sharp breath, freezing, riding out the sudden wave of nausea.
Lewis…
The necromancy book states that the closer the necromancer is to the body, the higher the chance of success. Arthur swallows, pointing his flashlight away from the darkened misshapen mound at the foot of one particularly sharp spike. There is no way he can approach Lewis’s body, let alone draw the sigils needed for the ritual around it.
Arthur picks a spot on the further side of the cave. Technically, the book only specified that the ritual needed to be ‘at the location of the target's demise’. As long as it was the most recent death then everything should work out fine.
“This is fine…Everything is fine. A-okay. Nothing to worry about.” He glances into the darkness. Everything not lit up by the flashlight is completely obscured.
“Just a normal guy, doing a completely normal necromancy ritual that will totally work. This will be fine and is not in any way a bad idea.”
Wind moans somewhere overhead as if in response, and he points his torch upwards. Nothing is there but more pointed rock formations. It would suck it one fell on him…Arthur shivers. The ritual he’s planning to follow is convoluted, the instructions poorly translated by Vivi, with potential consequences ranging from deadly to horrifying. A relic from Vivi’s macabre phase, he has no idea where the necromancy manual came from originally only that it's the only option available. Of course, he has had to substitute almost all of the ‘ingredients.’ For example, there was no way he’d be doing any ‘human sacrificing.’ Hopefully, the donated blood would be an adequate replacement for the rituals ‘liquid life’ requirement.
“Okay…ah," He hesitates, "…Wards. I need to set up a protective ward.” A ward is, according to Vivi's necromancy book, needed to protect his soul from some loosely defined 'darkness. Unfortunately, the book fails to describe how to set up a protective ward. As a substitute, he’s stolen a stack of paper talismans from Vivi and the giant scroll from the shrine in Vivi’s backyard. Vivi had once said the scroll was for protection and, with his lack of options, he hopes it’ll work for him. Trying not to feel too guilty about the theft, he shuffles around slapping paper rectangles on every surface he can reach and slinging the scroll haphazardly over a nearby rock formation so it can sit unfurled. The moment the scroll roles open, its fancy Japanese characters start to glow a faint gold.
Arthur stares. Okay…He has no idea what that means. Why had he never looked into any of this supernatural stuff before now? He should have been investigating this stuff years ago! A bit late now. Hopefully, it means it is doing its ‘protective’ thing.
Arthur continues his preparations, which is made slightly easier in the light of the scroll. His hand is shaking so much that the sigils for the ritual are almost impossible to draw, never mind that the rough stone doesn’t take chalk very well. The whole process is slow and painful, but he pushes on and manages to sketch out a large circle, decorated with intricate symbology. All the practice he’d snuck in during the week seemed to be paying off.
Now for the hard part. Arthur takes the first packet of blood and ends up having to stab it open with his pocket knife. The blood spurts all over the place and his clothes and he almost throws up right then and there. He tries not to think or look as he empties out the rest of packets into the centre of the circle. When he finally finishes, his good arm is tired, his shoulder is throbbing, and he is panting with exhaustion.
Arthur pulls out a locket containing a picture of both Lewis and Vivi. He had had to steal it off Vivi’s nightstand because, despite not recognising the man in the picture, she was very attached to it. Hopefully, it would work as an ‘emotional anchor.’ He drops the locket and some of Lewis’s hair, collected from an old hairbrush, into the circle. All that is left is a long and overly complex Latin chant.
Sitting at the edge of the circle, laying the book down flat, Arthur traces the words with a finger.
This is it…If this doesn’t work…He doesn’t know what he’d do. Probably cry. He takes a deep breath and begins to read. When Arthur finishes reciting, he waits for several long, agonising seconds.
At first, nothing happens. The cave remains cold and silent. Then, a loud wind moans overhead, tearing down through the tunnels, twisting in a circle around him and pulling at his hair. The flashlight flickers off, but it doesn't matter because the stolen scroll is growing brighter and brighter. It continues to increase in brilliance, lighting the entire cave floor, reflecting off the stone spikes. Arthur’s eyes sting and he sees spots.
Then the scroll bursts into purple flame. Simultaneously, all the paper talismans explode, burning and flaking away. The area begins to grow steadily hotter until Arthur is sweating and breathless. It is so hot that the blood in the circle starts to boil also catching on fire, evaporating in long wisps of smoke which twist in the wind overhead. Arthur feels a sharp pain in his chest, tugging him forward. He grips his shirt, having trouble thinking, and edges of his vision dim.
‘Bad idea confirmed.’ Is his last coherent thought.
.
.
.
Lewis breathes in like he’s returned from some deep-sea dive. His chest expands as he inhales in one desperate action. The next thing he does is groan loudly. Everything hurts. There is a constant throbbing pain in his left shoulder and his whole body aches with exhaustion. Cold air makes him shiver uncontrollably. Lewis blinks up from where he is lying on hard stone ground. He can’t see anything despite knowing his eyes are open. When he moans it is all wrong, too high pitched.
“Lewis?” Arthur’s voice, faint and whispy, drifts through the dark towards him. Lewis tries to pull himself into a seated position to get a better sense of his location. Only, he overbalances and smacks into a nearby rock, sending spikes of more intense white-hot pain through his shoulder. He grits his teeth.
“Lewis!” Arthur's voice is way too enthusiastic, piercing through the haze of pain.
Where is he? The last he remembers is walking with Arthur, navigating down a stone tunnel. They’d come to a stone platform overlooking a larger cavern, then…everything gets blurry. He’d fallen…He vaguely remembers falling.
“Arthur. Where are you?” Lewis, using his good hand, grips the rock to hold himself up in a seated position. He is not imagining it. His voice is definitely different.
“I don’t know…but I can see you,” Arthur answers and Lewis glances about, confused, peering into the dark.
“How? It’s pitch-back in here.”
Something is wrong with his left arm. It is completely unresponsive. He can’t move it at all.
“I’m not sure,” Arthur also sounds confused now. Lewis presses his back against the stone, using it for support, feeling for his shoulder, trying to find the source of the pain.
"Whoa hey. Ah...I wouldn’t....” Arthur responds to his movement, “You may notice some body parts missing, but don’t panic."
“Don't panic?! Was I injured in the fall? Oh god,” He discovers why his arm is unresponsive, “My arm’s gone!”
“I said don't panic!"
Lewis gasps, heart beating way to fast. "I'm dying."
"No. You’re fine. I swear you're fine. Just try and calm down. You need to breathe.”'
“I am breathing,” He snaps, taking several hash breaths. He’s feeling lightheaded and woozy now. It doesn’t help that he still can’t see anything. That, plus the pain, saps the rest of his strength right out of him. Lewis hears is Arthur's panicked. "Lewis!" And then hears no more.
.
.
.
Of course, Lewis doesn't die. He wakes back up and is met with the same throbbing pain and cold stone. However, unlike last time, it is no longer pitch-black. A ball of floating fire, burning a mix of purple and yellow, is hovering over his chest. It lights the immediate area in a dim haze. He freezes, alarmed, staring in the soft light.
"Lewis? You're awake." Arthur's relived voice is coming from the ball of fire, which wavers and fluctuates when he speaks. What the...?
“Arthur?” He asks, hesitant, scanning the surrounding space. It is still too dark to see beyond a few meters, but he can make out taller stone structures.
“Yeah? You can see me now?”
His attention returns to the slowly bobbing fireball. Yes, Arthur’s voice is coming from the fire. Maybe he is dead after all.
"What happened?" Lewis whispers, swallowing and glancing down at where his hand should be. In the low light cast by the floating Arthur-fire, he can see there is no blood or any other sign of recent trauma. It just hurts a lot. He lifts up his remaining hand to examine that as well. It is pale. Far too pale to be his own hand. How?
#MSA#mystery skulls animated#fanfiction#fanfic#Lewis pepper#arthur kingsmen#nercomancy#sort of necomrancy#but not realy#references to injury#tw: blood#blood and injury
80 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
equus-ferro
Yee-huh?
entering--hyperspace
Im gay or something
cosmoweirdkid
cosmo🌠
trashy-can-draw
Burning Girl
antoshademik
Telviziz